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#‘FINALLY…god has blessed our marriage’
dumbnotstupidfuck · 18 days
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angel and husk getting married but afterwards angel makes the same joke over and over about how glad he is that they can finally have sex
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undertheorangetree · 6 months
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The Last of the Dragons
Chapter One- The Consummation
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Summary- With the Targaryen dynasty at risk, the last of the family must make unsavory decisions in order to ensure their reign continues.
Warnings- MDNI 18+ NSFW. Female reader. Angst. Politicking. Consummation of marriage with witnesses. Mentions of death. Trauma. Uncomfortable smut.
Author's Note- This first chapter is not very sexy!! There is (consensual) smut but it is not hot nor is it meant to be. The sexy smut will happen later. With that said, the link to the full chapter is below :)
series masterlist
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When the dust settles around the Dance of the Dragons, she is the only member of her family still alive.
Her mother burned by dragonfire, her step father cut down on dragonback. Jace and Luke lay dead at the bottom of the ocean alongside Aegon and Viserys while Joffrey lay scattered across the streets of Flea Bottom. It is a reality she does not like to face and though she still has Baela, Rhaena, and their grandfather, she knows she is the last of her family line. The last of Rhaenyra's blood, the blood of the true heir. 
It is that blood that damns her the moment Aegon is found poisoned, laying dead in his litter.
She had been spared alongside Baela and Rhaena, though she knew that was more so Corlys's idea than anyone else's. Aegon had demanded her head the moment he learned that it was she and Silverwing who had been responsible for Daeron's death but Corlys had managed to talk him down to simply keeping her as a hostage. He had argued that by having her bend the knee, it would show her mother's loyalists that he was the true king above all others, that her fealty had the power to stop Cregan Stark's march south and would calm tensions in the Riverlands and Eyrie. Aegon had agreed, though only after Alicent had prompted him to, and she had been spared from the executioner's block. Though as she sits at the small council table, staring at her last living uncle, she wishes Aegon had found the kindness in his black heart to swing the axe.
The Battle Above the God's Eye had left Aemond with another scar, this one having ripped through the flesh of his left shoulder and bicep. She wishes it crippled him further, that Daemon's final act managed to cut his arm from its socket, gouge out his last remaining eye and send him plunging into the depth of the God's Eye but other than a deep new scar, her step father managed little. 
"Lord Corlys and I believe that it is important, especially now, to assure the smallfolk that this war is far behind us now. Aegon's death threatens the already fragile stability we have managed to find ourselves on," Alicent explains, though it is not directed at her. They had all been whisked away into the small council chambers less than a handful of hours after Aegon had been found dead and that grief is still present in Alicent. Her eyes are rimmed red- a common trait of hers now- and her voice is hoarse from crying, but she still manages to stay strong before the men gathered. She and Aemond had been ordered to sit in on the small council meeting but neither have been given leave to speak. They sit silently, waiting for the moment that deemed their appearance here necessary as Alicent turns to her grandfather. "Which is why we have come to a kind of agreement."
"We want the Iron Throne to remain in Targaryen hands just as fervently as all others here and with the death of our king so fresh, it is of the utmost importance that we find a suitable heir quickly. One that puts both the Blacks and the Greens at ease and prevents a continuation of the war," Corlys says, fingers pushing at the small ball that rests before him. 
When the two of them had the time to discuss a potential heir, she has no idea, but perhaps it is a blessing that they had. With Aegon and all his children dead, there are few options left for the throne. She knows in her heart that she is the legitimate heir, being the only one left who has Rhaenyra's blood running through her veins, but she is a woman. After all that has happened, only a fool would attempt to crown her. The same could be said for Baela and Rhaena, though their claims are not as strong as her own. That left Aemond, a man, but widely hated for all he had done throughout the war. 
They are damned regardless of who is chosen, the risk of further rebellion at every turn. She does not pity the remnants of this council for the choice they must make now. The realm rests on the shoulders of the six people left in this room and that is a burden she would not want to carry.
"And you have an idea as to who the most suitable heir would be, my lord?" Lord Larys asks. Though he sits at the table, he is not truly facing it, leaning on the cane in his hands. She turns her head to look at him, his eyes wide with his question, and feels her stomach turn at the mere sight of him, their master of whisperers. 
Corlys looks toward Alicent, waiting until she gives the faintest nod of her head before speaking again. "My granddaughter, the princess, is Rhaenyra's last surviving child. Aemond is the last surviving child of King Viserys and acted as Aegon's regent for more than half his reign. The dowager and I propose that we unite house Targaryen once and for all and have the two wed to serve the realm as king and queen, like the Old King and Good Queen Alysanne. Equal in power, so as to bring all this unrest to an end."
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Read the rest here :)
Taglist- @ammo23 @bellstwd @kckt88 @aemondsbabygirl @shygardengalaxy @duds31 @at-a-rax-ia @ladymarg0t @queenofshinigamis @drakar-i @cl-0-vr @castellomargot @moonlightfoxx @ladybug0095 @marihoneywk
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love-belle · 9 months
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always, evermore, even after and still !!!
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which they get married and it's the happiest day for everyone.
or
for when you finally find your happily ever after. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
social media au // charles leclerc x fem!reader
warnings - language
author's note - hope u like this!!! i love you so much, thank you for reading <3
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, lewishamilton and 2,826,998 others
vogue charles leclerc and y/n y/l/n tie the knot in a grand yet intimate ceremony held at their villa in monte carlo.
the bride wore a valentino couture gown complete with a sprawling train and platform heels while the groom sported a classic black tuxedo. y/n’s childhood best friend, lily muni he, served as the maid of honour, whereas her close friends, carmen mundt, kika gomes and heidi berger were bridesmaids. on the groom's side, lorenzo leclerc, his brother was the best man along while his younger brother, arthur and his friend circle, which included lando norris, pierre gasly, carlos sainz and alex albon were the groomsmen. the guest list included many notable presences such as sebastian vettel, toto wolff, taylor swift, zendaya, timothée chalamet, harry styles and many more.
the couple’s first dance was to the song "love letter from the sea to the shore" performed by delaney bailey followed by "it's nice to have a friend" by taylor swift and "sweet creature" by harry styles.
tap the link in our bio to get a look inside their wedding held at their stunning villa in monaco.
tagged yourusername charles_leclerc
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≡;- ꒰ °instagram stories ꒱
yourusername added to their instagram stories
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≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, charles_leclerc and 796,528 others
landonorris my two best friends got married and i'm about to make it everybody's problem. congratulations, you horny motherfuckers. don't remember much of last night but as i'm sitting in a cafe in berlin, i know it ruled. here's to a lifetime of happiness, love and blessings and may this marriage not end in a divorce (y/n, lily still has that taxi driver on speed dial, say the word and we'll help you run away)
tagged yourusername charles_leclerc
8,638 comments
username stfu im gonna cry
username i feel like a proud parent omg
username we've come so far 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
username not lando violating charles on his own wedding post 💀💀💀
username they're so ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️😭😭😭😭😭😭
username i love them so much my lord
lilymhe you can still escape just sayin yourusername
-> yourusername i'll keep that in mind, thank you 💋
-> charles_leclerc is it too late to get a divorce
-> yourusername shut up you literally (and legally) signed up for this
username are we gonna ignore that fact that the wedding was in monte carlo and lando's in berlin
-> username how the FUCK did that happen
-> username i just know that the party was WILD
username "may this marriage not end in a divorce" PLS 💀💀💀
username the photos ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
username im living for the wedding content we're getting from like half the grid
maxverstappen1 berlin is nice
-> landonorris i know right?
-> username NOT MAX BEING IN BERLIN TOO WTF HAPPENED LAST NIGHT
username the event of the century 🔥🔥🔥
username THEY LOOK SO AMAZING WHATCTHRBUCJ
username in love with these
username god i need a life like this ://
charles_leclerc at least i had a gf and now i have a wife (thanks for the photos but i'm not paying you)
-> landonorris that's a fucked up thing to say to me (i literally hate you so much)
username fuck all the love stories except theirs
username my heart ://
username they SCREAM old money
-> username OMG THAT'S SO REAL
yourusername thank you for these pictures. we love you. take the train back to monte carlo rn or i am giving your gift to george. and thanks for the driver information, will keep that in mind definitely.
-> landonorris anytime. i love you both i guess. DON'T YOU DARE and of course, happy to help.
-> charles_leclerc DELETE THAT NUMBER RIGHT NOW
username charles has been married for one (singular) day and he's already fighting for his life 💀💀💀💀💀
username i love this friend group so much ❤️
username THEY BOTH ATE OMG
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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liked by yourusername, landonorris, carmenmmundt and 892,728 others
lilymhe in my head, we're still those teen girls who planned out their wedding days with so much enthusiasm and with so much detail that it would've put these planners and binders to shame. it's kinda hard to believe that my best friend is now married but honestly, y/n/n, i couldn't be more happy for you. you're my best friend and i love you so much. thank you for being just a call away, always. here's to charles (barf) and y/n (❤️)
tagged yourusername charles_leclerc
7,926 comments
username SHUT UP IM CRYING
username platonic soulmates ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
username AHHHSHDHDJDHBXSJ
username she's so pretty what the fuck
username Y/N ATE
carmenmmundt the prettiest bride 💕
*liked by lilymhe*
username two pretty best friends 🔥🔥🔥
username y/n looks so pretty what thebfuck omg im gonna scream
username my favs ://
username nah cus lily and y/n literally have my heart like they're my fav pair of best friends
charles_leclerc i remember when you threatened me
-> lilymhe good. remember it for the rest of your life.
-> charles_leclerc y/n she's doing that thing again yourusername
-> yourusername lily
-> lilymhe sorry
-> username NAH NOT CHARLES SNITCHING ON LILY
username she slayed so hard
username the barf and the ❤️ spoke VOLUMES
username im gonna cry they're so 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
username i wish i had a best friend like lily ://
alex_albon i never get captions like this
-> lilymhe this isn't about you
-> yourusername yeah alex this isn't about you
username y/n's childhood best friend being her maid of honour 😭😭😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
username in love with these two
username AHHHSHDHDJDHBXSJ
yourusername i love you SO fucking much
-> lilymhe i love you so much more
yourusername i'll love you always thank you for everything ❤️‍🩹
-> lilymhe you're my best friend, always here for you and your loser ass boyfriend
-> charles_leclerc I'M HER HUSBAND
-> lilymhe okay and??? she can get another one
-> username PLEASE OH MY GOD
username i adore their friendship tf
username don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, charles_leclerc
danielricciardo i had one (1) job and as you can see, i took it very seriously. mr and mrs. leclerc-y/l/n, everybody 💒🍧💐
tagged yourusername charles_leclerc
7,682 comments
username LECLERC-Y/L/NS
username THEY'RE SO 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
username i love them sm what the fuck
username my parents ❤️🫶🏼
username LOVING THE WEDDING CONTENT WE'RE BRING FED RN
username she looks so pretty omg ☹️☹️☹️
maxverstappen1 why are you acting like your ass isn't in berlin with us?
-> danielricciardo THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A SECRET YOU SNITCH
username WHAT THEBFUCJ HAPPENED LAST NIGJT 💀💀💀💀💀 why are they in berlin
-> username oh the night was wildin 🔥🔥🔥
username daniel.jpg but on main
username love them sm
username SO HAPPY FOR THEM AHSHDHSJDJBS
username living for this content
landonorris berlin kinda cool
*liked by danielricciardo*
username WHY are they in berlin
-> username no it's HOW are they in berlin
username no bc i feel like such a proud mom like i watched go from "hiii/hiiiiiii" to "hehehehe i do/shut up charles, i do"
-> username that's what i call GROWTH
username her dresses ate omg
username i know daniel's not getting paid for shit
username im so ://
charles_leclerc lovely photos mate
-> danielricciardo so will you pay me?
-> charles_leclerc no
username AHHHSHDHDHDHXHXJDJDF
username gonna sob some more
username honestly crying tears rn
yourusername we love you daniel 🫶🏼 (get your ass back to monaco i am NOT kidding)
-> danielricciardo love you guys (omg we're on our way stop you scare me sometimes)
username IM NOT NORMAL ABT THIS
username fav couple
username thank u to daniel for these
-> username doing god's word fr
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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liked by lewishamilton, carmenmmundt, charles_leclerc and 2,826,418 others
yourusername words cannot express how much i love you. every single time i think that this is it, i cannot possibly love you more than i do, i'm surprised by myself because i do. i really do. i fall in love with you more and more every single day and i'm gonna spend the rest of my life showing you that. i loved you when you first told me that you really liked my smile and i loved you when you told me you hoped i lived nearer to you and then asked me to move in. i loved you when you took the time to get to know me and i loved you when you said that i was it for you and i will love you when our hair is turning gray and we're gonna look back and smile and fall in love even more. they're gonna have to kick us out of those nursing homes i swear. i truly cannot wait to look back on our life together, cardboard boxes full of our love, but until then, let's live it. here's to my forever love, my everything, my world. i love you ❤️
tagged charles_leclerc
17,527 comments
username GOODNIGHT
username WHAT THR FUCK
username im gonna sob this is so
username they're married 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
username people say soulmates we say y/n and charles
username sliding down the door fr this is INSANE
charlotte2304 all my love to you both 💓
*liked by yourusername*
username HE'S SO HUSBAND MATERIAL LIKE
username they're MY parents
username the caption took my heart out and squeezed it
username hahahahaha!!!!! i am NOT okay!!!!!!! what the fuck is up with that caption
sebastianvettel 💐💕
*liked by yourusername*
username he's so ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
username "i truly cannot wait to look back on our life together, cardboard boxes full of our love, but until then, let's live it" WHEN WILL IT BE ME
username "they're gonna have to kick us out of those nursing homes" me and who lol (i am screaming crying shaking)
username no bc i too deserve someone like this ://
username it's giving timeless by taylor swift
*liked by yourusername*
username they're so taylor swift coded
username GOD ME WHEN
username gonna take a toaster bath brb 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
username don't test me istg
carla.brocker my heart 😭🩷
*liked by yourusername*
arthur_leclerc sister-in-law 💒🩷
*liked by yourusername*
username IM GONNA SCREAM WHAT THE FUXK
username MY parents 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
username he's so husband coded ❤️‍🩹
username microwaving a spoon brb
charles_leclerc i love you so much it's unbelievable just how much
-> yourusername i adore you and every part of you
charles_leclerc my forever love ❤️ cannot wait to grow old with you
-> yourusername forever has never sounded so good ❤️
username gonna be thinking abt this for the rest of my life just so u know
username they're setting the standards so high i can't do it anymore what the fuck
username im so 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️🫤🫤🫤🫤🫤🫤🫤🫤🫤🫤
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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liked by yourusername, pierregasly, landonorris and 2,826,318 others
charles_leclerc i honestly don't know what to say. you're my biggest dream, my wife and now that i'm saying it, it sounds so surreal. i have waiting been an entire lifetime to say these words and the fact that it's you in this lifetime (and all the others), is just amazing. i wish i had known you sooner, so that i wouldn't have to spend all those years looking for love in places where it couldn't possibly be. my love for you reached my past and before you came into my life, i missed you so bad. i hope that one day, when we're old and aged and have seen a thousand sunsets, you ask me if i love you and my answer will forevermore will be always, evermore, even after and still.
tagged yourusername
16,628 comments
username I CANNOT DO THIS RN
username everyone stfu im gonna cry
username english lang is so weird bc u say true love and it translates to y/n and charles
username nah the bar is too high atp im giving up
username SHE'S SO PRETTY MA GAWD
username the fact that they're now the leclerc-y/l/ns 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
lewishamilton so happy for you both 💐💒
*liked by charles_leclerc*
username "my love for you reached my past and before you came into my life, i missed you so bad" why am i crying.
username they're the blueprint for all love stories from now on btw
username I LOBE THEM SO MUVH WHAT GHE FUCK THEY'RE MU PARENTS 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 😭 😭 ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
usernames no bc the way all the photos are of random moments and this leads me to believe that charles just whips out his camera whenever y/n is just There and now im crying again
-> username he's just like us fr
-> username i too would play paparazzi for y/n is given the chance he's not the only one ://
carla.brocker coolest sister in law (best friend) 🫶🏼
-> yourusername carla i love you 😭
username still in disbelief they r married tbh
username i feel like we watched them grow up im so emotional 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔
username she's so pretty i could sob
username why did u think that it was okay for u to post this.
username i am not okay
lorenzotl 🤍💐
*liked by charles_leclerc*
username SHE'S SO PRETTY
username charles won at life fr
*liked by charles_leclerc*
username caption called me single and lonely in 26836282727 languages 💔💔💔💔💔
username bro woke up and chose to destroy shakespeare with that caption 💀💀💀
landonorris loved the wedding 👍 i woke up in berlin
-> charles_leclerc the wedding was in monaco???
-> maxverstappen1 i know
-> danielricciardo we obviously had some ideas and now i have an ugly tattoo and there's a ring pop on my finger
-> landonorris max has one too
-> charles_leclerc YOU MARRIED MAX
-> danielricciardo NO
-> maxverstappen1 NO
-> yourusername this is hilarious
username i need to see more pictures from the wedding I NEED TO
username i love my wife (i am delusional)
yourusername i have already loved you for a thousand years ❤️
-> charles_leclerc here's to a thousand more ❤️
yourusername i love you so much like you're my person and i just love you so fucking much :/
-> charles_leclerc i love you so much more mon chéri
username they're so 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
username IM SO AHJHSJSHDHDJSKDJD
username im gonna cry brb
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meiieiri · 7 months
Text
water’s edge | concept dump
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₊˚.༄ pairing: crown prince!gojo satoru x f!reader | setting: modern royal au
₊˚.༄ summary: in a world where titles define their fates, gojo satoru, the crown prince of japan, and his wife-to-be, face a tempestuous court of deception and schadenfreude. as they waltz on the edge of ruin, can their love endure the treacherous waters that threaten to pull them apart, or will the whims of the enigmatic chrysanthemum throne prove strong enough to drown them both?
₊˚.༄ warnings: mean!gojo (but that’s not even the worst of it oh my god what monstrosity have i created), arranged marriage, illness, allusions to criminal activity that may include reckless homicide, physical battery and attempted murder. mentions of depression, cheating, physical and emotional abuse, trauma, adultery. fictional depiction of the japanese imperial family, etc.
LINK TO FULL FIC MASTERLIST HERE!
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₊˚.༄ Crown Prince!Gojo who is the only son of the emperor and empress of Japan, the beloved and long-awaited child of his parents. As a child, he had been showered with endless praise and veneration as the one, true, legitimate heir to the chrysanthemum throne. The entire imperial household had expected the prince to inherit an unwavering sense of duty to the crown and to his people much like his fore-bearers, only to be severely disappointed when the prince turns out to be a pathological card shark with ambiguous morals, and a serial womanizer who has slept with countless women from aristocratic backgrounds during the height of his bachelor years.
₊˚.༄ Crown Prince!Gojo who finally incurs his father’s wrath after a nasty bar brawl that leads to him getting unceremoniously arrested and is stripped of his title and properties as crown prince, favoring his half-brother, Prince Suguru Geto, who had been born of the emperor’s affair with one of the empress’s ladies-in-waiting. This incident has prompted his mother, the empress, to help in ratifying his public image by arranging Satoru to marry a commoner with an impeccable standing in Japanese society in a bid to re-portray Satoru as a responsible, married man. The empress, in turn, offers to grant you, Satoru’s future wife-to-be, anything your heart could ever desire.
₊˚.༄ Crown Prince!Gojo who engages in a pantomime act of being a loving husband to you during a state banquet by showering you with endless praise in his speech addressed to all the world leaders in the Akasaka Palace’s reception hall. When he was asked to introduce you, his new wife, the honeyed words came so easily to him. “You see, the princess (Y/N) is no ordinary woman,” he chuckles into the microphone causing the guests to giggle at the sight of what looks to be a bashful newlywed.
“Other than being the first breath of fresh air our family has ever had the pleasure of knowing in so long, and the most active member in our family when it comes to supporting the many royal charities and foundations, she is…” he trails off. You dared to follow the wandering gaze of your husband, who seems to be searching for another pair of eyes in the room. His eyes eventually stop their search, softening at the sight of the one he loved. For a second, you think he is looking at you, and your heart naively skips a beat in your chest as if all these months of inattention and animosity were finally coming to an end.
“…My better half, the keeper of my own heart.”
Many of the ambassador’s wives who sat beside you nudged you in congratulations for being so blessed with such a devoted husband. You crane your head back to smile warmly at them for the kind words only to have ice coat your veins instantly when you see his Chief-of-Staff, Himiko Zenin, sitting about two seats behind you, staring directly at your husband with a wistful look in her eyes, exchanging words of love in a silent oath — one that is far more certain than the rising and the setting of the sun as each day passes with your husband hating you a tad bit more than yesterday, and one that is far more truthful than the wedding vows you shared.
Of course, writing this godforsaken death march-like speech was easy for Satoru, simply because these words of devotion and love were never intended for you anyway; this poetic spiel was written with another woman ensnaring his mind.
₊˚.༄ Crown Prince!Gojo who sneaks out of bed during your wedding night, sparing one last cold glance at your sleeping form before he saunters out the imperial villa to meet his girlfriend in a nearby mountain resort, about half a mile away from the villa. His personal chauffeur had been sworn to secrecy, else, he would incur the wrath of the crown prince.
“I thought you couldn’t get away,” Himiko moans wantonly into his mouth as he roughly takes her from behind, the lewd wet sounds of their lovemaking echoing through the room. He had taken the liberty of secretly bringing Himiko along to your honeymoon, by booking the most expensive suite in the resort for her under another name.
“The bitch is too fucked out to even notice I’m gone— mmph—“ he throws his head back, releasing a pleasured groan when Himiko meets his sharp thrusts, grinding teasingly on his cock as she does so. He grips her hips tightly, readjusting his hips to pound into her from another angle, the muscles on his abs tightening as he gets lost in the feeling of her tight, luscious walls. “Sh-shit, ‘m-m gonna cum—“
“—Ah! S-Satoru,” she was close too, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as the fat tip of his member roughly prods at her cervix.
He half-expected Himiko to be angry with him for engaging in intimate acts with you, but she simply acts like she didn’t hear him. And even if she was upset, why should he, of all people, apologize? She should have known that becoming his mistress entailed having to endure these kinds of things as these were simply Satoru’s marital duties, and by extension, his duty to the crown.
His high washes over him like a tidal wave crashing into the rock shore, grunting as he involuntarily thrusts as he releases inside her, Himiko collapsing onto the pillows as he does. “O-oh, haaa- agh,” his deep tenor moans into her long black hair as his seed paints her walls, holding her close to his form, their heartbeats racing a million miles an hour.
He pulls out his flaccid cock, plopping down next to her, pulling her small frame for her head to rest on his chest. “I just need to have father reinstate me as heir apparent and return all my estates, then,” he kisses her once, his lips moving in sync with her soft ones.
“…We’ll get rid of her.”
₊˚.༄ Crown Prince!Gojo who blatantly and publicly humiliates you by bringing along Himiko Zenin to a state visit to the imperial family’s counterpart in Monaco rather than you, his rightful wife. And when asked of your whereabouts, Satoru simply replies with a casual shrug, his hand squeezing Himiko’s smaller ones as she usurps the banquet thrown in your honor by the Monacan royal family while you watch the horrific scene unfold on your television screen, your heart shattering into a million pieces as Himiko and Satoru uncaringly waltz with one another in front of the watchful eyes of the entire world throughout the evening.
₊˚.༄ Crown Prince!Gojo who crucifies you for your acts of sincere charity, believing you to be actively humiliating Himiko despite having no intentions whatsoever resembling his baseless accusation. “Did you honestly think your little publicity antics would go unpunished? I bet you were just itching for the attention, weren’t you?” he snarls at you the second you come back from a visit to one of the hospitals you had commissioned for the treatment of children with rare diseases, a compassionate act which had been heavily televised by national broadcasting stations and even international news agencies. “If you wish to compete with Himiko, wife, then, by all means. But I swear to you, I will do everything — everything I can — to make the entire world know just how much of an opportunistic whore you are—”
You gaze up at your husband with fear in your eyes. “…I was not competing with Himiko, can I not care for our people — your people? I’m sure they need someone to promote their interests when their own prince couldn’t be bothered to do so!” you retaliate but are quickly shot down when he throws his scotch glass at the wall, causing you to flinch when it shatters on impact.
“I will make sure this humiliation you dealt to Himiko will return to you tenfold, (Y/N),” he dangerously seethes, coming to the aid of his mistress. “Celebrate your victory all you want, wife, but make no mistake, this is far from over.”
₊˚.༄ Crown Prince!Gojo who indifferently scoffs when you crumble into a sobbing mess after yet another argument with him. “W-what can I do to make you not hate me so much? P-please tell me, Satoru.” The only response you receive is your husband dangerously moving closer to you, his eyes, dark with pure loathing. Instinctively, you step backward, only to be met by the cold wall of your shared bedroom. “S-Satoru—“
“—Here’s what you can do: do exactly as I say, without question,” he traps you between his arms, his breath hot on your skin, his lips dangerously close to yours, his voice dripping with the venom that could turn every silver thread in your heart into a hue that resembled charcoal black. “If I tell you to kiss me, you kiss me. If I tell you to get out, you get out. If I tell you to shut up, you sew your mouth shut or rip your tongue out, I really don’t give a damn. If I tell you to die…”
“…You drop dead.”
