#please someone have mercy of my poor soul | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

edenesth · 5 months ago

Text

TWTHH Spinoff: Until I Found You [1]

Pairing: prince!Yeosang x princess!reader

AU: historical au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 6.8k

Summary: It had been a while since Lady Park's firm rejection, and the fourth prince was beginning to believe he would never get over her. Though the heartbreak had made him more mature, one thing remained unchanged: his stubborn reluctance to marry. Convinced he would never find someone who could understand his pain as deeply as the general's wife, he was unprepared for the surprise life had in store for him—one that came in the form of a foreign princess.

A/N: As stated in the title, this is a spinoff. If you have yet to check out the main story, it's probably better to read that before starting this.

Main Story | Spinoff Masterlist | Part 2

"A peace treaty with Joseon? What do you think Father is going to offer them?" you wondered aloud, staring at your reflection in the ornate gold mirror as your mother gently combed your hair.

She sighed, her face filled with dread. "What else do you think, my dear? Another daughter, obviously. Lord have mercy on whichever poor soul has to be sacrificed."

Your fists clenched involuntarily, clutching the fabric of your robes at the thought. You couldn't imagine the horror: what if it was you? To be torn from your family, everyone you loved, everything you knew, and sent off to a foreign land to marry a complete stranger and live the rest of your life in isolation. "Mother, this is cruelty."

"This is reality, sweetheart."

You winced at her words. She was right, and you hated it. The mere thought of being separated from your mother, Royal Concubine Sarisu of Ruhon, was beyond unbearable. You were all she had, and she was everything to you.

Reaching for her hands, you squeezed them and smiled sadly up at her. Once, she had been the most favoured concubine, steadily climbing the ranks, poised to take the spot beside the then-empty throne. But then the current Her Majesty arrived. With her strong family ties and influential background, she immediately stole away all your mother's chances of ever becoming Queen.

But that wasn't all she stole.

She took everything, including all your father's affections, leaving him with no room for your mother or you. Since then, the two of you had been reduced to mere decorations in the grand palace of Ruhon, often labelled the rejects of His Majesty. You were invisible to him, merely waiting for the end of your days to come.

Neither of you were fools; you knew what people said about you both. But it didn't matter. You were grateful not to be starving on the streets and to still have a roof over your heads, even if it was nowhere near as luxurious as the Queen and her children's chambers. No matter how much favour your mother had lost, at least the King was still kind enough to let you both keep your titles and everything else.

Or was he really?

Perhaps you shouldn't have spoken about it. Now, you had jinxed it. You should have known, should have realised why he had kept you around. You had your own uses and were finally coming in handy now. The realisation struck when a eunuch rushed into your chambers, which was an unusual occurrence, bowing lightly—nothing like the deep bows usually reserved for other royals.

"Princess Sarisu, you have been summoned by His Majesty the King and are expected in the throne room this instant," he announced, gesturing towards the exit. "Please allow me to escort you there."

He let out a small, impatient huff when you remained frozen in your spot, exchanging horrified looks with your mother. "Come now, Your Highness. We mustn't upset His Majesty any further."

She cleared her throat, nodding encouragingly despite her trembling hands. "Go on, my dear. I'm sure it's nothing, hm? Maybe your father simply wishes to catch up." Not wanting her to worry, you forced a smile. "Yes, Mother. You're probably right."

You weren't sure who you were trying to convince with those foolish white lies, but a part of you clung to the hope that was all it was. With that, you followed the eunuch towards the throne room.

The palace corridors seemed colder, the shadows darker, as you walked. Each step echoed ominously, amplifying the anxiety churning in your stomach. You could feel the eyes of courtiers and servants on you, their whispers adding to the tension.

Finally, you reached the grand doors of the throne room. They loomed before you, heavy and imposing. The eunuch pushed them open, revealing the vast chamber within. At the far end, on the elevated throne, sat your father, the King. His expression was stern, his gaze piercing as it settled on you.

"Approach," he commanded, his voice resonating through the hall.

You walked forward, your heart pounding in your chest. As you neared the throne, you dropped to your knees, bowing deeply. "This princess greets Your Majesty," you greeted, your voice trembling despite your efforts to remain composed.

Your father studied you for a moment before speaking, "I hope you have been well, princess. I will not bother beating around the bush; you are at the perfect age for marriage, and it is time you fulfil your duty. The peace treaty with Joseon has been finalised. It has been decided that you are to be sent as part of the agreement. We leave in a week to celebrate your future union with Ninth Prince Yeochan."

The words struck you like a blow. Your worst fears had come true. You were to be sacrificed for the sake of the kingdom, sent away to a foreign land to marry a stranger. Your mind raced, struggling to process the reality of your fate.

Oh god, it's really happening... to me.

"Father, please..." you began, but he raised a hand, silencing you.

"Look at me, princess. This is not a question, it's an order," he commanded, his gaze steely and unyielding despite your tear-filled eyes. You were bewildered; you were merely the daughter of a concubine. It was usually only princesses born from the Queen who had to marry for the nation's sake.

"But Father—" you fell to your knees, prepared to beg for mercy.

He snarled, "No buts! Your sisters are too young for this. Her Majesty and I have deliberated long and hard. You're the only one fit for the task. You'll do well to make your mother proud. I know you're upset about leaving her behind, but you're a princess, and you know what that means. Your sacrifice will save Ruhon…"

Yes, from your reckless decisions.

If only he hadn't rashly launched a sudden attack on Joseon, none of this would have happened. Peace would have prevailed, and you wouldn't have to be offered as a pawn in the war he instigated. You weren't stupid; he was giving you up because this was a deal with the enemy. The Queen's daughters were too precious to be sent away.

"Oh, come now, my daughter. Just be grateful you aren't marrying the dreadful fourth prince of Joseon. I'm sure their ruler still has some conscience. You'll be fine."

Easy for you to say, Father...

One week. That was all the time you were given to come to terms with your fate—to be the chosen pawn sent to Joseon, to spend these final days with your mother before departing forever. Reality wasn't cruel; your father was. You had never harboured such profound hatred for him as you did now. Oh, your poor mother. How would she endure the emptiness of the palace alone? Your heart ached with the mere thought of her grieving in the cold confines of your shared chambers, her life overshadowed by your absence.

Though you faced a grim future, perhaps far worse than hers, all you could think about was the one person who meant everything to you—the one who had brought you into this world, nurtured you, protected you, and showered you with endless love. And now, you were leaving her behind forever.

The days blurred together in a haze of sorrow and apprehension. You clung to your mother, finding solace in shared memories and whispered reassurances. The palace, once your sanctuary, now felt like a gaol, each room a reminder of the departure that loomed ahead.

On the final night, she held you tightly, her voice trembling with unshed tears. "You are strong, my dear. Remember that. No matter what happens, hold on to who you are. Go and make us all proud."

You nodded, tears mingling with hers. "I will, Mother. I promise. Don't worry about me and take good care of yourself."

The next morning arrived far too soon. As you prepared to leave, you took a last, lingering look around your chamber, memorising every detail. Then, with a heavy heart, you followed the royal guard sent to escort you. Walking through the palace corridors for the final time, the weight of your destiny pressed heavily upon you.

At last, you reached the courtyard where the grand carriage awaited. Your father stood beside it, his face a mask of indifference. He offered no words as you approached, only a curt nod. "Come, let us go."

With one final, sorrowful glance at your mother, you climbed into the carriage. As it began to move, you watched her silhouette grow smaller and smaller until she was nothing more than a distant memory.

Thus, you set off towards an uncertain future, your heart heavy with grief and dread, knowing you were leaving behind everything you had ever known and loved.

Goodbye, Ruhon... goodbye, Mother.

"Your Highness, how should we announce you at the banquet?" the King of Joseon asked, smiling warmly down at you.

Your father straightened up proudly beside you, about to answer on your behalf, but you quickly bowed. "Please announce me as Princess Sarisu, Your Majesty, as I have always been known in Ruhon."

The Joseon ruler's eyes widened slightly at the realisation. "Ah, so this is the famous Royal Concubine Sarisu's only daughter. That explains your exceptional beauty. And here, we assumed a princess from Her Majesty of Ruhon would be offered to us." It was a subtle jab at your father, who had thought he could deceive the court by presenting you as a Crown Princess.

Your father's smile was steely, masking the fury that boiled inside him. He trembled with anger at your betrayal—exposing your true identity by using your mother's name, despite his stern reminder that you were to pose as one of the Queen's daughters.

Call it your little revenge if you will.

"No matter, Father. I consider myself fortunate to be matched with such a beauty. After all, I, too, am a son of a concubine. We are quite the match," said Prince Yeochan, your betrothed, as he bowed respectfully to his father and yours. His words might charm most, but you doubted their sincerity. Living in a palace, you had seen your share of false pleasantries and performative kindness.

The King of Joseon nodded approvingly. "As you should be, Ninth Prince. I expect you to treat your future wife well. Now let us adults discuss the wedding plans. You may show your fiancée to her temporary quarters."

"Yes, Father," the young prince responded, then approached you, offering his arm. "Come, my princess."

Despite the grandeur of your reception, it was clear that the welcome was more for show than genuine warmth. This became evident when you arrived at your assigned quarters, a small and secluded part of the palace, far from the bustling main areas where the rest of the royal family and court members congregated.

"Thank you, Your Highness, for showing me here," you said politely.

At that moment, the facade of the dutiful son vanished. Yeochan smirked humourlessly. "Save it. It doesn't matter if you're the daughter of a concubine or the Queen; you're still Ruhon scum to me. Don't think that just because you're here showing me your faux politeness, you can fool me. I don't trust you, princess," he spat.

You sighed, your shoulders slumping. There it was, his true nature revealed. Not that you hadn't anticipated this. Given the history between your nations, it was inevitable. You were the princess from the country that had dared to attack his own, a symbol of betrayal and defeat, delivered to their doorstep after your father's cowardly surrender. You could have argued, defended yourself, but it was clear there was no point. His hatred was deep-rooted and unwavering.

The ninth prince huffed at your silence. "I'll make this clear: you will do well to cooperate and play the perfect couple with me in public. But do not expect anything when we're alone. You are nothing more than a political pawn in this game. Remember that."

You met his gaze, your own eyes steady and resolute. "I understand, Your Highness. I will fulfil my duty as expected."

He sneered, turning on his heel and leaving you alone in your sparse quarters. As the door closed behind him, the reality of your situation settled over you like a heavy shroud. The grandeur of the palace felt hollow, a gilded cage in which you were now imprisoned.

Tears threatened to spill, but you blinked them back, refusing to succumb to despair. You had to be strong, for your mother, for yourself. No matter how cold and unwelcoming this place was, you would endure. You had no other choice.

I'll be fine, Mother... I'll live.

The rest of the day had been spent wandering aimlessly within your quarters. The thought of dining with your father was unbearable; after the stunt you had pulled earlier, you dreaded to think what he might say or do. So, you remained secluded in your room, staring at the miserable meal the palace maids had brought you.

Their reluctance to serve you had been apparent. A few bolder ones had whispered about you not so discreetly, their words cutting through the fragile composure you were trying to maintain. Feeling the tension and disdain in the air, you had dismissed them, preferring solitude over their barely concealed contempt.

Staring at the plain bowl of rice and a few meagre side dishes, your appetite vanished. You knew enough about Joseon to recognise that this meal was far from a luxury. It was a clear message: you were not welcome here, not valued, not respected.

Heaving a deep sigh, you thought of your poor mother. How was she coping with your absence? Was she as lonely and lost as you felt in this foreign place? The ache of missing her was a constant, gnawing pain, a reminder of everything you had been forced to leave behind.

As night fell, the shadows in your room grew longer, mirroring the gloom that settled over your heart. The palace, with all its splendour, felt like a prison. The heavy silence pressed down on you, amplifying the sense of isolation. You were a stranger in an enemy land, alone and uncertain of the future.

But you knew you had to endure.

For your mother, for your people, and most importantly, for yourself. No matter how bleak the present seemed, you clung to a glimmer of hope. Perhaps, in time, you would find a way to navigate this treacherous path and carve out a place for yourself in this unforgiving world. Until then, all you could do was survive, one day at a time.

You had gone to bed with a heavy heart, fully aware that this was now your reality, and nothing could change it. A part of you was determined to make the best of your situation despite the hostility you faced. Perhaps it was the adrenaline and emotional exhaustion from the day that allowed you to fall asleep without much trouble on your first night in this foreign land.

The following morning, you were awakened by the same group of maids assigned to you. They were there to bathe and dress you, and knowing you had no choice but to comply, you obediently allowed them to do as they pleased. You endured every harsh tug and rough handling without a single complaint as they prepared you for the day.

"Thank you, you may go," you said, dismissing the group of maids as soon as they had finished their task. Sitting in front of the mirror, you took in your new appearance. It was a sobering reminder that you were about to be a princess of Joseon. The foreign hanbok and hairdo, though simpler and less dramatic than Ruhon's style, were beautiful in their own right.

You reached a hand behind to stroke the single gold hairpin tucked into the neat low bun on your head, then moved down to touch the smooth lavender fabric now adorning your body. "Hmm, not bad at all," you murmured to yourself.

Despite the simplicity, there was a quiet elegance to the attire. The colours were soft and soothing, a stark contrast to the vibrant and intricate garments you were accustomed to. You could see yourself getting used to these outfits. This was your new reality, and you were determined to find beauty and strength in it, no matter how challenging the circumstances.

With a deep breath, you rose from your seat and steeled yourself for the day ahead. You knew it wouldn't be easy, but you resolved to face whatever came your way with grace and resilience. Knowing that no one, especially not your fiancé, would show you around the palace grounds, you resolved to explore the place on your own. With the banquet scheduled for the next night, you had this day to yourself. What better way to spend it than embarking on a little adventure?

Finally free from the pressure and the sensation of walking on eggshells, you wandered the palace grounds with awe. The buildings and their architecture were new and different, capturing your attention at every turn. You nodded politely at any passing palace staff who, despite their reluctance or displeasure, still greeted you with courtesy. Your attire signified your status, and rules were rules; they couldn't possibly ignore you in broad daylight.

Amid your exploration, you stumbled upon what seemed to be a tranquil cherry blossom garden. Though the flowers were not in bloom, you could imagine how breathtaking this place would be in the right season. You made a mental note to return when the cherry blossoms were in full glory.

Deciding to take a walk inside, you were unprepared for the sight that greeted you. In one of the many pavilions, diligently practising calligraphy, was a figure that resembled a celestial being. The scene was almost ethereal: the serene garden, the elegant strokes of the brush, the calm concentration on the person's face.

Could he be a scholar...?

Your breath caught in your throat. The figure was dressed in simple yet refined garments. The rhythmic movements of the brush were mesmerising, each stroke deliberate and graceful. You couldn't help but feel as though you were intruding upon a sacred moment. But you couldn't turn away as you moved closer, recognising the poem being written.

"Is that Hwaseoljedeungnubu by Shin Sukju?" you asked softly.

At your question, the person's head whipped up. It took him a moment to respond, but he did eventually. "Yes, it is."

You nodded in approval, a small smile on your lips, pleased that he had yet to frown or react negatively as most people had so far. "Nice penmanship, by the way."

He cleared his throat, slightly flustered. "Thank you."

To say that Yeosang was surprised would be the understatement of the century. Only the most highly educated individuals could recognise this series of poems exchanged between Joseon officials and Ming Dynasty envoys. He wouldn't have been surprised if even most low-ranking officials were not well-versed in this.

First of all, you were a woman, and most women, despite being educated, did not study these texts. Secondly, you were clearly not local; your accent gave that away. Were you perhaps a visiting guest here for the banquet celebrating the union with Ruhon?

But above all else, did you... not know who he was? Even if you didn't, most people turned away as soon as they spotted the dreadful red mark beside his left eye, which was not hard to miss.

When you bit your lip earnestly and stepped into the pavilion, asking, "Do you mind if I join you?" The fourth prince furrowed his brows and placed down his brush, lifting his head to look at you properly, giving you a clear view of his birthmark.

"Are you certain, my lady? Why would you want to sit with me?"

You blinked, confused by the question. "I-I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I don't understand—"

He sighed, pointing at the mark on his face. "Do you not see this?"

You nodded slowly, still lost. "Yes, and?"

His brows flew up at your nonchalant response, and he took a deep gulp. "What—are you not disgusted?"

You frowned. "That's a strong word, but... am I supposed to be? By what exactly?"

He finally gave in, taking a moment to process the fact that standing before him was someone who did not see anything wrong with him—the second person to do so after Lady Park. He motioned to the seat opposite him. "Please, have a seat."

You smiled gratefully and settled across from him. He waited for you to be seated before beginning his introduction. "I apologise for my unusual questions. I… I'm Yeosang, the Fourth Prince of Joseon."

He held his breath as your eyes widened in realisation, bracing himself for the rejection he was so accustomed to. But it didn't come. Instead, your lips formed a small pout as you observed him. "So, you're the famous Fourth Prince Yeosang… I don't get it."

He chuckled in bewilderment. "What don't you get, my lady?"

"Why do they call you dreadful? I've only been here for a day and a half, met a handful of people, and you're the first and only one to treat me with equal respect. Besides, you're… very attractive. I don't understand why they'd call you—" Your eyes landed on the birthmark. "Ah, so that's why…"

He nodded solemnly, trying not to show how much it affected him. "Yes, all because of this one stupid mark."

You pursed your lips. "Well, if it's worth anything, I think you're beautiful. People can be cruel for no reason. Trust me, I know."

For the first time in forever, the fourth prince broke into a genuine grin. "Thank you, I… I think you're beautiful too."

You grew shy at that, and wanting to break the ice, Yeosang picked up his brush, handing it to you. "Now, you must tell me how you know about Shin Sukju and his poems. Also, which is your favourite?"

For the remainder of the afternoon, he refrained from asking about your identity, and you were grateful for it. You feared he might distance himself if he learned of your betrothal to his brother, and the thought unsettled you. After all, finding a genuine friend was rare and precious, and you wished to cherish this fleeting moment of sincerity. You knew that by the next day, at the banquet, everyone, including Yeosang, would eventually discover who you truly were.

But you pushed that worry from your mind.

Just for now...

Your time together was cut short when the prince had classes to attend and could no longer stay. As he packed up his things and prepared to leave the pavilion, he turned to you. "Will you be at the banquet tomorrow?"

You swallowed and nodded, offering a small smile. "Yes, I'll be there."

His face lit up with a beaming smile. "Great! I’ll see you there, my lady."

You rose from your seat and bowed. "See you, Your Highness."

Once Yeosang had departed, you sank back into your seat, lost in contemplation. So this was the prince your father had told you you were fortunate not to be wed to? Of course, you knew that if you had been matched with him, he might not have been as courteous as he had been today. Before arriving in Joseon, you had heard nothing but unflattering remarks about him. He was rumoured to be a rebellious brat, the least appealing prince among his brothers.

