#it's so sad that she made him attempt to murder her :/'

[jakeperalta]

the way some people have interpreted tbosas really is proof that you can take the Worst Man Alive and literally any female character and people will still find a way to make her the """real villain""" and him their poor baby

[quaithe-seastar]

Burning Desire

Aemond x Older!sister Reader

Summary: You rush off to confront your brother Aemond after discovering he hurt your sister, only to find him crying. You are angry at him for what he has done, but you cannot stand to see your little brother suffer.

Warnings:  Angst, Smut, Sibling incest

A/N: This was supposed to be an angsty comfort fic, but it very quickly got out of hand. All dialogue in italics means that the characters are speaking in High Valyrian. I was just too lazy to attempt to translate it. No beta, so I apologize for any grammar and spelling mistakes. (Gif is not mine!)

You stormed through the castle halls, ignoring the maids and knights who quickly stepped out of your way. Usually, you would give them some sign of acknowledgment, but tonight, you couldn’t— not when your anger was boiling over. Your hands trembled with repressed rage, and your fingers curled into fists as you tried desperately to refrain from lashing out. There was only one person who was deserving of your wrath, and you were headed to find him now. 

When you arrived at his door, you entered the room, not bothering to knock. The loud sound of the wooden door slamming close behind you echoed in the air. The room was dark; only a few candles were lit, though they were burning dangerously low. You squint your eyes, searching until you find the silver-haired man hunched over in his chair. Your robe made a slight whooshing sound as you stormed over to his side. 

“How dare you!” Your voice cut through the air like a sharpened blade, every word dripping with venom and contempt.

Aemond says nothing. His head is lowered, and his long silver tresses conceal his face.

“You dare to lay a hand on our sister?! Has she not suffered enough?! And now you wish to send her into battle?!” Your chest is heaving wildly as you lose what little composure remains to you.

Once again, you are met with a deafening silence that angers you even more.

“Have you nothing to say?!” you yell, each word cracking like a whip. Your brows furrow and your lips curl into a snarl.

Yet once again, your words go unanswered. You open your lips, prepared to berate him even more until quiet sobs reach your ears. Your blood runs cold, and you freeze. Aemond’s body jerked with every gasp that escaped his throat. 

“I am alone,” he whispers . “As I always have been.”

His words move you to tears. 

“Aemond,” you whisper, stepping closer.

You reach out a hand to touch his shoulder but pull it away just before reaching him. Your mind is suddenly conflicted. Your rage is quickly converting into sadness with every second that passes. The two of you rarely saw eye to eye these past few weeks. His actions above Shipbreaker Bay had left you horrified. The abhorrent murder of your nephew, Jaehaerys, happened not long after. You blamed Aemond for that and did not bother trying to hide it from him.

Then, Aegon returned from Rook’s Rest, burned and broken beyond repair. Your mother came to you shortly after, sharing her thoughts about what had happened. She believed Aemond to be responsible, but you could not bring yourself to believe it at the time. But as the days passed, you found yourself becoming increasingly unsure. Especially after today, when the horrific details of his actions at Sharp Point reached you. Most days, you could hardly even recognize him—this strange man who shares the face of your sweet little brother.

You take a deep breath before reaching out. Your hand trembles as you place it on his shoulder, but he does not flinch from your touch. He leans into it. Aemond raises his head just enough to look you in the eyes. His face is stained with tears, and his eye is red and gleaming with tears, ready to fall. His silver hair is unusually messy and unkempt. The leather eyepatch is gone, exposing the beautiful sapphire embedded into his eyesocket. It is a sight he has entrusted very few to see.

“I am sorry,” he cried. “I didn’t mean to hurt her.”

“I know,” you whisper, pulling him close.

He buries his face into your stomach. His large hands gripped tightly at your sides, and you did your best not to wince. You lift a hand, brushing down his unkempt hair. You were angry at him. You had come here to yell at him, maybe even hit him, but you couldn’t. Not when it filled your heart with great sorrow to see your brother in so much pain. Your little brother. The boy you had always tried so hard to shield from the cruelty of this world. The boy who had always run to you for comfort after being humiliated by Aegon time and time again.

Aemond continued to sob. His tears made the thin fabric of your nightdress stick to your skin, and the cold wetness sent a chill down your spine. You gasp as you feel him pull you down, sitting you on his lap. He held you close, burying his face into the curve of your neck. Your hands rested against the warm, bare skin of his back as you held him. He must have been preparing for bed not long before you arrived as he was only dressed in a pair of black lambswool breeches.

“You are not alone,” you reassure him, gently kissing the scar that marred his brow. “I am here, as I always have been.”

There is a slight chill in the air, but the heat radiating from his skin keeps you warm. Aemond sniffles but says nothing. You can feel his tears sliding down your neck. You move a hand up to his head, toying with his hair. He nuzzles his nose into your neck, seemingly inhaling your scent. Aemond shifts in his seat, spreading his legs a little wider, making the position more comfortable for you. A quiet gasp escapes your throat as you feel the taut muscle of his thigh pressing into the most intimate part of your body.

The feeling sends a rush of heat through your veins. Your breath quickens as you try to push the sensation aside. Your face burns as shame begins to overwhelm you. He just wanted to be close to you, searching for comfort in your arms as he had done many times before. But your body is turning it into something perverse.

Aemond bounced his knee ever so slightly, almost like a tremble. You squirmed, trying to press your thighs closer together in hopes of stopping the heat growing in your stomach. One of Aemond’s large hands rests firmly against the small of your back. The other moves to grip the outside of your thigh.

“Aemond,” you gasp as you feel his lips grazing against our collarbones.

“What?” He asks, his voice so nonchalant.

“I think I should go,” you replied, trying to stand up.

But his hands hold onto you tight, refusing to let you go. 

“Please stay,” he begged, burying his face into the curve of your neck once more.

“Alright,” you whisper, trying to calm him.

His hair tickles your nose. You lift your head a bit, resting your chin on the top of his head. You trail the tips of your fingers against the muscles of his back. Aemond nuzzles his face against your neck. He bounces his knee a bit harder. You wonder if he is doing this on purpose.

“Aemond, stop it,” you mumble, trying to ignore the fire sparking in the pit of your stomach.

“Stop what?” He asked, ghosting his lips over your jaw. 

“You know what,” you whine.

He ignores you; his lips press soft kisses against your jaw. Aemond bunches the skirt of your dress into the hand that grips your thigh. He steadily inches it up higher. The cold air touching your now bare legs makes the hair on your body stand up. Suddenly coming to your senses, you gasp, slapping a hand over his as the skirt of your dress reaches just above your knees. He tries to continue, but you use all the strength you can muster to keep his hand still. 

“We must stop,” you command, trying to stop yourself from giving in to him completely.

This was wrong. You were both betrothed to other people—him to some Baratheon girl and you to the Lord of the Arbor. They were political matches, as most marriages are. You held no love for Lord Redwyne, but you would do your duty as was expected of you.

Aemond easily pushed past your hand, slipping his hand between your thighs. You gasped, trying to squeeze them together to keep him at bay. Your stomach flutters as his thumb rubs across the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. Your fingernails dig into his forearm. You pull back, and he lifts his head to look you in the eyes. 

He removes his hand from between your thighs, moving it up to your face. You find yourself melting into the warmth of his palm. The pad of his thumb ghosts over your lips, but his eye never leaves yours.

“You were supposed to be mine,”   he says in the gentlest tone.

“Aemond,” you whine, trying to push him away.

But he refuses to let you go. The hand on your back kept you from standing. His fingertips trail down the side of your neck down to the neckline of your nightdress. His touch on your skin leaves you feeling almost delirious. The fire in your stomach is fully ablaze now. You squirm in his lap as his fingers graze over the tops of your breasts. You cursed yourself for this, as the feeling of his tense muscles sends waves of heat straight to your cunt. The hairs on the back of your neck raise. Your eyes close, and you bite your lip to stop crying out. 

“Look at me.”  

It is a command that you are unable to ignore. Aemond is the prince regent. In this moment, he speaks with the king’s voice. His absolute authority leaves you fearful and painfully aroused. Once again, your eyes meet his. He says nothing, simply watching you like a predator stalking its prey as his hand moves over your nightdress, cupping your breast. You gasp, slapping a hand over his. You know you should push him away, but you don’t. 

A chill runs down your spine. Under his gaze, you feel completely exposed, almost powerless—a feeling you usually dislike greatly. You were a princess of the realm and a dragon rider. You were anything but helpless. Yet you find yourself wanting nothing more than to surrender yourself to him, to escape from your worries and sorrows, to be free from all the tiring expectations that have been placed upon you since your birth.

“Am I so hard to love?” 

His voice trembled, as he struggled to hold back tears. The authority is gone, replaced with something much more vulnerable. The sight broke your heart in two. You had always worried about Aemond, your sweet, sensitive little brother. Since he had come of age, he had changed. He was colder and more distant, not just from you but from everyone, even your mother, whom you know he cared for greatly. It was like he believed he had to be this... pillar of strength, or all would crumble.

You remove your hand from his, moving it up to cup the scarred side of his face. You lean down, pressing a gentle kiss on his brow. You have done this so many times over the years, yet it has never felt as intimate as it did now. Aemond closed his eye, leaning into your touch. A sharp pain stabs at your heart as you watch how desperate he is for your comfort.

The hand on your breast slid back down to your thigh. Aemond’s fingers toyed with the hem of your skirt. Your thumb traced down the deep scar that marked his cheek. You lean down, peppering kisses from his cheek to his jaw, where the scar stops. He turns his head slightly, so that your lips hover above his, almost touching. You rest your head against his. His violet eye stared into your own.

“What of Floris? She is to be your wife.” You say, hoping he may come to his senses, as yours have fled from you completely.

“You will be my wife... for tonight.” A single tear drops from his eye as the words leave his lips.

It is such a beautiful, harrowing sight. One that leads you to shedding tears of your own. Aemond’s hands grip you by the waist, hoisting you up just enough for you to straddle him. Your knees rest on both sides of his legs, trapping him between your thighs. A wave of heat runs through your veins as your bare cunt presses against his clothed bulge. He leans forward, capturing your gasp with his mouth. One of your hands cups his face while the other pushes his hair away from his face. 

The two of you shared passionate, frantic kisses. You had not been prepared from when Aemond’s tongue slid into your mouth. You whine, caught off guard, but do your best to follow along with him. You had no experience with such things. The only kisses you had ever experienced came from tall, handsome knights in your dreams. But even then, those kisses were nothing like this. They were short and sweet. A quick peck on the cheek or lips, but this was much different. Aemond kissed you with such urgency, such deep burning desire.

Aemond lifts his hips, pressing himself against you. The feeling of his hard cock pressing against your aching cunt makes you cry out, though your noises are muffled against his lips. The feeling is so foreign, yet exciting, that you can’t stop yourself from reaching down to palm him through his trousers. His hardened cock is thick and throbbing beneath your touch. A newfound confidence blooms in your chest.

A sound rumbled in his chest; his large hands gripped your ample hips. Your hands moved to grip his shoulders as you rocked yourself back and forth, your bare cunt grinding against his clothed bulge. He hissed, knitting his brows together. You watch as his face contorts into one of pleasure. Your own burning desire is growing too much. Your desperate, heavy breaths fill the air as you grind yourself against him even faster, desperate to reach your peak. He looked up at you; his mouth hung open slightly as he watched you use him for your own selfish gratification.

It’s exhilarating- him watching you- seeing you in a way no other ever has, touching you in a way no other ever has.

“You’re doing so good,” he praises.

His praise sends another wave of pleasure coursing through your veins. The room suddenly feels unbearably hot. You’re so close; you can feel it. The pressure building up in your stomach is eager to be released. You roll your hips even faster, harder. But it is not enough. The throbbing in your cunt is almost painful. You are nearly sobbing at this point.

“I want more,” you whine. “I need more. Please, brother.”

“I am at your mercy, sister,” he smirks. “Take what you want.”

You reach down, huffing as you struggle to untie the laces of his trousers. You can feel his chest vibrate against you as he chuckles.

“Don’t laugh at me,” you grumble.

“My apologizes-” he shudders as your hand wraps around his thick cock. Finally freeing him from the confines of his trousers.

A triumphant smile crosses your face. You give his cock a few strokes, admiring the way it stands so prettily for you, so thick and full. Suddenly, you begin to fear the thought of having to fit it inside of you. Aemond seems to sense your worry. His hand cups the back of your neck, making you look at him.

“Take it slow,” he warns.

You nod, lifting yourself on your knees a bit. Your wetness coats your fingers and his cock as you press the tip into your aching cunt. You whine as the head breaches your walls, and you clamp tightly around him. The stretch is a bit uncomfortable but not painful. You may be a maiden, but you still had desires. Many nights, you have had to satiate your hunger with your fingers.

You lower yourself on him slowly. Thankfully, your wetness makes it easier to take him. You take a deep breath as you take him to the hilt. It takes you a moment to adjust to his size. 

“Are you okay?” Aemond asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.

“Yes, I just ... need a moment,” you breathlessly laugh as he lifts a hand to trail his fingers against your jaw.

He nods, raising his chin to kiss gently against the corner of your mouth. You turn your head, pressing your lips to his. A soft tongue gently licks at the swell of your bottom lip, and you grant him entry. The gentleness comes to an end. He licks into you with a fervor that steals your breath away. Your thoughts fade, and you melt into his arms. 

Aemond kisses you like he wants to devour you, and you want nothing more. You lift your hips before lowering yourself. Aemond finally breaks the kiss, and his hands move to your waist.

“Ah-h,” he whines against the corner of your lips.

You begin to move slowly, easing yourself into up and down on his cock. Your eyes never leave him, watching as he presses his head to the back of the chair. His chest moves with his deep breaths, his eye is closed, and his mouth is partially open. He shudders, and a desperate, eager moan emits from his throat. It is a sight to behold.

He lifts his hips, pressing deeper into you, making you cry out.

“Aemond!” You whimper, fingernails digging into his shoulder blades.

His eye fluttered open as he watched you struggle to find the right pace. He gripped your waist tighter, his fingers digging into your fleshy sides. He guided you, raising you up and down on him. The newfound pace made you mewl pathetically, but you were too desperate to reach your peak to care. He called out your name. It sounded almost sinful coming from his lips. 

You drop your head, resting it against his. Your mouth hangs open as you gasp and moan. The faint scent of pine and smoke fills your nose. It’s him, his scent. The smell is almost intoxicating. Your mind is swimming, dizzy from the pleasure of him bucking up into you.

You feel one of his palms cup the back of your neck, pulling you closer. He lifts his chin, closing the small distance between you pressing his lips to yours. You try your best to follow the frantic rhythm he sets. He swallows every sound you make as he holds the back of your neck, refusing to let you pull away—not that you want to. 

Aemond plants his feet on the ground for leverage as he pumps into you. His thrusts are more erratic now as he approaches his end. The air in your lungs is incinerated, and a shameful, high-pitched moan escapes from your lips. You move your hips, rocking against him, dangerously close to finally reaching your peak. 

He doesn’t stop, bucking into you with a force that would be strong enough to toss you off of him if not for the hand holding onto your waist. Your hot cunt clenched around him, the muscles in your legs burned from remaining in this position for so long. 

It’s not fair- how good he is at this- how good he is making you feel. It’s all too much. Your poor wet cunt is overwhelmed with pleasure. The hand on your neck moves down, and the pad of his thumb rubs circles around that sensitive button between your legs. 

“That's it,” he coaxed, his hot breath fans on your mouth. “Let go, give it to me.”

You don’t stand a chance. Not when his cock makes you feel so full, reaching that one spot that makes you throw your head back. One of your hands tangles in his hair, tugging. Your chests’ are flushed against each other as you both rock against each other. You clench around his cock as you finally reach your release, hard and blinding. The world around you seems to disappear. It’s only you and him who matter.

“Ha-ah ... ah,” he sputtered, becoming more desperate.

You cry out as you fill his hot mouth, which latches into one of your breasts. He suckles at your breast like a starving babe. His tongue lashes back and forth around your hardened nipple. The sensation is strange but has you clenching around him even tighter. 

His teeth graze against your nipple. Every grunt and moan that leaves him vibrates against your breast. You can feel his thrusts becoming sloppy and uncoordinated. His cock pulses inside of you, it feels too good. Aemond releases your nipple, resting his forehead on your breast. Choked gasps and grunts slip past his lips as he reaches his peak, releasing inside of you, filling you with his seed.

The two of you stay pressed against each other as you come down for your highs. Aemond’s hips relax, his body melting into the chair. Your body sinks into him, boneless and spent. You lay your head on his shoulder, resting your chin on his collarbone. His fingertips trail over the curve of your back. Your eyes feel heavy as you struggle to keep them open.

“I am sorry for what I’ve done,” he apologized.

“I know,” you reply weakly.

You can feel his warm breath against your ear. His scent, mixed with his sweat, fills your nose, bringing you comfort.

“Our sister has too much of our mother in her. I see that now.”

You frown but say nothing, letting him continue. His lips press against your ear. He nudges your face with his shoulder, making you pull away. He grasps your chin between his thumb and index fingers. Your eyes flicker between the sapphire and his violet iris. You lift a hand to trail your fingers along his sharp jaw.

“But you and I,” he says, rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip. “We are two flames kindled from the same fire. We were always meant to burn as one.”

“Aemond,” you sigh.

“I am afraid,” he admits, rendering you speechless. “I cannot fight this war alone, sister.”

“You are not alone,” you argued. “You have Daeron.”

“Tsk,” he turns his head. “He is still young, as is his dragon.”

“Young or not, Tessarion is still a dragon.”

Aemond says nothing. His eye stared at the plain stone wall of his bedchamber. You watch him silently, trying to read him.

“Come with me,” he asked, turning his head back to you. 

“What?��� You gasp.

“Mount your dragon and go with me to Harrenhal.”

“Mother would never allow it,” you shake your head.

“Our mother has made it clear that she does not hold our best interest at heart.”

“She means well,” you protested, trying to defend your mother, no matter how true his words seemed.

“If we do not fight, we will die. Rhaenyra may spare you and Helaena, but she will not be so merciful to the rest of us. She will have to take Aegon’s head, mine, and Daerons's as well. So long as our father has a living son, she will never be able to rule in peace.”

“You don’t know that-”

“I do,” he insisted. “Is that not what our mother has told us our entire lives?”

You blink, and memories of your childhood flood your mind. He was right. Over the years, your mother had repeatedly stressed the dangers that would follow should your sister ascend to the throne.

“Come with me,” he whispered.

Your eyes flickered from his trembling lips to his tear-filled eye. It was not an order but a plea. He was afraid and desperate for aid. You were afraid as well—you had been since Ser Criston placed that crown upon Aegon’s head. It has only been a few weeks, and already, your life has been turned completely upside down. 

You had no desire to fight this war. Many times, you have had to stop yourself from climbing on your dragon and leaving. But you could not abandon your family, just as you could not abandon Aemond now.

You nod your head. He smiled, a look of relief crossing his face. One of his hands finds yours, lacing your fingers together before bringing his lips to yours, giving you one last sweet and adoring kiss. Once he pulls away, you lay your head back down on his shoulder.

“Can I go to sleep now?” You mumble against his skin.

“Yes,” he lets out a breathy laugh. “You can sleep now.”

[hazelfoureyes]

Alastor in Rut (one shot)

Rutting Alastor x Fem Rabbit Reader

Less than confident and lacking much in the way of assertiveness, you find hell to be scary. But, a very kind and helpful deer demon has a solution! Just in time, as an unexpected rut hits him and he feels the need to reel you in.

this is pure self indulgence. Shout out to @jazzmasternot , @lustylita , @sugoi-writes , and @minkdelovely for keeping me sane and horny (with art lol)

「Warnings/Promises: actual warning - mentions of accidental vehicular homicide and reader's death, Marathon Smut, p in v, finger almost in a?, anal is considered, knotting because fuck it, attempt at breeding, womb flooded, not dubcon but everyone in the hotel thinks it is, slightly repetitive fucking because he wont waste semen on other holes, Alastor would fuck anyone but you’re the most amusing, Alastor doesn’t think he’s the good guy which is honestly kinda cute, deadass talk about making you carry his fawns?? Why is it so hot?? Knock me up deer man bleat bleat bitch, implied previous relationship with a human man, plans to cuckold your ex, heat, blue fire isn’t hot, you’re tricked into a deal with Alastor, kinda size kink, demon Alastor, minor aftercare, a little sexual choking (as a treat)」

Hey--- we're all here for something. This is 10000 words, 5300 or so is smut. Smut starts at the bright green divider for you impatient and horny deeries.

MINORS YOU KNOW THE DRILL DNI

The line for reception was long, but that was to be expected. After the extermination ended early and Adam killed on television by a maid, the Hazbin Hotel had been busy. Or so you overheard others saying. You’d only been in hell a day, lucky enough to catch the advertisements and hear the gossip for the hotel soon after your descent.

You recognized the princess immediately, but not that tall man beside her. He wasn’t doing anything, just staring and smiling. Was he friendly? Were there friendly people in hell? Truly friendly. Not high school girl friendly. Or hungry witch friendly. He had witch vibes.

“Hiya welcome to the”, she took a deep breath in, “Hazbin Hotel! I am Charlie! This is Alastor! What did you do to bring you to hell? Gotta know so we can cater your redemption activities to your sins!”

She was staring at you so happily, pen over paper. Your eyes nervously shot to the man, who leaned down in response.

“I fell asleep driving and killed someone, and myself.”

Everything about Charlie was frozen still except the sudden glossiness forming over her eyes. “You… you… were you like, a thief or… did you…… push old ladies into traffic?”

You shook your head no.

“Gluttonous? She asked.

“No, I wasn’t a fan of overindulgence.”

“Prideful, then?” 

“Unfortunately… I don’t think too highly of myself. Living or dead.” Your hand came to your down turned rabbit ears, sad and limp. Even in death you weren’t the right kind of anything.

“Uhh,” Charlie clicked her pen furiously again and again, “Lustful?”

“Just the one partner. My highschool sweetheart.”

A sweat was forming on Charlie’s brow, “Sloth?”

“I did fall asleep behind the wheel… but it was from working 25 hours of overtime this week.”

Charlie put the pen down, “I don’t think you belong in hell. You made an accident. That’s not how sins should work…”

Your eyes bore holes into the desk, avoiding eye contact, “I don’t think heaven cares much about that.”

“Poor thing. Let’s circle back, Charlie.” Alastor’s large hand rested on your head, patting twice. 

She nodded, “Good call. I’ll just,” her tongue stuck out as she began to write, “make a new category just for you! Other.”

Yeah that made sense, you thought. That was fitting. This truly was hell. Finally you stood out, as the one who didn’t fit in. You supposed that’s what a wallflower deserved for murder. 

“Follow me little one.”  The tall Alastor instructed you as he snatched a key from the hook and walked past you.

Happily. Small tail uncontrollably swishing as you followed a foot behind him.

A hum of approval, Alastor noticing the distance you kept.

“You obey instructions well.”

You always did. “Thank you.” Tiny and soft, your response made his shadow shift and smile.

It wasn’t a compliment, but the fact you took it as one interested him. Subservient. 

Fun. 

“I take it that you really were a good girl in life, weren’t you?” He swiveled on his heels to face you, the sudden change causing your face to run into his lower chest.

A song of apologies fell from your mouth as you backed up, tripping over your own pathetic attempts at platitude and falling back onto your ass.

He was tall before but now he towered over your, hand outstretched to help you up. You offered a thank you before taking it.

Clawed fingers tightened around your palm. Not letting you pull away. “You’re new to hell, right?”

A glance around, no one else in the hallway, “Is it obvious?”

“Yes. But also, you mentioned work this week.”

A nod, “It’s been maybe a day.”

Delicious.

“Could I offer you some advice?” He leaned down, hand tightening further. Wide eyed and a little frightened with the change in atmosphere, you just nodded again. “It’s very dangerous out there for little prey animals like yourself.”

“Aren’t you also a prey animal?”

His hand uncurled.

A moment of tension, Alastor leaning down further.

A strange sound was coming from his microphone, the best approximation you had was a car radio going haywire skipping through the channels.

“Room 243!” His body popped up and he held the key out for you. The hallway lights seemed to be glowing brighter now.

You grabbed the key, “Thank you!”

Two fourty three was just past him. A small tremble kept you from getting the key in on your first and even second try. 

You didn’t even stop to turn on the light, just pushing the door closed behind you as soon as your body was through the threshold.

The relief barely left with a sigh when you heard it, “You know…”

Frozen, your eyes adjusted to the darkness enough to see the shining of his red and pink eyes in front of you.

“I’m somewhat of a deal maker. For a small price, I could help you. Perhaps, you’d like a change of appearance?” His voice seemed to be coming from the walls, above and beside you all at once.

Something lifted a floppy ear. But his eyes were too far from you for it to have been his own hands. A small scream as you smacked at the appendage.

“What do you say? I can use a little magic to make you happier with your new form.” A dark whisper into your right ear. 

Your hands flew to your head before you dropped to your knees to escape the hidden things touching you. 

“What do you want?” To your left now. “Let’s make a trade. A deal.” Above your head. 

His eyes were gone. Just darkness and a soft laugh echoing around you.

Your mind was reeling through possible answers, what did you want? At that moment? In general? 

An answer tumbled out, too quietly.

“Hmm?” His eyes reappeared closer to you and glowing a bloody red. “Speak up, my ears are quite a bit higher than your mouth.”

A second attempt, “Safety. I wanna be safe.” The laughter got louder, mocking you without words.

“A little tougher of an ask.” The sound of something slithering near your feet made you pull your knees tighter to your chest. “But! I’m here to please. In exchange for protection from the more nefarious of hell’s citizens I’ll need something worth my while.”

Of course, that is how deals work, right? A promise with compensation. 

“I don’t have any money, or possessions yet. Maybe I should try again later?” You were lost in the light of his stare and found the darkness deepening around him.

A considered hum, “Well, you’re already dead. You’ve no need for your soul. Damned as it is, give it to me instead. To keep safe. And I’ll always answer your calls for rescue when in harm's way.”

Why would…what use was a soul, you wondered. Was he right? But if he wanted it, surely it had value. You were too new to this world, scared to say yes and part with what little you had. 

At the risk of angering the demon in the darkness of your room, you whispered to yourself and hoped he would hear it, “I think I shouldn’t.”

Hissing in your ear, “Disappointing.”

The lights flickered on, an empty room. A bed. A nightstand. A closet. A bathroom. No tall smiling dealmaker.

A tremor stayed in your hands through the night. 

To your surprise, when you ran into Alastor the next day he was more than kind. He was eavesdropping when you asked Charlie if the hotel needed any staff. Not only did you want to be of use, you were hoping to earn some money. He quickly slid beside Charlie suggesting things you could do. 

Wow, you thought. He didn’t hold a grudge at all. Maybe he had been trying to help before? 

It took a few weeks, but you found a groove. You were a floater between the staff, helping Husk with the restocking of his bar, following behind Niffty with supplies her tiny arms couldn’t carry, and keeping notes for the activities Charlie held. It was vital for you to feel needed and everyone seemed happy to have you around. Hell wasn’t so bad.

“Dear,” Alastor found you holding a basket of towels in the hallway on a rather standard weekday, “I need an errand runner. Do you mind?”

You had been finding Alastor’s presence enjoyable, a little secret you held. He was always smiling, which made you smile in turn. And his manners, well, perfect. You couldn’t understand why such a sweet man was in hell, but then you considered you were also in hell. Mistakes happen, perhaps he was also damned by technicalities. 

Not that you would ask him, you barely spoke a word to the deer demon. Every time he was around you your throat would close up. Oftentimes you would pull your hands behind your back to shield the wiggle of your too-honest tail. 

When he would speak to you, you would get so focused on the sound of his voice and watching his mouth move you’d actually not hear a damn thing he said. You must have looked like an absolute airhead, always replying, “What?” every time he finished a statement. 

“Hellooo, anyone home in there?” He knocked gently on your skull. Ah, those big hands again. He watched the pink bloom across your cheeks, your hands coming to your ears to pull them down as your mind wandered off.  A snap of his fingers finally brought you back.

“Sorry, what?” Your eyes were bright as you finally made the journey all the way up to his face.

“Welcome back. I need some stuff picked up from a shop downtown. I can’t leave right now, mind hopping over for me?” The grin he offered you made you melt.

“Of course!” That damn tail shaking behind you, “What am I picking up?”

He waved his hand, “Not important, it’ll be all wrapped up and waiting.” The radio effect of his voice grew, “I’ll write down the address.”

Terrible handwriting. You could barely read it, but didn’t want to insult him so you just nodded as he followed you to the doors. Pausing, you realized it was your first time leaving the hotel alone. 

“What’s wrong? Not up to it?”

You shook your head, “No! I can do it. Thank you.”

A pounding in your chest made you question if you were actually dead. But despite your concerns, no one bothered you beyond some catcalling and intense glares. Staring at the paper, you struggled to decipher the address. Was that a 7 or a 1? A 4 or a 9…? You were in the general area, the street name lined up and the first couple numbers of the address too.

You brought the paper closer to your face, maybe if you really inspected it you could figure it out. 

A shriek, dropping the paper to felt a small goblin-like creature pushing at your knees. Another, then another, began to appear from the shadows of the street. Black and white little creatures pushing and pulling at your legs until you tumbled over.

“Help!” You thought it was a shout, but it came out as a soft spoken request, the tone itself adding a ‘please’ to the end. 

They weren’t hurting you, just knocking you over every time you tried to stand up like grade school bullies. You managed, the creatures relenting momentarily before a stockier one materialized. A step back, what did they want? Money? You pulled out your wallet and opened it but the large one smacked it to the ground. 

That quick heart skipped a beat when your back hit against something solid. As your head bent backwards, you could see those red and pink eyes looming over you. 

“Oh dear. Trouble already?” 

You could cry. You did cry, a little, at the sight of a familiar face. With a flourish of his hands, those previously unseen tendrils whipped from his back and flung the aimless attackers away. 

Rescue! You hugged his waist, a chorus of ‘thank yous’ and ‘Oh, Alastor!’ into his chest. 

“Now now, can’t even be a proper task rabbit. You really do need some safeguarding.” He peeled you off him, brushing his coat off. Your mind thought back to the offer. “And I don’t see my purchase… didn’t complete the task either?”

You shrunk, you’d entirely failed him. His smirk was one sided, eyes half lidded and expression dramatically disappointed. Alastor sighed and turned to walk away from you. You’d let him down. He’d been nothing but accommodating and gentle.

“I’m sorry! Alastor!” You grabbed his wrist, eyes shut so you didn’t see the green glow of arcane symbols floating up around him. “Can I please have that deal? Please. I’m sorry, you have my soul as payment.”

Painless, selling your soul. With a handshake, a little light show, and a whirling of magic, you had done it.

“Excellent choice!” Alastor patted your head, “I’ll come to your aid when you’re scared for your life! Aaaand in return, your soul is mine. Easy peasy, yes?”

Fine, not an issue in the slightest. “Do I need to do anything?”

“About what?” His eyes wandered to inspect his fingernails.

“My soul.”

A barking laugh, “No. You’re tied to me now, dear. As for my end, just call my name when you’re in danger and I’ll,” a flourish of his talons, “rescue you.” His smile strained as he peered down at your little face, “Why are you crying?”

“I’m so happy to have the help, thank you Alastor! You really are just, amazing. Your mother raised you right.” Your hands were holding your cheeks, grateful and feeling a little less alone.

The mention of his mother made his back straighten, a bloom in his chest he knew all too well to be pride. Finally, someone was vocalizing his better qualities. Well, other than Charlie. But impressing Charlie was like making a dog think you’d thrown a ball. Just a little quick whirl of your hands and a couple sweet words with a smile and she’d be all wagging tail as she ran to retrieve nothing. 

But he supposed you were very much like Charlie, easily tricked and distracted. Had you really not noticed those goons were his? Or that the address wasn’t real? Were you stupid or naive? His head fell to the side unnaturally as he watched you talk. He wasn’t listening, though. He took in your features, slight but average. His hand came out absentmindedly and felt at one of your long and limp ears. He didn’t see you blush or caught how you stiffened. 

Naive. Terribly naive.

Perfectly usable. 

He dropped your ear and turned to leave. “I won’t rescue you twice in one day. Best to follow me home if you value your life.”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

You hadn’t told anyone about the deal, a secret for yourself to keep. Partly because you were embarrassed you needed the help, and partly because you had been warned extensively to not make a deal with the deer demon. Everyone had such a peculiar idea of Alastor, it seemed to you. Even after making a deal, he was still…Alastor. Always offering a joke, or playing something jaunty in the shared spaces. You could vent and whine and Alastor would hum as he read. Always offering a gentle pat to the head when you were sad or did something he liked. 

So when Alastor suddenly left the group in a sweat, hands shaking and body rocking slightly side to side, you were quick to follow behind him. He bumped off the walls a couple of times before making it to his room and falling forward past the threshold. 

You waited for the door to close before running down the hall and knocking. 

“Are you alright?” You pressed your cheek against the wood and listened for any reply. 

Alastor was still on the floor when you knocked, which worked out well. He leaned against the door, ears flat with his condition. He took a deep breath, voice dropping an octave and carrying easily to you, “Just— an out of season rut. Unexpected and unwelcome. Without any does nearby it’s quite odd.”

“Oh, are deer not like rabbits? Rabbit does are always in estrus! Mating actually triggers their ovulation. Neat, huh?” Silence, Alastor’s ears turned forward focusing on every other word.

Does, always, oestrus

Mating, triggers, ovulation 

“I had pet rabbits when I was little. Isn’t that funny though? That they’re also called does.” You worried he thought you were weirdly interested in rabbit sex. “We had them as pets. So….,” a silence you misinterpreted as awkward.

Alastor tapped a long claw on the door before dragging it down the wood. A line was etched behind, “Is that so?”

You knelt down to get comfortable, “How long will it last?”

“Ah, hard to say. I've only suffered through a few. Alone, perhaps a week.”

“That sounds terrible.”

“With an appropriate partner, a deer demon would rut for two days. One for mating with his doe, one for guarding his doe from rivals who could still interfere with conception.”

His doe. You both found your throat running dry at the words. 

You nodded, “Oh wow, I guess that’s why you always see bucks locked together in fights.”

“Precisely.”

“But...can sinners actually conceive?” You gulped, the idea was a little naughty to you. The entire conversation was actually making you uncomfortable. The kind of discomfort that made your breath pick up. The kind of discomfort that shifted to hunger with just a few words or a well placed look.

“No, but that doesn’t matter. Once fully in the hold of a rut or heat, demons aren’t motivated by logic.”

You nodded again, forgetting he couldn’t see you. “Oh okay…” the idea of Alastor rutting into his own hand desperate to fill a womb made your knees come together. “Must be hard for you. As an asexual.”

A hum, confusion breaking his creeping fog for a second, “A sexual what?”

“Nevermind.” You shook your head, shaking off the topic with the motion.

Alastor could smell your arousal wafting under the door. A feverish chill ran through him, drawing the fog back into the recesses of his mind.

“Well… I’ll let you rest. I know you can’t call me, so I’ll stop by to see if you need anything.”

His mouth opened to correct you— he could call you in a sense, and he didn’t need help as he had minions he could summon with a snap. 

“That sounds lovely, what a helpful thing you are.” The words came out strained, his jaw tensing. How much longer could he hold out? The thinnest lie held in place that he’d suffer alone through the week. Already compromised by his errant shadow, flat against the carpet beneath your thighs. 

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Within hours Alastor was lying on the floor with his limbs splayed out. The sweating was the worst, not the heat. He could feel ticklish drops dripping down his stomach. His hair was sticking to his face, adding to the mounting overstimulation. Wet, hot, clothes clinging to his body like a second skin. A clawed hand pulled off his bow tie. His fingers shook too much to handle the tiny buttons of his shirt so he gave up and ripped it open. 

It fell into a pile with the bow tie and soon his pants and socks joined. Sitting up on his elbows he looked down at his underwear, he wasn’t hard yet but he knew the smallest touch could trigger what could be days of painfully swollen erections.

He fell back to the floor with a huff, hands raking through his hair and gripping his ears a little rougher than he’d meant to. A gasp, red tipped talons feeling down his ears and slipping around his already growing antlers.

Alastor’s eyes rolled back, strong hands squeezing his prongs, tugging them forward as he imagined anyone riding him. Using his appendages as a handle while he bucked up into them. His hips were already moving, lower back rising off the carpet as he rolled his body up into the imaginary mate he despised his desperation for. His mind flicked through faces. Husk’s pained but satisfied expression, Vox’s tears as he whined, Carmilla’s lusty eyes paired with surrendered sighs. He lingered briefly on Angel’s smirk as his hands roamed down his chest and his thighs in tandem. 

But through the darkness of his imagination he saw two watery and timid orbs, tears welling as eyebrows rose in confusion. Pleasure making the features soften. Soft. Soft velvet ears he could tug on in turn, a little bushy tail he could grip. 

A doe. 

The only doe he knew of in the hotel. 

The radio on the writing desk flipped through channels, piecing together the sounds to form the words he was trying to forget, a magazine ransom note cut from sound bites.

....out the windows

 ....always and forever, 

....in yesterday. 

....rusty cage 

May you never....

Hating how I....

....pull the trigger

....say you love me?

....congratulations 

The relevant sounds spiked in volume, mocking him. 

He walked to the radio and hurled it across the room. Aggression. Already he was losing himself to hellish biology. 

A minor part of him didn’t want to use you. You always looked at him with such adoration, which he’d come to look forward to when others weren’t giving him adequate attention. You also seemed to genuinely see him as a friend, as much as he didn’t directly feed that idea.

But using people was how the world worked. Everyone was using someone. You had said how much you wanted to help… Alastor leaned on the desk with both hands and watched the sweat fall onto the wood and leather writing surface.

How was his body leaking from every pore but his mouth was so dry?

His shadow reached for the thrown radio, the light flickering on. That dark doppelgänger using a song to offer another piece of torment for him, ‘you ain't never caught a rabbit and you ain't no friend of mine.’

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

You had been speaking to Husk about what you could do to help prepare the bar for the weekend when a green light began to form around your neck. 

“Did you— Did you make a deal with him?!” Husk dropped the dish rag, hands shooting to your shoulders, “Hold on! I’ll— fucking hell. Fuck!”

“Wait what’s wro-,” you were standing inside an unfamiliar room, just at the door, before you could figure out why Husk was panicking. Looking up, you locked eyes with Alastor. The room was dark, curtains drawn shut and ceiling lights off. A slight glow from a roaring blue fire to your left. His eyes were those familiar glowing red orbs in the darkness of his large canopy bed. “Oh, Alastor.” You finally noticed the third light source. A neon green large linked chain was wrapped around his fist. Following the squared interlocking pieces down the length of the bed, across the carpet and up as you looked down to find it ending on you.

Your hands touched your neck, feeling the cold metal of your collar. 

Alastor took a deep breath in, a shaky exhale following.

Oh. You’d heard from Angel how his deal with his boss often materialized as a series of smoke rings linked and attached to him. 

Before you could question it any further you were sliding across the floor, hands and feet struggling to find purchase as he reeled you toward the bed. Alastor lifted you by the glowing chain around your neck, evidence of the deal you so easily accepted.

“Can a deer breed a rabbit?” He mused, breath ragged as he struggled to remain in control of his impulses, “Doubtful. But I’ll give it my sincerest efforts, regardless.”

“Alastor-! You don’t want to do this, it’s just your rut.” You pulled back, legs kicking and piling up the blankets. It was fruitless. 