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a/n: meh, just wrote this at the top of my head to get rid of this stupid writer’s block since hehe i have like eighteen drafts of jjk smut and drabbles in my tumblr folder rn help :’)
might turn this into a multi-chapter fic depending on how it is received. so lemme know your thoughts by reblogging, liking or commenting on this post!
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Safe Keeping | 2
Part 1 2 3
"What say you, lady? Don't you think the Hound would make a fine husband? He would protect you, yes, and you would bear him many babes." I curtsy again but this time, my voice falters when I speak, "I- I think he would," I turn to my left, "Lord Sandor would make a fine husband... a fine father."
Sandor Clegane x Reader | 5k+ | cw: fem!reader, forced marriage, enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, smut (dub con, primal play, PIV, rough sex), emotional unavailability, The Hound being abrasive, canon typical casual misogyny, baby fever, typos, etc.
A/N: you guys, i dont want to edit the summary from p1 so i wont. also for future me here are the asks i got for this fic [x] [x] [x] which is like 🤯 cos i thought id get 5 notes on this tbh HAHAH originally posted on ao3 but felt like posting it on here
Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx @otteropera @poisonsage808 @glitterandgoldfinds
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I refused to leave my chambers when I woke.
Not only had I cried myself to sleep, but I had woken with puffy eyes and ended up crying all over again. I was glad that my doting handmaiden was so fiercely loyal to me. Lucy didn't think my weeping childish. She was understanding and eternally on my side. I am immensely grateful for it; I don't know what I would have done without her.
She helped me bathe and dress and eat, then entertained me with gossip from the servants. For a while that was enough.
As the day passed though, my thoughts muddled and left me restless. I could not do anything but obsess over the fact my husband left me after wifing me up.
"Do you think he will come back tonight?" I mutter as I stare blankly at my reflection on the mirror.
Lucy ceases combing my hair and takes my chin in her fingers. Paired with a hand on my shoulder, she silently urges me to straighten my back from my seat. I do just that. She smiles at me through the mirror, "my lady, if you wish it, I will look for him and make him come to you."
I release a breath, "don't be ridiculous."
"I am not being ridiculous," she sets the brush down, "I am being serious."
I feel my throat tighten. My lips quiver but I refuse to break down in tears again. I shake my head rapidly, unwilling to speak, for I knew I would crack if I did.
Lucy frowns in concern then kneels down on my side, grabbing my hand, "my lady, I would die for you."
I screw my eyes shut and break into a whine, "please-"
"I owe you my life," she clasps my hand with hers and brings it to her cheek, "you freed me from my chains. You clothed me, fed me, and showed me kindness none of my masters have ever shown me before," she looks up at me with a solemn expression then repeats, "I would die for you."
I shake my head and lean into her, "live for me, Lucy. I've forgotten what's it was like before you and I don't want to remember."
She kisses my hand and presses her forehead on mine before standing, "I shall do as you command."
She stands behind me and gathers my hair back. She strokes my locks and offers me a smile through the mirror once more. I smile back at her this time around.
The comfort she offers me finally seeps through me as she massages my shoulders.
"I pray the gods will swiftly bless me with a child so that I will have other things to do than await my husband so helplessly and forlorn."
"Well, you said that he pleasured you," Lucy tilts her head, "women who have not been pleasured still bea-
Lucy is cut off by the crashing open of the door. She and I both whip back, hearts in our mouths as we stare at our Lord Clegane, who was staring right back at us.
"What's wrong with you?" he demands. The metal of his armor clanks. I eye the one Lucy tidied to the side, the one I undid the night before, and turn back to him. His brown eyes look at me with such intense accusation.
I feel my hands tremble. I cannot for the life of me find the words to speak. 
What did he even mean? How could he ask me this?
"No one has seen you all day," he says, "have you not left this room once?'
"She 'asn't," Lucy snaps, "milady has been feeling-"
"I wasn't talking to you, wench," the Hound does not turn to her when he says this. His eyes are very much still fixed on me, "I'm talking to my wife."
My wife. I look away. That's right, all that I am now is forfeit to him.
I gasp and turn back when I hear him marching over. Lucy places a protective hand on my shoulder and I find myself cowering into her touch. I clench my jaw and gulp when he stops in front of me.
He gazes upon me for the longest second of my life. He furrows his brows, "what's wrong with your fa-"
I flinch when he reaches out to my cheek.
Instantaneously, Lucy tightens her grip on me and blocks him, and Sandor cuts himself off and recoils before he can even touch my skin. He steps a few paces back then clenches his hand as if he'd gotten burnt.
We both evade each other's gaze. Sandor's eyes finally land on Lucy, "has she been crying?"
Lucy's blood boils. She hisses, "yes," then harshly pronounces, "milord."
Sandor turns away and twitches. He rolls his shoulders back and stretches his hands. He knocks on his chest plate. He looks to no one when he asks, "are you hurt?"
Lucy takes no care in masking her scoff or sigh. I take her arm and she watches me shake my head disapprovingly.
I do not look at anyone when I reply either, "I cannot say I'm not... lord husband."
A thick silence builds in the room within a moment.
When I dare too look at the Hound, he is already looking at me and suddenly speaks, "leave us, wench."
I turn to Lucy. She does not move an inch.
I give her an urging shake, but she is steadfast in her spot. Our Lord Clegane turns to her and grinds his teeth, "you will find I do not make habit of repeating myself."
I shoot up from my seat when Lucy presses forward and quips, "and you will find that I will not allow you to treat milady like this."
"Lucy!" I admonish, yanking her back.
Lucy glares daggers at him as I attempt to pacify and persuade her to leave us. Her eyes do not leave him as I sweep her out the room. I instruct her to walk around the gardens for a while then close the door after.
I press my back against the wooden surface as I look back to the man I was now alone with.
Sandor watches me expectantly. I do not say a word, for I did not know what he wanted to hear.
He finally breaks the silence, "you walk well enough."
I am dumbfounded by his choice of words. I dare not respond when I feel my lips quiver; instead, I nod quickly.
Sandor deeply furrows his brows. He shifts on his spot and chances a step in my direction, "why didn't you come out your room then?"
I lick my lips and shake my head. I turn away from him and mutter, "do I appear like I am in the state to be walking around when I look like this?"
"Like what?" he draws nearer.
I whip my head, "THIS!"
Sandor stops in his tracks. He looks at me, expressionless, "this what?"
I scoff in disbelief, feeling tears immediately soak my face. I whisper, "look at me."
"I am, with both eyes."
"And you see nothing?" I mutter shakily, "feel nothing?'
"Should I feel something?"
My chest sinks; it feels like it's caving in. He might as well gut me and spit on my bones. I turn to my feet and wipe my cheeks, "no. I suppose not."
Sandor curses under his breath. He rips at his collar, suddenly feeling his armour weigh down on him. He feels unbelievably hot. He clears his throat, "it hurts."
I look up at him.
"It hurts the first time, usually," he clarifies, "or in times you're not wet enough." He nods, "you were wet enough."
My entire being burns at his words, at his nonchalance. My face is searing in embarrassment and shame.
I want to scream at him, want to hurtle into him and demand to know why he left me, why he was so removed, but then I find the answers in my head. It dawns on me that he acted carelessly because he didn't care. He didn't want this. He didn't want me. All of it was forced. And so I hold my tongue.
Instead, I calmly explain, "my hurt is not bodily, Sandor."
Sandor's stomach rolls at the sound of his name.
"I was," I turn to space between us, "hurt that you left me. And-" I shake my head as tears rush from my eyes, "I've realized now that it's wrong of me to be."
I put a brave face on in spite of my weeping and hold his stare. The man is as stoic and hard as ever. I scoff at myself for feeling this way.
"Worry no longer, Hound," I open the door, "I will not cause you trouble again."
I step back and make way for him to exit.
He looks at me for what feels like an eternity then marches out the door.
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"And have you-"
Lucy and I gasp and turn at once.
"-named it yet, Lady Clegane?"
I chuckle guilty, "Lord Varys."
The man nods to me in regard, "good morrow to you."
I curtsy to him, as does my handmaiden. Lucy lifts her skirt as inconspicuously as possible in hopes to block what was behind her.
Varys catches this and waves his hands, "there be no need for that, my dear. The stray is an obedient one, isn't it?"
I share a look with Lucy before we step back and reveal the dog behind us. Daisy was panting and wagging her tail. She had her front paw bent, for it had been broken and healed that way. I had a maester examine it. In the end, he said it was pointless to put a split because it would not fix her leg and Daisy just kept chewing it anyway.
Daisy closes her mouth and sniffs the man.
"Ah," Varys smiles at the creature, "may I pet it?"
Lucy nods and eagerly explains, "she's Daisy; she is incredibly sweet, milord."
Varys cheerfully scratches the crown of the dog's head.
Though he laughs, my own face contorts into an opposite expression, "please make no note of it to my husband."
Varys looks at me exaggeratedly, as though he was offended.
I continue, "she makes me happy."
"One does not need to be told that to know," he presses his lips together. He links his hands, "I imagine you must be rather heavyhearted since the arrival of your womanly bleeding."
I drop my gaze upon hearing this. The master of whispers truly knew all. Lucy turns to me, then back to him, "milord, it's not proper to mention these things."
Varys measures my reaction before turning to Lucy, "yes. I suppose one such as myself has no business speaking of such things." He raises a finger, "still, if you should ever need assistance with that or your stray, know that my services are available to you, my lady."
I smile at him and nod, "I thank you for it, Lord Varys."
With that, he walks away.
"Do you think he will tell him?" Lucy asks as she grabs my arm.
I sigh and turn Daisy.
I've only had her for few days but she's given me purpose. I named her Daisy because she turned up from a bush of daisies while I read in the gardens. I was shocked, puzzled with how she got there, and a little scared she would bite me. When I noticed her injury, I figured she must be very weak and offered her food. She had my heart the moment she licked my fingers.
It was fate, I figured. I had not read in the gardens since the Hound berated me for it, and she came out of nowhere. When I imagine what would have happened to her if anyone else found her, I dread to think of the fact she could have been struck dead. The gods must have sent her to me, to remedy my sorrow and fill in for the absence of my Hound.
I was meant to save Daisy, and she was meant to save me.
I shake my head, "I'll have someone keep her tonight."
The Hound stops in his tracks when he witnesses what he does from afar. A blazing fury engulfs him as he watches two women walk away. The guard, who was spoken to, ogle their figures as they did.
Sandor laughs under his breath, but of course, nothing about this situation was funny to him.
He immediately charges when the guard is left alone, stupidly attending to an open crate-- he'll fucking bash it into his skull.
The guard goes back to his post and spots the approaching giant. At first, he is unfazed by the Hound but fear quickly finds him when he realizes he was heading straight for him.
He does not speak. The Hound simply grabs him by the chest plate, lifts him up and slams him on to the stone wall. He was angry-- worse, he was irrational.
"Why was she speaking to you?!" he snaps, "what business do you have with her?!"
The guard does not waste a second in spilling his guts, "Lady Clegane paid me to watch her dog!" He sounded like he was about to piss his pants.
"What?!" he seethes.
"The crate! The crate! There's a dog in the crate!" 
Sandor shoves him away and walks toward the crate. Lo and behold, the Hound sees the mutt, fur a light shade of brown, tongue out as it pant, right arm curled up.
He draws his sword.
Lucy and I head back to my chambers after eating supper. Our chattering is abruptly cut when he step in and see the Hound's hulking figure.
To say I am shocked is an understatement. I am terrified. He has not come to my chambers since the day after our wedding night, and now, here he was after Lord Varys confronted me. I struggle to swallow the lump in my throat, "my lord, I-"
"Don't you have one too many dogs now?" he growls.
Lucy is unable to hide the sound that leaves her mouth. My eyes begin to water as trepidation rips up my neck. I whisper, "Sandor."
Sandor flinches. He huffs, "what were you doing with it? You playing dolls with it, girl?"
"I saved her!" I explain with a shaky voice. "I fed her, gave her water-"
"Its leg is broken. You keep it in a crate. It's mercy for me to kill it."
Lucy gasps. My stomach drops and I run up to him, "no. Please. Please, tell me you didn't-"
I start when I see something move on the bed. I let out a shaky breath when a bark echoes in the room. I had never been more relieved to see Daisy than now.
Sandor growls, "OFF!" He marches to the bed and charges at the her. I shriek and grab his arm, holding him back. Of course, I nearly shoot forward for what was my strength against his? Still, he turns back to me and huffs. Daisy jumps down the bed and comes to my side.
Lucy grabs her and leads her to the corner of the room.
I continue to beg, "please, don't kill her. Please, I beg of you."
"You pay the guards to watch the mutt," Sandor yanks his arm away; the action hurts my hand. He seethes, "you're better off selling the bitch to a butcher as pig food."
I wail, "it was only this time! I have kept her with me since before." I drop to my knees, "please, I will ask nothing more of you," hot tears burn down all the way down to my chest. "I beg that you just let her live."
Sandor steps back and looks down at me. I can see how pathetic he thinks I am at this moment, and yet I find myself unable to care.
"You will ask me nothing more, aye?" he scoffs. His lips curl, "don't you want a child?"
My expression drops.
"You would rather save the bitch than have a babe?"
I am unable to speak. 
Why is he doing this to me?
"Well?!" he demands.
I screw my eyes shut when some of his spit sputters to my face. I turn to the floor, "she's been keeping me company in your absence. She's-"
"Ah, so that's why she feels so comfortable on the bed. You sleep with her."
I look up at him, about to explain that she sleeps on the floor and has never done that before. I do not have the chance.
"Well then keep your stray," he scoffs, "and have it fuck a babe into you."
The Hound storms off right after.
He grips his hand and his hilt as he marches away.
He should have killed it, he shouldn't have hesitated. The only reason he did was because it didn't flinch at his sword. The mutt was so dumb it had no fear. It even propped on the crate and tried sniffing the steel. Brainless.
His insides feel like they were boiling.
He knew the little girl would weep if he killed it, yet he didn't and there were tears anyway. He curses loudly. It reverberates in the hall.
He should have killed it.
Now it was too late.
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"I see you make friends even with stray cats now, my lady."
I look over my shoulder after the cat I was petting runs off because of the voice. Lord Baelish comes up to me, sparing a quick glance to the orange feline that jumped down the wall. He turns back to me with a smile, "pardon me, Lady Clegane, I did not mean to frighten the kitty."
I shake my head, returning a soft smile. I wrap my arms around myself, still not entirely used to the light fabric and freeness of the dresses I've been wearing lately, "it's alright, my lord. The cats do not like people."
Baelish walks in front of me and smiles wider, "they must see you their goddess then."
I shake my head and give a soft chuckle.
"Where is your hound?" he asks.
I stiffen.
He clarifies, "I mean the one with the broken leg."
I release a breath and look out to the view, "I had my handmaiden bathe her."
"Mmm," Baelish looks out to the view with me, "thus why you sought the cats."
A breeze brushes past us.
I do not turn to him, but I know he turns to me. He speaks, "one such as you should not be left alone or unaccompanied."
"Why? Would you hurt me, Lord Baelish?"
He chuckles, "and risk getting mauled by the Hound? I would not."
I watch as a flock of birds fly overhead.
"Other things perhaps," he says.
I do not respond to him.
A moment passes with nothing but looking and silence.
I feel his hot breath when he sighs deeply, "I remember clearly the day I first met you."
Baelish speaks my first name and it's enough to finally make me to turn to him. In truth, my name sounds foreign to me. Who I was has been long overshadowed by Lady Clegane... or, more accurately, the Hound himself.
"You were a vibrant flower. Your fragrance wafted through the room the moment you stepped in," he says, taking one step closer. "Being around you was a privilege; conversing with you, a prize."
I blink at his words, taking in the lines of his face, "and now," I clasp my hands together, "I've withered away, have I?"
His Baelish-blue eyes appear to be solemn. My lips part when he takes my hands in his. He speaks under his breath, "you are more radiant than ever."
I do not move an inch.
"Take heart," he speaks my name again, "hounds are crushed under heels of goddesses."
I pull away from him and shake my head, "do not speak blasphemy with me."
He laughs, bringing his hands behind him, "ever devout and god-fearing." He raises an arm, "shall we part ways by the stables? I will be heading out of the keep."
I debate for a moment. Ultimately, I offer polite smile and decide to agree.
We walk with no sense of urgency. I never knew Petyr to be one for small talk, and so I am surprised that he asks me about my dresses. In truth, I really shouldn't have been.
"Your dresses are Dornish, are they not?" he raises a brow.
"Dornish-like," I clarify, "it was my usual tailor that made my new dresses. I feared if I asked a Dornish tailor for a modest silhouette, I'd be colder than I am now."
We share a soft laugh.
He shrugs, "the style suits you still," he smiles. "Undoubtedly, the Dornes would love to dress you in their more traditional clothing."
I purse my lips and raise my brows, "wouldn't you like that, Petyr?"
He chuckles, slightly in disbelief by the casual referral. He raises his hands, "I said the Dornes. I am not Dornish, my dear."
When we reach the stables, I stop in my tracks, not because we're about to depart, but because his words freeze me in my spot.
"Surely, our Lord Clegane finds it hard to keep his hands off you."
I do my best to stay neutral, to not give myself away. Baelish holds back a smirk.
"Wouldn't you like to know what me and Lord Clegane get up to?"
Baelish laughs, "if I'm being honest, I do."
I roll my eyes at him and nod dismissively, "farewell, my lord."
He nods back with a chuckles, "and you, my lady."
I promptly head to my chambers after this. As I walk on, however, I remember that another day has passed with me not seeing Lord Clegane. I am unsure if it was deliberate or coincidental, but it was the fact either way.
It had been a handful of days since my monthly bleeding passed. I was never a regular bleeder, and when it came this time around, it stayed longer than usual. I was glad with his absence then, in not needing to explain myself to my him. The moment it had finished, however, I expected I would at least see him once.
I did not.
This lead to my decision to be more... seductive.
And, well yes, or course, he yelled at me and told me to have my bitch fuck me instead-- truly, there was a large pit of dread in my stomach because of this, but people say a lot of things in anger, things they don't mean. He could not have meant that.
I rub my belly, willing the dread away.
I refuse to believe he meant that.
I suck in a breath and decide to head to the king's chambers.
Besides, I've been assured over and under that men really like making babies.
My breath hitches when I catch sight of the Hound, guarding the door. I see him do a double take when he spots me, and yet he gazes into space in the end.
"Good evening, my lord," I curtsy at him.
He grunts with exasperation, "what are you doing here?"
"I wanted," I measure my words carefully, "to request you not stay out late tonight."
The man turns his head fully to me, "what?"
I feel my throat itch. I clear my throat, "I was hoping that you come to my chambers before too late."
Sandor shifts in his spot. He eyes me up and down. I feel like I am being burned alive under his gaze.
He looks away and shifts back in place.
I open my mouth but I don't get to speak at all.
"Dog. Dog! Come inside, I-" King Joffrey calls but then ceases when he steps out of the room and sees me. 
I immediately curtsy, "my king. Good evening."
Joffrey raises a brow and demands to know why I'm here, referring to me by the house I was born into.
I offer him a smile, "I wanted to speak to my lord husband, your grace."
His face contorts in deep bewilderment. He opens his mouth and raises a finger, "why would you come h-" he turns to the Hound and stops himself. He breaks into a laugh. He laughs so hard that he clutches his stomach, "oh!" He wheezes, "oh, I've forgotten about that!"
King Joffrey calms down with a sigh. He from to his Kingsguard then to me, eyeing my attire. He chuckles under his breath as his eyes rake me down, "I see your wife has dressed to seduce you, dog." His looks up to my face, "or wouldn't that make you bitch?"
I do not respond for a moment, put on the spot by his malice, but then my wits finally meet me. I curtsy to the king, "I am what my king makes me to be."
Joffrey laughs airily. He shakes his head, "my, dog," he turns to his guard, "I've truly matched you well," he pats his shoulder plate, "too well, in fact."
He then retreats into his chambers, calling out as he did, "you're dismissed, dog. Breed your bitch as you like."
The door slams shut.
I release a breath once the king leaves, clutching my belly as I did so.
Sandor does not move an inch from his spot. He does not look at me.
I begin to get nervous all over again. I try, "husband?"
"You think I'll answer to your whistle just because you're dressed like a whore?"
My face hardens. I look away from him. I mean I expected as much.
I swallow the lump in my throat, "I only wanted to please you-"
He scoffs.
I look back at him, "I will dress more modestly if it is what you'd like."
"I'd like not to see you whoring around."
I am unable to withhold my scoff, "I am what my lord makes me out to be."
The Hound finally spares me a glance. I glare at him as I curtsy, "apologies for the impertinence." I turn on my heels and walk away. My anger and vexation gets the best of me. I cannot help but jeer, "if my dress angers you so, take it off me then."
Sandor shifts on his spot.
I continue down the hall.
His lips curl as he growls lowly, "run."
I do not hear anything but my own grumbling.
"Run, little girl!" he barks, making me jolt and turn back to him with a scowl. The irritation is apparent in my face as I stop at the end of the hall, "what?"
The Hound begins to march over. My heart races as I hear him warn, "run, if you know what's good for you"
I begin to shuffle back.
"I'll tear that shit off your body when I catch you."
I break into a sprint at the sound of his threat.
I don't look back. I heave heavily as I rush down the halls. I don't hear him chasing after me, though once I'm far, I see him treading fast as the times he's dragged me by the arm. My stomach flurries with anxiousness and regret.
When I reach my chambers, I mentally debate whether or not I should lock the door. I gulp at the idea of him breaking it down. I decide I do not want a memory such as that to be branded into my brain.
I gasp when he bursts into the room. I grip my skirts from the edge of the bed where where I sat.
The Hound locks the door before walking over to me. He grabs my shoulders and shoves me down on my belly.
I squeak when he grabs my skirts and rips it all the way up my ribs. He scoffs, "fucking parchment."
I hear him grab something by my vanity. I do not dare to look at him. I proceed to hear him undo his armor and his clothes.
I hear a pop. I yelp when he grabs my smallclothes and yanks them down. I groan into the cushions when I feel his fingers toy with my folds.
"Don' fink you nee' vis," he speaks like something was in his mouth. He pulls his hand away and suddenly the smell of my lavender oil assaults my senses. I hear a squelch. Something is thrown to my side; it's my vial.
I squeak when he grabs my hips. He sighs, "you're ready on your own." We both make noises when he begins to thrust into me. The Hound growls, "little girl likes to be chased."
I am shoved into the cushions. My entire body tenses.
"You want to dress like a whore," he taunts, "I'll fuck you like a whore."
His tempo is brutal and harsh. He does not relent or give me leeway. It's strange and shameful that my body even feels tingles of pleasure.
I cannot help the screams that rip out of my throat. Had I not been faced down on the cushion, I fear that I would have woken the dead.
I call out his name when he hoists my hips up. My toes could no longer touch the floor. He begins moving faster. My hands dig into the sheets. I feel my eyes water.
The Hound howls. He shoves me down and suddenly my feet are on the ground. He plunges deep, it makes my eyes roll back. His thrusts become increasingly irregular and after with a few more slaps, he stops.
I catch my breath, thanking the gods he's shown mercy.
I whine when I feel him pull away. I gulp and shift on my spot. I anticipate his next movements. I hear a rustle. I lift my head up and look back at him, confused by the sight of him tying himself up.
Was... was it done?
"Don't think to have that dress mended, girl," he pants as he grabs something from the floor. I roll on my back, feeling uneasy because of the wetness between my thighs. I watch him unlock the door and slam the door on his way out.
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All hells were breaking loose. King's Landing was under attack, the castle was on fire, and Stannis Baratheon was winning.
All the women and children holed up in the queen's retreat chamber spilled out to gods know where.
My mind was racing, yet all I could think was: run, flee, Lucy, Daisy, Hound.
I was already running. I was already fleeing. I was doing both with Lucy in my grip. I had Lucy, but I did not have Daisy.
We were running up to my chambers. I left Daisy there, my poor Daisy. We were fleeing up the stairs in haste, sparing no time to catch a breath.
I had no idea what we were to do. We could bar the door, block it with our bed. Lucy and I could manage it, I think. Was it a good idea? Would it guarantee our safety? There was only one way we'd know.
I quickly open the door and lock it once Lucy and I are inside.
We take a moment to finally catch our breath. Lucy grabs my arms and I grab hers. I can feel her shaking. I rub her skin, "it will be alright. No harm will reach us here."
Lucy shakes her head, "milday, you and me both know that's not true."
My heart shatters when I catch the way her eyes water. "Shhh," I pull her into a hug, "have I ever failed you, Lucy?"
She seals her arms around me and whispers, "no."
"Nothing will happen to us," I rub her back, "I will protect you."
"And I, you," she pulls away, "as will Daisy," she wipes her tears before they fall, "and the 'ound."
We scream when we hear a voice in the room. We press our back against the wall and turn to the bed. A figure is sat on the floor by its side. What was said was, "your mutt is stupid."
Lucy and I clutch each other for dear life. I recognized that voice. I muster the courage to tiptoe towards the figure and breathe out shakily when I confirm the presence, "Sandor?"
The man turns to me as we walk up to him. Sandor had Daisy on his lap. She looked up and blinked at me before closing her eyes. She was being pet a bloody hand and did not mind at all.
"She was jumped on me when I walked in. She looked excited," he turns to Daisy, "stupid bitch. Anyone else would have chopped her up."