Yet, meeting him in person, you found the reality strikingly different.

Sure, the rebellious reputation might have some truth, but people can change. As for the claim of his being unappealing, you couldn't fathom how a mere birthmark could diminish his allure. In your eyes, Yeosang was extraordinarily handsome, and the mark only seemed to enhance his unique charm.

Could it be that you were developing a small crush on your soon-to-be brother-in-law? Maybe so, but who could blame you? His kindness, coupled with his striking appearance, made it nearly impossible not to feel some affection. Perhaps it was this harmless little infatuation that provided a semblance of comfort and sanity amidst the turmoil of your new life.

You allowed yourself a small, wistful smile. For now, you would hold on to this tender feeling, as it was one of the few bright spots in the otherwise daunting reality you faced.

Heh, a silly little crush wouldn't hurt.

After the royal tutor had left, the fourth prince found himself alone in the library, a satisfied smile tugging at his lips as he gazed at the parchment before him. Your handwriting, delicate yet confident, adorned the page. He was thoroughly impressed by your breadth of knowledge, especially given that you were a foreigner. You had shared with him your passion for the liberal arts and how you had delved into them in your home library. It was refreshing to meet someone so genuinely curious and non-judgmental. You were a rare find in a world often quick to judge and dismiss.

His anticipation for the banquet grew, eager to continue your intellectual exchange and perhaps learn even more from you. This fleeting joy, however, was interrupted by a familiar voice.

"You seem to be in high spirits, my prince. Could it be because of the banquet? You've heard the news, haven't you?" Royal Secretary Choi's voice interrupted his thoughts. As he looked up, his smile faltered slightly upon meeting the secretary's inquisitive gaze.

"Heard? About what?" Yeosang inquired, his brows knitting together.

"Wait… you haven't? General and Lady Park will be attending. Last time we spoke, you mentioned wanting to see her, didn't you?" San replied, his tone laced with curiosity.

The mention of Lady Park swiftly altered his mood. Thoughts of your newfound friendship evaporated, overshadowed by the grim realisation. Although he had reconciled with the fact that she would never be his, the prospect of seeing her again—now pregnant and with her husband—was a painful reminder of his loss. The thought of facing them, of witnessing their happiness, stirred a deep unease within him. Was he truly prepared for this?

"I see. Thank you for the information, Secretary Choi. I'll see you at the banquet tomorrow," Yeosang said, gathering his belongings and leaving for his chambers. He needed solitude to grapple with the revelation and to ready himself for the emotional challenge ahead.

"We'd like to extend our gratitude to all distinguished guests here today to celebrate the union between Joseon and Ruhon. May I present to you the match that will make all of this possible: our very own Ninth Prince Yeochan and the beautiful Princess Sarisu of Ruhon. Their Highnesses will be officially wed in a month. Now, let us all use this opportunity to congratulate the new couple on their impending marriage and wish them an eternity of happiness," the King of Joseon announced.

Oh. There she is.

Yeosang blinked. There you were, standing before the assembled guests. Indeed, you were present. And, of course, you were the Ruhon princess sacrificed for the peace treaty. The puzzle pieces began to fit together. That explained your knowledge and undeniable class—qualities far beyond those of any mere noblewoman. He supposed he shouldn't have been too surprised.

As if on cue, you turned and met his gaze. Your eyes widened slightly upon seeing him, your expression turning guilty. You opened your mouth, ready to mouth an apology, but before you had the chance, a tap on his shoulder quickly shifted his attention.

Likewise, your fiancé cleared his throat, sensing your distraction. He murmured in your ear, "Focus, princess. Don't you dare embarrass me." You blinked and nodded. While people on the outside might coo and assume the Ninth Prince was a loving fiancé, only you know the reality behind his facade.

"There you are, my prince!" the royal secretary called out. "The general and his wife are just over there," he informed, nodding toward the area where the couple could be seen. Seonghwa was deep in conversation with his handpicked military strategist, General Officer Song, while his wife was engaged in a chat with one of the royal physicians nearby.

Yeosang's breath hitched as soon as his eyes landed on the pregnant woman. In an instant, all thoughts of you and the revelation of your identity as the foreign princess meant to marry his brother vanished. All he could see and think about was the general's wife. It was the first time he had seen her since her wedding with General Park, and she looked… beautiful, as always. In fact, she seemed even more beautiful now, glowing with the radiance of motherhood.

Oh god, he realised he was still far from getting over her. Would he ever get over her? He didn't know, but for now, just for now, he needed to talk to her.

Taking a deep breath, he started toward her, his heart pounding with every step. As he approached, her laughter reached his ears, a sound that once brought him immense joy and now brought a bittersweet ache. It took her a moment to notice him, needing the royal physician she was speaking with to signal his presence. Her eyes widened in surprise when she turned to see him, starting to bow, but he stopped her before she could do so.

"It's been a while, my lady. Would you... care to catch up?" he asked.

She bit her lip, turning to meet her husband's warm gaze. The general nodded, indicating the decision was hers. Turning back to face the prince, she beamed. "Of course, Your Highness. Shall we talk over some snacks? Pregnancy cravings, you know," she joked, and he agreed, guiding her to the refreshments table.

"So, how have you been?" Yeosang asked, his voice laced with a mix of hope and sorrow.

"I've been well, thank you," she responded, her hand instinctively moving to rest on her belly. "And you? How have you been?"

He hesitated, searching for the right words. "I've been… managing. It's good to see you looking so well."

She smiled again, a hint of sadness in her eyes. "It's good to see you too, Your Highness. I heard you've been doing well with your studies and your duties."

The fourth prince nodded, unable to tear his gaze away from her. "Yes, I've been keeping busy." He paused, taking a deep breath. "I just wanted to say… congratulations. You look radiant."

"Thank you," she said softly, her smile genuine. "It means a lot coming from you."

He gulped, pausing briefly before meeting her eyes. "You are happy, aren't you? The general... he's treating you well, yes?" He knew that San had already assured him of this once, but he needed to hear it from her to be fully convinced, to properly let go.

The lady softened and nodded. "I am, my friend. I feel like the happiest woman on earth. I assure you, you don't have to worry about me. And yes, my husband is very good to me. I promise you, I'm telling the truth," she added with a hint of jest.

"That's good. That's all that matters to me, my lady. Promise me you'll invite me over once the baby's born," the fourth prince said, despite the light ache in his chest.

"Of course, Your Highness! You'll be the first I'll invite!" she replied, laughing warmly.

The two exchanged a few more words, their conversation unknowingly catching most people's eyes in the hall, given their well-known history. For those craving drama, it was slightly anticlimactic to see the two get along so well. While the King and Queen exchanged proud smiles, the ninth prince was less than pleased, again overshadowed by his elder brother. Even on his special day, Yeosang managed to steal the spotlight.

The fourth prince sensed all eyes on him, growing slightly self-conscious. He wasn't clueless; he hadn't been naive enough to ignore that his failed attempt to win General Park's wife had been the talk of the palace. People weren't scrutinising him merely for his birthmark and rebellious tendencies anymore, but also for his brave yet foolish pursuit of a taken woman—one who belonged to one of the most intimidating and feared individuals in all of Joseon.

Knowing it was time to make himself scarce, he took one last, long look at the lady he still held feelings for, reminding himself it was time to truly let go. She was happy, with child, about to build a family with her husband. It was wrong for him to still feel this way.

"I wish you happiness, my lady. May you have a safe delivery, and I look forward to meeting your mini you," he said, his voice tinged with genuine warmth and a lingering sorrow.

She giggled softly, nodding. "Thank you, my prince. I wish you all the happiness in the world as well."

With that, Yeosang finally bid the lady goodbye, not forgetting to shoot the general a grateful nod before making his way out of the hall. He needed somewhere quiet to organise his thoughts and emotions. As he walked away, the murmurs and whispers of the court followed him, a stark reminder of the weight of his actions and the expectations placed upon him.

Reaching a secluded garden within the palace grounds, now adorned with lanterns hanging from the trees as part of the celebration, he allowed himself to breathe deeply, the cool night air filling his lungs. The moonlight cast gentle shadows, and the lanterns emitted a soft glow, while the distant sounds of the banquet faded into the background. Alone with his thoughts, he closed his eyes, letting the reality of the situation wash over him.

He had seen her happiness, her radiant glow as an expectant mother, and it brought him a strange sense of peace. It was time to move forward, to let go of the past, and to find his own path to happiness.

Taking one last deep breath, he straightened up, a newfound resolve settling within him. It was time to face the future, whatever it might hold, with a heart unburdened by past regrets.

Time to move on, Kang Yeosang...

The night had never felt longer than it did now as you sat wearily beside your fiancé. You observed with curiosity as Prince Yeosang conversed with the beautiful Lady Park, catching the gossip from two palace maids nearby. So this was the woman who held the fourth prince's heart and was the reason for his significant change.

Love, indeed, was a strange force, altering people as soon as they were struck by its powerful emotions. You wondered if you would ever experience such feelings. But glancing to your left at your soon-to-be husband, you doubted it would ever happen. From here on, everything was merely a duty—this marriage, this commitment.

At some point, you noticed that Yeosang was no longer in sight. Ah, to leave as you please must be a luxury. Like him, you, too, would rather be anywhere but here. But with no choice, you remained seated, playing the role of the perfect fiancée to the ninth prince.

Nearing the end of the banquet, the overwhelming presence of false kindness around you became unbearable. Turning to Prince Yeochan, you forced a smile. "Your Highness, it seems the event is drawing to an end. I am feeling rather fatigued. May I please excuse myself?"

He turned to you, and you could see the effort it took for him not to roll his eyes as he too forced a grin. "Of course, love. Anything for my princess," he said, loud enough for his father to hear.

The King of Joseon nodded approvingly. "Go, my dear. The ninth prince shall attend to the remaining guests."

With a grateful bow, you departed, ignoring the searing gaze of your father on your back. You had avoided interacting with him all night; his presence made you sick to the core. If having a father meant having one like him, you would rather have none at all. You couldn't wait for him to leave, not wanting to see him any longer.

As soon as you were out of the hall, you dismissed the maids escorting you, preferring to be alone and sparing them the burden of accompanying the hated Ruhon princess. With a sigh of relief, your shoulders slumped, finally feeling a sense of freedom. You began walking aimlessly, letting your feet guide you wherever they pleased. Though you knew your way back to your quarters, you had no desire to return to that cage just yet. You needed fresh air, a moment of peace.

Your eyes sparkled in wonder when you stumbled upon a beautiful garden area illuminated by lanterns. The soft glow of the lanterns cast gentle shadows, creating a magical atmosphere. You paused, taking in the sight, feeling a sense of calm wash over you. The night air was cool and refreshing, a stark contrast to the stifling atmosphere of the banquet hall.

Wandering deeper into the garden, you savoured the solitude. The sounds of the banquet faded into the distance, replaced by the rustling of leaves and the soft chirping of crickets. The garden felt like a sanctuary, a place where you could temporarily escape the expectations placed upon you.

Your breath hitched when you finally spotted a familiar figure sitting by the cobblestone ledge, facing a small pond. Carefully, you stepped towards him, unsure. Hearing your footsteps, he turned, causing you to freeze. With a small chuckle, he gestured to the spot beside him.

"Oh, hey there. Take a seat, princess." Your heart skipped a beat at the way he addressed you, genuine and without sarcasm, unlike your fiancé. And so you did, settling down beside him cautiously.

You swallowed nervously, avoiding his gaze, and asked in a whisper, "Aren't you angry with me, Your Highness? For deceiving you?"

He raised a brow in surprise and replied, "Why would I be, princess? Technically, I never inquired about your identity, and you haven't told me any lies. There is nothing for you to feel bad over, and absolutely no reason for me to be displeased. If anything, I'm quite happy to learn that you'll be staying here. You know, it's not often I encounter someone with a mind as exceptional as mine," he added with a teasing smile, giving you a gentle nudge on the shoulder.

A laugh escaped you, and you turned to face him, your heart fluttering at the sight of his warm and pretty smile. He extended his hand towards you. "Friends?"

You hesitated only for a moment before placing your hand in his. "Friends."

As you sat side by side, a tranquil silence enveloped you both. The gentle glow of lanterns bathed the garden in a soft, ethereal light, while the quiet murmurs of the pond added a serene backdrop to the moment. The moonlight shimmered on the water, creating a magical and soothing atmosphere.

You stole a glance at him, a genuine smile gracing your lips. For the first time since your arrival, the oppressive weight of loneliness seemed to lift. His presence beside you brought a sense of calm and companionship that had been sorely missing.

Perhaps, after all, being here wasn't so bleak. The evening's initial discomfort had given way to a blossoming connection. As you shared this peaceful moment, you couldn't help but think that this might be the start of something truly significant—a genuine friendship. The idea of finding someone who truly understood and accepted you kindled a warm hope in your heart.

I think I'll be just fine here, Mother.

« Preview of Part 2 »

"Thank you, my King," the mother of the nation murmured softly, holding her husband's hand as they settled into bed.

His Majesty raised an eyebrow, glancing at her with curiosity. "For what, my wife?"

The Queen sighed, her gaze distant. "For not forcing the fourth prince into this arranged marriage. I was afraid you might do so as part of his punishment, to settle him down once and for all."

The ruler of Joseon exhaled deeply. "I won't deny it, my Queen. I did consider it. But then I remembered Lady Park's words—he has endured enough already. It's my fault he became the man he is. I have not been the father he needed, and the least I can do now is honour his wishes, even if it means he chooses not to marry."

Her Majesty nodded, her voice gentle. "I have not been the best mother either. But perhaps it is time we make amends. This decision is for the best."

"It is," the King agreed, his tone resolute.

Surprise!! Didn't think I'd update on a Wednesday but long story short, I got injured and am on medical leave today. So, I figured, why not use this time to write? HAHA

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

Tag list (1/11):

@itstheghostofmypast @huachengsbestie01 @minghaoslatina @weedforthoughtz @minkiflwr |

@cheolliehugs @the-kpop-simp @writingwieny @stayatinykatsy @skzline |

@green-agent @stayinhellevator @vampzity @tinyteezer @evidive |

@vantediary @superbbananananana @kimyeolchan @chocolate-scoups @decadentstrangernacho |

@vic0921 @marievllr-abg @sunnyhokyu @seungmin-in-thebuilding @heyitsmetonid |

@sansaurora9904 @darkestacademiamindsx12-blog @myblovedjyh @professormingisglasses @newworldwritings |

@chicken-fifi @thunderous-wolf @shythinggiver @madnpan @yandere-stories |

@anxiousskylar @frobin4ever @starssongs98 @dollce-exe @jan-l |

@lovelyred2 @haven-cove @watermelon2319 @dreamingofyeo @akimkim |

@scuzmunkie @satsuri3su @mismatchfluffysocks @borntoshineateez @st4rhwa |

@ddaeing @tropicalsstuff @bts-army380 @skteezcursed @beauty143 |

@naps-over-degree @brown88 @sis-101 @lemon-sage17 @skittyneos |

@chickenscoups

#edenesth #the way to this heart #until i found you #twthh spinoff #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #kang yeosang #ateez yeosang #historical au #joseon era #yeosang x reader #yeosang x you #ateez fic

369 notes · View notes

fiber-optic-alligator · 8 days ago

Note

ALLIGATORRRR

GIVE US PRED VIKTOR FIC

AND MY LIFE IS YOURRS

(Shnddnbdbs i’m so sorry-)

OKAY OKAY FIIIIIINE LOL

Glorious Consumption

Pairing: Arcane Herald Viktor x Reader

Summary: After being found and captured by the feared herald who is ushering in a new world, you realize you have met a terrible fate in which there is no way to avoid.

Word Count: 1393

I wrote this in one sitting because I was so into it and I really hope this is what you are asking for!!!

WARNING: THIS STORY CONTAINS SOFT, SAFE, SFW VORE. IF ANY OF THIS MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE, PLEASE DO NOT READ.

The man who looms before you is anything but a true man anymore. Twin pinpricks of sickening gold flicker and focus upon your trembling form through a twisted mask that splits the face of what was once human in two, separating the shut eyes and the tightened lips. His staff quietly clink, clink, clinks with each step he takes; slow, leisurely, like he knows you have no chance of escaping. Yet still, you scoot backwards, a whispering plea for mercy escaping you with the breathlessness of someone who doesn’t wish to meet their fate.

“Poor little one,” the herald says, voice soft and deep, everywhere and nowhere, rumbling straight through your tiny body and striking into your soul. “So lost, so alone. Did you come seeking salvation? Redemption from the flesh?”

“Please,” you say. “Please. Don’t hurt me.”

“Hurt you? Why would I hurt you?” The herald bends a knee. Despite how gradual his movements are, they still cause you to flinch. “I only wish to heal, little one. Suffering has no place in my perfect world.”

Massive fingers, dark violet and warped by magic, reach forwards. Your eyes widen and you quickly bow your head, staring down at your own curled fists. Tears drip onto the floor and your skin, heart pounding, brain screaming for you to run, run, danger, run. Yet you are frozen, unable to wrench yourself from this fatal spot. The herald has rendered you terrified beyond your capable limits of handling such extreme emotions. Such power radiates from him, Unearthly. Eldritch. Arcane.

Those fingers curl around you, cupping you in a loose hold with warmth pressing against your spine while his thumb grazes your cheek in a gesture of comfort not suiting him. Your stomach does flips when you are raised up, your face scrunching in visible discomfort.

“Shhh.” You vibrate with the timbre of his voice. “Don’t tense. You are fearing a conclusion which shouldn’t be feared at all.”

Your eyes dart around you, flickering to the beings surrounding the herald like a protective shield. Mechanical denizens of perfect abundance, gold and white with dead eyes all staring straight at you. Marks of the newborn god currently holding you are imprinted on their faces: fingerprints signifying their change into something terrifying. You don’t want that. You want to remain you. So you continue to cry, choking on your own sobs. “Don’t turn me into one of them. Please. I-I don’t want to be like them.”

The herald is silent. He moves his thumb to your chin and forces you to tilt your head up. You have no choice but to meet his gaze. There’s no emotion, no sign of anger or pity. He’s just…blank.

“Why do you fear becoming so much more than you already are?” he asks.

“I don’t want to lose who I am. I don’t want to disappear.” You begin struggling just a tad bit, clutching his thumb tight and giving him your most pleading look. “Please. Please don’t make me go away.”

Again, there’s a pause. Then he sighs. “I do not like seeing you so terrified of me. It is…saddening.” He gives you a squeeze you think is supposed to be comforting. “If you do not seek my healing, then I will not force it upon you. I fear I may end up breaking you if you are not willing.”

Relief settles upon you. You want to give him a thousand thanks for sparing you. But he cuts you off. “However…I cannot simply let you go.”

Disbelief shatters your gratefulness. “W-What?! You’re going to kill me?!”