He laughed, incorporeal radio studio audience joining along. You couldn’t stop from glancing at the straining fabric of his black boxers. Setting a small hand on his chest to better attempt to push away you gasped, “You’re burning up!” The fear of the moment left you entirely, replaced with deep concern. 

He gripped your wrist with his free hand, not letting go of the chain in his right, “The fever is unbearable. My mind is slipping away.”

“Is this normal?!” Your hands came to his cheeks, his forehead, his neck. You remembered how your grandmother always checked your temperature, and pressed your lips to his sweat slicked brow. “You poor thing…”

When you pulled back you were met with the bright and blown out pupils of Alastor’s gaze. He was staring at your mouth, the green of his magical connection to you reflecting off his glossy eyes.

“Poor me.” He’d been sitting with loosely crossed legs but got on his knees. His face rose until he was looking down at you, hand now holding your chin, “You promised to help me.”

Your eyes were looking everywhere but his face. 

His hand on you tightened, cheeks squished together as he pulled your head up, “Are you a liar?” Of course not. His hand made your head shake left to right.

The trembling of your hands was obvious to you both. A cruel laugh, “Do I scare you, little bunny rabbit?”

In life you weren’t popular. No one hated you, but, well, you never had much luck attracting the men all the women seemed to want. No one of power or consequence ever paid you any mind.

Alastor was scary. But were you scared? Someone strong wanted you. Someone people feared was saying you were good enough for them.

Tears welled in your eyes as you felt your tail wiggling side to side. Your body always betrayed you. Your own death had been the doing of your body’s inability to listen to you. 

He couldn’t see the tail but the way your face screwed up in shame tipped him off. Letting go of your face, super heated finger pads slipped down your back. He slotted your tail between two fingers. There was no reason for it to be such an intimate action, but your entire body trembled.

Another deep sigh from Alastor, closing his fingers around the base and pulling gently. A test. Your head dropped to hide your reaction.

“Ah ah, eyes on me.”

He hummed happily as you did as you were told.

But the moment was cut short, you jumping when a rough knock came to the door.

“Alastor!” Vaggie was turning the knob despite knowing it was locked, “Is she in there? Open the fucking door.” A kick, a threat, “Now.”

“I’ll need your answer.” He leaned back onto the pillows piled behind him. Making a point, he lifted your chain and dropped it. It dissolved into nothingness before it could hit the bed.

“I’m here!” You said barely loud enough to be heard through the wooden door. Your eyes were drawn to Alastor’s lap as he pushed down his underwear to free his deep red cock.

His hand tenderly touched his base, hissing with the contact.

“For fuck’s sake Alastor!” Vaggie yelled, “You have three seconds to open this fucking door before I rip it off the hinges.”

Alastor’s head fell back with a moan, stifled as he bit down on his lip. 

“One!”

As his fingers slid up his length and touched his leaking slit his entire body violently shook.

“Two!”

He opened his eyes just barely. You hadn’t noticed the antlers on his head were quite a few times larger than normal. 

“I’m okay!” You shouted, the loudest noise you’d made since your death, but not the loudest you’d make by the end of the day.

Silence.

Mumbling.

 Vaggie spoke up again, “Are you sure? Come out and talk to us first.”

His hand began stroking himself, precum spilling down. Something soft and fuzzy was settling over the front of your brain.

You scooted backwards off the bed, eyes staying on his lap. The light color of his inner thighs. The little bit of red and black tail you could see squished down under his ass.

“Hello!” You opened the door just enough to shove your head through. “Hi there gang.”

Husk’s arms were crossed and his foot tapping, “Are you really okay? No matter the deal he can’t fucking make you stay in there with him.”

While you weren’t sure that was actually true, it wasn’t an issue, “I wanna stay! He needs someone to watch his fever and-,”

A brief rush of cool air up your shirt before a hot mouth was pressing into the small of your back.

Vaggie’s eyes narrows, “and?”

“And! And. Yes.” Your eyes shut, “and take care of cleaning up after him.”

They shared a glance, “He can just make his little creatures do it.”

A surprisingly long tongue ran up your spine.

“Oh my god.”

“What?”

“Oh my god! No! I couldn’t let my friend,” you sucked your bottom lip in as his hands wrapped around your waist and undid the button of your pants, “rely on strangers.”

Husk sighed, “Alright, just… like, call us or something? If you need anything.”

You began to nod but the door was shut and locked by Alastor before you could reply.

₊✧˚﹕︶︶︶﹕૮₍ ⸝⸝´ ꒳ `⸝⸝ ₎ა﹕︶︶︶﹕ ˚✧₊

Your face hit the wall as you lost balance when he pulled down your pants and panties with one yank and buried his face into your crotch. His tongue licked at the wetness pooled at your entrance.

Any moans would probably still have been heard by the other two so you tried to keep quiet. Alastor didn’t seem to care though, growling into your skin.

The fever seemed it would spread skin to skin, but when he pulled away you found your body quickly cooling. Taking a moment to breath before turning back, you wondered if you’d made a great decision or a terrible one. When you turned, Alastor was settling back into his previous spot. “I could rip the rest off of you or you could undress yourself.” He wasn’t looking at you as he said it. You made quick work of removing your shirt and returning to the bed as you had before.

"Turn around."

You turned to face the door.

"On your hands and knees."

You paused briefly, but did so.

As you bent over, little tail high and trembling, Alastor’s clawed thumbs spread open your bottom lips. Perhaps it was embarrassment or just the nerves but you were twitching open and close.

You heard a low “Fuck” before the feeling of heat dripping onto you made you jerk forward. One of his hands came to your shoulder to hold you in place, the other kept your hole open as his seed continued to dribble down onto it.

He hadn’t been trying to cum, but his body was already responding to the opportunity before it; a breedable and submissive doe.  His cock trigger-happy at the sight of your pussy, inside pink and clenching.

A tiny yelp as he fell over you, joining you in an all fours position but larger body caging yours between his limbs. He laughed again when the back of your head hit him square in the chest. 

“You are uselessly small.” His body rumbled over you. “Clever girl to make a deal for protection.” 

A burning stiffness slid down your folds. You could feel from even how little contact he made he was too big. Was it a bad time to tell him you’d only had the one partner on earth? A rather boring but sufficient sex life. If Alastor was hoping for a sex kitten he’d be deeply disappointed in you.

He hummed imagining dropping his weight and feeling you fruitlessly squirm under him. 

“Mating triggers ovulation, I recall you said. I just need to fuck you into it, right sweetheart? Maybe if I do a good enough job,” his hands gripped the flesh of your ass, “your body will actually respond. Your belly will swell with the evidence of my virility.” Both hands slipped down your hips and came to nestle above your womb, tenderly caressing the protective layer of fat there, “could your little form handle it?” Little form? Not quite. But to him everyone was little. Claws leaving faint red marks as he dragged them up your ribs, around your sides and pressed your back down to get your chest into the bed and ass in the air.

A squeak, your legs flailing with what little motion they had as you turned your head, “Well that’s for actual rabbits not--.”

His hand came over your mouth, “Shhh, there's safety in the quiet. Don’t you know? We’re most vulnerable when we mate.” On the utterance of the word you’d been avoiding to even think about Alastor’s still hard cock squeezed its way into you. Your body was willing, but your pussy wasn’t ready to accommodate him. Not that your living partner had been small, but he wasn’t a seven foot tall rutting deer demon. And with height came a girth and length you’d not anticipated. You had seen it, yes, but that didn’t translate to much once Alastor was entering you.

His hips were snapping back as soon as he sank in. It frustrated him endlessly that he wasn’t trying to fuck you with such a lack of control. He couldn’t have been sure he’d have done it any differently had the circumstances been changed, but he liked to think he’d  retained some skills over the long years alone.

The way he whined made him sound like a weak man, which he was in that moment. You wanted to call out his name, do the things you were used to doing during sex, but his hand was still over your mouth.

As if he heard your thoughts, his fingers spread open over your lips. Pinky under your chin to keep his hold on you. 

“Alastor,” the tenor of your voice surprised you.

“Stick out your tongue.” He sounded far away, despite being right behind you. When you did as he instructed his hand shifted. Two long fingers went into your mouth and pressed down on your tongue. Immediately his fingers and your chin was dripping with drool. He whined again, louder, the noise growing into a growl as his speed began to pick up. 

You could feel the thin flesh at the bottom of your entrance stinging as it was failing to stretch enough for him. It would have bothered you more but the way his burningly hot cock's head was pressing into your cervix was making your eyes lose focus. 

Without ceremony, you felt a rush of heat deep in you. Your shins lifted from the bed as you squirmed, weak attempts to escape the deep press.

His hand left your mouth and you felt it working on the base of his cock that was not yet in you. He mumbled something, it sounded like an apology, before you felt him pop the rest of himself in. You choked on your scream, not knowing what he had put in you. 

It throbbed, new and stronger spurts of his seed felt against an indescribable place. 

A brave hand reached between your thighs and felt at the space between your bodies—- well, would have felt at that space. But there was none. You were flush against his lap. Your fingers slid down to feel taut balls pulled up into his body. 

He shivered as you traced between them, checking neither were …  inside you. 

“I should have warned you, but my ability to speak wasn’t—,” he waved his hand around, “available.” You tried to pull away but found you both were locked together. “A knot. Not an accurate representation of a deer… and technically useless.”

That word meant nothing to you. “Is it normal?”

His thumb pressed at the virgin tight ring of muscle just above your pussy, you instinctively jerked away but just made yourself gasp as that large knot in you threatened to further tear you if you kept it up. “I don’t normally do it so early in a mated rut.”

You surrendered, trying to relax your upper body into the bed. “How do we get it out?”

A mocking chuckle, “It’ll deflate, so to speak, in a couple minutes. It’s just keeping my little doe in place while I finish filling her up.” He patted your ass. 

It was mortifying to be suck in that position.

“Have you ever used this hole?” He rubbed some of your wetness up to your asshole. 

 Your tail lifted, “My boyfriend didn’t like anal.”

Alastor massaged around the puckered ring, “I didn’t ask if he used his.” Your head turned to look at him, shaking it ‘no’. You noticed his face looked less strained now, and that his finger didn’t feel like a fire was just under his skin. “Ah, well. I won’t need it today anyway.”

He didn’t see the bright blush that came over your face. He spoke so easily about the topic, a topic you’d never heard him speak on before. One you’d been told he had no interest in.

An error you made, assuming a lack of interest meant a lack of knowledge or experience. 

When he finally could pull himself out of you, you felt a rush of warmth down your inner thighs. Looking under you, past your chest and between your legs, you saw the thick white semen escaping from your stretched entrance. 

You’d never seen such an opaque release before. You wondered if it was a hint at his…potency. You wondered more what was happening in your body at that moment. 

“Will it come out on its own or do I need to clean it?” Finally sitting up, your fingers felt the mess still dripping out of you. 

Alastor leaned back onto his legs, ears turning in your direction as you asked, “Is this your first time? Your little boyfriend never finished in you?”

Crossing your arms, you turned to him, “Don’t be patronizing to him. And no, okay?”

He felt the heat rising from his gut again, cock twitching at every bit of the scene before him. Insolent body language, an attempt to scold him, and an admission. You watched him sit back up, a sudden reminder how much taller he was as darkened eyes looked down on you. The blue of the fire cast half of his face in shadows. “What’s this? My obedient doe wants to defend another man in my bed?” 

Your hands nervously came to the ends of your ears, “I didn’t mean it like that.” A finger twirled, telling you to turn around. You hesitated. Did he want you to leave? He didn’t want to look at you? You hadn’t—, “I’m sorry.” 

With a blink, his eyes were black.  His fingers longer as parts of him seems to stretch between the joints. He twirled them again as his smile grew wicked.

Desperate to show him you hadn’t wanted to upset him, that you wanted to stay, you turned around. The fear of not knowing what he would do next was sending waves of electricity to your lap. You realized you hadn’t touched yourself yet, not that this was the time to start. 

One by one, those freakishly long fingers curled around the small of your waist and lifted you off the bed. The tops of your feet were sliding across the dark maroon blankets beneath you both.

Your heart was pounding in your ears as he pulled you against him. He positioned you above his renewed erection, your legs opening a little in instinct. 

Grateful now to be turned around, you let your face run the full range of feelings as they washed over you. Fear, arousal, anticipation.

“What a wasteful man.” He brought you down with a painfully slow speed, head just now meeting your sticky wet hole. “He never flooded your soft cunt?” He pressed in a little easier this time, but as you sank to take him all in you felt a sting where you’d slightly torn earlier. “When he dies, I’ll be sure to find him.” Cruel. “And make him watch me breed you.” You clenched, yet another betrayal by your body. 

You were reduced to gasps as he stayed stock still and moved you on and off his cock. “Am I bigger than he is?” You could feel his breath against your back as you were lifted and brought back down again slowly. 

You nodded. A terrible liar, you didn’t even try to fib.

He stopped with his head barely in you.

A squirm.

“I’m sure I just didn’t hear you. Try again.”

“Yes.” You were full again as he got his answer. A creaking sound you didn’t recognize startled you.

“Do I fuck you better than him?”

Ah you understood. Your hands held at his fingers digging into your body. “Yes.” Another creaking sound as he quickened your rise and fall.

Alastor’s antlers were wide and multi-pronged as your affirmations jostled around behind his eyes. Your ‘yes’ somehow made you tighter, wetter, hotter around him. His hips started moving again to meet yours. Perhaps he his dick grown a little during his shift to a more demonic form, or maybe you enjoyed the line of questions. All he knew was you were squeezing him like your body didn’t want him to ever pull out again.

Blood dripped from his lips as he cut his own skin, through gritted teeth a final question, “Do you want my fawns?”

Your legs pressed together, you knew there was only one answer and yet you asked yourself. Did you want that? To carry his children? A moan cut through your thinking, “Yes!”

The fire roared, a response to his own reaction.

Alastor felt his mind slip under again, noticing the wild way his shadow was dancing around the walls before his senses all dulled except touch.

The bed drifted away from under his knees and the walls melted like spent candles. Just sounds echoing off space as your moans deepened. As if learning, you began to whisper ‘yes’ to yourself as you felt a building pressure in your stomach. 

Every thrust into you further separated your brain from your body. Your eyes lost focus as you watched the door bounce. No, wait, you were bouncing, right? Bouncing up and down the stiff rail of Alastor’s arousal. Your head fell forward, gasping as you felt him harden further while buried deep in you. He was going to cum again, you could feel it, you would feel it. The thought made your body shake as a pressure grew steadily in you. 

Not a new sensation, but a different one. 

“Louder,” another thinly veiled demand from Alastor that seemed to come from somewhere else entirely. Your eyes noticed a small light on the floor near the wall. A radio, buzzing with the same crackle as his voice.

“Yes,” you ground out, his hands were slippery with sweat as his nails dug in to ensure he didn’t lose his grip on you. “Yes, yes, yes.” He brought you down entirely and only let you off a little, an unspoken fear he would release too close to your entrance and he’d lose precious seed he needed your body to receive. “Yes! Alastor!” You weren’t sure who was talking now, as it surely couldn’t be you. You’d never —

“You’re better than him. You’re bigger and stronger and and he never —- he could never…”

He was suddenly regretting the position, unable to watch you fall apart as he so lovingly spread you open. 

With a shriek, your back crashed into his chest as Alastor fell backward into his pillows. He didn’t miss a beat. He continued fucking up into you but let one hand reach your clit. When you whined, he breathed into your hair, “I need you to orgasm.” Other hand pressing down on your womb, “Many cultures believed a woman couldn’t get pregnant without finding her release first. Surely it’ll take. Cum for me my doe.”

You shook your head, “Alastor that isn’t possible.” Not that you were arguing against the way his finger was rubbing up and down on your swollen clit, you just felt the need to remind him of the obvious. Your eyes wandered up and back to see the hauntingly wide antlers now. His transformed face barely visible in the shadows.

“I thought you were a good girl.” His mouth kissed at the base of your ears, hand over your womb pressing in and exaggerating the feeling of his cock bulging from under your skin. “Darling,” he groaned, “Are you ready for my knot?”

You moaned at the words. No, of course not. 

“Yes,” you got quiet, embarrassed again. Your hand snaked up and behind to hold his shoulder for stability. 

“Relax,” he hissed, feeling your body tensing in anticipation.

You tried your best, but between his strumming finger and the sting still at your entrance you struggled to let things go limp.

This time you felt it growing beneath you. Alastor was ready as well, pushing it in before it was swollen so large he’d have to force it or just suffer with it outside.

Lubricated with the multiple loads already fucked into and then out of you, the knot pushed past your entrance with ease. But then you felt it expanding in you. Eyes crossing as they rolled back with the foreign sensation. It didn’t hurt, but a little alarm was going off in the back of your brain. How could something natural feel so unnatural? And how—

Your body locked up, muscles from thighs to neck tight. Alastor’s finger hadn’t stopped, and as the second knotted release flooded you with his feverish need, as his knot trapped every drop and forced it up past your cervix you tripped into your first orgasm. Different from your own hand and toys, the build up hadn’t been a slow ratcheting climb. No, you were rolling through waves of nearly pained pleasure. The spasming forced your body to feel him even more, pulling him deeper, triggering another wave to crash into you.

Alastor wanted to praise you, a rush of hormones and ego expanding his chest but the sensations had him so overwhelmed he was manually breathing. His hand didn’t want to stop, because then the way your pussy was positively sucking him in would also end. But your little cries and moans got increasingly choked and strained.

The calm briefly offered by knotting a mate during his rut came to your rescue, Alastor dragging a still barely moving finger up your body and going slack into the pillows.

Deep breaths, both of you fighting to slow them down. Alastor was experiencing another moment of clarity, only slightly upset he had doled out so much tenderness.

But for you, there was no deep fog of a heat to numb the sensations and let the more bothersome bits of consciousness turn off. Your mind was just as clear as normal. A little lusty, but nowhere near Alastor’s altered state. As you laid against his chest, waiting for him to be able to pull out, you could feel the pains and aches setting in.

Alastor summoned a minion, food set down on his desk under a silver cloche. Your eyes caught the black and white creature before it was whisked away.

Sitting up, you flinched but fought against the pain, “Alastor. What was that?”

His hands pulled you back down by the shoulders, skin on skin, “My minion. One of many.” 

 Exhausted, you could only sigh, “So, the errand.”

His hands went up defensively, “Oh come now, did you really think I was the good guy?” You didn’t reply. The silence began to bother him. Odd, given he usually didn’t give a fuck.

But he’d asked a lot of you, and you agreed willingly. You did as you were told. A little twinge of concern he had actually upset you wiggled between his ribs.

His hands slipped down your waist and settled over your stomach, “…Are you hungry? If you stay like this, I can help you eat.” You took a deep breath in, but didn’t even move to look at him. He squirmed ever so slightly, “I can only assume you’re… quite sore. Perhaps a bath? But I can’t guarantee we’ll make it out much cleaner than we are now.” His smile was smaller, just lips; no teeth. As his antlers withdrew and his limbs all returned to their proper places he could turn his head enough to look at your face.

Alastor felt relief wash over him to see you deeply asleep in his arms. It wasn’t a bad idea, to sleep before the next spell hit him and he was too far gone to think about baths or meals.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Alastor awoke in the dark. He found his hands and ankles tied behind his back, his body naked and sweating. He was on fire, pieces of himself lifting in the hot breeze and blowing away. He could feel his body fragmenting. You were just a little ways away and he tried desperately to reach out to you but as his eyes adjusted you were suddenly too far. If he could just get you to take a single piece of him, a shard of himself, he would live still. Even when the rest of him was dead and gone, he’d be alive in your hands. A raging stress, the fire now reaching his bones. It wasn’t too late. He still had time. Just a sliver of his existence was all he needed to get to you.

When you woke up, your body was at the foot of the bed. Looking over you saw Alastor lazily stroking his painfully hard erection. His gaze downcast, vision cloudy with unmet needs.

“Alastor?” With shaky arms you lifted yourself. You were hot. Was it the fire? No, before it had no heat. A little damp outline into the comforter formed where your body had been. 

“You’re awake.” He reached over and grabbed your ankle, pulling you towards him and rolling you onto your back. Hand still around your ankle, he pulled your leg against his chest.

“Alastor.”

He sunk into you without hesitation, hips rolling into you roughly. Your body was rocking against the bed, wood creaking against wood with the steady force of his thrusts.

It felt good. Better than before, your walls felt soft and puffy around him. Alastor’s head was low, groaning every time he bottomed out. You could see just enough past him to watch the bed canopy swaying above you both before he folded you in half and leaned fully over you.

His eyes were unfocused like his mind, staring into the bed. A large palm at either side of your head, his back curved as he angled his hips to reach deeper yet.

“I’m so hot.” You were struggling to get the words out. It felt so good, the deeper in you he reached the more you seemed to be melting away.

Your hips were lifted off the mattress, held up entirely by his cock as he continued to rut into you. He could feel the fever in you rising. 

Bent and tangled together, his head was nearly above yours. He was sweating, hair stuck down and ears folded back. A bead fell from his cheek and hit your forehead. He was working so hard. Such a strong man. A strong buck. 

Something in you snapped. Something twisted and burned in your belly. You brought the other leg up to let yourself be folded in half completely, and his eyes wandered to your face. Your frontal cortex was just static as the lights were shutting off in most parts of your more human faculties. 

Everything got quiet in you, a deep seated feeling of security creeping up your legs and sinking into your bones. With Alastor in you, nothing bad could happen to you. If you were carrying his offspring you’d be guaranteed a new level of protection. You needed it. You wouldn’t survive if you weren’t fucked and bred by the overlord. 

How could your body be wrong when the feeling was so natural? So intensely confident?

“Alastor!” Your nails dug into biceps, hands clamoring up his arms to cling onto him, “breed me, please.” 

He was caught alight, mind on ablaze with his raging fever. Your plea was a magnifying glass concentrating the sun into him and sparking a wildlife. Alastor was defenseless against the way your words affected him. 

He could feel it, he could smell it, your heat triggered finally. His lips caught yours as his hands slipped up the blanket with how he had to contort to reach your mouth. You moaned into him, teeth on teeth as neither of you had any ability to finesse things.

“On your knees,” he instructed. You scrambled to turn around as he briefly left your body. A desperate whine in the seconds that stretched on, the emptiness unbearable. It hurt to have him anywhere but balls deep in you.

His hands slipped around your tail that still tried to swish side to side. When he tugged you gasped, the closest sensation you had was having your hair pulled. Chills ran up your spine. You nearly fell forward, but a strong hand wrapped around your neck and pulled your head back. He lined up, adjusting his legs wider to get down to your level.

“Are you feeling it?” He nipped at your shoulder, “Your heat?”

You pushed your ass back and pressed his tip into you. The sound that tore through your chest was answer enough for him as you tried your best to move along his length all on your own.

“You’re okay,” he squeezed lightly around your neck, pussy twitching around him as lightning snapped through you. “I’ll take care of you.”

Words that made your head spin. His body on yours felt like security. Everywhere his skin touched yours was a gulp of cold water in a drought.

A cliche, as he began to move again and his cock hit your g-spot every couple thrusts, you couldn’t tell where you ended and he began. His fever was matched to yours, no heat exchanged as warm and wet flesh moved around warm and wet flesh. Was that your hand or his on your stomach? Both were searing, both soft and slick. One of your hands was reaching down to hold his arm for support.

Eyes slipping shut, you imagined this was what being high felt like. You were out of your body entirely, feeling his dick slipping in and out of you from a different plane of existence. There was a sense your mouth was moving but no awareness of what you were saying. Truly just babbling as Alastor’s speed hitched. A clawed hand on your hip cut into you as he pressed deeper with every thrust.

He guided you down onto your stomach, hand now resting on your right shoulder to keep you in place. You were entirely flat, his knees parting your legs so he could get flush against your core. 

His knot was in place as he began to swell. You felt it again, him flooding your womb as he released directly into your twitching cervix. A euphoria filled you so totally you were sure you could feel the cells of your body humming.

Like a cool breeze had blown down, your fevers broke nearly immediately.

“Oh,” you squeaked, Alastor’s hand releasing you as he lied on top of you. The weight of him was oddly arousing as it gave a clear comparison of your smaller size. “I think you’re right. Estrus.”

He nodded, rolling you both onto your sides, “Would you like the good news or bad news first?”

Resting your head on his extended arm, you tried getting comfortable despite the sticky feeling of your skin and the burning in your thighs, “bad news.”

“You won’t be walking straight for days.” He said it with a heavy tone of pride.

“Oh geez…,” you could feel his knot still throbbing between your hips, “The good news?”

“Your heat is going to make me even more desperate to fill you,” his free hand ran down your sides and slipped between your legs to feel where you two were connected. 

You turned your head the best you could, “That’s not good news, Alastor!”

He laughed, “I lied. Oh well!”

While the good news had been a lie, the way your body’s shift into meeting Alastor’s instincts upped his feral responses was not.  You nibbled on fruit and bread and cured meats in the small windows the clouds around your humanity parted.

But when they’d roll back in, a tempest of feral wants crashing into you both, you’d find yourself clinging to the deer demon.

You could have had an apple in one hand and be mid bite when his musk would reach you and your grip would loosen. With just a moan and a lifting of your hips Alastor would be dragging you closer, crawling over your body, mounting you wherever you two happened to be.

It wasn’t that you’d become confident by the end of the day, but that you’d lost all semblance of shame and embarrassment.

When Alastor pulled you onto his lap and placed your hands on his peach fuzz covered antlers, you didn’t need verbal instructions. It took all of your arm span to reach them, so you held tightly as he thrust up into you. None of his noises had been as intoxicating as the ones he made when you were leaning over him and squeezing his prongs with every jostle of your womb. Perhaps he’d lost his shame too, loud and long moans the other residents had to have heard spilling from his open mouth. 

The wet slap of your ass coming back down onto his thighs as he bounced you was barely registered. Head hung low to meet his black engulfed eyes, you didn’t notice his smile was gone for the first time since you’d met him. Pinhole red pupils were locked on your face and imperceptibly roamed around your lust filled expression. 

One hand reached up and rubbed the soft skin of your downturn rabbit’s ears between his thumb and index finger. Soft. Velvet. 

A sensation that was wholly pleasant, not sexual in any nature but feeding the comfort provided by Alastor’s cock buried to the hilt. He wanted to enjoy the smile it gave you but he could feel his orgasm climbing exponentially.

There it was again, the darkness of your combined heat and rut slinking in. Body to body, your own sounds harmonizing with his and losing distinction. “Alastor–,” eyes drifting shut, “Please. I feel empty.” His previous loads dripping down your thighs, then down his own, and soaking into the carpet. “Fill me up. Please, can you breed me?”

His hand pulled down on your ear, “That was never in question.”

You let go of his extended prongs, arching your back to take a kiss. More. His tongue in your mouth, another hole full of Alastor. His hands both reunited on your ass and used the flesh there like handles. He fucked up into you, withholding the growing at his base, until he felt you cumming around him again. As your body sucked him in with rolling spasms, he pressed you down on his upthrust. A pained moan as it was pushed in a little late. 

Lightning behind your eyelids, your mouths hanging open and pressed together. 

Both of you a pile on the floor, a cold blue flame and soft music playing from the still broken radio. Uncharacteristically, Alastor’s arms wrapped around your smaller form and clung to you. The sensations were popping up one by one. Sticky skin, sweat rolling down your face, hair sticking to your neck and forehead. You’d have to peel each other apart. Which you did, eventually. When Alastor could pull out, he followed through on the bath he’d been thinking about. 

You protested, reminding him you’d be soaking the floor with displaced bath water as soon as the next urge to mate came around. But he laughed, smile back in place as if it had never left, “Sweetheart if I do my job right you won’t even realize you’re not in bed until you’re knotted and knocked up.”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

He hadn’t been lying about the protective second day. But what he hadn’t anticipated was just how long that aggressive desire to keep others at a distance from you would last. While your deal had been in place for a little while before his rut, it wasn’t until after your time together in his room that it seemed to ever be used. 

But you didn’t need to call out for him, like he had said. No, anytime someone even looked at you with a nasty thought, you were graced with his presence. Most people figured it out quickly enough, but occasionally new and brave idiots would approach you with trouble. 

So when a tall and imposing creature cornered you in a shop, hand holding something sharp and shiny and asked, “Scared, little hare?", you could only smile as your face was lit up by a green glow and offer a little advice, “No, but you should be.”

deleted scene ˗ˏˋ Masterlist ˎˊ˗

˖  ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

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[scarlet-star-witch]

The moon and his sun (Part VI)

Aemond Targaryen x female reader

Summary: People would remember their story. Even decades after they were gone, Septa’s would tell young children about the one-eyed dragon prince and his sweet wife as if they were a part of a fairytale, too good to be true for the harshness real life possessed.

Aemond meets a young girl who quickly becomes his most cherished friend and changes the course of history.

Word count: 6.7 K

Warnings: More angst, Aegon being the villain of all villains, lots of grief and sadness, but also fluff because they love each other so much

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 ... Part 7

~~

Things were different after that night. She was different. With each passing day Aemond saw less and less of the woman he knew and loved with every inch of his being. She was no longer that bright-eyed and sparkling girl he had known since his childhood.

Her lips no longer curled with mischief, her laughter no longer rang out in their chambers. Her hand no longer sought him out, she had no kisses to give him just for the sake of it. 

The space between them in their bed felt like a chasm that was too great for him to cross to get to her.

She spent her days curled up in bed, hugging the blankets tightly to her, refusing anyone who attempted to pry them away from her. The maids tip-toed around her, the gazes of pity stirring Aemond’s anger. 

She barely spoke a word, only giving weak-sounding excuses to refuse her meals, to refuse to get up and face the day. 

He didn’t blame her. If he could, he would be in that bed beside her all hours of the day, but his duties as a Prince didn’t stop because his heart had shattered. The thought of his lost child didn’t leave his mind as he sat in on meetings of war, it was all he thought of as he numbly walked the halls like a ghost. 

The empty chair next to him at every dinner spoke volumes and he didn’t know how many more nights he could endure the pitying looks from his mother. 

The guilt was drowning him. 

He knew the attack was revenge for what he had done to Lucerys Velaryon. He knew that man he had driven his sword into was following the orders of Rhaenyra and Daemon. He knew his wife had almost been murdered for his mistake.

He knew his child was dead because of him. 

He couldn’t stomach the thought. He felt untethered to himself, as if he were walking around without a soul. He couldn’t handle the grief, he couldn’t fathom the reality that played out around him. 

So he settled for anger. It was what he knew, it was familiar. 

The moment he would leave his wife’s side, the moment he stepped out of their chambers, the melancholy and the heartbreak would recede within him, his face hardening, his entire demeanor changing in an instant, portraying that of a cold, unflinching soldier rather than the mourning husband and lost father. 

The thought of his half sister and uncle made him see red, the dragon blood within him sizzling under his skin, igniting a fury so volatile it shadowed any ire he had felt for his bastard nephews. 

He sat in his mother’s chambers, staring blankly out the window, ignoring the politicking his mother and grandsire attempted to bring forth to Aegon who sat looking bored. Time passed unknowingly, his mind a million miles away - or just mere hallways away where his wife lay, a picture of a broken mother. 

“Aemond?”

He turned his attention to his mother who was eyeing him questioningly. He hummed absentmindedly and she sighed. 

“How is she?”

He clenched his jaw, his eyes falling to his feet, unable to speak a word of his wife’s condition. He would surely break down if he did and he refused to let his prick of a brother witness such a moment of weakness. 

Alicent sighed, failing yet again to engage her son in any semblance of conversation.

“Her maid told me she has refused to eat… again.” 

Aemond felt himself twitch, his anger sparking at the mention of his wife and the monumental grief she was lost in, that he had no way to help her through. 

He felt a sharp pain in his chest, the same pain he had been feeling for the past few days. He wondered each time if it were another piece of his heart cracking, shriveling away to nothing. He wondered when it would stop, when there would finally be nothing left of it. 

He pictured the scene he had walked into that night, the sight of that man over his wife, her below him, bloody and crying, so close to being taken from the world, taken from him.

It was a sight that had haunted his every waking thought since. 

It was a sight that had broken him beyond repair. 

It was a sight that left him bloodthirsty. 

Unable to stand the grief any longer, he succumbed to his burning anger, the thought of his uncle and half-sister leaving him to feel as though there was only one single thing he could do to release him from the fury that was all-consuming, sure enough to devour him at any moment.

He abruptly stood, causing his family to flinch and send curious stares his way. 

“Aemond?”

“I cannot sit here and let the attempt on my wife’s life and the loss of my child go unpunished any longer.”

He stomped towards the door, prompting his mother and grandsire to stand and quickly follow behind him, worry painting their features. Helaena shifted uncomfortably where she sat, the grief that surrounded her brother and dear friend shrouding her kind heart, clouding her usually sunny disposition. Even Aegon looked worried, his eyes flitting between his brother and his Hand with apprehension.

“It will not go unpunished, but we need a plan. We cannot blindly go forward with violence.” Otto scolded him impatiently.

Aemond smirked, the sight of a man who was beginning to lose it all.

“My uncle underestimates me. He will soon know better than to threaten what’s mine.” 

“Aemond, please.” Alicent pleaded desperately. “I know you’re hurting, but you cannot let your grief rule you, we need-”

“I need to end this. I started this and I paid for it with the life of my child.” Aemond seethed, his lone eye wide and becoming glassy, the lump in his throat growing as he thought of his babe he would never hold. 

Helaena felt her own eyes begin to well with tears as she watched her broken brother attempt to salvage what little control he felt he had. 

“Daemon will die for this and I won’t wait any longer for you to discuss allies and soldiers, to wait long enough to let him plan another attack that will take my wife from me. I will end it today. He doesn’t deserve to see another sunrise.”

He moved to the door once more, but his mother frantically latched onto his arm, pulling him back, her own tears falling down her cheeks.

“Please, think this through.”

“I have!” Aemond screamed, his heart racing, his hands trembling, his grief and anger overtaking every rational thought in his mind. 

His vision blurred and he abruptly turned away from his family, refusing to let them see him crumble. 

The room was silent, heavy with tension. 

“Vhagar is mighty, but she cannot take on Caraxes, Syrax, Meleys, even Vermax, alone and you will get yourself killed for nothing.” Otto added, causing Aemond to flinch as if he’d been struck.

It wasn’t for nothing. It was for his wife, for the child they lost, the son they would never get to hold.

“Aemond.” Helaena’s tearful voice spoke up. “She needs you.”

The words, so simple yet gut wrenching, were enough to snuff out his fury. The thought of his wife, the woman who was grieving just as he was and what would happen to her if he charged into battle. The thought of her losing someone else, knowing he would break her already fragile heart into a state of disrepair had his head spinning, the desire to rip his uncle limb from limb receding into the depths of his mind.

The only thing that mattered was her. 

He refused to cause her any more harm. 

He left the room without another word, keeping his head down as he quickly made his way to their chambers. 

His frayed nerves needed only one antidote, her. 

Stepping into their chambers, his heart jumped within his chest as he noticed the bed was empty. He panicked momentarily before he heard the soft voices of her maids. He stepped forward slowly, peeking his head into the next room where her maids surrounded her, their touches gentle as they helped her bathe. 

Aemond felt the ache return, as if a fist were clenched tightly around his heart, squeezing until it ceased to beat. 

Her eyes were dull, her face passive. His throat grew tight as he watched the maids lift her arm, the limp limb like a ragdoll, as if she were merely a corpse, a body functioning without its beautiful mind. 

It shattered him beyond repair to see her in this state. 

You did this, the tormenting voice in his head reminded him yet again. 

The guilt could’ve knocked him off his feet. 

Gritting his teeth, he turned away from the torturous sight before him and stormed out of the room, his quick, angered pace taking him out of the Red Keep. 

His breathing was heavy, his chest heaving with every step he took. 

Vhagar raised her head lazily as her rider approached. Her demeanor changed in an instant, shaking herself from her tiredness, her bonded’s fury and despair so loud, it was radiating off him in waves. She growled lowly, snarling as he approached.

Aemond had no words of comfort, nothing to say to calm his dragon. She felt what he felt, she was as thirsty for destruction as he was. 

He commanded Vhagar to fly, where he didn’t know. 

The frigid wind was like knives against his skin, the rope in his hands course and rough. He hadn’t bothered to wear his gloves or any of his proper attire for riding. He had been desperate to get out of that room, unable to face his wife for a second longer or his heart would’ve given out there and then. 

He just needed to get away from it all. Everywhere he looked there were reminders of what had happened that night, what he caused. 

To see his wife in such a state and to know it was because of him left him wondering how much longer he could live with it. He was certain it wouldn’t be too much longer, he almost welcomed it for he couldn’t live like this any more. 

Aemond rode far and fast, his legs aching, his back becoming sore, but it didn’t matter to him, it barely even registered. 

Noticing a small island on the horizon, Aemond pulled the reins, commanding Vhagar to descend. 

His heart raced, the lump in his throat close to choking him. 

“Vhagar…” He called out, his voice hoarse with emotion. “Dracarys!” 

His mighty dragon roared streams of fire, over and over as her rider commanded, his yelled commands becoming inaudible over the currents of fire she spewed. Aemond watched the trees burn, their flames growing into raging infernos. He commanded Vhagar to land and he numbly stumbled off her saddle, his grace gone in his state of despair. 

He stepped forward, his eye glowing orange with the flames before him. He felt the heat radiating from the blaze and took another step towards it. Behind him, Vhagar roared, as if in warning, as if she could sense the danger, sense the recklessness in her rider. 

A choked breath escaped his lips, his mind flashing with images of that dreaded night, his wife screaming in agony, her thighs dripping red with the loss of their child. He thought of the little boy he pictured all those times he would place his hand over the small bump that grew, imagining the child with eyes like his mother’s, his smile wide and deliriously happy like his mother’s. The memories were suffocating. 

You did this.

The words circled in his head until he broke. 

His eyes burned with tears and he gasped helplessly as they fell in a torrent down his cheeks. His legs felt weak under him and he stumbled, falling to his knees in the coarse grass below him. 

He cried and screamed until his throat hurt. He unleashed his fury and heartbreak in a flood of sobs he couldn’t control.

The flames before him crawled towards him, the heat before him that burned uncomfortably hot an unlikely comfort. He remained still as the fire raged closer and closer. 

Behind him, Vhagar roared, a sound so heartbreaking it mirrored her rider’s own all consuming anguish. 

Minutes, that felt like hours, passed until he had no tears left, his throat dry and aching, leaving him to stare blankly forward, the flames before him like a hypnotizing mirage, beckoning him forward, enticing him to end the pain once and for all. 

It wasn’t until the trees before him began to creak and wither, soon collapsing under the assault, wicked waves of embers and ash spraying towards him, the island he unleashed his fury on succumbing to his destruction, that he shook himself from his grief induced daze.

With a heavy breath, his eye heavy and hurting, he finally got to his feet slowly, making no haste to climb back atop Vhagar who seemed to rumble in discontent below him, as if to chastise him for his recklessness. 

As he flew back to King’s Landing, he felt no lighter, no great catharsis that lifted the weight on his chest. His heart still felt as though it would break with each breath.  

He just hoped he could survive another agonizing day.

~~

The days dragged on and he was left to face his wife’s absence once again, his head down as he ate, desperate to get the meal over with as quickly as he could and get back to their chambers to be with her. 

At the head of the table, Otto cleared his throat and Aemond wondered how such a miniscule sound could still hold authority. He looked up with barely contained disdain and he met the surly eyes of his grandsire. 