I find myself releasing a breath of relief. Here now was Daisy, and Hound. I had nothing left to think about.
I walk up to him, kneeling on his side. He turns to me. I examine his face, dirtied and bloodied, "are you hurt?"
He looks at me for a moment. I watch him slowly raise his hand. He cautiously touches my cheek. I clutch his wrist in my hands. He swipes his thumb on my skin, "save your tears." I didn't even know I shed them. "None of the fuckers got close enough to try."
He draws his hand back. He grunts as he gets to his feet. Daisy moves back, wobbling on her three legs; I move back too.
"Take your valuables," the Hound grunts, "we're fucking leaving."
I pull my head back. I watch the man survey the room.
Lucy runs up to my side and she wipes my cheek with her skirt. She watches the red collect on the fabric and wonders who it belonged to. She wagers it's not from her lord.
I shake my head in confusion as Sandor grabs a satchel and stuffs my jewelry in it, "I don't understand. Aren't you going to fight?"
"Fuck the fight," he quips as he shoves objects down and raids through the drawers and closets.
Lucy finishes wiping my face. I walk off and grab all my hidden pouches of gold. I hand it to Sandor, "what about the king?"
"Fuck the king," he takes the pouches and stuffs it into the bag, "fuck him especially."
Sandor then chucks the satchel to Lucy, who grunts when she catches it.
"The stupid fuck's done nothing but fuck around," he picks up Daisy, propping her front legs on his shoulder, "no good thing's come from that fuck." He takes me by the hand and mumbles, " 'cept for one."
He releases me only to unlock the door and hold me again. He does not let me go until we reach the outside of the keep.
The whole lot was in disarray; dead bodies, debris, and fire littered the scene. He hands me Daisy, and I struggle slightly to carry her, considering she was not a small breed. He walks not too far off and brings a wandering horse over.
It's a wonder we do not encounter anyone on this side of the castle, more so that we find a horse.
Sandor takes Daisy and puts her down before helping me mount the steed. My stomach rolls with how his touch lingered on my thigh once I was on.
Next, he took the satchel from Lucy and handed it to me. He then eyed her when she stepped forward, as if debating whether or not he wanted to bring her along. Before she or I could speak up about it, Sandor is already helping her climb up behind me. Lucy takes the satchel from me and eyes him after. He rolls his eyes.
He picked up Daisy and tried handing her to me. However, she struggled too much and could not fit in my arms, so he cursed and threw her back onto his shoulders. He grabbed the horse's reins and started walking.
"Fucking bitch, fucking wench, fucking horse, fucking war, fucking-"
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ladydostoevsky · 2 years
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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐈𝐈
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬, 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬
𝐓𝐖: 𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐮𝐬 𝐚𝐟, 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐭, 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭? 𝐀𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞?
𝐀/𝐍: 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐈 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐧𝐨💓
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𝐼 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡
It had been weeks since the incident between Aegon and Aemond. He is much better now, thank the gods. You didn't like how Aegon talked with you or how Aemond attacked his own brother for you, but you still loved them regardless.
The day was cold and rainy. You were sitting by the window in your chambers, thinking if you should try to write a new letter to Daemon and Rhaenyra, when you heard a knock. "Who is it?" you said. "The Queen Alicent, princess" "Let her in." The knight opened the door and let her walk into your chambers. She looked beautiful as always. Her long brown hair half braided up, half down. Her long green dress swaying with majesty. You stood up and bowed your hair "My Queen." She smiled and opened her arms while walking to you and hugged you. "Y/n, I have told you to call me just Alicent. You are like a mother to me." You ended the hug and sat by the window again, Alicent next to you. "And.. because of that.. We- I have thought about something. Something that would be blessing to… our house," hearing that made you nervous. You never liked political family stuff. You were once afraid that now that she is the queen, she and Viserys are gonna marry you to her father, Otto Hightower, whose wife died years and years ago. Because you knew how much she views you as her mother figure. You have never been married to anyone or had children. You can thank your brothers for this, who for some reason never married you off. But the next words made you even more uneasy. "Mother, I would like you to marry with Aemond…or even my father. I know from a fact that Aemond would love that and my father has always been good and kind to you. We could unite our families even more," she smiled at you. You frowned and stood up, hand on your chest, looking at Alicent in shock. "Alicent. I have great respect towards your family. Your father, you, your children. I love them all dearly but… I can't marry them. Even the King wouldn't allow it." "Don't worry, I will talk with him, Father will talk with him." You looked at her sadly. "Daemon would take their heads, I know that." "He won't," she smirked. "I will make sure myself that he will not. Think about it. I'm not forcing it, it's just an offer." She stood up and walked in front of you and took your hands in hers. "You will finally have your own children. Your own white haired princes," she smiled, dreaming about your children playing with Aegon's and Helaena's children, later them marrying. You didn't know what to say and took your hands from hers shakely.
"Oh yeah I almost forgot. I got you a present, mother." One of the maids who was standing beside your big chamber doors came beside Alicent and bowed to you. She carried a big, green cloth. Alicent took it and unfolded it. It was a long, green and golden dress, with long sleeves and a low cut chest, where you assumed you could see the chest pretty well. You felt harassed already, the marriage talk and now this? why would she…
"It belonged to my mother once, then me. After my second pregnancy it doesn't fit anymore. It would be a shame to just throw it away." "Alicent… I'm thankful but… it's Green." "Is something wrong with Green? Green would suit you perfectly. It's just a color, does it matter if it's Red, Green… Black?" You felt it was wrong, but.. It was a pretty dress indeed and you loved new dresses. "Alright then, thank you, your grace." You took it and put it on your bed, feeling very uneasy but you just ignored it. You didn't see the smirk Alicent had on her face when she stood behind you, watching you as you studied your present.
⎯⎯⎯
Could there be a worse day to wear a green dress that had been in the Hightower family for decades than today?
No.
You were walking around the castle, doing your duties, the green dress sitting neatly on you, the cut of the neck showing a bit of your breasts and the skirt flying in the wind. You got many compliments from your brother's children today, the maids looked at you with wide eyes but didn't dare to say anything. At least they have something to gossip about in the following weeks.
You turned from behind a corner when you suddenly saw four people on your left. "Rhaenyra? Daemon?" You whispered what caught their attention. You ran to Daemon and flew into his embrace. "Brother. Is it a vision? Am I dreaming?" you sobbed silently while whispering to him. He hugged you strongly back. "Sister. It's me. I'm here now. I'm back." Seconds went and you broke the hug. You looked at Rhaenyra beside him, she also flew into your embrace and almost cried out. She had been praying for months for this moment to happen. "Aunt." ''Oh my darling. Welcome home,'' your greeting had ended and both of them looked at you up and down with concerned and rather angry looks.
You haven't changed much. The same long silver hair and lilac eyes, the same friendly smile they loved so much. But something has changed.
You were wearing Green.
They looked at you up and down in disbelief. "Sister, since when did you start wearing green?," asked Daemon carefully. "Oh this, Alicent gave it to me as a present. She didn't want it anymore." Rhaenyra and Daemon looked at each other.
"You two have grown a lot. Lucerys, Jacaerys. Such a handsome faces. Velaryon and Targaryen blood are truly wonderful." You moved in front of your grand-nephews. Your comment made them both blush which made you laugh. "Maybe you two would like to see the training ground again? I believe you remember where it is?" they nodded. "Yes, my princess," said Jacaerys while bowing. They then run off before they would embarrass themselves. You looked at Rhaenyra and Daemon again. "I have sent you many letters but I haven't got any replies." You started. They looked confused. "You have? We haven't gotten any letters from King's Landing in four years, aunt. We already thought you forgot us," she smiled but inside she was flaming with rage. "I don't understand." You heard footsteps coming from behind you, you turned around and saw Alicent walking towards you. "I think I do." Rhaenyra whispered mainly to herself while looking at Alicent. She reached your side. "Mother, I have searched for you to tell we have guests but it seems you already know," she said, looking at Rhaenyra and Daemon. "We have been waiting for you." Rhaenyra glanced at you knowing well that you knew nothing about them coming here, "yeah, I can see." You interrupted. "I'm sorry but I have to continue with my duties. We will catch up later. Niece, brother, my Queen." You bowed and walked away. Alicent's face fell and Rhaenyra faced her, "I think we need to talk…mother."
⎯⎯⎯
The trial over the succession was a catastrophe. You of course stood with Rhaenyra. You really believe that Luke and Jace are Ser Leanor's sons. You stood next to the boys, still in your green dress which made a lot of people question you and the situation, but you didn't care. You wear it because it's a gift from your sister-in-law, nothing more. The Greens looked at you the whole trial, not believing you would stand with the Blacks. Then Viserys came, which surprised and shocked everyone. You were so proud of him, despite him slowly dying, he came for his daughter. You were proud of Daemon for helping Viserys, for standing up for Rhaenyra and killing Vaemond. You don't like violence but he deserved it for calling your niece a whore, your grand-nephews bastards, threatening your brother and calling you a traitor.
⎯⎯⎯
After that was time for the dinner feast with your family. You had changed your dress to black and silver one, to match with Rhaenyra. To be honest Green didn't suit you at all.
It gave you dejavu sitting next to Baela and Lucerys, opposite of Daemon. You remembered the old times when your little family was still all together. Viserys at the head of the table, Aemma at his right and little Rhaenyra next to her, Daemon at his left and you next to Daemon. Sometimes rarely young Alicent also joined. Everything has changed so much over the years.
The Greens didn't like that you were sitting so far from them but they had to pretend that everything is alright to keep you here. You picked up your wine cup and stood up. Everyone looked at you smiling. "Finally my whole family is together. Words couldn't describe the love and happiness I feel when I look at each one of you. Baela, Jacaerys, Lucerys and Rhaena. Blessed be this engagement, you deserve all the happiness. Daemon, Viserys, I couldn't wish for better brothers than you two. Alicent, Otto, thank you for everything you have done. Holding up the Kingdom and helping my brother. Rhaenyra, Aegon, Helaena and Aemond. You four bring more joy and light into my days than I could ask for and I love you all so much. Let the heavens reunite us all after our time." Everybody drank for that. Everybody got more proudness of your words.
After that Jacaerys and Helaena were dancing, everybody was laughing and having fun, until Viserys had to go to rest again. You were talking with Baela and Rhaena when suddenly Aemond hit the table harshly and stood up. "Final tribute, to the health of my nephews. Jace, Luke and Joffrey. Each of them are handsome, wise… strong boys." You facepalmed. "You want to say it again?!" Jace screamed. "What, you don't think you're strong?" Aemond mocked him. You gave him a look of disapproval. He brought his attention to you now. "Also, toast to our lovely y/n, my future wife." Everything went silent after that, the music stopped, everyone was staring between Aemond and you. Every Black including you shouted, "WHAT?!" "Aemond… it isn't decided yet-" "It is actually. I have decided to take you as my own and give you my children. Everyone agreed." "Not everyone," sighed Aegon to himself sadly, but only Helaena heard that. You looked at Alicent for answers, to help you understand. She looked very angrily at Aemond. ‘’Like y/n said, it’s…it’s not decided yet. Aemond go to your room, now,’’ said Alicent with rage. Aemond started to walk to you when Daemon blocked his way. ‘’You boy, stay away from my sister. Caraxes doesn't have good mood today. He also is pretty hungry right now, if you know what I mean.’’ Aemond wasn’t a fool, he knew he would never stand a chance against his uncle.
Yet.
You looked at Aemond with sadness, betrayal and anger. He smirked, bowed to you, said ‘’my princess’’ and left. He will get you, he always gets what he wants, one way or another. Daemon turned around, took your forearm harshly and pulled you up from your seat and led you out of the feasting room. The situation didn’t look very good.
‘The Gods have mercy on me’
⎯⎯⎯
𝑇𝐴𝐺𝐿𝐼𝑆𝑇:
@caludie-080102 @percythebitchwitch @srevan @tachibubu @applepyesworld @three-legged-chair @duhitzdae @alexisabirdie @penteknati @a--marbella---09
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themultifandomgal · 5 months
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Isaiah Jesus- We’re Getting Married
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When I told my brothers that Isaiah and I were getting married, they were not happy. I am the youngest Shelby, as Arthur puts it 'our baby sister'. Thankfully though my brothers came around and now here I stand smoothing down my dress as Esme places my vail in my hair
"You look beautiful YN" Lizzie gushes
"Thank you, but so do you both" I look at Esme and Lizzie through the mirror in front of me
"Ready?"
"Yeah" I smile turning around to Lizzie
"I'll go let Arthur know" she says leaving the room. A few minutes later Arthur knocks the door with his hand over his eyes
"We're all decent you can come in" I tell him. He takes his hand away and I can already see the tears in his eyes "don't cry because you'll make me cry"
"I'm sorry. It's just... my baby sister is getting married"
"Ok no smudging the makeup" Esme says stopping both me and Arthur from crying
"I think Isaiah is waiting" Lizzie places her hands on her hips
"Your right. Come on" Arthur holds his arm out for me to take.
As I wait for the doors to open to reveal Isaiah I start fidgeting
"Don't be nervous"
"I'm not. I'm excited. I love him Arthur"
"I know you do" finally the doors open and in walk Lizzie and Tom, then Esme and John. Then in walk my bridesmaids and finally Arthur walks me to Isaiah who's stood at the end of the aisle looks so freaking good. I notice he's got a tear running down his smiling face which cause me to cry a little. Arthur gives Isaiah my hand then kisses my cheek before taking his seat next to the rest of my family
"Welcome" the priest starts "today we are here to witness the marriage and bond between YN and Isaiah. Are you prepared, as you follow the path of marriage, to love and honor each other for as long as you both shall live?"
"I do"
"I do" we both respond
"Before we start. Is there anyone here who has reason that these two should not marry?" Thankfully neither Isaiah or I have to be nervous about anyone standing up "since it is your intention to enter the covenant of Holy Matrimony, join your right hands, and declare your consent before God and his Church" Isaiah and I hold hands
"I, take you , to be my wife. I promise to be faithful to you, in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love you and to honor you all the days of my life" Isaiah says looking into my eyes. I repeat what he says
"May the Lord in his kindness strengthen the consent you have declared before the Church and graciously bring to fulfillment his blessings within you. What God has joined, let no one put asunder. May the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, the God of Jacob, the God who joined together our first parents in paradise, strength and bless in Christ the consent you have declared before the Church, so that what God joins together, no one may put asunder. receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity. In the name of the father, and the son, and the Holy Spirit. Who has the rings?" The priest asks. Charlie steps forward with both of our rings. Isaiah then takes my left hand
"Receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity. In the name of the father, and the son, and the Holy Spirit" he then places the ring on my finger. I repeat
"Now let us humbly invoke God's blessing upon this bride and groom, that in his kindness he may favor with his help those on whom he has bestowed the Sacrament of Matrimony. In the sight of God and these witnesses, I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may now kiss" the room is filled with applause while Isaiah and I share a kiss.
It's now the after party at the Garrison and I've changed into something a little more comfortable so I can dance in. Isaiah and I had our first dance then Arthur clears his throat
"Can I have everyone's attention" I take Isaias hand in mine "I'd like to raise a toast to my sister and now brother in-law. Now when you first starting courting I wasn't happy" this makes us all laugh "in all seriousness though, I saw the way YN looked at you and the way you looked at her. It's a love that can't be ignored. I can't wait to see where life takes you both, but no babies yet I'm still not recovered from this wedding" again this makes everyone laugh "to YN and Isaiah"
"To YN and Isaiah" everyone shouts before we all take a sip of the champagne. I turn to my now husband and look up at him
"I love you"
"I love you too" he leans down and kisses my lips.
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nrdmssgs · 6 months
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can you write something with reader and gromsko and how gromsko would treat her if she was his wife? i’ve heard some seriously questionable things about polish people from my boyfriend, he could be biased but from what i know they are super misogynistic and gromsko gives off traditional vibes yknow.
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Wow, that is a very interesting request, actually!
First of all, I am very sorry, that your boyfriend had bad experience with Polish people and I really hope, that things get better. My very first work was in a Polish company, and I've met the sweetest, nicest people there. There was literally one issue - I was young, tiny and underweight, and they all felt sorry about that and constantly tried to feed me.)) So the reason I'm telling this here is to highlight, that there are so many different people in every country.
I don't have anything against authors, who chose to depict him as very traditional (in a negative way) person. It is always important to not forget, such people exist. But I want to offer you a slightly different approach to him. Let's just call it an experiment and see, if it works both for you and me, ok? We will keep this guy traditional more or less, but shift him to a non-toxic side.
Husband Gromsko HCs
Long before the marriage, he takes you with him on a trip across Poland to meet his relatives. Won't stop until you meet everyone. Grannies, aunties, nieces - everyone. You are about to become part of his family and it's important to him, that you are truly integrated in the family and shown love from every single part of it.
He asks his parents to bless your marriage, and definitely asks your parents to let him make a proposal to you. It is not that he is dependent - he was raised in a culture, where respect to elderly is everything.
Regardless of how devout he and you are (even if you are an atheist), Gromskо will persuade you to a traditional wedding ceremony.
If you do not belong to any church or are simply a representative of another faith, he will not rest until he persuades the priest of his native church to allow you two to marry.
Yes, this guy will start to fight for your marriage long before it even starts. He doesn't try to force you into faith though. If needed - he is ready to pray for you both. Because you are his love and Sobieslaw has enough faith to keep you in Gods good books.
Once you are his, truly and finally his - Sobieslaws mind is all concentrated on two objectives: domesticating you and welcoming children in your family.
His biggest fear is to fail you. And in his mind, keeping you on your work equals failing you. If you worry about money - it means to Gromsko, that he doesn't provide well enough.
It will take a lot of talking to change his mind. But eventually he will understand. No matter, what he is taught to believe - you, his wife, love of his life, come first. Always. If you are 100% sure, this is the way, you want to live - he will support your choice to keep your work.
He wants children. Not a single child - children. It will break his heart, if you are not in the same boat with him on that one. He won't push you too hard, won't give ultimatums - but he will constantly try to bring the similar wish into your mind.
He is a 'look how adorable these little ones', 'look how tiny this baby beanie is' type of guy. Watches his friends kids on the playground, while embracing you lovingly and whispering 'they are sweet, but our little treasure would be the sweetest'.
If you are as enthusiastic as he is, and you get pregnant - prepare to meet doctor Gromsko. He won't leave your side, not for a day, even if it affects his career. Who gives a f**k about work stuff, when the most important person out there prepares to gift him the second most important person in his life?
He will monitor you constantly, take you to every single check up, make sure you get all the essential vitamins, have enough of fresh air daily and NO stress.
Will welcome his child with tears, will cover your face with frantic, desperate kisses afterwards. "Dziękuję kochanie... dziękuję, dziękuję,dziękuję*!"
Gromsko loves it, when everybody knows, that you are his and he is yours. So please, if you take off your wedding ring for any reason - wear it on a chain as a necklace. Otherwise, he will be terrified, that it is a sign, you don't want him by your side anymore.
He is constantly worried, you might get sick, so he makes sure, you are always warm, you eat well (no matter what your body type is, his granny will still call you too thin, so Sobieslaw will worry about that), you get health checkups every now and then (even if you are feeling perfect!!!).
The most supporting guy, if you decide for any reason, that you don't want to work actively and choose to stay at home.
Gromsko won't just settle with 'ok, good, now I finally have a stay at home wifey'. He will make sure, you like every part of your home, have enough time and space for your hobbies, feel safe and loved.
By the way, the guy looks like the 'I'll build our house on my own' type. Who, if not him, knows better, what makes an ideal home for you and him? Of course, you can choose all the decorations, materials and so on. But he is the one, doing the building.
Dziękuję kochanie… dziękuję, dziękuję,dziękuję - Thank you, love... thank you, thank you, thank you.
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wardenparker · 8 months
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The Viper's Bride - ch 16
Oberyn Martell x female reader x Ellaria Sand x OC Co-written with @absurdthirst
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The second Prince of Dorne has lived under the illusion that he would not be forced to wed for his entire life. He has enough lovers and illegitimate children to make him a legend across Westeros, and the love of his soulmate Ellaria Sand to content him. But a contract between his brother and a lord from the north will catapult him into a match that may prove to be as complicated as it is intriguing. Especially when he learns that you already have a soulmate of your own.
Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 13.1k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: terrible parents, age gap 10+ years, arranged marriage, classicism, cursing, food and alcohol, internalized homophobia. Reader is described as having hair long enough to braid. This is a MMFFF polycule, folx. Get on board or don't click to keep reading. Pregnancy!* It's time orgy, friends! MMMFFFF group sex. Oral sex (m and f receiving), hand job, fingering, anal play, anal sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, pregnant sex, rough sex, multiple partners. dirty talk, voyeurism, substance use, sexual experience enhanced by substance use. Canon typical violence, poison, graphic depictions of violence, mentions of sexual assault (Elia's), eye gore, murder, character death. Summary: The night before Oberyn fights in the Trial by Combat holds special meaning for your group, and for Raeden in particular. And the fight itself? Is worse than you could ever imagine. Notes: Well, my loves. This is it 🧡 The final chapter of Oberyn's soulmate extravaganza. Next week will be the epilogue and then we'll dive into spooky season head first with Max Phillips' soulmate story the week after that!
Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13 ~ Ch 14 ~ Ch 15
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It is almost surreal to watch your father and brother step away together. The tension that had filled the room seems to dissipate all at once, and you fall down again in your seat beside Raeden with a sigh. “That was…unexpected.”
“Completely astounding.” Oberyn muses thoughtfully, still reclined in his chair and shaking his head. “Fate is playing in your life, Star. The Gods have truly taken an interest.”
“Perhaps.” Looking around you at the table, it feels hard to deny. Otherwise why would those same gods have blessed you with so much love and companionship? “Perhaps I am simply very lucky. Who can say?”
“You will be very lucky tonight.” Raeden predicts with a salacious grin, his fingers still stroking his wife’s arm, although he is grazing the curve of her breast.
“I believe that will be you, my love.” Your prediction carries equal weight, considering Oberyn’s dark eyes turned to Raeden the moment your father and Salin had left your chambers. “My husband looks as though he might pounce.”
“I must admit that I am eager for the rest of our night to begin.” Draining the rest of his wine out of his cup, he passes it to Ellaria to refill as he stands. Striding over to the other man and caressing his jaw with one finger as he looks down at him. “Take off your clothes.” He orders huskily.
There could not be a more obvious signal to the whole party that the night has officially begun, and Raeden’s calmly curved grin of anticipation tucks itself into the corner of his mouth as he reaches for the ties of the robe over his shirt and trousers. “As my prince commands,” he intones, knowing from many nights of seeing you and Ellaria use that same line to entice him, that Oberyn enjoys the acknowledgment of his power during sex.
His eyes shift to Margaery: “Tonight, you will watch your husband take my cock.” He informs her. “The best pleasure he will have will be if he cums inside another. You or any of the other lovely ladies or Cal can be under him if you wish to be.”
"My husband can cum in whomever he chooses." Margaery hums, having found very quickly that she enjoys the shared pleasure of multiple partners. "As long as I have a beautiful woman's thighs on either side of my head, I do not mind if it is me or someone else."
“You should watch, lover.” Ellaria coos as she smirks slightly. “Let me lick your cunt while you watch, you will not regret it.”
"I would be a very stupid woman to give up that kind of offer." Margaery grins, leaning in to brush a kiss across Ellaria's lips.
Ellaria cups her lover's face while you look on, kissing her passionately. “Cal, Leyth?” Oberyn looks over at the couple who have been serving faithfully. “Would you like to join us in our pleasure tonight?”
"Please." Leyth is already nodding halfway through the question, clutching Cal's hand in eager anticipation. "We...have missed being asked to join you. Very much."
“We have not wanted you to feel as if you have to join us.” Oberyn knows the couple is aware of the changing dynamic and the time needed to adapt.
"The freedom to choose is not lost on us," Leyth assures him, always grateful that that choice has been afforded to them and that their choices are actually respected. "So let us say that tonight we eagerly choose to accept your invitation."
“Fuck.” Raeden pauses before he shucks his breeches and laughs. “Is this to be a proper orgy, in the Red Keep?”
"Why should we not?" You have stood from the table as well, and share in Raeden's amusement. "Cersei already assumes it is what we do every night. We might as well make her correct just once."
“Then I hope that all the lords and ladies around us complain about the noises we make.” He decides with a grin, feeling completely free for the first time and reveling in it.
"We will make sure of it." Ellaria promises, cradling Margaery at her side and nipping at the sensitive skin beneath her ear.
Leyth turns and gives her lover a soft kiss on his lips before she moves towards you. “Princess…” she murmurs softly, having wondered what you kiss like or if you would want her to touch you.
“Come here…” Beckoning her closer, you offer her an encouraging smile and readily meet Leyth’s lips for a kiss.
She’s relieved, her own admiration and respect for you growing into a crush that she has been unable to express. Sliding her hands up and cupping the back of your head with greedy hands.
It is surprising but not unwelcome, the enthusiasm that Leyth has for the kiss drawing you in more and more to explore what is being offered to you. Leyth is stunning — you have always thought so, even since the first day you set foot in the brothel — and you are not about to turn up the chance to know her better tonight when everyone will be indulging in whomever they please.
Ellaria hums in pleasure as she sees that everyone is very well occupied. Smirking at her soulmate’s wife, she starts to pull off her dress. “We should get comfortable.”
