Warning: MDNI!, MATURE THEME, MENTION OF NON-CONSENT, SLIGHT SMUT.
Imagine, your sister MC had befriended an otherworldly, but not just any ordinary 'friend' but a merman.
Imagine, your surprise and fear upon learning she was not joking when she confessed to you about a half man half fish who claims to be the god of the seas. You laugh it off at first but when she brought you to the secret cave that she's been visiting her ‘dear friend’ for some time now and the revelation of said friend to be actually a mermaid…merman?, at this point you were at a loss.
Imagine, you made a promise to your sister not to tell anyone, not even your parents, knowing their temperament and character, they would immediately jump at the opportunity if they discovered her friend. Such scumbags they were honestly. You were not about to ruin that happiness of the young girl who has ever taught you real love.
Imagine, the secret has been on for years until your sister, MC, has come of age at 18. Still the ever innocent and optimistic girl she is. To you who has accompanied her to the secret cave, your wish for her was safety and health. Despite befriending an otherworldly creature and not really on good terms with it, for MC, you would do anything just to make her happy.
Imagine, one day MC became sick and she begged you to visit ‘Rafayel’, the lonely fish, to play and accompany him while she recuperates. Despite your dislike towards him, you cannot help but nod at your sister's request.
“You don't have to be afraid of him (non-mc), he's friendly.” MC smiled weakly as she held your hand with a gentle caress.
‘Friendly my arse, if I had not known any better, I would also be fooled by those puppy dog eyes…’ you thought deeply as you gestured back at her attempts of comfort, silently cursing the fish in your head.
‘There was never a time that damn fish would glare at me like I was some sort of a rival..’ You added before letting out a deep sigh.
“Look, I can only tell him that you are sick, any close distance would be me dying in that cave without an ounce of a fight.” you responded finally, giving your own thoughts.
MC was well aware of your distrust with Rafayel, but she believes that with a proper communication and getting to know each other, both him and you would be friends.
“please please pleaseeee, you are the only person I trust sisterrr…” she poutes, giving you her doe eyes you can never say ‘NO’ to.
Imagine, after a lot of whining, pressure, and some doe eyes directed at you, you gave in. With one condition that you would be back after an hour. That made MC happy and willingly pushed you outside.
Imagine, that afternoon, after a lot of inner turmoil battles and arguments with yourself you finally entered the cave, the cave dim as usual, with its eerily glow and the scent of salt water hitting your nostrils. But not far from where you stand you saw the glowing entrance where the merman resides.
Imagine, you saw Rafayel in his usual spot, seemingly bored and quiet and you knew that he's been waiting for MC for days. With your sudden arrival, Rafayel was not welcoming either.
“I know you do not like me, but I came here because my sister begged me to accompany you.” you stated outright without a hint of softness in your tone. You gaze down at where he is at, again, glaring at you.
“where is she? Why has she not visited me for three days?” Rafayel did not bother to be friendly with you, mirroring your tone.
You crossed your arms at his demanding questions, at a time like this you would have argued back at him, but you did not have the energy to pursue his attitude.
“My sister has been sick for days, although she has recovered she needs another week of full rest before she can visit you again. For the meantime you will have to bear my presence and cooperate with me.” you stated, then you take out a basket full of various food that MC has prepared for him and carefully set it down to his make shift table, but before you could even put it down Rafayel was already in front of you at incredible speed.
“You damn arse-!” you almost dropped the basket if not for the big rocks supporting your body from falling into the water.
You glared at the man who seemed to be more amused by your reactions.
“I said cooperate, not be a fucking bully…” you huff before standing up and dropping the basket to his make shift table.
The man did not bother to apologise and grabbed the basket MC had prepared for him with great care.
That gesture made you roll your eyes.
“I am done here, I did what I needed to do.” you turn around to leave but Rafayel was not someone easily entertained with.
“Didn't your sister also tell you to entertain me?” Rafayel tilts his head arrogantly.
“No, she did not.” You answered immediately.
“LIAR. You do know that I can sense if someone is being truthful or not?” he mused, blue-ish tinted pink eyes glinting at your annoyed face.
“What does that matter? You don't like me and I don't like you, so why should I entertain you?” you turn around to face him with an irritated expression.
“Because MC said so, and you do not have a choice either. Entertain me or I will have the sea blocked your way till sundown.” he smirks, enjoying the shift in your mood and the anger slowly rising within you.
You did not really want to spend another hour with him but seeing the look in his eyes that says ‘I will not give up unless you entertain me’ was making a strain in your body. At his demanding request you did what he told you.