“I think it is time we discuss our next steps.” 

“Father.” Alicent admonished wearily. “Now is not the time.”

Aemond’s eye narrowed, it was all too obvious they had been conspiring without him. 

“Clearly you have something to say, so say it.” Aemond barked out, his tone making Helaena flinch from where she sat across the table. 

The look of apprehension his mother sent to his grandsire didn’t go unnoticed, heightening his already tempestuous nerves. 

“It is apparent your wife’s grief is not permitting her to uphold her duties-”

Aemond didn’t need to hear anymore. He stood from his chair, letting it clatter to the floor from the force of his movements and didn’t spare a look back at his family as he made his way to the door, his body rigid with fury. 

Ignoring the cries of his mother to come back and his grandsire’s warning to not turn his back on them, he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. 

He knew his granside was not overly fond of his union, that he would rather he ally himself with that dastardly Baratheon girl or a plain girl from the Riverlands. He knew it was all to help Aegon’s cause and he couldn’t care less. 

No one dared to make eye contact with the feared Prince as he stomped down the halls with an air of fury. He pictured his wife, the playful shove and sarcastic admonishment she would give him for his temper as the maids scurried out of his path in terror. 

The thought of her, of the person she no longer was, of what was ripped away from them so viciously only made his blood boil hotter. 

His entire body was locked with tension as he stormed into their chambers. He leaned against the closed door, his eye falling closed as he breathed deeply in an effort to regain any ounce of calmness he could reach. 

“Hi.”

Her soft voice startled him, his eyes springing open, searching frantically among the room until he landed on her curled up form on the couch by the hearth. 

His lips parted in surprise, hope swelling within him at the sight of her out of that bed, washing away every bit of his anger in an instant.  

“Hi.” He breathed out, approaching slowly, gauging her reaction as he took a seat next to her, making sure to leave a respectable amount of space between them, as if they were a pair of innocent children, having to put on airs for the court. 

“I assume dinner did not go well.”

Aemond let out a low sound, too exhausted and mentally drained to laugh as he slumped, no longer the picture of the perfectly put together Targaryen Prince. He ran a hand over his tired face. 

“You are familiar with my family. I’m surprised you had any positive expectations.” 

Her lips quirked upwards slightly, more of a barely perceptible twitch of her lips, in a pathetic attempt to convey some semblance of amusement. She couldn’t muster much more in her state. 

Aemond watched her intently, noticing the signs of exhaustion, the way she curled up into herself, her eyes dull and marked with dark circles. It hurt him deeply to see her in this state, but he couldn’t deny the relief he felt at the mere fact that she was no longer hiding beneath her sheets.  

“You.. you’re out of bed.” He remarked quietly. 

She looked over at him, slightly surprised by his words. She wrapped her arms around herself and leaned back deeper into the couch she lay on, as if she could make herself smaller. 

“It felt like…” She started slowly, trying to find the words to describe the grief that was overtaking her. “Like a fog had finally lifted, like I could finally control my own body again.”

Aemond nodded slowly, the ache within him only growing more prominent at her words. He reached out, taking her hand in his, his thumb gently caressing the bandage she still wore. He winced slightly at the sight of it, the reminder of that night, of how he had almost lost her and the pain she had been in stirring his devastation yet again. 

“Did you eat?” 

She clammed up at his question, her eyes quickly casting down to the floor, refusing to look his way.

“I’m not hungry.” She responded monotonously, the response becoming all too familiar to him. 

Aemond sighed, pushing past his disappointment, choosing to focus on the relief he felt that she had even gotten out of bed. He’d take whatever progress came, no matter how slow. 

The pair of them were left in silence, a tense air around them that had never existed between them before. 

She shifted in her spot, hating what they had come to, hating her mind for forcing her to relive her loss over and over, keeping her in this black hole of misery she couldn’t claw her way out of. 

As the minutes passed in a dreadful silence, she finally reached her breaking point, her disdain for the state of their marriage for once overtaking her grief.

“Can you read to me… like you used to?” She asked, her voice sounding slightly raspy from disuse. 

Aemond looked shocked by her question, but the light that reached his eye was unmistakable, twisting her stomach for the first time in weeks in ways that didn’t signal trauma. The fluttering of nervous butterflies at the sight of him made her feel like she was a child again.

He nodded eagerly and reached for the book that lay on the table beside him, the book he’d been leafing through at night when he couldn’t find sleep, when the guilt became overwhelming that he couldn’t bring himself to lay next to her. 

He began to read, stealing occasional looks to her, a hint of a smile playing at his lips as their eyes met each time. 

With each passing second, the tension between them slowly abated, leaving the tranquil ease they were used to. 

Both of them couldn’t help but think back to how their friendship started, of their days together in the library, the hours she spent listening to Aemond read, the beginning of everything. 

She smiled lightly, focusing on the beautiful sound of her husband’s voice. She let her body relax, unclenching each limb that was wrought with stiffness. She shifted, stretching her legs out on the couch, Aemond reflexively moving his book to bring her feet to rest in his lap, laying his other hand over her legs as he had done a thousand times before, reminiscent of late nights reading by the fire after hours of lovemaking. 

She smiled and let her head fall back on the pillow behind her, closing her eyes in contentment, letting Aemond’s voice relax her into a state of calm she didn’t think she’d ever feel again.

Slowly, the weight on their shoulders lifted, piece by piece, replacing their soul-crushing hurt with a relative ease, the despair and grief dissipating. It was still there, they both knew they wouldn’t soon forget the thought of their child, but it didn’t feel as strangling as before. 

It took time, but she was able to spend more days out of bed, beginning to eat little bites of the food Aemond had brought her, her heart feeling lighter at the sight of his relieved smile with every bite she took. 

She would have her moments, when the grief became all consuming once again and she would hate the world for what it took from her, but he would be there every time to embrace her tightly and wipe her tears, to tuck her into their bed and hold her in his arms until she calmed. 

“I think of him every second of the day.” She whispered into the darkness, the tightening of Aemond’s arms around her the only indication that he had heard her words. 

They didn’t speak much about their child, but it was clear to both of them the loss was never far from their minds. Aemond held her differently, more gently, as if he feared she would crack like porcelain if his touch was anything more than feather-light. 

“I do too.” He admitted quietly, his voice strained from the emotions that threatened to break him at the thought of their child. His hand smoothed down the front of her nightgown, resting on her stomach that no longer grew with the life of their babe. 

A shuddering breath escaped her, the noise prompting Aemond to pull her in closer to him, his lips pressing to her cheek in a gentle show of affection, one she needed desperately. 

“I’m sorry.” She whispered tearfully. 

Aemond turned her over so she was facing him, his hand resting on her cheek, his thumb discreetly wiping the tears that had snuck out of the corner of her eye.

“You do not ever need to apologize to me.” He assured her softly, his nose brushing against hers as he regarded her carefully, the sight of her sadness stirring his determination to remind her of what she meant to him, how deeply his love for her ran.

“This is my fault.”

Aemond’s whispered words crashed over her like a wave. Her eyes met his, the sadness reflected in his own mirroring hers, revealing how much they were both struggling, adrift in the sea of grief without a paddle.

“You didn’t do this.” She told him, her voice weak with emotion. “You love our son. I would never doubt that.” 

His face twisted, taking a monumental effort not to crumble into tears. She could tell him a million times, but he wouldn’t believe it. He knew what he was, he knew what he did, and nothing would change it.

All he could do was try to live with it. 

He tightened his grip on her, moving in closer so there was no inch of his body that wasn’t pressed against hers. He needed her comfort, her closeness, to remind himself there was something worth living for. 

He leaned in, kissing her more softly than he could ever recall, their first proper kiss in weeks. 

“You mean more to me than anything in this world.” He kissed her again, just as gentle as before. “I would be nothing without you.” 

His whispered words made her eyes sting again, though this time for a much different reason. She felt as thought the deep cracks in her heart were beginning to heal, slowly coming back together to be whole again, to love again. 

Despite the grief they still felt so strongly, they came back to each other, finding solace in their shared tears and memories of what they had envisioned for their future. 

But it couldn’t last forever.

They were curled up on the couch together one afternoon when a knock sounded at their door. She tensed immediately, causing Aemond to tighten his hold on her as he called for the person to enter. 

A guard entered their room and bowed respectfully. 

“My Prince, Princess. King Aegon has sent for both of you to meet him in the council chambers.” 

Aemond tensed, his gaze narrowing as he sat up straighter. 

“Both of us?”

“That is what the King has ordered.”

They shared looks of uncertainty, her fear growing greater than his at the prospect of facing his family for the first time since the incident. She’d seen Helaena of course, her sweet friend had been by her side, brightening her day for the past week once she’d been accepting of visitors again. 

But she had yet to see Alicent and the thought of coming face to face with Otto and Aegon had her ready to jump back into her bed, pull the sheets over her head and pretend the outside world didn’t exist. 

But she had a duty to perform. She couldn’t very well refuse the King, especially not when he was a drunken beast with the temperament of a spoiled toddler. 

She smoothed her hair out in an attempt to look more presentable and took Aemond’s arm, the two of them walking slowly, their bodies tense, pits of dread in their stomachs, as if they were headed to the executioner’s block. 

They arrived at the council chambers much too quickly. She kept her head down as they entered, but the sound of the Dowager Queen’s voice quickly had her raising her gaze to attention.

“Why is she here?”

She first met her good mother’s look of contempt before shifting to land on Aegon’s lecherous smile and her stomach twisted. 

“I invited her here, mother. This concerns her too.”

Aemond looked between his mother and brother incredulously, a sinking feeling growing within him, suddenly dreading having ever left their chambers. 

“What is the meaning of this?” 

“Take a seat, we have much to discuss.” Aegon said, all too cheerfully. Across the table, the Hand sighed heavily, sending a snide look to his grandson for his lack of decorum.

“There are still arrangements to be made for House Tully.” Otto began vaguely, his eyes shifting from Aemond to his wife at his side, mentally preparing himself for the fight that was soon to break out. 

“These arrangements concern me?” Aemond asked, his tone already one of hostility. 

Alicent cleared her throat and sat up straighter in her seat, her gaze focused solely on her hands, refusing to meet the gaze of her son.

“With Daeron’s marriage agreement securing Storm’s End as our ally, that leaves House Tully to be discussed.”

Aemond’s brows furrowed, his heart picking up its pace, his mother’s refusal to look him in the eye setting his nerves alight. 

Aegon rolled his eyes at the delicate nature of the meeting that was taking far too long for his liking. 

“You will be betrothed to a Tully daughter, securing their alliance to our side.” Aegon blurted out quickly, ignoring the looks of indignation from his mother and gransire. 

Aemond’s face darkened, a sarcastic sounding laugh escaping him, the sound making the hairs on the back of Alicent’s neck stand at attention, for it was a sound far colder than she had ever heard from her son.

“I know you’ve been lost in your cups for years, brother, but surely you remember that I married many moons ago.” 

The bitter tone to his voice put everyone on edge. 

“Yes, but your wife has been unable to give you a son, a valid enough reason for an annulment, I’d say.” 

He didn’t know what pissed him off more, Aegon’s words or the ease with which he had said them, as if it was a decision easily made. Aemond grit his teeth, his deadly glare locked steadily on his brother, a thousand and one threats to his life on the tip of his tongue. 

To have their loss thrown into their faces so callously had him seeing red.

But it was the soft hand that brushed over his, desperately seeking comfort, that held him back. He turned to his wife, the brimming tears of defeat in her eyes and the despair in her expression made him want to scream.

She couldn’t possibly think he was going to let this happen.

He turned to Otto, his gaze flaring with anger. 

“This is ridiculous, he cannot do this.”

“It is a valid reason.” 

Aemond stormed to his feet, the abrupt action causing the guards at the door to put their hands on their swords, threatening him before he could make a move to end the lives of anyone who dared to threaten his marriage. 

He seethed, sending a deadly glare to the guards before turning his attention to his mother who sat silently, picking at her nails anxiously.

“Mother?” He asked, fury coursing through him again when she refused to meet his eye. 

“You would not be forced from her. Many men take mistresses.” 

A choked breath escaped him, his gaze laced with betrayal, his mother’s words like a slap across the face. 

“Exactly!” Aegon agreed, all too happy with the turn of events. “Your marriage was already a sham. He was bedding her long before they were betrothed.” 

Aemond’s lone eye glared daggers at his brother. He could feel the burning gazes of shame from his mother and grandsire and he couldn’t find it in himself to look their way.

“Not to worry, brother, I could easily keep your whore here with us. Aegon the Conqueror had two wives, maybe I’ll follow in his footsteps and take your sweet wife as my own.”

The smile he sent her made her stomach turn. She would die before she let Aegon touch her.

“I don’t mind sharing her.” Aegon smirked, the sight nausea inducing.

His wife’s hand on his arm was the only thing to stop Aemond from lunging forward to throttle his brother. He was trembling with rage, he had never felt this before, like every inch of him was unraveling, like the bare bones of him were alight with fire. 

He turned back to his mother, a sense of satisfaction coursing through him when he saw her flinch at the intensity of the fury in his gaze. 

“You cannot be serious.” He said, his voice dangerously quiet. “You cannot let him do this.”

“He is our King, I do not ‘let’ him do anything.” Alicent responded harshly. “You rushed into this marriage without considering our political position. We are at war and we need to do what we can to secure our allies. You have a duty to perform, Aemond.”

He couldn’t bear to hear another word and grabbed his wife's hand, hauling her up from her chair and storming out of the room, practically dragging her behind him as she struggled to keep up with his quick pace. 

Alicent sighed heavily as the door slammed behind them, burying her face in her hands. 

“Why would you summon her?”

“She deserved to hear what I have planned for her future.”

“You cannot truly be taking her to wife.” 

Aegon shrugged. “She’s pretty enough, I don’t see why I wouldn’t.”

Alicent’s disgust was clear in the sneer she sent her son. 

“Aemond will never agree to this.”

Otto leaned back in his chair, his mind returning to his first plan. 

“Perhaps it’s time we consider more… drastic options.” 

“What are you suggesting?” Alicent asked warily.

“Aemond will not budge so we must remove the obstacle in our way.”

The Dowager Queen felt a heavy weight settle on her chest that made it hard to breathe. Her son would never forgive her. 

“Surely there is another way.”

“We would not be in this predicament if you had done as I told you and stood your ground against this senseless marriage.” Otto sneered at his daughter. “Her death could have been avoided but it is too late now. We have no options left.”

Alicent kept her head bowed, silently praying to the Gods for forgiveness and begging every higher power that Aemond would never find out her part to play in what would destroy him. 

Across the Keep, Aemond slammed the door to the chambers shut, breathing heavily as he leaned against the grand door for a few moments.

“Aemond?”

The sound of her voice, her sweet voice that always brought him comfort, was now only a reminder of the turmoil his family had put him in. 

He growled and slammed his fist against the door, over and over again until his knuckles bled.

“Stop!” She screamed, gripping onto his arm, wrenching him away from the door. “Have you gone mad?!” 

He was breathing heavily, fury thrumming through his veins, his entire body shaking as his mind went over his brother’s words over again until he saw nothing but red. 

“Fucking prick.” He seethed. “He wouldn’t even be on that throne if it weren’t for me. He’d be across the narrow sea, probably dead in some whore’s bed.” 

She stayed quiet, letting him rant, expelling his anger so he wouldn’t storm back into the council chambers and separate his brother’s head from his shoulders.

“I have done everything for them. I’ve been the dutiful Prince they wanted me to be and what do I get in return? They want to dismantle my entire life, they want to rip me away from the only good thing I have and for what? For a damned throne he didn’t even want!” 

His chest heaved, the image of him reminding her of Vhagar, a wild dragon ready to spit fire. 

“I’ll kill him.”

“Aemond, stop.” She finally stepped in, pulling at his arm, stopping him from moving towards the door. “You’re not going to kill your own brother.”

“I won’t let him touch you. He’ll be dead before he can even look at you.” He spoke frantically, his wild eye now staring at her deeply, as if he needed her to hear his promise, as if she didn’t already believe it.

She swallowed against the lump in her throat, the weight on her chest so heavy it was a wonder she could even breathe.

“I’ll talk to my mother. I won’t let this happen.”

Her brows furrowed. He had heard his mother, just as she had, she was in agreement with this heinous idea. 

“Aemond…” She trailed off, her mind a mess of thoughts, though there was one thing she desperately longed for. “I need to go home.”

He paused, his anxious pacing coming to a sudden stop as he looked at her, ready for her to smile, or to assure him he had heard her wrong. Surely she wasn’t thinking about splitting up, not while the war raged, not when his family was trying to sink their claws into them.

“What?”

“I need to go back to Ixtal.”

“You want to leave? You… you’re leaving me?” Aemond choked out slowly, the tightening of his chest leaving him breathless.

“I don’t want to leave you, that’s the last thing I want, but I cannot stay here.” She spoke tearfully. “It’s been too long since I’ve heard from my parents. I know our letters are being intercepted, they would never let this much time go by without checking in on me. I don’t think they even know I lost the baby, I-I have to see them.”

Her pleas fell on deaf ears. All Aemond could comprehend was that she wanted to leave. The only thing he could grasp in his already tumultuous state was that he was losing her. He felt like his entire world was shattering in front of him.

“You can’t do this to me.” He choked out. 

Her eyes softened, her heart aching to hear him sound so weak.

“Aemond, I-”

“You aren’t leaving.” He spoke lowly, his voice betraying how scared he truly felt. 

She stepped towards him, reaching out to him but he quickly flinched back, his hard gaze landing on her, making her frown deeply, her stomach dropping. He had never once looked at her like that, as if she were the one betraying him.

“Aemond, I’m not safe here.” She told him, her voice weak, portraying just how exhausted she was. “Your family seeks to tear us apart-”

“And you’re making it much easier for them!” Aemond yelled. “You are not leaving and that’s final.”

She scoffed, he had never once spoken to her like this, he had never even raised his voice to her and it had her frustration rising, taking over any ounce of fear that had been plaguing her just seconds ago. 

“So you’re going to keep me prisoner? Lock me in our chambers until I comply? Or until I’m forced to watch you marry and bed another woman?”

Aemond’s eye blazed with fury at the mention of his family’s heinous plan. A plan he had no intention of ever complying with.

He grit his teeth, his mind a mess of thoughts that only seemed to infuriate him and spiral him into a pit of fire and gnashing teeth. 

He turned on his heel and pulled the door open with such a force, it was a miracle it stayed on its hinges.

“Where are you going?” She called out, but received no answer. The slamming of the door echoing in the room that felt more empty than ever before. 

Her lip quivered, her emotions coming to a head, their bleak looking future leaving the desire to scream out until she ran out of breath. She didn’t know the lengths his family would go to supplant her. 

She only knew it brought her fear to imagine what their ire would mean for her.

She was left to stew in her devastating thoughts for hours, Aemond’s absence from her side a glaring reminder of how truly alone she felt. Since her father had left, since this war had started, she scarcely recognized the place she had grown, the place she had fallen in love, the place that had been filled with so much laughter and delight. 

It seemed like it had all been a dream, a fantasy she had created for herself. 

She barely recognized her own husband anymore. 

As night crept on the Keep, as she refused her dinner once again, she crawled into her bed, pulling the sheets high around her, the racing of her heart not having calmed since the meeting, since she began to fear her marriage being forced from her. 

The thought was too much to fathom. She couldn’t stay there and watch as Aemond married someone else. She couldn’t watch as the woman’s stomach swelled with his child. 

The thought made her sick. 

No matter how much Aemond would sink his heels in and stand against it, it was still the King’s order. He couldn’t deny it forever. The second he would be parted from her side, forced to fight in this war, she was sure his family would take action, rip her out of their shared chambers, probably throw her in the dungeons so she wouldn’t cause any trouble and ruin their plans. 

She longed for her home, to be with her family again, wrapped in their warm, safe embrace. 

As their chamber door opened, Aemond finally returned, she closed her eyes and settled her breathing, pretending to sleep to avoid the inevitable tension still locked between them.

She’d had enough conflict for the day, perhaps her entire life. 

She remained still as she listened to him shed himself of his clothes and she tried with all her might not to cry as there was no dip of the bed beside her, as she heard him settle on the couch for the night. 

~~

Well... I can only apologize

I promise this story has a happy ending xx

~~

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So sorry if I forgot to tag you xx

[starillusion13]

hii there!! hope you doing well >_<!!

can i request for poly mafia ateez x reader fic? their boss are dead for 2 years and they just found out that he has a daughter. and they began to search for her n when they found her, they swear to her that they will take care of her, but ended up falling in love with her?

thank you so much!!! ;)))

To keep you safe

Pairing: Mafia!ot8! Ateez x f!reader

W.C: 3.3k

Genre: Fluff, Mafia, Romance

Warnings: mention of mafia deals, attempt to murder, blast, tracking device, spying on someone, tying up with rope in warehouse, unconcious, poison, feeling sorry, sad, comfort from mafias, lots of kissing, getting shot, mention of blood(not detail), confession, hidden daughter, scared idk what to add anymore

Network: @kvanity-main

.

A girl running in the rain, clutching her purse to her chest and heavily breathing while frantically looking in every direction. Her scared pupils and parted lips allowed the heavy and forced inhale and exhale of air, raindrops sliding into her mouth. Her heels were almost making her lose her balance, she didn't want to fall down or she would get caught.

The rainfall intensified with loud growling sounds of lightning. The only thing that was going through her mind was to run away from the two men following her. She took a sharp turn around the road and hid behind the car.

Pressing her palms over the mouth and wide eyes stared at the distant road ahead. Her house was still a few blocks away and the feeling of dizziness returned but she scooted into the darkness and suppressed her fear and the sound of her panting.

Soon, within a few minutes, the footsteps came into her vision. Two silhouettes making their way towards the alleyway and in fact, that needs to cross the car which was hiding her scared form. A series of hope and prayers rushed to her mind and fell from the lips and mentally supported herself to stay stronger.

The scared pupils followed each step they took. The moment they stopped and looked at her direction, her breath hitched and cursed under the breath when she noticed them coming towards her exact direction. But before she could shift an inch, someone pressed their palms over her ears from behind and then she could hear the sound of two faint gunshots.

"It's okay, y/n. you are safe."

The soft voice from behind you and the stranger's hands touching your skin made your eyes shoot open and you shuffled forward, keeping your distance from the person. The first instinct in you worked was to look over to the place where two men from earlier were but to your surprise, there was no one. You stood up from your place and quickly stepped out of the darkness and you screamed.

Two bodies were lying on the road. The two men who were following you while you were returning from the café were lying on their own blood pool.

"Hey, calm down."

The same voice again spoke up and you quickly looked behind to see a boy, maybe around your age, was standing with a little smile but to the contrast of his facial look, his outfit was different, oh the gun holder strap on his waist and the belt designed over his black jacket. He looked scary with an angel face.

"Who are you? Are you going to kill me? and and how do you know my name?"

He nodded to himself before taking a few steps forward but before he could walk any farther, you yelled at him to stop and the way you were scared, he instantly stopped. There were few other footsteps coming from both of your sides. One, two...three...seven figures appeared under the streetlight. The rain was still pouring but it was less intense than before as if it had also got scared by these men.

"Who are you all? What is going on?"

The boy who was standing a few feet away from you smiled again and introduced himself, "myself Yeosang. We are just here to take you back home."

"home? I don't understand what you are saying." You were pleading with him not to hurt you and a different boy from the seven figures surrounding you but keeping a safe distance from you spoke up, "there's nothing to be scared of, y/n. you are Mr. Lee's daughter and we are here to take you to his place."

They know my dad...they are here to kidnap me to know about my dad's business but......he is dead and I can't ask for help from him. I don't know anything about his mafia business.

"I don't know. I am not close to my dad. He is dead. What else do you all want now? I know nothing about him. Please, I am telling you the truth. You won't get to know anything from me about him. I really don't know."

"We know he is dead. That's why we are here to ensure your safety. We are here because your dad isn't there to protect you." The tallest one of them spoke up.

You shook your head and stepped back when the dizziness from earlier returned. It did get noticed by the oldest one of them and he caught your limp body, "y/n, it's raining. Let's go home and then we can discuss everything."

You pushed him from you and stood straight on your heels, "no, I'm not going anywhere. I can't trust you. You all are lying."

"Didn't your dad tell you about the leaders of his organization?"

" he did..."

"We are the leaders of the organization, the most trusted gang of your father, Ateez."

You stared at them because the name is familiar but why to take you to somewhere you never went before. Your life was always at risk and that's why your dad kept you hidden but maybe his death led to uncovering your identity to other mafia gangs. But if they are the leaders under your father's organization, that does mean they are on your father's side.

"you all are my dad's men?" you asked in a low voice. The drizzling rain was pinching your skin, should you trust them or not. The thought was itching your mind.

"We might be mafias but we are always loyal to our boss. Please come with us." The leader extended his hand with a smile.

And you trusted them.

Taking the leader's hand and grabbing it with a hope to be safe.

You never thought ever that this was going to change your trajectory of your whole life.

“We are here to keep you safe.”

>>>><<<<

In the bustling city, amidst the towering skyscrapers and bustling streets, there existed a huge, tightly-knit advertising agency called "THE GUERRILAS".  For two years, the agency had been led by a charismatic and respected boss, Mr. Lee Sohyun. His sudden demise due to a heart attack had left his men and the successive leaders reeling with shock and grief. Among them, Ateez, his loyal gang and the main future successors took the initiative to take over his place with announcing their gang leader as the new boss, who all had worked closely with him for over a decade. Every other being in the company supported the idea and welcomed the new project of the company.

As the agency mourned their loss, Ateez stumbled upon a startling revelation buried within Mr. Lee's personal documents – he had a daughter, Lee y/n, from a previous relationship. Despite his private nature, he had never mentioned the daughter to anyone at the agency. Determined to honor their late boss's memory and fulfill his unspoken wishes, Ateez embarked on a mission to find his daughter.

“I didn’t know he had a daughter.” Seonghwa stated while looking at the documents presented by his gang member, Yeosang. 

The leader, Hongjoong nodded, “He really hid her well but after his death. Many men betrayed him and leaked his personal information and the least we can do is to start with protecting his daughter.”

“Then let’s find Y/n. I hope we can bring her safely.”

Months of diligent investigation led them to a quaint town in the upstate, where you resided.

Their several initial attempts were failed missions.they certainly didn’t want to scare you but also not to give up in their enemy’s hand. So, they planned to approach you slowly and cautiously.

Unless that day when you were followed by members of an enemy gang and they saved you from danger.

And that day you accepted a new fate in your life.

Moved by Ateez's sincerity and touched by their efforts to connect with you, a wave of emotions hit your heart. Over cups of tea, you delved into heartfelt conversations with them, sharing memories and anecdotes about your father. Despite their vastly different backgrounds, you found solace in their company, united by the love for the man who had brought them together.

you listened intently to their explanation of the situation after your father's death, your emotions oscillating between disbelief and curiosity. As they shared anecdotes about your father's life and their time together at the agency, a bittersweet realization dawned on you – finally found a piece of your father's past that had long eluded.

"You don't have to be polite or formal with us. Think of us as your friends. You are our boss's daughter." The young boy smiled at you.

You chuckled, "Wooyoung, I'm trying. I think it would take time but this new place and new people and even staying with you all is such a new experience for me."

"You can come to me anytime. I am always here to accompany you and make you feel at home."he said and brushed his hair back. He glanced at you, who was smiling admiring the beauty of the garden. "Do you want to take your father's position?"

The question caught your attention and quickly turned towards him, you noticed him avoiding your gaze and gulping, "No." The answer was direct and simple.

He again questioned you, "why? Don't you think you are the actual successor of the boss?"

"I don't know a single shit about this life and also, I trust Hongjoong. You all proved your loyalty to my dad. You swear my protection and extend his hard work. So, you all are the actual successors." He nodded at your words.

"No cursing from a pretty girl." Yunho approached you two and handed over a sweater to you. You looked at him with a questionable look.

He held the sweater in front of you and urged you to put your hand inside the sleeves, "don't catch cold in the early morning while wearing just a full sleeve shirt. And Woo, can't you wear a full sleeve?"

The said man rolled his eyes at the tall one and sat on the bench with crossed legs, "I will be off to gym in half an hour. No need."

Yunho placed his hand on your shoulder, "would you mind a little walk with me?"

"Of course not. I would love to explore the neighborhood."

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months and you found yourself drawn to their warmth and resilience. You admired their strength in the face of adversity and their unwavering determination to carve out their own path in life and also protect you in the process.

In your presence, they discovered a sense of belonging they had never experienced before.

As their bond deepened with you, they grappled with conflicting emotions they never thought possible. They had sworn to themselves that they would take care of you, but their feelings for you were evolving into something more profound and complicated. Torn between their loyalty to the late boss and their burgeoning love for you, they found themselves at a crossroads.

"Surprise!"

The boys in the living room turned towards the voice. You were exiting the grand space of the kitchen area with a huge cake in your hold. Carefully, placing it on the table in front of them, you placed your hand on your hips and waited for their remarks.

The leader was the first person to tune in with the surprise, "what's a cake for?"

"You all did well on your last mission and for the past few days, all of you were busy so I decided to bake a cake for you all today as I noticed none of you left the house. No work?" You expectantly looked at them.

They exchanged a few glances between them and before Wooyoung could say something, Seonghwa smiled and got up from the chair. The royalty of the grand hall of the mansion was sitting right with his rich mafia look even in just a plain black shirt and pants. He approached you and patted your head, "we don't have work today. Do you have something to say? Or to do something?"

You nodded and turned towards the rest of them, "have a taste of my most ordered cake. Before moving in with you all, I used to work at the cafe in my previous place. And people requested this cake everyday."

"Really? Then we should taste it. We are getting the privilege to have a demanding item without showing our powers." The leader said between his endearment of tasting your cake. You cut them a few pieces and waited for their reviews.

They hummed in the delicious taste of the soft cake and you got a collective of compliments.

Yunho was the first person to ask for another piece, you happily cut him one. He watched your happiness. The way you reacted to each of their compliments, the nervousness and feelings shy but still managing to keep yourself steady.

Yeosang proposed the idea that they should open a cafe near their place where you can train some workers and also be able to have some time to spend in a different atmosphere other than staying at the mansion. Jongho supported the idea.

Mingi raised the topic of your safety but San volunteered to check on you often and won't let anything happen to you.

>>>><<<<

The idea did come to light and led to action. You got work to keep yourself busy when they are not around but this definitely lured a danger.

Someone kept a watch on you. The strange feeling was creeping in your skin but you neglected it with the thought that San might be somewhere out of sight and spying on the place for a possible danger.

Once when you went to the mall with Mingi and Jongho, you got bumped into a person and got a scratch on your arm with a sharp object.

"Are you okay, y/n?" Mingi's concerned voice appeared and held your arm. "Why is it bleeding? What happened?"

"Might have scratched something. Don't worry, it will heal soon."

Well your assurance was not enough for him. The way he handled you around the mall, asking you whether you're  uncomfortable or wanted something. You wanted a chill hangout not both of them to worry about you.

But the beautiful time you all were having got disturbed when you suddenly fell unconscious. They both were shocked but reacted quickly to take you to the medical wing of their base.

You were poisoned by that scratch. But it couldn't affect much and spread properly. You were under threat and needed more protection and they made sure of it.

"San, people are assuming you as my boyfriend at this point." You groaned after pushing open the door to your cafe. He rolled his eyes behind you and glared when he noticed a young boy staring at you both entering together.

He pulled a chair and sat near the counter where you were placing the things to start the day. "I don't care about their opinions. Your safety comes first. And-"

"Hey! I guess, I'm invited inside the cafe too." Jongho entered the cafe and winked at the man sitting. You nodded, "of course you are."

He didn't have any schedule for the day so opted for hanging out in the cafe. You turned towards San and asked for him to complete what he was saying but he shook his head.

The days went normal, nothing to worry about. Everything was going as usual.

.

.

.

"You three are also leaving?" You pout and lean back to the table. They chuckled at your reaction and Seonghwa approached you, patting your head with an adorable smile, "we will be back soon. And Yeosang will be here to accompany you."

"Can't you stay together every time? Or like take me with you all."

"No!" The leader put aside the black leather jacket and held your shoulder, "we are not risking your life. There's always danger. We won't be able to control ourselves if something happens to you."

"Oh...but I feel scared for you all too. Just take care of yourselves. I am not strong enough to protect you all but......atleast I can pray for you." You felt so useless and a burden on them but Yunho quickly chimed into the conversation.

"Don't think of yourself lowl. You are our strength. We come back home and do our best and succeed in our missions with the hope that a beautiful soul and a precious girl is waiting for us. Your trust in us is everything we need to be strong out there."

Yunho is always the one to ensure that you are valuable and worth the effort they make to protect you. His warm embraces really make you believe that,

You are in love. You are at home.

The leader is always impressed by his words and also reminds you that their biggest possession is you.

"No other expensive material in the household or in the universe can be worth your value." Hongjoong and his exaggerated explanations.

Seonghwa is the one who would treat you like a porcelain doll, as if you are his daughter. Well let's not be weird with this thought. He is someone to ensure your wellbeing now and then.

"You are safe with us princess. No one can hurt you ever."

To his addition, San will buy you everything possible just in case you are not happy with something. Once when a worker pointed out you as a spoiled girlfriend and called you ‘gold digger’, he took matters in hand.

Grabbing his collar and glaring at him as if he could burn him alive and bury him there, "of course you don't have the courage or power to spoil her. But your dirty mouth can spoil her ears. And I don't like when some bugs are near her."

This is not the end, Jongho is not the one to show his emotions often but you have always liked his goofy nature with you but the majority of the time when you go out with him, he is the most mature and serious one as if he is doubting every individual glancing at you.

"I think he is spying on us." He murmured.

"You are looking around the restaurant in a way as if you want to order the rest of the items on the menu card. That's why he is staring at us." You started and went back to eating.

Mingi is the one who is always volunteering to go out with you because according to him, he fights well. So if someone attacks then he could fight back and take you back home safely. He is sometimes a bit controlling like Yunho but rest, you love his company.

"No, we are going back home. No more talking back. I'm your protector and the mafia member so you have to listen to me now."

The most important one to mention, Wooyoung. His professional side and the side with you are just opposites. Well this settles with all of them.

He encourages you to try new stuff, teaches you some self defense and also the one to try out pranks on others. You always grew up alone and wanted someone like him to be your friend and once you shared this feeling with him. You are now beautifully cursed with his presence.

"Do you want to know how to shoot?"

"No no please, that is the most intriguing thing to me but I'm okay with not knowing it's working."

He rolled his eyes, "don't be dramatic. It will help you."

"You all are here for me and... ...I..I love- I love how you are mafia members but have individual personalities that protects me and keeps me safe. Moreover, you all make me feel loved by a family."

"We are your family."

They all say this everyday. And today is not an exception.

Yeosang was on his laptop. You wanted to go out but he was too busy to even notice that. Not to make him mad, you scolded yourself for thinking to go out behind his back.

"Is it okay if I have a quick trip to the convenience store?......please."

He looked up from the screen, "what do you need, let me bring it for you."

"No. I just want to go out because others haven't been at home for the last three days and as you are alone I'm not allowed out of this house."

Yeosang always stays back or tries to be the member to protect you while all others are needed on a particular situation or missions.

He chuckled and got up, "let's go. We can have the trip together."

Before arriving at the store, you both didn't ever imagine the incident that was about to happen.

As soon as you stepped inside the sliding glass door, he got a call and excused himself to a side and you were humming a song to yourself while searching for the items needed.

Then everyone heard a gunshot. Screams and footsteps erupted from inside and he quickly went to your direction behind the shelf where his eyes followed earlier but to his dislike, you were not there. The back door was open and he saw a black car leaving the place.

He quickly dialed Hongjoong's number to let him know about the situation and to come to the location quickly which he would send them soon. He borrowed the computer at the counter of the store and filled in the inputs with codes and required data and he followed a particular car's location from all the CCTV footage of the road of the tracking device and also his phone was tracking your ring, which has a high-tech induced chip.

Within a few moments Ateez reached the desired location, well they were not in a mood to come across the familiar place but still they had to when you are here.

Barging inside the place, an intense fight between both the mafia gangs started. San went to search for you, a bullet almost passed through his arm but fortunately he could avoid it but still he got injured slightly.

There, you were tied to a rusted metal chair and sitting unconsciously. He was quick to untie your ropes and held in his embrace while placing himself on the dirty floor. It doesn't matter, the important thing is for you to be safe.

"Y/n...you are safe."

You blinked your eyes open, first he noticed your scared pupils like he saw them on the first day but it quickly turned into soft and tears brimmed in. You were securely protected by his embrace on his lap.

The others entered the room and found you in that condition and they felt relieved that you were safe. They surrounded your figure, some praising you and some asking you if the enemies hurt you somewhere.

Even though you were denying, none was fully convinced.

No one blamed you. 

“I’m sorry…I should’ve listened to you all.” 

Hongjoong knelt in front of you and cupped your face, “it’s okay. We should protect you more. Just stay with us and don’t leave us ever. We are going to risk ourselves to protect you, the daughter of our boss.”

You held his wrist and shook your head, “Call me yours. Say you will protect me because I’m yours. Because you all don’t want to lose me.”

“Y/n…you are more precious than you think you are.” he said and pecked your forehead with adoration in his eyes.

Seonghwa knelt beside the leader and held your hand comfortingly, pressing a soft kiss on it. San shifted your body to make you feel comfortable in his hold. “Just know one thing, we love you not because you are his daughter but we are in love with you. We fell in love with an innocent girl.”

“I fell in love too……with you all.” you murmured and thought no one heard it except the three near you but you were so wrong because there was a boost feeling in the rest of them after hearing you. San kissed the crown of head and whispered, “I love you so much, y/n. It hurts whenever I see danger around you.”

Yunho was quick to sweep you off the floor and you squealed in surprise, “well, Tiny. as far as I want to show you my love for you right now. This place is making me anxious. Let’s go home.”

“To my safe place.” hearing your sweet words, he kissed the tip of your nose. Jongho smiled reassuringly at you that  even if enemies are trying to hurt you, they would rescue you but now as they know that the complicated feelings of theirs have been solved after the mutual acceptance, they won't be leaving your side ever.

When you all were about to step out of the room, a man held a gun towards Yunho, at you in his grip. He clenched his jaw but before anyone could process anything, Mingi was quick to hold his gun towards the man and stepped forward Yunho, hiding you both with his large frame and shot the man. 

He turned around and smirked, “now this is more fun to kill people because of you.”

You turned your face to the other side and could hear others laugh, “keep that shit away.”

“No cursing, tiny.” 

Mingi caressed your head before planting a kiss to the side, “you should at least know how to use it.”

Wooyoung led the way out of the warehouse and kept in check of any possible danger in their way.

Entering the car, you sat between Wooyoung and Yeosang when the youngest one of them entangled his hands with yours and you looked at him with a surprise, “hm?” he pressed a kiss on your cheek, “thanks for trusting us in your father’s place.”

“Thanks for keeping me safe like he did.”

“Even my shadow will protect you forever and my love will guide you back to home.” he put his head on your shoulder.

“ I know.”

When you turned to the other side, Yeosang was already staring at you and when he caught your eyes, he smiled, “I didn’t imagine this is how we would be confessing our feelings. But thanks for letting us know that you care for us too, like your dad.”

“I was so scared today. Because of all the lurking danger, I hated to be in this mafia life and my dad hid me from this dark side of the world but thanks to you all for saving me from the lonely world out there after his death. When I thought that today I’m going to die, the only last hope I had was one of you to save me. And you did. All of you did.”