“I have never been more comfortable in my life,” Margaery promises her, following the cue and beginning to undress Ellaria in turn. Her Dornish dress is much simpler and easier to remove, making Margaery remember the first time — not so long ago — that you had pouted about the complexity of northern dresses. It is a welcome feeling, to connect the two experiences, and the younger woman hums happily at how easy it is to slip her hand inside Ellaria’s dress and palm the welcome weight of her breast with one hand.
“We will enjoy ourselves immensely.” Ellaria moans breathlessly when the other woman pinches her nipple. With sexual freedom, Margaery Tyrell, now Sunstone, has quickly developed the skills that most whores only dream of when pleasuring another woman. “If I lick every cunt and fuck every cock, it will be a good night.”
“Perhaps we should make that our new motto,” Margaery suggested, giggling immensely even as her other hand is working diligently to slip Ellaria’s dress away from her skin. “For nights such as this, I cannot think of anything better.”
Raeden stands naked in front of Oberyn, his cock already hard and jutting out proudly, making both Oberyn and Cal groan as they look on. “How do you want me?” He asks, slightly breathless as he shivers in anticipation. It has been so long since he has felt a man’s touch, and this man, both of these men, are beautiful and he wants to embrace the freedom he has been given by your marriage to the man who is going to fuck him.
“However the prince wants us, he will have us both.” Cal can barely keep himself from touching, but he has been privy to how long Oberyn has waited to have Raeden in his bed. He can very easily wait his turn so the prince can have what he wants.
“Lay down on the bed.” Oberyn orders both men. “Cal, strip down as well.” He grunts, satisfied that he will be able to have everything he wants tonight. “Show me what it looks like to have the two of you kiss.”
It is an achingly easy set of instructions to follow, and if Cal were wearing something other than the robes that the prince had given him befitting his station, he might have simply torn them off. As it is he struggles to get them off as quickly as possible and follows Lord Sunstone onto the bed to all but fall into the larger man’s arms. He has wondered endlessly what the new lord will be like to have his hands on and it takes him no time at all before he is moaning against Raeden’s lips.
Cal is lithe, yet there is strength in his touch and embrace. Raeden doesn’t even hesitate, one large hand sliding down his chest and over his abs to brush against the other man’s cock before wrapping his hand around it and giving him a gentle squeeze.
It is not unusual for this suite of rooms to be filled with the sounds of pleasure. In fact, each and every night there are people fucking in more of these beds than not. The difference is that tonight you are all in one room. Raeden is fisting Cal's cock on the bed with Oberyn kneeling over them with dark, predatory eyes as they kiss. Ellaria has Margaery spread out over the largest arm chair before the fire, carefully and methodically chasing her own touch down the younger woman's body with her tongue to taste every inch of her. And on the other side of the fireplace, Leyth has laid you down on the chaise to let you watch the proceedings as she eagerly learns what touches make you sigh and moan.
His eyes feast on the sight and his own fingers quickly pull at the ties and strings of his robes. Wishing to be as bare as his lovers. “His cock is wonderful.” He praises as he watches the dark hand glide up and down the lighter toned cock. “Now, I wish to taste yours.”
Raeden does not need to be told twice, rolling to his back with his hand still stroking Cal's length so that he does not have to give up any contact but still exposes every inch of himself to Oberyn's desires. "I am yours," he promises, and the truth of it rattles him more than he expected.
“Not yet.” Oberyn chuckles as he kneels on the bed, running his hands up the muscular calves of your soulmate. “But you will be.”
It is the kind of declaration that shoots to something visceral inside him, and Raeden's cock twitches unmistakably in response. "Then take me," he poses, his words laced with a seductive challenge that he knows Oberyn will not be able to resist. "Make me yours."
There’s a rough little growl the back of the Prince’s throat, smirking as he lunges forward and wraps his hand around the thick length of your lover’s cock to roll down the foreskin and prove to the new lord that despite his lofty status, he is not unskilled in the art of sucking a cock.
As determined as he had been to continue stroking Cal's length, Raeden's hand stutters immediately and he lets out a groan so deep that it seems to rattle the windows. His fingers dig into Oberyn's short hair, encouraging his movements without directing or pushing him, and Raeden's head falls back for just a moment as he shudders with the intensity of the prince's attentions.
It’s about pleasure, but it’s also about preparation. Oberyn knows it’s been years since Raeden has touched or been touched by another man. The last time was when he was a younger man. He is not used to taking a cock and will need to be stretched out. Taking his fingers down to the hole he wishes to possess, he smears his spit around it in a gentle massage.
The gasp and grunt that releases from somewhere deep in Raeden's body vibrates through his body and his fingers tighten in Oberyn's hair desperately. It has been far, far too long since he had this sort of experience and it is only now - having it offered to him on proverbial silver platter - that he realizes how deeply he has been missing it. Spreading his legs and reminding himself to relax, Raeden falls back onto the pillows which his next moan.
Cal decides that Raeden's too distracted for kissing, but his lips move down his chiseled jaw. Kissing along the smooth skin and down to flat, hard nipples so he can flick his tongue over them and help work the other man up. He knows he wants to be under this man while the prince fucks him, his own cock twitching at the thought.
"Gods above," Raeden chokes out, his head already swimming. There is something so singular about experiencing pleasure from someone of your own sex. A person who knows the intricacies of what touches and pressure bring pleasure because he himself has felt the pleasure that it brings. It makes Oberyn's tongue agile and sure, and every flickering touch from Cal is filled with confidence.
Oberyn chuckles and pulls off the cock with a satisfied sound. Lazily licking down his soft, full balls to take one into his mouth, still steadily rubbing, though he is adding more pressure. Not quite breaching the other man, but close.
It has Raeden squirming, trying to move toward the pressure he wants so badly without missing out on any of the touches he is already receiving – begging for more without saying a word.
Oberyn’s eyes find Margaery’s then yours in a slow perusal of the room. “Watch.” He orders, pulling his fingers away momentarily to wet them even more before slowly starting to push the first finger inside the man’s ring of muscles.
There is a collective holding of breath when Raeden moans, with every set of eyes watching as his own close in bliss. "Fuuuck..." It is low and growling and delicious and Raeden is laid out like a feast on the bed for Oberyn and Cal to devour.
The tight heat has Oberyn eager to sink into him, slowly pushing his finger deeper until it is sunk to his knuckle and then carefully searching for that wonderful little spot that makes every man keen when he is entered. The one that can make him cum without anything wrapped around his cock. “Why don’t you prepare Cal to take your cock like I am readying you?” Oberyn suggests as he smirks. “I think the man is salivating to be impaled on your cock.”
"Lover." His attention had been so singularly focused on Raeden that Oberyn has not noticed Ellaria slipping temporarily from the space between Margaery's thighs to bring him a bottle. "You will all be happier to have this," she suggests, setting the small, corked bottle of oil on the bed beside her soulmates.
“Thank you.” The oil will greatly aid the pleasure and he takes it with a small smile and a wink. “Thank you, sun.” He coos softly.
"I want to hear all three of you scream," she confides, diving into kissing Oberyn with her usual, dedicated, passion where she does not pull back again until she has relearned every contour of his mouth. "But only with pleasure."
“Tonight we will make the halls of the keep ring out in pleasure.” He chuckles before he unstops the bottle.
It is not a prediction that anyone doubts, but as the men turn back to each other to focus on pulling as many sounds as possible from each other in these early stages of pleasure, you stop Ellaria on her way back to Margaery. "Join us?" You almost beg her, having made room on the large chaise for more bodies. There is nothing you want more right now than your own tangle of limbs - all four women sharing space and sharing each other.
Smiling indulgently, Ellaria curls her finger towards Margaery before she leans in to press her lips to yours. “Shall we see how we can tangle our bodies together in pleasure, lover?”
Margeary comes to your sides like a moth to flame, practically moaning as she watches you and Ellaria sink into a deep kiss. "It is only fair," she decides, leaning down to kiss Leyth, as well. The curvaceous redhead had not escaped her notice for even a moment.
It is funny how the group has been separated, although not surprising. Leyth and Cal have discussed at length the dynamic, murmuring the dark from their own small, yet comfortable bed off the chambers. Now, tonight, is a fulfillment of those desires that have been repressed and it should be a night to recall fondly.
"My prince." Cal looks up from the nipple he has been lavishing attention on and his fingers, run down to tease Raeden's cock with a slow pump up and down his length. "At the brothel, we used to take this...herb, it kept our cocks hard after we had finished." He explains. "Perhaps tonight would be a good time to use it? To make sure everyone gets to exhaust themselves?"
In the middle of the conversation, very literally, Raeden’s hips buck subtly at the idea of such an increasing, wondering if the prince even needs such an aid. But then — there are seven of you. And that is an enormous amount of Fucking no matter who you are. “I—I would partake,” he agrees, eyes fixated on Cal’s hand.
He can't help himself, it's too tempting with the pearl of liquid that is pooling on the dark tip of his beautiful cock. Cal ducks his head and wraps his lips around the first inch of Raeden's cock while Oberyn's lubricated fingers push back inside him. Looking down at the prince, he wonders if he will agree because his own cock throbs at feeling both men inside him tonight.
“Does it help women?” Margaery asks with curiosity, thinking of all the ways this night might go. She has never had trouble becoming aroused for her partners before, but the idea of more is beckoning her tonight.
“It does.” The answer comes from Leyth. “It is why the women in the brothels are always so wet.” She tells you. It might be the one good thing Littlefinger did for his whores. Even if it was only so there was less probability of being hurt when fucking an unattractive client.
“Then perhaps we could all partake?” You look to your husband with curiosity. “Anything that enhances our pleasure tonight is surely welcome.”
“Would it hurt the babe?” That is the only reservation that Oberyn would have as he looks between the two servants.
“No.” Leyth shakes her head immediately. “Some of the girls…the ones who could bear children…they took the herb nearly every day but the babes were never affected.” She would never do anything to put your or the child in harm’s way, and dearly hopes that you and Oberyn know that.
Smiling slightly, Oberyn nods his head and looks at you with lust fueled eyes. “Yes, Star.” He agrees. “Anyone who wishes to take it, should.”
Cal moves gracefully from the bed to retrieve a simple metal box from the room he shared with Leyth. The powdered herb is familiar to them but not unwelcome, which was why they had kept it with them after leaving the brothel. The thought of one night in the future being like this was tempting. “Put a pinch of the powder under your tongue and let your spit wash it away,” he tells all of you, providing an example by demonstrating before he passes the little metal box around.
Leyth also demonstrates when the box reaches the ladies, moaning slightly at the familiar taste. “We will have a very good night.”
The powder is minty and dissolves quickly, leaving all of you looking a little more mischievous afterward. With debauchery ensured, you all tangled in each other’s arms immediately. The four women in the chaise are spread over every inch of the overlarge piece of furniture, and even with Leyth and Ellaria firmly between yours and Margaery’s thighs, you find your way to grope and lavish each other with kisses.
Oberyn groans at the taste of the herb and pulls Cal in for a kiss before turning his attention back to Raeden. “Now. I am going to ready you and I think Cal and I both will suck your cock.
It is not something either of the other men are going to object to, and Raeden falls back into the pillows with a groan. The sight of Oberyn and Cal twined together in a kiss would be enough to have him rock hard under almost any circumstance – but now they are bent over him so that his cock is receiving every lick of attention and it has set his entire body on fire.
Again, his fingers start to push back into Raeden’s body as he sucks on the man’s cock like it was the sweetest of treats. His tongue tangling with Cal’s as they try to wring cries of pleasure from him.
He is in ecstasy and there is no mistaking it. Raeden writhes and bucks under Oberyn and Cal's attentions, grasping at the sheets or their shoulders or anything he can get his hands on and you cannot tear your eyes away. "Look," you instruct Margaery, nudging her jaw with your nose and sucking a mark into the pale skin of her neck when her eyes move to the bed. "My husband is going to fuck yours, just like I fuck you."
"It is not quite the same, lover." She hums, her greedy eyes fixed on the way that her husband squirms and whines in need. "But just like they enjoy the sight of us wrapped up in one another, I will savor this view."
Of course it isn't exactly the same, but it is close enough to make you moan just at the sight of them -- which Leyth heightens with a stroke of her masterful tongue and chases with two fingers sliding inside your dripping pussy the way Oberyn's fingers are slipping deep inside Raeden. It is all like an incredible dream, and you truly hope that you will be able to sample every single pleasure possible tonight.
“You will look magnificent on my cock.” Oberyn groans, pulling off his leaking cock to purr pure filth to him. “Imagine our lovers walking in at any time to find you bent over, my cock buried in your ass and my hand wrapped around your cock as you moan my name.” He smirks. “Or on your knees, my cock in your mouth and Cal’s in your ass as we spit roast you, your leaking cock neglected until you cum from our attention.”
The entire room moans in unison at the images presented. There is not a single one person in this room who would not immediately climb into the bed and join in if they saw it. “If any of us walked into that, we would swallow every drop of cum and beg for more,” you predict, knowing that it is true for you at the very least.
“If he is bouncing on my cock, I expect you to ride his.” Oberyn chuckles, curling his fingers deep and pressing against his spot that immediately has Raeden keening.
He had forgotten. Or else thought that he was remembering the sensation with exaggeration. But the way pleasure courses through him with the press of Oberyn’s fingers on that specific, seemingly magical spot inside of him makes Raeden sure that this sensation is better than what he had felt years ago. Perhaps it is down to the skill of his partner but it is utterly remarkable. His broken cry to the gods is met with a moan from his wife when Ellaria sticks on her clit just so, and at once all of you seem to commit that much more to the debaucherous goal of the night.
"The Sunstones are having the time of their lives tonight." Oberyn quips, very pleased with himself as he finds that spot and curls his fingers against it again. If this herb works as well as Cal claims, he feels like Raeden will cum and cum and cum. He wants to see if his theory is correct.
“And we will make sure you do too,” Margaery promises, breathless, with one hand buried in Ellaria’s thick hair and the other squeezing the weight of your tit in her palm. Raeden squirms, panting his agreement and just trying to get as much of Oberyn’s fingers as possible inside him when he knows for certain that it is not enough. “More,” he begs, the word cracked with another moan even as his own hand is dedicated to making Cal ready in the very same way.
“You will.” He has no doubt of that. The night is too full of promise and he drinks in the moans of the group. “I will fuck every one of you tonight, including you, Lady Sunstone.”
“You too will be marked by her,” Raeden manages to tease even at the expense of another moan. He wears the marks from his wife’s fingernails like a badge of honor, and so do you. After tonight, all of you will.
“Vicious little tiger.” Oberyn chuckles, adding a third finger into her husband as he talks to Margaery.
He had asked for more, and he groans at getting it. His cock leaks precum, twitching and aching with need, and his back arches off the bed in eager anticipation. “Gods—yes—fuuuck—”
"How thrilling that I will possess both you and your wife tonight." He coos, smirking at the way Raeden's head tilts back. "Just as I have your soulmates." It's not meant to taunt him, just show him how he belongs here.
“As I have possessed yours.” Raeden grunts, groaning at the stretch of having another finger added to his tight hole. “Ours.”
Oberyn groans, his cock twitching in response and he hums. "Yessss, ours." He agrees. "Now you are going to spill into Cal's mouth. Give him a taste of what you are going to pump into his ass in just a few minutes."
Taking orders as a soldier and taking orders in bed are two different circumstances, but Raeden surprises himself with how little it bothers him to have those orders given. Instead, it only seems to spur him on tonight, and Cal too. Cal who has Raeden's cock so far down his throat that the man on his back is surprised he has not outright choked yet.
Ellaria hums as she looks up from between Margaery’s thighs. “He is close, lover.” She confides. “And sounds so sweet, but he tastes even sweeter on your tongue.”
Cal's own cock is beaded with precum as he swallows around Raeden's length, desperate to find out just how sweet that taste really is. Oberyn has three fingers buried deep, curling them expertly while he other hand kneads the flesh of Raeden's thighs and caresses his heavy balls, knowing that they - like his own and Cal's - will be emptied many times tonight. Raeden's breathing comes in ragged pants, moans becoming whines and keening curses the closer he gets to his first peak of the night. Climbing and climbing, his back lifts off the bed entirely when Oberyn and Cal's names tear from his lips for the first time and that first spurt of hot cum is followed by countless more.
Oberyn throbs, his own cock pulsing at the sight of Raeden cumming. Nearly about to burst himself from how erotic it is. Groaning as he continues to pump his fingers while the other man fills Cal’s mouth to where cum is sliding down his chin.
Cal's own moan is almost as loud as Raeden's, the other man scrambling to swallow as much as he possibly can while still losing a few strands of sticky cum to the column of his neck. For the first climax of the night, it is the perfect way to begin and has him nearly bursting in his own right.
Oberyn pulls his fingers out at Raeden and he hums with a grin on his face. “That is beautiful.”
"The first of many beautiful sights tonight." You had been watching too, always unable to tear your eyes away from the sight of Raeden's pleasure.
“Now one of our ladies needs to cum.” Oberyn says as he watches Ellaria dive back into Margarey’s cunt. “Will it be my star or my flower?” He asks curiously.
The so-called competition of the question is taken quite seriously by Ellaria and Leyth, it seems, and both women redouble their efforts on Margaery and your pleasure. As talented as Ellaria is, and as eager for this night as Margery has been, it is decidedly the newest member of the group's chance to come apart next – although you feel you might be directly at her heels with Leyth's clever tongue drawing you closer and closer to the edge.
Ellaria’s tongue curls around Margaery’s clit, sucking it into her mouth as a hand slides up to squeeze her breast. Her dark eyes fixed on her face and she’s humming to vibrate her bundle of nerves.
Margaery’s nails dig into Ellaria’s shoulder without apology, biting into the skin as her body tensed and her mouth falls open on a vocal scream. Her eyes nearly cross from the pressure and her cunt bears down on Ellaria’s king fingers tightly, drawing them in deeply before flooding them with slick release that runs all the way down and drips to Ellaria’s wrist.
Raeden moans, both from his own release and the loss of Oberyn's fingers while Cal pulls off his cock and watching his wife cum. He knows how talented that mouth is and he is sure that tonight, every one of you will collapse into a deep sleep for the few hours you get.
“How do you want us?” Cal asks Oberyn, knowing that however the prince wishes to have his newest lover, he will find a way to be under Raeden and take the force of them together with as much pride as pleasure.
His brow arches as he looks at Raeden. Contemplating the positions and how easy it will be for the other two men. “On your knees.” He decides, lifting to his own knees and wrapping his hand around his cock. “Hand me the oil.”
Call practically flattens himself to the bed immediately, hips rolled back to entice Raeden but also because he can’t help grinding his own cock into the mattress right now. Raeden takes the moment to sit up, lips crashing against Oberyn’s for a deep and intense tangling of tongues before he pulls away again to gasp for air and takes his position over Cal with his own ass in the air.
“Fuck.” Raeden groans when he hears the slick sounds of Oberyn piling up his cock and the bottle is pressed against his arm. “Ready yourself to plunge into Cal.” Oberyn strokes his ass possessively.
Four of you are watching from the chaise as Oberyn starts to slide inside Raeden, and Raeden in turn begins to break open Cal. The three men are as coordinated and careful as they can be in this moment but they aren’t the only ones moaning. It is a sight to behold and you are instantly panting with increased desire — chest heaving and threatening to have you moaning with every shallow breath.
“Ohhhhhhhhh.” Raeden’s eyes close, mouth open on a moan as the prince rocks into him steadily. Not forceful or impatient, it is just the right tempo to have him take the thickness of the man and desire more as his own cock sinks into the tight, welcoming hole of Cal’s body. The servant whimpers his name, making him twitch as he pushes back against him, eager to feel the lord’s cock firmly buried after so long without this kind of pleasure.
“If you feel half as good as you look, my loves, you must all be in ecstasy.” Even Leyth has paused to watch, kneeling between your legs, and she smiles up at you momentarily when you speak before curling her fingers determinedly inside you to hear the gasp it will pull from your chest. “You will cum so easily watching them, I expect,” she purrs. “I know you like to watch, princess. So keep your eyes on our men while I make you scream.”
“You know the Princess.” Margaery pulls Ellaria up for a kiss and to turn her over so she can touch and kiss while watching her husband as the filling to a delicious treat. “Her cunt gets so wet when she watches her lovers.”
"Can you blame me?" It is difficult to keep your eyes open as Leyth's remarkably clever tongue has your eyes nearly rolling back in your head as she works you closer and closer to the edge.
“Not at all.” She hums as she slides her fingers down and starts to rub Ellaria’s clit while her tongue shoots out to circle her breast.
Watching the three men together is vastly unlike watching them with anyone else. That tendency toward gentleness that Raeden has with partners who are not as physically strong as he is has vanished. He is not in control here but willingly giving all of that up to Oberyn. His groans rumble out from the depths of him as he submits completely to one man while still soothing his hands over Cal’s back whenever he needs to steady himself.
The choked cry catches in his throat when the next thrust comes rougher than the ones before. Signaling that the pace will pick up and there’s a sense of freedom to be had from the way Cal mewls under him.
"Gods." The moan from you on the chaise is more of a keen, and your fingers thread through Leyth's hair even as your hips grind down to meet her lips and tongue eagerly. "They will be the death of me but I will die a happy woman."
Oberyn’s eyes are fixed on where he is joined with Raeden until you whimper that statement. Chuckling as he looks over to where you are very eager splayed open for the lovely servant, he hums. “Not tonight, star.” He chides. “Perhaps we will let you expire when we have wrung every scream out of your throat.”
"Not a minute before," Margaery agrees, leaning over to flick her tongue across one of your nipples in a move that is surprisingly affectionate, before returning her full focus to Ellaria.
“Perfect.” The caress to Raeden’s hip is surprisingly gentle even as his hips snap forward. “You have chosen a perfect wife, Rae.”
"Is she n–not?" The last word is turned to a grunt with the forceful swing of Oberyn's hips, and Raeden's own slam into Cal with equal determination. The feeling of it is exquisite.
The chorus of moans pleases Oberyn, the feeling, the moment exactly what he had wished for. Tonight is about living, experiencing life to the fullest and what is better than a tight ass a round his cock while one of his soulmates has her cunt licked while the other is finger fucked? Surely the halls are filled with the sounds of pleasure coming from this room.
Leyth pitches you off the cliff of pleasure just moments later, humming into your dripping cunt as her fingers curl against that perfect spot inside you. The only thing stopping your thighs from squeezing Leyth's ears shut is her strategically-placed arm, holding you spread out for her so that you cannot do anything but quake and cry out as she skillfully shatters you into a million blissed out pieces.
Margaery and Ellaria watch. Her fingers curled deep into the paramours cunt, Margaery’s head twists around as she moans softly at the sight of your body shaking and heaving with pleasure.
“Fucking gorgeous.” Raeden’s head had been turned to you as well, and the way he groans when you cum is only half to do with Cal’s body bearing down on his cock so tightly. He nearly growls at the feeling, scratching his blunted nails down the other man’s spine. “Cal thinks so, too.”
“Yes.” The other man whines. “All of you, so -“ he moans when Raeden’s hips slap against his ass again, cock spurting a dribble of pre-cum onto the bed below him as he throbs. “So sexy. wanted to touch all of you.” He babbles. “W–wanted to.”
“Next time I hope you will not hesitate,” Ellaria purrs, watching the way his cock pulses with hungry fixation. “You need a cunt, Cal.” She declares with mischief in her voice. “Who do you want beneath you?”
“Anyone.” He moans, eyes rolling back into his head as he imagines filling one of the gorgeous ladies spread out and teasing him with the wet views of their cunts. He has never wanted to sink into a group more, even when he was having sex all the time. Even Leyth has admitted that the Prince’s lovers and friends are all people she would fuck willingly every day if asked. Neither one of them having an reservations about that now they have had months with just the two of them together and no demands on their bodies. “Please. I-I am close.”
“It should be you, lover,” your hand caresses Ellaria’s cheek only because you are not close enough to kiss her. “I know you have missed Cal’s cock.”
“You do not want to experience his cock?” She asks curiously. She had thought that you were becoming close to the servants and would want to be involved.
“Oh I do.” You can promise her that without hesitation. “But you have not cum yet. If you would rather cum for Margaery, I will gladly let these men weigh me into the mattress.”
“We will be in this position many more times.” She tells you breezily, tamping down her own fears. If Oberyn is lost tomorrow, she will not have you regret missing out on one experience with him. “Take your place under them and feel the power of all three.”
Leyth does not miss a beat, transferring her attention to Ellaria and Margaery after helping you off the chaise. The five steps you need to get to the bed are quick, and you slide across half the mattress to cup Cal’s jaw and bring his eyes to yours. “Hold still for just a moment and then you will have a slick cunt to cum in.”
His neck stretches slightly, eyes dark and lust blown. “Kiss me, Princess?” He chokes out.
That is a request you are glad to bend to, and you meet his lips with equal desire as you slide yourself under the clutch of slick bodies for which Cal is the anchor.
“Do not collapse on her.” Oberyn has no issue with you being under the group, but he will not have you take all their weight when his child is nestled inside your womb.
“Never.” They are all very aware of your condition and happy to have the new babe in the way. Making sure you and that babe are safe is the very top priority. Even so, Cal groans when you slip into place below him and wrap your hand around his cock to guide him into your velvet heat.
“Princess.” Breaking you open is an exquisite feeling. Looking down and seeing you beneath him as you take inch after inch of his cock. His own body being pushed forward by the much slower thrusts of the men behind him. “So— you are so tight.” He groans.