Imagine, that was your routine. For a week you have been baby sitting the grumpy and arrogant merman while MC is recovering from her sickness.
You could not even complain because you knew that to MC, Rafayel was a different creature. Something she sees as caring, kind and full of wonders while to you he was mean, snarky, grumpy and a bully. He was nothing like what your dear sister described him as.
As the week almost ends you begin preparing things to bring to Rafayel. Your sister, MC, was also helping organise the items and food that Rafayel may be interested in.
“You have not spoken much about Rafayel (non-mc), is everything well between you two? He's not bad right?” MC started already gazing at you with twinkling eyes.
You couldn't really tell her how her dear fis-friend…was making your week a living hell so you smiled the best you can.
“He's alright. Nothing I cannot handle…” you almost let out a sarcastic tone but changed half-way to a pretentious smile.
MC giggled, not noticing your slip up.
“I told you, didn't I? He's the best afterall!” she chuckles and gives you a hug.
That afternoon you left the house on the way to meet the grumpy fish. Unbeknownst to you, you did not notice the downcast expression wearing on MC's face, watching as you leave not knowing it will be the last time she will be seeing you and Rafayel.
“I'm sorry (non-mc)...and I'm sorry Rafayel…”
When you arrived at the cave, Rafayel was already at the entrance glaring as usual.
“Well well well miss so not punctual, what took you long?” he swims as he follows you inside with an annoyed expression.
“Do you think it's easy to trek down here with an incoming storm mister not so patient?” you rolled your eyes as you fired back. Then you bring down the two baskets in your hand to his make-shift table, cautious in your movement as to not fall and possibly get grabbed by the merman who had done it to you several times this week.
“I'd assumed humans like you, with feet like that would be moving faster, MC was always on time.” he clicked his tongue as he watched you being careful.
“Unfortunately I am not my sister, we do not have the same physique and stamina. While she may be more athletic on the other hand I am not. So quit nagging and check the items my sister has gotten for you.” you pull away from the makeshift table and distanced yourself from the merman who was already rummaging the baskets. Eyes full in awe and curiosity.
“Tell me, what is this weird curved spiky thing?” Rafayel reached out his hand showing you an item, a comb to be exact.
You raised your brows at that, rarely did the merman ask you for something but Rafayel was enamored at the items he forgot that the two of you were enemies.
“That is a comb.” you answered, ‘it would not hurt to answer him politely since he asked’ you thought deeply.
“A comb? And how is this item used by you humans?” he tilts his head trying to identify the usage of a comb.
You almost snorted at that but prevented yourself. It was too amusing to see an otherworldly being fascinated by a common item.
“A comb is an item you use to tidy your hair, to make yourself presentable and untangle knots in your hair…” you replied, you leaned to a stone wall observing Rafayel.
Rafayel immediately grabs his hair and starts using the comb, like magic, his untidy hair is kept neat.
“What a remarkable invention” he said, eyes glinting like stars.
The whole afternoon was spent with you explaining things to him and how it is used, the merman would not let you go unless you tell him just about everything that MC had given him. Fortunately, before the sun went down you were able to leave the cave.
However, imagine, upon your return MC was not present. It was odd considering she would be jumping and cuddling you right now and asking how Rafayel was doing and what his reaction was to the gifts she gave.
But this time the tiny house was left empty and dark. Her presence could not be felt everywhere. You looked for her, the kitchen, the room and even the tiny garden she frequented but no, there were no signs of her at all.
Tears left your eyes as you worried for her well-being, it was not until you found a letter and a familiar blue-shell necklace in your room that something sinked in your gut.
You read the content of the letter basically explaining to you how she wanted to become a hunter for a long time and had joined a mercenary group called Onychinus, and she did not want to endanger her older sister's safety therefore she decided to leave for your sake and hope that you would forgive her.
“Please forgive me sister, I did not mean to lie to you but this was the only thing I could do to help us afloat and not live the life of poverty. I know you are working very hard and even more after our parents passing, but I also felt like a burden to you. I know it's selfish but I promised you that I will come back alive and healthy and both of us will have a better life.”
You sobbed as you continued to read her letter, emotions too complex to describe. You don't even know how to feel but cry harder. Your last family is leaving you, all alone to yourself.
Just as you were about to crumple the letter you notice an additional note to her letter.
“Please tell Rafayel on my behalf how sorry I am and for breaking the promise.”