He nodded and patted his shoulder, you obligingly leaned your head on it and he caressed your head softly, “we are always here to keep you safe and to love you forever.”

With cautious optimism, you all embarked on a journey of self-discovery and love, navigating the complexities of the newfound relationship with courage and resilience. Together, you forged a bond that transcended time and circumstance, proving that love could blossom in the most unexpected of places.

As you watched the view outside hand in hand, gazing at the stars above from the window of the car, all of you knew that love was a testament to the enduring power of connection and the infinite possibilities that awaited on the horizon. In each other's arms, you found solace, strength, and the courage to embrace the beautiful uncertainties of life's journey.

After all, you did the right thing. Accepting the extended hand of the leader and  being inside the boundary of protection and love.

Note: please I want to thanks to people for reading and reblogging. Reviews are always appreciated. Spread love not hate. If my favoritism is showing with some members then please try to understand oz they are my bias.

Taglist: @mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @anyamaris @yeoobin @icchyi @jwnghyuns @piratequeen-queenofgames @dinonuguaegi @oreharuuu @hwanring @sanwifesstuff @kiwiisnthereoops @kiwiraccoon @hyuukah @kazscara @aceofspadesbiofalltrades @nvdhrzn @meowmeeps @vtyb23 @haechansbbg

[open!]

[flowerandblood]

Hopes and Prayers (2/2)

[ canon • Aemond x courtesan • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, smut, angst, working in the brothel, mention of murder, kind of trauma ]

[ description: Even though she tries, Prince Aemond's sobbing face refuses to leave her thoughts and heart. Although she is convinced that she will never see him again, everything changes when she decides to go to pray in the Great Sept. ]

After a few seconds from the trailer that changed our lives, this little series was created. No more thoughts.

Part 1 − Flowers and Thorns

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

_____

They spent the rest of the night in complete silence, which, however, to her surprise, was not uncomfortable. Despite his lack of words, his embrace was not cold − his face was nestled between her soft, plump breasts, his fingers roamed her bare back, once in a while his lips placed a non-committal, gentle kiss on her exposed skin.

She knew it was an expression of his gratitude − of her not asking him questions, of her hands combing through his long white hair, her cheek nestled against the top of his head. They had fallen asleep in the morning in an embrace she might have called tender, but she dared not think of it that way.

She knew who she was, she knew he was in pain, and she knew he sought comfort in her, which she had no intention of denying him.

He got up as the sun rose, slipping gently out of her embrace, trying not to wake her.

On the one hand she felt disappointment that, like so many men before him, filled with shame and remorse after what he had done he wanted to leave without a word, on the other she understood him.

For a moment she wondered if she should just pretend as usual that she was asleep, but found that she wanted to look at him one last time.

She opened her eyes and blinked to see that, clasping the buckles of his tunic, he was standing over her head, looking at her. She saw the look of surprise and a grimace of embarrassment flash across his face − she raised herself on her elbow as he turned, moving aggressively towards the door and left without a word.

She swallowed hard, hearing that familiar, uncomfortable silence all around her, tears, as after every night like this, welled up under her eyelids at the feeling of emptiness that filled her heart. She looked down at her hands, letting them flow, letting the sadness drain from her body until the evening, when her face would once again be lit up with a smile for another shy man.

Her friends as soon as she joined them at the morning meal asked about the Prince and what kind of lover he was. She answered truthfully that he pleased her, that he was indeed shy and made a pleasant impression on her. The girls expressed jealousy that it was to her that this happiness fell and wondered if he would return here.

She felt a squeeze in her heart and discomfort at the thought.

She sensed that something was wrong − despite her attempts, welcoming new men inside her body, she thought of him − of what he had said when he burst into sobs.

I killed him.

Gods, forgive me.

She had never seen such a broken man before in her life − there were times when men confided in her or sought her advice, but he didn't ask for it − he had no one to pull the stone mask off his face in front of, even for a moment, and she witnessed it crack before her eyes.

She wondered if he had coped with what he had done, if the fact that he had felt the closeness of her warm, soft body that night had soothed the black emptiness that surely filled his heart now, even a little.

He didn't return for days, and she realised, feeling a kind of discomfort surging through her gut at the very thought, that he felt for certain embarrassment and shame at what he had allowed her to see.

She chastised herself in her mind for not letting herself forget him − she thought at first that perhaps it was influenced by his status, by what he could give her as a Prince, but then she realised that this was not true.

What he had done, his sobbing, the words that had involuntarily ripped from his throat that night had forced their way deep into her heart and refused to leave it, haunting her even in her dreams.

She prayed for him in the Great Sept; crossing the gates of that gigantic, ancient temple, she felt pure again, and a strange, solemn calm possessed her mind and heart. She would then approach the great candlesticks and kneel before them, repeating the same words each time.

Warrior, support me with your strength so that I do not lose myself in the world around me.

Mother, in your graciousness, surround me with your protection, receive me with understanding like your own child.

Maiden, purify me, make me feel light again, so that the weight of my sins may leave my shoulders.

Father, support one of your sons, the One-Eyed Prince, who has shown me kindness and who is suffering, with your strong hand, so that he does not fall under the weight of his own guilt.

That day, immersed in prayer, she paid no attention to the quiet echo of footsteps, accustomed to the fact that at such an early hour she was not the only one who wished to experience silent prayer in solitude.

She didn't open her eyes, focused on her own musings, feeling the pleasant warmth of the fire on her face until she felt someone stop behind her − she lifted her gaze up and froze, watching with her heart pounding in panic as he knelt beside her with a loud creak of wood, bowing his head, folding his hands in prayer.

She turned her face towards the burning candles feeling that the knees on which she rested the weight of her body began to tremble as did her hands, her quickened breath turning to steam within the cold walls of the temple, a drop of cold sweat running down the back of her neck.

She pressed her lips into a thin line, feeling tears under her eyelids, not knowing whether she should get up and leave or stay.

She closed her eyes, thanking the gods gratefully that he was alive, that they had listened to her pleas, that they had allowed her to see him once more.

She felt them run down her cheeks, hot and pink with emotion, one by one − she drew in the air loudly, trying to calm herself, focusing on his presence beside her, on the fact that their elbows were touching.

They continued in silence like this for a long time until he suddenly stood up, placing the hood of his grey coat over his head and turned to leave, without even bestowing a single glance on her.

She didn't know why this time it was she who burst out into silent sobs, why she hid her face in her hands, why she felt as strongly as never before in her life who she really was.

She was a whore who would never deserve anyone, who would never have a husband or children, who would work in some inn when she grew old, taken by force by her owner.

She thought about this as she returned to the place that had been her home for so many years − she had to use ice cubes to make the swelling from her tears come off her face. She looked at herself in the mirror thinking that a few more years and she would no longer be beautiful and young, her body would wither like a flower and with it her heart.

Who would believe her that she could have cared about anything other than golden coins?

Mothers used to teach their sons: never trust a whore.

She was not surprised.

In their place, she wouldn't trust herself either.

When she joined her friends and lay down beside them on the big red bed covered with curtains she bestowed on them a broad, warm smile. They told her about what they had been doing all day, about the new gowns Madame had allowed them to order, but her thoughts were far away, with him, in the Great Sept.

She shuddered when she heard Madame call her name and swallowed hard, standing up slowly, the girls escorted her away with curious eyes. She approached her guardian with a questioning expression on her face, she, however, merely pointed with her hand to the chamber she was to go to. She nodded her head.

"− I will prepare myself −" She said softly.

Madame shook her head.

"− he demands your presence immediately −" She said calmly, an expression of satisfaction on her face that she did not understand.

She blinked, surprised, thinking that someone was very desperate, but decided that perhaps it was better.

It would be over sooner.

She moved wordlessly down the corridor and walked into the chamber, freezing immediately when she recognised his silhouette standing by the window. When he heard her he looked in her direction, his gaze dark and piercing.

"− close the door −" He commanded, and she nodded quickly, doing as he ordered, feeling her whole body quiver. She swallowed hard, turning towards him again, not knowing what to do with herself.

"− undress and lie down on the bed −" He hummed, his voice deep and cold, making shivers run down her spine.

She nodded, looking at the stone floor, walking on trembling legs towards the bed, feeling small, helpless, humiliated for some reason.

Though she never did, she sat backwards on the bedding, giving herself any sense of privacy as she slid her thin, translucent gown off her body with a soft, light flick of her wrist.

She swallowed hard when she heard him draw in the air loudly as he approached her slowly, undoing the buckles of her tunic with a quiet click and rustle of fabric.

"− lie on your side with your back to me −" He said a little more softly, his low voice trembling with emotion, from which she felt a tingling heat in her lower abdomen.

She lay on the cold bedding, curled up like a small child, exposed and vulnerable, for some reason feeling that what he was going to do now would break her heart.

She sighed when, a moment later, she heard the bed creak and bend under the weight of his body, which lay behind her − she shuddered as his fingertips traveled along her arm to her waist, his full, warm lips placing a soft, wet kiss on her neck.

"− come here −" He whispered in a way that made her feel tears under her eyelids, with calmness and tenderness, as if he were speaking to someone he knew well.

She let him draw her closer as his hand slid from her waist to her lower abdomen and pressed her back against his bare chest, both of them sighed when his already hard, long erection slapped impatiently against her buttocks.

"− spread your thighs, sweet girl − I won't hurt you –" He muttered in her ear, his other hand, which he slid under her body gently teasing her nipple, puffy and popping from the sudden, unexpected, hot wave of desire that surged through her loins.

She obeyed his command, tilting her head back, his full lips clinging to her warm, pink cheek, trailing over her skin, leaving wet, sticky marks behind. He began to pant as his hand slid down from her belly between her thighs, finding her slickness, her plushy folds, wonderfully soft and moist, ready to welcome him.

"− just like that − let's caress this little cunt a bit before I put it inside you − hm? −" He gasped encouragingly, and she nodded quickly, feeling that her walls clenched around nothing.

"− y-yes, Your Grace − please −" She mewled, a loud, girlish cry breaking from her lips as his fingers dug into her leaking womanhood, teasing and rubbing her puffy bud, making waves of delightful heat flow through her whole body.

Her lively reactions and how ready she was for him made him impatient − she felt the fingers of his hand spread the folds of her slit to the sides as he moved his hips back with a soft motion, only to push the pink, fat head of his cock deep inside her a moment later.

They both groaned low, shocked at how intensely delightful the sensation was − she involuntarily spread her thighs wider, wanting to make it easier for him − he felt it, and with an impatient, deep thrust of his hips forced his throbbing length deep inside her.

They both began to pant loudly and quiver with pleasure as he imposed a fast, greedy pace on her at once, barely sliding out of her, opening her wide on his erection with loud slaps of their naked bodies against each other.

"− gods witness I was one step away from putting it inside you in the Sept − to profane that sacred place for this warm cunt −" He exhaled in a trembling voice into her ear and she felt his words deep inside her, in her nipples and in her lips − they both gasped as her walls began to squeeze him, intensifying his sensation, his hand clamped tighter on her hip, not slowing down.

"− ah − g-gods −" She mumbled, feeling her fulfilment building slowly inside her, the way her fleshy core clenched greedily and sucked him inside, soaking him wet.

"− did you want this? − were you so wet there, kneeling beside me? − were you waiting for my seed? −" He mocked, running his rough tongue over her exertion-sweaty cheek, his hand tightened warningly around her neck, suggesting she not dare lie to him.

"− yes − gods, forgive me, yes, yes, yes! −" She cried out, feeling the tears run down her cheeks as her tension peaked − her little cunt gave him a few more thirsty, strong squeezes before she heard him sigh loudly in pleasure, and then he became still, his erection pulsing hard inside her as his warm spend filled her.

"− fuck − mghmm −" He gasped out, clearly not believing himself at how wonderful the sensation was, his hands roaming over her body as if trying to soothe both himself and her.

He swallowed hard when he heard her cry; she heard him raise himself on his elbow and lift himself to look over her shoulder at her face.

He was silent for a moment, his hot, heavy breath enveloping her face.

"− did I hurt you? −" He asked, and she shook her head quickly, covering her mouth with her hand, feeling that she could not catch her breath, her body shook again and again with convulsions of pleasure and terror at the same time.

She felt him tentatively place his hand on her shoulder, stroking it reassuringly.

"− shhh − breathe, sweet girl −" He hummed and she nodded her head, trying to calm herself down. She sighed quietly when she felt him lay his head behind her again, his arms embracing her breasts and pressing her against his naked body, his legs sliding between hers.

"− I have paid for you − no one will touch you −" He whispered and she swallowed quietly, smiling involuntarily, feeling relieved at the thought that he had provided her with the comfort of no other man touching her this night.

"− I have conveyed to Madame that I do not wish you to live here any longer – for you to see other men − she will assign you rooms separate from the main quarters on my command −"

She blinked, freezing in stillness, furrowing her brow, trying to understand what he had just said.

She turned towards him and he lifted himself onto his arm, letting her look at his face, his broad hand gently caressing and squeezing her soft breast between his fingers.

"− I − I do not understand − Madame will only agree to one night −" She explained to him, not wanting him to be disappointed. His expression didn't change, a sigh of slight impatience left his nostrils.

Only after a moment did she realise that his half-soft manhood was still deep inside her.

"− I paid her for you − she sold you to me − you and your life belong to me now −" He said, a warmth and threat in his words at once, from which a shudder ran through her, the fingers of his free hand tracing over the line of her waist.

He bought her.

"− does that mean − does that mean I won't have to anymore −"

"− no − you are mine now − you will only share your body with me − do you understand? −" He asked dryly, as if he wanted to make sure she knew that one mistake on her part would cost her everything.

She nodded quickly, her eyes glistening with tears of disbelief, her swollen lips parted in a heavy breath.

"− good −" He murmured, laying his head next to hers, his nose snuggled into her hair. "− I wish to rest now −"

She nodded, turning away, letting this time the tears of happiness and relief flow down her pink, puffy cheeks, her small hands clasped around his arms with which he embraced her in her wordless gratitude.

He had taken her for himself.

She was his.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

How would platonic yandere king and queen of hearts react to finding out reader saved Alice and is finding a way to go back to their world?

You know what? I'll do you one better! 🖤🖤🖤🖤

Yandere Platonic Queen and King of Hearts (2)

“That’s p-perposterous! My darling child is right beside me, happily eating their lunch!”

The King of Hearts protests adamantly as the dorm mouse attempts to inform the King. Having missed the Queen’s charging envoy. You had to give the rodent props. The guts to try and drag your name right in front of your face to what she hoped was both the Queen and King of Hearts. 

To her luck though the Queen was not here so all she received was the King’s peaceful denial of her information. She huffed glaring at you with her beady eyes as though staring would prove her point. Fighting the urge to smirk you instead closed your eyes and continued to eat the meal provided for you. You weren’t really hungry but you doubted your…father would believe you if you were to say it out loud.

That being said you hoped Alice–who hadn’t found a growing cake or drink anywhere—stayed tucked in your pocket. When you were able to sneak to the bathroom to chat they suggested being allowed to run freely which you shot down. How many movies and stories had this exact situation happen where the small companion died or squashed because their giant friend wasn’t there to help. 

Still if you knew Alice best they were likely going to ignore you. Now with the dormmouse watching you couldn’t chance a glance at the pocket near your chest. 

“My child, what’s on your mind? You’ve been acting out of it since you mother’s gone to hunt.”

You cursed yourself internally. You must have spent too long thinking about Alice now you’ve gone an alerted the only one of your ‘new parents’ that tried to understand your emotions. Shaking your head you planned to wave him off. 

“I’m fine…Father I just am nervous.”

“Nervous? About what, my child?”

This was new. Usually at this point in the conversation the Queen of Hearts would have spoken up. Told her husband exactly what she wished you were feeling; as delusional as she was. But she wasn’t here and this was an opportunity. 

“Well as you know me and Alice know each other really well–”

“Yes I believe you did mention that at one point. Go on.”

“So I’m just a little sad that…Mother has decide to hunt them down.”

You watched the man’s bottom lip jut out in an unironic frown, his diamond shaped pupils darting from you to the other side of his face. No doubt, deciding who to please. If his hesitation wasn’t bad enough the dorm mouse decided to squeak up. 

“If I may your majesty the Queen knows best about the perpetrator Alice!”

“Oh yes that’s right!  A great idea young mouse!”

You wished to bring your foot down on the little rat or at the very least deliver a kick to their tiny traitorous little body. If it weren’t for his easy to sway persona he’d be perfect to convince in your quest to save Alice. But since this wasn’t working you’d have to try the other a bit more underhanded but necessary. 

“Well Father there was something else but it’s probably not worth even thinking about.”

You made sure to bat your eyes and look away sorrowfully which only fueled the King’s determination to soothe your ‘aching’ heart. Puffing his chest and holding you close, he was entirely eating this up.

“Tell me, Love! Has someone hurt you?! Something bothering you?!”

“It’s….my body, Father.”

Pretending to be bashful, you held your face in your hands. Hoping to hide your snicker at his flustered expression. Deciding to take him out of his misery you continued. 

“I wish it was .03 centimeters bigger than it is now.”

“Well I think you’re perfect the way you are!”

If he was actually your father and not the husband of a murderous queen, you’d be happy to hear that. But wherever Alice was, she needed this and no amount of comforting comments would be enough. 

“BUT I DON’T!” 

Faking a torrent of tears you folded your arms over your face leaning into the arms of the chair. Really trying to give off the image that you were absolutely devastated. 

“Don’t fret my Love! I have the perfect remedy for this!”

He happily skittered to the kitchen with you in tow, politely asking for the chefs to bring out the drink that could make you grow. The dormmouse, for whatever was still following sending a spiteful glare every now and then restraining you from taking a peek in your pocket. Despite your expectation you were not entirely sure if Alice was still there. But you hoped she was close by if only to sneak back around and get to it. In the meantime you had to improvise.

“Before I do this I’d like to see an example of it…”

“Oh well I shouldn’t try it. The Queen loves the size I’m at now!”

You had to have respect the man had a real loyalty to the queen and even better the rights of a King.

“How about you try it little mouse.”

“E-e-excuse me?”

“Give it a try for your new highness?”

“Ugh fine.”

The King let the mouse climb the table pouring a small amount into the cap of the bottle and sure enough the little mouse took on a few more inches. Technically you could stop here, the King would no doubt leave the bottle out but you figured extra insurance wasn’t too bad.

“What about if I don’t like it when I’m bigger?”

“Though you’d look perfect either way, we do always have some shrinking cake on stand by!” 

Turning around he pulled out the cake from a cupboard, where he naturally sliced a sliver of the cake to give the larger mouse. The mouse let out a squeak the equivalent of a sigh and downed a good amount of the slice. They let out a diminutive squeak when they looked in the reflection of the bottle.

“My King I don’t think this is the right–”

“Oh Father! I now realize you were right all along!” You made sure to speak louder than the mouse. “I am just fine the way I am if I do grow it’ll be because that’s the way I’m mean to be.”

The King clapped, hunging you tight. 

“Good! I’m so glad my child’s so proud of themself! Now let’s enjoy that strawberry cake your mother left for us!”

Escorting you out the kitchen you watched some of the card soldiers begin to chase off the small mouse. Hiding your snicker you went back to focusing on the King who was happily ranting about some plans of his. You weren’t really listening as you felt for a bump in your pocket—unfortunately finding nothing. 

______________________________________________________

“THAT OBNOXIOUS TRAMP!”

The Queen of Hearts’ voice rang out the entire castle, even though you were right beside her you could tell that was the case. You were once again eating a tray of tarts as the Queen raged to you and her husband about the terrible hunt. 

“Oh Darling, mind our child’s ears and why not have another tart?”

Her glare disappeared for a moment accepting the tart her husband held up to her painted mouth—after that it was right back to pacing. Wearing the undersuit of her armor and her makeup running just from being worn all day she still looked as beautiful as a picture. Even with her contorted face making an angry expression, you could see why the King of Hearts still swooned at her attention.

“Even the blood hounds found nothing but outdated scents! I tell you the mealworm has been all over my kingdom!”

“I see dear. Is there anywhere you haven’t checked?”

“NO I’ve checked every inch of the forest, everywhere in the garden, and even that insane Hatter’s party spot.”

“(Y/n) do you know where she may be?”

The question caught you off-guard, making you quickly wipe your mouth of some left over custard on your mouth. Stifling a cough as you down the rest of the tart in your throat you turned to him. 

Trying to hide the horror in your eyes, you asked him,”Why would I know?”

He tilted his head, his ever present smile on his face. His diamond eyes squinted in your direction, he continued. 

“Because she’s your friend isn’t she?”

It was then the weight in your stomach began to turn. Despite his meek behavior and wet-blanket status–next to the Queen–he was still a King. A King happily married to the Queen that was willing to remember the details she didn’t bother to remember. 

Swallowing the hesitation you shrugged it off, “ Well yeah but she doesn’t really tell me where she goes…she’s kind of always been a free spirit.”

You tried to say it nonchalantly aiming for another tart only to find the presence of the Queen far too close to your face. Expecting her to grab onto your chin, you flinched. Instead she let her painted nails graze upon your neck before caressing your cheek.

“(Y/n)-dear she doesn’t sound like a very good friend.”

It was said in a very calm tone, an alarming difference from her screeching before.

It was scary.

“I mean Alice and I have our differences but in the end we’re good friends.”

She continued to keep her hand on your cheek lovingly tracing the sides of your face.

“So you say…the other Wonderlandian’s threatened you for her right?”

…How did she know that?

“What?!” 

She seemed to chuckle at the terror on your face, placing a kiss on your temple. She brought both her hands to your cheeks letting your noses touch as she smiled in your face.

“You don’t think I haven’t been watching my child from the second you came through that door?”

She chuckled at your speechlessness holding your head against her chest, she hummed a little rubbing the top of your head. Hugging your side you felt the encapsulating hug on your opposite side from the King of Hearts who nuzzled his wife’s head.

“Of course we were watching (Y/n), we’ve cared about you since the beginning.”

“And we plan to never ever stop.”

This moment would have been sweet if you hadn’t been going through the catalogue of events that led to you being here. How much had they seen? How much did they already know? Surely they wouldn’t know where Alice was if they were asking…but the threatening? Even Alice didn’t know about that. 

“AAAAGHH! “OH MY DIAMOND!” 

“hELPP—AcK!”

The ground suddenly began to quake and sounds of shouting drew both the King and Queen away from you an to their balcony. You followed taking advantage of their surprise to wiggle between them both.

“Alice?!”

Turning her head in your direction, she waved as if she wasn’t practically the size of the castle. A spear shot from the ground bouncing off her thigh, which she retaliated by stomping on the whole platoon with the thrower. 

“AAALLLICCEEE! Off with her head!” 

The Queen of Heart’s was screeching again, practically calling on all her forces to pour out of the castle in that instant. Alice seemed to stumble from the new onslaught of guards hiking her legs up to avoid them. The quaking of the ground startled everyone forcing the Queen and King to rely on the walls of the castle; they reached for you missing your ducking from. In more worry than anything you ran to the guard rail, prepared to warn her about the cannons they were hauling out. 

“Alice! Watch out!”

She turned to you again face lighting up with an idea of hers. Intentionally stepping on the card guards she made her way closer to the castle–more specifically the balcony. Already catching on, the King shouted for you.

“(Y/n) get away from the railing she’s going to-”

“Woah!” 

Like you’d done before Alice cradled your form in her hands smiling down at you. Barely noticing the fearful ‘cease fire’ the Queen demanded you were carried up high as Alice cradled you against her chest. From the cover of her hands you watched her stick her pierced tongue out at the Queen before beginning to run off the premise of Queen’s castle grounds.

“Hang on tight (Y/n)! We’re going home!” 

At her booming voice you doubted she could hear your cheers. Still a small amount of doubt bothering your joy. 

If the Queen and King wouldn’t let you leave would anyone else?

[briebysabs]

I find it fascinating how much orv makes Kim Dokja and Yoo Joonghyuk live by the constraints of “reader” and “protagonist”. Like KDJ wants to see the ending but at the same time, he doesn’t and wishes the story would never end. Not simply because he loves this story but because he needs it like oxygen; TWSA gave him a purpose. He was its reader for 13 years and you notice KDJ never talks of what he’ll do after the scenarios until towards the end. There’s even a moment between him and Sangah where he ponders what he would’ve done if the novel never became reality. If he read the ending, closed his phone, and went back to his apartment. He contemplates if he would’ve killed himself, KDJ knows at least the sad truth that he wouldn’t have befriended Sangah. He’d never reconciled with his mother, he was getting laid off from his job in two days. From 15 to 28 TWSA was the only lifeline he had so think about it. What becomes of a reader when the story is over? One can discern, based on SP and OD’s conclusion, it is to find a new story. But Kim Dokja couldn’t bear to do that. To continue on, he needed to be a reader.

Lee Sookyoung wrote her novel to gain income for KDJ’s living but also to paint herself as the murderer. To sink the lie into KDJ’s head that she was the one wielding the knife. If the traumatized 12-13 years old Kim Dokja knew he killed his father by accident and his mother took the fall for him, KDJ would’ve killed himself. No doubt the guilt would kill him so LSK felt as though she had to do this. So that KDJ’s self-hatred would be aimed at her instead. She made her son a reader of his own life. It temporarily saves him, gives him some time but KDJ is still given a label “a son of a murderer”. His trauma was publicized and hyperfocused on, he was bullied excessively for it. That book is one of the factors that led to his first suicide attempt. So it doomed him.

HSY wrote TWSA to keep Kim Dokja alive. A desperate attempt to save a kid with one foot prepared to leap off a cliff. What else could she have done? She created characters that KDJ could aim his self-hatred at: Kim Namwoon, Anna Croft, the constellations, Nirvana. She made him a reader of a character’s life. Made him inject YJH’s essence through his veins like an IV drip. Of course, Kim Dokja wants Yoo Joonghyuk to be happy in the end. That is the main driving force between so many decisions he makes but where does leave him? The whole reason he attached himself to TWSA was because this protagonist was suffering too. But he kept on living round by round so surely, they could live through their shitty lives together. If the TWSA ended on that train, KDJ would truly be alone and might’ve killed himself. So what happens, the novel comes to life and gives him even more time. But because of that, later down the line KDJ will make the choice to become the Oldest Dream, a watcher for all eternity. Yes, KimCom’s world needed someone to dream for it to exist but even if that wasn’t necessary ... .do you think KDJ would have enjoyed a happily ever after discovering he was behind all their pain and tribulations? The guilt might’ve killed him, we saw some of that with his visceral reaction to OD. So it doomed him.

Kim Dokja has to be a reader.

Yoo Joonghyuk was created for Kim Dokja. This isn’t a shipping statement, this is just a fact. I think it’s foolish to believe that is all there is to his character, he’s his own individual and his journey throughout orv is keeping his autonomy and gaining agency. Outside of what he’s written to behave like or KDJ’s will for him. But his life’s purpose is to keep Kim Dokja alive. HSY wrote each of his regressions to save this one person. And this is where the 0th turn YJH comes in because he makes the decision to regress. He was happy in his world, that is true but he couldn’t truly rest because something was missing. Everything was idle, every day was peaceful after saving the world. But while yeah, KDJ was reading his story as always…he wasn’t being the protagonist. YJH needs to do something, he needs a goal to accomplish so he gives himself one. He regresses for three reasons: To meet his sponsor aka his reader Kim Dokja. To find out his purpose, what he was made for….which is to save Kim Dokja. And finally to fulfill his sense of self which is being a protagonist. Reaching self actualization and being an active force in the world around him. So fast forward when Kim Dokja’s fragments are scattered across the universe and the scenarios are over, why is it surprising that YJH falls into depression? Why is it surprising that he goes to HSY in the museum and seriously asks her to end his life? What becomes of a protagonist when there’s no one to read his story? What use is there for him? So of course he’ll be the one to venture on this suicide mission to space, hopping from one worldline to the next, grasping onto the fragile hope that KDJ can come home.

Yoo Joonghyuk has to be a protagonist.

[euphemiaamillais]

favourite crime - coriolanus snow

coriolanus snow loves you… but when he learns that he’s being sent back to the capitol—well, he can’t have any loose ends left back in district 12.

dark possessive!coriolanus snow x district 12!reader

cw: 18+//dead dove do not eat!!!//snuff//mentions of loss of virginity//mentions of murder//coriolanus snow’s disgusting inner monologue//murder//strangulation//piv sex//mentions of guns

reader discretion advised!! i do not condone any of these themes, this is merely a work of fiction

IB: @shellxrls

when you’d first laid eyes on private snow at the hob, you never would’ve thought you’d end the night with your lips wrapped around his cock. no, you were a good girl. you didn’t do things like that, and certainly not with strange men in darkened corners. but coriolanus was different. he made your core burn with desire, and your heart skip a beat every time his icy eyes flicked over you.

you spent many evenings with him—friday nights especially—legs spread, letting him touch you in ways you’d never known before. he liked that you had been a virgin; the thought of corrupting this stupid little district girl and turning her into his whore. you belonged to him now, and he’d have you whenever he pleased. you were nothing more than a hole to fill his desire with.

you were head over heels for him—so when he told you he’d been given a discharge to return to the capitol, he’d thought his pretty little doll would be delighted for him. you’d had fat tears streaming down your cheeks, mascara running—you’d worn it just for him, to look pretty—clutching at his arms and begging him to stay.

you couldn’t leave district 12, no. you didn’t belong in a place like the capitol.

the way you were begging was so pathetic; getting on your knees, weeping, voice strained with frustration. he couldn’t believe how he’d done this to a girl—lucy gray was never like this. when he’d left her for you she’d simply resigned herself to singing not-so-subtle tunes about how much of an asshole he was. well, at least before he killed her.

you were different. you were his little doll. his and his only. that’s why you had to return to the capitol with him—he’d have packed you into his bag if there had been enough room. it was a shame they didn’t allow for pretty whores to travel with the peacekeepers.

‘please, coryo,’ you cried out, hands clutching at his trousers. ‘don’t leave me, i- i love you!’

your attempts at flattery were ridiculous, but in a way he knew that you did love him. he didn’t love you, exactly. he loved knowing that he possessed you, that your heart entirely belonged to him. but he could never love a whore from the districts—especially not 12 at that.

‘is my bunny sad that i’ll be going home?’ he cooed, clutching your chin with his large hand. you were so small. he could break you if he wanted to…

‘mhm. gonna miss you so bad, coryo,’ you gazed up at him with wide-eyes—they looked so innocent as they glistened with the tears of your upset.

‘gonna miss your cock, and your tongue…’ you sighed wistfully. ‘gonna miss riding you and having you fuck me full of your cum.’

your lips are turned into a pretty pout, and he wonders then and there whether or not he should get his cock out and shove it past them. make you drink up his seed one last time. or perhaps he could bend you over his bunk and put a baby in you—then you’d always have something to remember him by.

no—that would make you a loose end. and he can’t have loose ends. you can’t know that he shot the mayor’s daughter because she pissed him off too much—or that his songbird, lucy gray, now lay somewhere at the bottom of the lake by the cabin.

he decides he can spend one last night with his little bunny. just one night. but then he’s clearing up loose ends. you’d never assume what he had been planning, no, you’re far too dumb to understand that. you see the good in everyone; and that made his chest burn with fury. how could you be so fucking innocent?

‘bunny…’ his voice trailed off. you nod, awaiting him to tell you something, anything—did he love you too?

‘i’ve got an idea. one last special night, just the two of us, hm? down at that cabin by the lake,’ he stroked your cheek. how sweet you looked like this, all red in the face. ‘i’ll give you a night worth remembering. let you sit on my face.’

you gave him an eager smile, and he knew his little bunny was just too stupid to know she was falling into his trap.

—

this was where he’d killed lucy gray, too. that had been a cold, rainy day. just like this one. you’d been so easy to lure into his trap; meeting him by the hanging tree in your prettiest dress—one with tiny pink flowers that came just above the knee. you’d even tucked a flower behind your ear. how sweet.

you couldn’t wait to spend your last night with coryo. you’d been singing all day, and practically skipped to meet him with a little bag full of some food and your toothbrush. you’d flung yourself into his arms, not caring about the consequences of being caught with a peacekeeper. he’d be gone by tomorrow morning anyways.

the walk to the cabin had tired you out considerably, and so you clung to coryo like a pathetic little bunny, letting him lead the way. you’d miss clutching his biceps, feeling the taut muscle beneath his shirt, the way his dog tags slapped against your face as he pounded your cunt raw.

he delighted in the way he’d get to have you one last time, tonight. that at some point, the only thing warm in your body would be his cum, leaking out of that tight cunt of yours. even though you were stupid, he did have to admit that your willingness was something he adored. the way he could just fill you up at any time, and in any hole—you never complained.

he’d corrupted you, watched you bleed as his big cock stretched you out that first time. he loved the way your eyes swelled up with tears and you begged him to stop—‘it hurts, coryo!’ you had clawed your nails into his back. ‘too big!’—but he didn’t stop. he knew you had to learn to take it, and that you did. you had such low self-esteem, you would practically grovel at his feet everytime you so much as made him frown. you’d do anything for him, and that was the way he liked it.

complete control.

the cabin was warmer than the tender breeze outside, and you were so grateful to get in there, shivering in your little dress. coryo had dressed more appropriately, in his day clothes, and he watched as you shivered. god, you were so helpless.

he set his things down, and when you had laid down on the bed to rest your eyes for a while, bundled up in the ratty old blanket, he checked under the floorboards. there it was—one last gun, wrapped in a green cloth. if you tried to run, he’d use it on you. he’d deliberated over which way to kill you, which way wouldn’t damage that pretty little face of yours.

he thought that one simple shot to the chest would do it—it would be instant too. but he wanted to watch the life drain out of you, watch as you whined and begged for him to save you. watch how your brows would furrow and your eyes would grow wide with fear and realisation that you were just another loose end to him. he’d never loved you. he’d loved the control.

but coriolanus had also debated choking you out—maybe he wouldn’t remove his cock from your throat while he fucked it, and pinch the tip of your nose so you’d stop breathing. how pretty you’d look, trying to take his cock and at the same time, fight for your life. he’d shoot his hot load down your dead little throat once you’d stopped breathing. a reminder that you were his, and no one else’s.

no, he couldn’t let you live.

he shut the floorboards when he heard you stirring—you must’ve fallen asleep. how sweet. in a few hours you’d go to sleep one last time—but it would be an eternal slumber. he wanted nothing more than to bring you back to the capitol and make you his little whore—you couldn’t be his wife; think of the shame and embarrassment that would bring. but you could be at his every beck and call, be there to relieve any tension he had. it was just so unfortunate that he wasn’t allowed.

he’d put your body to rest with lucy gray’s, down in the lake to let your pearly white bones be the fishes’ dinner. he couldn’t bury you out in the woods; they’d find you there, one way or another. instead, he’d let them think you’d just disappeared. people disappeared out in the districts all the time. especially stupid little girls. who would care if a pathetic runt who took peacekeeper cock vanished? he doubted you had many friends, and your parents were both dead.

you wouldn’t be missed.

it was some time later that you woke, and your stomach grumbled. coriolanus was sitting in the rickety old armchair, carving what looked to be a spear with his pocketknife. you watched his muscular arms move back and forth as he stripped the stick of its bark. something about his strength made your thighs burn.

you got up, bare feet cold against the wooden floorboards, and peered into your bag. you’d made enough food for the evening; you had even splurged and gotten yourself a precious block of cheese. you figured it was only appropriate, what with it being your last night together and all.

he looked up from his makeshift weapon—though it wasn’t all that, really—and gave you an award-winning smile. your heart leapt at his sweetness. you couldn’t believe he wanted to spend one last night with you.

‘you’re so pretty, bunny,’ he remarked, watching as you laid out the food.

there was bread, a few flimsy butter knifes—you’d not be able to defend yourself with those; besides you were just so weak. you’d even snuck a bottle of wine at the market when the peacekeepers weren’t looking. you wanted it to be special, to send him off happy and thinking of you.

your chest twinged with a heavy sadness. you wished you could go with him, follow him to the capitol and maybe, stupidly, marry him. you wanted to be his forever. you’d give him lots of children and they’d have white-blonde hair and icy blue eyes. you’d make sure he was satisfied every day, and cook and clean and whatever he required of you.

but you were to remain here, in district 12. marry a man covered in coal who worked himself to the bone in the mines. have skinny little babies who starved from the lack of food, struggle tooth and claw just to put dinner on the table every night. your time with coriolanus had been your only taste of luxury, of richness. he’d told you how in the capitol, there were buildings that reached the sky, and that every night people would feast on the finest food from the districts. you were reminded, with your own hunger pangs, the sacrifice that you had to make.

no, you’d never be good enough for him. future president of panem.

‘coryo, come eat,’ you said, standing proudly beside your food which you’d laid out neatly on the table.

he obliged—he was hungry, after all. he’d not eaten since last night. the food looked tolerable too, and the bottle of wine tempted him to be more considerate. just so his little bunny wouldn’t be suspicious. he doubted you were clever enough to figure out his intentions anyways.

‘i hope you like it,’ you remarked meekly, sitting down beside him and beginning to devour the food.

he opened the bottle of wine, and although it was completely uncivilised, he took a large swig. it was terribly sour, not like the good stuff they had in the capitol. he reckoned you’d never even tasted real wine. how pathetic.

‘how lucky did i get, with my little bunny,’ he smiled, stroking your head fondly.

‘i’m the lucky one,’ you said in your saccharine tone. he wanted to roll his eyes—you were so sickeningly sweet. ‘you’ve been so good to me, coryo.’

‘yeah?’ he asked. he liked how much you sought to stroke his ego. it made his cock hard the way you were just so utterly desperate to please him in every manner.

‘mhm,’ you said, chewing on a piece of bread. the cheese made it taste so delicious; sweet and creamy.

‘does bunny like the way i always give her whatever she wants? fill her up with my cum just like she asks?’ he watched as your cheeks burned red with abashed shame.

‘coryo…’ you whined, pressing your thighs together.

he loved the way you were already squirming, just from the mention of being fucked. what a fucking slut. he bet you had soaked through your panties, just waiting from him to bury his cock deep inside you as you whined for him to go harder. he’d show you harder. perhaps he’d wrap his big hands around your tiny, little neck, and squeeze too hard. god, you’d look so pretty with the air sucked out of your lungs, gasping and panting as he filled you up one last time.

‘oh bunny, don’t tell me you’re wet already?’ he cooed, standing up from his chair.

whatever, he didn’t really need to eat anyways. he couldn’t possibly be hungry when he’d been feeding himself with the own sick ideas in his head. food could wait—he’d need to tend to his little bunny first.

you nodded dumbly, clenching your thighs as the slickness pooled in your panties. you couldn’t help it, it was your last night with coryo. you wanted him more than anything else, more than you ever had done before.

‘p-please,’ you whimpered pathetically.

‘does bunny want me to fuck her? make her cum?’ he laughed, stroking your smooth arm. you were so warm. so full of life.

‘mhm, yes,’ you moaned, slipping one hand between your thighs to rub at your aching clit.

seeing this, coriolanus yanked your hair, causing you to gasp and sputter. how dare you touch yourself? you were his! his to have and do as he pleased with! you felt a few tears spring to your eyes, and he laughed, seeing how stupid you looked, weeping because he pulled your hair. he wondered how much you’d cry when he squeezed at your airways; watching them constrict between his big hands.

‘you know my rules, bunny,’ he clucked his tongue in disapproval. you glanced up at him, his icy eyes singed with coolness.