“Did I say I was going to kill you? Worry not, little one. No harm will befall you as long as I am around.” He hums. “I…do not feel comfortable allowing you to wander unsupervised. You could be hurt. Or worse. Plus…” He brings you close, and you feel some sort of inhalation tousle your hair as he somehow breathes in your scent. “You have a tantalizing aura. I feel…I can make use of you.”

“Make use of me?” you echo weakly.

“Your energy. It will give me the necessary power I need to continue the glorious evolution.” He sees the way your face falls, and he’s quick to comfort you. “Rest assured, I will not hurt you. Nothing I do to you will end up with you wounded or dead. It may be a bit…eh, uncomfortable at first, but I think you will grow used to the feeling. I will even coach you through it.”

“Coach me? Coach me through what?”

The herald’s eyes burn. “Being drained.”

You go pale with horror when the middle of his mask slowly splits into a mouth, strings of black connecting between jutting, razor sharp teeth and saliva dripping from the roof like ugly droplets of oil. You stare into the cavern of hypnotic colors that pulse in and out like breaths, drawing you forth with whispers invading your brain, ushering you on, begging, pleading, please please come here come to us we need you we want you please. A long, serpentine tongue slithering out to lick your cheek makes you cringe back with the terrible realization of what is going to happen to you: you are about to be eaten alive.

You scream and flail. Shoving his fingers, trying to free yourself, not even caring if you drop to your death. “Stop! Stopstopstop, please! Don’t do this, I’m begging you!”

The herald ignores you. Feet first you are slipped into his mouth, tongue curling around your legs and slowly bringing you into the hot, moist maw. You grab the ends of his teeth and hold on for life, resisting the insistent tugs of the gigantic muscle. The herald sighs wearily. He brings a hand up and starts to carefully pry your fingers away. You yelp and try to latch back on quicker than he can release you, but he is smart, and quick. In a moment where both of your hands are off of his teeth, he tilts his head and slides you backwards, snapping his mouth shut. You are sealed inside, with no escape in sight.

Screaming and howling and clawing your nails into his tongue, you do everything you can to prevent what is going to happen. But you are too weak, too small, and the herald easily overpowers you. With a resounding gulp, everything is turbulent, and you are pushing past his uvula and down his throat. Psychedelic colors fill your vision, and you lose yourself, screams dying into soft whines. You feel the muscles of his esophagus squeeze you over and over, forcing you downwards, further into his body.

By the time you make it to the stomach, you are exhausted. The colors are gone and are replaced by the dull purple, near black color of his internals. Little spots resembling stars flicker as you are embraced by plush grooves that quiver with each heavy breath you take. You can practically feel the energy leaving you as you stare up at the belly’s faux ceiling. Fear grips you. Tears leak from your eyes.

The herald presses a hand over his middle, feeling you out. When he finds you, he begins rubbing you tenderly. “I can feel you in there. So wonderfully snug. So delicious.” You think you can hear a smile in his voice. “Thank you, little one, for nourishing me. This energy will not go wasted.”

“…I…don’t want to…die…” is all you whisper in reply.

The herald goes silent. His stomach gurgles sadly and moves in, giving you a tight hug. “Hush,” he soothes. “You will not die. In due time, I will release you. Though this won’t be the last time I’ll be swallowing you, I will keep you safe. I will keep you warm. I think you’ll come to love it in there. So don’t be afraid…please.”

You want to submit. You’re tired. So, so tired. His voice is lulling you, and you think you can hear his stomach talking, quietly cooing to you, telling you to sleep. You want to fight for your freedom…you really do…

“Don’t fight,” the herald. “There’s no point. Just let this happen. You are okay. I’ll hold you. I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”

Your consciousness slips from your grasp, and you are lost in his consumption. With his presence all encompassing, you pass out.

#gator writes #viktor arcane #viktor x reader #pred!viktor #arcane vore #arcane #soft vore #safe vore #sfw vore #Giant tiny #sorry about this one guys #I love Viktor

129 notes · View notes

schoenpepper · 3 months ago

Text

Mwah!

Intro: Your way of love is spontaneous and loud, and your boyfriend is probably dying (affectionate).

Warnings: bad grammar, awful writing, not proofread

A/N: Sup. This is a request. K bye.

edit: totally forgot to tag mb i thought this was anonymous haha @fsh1

Masterlist

“What’s this?”

You glance at the large circular item in your hands. Sure the cake is a bit burnt, and the strawberries were a little more geometric than the hearts you had tried to shape them to be, but it’s not unrecognizable, is it? “It’s a strawberry shortcake,” you answer with a smile, “you like these, right? I made it myself.”

Riddle hesitantly accepts, but not without another question. “What is it for?”

“What do you mean?”

“What’s the occasion?”

You laugh and move closer to him, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. He’s bright red, clearly flustered, and he shyly looks away as he raises the plate up to cover his face. “Riddle,” you whisper softly, “I don’t need an occasion to show my love for you.”

The housewarden of Heartslabyul cannot deal with random acts of love very well.

Especially if you do it in public.

He’ll reprimand you with a blush and claim something or the other is against the rules.

And as such, the best way to deal with him is to do all those things in the confines of his or your room. Somewhere away from the eyes of the public.

Unfortunately for him, that doesn’t exactly fall under “spontaneity”, does it?

Well, if you insist…

He’s a bit too whipped, for lack of a better word, to actually stop you.

Your hands cup his cheeks so lovingly while you’re seated on his lap, peppering his face with butterfly kisses. Try as he might, Azul can’t find it in himself to push you away. He’s almost shaking in embarrassment with the way you’re acting…

And because the two of you aren’t alone.

From another corner of his office, the twins are snickering and whispering among themselves, whereas his “client” is nervously averting his gaze from your scandalous behavior in between the eels. Azul puts his hands on your shoulders and asks with a trembling smile, “My dear, we’re quite busy here. Is there anything you require of me?”

You grin and shake your head, “Nope! I just missed you, that’s all.”

Your words are punctuated with another kiss to his lips.

Have you ever seen someone so embarrassed and shy that they physically collapse?

Dear, you will soon if you don’t stop barging into his meetings and flirting with him as if there was nobody else there.

Please have mercy on this poor soul.

His right hand man has gathered enough blackmail to last a lifetime.

(Jade wants you to continue, please, don’t stop on his account or his camera’s)

Azul isn’t very used to such flashy, random displays of affection.

But if it’s you…he supposes he can try to adapt. He’d rather not change you or your wondrous nature.

“Hold still, darling.”

You can’t follow Vil’s words—you follow the rush of adrenaline that zips through your veins and you move to kiss him, smearing the lipstick he’d just applied to your freshly moisturized lips. Your boyfriend looks at you exasperatedly while his vice housewarden (whom you did not know was in the room with you) is clapping and spouting nonsense.

“And which part of hold still did you not understand?” Vil raises an eyebrow.

“All of it,” you reply cheekily while wrapping your arms around him, “I feel like kissing you lots today. Is that bad?”

He huffs and rolls his eyes, but the slightest hint of a smile creeps up on his lips.

You’ll have to be a little more restrained, paparazzi’s always breathing down his neck and he can’t have the two of you be some after-dinner talk for others.

But in more private locations where he’s absolutely sure you’re alone, he’ll indulge you readily.

You can’t exactly control your PDA though, so Vil gets himself accustomed to magical disguises for outings.

Something about his favorite shade of lipstick makes you want to smudge it with a kiss.

It’s smudge proof, but keep trying.

Vil rarely gets flustered, but catch him when he’s super off guard and you can do it.

#disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twisted wonderland #gender neutral reader #x reader #twst x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle rosehearts #riddle x reader #azul x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul ashengrotto #vil schoenheit x reader #vil x reader #vil schoenheit

346 notes · View notes

minminbunny · 5 months ago

Text

Enemies to Lovers AU - Villain! Bang Chan/Hero Fem! Reader

💕Drabble Masterlist

❤️Ultimate Masterlist

"Bombing the lake? Again?" You huffed, crossing your arms. Chan chuckled, "Don't you love it, princess. It's a love bomb," he said gesturing to the paper heart floating on the water's surface. "CB97," you said, clenching your jaw. Chan raised his arms in surrender, "Full government name, princess. I'm hurt," he said, smirking down at you. "The water is polluted now and the poor aqua cleaners have to clean up after you," you ranted, running your fingers through your hair in annoyance. Chan's gaze softened, "Princess the paper is biodegradable. It'll dissolve, scouts honor," he said, raising three fingers in honor. You stifled a laugh, "Still, you can't be a city nuisance, CB. If I don't take you down, someone will," you warned, not wanting him to get hurt. Chan chuckled, getting on his hoverbike, "Dying in the arms that aren't yours, princess? Never," he said, riding off.

"Time to figure out who's under that stupid mask," you said, looking around to check if anyone was there before ripping it off. Chan chuckled, wearing another mask beneath, "Surprise?" he said, loving the annoyance on your face. You rolled your eyes and pulled off the mask. Your breath hitched, "Chris?" You whispered, cupping his face. Chan groaned the wound in his abdomen stung, "The one and only," he said, lips etched with a stupid grin. You furrowed your eyebrows, "I could've killed you," you said, tracing the gash on his cheek. Chan nuzzled your palm, "Death by your hands is the best way to go," he said, staring up at you. "Idiot," you grumbled, kissing his lips. Chan chuckled, taking the lead as he licked your bottom lip. You parted your lips, deepening the kiss under the moonlight.

NSFW BELOW CUT

"You thought I would just accept you being CB97 without repercussions?" You asked, pinning his wrists to the bed. Chan's eyes widened, "Baby, Princess, Angel. Please have mercy on my poor soul," he pleaded, his heart racing with fear and anticipation. You chuckled and unbuckled his belt, "Mercy? What's that?" you purred, tying his wrists with the belt. Chan gulped, "Princess a man can only cum so many times before there's nothing left," he said, flexing his wrist beneath the bounds. You aligned your fluttering cunt with his cockhead, "Let's see what's your max then, yeah?" you said, mimicking his accent. Chan tossed his head back as you sank down his throbbing shaft, "Fuck, hah," he gasped, bucking his hips upwards.

"Mmh, hah. So hot so big," you purred, riding his cock at a controlled pace. Chan clenched his jaw, veins protruding on his neck, "Ride Daddy faster, princess. I know how much you missed me," he groaned, pissed at your teasing strokes. You giggled, grinding your hips when his cockhead kissed against your cervix, "But Daddy, this already feels good," you said, your voice breathy and warm. Chan huffed, easily flipping you on your back, "You know better than to tease me, little girl," he growled, breaking the belt. You wrapped your arms around his neck, "Make me regret it, Chris. To. Pher," you whispered, nipping his ear. Chan chuckled, hooking his arms under your knees, "Just you wait," he gruffed, sinking his cock deep within your aching hot pussy.

232 notes · View notes

cutieeva · 6 months ago

Text

Love of blessing or curse in hatred ?

Female reader

Warnings : Infidelity. Murders. Poison. Mental abuse. Blackmail. Power abuse. Rape.

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒

Finding love in arrange marriage is the same as searching gold inside a ocean. It's a waste of time and can slowly drown the one who has hoped thus, Edward never thought to find love with his arranged wife (Y/N) and found a pretty lady himself who will love him in riches and poor and bear his child but what went wrong to be poisoned by the same pretty woman he loves ? But fortunately god was in his side because he was back to the past and this time he will choose the right bride only.

Yells, screams, insults, hateful eyes, sneers, complain and more. There isn't any left for (Y/N) (L/N) to hear from her husband, Edward Wright. The recent crowned King.

Sadly, from the moment her hand were offered to the man after she walked down the aisle from her father, her doom begun so does his hatred directed towards her. To Edward, she wasn't anything than a measly pest stood between his love of the life and him and all he couldn't await was to erase her existence from the world to live a happy life. She was not at all like his lover, Isabella Relish. Not the gentle soul of her, not the sunrise smiles, not the comforting glance and shy courtesy of her. She was all he could elaborate into a empty shell of an person. The moment their marriage was spread to the world, not once his dearest wife tried to come to him, pleased him, talk to him rather her (E/C) eyes stare back at him after the bow, remained to address him with formalities, never came to his way, always seems to be stuck with his parents— the earlier rulers of the kingdom deserting and not questioning his thoughts or wants. "She is selfish". Was his first realization following was "She is cruel" watching the way at the slightest mistake of a servant lead them of a harsh punishment like fifty whiplashes on their bare backs or if lucky, he hates to recall ice bucket fill wash over them for an hour before standing them two hours bare feet under the blazing sun. Not only wasn't she is a wicked person, her ways of rules as an empress scares him of how less mercy with iron fist she gazes at the kingdom's people.

Edward could find the lingering fragment of behaviors on his chosen bride of his cruel parents that he refuse to love someone as the likes of her unawarely leading his eyes laid over the gentle heart of people, Isabella. Swore on Eros, the god of love. He fell and hard for her. She was the embodiment of what a human should be, she was the light of his dark world and the reasons behinds his smiles thus, he openly propose his love for her and from the tail of his eyes he could watch (Y/N) stood baring an unreadable expression watching the sight unfold.

Unfortunate to him, the gods were not by his side as his cheek burned from the slap his father gifted, strictly announced his wife shall and only be (Y/N) from (L/N) family leaving no room for a say. Yet he promised his heart to the woman belonged to a viscount daughter unlike his fiance, the daughter of the royal duke.

After the marriage closed with kiss and applause with empty room Edward didn't grace his presence into their wedding night rather he shared love with his lover at the very same night imaged her as his wife which few days later crowed by the throne, he made his Isabella his royal concubine deafening the protest of his royal advisors and pleds from the former rulers.

"She isn't good for you, my son".

"She doesn't love you".

"The woman loves her previous betrothed !"

"Your majesty, as empress of this kingdom. A king having a mistress just at the day of your crowned moment isn't well liked by people". Excuses and the last sentences of his wife fuled his want to plant a seed inside Isabella more just so he could at least see the little crack of her impassive facade turn into green with envy.

And the day he confessed patiently to his Isabelle about their shared offspring be the future of the kingdom ruling his throne. She smiled handing him a special wine she made solely for him. The king smiled, drank into the happiness of his future and the sweet taste turning into suffocation, his eyes wide as blood fill his mouth bled out of his lips. Unwelcomed chokes came out of his throat as he fell down helplessly under the woman he thought would be his destiny unlike his wife (Y/N).

"W-why ?" His palm wrap over his throat to put end to his own blood, tasting bitter.

"WHY ? You useless name of the king" The voice he usually never heard being raise than a whisper was filled with unknown anger and hatred he never knew existed. "You were well aware of my prior engagement to another, to whom my heart belonged. Yet, you misconstrued my courteous demeanor towards you as declarations of affection. And despite your own betrothal, you presumptuously demanded my hand in marriage !" Her pain roar was louder than he ever had directed over him, never aside from the one moment of his father slapping him, did anyone dare to even point their fingers at him let alone raise their voice. It astonished him more so angered him of how much the person he loved betrayed him and poisoned him for revenge.

"Because of you, I lost everything, my dignity, my family, my betrothed, my freedom, my life, companions and—". Her voices let the tears slide and her knees fell on the ground beside his fallen body. "Myself". Her eyes flicker with vicious. "Thus, die ! And rot in hell". Soon the agony of betrayed was covered by darkness and before his eyes close. Distant shouting and coldness touch his lips. Exhausted his eye lids widen a little by the presence of his wife, (Y/N) who he ought to despise and preyed to be dead.

"Here drink this". Cold water were slide into his mouth turning the bitter into sweet. "My Majesty, everything shall be right". His closed vision saw her first ever gentle smile and warmth blend with regrets came upon his heart of how fool he was to be blinded by a witch and not love his treasure wife. Before the strings of apologizes were spoke darkness covet him sending him into the eternal slumper.

"Prince Wright ?"

"Your highness ?"

"Your highness ? Please wake up !" Edward grasp and awaken. Sweats dripping from his forehead and heart pumping to send blood and mind races with the pain and betrayal he felt.

"Your highness ? You look quite pale ? Do you be pleased to rest upon some minutes ?" He whip his head towards the man wore glasses, black hair gathered in a rubber and black mix white suit wore, holding an open book and pen. "Your highness ?"

"Instructor Auclair, how on earth are you here ?" Thousand questions and emotions mingling together sending hazy memories and his sight follows how he is inside his former study room present with his former instructor Auclair, a famous French scholar.

"Your Highness, pray forgive my confusion, but I fail to comprehend your meaning. As I recall, we have spent the past several hours engaged in intense study, until you succumbed to slumber in the midst of our tutorial". His frown deepen seeing a name written over his book. The chapter of holy water : The miracle of second lesson. "Wait ! This is a lesson I have learnt already".

"You have your highness ? Why not you told ?" Edward overlooked the confuse man, searching for the date to confirm of something if he ought to think. "I was suppose to be dead". Running out of the study room, his feet run through the hallway scaring the servant away until he collide with a soft figure he never thought he could have a second chance to feel.

"Your highness !" Grasp was utter as her maiden hold her lady to stand properly. "Forgive my impertinence, Your Highness, but I must respectfully entreat you to desist from rushing through the corridors with such unseemly haste. Such behavior is unbecoming of a prince, and particularly one who is heir to the throne". The lady hastily courtesy before Edward who's eyes wide and heart racing.

"(Y/N) !" With that openly the rumored distant crown prince embrace lady (Y/N) who's baffled and straight horrified.

Tons of surprised yells by the servants and butler earned by the bold action from the crown prince. "Your highness, it's broad day light !" (Y/N) exclaimed, shame blush over her (S/C) skin, pushed away the man.

"I must also humbly request, Your Highness, that you address me with the formalities due to my station. While whispers of a potential betrothal between us may be circulating, I must remind you that no official arrangement has been made, and thus, I am not yet your affianced. Let us maintain the proprieties, lest we fuel further speculation and unseemly gossip." This time Edward was surprised.

"What ? We haven't ?" The sentence successfully confuse the lady. "Thus, it means I have been traveled back to the past where I am yet to be with (Y/N)" The date of the timeline confirmed and he slowly question if what his memories were his past life or a measly dream— no, it couldn't be because how he known a person he hasn't met to dream and the pain was too much to forget.

"Your—". Edward snap from the spiraling thoughts heard her voice to see her eyes on something else, following it fell over his own bare wrist curved a golden line horizontally. "I don't recall having a scar".

"Your Highness, I implore you, how did you come by that grievous wound ? I beg of you, summon the royal physician forthwith to tend to it". She suggested. "I shall then take my leave". She bowed once again about to turn her heels.

"No ! (Y/N)— Pardon me, (L/N) don't leave me". His palm grip her arms. "Not worry yourself, we will be wed soon". (Y/N)'s eyes wide at the direct confession even her servant almost faint finding the prince who despise her lady.

"Your highness, why on earth have you left ?" Panting the Instructor asked heard each dripping words from his student.