“Breaking the promise?” you were even more confused at that. How are you going to bring the news to a two-faced merman who listens more to MC than you? You did not know what to do at the moment, all feelings suddenly exposed and raw. How are you going to manage now that you're alone? How can you sleep knowing somewhere out there your sister is fighting monsters with mercenaries you don't even know about? And what is the broken promise she made with Rafayel?. All of those thoughts were making you sick. ‘I am alone now’.
—-----------------------
Imagine, the next day you tried to deliver the news to Rafayel, however the storm has landed making all the travel difficult. But there was also unease in your heart that tells you not to go.
The storm lasted 3 days but even after that you hesitated to go to the cave. The journey up ahead was dark and grim for some reason, even the clouds are depressed and no sun can be seen peaking out. So you decided to wait on your own accord to deliver him the news and continue your duties. Now that MC has left, you were all alone to yourself and the once tiny house seemed to be more spacious than ever was.
Imagine, one month later, after building your courage and debates you finally traveled towards the cave with the letter and the blue-shell necklace that Rafayel has once given to your sister. You shivered as you made your way down to the cave, the cold weather not helping your unease as you walked closer.
When you arrived, the cave was empty, what was once a glowing and welcoming dwelling now grim and abandoned. But it did not deter you, you were determined to deliver the news even if it was late. ‘He deserves to know at least’ you thought while you called out his name with uncertainty.
“R-Rafayel…” you said, eyes gazing down to the violent waters. But there was no sign of him at all.
“Great, now he's also gone…these two are really similar…” you sighed in disappointment but then again it was your fault for coming in too late. Who knows where he could be.
You tried several times calling him but you gave up after hearing no responses.
Just as you were about to leave, you noticed the waters beginning to splash violently, and a sudden unease in your heart tells you to run, however, not even one step when something flies out of the water and pins you aggressively to the ground.
The cold water was soaking your clothes but that was not what you were worried about but the merman who had you pinned down.
His blue-ish pink eyes were staring daggers at you, fangs bare and claws that hurt your skin. His tail was wrapping your lower body tightly.
“How dare you show your face here…” he growled, his tone filled with anger.
“R-Rafayel.. you are hurting me…” you plead out, you winced as pressure was beginning to wrap itself to you.
“You have the gall to complain when your sister broke her promise?!” he scoffed, his other hand cupping your face.
Your eyes widened, how did he know?That was the exact message you were about to deliver to him.
“Look! I was unaware of the promise you and my sister made, okay?! And I came here to return the necklace too!” using the opportunity of your other free hand you pull out the blue-shell necklace and show it to him.
Rafayel pulls back slightly still not letting you go. His eyes drifted towards the familiar necklace then at you. Then he suddenly laughed.
“What's so funny?! Listen, I came here to let you know she left and she left this necklace and she says sorry for breaking the promise..” your heart was racing badly upon seeing his reaction.
“Tell me, did you drive her out? Did you make her leave so that she would not visit me?!” Rafayel snarled at you, his eyes glaring at you, his tail gripping you like a vice.
You let out a painful groan “I did not! Why would I do that to my own sister?! You, of all people in this world, know I will prioritise my sister's happiness!!" you tried smacking him but he was too strong.
“You expect me to believe that?” he grabs your hand again “Who else in this world could convince MC to break the promise except you?” he added.
“Promise this promise that! I don't know!I really don't know…” your tears started falling down to your cheeks as your attempts to fight him off were wearing you down.
“The day after I left your cave was also the day MC left and never returned. She only left me a letter and that necklace, you have to believe me.” You showed him the letter which Rafayel immediately took and read the content. He had his tail unwrapped around your lower body, letting you go which you did not hesitate to run away from. You back away to a corner, eyes between him and the exit of the cave.
While he read the letter, you took the opportunity to sneak away, you were almost at the exit when you suddenly felt a pressure in your body and aggressively pulled back, back to his arms, where he was silent while holding you.
“I did not want to believe it, I know you were telling the truth but I cannot accept this. Your sister promised she would be my bride and that I would hear from her once she turns 18. She promised she would become my bride, the sea God's bride, and we would rule the seas….” His tone was sombre.
The atmosphere was getting colder and even the seas were violent in its waves as if responding to its master's emotions.
His hold on you however was tight.
“I understand what she did was unforgivable…I did not expect her to abandon me too but I choose to understand even if it hurts…and I hope that you–”
“Forgive her? understand her?I was patient, I loved her, and WE promised but she chose to break it and run away to a life of danger when I could have given her the life she wants…” he laughs, as if mocking your words.