‘i’m sorry, sir,’ you replied. that name made his cock stir. he couldn’t keep himself from devouring you for much longer.

he dragged you from the chair and shoved you down against the bed. you were giggling and gasping like a little fool—it made his blood boil. you wouldn’t be laughing when your heart pumped with its last beat and your legs went still.

‘be a good girl, bunny,’ he commanded, trapping one leg between your thighs to stop you from grinding against the mattress.

you watched as he unbuckled his pants—he was never one for dawdling, preferring to get straight to the point—and eyed his bulge hungrily. you wanted to use your mouth on him, feel him stretch your lips out and fuck your throat as you gagged on his length. you’d miss how big he was—so big that you often ached for days after he fucked you.

he cupped your chin in his hand again, and pressed a kiss to the corner of your jaw. he had no intention of being gentle with you, this final time. you were merely his to use for pleasure. a little fuckdoll to fill up with his cum.

you moaned as he pulled his boxers down and his cock sprang free. you would never get used to the sight of it—the huge, throbbing thing. you couldn’t wait to have him bury it inside of you, feeling it nudge against your most sensitive spots.

‘need you, coryo,’ you panted. ‘need you in me.’

you pulled your panties off, feeling your own slickness pressing at your inner thighs. coriolanus grabbed the base of his cock with one hand, and pushed you down against the bed with the other. he wanted to take you like this, so he could watch the life drain out of your eyes, one last time.

‘gonna fuck you so good, bunny,’ he mused, hiking your dress up and sighing at the sight of your wet cunt. he would miss it, he did have to admit. what a shame it wouldn’t get wet for him anymore in a few hours. but if he couldn’t have you, nobody could.

‘mhm,’ you gasped as he pressed the tip of his cock at your sopping entrance.

god, you were so pathetic. so wet for him, so fucking desperate for his cock. he knew you probably wouldn’t have even let anyone have you, after he left. but he couldn’t bear the thought that somebody could take advantage of you, coax you into their bed and let them bury their cock in you. no, your cunt was his only. nobody else could dare touch his bunny.

he groaned as he pushed himself all the way in, feeling your walls stretch around him. you were still so tight, even after all the abuse to your hole with his big cock, the way he stretched you out, you were still tight as the first time he’d had you. you didn’t complain as much anymore though, not like you had that first time—weeping for days after with the dull ache of being fucked.

coriolanus began to thrust, grabbing your hips with firm hands, bucking into you with lusty vigour. your tits bounced in your dress, and you couldn’t help but gasp and mewl each time his cock bucked into your tight hole. his cock throbbed, feeling you clench around him, the way you sucked him in with your slick want.

he’d never forget this night. the last time he’d have you. the way you were so utterly perfect.

‘taking me so well,’ he grunted, watching as you moaned at the pleasant feeling of his big cock burying itself deep inside you, brushing against your cervix.

‘harder,’ you gasped, clutching at the sheets. you wanted to know you were his.

coriolanus couldn’t resist this, of course. he wrapped your legs around his waist, and plunged himself deeper into you. his balls were slapping against your perineum now, and the cabin filled with the reverberation of skin against skin.

you kept gasping and begging as he drove himself into you. you could feel yourself edging closer—you’d been so wet the whole way here, you were soaking at the thought of him having you one last time.

it was beginning to piss him off, though, the way you were being so loud. normally, he loved it, your moans letting everybody know how well he was fucking you, branding you as his own with his cum. he wondered what you’d do if he choked you right now—would you attempt to run? if you did, he’d get that rifle and shoot you. he couldn’t risk having you running about district 12 when somebody else could get their hands on you.

no more loose ends, he reminded himself.

he reached his free hand out, caressing your cheek, and then trailing them down to your neck. you giggled as he wrapped his fingers around your neck—it was so little that his whole hand could fit you inside of it. he’d choked you before, and so you didn’t assume anything of it. he pressed lightly, and you let out a sigh, body humming with want.

‘good girl,’ he mused, pounding you with his cock at the same time.

you let out a pretty moan, pussy clenching just right around him; he couldn’t help but grunt at how pleasant it was. you’d probably still be tight for a few hours after he kills you. maybe he’d fuck you again, but you wouldn’t be warm, or wet. just cold. he decided against it. he’d fill you up with his cum just as the life drained out of your eyes.

he pressed harder, and you feel your breath catch in your throat. it hurts, and you glance up at him with a worried look, eyes stretching wide. he doesn’t pay heed to this, and merely keeps thrusting, moving your hips closer to his to hit at a new angle.

he saw your breathing go rapid, and your eyes dart about the room in panic. poor bunny. he really didn’t want to have to kill you, but you can’t be his forever, and how can he accept that? if you’re dead, you’re nobody’s but his. especially since he’ll fuck his cum deep into your stiffening body; you’ll have part of him in you forever.

he could hear the sounds of your vocal chords straining as he clasped tighter at your throat. it would be a shame that you’d be left with a rosy imprint of his fingers around your neck, but it made him smile a little, that you’d be branded with his mark until you rotted.

‘coryo!’ you whimpered, clawing at his chest.

‘shhh, be quiet, bunny. take my cock like a good girl,’ he murmured, slamming into you.

it hurt—the way he was crushing your neck, your tendons beginning to strain around his touch. it felt like there was no air left in the world; you were beginning to grow tired, your breaths haggard.

‘p-please,’ you felt tears spring to your eyes, and watched as he laughed, a maniacal grin creeping across his lips.

he shook his head, grunting as your walls contracted around his cock. he was so close, but you were being a bitch and taking too long to die. he clamped down on you harder, causing a gasp to escape your lips. you couldn’t speak—your hands were clawing about desperately, legs flailing about.

you were terrified—what was he doing?! why did he want to hurt you? just minutes ago he was telling you how much he wished you could come back to the capitol with him and be his wife. he wanted to dress you up like a pretty doll and make you grow fat with his children.

‘don’t cry, bunny,’ he laughed, watching as your legs stilled.

you were so tired. it felt like there was no blood in your legs; they grew stiff and numb. your head spun.

‘you’re all mine bunny, forever,’ he smiled as your body grew limp.

you were terrified—eyes beginning to lose their shine, lips trembling with fear. you couldn’t feel your arms now, or the way he was bucking into you. his thrusts were slower now—he was close. watching the life drain out of you made his blood course through his veins with a delicious speed.

you mouthed out a ‘why’ as your body went completely frail. in one last act of betrayal, your cunt gushed around him as he squeezed your neck; airways completely constricted. your lips were beginning to blue now, and he frowned—he had really liked how plump and red they were when you sucked him off.

coriolanus felt himself finish; cock shooting thick loads into your still-wet cunt. he couldn’t help but grunt as he spurted himself into your pretty hole. the way you’d finished just as your heart had stopped beating and your lungs had given out. your final breath wasted on cumming. you really were a whore.

he ran his hands over your body, frowning at the ugly ring around your neck. at least he didn’t have to deal with your blood. that would’ve been so fucking messy. having to mop it up, and the way you would’ve screamed. at least you couldn’t scream when his hand was clamped around your neck.

when he pulled out, he watched with sick delight as his cum spilled out of your pussy. the thick, pearly loads trickled down your thighs. your limbs would be pliable and floppy for another two hours, but he couldn’t bring himself to fuck you again. that was too far, even for him.

he looked at your face, which was stretched into one of fear. your eyes were still, but wet with the tears. so were your cheeks—they still retained that innocent rosiness which he so loved.

he wished lucy gray had looked so pretty when he’d killed her. she’d screamed when his bullet pierced her chest cavity, and she’d bled all over his jeans as he’d held her. you were so docile, even in death. you’d given him one last thank you when you’d came, and he knew you’d be his forever.

darling, dearest, dead. the words rang clear in his head. he’d read them in an old novel. they were fittingly appropriate for the situation. it was so sad that he had to kill you, but it was a bitter and necessary pill to swallow. he had to return home to the capitol, marry that bitch livia cardew, and set his sights on what mattered most.

you were just a little doll he’d had his fun with on his summer vacation—you were just a poor district girl. what did you matter? nobody would miss you, and when he became president, nobody would know that he’d watched the life drain out of three pathetic girls.

that would be terrible for his image. he did what needed to be done. his pretty bunny would be his forever, and he’d secure his place in the world.

no more loose ends.

[kakitetan]

Yandere! Glisten x GN! Reader | His One And Only Desire

Synopsis: Toodles was helping Dandy with some work in the museum and gets lost. You decide to help Rodger find her, which inspires other toons to help find her. Along with all this, one by one, everyone gets infected by ichor. You're the last one, and you find Glisten.

WARNING: Contains mentions of gore, obsession, stalking, murder, torture, and child endangerment. Your discretion is advised.

You were a toon, and so were your friends. There were eight, then seven, then six. Then one, you. You were the last one, you regret it. You should've listened, but with that optimistic mindset, everyone had disbelief. You made a mistake, you didn't even know what death was before this, and that reflection of innocence was shattered. Staring at your reflection in the haunting elevator, was a constant reminder of how this all began...

"What? Toodles is missing?" You repeated, "I'm afraid so... She went to help Dandy with some machines. I have to go look for her." Rodger spoke, and you felt for him. Toodles meant a lot to him, he was practically a father figure. Plus, she must be so scared! The museum is so big!

"I'll come too!" You said, "Why, I might as well tag along." Glisten spoke up, inspiring your other friends to tag along as well.

You never saw it coming...

"Great! I can help supply you guys, why now there's nothing to fear! Toodles will be just fine!" Dandy said.

Why was it that Dandy was never worried in the first place, he just grinned at you and your friends. All he wanted in exchange for his help, were some tapes and supplying the museum with an odd black fluid. Dandy always had a smile on his face, no matter what the situation. He seemed almost amused by the difficult situations you seemed to constantly find yourself and the rest of the toons in. It was unnerving, the way he could remain unruffled when everyone else was in a state of conflict, and his confidence bordered on arrogance. With his relaxed attitude, he was the star of the show. He acted like it too... All he wanted in return for his help was some tapes and the occasional delivery of a strange black fluid to supply his museum's exhibits.

On the first floor, Boxten found Toodle's plush. Toodle's beloved plush toy lay abandoned on the floor, its battered stuffing peeking out of a tear in its side. Boxten paused to pick it up, feeling a pang of sympathy for its owner. The worn edges and faded fabric hinted at many nights of comfort and companionship.

"She would never leave this lying around," Boxten spoke, giving the plush to Rodger. He had no words.

We had never experienced anything like fear, grief, or anything like that. We had lived a life of privilege, shielded from the harsher realities of the world. The closest thing to sadness we ever experienced was Shrimpo's bullying. That was tame compared to the sinking feeling of loss, and fear. It was strong, it took the words right out of everyone's mouths. But nothing could have prepared us for the feeling that washed over us at that moment - a heavy, sinking sensation that left us all breathless and afraid. We stood there, frozen and speechless, as the realization of what was happening slowly sank in.

When we got back to the elevator, Poppy tried to lighten the mood. Poppy, ever the optimist, attempted to alleviate the tension by making a light-hearted remark as we gathered in the elevator.

Boxten's voice cut through the silence as he voiced his concern. "I'm scared maybe we missed something on the last floor," Boxten spoke.

"Boxteeenn! You worry WAAAAYYYYY too much! Everything's gonna be okay!" She cheered.

Boxten's voice cracked as he countered Poppy's question. "We didn't check everywhere, what if there's something important we missed?" His words hung in the air, the fear of the unknown hanging over him heavier than the silence.

"You're doing it again!" Poppy replied, causing some of the toons in the elevator to laugh.

The next floor took us by surprise as we came face to face with copies of ourselves. They were aggressive and unsettling. Twisted Boxten let out a distressing, gurgling sound as if he were submerged in water. It was a chilling noise that lingered in your mind long after the encounter. Your arm was still scarred by the arms that grew out of his box.

Out of everyone to take it harshly, it was Boxten.

"I can't-- can't do this!" He was pacing in the elevator.

"Boxten... It's okay." Poppy spoke, placing her hand on his shoulder

"No! It's not, Poppy!" Boxten snapped, slapping her hand away. She gasped.

Poppy stared at him, her eyes brimming with tears, reflecting the deep well of emotions within her.

"Alright, enough. It's hard for everyone, let's just stay calm. I'm sure Dandy will know what to do." Rodger spoke, it calmed everyone down, but that was only temporary.

We never did get an explanation...

"What? Monsters? What are you guys talking about?" Dandy spoke.

"There's been monsters of us, explain yourself," Glisten leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms in a display of defiance as he spoke.

"Now now, there are no such things as monsters. That's only in nightmares, right, Astro?" Dandy replied to the group, Astro held up his blanket to cover his face. Astro didn't like being put in the spotlight.

"Why don't you all give me the tapes, and I'll give you some candy in exchange?" Dandy spoke.

And before we knew it, it became a cycle. A repeating cycle.

We lost Poppy first.

"Boxten!" She yelled, trying to reach out for him. He saw a twisted version of himself, grabbing Poppy, and then eating her alive.

"BOXTEN! HELP ME! IT HURTS! BOXTEN! HELP ME!" She screamed, blood filling her lungs. Her screams became more gurgled, he watched in horror.

His little legs trembled in fear before he ran off from her mutilated body.

After that encounter, Boxten fell silent. It seemed as though he had relinquished his voice, leaving the air heavy with his unspoken words. The departure of Poppy and Boxten only seemed to thicken the atmosphere.

Before the elevator door opened, Goob took out a box of bandages and bandaged your cuts. He carefully began to unwrap them and apply the adhesive strips to my injured wrists, wrapping them with a gentle and practised touch. His hand slumped back and forth to each one, he always had a bit of difficulty controlling his arms.

"I couldn't help but notice your arm was bleeding." Goob smiled at you, you smiled back.

"Thanks, Goob! You're the best." You spoke with a grin.

We tried to defend ourselves from the twisted versions of our friends, but it became clear that they were stronger, faster, and more dangerous than us. Every blow we landed was met with a counterattack, every dodge was followed by a swift and brutal strike. We fought desperately, trying to keep them at bay, but the twisted copies seemed almost untouchable. Our every move was countered, and our attacks met with swift and brutal responses. Every time one of us gained an advantage, the twisted versions would quickly find a way to turn the tide back in their favour.

"It's okay! I'll distract them." Goob offered, carrying the line of twisteds. His self-sacrifice helped keep many toon's fear at bay, however, that didn't last long.

Goob left next...

Astro found his mutilated body, Astro's normally shy demeanour was replaced by a quiet resolve as he stumbled upon the mangled body of his friend. Astro closed Goob's eyes, a silent tribute to the fallen toon, before forcing himself to move on and continue onward, dragging his blanket along.

The elevator became quieter after those three were gone... The air felt thicker than ever before. The elevator ride to the next floor was sombre and still, the loss of our friends weighing heavily on everyone left. The air felt thick and oppressive like a heavy blanket suffocating any attempts at lighthearted conversation. Every glance at each other felt like a constant reminder of the reality of the situation.

As everyone diligently worked in quiet concentration, you found yourself engrossed in turning a pipe handle. Lost in the repetitive motion, your heart leapt into your throat and you were brought crashing back to reality, you were startled out of my trance by a sudden, piercing shriek. The ear-piercing shriek took us all by surprise, jolting us out of our thoughts and back into reality. No one spoke aloud, but the shared look of alarm and confusion was enough to tell me that we all felt the same way - startled and uncertain as to the source of the noise. Footsteps pitter-pattered into the room.

"GOOB! You're back! I just knew you were okay!" That sounded like Scraps..

You walked out of the room you were in, into the large corridor. Scraps was running over to the twisted version of her brother.

"SCRAPS, NO!" The words ripped out of your throat like a furious roar, and you were filled with urgency as you saw her charging towards danger. Your voice was raw from the force of my yell, and though it burned your throat, you couldn't let her put herself in harm's way.

Goob picked up Scraps, squeezing her mercilessly, tightening.

"No! NO!" You yelled as Goob grabbed Scraps and squeezed her mercilessly.

"GOOB! It's too tight! You're hurting me! IT H--" Scraps yelled, her little body straining under the pressure. Scraps' screams were abruptly silenced by a sickening SPLAT. Her blood, flesh, and cartilage stained the walls. Scraps of flesh splatted onto you, but your hand was still reached out for her. Her body parts fly off from the impact, hitting every surface imaginable.

But Scraps didn't exist anymore.

As you took a step back, Goob appeared unfazed by the fact that he had just taken the life of his sister. With a chilling calmness, he extended his arms towards you, and in a panic, you turned and sprinted back towards the elevator, desperate to escape the terrifying scene. The doors close behind you with a metallic clank, providing a momentary reprieve from the horror that awaits outside. But even as you attempt to distance yourself from the carnage, the echo of Scraps' final moments lingers.

One by one, everyone left this world.

Everyone except for you, you aren't even sure why you're still going. In a trance-like state, you exit out of the elevator. You had been alone for a while, so suddenly hearing a familiar voice speak caught you off guard.

"D-Did I just hear someone?" Glisten spoke.

You never ran so fast, running over to him. Your heart pounds fiercely in your chest as you approach Glisten. Your speed slowed down as you saw his appearance, half of his face was broken, and his hands were tied by his belt. Half of his face is disfigured beyond recognition, and Glisten's torso is mutilated., a mangled mess. He looks up at you with vacant, hollow eyes, the light within them extinguished forever. Blood trickles slowly from the gaping wounds, staining the floor beneath him. Despite the horrific sight before you, you can't help but feel a pang of pity for this once graceful man reduced to have such a horrific fate.

You felt vomit in your throat, tasting a bit of the candy you had earlier. The sight of ichor instantly made you sick to your stomach. Causing your stomach to churn violently. Your body recoils instinctively, refusing to accept the sight before you. Ichor, the thick, dark fluid of life, spills from Glisten's wounds.

His voice, once commanding and confident, now comes out as a weak plea. "Oh, it's you.." he murmurs, barely above a whisper. "Stop! Please don't run!" Glisten begged, stumbling towards you, his movements slow and laboured. One of his eyes is a ghastly shade of pink, the other staring blankly ahead.

You nodded, showing any fear wasn't a good idea. This was scarier for him than it was for you. "What.. What happened?" You asked him. Yet, despite everything, you extend a sliver of compassion, reaching out to offer some semblance of comfort amidst the horror that was around the both of you.

"I was attacked earlier, I found myself here. I'm so glad you're here, Y/N. I don't want to be alone.. Please... Don't leave me, please stay." He begged.

You nodded again, albeit lacking confidence. You didn't want to say it, but you knew what you had to do. "Don't worry, I'm not hurt at all. I'll keep you company. I just have to do these pipes." You said to him, reassuring Glisten.

"Alright.." He responded.

You navigate the dimly lit corridor, your steps deliberate and sure. Reaching out, you grasp the cold metal of the first pipe, twisting the handle firmly. The pipe groans in protest, releasing a torrent of ichor that cascades downwards.

"How have you managed to avoid getting infected?" Glisten asked.

That perked your attention, it was a hard question to answer, due to his own circumstances. You felt your mouth dry up.

".. I'm very careful." You responded, trying to play it safe. You flashed him a smile, that faded as you turned back your attention to the pipe.

"That's smart.. But I believe even the most cautious people would break under these circumstances." Glisten said.

You glanced at him, thinking. You wondered if this was even your Glisten or some kind of clone. In all honesty, you were going mad. This was hell. How could you not tell the difference anymore?

"Why haven't you given up yet?" Glisten asked.

You turned the pipe handle in thought, before turning your head in thought. "I think I have, I'm just bad at showing it." You answered back.

"Nonsense, Y/N. That doesn't sound like something someone who has given up would say." Glisten responded.

You were just trying to be honest, "It’s true, I can’t accomplish my dreams if I have no one to share it with, and.. Everyone is depleting so fast. But.. I still continue to do these pipes. I don’t know why I do it, ever since I’ve been here, I feel like I’ve been out of touch with myself. I’ve been running on adrenaline." You expressed, gripping the pipe harder. This whole time, you were just trying to do it for Toodles, but now you have no one to live for, no one to continue for. You've just been working in a trance-like state.

It made no sense to you.

Glisten listened to your confession, his single red eye reflecting a depth of empathy that belies his twisted exterior.

"You're doing this for yourself and for those who came before," he says gently, stepping closer as if offering comfort despite his monstrous appearance.

It made you uneasy, but you didn't step away. This is one of your friends and the only one you have left...

You fake a smile, "Mhm." You nodded.

Glisten stared at you, admiring you. Feeling a sense of connection with you, Glisten allows himself to relax slightly. For the first time in what felt like ages, he allowed himself to open up.

"There used to be so much life here," he murmurs softly, looking around at the desolate lobby. "People laughing, music playing..."

A melancholic smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as he remembers happier times.

"But now... it's just us." He said rather quietly.

A chill ran down your spine at that sentence alone. You never felt so unsafe with someone you trusted before. You catch a glint of your reflection in his mirror, you make your way to another pipe. He followed you like a lost puppy. You struggle to come up with something to say in response, trying to hide your fear.

"That may be true, but it can always happen again. Even if things seem rather dull right now, it doesn’t have to stay that way forever." You walked over to another pipe, turning the handle, letting the ichor pour into the pipe. Just what was this stuff anyway, and why does Dandy need it so badly?

Watching you guide him towards the pipe, Glisten can't help but admire your determination. Despite all odds, they refuse to give up. "Even amidst this chaos," he whispers, gazing down at the swirling ichor filling the pipe. "You find ways to bring back some semblance of normalcy." His pink eye follows every movement of your hand as it manipulates the pipe handle. "It's... inspiring," he admits quietly, feeling strangely uplifted by their actions.

This didn't sound like Glisten at all, maybe he's just saying this out of fear, or maybe even regret.

"I guess so, I’m not really sure why. Even before all of this, Shrimpo used to bully me for it. He said I was just being stubborn. I think it’s pretty funny at times, kinda like now. I’m not stupid, I see what’s going on around me, but I believe that there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. I try to think that way anyway.. I have nothing else to lose." You confess to him, you were being honest.

Glisten listens intently as you share your thoughts, a flicker of respect igniting within him. The resilience and optimism in their words strike a chord deep within his own psyche.

"You know, I never thought of it that way," he muses, his gaze drifting to the floor as he ponders your perspective. "Maybe holding onto hope, no matter how slim, is what keeps us sane." He said, which was a huge contrast to his appearance.

You look at him again, as he stares at you with fear and admiration.

Slowly, he raises his head to meet your eyes, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "If anyone can find that light, it's you," he says rather sincerely, his voice carrying a note of encouragement. "And I'll be right here beside you, trying to do the same."

That caught you off guard again, as much as you wanted to bring him with you, you couldn't. Maybe he was saying all of this as a means of survival.

As you stood there silently in awe, the pipe slowly filled with a dark, viscous ichor. You then proceeded to explore the expansive corridors, scanning for additional pipes. He followed you silently, fidgeting with the bonds on his wrists.

Observing your silent resolve, Glisten watches you move around the room, searching for more pipes to fill. A strange warmth begins to spread throughout his chest — a sensation he hasn't felt in quite some time.

"Hey," he calls out after a moment, "Do you want some help?"

As you paused in your tracks, his words echoed in your mind, stirring up a sense of unease. Despite feeling unsettled, you made a conscious effort to conceal your internal turmoil. You managed to mask your inner thoughts with a smile as you turned to face him. "Oh come on, Glisten! The last person that should be working is you, you’re hurt. Focus on resting, okay?" You choked out.

Glisten pauses, considering your words carefully. They carry a weight that he hadn't expected, stirring up emotions within him that were long buried.

"I appreciate your concern," he replies, his tone sincere despite the slight edge of frustration seeping through. "But right now, I'd rather focus on helping you."

You didn't look at him, staring at his reflection through the pipe. He didn't blink, he stared at you.

He stepped closer to you. "And besides..." A soft sigh escapes from between his lips as he gestures vaguely around them at the desolation surrounding them. "...What else do we have left to do?"

"Pipes, pipes, and more pipes. But really, I got this. Maybe if you rest, your body can heal too. So don’t worry about it, okay? I got this." You walked over to the next pipe, turning the handle. Your smile faded when he wasn’t looking.

Noticing your subtle change in demeanour, Glisten remains silent for a moment. He watches them work, admiring their dedication while also sensing their underlying unease. Glisten's eye narrows slightly as he notices the shift in your demeanour, a flicker of understanding dawning on his battered face. He observes you working, his gaze lingering on the focused determination etched across your features. At the same time, he senses the unease simmering just below the surface, a tension that threatens to erupt at any moment. The air grows heavy with unspoken questions and fears, the silence between you two becoming almost palpable.

"Are you alright?" he finally asks, breaking the silence. "It seems like something's bothering you."

His gaze lingers on your face, searching for signs of distress that might indicate otherwise.

"You don't have to keep smiling all the time, you know." he continues gently. "We're in this together." He spoke

There it was again, together. He must've been delirious or something, or delusional. Maybe both! You weren't taking him with you.

".. No, I’m just listening for any noise that may cause concern. The darkness.. I’m afraid of the dark, so I’ve been having to rely on my other senses for comfort in these situations." You confess.

Hearing your admission, Glisten feels a pang of sympathy. Despite everything, their vulnerability touches him deeply.

"That must be hard." He acknowledges, his voice softening even further. But you're braver than you realize. Moving closer, he offers a comforting touch on your shoulder. "Just remember," he insists firmly, 

"We're not alone here. And I promise, I'll do whatever I can to keep you safe." He murmured darkly.

You faked another smile, "Thanks Glisten." The pipe finished filling up, moving on to the next one, the last one. Turning the handle to fill it up.

As you move onto the final pipe, Glisten finds himself drawn to watch them. There's an almost hypnotic quality to their movements, their dedication serving as a stark contrast against the eerie stillness of their surroundings. As you move toward the last pipe, Glisten's attention becomes fixated on your every movement. Something is captivating about your unwavering commitment, a relentless pursuit of survival that contrasts sharply with the oppressive quietude of your environment. His battered form leans against the wall, watching intently as you twist the final handle, triggering another wave of water that cascades down.

"Almost done," he murmurs appreciatively, "And then we can rest."

If only he knew that statement was far from the truth...

A faint glimmer of satisfaction shines in his red eye as he takes in the sight of all three pipes filled with ichor. The sight of the three pipes brimming with ichor elicits a minuscule flash of satisfaction in Glisten's single functional eye.

"But until then," he adds with a tired smile, "I'm just glad you'll stay with me forever, Y/N."

You stayed silent, filling the pipe with ichor, twisting and turning the handle. You didn't want to break him, not now. You knew it was inevitable, but you had to focus on your survival. The silence stretches between you, thick and suffocating, broken only by the rhythmic sound of the ichor-filled water gurgling through the pipes. You maintain your focus, twisting and turning the handles with mechanical precision, your mind numb to the grisly nature of your task. There's a certain detached efficiency in your actions, a desperate attempt to cling to sanity in the face of unimaginable horror. You know what must come next, but for now, you push those thoughts aside, channelling all your energy into the singular goal of survival.

Observing your focused concentration, Glisten allows himself a moment of quiet contemplation. Their steadfast commitment to making the best out of such dire circumstances is nothing short of remarkable.

"Incredible," He cooed. He steps closer, his presence offering a silent testament to their shared struggle.

As your hands leave the wheel, the reality of your situation crashes over you like a tidal wave. You can't bring yourself to meet Glisten's gaze, the shame and guilt gnawing at your insides like ravenous twisted. Your eyes drift downward, fixating on the grimy floor beneath your feet, as if searching for answers in the cracks and stains. The silence between you two is deafening, a physical manifestation of the chasm that has opened up, threatening to swallow you whole. It was all eating at you.

"Glisten?" You asked him, your voice wavered.

Startled by the unexpected sound of his name, Glisten snaps back to attention. His heart skips a beat as he locks his one eye with you, their gaze heavy with unspoken questions and concerns.

"Yes?" He responds softly, leaning in slightly to better hear them. "What is it?"

Your head perked up, turning your head to face him.

".. I think you’re incredible. You do defy beauty. Now, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, alright? I’ll whack them if they try." You said, trying to add confidence to your tone. What was left of your sanity, and confidence felt like it was thrown out the window when the light turned green. Suddenly, a loud shatter noise filled the room. The ichor was consuming Glisten, your unease turned into fear in an instant. Your initial unease morphs into sheer, primal fear as you watch in horror the ichor begin its relentless assault on Glisten's ravaged form. He recoils instinctively, his body tensing as the corrosive substance envelops him, seeping into his wounds and devouring his flesh with alarming speed. Panic sets in, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he thrashes about, desperately trying to escape the inexorable grip of the ichor. Glisten instinctively recoils. As the ichor engulfs him, panic surges through his system.

"H-HELP ME! DON'T L-LEAVE ME!" He stammers out, struggling to maintain control as the familiar intoxicating rush of the infection takes hold. His words trail off into a guttural growl as he loses himself to the transformation.

With a burst of adrenaline-fueled desperation, you sprint towards the elevator, your heart pounding in your chest like a war drum. Behind you, Glisten's frantic cries echo through the corridors, each plea slicing through your already fractured composure. Every step you take seems to drag behind you, weighed down by the guilt and fear that threaten to consume you whole. The chase is a race against time and your own failing sanity.

His one and only desire.

Feeling your retreat, Glisten lets out a low, menacing snarl. His remaining eye blazes with an unholy glow as he struggles to retain his sanity. you crash into the wall trying to make your way to the elevator, causing him to bump into it, trying to catch you. Your head was dizzy, running, sprinting to the elevator!

You ran into the elevator, chasing the elevator doors, you knew at that point, that wasn’t Glisten speaking, but rather the infection of ichor. He was already gone.

As you back away, Glisten's form begins to contort under the influence of the ichor. His yellow appearance darkens, taking on a sickly hue as his once-toon features morph into something far more monstrous.

You jump into the elevator, as the elevator doors slam shut, sealing you inside, you tumble forward, your body crashing against the cold metal walls. You manage to pull yourself upright, turning your head to catch one final glimpse of Glisten's agonized form. His crimson eye blazes with pain and desperation, reaching out his arm to you. The door shut all the way, crushing his arm. You heard his guttural scream of agony, the elevator began to ascend. It pulled his arm down, and he screamed in agony, choking on his spit and the ichor that consumed him. His skin was being crushed by the weight of the wall and elevator, it became too much. The sound of his flesh and bones cracking filled the air, before completely detaching itself from Glisten. His arm lay on the floor, in a pool of ichor.

AUTHORS NOTES: Soooo I'm completely aware this came out of no where, and literally no one asked for this, buuuuttttt I decided to do it anyways, because MAN I love my Roblox games. I also just couldn't get this idea out of my head, hrrrmmmmm!! I know I know, "TAN WHAT ABOUT YOUR SEBASTIAN SERIES!! IM WAITING?!?!?!???!!" YEA I KNOW. I KNOW. But, I did want to write something new, something FRESH as some squids may sayy. So yea! Enjoy!!

[dazed--xx]

🌒Rewriting Destiny🌒

Member: Duke! Chan x reader

Word count: 16k

Trigger warnings: ANGST, Death (FL), psychological, trauma, poisoning, parental neglect/abuse, arranged marriage, anxiety, Nobility, engagement at a young age, regression, murder, revenge, mentions of magic, PTSD, manipulation, regretful ML, Resentment, betrayal, classism, 17th century ideals, homophobia(mentions), SOME!historical accuracy, LOTS! of historical inaccuracies, BREAK UP!, grief, mourning, denial, failure to let go, etc…

A/N: God damn this mf long lol, this has taken fucking forever but I worked really hard on it and HAD to break it into two parts because of the length. Part 2 will probably focus more on Chan 'redeeming' himself and their relationship in the current timeline and more flirty moments. BUT I really hope you guys enjoy this one

Love….

What is love, truly?

If you were to ask her mother; Love is weakness. A nuisance and any signs of it will be dealt with accordingly.

If you asked her personal maid; She’d say love is a burning passionate inferno you must work hard to be sure it doesn't extinguish.

For Y/N; Love is torture. It grabbed a hold of you like a boa constrictor, engulfing your entire being before slowly squeezing the life out of you. She sat quietly as her maid, Aera, brushed her onyx tresses. “I heard His grace has returned from his expedition. Shall I make you extra pretty so you can give him your greetings, My lady?” Area questioned with a sad yet hopeful smile. Y/N looked at her through the mirror, “His grace would prefer to return on another year-long expedition than have my greetings” She commented softly. Her voice never wavered though, she was dying inside. “No…rather set up tea and snacks in the garden for the returning knights and his grace. Also, have the cooks prepare a hearty meal for them for dinner. The expedition may have contributed to strengthening the knights but they have a habit of neglecting their health.” She continues. Area nods as she finishes doing Y/Ns hair.

“And if his grace asks for your whereabouts?”

“I will be in my study” Y/N answers, knowing it made no difference.

Though it had been a year since she had last seen her husband. Her heart always shook in fear and excitement when he would return home from his expeditions. She sat at her vanity, taking a deep breath as her mother's voice rang in her ear. ‘If you fail as the Dutchess and don't produce an heir; You would beg for my punishment in comparison to the power of the Bang Dutchy.’ She flinched at the memory, her arm lifting in a defensive position as she waited for the strike that hadn't come in 10 years. She lets out a sigh of relief as she's brought back into the luxurious bedroom. Her breathing is shaky as she lifts herself from her seat. Her hands tremble as she brings herself in front of her bedroom door, she hesitates as she reaches for the handle. Just quickly make your way to the study. She tells herself; Keep looking forward and go to the study…Her heart feels like it could pound out of her chest as she pulls the door open. Out into the battleground that is the Dutchy. Out of the safety of the cage that is her bedroom.

It had begun shortly after she had arrived at the manor. The whispers from the maids and butlers about the Count's temptress of a daughter who tried to seduce the Duke at 8 years old. She learned early on that responding to or acknowledging such rumors was unbecoming of a Dutchess. Y/N winced as she remembered the stinging of the riding crop against her spine, from her attempt to speak against her sister-in-law, Kari, who was cheerfully laughing with her friends over the matter. She learned quickly, that her mother was correct. Failure, Weakness, and Disloyalty will be quickly snuffed out in the Dutchy. Her sister-in-law held reign over the staff and managed the household, ruling with an iron fist. Despite her title, to survive, Y/N lived as Kari’s dog.

While she was expected to represent the Dutchy at social gatherings, the nobility always referred to Kari for anything. Y/N was the Dutchess by title only. Aera, who came with Y/N from the county; Would complain late into the night about the other staff's mistreatment of her master. The many nights Aera would stay up with Y/N pleading for her to put in a formal complaint with the Duke.

She couldn't…

When she had married Chan, he had only one request after their wedding night. “Do not approach me beyond our scheduled meetings” so she remained with her head down allowing Kari to maintain her position. While she enjoyed remaining in the shadows. She could see the cogs spinning in Kari’s mind. The leash around her neck was tightening. New rules had been implemented courtesy of her ‘Husband’ and his return from his expedition.

The Dutchess is to be moved to the Rose annex

The Dutchess will refrain from returning to the main manor

The Dutchess may never needlessly approach the Duke.

The Dutchess will begin taking contraceptive potions nightly, immediately.

Y/N sat at her desk looking over the declaration once more. She was confused. It was normal for Chan to ask for her presence to be absent when he returned home; he'd usually requested to speak with her to discuss living arrangements as well as a schedule for ‘night meetings’ to keep appearances that they were trying for an heir. Y/N felt slightly disappointed, Chan had requested for her to take a medicinal potion that has proven harmful to her health. She sat for hours staring blankly out the window. The signs were beginning to appear one by one. The family she had married into had lost use for her...

Y/Ns blood ran cold as she came to the realization. The move to the annex, the maids becoming more and more ruthless, and the lack of guards around her annex becoming more frequent. Her time is slowly coming to an end. She wondered if there was a point to all of this. Would there be a point in running? Her mother would hunt her down and skin her alive if she did. ‘Die a respected Dutchess rather than run and be a divorced beggar’ she could hear her mother say. Y/N watches as the blue clear sky fades into a bright purple and orange hue.

A knock on her door pulls her attention away from her thoughts. “Yes?” She calls monotonously. “The Duke is in the receiving room, My lady.” Area calls softly. Y/N's eyebrows furrow in confusion. “My lady?” Area calls once again when she doesn't reply. “I-Im coming! I apologize, Aera.” Y/N replies as she shakily lifts herself from her seat. The whole walk to the receiving room Y/N worried.

Why was he here? He's never visited of his own accord. What could be happening? Would he cast her out himself? A petite hand grips her own pulling her out of her thoughts. Y/N stares at the owner, as Aera gives her a comforting smile. Y/N lets out a sigh, the butler pulls open the door. She hesitates for a moment, it had been a year—one full year, since she had last seen her husband. A lot could change in a single year. She feared how her husband had changed; it was never good for her. She entered the room, her heart sank into her stomach. There he sat, at the head of the room. A flurry of maids standing about waiting on baited breath for his every command. His hair was no longer the clean-cut style but overgrown, sitting raggedly over his forehead and disheveled. Evidence of his bath dripping onto his loose black shirt. He sat a scowl on his plush lips as he sipped his tea. “To what do I owe the honor, Your grace?” Y/N questioned monotonously. “Should I have a reason to visit my dear wife?” He states smugly as he places his tea on the table in front of him. “Especially when I do not receive her greetings after a year-long monster-hunting expedition and come to discover she no longer lives in the same house as me?” Y/N stares at him in bewilderment and confusion. “Your grace?” She stammered “Please, take a seat” He gestured to the loveseat in front of him, his face no longer containing any emotion.

Y/N sits nervously as she begins to question her husband. “I apologize, but what do you mean? I’ve received your letter and followed your instructions.” Chan furrowed his eyebrows as his ears perked up “What letter?” Y/N's attention is pulled away from him by the slight clink of a teacup being placed on the table in front of her. Y/N's eyes remained focused on the maid for a moment, she couldn't quite put her finger on it but something felt…off. “Have you gone deaf in the past 5 minutes?” Chan questions frustratedly. Y/N shakes her head taking hold of the teacup and taking a sip. “No, I apologize. I've not been feeling well today” Y/N states calmly. Her throat begins to feel a small burning sensation. “What letter? When did you receive a letter from me?” Chan asks stoically. Y/N coughs slightly “My apologies, I received your letter about one months time ago” She takes another sip of tea trying to alleviate the growing discomfort. Chan stares at her with his eyebrows raised “And you are sure it was addressed from me?” her throat begins to burn incessantly. Her eyes widen as her mouth fills with a coppery tast as she coughs again.

“My lady?!?!” Area exclaims worriedly “Y/N?!”

Only then does Y/N make the connection. The maid—She works in the main manor, and she’s Kari’s personal maid. Y/N stares at the teacup in her hand, dropping it in a panic. Her eyes meet Chan’s for a moment. He sat stoically, but his eyes never once left her. Y/N rushes to her feet, reaching out for her personal maid “Aera!” She calls. Her tone gurgles and hoarse as crimson cascades out of her mouth. Her legs give way beneath her as she feels arms around her. The room begins to grow blurry as she feels the life fading from her body.

No…No not yet, please God! Don't let me die! I didn't get away…I-I was never happy please! She prays God please let me be happy. “If I could do it all over again…Id have never married you. My biggest regret was walking down that aisle…” She croaks as everything fades to black.