"Professor Auclair, please excuse myself to have an audience with my father". Releasing the astonished lady, he turned his determined face towards his professor.

"A-As you please, your highness". He stutter, completely perplexed by the scenario played in front of each.

"And lady (L/N), I shall have conversation to be your betroth soon". He walked away filling giggles of some servants and confused painted over (Y/N)'s face.

"However I do not wish to be web". She utter under her breath that only her maiden heard and smiled sadly.

"Crown Prince Edward Wright has arrived". The royal guards announced loudly as the end of their swords clashed with the floor and head bowed however the prince paid no attention the peasants and went straight towards his father, who he sat on top of the throne he recalls will be his few years later with mother beside his father on her throne sat.

"Please forgive my rudeness of such hasty audience with you, your Majesty". He bowed hearing the king release a sigh.

"My son, if the matter that weighs upon your mind pertains to the whispers surrounding you and Lady (L/N), then I must affirm that she is indeed the chosen bride, destined to become the future Empress of our realm. And I must confess, she is a paragon of virtue and wisdom, an exemplary choice for a wife and consort." The king elaborate, desperately wants to change the mind of his stubborn saddle-goose son.

"Indeed, my dear son, listen well. Lady (L/N) is a truly exceptional individual, possessing a heart full of kindness and compassion. She would be a devoted wife to you and a loving mother to your future children." The queen joined unaware how Edward has already has a change of heart.

"Be assured, dear parents, that I am in full concurrence with your exceptional choice of bride for me. No other lady can rival the merits and graces of Lady (L/N), and thus, I have come to you". His parents jaws were almost bound to be detached by how surprised they are. "With a proposal to formalize our union. I ardently desire to spend my life as her devoted husband, and she, my loving wife."

King Wright's eyes twitch at the sudden change of enthusiasm. "Son, do you truly wish to be wed, or perchance, do you harbor some hidden design, some secret intention that guides your actions ?" The queen glare at her husband for further query in case their son change his mind again. It's such a golden opportunity that the king is doubt of.

However to their surprise "Indeed, I confess a secret intention— to make Lady (L/N) mine alone, my sole and cherished wife. I have learned from the grave error of my previous denial, and now, I am resolute in my choice. I shall not be swayed, for I have come to realize that she is the true bride destined for me. I fervently hope that she shall be mine." The queen smiled at her son's burning passion and sincere smile for the woman they choose and the king welcomed with open arms to embrace for such an mature decision he made.

Edward leaned forward. "After my last life, father never spare me any affections yet in the second life. I have already gained their heart, (Y/N) is truly the lucky chosen bride for me". Bubbles of happiness clouded his mind for merely thinking of having her his wife again however this time he won't repeat the same mistake.

Soon the news of upcoming marriage between the crown prince Edward Wright and lady (Y/N) (L/N), the daughter of the royal duke sprinkle each of small corner to large other kingdoms. Celebrations and wishes were greeted for soon to be the couple along engagement of money and gifts were at the doorsteps of (Y/N)'s the very next early morning.

"O, my dearest! Behold the boundless generosity they have bestowed upon us, merely because we have consented to bestow our beloved daughter upon the Crown Prince". Her mother's laughter couldn't be contain as she eyed the glossing dress, shining jewels, rare diamonds and more riches.

"Of course my dear, how couldn't they ? Our daughter is to be wed with the crown prince, son of the ruler". Her father proudly stare at her content wife yet when his eyes met his daughter's, the (E/C) looked dull and lost of hope. His daughter stood wearing the unchanged night gown gazing at the presents in return to send the lamb to be slay to slaughter. Yes that's how she felt and expressed too.

"(Y/N) sweety, my apple of the eye. This marriage will be good". He assured.

"But I do not desire". She argued plainly feeling burns from watching herself to be sold to a stranger she doesn't held affections let alone have positive feelings. Each of their meeting, she was greeted by his sneer and hateful eyes, opens his mouth only to shame her for being not enough for his surname to be wed, look down at her as if she was a pest not even human, spat insults to anyone he deem worthless to stand beside him. He is an man created with arrogance and spoiled riches with no care of anyone but himself.

"Ah, my dear, I am well aware of the circumstances, but behold". He titled towards her mother. "Your mother was also my arranged bride, and yet, our union blossomed into a love that has blessed us with a radiant daughter such as yourself." He praised, hugging her small figure into his. "Marriages are oftentimes a matter of duty, and we must learn to find happiness within them, for society can be cruel to spinster, regardless of their station. I have witnessed it myself, and I would not wish such a fate upon my dear daughter." He cares her (H/C) gently giving the reminders he has seen and wish not to be directed upon his daughter.

"I understand father". She did not. She knows herself she is over the ripe age of eighteen and she must find herself a husband however if men stayed bachelor. They are the talk of gossip and compliments. Unfair. What she ought to spat.

The shine of decoration, lights and laughter of the celebration might shy away the moon itself, with the way each family is showing their beaming diamond, new collection, fashionable dress all in the name of ball held for the soon to be royal pair.

(Y/N) miserably drinks her wine, tears were hidden behind those polite (E/C) eyes. Stood alone at the corner. "I am exhausted by the false wishes". She is not foreign to envy looks and forked tongues. "All fault is the bloody prince". If she bared the power against him, she surely could had slapped him or better punch him.

And speak of the devil. "The King Arthur Wright and the Queen Charlotte Wright and their son, the crown prince Edward Wright has arrived". Each person bowed their heads at the sight of the royal family that (Y/N) passionatly cursed. Her eyes peek a little to find the prince already laid eyes on her.

"What ?" An uneasy creeped over her back, looming like an bad omen. Soon the king allowed everyone to stood properly and indulge into celebration. "He is coming towards me". Panic vines shatter over her how closer he is walking with each step she wished for him to stop. However her wish was unheard.

"Lady (Y/N)". He purposely called her first name. "May I have your first and all of your dances". All ? Really ? All ? (Y/N) already begin to be suffocated by how much this man keeping her within his palm for asking all of her dances not caring to do the same for himself.

"My first two dances is yours and the rest should be used by other gentlemen I believe". She search more excuses to support her words. "As it would not—".

"(Y/N)". She flicker her eyes into his. "We are bound to be wed. If I have all of your dances, none would dare to question. Agree already". She noticed his irritation under the sweet words, noticed his fingers took all her dance cards, noticed he held her hand without her consent.

"But—"

"The dance floor is ours". Edward grin ear to ear, taking her to the spotlight of others, spinning her around, holding her close, breathing their faces near and touching her waist.

Splendid.

Fascination.

Happiness.

These words are enough to describe his feeling as he continued to held her desireable waist, spin her around like an princess, drank into her each twitch, glance of eyes and clench that in his past life he heartlessly abandoned. The way her skin glows, light fall over her figure, grown wrapped her bare skin appeal her as a goddess he question himself how on earth he didn't notice. Her gracefulness, truth eyes, plum lips, soft cheeks are enough to engrossed him to her forever, make him slave to her beauty and kindness she gave his past life is enough to say his heart went to her.

"I love you". He mutter breathlessly boring into those (E/C) eyes he once thought was cruel when in truth was stern and nothing more. (Y/N)'s breath hitch at the sudden confession and all the curses and disheartment she felt was briming heavily.

Suffocated.

Trapped.

Toyed.

These emotions were all she felt. How shamelessly he could confess to her when with the same lips he degraded her, mocked her, laughed at her ? How one could be so cruel to utter love words to their victims as if he didn't torment her enough by claiming her his for eternal.

Before the daughter of the royal duke, before a woman, she is a human bearing her own emotions and wishes. Just because tonight he felt love, she have to bend to his whims, if the next he felt loathe, does she also have to sumit ? Be a toyed and birth cow for him.

"Your highness, I do not share the same feelings as yours". With courage she denied making him pause their beautiful dance and his future fantasy shatter.

"W-what ?" His ears refuse to listen to what her lips convey.

"I said, I do not love your highness to be wed with you". Honestly she spoke, glancing around the whispering crowd looking at them with curiosity due to why they paused their dancing.

"She is lying. There is no way she doesn't love me ! If she didn't love me then she couldn't come to help—" click ! His eyes wide noticing how she never cared for him in his past life because she too didn't bore love that slowly grew the longer she stayed married with him. Yes, that's the correct reasonable answer he come with.

"But in past life she didn't confess to me these— oh !" Because he changed the course of events effecting other's choice of decision too. Which also applys she could annul their engagement. "Never. She was and will be my wife".

"O heaven !"

"What a passionate couple".

"The crown prince is indeed in love". Guests, servants and the duke and his wife and the king and queen all cheer in surprise by the bold action unfold in front of them.

Because Edward insteadly gripped her wrist to lean closer and press their lips together. (Y/N) hopes crash and Edward's wish fulfilled by tainting his wife now no men will dare to ask for her hand if she annul their engagement after all her purity is taken by the famous crown prince.

"Sweet". He thought moving their lips to the taste the untouched lips he was fool to miss in his past life yet this life he was wiser. Soon, the touch of reality hit her hard and she pushed him to run outside not care of the world that the people thought were due to shyness but Edward knew better.

Licking his lips. He looked at the crowd. "Pardon me, my bride has shy away". Walk away confidently wearing the smirk over his lips.

"My (Y/N), why did you ran away ? People would have thought something else". He snicker finding her crouching near the balcony as if breathing the needed air. His predatory eyes scan her taking him back to their wedding night of leaving such a goddess alone to fend herself.

"Not worry, this wedding night I will be the best husband". He promised, hands circle her from behind, caressing the stomach he imaged to be swollen with his seed and kiss her neck feeling her stiff.

Wedding day came sooner than (Y/N) wanted, sitting in front of the mirror painting herself into the white colors of the bride, ready to be sold and a lamb ready to be cut. Tears were wiped faster than she could cry, sadness were heavier than her heart could bear. The veil finally covet her beauty only for her husband to ruin.

"My beautiful daughter is the prettiest bride I ever seen". Mama compliment, sniff happy tears.

"She is". Papa agreed, hugging her tight only to let her go to serve the hand to a stranger named crown prince after she walked down the aisle.

Edward was bewitched to see her once again in the color white to be his bride and later wear royality colors. He firmly held her shivering palms. Confessed "I do". To the priest, to the god who took mercy on him and gave him a second chance to amend his regrets to his wife who also whisper "I do". With a kiss sealing their fate.

"She is the most beautiful creature I beheld" even more than that witch. He looked at her after the kiss to cover the veil again making sure no men could get a glimse of something belongs to his and he smiled, waving to the cheerful crowd when his eyes met Isabella, the witch that ruined his life currently laughing hand in hand with a unknown man he figured was her betrothed she confess in their past life.

"I will make sure she dies with her lover". He planned, snake his arm around his lovely wife's waist awaiting the perfect wedding night where he sweep her feet from the eyes of others, excusing them and lay her on their shared bedroom, watching her to pled.

"How about we rest ? It's not like we must do it—".

"(Y/N), I do know you were taught the next day maids will check whether we consummate or not by the blood you bled thus, let's make love". Excitement was not hidden away the way red colored his pale skin and eyes into cupid hearts staring at the woman belongs to him again.

He hastily unbotton few before diving to kiss those feather alike lips dripping with honey along tongue envade her sweet little mouth tasting each and every corner and intertwining their tongues together like their fate are as his sly fingers find their way to her back to unbotton and rip away her piece of cloth to protect from his gaze that scan her bossom tucked under her corset yet the skin was shown.

Terrified and bare under those sapphire eyes, her arms protest to cover herself that soon were useless when Edward easily with his strength hold in one palm "Don't hide away such luxury from your husband". Hunger lace in his voice as his other hand recklessly tore the corset away unravelling her bare skin and freed bossom that bounce due to the empact.

He almost wished to whistle like a wolf when he saw her bare upper shinning the (S/C) skin donned by the moonlight. Her ample breast would be good to fed his children and the smooth stomach perfect to carry children inside and hips perfect. His arm snake around her bare skin sending shiver at the cold and an unwanted touch.

"Be good". Tears finally fell from her eyes, she no longer able to held the pain and humiliation she has to endured, terrified by the actions rolling one after another. "Shh, everything will be right". He hushed her kissing away the salty tears he tasted sweet, pressing his lips over her cheek sliding down to her neck to the collarbone and finally to her bossom. Butterfly kissing them and foddling them to make her moan, to make her enjoy as much as he does however (Y/N) not at all feel pleasure or any positive emotions rather she is tormented, her stomach is turning in disgust and her hands threat to right at this moment slit the man's throat to put an end of his life.

More tears roll down when she felt his tongue wrap around her bossom buds, sucking and coating with his saliva. "Ahh ! These will be the buds my children will have too but these are only mine". Merely at the thought of it blood rush to his already erection and heat under his skin.

Soon the another bud was equally red from all the sucking while his own skin was drawning blood from the way (Y/N)'s nail was deep into his flesh. This were her way of gifting him pain yet he adore the crescent shapes given by his goddess.

His hands threat trace her stomach to her lower part ripping the remaining cloth to bare entire her. Finally (Y/N) felt she could die if the man touch her another most reserved part she wished to give her lover, she slapped Edward.

The sharp noise fill the silent room for a second startling the patient prince and the blood that spill from his cheek when her nails too gaze harshly over his flesh.

"This is the second time". He counted someone dare to raise their hand yet oddly enough he licked the blood and his eyes decorated with lust. Finally the thread of patient he was keeping was cut and he ruthlessly push her over the bed again earning grasp from her and cries of mercy to be left alone however he ripe his own suit that covered his desire and finally claim the woman of his dreams who was ruined every second of the moment and it lasted until the next day's evening.

—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—

Soon enough the day he was crowned the King in his past life remained the same in his second life along his queen (Y/N) who he made love almost each passing day.

"All hail the new King".

"All wish the King thousands of years".

"All wish the King propitious and happiness". Edward drank all the praises belonging to him albeit he doesn't need it because his wife is lucky charm in his life.

"Now we shall drink wines". Each of his subjects and royals and himself and his wife raise their glasss to connect to their lips. Edward drink, smiling to his wife who remain her eyes over the liquid with an impassive expression.

However soon the pleasure turned into horror feeling the same bitterness and suffocated as his lips were once again tainted by his own blood and heart throbbing. He fell down, hands reached for his wife to touch, eyes ache for her to look when he could feel the royals, others coming closer to him to save and call the royal physician yet his vision darken, his beloved never spare a glance at him.

—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—

"Your highness ? Your highness ?" Edward awaken once again hearing his professor Auclair call him repeating the same words how he had fallen asleep during their lecture and when he ran through the hallways he met with his yet to be future wife (Y/N) (L/N). Confused he held her bittersweet to able to feel her warmth and that's when he saw again. This time curved two golden line horizontally on his bare wrist.

—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—

"Am I given life again ? Is the lines are my lives I live ? My third life ?" This time too he went straight to his father to fix the marriage between them after all they are fated together then he went to library to search for his repeat travel to past.

"The answer lies on the holy book". His fingers brush the pages of The chapter of holy water : The miracle of second lesson. It is written those who the deity deem most sinful mortal to repeat their past to correct their mistakes and if in their second life, the mortals harm another being mentally or physically, they are punished to return to their past once again if they die and the prove of such reoccurring cycle is the golden scar curved on their flesh.

"Because I killed Isabella and her lover in my second life. I was sent to past again ? But the death was an assassination perhaps". He desire to punish himself for being such an fool and let go the life that was perfect however this time he will again get his wife and prevent himself to drink any liquid at any ceremony especially his crowed king moment.

Each and all moment played out the same from the ball event to their wedding to their shared first night expect some changes and currently the crown heavy loom above his head beside sat his queen.

"All wish the King propitious and happiness". All the member within the room sip their drinks expect the King himself who claimed he has sickness to prevent drinking the posion while he watched his queen sip little by little not sparing a glance at him like their second life which he didn't found pleasant thus he fantasize how in their bed he will make her eyes on him the entire time.

"This will be the perfect ending". Or so he thought because why on earth is he laying on the ground, holding his slit throat to end the bleeding and eyes wide at his wife, (Y/N) (L/N) holding a sword that smeared with his crimson hue as she continue to watch his life fade.

"Why ?" Why ? Why ? Why ? Why ? Why again is he betrayed by the person he adores ? How could he be killed by the hands he caress and die at the feet he worshipped.

"Why ? Because why not. Your highness". Her lips stretch into a beautiful smile donned by the moonlight seeking inside their shared bedroom. "You bled my blood in the name of love on bed then why am I not allowed to do the same ?" Giggles echo the cold night.

"Forgive me, it was a comical sentence. I did not murder you in the name of love rather I murder you in the name of hate". He choked more blood.

"Impossible—".

"Impossible right ? Because why on earth would I in our first life would give you water to save ?" She laugh some more leaving him surprise.

"You aware—".

"Not at first yet slowly I do". She crounch, staring down at him alike of his past self who look down on people like they are pest. "Your Highness, the liquid I provided you in our first life was not mere water, but holy water, imbued with the power of rebirth. It was not the deity who deemed you worthy of rebirth, but I, the very same woman you once despised. However—" She put a finger over his lips. "Before you assume or imagine that I saved you out of benevolence, no, I must confess, I tricked you." (Y/N) titled her head.

"Verily, the moment I beheld you proposing to another woman, even as you were betrothed to me, and publicly humiliating me in the process, was the very instant I resolved to make you suffer all the anguish, torment, and disgust that I felt during our wretched marriage. It was then that I devised a plan to manipulate the ritual of the holy water, which grants a second chance to those who drink it upon their deathbed. However, I added a twist to the ritual, a curse in disguise, whereby not only would the person who imbibed it be reborn, but also doomed to repeat the cycle of rebirth, again and again, ad infinitum, like a wretched, cursed loop." Edward's eyes wide at the answer of his questions behind his repeat mercy that was curse in disguise.

"And when I had resolved to take your life, fate intervened, and your first lover herself presented me with the perfect opportunity. Seizing the chance, I administered the accursed drink to you, condemning you to the cycle of rebirth. You mistook my actions for kindness as you lay dying in your first life, but little did you know, my future self would ascend to the throne, reveling in the pleasures of power. (Y/N) loved the horror and betrayed written over his face. What she will never told him that the reason she aware is through her memories that came flashing the moment her eyes fell over his golden lines of lives.

"And my another self in our second life has been wed to another and this time I will be waiting to see what becomes of me". She throw back her head, wickedly laughed.

"I-I will kill you". Edward vowed and glare at the woman he loves.

"Aww, sweet however even if you kill me in my next life. Nothing will ever stop you from dying again and again until all the golden lines are spread over your flesh then when you die again will be your last mortal days". The queen stood up, brushing her white gown and throwing the sword in some corner. "My Majesty, everything shall be right". She mockly titled her bow watching he took his last breath to restart his past.

