Before I start, I want to share the Book Cover, which failed to be accepted...... As it was too long (눈‸눈)
...So This is the Book Cover of ...
^^^ DARLING, WE ARE THE DISASTER ^^^
And The Character Description....is here~~
Aether Aemilius | 27 | Height : 6'5" | Sharp-Jawed | Cold-Blooded | Ruthless |Unapologetically Lethal | His deranged soul? Always up for debate.
Aether Aemilius is a walking headline, a political prodigy whose dark grey eyes always scan grown men with his judgemental stare question them about their own existence. His words? Precise. His smile? Cold and Cruel. His ego? As sharp as blade. His presence? Will literally bring you on your knees (not from arousal _ but from high frequency anxiety attack).
Behind the all black attire, he's a man who doesn't even blink while watching the world burn -- especially if he's the one who holds the lighter. A genius. A ghost. A monster. They call him unfeeling, untouchable, unreadable.
And about his career, well, he's the Minister of Justice (Just like his name it's ironic). He became minister at 25___because he was bored.
_____________________
Lioraene Castemeur | 25 | Height : 5'7" | Psychiatrist(Psycho herself) | Beautiful? Yes. Dangerous? Absolutely.
She has a patient list full of power-hungry maniacs, the cold sociopaths who thinks they are cute, the philosophical poets, the 'I-diagnosed-myself-on-tiktok' squad(like ninja turtles?).
Dr. Castemeur plays golf with people's traumas. A chaotic elegance wrapped in satin and has a habit of undressing minds without permission. A hurricane in designer heels. Her words? Knife dipped in honey. Her attitude? Graceful anarchy in lip gloss.
She has no filter, no fear and no care for the hierarchy.
With her attire sharper than her elegance and a tongue that slices egos for brunch. Her attitude dipped in venom doesn't believe in rules.
Sassy? All the time.
Merciful? Only when she's bored.
_________________
Enemies. Addicts. Obsessions
Wrapped in silk and steel.
When they are together.....
It's the apocalypse.
Justice and Insanity tangled in velvet chains.
The ministry becomes a battlefield and every therapy is a crime scene.
She once called him "a walking daddy with issues in Versace."
Ohhh....Holy God... Psychosis has never felt this hot.
_____________
So this is the Love Story of two Deranged Lovers who don't do love, they declare war against each other.
In their words,
We are the Red Flags your parents warned you about. Forget Love __ We launch nuclear disaster.
_______________
And to introduce myself,
Hi, I'm Velvet Riot (Nice name, right!?)
An unhinged author whose characters need therapy for themselves.
It's going to be a modern romance, and of course only 18+ can read this, I don't write for children. Not my fault as my mind has already rotten with so much ahem let's not talk about this.
✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨
VILLAIN ERA _ By Bryce Savage
She's a bad chick with some liquor in her system
Watch out, you could be her next victim
(Ooh) she's like a drug in your system
(Ooh) I think I need a new prescription
She's a bad chick with some liquor in her system
Watch out, you could be her next victim
(Ooh) she's like a drug in your system
(Ooh) I think I need a new prescription
She's the type of girl you deal with, all the crazy
'Cause she knows how to lay it down on the daily
She'll call you "daddy", you call her "baby"
Yeah, she's a different kind of lady
She'll make you feel some things that you have never felt before
A new sensation when she opens up that Devil's door
I think it's over for me now
She took my chest and ripped it out
She's in her villain era, chapstick on with dark mascara
You better send a prayer up, hoping that she'll maybe spare ya
She's in her villain era, chapstick on with dark mascara
You better send a prayer up, hoping that she'll maybe spare ya
(Spare ya)
She's a bad chick with some liquor in her system
Watch out, you could be her next victim
(Ooh) she's like a drug in your system
(Ooh) I think I need a new prescription
She's a bad chick with some liquor in her system
Watch out, you could be her next victim
(Ooh) she's like a drug in your system
(Ooh) I think I need a new prescription
She's in her villain era, chapstick on with dark mascara
You better send a prayer up, hoping that she'll maybe spare ya
She's in her villain era, chapstick on with dark mascara
You better send a prayer up, hoping that she'll maybe spare ya.