“She is ma—magnificent.” Raeden groans, so close to his own end that he can barely think. Every sense has been taken over by Oberyn and Cal.
“Yes she is.” Oberyn agrees, smirking slightly when he feels the way that Raeden is pushing back desperately. “I think my lord Sunstone wishes to spill his load again.” He teases, his fingers gripping the man’s hips fierce and he snaps his hips forward.
“Not everyone has your stamina, lover.” Ellaria is close now, too, with Leyth and Margaery both dedicated to pleasing her, and she throws her head back on the chaise when Margaery grazes her teeth along her swollen clit. “Cal will burst any moment,” she predicts with a moan.
“Fuck.” Raeden grits his teeth and feels his own body respond to the words and the way that Cal’s body is gripping him like a vice.
“Cum for us, love.” From where you are, you can look him in the eye with no effort in between Cal’s passionate kisses. “Cum in Cal and make him fill me, too.”
Your words make the world explode for Raeden. Gasping out a choked combination of Cal and Oberyn’s names, he gives into the pleasure that has been denied to him for years. The cock in his ass striking against pure Heaven, his own throbs and starts to fill the man below him with hot ropes of his seed.
Cal’s hips stutter mere moments later, slamming into yours with as much force as he can muster and painting your cunt with his own sticky cum. Both men are panting, glassy eyed with lust and still hard thanks to the powder that Cal has supplied.
“Cum, my prince.” Raeden begs desperately, enjoying the way Oberyn still rocks into him roughly. “I need to feel it.”
Oberyn’s answering grunt comes with a gleam in his eyes, and he knows you are all watching him with held breath. You all need to witness this as much as Raeden needs to feel it, knowing what it means to him. His jaw is clenched, giving him away, and you practically moan when you notice it. “He is close,” you promise your own paramour. “Squeeze his cock even once more and he will not be able to hold out.”
Oberyn hisses when Raeden immediately follows your suggestion and bears down on his cock. “Vixen.” He chokes out, snapping his hips forward one last time and grinding deep, closing his eyes as the orgasm consumes his attention.
There is no heat in the chastisement, just in Oberyn’s eyes, and you marvel at the way his beautiful body tenses completely and he groans Raeden’s name a the most holy prayer. They have both waited so long for this that it makes being a part of it all the more meaningful. Raeden shouts at the first feeling of Oberyn filling him — calls out to the gods in their heavens and then growls Oberyn’s name so fiercely that anyone would think that he was coming apart all over again. His fingers dig into Cal’s hips as Oberyn rides out his pleasure and Raeden unconsciously holds his breath. The moment seems to invigorate and nearly collapse him simultaneously but Cal is already angling the men to one side on the bed. When they did slump over and need five minutes of rest, they will fall beside you, not on you.
“This is the beginning of a glorious night.” Margarey hums, moving off the chaise so she can pet and kiss both you and her husband. Another affectionate peck for Cal and then last but not least, Oberyn. Showering everyone with attention as thanks for such a wonderful scene.
The pile of bodies on the bed grows one more time as Ellaria and Leyth move to join you, and the easy touches between all of you grow to more kisses before too long. There will be no rest tonight until everyone is entirely satiated — and that will not happen quickly.
“We must clean up before we touch you.” Oberyn murmurs against your lips. You had crawled out from under Cal and was dividing kisses between Raeden and Oberyn as they had stated to kiss fiercely.
“Am I so very pure?” To his mind you are, and you know that. Revel in it, even. He treats you like the most precious creature in the world now that you are carrying his child.
Oberyn snorts, nibbling on your pulse even as his still hard cock twitches inside Raeden. He has not pulled out of his body yet, could perhaps stay buried if he did not want to touch as man as he could tonight. “Very.” He teases. “The woman who begged me to marry her could not even fathom the woman carrying my child.”
“I think I would not even recognize that woman if I laid eyes on her again.” You could beg for more kisses, but that is about it.
“She is much more confidant about taking what she wants.” Ellaria coos, pulling away from Leyth and Cal for a moment. Her hand is already around the other man’s cock and pumping it as he moans against his partner’s breast.
“I learned that it is not a sin to take what is freely given.” And that, for you, has been so immensely freeing.
“Everyone here gives freely or they are not in this bed.” Margaery had been immensely comforted by the fact that both Leyth and Cal wished to be here.
“That is true.” Raeden purrs at his wife, plunging himself across several bodies to demand a kiss and pluck at her breast. “And you have taken to it very well, wife.”
Her moan is loud and symbolic of the night itself. Everyone pleasured and enjoying themselves.
“I believe it is your turn to be fucked by a prince, Lady Sunstone.” She is now the only one who has not had Oberyn’s cock and one who very much wants it, and you grin before leaning over to nip at the sensitive skin of her neck. “She is like me, husband,” you warn Oberyn, knowing it will actually delight him. “Slap her ass, pull her hair, and fuck her hard. You will be rewarded with the scratch of her nails and wailing moans of your name.”
Oberyn smirks as he rolls over, moving quickly to the water basin to wash and to get a cloth for Raeden and Cal. “We will see, Princess. I will paint her ass with my seed and see if it makes her any lovelier than she already is.”
“She is most beautiful when she is exhausted from cumming,” you attest, winking at Margaery before you lay back in the pillows and trace your fingers up and down the length of your slit. Cal’s cum mixed with your own and the feeling is wonderfully decadent. “That leaves us, my love,” you hum at Raeden as he quickly cleans himself. “Unless you plan to share Margaery with Oberyn? Then I will gladly finger fuck my own pussy at the sight.”
“Very fitting.” Raeden watches shamelessly, looking back and forth between you touching yourself and Oberyn cleaning his hard cock before he comes back to the bed. He aches, pleasantly so in a way that has been sorely missed, and he can feel the prince’s cum start to drip out of him. “He fucks my wife while I fuck his.”
“Then come here.” Reaching for him immediately, the smile on your face turns from amused to beaming and you tug him toward the bed again by his fingertips. “Take me however you want me. I promise my screams will reach the gods.”
“The night will be one that the gods are envious of.” Oberyn predicts with a smirk. “Old and new.”
******
The morning light wakes you first, as the pile of bodies on the bed in your chambers has wrapped itself up in a comfortable ball with seemingly only you facing the window. Or, at least, Oberyn has his face buried in your back with Raeden curled around him. Leyth is facing you in the center of the bed, with Margaery in Cal's arms on her other side, and Ellaria has one arm stretched out across all of their bodies as though she was reaching for you in her sleep. The night had left all of you as exhausted as you were satisfied and you had all fallen into dreams with your last partners and no hesitations whatsoever with your intimacy.
This morning, however, you would banish the brightness of the sun if it was in your power. Blot out its power and let night last forever. This morning, Oberyn will stand up and fight for his sister's honorable memory and Lord Tyrion's innocence. He will fight for his life. And the worry that that churns in you has you turning over in his arms to watch just a few more minutes of his peaceful sleep.
He wakes the moment you move, although he doesn’t give that away. Keeping still as you sigh heavily and his body stays relaxed as you shift and turn to face him. He can sense the sun, the light brighter than the flame of waxy candles that he had finally passed out to. Sometime, perhaps an hour before dawn. Even though he should be exhausted still, he’s invigorated, feeling as if he could fight a hundred Gregor Cleganes.
“The morning has come, my love.” As bare as a whisper, your fingertips do not even graze his skin but ghost over it as you watch Oberyn’s relaxed face. “Your morning. Your time in the light of the gods to bring Elia’s murderer to justice. The poets will sing about this morning with reverence.” Your voice shakes a little, tears threatening to burst through, but you swallow them with determination. “I promised you that I would be strong today, my love, and I will. You said for our people, but it is for you.” The tears you promised not to shed are close to the surface and you swallow again, thickly. “To fall in love with you was unthinkable, husband. It was never an option in my mind. But you—gods help me, you smiled at me and looked into my eyes and I knew somehow that my heart had room enough for two.” Your fingertips graze his beard gently and you almost choke, holding the sob in so you will not disturb anyone else in bed. “I believe you could conquer all Seven Kingdoms if you set your mind to it, my love. But—if you do not—if this morning goes awry—” Voice dropping impossibly lower, your open eyes are set firmly on his closed ones. On the set of his eyelashes and the tone of his skin in the rising sun. “Then the Mountain’s blood shall run from my dagger instead. I swear it on my own life.”
It is humbling to hear that vow set down from your sweet lips. Vengeance is not in your nature, revenge not steeped in your blood. That you would love him so fiercely to make that promise is like a soothing balm to the raw edges of the morning. He would never wish you to have to do that. He wants you to live your life peacefully, exactly how you wished. Neither does he want you to mourn him. Your first child, growing them, nurturing them in your body, should not be spent wallowing in misery.
“I love you, husband.” If he were awake you would seal the promise with a kiss, but as it is you study his features in repose. Memorizing his face one more time. “My soulmate.”
“I love you, wife.” His voice is scratchy, husky with sleep and he keeps it low to not disturb the others. Wanting this moment with you before any intrusions. He will have another moment like this with Ellaria as well, needing it. Just in case. “My soulmate.”
Under any other circumstance you might be upset with yourself for having woken him. But there is too much at stake today to lie to yourself that you are not glad to hear his voice. Instead you reach up again and let your hands rest on the line of his jaw. “Good morning, beloved.”
“No lovelier sight to greet the day.” Oberyn smiles as he looks over your still sleep softened features. “How are you feeling this morning?”
“A most pleasant ache,” you admit with a sly grin. There is not one single member of this unusual family that will not be sore today. “Did you sleep well?”
“For the few hours that I have slept, I feel as though I could move mountains.” He hums, smirking at his pun.
“My husband feels very clever this morning.” The pun practically has you rolling your eyes but you lean forward to kiss his lips instead.
“I always feel clever, but for you I will admit that I am going to be happy when this is over.” He accept the kiss and gives you another.
“As will we all.” As confident as you all may be in Oberyn’s abilities, he will not be the only person in that ring today. He is not the only factor at hand. And that alone is terrifying.
“We will be back in this room, making ready to leave this city in just a few hours.” Oberyn reminds you. “Every noble of Dorne who has come will be there as well.”
“It cannot come soon enough.” Pressing one more kiss to his lips, you summon a smile and remind yourself that sewing doubt in him helps no one. You are his wife. His soulmate. His support. And you can clutch Ellaria’s hand in mutual fear when the time comes.
“Would you like to join Ellaria and I in the bath?” He had thought to spend that time with his other soulmate, but he knows you might want to stay close while you can. “She will be helping me dress.”
“She deserves time with you this morning.” Ellaria has known him much longer and loved him much more ferociously, and it would be cruel of you to intrude on her moment with Oberyn. “I will wash and dress with Raeden and Margaery, and we will all present as a unified party to the capital.”
He touches the necklace that the three of you had worn. Raeden’s necklace was equally beautiful and It had made him incredibly possessive when he had seen all of you wearing it. It only made the night even sweeter when you had disappeared together and then reappeared wearing them. “Dorne is stronger with the three of you beside us.” He tells you honestly. For so long, it has been him and Ellaria. Lovers have come and gone but the two of them are no longer just the two of them. He has subtly started thinking of your group as his, just as he is yours.
“Dorne will be stronger when we all return home together.” Having made your promise when he was sleeping, you will not allow yourself to entertain any other possibility aloud this morning. It will do no good, especially not for him.
“Of course it will.” Oberyn smirks, “we will set Dorne on it ear and it will be better for it.”
“The only thing I have ever done that would shock Dorne is make a husband of its prince.” Still though, you smile. Knowing how unbelievable that news will be to many of the people. “And I am honored that you love me as I love you.”
“I do love you.” Oberyn whispers seriously. “Until the end of time and my bones turn to dust.”
“May that be an extraordinarily long time from now,” you murmur, fingers delicately tracing the lines of his face.
“It will be.” The vow is make as he traces your own face gently and the others begin to stir. “When I am too old to sire a child.”
“That will never happen,” Raeden chuckles, his voice hoarse and cracked as he stretches at Oberyn’s back. “You will be making new babies the same age as your great-grandchildren.”
“Especially if I get more of whatever Cal fed us last night.” Oberyn jokes as the man’s eyes open. “My legacy will overrun the Seven Kingdoms.”
“There are three women in this bed who would be glad to bear you more children.” It would be four if Leyth could have children, but there is no use harping on the impossible. “And you, too, Lord Sunstone.”
“It is my hope that one of you is already carrying my child.” He can’t help but look smug at the prospect as he leans in and kisses Oberyn’s shoulder. “So our children can run the gardens together and grow up as close as siblings.”
“That is a wonderful dream,” Margaery murmurs sleepily, already smiling. “When we reach home I will see a Maester right away.”
"It is time." Oberyn grunts softly, hating to pull away from the warm bodies in the bed, but he needs to prepare for his trial by combat battle with the man who had murdered his sister.
******
When the party from Dorne arrives in the stadium with matching emblems, Dornish dress in House Martell's colors, and looks of fierce pride on all of your faces, it is the sound of bells that welcomes and warns you all at once. The leather trim on all of your cloaks and gowns matches Oberyn's armour. The oils rubbed into your skin even smell of Dornish herbs. You, Ellaria, and Margaery are all even wearing your hair in traditionally Dornish styles. There is no question whom you represent, and Oberyn walks proudly out in front with you on one arm and Ellaria on the other as Raeden and Margaery follow close behind. Today is about honor, and no matter what happens, you will all hold your heads high.
Oberyn smirks as Tywin, Cersei and their dower looking entourage arrive. The head of the Lannisters looks as if he’s sucked down a cup of sour wine. Or had walked in on his children fucking. “Look at him.” Oberyn hums as he strides to the tent that has been erected with his weapons already in place on a table. “He looks like he had taken a disappointing cock in his ass.”
You and Ellaria snicker softly at the image Oberyn paints, and walk with him directly to the table. There are chairs in place but you all know that you will be too nervous to sit, making you all the more grateful for the pitcher of wine that has been placed out. This is Cal and Leyth's doing, for there is a small pitcher of fruit juice beside it for you, and you step forward to pour Oberyn a goblet of wine knowing that Cal will have made sure it is Dornish.
“Make sure not to touch the spear, my love.” Oberyn cautions. “It has fangs.” The poison has been applied, although there is another powder he will rub on it before the fight begins.
There is some cheering from spectating peasants who have no idea the enormity of the importance this morning bears for Oberyn. but the ripple of a gasp rips through the crowd when the legendary warrior prince drinks his wine in one gulp and turns to Ellaria to bestow a passionate kiss before giving the same to you.
“I think they might hate you more than me.” Margaery hums as she looks towards the seats where her former family sits. Her father’s face is mottled red and he might snap the arms of the chair he is gripping it so tightly. Tywin’s glare matches Cersei’s and she’s felt the weight of their anger.
"My husband's sense of humor is rubbing off on me," you mumble just loud enough for all of your party to hear. "I could suggest that the prince and Lady Sunstone share a kiss as well."
“That might make my father keel over.” She giggles quietly and hums pleasantly at the thought. “Although I will kiss him as soon as you and Ellaria does after his victory.”
“I should like to see his reaction to that,” Raeden chuckles and leans down to kiss his bride, drawing an even more animated reaction from the crowd.
"It would be one that all of the Seven Kingdoms should see." Oberyn chuckles himself, his eyes sliding towards the Lannisters and he smirks.
The bells cease their tolling only moments before Tyrion Lannister appears with guards flanking him on either side. "Looks like very light armour," he observes when he is hurried under the same tent as the Dornish party to stand beside his champion. Clearly, Tyrion is concerned.
Oberyn breaks away from his kiss with Ellaria, annoyed by the criticism. "I like to move around."
The youngest Lannister is obviously unamused with his answer because he continues to grumble at him. "You could at least wear a helmet." Oberyn picks up the goblet that you have refilled and starts to drink. "You shouldn't drink before a fight." Tyrion huffs.
Motioning towards the man in chains, Obery quips, "You learn this during your years in the fighting pits?" He looks down at the cup. "I always drink before a fight."
"It could get you killed." Tyrion reminds him flatly, looking around at the party surrounding him. At the support he has. It would be useless to admit that he envies the man for being so adored, and instead he grumbles again. "It could get me killed."
Oberyn sets down his cup and looks at the little man with certainty. "Today is not the day I die." He assures him, aware that the poison will guarantee his victory against the Mountain. Ellaria hums happily, sliding her hand over his leathers and looking towards you with a smirk. She knows both of you find his confidence sexy and right now, all of you need to believe that statement.
"Have faith in your Champion, Lord Tyrion," you remind him, as the crowd begins to roar again. It is louder this time, more excited than merely intrigued, and you turn to watch Gregor Clegane himself - the Mountain - walking into the arena. So that is why they call him a Mountain, you think to yourself with instant terror. And you know Ellaria is just as scared when she grips your hand tightly. "You're going to fight that?" She asks Oberyn with wide eyes.
Oberyn swaggers over to the edge of the table and leans against it, looking over at where the Mountain has made his appearance. "I'm going to kill that." Ellaria's eyes are fixed on him. "He's the biggest man I've ever seen." Her grip tightens, nearly crushing your fingers as her own worry spills over the edge of her calm facade. Oberyn will do as he pleases, he has for years and she has never truly worried, but that? That is a foe that he might not be able to beat.
Bending over the wash basin, Oberyn cleans his hands of the wine. "Size does not matter when you are flat on your back."
"Thank the gods." You and Tyrion manage to murmur at the same time.
A horn sounds its simple fanfare, calling the combatants and the audience to order. Grand Maester Pycelle has appeared on the edge of the ring and though he is surely doing his best to be heard throughout the stadium, his aged voice is not powerful. "In the sight of gods and men, we gather to ascertain the guilt or innocence of this..." he stumbles, not quite knowing what descriptor to use until he settles on the usual one. "Man...Tyrion Lannister. May the Mother grant them mercy. May the Father give them such justice as they deserve. May the Warrior guide the hand of our champion–" He is cut off when Tywin grows impatient and motions for the horn to blow again, ultimately bowing lamely and shuffling off to the stands once more.
Oberyn turns, pulling Ellaria into his arms and kissing her passionately, before she steps back and you take her place. Every feeling, every touch and mark on your body that belongs to him is poured into the much too short kiss. His heart starting to pound in anticipation.
Ellaria has one of Oberyn's hands in hers and you have the other as the sound of Gregor Clegane's immense sword leaving its sheath can be heard across the ring. "Don't leave us alone in this world." She entreats Oberyn with a note of desperation that is so unlike her but so like this situation. Realistically, would either of you be truly alone? Of course not. You would have each other, if nothing else. But formally? Legally? You could be denied everything without him there to provide for you – and that is what terrifies her. That everyone in this tent is under his protection and his alone until the time you set foot on Dornish sand.
"Never." He can promise her that. Without hesitation or contemplation. He would never leave any of you alone if he could help it.
As soon as Ellaria lets go of his hand, you pull Oberyn into your arms and place the hand of his that you had been holding on the curve of your stomach. The nature of the gesture is unmistakable, and as the announcement of your pregnancy had not yet been made, a gasp ripples through the crowd. But that is precisely what you were hoping for. While the people of King's Landing are murmuring in shock, they do not notice you slipping the sheath of an extra dagger under the folds of your husband's leather armour. "For Elia," you whisper to him, giving the sheathed dagger a quick tug to make sure that it is secure before you kiss him once more. "And for your family. Be swift, my love."
There is a quick wink towards Raeden and the squire that has been a part of Oberyn's travels and will attend him during the fight, tosses him the spear. The lightweight, yet sturdy wood feels perfectly balanced in his hands and he wastes no time twirling it around in his hand. Showing off is part of his very nature and part of his strategy. He wants the crowd to cheer for him. It's obvious they do when he spins around for the final time and grins up at the covered tents where Twyin and his whore daughter try to look unimpressed.
From where you stand under your tent at the edge of the ring, you and Ellaria are already on edge as you watch Oberyn showboat and the look of disinterested murderousness in the Mountain's eyes deepens. The crowd cheering pushes your heart up into your throat because you know that it bolsters him – he feeds off the energy of those around him in almost every circumstance. This one is no different.
Turning to face the man who had murdered his beloved sister, the grin on his face is satisfied, eager to address the man who would confess his crimes to the crowd. "Have they told you who I am?" He demands, wanting to know if he remembers his sister, or if the years and his numerous crimes for the Lannisters have dimmed his memory. The Mountain seems unimpressed. "Some dead man." He tells him right before he lunges with a swing of his broadsword.
The first few strikes sound terribly, the clash of metal and strong wood echoing through the space like taunts. Every strike seems to pierce your heart rather than deter Oberyn's confidence, and if that is how it must be then you will gladly absorb every blow.
"I am the brother of Elia Martell." He announces, keeping his voice loud but not shouting into the stands because he's addressing the man in front of him. "Do you know why I have come all the way to this stinking, shit-pile of a city?" He asks, squaring his body in front of the giant of a man. "For you." Instantly, he crouches and attacks, swinging his spear and nearly catching Clegane under his heavy helmet.
Oberyn swings his staff elegantly. Of course the weapon was molded for him but he has also molded himself to the weapon – and Clegane's lumbering and grunts only serve to make him look inelegant compared to the smaller, much nimbler form of the Red Viper. Even though you gasp when the Mountain lunges, you cannot tear your eyes away. Oberyn slides backward, deftly avoiding the attack as he continues to taunt his foe.
"I'm going to hear you confess before you die." This time Oberyn isn't facing the beast in front of him, instead his words go up into the crowd with a ripping of confusion from the spectators. Tywin's jaw is so tight that it could shatter if he clenches his teeth together. Turning back to Gregor Clegane, he makes his accusations. "You raped my sister. You murdered her. You killed her children." There is hatred in his eyes and swings his spear up. "Say it now and we can make this quick."
Your hand tightens around Ellaria's as you watch the growling Mountain lunge at Oberyn and the clanging of their weapons rings through the stadium. Feeling their presence at your back, you cannot tear your eyes away from the ring to look to them, but you know Raeden and Margaery are just behind you. Oberyn was right - of course he was - it is his speed and his dexterity that keeps him ahead of Clegane.
When he hits the Mountain across his back with the spear, he knocks the man's helmet off. Revealing his disgusting face to the crowd. "Say it. You raped her." Oberyn spits out, deflecting another attack from the other warrior. "You murdered her." He can still sling his accusations as he spins around, although the Mountain is just shouting as he lunges for Oberyn again. Again, his spear is used to push the sword's momentum down to the ground and he looks into the eyes of his sister's killer. "You killed her children."
The accusation is repeated with every swing, every lunge, and every blow. Oberyn is a blur in the ring as the lumbering Mountain tries to keep up, but the Red Viper of Dorne is too quick for his reflexes and heavier armor. Once he manages to knock Oberyn toward the ground but the prince only springs up to his feet again seconds later – the sharp intake of breath under your tent is loud enough for other to hear but still none of you can take your eyes off of the fight.
His rage manifests as amusement, a smile on his face, although it doesn't reach his eyes. The fight has gone beyond playful and taunting. The years of fury have built up and the Mountain knocks the spear out of his hand, knocking him to the ground.
The crowd may cheer as Oberyn flips out of the way, his training making him lithe and athletic while you and Ellaria swallow shaky gasps and clutch each other's hands impossibly harder. Tyrion may hyperventilate at any moment, watching his champion be so performative, but he says nothing. He knows that you and everyone else under this tent are terrified for the life of the Prince of Dorne, not for the life of the Imp of Casterly Rock.
The next spear is tossed to Oberyn and his attacks turn more vicious. Even as he's sent down to his knees, he is bouncing back. This time after a flurry of attacks and deflecting, the giant grabs Oberyn and tosses him across the combat area.
By this time you count three wounds that the poisoned blade has made in the Mountain's flesh, but you know nothing of poisons. How long will it take to begin killing him? How will it kill him? Will it weaken him immensely, or simply slow him down? Was there even enough poison to do Oberyn any good in the moment? You flinch when he is thrown to the ground but Ellaria holds to your fast, urging you not to look away. The two of you have promised to survive this fight side by side and that is not a promise either of you can break.
Stomping away from the Mountain as he tries to regain his footing, Oberyn's fervor spirals. "You raped her!" He shouts, "You murdered her!" He watches as the other man attacks again, spinning around and this time, he digs the hook of the spear into the back of the Mountain's heel. Ripping open flesh and making him scream in agony. Panting as Clegane drops to his knees. Gripping his spear, he screams again. "You killed her children!" Running forward, Oberyn leaps up and drives the spear into the Mountain's chest, making blood spurt from his chest.
There is a moment where people almost smile. Tyrion and Jamie Lannister both look like they are about to, mostly out of shock, and Ellaria almost laughs in relief. You and Margaery make identical sobbing sounds that are halfway like laughs, and even Raeden blows out a long breath. Clegane is flat on his back, and you could swear that you see him twitch while Oberyn circles him with growling anger.
To add insult to injury, Oberyn leaves the spear in the man's chest. "Wait. Are you dying?" He asks. "No. No. No." He growls as he paces. "You can't die yet. You haven't confessed." He reaches over and yanks the spear out of his chest, assured that poison has worked through the man's body. He will die in agony and yet it will still not be good enough. "Say it." He resumes marching around him as he groans on the ground. "Say her name. Elia Martell." As his blood boils, his mind spins in a murderous rage. "You raped her. You killed her children." The spectators are quiet as his voice rings out of the seats. "Elia Martell." He points at Tywin Lanniser sitting on his cushioned chair. "Who gave you the order?" He looks back at the Mountain and then back at Tywin. "Who gave you the order?! Say her name! You raped her! You murdered her!" Around and around, Oberyn circles the fallen man, his voice climbing higher ever time he speaks. "You killed her children." Nothing matters but this. Nothing. Not Tyrion. He had never really cared about the little man's guilt or innocence. He cares about his revenge.