(Y/N) screamed her lungs out, calling servants, bulter, royal physician "O heavens ! The King has been murdered". She moured, falling on her knees, crying hysterically as every person enter inside the room, dragging his cold wrapped body and her to protect.

"I saw little glimpse of some men who murdered my husband". Tears were streaming over her cheeks however her shoulder were shivering due to her laughter she hid behind her palm.

Soon the royality mour the King's death together and she was crowned the ruler, singing her praises and throwing flowers over her. She grin fleeing from the golden cage she was trapped by replacing her former husband within it. Her (E/C) eyes fell over a certain man bowing his head to the queen and held not only her hand even her heart and body at night before becoming the King consort.

"Dearest, how are Lily and Henry ?" (Y/N) asked finally sitting upon her bed to drain away stress of the royal advisors and royal meeting. A pair of hands message her shoulders while leaving fluttering kisses on her shoulder and butterflies inside her stomach.

"They are good, my love". He carried her on his lap, kissing her deeply.

"Really ? I have my doubt after all Lily is turning five this year and Henry— eight albeit he acts like an bandit not like an crown prince, François". She sweetly giggle at her husband's nuzzling.

"He is growing. Not need to be stern my dear". Her husband gently explained, taking her corset off and laying her on bed with blush beaming from his skin and hearts swimming on those red jewels like eyes. "He is indeed your son with the way he behaves".

"And Lily like her mother". He compliment back.

"Beholding you, none would ever suspect that you are the same formidable Royal Commander of France, whose hands have been stained with the blood of thousands, and yet, you touch me with those very same hands as if I were a delicate pearl". (Y/N) breath contently.

"Indeed, love". He dive for a kiss from the wife he madly is in love with while (Y/N) spoke directed towards a certain someone stuck in an cursed loop "Love of blessing or curse in hatred".

FIN

131 notes · View notes

yandere-sins · 2 years ago

Note

the yandere ghost is just 💕😭. your thoughts on yandere König? 👀

Thank you ♥ Please enjoy :3 (I am also really enjoying it rn that I have the ö key on my keyboard hehehe, fuck yeah, finally the german keyboard is useful >:D)

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

♡ Lord have mercy on the poor soul trapped with and König himself. He can't go even a second without thinking of his darling stuck alone at the base (living their best life away from him), but once he's around you, he's way too awkward to do anything with you. If you were to hold out your hand invitingly to him, he'd—at most!— brush his fingertips over your palm, ready to die happily as he shudders from the sensation. Guy holds your hand once (which costs him a ton of courage), and his heart just... stops. He has to leave the room afterward, or he might lose it, sweating, cursing, pants bulging, and so, so much need inside him to go back and do it again. He wants to go back immediately, kiss you, hold you, and rub against you just once. But unless you invite him again, he'll try to be patient and not pressure you into it, even if it's (he's) so hard and kneeling in front of you, biting his lip so he doesn't beg you to tell him to come closer.

♡ Luckily, his awkwardness also means there is a way to get some peace by collecting all your courage and just randomly hug him while he's busy doing something (that he thinks you'll like, like cleaning or cooking). It'll put him into a state of shock that could potentially make or break your escape. Just kidding. You reach for his gun? You're on the ground or pinned against the wall, his arm choking you as he shouts at you to never fucking do that again. He's scared for your safety first, scary as he looms, pins, and threatens you second. König will be incredibly sorry afterward for hurting you and lashing out as he has to watch you try to breathe again once he retreats after realization sets in. He's furious—at you, at him, at the fact you could have been hurt by his negligence. So at least he leaves you alone for a while to cool off and find a solution, only returning when he's secured some sweets and gummi bears as an attempt for you two to reconcile.

♡ He's very much a beaten dog that will run to any kind of affection you give him. Ask him a question? He drops everything and stands by your side in seconds, even if it's just yes or no. He's inching closer, and you don't look at him or tell him to stop? He'll put his head in your lap and let out a giant blissful sigh. König tries to join any activity he permitted, so if you chill on the couch and watch TV, get ready to almost drop over the edge while he scoots in behind you, or have him hover over you while you do a puzzle, watching which piece you'll place next with enormous interest. He lives for not being rejected by you, and it's his ruin when you tell him to leave you alone and to go away, that you hate him, or that you'll never like him. Please balance these two things carefully, 'cause one day he'll decide to be the monster you keep trying to make him out to be. And you won't like learning just how big, bad, and needy he can be when you push him over the edge. Hint: You're just a doll (what kind depends on his mood) in his hands. Never forget that.

♡ Absolutely does not share you. Don't you dare to look at someone else, even if he has to bring you on a mission. Don't sit anywhere but his lap, never leave his side, and for the love of God, don't open your mouth to speak to anyone but him. Somehow, being with other people makes all these insecurities and anxiety go away for a while, even though when you two are back in private, he asks if you still like him the most. It's almost as if he is showing you off, but the moment someone notices you, he gets growly and visibly possessive, placing his arm around your body (slinging it over your shoulder and grabbing your side like a seatbelt), picking you up, making you straddle his thigh and face him, etc. König hates everyone and anything that looks at you, almost more than when they look at him and he feels judged. You're simply off-limits for others.

♡ He rarely threatens you with violence, but he's love bombing you to the extent that sometimes you forget you're his captive, not his actual partner. König brings you new flowers whenever the old ones wilt, asks you to dance in the kitchen with him, cooks your favorite meals regularly, and asks you out on dates (those rarely happen because "you don't know how to behave," he says, giggling. He doesn't know how to behave either, maybe you two shouldn't be out there together). He buys you things that remind him of you, and even when you have an emergency craving, he gets out at one in the morning to somehow fulfill it. König constantly tells you how much you mean to him and that you're the best thing that's ever happened in his life. If he's a little more confident in your relationship (aka, after you stopped struggling so much), you can count on many gentle touches, pats, head kisses, hugs, hand kisses, rocking you to sleep, etc. He really makes it seem like you're in a relationship.

♡ You probably made the mistake of getting a bit too friendly with him for his twisted mind to understand you were just trying to be nice. He never had that kind of connection with anyone before, and he just had to have you afterward, all to himself, or he might have lost his mind. This desperation is why he keeps you locked away, trying so desperately to sweeten the deal for you by doing everything he can to appease you. There's no one else to wait for him whenever he returns home, give his life another meaning other than killing, so he clings to you who once showed him exactly what he always wanted—an unafraid smile, a welcoming greeting, and kindness radiating off you. He can't share you for the very same reason, knowing that you could make any man go mad with your abilities to welcome them into your life.

♡ Calls you all sorts of loving names like: "Schatz" (treasure), "Liebling" (Darling), "Kleine/Kleiner/Kleines" (fem/masc/gn translates to "Little/Small one") as well as "Große/Großer" (fem/masc translates to "Big/Tall one"), "Prinz/Prinzessin/Eure Majestät" (Prince, Princess, Your Majesty).

♡ You're the only person who can make him come to a complete standstill. He's known to be hyperactive and rarely able to calm down. Still, if you are forced to hug him and let his hand run up and down your back, he's the most focused and calm soldier anyone has ever seen. He doesn't blink, doesn't flinch or move (if not to put you out of harm's way), doesn't speak—a massive silent blot in the landscape. He's able to focus on everything that's discussed, can answer questions easily without stuttering. All that and more, just because he has you like a little comfort plush. It's something his Platoon knows to appreciate and use if needed. Otherwise, they try to stay away from you as far as possible to avoid the calmness turning into terror, unlike what these soldiers have ever seen. No one wants to cross König. They leave being a ragdoll to you.

♡ On days that he comes home exhausted, his insecurities and awkwardness will just be overwritten by exhaustion, so he doesn't care what he does as long as it involves you. He'll lead your hands to where he wants to be touched, forcing you to undress him and ripping your clothes off so he can take you to the bath with him, where you two squeeze into his tub together. There's little space, but König hugs you to his chest and hides his face in your shoulder, taking deep breaths to decompress while you have the option to either ask if he wants to talk about his day or stay silent. He won't allow you to complain or struggle, shutting it down immediately. Squeezing you shut if he must. He's over it for that day. He does, however, not force but relish in it if you decide to take care of him on a whim or because you don't want to be stuck in his tight embrace. He'll let you wash the dirt and blood sticking to him off, kissing your hands reverently as if they are his lifeline keeping him grounded, thoughts off the battlefield, lets you comb his hair, massage his back, or even touch his face before he helps you dry off, wrapping you with his huge towel and carries you to bed with him. Never mind food or other necessities, König simply buries you under his body as he falls asleep partially on top of you. He's not even sorry for touching you so much in the morning. He just apologizes sleepily for drooling on you before he gets up to get some water for you two, still in his full, naked glory. He does, however, eventually realize you two slept next to each other stark-naked, and he has to recover from choking on the water he just drank while he runs to get you both clothes.

2K notes · View notes

thisgirlnamedblusy · 3 months ago

Note

Hi! I love your work as always!

Can I request Reader, being from the village and being devout to Mother Miranda all their life, hasn’t forgotten their devotion to her and still prays every night. Normally this wouldn’t bother Donna.. but she starts to get jealous. Every prayer reader makes Donna imagines possesive and dark thoughts about Reader praying to her instead. One night during a particularly lengthy prayer, Donna snaps and let’s her dark thoughts consume her by making Reader not only pray to her, but make her worship her. Smut please G!P Donna if you want! Thank you for all you do 🖤

Yesss!!!! Thank you for your support and for your request!!!!Thank you for reading me!!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :))))

Pray

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: G!P Donna, smut, Minors DNI, dark themes, dark Donna, Donna's POV

Word count: 8,550

Summary: I'm the one who can be your Goddess...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

I never asked for mercy, I never demanded a place in this world full of shadows, but still, I got it. I can't complain about obtaining eternal life. I don't even have the right to protest about the horror that the gift of the Gods did to the scar on my face, about how they had fun transforming my body. A life of eternal youth, of power, of having the ability to influence others, to scare them, to make them fear me...

After that second chance, I thought that loneliness was over, but it was just an illusion, a passing thought that never came true. Over time I realized that maybe that was my fate; that I, Donna Beneviento, was born to be a Lord and not a normal, ordinary woman.

My madness existed long before the Cadou, and it continued to exist after. If I was a hermit before, I was a monster now. I didn't really care too much if those poor villagers thought that way, they could call me whatever they wanted.

With a snap of my fingers I could make them suffer, punish them even if I had no reason to do so. Yes, it was funny to play with the lives of those perfect fools, but even that small thrill of creating nightmares in their minds stopped being funny.

Loneliness consumed me little by little without me being aware of it. Thanks to Angie, I was able to bear this new life better, but that had one big difference: I couldn't escape from this life.

Years passed and nothing changed. I began to understand what it meant to be someone like me, to be feared. I never sought out contact with other people. I never wanted to end that loneliness, until I met you.

If I had acted the same way as always, that is, making a stupid excuse not to attend Mother Miranda's sermon… Well, I probably wouldn't have met you.

You were a strange, but beautiful girl. That was the first thing I thought. My black veil protected me from the horrified gazes of those stupid villagers, but it also protected you from seeing me looking at you.

A young girl who wasn't afraid to kneel before the Black Gods, a beautiful growing woman who clasped her hands to pray for her salvation. It was impossible for such a sight not to catch my attention. After all, any kind of contact was new to me, any strange feeling I had when looking at you was a new discovery.

It wasn't love at first. I could say it was more like... Fixation.

My siblings were always clear about their position in the village. They always knew they could do whatever they wanted with those poor souls. Sometimes I wondered what would have happened if I had given in to my instincts, if my approach hadn't been silent.

You would only be one more victim, I would have terrified you. I would have never given you the chance to try to get to know me.

I would have had you, I would have taken you as I imagined so many times in my lonely nights, I would have enjoyed your body but… I would have lost you.

I would have lost that warmth your smile transmitted, the touch of those soft hands, that tender look… I couldn't say if it would have been worth possessing you, claiming you as mine as soon as I met you.

But the good side of my conscience, the side that had not yet been conquered by the demons of my madness was the one that guided me, the one that forced me to repress my primary desires, the one that showed me the right way to have you and never lose you.

Love was always a mystery to me. I couldn't understand what made people feel weak in contact with others. Yes, I had read a lot of novels that talked about it, I knew it existed, but I needed to see it to believe.

Your smile never faded, not even the day I looked for you in the church, when I heard your beautiful voice for the first time. Your voice sounded sweet, much better than any nightmare scream, than any call for help.

After meeting you, I realized how wrong I was about my impure thoughts. Love existed, it lived in you.

Neither my face nor my body stopped you from looking at me that way, one that drove me even crazier, that made me feel like I could fly, that my loneliness had an expiration date.

It was hard for me to understand what an angel like you could have seen in a demon like me, but… Yes, love could do those things. Admitting that I loved before kissing you was difficult for me.

My sister said that love was weakness; that any desire I had shouldn’t interfere with absurd feelings. I didn't listen to her.

It didn't take long for you to live with me, to give in to my pleas. You were so sweet, so tender, so… You.

Then I understood what my sister didn't understand, the difference between loving and satisfying, between asking and taking. Did she ever feel that way about one of her maids? Well, I can't deny it outright, but I'm convinced that she didn't.

Asking you for a kiss was much better than stealing it from you. Caressing your hands was much better than tying them behind your back. They were free to touch me, to slide over my skin in the same way, it was an incredibly pleasurable sensation.

Taking your innocence was much better than stealing it from you, making love to you was much better than raping you, than letting the darkness inside me claim your body.

Enjoying the dance of our bodies, that unmatched feeling of being inside you and looking into your eyes, watching the sparkle in your gaze as you burned with pleasure couldn’t compare to hearing you scream, beg, fight against my attacks.

For once in my sad life, I think I did the right thing, and I don't regret it, nor will I ever regret it.

“(Y/N)?” I asked walking towards the kitchen, where your sweet humming echoed in the walls, like a voice that guided me to you, as an indication that it was not a dream, that love had come into my life, and would never leave, would never dare to do so.

(Y/N), if you ever dared to even think about leaving me... I would lose my mind, I would hurt you...

“Donna…” you said laughing, protesting the kisses that attacked your neck, the effusiveness that my body had every time I saw you in the morning. “Hey, I'm making breakfast.”

I laughed the same way, pushing the hair from your neck and kissing it before leaning on the counter, hypnotized by your beauty, by your way of being.

Sometimes I wonder what you could see in a monster like me…

“Did you sleep well, tesoro?” I asked innocently, without being able to take my horrendous eye off your figure, off that elegance you had, which made no sense in a simple villager like you.

Could love turn a commoner into a princess?

“Oh, yes,” you answered with a soft voice, focused on that magnificent breakfast. “Thanks to the Black Gods and Mother Miranda.”

“Ahem,” I cleared my throat in a playful way, looking away, pretending to be offended.

“Oh, and to you, darling, of course,” you said, running a hand through mine as an apology. “How about you?”

“I’m fine,” I said dryly, looking away.

Nothing you had said could make me angry or cool down the desire I had every morning to love you, but there was something, something that sounded in my head like a tedious loop, and that had been doing so for a long time.

“Okay,” you whispered, nodding with a smile. “Oh, could you go up and set the table?”

“Sure,” I said, kissing your cheek quickly, coming out of that strange moment, one that was becoming more and more evident.

“You are an angel, did you know that?” you said before I disappeared through the door, forcing me to stop with an involuntary smile as I shook my head.

“That's not true,” I said, trying not to let the darkness take over my words, not to let the demons out of the cage I made for them. “But, thank you…”

I went up in the elevator like every morning, reflecting on how my life had changed. My hands trembled involuntarily when my mind took charge of worrying me, of taking me out of that paradise to take me back to hell.

My life with you was perfect but… Did perfection really last forever? That was, of course, my greatest fear.

Happiness was fleeting, or so they used to say. I try to keep those thoughts away, but sometimes it's complicated.

I know what I am like, I know I am… Possessive, jealous, I don't allow you certain things that should be normal, but I can't help it. Losing you after having raped you would have been horrible but… Losing you when I already know the love you can give me, when I know how your kisses, your caresses feel…

Hell could not compare to that. I would surely hurt you, make you suffer, but you wouldn’t feel the damage, it would be torture for me.

“Hey, you, buongiorno!” a shrill voice managed to wake me from those horrible thoughts, from those imaginary scenarios in which your smile no longer adorned your face and you begged for compassion.

Luckily, Angie had always been with me. She was conscience that was part of me and at the same time was so different… I wonder if the doll my father gave me stole that part of my personality that never dared to come to light.

“You?” I said with a smile, picking up the doll from the floor and putting her disastrous clothes on, something that always comforted me. “Buongiorno, Angie.”

“Where's the fool?” the doll asked, peeking over my shoulder, looking at the elevator hallway.

“Don't call her that, you know I hate it,” I protested, frowning and leaving the puppet back on the floor.

“Fool, fool, fool,” she repeated mockingly, making me roll my eye as I walked to the cupboard. “Can't I say she's a fool?”

“(Y/N) isn't a fool, stop making fun of her,” I said in a somber tone.

No one could ever insult you, no one.

“Hey, hey, hey, Donna, Donna,” Angie said, tugging on my dress impatiently. I snorted, but stopped setting the table to look at her. “Do you know what that silly… I mean, (Y/N) made me do yesterday?”

“Angie, per favore…” I sighed again, with a serious look, pushing the puppet away from my clothes. “Leave me alone.”

“That silly girl made me pray, can you believe it?” Angie said climbing onto the table to get my attention even more, something she was mysteriously an expert at.

“Pray? You?” I asked curiously, with a mocking smile.

“Yes, me, that silly girl said I had to show more respect for Mother Miranda,” the puppet explained and I frowned again.

“You have no respect for anyone,” I whispered, meticulously placing all the plates and cutlery, not paying attention to the doll’s complaints. “Just do what she tells you.”

“Ohh, I see…” Angie murmured, shaking her head, crossing her arms. “So you defend her, huh?”

“Of course I defend her,” I said seriously, straightening the tablecloth. A perfect table for a perfect girl… as expected. “You know how devoted she is.”

“You only defend her because you play baby-making with her,” she protested unpleasantly, making me look up and growl.

“Basta, Angie,” I said in a stern tone. “I don't know where you learned all that rudeness.”

“From here, silly Donna,” the doll said, hitting my head, making me protest again.

“Ugh…” I complained about the blows. “Stay still, will you?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Angie mocked. “It must be very hard for you to be the second, right?”

“What are you talking about?” I asked confused.

It shouldn't be difficult for me to know how to interpret the doll's words, but she knew very well how to confuse me.

“This morning she rejected you again,” Angie said, getting down from the table. “I know.”

“What? Well, she didn't exactly reject me,” I said, remembering that moment when I woke up and my body was begging to be released by your caresses, by yours… “She just doesn't like me to interrupt her while she prays.”