“Look she–” he cuts you off again. Something in the air made you even warier.
“I knew something was wrong when our bond was broken…the promise was not a simple bond but a contract of a lifetime where our souls will be bound…that is something not easy to break unless another spell intercepts it and only it will break if the other agrees.” Rafayel turns you around to face him. His gaze was looking at you darkly, gripping your arms so tight you knew it would leave bruises.
But you knew where this was going, MC was not like that, you convinced yourself she was not the type to break promises at all or even lie…but then again she did leave you, alone.
“When you said about a spell intercepting your bonds with my sister and my sister agreeing to it, are you saying someone with equal power as you can make a similar bond with MC and if she agrees to it then your bond…will break, therefore, the broken promise.” it clicked to you why she apologised to Rafayel. But, this was also not yours to blame! Why are you getting the brunt of it?!
“I'll give you that, you are smart after all.” Rafayel chuckles coldly. He did not deny any of your conclusion, he deduced you knew by piecing all the information.
“Okay okay okay, I understand you are angry but leave me out of this! this has always been between you and her. I only came here to bring you the news.” you tried to wiggle your way out of his hold but he seemed to be more assertive.
“NO” he said coldly.
Your heart quickened sensing the change in his tone and the way his tail flickered side by side, you knew what that meant, there was never a day you don't know of his characteristics.
“Rafayel let me go!.” you tried using your feet to kick him but it was no use to a merman with a body of a wall. it was only making you tired.
“Now that your sister decided to choose someone else, the sea is left with no queen and heir. However, the sea god can still choose someone else…” he gazed at you with calculating eyes.
“Leave me out of this Rafayel, I don't accept anything nor I will agree to become a part of your scheme!” you yelled, you slammed your face at him with force which left him surprised and dropped you to the ground.
You did not waste your time and stood up to run while the merman was distracted. But you forgot one thing, Rafayel was a sea god. While momentarily surprised from the attack Rafayel used his powers to drag you back to him.
“no no no no please…” you cried as you tried to run again only to be met by his embrace.
“You really think you can outrun a sea god (non-mc) . I may have let you in the past but this is your responsibility now. You will pay the consequences from your sister's broken vows and you will bear my heirs.”
He brought your face to him, despite your unwillingness he forced himself on you and kissed you hard, blood drew out of your mouths which sealed a contract, something that cannot be broken by any spells. A spell Rafayel made on the spot to make sure you will not leave him or break your vow. Now your soul is eternally bound to his.
—------------------
Imagine, after the whole ordeal, Rafayel has made you his queen. The kingdom of Lemuria celebrated and praised the two of you as a wonderful couple.
Although you knew better, you were never the same since then.
Despite being dressed with all the luxuries and fed with food you have never tasted in your life or slept in a comfortable bed, what joy is there to bring when you were never happy at all. The people of Lemuria might not know the truth but you aren't comfortable sharing your sorrows when your so-called Husband is watching you 24/7.
Despite his indifference towards you, over time he had learned to know and love you.
When the matter of heirs was brought up to the council, Rafayel did not waste to embrace you all night.
“Rafayel…hnngh…no more…” you panted, hands gripping the sheets as Rafayel passionately pounded you from behind.
“We can't let them wait any longer, my queen, an heir must be born.” he thrusted, leaning down to give your back a wet kiss.
“bear me a child, love.” he whispered in your ear.
You let out a moan while he continued to devour your body in every position. You had lost count on how many times he had come inside you but you knew you were full, you could feel him even as the day passes, his cum would leak out from you and it takes an embarrassing moment to leave the office to return to your chambers, but that would also mean Rafayel would be tagging along where he would drag you to bed and take you once more.
It did not take long for an heir to be born, a crown prince who will soon take his father's reign. Everyone adored your child and you too but your son resembled too much of his father.
Still you cared for him, loved him and adored him like a mother should. As you take him to sleep your son suddenly asks you a question.
“Do momma and papa love each other?” he looks at you with those same bluish pink eyes as his father.
“Why of course, why do you ask, my love?” obviously you cannot lie, even your son has the ability to tell whether you're lying or not. You just learned to love Rafayel even if you were unhappy.
“papa loves momma too and me too…” your son chuckled before drifting off to sleep.
You smiled, a broken smile hidden so well you can only trust yourself.
“He's fast asleep.” Rafayel whispered.
You already knew the man was watching the whole time.
“He's been playing the whole day, he's bound to be fast asleep tonight…” you softly replied, caressing your son's cheek.
You feel a dip behind your back, then Rafayel embraces you, his chin on your shoulder while he gazes at the child.