***Please Don't Read my Story.
🕰️ Episode One : Trauma Surfaces with a sprinkle of 4K level of Delusion.
🧭 Location : Dr. Lioraene's Private Chamber, Castemeur Psychiatric Wing,
Moonrift Empire.
🕣 Time : 8.47 AM -- Right before she legally drowns in her Iced coffee.
☠️Mood : Sass in Glitter. Chaotic. Psycho in maroon lip gloss.
__________________________________________________________
The walls of Dr. Castemeur's private chamber were soundproof - not because for patients' privacy(absolutely not) but to keep people away to file a lawsuit against her for delivering unfiltered comments on her patients' sob story.
She calls it Psychiatry. But the interns call it - Emotional Demolition.
Soft jazz music were playing in the background, not to sooth mind but because it irritated the nerves of overdramatic persons and to beg for an exorcism. [She once performed exorcism to an overdramatic woman with a fake candle and clinical detachment.]
Dr. Lioraene Castemeur were sipping her espresso in a wine glass(So Classy. Right?).
She glanced at the first page of the file of her next patient.
Patient Name: Jessy Elbourn.
Age : 21
Reason for Refferal: "Hyperactive self-diagnosis disorder," with energy like a YouTuber with too much Wi-Fi and too many delusional issues.
The door suddenly burst open as if its subtlety owed it money.
"Helloooooo!" a sudden shriek (Key Point- Shriek. Note it) came as soon as the door 'opened'.
Jessy Elbourn waltzed in with four rainbow beaded(Each bead contains at least one dead brain cell) and three charm bracelets that sounds like cowbells.
"Sorryyyy! I'm late...... I was aligning my aura -- Venus is in retrograde and I nearly married my barista!''
Lioraene looked up stone-faced as if she just got witnessed jingle bell. "...... And Neptune told you to bring your Tinder Bio here?"
Jade dropped on the velvet chair like she bought that after bargaining with loose motion. "So I've BPD or ADHD or trauma from my past life as a medieval Capricorn."
Lioraene blinked. "Which official diagnosis confirmed it?"
"I diagnosed myself seven times with the TikTok filter that tells your mental trauma on your birth time."
Pause for Five minutes.
Lioraene nodded. "If your diagnostic coach has a soul, it has died four times in a row."
Jessy shrugged, digging through her neon pink tote bag. "Wanna see vision board? I wrote 'Healing arc is sëxy' in Glitter glue."
Lioraene didn't flinch. "Sweetheart, do you know what's also sëxy? A functional frontal lobe."
Jessy ignored and pulled out a mood lamp. "Also I bought this! It turns red when I'm angry and green when I'm cured."
The lamb turned gray.
Lioraene stared. "That's not an emotion. The lamp has committed súicide.''
"Anyway! My ex said that I'm manipulative. Well he's a Gemini and I just tracked his location two times."
Lioraene took a deep breath.
Diagnosis: Chronically dysfunctional.
Treatment Plan: Lock her in the basement with no Wi-Fi.
____________________
After one hour of emotional turbulence.
'The Self-Diagnosis TikTok coach'? Gone.
Lioraene? Sitting on her velvet couch.
"Next Victim - I mean, patient." She called out towards the door.
____________________
After five seconds.
A young intern peeked in like a terrified squirrel.
"Um..... Dr. Castemeur, Your next patient has arrived."
Lioraene hummed. "Tell me it's someone I can psychologically assassinate with emotion."
The intern swallowed. ''It's....umm.... it's.... Aether Aemilius."
Lioraene froze. Then smiled so sharply that it could slit someone's self-respect.
"Well, well......" She clapped. "The Grim Reaper's favorite intern decided to face his Emotional tax evasion. Should I prepare flower tea or cyanide?"
_______________________
End of First Chapter.
N. B : Don't try to find logic in my story. I buried logic with my poor mark sheets under a construction building.
......................
MOONRIFT EMPIRE : It's the fictional country name.
.......................
🕰️ Episode Two: When Black Velvet guilt meets maroon-lipped chaos.
🧭 Location : Dr. Lioraene Castemeur's professional chamber of committing crime.