Oberyn circles the giant, roaring his accusations and demanding that Clegane confess. Once - just once - he manages to look up to the tent where all of you are watching, and the unmistakable pride in Ellaria's expression and the firm determination in yours makes him smile with grim satisfaction. But he inches just a hair too close to the dying man in the middle of the ring. Clegane's hand comes out and snatches at Oberyn's ankle, sending the legendary Viper to ground once more. Tyrion panics, eyes widening; and you and Ellaria gasp out loud. The Mountain is moving and Oberyn is on his back.
Please, Gods...please do not take him like this...
There is a split second where the future flashes in front of his eyes. One that he would not be present for. His lover becoming jaded and bitter, obsessing over revenge for his death and oddly enough, he does not want that. His Sand Snakes being killed by the bastard Lions in a vain attempt to find justice for their father before they are ready. Raeden being run through in a battle to get you and his heir out of the city. It's not above Tywin Lanniser and he knows that the man had seen the way you had brought his hand to your stomach. Then you, his lovely wife. Carrying his child. The horrible idea of you suffering the same fate as his sister. Perhaps even at the hands of the same man.
His hands flail for a moment as the weight of the man presses him down into the stone. "Elia Martell." He growls, hands reaching for Oberyn's head and the Prince's eyes squeeze shut as the gloved thumbs cover them and start to press. Oberyn screams, the sound pure agony as he touches the dagger you had tucked into his waist and he knows that confession would be the best he would ever get. Not before the man seriously damages his eyes or kills him. His pride, his arrogance had landed him on his back, the poison not killing him fast enough. "E-Elia." He gasps out, wrapping his fingers around the hilt and pulling it out, shoving it up through the bottom of the Mountain's chin and into his head as hard as he can. "Elia Martell." Oberyn chokes out. "Of Dorne." Gregor Clegane's eyes widen and he gurgles, blood spewing out of his mouth onto the prince's face. "This is for her."
The collection gasp of shock from the assembled audience cannot compete with the way you and Ellaria scream. The fierce shrieks coming deep inside both of you when all you can see of Oberyn is that the man you both love - your soulmate - is flat on his back beneath the Mountain's murderous bulk. Raeden has to push Margaery backward into Cal's grip so he can wrap one arm around you and Ellaria, barely managing to stop you from storming the ring yourselves to finish the Mountain with your bare hands. He knows you would manage it somehow. That together there could be nothing from stopping you and Ellaria if you got your hands on Gregor Clegane.
You struggle against Raeden in tandem, screaming Oberyn's name, until you see a flash of metal against the late morning sun and another flood of blood. It is impossible to tell whose blood it is at first, until a look of relief washes briefly over Jamie Lannister's face.
"Oberyn!" Prying Raeden's hand open, you sprint for the center of the ring as the Mountain's lifeless body is shoved aside to reveal a triumphant Prince of Dorne has, indeed, survived.
He has survived.
Avenged his sister.
Won the day.
And you pull him into your arms just a moment before Ellaria reaches his other side so that both of you can help him to his feet.
"The gods have made their will known." Tywin Lannister's voice shakes with anger and disbelief, but the results are indisputable. "Tyrion Lannister, in the name of King Tommen of the House Baratheon, First of His Name...you have been found innocent of the murder of King Joffrey." He sounds as if he could throw something, but you barely hear the declaration. Oberyn is standing on his own two feet with his arms around you and Ellaria, and that is all that matters.
Panting and breathless, Oberyn absorbs the roar of the crowd, but is doesn't mean anything to him. Neither does the effusive gratitude of a near sobbing Tyrion as the guards unlock his chains, setting him free. All that matters is that he is still breathing and you and Ellaria are in his arms. He surges forward, pressing his lips to Ellaria's and then yours in front of the crowd as Raeden and Margaery stand to the side. His need for justice has been quenched. While the Mountain did not implicate Tywin, he can live with the fact that her murderer has breathed his last breath and all of King's Landing now knows.
"Let us leave this fucking place." He decides breathlessly, grinning at you and jostling Ellaria closer to him. "Never to return. Dorne calls us home."
______
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atlabeth · 2 years
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(not so) simple p1 - anthony bridgerton
pt2 pt3 pt4
summary: coercing lord bridgerton into pretending to court you to avoid the affections of a baron is very simple — that is, until it isn't.
a/n: she's finally here!! the long ass anthony fic that i've been talking about for like three months lmao. as much as i wanted to release this all as one fic it became way too long and oh my god i just wanted to post something for it after writing for months. but here u go the first part of a few i hope you enjoy
wc: 10k
warning(s): reader is a little insensitive, mentions of issues getting pregnant, unwanted advances/gross men, historical inaccuracies
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“No.”
“Darling—”
“No!” you protested once more, turning away from the mirror to face her. “Mother, you cannot be serious—”
“My dear, can you at least try to see things my way?” Your mother took a step back from you to admire the fit of your dress before she looked back at you. “Lord Cardew is an excellent match; he has a beautiful estate, incredibly vast wealth — for goodness sake, he is a baron! And he is interested in you.”
“He is a complete lecher,” you snapped. “I’d sooner die than accept even the slightest nicety from him.”
This kind of conversation had been going on between you and your mother ever since your debut the past week — you were no diamond, but you were no disaster either; you were as you’d always been, perfectly content with being perfectly average. But despite your lackluster introduction, you’d somehow managed to earn the attention of Baron Jonathan Cardew. An illustrious man with more wealth than you had ever experienced, your mother nearly fainted when he approached you after your debut and requested a dance. 
It would have been a blessing of the highest order had he been fifteen years younger, capable of basic decency, and you wanted to be married in the first place. 
Unfortunately, none of those were true, and after spending a waltz with him where you were more occupied with denying his advances than truly dancing, you became aware of the reason he flaunted his money so often — it was the only way to cover up how awful he was. But your mother was more taken with him than you were, insisting you follow through on his interest. Therefore, you were stuck in quite the unfavorable situation. 
“That kind of mouth is why you can never keep a suitor,” she berated, turning you around to continue fussing with your hair. “Oh, I know it is disappointing to be unable to marry for love, but this is what you are meant for. You are the crown jewel of our family, my dear — do not throw it away on one of your many whims!”
“This is not a whim, mother!” You pulled away from her once again and stalked across the room in frustration, your arms crossed against your chest as you gazed out the window. “You have known for years that I have never wanted to marry.”
“And you have known for years that it is your duty!” she exclaimed. “Would you so readily allow our name to fall into ruin over something so simple?”
“Marriage is not at all simple!” you retorted, wholly exasperated. “I do not think I am at all unreasonable to reject a union with someone I despise.”
“You are unreasonable,” she insisted. “Your father and I have tried our best to raise you into the finest woman we could. My dear, you are beautiful, kind, creative; you are wonderful in so many ways, and perfectly eligible — if it wasn’t for your ridiculous notions, you would have suitors lining up outside our door!”
“It is not my fault that I am the only one here for you to marry off!” you shouted, aware that you were touching a nerve but too enraged to care. “I do not exist simply for you to dress me up and pass off to a man before society deems me unacceptable. You know who I am, and you should know that you cannot change me. If you wanted a daughter to give you heirs without complaint, you should’ve tried harder to secure your lineage than thrusting the responsibility onto me.”
You saw your mother’s jaw clench, and you felt the slightest pang of guilt. “Do not take that tone with me, young lady. We have tried more times than you know, and your father and I have worked harder than you could ever imagine building this life. The very least you can do is help us keep it.”
“You would rather I be miserable with a horrible man as long as your fortune and good name are ensured,” you accused, and you raised your skirt up as you crossed over to the door. You opened it with one hand and turned to her as you stood in the doorframe. “I will be back in time for Lady Danbury’s ball tonight, and I will participate in the social season to keep up appearances. But I will not seek out suitors, and I will not become any man’s wife — least of all Lord Cardew.”
Before your mother could protest any further, you shut the door behind you. You hurried through the halls of your estate as quickly as you could, armed with the intent of airing your grievances to the only other person in all of England who understood you. 
-
“Lord Cardew?” Eloise scoffed as she set down her book. “I will never understand the men of the ton, going after women that could be their daughters.”
“You as much as I,” you sighed as you settled onto the couch next to her. “I just wish my mother wasn’t so intent on forcing us together. She is so blinded by title that she cannot see how awful he is— how awful we would be together.”
“Daphne had to deal with the same thing during her debut, a man of the same awful sort named Lord Berbrooke.” Eloise grimaced but then looked at you innocently. “She dealt with him with some well-deserved violence. I suggest you try her methods.” 
“Eloise!” you gasped with mock horror at the suggestion. “You cannot say those things to me. You know I will go through with it if given the chance.” 
“As you very well should!” she responded with a laugh. “Have you thought about running away?” You had to stifle your laughter at the question and she rolled her eyes. “It is a serious question! The way you tell it, you would all but be disowned if you go against your mother’s wishes. Disappearing might just be a better plan.”
“I must admit that I have,” you responded, “but I could never follow through with it. As much as she frustrates me at times, I do love my mother. She truly wants what is best for me, it is just that she has no idea what that is.”
“Sometimes I wish I could just escape to the country,” Eloise said, looking at you with a smile. “I would take you with me, and we would not have to deal with society’s demands; no men, no marriages, and everything we’ve ever wanted that has been locked away from us by virtue.”
“That sounds lovely,” you mused, laying your head against the cushions. “Able to simply walk about instead of promenading with a suitor, able to hitch our skirts and run as far and long as we can, able to read every book we can get our hands on, to be more than just another lady — it all sounds so perfect.” You glanced at her out of the corner of your eye. “But I thought you wanted to go to university.”
“Oh, you know I do,” she sighed. “If my half-brained brother can attend Oxford then I believe I am fully capable of doing the same. But a miracle would have to occur for them to suddenly allow my enrollment.”
“If there is anyone in England who deserves the privilege, it is you.”
Eloise beamed at you and you offered a smile of your own, though the moment was interrupted by the door being pushed open along with a demanding voice you had grown accustomed to over the years.
“Eloise, have you seen my quill?”
You looked up at the appearance and bit back a smile at the sight of the viscount — you were familiar with Anthony, having been friends with Eloise for so long, but he never seemed to appreciate your presence. His annoyance simply made it all the more fun to tease him. 
“No, Anthony,” Eloise answered, “but have you tried your own desk? It seems far more likely to be there than in the drawing room the day I have a visitor. You are not as sly as you think, brother.”
It was then he seemed to notice you, whether by design or truth. “If it isn’t Miss Worthing,” Anthony said as he breezed across the room, offering nothing more than a passing glance at you. “I must ask, are you ever seen on your own estate, or have you decided to permanently establish yourself here?” 
“It is quite funny that you ask, Anthony,” you started with a smile. “I have started moving more and more of my possessions here with every visit to Eloise — I believe it will only be a month more until I am fully settled at the Bridgerton estate.” 
He hummed, wholly unamused as he rustled through the contents of the drawer across from the two of you. “I think it best for you to remain on your own grounds, lest you never leave again. I also think it best you refer to me as Lord Bridgerton — we are hardly close enough to warrant anything less.” 
“Brother,” Eloise sighed, rolling her eyes in apology as she glanced at you, “must you insult my closest friend? There is no need for formalities in our own time.” 
“It is not an insult, Eloise,” Anthony insisted. “Your closest friend has just debuted — it would do her some good to learn proper manners before the season gets too far along.” 
“Well, Lord Bridgerton,” you made sure to enunciate his title, which only served to earn you another unamused look, “I very much appreciate your concerns, but they are not needed. I do not intend to marry this season.” 
“My advice should not be taken lightly.” Anthony made a triumphant noise as he found what he was looking for, the aforementioned quill, then turned his attention back to you. “I have been the man of the house for longer than you know, Miss Worthing, and I guided my sister through an extremely successful season. I consider myself an expert on such affairs; it would do you well to listen to someone else for once in your life.”
You raised your eyebrows. “Do correct me if I am mistaken, but I believe that the man Daphne chose to marry was the one suitor you were intent on keeping her away from. Wasn’t it once you finally stepped back for a moment, she truly began to flourish as the diamond?” 
“You certainly have an interesting memory, Miss Worthing,” Anthony said, restraint clear in his voice. “I am sure that you attract many suitors acting like this.” 
“I don’t attract many,” you confirmed with a smile, “which is rather fortunate, seeing as I don’t plan to marry.” 
“As you’ve already said,” he noted. “An interesting plan, I admit. I cannot imagine your mother is too happy about it.”
“I cannot imagine why you would care so much about her prospects,” Eloise mused. “I would assume your hands are quite full with our family alone. You air your grievances enough just at the idea of my own debut.”  
“It is because she is a bad influence on you, Eloise. Your debut has already been delayed once, and if you continue to spend time around her it will surely happen again.” Anthony then turned to you and gave you a pointed look. “In fact, I believe it is time for you to go, Miss Worthing, if you wish to make it back to your estate in time for Lady Danbury’s ball.”
“How kind of you to remind me,” you said dryly as you stood up from the couch. Eloise stood as well and the two of you embraced, and she placed her hands on your shoulders when you separated.
“I’ll see you tonight?” she asked, and she glanced back at Anthony. “My dearest friend, who is in no way a bad influence?” 
You nodded with a laugh. “Of course. I wager I will need someone to accompany me as I find my true calling as a wallflower.”
“It would do you well to change your attitude,” Anthony interrupted, and you responded by rolling your eyes at Eloise as she stifled her own laugh. “You are hardly two and twenty, Miss Worthing. You should not want to throw away your potential so soon.”
“Once again, I appreciate your concerns, but your worries are unnecessary.” You raised an eyebrow. “If you are so intent on my becoming a true lady, perhaps you should take matters into your own hands and court me.”
“Ah, yes. My younger sister’s closest friend; the most desirable lady of the season.” Anthony gestured towards the door in lieu of explaining his sarcasm further. You just smiled. 
“I will see you tonight, Eloise,” you repeated as you started walking. “I look forward to your latest conversation.”
“I am sure my material is far more interesting than any suitor you may happen across,” Eloise reassured. “Including Lord Cardew.”
“You may be my savior yet,” you grinned. As you reached the door you bowed your head to Eloise, and then turned to Anthony and lifted your skirts up in a slight curtsy. “Lord Bridgerton.”
“Miss Worthing,” he responded in kind, offering the same tight-lipped smile as always. 
As Anthony closed the door behind you, Eloise fell back onto the sofa with an exasperated sigh. “Why do you treat her so, brother? Now that my dear Penelope has truly set off into society to find a match, she is the only one that shares my sentiments about our fates. I understand I might not be able to avoid it, but you should at least allow me this much.” 
“She is nothing but trouble,” Anthony responded as he crossed his arms behind his back. “It is in her best interest to find a husband as soon as possible, and yet she resists it with all her might. I should only imagine the kinds of things she is putting into your mind. Are you aware that she has been spotted in the heart of London attending rallies more boisterous than even you could handle?” 
“Truly?” she asked, her eyes lighting up with enthusiasm. “Oh, I must insist she bring me to her next one!”
“That is not my—” Anthony rubbed his forehead with a sigh. “You are just as impossible as her, are you aware?” 
Eloise grinned. “Now that is a compliment.” 
-
Lady Danbury’s ball was shaping up to be as dreadful as you had imagined. 
Your initial plans of blending in with the wallpaper as you watched from afar and enjoyed the music were foiled almost as soon as you had arrived — you faulted the gems embedded into your dress, insisted upon by your mother — for no sooner had you stepped foot into the main hall did the baron approach you.
“Lady Worthing, Miss Worthing,” he greeted with a slight bow, and he eyed you with a smile. “How wonderful to see the two of you here — especially you, my dear. May I say how ravishing you look in that gown?”
“You may not—” you began to say, but your mother cut you off with a very unladylike jab to your side, though masterfully disguised in her usual fashion.
“Thank you, Lord Cardew,” she said. “I apologize for my daughter; she is simply caught up in all the emotions she has been experiencing since her debut. She means no disrespect.” 
“I understand, my lady. Rest assured, I do not mind.” Lord Cardew extended a hand toward you, and your entire body stiffened. “Might I raise your spirits with a dance?” 
“I apologize, my lord,” you said emphatically. “My dance card is full.” 
Your mother forced out a bright laugh as she grasped your arm; it seemed you were already getting to her. “That certainly is funny, my dear! But of course, your card cannot be full as we have just arrived, and one does not refuse a baron in such a way.”
You opened your mouth to protest once more but she leaned into your side and muttered into your ear. “Just one dance with him. The sooner you do it, the sooner it will be over.”
The thought of your time spent within a yard of the baron being over as soon as possible was certainly an appealing notion, enough so that you plastered on a smile and took Lord Cardew’s hand. 
“I would be… honored to dance with you, my lord.” You had to force the words out, but he seemed none the wiser as his smile widened and he led you onto the floor. 
“I have had my eye on you for quite a long time, my lady,” he said as the two of you took your positions and seamlessly joined in with the flow of the other dancers. “You were a sure sight during your debut — truly, none of the other ladies hold even the slightest candle to you.”
“You flatter me, Lord Cardew.” You grimaced as his hand inched further down your waist and you glanced over at the orchestra, as if hoping the desperation in your eyes alone would be enough for them to cut the waltz short. Unfortunately, your silent plea achieved nothing. 
“I must admit, it is a surprise you have only just now entered society,” he said. You noticed your mother smiling at you in the group of many spectators, and you glared at her as best you could in the time the baron was looking away from you. The second his attention turned to you once more, that practiced smile was back in place. “Whyever did it take so long?” 
“I am afraid it is a private matter, my lord,” you said as politely as you could, but he shook his head. 
“You needn’t hold your tongue around me, dear,” he said as he spun you out and then took you back in, your entire body stiffening as he pulled you far closer than what was appropriate. “You do not extend the notion to any other member of the ton, so I do not see why it should apply to me.” 
“My mother simply decided to give me a few more years of respite,” you lied. “It is only this year that she decided she could not delay my debut any longer, so alas, I am here.” 
“And the season is made that much better by your presence, my lady.” Lord Cardew offered a smile and you were only able to manage one so thin it hardly qualified as a smile. But your invisible pleas must have done something because the waltz began to play to a close, and you had to hold back your breath of relief as you both bowed to each other.  
“Thank you for the dance and your… myriad of compliments, Lord Cardew,” you said as you straightened again. 
“It would do you good to get used to them,” he said with a smile, “for they will extend all throughout this courtship and our betrothal — you may have to work harder for them in marriage.” 
Your world stopped spinning on his axis as your entire body stiffened, frozen to the spot. 
“I am sorry?” you breathed, your eyes surely as wide as dinner plates as you attempted to process his words. 
“Compliments may be genuine, but they are also a ploy,” he said. “Without them, how does a man expect to claim a woman? Of course, after marriage a man does not have to fight for her affections anymore, so they—”
“I am not talking about your… views,” you interrupted sharply. “I was not aware of any engagement.” 
“Miss Worthing,” Lord Cardew sighed, his tone nothing less than patronizing, “it is obvious even to the most oblivious that your family is in need of whatever they can get — after our dance at the debutante ball, your father approached me and all but begged me to take your hand. Of course, I prefer to enjoy the process through a bit of courting, but rest assured, it will end in a proposal.” 
That was the shattering point. You had always known that your future hardly lay in your hands despite all your attempts to move it there, but you’d not expected your father to so easily yield— no, not yield, beg— to a man like the one that stood in front of you. 
You felt the rate of your heart speed up as your breathing fell shallow, and you knew you would not last another second in the middle of it all. 
“Excuse me, my lord.” You extracted your hand from his grasp, thankful for the barrier of your gloves however thin it may have been, and offered what you hoped was a convincing smile over the anxieties running rampant below the surface. “I find myself quite parched after our dance — I shall return soon after fetching a glass of lemonade.” 
Before the baron could protest you turned on your heel and set off towards the refreshment table. You poured the liquid from the pitcher into your glass with shaking hands, eyeing the baron out of your peripherals once you finished. The moment his attention moved away from you, you set your glass down and hurried off, easily dissolving into the crowd from years of practice. You glanced over your shoulder once more to ensure you were not being followed before you ducked around the corner. The second you were out of sight you picked up your skirts and ran, every step away from the main hall reducing the weight on your shoulders.
If this was to be the model for the rest of the season, you were sure that you would not survive it — you would not even survive another second in Lord Cardew’s presence. 
You nodded your thanks to the servants as they opened the outside doors to you, and you sucked in a large breath of fresh air once you reached the gardens. Thankfully, the nobles here numbered few — enough for you to remain proper being there on your own while still allowing yourself time to recover from what your parents wanted to be the start of the rest of your life. 
You leaned against the wall, the night breeze cooling your flushed cheeks. You hadn’t the slightest clue how you were supposed to get out of anything involved Lord Cardew, especially the inevitable proposal — no matter the number of your denials, it was just a nicety; the second he tired of your stubbornness, he would go over your head to your mother or father and trap you in a marriage you would spend the rest of your life resenting.
You cursed underneath your breath as you allowed yourself a moment to look out over the gardens. If only he were not a baron — then he would be any other common suitor, one that would be no closer to royalty than you and therefore requiring no special treatment. 
It was then that your gaze caught hold of a certain viscount, standing around idly amongst the small groups of people with a flute of champagne in his hand. 
It was no surprise to see Anthony away from the party — his infamy did not come from his eagerness to participate in the season — but you did smile a bit at it all. He was doing the exact same thing you were, running away from responsibility; he just had the added benefit of alcohol. Maybe the two of you shared more similarities than you thought. 
Your eyes suddenly widened. 
Perhaps there was a way to get out of your predicament. 
You hitched your skirt up yet again and all but ran over to the viscount, and his eyebrows rose as you approached. 
“Miss Worthing?” he greeted with a hint of confusion, though he didn’t get the chance to continue. 
“Anthony,” you breathed, coming to a stop in front of him as you loosened your grip on your skirt, “I am in dire need of your assistance.”
“Lord—“ he began to correct almost instinctively, but you shook your head.
“I’ve no time for a lecture,” you interrupted. “I need you to court me.”
He looked so utterly dumbfounded that if your social life wasn’t in the hanging you would have laughed. “Excuse me?” 
“I need you to court me,” you repeated. “Right now.” 
Anthony frowned. “My lady, are you feeling alright?”
“No,” you responded curtly, “no, I am not alright, seeing as the one man that my mother seems intent on me marrying is the single most despicable man in all the world. There is no possible way for me to get out of it alone, which is why I need your assistance.” 
He looked completely vexed, so many emotions warring on his face that you could hardly pick out one from the bunch. “I apologize for your predicament, but what could I possibly have to do with this?” 
“My mother is so intent on the union because he is a baron, and she is fully convinced that all of our problems will go away when I become a baroness alongside him. Because a man of such rank is interested in me, she will not be satisfied with anything less. But you—” you gestured towards him with your hand, a smile blooming on your face, “—you are a viscount. You are more, not less, and if I am thought to become a viscountess myself, then both my mother and every other suitor, especially Lord Cardew, will finally leave me be.” 
“Now I am even more convinced you have fallen ill,” Anthony muttered. “May I, if no one else has, inform you of how ill-advised a plan like this is?” He shook his head, that incredulous expression still on his face. “Even if it wasn’t, this is coming out of the blue — I do not want to marry you, my lady.” 
“Nor I you!” you exclaimed. “You’ve as little desire as I to be bound in a marriage; what better option than pretending to have eyes for each other to avoid a true commitment? At the end of the season, we will stage an argument after we’ve realized that we cannot continue into a union with each other, because I find you completely infuriating and you realize that I am simply far too good for you—”
“Excuse me?” 
You ignored him as you continued on your tirade. “You will no longer be courting me then — you will be free to delay your search for yet another season, and I will be free to live the life of a spinster.” 
Anthony frowned once more; you feared if he continued like this in your conversations, his brow would be permanently furrowed. “I was not aware that was a desirable status for a woman like yourself.”
“Well, perhaps not the title, but the life…” You sighed dreamily, allowing yourself to gaze off for a moment before looking back to Anthony. “An unmarried life would allow me the freedom I have always dreamed of. All I require is your fake courtship for one season, just one, and I will be able to find the rest of the way on my own.” 
Anthony was silent for a beat before he sighed. “I sympathize with your plight, Miss Worthing — it is one that Eloise finds herself in as well — but there is little I can do for you. This is not a matter I should be involved in; it is a conversation much better suited for your own family.”
“Do you believe that I have not tried?” you bemoaned, gesturing with exasperated motions. “The life that I want is one that you could have for yourself at any time. If you ever tire of society and decide you no longer want to be the man of the house, you could up and leave and no one would hear from Anthony Bridgerton again. You have seven siblings to leave in your wake, all there to pick up after you should you go. But for me — the sole daughter, the sole child of the Worthing family — I will never be able to have that life. Not without more sacrifice than I alone am able to give.” 
Anthony opened his mouth to respond, but all he did was stare at you with unwavering eyes, the silence in between the two of you weighing heavily in the air.