“I know we were off to a bad start but thank you so much for giving me a blessing…” Rafayel murmured, his other hand traveling down to your swelling stomach, a second child to come soon.
You hummed as a response while the two of you watched the young boy fall asleep.
End-
—-----
Notes: hello y'all ✌︎˶╹ꇴ╹˶✌︎, it's been a while!. This oneshot right here had been sitting in my drafts for months now. Actually, there were a lot of changes when i wrote this because I was not satisfied at all ˶ˊᜊˋ˶, but it's been in my drafts for so long that I decided, yeah fck it let's just post it ˃͈◡˂͈. I hope y'all have a good sleep and rest cuz this one ain't ꒰ ᐢ ◞‸◟ᐢ꒱.
It was just the lack of fics for nonmc x lads that I decided to write again 😅. But there were also a lot of ideas that I also want to share. Both are what inspired me to write again. 😊
A week had passed since the event had ended, a week since the manor of Duke Heliart's had been bombarded by visitations of many noble men and women, hoping to see the woman who had suddenly become the hot topic of the empire. While some are envious, others are curious of this woman who had suddenly shown herself and had captured the attention of the most sought out man.
‘What is her relationship with Lord Caleb Xia?’ most, if not, had the majority of similar questions in mind. Therefore, they visited, asked, and even sent letters to the woman in hopes to get the answers.
But of course, all of this was rejected by (reader). She stared at the 50th letter in her hand, the content inviting her into some lady's tea party, but she knew better.
“Get rid of all of this Lucy.” (reader) tossed the letter to the piling papers in her desk, her personal maid already working on burning the letters.
Lucy did not dare say a word, sensing her mistress' foul mood. The young maid could only pray in silence that her Mistress does not explode.
“That Xia, this is his fault…” (reader) groaned in frustration. Slowly massaging her temples as she recalled the ball. It was obvious that Caleb intentionally grabbed the attention of the people and exposed her. Initially, she did not have the intention to introduce herself in front of the many nobles, and wished to keep to herself, but as if the heavens disobeyed her prayers, the ‘purple beast’, as she calls him, had spotted her and deliberately revealed her identity. Now, people are dying to meet her, not even the Duke himself can stop it.
(reader) imagines choking the life out of him, for the stress and helplessness he caused and now she cannot go out freely as she had hoped without being peered at or stalked by curious nobles.
“Apologies for interrupting you my Lady but you have a visitor.” a servant announced, gazing at (reader) nervously.
“Please, not today. I do not have the time to converse with them. Dismissed them right away.” she rolled her eyes, sighing deeply as she felt another head ache.
“I have informed the visitor, ummm I believe Lady Sophia insisted on speaking with you my lady.” The servant answered, his head lowered, eyes closing anticipating anger to come his way.
But (reader) did not do anything except sigh outloud, a rustle in the background before she stood before him.
“Then lead me to the drawing room.” she tiredly ordered.
The young man nodded his head and led his mistress to the drawing room where Lady Sophia was already waiting for her.
“A pleasant to see you again Lady (reader)” Sophia greeted, her eyes twinkling observing the frown expression on the woman's face.
“A pleasant, indeed.” (reader) sarcastically answered, plopping down to her seat across Sophia.
“Oh dear me, do not look at me as if I am the one causing your foul mood.” Sophia mused, picking up the warm tea on the table and taking a small sip.
“It will be, I certainly remember denying your letter to visit and still here you are.” she crossed her arm, shooting her a frustrated glare.
“You know me Lady (reader) even back when we were students, I don't accept ‘no’ for an answer.” Sophia giggled, but her eyes were already glued to (reader).
“I already know what you are going to say Sophia.” (reader) dropped the honorifics as she turns away at her stare.
“Well, it certainly does not harm a friend to ask about their friend's well-being.” Sophia softly stated, her gaze now back to her tea.
“I have you know I am doing great.”
“Oh really?, from this angle you seemed to be more stressed than you let on. I understand that the situation is quite the uproar right now but come on, it hurts me that you do not open yourself and let me help you.” Sophia pointed gently.
“I do not mean to push you away Sophia but at this time, I need the time for myself. Can you blame me? that man intentionally drew attention and exposed me!” (reader) places her hands in her face as she finally complains.
“Certainly, everyone is curious about it.” Sophia nodded before standing up and sitting next to her, she pulled (reader)’s head and had her lean into her shoulder.
(reader) let out a deep breath and closed her eyes, the warmth in her friend was what she needed.