Her eyes shot open as she felt breath return to her lungs. Her hands trembled at her sides, her heart pounded in her chest. The familiar white walls with gold accents has her in a daze as she pulls herself from the duvet and rushes toward the window. My parents estate…She lets out a sigh as she steps back toward the bed. A warm soft wall blocks her path, “oomph” she hears from behind her. “M-My apologies, My Lady” a petite gentle voice called. Y/N's eyebrows furrow as she scans her maid's face. Aera looked…different—younger even. “I-I’m Aera…” she continued.

“What?” Y/N questions bewildered “Why are you introducing yourself to me? Am I at my parents estate?”

Aera gives her a befuddled expression “Pardon?”

“I know your name Aera, you've worked for me for 10 years now.”

Aera shakes her head at Y/Ns words “No, My lady. Today is my first day…” Y/N freezes for a moment. “Bring me a mirror!” she requests firmly. Aera rushes to her vanity and hands her a jade-handled mirror. Y/N stared at the object with shock and disbelief. How could this be possible? She wondered Kari had one of her maids destroy this on my wedding night…How—She flips the mirror, gasping in shock she's met with a youthful version of herself. Her cheeks were no longer sunken in and now sat a lively pink. Her skin and lips no longer pale and cracked. The scars from Kari’s punishments no longer decorated her hands and arms.

Did God hear her prayers? Has time gone back?

“Aera!” Y/N calls in an almost chipper tone. The young maid's ears perk up as she waits for a command. “Yes, My lady?” she answered eagerly. “You said it was your first day, correct?” Y/N questions kindly remembering how meek and nervous the young maid was when she first started. Aera nods profusely “Yes, My lady. The count and countess said I will be going with you after your marriage as it is customary.” she explains. Y/N smiles at her, their memories from the past 10 years flow through her mind. “Yes, I have heard as such” She states with a soft nod. “Take care of me well...” Y/N sighs happily “I will do my best!” Aera exclaims excitedly. “B-But, My lady?…May I ask why you said I have worked here the past 10 years?”

Y/N freezes for a moment. She didn't understand it herself. Had I really gone back in time? Could it have been a prophetic dream? How could I answer her? “I tend to get confused after a long sleep, My apologies” A loud bang on her door startled both of the young women. Y/N hears a familiar voice, her nanny, pleading with someone on the other side of the door. The familiar call of her nanny's voice has her rushing to the door and pulling it open. Her heart sinks to her stomach as she comes face to face with her mother.

A sharp sting on her cheek and the sound of skin connecting with each other rings through the air. Y/Ns legs give out beneath her as she stares up at her mother in shock, as she attempts to rack her brain in search of her mother's reasoning. It all felt too familiar “M-Mother…” Y/N stammered nervously. Her mother scowls at her “Have I given you permission to speak?” Y/N shakes her head rapidly; Her nanny and the maids stand frozen in their places as her mother brings her can down forcefully on her right hand. Y/N cries out in pain “I-I'm sorry!” she whimpers. “You should be. Not only did you have the sodomite escort you. The behavior you showed with that—that lowly Knight. You deserve worse…How dare you embarrass your family like that?!” Her mother scolded. Y/N shakes her head in denial as she finally remembers. “N-No…Hyunji—w-we were just talking—please!” She pleads trying to move her mother's cane from her hand.

“You are to be married to the future heir of the Bang Dutchy and you are galivanting with a knight. Smiling at another man in the same room as your fiancé.!” Her mother growled. “H-He’s a knight of the Bang Dutchy. I should be acquainted with my future people…” Y/N tries to argue to no avail. Her mother lifts the cane holding it firmly in her hand as she brings it down harshly on Y/Ns spine. Y/N cries out painfully “Stop!”

“Stop?! You behave like a courtesan and you expect not to be punished?!” Her mother brings the cane down in 3 quick whips.

“Countess! Countess! The bruises may not heal in time for the wedding!” Her nanny pleads “She learned her lesson…please!” Y/N stares at the ground burying the pain and tears as her mother taught her oh so many years ago. “Don't embarrass this family more than you already have.” her mother warns before turning and exiting the room. Y/N released a breath she didn't realize she was holding as the maids quickly shuffled around her. Bringing her to her feet and rapidly cleaning the small traces of blood on the ground. Y/N stared blankly ahead as they continued to fret and fuss about.

It would almost be impossible to call off the engagement…Mother would kill me if I was somehow able to get the contract annulled. Kari will kill me if I get married….10 years is a lot more time to come up with a plan….I just have to either get Bang Chan to help me annul the engagement(which should be no problem considering around now is when he began to despise me) or run away before Kari can kill me…

Please!

Do something!

Y/N?!

Someone help me please?!

Why are you just sitting there?!

Y/N? Please…Im begging you!

Open your eyes!

Chan’s eyes flash open. His heart is pounding rapidly in his chest as he caresses his head. Sitting up in bed he feels dizzy, his vision slightly blurry. “Young Master. Please lie down…you drank quite a bit last night.” His aide, Felix, states with a disappointed frown. Chan shakes his head in frustration. “Wouldn't you?” He growls. Felix stares at him stoically. “I understand the future young miss upset you. But it was I who suggested she get acquainted with the knights…you did not need to overindulge”

Chan furrows his eyebrows “Future young miss? What are you talking about?!” Chan snaps “I'm not getting married again I told you this!”

Felix raises his eyebrow in confusion “Pardon? Again” Felix brings his hand to Chan’s forehead. “Are you not feeling well?” Chan shakes his hand off of him. Only then does he realize; Felix looked…different. It was Felix, he could clearly see it was him, but he was—younger! Chan quickly shoved his duvet to the side and rushed over to the large mirror across the room. His eyes widened as his youthful appearance came into view. “Felix?!” Chan exclaims excitedly as he touches his own face over and over “How old am I?!”

Felix stares at him like he's grown a second head “19?” He answers confused. Chan smiles at himself in the mirror as a laugh erupts from his chest. He takes a few steps back as tears fill his eyes. “It worked…” He whispers to himself. “It really worked…” A sob begins to crash over him like a tidal wave as tears cascade down his cheeks. “Young master?” Felix questions worriedly. Chan shakes his head in response. He won't understand….not anymore Chan thinks to himself. “Nothing” Chan sniffles quickly trying to pull himself together. “So about the young miss?” Felix questions. “It's just as you said. The rumors about her started because of your suggestion. You should get ahead of them and have any one that spreads false information dealt with immediately.” Chan states as his eyes grow dark.

His mind wanders to Y/N…A new life Y/N, I promise. I'll give you a new life. I'll make sure marrying me isn't your biggest regret this time. Her memories, her pain, her death. He prays it was all reset with this spell. He wished he could forget it all too. But now he had a chance. A chance to fix things. A way to make sure nothing bad could happen this time: a chance to protect her properly this time. “Felix what's on my schedule today?”

“A meeting with the Duke. Then to the training grounds after that, I believe Lady Kim wished to have tea to discuss your venture into her guild. After that, I believe the Dutchess has requested your presence at dinner tonight.” Felix explained studiously. Chan held back a snicker at the way his best friend behaved when they were younger. Remembering the astute Mage he's destined to become. “Tell Lady Kim, I apologize but I must go to the L/N County,” Chan states as Felix hands him a button-down shirt and black slacks. “Also, please inform the count Id like to speak with him.” Chan explains as he grabs his clothes and begins to dress himself. Felix places his hand on Chan's shoulder giving him a knowing but serious look as he shakes his head in disapproval. Chan sighs in frustration. God dammit…he does remember.

“Fine. Tell my father that I will be there soon”

Y/N strolled quietly through the garden as her mind wandered. How could she get away from here? She sighed; Her hands trembled slightly at how terrible the punishment would be for attempting to call off her engagement. The sun's rays danced upon her cheeks. The warmth embraced her comfortingly. Her greenhouse appears over the small hill leading off the property and into the forest. Her heart swelled in happiness. It had been so long since she had last seen her little oasis. After she had woken up in the past; her mother placed her on strict lockdown after the ‘stunt’ she pulled at the banquet. It was now 10 days until her wedding… She pouted to herself He's going to be visiting soon….She could remember vividly how it went the first time

*10 years ago- First timeline*

Y/N stood in the garden. A small smile on her lips as she helped the gardener with the Strelitzias. Her heart quaked in anticipation. She's going to be married in 5 days. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, her fiancé would be arriving at any moment. Y/N couldn't contain the giddiness she felt at seeing her handsome raven-haired fiancé. She had not seen him for 2 years due to his involvement in the war. She had heard he returned a month prior

Y/N felt slightly disappointed when Chan did not come to see her right after his return. They had grown close over the past few years. She assumes that the war had left him fatigued and he needed rest. It had been odd to her that she had also learned of his return through the rumor mill and not from him. She had written him frequently during the war, though his letters have dwindled over the past year she still held out hope. Hope that he felt the same way. Hope for their future. Hope for friendship and mutual love. So as she returned back to her room and learned Chan was in the reception room, she quickly rushed to greet him. Her heart almost burst with excitement.

She smiled brightly as she entered the room. “Channie!” she exclaimed cheerfully as she made her way to the loveseat across from Chan. She freezes when he lifts his hand and a dark glare sits on his face. “Please refrain from using such childish nicknames. I am the heir to the Bang Dutchy; not one of your lowly playmates” He states monotonously. Y/N's eyebrows furrow in confusion “I-I apologize, Your Grace” Chan nods boredly, he snaps his finger, and his aide, Felix, hands him a small stack of letters. “Also, refrain from doing this anymore as well. Our engagement and marriage are nothing but formalities. Do not allow yourself to be confused.” He tilts his head slightly with an arrogant smirk. “There is no reason to harass me with useless things while I am at war. I am only marrying you to inherit my rightful title.” He scolds. Tears build in Y/Ns eyes as she stares into her lap for a moment. She takes one…two….three shaky breaths before she quickly masks her emotions. “I made the mistake of believing we were friends. I apologize, Your Grace” She states meekly. Her expression is completely blank as she stared at Chan. “I do not recall myself telling you we are friends, I do not wish to grow a close relationship with you!” He snaps “I understand, and why is this? What have I done?” Y/N questions.

“A lowly Count’s daughter like you doesn't deserve to marry into the Bang Dutchy. You lack the education, etiquette, and overall quality to be the Dutchess…but since my mother is so insistent on this. Be sure to stay out of my way—both before and after our wedding. I will do my husbandly duties but do not expect love nor affection in our marriage”

*Present*

Y/N shuddered at the memory. She wished she could go back and smack herself for allowing him to belittle her in such an embarrassing manner. At the time, she sat still and properly lowered her head due to his words. This time, she will take any form of punishment from her mother just to make Chan the one flustered and utterly mortified. She'd lay down her life if that's what it takes to prevent the marriage she experienced before she came back in time. “My lady, why are you just staring at the door?” Aeras petite voice pulls her from her thoughts. Y/N jumps from the intrusion, her cheeks heating up in embarrassment. “I was just thinking…” she chuckles slightly.

“You have received a letter from the young master of the Bang Dutchy….” Aera states softly as she extends her hands holding a small letter tray with an envelope sitting in the middle. The Bang seal is a prominent fixture in the middle of the envelope. Y/N stares at the tray for a moment. What? He never sent me a letter before he arrived in my past life… why? She questioned to herself as her eyes never once left the seal. “My lady?” Aera asks worriedly. Y/N shakes her head in response as she takes the letter and opening it.

‘Dear Lady Y/N,

I apologize for not writing you sooner. War had taken hold of my mind and I could not allow myself to be distracted. I returned home a little over 20 days ago, and once again I extend my apologies. I must say, I find myself wondering how you are doing. My mind seems to be full of nothing but you. Have these two years been kind to you? My heart races in anticipation at the thought of our marriage. I know these past two years may have been difficult but as I am home now, I will take care of you. I hope to see you. I long to see you, my heart aches as these days pass and I am losing my patience. May I please see you tomorrow? You cannot imagine my longing. I shall wait for your letter.’

-Bang Chan

Y/N's eyes widen as her cheeks burn a bright scarlet as she reads the contents of the letter. Why did he say these things? Who was this person? How could things be so different than I remember? “Aera, Can you please bring me stationary and something to write with?” She requests flustered.

No matter how many sweet words may be exchanged…Our marriage is only destined for disaster.

Chan’s leg shook in excitement. He'd sent Y/N a letter just this morning yet, he was on the edge of his seat. Hoping she’d respond as she always did. He felt giddy at the thought of receiving one of her love-filled letters once again. He'd missed reading every passionate word. She wouldn't leave his mind. Her smile, Her soft expressions, the gentle honorable way she held herself. Everything about his fiancè had his body practically vibrating. He no longer wished to wait to claim his wife once again. He lost her in his previous life, long before the burning memory of her final moments continuously plagued his dreams nightly. He needed to see her, speak to her, and finally for once just hold her. He prayed for her letter to come soon. He contemplated just using his title to force his way into the County and planting himself beside her, but Felix warned against it. ‘Never force your emotions on a woman’ He explained. Chan felt as if he was going mad.

A knock on his door has him jumping to his feet. The sight of a letter in the butler's hand makes him rush to grab it off the tray. He stared at the letter, his finger tracing over the count's seal. He couldn't help but feel a slight twinge in his chest. He could remember how excited he'd get to receive a letter from her in his first life. Every letter he had received from her contained this seal. He could still remember how harshly he'd been forced to snap on her in his previous life about her letters. He scolded himself, but he never received another letter from her after that day. Even then, he regretted saying those words as soon as he uttered them. But at the time, the risk Kari posed in her life overpowered any feelings he had for his fiancè. He should have realized back then, that even if he distanced himself from her as long as Y/N sat on the Dutchess seat, her life would be in danger. His breath was shaky as he opened her letter.

‘Dear Lord Chan,

My apologies, your grace. I have been ill recently and cannot see you. Welcome back, as you understand rest is important to ones health so I believe it would be best to not see each other until I've regained my strength.

-Y/N L/N’

Chan's eyebrows furrowed in disbelief as it felt like his heart was shattering in his chest. No…Why? She's lying…Why is she lying? She's not sick…she wasn't in my previous life…so why? His hands shook at his side as anger and confusion bubbled inside of him. Taking a deep breath to calm himself down. Why would she lie? In the past, she was waiting for me! She loves me right now so why? I hadn't made any mistakes yet…….

Perhaps she was truly ill, yet he couldn't remember a single sign of illness from his previous memories. He can vividly remember her excitement, the cheerful way she exclaimed his childhood nickname. Is she avoiding me? No…She couldn't be…She loves me…She adores me…but what if—-his stomach churned. “No, there has to be an explanation.” He whispers to himself. “I should send the doctor there and—Felix!” He calls “Prepare a carriage!” He had to see for himself, he needed to see her—even just a small glimpse would satisfy this desperate ache. The memory of his beloved coughing up blood as she desperately clung to her personal maid, sent a sharp spear through his chest. Her final words ring through his mind ‘If I could do it all over again…Id have never married you. My biggest regret was walking down that aisle…’ He winced to himself. As the image of her body appears before him, he drops to his knees in a panic. His breath gets caught in his throat as he desperately reaches out toward the apparition. No! She's alive! She's alive now…I need to see her. I need to be absolutely sure everything is going right. “How am I supposed to continue waiting?!” Chan exclaims to himself as he clenched his fist slamming it on the ground.

“Patience…” A familiar deep voice responds. Chan lifts his head as he sees Felix holding Y/N’s letter. “Felix…—No. My memories may slowly be returning but I do remember how specific I was…nothing. And I mean nothing must change prior to your first meeting that day with Y/N. Your impatience can ruin everything we've worked for!” Felix cuts him off. “I don't remember this from before so why do you have another letter? When did you request to see her?” Felix questions. Chan shakes his head, “How did you expect me to just remain still and try to do things like before?! How can you expect me to not want to see her?!” Felix snaps his finger and the letter goes up in flames. Chan’s eyes widen as a look of horror decorates his features. “NO! What did you do?”

“I'm fixing the mistakes you made, lets hope things didn't change too much with this. I told you, there are consequences for even going back in time. Someone is still going to die. If you act before it is time, then that person will be Y/N again. The only person who can change things now is her. It's her life at stake. It's her fate! She's the only one permitted to mess with it. Things will go the same if you try too early. Remember, her memories aren't intact.” Felix states. “I will contact my resource in the county and give you an update on her okay? That is the most we can do until your paths cross as they did before.” He stares at Chan with a serious expression. Even at his small level of magic, his ability was terrifying. He implanted his memories to return slowly so as to not overwhelm his body with mana. Placing the unlocked mana of a high mage into his younger self could ruin any magic he had done before he turned back time.

“Can’t I just go see her…I will not interact with her. Just see her, she likes her garden so it shouldn't be too difficult to not be seen?” Chan asks desperately. Felix gives him an apologetic look. Chan feels himself deflate. Why didn't I see her when I first came home in my previous life? He whimpered to himself My beloved Y/N, wait for me.

Y/N’s hand trembles as her carriage approaches Bang Manor. She stared blankly into her lap, her hands looking almost smaller with the bright pink lace gloves sitting just above her elbow. The corsetted pink dress felt like pins and needles upon her skin. She adjusted the bust attempting to cover the very prominent cleavage. “Stop fussing with it!” Her mother growls. “It does not feel proper nor comfortable…” Y/N calmly states. Her mother closes her fan leaning forward with a smirk “Comfort, is a luxury you cannot afford. You need to look and behave perfectly.”

Y/N nods half-heartedly. “Men, no matter their title or accolades, cannot resist a womans ‘charm’ even a woman like you” her mother snides. “Mother, it is a garden party, for the women of high society. There will be no men.”

“Do you forget who's home this is?”

“How could I forget…” Y/N felt herself growing more and more frustrated at her mother's insistence on continuing the conversation. She did not wish to attend this garden party. How she wished her nanny hadn't been able to talk her mother down a few days ago now. In her previous life, Y/N begged and pleaded with her mother to allow her to attend this party. Her future sister-in-law personally invited her and her attendance was expected but, due to the banquet fiasco and the bruises left from her punishment, Y/N was forced to remain home while her mother attended the older women's party. Now that she knew what could possibly await her and Kari’s true nature, Y/N would do anything to not attend this party. She would have to remain alert and proper. She could not make a single mistake. Kari was as manipulative as she was beautiful. She was cunning and could destroy Y/Ns life with a single smirk. Y/N was the daughter of a lowly Count, though she had been engaged to Chan for 7 years now; Kari always liked to remind her of her position in society.

This garden party, in particular, Kari would describe as an introductory party. In her past, Y/N learned why Kari truly held these parties. Kari and the most prosperous daughters of the nobility enjoyed vetting and ‘playing’ with the hopeful ‘lower class’ of Viscounts, Barons and Earls. They'd enjoy pretending to spend time with the daughters all while slowly sucking away their ability to think a single thought without the higher-up's input. Y/N was the 14th girl they had done this to in both of her lifetimes, unfortunately. “Countess, Lady Y/N we have arrived.” the coachman called. Y/N's heart sinks deeper into her stomach as she feels a wave of nausea takes over her. Her mother raised her eyebrow as she stared at her. “Behave. And don't embarrass us.” Her mother growls as she exits the carriage and makes her way into the manor. Y/N steadies her breathing for a moment before she slowly lifts herself from her seat, exiting the carriage she is greeted by the familiar staff. The memories of their cruel taunts and whispers flash through her mind. Words get caught in her throat as she looks away from them. They didn't do it yet…things have changed…they won't hurt me this time. She reassures herself. A maid points her to the path to the garden, taking a deep breath she makes her way over to the party.

Y/N couldn't help but admire the Dutchess’ garden, knowing how much pride her mother-in-law put into creating this garden herself. Leaning in to smell the gorgeous roses she halts as a mop of jet-black hair catches her attention. She couldn't say she was surprised at the expensive, elegant aura Kari radiated. The false friendly smile that sat perfectly on her plush lips, as she ‘entertained her new pets.’ Y/N stood frozen in place as she watched her sister-in-law chat with her friends, looking almost innocent. If this had been the past, Y/N would have rushed over to the table excitedly as she imagined every other girl did when they arrived. She mentally curses herself when Kari’s eyes meet hers. A bright beaming smile forms on the younger girl's lips as she lifts herself from her seat at the table and makes her way over. “I'm glad to see you made it! My brother said you have been ill.” Kari exclaimed. “Greetings Lady Bang. My health has improved and I made a commitment, I'm here to honor it.” Y/N responded with the same amount of faux enthusiasm. Kari smiles as she tilts her head slightly “How becoming of the future Dutchess.” Kari gestures toward the table. “Please, have a seat.” Y/N stares at the only free seat available, right beside Kari and her friends.

Y/N could feel their scornful stares behind their sweet facades. She despised these women, the select few that made her previous life absolute hell. “Lady Y/N, I heard life in the county can be quite desolate. I'm glad to see its beginning to prosper considering your dress.” A red head named Sera questioned. Sera’s father, a marquis, was a ruthless tyrannical man. In her past life, Sera did not fall too far behind him. She was a viper of a woman. Her venom laced rumors could make or break a young woman reputation in high society. Kari eventually cast Sera out when it was revealed she had been in an 12 year affair with a knight in her fathers estate and in her desperation, attempted to bed Chan. Being the overprotective younger sister she was, Kari quickly cut off one of Sera’s hands at the wrist. ‘Do not covet something nor someone far above you…’ Kari warned the redhead.

Y/N shuddered at the memory. The sounds of Sera’s ear piercing blood curtling screams began to echo in her mind. “Where else would she have gotten it?” A blonde girl, Naeun, snickered “Her fiancè is the future Duke. Of course he wouldn't want her to wear her normal rags…” Y/N felt her blood run cold at the mention of Chan as she stares blankly at the teacup. She could imagine her mothers expression from the table across the garden. She knew proper etiquette; she should just drink the tea but, the idea of raising a single cup from this home has her growing weary. Kari had a target on her back for a long time. Y/N herself did not know for sure how long ago Kari’s hatred of her began. She couldn't be sure if her life was safe at the moment. Kari stared at her mischievously, “Is the tea not to your liking?” Y/N instinctively perked up as she lifted the cup to her lips taking a hesitant sip. “My apologies,” Y/N stated graciously “I must have lost myself for a moment.” Kari raised her eyebrow, a smirk hidden behind her teacup. “Beside that, I heard you recently became acquainted with our Knight, Hyunjin, has he lived up to your expectations?” Kari questioned innocently. “Beyond, as you may have heard I will be married soon, I recently heard he will be marrying his fiancé shortly after becoming my escort. What a lovely couple I will have serve me, I felt it was best to become acquainted prior so they could enjoy a honeymoon. I'd be honored for them to serve me on their return. ” Y/N countered politely.

“I’m sure you would…” Sera chimed.

“Pardon?”

“Nothing, it's just—it has been said you adore beautiful men so it wouldn't be surprising that Hyunjin is the first knight you approach…” Sera snides as the rest of the table begins to whisper amongst themselves. Y/N fought the need to groan “Are you insinuating something?” She questioned gracefully. Sera smirks as she flashes Kari a side-eye before responding when Kari nods subtly “I feel it is unbecoming of the future Dutchess to be involved in such a scandal. Imagine the embarrassment your fiancè must feel…” Y/N couldn't hold back her snicker “I expect you would know more about something like that, no? And the only ‘beautiful men’ I have been seen with are my future guard, my brother, and my fiancè. ” Y/N raises her eyebrow as she stares Sera down. “Your brother? Isn't he a fugitive?” Naeun questions worriedly as the group continues to whisper. “For what crime?” Sera questions with a look of concern. If there was anything Y/N could give to these three; it was their knack for theatrics. “Sodomy. He lies with men, but how could it be helped he comes from a perverse family.” Naeun gossiped. Y/N feels her blood boil, turning to Kari she lifts herself from her seat. “I must apologize. It seems I have not been as well as it seemed” She states before she quickly turns away from the table and makes her way back toward her carriage. She could feel three sets of eyes burning holes into her back as she made her escape.

Staring at nothing but the ground she walked away attempting to remain as invisible as possible. No wonder Chan changed so much…what else must he have heard back then? Have I always seemed so….disgusting? What did my brother do wrong? He was an amazing person, why did who he loved matter to everyone else? How could anyone be so nasty? A wall of muscle pulls her out of her thoughts as she collides with someone. “My apologies…” she squeaks as she pulls away attempting to make another escape due to her embarrassment. Her eyes widen when she feels two strong hands on her waist holding her steady. Her eyes trail from the broad firm chest covered by the black petticoat embroidered with golden tassels, up to their face. Her heart pounds rapidly against her chest as she comes face-to-face with her fiancè. “No, I should have been paying better attention but I grew distracted.” Chan apologized, his tone laced with something unfamiliar to her. “D-Distracted?” Y/N felt herself growing overwhelmed and panicked. It had been so long since I had last seen him…She thinks to herself Has he always been this beautiful? She shakes the thought out of her head as she feels Chan caress her cheek. His eyes never leave hers as he gives her a small smile. Why are you looking at me like that? She wonders.

“Yes, I was entranced by the view and lost myself”

A squeak is released from her throat as Chan pulls her into his chest. “Y-Your grace?” she exclaimed in shock. She feels Chan freeze for a moment, his hands coming to hold her shoulders as he pulls back. His eyebrows furrow together as he leans in close and examines her face intently. Embarrassment fills her stomach as her cheeks become a bright scarlet “C-Channie?” the nickname falls out of her mouth uncontrollably. Chan’s eyes brighten as his lips spread into a widen grin. “What a relief….” He whispers to himself.

“What?”

“Nothing, where are you going? Are you still not feeling well?”

“Unfortunately, so I am returning home.” Y/N lies. Chan stares at her with an almost desperate and heartbroken look. “N-No! But—why don't you lay down inside?” Chan suggests panickedly. Y/N stares at him bewildered. Who is this man? The Chan I know would have never suggested for me to rest here. “It would be best for me to return home…” she answers calmly. “Why? If it is about privacy, your room has been prepared for you already.” He responds casually. Y/N stared at him confused. My room? Before…i never had a room. Just guest room after guest room until I was banished to the annex…. “M-My room?”

“Yes? We are to be married in 7 days time. Why would you not have a room?”

“I—we aren't married yet…”

“You sound quite relieved about that….” Chan states with a sad pout. Y/N stares at him bewildered “Pardon?” a smirk forms on his lips “Was I wrong? You won't abandon me at the altar, correct?” he chuckles. Y/N doesn't say anything, just frozen in place with his arm wrapped around her waist as he leads her toward the manor. Her mouth hung open “That was not funny was it? My apologies” Chan states nervously as he escorts her inside. “Y-Your grace…it would be quite inappropriate for me to stay here. I will be returning home, my apologies” Y/N states trying to sound firm and still graceful as she turns to walk back toward her carriage. Chan grips her wrist softly “Y/N, wait! Please.” Y/N forces her wrist out of his hand. “Unhand me! Listen, and listen well…I don't wish to marry you. A marriage to you means too much and I don't want that responsibility. I don't want to be the Dutchess nor do I wish to continue to be held with such contempt by so many people. If you haven't heard, I'm not worthy of such a title. And I'm not going to risk my life to be married to you.” She growls trying to hold herself together. Chan stares at her wide-eyed for a moment before his eyes darken “What? What are you talking about? Who said you aren't worthy of that title?” Y/N shakes her head, “Do not mind that. Just know, that I will not marry you with joy and acceptance in my heart…”

“What happened? Tell me. Now.”

“Why must something have happened?”

“Y-You wouldn't be like this….You love me. What happened? Tell me and I can correct it. Who said you aren't worthy of being the Dutchess? Was it someone at Kari’s party?” Chan questions his anger growing more and more evident. Y/N instinctively flinches at the mention of Kari’s party. Her heart sinks as Chan walks past her toward the entrance to the garden. “Where are you going?” Y/N questions worriedly. Chan ignores her as he continues walking. “It is unbecoming of the future Duke to just abruptly end a conversation by walking away…”

“Were you going to answer a single one of my questions?” Chan retorts a menacing tone in his voice as he enters the garden with Y/N hot on his heels. “Your Grace, please, it is nothing..” She pleads with him as the laughter from the garden begins to ring through her ears. “Your grace!” Chan continues to ignore her as he walks straight up to Kari. “Pardon me ladies, but I must speak with my dear sister….” Chan states menacingly as he grips Kari’s arm lifting her from her seat and pulling her toward the Manor. “What is this about?” Kari questions, her eyes wide as fear takes over her features. As he passes a knight he leans over to him “Show Lady Y/N L/N to her room.” He commands in a whispered tone. “And do not allow her to leave until I've spoken with her.” The knight walks over to Y/N, “This way, My lady” He gestures toward the path she had just taken. With a reluctant nod, Y/N follows him.

“Y-Your grace…it would be quite inappropriate for me to stay here. I will be returning home, my apologies”

Chan’s heart sinks, No…You can't! Why? Why do you want to leave so bad? I've finally seen you, you're finally here in front of me….why are you behaving like this? His hand reaches out instinctively as she turns away, gripping her wrist softly “Y/N, wait! Please.” An ache forces its way through his chest as she pulls her wrist out of his hand. “Unhand me! Listen, and listen well…I don't wish to marry you.” Lies… “ A marriage to you means too much and I don't want that responsibility.” You can't be telling me the truth! You have to be lying…. “ I don't want to be the Dutchess nor do I wish to continue to be held with such contempt by so many people.” What? Contempt? My beloved…. “If you haven't heard, I'm not worthy of such a title. And I'm not going to risk my life to be married to you.” She growls trying to hold herself together. Chan stares at her wide-eyed for a moment before his eyes darken, I’ll kill them all… “What? What are you talking about? Who said you aren't worthy of that title?” His tone full of venom, his blood boils when Y/N only shakes her head and tries to wave him off “Do not mind that. Just know, that I will not marry you with joy and acceptance in my heart…” This couldn't be true, not after everything he had done. Not before he could make amends. Something….something had to have happened.

“What happened? Tell me. Now.”

“Why must something have happened?”

“Y-You wouldn't be like this….You love me. What happened? Tell me and I can correct it. Who said you aren't worthy of being the Dutchess? Was it someone at Kari’s party?” Chan questions his anger growing more and more evident. He notices the way she flinches at the mention of Kari’s party. That conniving little rodent! Seething at the way Y/N had a flash of fear when it came to this simple party. She should have been fine! She should have been safe! Kari’s hatred ran much deeper than I expected….He thinks to himself as he brushes past Y/N making his way toward the entrance to the garden. “Where are you going?” Y/N questions worriedly. He shakes his head to himself as he ignores her and continues walking. “It is unbecoming of the future Duke to just abruptly end a conversation by walking away…”

“Were you going to answer a single one of my questions?” Chan retorts a menacing tone in his voice as he enters the garden with Y/N hot on his heels. “Your Grace, please, it is nothing..” She pleads with him as his sister comes into his view, seeing nothing but red he makes his way over to his sister. “Your grace!” Chan continues to ignore Y/N as he stands in front of Kari. “Pardon me ladies, but I must speak with my dear sister….” Chan states menacingly, taking note of the fearful and guilty way she looked back at his fiancè before he grasps Kari’s arm lifting her from her seat and pulling her toward the Manor. “What is this about?” Kari questions, her eyes wide as fear takes over her features. Good….Time for you to learn your place here…He seethes as he passes a knight he leans over to him “Show Lady Y/N L/N to her room.” He commands in a whispered tone. “And do not allow her to leave until I've spoken with her.” Chan continues making his way into the manor with Kari.

“You can't just embarrass me like this!” Kari whines as she stomps her foot while the butlers open the main door.

“You cannot handle a fraction of the embarrassment you've caused Lady Y/N?!” He growls. “I do not understand, brother please just explain…” Kari stammered nervously. “Do you think me a fool?” Chan snaps as he grabs a vase and chucks it against the wall “Which one of those women told my fiance she is not worthy of our marriage?” Kari stares at him wide-eyed, her anger and fury decorating her features. “She may hear worse things when she becomes the Dutchess. She cannot run to you every time someone says something rude! And a lowly—whore like her is not worthy of becoming the Dutchess” She argues. Chan draws his sword as his eyes burn with a passionate rage “If you wish for your tongue to remain in your mouth, I would stop speaking”

“I am your sister! I am your true family! You would betray your blood for some pathetic Count's daughter? Placing someone so—so dirty in that position is an insult to our entire lineage!” Kari argues, Chan knows this could be dangerous. Y/N could be hurt faster by him pissing his sister off but between finding out just the fraction of what Y/N was put through at the hands of his sister before she died, and Y/N brushing him off because of his sister and her antics; his rage could not be contained any longer. “You have no need to worry, I will handle her and she knows I would like to speak with her after the party.” Kari continues. “No. You've proven too lenient with your friends, bring her to me. You have until the end of the day!” Chan declares.

“No! You’re going to be too harsh on her when she said nothing untrue! Lady Y/N is not worthy of being the Dutchess. Just from her family’s reputation alone she should not be permitted to be in that position! There is nothing honorable about bringing a crazy incoherent count, a vile and ignorant countess nor their sodomite son into our family and tainting it with their blood! She’s dirty and tainted because they are!” Kari snaps

“Have you forgotten who chose this engagement?! You volatile spoiled little child! I have gifted you leniency because father always concerns himself with your health but your insolence will stop now. You are to stay in the rose annex until you've repented by bringing me the one that said the fiancè chosen by both me and the current Dutchess is unworthy; Only then will your punishment be lifted.” Chan states firmly as he walks away from the foyer leaving Kari burning with a passionate rage in her stomach.

“You can't just do this to me! Because of one whore?!”

“Guards, bring my sister to the rose annex. She is to stay there until the one that has spoken such blasphemous words has been dealt with.” Chan ignores her as he makes his way to Y/Ns room on the second level of the Manor. His heart races as he knocks trying to quell his anger. “Come in…” Y/N calls monotonously. Chan hesitates for a moment. Has she calmed down? Will she pull away again? He sighs heavily as he pushes the door open. Y/N sat by the window staring blankly out of it, “May I return home?” She questions softly. “You should rest for a while and return home after…” He suggests kindly, as he strides across the room, his hand caressing her lower back. Y/N continues to stare out the window. Chan's eyes wander over her face. His heart fluttered as he embedded every inch of her face into his memory. The beautiful sunset hues that painted the room, she looked ethereal.

I have to get out of here....

Y/N thought to herself. She could feel Chan's eyes burning holes into her face. Confusion flowed through her. Why was he behaving so.....oddly? For the first time in a long time, she prayed her mother would be looking for her. She felt Chan shift, his arms wrapping around her waist as he leaned on her slightly. She notices the soft inhale he does as he nuzzles against her neck. "Y-Your grace?" She questions nervously as she steps forward slightly releasing his grip on her. "My apologies..." Chan smirks subtly "I was entranced by such beauty and behaved according to my own desires" he states flirtatiously. Y/N stares at him, her cheeks flushed as a bewildered gaze is painted on her features. What?....He couldn't be talking about....me? right? She wondered, How can he be so different than before? "W-well, I would like to request that you please refrain from such things, i-it is inappropriate and can be misunderstood" Y/N stammers nervously. She mentally palms herself for allowing her nerves to show.

"What could be misunderstood between a betrothed couple?" Chan argues his frustration grows at her behavior.

"Our marriage has not been officiated....we are not husband and wife currently, Your Grace. Therefore, Things can be misunderstood. You would not like if my reputation is ruined any more than it already is, would you?" She questions graciously as she turns to sit at the small loveseat in the center of the room. Chan remains where he stood by the window, his fists clenched at his sides. "Is that why you're reluctant to allow me to be close to you? What others would say?" He questions behind gritted teeth. Y/N can feel the room grow colder as she turns to look at Chan. His jaw was clenched as he stared out the window. "People say horrid things about me as it is. i would prefer to not be the topic of gossip." She states softly.

"Our wedding is in 7 days..." Chan states innocently. A pure, excited look on his features as he perks up. Her eyes widen, "Pardon?" her voice squeaks in shock. Chan's eyebrows raise as he approaches the loveseat and rests his hand on your shoulder. "Is a week's time too long?" He questions excitedly. She turns to face him a look of bewilderment on her features. "Your Grace..." Y/N sighs as she stares at her lap "I don't understand...."

"You said you would be worried about what people said about my behavior since we haven't officiated our marriage. I can hold the ceremony tomorrow if you wish." He states with an innocent pout. Who is this man? She wonders to herself. The wedding is supposed to be in a week. What does he mean, he could hold it tomorrow? Why is everything so different? Everything has changed....does that mean I can live? "Your Grace...I believe you have misunderstood me. I said I would be concerned about my reputation due to your behavior since I will not be marrying you" She states boldly. She feels his hand tense on her shoulder. "W-what?" He questions with a stammer.

"I was going to send a letter but since I was able to meet you here, I would like to request that you annual our engagement" She states coldly as she stares forward at the door. Chan feels his heart drop into his stomach. Y/N can feel his eyes boring holes into the back of her head. It sat quiet for what felt like hours before Chan released her and made his way out of the room without saying a word.

Y/N released the breath that caught in her throat. Relief washes over her as she gains the ability to breathe freely. Taking the opportunity, Y/N rushes out of the room and into the foyer where the workers freeze momentarily. Their eyes burn into her and she remembers their judgmental gazes from before. The way they'd eagerly follow Kari's command and torment her in their own ways. I can't stay here...Just through this door...She willed herself as she continued to run through the front door and onto the front lawn, seeing her carriage just past the gate; she walked quickly toward it. intercepting her mother who was being escorted into it. she avoids her mother's glare as she sits in the seat. Letting out a sigh of relief at her escape, she flinches quickly as her mother's hand connects with her cheek.

Chan's hands shook at his side as he rushed through the corridors. This cannot be true he thinks she has to be lying. Someone had to have said something to her. Chan couldn't process her words even as they continue to replay in his mind.

'I would like to request that you annual our engagement'

'I would like to request that you annual our engagement'

'I would like to request that you annual our engagement'

The words torment him as he searches profusely for Felix. This isn't right...This can't be possible. She loves me, she has always loved me. Why wouldn't she want to marry me? He rushes down the stairs to the back sunroom, he notices the familiar mop of blonde hair. Felix stood in the garden staring out of the gate as he watched a carriage as it left. His eyebrows scrunched in confusion as he stood with his hands cupped together behind his back. "Felix!" Chan calls, panicked as he rushes toward his aide. Felix stares at Chan with a look of concern. "What do you remember about the countess from your previous marriage to Lady Y/N?" Felix asks curiously. Chan freezes for a moment, "N-Not much, She died a year or two after our marriage. Y/N didn't go to her funeral..." He explains. Felix sighs, his head resting in his hand. "No...she wasn't permitted to leave at that time..." The blonde mutters quietly. Chan's eyes widen "On whose authority?"

"Yours. Your Grace" Felix snides "It was during your first monster hunting expedition"

"Anyway," Chan waves off his words not wanting to remember his brutish behavior "What about the countess? Has she become unruly?"

"She struck Lady Y/N...." Felix states bewildered "Quite harshly I may add" Chan's blood boils at Felix's words. She what? Chan feels his heart sink in his stomach. Did Y/N get hit often? Is this why she doesn't want to marry me? Chan's jaw clenches as his right hand instinctively reaches for his sword. "What?" He questions. Felix's eyes darken, "My contact in the County informed me it was a normal occurrence. Lady Y/N has endured harsh beatings from the Countess for many years on occasion having many bruises to the point she cannot appear in public" He states with a concerned and guilty tone. Chan's throat tightens, No that can't be true...That means before...

"Your Grace, did you know?"