You screwed your eyes shut as you heard your name called in a familiarly unwanted voice, and with a shaky breath you opened them and looked at Anthony. The saccharine sweet smile you offered him was undercut by the pure desperation in your eyes as you lowered your voice to a whisper. “You’re out of time, my lord.” 
Just as the words left your mouth the man you’d been trying to avoid turned the corner, and you took in and let out a deep breath in preparation as you inched closer to Anthony. 
“Miss Worthing!” the baron exclaimed as he came to a stop in front of you, and you had to hold back a grimace at his bow. 
“Lord Cardew,” you greeted, latching onto Anthony’s arm as quickly as you could. Though Anthony stiffened at your touch, he allowed it. “I admit, I was not expecting you tonight.” 
“You have been a tricky one to find, my lady. You all but disappeared after our dance.” The lord’s smile quickly faded as Anthony cleared his throat next to you, and in a move that surprised you, pulled you closer to him. 
“Have you considered that it was by design?” he asked curtly, and you had to hold back your shock. “Miss Worthing is quite busy at the moment.” 
“Is that so?” Lord Cardew folded his arms behind his back, his expression unreadable. “Bridgerton, surely you are not suggesting—” 
“That he is courting me?” you interrupted with a slight smile. “It is more than a suggestion, my lord — it is the truth. I’m sorry to say that I am quite occupied; for the rest of the season, might I add.” 
The lord carefully controlled his surprise, the emotion only betrayed by the slightest raise of his brow as he looked at Anthony. “This is quite prominent news — such official courting, and so early on in the season? I had not heard even a word of it until just now.”  
“It is the truth, Cardew,” Anthony answered, “I assure you. It is high time I’ve found a wife, and I believe there could be none better than Miss Worthing.” 
“How interesting,” he noted tersely, his eyes set on you as he spoke. “It is a disappointment you lose your eligibility so soon, my lady. Though perhaps there is still time for your head to be turned for a more… suitable match.” 
“You dare to question Miss Worthing’s honor?” Anthony pressed, and he pulled you closer to him ever so slightly. “I will not have a man such as yourself setting his eyes upon my future wife and insulting her so.”
Lord Cardew set his jaw before he bowed his head reluctantly to both you and Anthony. “My sincerest apologies, Bridgerton—” 
“Lord Bridgerton,” Anthony interrupted, and once again you had to bite back your smile at the baron’s visible frustration. 
“...My sincerest apologies, Lord Bridgerton,” he corrected, but Anthony tutted. 
“I believe you owe an apology to the lady as well.” 
“Do not test me,” Lord Cardew snapped. “And do not think I will give up so easily on account of your ridiculous claim.” 
“Watch yourself, Cardew,” Anthony warned. “Should it come down to it, you do not want an enemy in me.” 
Lord Cardew glowered at Anthony for so long the tension could be felt in the air, until he finally released his anger in a huff and stormed off in a way unbecoming of a gentleman. With every step he took away from you, the more the weight on your shoulders dissolved.
“That is the man your mother wants you to marry?” Anthony marveled.
You nodded as you smoothed your dress down and let out a haggard breath. “It is a rather damning fate, is it not?” 
“Indeed,” he murmured, his own gaze fixed in the distance from where Lord Cardew left. “I suppose it is fortunate you have another suitor.” 
“It is,” you agreed. “Though I must admit, I did not expect you to go along with me.”
“It was just as much of a surprise to me,” Anthony admitted, and when you turned to him he still seemed slightly shocked. 
“Then I am all the more thankful for it. You have no idea how much you have just saved me.”
“I cannot believe what you have dragged me into,” Anthony lamented, and as he extracted his arm from your grasp you took a few steps away from him. 
“Do not worry,” you reassured. “I promise, it is nothing but a ruse — just to keep that awful man away from me until he finds a match in a lady that is not me.” 
“And how long will that take?
“I haven’t the slightest,” you offered with a tight smile, “but I pray it will be soon.”  
Anthony let out a loose sigh as he rubbed his forehead. “This is going to be a very long season.” 
“Indeed it will be.” You cleared your throat and took a moment to readjust the neckline of your dress before offering your hand to Anthony. “Now. Shall we indulge the ton with a dance to close out their night and give them something worthwhile to gossip about?” 
“I believe I am the one meant to offer you my hand,” he noted. 
You shrugged. “I suppose I am already preparing for my freedom outside of society.” 
Anthony stared at you for a moment before his lips quirked up. “You certainly waste no time.” 
“One must be efficient if they wish to get anything out of life.” You extended your hand further, your own smile blooming. 
“I agree.” Anthony took your hand and placed it on the crook of his elbow. “Shall we?” 
You nodded. “We shall.” 
— 
Lady Danbury’s ball had been the place of endless gossip after your first dance with Anthony — you now understood how he felt during the social season, for you were now, along with him, the talk of the ton, the center of attention from dozens of miffed mothers. To them, you were the childish, thankless, pathetic excuse for a lady that had taken away their daughter’s chance at viscountess. You had to admit, you did not at all enjoy the spotlight, and on your third dance you’d started to wonder if this truly was the best option — for both your sanity and your feet. 
After all you had committed yourself to in the night before, you had been looking forward to at least sleeping soundly once you retired for the evening. And though you had been granted the relief, it was taken away far too early.
The steps of your lady’s maid alerted you to her presence even before she threw the drapes open, sunlight immediately filtering into your room. 
“Julia,” you groaned as you covered your eyes from the fresh rays with your arm, “you know I adore you, but I do not know how much longer I can handle these early wakings.” 
“My sincerest apologies miss, but your mother insisted upon it.” 
That was the quickest way to get your attention. You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes and when you looked up, you were, true to Julia’s word, greeted with your mother. 
“What are you doing here so early?” you mumbled, turning onto your side and burying your head in your pillows to avoid the sun. “I don’t have any arrangements planned.”
“The newest edition of Whistledown came this morning,” she explained, walking over to sit down on the side of your bed. “And my dear, you must read it.”
You groaned once more, reluctantly turning over and sitting up as your mother offered you the pamphlet. 
Dearest Reader,
Is there anything as exciting as the beginning of a brand new season? The ton comes to life once more, with frantic mamas and earnest debutantes all finishing last minute preparations in the hopes that they will be crowned the season’s diamond. I certainly know it is a modiste’s favorite time of year. 
You raised an eyebrow at her. “This is truly thrilling news, mother.”
She hit your elbow lightly and pointed towards the end of the edition. “Skip here.”
I had not anticipated delivering this news so early on in the season, nor ever, if I am being truthful, but I do admit it excites me. It appears as though two of the most stubborn heads to set foot in London have found solace in each other, in a move that not even I expected. 
The rumors are indeed true: The Viscount Bridgerton has finally commenced his search for a wife after years of rakedom, and his choice in courtship is none other than Miss Y/N Worthing. Both are known for their outspoken views against marriage, but maybe it is the common dissatisfaction that has brought the pair together. Whatever the reason, they are sure to shake up England together. 
I am ever looking forward to how this courting will end, so fret not; every step of this unusual union will be uncovered. Oh, gentlest reader, I only hope you are just as intrigued as I.  
Yours Truly, 
Lady Whistledown. 
You hummed, unenthused as you handed the leaflet back to her. “I’m in Whistledown.”
“Unbelievable,” your mother said with a shake of her head, and you closed your eyes as you let your head fall back against the pillows. “This is huge, darling!” 
“Really, mother?” you sighed. “You pay no mind to any of my other accomplishments, but getting mentioned by Lady Whistledown is worth your attention. I do not understand it.” 
“It is not Lady Whistledown I am concerned with,” your mother admonished with a glance in your direction, “you know that. It is the fact that you are being courted by Anthony Bridgerton! My darling, you are to be a Bridgerton! Oh, I am so proud of you!” 
How ironic, you thought, that the one thing your mother is proud of you for is something that is not even real. It truly is just your luck. 
“Yes,” you responded idly, “it is quite exciting. But there is no guarantee that I will be a Bridgerton, mother. All the viscount did was request a dance, and all I did was indulge him. It can hardly even be considered courting.” 
She sighed, immensely exasperated. “One does not simply dance with an eligible lady as a bachelor if one does not intend on courtship. Have I not taught you anything?”
“On the contrary, I argue that you have taught me far too much.” You fixed her with a pointed look. “I should think there is no room left for anything of actual importance after all the meaningless dances and instruments you have forced me to learn.”
“I understand you are not a fan of quadrilles, but do not lie to me and say that you do not enjoy the violin.” Her lips quirked up in amusement, and you could see in her eyes she was going back to it. “That was a particularly interesting summer, when you decided to try your hand at as many instruments as you could find.”
You chuckled. “Well, if we couldn’t afford a teacher, I was going to try as many as possible to see what clicked. I just did not anticipate enjoying all of them so much.” 
Your mother smiled at you, and you were reminded of how fond you were of her company when marriage wasn’t on her mind. “You are certainly more gifted than me at the pianoforte — I was a complete wreck. My voice was my saving grace.” 
You laughed again with a knowing nod — your mother accompanied you more times than you could remember with her singing, steadfast through every single instrument you insisted on learning. But your thoughts were interrupted with a yawn, and you covered your mouth with the palm of your hand, giving your mother a soft smile once it passed. 
“As much as I am enjoying these memories, I must admit I am exhausted,” you said as you leaned back against your pillows. “And your early rising for the sake of Whistledown has not helped.”
“Darling,” your mother sighed. “Ladies start their day bright and early — now that you have debuted, you do not get to laze around all morning and read all day. You have duties you must attend to.” 
“I do not have any engagements today!” you protested. “If you so approve of the viscount courting me, I am in need of my rest to deal with him. He is quite a handful.” 
Before your mother could respond, another maid poked her head in through the open door. “Excuse me, misses — forgive me for the interruption, but Miss Worthing has a caller. He is waiting in the drawing room.” 
Your mother’s eyes widened with excitement as she stood up from your bed, satisfaction underneath her smile. “You do have an engagement, my dear, and I cannot wait to see who. Maybe it is the viscount himself!” She squeezed her hands together, her smile growing larger by the second. “Oh, how exciting!” 
Before she exited your room she looked at your lady’s maid. “Julia, will you assist her in getting ready? I do not trust her judgment on such an important matter.” 
“Of course, my lady,” she nodded, and you blew out a loose sigh as your mother closed the door behind her. 
If this truly was Anthony, you needed to ensure any future meetings were set at a much later hour. Elsewise, you would not survive this courtship either. 
“So,” Julia couldn’t help the smile on her lips as she laced up your corset, meeting your eyes in the mirror, “you must explain to me how you have gone from an avid hater of marriage to being courted by Anthony Bridgerton, of all men! I believe we have stood in this exact same position before, only with the topic of conversation being his latest outrageous act by word of Miss Eloise rather than his courtship of you.” 
You sighed, shivering slightly as her cold fingers brushed over your shoulder, and shook your head. “I do not even think I can give you an answer to that, Jules. It certainly is… something.”
She chuckled and began to help you into the dress she had selected, the light blue fabric embroidered with white thread designs hanging off of your build in a simple but flattering way. “Whatever the reason may be, I hope you know I am proud of you. I know it is not easy to embark on a journey like this, especially one you have been so firm in denying, but I have the utmost faith that you will succeed. You are doing a great service to your family.”
You opened your mouth to say something but she interrupted you with that slight smile again. “And before you claim the opposite, know that I have always been proud of you, not just in your social season. You have blossomed into a truly wonderful lady, and that will not change whether or not you gain the weight of a ring on your finger.” 
Your lips quirked up into a small smile of your own as Julia laid a locket around your neck, letting your hair go once she clasped the two ends together. “What would I do without you?” 
“Most likely find another much less willing servant to rant to,” she joked. “But you needn’t worry — I am not going anywhere.” 
“And for that, I am eternally thankful,” you said, “though I do not think I am granted the same fate.” 
Julia smiled and smoothed out the sleeves of your dress before she turned you around, that steadfast confidence in her eyes that you knew so well helping to calm your nerves. “You will do just fine, my lady. Anthony Bridgerton is only above you in title and nothing else — I have the utmost faith that you can handle him.”
You had no worries about handling him — your troubles lay more in the fact that your arrangement was nothing more than an illusion. Anthony was not particularly known for his patience, and though you had an agreement, your fears were anchored in the true reliability of your fake beau. It was not at all out of the realm of possibility for the viscount to reach his limit and ruin this entire thing for the both of you. 
Though you often aired your troubles to your lady’s maid, you could not do that now— not when your troubles were of such a sort. So instead you merely took a deep breath as you smoothed out your skirt and adjusted the neckline of your dress.
“Indeed. Now,” you turned to face her with a smile, “shall we?”
-
You trailed through the hallways of your estate with Julia by your side, trying not to show too much of your disdain. Anthony’s courtship of you did not mean you had to act the part of a doting lady, but it did mean your civility was required. 
Of course, a small part of you hoped that it was not Anthony who sat in your drawing room. The amiability required by his courtship was not necessary for a normal suitor — at least if another man was your caller, you needn’t hold your tongue.
Your hopes were dashed the moment you stepped inside the open doors of your drawing room, trying your best to keep a straight face at the sight of the viscount. He did not share your feelings, made obvious by the smile that bloomed on his lips as he stood up from the couch.
“Ah, Miss Worthing!” he greeted. “I was wondering when you would show.”
You responded with a tight smile of your own. “When one shows up unannounced, he should expect delays. In fact, he should consider himself lucky for even earning an audience.”
Your mother laughed uncomfortably as she stood up from her chair, guiding you over to Anthony with an arm on your shoulder. 
“Forgive my daughter, Viscount Bridgerton, please,” she said with the voice of an exasperated mother. “It is still early, and she has not yet broken her fast — she is slightly irritable.”
“It is of no worry, Lady Worthing,” he reassured, and Anthony sat down with you. “I hope I was not an imposition.”
“You—”
“—Are not at all!” Your mother interrupted once again before you could say he most certainly was. She settled in her chair and picked up her embroidery hoop once more, offering a pleasant smile to the two of you. “Please, feel free to converse as if I am not even here.”
You offered her a tight, mocking smile as you turned to Anthony, lowering your voice so as to keep your insults private.
“You are a cruel man,” you muttered, glancing at your mother out of the corner of your eye to ensure she could not hear your true words. “This was not how I hoped our partnership would begin.” 
“However so?” Anthony asked, tilting his head to the side slightly. He was clearly enjoying your pain, of which he was the cause. It was truly irritating. “If I recall correctly, this entire affair was your idea.”
“Showing up as an unannounced caller, and at this hour nonetheless?” You shook your head. “This arrangement is meant to be equally beneficial. I cannot benefit if I am forced to bear constant early wakings.”
“I am an early riser, my lady,” he said, and you could not figure out whether or not his austerity was genuine. “And I have long held the belief that the morning is the best time to achieve anything, when one’s mind is at its most alert.” 
“Your ‘alert mind’ is doing you no good if you are unable to see the effect this has on me,” you said, glaring very pointedly at him as you lowered your voice even more. “This is a fake courtship. None of this is necessary.”
“I see it very clearly. I figured putting up with my own sudden visits could be your payment in return for springing something like this on me at the last possible moment,” Anthony said. ”As you know, I am a man of honor, a gentleman at that— if you want anyone to believe this, you will have to deal with my actions.”
“You could have refused,” you pointed out. 
“I should hope you do not see me as horrid enough to allow that man to actually court you,” Anthony countered with a slight frown. 
“Daphne’s season spells out something entirely different.” 
“You are aware of how much longer this arrangement will seem if you insist on arguing your way through it,” he said dryly.
“It is in my nature,” you responded with a smile. “It is how I’ve managed to avoid suitors thus far.” 
He hummed. “Perhaps I should have been taking tips from you long before this season. No matter how often I expressed my intentions to stay unmarried, countless mothers continued to all but throw their daughters at me. It’s not enjoyable in the slightest.” 
“Imagine how the young ladies feel,” you mused. “Being forced to try their hand at you knowing you fully despise them.” 
Anthony raised an eyebrow. “Is that not what any suitor considering you must deal with?” 
Your nose crinkled at the idea. “I… suppose you are indeed correct.” 
“I often am,” he responded, his smugness not lost on you. 
Your gaze flitted away from him for a moment before an idea popped into your head. Thus far, it seemed that this fake courtship between you and Viscount Bridgerton would be a test of who could irritate the other the most without breaking the illusion you were creating. 
Two could certainly play at that game. 
“Why yes, my lord!” you exclaimed, purposefully raising your voice so that your conversation could now be heard. In your peripherals you saw your mother look up from her embroidery hoop as well as Anthony’s sudden frown, and you could hardly hold back your smile. “I would love to visit the marketplace with you. How kind of you to notice that I am in need of a new reticule.” 
Your scheme quickly dawned on him, but beyond the slightest crease of his eyebrows there was no sign of the distaste surely brewing underneath the surface. 
“The marketplace?” You turned as your mother spoke, a satisfied smile on her lips. “That sounds like a lovely idea, Lord Bridgerton. Thank you immensely for your kindness.”
“Of course,” he replied easily, and after he stood up himself he offered a hand to you. You stood up without it, causing only an amused expression to flit across Anthony’s face as he looked over at your mother. “Should you like to accompany us?”
“Oh, no.” She brushed it off with her hand as she beamed at you. “I do not want to intrude on the new lovers. Julia, would you please chaperone them?”
Your lady’s maid nodded with a smile. “Of course, my lady.”
Anthony offered his arm to you, and this time you took it, albeit very begrudgingly. “Do you hear that?” he muttered with obvious amusement, leaning to speak into your ear as the two of you walked out. “We are new lovers.”
“You could at least act as if you are not enjoying this,” you whispered back. 
“Oh, but I am,” he smiled. “And you should be as well! This was your idea, and yet you are already completely miserable. What were you thinking when you proposed this to me?”
You huffed. “I was thinking the man that has avoided marriage for his entire life would not be so insistent on conducting a real courtship.”
Anthony simply chuckled. “Then it appears you still have much to learn about me.” 
-
The fresh air of the London streets helped in clearing your mind as you strolled through the marketplace, despite the fact that you were arm in arm with Anthony Bridgerton. It did bring you some satisfaction to know that you had at least dealt yourself into the fold with this outing, but you had a feeling Anthony could play this game far better than you. 
After all, a man did not become the head of his household and prepare his myriad of siblings for their respective seasons without picking up some skills of his own, even if he has not yet chosen a wife — especially if he was without a wife, it seemed, as Anthony had all the charm and knowledge of how to seduce a lady and yet none of the results. You surmised that was just the way he liked it. 
If anything, this was just as much of a game to him as it was to you. Some way to make himself feel like even more of a gentleman while avoiding the ton and having a bit of fun all the same. 
“My lady, did you hear me?” 
You blinked a few times as you looked to Anthony, shaking your head. “Apologies. My thoughts are much more interesting than you.”
He chuckled. “You wound me so, Miss Worthing. However am I to cope knowing the woman I am courting does not see me the same way?” 
“Do you always act like this?” you questioned. “Because if that is the case, it is certainly no wonder you have not found a wife. You are far too irritating for any lady to possibly stand.” 
“Did you choose me for your task simply to ridicule me?” Anthony asked instead. “Although I admit I enjoy your company, Miss Worthing, I am not sure if I can handle an entire season of insults.”
“You have seven siblings,” you said. “You have handled fifteen years of insults.”  
“Ah, but they are all the more scathing coming from you.” You chuckled a bit at his words, and Anthony continued. “But truly, what was your reason for choosing me over any other man?”
“I chose you because of your title,” you said simply.
“There must be other viscounts or earls for you to rope into this scheme,” Anthony said, “other men that do not annoy you half as much as I.”
You smiled a bit. “Truth be told, you are the only one I am acquainted with that is of higher ranking than the baron. Even if I knew others, the plan only came to mind when I saw you out in the gardens last night, and you are the only one that I could think of that would even entertain my offer.” 
Anthony hummed in acknowledgment. “It is rather fortunate I was there, then— it will be a welcome reprieve for the season, not having to deal with mamas throwing their daughters at me left and right.”
“See?” you said. “It was purposeful on my part. Mutually beneficial, just as I told you.”
He chuckled, and you smiled. The two of you continued to walk idly through the marketplace, his attention lingering on each stall for a few seconds before passing to the next. The silence between the two of you was surprisingly comfortable, especially with the ambiance of the city you so enjoyed, which is why the question that came out surprised you just as much as him. 
“Why did you choose me?” 
Anthony gave you a curious look. “I’m afraid you have to be more specific, my lady.” 
“By agreeing to this ruse, you chose me, just as I chose you,” you said. “Why would you do such a thing when you are not yet officially looking for a wife?”  
“…I suppose your words struck me,” he responded. “Your position is not one of envy— the sole heir to a family in need, put on a pedestal to a horde of suitors that you don’t desire in the slightest. I am in a similar position, having to marry for the good of my family, but you are correct. The level of scrutiny I face is nowhere near the amount you must put up with, and the idea of you marrying…” Anthony grimaced, “that sorry excuse for a man? No one with good conscience could deny you.”
“So you accepted because of sympathy,” you said.
He chuckled. “Perhaps. Would you rather I outright denied you?”
You smiled yourself as you shrugged. “No. I just enjoy questioning everything you do.”
Anthony shook his head, though he was clearly amused. “Perhaps we should continue this courtship for real— you already bother me as much as a true wife.”
And at that, you laughed aloud. “And you irritate me as much as a true husband.” You glanced behind you to see your lady’s maid walking a distance behind you, pretending not to listen but very obviously eavesdropping.
Anthony glanced back as well and looked at you, catching onto it. “Will she be a problem?”
“Julia?” you asked, and when he nodded you laughed again. “Spare no mind — she has been one of my closest confidantes, and I hers, for as long as I can remember. Should she overhear anything, she will not repeat it.”
“You are close with your lady’s maid?” Anthony asked, and you frowned.
“Are you not acquainted with your manservants?”
“No,” he said, “they are simply servants. I’m friendly with them of course, but certainly not close. Not to the level of sharing secrets.”
“I cannot imagine that,” you sighed. “We employed her three years ago, and since then she has become one of my best friends. Julia knows some of my closest secrets— not having such a bond with the person who spends so much time with you is nearly impossible in my eyes.”
Anthony went silent, and when you looked over you saw him staring at you with an odd look in his eyes.
“What?” you asked, and he shook his head.
“Nothing,” he said, and then he stopped you in front of a market stall that was selling coin purses and reticules. “Should we complete the task we embarked on this journey for?”
You wanted to push him on the subject of his thoughts, but you decided not to as you gave him a smile instead. “So formal, my lord. But I suppose it cannot hurt.”
Anthony picked up a light blue reticule, the white embroidered floral pattern particularly catching your eye. “This one rather suits you, I think. It matches your gown.”
“You’ve got quite an eye!” you exclaimed, taking it from him and holding it up to your dress. You weren’t one to indulge in luxuries such as mindless shopping — you couldn’t quite afford it, to be truthful — but… it did compliment your outfit, and it was a lovely purse.
But you did not even have a chance to deliberate any further, as Anthony was already talking with the merchant. Before you knew it he was thanking her and handing over coin, and you raised your eyebrows at him.
“What?” he said, having the gall to not even look ashamed. “You did say you were in need of a new reticule.” 
You opened your mouth to protest, tell him that you could not afford to waste money on trivial things such as purses out of instinct, but you realized you did not have to. It was the Bridgerton’s coin, and they were far more affluent than your family— with seven children, they had to be. 
And if it was on the Bridgerton’s coin, did it really matter? Would you not be expected to accept gifts from the gentleman courting you? 
“...Thank you,” you finally said, and you beckoned Julia over. 
“What do you think?” you asked as she stopped next to you, holding it up in front of you to model it. “Does the viscount have a better eye for fashion than I thought?”
Julia grinned. “It is as lovely as you, my lady. The color compliments you perfectly.”
“You flatter me so,” you said with a smile. 
“I only tell the truth, Y/N,” she insisted, and you chuckled. “If I may, I’m in need of a few items— do you mind if I wander for a bit?”
“Of course,” you nodded. “Would you like us to wait for you?”
Julia shook her head. “I know the way by heart; I will be fine. Enjoy your time with the viscount.”
She winked at you as she walked past, and you couldn’t stifle your laugh as you rolled your eyes. She would be the death of you, you were certain.
“Shall we, then?” Anthony offered his arm to you, and you nodded as you took it. The two of you began to walk again, the conversation picking up once more.
“Your workers call you by your name?” he asked, and you raised your eyebrows. 
“Not all of us are viscounts of important families, Anthony,” you said. “I do not see the need for someone I regard as closely as a sister to call me by a title I’ve no use for. Many would certainly argue I am in no way a lady.” 
“If your family is viewed in such a way, then why not try to change their opinion? Why not marry a man of higher standing, bring the Worthing name up with you, and prove the ton wrong?”
“I’ve no need for you to impart your wisdom upon me, Lord Bridgerton,” you chuckled. “In terms of high society, yes, my family is wildly poor. But if we were to just exit the ton, live a normal life in middle class sections of the city, or even move to the country where we can have an even simpler existence, then all of our problems would be solved.” You sighed deeply. “But I do not think my parents will ever choose to do so. I’ve no idea why they are so set on us remaining in Mayfair.” 
“You used my title,” Anthony mused, the statement coming out of nowhere after a weighted moment of silence. “Was a walk together all it took for you to find it in yourself a modicum of respect?”
You let out a laugh and looked at him with mirth twinkling in your eyes. “If this walk somehow earned you my respect, then the clarification of it has certainly lost it. Besides; I thought it quite obvious I was merely joking.” 