“I just do not understand why he had the need to tell the world about it, we do not have the kind of relationship to be in that position and he knows I hate him.” she added, even frowning as she recalled the ball.
“Do you want me to hire an assassin to get rid of him?” Sophia offered as she patted her head smoothly.
“What? no, that would be too easy for him, he could easily beat that guy and I'd be more in an embarrassing situation. But thank you for the offer.” she chuckled as she leaned into Sophia's shoulder.
“The offer is still open just to let you know, as long as my dear friend is happy.” Sophia mused.
Another week had passed by, but this time, invitations had stopped and there were no people trying to visit the manor unannounced.
(reader) had finally decided to go out, she only brought Lucy with her as she left the manor to the town.
As expected, there were a lot of people gathering, crowds everywhere, stalls and shops full of people. It was always busy no matter the day but it was something (reader) appreciated, she could blend in easily and go about her day, just like she always does when she was abroad.
Visiting different shops and buying necessary things, it was afternoon when Lucy had reminded her she has to purchase a new dress for an upcoming temple event that is going to be held in a week.
“Is it really that necessary for a Duke's daughter to attend such an event? Not even father is interested.”
(reader) muttered, they were resting at a small cafe.
“His grace the Duke might not be interested but her Duchess insisted that you must be my lady.” Lucy shook her head as she responded politely.
“Right, her. Pray tell, what had happened to Mother that she has to recuperate in the countryside. She did not explain to me nor did she reply about my inquiries of her well-being, not even Father.” She questioned the young girl, arms crossed.
“T-that…it was too sudden for all of us as well, my lady. From what the butler had told us she fell in the garden and had been sick since then, the reason for it was unknown and the doctor kept her condition. That is all I can tell you, my lady.” Lucy sincerely answered while looking at the woman with a nervous expression.
(reader) did not pry any longer, that alone was enough. She did not exactly have a good relationship with her parents, only that she was treated like a guest in her own home, and a stranger outside.
That afternoon they continued to shop and brought a new dress for the upcoming event.
____________________________________________
A week later
The temple was filled with people. Excited expressions plastered on their faces as they waited patiently for the ceremony to start. In the beginning, all they really wanted was to witness the Saintess bless the empire with her divine magic, and rumours started that whoever witnessed her powers will be blessed as well. Moreover, the addition of the Hero being there was another hot topic that everyone has been dying to meet.
All but one, and (reader) has been displeased since the beginning. Not only has the ceremony not started but the temple was getting more crowded. Sweat was beginning to fall in her cheeks, and the humid air was starting to make her frustrated. This was exactly why she disliked attending events. It was too overstimulating and drains her energy too fast. She was not exactly like those ‘special’ people with mana, another thing to add in her parents disappointment.
Then, people in white robes appeared on the podium and an old man she assumed as the head priest greeted everyone. ‘The ceremony has begun, finally.’
Followed by the Saintess, whom everyone admired and the Hero, the crowd was immediately taken in their breaths. Despite seeing them so many times it never ceases to amaze them just how much of a beautiful pair they are.
Saintess MC began using her divine magic while Caleb stood behind her back. Light emitted everywhere as MC continued praying, her hands clasping together as she concentrated.
While everyone was enthralled by her powers on the other hand, Caleb, had been observing the crowd, eyes roaming, as if looking for a particular someone.
He knew that (reader) was among them, he specifically told her mother that (reader) has to attend, though he did not mean to scare the old woman but she was also stubborn not to bring (reader) back in the empire. He was aware that the Heliart's are not on good terms with his family but does that really stop him? Maybe in the past he would've despised the idea, but he can only blame (reader) for making him feel complex feelings.
His eyes stopped towards a familiar (h/c) just between a small group of old ladies, she was too good at hiding. Her eyes were boring flatly, not focused, and seemed to be more frustrated than welcome.
That almost made him laugh but he controlled himself. He knew she despises crowds so much but it was fun to tease her and witnessing her different emotions aside from the scowling so much.
As the ceremony ended, everyone immediately crowded the Saintess and the Hero. This gave (reader) the opportunity to leave the area and walk towards the temple's garden to finally get herself a breather.
Unlike inside, the garden proved to be peaceful and large. For a garden, it was impressive, she found herself stopping by the lake, the water was clear, the blue skies mirroring below.
She kneeled down, her hand reaching towards the water.
“What an amazing place…” she murmured, admiring the way the water rippled just by the touch of her hand.
Her mind and body immediately relaxes.