"How could I have known? Even when we were in my chambers at night, I had to remain distant because of Kari's spies. We wouldn't really talk we'd just--" Chan stops speaking as the memory of their nights together flashes back through his mind. His cheeks turn a bright scarlet at the memory. The nights he was only able to express how he felt through his actions. He could vividly remember how it felt to caress her soft skin as she held onto him for dear life. He could remember her whimpers and the way she'd hold back her moans. Blood rushed to his head as Felix snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Erhm--That aside, Your Grace. If Lady Y/N is not safe even in her familial home, we may have to exert our authority and bring her here sooner." Felix reluctantly suggests. "She'd rather die...That is what she would say I believe...." Chan murmurs. "Your Grace?" Felix questions as he looks at the young future duke's distressed expression. Chan's heart felt heavy if his beloved had to live through a heavy hand and torturous life with her family too; he felt as if his world completely shattered. He should have paid closer attention after they had gotten married. He should have realized the way she always flinched when someone moved too quickly next to her in their previous life. He wished he could kick himself in the throat for the way he treated the woman he loved so deeply. There were only so many times he felt he could brush off his behavior as 'protecting Y/N from his sister' and he knew that. He became a horrible tyrant and treated Y/N as if she were a doll. She deserved more, He knew he could have done better. He should have been better.

Though his heart ached terribly, he could understand why. Her words as she lay dying in front of him repeating through his mind. If I could do it all over again…I'd have never married you. My biggest regret was walking down that aisle…He couldn't understand, did Felix's magic not work properly. She wasn't supposed to reject marrying him, if anything she should be ecstatic at the idea of him moving their wedding up. "Your Grace?" Felix questions as he places his hand on Chan's shoulder, pulling him out of his thoughts. "Apologies, what did you say?"

"Why would Y/N say she'd rather die than come here sooner? Your meeting with her is supposed to be in two days" Felix asks puzzledly. "She requests I annual our engagement..." Chan states dejectedly. Felix looks at him befuddled "That's impossible...." His aide states under his breath. Felix quickly turns away from Chan rushing deeper into the Manor. Chan's eyes widen as he follows behind his aide, He follows Felix toward the Staff's quarters and into the basement where Felix's lab sits. He quickly pulls a large box from a bookshelf and places it on his desk. Letting let out a shaky breath, Felix brought his index and middle to his lips, his eyes closing and soon the box glowed a bright sapphire blue, the top of the box opened and there sat a large glowing purple orb. "Ae-ra...." Felix grits as he clenches his fist. As he grips the side of his desk "That sneaky minx..."

"What? What happened?" Chan questions in confusion. Felix sighs "Ae-ra lied. She said she wouldn't tamper with Lady Y/N's memories, but her magic signature is here." Chan's heart sinks, "No...you said that this would be--Well, My wife seems to have me evenly matched" Felix cuts him off frustratedly. Chan notices the familiar jealousy, from the pair's relationship over the years. The two personal aides are the only connection between Chan and his wife. Chan was not surprised that their petty rivalry soon turned into love and then marriage. It was not a secret that Ae-ra was opposed to Felix turning back time with only the three memories intact. Chan couldn't argue with Y/N's closest confidant at the time. Ae-ra had been there for his beloved when he couldn't, of course, she'd find it wrong to not allow her Lady to have free will and knowledge of her fate.

*First Timeline- Y/N's Death....*

"Please! " Ae-ra cried her eyes widening as Y/N's head rested on her lap. Chan couldn't believe what happened. He sat frozen in shock and despair as Ae-ra continued to shout "Do something!" Her panicked and coarse screams pull Chan out of his daze. He lifted himself from the couch and dropped to his knees, his hands wrapping around his beloved as he lifted her from her maid's lap and held her tight. She stared up at him her eyes almost completely lifeless, "Y/N?!" He calls his voice trembling as he hears a small croak from her lips. He leans in to her trying to listen for any more signs of life. His eyes widen as he feels her torso tighten for a moment before he feels a warm liquid on his cheek. Ae-ra stares at him wide-eyed, their eyes connect for a moment before Ae-ra extends her handkerchief to him before she lifts herself from the floor and rushes out of the room toward the knights "Someone help me please?!" she screams as she disappears.

Chan can feel the eyes of the maids on him as he holds Y/n's lifeless body against him. His eyes darken as he looks at his staff "Why are you just sitting there?!" He growls. Felix's deep voice booms as he orders the maids to clean and find a doctor for the Dutchess. Chan sat frozen as he held Y/N close to him. Tears build in his eyes as he silently pleads to Y/N. Please…I'm begging you, Open your eyes! His body aches as his regrets fill him. "Felix, Get the maid that did this. I don't see her" Chan demands in a panic. Felix nods with a serious expression, and with a snap of his fingers, he disappears leaving a trail of blue smoke in his wake. Chan didn't expect any of this when he returned home. He pleaded with God to make him wake up from this horrible dream. It felt like hours before Ae-ra returned and Chan was forcibly taken away to be cleaned and have Y/N treated. But he knew...though he wanted to deny it. His beloved was gone, She died believing he didn't love her.....

That he wished she was gone.......

He cried harshly as he sat outside of Y/N's room. The doctor was pale as he explained that Y/N was no longer alive. Chan felt like he couldn't breathe, How could this be? How could God be this cruel? I was so close, so close to having her protection guaranteed. I was so close to fixing everything and spending the rest of my life making up for my mistakes. How could she just be gone? Why didn't he just stay with her? He quickly rushed into the room, shouting for the staff to leave. His eyes were bloodshot and his face stained with tears as he rushed beside her body. If he didn't know any better, he'd believe she was just sleeping. His hand hesitantly reached out for hers, grasping it for dear life. His sobs leave him trembling as he feels his legs turn to jelly before he drops to his knees. His free hand caresses her head as he cries.

"I-I'm so sorry....." His voice is trembling as his grip grows tighter on her hand "Honey....I'm sorry. P-Please....w-wake up...Honey...I was wrong. I did wrong and I'm so sorry so please--just open your eyes. Y-you can scold me for being mean l-like w-when we were kids....I-I deserve it. I was so mean for so long so please just scold me or hit me or something, please. Please tell me I'm not too late. Honey, j-just s-say my name one more time? P-please? Y-you c-can't j-just leave me behind without doing that right? Please j-just open your eyes and say C-Channie....Y/N..."

Ae-ra felt empty as she tried to maintain her professionalism. She stood beside her mistress with a heavy heart. Mentally, she was in almost as much denial as the Duke. She held herself together with the thought that her mistress was just asleep, but she knew the truth. No matter how much healing magic or potions she used, Her Grace was not waking up from this slumber. She knew, there were going to be questions. Eyes were going to be on her, she was the closest person to the Dutchess. The only person with unlimited access, she was lucky to not have been hauled off the moment the doctor had declared her mistress passing. She struggled to hold back tears as the Duke cried over his lost love. Her heart ached for the couple, knowing how hard their circumstances and the Duke's negligence had been for her lady. Ae-ra feels she could make peace if the Duke suffers for the rest of his days. Though she knew it was wrong, She wished the Duke to endure the suffering her mistress had been through in the 10 years of their marriage, She hoped he would die feeling alone and unloved, just like her mistress. These things that could never be voiced out loud, Ae-ra held her breath and tears hoping time would pass quickly and she would be dismissed to her room shortly. Feeling her emotions boiling over, she sighs hopelessly.

Chan's head perks up at the sound of someone sighing. He notices Y/N's maid, Ae-ra, standing on the other side of the bed. He stares at the maid with sad guilt-ridden eyes. A mournful pout on his lips as he looks at Ae-ra feeling remorseful as he notices her struggling to hold herself together. "Ae-ra...." He sighs, and the maid stares at him with worried eyes. "Y-Your Grace, Do you need something?" She asks trying to mask her grief.

"Y/N loved you," Chan states his voice soft and comforting. "You shouldn't be here right now. You should rest." Ae-ra shakes her head rapidly. "I-I will be beside Her Grace until her body is with god as well....I-if that is permitted, Your Grace." She states hesitantly. "A-and I need to be near for the investigation" Chan furrows his eyebrows. "Investigation?"

Ae-ra nods nervously "Yes, Your Grace..."

"Into you?"

"Yes, Your Grace"

"Ae-ra, You were the Dutchess' closest aide. You cared for her passionately and worked hard under her. You are the last person I would investigate in this matter. Go rest, Y/N would want you to rest." He states sullenly. Ae-ra stares at the Duke with a glum expression. "Your Grace?" Chan looks at the maid with a grief-stricken pout. "Her Grace had requested me not to inform you but considering....The Young Lady of the Manor has requested for the knights to refrain from attending their posts here at the annex. Perhaps whoever had done this knew about the minimal security." Ae-ra suggested her voice just above a whisper, hoping the Duke understood her intention and turned his attention toward his sister. "Kari will be dealt with if that's what you're concerning yourself with," Chan states darkly as his eyes glaze over with murderous intent. Ae-ra nods, not saying anything else as she bows to her employer before exiting the room. As she closes the door behind her, tears build in her eyes as she loses feeling in her legs and collapses to the ground in a puddle of tears.

*First Timeline- One Week After Y/N's Death*

"If I could do it all over again…I'd have never married you. My biggest regret was walking down that aisle…"

Those words have replayed in Chan's mind for hours now. The way her voice gurgled as she choked on her blood. He felt sick as he remembered her voice in her final moments. Why did he have to be here? Who was brave enough to help Kari go through with this? His mind raced as his heart ached uncontrollably. "My biggest regret was walking down that aisle…" He hated to admit it, but under those circumstances, he regretted it too. He wasn't the husband he should have been. He was negligent, he should have done more. He should have realized the fear she had to have had with how ruthless his sister could be. He never expected this though.

The reality of her absence is already becoming too much to bear. He couldn't understand what happened. How could she have been poisoned? He had been right there, staring at her. He was looking at her, he should have noticed the way she coughed. How hard it was for her to speak after she had drank her tea. When the blood flowed out of her mouth, he couldn't move due to his shock. Not even 10 minutes with her and now there's no more time. She's gone.....How could she be gone?

He hears a small panicked yelp as the door slams open forcefully, Chan's eyes finally leaving his beloved's portrait. He sees Felix standing there, his face stoic as the maid that had given Y/N her tea kneeled with her back to his aide as Felix's hand grips her hair harshly. "This is the rodent that has caused the commotion today" Felix states coldly, Chan lifts him from the ground as he stares at the maid. Her face is so prominently familiar in his mind, that he can't help but let out a mad laugh at the nerve of his temperamental sister. He takes slow predatory steps toward the maid, who looks up at him with fearful eyes. Felix's blood boils at her impertinence "You dare raise your head with all you've done!?" A bright sapphire light emanates from the mage as he forces the maid to the ground with a snap of his fingers, metal cuffs encase the maid's hands and ankles; pinning her to the ground. The maid trembles fearfully "Y-Your G-Grace, H-Have mercy...." she pleads tearfully as Felix snaps his fingers again and a large sapphire chain erupts from the ground encasing the maid's neck.

"Mercy!?" Felix growls as the chains begin to slowly tighten around the woman's neck. Chan chuckles darkly as he leans forward gripping the maid by her bun in the back of her head pulling her closer as he stares into her eyes. His eyes glow a bright scarlet "Did you grant Y/N such a courtesy?"

The maid gasps not expecting the question. "I-I....uhm"

"Fine. Tell me who ordered you to give the tea to the Dutchess?" Chan questions "If it proves to be useful, I shall grant mercy" The maid's eyes widen, the cogs in her head turning. Chan knows no matter her tenure as Kari's aide for all these years, the life of this commoner mattered more to her than her loyalties to his sister. "T-The h-head maid...S-she said the Lady had requested tea...Y-your Grace, I-I didn't know. Please, Your Grace, forgive me for this oversight" The brunette stammered. Felix and Chan's eyes connect for a moment, their silent communication clear. Chan nods to the mage, who releases the maid's bonds. She breathes a sigh of relief, placing her forehead on the ground. A small chuckle is released from her throat as she looks up at Chan. "T-Thank you, Your Gr--" Her words are cut off as Chan plunges a dagger through her throat. The maid gags as she stares at Chan wide-eyed. Blood fills her mouth as she begins gagging and breathing in her blood. Her pleads are covered by gurgles.

"Now you know, such oversites cannot be forgiven.....Dog." Chan states coldly as he twists the dagger roughly and kicks her off the blade by her shoulder. Felix stares at the body with dark cold eyes. "Lady Kari seems to have been taking advantage of your absence, Your Grace. Shall I finish this?" Felix questions gesturing toward the maid who was gurgling and gasping for air on the ground. His eyes glowed a bright sapphire.

"Did the Dutchess have such mercy?" Chan questions darkly as he takes one of Y/N's handkerchiefs from his lapel wiping the blood from his hands as he kneels over the maid. "They deserve to know the suffering they put my wife through until her final moments" Chan states. Felix smirks darkly at his master before nodding and walking toward the door.

"Wait," Chan calls as he stares at the maid continue to gurgle and gag, her body trembling as she struggles to breathe due to the blood continuously going into her windpipe. Felix halts his movements turning toward Chan. "Yes, Your Grace?"

"When harm is done to one's pet, it is proper etiquette to return the corpse and inform the owner, yes?" Chan states with a mischievous smirk as he walks toward the window he notices his sister sitting in the garden, her maids beside her as they enjoy tea. "And Kari seems so possessive of those dogs of hers. It would only be right" He finishes as he clenches his fist. Felix nods in understanding before he pulls a seal out from his inline pocket and places it on the dying maid's body, lifting his index and middle finger in front of his lips he closes his eyes as the sapphire light glows brightly and the pair disappear.

Chan feels his blood boiling as he watches his sister laughing with her parasitic friends. How dare she?! He knew his sister's temper could be considered tyrannical. She rarely allowed even her closest maids to make a mistake, yet Chan thought as long as he could keep a distance from Y/N, she'd be safe from his sister's wrath at not becoming the heir. A smirk formed on his lips as Felix's blue sapphire light shined over the table and Kari's personal maid's corpse lay in the middle of it. The noble women begin panicking scurrying away from the blood-soaked table like roaches, their fearful screams echoing through the garden. But Chan kept his eyes firmly on Kari, who sat bewildered at the head of the table as Felix politely bowed to her and transported away after a brief exchange. He watched as Kari glared at the corpse in utter shock and disbelief. Knowing his actions ignited a fire in Kari, Chan felt thrilled.

"Well, sister, you wanted to be the Dutchess so bad.....I'll be sure you know exactly how My Dutchess felt."

Flashback: One month after Y/N's Death

“Let me go! Do you not know your place?!” Kari growled as Felix continued to stand stone-faced. He sighed before continuing to bring Kari to his Master's office. Kari fumes as she continues to struggle with her hands tied behind her back with Felix's magic. Felix opens the door, Chan's seated at the center of the room. Aera stood beside him, placing a cup of tea in front of him. "Unhand me!" Kari growls as Felix sits her in front of Chan's desk. "What is the meaning of this?" Kari snaps at her brother. Chan gestures for Felix to release Kari's hands.

"My apologies, my dear sister but You have been refusing to see me for a long time" Chan states with a faux sincerity. "I had to take such measures to see my precious sister, it's made me wonder" His eyes darken as he stares at the brunette. "Have you been avoiding me? One would think, you've done something wrong....." He raises his eyebrow in amusement.

Kari stares at him blankly "I've chosen to undertake a vow of silence.." She states as she crosses her arms over her chest. "Shall I send a letter to the convent then?" Chan retorts smugly. Aera places a cup of tea in front of Kari. "I must thank you for your concern but please graciously accept my apologies... I'm in mourning I've lost two dear maids of mine" Kari smirks as she watches Aera closely.

Chan notices the subtly purple aura growing around the maid, and he taps on his desk twice, a signal to Aera to stand down. Kari stares daggers at the maid. Mumbling something inaudible under her breath; Kari stares down at the cup, her nerves slightly making her hands tremble. Chan knew, his sister's fear of retaliation made her guilt evident. Kari sighs before taking a hesitant sip. It was her! She was the mastermind, there was no doubt in his mind that the sister he held so dear through the years, had murdered the woman that he loved. His blood ran cold at his sister's nonchalance, he knew she had a brother complex and she felt a form of jealousy when she noticed his closeness to his fiance. How he wished he had chosen Y/N, and realized Kari's tyranny sooner. How could he let 10 years go by without taking his beloved in his arms a single time and telling her how much he loved her? and now, because of the girl in front of him vying for his position as the head of the family, Y/N was gone.

Chan had Aera and Felix preserve her body for as long as they could, but their magic was fading, and Y/N had begun to decay in her bed. He was at his wit's end, though the foolish maid had been dealt with, no commoner would make such a brazen move in front of a Duke without the backing of a powerful noble. The head maid had escaped the Dutchy before Chan could reach her as well, His frustration grew as time passed and he was unable to punish those he deemed responsible for his wife's mistreatment and subsequent death. Though he knew who was the true one responsible...It was his fault. His lack of awareness of his sister's brazen and bold temperament, his choice to spend more time at war and on expeditions, pushing her away.

He was the one truly responsible for his beloved's death. Though Kari was the one who signed her death warrant, He's the reason Kari did not know her place. Why her ambitions went further than they should have. But the longer he stared at her smug smirk as she crossed her arms and glared at him; the more he could feel his hand slowly inching toward his sword sitting on his hip. "Why did you have this brutish mage bring me here? I am supposed to go to the imperial palace the second princess is hosting the book club." Kari whines a small pout on her innocent-looking face.

"Nightshade is quite the flower isn't it?" Chan questions softly.

Kari looks at him with confusion "You've brought me here to discuss flowers? Brother, shall I have someone retrieve the doctor?" Chan smirks mischievously as his eyes darken "Did you forget who was your instructor on poisons? You seem to be quite proud to boast about your garden with many flowers to your friends, belladonna being your favorite correct? Y/N was killed by such a plant..." he states monotonously he pulls his sword from its holster pointing it directly at Kari's neck with a small flick of his wrist a small cut forms in the center.

"B-brother, The dutchess crossed the line too many times to be forgiven. she was weak, she was not fit to be by your side, but I would n-never!" Kari stammered in utter shock. Chan scanned his sister up and down for a moment, he knew she was lying. He knows it is her, but he has no evidence at this moment. The Crown Princess may support him, but not for unjustifiable homicide. Resisting the urge to swiftly remove Kari's head from her shoulders, he brings his sword back into its holster. He stares at Kari menacingly "If I learn otherwise...You will become permanently acquainted with my sword."

With her eyes wide and pleading Kari stares up at him "You jest..." she states in disbelief as her heart sinks into her stomach. "I do not....Orchestrating the murder of the Dutchess is punishable by death by order of the Emperor, as his most loyal vassal and valent knight I must hold his word true." He challenges her as he takes her chin between his forefinger and thumb. "I look forward to the day you admonish yourself, sister" He states the relationship almost like a taunt as he stands above her, a smug smirk on his lips as he grows giddy at the thought of plunging his dagger right into her petite throat. He finds the strength in him to hold back, lest he massacre the whole Manor.

Kari looks furious at his words "Does the crown mean more to you than your blood, brother? The Dutchy stood long before this Emperor's reign and shall stand tall long after his line is gone, his word is no more than a mere fallacy."

"You will do your best to mind your tongue...That is the ruler of this Empire and I will not be considered treasonous due to your insolence! And just remember, sister, that it is that very blood that courses through your veins that protects you from my sword at this moment" He snaps at her. Kari stares at him her anger evident in her expression as she straightens her back. "And you will do your best to remember I am not one to be challenged" Her voice laced with a warning "The most beautiful things in this world are also the most lethal, for it is their beauty that lulls you into a sense of security, Brother" her eyebrow raised as Chan feels his gut bubble in amusement as he imagines himself running his dagger over his sister's cheek and removing that beauty she spoke of.

"What is a beauty without their embellishments?" He questions as he rests on his chin. "Many in this world learn too late, their place. I should surely hope with the way you've been raised, it will not be too late when you learn yours. For what are you without the Bang family name but a pretty face? I hope for your friend's sake you do not forget this fact." He states as he raises his eyebrow challenging her to speak against him. When she sits quietly he continues his anger growing as each word spews from his lips " You are well past the age for you to have been married. You do not spend your days like a proper noblewoman yet speak like your place is anywhere but at the convent...You wished to be the heir yet never married and birthed an heir to the family line. You spend your days drinking tea as you gossip with your friends, and you have the gall to discuss our Emperor? Sister, I've protected you and sacrificed everything I had for you but you refuse to become anything but a disappointment. I should surely hope a month in the rose annex shall help you understand your wrongdoings......"

"No!" Kari argues as knights make their way over to her. "You cannot do this to me! I've done nothing wrong." Her face was red with rage as she tried to avoid the knights' grasp but she could not fight against their strength and speed.

"You will regret this!" Kari exclaims as she is dragged out of the office with a flurry of curses. Chan lets out a heavy sigh as silence falls over the room. He reaches for a small cup on his desk, slightly tilting it to its side he pulls out Y/N's wedding ring. Staring at the object his heart breaks once again. How could he have lost her? How could he go on without her? He feels his breathing grow heavier. He needed to return to her. He hated every moment he had to step out of that room. He felt like he couldn't breathe if he wasn't by her side. He couldn't understand how terribly it ached every time he crossed that threshold.

He feels a hand on his shoulder, pulling him from sinking deeper and deeper into despair. His eyes trail up the petite hand and he sees Aera's comforting yet grieving smile beaming back at him and a small purple glow emanates from her hand. A warmth fills his body and he feels his heart relax. "Thank you, Aera. Truly you have been a wonderful help" He gives her a gentle nod, signaling that he's okay.

"It is my duty, My lord" Aera states formally as she bows.

"Your husband being a stickler about the rules again?" Chan jokes to her trying to lighten the mood and Aera nods in response. "Behave the way you did with the Dutchess, if she acknowledged your competence then your husband should too. You are doing his work for him...." Aera nods as she bows. "I shall bring you tea in the Dutchess' room, Your Grace."

Chan gives her a soft smile "That sounds wonderful"

*Flashback-Later that day*

Aera walked calmly toward the Dutchess room in the Main House. She felt her heartache as she knew Y/N never got to experience what her husband truly wished for her. Her heartbroken for the Duke, so much so that she used her magic to delay Her Grace's decomposition for at least a year after she had tried to heal her and it had come to light that The Dutchess' body could be preserved. The Duke had gone mad and spent his days laying and reading to her corpse. She felt sorry for the Dutchess, she may never be fully rested, and pity for the Duke who loved his wife so dearly that he could not part with her after he had finally secured his position as the Duke and could no longer be challenged as the head of the Dutchy.

Aera approached the large double doors and gestured for the Knight to knock when she heard familiar voices. "Your Grace, It will not fail. We can save her...I can save her" Her husband's voice rang out. Aera's heart sunk into her chest. That fool she thinks to herself as she gestures for the knight to open the door. "What do you think you are saying, Felix?" Aera questions worriedly as she places the tray with the teapot on the small table in front of the Duke. "You are not suggesting that spell to His Grace correct?" Aera raises her eyebrow at her husband, "I can do it! she will not be harmed..." Felix argues.

"And what of her memories? The spell is not perfect and if you are going to turn back time then you need to allow her to remember what has happened to her!" Aera counters and Chan holds his hand up "Silence...." The pair turn toward the Duke and bow apologetically. Chan sighs "Felix will do the spell."

"Turning time back does not mean she will be safe, Your Grace. This can save her for a short while. The gods will not take this chance to save one life without another when the time comes" Felix warns.

"Then it shall be my own life or my sister's life as long as my wife gets to live the gods can burn the Dutchy with an inferno so bright that they form hell on earth. But Y/N lives...." He states definitively. Aera's face scrunched in opposition. "The Dutchess deserves her memories, do not deceive her. My loyalty shall only go far, Your Grace." She states coldly. "My Love....please, the memory of her own death may be too much to bear" Felix pleads as he caresses her cheek. "I just wish to give you, your purpose back. Your life, Her life....allow me to do this and help her be happy"

Aera looks away from him for a moment before reluctantly nodding.

*Present-2nd Timeline*

"What does this mean?" Chan questions worriedly as he grasps Felix's shoulders. Felix puts his hands up, trying to calm Chan down but knowing that Y/N having her memories is the last thing the Duke wanted. "Y-Your Grace...." Felix stammers nervously trying to find the easiest way to give him this news. Realization dawns on him, he feels his blood run cold as he stumbles back into a chair. His forehead rests on his palm as he lays his hand on the potion bench. "She has her memories...." He scoffs out in disbelief, as her behavior slowly becomes more and more understandable.

How could she want to marry the man who ignored her in her previous life? The man she believed was responsible for her death...

His chest ached as he felt his stomach bubble with nausea. She despises him...He was such a fool. The gods had to punish him for what he had done to her. Though it was Aera's interference and morality, He knew this was the way the gods were telling him that he needed to let Y/N go. His family had tortured her enough in their previous life when he was fighting to keep Kari's influence at bay, he used her for his own desires when it was convenient for himself, and He allowed Kari to grab hold of the Dutchy while he was away which ultimately lead to her death but how could he just let her go?

How could he give in to her wishes and call off their engagement? The notion seemed so foreign to him, removing her from his heart. He'd yearned for her for over 10 years in their previous life and hoped for a lover relationship in this one. What should he do to keep her at his side after all he's done just to bring her back to life? Over two months of collecting ingredients and brewing potions to keep his memories and Aera does it to Y/N with a wave of her hand. What more could be done?

His eyes darken as he continues to fall deeper and deeper into turmoil. He feels his anger slowly turning into possessive madness as he continues to allow his mind to wander. His title as the future Duke could be used. He tried to rack his brain to think of something--anything to keep her by his side. Moving the wedding up and locking her away seemed to be growing more and more appealing. How radiant she would look whilst locked in the very room he'd spent with her before he turned back time. Perhaps, he should relinquish his title and take her to the countryside estate and live out their days in secrecy. He felt himself growing less and less concerned with how she'd feel. How much she'd oppose being kept in a cage like a bird under his watchful eye. But what else could he do? Even if she grew to hate him.

"I'd never let you go, Y/N"

Taglist: @yangbbokari @lovesunshinefelix @oddracha @lizzetmv @msauthor @azazelstays @rylea08 @skzfelixlove @blondechannie e @moonchildlv @kibs-and-bits @5starlee @jstbrowsing0 @solandiszale le @pnutbutter-n-j-elyy @lizzetmv @hwanriri

[onmyyan]

Can I get Delmont HC’s for when one of their ex flings or situationships try to get at the Delmont’s again and reader just gets sad instead of jealous ☹️

Oh this was so good my hands started typing before I could stop em!

A/N: Yandere, murder mentioned in Marcos, Manny kills someone,

Starting with OG lover boy, Cas takes your relationship very, very seriously.

Let's set the scene, the two of you are cuddled up at a work party of yours and a coworker you didn't really talk to much comes sauntering over with a smile far too friendly for your liking, it made a nasty feeling settle deep within your gut, something about her gaze lingering on the tall man by your side made you feel uncomfortable.

"Caspian? I haven't seen you in ages! How are you these days?" She'd ask completely ignoring your presence. Your eye flickered from the long legged woman to your now tense boyfriend. Caspian was almost always relaxed and happy with you, so you immediately clocked his off behavior.

"Hey Ana, been good." Was his simple, curt response, his hand moved from it's warm spot on your waist to his pant pocket, (He felt his temper instantly rise and couldn't risk hurting you so he moved his clenched fist to his pocket.) and you felt silly about it afterwards but in that moment, that small action felt like a rejection. The ugly feelings brewing in your stomach made the drink on your tongue turn bitter.

"You look amazing Cas, I see you kept up with our gym routine after all huh?" She giggled as if it was an inside joke between them, her body faced him, now closer than before, and you felt like a stranger intruding on something personal, all too quickly, you felt your throat tighten.

"It's so crazy running into you here, I was just thinking about how much fun we had together, we should go out for a drink later, maybe catch up?"

Caspian stared long and hard at the woman but your emotions were quickly spiraling out of control, you could feel your gut twist at the thought of him entertaining her, and before you could hear his response, you muttered out a barley audible "Excuse me." To the pair, quickly making your retreat to the nearest bathroom, thanking the universe that it was empty because no sooner than you closed the door did your bottom lip start to tremble.

Had you stayed you would have seen the downright murderous look on your boyfriend's face.

In his head he's trying to figure out the best way to turn her down without embarrassing you at your job, it's the only reason he doesn't notice your sudden mood shift.

He was trying to process the woman's audacity, a curt decline on the tip of his tongue, when you suddenly disappeared from his side. In an instant panic, he not so subtly shoves his way past the woman to where he thinks you went.

He uses the tracker on your phone to track you down to the bathroom and fully intended on waiting by the door until you came out, but then he heard the sound he hated most in the world, you sniffling.

Bursts in the door like there's a fire, not caring about anything but getting to you, checking you over. He ignores your gasp and hushed whispers to get out before he got in trouble, and cradles your wet face between his big hands.

"What's wrong Honey? How can I help?" He's staring at you with those big red eyes, brows furrowed in concern, and you can't help the tearful giggle you let out at his behavior.

"It's stupid-"

"If it made my baby cry it's far from stupid." He corrects immediately, thumbs wiping at any stray tears left.

"That woman- the way she spoke to you. I just, I hated how that made me feel and I don't know- I'm sorry, we can just go back to the party okay?" You turn from him to face the mirror and in an attempt to brush past what you considered an embarrassing moment, begin wiping at the smeared mascara on your eyes.

He smacks his teeth at his own idiocy, he hadn't even considered how that stupid wench made you feel in the moment, god what must be running through your mind, he couldn't imagine an ex of yours trying to ask you out in front of him, the guilt swells immediately, he wanted to run back out there and throw that harlot down the stairs for making your pretty face fall the way it had.

Instead he made his way to the bathroom door and clicked the lock in place, you turned to face him but your questions died on your tongue as he made his way towards you with that particular dark look in his eye.

"Forgive me, my love. I didn't mean to make you upset, I just didn't wanna make a scene at your job." He says casually falling to his knees before you, his hands trailing up your calves, to your thighs, finally settling on the thin fabric of your underwear, he stared up from between your legs with the softest look on his face.

"Let me make it up to you Honey."

Gabe has a much more explosive reaction

You two are at the gym, Gabe was sweating and sitting there all gorgeous and shit, he's making sure you watch as he lifts, his veins bulging in his arms as he winks at you. "Be my spotter baby I need my motivation." He grits out with that wolfish smile stretched across his flushed face.

You weren't nearly as athletic as the man and sometimes it felt as if you didn't belong in the gym, but he was quick to snuff out these thoughts, swearing up and down he preformed better on his sets when you were watching, that he needed you by his side even if you weren't working out as well.

He not only wants you around because he can't get enough of you, but he also really wants you to see him be hot, unfortunately that meant everyone at the gym got to see it too.

"I'll be right back baby, gonna go grab you a water." You smile at his immediate pout, the grabby hands he makes as he demands a goodbye kiss, even though you'd only be gone a few moments, but that's all the time the blonde woman stalking up to him needs.

The stranger to you was an old fling of Gabe's, he barely recognized her when she invited herself to his personal space like she was allowed, the only reason he didn't immediately brush her off was because she said his name, he was confused as she neared him, her smile too wide to be genuine.

the blue haired giant was the best sex of her life and despite the fact that she saw his blatant affection for you, she made her move anyway.

You came back to quite the sight, Gabe sat stiffly on the machine he was at, his elbows on his knees as he stared up at the blonde beside him, his face set in that sinfully attractive hardened stare,

The woman currently leaning too close for comfort on his machine looked like someone out of a fitness magazine, she was fit, completely toned and gorgeous, you couldn't help the twinge of discomfort at how close they were, how they looked like the perfect couple.

You neared them awkwardly as her back was to you and heard her say, "It's been too long Gabriel, I miss you, god your body is still insane, what are your benching now 250? 300. You could definitely still toss me around the bed." Her tone was dripping in flirtation, she dragged a finger up the pole of the machine he sat on, leaning down to press her chest together.

Before you could think about turning away from the upsetting sight, Gabe abruptly stood up, his glare dead set on the woman, his eyes flickered to you, immediately clocking the way your shoulders shrunk in, how you seemed to deflate at the situation, he could practically read your mind, knowing how easily your brain went to the worst places, he felt his temper skyrocket at the mere idea of you being upset by this nobody.

"Baby! I think we should end this early yeah? I got a better idea for a workout that involves you, me, and my backseat." He says almost whining as he throws his sweaty body all over you, his arms holding you tight against his body as he kissed the top of your head, rocking into the hug.

"This place just let's anybody in, we should switch to a new gym." His glare turned to the woman, if looks could kill she'd be on the ground. "C'mon ma, let's go before I get belligerent."

Ricky fully ignores the interaction lmao it's so rude

You'd come to the Auto shop with a homemade lunch for your sweet Ricky as he forgot to pack his own and called you to bring him one (he definitely did this on purpose just to see you at work)

You enter the shop and start to head straight to the back before being stopped by a manicured hand snapping in your face rather rudely.

"Hi ma'am, you can't just walk in here, you have to make an appointment." The woman behind the receptionist desk was new, you'd never seen her in here before, she was practically sneering at you, her plastic, customer service smile held no warmth as she tapped her nail against the sign in sheet impatiently.

You laughed instinctually at the tense situation, trying to dispell the awkwardness, you didn't understand her hostility, "Oh my boyfriend works here, he's expecting me." You say offering her a friendly smile, trying to smooth over any unpleasantness.

"Well I'm going to need some identification." She says matter of factly, her body now blocking your path. "uh no?" You said not wanting the stranger to see your information, you'd come to the shop hundreds of times now, everyone knew who you were, everyone but this woman it seems.

She scoffed at your refusal her voice raising in anger as she glared at you, "If you don't cooperate I'll have to call security." She threatened not knowing how deep she was digging her grave.

"My love? What's going on." Ricky's deep, baritone voice suddenly called out from around the corner, he thought it was odd you hadn't appeared yet as his tracker app said you'd arrived at his work minutes ago, it wasn't like you to delay so he listened to his gut and went outside seeing you being harassed by the new receptionist.

His blood pressure rises instantly and he has to fight to keep his hands from yanking her away from you.

He'd only signed off on her hiring because he knew she was infatuated with him, they hooked up once a few years ago and she would do anything to have it happen again, of course Ricky had no intention of fulfilling her desires, he just needed someone he knew would keep their mouth shut if they happened to see/notice something funky with the shop.

But her value immediately diminishes the second she gets in your way, his glare could melt glass as he tells her a simple, but aggressive, "Move." He holds his arms out to you and when you curl into his touch he makes a point to kiss your temple, his focus completely on you. "Are you alright love? What was she doing?" He asks tenderly rubbing your face. The receptionist opens her mouth to respond but Ricky shuts her up with a single raised hand, "She was just asking for my ID, I brought your lunch!" You say excitedly, his gaze grows warm at the adorable sight before he turns to the woman, his eyes dead, his aura dark and imposing.

"Clean out your desk immediately, I want you out of my shop before I come back out here." His tone left no room for argument, almost threatening as he places a hand in the small of your back, gently leading you away. "You didn't need to do that for me-" he cuts you off with an intense, breath stealing kiss, "Of course I did, no one interrupts our time together."

Marcos had always been afraid of his promiscuous past coming back to haunt him, and his violent reaction to this shows.

The two of you had been at a club for a while now, both proper sloshed and sweating, hours of grinding on each other to every song that came on the thumping speakers, he's in heaven with his arms around your waist, his nose buried in your neck as he mouths needy kisses up and down your throat.

You motion towards the bar, your drunk body demanding more alcohol and he begins leading you towards it, his hands never leaving your body.

He all but pushes a guy out of his seat so you can rest there while he gets the bartenders attention. He freezes when the woman turns around. The bartender shoots him a knowing, flirty grin, leans over close and yells over the pounding music, "Hey Marcos baby, you come back for more? I can take my break right now if that's the case."

His eyes flicker to you and his heart stutters at the sad look on your face, be it the copious amounts of liquor you had in your body or how just how gorgeous the woman hitting on him was, you feel your spirits drop, your mind tortured you with images of them together, of him with another, and the insecurities bubble up faster than you can handle, "scuse' me." You drunkenly mutter clasping a hand over your mouth, your stomach felt queasy all of a sudden and you all but ran to the bathroom on shakey legs.

Marcos is seeing red, his mind panicking as he watches you retreat to the bathroom he feels sick himself at the thought of you leaving him, the fear that you may be comparing yourself to such a nothing person, the terrifying thought of this insignificant person making you see him different, it had his chest heaving in a barley concealed rage.

He fixes his burning stare on the bartender, his eyes holding pure malice as he holds himself back from pressing his thumbs into her eyes and slamming her into the bar until it broke.

He says nothing to her, his eyes making her so uneasy she baked away slightly, his mouth felt dry as he pushes and bullies his way past the crowd to barge into the bathroom where he finds you curled around the toilet, he's falling to his knees beside you in an instant, he keeps your hair from your face, a soothing hand on your back as you empty your stomach.

His words are soft and encouraging as he helps you to your feet, uncaring about his expensive clothes being dirtied, uncaring of how messy you look, his eyes are full of love, even a bit teary as he helps you to the sink, as you wash your mouth out he's wetting a paper towel and dabbing the cold cloth to your burning neck, "Oh baby, my sweet girl are you okay? I'm so sorry, come here let me see you."

The moment sobers him entirely, he's calling a deluxe Uber to pick you both up and sending a message to his twin about the bartender, he wanted the bitch dead for even momentarily causing you to frown, he's holding your swaying form against him protectively as he waits for the car, his mind swirling with thoughts of violence and revenge, how dare that waste of air upset you so much? The crime would be repaid in blood.

Manny has the most volatile reaction.

The two of you are a late night, semi exclusive car show, Manny loved watching the races, he stopped racing in them the second you said you worried for his safety but his love for the adrenaline filled sport remained, the classic cars were beautiful and he always smiled so brightly when you indulged his more risky interests.

He loved pointing out the racers he liked or hated, his favorite cars and why, sharing this with you was one of his favorite ways to pass time. You always looked so beautiful under the neon lights, the smell of gasoline in the air.

It's rare for him to leave your side when you're out and about so this happens in front of you, the two of you are cuddled up together, sat comfortably on the hood of his car, his arms around you as you leaned back into his chest, when a woman in leather saunters up to his car.

"Hey Manny, long time no see pretty boy." The woman coo's from her position, her eyes drinking him in, blatantly ignoring your existence.

"Yeah." Is Manny's only response, his grip on your hips tightening before he moves from holding you against him to stepping in front of you, keeping his body between you and what he felt was a threat.

His hair moved everytime a car whizzed by him, but he didn't flinch, his cold eyes trained on the woman from his past.

His voice was clearly irritated, tone leaving no room for friendly interpretation, and yet she persisted, taking a step closer to the tall man who had begun to clench his fists, his body trembling in unfiltered rage.

"You wanna' take another ride? This time if I win, I get my prize up front." Her tone was clear, her implication made more lewd as she looked him up and down.

"Don't talk to me like you know me. Don't talk to me like you're somebody." His voice was dripping venom as he spoke, and if he wasn't furious before, the sad, almost deflated look on your face at her comments made him see red.

The crowds of people were so thick and intense, the loud sounds of the revving engines and screaming spectators only added to his slip of control.

"Relax Manny baby! I'm just teasing you." She puts her hand on his chest and before you could blink the woman's body is flying out towards the road where a car smacks into her with a sick crunch, her limp body is dragged as the car speeds along, unaware of the carnage it caused, screams and shouts of horror come from all around you, people beginning to panic as Manny turns around, all malice gone from his face as he lifts you off the car and ushers you to the passenger seat without a word. "Time to go!" He all but sings as he peels out of the parking lot.