“Of course, of course…” the doll mocked me again, making me snort tired of her attitude. “Oh, Mother Miranda, yes, Mother Miranda… I prefer to pray to you than to let Donna stick her…”

“Taci!” I shouted furiously, clenching my fists on both sides of my hips, breathing heavily. “Stop saying stupid and rude things.”

“Sorry, Your Majesty,” she said with an ironic tone, pretending to bow. “Admit it.”

“What?” I asked, shaking my head and waiting impatiently for you to come up, to free me from the accusations of the doll.

“It bothers you,” Angie said with a proud tone. “That the fool ignores you because she spends most of her time praying to Miranda bothers you.

“It doesn't bother me,” I said, sure of my words. “She is free to pray as much as she wants.”

“Honestly, it would bother me,” the doll commented, with a calmer tone.

It wasn't possible, it was simply not possible for my doll to be able to navigate each of my thoughts.

“I'm not you,” I hissed crossing my arms in a cocky manner. “(Y/N) is the love of my life and I don't care about her devotion to Miranda, it's a good thing, in fact.”

“She would have to be devoted to you and not to Miranda,” Angie explained.

“You know perfectly well that it has nothing to do with me,” I said in a dark tone.

I don't know at what point I insisted on arguing with the doll. You loved me, only me.

“It has nothing to do with you? Are you completely sure about that, Donna?” the puppet asked, before the elevator rang, indicating that you were finally at my side.

I remained thoughtful, searching for a silent answer to that question. No, it didn't bother me, that devotion of yours, that fervent adoration you felt for Miranda was never a problem for me but, as I sat in front of you, helping you serve breakfast, Angie's words traveled through my head.

Are you completely sure about that, Donna?

“I was starting to think you weren't coming,” I said with a fake smile, kindly serving you a cup of that perfect coffee you made. Everything you made was perfect, everything.

“Well, I'd like to say that I stopped getting lost in the basement but I'd be…” you said in a sweet voice, with a slight blush on your cheeks.

“Lying,” I finished your sentence in a dry way.

Sometimes my voice doesn't match my intentions but, of course, you already knew that.

“Hey, Donna!” you said abruptly, giving my hand a soft slap when I reached out to grab one of your perfect pieces of toast.

I opened my eye wide and pulled my hand back, rubbing the place where you hit it with a sad look.

“We should pray first,” you said as you lowered your head, joining your hands together. I looked at you with a frown and then turned my eye to Angie, who was laughing, probably at me. “Come on, sweetheart.”

I sighed, blinking and shaking my head and clasped my hands together as you closed your eyes.

“Great ones, hear our voice, together as one in reverence,” you began with a pleasant whisper, but for some reason, it didn’t feel that way to me this time. “We on thee you within the endless dark, to deliver us into fate’s hands… Donna…”

I blinked, sighing. Of course, you noticed that I hadn’t prayed with you in a while.

Why would I want to pray, (Y/N)? I was a damn Lord.

“Yes…” I sighed with a groan. “Um… Um…

“As the midnight…” you said to help me continue with what I refused to do. Normally it wasn't a problem for me, in fact, I had been hearing that prayer for many years, too many. I just didn't want to do it that day.

"As the midnight moon rises on black wings, so we make our sacrifice,” we said at the same time, “and we wait for the light at the end. In life, and in death, we give glory, Mother Miranda…”

“That's it, you can eat,” you said with a smile once you let your hands go. I looked at you intensely and confusedly.

Are you completely sure about that, Donna?

“Va bene…” I sighed, picking up the toast again, buttering it while I struggled with my own conscience.

No, there was nothing wrong with your fervent devotion. You were a good faithful to Mother Miranda, and that had to be good for both of us, right? Right?

The sound of cutlery was the only thing that could be heard in the quiet morning. A pleasant sound, proof that you were by my side, that your smile was there for me to look up and contemplate it as many times as I wanted. Angie only said nonsense.

“You look beautiful this morning, tesoro,” I commented, daring to break the silence with a compliment, one that caused your body to move nervously, pleased by my words.

You bit your lip without answering, lowering your head to avoid me noticing your embarrassment.

“Donna…” you sighed romantically. “You are very flattering today.”

“Just today?” I asked amused, trying to seduce you with my gaze, something simple, but that somehow seemed more complicated to me. “(Y/N), I, I would like… I would like to change the portrait on the stairs.”

“The portrait?” you asked curiously, blowing on the hot coffee. “Why? It's beautiful, Donna…”

“Well, that's your opinion,” I said somewhat nervously, shaking my head. “You know it's not loyal to reality.”

“Mm, it's true,” you said nodding, resting your head on one of your hands and blinking childishly. “Reality is much better.”

“You’re very flattering too,” I whispered tenderly, playing with the hand you had absentmindedly left on the table, a serious mistake. Mine would always look for it.

“The Gods have granted me a good mood today,” you said with a confident tone that made me suddenly withdraw my hand, forcing my brow to frown again.

Are you completely sure about that, Donna?

“C-Certo,” I stammered, playing with the toast, hardening my gaze, looking away from yours. “I, what I wanted to tell you is that… Well, now that you're with me, I'd like to change the portrait for, for one of us, you know, of the two of us.”

“Really?” you asked with shining eyes, ones that I couldn't resist, that I couldn't help but look at again. “I think it's a great idea, Donna.”

“I thought so,” I whispered, taking your hand again. “I'll talk to Alcina and…”

“Wait, well, it's a good idea but…” you interrupted with a thoughtful smile.

“But?” I asked nervously. “What's wrong, tesoro?”

“Now that you mention the portraits…” you murmured looking erratically around you. “…I've realized that this house is missing something.”

“What's missing?” I asked curiously, looking at the same places as her.

“I can't believe it, Donna,” you said with a stern but at the same time amused voice. “Isn't there a single portrait of Mother Miranda?”

“A portrait of Mother Miranda?” I asked, moving my hand away again, letting the romanticism of that perfect breakfast be distorted by your words.

I couldn't, I shouldn't be annoyed, but I was.

“Yes,” you said, nodding, with an innocent tone and a smile that, of course, wasn't for me. “Well, I know that you're like her daughter and that you're a Lord… But, Donna, that doesn't exempt you from your obligations.”

“Obligations,” I murmured confused, with my heart beating fast, furious for no apparent reason.

“Yes, my love… Mother Miranda loves and protects us and the least we can do is bless our home with her presence.”

I laughed nervously, I didn't know if it was because of how ridiculous that sounded, or because Angie's words made more and more sense.

“I don't see the joke, Donna,” you said with a serious tone, relaxing your smile and crossing your arms

“I'm not laughing…” I said swallowing a growl and shaking my head. “Tesoro, that's not necessary. Mother Miranda is always with all of us, besides, I'm the one who takes care of you and protects you,” I hissed with a voice that was perhaps too dark, perhaps taken out of context, out of place.

For some reason, saying that made me feel good…

“Why can you take care of me and protect me?” you asked with a certain irony, with a tone that made me clench my fists unconsciously.

“Because I love you?” I said, with that same tone, one lacking the love and romanticism with which I always communicated with you.

“No, darling, because Mother Miranda adopted you as her daughter, took pity on you and saved you from your misery. I can't believe you're that ungrateful,” you said with a serious voice, with that smile off your face.

I could think you were joking, exaggerating, but the lack of sparkle in your eyes confirmed my suspicions. Damn, (Y/N) you were completely serious.

“Ungrateful? Me?” I asked, getting up from the chair and pointing at myself. “I'm a Lord, (Y/N).”

“Mm yes, so that gives you the right to be more important than Mother Miranda?” you answered quickly.

You weren't stupid, that's why I fell in love with you, although I never thought it would turn against me.

“No… Yes… Well, I don't know, (Y/N), I should be more important than Miranda, at least for you,” I said angrily, fixing my furious eye on yours.

Again, you didn't even flinch.

“Mother Miranda,” you corrected smugly. “Come on, Donna, don't tell me you're jealous of her…”

“Jealous? No, of course I’m not,” I said suddenly, defending myself as best I could.

“You're very nervous, honey. Sit down and relax…” you whispered with a voice that pretended to be calm, with the same voice you put when I lost my mind, when I suffered my terrible crises.

That wasn't one of them. My anger wasn't irrational, it made sense.

“Y-You make me nervous, (Y/N),” I protested, shaking my head. “I understand you are devout and, well, I don't care, but you have to be clear about one thing, tesoro... Mother Miranda isn't here, but I am, do you understand?”

“You are selfish,” you hissed, looking away, something that made me blink in confusion. “Can't there be anyone else in my life but you?”

“Am I selfish for wanting my girl to pay some attention to me?” I asked, gritting my teeth.

“I pay you attention, Donna, all you want,” you said, drinking your coffee calmly. “But the Gods don't tolerate blasphemy and I remain faithful to them, as well as to Mother Miranda.”

“Yes, but...” I said confused, starting to lose that argument.

“No, Donna, respect my beliefs, okay?” you demanded with a cold look.

I growled, crossing my arms and shaking my head.

“I'm sorry,” I said after a few minutes of tense silence. “I didn't mean to offend your beliefs, (Y/N).”

“That's much better, darling… Come here, come,” you said with a tender smile, indicating me to come closer and softly kissing my lips. “You know I love you, right?”

Do you love her too? That's what I would have liked to say, but I didn't want to.

“I love you too,” I whispered back, caressing her cheek, a gesture that made you blush again. “Fine, I'll look for a portrait of Mir… Of Mother Miranda…”

“Great, great,” you said excitedly jumping for joy and kissing me again. “Thank you, my love… I'm going to pick this up.”

A nasty laugh reached my ears as you disappeared down the elevator hallway.

“Silly Donna,” Angie mocked, pretending to writhe in laughter on the floor.

“That was your fault,” I hissed, kicking the floor furiously, a fury I couldn’t use against you, I never could.

“Mine? Liar,” the doll protested.

“Ugh,” I growled, with a furious look. “You made me think such horrible things, Angie.”

“Horrible things? Oh, right, you mean that the silly girl prefers Miranda over you…” she said in a sinister tone I tried to ignore.

“That’s not true,” I said to myself, running a hand over my forehead. I needed to relax.

“No? Tell me, Donna, where are you going to put Miranda's portrait, on the bedside table? Yes, yes, that's the best place,” the doll mocked, straining my patience even more. “I'm sure (Y/N) will let you fuck her while she looks at her in admiration…”

“Angie!” I screamed furiously, scaring the doll, who ran away laughing. “Ugh, cazzo… vaffanculo!” I shouted, walking towards the elevator, heading to forget that horrible morning with my dolls, the best I could do.

“Who's the rude one now?”

I never really saw your devotion as something wrong. I met you in church. I knew how faithful you were to Mother Miranda and the Gods.

That was part of your personality. That blind and obsessive faith was part of you, it was something I couldn't take away from you and, honestly, I never saw the need to do so. Every night we spent together, you prayed, you prayed before sleeping, before eating, before… Well, before doing anything.

I even thought it was adorable. After all, Mother Miranda created me.

Every night I saw your devotion expressed in your words, gratitude for being with me, and that relieved me. It could just be a phase, a habit you had when you lived in the village, but over time I realized that it wasn’t like that.

Being faithful to Miranda was fine, it saved me trouble. It saved me from having to protect you more than necessary. You were the perfect villager to the priestess, a brainless zombie who would never question her decisions, or mine.

Again, my older sister's words stirred my conscience. Alcina was probably the most faithful to Miranda, too faithful. I always thought there was something more behind that servitude, something that perhaps resembled what I felt for you.

But that wasn’t important. Alcina's and Moreau's devotion to Miranda was almost as sick as yours, but with one big difference.

I have always wondered what was in the heads of the castle's maids, if any of them had such devotion to the leader of the village.

For me it was impossible to know. I never spoke to them and I rejected Alcina's offer to use them many times.

In their eyes, in their helpful glances, I always saw the devotion that was somewhat similar to yours, but at the same time quite different. They didn’t pray to Mother Miranda, their Gods were not the Black Gods. Their only deity, the only thing those girls cared about was Alcina.

They lived for her, they would give their lives for her, they worshipped her. I would even dare to say they prayed to her. What I had previously seen as a horrible and disturbing thought began to sound better and better in my head.

For the maids Alcina was their Goddess, for you, your only Goddess was Mother Miranda.

Envy began to make me dizzy. It's not that I wanted to be like my sister, I could never be like her but... While I tried to distract myself with my dolls, the images passed over and over again in my mind.

“Damn it...” I muttered, dressing an inert porcelain body.

I began to imagine what it would be like if you were my faithful devotee, the things you would say to me, do to me, how you would behave if I were something more like Miranda to you. At first they were innocent images, but the darkness of my conscience made me turn away from those simple thoughts in which you only changed by ceasing to pray every night, every hour.

No, that wasn’t enough to calm my soul. Alcina wasn’t a boring woman, she played with her faithful servants; they worshipped her in a carnal way. They knelt before her, just as you did with Miranda.

I imagined you doing the same, worshipping me, praying to me, making me feel like your Goddess, forcing you to kneel before me, to dispose of your body when I, your Goddess, wanted it, in the way I wanted. Dark thoughts, yes, but they sent shivers through my body.

Claiming my superiority over the village vermin wasn’t difficult for me, but… Trying to make you look at me the way you did with Miranda… That would be more complicated.

Lust interrupted my fears, sending me images of you kneeling, caressing me with a smile while your tongue acted divinely, worshipping my body, wanting it inside yours.

Pulling your hair, forcing you to kiss my penis, to worship it as part of my divinity… It deviated from my true concerns, causing my body to act accordingly.

“Oh…” I sighed as the heat began to overwhelm me, as my hand gently passed over my sudden erection, forming a bulge in the black fabric of my dress.

I needed to take you, and I needed it right then.

“Angie,” I whispered to the doll, who was playing distractedly, fortunately oblivious to the excitement of my body. “G-Go call (Y/N), will you?”

“What for?” the puppet questioned.

“Just do it,” I said in a soft tone, stimulating my body discreetly, enjoying the touch of my own hands motivated by my dark thoughts.

“Oh, again…” the doll sighed, stopping just before leaving through the doors. “Wait, (Y/N) isn't here…”

“What? She's not here? Where is she?” I asked nervously.

“Look at the clock, silly Donna, (Y/N) has gone to mass,” Angie said, making me look at the same place, closing my eye when I realized she was right.

Again, Miranda stood between you and me, preventing me from taking you as I would like. My thoughts were becoming more and more dangerous.

“Okay, okay, go away, Angie,” I said, waving my hand for her to leave.

“But…”

“Go away…” I hissed, making the doll shrug and leave the workshop grumbling.

Loneliness wasn't so bad after all. My imagination was playing tricks on me, my body was screaming to be released, but not in the usual way. Lust was asking me to dominate you, it was asking me to see you on your knees, to hear you say how much you adored me.

Surely those obscene thoughts would be part of my excitement and it would pass soon. I could think of many ways to fulfill my desire, to make you mine and only mine but… I knew that wasn't possible. I swore to myself that I would never do anything without your permission, that I wouldn't let the darkness ruin an act as beautiful as making love.

Taking advantage of the fact that you were with your Goddess, I decided to take the liberty of freely fantasizing about that idea of being adored, releasing my terribly excited shaft and starting to caress it while your voice whispered things in my mind.

Mm, you are certainly a Goddess, Donna… My only Goddess… Let me worship you as you deserve…

I’m yours, only yours, let me kneel before you, let my mouth worship you, my love…

Do you like me to touch myself for you, my Goddess? Look how wet I am, do I have to pray for you to take me here and now, or do I have to confess my sins? It's so hard… You are divine, Donna…

Those fantasy voices made me want to stop, not to forget that lustful act with myself, but to enjoy it even more.

Before I met you I used to masturbate often. I didn't do it because I really felt like it. I always saw it as an inevitable need. Yes, I enjoyed releasing myself imagining brief encounters with one of the maids, even sometimes, just sometimes, I wanted to pick up the phone, call my sister, and use one of them.

But it was something temporary. My body's need was different from pleasure. No matter how hard I try, I can't remember a stimulation as pleasurable as that.

My hand moved slowly. I closed my eye to see you better, to imagine that it was your hand and not mine. Envy, jealousy... I didn't really care about the reasons for my behavior. I only cared about making it seem as real as possible.

The idea of it being a wet fantasy distracted me, but the pleasure of my stimulation was much greater, making me speed up, enjoying every movement while I moaned in a whisper, saying rude things that, even if you were in front of me, you wouldn't be able to understand.

There came a moment when my own movements got out of control, when the pleasure of imagining you being my devotee devoured the calm with which I caressed myself.

“Cazzo…” I protested, shrinking into myself, quickly looking for a nearby napkin before I released. It was a too pleasurable release.

The napkin shone with my lust and I could only think of one thing… How it would look inside you…

As I cleaned myself in the sink my conscience navigated confusedly. Somehow I thought of you in a dark way, in a sudden way. That wasn't you, you weren't kneeling in front of me, you never would be.

Should I regret having transformed you into someone else while I touched myself? Could it be considered cheating? Have I done something wrong? Did you?

The logic I had left told me I should. The darkness had consumed me. The jealousy had gone too far, but… In a strange way, I couldn’t feel bad about it.

Maybe, deep down, that’s what I wanted.

Of course, I never mentioned what I did. It was just a moment of nervous lust, of possessive madness.

Our life continued as always, even little by little, I got used to the portrait of Miranda you made me look for. Every time I passed by her, I got chills, I thought about what you would do to her if she were there, what things you would be capable of doing for her, for your Goddess.

I wanted to get away from those thoughts, from those dark impulses, but I couldn't do it. Every night, as always, you continued praying, praising your deities, leaving me aside, abandoned during those minutes, those in which I believed I wasn’t the most important thing in your life.

Your prayers slipped through my ears, I stopped understanding them, hearing them. I could only hear the voices in my head. I could only imagine you in front of me, saying my name instead of Miranda's.

The tension passed through my mind, penetrating my body, my words. You knew something was wrong with me, but you didn't dare to ask.

What would you think of me if I told you that I wanted to be your Goddess?

I didn't know and it terrified me but... What really scared me was the loss of that logical thought, the constant imagination that disturbed and dirty my mind. I was scared, but of myself, because, as time went by, I began to stop wondering what you would say, what reaction you would have.

I didn't care anymore, my conscience stopped controlling my dark thoughts and that was dangerous, very dangerous...

“Mm, let's see... I also want to thank you for...” your voice sounded almost inaudible to me, like every night, you prayed tirelessly while I unbuttoned the top of my dress.

At least you no longer forced me to pray with you.

“I want to thank you for granting me the undeserved gift of being able to be with Donna,” you prayed whispering, kneeling in front of the bed.

Those words took me out of my internal struggle against darkness, forcing me to look at you with a tender smile, even though you couldn't see me.

“You saved her, Mother Miranda, making me the happiest girl in the village, allowing me to get to know her, to discover the wonderful woman she is.”