“The more time I spend with you, the more I think that half the insults towards me in Eloise’s repertoire have in fact come from you.” Anthony gave you a pointed look. “Have you anything at all to say about turning my sister against me?” 
You shrugged. “I cannot be blamed for Eloise’s own creativity. However she chooses to express it is out of my control.” 
Anthony chuckled and glanced away for a moment, before a surprisingly soft gaze found its way to you. 
“You are much more than I expected.” He did not say it with disdain, rather an unexpected lightness. Maybe the viscount was not the way that you expected either, with walls surrounding his emotions impenetrable even by the queen’s army and a mind set only on business matters. Maybe it was possible that Anthony Bridgerton truly had a heart. 
But you could not tell him that you were already beginning to see him in a different light — no, that would mark you as the loser of this game you’d started. You were quite good at irritating others, Anthony included, as you’d realized after years of friendship with Eloise. It could not be too difficult to continue it under the guise of a courtship. 
So instead you shrugged, an amused smile on your lips. “Perhaps there is still much for you to learn of me.” 
And in that moment, looking into Anthony’s eyes, you would’ve given anything to hear his thoughts. But you could not, and so when he smiled back at you, it was merely a smile.
“Perhaps there is," he said.
-
perm tags: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77 @simonsbluee @kwyloz @masteroperator
bridgerton tags: @theonewithallthemilkshakes @milkiane
anthony bridgerton tags: @gwenebear @lurkymurker @likeballet @tommymcartney
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k-martins · 4 months
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Hey I was just wondering if you had any itafushi fic recs!! :)
Fanfic recommendations from your ITFS fairy godmother!
Separated according to classification! R.N = Reader's note (me)
G
Indelible by Lyrebirdswrites +4k words || Oneshot || AU Tattoo artist! Megumi and Florist! Yuji || Marriage proposal || Fluffy, love and peace || R.N: For more fanfics that use the language of flowers
The Seasons Of Our Life by auspicious_goblin +1k words || Oneshot || AU - No curses || ITFS will end like this If Gege is not a loser || Fluffy and slice to life || R.N: YES!!! ITFS ELDERLY YES!!!!
You’re The Only Good Thing In My Life by renarizaki +2k words || Oneshot || Canonical divergence || Megumi helps Yuji dye his hair || fluffy, slice to life andhumor || R.N: The Manga would be funnier if Yuji actually dyed his hair pink.
T
Nobody Saves Me The Way You Do by GallifreyanFairytale +3k words || Oneshot || Canon compatible || Yuji gives Megumi a bath || Anguish mainly || R.N: I love how this writer describes Megs' scenes and feelings <3
No One Gets it Right on the First (Or Second) Try by j_jabbers +12k words || Oneshot || AU - No curses || ITFS and its failed encounters || 5 + 1, humor, fluffy and slice to life || R.N: I really like Yuji's POV where he is a failure in love.
Plant Kisses Like Seeds by Miah_Kat +4k words || Oneshot || Canon compatible || Yuji has survivor's guilt, good thing Megumi is around || Anguish and fluffy || R.N: This fanfic hits my weak points very hard. I'm passionate about body worship scenes.
And I've Been Tryin' Not To Feel It by hijinks_n_lowjinks +37k words || In Progress || Au - No curses/College || ITFS slowly (or not if you're Megumi) falling in love || Humor, slice to life, fluffy || R. N: God bless jinks for always making my day better with an update to this fanfic.
M
Can't Have It Both Ways by vivevoce +4k words || Oneshot || Canonical divergence || The ITFS meeting takes Todo through all the stages of grief || Humor, nonsense and fluffy? I think it's cute || R.N: This fanfic made me wish for fillers with the people of Tokyo and Kyoto coming together in a common goal - to destroy Todo's lack of sanity
It's a Goddamn Blaze In The Dark by prosciutto +13k words || Oneshot || AU - No curses/college || roommates, stranger>friends>lovers what more do you want? || humor, angst, fluffy || R.N: I really like how Megumi and Yuji are portrayed here. I feel like if we got a glimpse of their dynamic outside of the manga this would be it.
All The Bad Dreams That You Hide by lexouran +5k words || Oneshot (my tears)) || Au - Spiderman || Megumi receives a visit from her neighborhood friend || anguish, fluffy slight smut(?) || R.N: CAN YOU HEAR MY TEARS FROM YOUR HOUSE??? BECAUSE I CRY EVERY TIME I THINK THIS FANFIC HAS NO CONTINUATION!!
E
The Rabbit In the Moon by zillala +266k words || In Progress || Canonical divergence || Megumi finally confesses after Shibuya || Friends to lovers, angst, slice to life, humor, fluffy || R.N: The first itfs fanfic I read and I will never regret it. God bless this author and her huge chapters that were my vitamin on dark nights without the manga.
Futile Devices by jellyjully +25k words || Oneshot || Post-canon || Yuji is exiled from Japan for years until Megumi finds him || Slice to life, humor, anguish, fluffy || R.N: This fanfic gave me vibes of a studio ghigle film. I think it's the ambiance.
To Have And To Hold by terriana +15k words || In progress || Post-canon and Dynamics a/b/o || Yuji tries to woo Megumi, but his lover's shikigami wouldn't approve of the idea || Humor, anguish, fluffy, slice to life || R.N: This fic gets funnier when I think about the kung fu bunny from eps 17. No wonder Yuji was so broken LMAO (Please terriana, if you see this tell me what you have planned for Nue, I'm very curious )
Hope this helps! (ɔ◔‿◔)ɔ ♥
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coco-santos · 4 months
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I Do
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The day has finally arrived the day Y/N and Rúben would be finally unite as one they will become Mr and Mrs Dias.
For Y/N she was excited a little bit nervous but she knew all those nerves would go away when she sees the love of her life by the altar . She's happy to be surrounded by her close friends as she got ready for the big day. Her makeup was done she just had to put on her gorgeous dress. "I just want to say a few words " Y/N sister who is also her maid of honour started. "Today is a very special day for a very special person and I know you dreamt of this day for almost most of your life I remember when we were little we use to make mood boards of our dream weddings and after I got married I never thought it would happen for Y/N because she was the true definition of a Bachelorette that was untill she met Rúben and he made her believe in true love and the rest is history now we here today trying to get you to the alter .... I'm gonna make a toast to Y/N and Rúben " she ended as everyone made the toast. Y/N finally got in her dress and the dress hugged every curve on her body the right way . Tears was threatening to come out . "No no don't cry we don't want to ruin your make-up "her best friend said. She gave them all a hug and thanked them for being here to share this special day with her .
Rúben was busy fixing his 4 year olds bow tie then his son Rauw asked what's marriage. "Well Marriage is when two people love each other very very much and they want to be together forever it's not just that but they bring two families together"Rúben tried explaining to his son that's from a previous relationship but he had full custody of him because his mother just left one day. "So that means you love Y/N very very much" Rauw asked. "Yes that means I love Y/N to the moon and back more then words can describe little one"Rúben patted his shoulder.
Rúben couldn't wait to see Y/N he was counting down the seconds for her arrival. He stand in front of the altar with his best man John Stones and a few of his other friends. All the guests was seated and everything went quiet when the music started to play and Y/N arrived....Rúben was speechless...the dress was beautiful but Y/N was a million times more beautiful. Before handing Y/N over to Rúben Y/N dad shared some words with his almost son in law. "Please take care of her in all her days and if one day you don't feel the same towards her don't break her down , cheat on her or just leave her bring her back to me so we can kill you together " he said making Rúben chuckle "I don't see that ever happening you have nothing to worry about I'll take care of her I promise " he said. Y/N father then gave her of to Rúben. "Wow you look beautiful I can't believe you all mine "Rúben said crying a little. "Aww you crying I would have walked back if you didn't " Y/N made a joke making everyone laugh. "Well we can't have that happening " Rúben said. "Family and Friends today we are brought together to celebrate the love between Y/N and Rúben most of you have been witnessing the special bond they have and how happy they make eachother and today they are here to make there promise to eachother so let's here them make there vows" the pastor said. "Y/N the first time I saw you I knew you were the one for me and I thank God everyday for letting our paths cross because I truly don't know where I would have been now without you I just can't imagine my life without you and also the way you were ready to step in and take on a role as a mom for Rauw is amazing and we both love and adore you very much and I know marriage isn't all sun shine and roses but as long as we have our love for eachother we can overcome everything I love you and I'll never make you doubt it " Rúben said taking her hand and placing a kiss on it . "You gonna make me cry"Y/N said wiping her tears. "Well I'm truly blessed to be standing here Infront of everyone today with you and I won't make any promises because we know life is not easy but I'll try to be with you every step of the way ,on your sad days I'll listen to what you have to say and comfort you and also on your happy days I'll overwhelm your heart with joy Rúben since the day I met you I couldn't picture myself with anyone else I knew that it's you or no one the day you and Rauw became a part of my life I became the luckiest person alive and if we aren't together forever just love me till whenever because I don't know about you but I pinky promise I'll love you forever"Y/N said connecting her pinky with his . "Can we have the rings " the pastor said. Rauw walked up giving the rings "Y/N I just want to say that I'm very happy to have a mommy like you and I love you very much " Rauw said hugging your leg. "Aww Rauwi I love you too" you said. Then you guys repeated everything the pastor said and you placed the rings on each others fingers. "Well if anyone is against these two being together come forward or forever hold your piece" Ruben then made a joke of him having a gun by his waist and turned around to look at everyone... everyone laughed. "Well then I'm not holding you guys back Rúben Dias and Y/N Y/L/N I now pronounce you husband and wife you maybe kiss the bride " And Rúben didn't waist any time to kiss Y/N...
RubénDias
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Liked by yourusername and 1,789,567others
Rubéndias Forever and ever @yourusername
Yourusername
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Liked by Rúbendias and 1,234,645 others
Yourusername Mr and Mrs Dias 💕
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roleplaymemeworld · 1 year
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𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐋 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐘
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A meme surrounding family planning, pregnancy & childbirth  best suited for medieval & fantasy setting. Feel free to change whatever you need to make the prompts suitable for you!
“Our marriage has not been consummated yet. How am I supposed to produce an heir?!” “The midwife advised me to sleep with you on a full moon for fertility.” “We have tried to conceive a babe for many years, but the Gods have not blessed us with one yet.” “You are still young. This loss only means we will try again.” “I hope this time we will be blessed with a child that lives.” “Will you be disappointed if it is not a son?” “This is not their first child and they have failed to produce and heir so far.” “She is with child, but remains unmarried. A scandal!” “Rumor has it that she is not pregnant by her husband, but her lover.” “We need to have an heir. I know you do not wish to share the bed with me, but we must try for the sake of our families. It is our duty.” “It is a woman’s duty to give her husband children. You are not excluded from that.” “She only had a babe a year ago and is pregnant again. If they continue like that, the poor girl will be spent by 25.” “I think I might be with child.” “I think you might be with child.” “How does one know when a child has taken root in the womb?” “You have been sick a lot recently. Might you be with child?” “We have prayed for this babe for years and the Gods have finally answered us.” “You look more beautiful with each day you carry my child.” “She has been positively glowing for someone so close to childbirth.” “You should rest, my dear. Let me help you sit somewhere.” “Do not over exert yourself. It is bad for the babe.” “The babe will be the best King/Queen our kingdom has ever seen, I have no doubt.” “I never wished to father children, but now that I look at the swell of your stomach each day, I cannot wait to be a parent.” “Confinement has been one of the more dull experiences of my life.” “Are you well? You look pale. Is it time?” “Since when have you been in pain? I think we ought to call for the midwife.” “Has no one told you how labor starts, child? Your babe is coming.” “Hold my hand and breathe. You are doing very well. It will be over soon.” “Get the birthing chair. The babe is stuck and we need gravity’s help.” “I do not want strangers in the room. Please dismiss everyone, but the midwife.” “Is this amount of blood normal?” “Would you like to take a hot bath to ease the pain?” “I do not expect you to stay in the birthing chamber with me. I know it is no place for a husband.” “The Queen is in labour. Let us hope the child will live this time.” “They say the babe is not coming and we might lose them both.” “You have to be strong now, or you might lose the babe.” “There is too much blood. Something is not right.” “It is just a bit of childbed fever. She will recover.” “The babe is small and weak. You should not get your hopes up.” “What a wonderful blessing, it is a son!” “They say an heir is what a man desires, but a daughter was what I truly needed.” “I’m afraid it is not over yet. There seems to be another babe on the way.”
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echantedtoon · 5 months
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What If: Douma Edition
DISCLAIMER: THIS WORK IS IN ABSOLUTELY NO WAY CANNON TO DEMON BRIDE AND IS NOT AN ENDING. IT IS A WHAT IF IDEA THAT I THOUGHT WOULD BE FUN TO WRITE. PLEASE KEEP THAT IN MIND GOING FORWARD.
Warnings: Douma IS his own warning. Possibly some innuendos.
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The cold silence pursed from a smile once faked and forced but now oh so full of life he never thought he'd ever be able to feel before now. Before he met HER. Sure the navigation was still rocky and if he was being completely honest, there was still a long way for him to go before he does make any one Hundred percent clear sense of it all. 
"Let me get this straight. So you're upset that your fiance wants to call off the engagement but you say that because the engagement was made by her father that she can't call off the arrangements? But she says that because her father died it's not up to him or you anymore and she can break it off if she wants to?....Am I understanding this right?"
Emotions sure were tricky. Previously he could just sit down and listen to hundreds of rambles without being ....Annoyed? Yes. That was the new emotion he was now able to feel. Suddenly faking and mimicking everything became genuinely harder. Sigh. He really needed to schedule in more vacation days with Master Muzan and Kokushibo-...No. No. He'll ask Mistress Rei instead. She'll be more sympathetic to his requests.  Meanwhile he was staring at a young couple in their early twenties sitting in front of him from his compound demanding that he help settle this annoying matter. 
The man nodded firmly before pointing at him. "Yes. You even blessed this engagement yourself two years ago, Lord Douma."
"Oh riiiiight. I remember that." No he didn't. He blessed so many marriages and engagements and divorces that he literally lost count of them all at this point. He waved a hand and forcibly smiled wider. "Such a happy time."
"Not anymore. She wants to leave me to marry another man! Surely you can see that we're meant for one another! You blessed our marriage so surely the gods see that too right!?"
Oh gods it was one of these days. Sigh. The woman had remained mostly silent throughout this entire ten minute rambling and just stared surprised at his chest. Usually he'd be flattered but he was too annoyed with this to care. Instead his hand reached up to shift something further up on his chest. 
"And has your fiance tried talking about this to you already?," he asked tilting his head. Platinum blonde locks of hair shifting with him. "Maybe she didn't even want this. Surely she's given her reasons."
"She has! But they're all nonsense! If she didn't want this marriage then she should've said so at the very beginning!"
The woman finally looked away from the thing on his chest and glared at him. "I DID!! But my father wouldn't listen! I wouldn't be engaged to a man like YOU otherwise!"
All the yelling was starting to not only annoy him but make a fuss of another. He couldn't deal with this anymore. He had an appointment to keep and he wouldn't be late because of a petty lovers' quarrel. So he smiled widely at them.
"I have a perfect solution for the both of you." Both instantly stopped and looked as he pointed at the man. "You're a young healthy man. I'm ordering you to consult my compound's matchmaker to find you a new engagement." The man looked shocked as he then pointed at the woman. "And you go marry whoever you want to. Now that that's settled, this meeting is now over!" He quickly stood up from the large comfortable pillows and plucked up a big bag with him. "Excuse me. I have an appointment to keep somewhere else."
"But-...B-But Founder!," the man called after him but he ignored it in favor of walking over towards the side door leading out of the room and to his private courters.
With his brisk legs it didn't take too long to step outside of the room and close the door behind him. A sigh of relief escaped his cold lungs as soon as he heard the door slide shut behind him. A chuckle to his left gave him another but smaller twinge of annoyance. 
"Not easy to get through today's meetings, Sir?" Kaleidoscope rainbow irises turned to an older woman. Her wrinkled face smiled amused at the younger man. "You've been taking more breaks than usual."
For once in his life he frowned. "Your words wound me. I thought my top helper would know better than to criticize hard work." A hand reached up to pluck a hat from his head. "Cancel anything else for me this week. I'm leaving for the Infinity Castle for a bit."
"Another meeting with Master Muzan? Or .. perhaps something else more familial?" She chuckled waving a hand to the object on his chest making him frown (pout-) more.
"Neither! I'm simply on my way to see my wife!" He finally smiled lighting up more. "My Happy is surely expecting me as we arranged it in advance."
He was so happy to finally get out of there for a while and ask (pester-) Nakime into teleporting him to the Infinity Castle or more Specifically the Dwell. It felt like a breath of fresh air as he stood in front of the familiar giant home one sound of a biwa strum later. He was happy to practically skip up to the door that instantly opened and a servant greeted him. But he paused seeing the object he carried with him... Before turning away to hide a snort. He rose a brow..but didn't bother with him to just skip a long... However he did notice all the amused or awestruck faces he got as he walked along the fancy corridors. 
This had been going on for the entire month. Why wasn't anyone taking him seriously!?
He frowned(pouted-) and continued along with the bag in hand until he came across a familiar corridor and briskly walked faster Until he stopped in front of the door smiling wider then ever. A hand reached up and knocked loudly on the fancy oak wood door loud enough to echo throughout the hall. It did not take too long for him to get an answer.
"Come in," a woman's voice called from within.
He wasted no time sliding the door open fast enough to almost slam it open and practically jump into the room locking onto a woman inside. "Oh my darling, Lotus Bloom!~"
You lazily rose a brow and looked up at the tall demon in the doorway closing the book in your hands. "You're three hours late."
Douma ignored you dropping the bag in his hands and persisted in rushing in, dropping to his knees next to you, and affectionately grabbing your hand in his hands. "My Angel.~ My light.~ My colors.~ My Happy!~ Oh how I missed you so!"
"It's only been a month," you deadpanned. 
He ignored that in favor of pressing his head against yours. "I was so loooonly without you. I wanted my wife so baaaaaad. I missed you so much!" A pucker of his lips followed as he puckered up and leaned in for an obvious kiss but stopped when a hand pressed against his mouth and pushed him back.
"You're over dramatizing things again, Douma. What took you so long? We agreed on a time and you promised to show up then."
He pouted again. "It wasn't my fault! My meetings take up so much time! Oh Y/n! Everyone's been so mean to me all month! They all keep looking at me like something's funny and no one's taking me seriously! I don't know why!" He whined.
You rolled your eyes before holding up a hand. "Maybe THIS is why." Your finger wiggled and was instantly snatched up by a chubby little hand.
Douma blinked before looking down at the platinum blonde haired infant strapped to his chest. His son giggled again and stared at you both with eyes of different shades of blues and purples. ".....Oh. Why would they be amused by this?" He gestured to himself. "I'm a good daddy! I always make sure he's with me."
You finally snorted amused. "Well seeing someone intimidating like you just walking around with a cute chubby baby on your chest would make you look a bit funny."
He pouted harder. "I'm a good dad!" He retorted crossing his arms. "I take care of, Lotus. And spend time with him! I'm good at daddy-ing!"
You again snorted at his choice of words and finding it easy people would be amused by his attitude on top of being a new dad but you both were still getting used to the custody arrangement. Douma can't be here all the time because of his duties and you didn't want to live in his compound, and you weren't going to force Rui to live there with his dislike of Douma already and his old family there. So you two formed an arrangement. You'd both take turns taking on Lotus until he can decide where he'd rather live once he was old enough. Each of you taking him for an entire month until the last day where you switched. It'd been five months now and so far it seemed to work out fairly well for everyone aside from Douma's pouting. You two hadn't made a big deal of telling a lot of people about Lotus yet still getting used to it so it was a bit surprise for a lot of people to find out that Douma was suddenly a father. 
You patted his cheek peeking him back up instantly. "Yes you are. And people finding you cute being a dad isn't a bad thing. It just means they know you're doing the best you can."
He smiled leaning in closer as Lotus cooed mindlessly. "Yes...So where is the young one?"
"He's training with Akaza today. Although I think they'll be back soo-"
You didn't even get to finish talking before the door slid open again and you both looked up. Both of you met the eyes of Akaza and Rui. No doubt Akaza had come to bring Rui home. All four of you stared silently at one another awkwardly before Douma sat back up to wave a hand excitedly at the link haired demon with a big grin. Akaza's eyes bugged out of his skull seeing the cooing baby strapped to the blonde's chest. He stared before looking at you, then at the baby, then at Douma, and then at the baby again.
"Hi, Akaza-dono! Did you finally come to see your best friend's son!? I'm AMAZING at daddy-ing!"
Akaza looked utterly, clearly, absolutely, so matter of factly, terrifyingly so, so, so, so HORRIFIED. "Oh dear gods no. THEY'RE MULTIPLYING!!"
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nerdygaymormon · 4 months
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Hey, I just wanted to thank you. There's no need to post this or respond to it, I just wanted you to know that I've been having trouble with faith, especially concerning the Church's stance on LGBTQ+ folks, and stumbling across your blog has helped me a lot. Knowing that there is a community of queer folks who actively exercise faith despite a church that seems to, at best, ignore their very existence is incredibly heartwarming to me and helps me see that if you can still believe and exercise faith that things will get better, so can I. So thank you, from the bottom of my soul.
This is such a kind note. Thank you! I'm glad you stumbled across my blog.
From what you wrote, I understand you're not queer. I'd like to share a bit about what it's like to be a queer believer.
The queer individuals I know who stay in this faith, they fight to do so. They don't passively receive what is handed down to them from our leaders as though they are guests receiving what is served to them. Instead, they take ownership of their faith. They have to decide that faith is important to them and why, they examine what has been taught over the years and decide what is meaningful to them and what they can discard, they seek their own relationship with the Divine. They are active participants in their own faith.
In the Book of Mormon's allegory of a vineyard, the tree and its branches represent Christ's people. It seems that the trees in the center of the vineyard get a lot of attention, they are pruned and nourished repeatedly. But it feels like those of us on the perimeter of the vineyard don't get much attention.
Those in the center, they get told of what great blessings in heaven await them, but us on the perimeter are given far fewer promises, we don't get the same encouragement & incentives. For example, if you're a cisgender straight person and you get married, you can be together forever and have eternal increase. That's terrific, but what about the rest of us, what do we get to look forward to?
Because we've had to fight to remain even though we're on the perimeter, we have learned many valuable things. For example, to be a queer believer is to have a testimony of the expansiveness of God's love. To me, it seems many Mormons have eternal marriage as the focus of their religious devotion, everything is about that. Even Christ gets reduced to being a tool that lets them be together with the person they love. For queer believers who don't have that option, Christ is the focus, knowing and becoming like Christ is the goal. That makes for a different experience.
Matthew 20 has a parable about workers. Some get hired early in the morning, some at mid-morning, and more get hired in the afternoon. They're each told what wages they'll receive if they'll go work in the vineyard. Then there's the final group of workers who before the workday is over, the landowner comes along and finds them and says to get on over to his vineyard and work. They are not told what wages to expect, but they go in hopes they will be treated fairly as they also need the blessings of a wage. At the end of the day, that final group of workers receives the same payment as the rest, even though none of the other workers think that's fair or right.
I feel like queer believers are like that last group of workers who trust God and believe we'll be treated fairly even as they're told by others that we don't qualify for all the blessings that they'll get. Also, the work done by all those who were hired before wasn't enough, that final group of workers was needed. In the same way, the church and other believers need queer folks and what we can contribute, the work is incomplete without us.
Here's the thing, to fight over a long period of time requires nourishment, we won't last long without that. We also need a community of support. There are online communities where we find each other. More and more we're seeing people start groups in their stake or ward, even if just an informal "let's all get together each month at my home." Consequently we're seeing more queer believers stick around because we're finding ways to meet our needs that weren't being met by the institution.
Okay, this is a response you didn't ask for, but I hope understanding our experience will give you insight into how you can become an active participant in your own faith journey.
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walkswithmyfather · 5 months
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Revelation 19:7-9 (NASB1995). “Let us rejoice and be glad and give the glory to Him, for the marriage of the Lamb has come and His bride has made herself ready." It was given to her to clothe herself in fine linen, bright and clean; for the fine linen is the righteous acts of the saints. Then he said to me, ‘Write, ‘Blessed are those who are invited to the marriage supper of the Lamb.’” And he said to me, ‘These are true words of God.’”
“Advent: A Time of Anticipation” By In Touch Ministries:
“Are you ready for Christ’s return?”
“This month, many of us rush from appointment to appointment as we shop, cook, and attend concerts, special church services, and other gatherings. Some of us look forward to the time with loved ones and the busyness of the Christmas season, while others of us breathe a sigh of relief when it’s all over.
This time of year, we encounter many well-intentioned articles and programs encouraging us to slow down and simplify. That can be good counsel. Considering what isn’t essential in a packed December schedule can be a clarifying exercise. But it might be helpful to add another question to the conversation: As we prepare for Christmas, who is it we’re waiting for?
The final chapters of Revelation are a reminder about the One who is coming. The wait of Advent can point us toward this reality and motivate a year-round mindset of readying ourselves for a lasting, eternal celebration with our Lord. Worshipping our coming King, obeying Him, serving Him, and always seeking to be faithful in things large and small—that’s the kind of preparation we can make, not just at this season but every day of our life.”
[Photo by NEOM at Unsplash]
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