"Holy shit are you okay?" You asked him turning back to stare as the horrifying scene grew farther and farther from his rearview mirror. He placed a shaky hand on your thigh to calm himself as he spoke, "I'm okay baby girl, are you? I'm so so sorry you had to see that." He says, his only guilt came from your date night being cut short.

"Don't be sorry baby, no one could have known that would happen Jesus Christ." You put a hand to your chest trying to ease the fierce beat, he grabbed your free hand, bringing the back of your palm to his lips for a sweet kiss, his eyes crinkling in joy at the thought of her now crumpled body.

"Yeah, accidents happen."

[roseghoul26]

Chapter 12: What Would He Do If He Found Us Out?

Synopsis: A fic based off the song “ivy” by Taylor Swift. After a startling introduction to the man, Arthur Morgan became the most important part of your life. Married at a young age to an older, wealthy man to help your family, you were trapped in a loveless marriage, your only sense of escape with the rugged cowboy. Will you be able to keep your affair hidden, or will your husband find out, and destroy the last thing that made you happy?

Tags: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Strangers To Lovers, Infidelity, Fem!Reader, She/Her Pronouns Used For Reader, Period Typical Misogyny, Emotional Manipulative Relationship (not with Arthur), Mostly Follows Timeline of Game, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Not Beta Read, Slow Burn, First Kiss, Arthur Is Bad At Emotions, Confessions, First Time Together, Cunnilingus, Missionary, Doggy Style, Handjobs, Mirrors, Party, Semi-Public Sex, Quickies, Unsafe Sex, Kidnapping, Murder, Torture, Betrayal, Attempted Murder, Tags Updated Per Chapter

Author’s Note: This story is gonna start getting dark and sad, so heads up. Content warnings for this chapter: kidnapping, murder, light torture, and misogyny.

Taglist: @lokiofasgard12 @ultraporcelainpig @that-one-beannnn @morethantheycansay@nn-hh192 @photo1030 @just-pure-trash @julialoopeezz @hqxee @salientseraph @crypticlxrsh @lorenaloveslewis @tswizzleislike8foot4 @oziozzioslo

Chapter List

The sound of two men talking is what you woke up to, barely audible over the ringing in your ears and the rain coming down in heavy sheets. 

Blinking away the remnants of unconsciousness, the back of your head screamed out in pain as you raised it. You tried to grit your teeth but were unable to do so with the cloth between your lips, tied so tightly that it hurt. Confusion washed over you momentarily, before the memories of what happened before you lost consciousness came back. 

Panic took over now, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you whipped your head around, trying to find the source of the voices. You tried to move your arms, but they were unsurprisingly tied down, ropes long having since irritated your skin. 

The room you were in was dimly lit, moonlight trickling in from the window well, the only window you could see in the room. It only took a few moments of glancing around before recognition flashed in your mind. You were in the basement, a place you’d only been into on two occasions. Both times you’d been escorted by Hans, as he had the only key. So that means someone either took his key or…

On cue, a figure emerged from the shadows, finally noticing that you were awake. A lantern was in his hand, casting shadows across his face, and it took you having to squint to make out who it was. 

It was the beard you made out first, then his eyes, anger making them furrow. Any noises you made were muffled behind the cloth as Hans stood in front of you, bringing the lantern close to your face. You could feel the heat from both the lantern and his gaze burning your skin.

A second figure emerged from the shadows behind Hans, face obscured. The new figure placed a hand on Hans’ shoulder, pulling him back a few feet from you. He leaned down in front of you until his face was level with yours, allowing the lantern to fully illuminate his face. Your blood ran cold when you immediately recognized him, despite not seeing him for two years. 

It wasn’t your father, who you were expecting. 

No, seeing him hadn’t even been a possibility in your mind. 

A cruel smile pulled at his lips, something you’d never seen on him growing up, and you felt genuine terror. “Hello, sister.” Even though it had only been two years since you last saw him, he looked… different. Physically, he looked the same, hair a little longer, the last remnants of his soft, boyish features having vanished. It was his demeanor that was different, eyes cold and calculating, an air of superiority to his actions. 

His grin turned wider when you tried to talk, and in the low light, you saw the flash of a blade. Instinctively you leaned back as far as you could, nearly toppling the chair you were tied to in the process. But you could do nothing but watch as your brother brought the blade up to your face, cutting through the fabric between your lips. But he pressed too hard, and tears stung your eyes as he cut your cheek as well. “Whoops,” he muttered, not sounding the tiniest bit remorseful. 

He tugged the cloth from your mouth, turning red from the blood now dripping from your cheeks, and you stretched out your aching jaw. “J-Joey? What’re you doin’?”

He visibly flinched at the nickname, anger flashing in his eyes. “We ain’t children anymore. You best remember that.”

You swallowed, your throat dry and scratchy. Betrayal unlike anything you’d felt before tore at your heart, but you still refused to believe that your brother would do anything to harm you. “Joseph. What. Are. You. Doing?”

He laughed at that, standing back upright, swinging the blade without a care in the world. “What does it look like? I’m making sure everythin’ doesn’t fall apart.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” 

“She still doesn’t know?” Your brother directed the question at Hans, who nodded. “I have to say, I’m impressed. I hadn’t expected you to hold up your end of the deal so well.”

If Hans was offended, he didn’t show. “What fuckin’ deal?” You spat out, eyes flicking between the two men.

“Now, that ain’t no talk for a lady. And I don’t think you’re in any position to be askin’ questions.”

You could hardly recognize the person in front of you, your younger brother. Long gone was the wide-eyed child that asked you to read him to sleep, or to mend his broken stuffed animals. “Joseph-”

You were cut off when he stuffed the cloth back into your mouth, nearly making you gag, and you resisted the urge to bite down on his fingers. Hurting him wouldn’t be in your favor right now. “You never know when to be silent, do you?” He asked, shaking his head lightly. “Even when we were kids, you could never just be quiet. You always had to be the center of attention, to get everything that you wanted. It was always about you.” 

He crouched down in front of you, resting the dagger on your thigh. “Do you know what it’s like, to to live in your shadow? To always be second to you. To watch you get everything, and leave me with crumbs?”

You managed to spit out the cloth, making his recoil slightly. “What’re you talkin’ ‘bout?” He sighed, and you couldn’t help the slight bit of anger that flared. “Answer me!”

A sharp slap across the face stunned you, rings cutting into your cheek. Tears once again sprung to your eyes, and they flowed down your cheeks, mixing with the blood there. “God, you’re insufferable. You put up with this for two years?”

“She was never this… combative,” Hans admitted, talking about you like you weren’t a person, but a prize horse he was trying to sell.

“Let’s see those manners that mother taught you.” When you remained silent, a pleased look appeared on his face, getting true enjoyment from watching you break. “Very good,” he spoke condescendingly, following your gaze when you tried to avert it. 

You flinched when you felt the blade graze your leg, dangerously close to breaking skin. “Mr. Van Buren.” Hans’ tone was undistinguishable, but your brother took it as Hans was watching him doing something he wanted to do. 

The only word you could use to describe Joseph’s smile was sadistic as he stood, handing the knife to Hans. The older man eyed it warily, yet he still took it. His hands shook, but whether it was because of nerves or age you couldn’t tell. “Apologize,” Joseph spoke, taking a step back. “I’ll save you the honors. You’ve plenty you’d like to say to your wife, I suppose.”

“That I do.” His words made you shiver, a deathly anger to them, and for the first time since you’d gotten married, you were afraid of him. Knife in hand, he took Joseph’s place, and you felt the blade poke back into your leg. It would take one slice and you’d bleed out, and so you kept as still as you could. 

You didn’t have to think hard to know what Hans was about to say to you; it was either going to be about his business or Arthur. God, how you wished for Arthur to be here right now, to kick down the door and save you. But that was just a beautiful fantasy, one that brought you the tiniest semblance of comfort. It was at that point you realized that the only reason you weren’t fighting back was the possibility of never seeing him again. You were more likely to survive if you complied, right?

“How long?” Hans asked, demanded. 

“How long…?” You had to be careful now, not wanting to admit to something he didn’t know about.

“Don’t play coy,” he gritted his teeth, pressing the blade down harder. “How long were you working with them?”

“Helpin’ the Van Der Linde gang exploit your moonshine business?” A curt nod was all you got in response, but even then you could see a slight bit of surprise by your bluntness. “Since a few weeks after we met Mr. Van Der Linde in Rhodes.”

He chewed over your words for a few moments, time ticking by torturously slow. His expression was unreadable, which made you more worried than anything. His next question you weren’t expecting, your eyes widening in both shock and horror. “How long has he been coming over for?” So he knew about both things.

You both stared at each other, words escaping you momentarily. “For even longer,” you whispered, thinking it would be a smarter choice to tell the truth. “He… he kept me company while you were away.”

“‘Kept you company’,” he scoffed, partially in disbelief. 

You mustered up enough courage to ask a question. “How did you-” 

“I didn’t know for certain, but I had my suspicions when you wouldn’t put that newspaper down. Then I remembered how you used to stare at him like he was a saint, not some deranged outlaw, and it just clicked. I finally opened my eyes, refusing to ignorantly believe that after all I’ve done for you, that you’d betray me like that.”

“You’ve done nothing for me,” you seethed, pulling at your restraints, all cautions thrown to the wind. Two years of pent-up emotions came tumbling out, and you could do nothing to stop them. “You treated me like I was a fuckin’ accessory, not a person. You kept me caged, controlling everything little thing I did, trying to sculpt me into who you wanted me to be. And I let it happen, ‘cause I thought by sacrificing my fuckin’ freedom that I was helpin’ my family. But turns out that was all a lie,” you glared at Joseph, who seemed to be reveling in your outburst. “You didn’t care about me. You didn’t love me. So why should you care that I had someone else take care of that need?”

“Because you’re mine,” Hans practically screamed at you, the vein at his temple bulging. “You’re my wife, and I don’t like people touching what’s mine.”

“I don’t belong to you,” you leaned forward, bringing your face as close to Hans as you could. You were surprised to find that you were able to move closer than you thought, the ropes looser than they were originally, your trashing no doubt making them so. But you kept your revelation to yourself, showing no indication on your face. “I am my own person. No one has claim to me.”

“What about Arthur?” You hated the way he said his name. 

“I belong to him as much as he belongs to me. Unlike you, he respects me. He treats me like a person, and he listens when I talk. He cares about me. He loves me. He’s earned the right to claim me as his, but only because I let him. I never gave that permission to you.”

“Then where is he?” Joseph finally spoke, not trying to hide the smugness in his voice. “If he cares about you as much as you claim, then where is he?” He chuckled, responding before you could answer. “If my memory serves me well, Arthur Morgan hasn’t been seen alive since the robbery in Saint Denis.” 

You didn’t give him the satisfaction of upsetting you, as much as you wanted to let your face fall. “He’s alive,” was all you said, a certainty you weren’t expecting in your infliction.

He just laughed. “If it makes you feel better, then keep telling yourself that.”

You took a shuddering breath. “What do you want?” You finally asked, glancing between Hans, who still sat crouched in front of you, and your brother, who was pacing slowly. Carefully, you began to twist your wrists, the action going unnoticed by the two men, loosening the rope even further. You swore you could slip your hands out if you wanted; you just needed an opportunity to do so. 

“I’m making sure that you don’t mess everything up, sister. I’ve worked so hard to make sure everything’s been perfect for the past two years, and I’m not about to let you mess it all up.” Joseph spoke as he walked past you, heading straight to the basement stairs. “Do with her as you wish, Hans. Just make sure she stays… quiet.” 

“Joseph, don’t-”

“I’ll send the family your regards. Oh, how excited they were to hear from you again.” You couldn’t see him any longer, but you knew he was smiling. “How tragic that a terrible, contagious illness has rendered you bedridden.”

“Joey-”

Slam!

The basement hatch closed, shaking the foundation of the house, and making your head pound. With a thundering heart, you realized it was just you and Hans in the basement, and he still had the knife trained on your leg. A whimper left you when he dragged it up until it poked you right in the center of your chest. “You’ve humiliated me, you know,” you heard Hans mutter. 

“I’m… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t lie to me,” his voice was dripping with hatred. “You’re just gonna make this harder for yourself.”

“Hans-”

“Just a quick thrust, and it’ll be done.” He was mainly speaking to himself, his eyes trained on the blade that sat above your heart. “Or should I draw this out, make it hurt?”

Too distracted by the prospect of doing unimaginable things to you, he didn’t notice that your hands were now free of their bindings. A well-aimed punch to the nose sent him falling backward, his head hitting the hard cement floor. It wasn’t enough to render him unconscious, but it disoriented him momentarily, and he lost grip of the knife, sending it scattering across the floor. 

You were on your feet in seconds, thankful that they hadn’t had the mind to tie your legs down. Hans had just recovered when you got the weapon in your hands, holding it out in front of you. “Let me go,” you warned him, taking slight pride in the fact that his nose was now crooked, blood spewing from it. 

“You bitch,” he roared, making you panic that Joseph heard him. You didn’t have much time to think, though, before he was lunging at you. You managed to sidestep him, his movements slow, but weren’t expecting him to stick out a leg as you ran past. It wasn’t enough to make you fall to the floor, but you stumbled. 

It gave him enough of an opportunity to reach at you from behind, arms wrapping around your waist as if he had completely forgotten you had a knife in your hands. Or maybe he was convinced that you wouldn’t use it. If that was the case, then he was in for the surprise of his life.

It only took one plunge into his arm before he was letting you go, a cry of pain leaving him. Even in the dim light, you could see the blood now coating the blade, and you had to fight back a wave of nausea. 

Spinning around, you watched as he gripped his now wounded forearm, crimson spilling between his fingers. Pure hatred shone in his eyes, and you watched as he let go of his injury to reach for something in his pocket. All you had to see was the grip of a gun before you were lunging at him yourself, blade outstretched. 

A horrible noise filled the room as the knife burrowed into his chest, the breath being knocked out of Hans as it did. Slowly, he looked down to where it was embedded, then back up to you, the fire slowly leaving his eyes. You heard your name being muttered before he fell to his knees in front of you, life quickly leaving his body.

He tried to speak again, but could only muster a small gurgle. Bile rose in your throat, but you forced it back down. “Oh, God,” you whimpered and were about to run your hands down your face until you noticed they were covered in blood. 

You could do nothing but watch as Hans finally fell, head hitting the cement as the last bit of air left his body, before going completely still. Despite everything, you couldn’t help the tinge of sorrow you felt in your heart, never have taken a life before, and a small sob left you. 

Thudding from upstairs quickly tore you from your lamenting, and taking a steadying breath you regained enough composure to move. With shaky hands, you grabbed the gun that was still in Hans’ pocket, making sure to not look at his face, the expression of shock forever etched onto it. Your hands shook as you grasped the weapon, which you were relieved to find was a revolver, albeit a bit heavier than the one Arthur taught you to use. Still, you’d be able to use it. 

Another loud thump from upstairs made you jump, and you realized you needed to get the hell out of there. Going up the stairs was out of the question, leaving you with just the window as well as your only means of escape. Dashing over, you were relieved to find that the window locked from the inside, and was definitely large enough to allow you to crawl through. 

Throwing the window open, you were immediately met with rain pelting your skin, irritating the wounds on your body. Shrugging it off, you climbed into the well, fighting with your skirts the entire time. Eventually, you were able to stand, and slowly but surely you began to climb up the brick walls, not before tossing the gun to the top.

You’d barely gotten halfway out before you heard the sound of the basement hatch being slammed open, and adrenaline took over You refused to let yourself be taken prisoner by your brother. Another thought crossed your mind, providing you with the extra push you needed to climb out of the well; you needed to see Arthur again. 

Gasping for breath, you lay on your back for a second, your body immediately getting soaked with rain. Glancing around, you recognized that you were in front of the house, the porch to your right. You didn’t even bother to glance at it, heading straight for the dark forest that surrounded your house.

Grimacing, you grabbed the gun and stood up, your bare feet squishing into the mud as you began to run. Where to, you had no idea, but you needed to escape. So caught up in surviving, you failed to notice the two horses tied up near the entrance, one of them nickering in recognition. 

You’d barely stepped foot into the forest before you heard your name being shouted, loudly despite the rain coming down heavily. Despite how loud it was, you couldn’t recognize the voice. Or maybe you refused to recognize it. All you know is that it just pushed you deeper into the forest, your running turning into a full-on sprint. 

Sticks and twigs tore at you as you sprinted, cutting into your skin. Your bare feet cried out in pain with every sharp rock and piece of wood you stepped on, but you ignored them. But you could only run for so long, especially with how heavy your dress had gotten from the rain, and before you knew it you were slowing down. 

Ducking behind a large tree, you gave yourself a moment to catch your breath, the gun shaking in your hands. It was then you finally heard the sound of someone tearing through the forest behind you, and you readied the gun in your hand as they drew closer. 

It was incredibly dark, and you could barely even see a few inches in front of you. Making yourself as quiet as possible, you could feel your heart pounding in your chest as you waited. 

And waited.

And waited, until finally a dark figure appeared at your right, their steps slow. He was leaning forward, like he was following your track, before looking up in confusion when it suddenly stopped. It was then you cocked the gun, making the stranger spin around, his hands up. 

You couldn’t make out his features, but you didn’t have to see him to know who it was. Still, you wouldn’t let yourself believe it was actually him, and you held the gun up in front of you, both hands gripping it, just like he taught you. 

You heard your name leave his lips, oh-so softly, the familiarity of it making your heart ache. Yet, you shook your head, keeping the gun raised high, despite the way your hands shook. He took a step towards you, keeping his hands raised, and you didn’t stop him. Even as he brought his hands on top of the barrel and pushed it down gently, you didn’t stop him. It was like you’d lost control of your body. 

Tears mixed in with the rain that ran in rivulets down your cheeks, a pained noise leaving you as you finally let the gun drop. He caught it before it hit the ground, and he pocketed it, eyes never once leaving yours. Even though you knew those blue eyes so well, you couldn’t bring yourself to move anymore, and a sympathetic sigh left the man in front of you. 

“Darlin’...” he murmured, voice raspier than you remembered, and a calloused hand grasped your face softly, reverently. 

“Arthur?” Your voice cracked and wavered, yet it was hopeful. 

“Unfortunately,” he tried to joke, but emotion made his words sound heavy. A thumb brushed over your cheek, narrowly avoiding the wound there. “What did they do to ya…”

Finally, a sob tore through you, and it wasn’t so much that your body let you move than it was your legs giving out beneath you, and you flung your arms around his shoulders. His body was thinner than you remembered, yet it was still him, and another sob racked your body as you buried your face into his neck. He still smelled of gunpowder and tobacco. 

Oh, how you missed that scent.

Immediately, his hands were on you, one of them cradling the back of your head, the other resting on the small of your back. His lips pressed against the top of your head, providing an overwhelming sense of relief to flood your body. You were safe. He was alive. 

Arthur murmured sweet nothings into your ear as he held you, letting you cry and sob and shake in his embrace. Even as the rain soaked both of your bodies, he continued to hold you, like the elements did not affect him. 

Eventually, your cries rescinded, coming out as hiccups instead. Peeling your head away, you glanced up at Arthur, still partially convinced that this was all a dream. His hair was longer than last time, and instinctively you reached a hand to run your fingers through it, at least as well as you could with his hat on. “I’m so sorry-”

“You came back to me,” you cut him off accidentally but were glad of it.

“Of course,” he responded almost immediately, instinctively. “I promised, didn’t I?”

“But… but what happened, Arthur?” I thought you were dead. 

He sighed, a soft smile still on his lips. “I promise I’ll tell ya, but you’re gonna catch your death out here. Let’s get back to the house.”

You shook your head, fear overtaking you momentarily. “He’s back at the house, I-”

“We’ve got him, darlin’. Don’t worry ‘bout that.” He paused a moment, unsure of how to ask the next question. “And your husband?”

“Dead.”

You had no idea if he realized that you were the one who killed him. He simply nodded and then placed another gentle kiss on your head. You felt an arm secure behind your legs, and you weren’t given a chance to protest before he was lifting you bridal-style. “Let’s get outta here.”

You didn’t have any arguments against that. Now that adrenaline had worn off, you finally realized how cold you were, shivering in Arthur’s grasp, despite the warmth you felt radiating from his body. It was strange, the way everything seemed to click into place once you were back in his arms. He expertly weaved his way through the forest, careful not to let any more branches snag at your body, and eventually, the house came into view.

You weren’t shivering because of the cold anymore, and you pressed yourself as close as you could to Arthur. You hated how small those two men were making you feel, and how much power they had over you even though they were both currently not an issue. A light cough from Arthur tore you from your thoughts, and it seemed like he was holding back a coughing fit.

He carried you right up the porch stairs and right into the house, setting you on your feet in the living room. You cringed as your mud-covered feet made contact with the ground, and you felt him chuckle lightly. “I’ll clean it, I promise.”

Any response you had tied in your throat when you saw movement out of the corner of your eye in the kitchen. It wasn’t the tied-up unconscious form of your brother that you saw first, rather it was the woman with a gun behind him. Something about her was familiar, and despite every instinct in your body telling you otherwise, you took a step towards her.

It was her eyes that you recognized, ones you’d seen in Arthur’s sketchbook. They were filled with rage, just like you remembered. If you thought they made you uneasy in a drawing, it was even worse in person. Still, you kept your head up high, not wanting to make a bad impression. 

You felt Arthur behind you, a hand planted on the small of your back. “Darlin’, this is-”

“Sadie Adler,” you finished his sentence, catching them both by surprise. 

“Mrs. Kerrigan,” she nodded to you. 

“Please, just my first name is fine. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” You took another step towards her, bowing your head slightly. “Although I would’ve preferred it to be under less… macabre circumstances.”

She chuckled at that, falling into an easy stance. “The feeling’s mutual. Arthur’s told me all about you.”

“Is that so?” You turned to look at Arthur, who met your eye, yet had a slight blush to his cheeks. Now in a well-lit area, you noticed that his skin was tanner than the last time you saw him, yet even that couldn’t hide how tired he looked. The circles beneath his eyes were impossibly dark, and you could now see that his eyes were bloodshot. You opened your mouth to ask about it, but the sound of your brother groaning captured your attention.

When you turned, you saw that Sadie had her gun already trained on him, her other hand yanking back his head by the hair. “What’re you doin’ here?” You hear Sadie ask, her voice sounding more like a growl than anything. “Whaddya want with her?”

You answered for him. “He’s my brother,” you explained softly, and you heard Arthur inhale sharply. “He and my husband struck a deal two years ago, but apparently I was close to ruinin’ whatever they had goin’ on. They… they were gonna kill me.” You rubbed at your irritated wrists, which allowed Arthur to finally see the rope burn there.

Warm hands encapsulated your wrist, tugging it towards his chest as he moved beside you. His expression was nothing short of murderous, his jaw clenched so tight you swore you could hear his teeth grinding. “They tied ya up?” He asked like he couldn’t even fathom someone doing that to you. 

You nodded your head, flashes of the last hour popping into your mind, but you ignored them as best you could. “Thankfully they weren’t very good at it.”

He hummed in agreement. “What’s this ‘bout a deal?”

“I ain’t too sure,” you admitted. “All I know is it had to do with my marriage. He refused to tell me anythin’ more.”

“We’ll get some answers for ya.” The sound of Sadie’s voice made you jump, momentarily forgetting she and your brother were still in the room. Even still, you could get so distracted by Arthur, especially when he was touching you. He let your wrist drop, but he kept a light touch on your back, reminding you of his presence, comforting you. 

Your brother groaned your name as he continued to come to, brows furrowed in confusion when he felt the rope restraints around his arms and legs. “W-What’s goin’ on?” He slurred out, eyes darting between you and Arthur, wincing when Sadie tugged harshly at his hair.

“I don’t think you’re in any position to be askin’ questions, brother,” you spat his own words back at him. 

“Oh, spare me the dramatics,” he scoffed, his attitude returning to him, despite the position he was in. “What do you want?”

“I want, no, deserve an explanation.” You were impressed by how steady your voice was. “What deal did you make with Hans? What did you do?”

He attempted to struggle against the ropes, but his attempt was cut short by the sound of a gun being cocked behind him. “She asked ya a question,” the woman behind him spoke lowly. 

He sighed dramatically like this was all some minor inconvenience. “Look, this is all a small misunderstanding-”

“‘Small misunderstanding’?” Your voice rattled your ears. “This is my fuckin’ life we’re talkin’ ‘bout here! Not a petty disagreement!”

“Bring Hans in, and we’ll explain-”

Without thinking, you grabbed the knife off of Arthur’s belt, too quick for him to stop you. All you could see was red as you charged at your brother, yet you still had enough restraint to prevent the blade from sinking into his chest. Instead, the tip of it poked his skin, most likely hard enough to draw blood beneath his shirt. “He’s dead, Joseph. I killed him. And I’m gonna kill you too if you don’t start talkin’.”

You were grateful that neither Arthur nor Sadie tried to ease you away. Instead, they watched on, both impressed in their own ways. For a moment, you saw fear flash across your brother's face, clearly not expecting his docile sister to ever attempt to bring harm to him. He gulped, face turning pale, and you watched as his eyes flicked to Arthur, attempting to find any help in this situation.

“You best answer her,” is all Arthur said, taking a step closer to you. Not to stop you, but in support. 

“Sister-”

“Tell me.”

“I don’t-”

“Tell me!” 

He cried out when you pressed the blade in deeper, his head bobbing in all directions. “Okay! Okay! J-Just stop! Please!” Tears ran down his cheeks, and for a moment you saw your little brother again, scared and helpless, and despite yourself, you felt an instinctive need to protect him. But you were able to shake that off, especially when his eyes returned to your own, filled with intense malice. 

He sighed out in relief when you let up some, and he let his head hang limply. “Me… Me and Hans came to an arrangement two years ago. He’d get a wife, you, and unrestricted travel through northern New Hanover, for his moonshine. And I would receive a cut of his profits,” he took a breath, “and I would be free of you.”

“Free of me?”

He groaned. “Yes. With you out of the picture, I’d be the one to inherit the family’s business. I wouldn’t have to live in your shadow anymore. I’d be the head of the Van Buren family, as is my right as a first-born son. I don’t know what father was thinking, planning to let his daughter inherit everything. It goes against everything society expects, and if that were to happen, we’d be freaks. Outcasts. I did this to protect our family.”

“Oh no, don’t lie. You did it for your own selfish needs. You were jealous.”

“And so what if I was?” Joseph snarled. “Our entire childhood, you were treated like you were a goddess. Whatever you wanted, you got. If you were wrong, you were right. Mother and father catered to your every whim, while I was told to figure it out myself.”

“How is that my fault?”

He ignored you. “So yeah, I was jealous. But any person in that position would be. And when father said he was signing away all ownership of the business to you, I damn near lost it.”

“And so you thought the next best thing to do was to marry me off, which you had no right to do.”

“I didn’t marry you off. That was father’s doing.”

“But why?” Joseph looked away, and your stomach dropped. “You made him do it.”

“It didn’t take much to convince father that you’d fallen pregnant with Hans’ child. Rather than deal with the embarrassing matter of your first-born daughter having a child out of wedlock, he agreed to let you marry Hans to prevent any sort of ill reputation from falling on our family. But being the kind man he is, he didn’t want to humiliate you by letting you know that he knew you were with child, so he lied and told you that this was for… what was it… ‘financial stability’.” 

You couldn’t tell if you wanted him to be silent or to spill every detail. Your head was spinning so much you swore you were about to collapse. 

“But… he wouldn’t just take you at your word. Right?”

Joseph shook his head, chuckling humorlessly. “Your handwriting is quite easy to replicate sister. A few fake letters between you and Hans, paying a few people to spread some rumors, it didn’t take much.” He paused, remembering something. “Remember how sick you got a week before your wedding?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

He ignored you again. “It was like the smell of food made you sick, and each morning you’d be hunched over a bowl. A bit suspicious, no?”

“What did you do?”

“Our staff is surprisingly easy to pay off,” he laughed. “It only took a bit of money to get the chefs to slip a little something extra into your meals.”

You gasped, recoiling from him slightly. “You… you poisoned me?”

His mouth opened and closed like he was trying to find some other explanation, but he eventually gave up. “Yes.”

So many questions bounced around your head. Why Hans? What was the extent of his part of the agreement? Why couldn’t I see the rest of our family? Why didn’t you just talk to me? 

There were so many questions, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to ask them. You were overwhelmed, betrayed, hurt, and lost. A distressed noise spilled from you, unable to be stopped, and you stumbled backward. The knife was pulled from your hand by Arthur, tucking it back into his belt before wrapping an arm around you, pressing his front against your back, steadying you.

Your chest heaved, rapid breaths leaving you, the room spinning. “Sadie, get him outta here.” His voice carried the fury of a thousand men, but you knew it wasn’t directed at you. It was never at you.

Sadie didn’t have to be told twice, understanding flashing across her face. Joseph cried out when she yanked his hair up hard, pulling him to his feet. She pushed him to the doorway, his tied-together feet tripping him with each step. “Take him to the Van Buren estate,” you muttered, focusing your last bit of composure on speaking. “He’s gonna tell them everything.”

Dread washed across Joseph’s features, and he shook his head like a petulant child. “I’m not-”

“Shut it!” Sadie smacked him across the face with her gun, drawing blood, before directing her attention to you and Arthur. “Should I wait for y’all out there, or…?”

“We’ll meet ya there.” You felt his fingers squeeze your hip. I’ve got other priorities, it said. “You’ve got him alright?”

“This puny thing?” She barked out a laugh. “I’ve got him, Arthur. I’ll see ya both there, then.” With a nod, she exited the house, dragging Joseph along behind her.

You felt Arthur speak, but you couldn’t hear him, your fast breathing and pounding heart the only thing you could. Gently, you felt him turn you so that you were facing him, hands then immediately cupping the sides of your face. His lips moved, but you couldn’t understand him, and you shook your head at him. Or maybe your entire body was shaking. You couldn’t tell. 

You hadn’t realized you were crying until you felt his thumbs brush tears away. The ringing in your ears was incessant, making your head spin even more. Your shaky hands scrabbled for purchase on Arthur’s body, fingers grasping the material of his shirt with uncontained desperation to find security. 

It was when Arthur brought your head against his that you finally heard his words. “Let it out, darlin’.”

Whatever restraint you had left snapped, a terrible wail erupting from you, barely being muffled as you buried your face into his chest. Sobs wracked your body as you slid to the floor, Arthur’s arms keeping you from collapsing completely as he followed you down. 

You’re not sure how long you sat there, crying until your body couldn’t produce any more tears, lacking the energy to continue to shake your body with sobs. But you realized it wasn’t just the events of the past hour that had upset you so deeply. No, you realized you were in mourning. 

You were mourning those past two years, years that you’d never get back. Mourning years that had been taken away from you, sacrificed in your brother’s game of greed. Years that weren’t his to have, which never had been, and never would be, yet he took them anyway. 

Eventually, you managed to lift your head enough to look at Arthur, but what you saw nearly made you break again. 

He was crying too. 

[gojuo]

As a mom i find it revolting that condam and hess made helaena say « i shouln’t feel sad cuz babies die all the time » wtf it’s not about babes ditng it’s about HER babe diying so if it was a childless person sying that ok but not from a mother who just lost her babe and they are making aegon the bad guy for wanting revange 👌👌👌 chef kiss just chef kiss 🙄 i am thinking that that phrase was just written so they can brush aside the kids deaths so they can justify women againts war narrative but i stil’ jave hope in humanity and that people will see what they are doing and stop sying it’s a good show like bitch if it was my daugther that was killed and i had a dragon i would burn and kill everyone just so they pay. Helaena dosn’t even look depressed like in the books so what will the excuse be that she dosn’t go burn dragonstone on dreamfyre???

That scene really rubbed me the wrong way but I haven't quite been able to put to words exactly why and how .... But @zumurruds explained it quite well here:

I've already said something on the narrative weight of B&C, and it's quite evident to me that the writers have been trying very hard in undervalueing its importance because of what zumurruds said above. If Helaena herself gets over Jaehaerys' death in the span of one day, if Aegon does, if Aemond's reckless actions that led to the assassination are never reckoned with by any character, if all that Alicent says about him is "The child's pain is ended" (to service the writers' attempt at dehumanizing Jaehaerys to make the viewer not care about him), if Otto's PR move is framed as something nefarious instead of the typical funeral procession of a member of the royal family, if we don't even see Jaehaerys' funeral like we did Luke's, then how can the viewer be anything but desensitized to Blood and Cheese? How can the viewer do anything but exonerate Daemon and Rhaenyra of this act? Rhaenyra in the episode literally said, "I would never harm innocents like Helaena!" As if this line isn't a blatant attempt at manipulating the viewer to feel a certain way about Rhaenyra's involvement in B&C by the writers, egregiously using her as a mouthpiece to absolve her of any evil she causes and has caused. Clearly whitewashing her of this act. Daemon too, because "It was a mistake! I only named Aemond!" and then having him have hallucinations in Harrenhal of Jaehaerys. We've actually seen Rhaenyra with Jaehaerys more times than we've seen Helaena with him. Like let that sink in.... And what we get from all this is that Helaena forgives Alicent? ... So basically the narrative is implicating Alicent and Criston in Jaehaerys' murder (already did tbf when the writers changed her being in the room to her not being there), but it washes Daemon and Rhaenyra's hands completely clean.

I know there are people who are trying to rationalize that scene as Helaena dissociating in order to cope with the trauma, but when you factor in Condal openly saying that he views Blood and Cheese as it was written in F&B as propaganda uttered by Alicent, and then him removing her from the event to go have sex with Cole with that being the reason there are no guards protecting Helaena's chambers so as to implicate them both in the murder .... Is that really what we can assume Condal wanted to do with Helaena in this episode?

I hate that scene. I really fucking hate that ep.3 scene.

[campbell-rose]

Hazbin Trailer + Rewrite Spitballing

The Hazbin Trailer omg

I finally watched it and like... it's so bad guys. Honestly, the only people I pity are the animators and the pilot voice actors, and the new actors too. Blake Roman especially, the man is super talented, but trying to fill the massive shoes of Michael is weighing his performance down so bad. Honestly, if Viv wasn't a petty brat, she could've kept Michael and gotten Blake as the singing voice.

Apparently there's a war on Heaven plot? I hope to god not, like that's NOT THE PREMISE. God Viv just cannot stick to her premises, can she? This happened with Zoophobia, initially it seemed like it was going to follow Cameron but slowly lost focus on her. Then Helluva Boss losing the hired assassin plot for the sake of shitty Stolitz drama. Seems redeeming sinners is going to be a side plot which is unfortunate because that was one of the biggest things i wanted from this show. I remember when i used to love Vivziepop and i got so excited for the pilot of Hazbin. Redeeming sinneers, that sounded so cool. It's what got me into demonology and was a big part of my life. Sad to see this happen.

I genuinely hate the stupid trope of heaven, the place that is literally paradise for good people, being bad. Like, i cannot feasibly imagine a universe in which Viv manages to write that in any compelling way. And why is it just ‘heaven bad’??? This could be an interesting story that discusses the nature of good and bad, talks about what makes someone a good person, should people be given redemption if they already blew their chance, is the definition of 'good' wrong? Like, in the hands of competent writers, Hazbin could be an interesting story, like a Walmart Good Place! But no, heaven bad, let's go kill angels that say fuck.

Like, as an example of my above point, let’s look at a familiar face from Helluva Boss, Mrs. Mayberry. 

She killed someone, tried to kill someone, then herself, and is now in hell. But a good question could be raised of if her being in hell is even justified. Yes, she killed a person (and attempted to kill another) which is not a good thing to do. But she killed her husband in a fit of rage after seeing him cheating on her – like actively, red handed, balls deep cheating on her. From what we see of her before her death, she seems like an attentive and caring teacher and wife, she even says herself she was ‘good my entire life’. Her students love her, and literally the reason she kills herself seems to be because she realizes that they saw her literally murder someone. She did choke and throw a child, but that was played for comedy so I'm not counting that against her. She kills herself because she’s so shocked about what she’s done. She’s bitter because she’s in hell.  

Her husband was a cheater and the woman she tried to kill was a murderer and a cannibal, so by that logic, doesn’t her killing a bad person negate the killing? Yes, murder is bad, she should’ve controlled herself, but this was one terrible moment in a lifetime of being good. Like, say someone kills a pedobear, is the person commiting the murder a bad person for killing someone who deserved it? Not that her husband deserved to die for cheating, a good beat down maybe. If a good person kills a bad person, does that make them a bad person too? Or does it come down to intention? Did the good only kill the bad for a selfish reason?

That’s an interesting conundrum (in my opinion). Does she deserve to redeem herself? How would she redeem herself? If I keep thinking on it, i'll ramble, but that's my thinking. Anyway, this made me think about a rewrite that follows this line of thinking.

I’ve come to the conclusion that Charlie being an angel and Vaggie being her Exterminator guard who goes with her to hell to redeem sinners is the best way to make this mess an interesting thing. Like, Charlie is an optimistic angel who thinks the extermination of sinners is inhumane and that the standards of Heaven need changed. Vaggie is literally trained to kill sinners and sees Charlie’s efforts as futile but is assigned to help her anyway. Makes sense why everyone would disrespect Charlie and treat her like an idiot for wanting to redeem sinners, instead of insulting the daughter of FUCKING LUCIFER HIMSELF, they’re laughing at an angel who came down out of nowhere and is acting high and mighty.

Also, Charlie can keep the name Charlie Magne instead of Morningstar because she's no longer Lucifer's daughter. Vaggie is just V. boom, problem solved, i'm a genius.

Have a doodle

[ririabeam]

✰ " I'm the Gorgeous Girl Genius, Miu Iruma! " ✰

Explanation of drawing below! And what the binary code translates to~ ;)

A drawing about Miu's confidence VS fear/anxiety! I wanted to draw something deep for my best girl as that is often overlooked for her (I love her funny side, but her fear e.g. is what made me like her even more!)

In the confidence side, she has her inventions (camera, electrohammer, electrobomb and eye drop contacts) Her beauty and inventions(and genius-ness) are the things that makes her confident~ And she points a middle finger in full confidence X'D When she is confident, her hair is free and she feels she can do anything she wants

In the fear side, her hair is tied, and the toilet paper forms a cage for her. This symbolises how fear can make someone feel trapped. Fear side is blue and digital-ish to express sadness and the Neo World Program (It also looks kinda like drowning in the sea which is what fear can make us feel---suffocated)

What the binary code translates to!

I want it to be about Miu's inner fears which is hard to tell when you're looking at the surface. Like inner fears and struggles we face inside, people around us can't see it… it's hard to understand like binary code, which not everyone understands. …But it is a language Miu understands, so she's struggling alone, listening to all her fears.

The error messages are words she said to Kokichi before she attempted to kill him. It's like a more indirect way of saying her fears, while the binary code one is more direct and hidden.

Her fear of being betrayed and killed is what led her to attempt murder, so I think she's trying to say that she is scared and she wants to be helped/saved. (But she doesn't think anyone would save her so she convinces herself that she needed to kill to be saved)

I think Miu also has fear of abandonment and struggles with her self worth too so that's why I wrote "Please don't abandon me" and "What if I'm not gorgeous or genius?"

The repeat of "Gorgeous Girl Genius" is to symbolise how people see things when they only see the surface--- a simplified overall version.