As I continued with the buttons, I laughed shyly, blushing, getting up to be a little closer, sitting next to you and lifting your chin.

“Bellisima…” I whispered affectionately as your eyes opened, the smile had returned to your face, but, delicately, you moved my hand away from it.

“Shh, wait, Donna, I'm not done yet,” you said whispering, as if the Gods or Miranda were able to hear you

I nodded calmly, without getting up, looking at you with the devotion I wanted for myself.

Were you my Goddess?

After you flattered me in your prayers, your words deviated from that pleasant path, starting to pray for the villagers, for my siblings, for every living being that diverted your attention from me.

Normally you didn't take that long, and it started to make me nervous.

Nerves could be controlled in a normal person, but I wasn't a normal person. I was sick, my mind was damaged and there were many reasons why I couldn't control myself. Logical or illogical reasons, my mind made no distinctions.

Your words stopped relaxing me, your voice began to sound unpleasant, my fists grabbed the sheets to contain that rage, that madness with which, surely those stupid Gods, cursed me at birth.

“(Y/N),” I said in a whisper, putting a hand on your shoulder, one that you slowly removed. “Hey, tesoro…”

“Wait a minute, Donna, why are you so impatient?” you said with disgust, moving away from me.

I had been putting up with that contempt for too long.

“Shut up!” I shouted nervously, getting up from the bed with a grunt. “Stop praying!”

“What's wrong with you?” you asked, getting up from the floor and rubbing your knees. “Have you gone crazy?”

“Yes, yes, you're driving me crazy, (Y/N),” I hissed, pointing at her with my finger. “I've tried to ignore it, I really have,” I said, approaching you in a threatening, dangerous way.

“Let's see…” you sighed, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms. I hate when you do that, honey, I hate when you take me for a stupid crazy woman. I, am, your Goddess. “What's got into you now?”

“Don't treat me like a fool…” I hissed again, getting even closer, grabbing the collar of her dress roughly. “I'm not a fool…”

“You look like it, Donna, come on, be a good girl, let me go, you're going to spoil my dress,” you said, struggling with my grip.

Your scared eyes are my weakness. I couldn't help but obey you immediately.

“I'm sorry,” I murmured, smoothing your dress again, being able to regret having done it. “No, I'm not sorry.”

“What?” you asked frowning. “Donna…” you growled.

“I'm sick of putting up with this, (Y/N) of you humiliating me like that,” I said, threatening again, but keeping my hands off your clothes.

“No one is humiliating you, Donna, it's all your imagination,” you said in a slightly softer tone, bringing a trembling hand to my cheek. “Shh, darling... My love...”

“How can you say that?” I asked nervously again, pushing your hand away with a sharp blow. “Are you laughing at me? You think that by saying nice things to me you can fix everything, right?”

“I don't even know what's wrong with you,” you sighed desperately, stepping back, scared.

Gods are feared, right?

“If you like Mother Miranda that much... Go ahead, go with her, let her do all the things I do to you, I'm sure that's what you're wishing for,” I whispered, looking away, feeling a cold breeze on my body.

My blouse was unbuttoned, but what I really felt was the coldness of my heart.

“Of course…” you said with a sufficient smile, snorting with a mocking gesture. “Forget about your stupid jealousy. I've told you a thousand times that the devotion I feel for her has nothing to do with what I feel for you.”

“Devotion…” I sighed, looking at the ceiling, controlling my anger and my carnal desires as much as I could. “Devotion?! She doesn't deserve your devotion!”

“Who says that? You?” you answered, apparently calm. “I can't believe you think that way about the woman who made you the way you are now, who named you Lord, her daughter… Donna, don't you understand that I adore Mother Miranda? Don't you understand everything she's done for us? For me?”

“For you? What has Miranda done for you, huh?” I asked in a more dangerous tone, grabbing you by the shoulders with a look that wanted to be scary, but was pathetic.

I was lost.

“I'm the only one who takes care of you! I'm the one who allows you not to work because you live with my money! I'm the one who puts a fucking plate on the table every day! I'm the only one who loves you, who treats you the way you deserve! It's me, (Y/N), do you understand? Me!”

“Donna,” you sighed, moving away from my hold with a strange, thoughtful look. “Honey, you never talk like that…”

“I'm sick of you thinking Miranda is your Goddess… Sick, do you hear me? She has no right to be idolized, to be prayed to! The only one you should be praying to is… Me!” I finally shouted, making my voice echo off the old walls, making an uncomfortable silence fall on our shoulders.

“Donna…” you murmured after a few terrible moments, guiding your hand to my cheek, wiping away a tear that came out due to my anger, due to my irrational fury. “Gods… Y-You’re right…”

“Cosa?” I asked, shaking my head. I thought my ears were betraying me, but that didn’t seem to be true. “W-What…?”

“It's true... You, you've done so many things for me...” you sighed with a relaxed smile, getting closer to me. “Forgive me, Donna, I didn't want you to think that Mother Miranda is better,”

“Um, yes... Okay,” I said confused, looking away, but enjoying your caresses.

The darkness which had me trapped wandered freely through my mind, my eye traveled over your body.

“I promise I'll pray less, okay?” you said with a sweet voice.

My gaze hardened, letting the shadows control it, controlling the hand that grabbed your hair tightly without hurting you, or so I like to think.

“Uh, hey...” you said laughing at my abrupt attitude, at the way my nails dug into your waist as I dragged you towards me.

“I don't want you to pray less, (Y/N),” I whispered, getting close to your ear, sinking my teeth into your skin, pulling your head so your neck was exposed. “I want you to pray… To me…”

“What…? What do you mean?” you asked with a broken tone, nervous because of the tickling of my lips on your skin, because of the strength of my hand tangled in your hair.

My demons sketched a smile on my face and my mind saw that forbidden, repressed dream getting closer and closer.

“On your knees,” I whispered with a cold voice, with a proud, cocky one, typical of the Goddess that I was, of the Goddess that I wanted to be for you. “Get on your knees!” I shouted when your gaze remained confused and your head moved from side to side.

You screamed, but not in an unpleasant way. I helped your body to go down to the desired place, at my feet, on your knees before me, where you had to be.

“Okay…” you sighed, arching your eyebrows, biting your lip.

Did you know what was going to happen? I doubt it.

“Worship me, (Y/N), show me your words are sincere, that I am your only Goddess,” I ordered you, pulling your head so your lips rested on my skin and began to kiss it.

You obeyed like a good girl, without complaint, panting from the impression, but comfortable with the situation. That only made me want you more.

Your kisses were soft, hot but demure, as if you were really kissing something sacred. I enjoyed the vision of having you worshiping me, of being able to feel all the things I imagined every night. It was much more incredible than I thought, much more.

“Pray,” I said softly, with a gentle tug on your hair. I wanted to feel your lips moving on my skin, I wanted to feel the vibrations of your praises on my belly, close, very close to me.

“Great ones…” you began with a nervous voice, not letting your kisses cool my desire, running your tongue over my skin.

“No, not that one, silly,” I said amused, pushing you away from my body. “I want you to pray to me, come on…”

“I don't know any prayers…” you said nervously but with an anxious gleam in your eyes, one that made my evil smile widen.

“Then use your mouth for something useful…” I whispered, bending down to kiss you briefly, to pull your lower lip with desire, but not letting you enjoy it.

Oh, (Y/N) that night wouldn't be for you. That night was only for me.

You nodded, with the look I was looking for so many times while you were praying… My hand went through the black fabric of my skirt, running over the bulge that had already formed on it, caressing it, watching your reaction, how your body trembled when you saw it.

“Do you want it, (Y/N)?” I asked, playing, grabbing my shaft over the fabric, showing you how you made me feel and how I liked being your Goddess…

You nodded again, scratching my legs, letting me see for myself how much that situation excited you.

“Beg me, (Y/N),” I hissed, bringing you closer to my hidden erection, making you feel desperate to reach it, to give me the pleasure I deserved. “Ask me to let you worship me…”

“Please, Donna…” you whispered, kissing me over the dress. Something I didn't ask you for, but I couldn't deny you. The warmth of your lips was all I needed.

“Donna? Wrong, tesoro…” I laughed amused, pulling your hair in reprimand. “I’m your Goddess, (Y/N), don't forget that…”

“M-My Goddess, please let me worship you… Let me…praise you…” you whispered, bringing your mischievous hands to the edge of my skirt.

I moaned in satisfaction, controlling my own desire. That was what I wanted. What do you think, Miranda? She'll never do that to you…

Happy to please you, I released my erection, being quickly caressed by your lips, watched by your eyes, which this time didn't seem to want to close. Your mouth approached slowly, but you knew you couldn't play with me, you shouldn't.

Your tongue ran slowly over my skin, making me moan embarrassingly and your hand joined in the fun when I was completely inside your mouth.

“Così buono…” I gasped, daring to close my eye, to control your head with my hand while your mouth embraced me intensely, while your tongue played with the tip, making my legs tremble.

I didn't want to seem weak, and I scolded you with a tug on your hair. None of that seemed to make you stop.

“You're so perfect, Donna…” you whispered, calling my attention. My hips played on their own, moving to adapt to your kisses, to your playful tongue taking me to the edge. “I've been stupid… You're my only Goddess…”

“Don't forget it, tesoro…” I said calmer, moaning when your movements continued, when your mouth embraced my erection, sucking it slowly while your hand moved it at will.

“She'll never love you like I do, do you understand?” I asked, trying to distract myself, with the darkness coming back to torment me again. “She would never let… Cazzo…”

“I know, my love… I know,” you whispered, tickling my skin, resuming your kisses, trying to keep up with the increasingly frenetic rhythm of my hips.

“Okay, that's enough,” I said suddenly, on the verge of my release.

No, (Y/N), it wasn't going to end there. Your face covered with me wasn't enough at that moment. I needed something else. I needed to possess you forever, to take you by my grace, by the glory of the one who would always be your Goddess. Me, only me.

“You are delicious…” you whispered with a wet moan. “I want to release you, my Goddess, I want to taste you.”

“You ask for too much, tesoro… I'm not a merciful Goddess…” I said amused, lifting you up roughly and pushing you against the bed.

You moaned in surprise at my roughness, but my hands kept you from turning around. You had no right to look at me. I wasn't going to let you do that.

Without waiting for a response or any protest, I lifted your dress and pulled down your underwear while spanking you, making you squirm. That was just what I had imagined.

“Che bagnata sei…” I whispered in your ear, leaning over you as my fingers ran through your wet folds. Your words could lie, but your body couldn’t. It adored me, needed me…

Without the gentleness with which I usually took you, I introduced my erection inside of you. Your walls were overwhelmed at first and your mouth emitted a moan of pain that I ignored.

“So… big…” you murmured with a moan that bathed my ears, that gave me the silent permission I needed to continue, to move without asking and for your tight entrance to hold me tightly, to worship me…

“Everything I do, I do it for you, amore mio… You, just have to… Remember… Who you belong to…” I moaned at the same time as my hips moved carelessly.

“Gods Donna, you, only to you,” you moaned when your body began to move on its own as well, joining the thrusts of my hips.

My hands scratched your skin, marking it as theirs forever. There would never be anyone else in your life, only me. You would pray to me, you would worship me, only I would exist in your life. You would be much more than my maid. You would be mine, forever.

Spilling my seed inside you was much more pleasurable than other times. It was a sign, an explosion of unmatched pleasure, an act of darkness and passion, a fierce desire to be part of you, for you to always have me.

“Oh, Donna…” you said, catching your breath, moving, making the wet mixture of your entrance slide down your legs, becoming the most beautiful vision of my life.

“I don't want to hear you pray to anyone but me, do you understand?”

#donna beneviento #donna beneviento x reader #oneshot #re8 donna #re8 village #requests

91 notes · View notes

mellowmin · 2 years ago

Text

Walk him like a dog sis

Disclaimer: this is only MY PERSONAL OPINION and my own takes on these characters, please do not interact if you don't like or agree with this 💜

Inspired by the tiktok sound and some of the videos I saw on there 🤭

Content warnings: toxic relationship dynamics on some of these, very girlboss-ish hc's, ooc in the last one (just a what if scenario), mentions of mommy kink, masochistic traits & praise kink. Also last group has a very prominent "men are disposable" mindset/subtext, not to be taken literally or seriously at all.

Fem reader implied all throughout.

MDNI

𑁍 Trained puppies:

Will happily follow you around, grabbing onto you by your sleeve, the back of your shirt or your belt loop.

Wide eyes look at you like you hung the moon and the stars, will not hesitate to jump from their seat to get you anything you need, though they will at times use the puppy eyes to their advantage and it's very hard to say no to them.

Mommy issues? Maybe? Mommy kink at the very least lol, also praise kink. Baby them!! They love that shit and will eat up any attention from you.

When you're at a party, you'll pull them to you by their tie and they'll absolutely melt while letting you guide them to the dance floor like you have them on a leash.

The type to send you pictures of any cute or pretty thing they find because any sort of beauty makes them think of you.

Super needy, they'll wait in bed fighting off the sleep until you finish your skincare routine because they can't sleep well without you :(. Textbook definition of puppy love, they have eyes only for you and will hate to be separated from you for ANY amount of time. - Hinata Shoyo, Goshiki Tsutomu, Yamaguchi Tadashi, Azumane Asahi, Bokuto Kotarou, Nishinoya Yuu, Midoriya Izuku, Kirishima Eijirou, Kaminari Denki, Togata Mirio.

𑁍 Guard dogs:

They spoil you like crazy, princess treatment is real when you're with them.

The type to kneel in front of you and untie your shoes while looking up at you like you're doing them a favor for letting them. When I say these men WORSHIP YOU I mean it.

Super protective, they know and live by the sidewalk rule; and lord have mercy on the poor soul if they think someone is bothering you. WILL NOT TOLERATE anyone talking shit about you in any way. Also "dress however you want, I can fight".

As soon as they get the slightest suspicion that your feet hurt you are up on their arms. Don't even think about carrying anything heavier than your phone. Consider them your personal handbag. Will spoon feed you if you allow them too, gently dabbing your face with a napkin after every other bite.

They refuse to let you pay for anything, as soon as the cashier asks 'cash or credit?' They're rushing to get their wallet out. They sometimes will give you their credit card and ORDER you to buy anything you want.

WOULD absolutely carry you on their shoulders the whole day if they could, but they need to work to earn the money to keep giving you the life you deserve :')

You know those kinda cringe videos that go "my hands look like this so that hers can look like this"?? Yeah that's them lol - Iwaizumi Hajime, Kuroo Tetsurou, Miya Atsumu, Ushijima Wakatoshi, Sawamura Daichi, Ukai Keishin, Tanaka Ryuunosuke, Bakugo Katsuki, Todoroki Shouto, Iida Tenya, also Kirishima lol.

𑁍 Bratty Lap dogs:

Stink eyes to anyone that tries to approach either of you. They're not interested in anyone else and they'd rather die than stand by and let someone steal your attention from them.

Their favorite activity is to cuddle you and snack and they WILL voice their displeasure if your little sessions are interrupted. Will stay hours with their head buried in your neck if you let them. Will leave hickeys on you if you're not careful enough!! They'll do it in places that you won't easily see but others will see clearly too.

They're super needy and sometimes have a hard time understanding your need for personal space like wym we can't go to the bathroom together 🤨. On that note, you never have to ask them to come with you anywhere, as soon as you grab your keys they're putting their shoes on. They never give you that "u can come if u want" bullshit, they let you know that if you're not going, they aren't going.

Talk shit about anyone that you don't like to them, they act like they don't care but they love the gossip and will say things to keep you talking. They trust your gut and your criteria for liking or not liking people; if you tell them you don't like someone you don't even have to give them a reason, they'll drop that person in a second.

They will tease you and clown you anytime they have the chance, but it's like they forget they're the biggest simp ever lol. Try to give them the silent treatment, they won't last longer than 6 hours.

Will check your friends if they seem disloyal. As soon as they get sent a 'hiiii :)" from one of your friends, they're warning you about them. They will encourage you to cut off toxic people from your life, whether it's friends or family but they'll never force you to stop talking to someone on their account.

They will support you in ANYTHING, they're your ride or die and they will defend you until they die no matter what you do. "Oh, (y/n) killed someone? Well I'm sure that person did something to deserve it." They will make a fool of themselves to protect your honor lol.

- Sakusa Kiyoomi, Oikawa Tooru, Miya Osamu, Suna Rintarou, Tendou Satori, Tsukishima Kei, Sugawara Koushi, Kozume Kenma, Kageyama Tobio, Shinsou Hitoshi, Monona Neito, Sero Hanta, Aizawa Shouta, Takami Keigo.

BONUS:

𑁍 Domesticated Hound dogs:

Heavily toxic relationship dynamics, unrealistic representation of a fuckboy, kinda mean reader.

Former fuckboy turned into a begging mess by the bad bitch he shouldn't have messed with.

He tried to play it cocky from the start and play you like all the girls before you, but you knew his game and played him like a fiddle.

When several girls messaged you to warn you about your new boytoy -the man paying for your groceries every week in hopes that you'll give him two hours of your weekend- you knew that you were given a chance by the heavens to do some good karmic work, for every girl whose heart he played with, you'll make him your bitch. Every time you leave him on read is a win for the girls.

At first, he thought you were just playing hard to get and considered you a 'fun challenge' but soon enough he's only answering your texts, all other girl's numbers are forgotten and he finds that hooking up with random girls only makes him think about you more. He found himself becoming more vulnerable when talking to you, actually sharing parts of him in an honest way instead of doing it in order to get sympathy points from you.

This man used to be a professional at ghosting and you got him answering your texts in 0.5 SECONDS. In the beginning he was all like "im not looking for anything serious tho lol" and you were like "yeah I could tell, not like you'd be good for anything serious lol" LMAO HES LEFT STARING AT HIS PHONE FOR 7 MINUTES STRAIGHT AFTER THAT.

Like YES BE MEAN TO HIM. He's gotta be a masochist; every time he gets a mean response (or no response at all) he becomes more desperate for having you praise him and coddle him like all the other girls used to do in order to keep him to themselves.

Lmfao meeting you was a humbling experience, you got him getting into his car at 2 am to see you for 15 minutes as long as he pays for your next nail appointment. You are true poetic justice coming into his life to ruin his bad boy persona.

At some point he tries to get cocky again and acts like he's back to his old ways, but you drop him so fast and so coldly that he gets whiplash. You show this man that you won't hesitate to dump the trash if he doesn't make something good of himself. You teach him really fast that you won't deal with his nonsense, and you WILL find him a replacement if he displeases you. The withdrawal he gets from you giving him radio silence is insane.

In the end though, you end up whipping him into a decent man and dare I say a good boyfriend who by this point is absolutely addicted to you. - Oikawa Tooru, Suna Rintarou, Miya Atsumu, Togata Mirio, Monoma Neito, Shinsou Hitoshi, Sero Hanta, Takami Keigo.