She stayed there simply listening and admiring the environment until heavy footsteps could be heard behind her. She stands up immediately and turns around. Her expression quickly changed into a frown.
“Must you stab my heart deeply my lady?” Caleb pouts, putting on a hurt expression.
“You…what are you doing here?” She demanded, her arms crossed.
“Well, I sort of live here you know” he chuckled, unaffected by her glare.
“In that case I must leave. I have overstayed my visit.” she turns around without spending another glance at him.
“My lady please, I just got here, you know. Do you really hate me that much?” He softly pulls her wrist and turns her around to face him.
That move was something (reader) did not expect, especially not after seeing those purple eyes gazing at her, as if pleading her to stay.
“You!- Are you a dog?! You are awfully close Caleb Xia!” This was the second time she had dropped honorifics at him and the second time her heart has been beating fast. Her face was already close to a tomato.
“If I was a dog would you keep me? I do not mind being yours my lady” Caleb was enjoying the sight in front of him.
Right, this was exactly how their dynamic goes, a push and pull string. But this time he will make sure that string will forever be tied to him.
“Are you crazy Xia? Is your mind in the gutters? Let me remind you that I can make your life miserable if you do not let go of me right now.” Her eyes stared at him with deep ferocity as she attempted to threaten him.
‘fuck’ that did something in him, something he has been missing for a long time. Instead of being offended, he pulled her closer to him.
“You really have no idea how I miss this (reader)” he whispered, his tone was dark and deep. Almost possessive. “Make me miserable, yeah, I'll wait for it.” he added.
‘okay fuck that, that's scary’ (reader) thought, horrified by what she heard. Is this man possibly a masochist?
“Are you wishing a death sentence Caleb?” She tried to pull away from him, which Caleb happily allowed but still held her hand.
“I've been in touch with Death that they cannot easily take me (reader), I don't think it's time for me. I really missed you, a lot. Even this.” He gestures at her and him.
She was astounded at him, a lot. How is this the same Caleb in their student days compared to the present. Not only is she speechless, TWICE, but he had the audacity to say he missed her? Brushing even death?
“You have lost it Caleb.” She shook her head and forced her wrist to pull away from him. She was going to run away from this crazy man.
Of course, just as she was about to make a run he pulled her again but this time both of them fell towards the ground. She landed on top of him while Caleb took the hit.
Unfortunately, a crowd of nobles surrounding the Saintess happened to visit the area and witnessed the scene.
Gasps left their mouths and murmurs followed.
It took a minute for (reader) to register what's going until she realized the position she and Caleb is in, from an outside perspective this would be interpreted as doing a shared intimacy.
“oh my, is that Lord Caleb?”
“Is that Lady (reader) Heliart?”
“So it is true. The two of them are in that closed relationship?”
“But in broad daylight? That's scandalous.”
(reader) immediately stood up, shame and embarrassment was all over her face. She wanted to escape and flee but the crowd was getting larger and more whispers followed.
Suddenly, a cape was covered around her.
“I apologize everyone, this is simply a misunderstanding. Lady (reader) was trying to help me get up but it seemed I pulled too hard and accidentally fell.” Caleb cleared the scene, he feigned sorry and everyone nodded their heads accepting his words. Though some doubted, they kept their mouths shut in fear of Caleb's wrath.
Caleb turns around and meets (reader)’s invisible wrath, “I apologized, My lady, but I am grateful for your help.” he smugly smiled, there was no regret in his tone.
The crowd dispersed after that and (reader) left immediately not giving him a spare of attention, but Caleb was fine with that. Slowly (reader) would finally be in his arms.
“You know, if you really like her you should have confessed instead of making all that trouble.” MC interrupted, glancing at the man with disappointment.
“Well, she's not the type to accept a straight confession you know, so this is the only way I can get her.” Caleb smiled fondly.
“You have really changed Caleb, back then you would complain about her and how she made your life a hell. But now, you are doing the opposite of what the old Caleb wants.” MC recalled, shaking her head.
“Maybe…or it never really changed at all.” he answered, eyes staring at the necklace he accidentally pulled from (reader) earlier.
“Well if you need anything just call me. I have a date to attend with.” MC bid him goodbye and left him on his own.
Caleb did not say anything until she left. His eyes remained on the necklace. A purple necklace to be exact. She was wearing the things he secretly bought for her and had his spy attend as (reader)’s personal maid.
Slowly but surely, (reader) was going to be his.