🕙 Time : 10.02 AM - Right before her second Espresso, before her last shred of mercy.
☠️ Mood : Aesthetic. Spiritual. Dysfunctional.
____________________________________________________________
The smokey glass door creaked open like in a F-Rated horror plot.
Aether Aemilius had entered the chamber of 'secrets'.
6'5" of political trauma wrapped in all black suit so sharp that it had gone through its own security clearance. His dark grey eyes swept the room as if it personally offended him. His expression unreadable? Might be disappointed by the colour combination of the room - burgundy red and beige. His eyes scanned the room with surgical precision. If looks could kill, then the velvet couch was legally dead.
"Well, well," Lioraene chimed. "If it isn't the holy child of Renaissance Statues and frost giants. Say, minister, to what do I owe the pleasure of your surprise visit?" Her voice like silk honey dripping from a butter knife.
Aether stared at her blankly without blinking. Of course he didn't. "I was told this office offered..... psychological aid."
His voice was frosty enough to make glacier jealous. Typical.
She smiled sweetly. Too sweetly. "Psychological aid? Oh, Darling. You need an exorcism."
He ignored her and sat on the couch like judgment day.
"Let's make this quick, Castemeur."
She tilted her head. "You look thrilled, Minister."
"I'm forced into this." He said flatly. "This isn't voluntary."
"Oh? And here I thought you were just suffering from terminal emotional constipation and needed an emotional development."
Lioraene handed him a glass of water. "Here. Hydrate yourself. We'll have you cry your childhood issues by lunch."
He didn't take it.
Of course he didn't.
He started at it as if it was beneath him.
The therapy was beneath him.
Like feelings were personal insult like seeing glitter covered cutlery in brunch.
Lioraene leaned forward, eyes glittering. "Let's make this simple. Why you hate people?"
"I don't hate them." He said. "I just... don't need them."
A moment passed.(Only 5 seconds)
Then she tilted her head.
"Tell me something honest." She said casually.
"No."
"Anything. A truth. A memory. A feeling."
Aether stared at her. Silence stretched between them like a crime thriller.
Then, finally.....
"..... I hate being touched.... unnecessarily."
Lioraene's eyes didn't waver. "Physical trauma or emotional disinterest."
"Control..." He said simply. "When someone touches me unnecessarily, I can't predict their intention...."
She scribbled on her notepad right away.
Diagnosis Note : Control freak with detachment issues.
Possible alien. Maybe a cyborg.
"I see." She said. "And tell me what do you do when you feel sad?"
"I don't feel sad."
"Angry?"
"Only when required."
"Happy?
"Never familiar."
"Have you ever been in love?" She asked.
"No."
"Sex?"
"Plenty."
"Hug?"
"Disgusting."
"Have you ever felt affectionate to anyone?"
"..... You're enjoying this."
"Oh, absolutely." She said, grinning like gremlin. "It's like I'm interviewing an ancient fax machine."
He didn't say anything.
Lioraene reached out, gently brushing her fingers on the back of his hand.
He froze.
His entire body stiffened like a crime scene.
Aether stood up - abrupt, sharp, like a blade dressed in suit and cologne.
"Session's over." He said coldly.
Lioraene smirked. "Next week. Same day. Same time, Aemilius."
He didn't say anything. Didn't respond.
Just walked away.
She hummed still sitting on her couch.
..................
Okay. Time to reveal a secret.
So why is Aether Aemilius, the 6'5" Minister of Justice with a jawline that could end Democracies, decided to have psychological aid, sitting on the velvet couch like a cursed Greek statue.
Because someone forced him.
More to be specific?
His mother.
Yes. The woman who built a political empire and a real estate tycoon, survived five assassination attempts, and once told the Emperor to "change his fashion or choose to step down."...... That woman.
She called Aether last week like :
"My dear son, either go to therapy or I'll publish those childhood photos of yours wearing velvet sunflower attire." You choose.
And here we were.
Because apparently, "Emotionally unavailable with sociopathic tendencies" wasn't the brand she wanted for her elder son.
So,
Now he ended up in therapy.
Against his will.
With a doctor who treated trauma like olimpic sports.
_____________________
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