Comment or add in tags if you want me to add any characters! I probably missed a lot lol.

Comments and reblogs are appreciated!

mellowmin - do not repost

354 notes · View notes

lemon-natalia · 7 months ago

Text

Harrow the Ninth Reaction - Chapter 52

Augustine & Mercy are having a very intense convo about how they just murdered GOD and are dooming themselves, and Gideon 1.0, Gideon 2: Electric Boogaloo, and Ianthe are just … standing there

oh shit and Dominicus is gonna die and become a black hole? i mean given there’s a whole other book not sure where this is gonna go, maybe he was lying to everyone about that as well?

when Ianthe of all people is the one advocating to try and save people out of the goodness of her heart, you know you’re fucked

‘Well, Augustine, there’s something you should know’ could someone please say something in this series that isn’t ridiculously cryptic. also i totally forgot this guy was wearing Gid’s sunglasses the whole time lol

OH WAIT THE BITCH IS BACK. i knew it was too good to be true

also YIKES poor Mercy, she was not my favourite character but god she did not deserve that

also ah. hm. the above comment did not age well

oh this guys whole persona has just shifted. He’s still got that kinda irreverent jokiness & affability but he’s also evidently very pissed off, a lot less ‘lets have tea’ and more ‘do what i say or get fucked’

'then he looked at us, gave a crooked half smile’ ohhhh he has the same. fucking. crooked smile. that Gideon has in the BARI-star dream what the fuck

and he WAS the one who ordered Gideon-Part-1 to kill Harrow, for fucks sake. at least Harrow had Ortus be nice to her briefly cuz she’s three for three on her other parental figures trying to kill her at some point

Gideon found out her bio dad is GOD, saw him die, saw him come back to live naked, and now found out he tried to kill her (kinda maybe its complicated) girlfriend. thats just ... so many different levels of traumatising

also i keep forgetting Gideon is literally looking like Harrow for all of this

GIDEON 1.0 ISN’T GIDEON, ITS PYRRHA DVE HIS CAV?!?!? yknow what so much else is going on rn i barely have the capacity to process that

and she was also sleeping with Commander Wake, was everyone just fucking eachother????? and i thought the love quadrangle in the last book was complicated. i’m guessing she shot Wake to stop her from potentially revealing the whole ‘i’m actually alive’ thing to the Emperor then?

also wow there’s a lot of consent issues being raised in the last couple chapters and this one, not just with dios apate major, but also like … you’re having sex with someone while possessing someone else’s body without their knowledge, but also also its the only body you have because they (presumably) killed you to absorb your soul. like what.

the drama and vast existential horror of this scene is only mildly undercut by the fact that the Emperor is having this crazy fight wearing only what is essentially an opalescent bathrobe

also why are there fucking TEETH at the bottom of the River? and Tongues?? and it thinks he’s a Resurrection Beast? i feel like there’s so much more to the River that we haven’t uncovered yet

and Augustine wasn’t wrong with what he said wayy before, the Emperor really did grant him more leniency than he did Mercy, at least he gave him a chance before murdering him

also cmon Ianthe you’re really gonna save that guy, really?

'Hands pressed. We died’ AGAIN?? i mean at least this time there’s a chance for her to come back given she’s done it once before?? also i do not know what to make of her seeing Alecto before she dies at all

#lemon natalia reads the locked tomb #tlt #the locked tomb #the locked tomb liveblog #harrow the ninth

46 notes · View notes

another-delta-lover · 5 months ago

Text

Can someone draw me dressed as medic lookin at heavy like that and heavy saying "I'm not calling you "little flower". That was the worst uber ever."

I'm too busy with drawin requests so please have mercy and spare some doodles for my poor lil overworked soul

#deltas yappin #deltas men obssesion #tf2 #tf2 heavy #tf2 medic #HeavyMedic #←BECAUSE I SAY SO #The Flower N The Bear

24 notes · View notes

sunshines-child · 4 months ago

Note

*spins dramatically in chair* god im so tired. sunny ur children have taken over my prefrontal cortex its not funny anymore.

partner in crime - madilyn mei: screams luc to me thinking of his little dove, but also from theos angsty teen perspective. the song fits them both almost like a back and forth conversation (i might make a post actually this is genius lmao). actually now that i think of it it fits u too lol (it has that vintage circus vibe if u will)

why good people become monsters: video essay of sorts exploring the lucifer effect (nuff said lol), but i recommend reading the comments for more insight and perspective. the art and presentation is slightly unsettling and i love it.

random quotes i from the top of my desktop notes: (long read sorry)

"he had all his mother's vivid imagination and passionate love of beauty. Frost of winter, invitation of spring, dream of summer and glamour of autumn, all meant much to Walter." - rainbow valley, l.m montgomery

-> luc and mercy change my mind (u cant hehe)

He said: “Only God can Judge a monster like that… I just set up the appointment”

-> my boi armund snaps (and snaps someones neck oop-)

“hell is empty, all the devils are here” - the tempest, shakespeare

-> this is definately written somewhere on altis lol

… as John [Lennon] told Rolling Stone magazine in 1970, “When it gets down to it, when you’re drowning, you don’t say, ‘I would be incredibly pleased if someone would have the foresight to notice me drowning and come and help me,’ you just scream.”

-> theo fighting his demons and losing :') eventually leading to some fall out with daddy dearest.

"It brings me so much joy to watch someone else get staggered by the full range of human degeneracy. We really do be wildin." - a yt comment lol

->i like to think that while both luc and altis kill in cold blood, for titi its another day job or whatever but for luc he thinks a lot about life and death and morality and corruption and thats what leads him to insanity later on.

classic case of living long enough to see urself as the villain but also a favourite trope of mine where people join the dark side for the cookies out of deep empathy for the wronged victims as opposed to say the violence and injustices they themselves may have experienced.

but also post armunds death luc lets all hell loose because how *dare* anyone lay a finger on his beloved boy?! the angst potential my dear is frankly off the charts and i love them all so much it hurts

anyhows this is for fun & i wanted to share some pebbles with ya

i couldnt resist >:D

I have not a single regret taking over your prefrontal cortex. ITS MINE NOW MWAHAHHAHAHAHA Partners in Crime by Madilyn Mei recognition YAYYYYYYY it’s so fit for their characters I’m in tears RAAAAAAAAAAAA Im not changing your mind you’re cooking. “he had all his mother's vivid imagination and passionate love of beauty. Frost of winter, invitation of spring, dream of summer and glamour of autumn, all meant much to Walter." You’re hurting me it’s so fucking beautiful oh my poor heart and soul he is the very bring of his mother, those calloused hands still flying, desperate to cling onto Mercy’s hands, still desperate to cling upon the hands of his mother who rested his head upon her breast. Armund doesn’t exactly ever…snap. His rage is there, and everyone knows it’s there. He’s the only one getting rid of his rage instead of bottling it down. He’s constantly shrouded by rage. “hell is empty the devils are here” is my knew favorite quote. I’m one of the devils LMAO also yes it is very much inked on Altis (probably his hip) Luc and Altis kill like all hell. And you’re very right on what they feel. Altis feels nothing. It’s just another thing he has to do. No rush, no nothing. He’s just… doing it. Luc in the other hand feels everything. Even when it’s someone he is killing more as a task, he’ll feel a rush of everything, all the thoughts, everything. He knows, oh he knows the mortality of everything, including his own soul. (Also he’s constantly bringing the edge of “what if I just died”. It’s. It’s worrying.) Luc. Luc BREAKS when Armund dies. He loves his son, but in the end there’s no tru nurture still left in it. His son turns away from him, and he draws back his hand and cries. And his little angel, his Armind is there, to give him a true taste of joy despite the life all of them live. And what happens to man without joy?

#my oc stuff #original character #luc corson #altis crown #theo corson #armund kilp

13 notes · View notes

honeybeezgobzzzzz · 1 year ago

Text

𓅨 Your Fate is Sealed With Mine: Chapter Thirty-Five

Your Fate is Sealed With Mine: Y/N Burgess is the granddaughter of Alex and Paul, and after having spent so many summers at their manor and always wondering why she was forbidden from entering the basement, she descends the steps into the world of the Order. She broke out the being that had been trapped in that glass cage, but what does he want with her now that he is free?

Warnings: The Fates Meddle in the Affairs of the Endless and His Bonded, Language, Reader Gets Scolded, More Exposition Heavy Plot (For Reader’s Sake/Development).

To Note: Morpheus/Dream x Female!GranddaughterReader, based on Netflix’s ‘The Sandman’, Reader now has long-ish hair for plot reasons (Just so Morpheus can tug on it later). Extra special thanks to my brand new beta reader! Hearts and kisses for you!

Word Count: ~2.1k

Previous | Masterlist | Next

You had been trying to come up with a way to deal with the Corinthian when you felt your soul get sucked from your body once more. Feeling like you were flying through dimensions, your stomach rolled in fear that you would end up, for a third time, at the mercy of Desire. But Desire’s realm was not the place you ended up, no, you ended up in a place you had never been before and had zero recollection of. Looking around, you noticed the crackling thunder and swift wind that seemed to come and go. You stepped forwards.

“This one’s a pretty one,” A woman said, appearing in front of you. You blinked in confusion and she was replaced with an older looking version.

“Yes, sister but this one is far more tenacious than those previously.” Your eyes went wide as the older woman was replaced by a middle aged one.

“You look exhausted, dear? Sleeping enough?” The middle-aged woman asked, your lips parted in confusion but she was replaced once more.

“Of course not!” The older one snapped out. “Not with Morpheus dragging her heart around!’

“You should rest, love,” It was the younger one again, what the bloody hell was going on!?

“Come now sisters, can’t you see we’re scaring the poor thing?” You baulked and shook your head.

“I’m not scared I just have no bloody idea what is going on or how I got here!” You exclaimed loudly, looking at the three woman lurking about. “The last time someone zapped my soul I ended up in Desire’s realm!”

“This one’s got fire,” The young one spoke with a smile.

“Clearly, who else would put up with Dream of the Endless?”

“We aren’t going to hurt you Y/N.”

“You’re quite interesting actually,” You pressed a hand into your forehead, already feeling a headache coming on from the constant switching.

“I do not wish to be rude, but will you please tell me who you are?” You questioned, looking between the three of them with a strained exhale.

“We’re the Kindly Ones, love,” The younger woman spoke, she was the Maiden. She was replaced with the Crone.

“We’ve been wanting to meet you for a very long time, Y/N Burgess.”

“For what purpose?” The Mother appeared with a gentle smile.

“You’re fate is bound of Dream of the Endless, dear, it is only natural to be curious about whom Morpheus chose. You do not disappoint.” The Maiden was back.

“Your future is quite unsteady, love, you’d better decide what you are going to do with your bonded.”

“Unsteady?” You repeated. “What do you mean by unsteady?”

“There is no set path for an Endless, Y/N Burgess, the possibilities are Endless.”

“I’m not an Endless,” You stated, your eyebrows pinching at the Crone.

“You are now, love.”

“Your future hangs in the balance as long as you question your bond with Morpheus.” They were being maddeningly unhelpful.

“Well Morpheus can’t make up his bloody mind about whether or not he actually likes being around me so—“

“You do not listen,” The Crone cut you off sharply. You pursed your lips together so you didn’t bite back. “Many have told you of his desire for you, of his yearning. Yet you still refuse to believe.”

“I’m not a bloody—“

“Hold your tongue, child,” The Mother tutted, her eyes flashing sternly. “You do not comprehend the depth of emotion which the Dream King possesses.”

“Then help me understand,” You softly uttered. “I cannot choose a set path if all I feel is confusion and hurt.”

“I hope you don’t have a jealous heart,” The Maiden spoke with a giggle, covering her mouth.

“Morpheus has taken a few lovers in his time.” The Crone added, her wise eyes staring at you intimidatingly. “You might not like what you see.”

“It is not for me to like or dislike,” You carefully responded, choosing your words decisively. “It is Morpheus’ past and if I am to understand him, I should learn all I can.”

“You might just settle your scales, dear,” The Mother spoke before stepping up to you. You watched her wearily as she took your face in hand. “Be not quick to judge.” She then leaned forward and pressed her lips against your forehead.

You closed your eyes as that sucking feeling ran through your body and rock disappeared underfoot. You were floating through space, looking around you at the glittering stars and looming planets. Then you were tugged into a dream. A woman with blue skin, snowy white hair, and who glowed with green fire, was standing in front of a figure you recognized all to well. It was Morpheus, you were sure of that, and when he called her by her name, Killala, with such gentleness and adoration,you felt your heart squeeze painfully in your chest. This must be Morpheus’s first lover, you were sure of it… the adoration and passion on his face was nothing you had ever seen before. Then the scene shifted and you saw Killala ultimately chose to embrace a glowing sun in a lover’s embrace.

The crushing heartbreak and depression emitting from Morpheus was breath stealing and made your body tremble, your knees weak. You were sucked away once more, spiraling around and flipping through space until you landed in an ancient city. It had the lodgings of a city in Africa, it’s architecture and sculpting reminiscent of pictures you had seen in University. The sun overhead beat down upon your body in an unrelenting fashion, you could feel perspiration gathering along your skin. Stepping forwards, the animal pelts you wore upon your body shifted with every step you took in exploration. Morpheus would be around here somewhere, surely. You felt a pull and followed it, weaving your way into the grand palace. You sandal covered feet barely made any sounds against the polished floor of the palace, and when you reached a highly decorated area.

You heard the sounds of moans and breathless sighs. You halted in step, did you really wanted to intrude on such an intimate moment? The subconscious urge to continue your path was all too much to refuse. Heart racing beneath your breast and adrenaline fueling your steps, you walked forwards until you were parallel to a room, out of the corner of your eyes you could see a very beautiful woman with rich dark skin. The man she was wrapped around had equally dark skin, but you could feel his very essence, his soul. That was Morpheus, once again caught up in the throes of love he always seemed to be without. This was not a side of Morpheus you had ever seen, or expected.

The palace faded to ruin, the native people long dead. Nada heartbroken, took her own life. What would Morpheus do now? He could not take a mortal lover without repercussion, but with Nada now in the netherworld, he was free to pursue her. Their confrontation was not what you expected. Morpheus wanted her to be his queen, his eternal lover within the Dreaming. Nada refused and the side of Morpheus you were more accustomed to emerged. He was enraged by her rejection after having such deep, emotional ties to her. Rejection was not something he was accustomed and it stung bitterly. You flinched when he cast Nada to hell, his cruelty just barely masking the agonizing pain you could feel ripping at his heart. He was genuinely devastated that she had refused him.

Your eyesight shifted once more, this time taking on a Grecian look. You didn’t even need to seek the pair out within the Parthenon to know that this was Morpheus’ muse lover: Calliope. The muse was drop dead gorgeous and even made you feel self conscious… but the way she looked at Morpheus, with such adoration and gentleness, you could hardly dislike her. She had an air of elegance that drew anyone in, even you were attracted to her beauty and light. Then you could feel a riff slowly forming between the married pair. It’s tipping point? The death of Orpheus, neither quite recovered from, let alone addressed the grief you knew they both felt. Well, the grief you were currently feeling from Morpheus had your knees bending and eyes watering. He had such strong love for his family, but that riff had entirely torn it apart to unrepairable pieces. You wept from the hurt and pain Morpheus had felt from losing his son.

Another shift, another lover, this one more fleeting then Calliope. A faerie queen and a narcissistic one at that. This affair ended the quickest and yet, you could still feel the sting of hurt that ate away at Morpheus’ brittle heart. By now your own heart felt like it was made of a crystal that was slowly breaking down, each lover chipping away at the softly beating glass.

The next one was a far more gentle soul, a woman by the name of Alianora, sent to aid Morpheus (by Desire of all people) in his quest to take back his realm from two ancient Gods. This time it wasn’t betrayal or death that separated him. Morpheus’ love for Alianora simply faded with time. But he hadn’t bid her farewell from his lands, no, he had created an island from which she could rule herself as long as she lived. From this memory, you learned how Morpheus’ creepy helm had been made, from the bones of the Gods Morpheus had defeated. A tad bit creepy but it certainly made a point when one saw it.

When you were torn from this world and found yourself standing in the familiar hall of the Dreaming’s palace, you knew that this was the last lover Morpheus would take. Thessaly, a witch who had lived for thousands of years. She could utilize any form of magic, including spells and charms, and even use powers from any belief system she chose to tap into. As the last of her people, she was a powerhouse. It was no wonder that Morpheus had been drawn to her. But the love was not entirely requited and upon parting ways, Morpheus had been crushed by the break up. You felt that pain, that hurt, and that sent you to your knees. But your knees didn’t hit the soft Dreaming grass, but hard rock of the realm of the Kindly Ones.

Gasping out from the physical pain in both your knees and heart, you caught yourself with your palms as the three woman looked down at you. Tears leaked from your red and watery eyes, falling to the cold stone below while your lips trembled. You felt everything, all of that emotional pain that Morpheus had gone through in his past relationships. The instability he felt within his relationships. The oppression of a love that was never bound to last. He had hurt so much and chose to remain emotionally closed off and stagnant. Afraid to love again because he would only lose it in the end. An agonizing cycle that always repeated and always gorged fresh wounds in his heart.

“Do you now understand, Y/N Burgess?” The Crone questioned. “Are you ready to seal your future, your fate, with the one you are bound to?”

Your eyes gradually lifted from the hard ground, fresh tears intermittently running off your chin. Looking into the Crone’s eyes, you faltered for words. You understood why Morpheus was the way he was, you understood that he felt so deeply, so passionately, that when his relationships ended he felt into a pit of despair. But to spend an eternity with an overly protective Morpheus who would rather have you locked up in the palace where you were guaranteed to be safe and always within reach should he need you? You couldn’t live like that, you refused to.

“No,” You told them, your eyes sparking silver. “You can show me all you want, Kindly Ones, I will not let anyone chose my future save for me.”

“You’ve got the spark of fire and life,” The Maiden said, appearing before you. “Perhaps you will be what he needs, or what will be his undoing.”

Your face started to harden, not likening the way the Maiden had worded her sentence, but you didn’t get the chance to respond before you were yanked away. Lurching upright with a gasp, you came face to face with the Corinthian who was looking at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Good ol’ Morpheus try to have a little chat?” He mused in question before offering his hand. You stared at the offered hand before grudgingly taking it with a snort.

“The Kindly Ones, actually,” You snipped back, allowing him to pull you to your feet. You reached up and felt your cheeks. They were dry, but that pulsating ache of heartbreak still lingered within your chest. “Now, don’t you have a speech to give?”

Date Published: 12/12/22

Last Edit: 8/20/23

Previous | Masterlist | Next

#dream the endless x reader #morpheus x reader #dream the endless #sandman x reader #dream of the endless #morpheus #the sandman #lord morpheus #the sandman netflix #dream of the endless x reader

43 notes · View notes