Note: Sorry for the long wait folks! Work has just been so busy lately that I haven't had the time to make a part 2 but here we're are finally YAYY!! I did not expect for the fic to blow up honestly but am grateful for yall lot for loving it ❤️
Imagine, the noble Caleb Xia being admired by everyone, the hero among people, the savior of all. The title he wears like a crown, and in every person's mouth he was a deity that descended in heaven to protect them. Nobles could not wait to meet him, invite him at every possible chance in hopes they could build a connection with him, marry their daughters to him, he was like a golden prize that everyone wanted to covet. However, the noble Caleb Xia was already smitten to the Saintess MC, another savior they wish to possess.
The two of them were like two pieces in a pod, inseparable, and the most important figures in the empire. Without them the empire would collapse, therefore, everyone wanted to get their opportunities connected.
Though some envied their close relationship, some are not pleased and harbored ill feelings towards the saintess.
“Ugh I wish His Lordship Caleb is not that infatuated with the saintess, I can never seem to reach him without his eyes looking for that woman” a noble lady complained, her eyes rolling in frustration while she takes a sip of her tea.
“Careful Lady Isabella, you know how protective his Lordship is with the saintess…” another lady chimed in, scolding the young woman lightly.
In this particular setting, 4 women sat together for an afternoon tea. The quietest of them all being (reader), observing the three women with cold eyes.
“Lady Bianca is correct, the young lord may be famous but let's not forget he can be aggressive towards those who disrespect his dear saintess.” Lady Sophia added, placing down the teacup softly on the table. Then her eyes darted to (reader) a knowing smile plastered on her face.
“except… Lady (reader). It seemed that his Lordship Caleb Xia cannot retaliate against you.” Her eyes twinkled as she said teasingly.
Isabella and Bianca also directed their attention to (reader) their eyes already full of curiosities.
“ohh…thinking about it, the two of you clashed a lot back when we were in the academy.” Isabella recalled, head tilting in a curious manner. “I never understood why the two of you seemed to be against each other,” she added.
“I remember you even fought his Lordship Caleb in a sparring match back then, all for it to end in a tie.” Bianca leaned back in her chair as she glanced at the quiet woman who seemed to be enamored in her tea than listening to her friends.
On the other hand, (reader) was indeed trying to not listen, cue, TRYING. But it was difficult this time knowing three eyes were expecting her response. She let out a deep sigh before looking up at them.
“I hate him.” was all she said.
The three ladies frowned at her response, they were expecting some big revelation, not THAT.
“that's it?” Sophia crossed her arms, disappointed at her lack of enthusiasm.
“What is there to share? I simply hate him.” (reader) shrugged, truth be told it was more than that. She thought it was not worth her time to recall such a memory.
“Hate stems with a reason Lady (reader), you cannot hate a person just because." Bianca pointed, she folded her fan, eyes looking at (reader) telling her she won't give up until she knows the truth.
“She's right, although I am confused why you hate his Lordship Caleb, everyone is practically wanting to build connections with such a successful man.” Isabella joined.
(reader) was getting annoyed by their follow-up questions but she cannot just push away three influential figures, knowing her mother would chastise her for it.
“Ladies, that is all really. Just because he is wanted does not mean everyone needs it, and I don't.” (reader) smiled flatly. “So please, let us not bring this person and enjoy the afternoon, afterall, weren't we talking about the incoming ball?” (reader) was able to successfully change the subject as the three ladies returned to their main topic, that afternoon left a bitter taste in her mouth.
That night, (reader) sat in front of her vanity mirror, a brush in hand while brushing her hair smoothly. Her eyes sharp as she observes herself, then she recalled the conversion earlier. Why did she hate Caleb? She could say…a lot. There were so many things she hated about him, even back when they were students in the academy.
Back then, she was the top student. Everyone admired her, wanted to be her, and she loves the attention that stems from it. Until he came into the picture and her spot was stolen.
Instead of admiration she was compared constantly, from academics to even sparring matches. It came to a point that pressure was demanded by her parents.
“You are letting that Xia boy steal your place (reader)?! I expected a lot from you!” her father yelled at her, eyes gazing down at her disappointingly. Her mother on the other hand did not defend her, instead, she pushed a lot of work on her, to be better, to do better, to excel and reclaim her throne.
Despite her efforts, (reader) came in second and she cannot accept that. No!, she will not accept that!.
Then came the sparring matches, it was fortunate that she was paired with him, that day the arena was buzzing in excitement, who would win? The golden boy Caleb Xia or the blood hound Lady (reader)? Everyone knew that the two of them excelled in swordmanship, but can they defeat one another?
The arena was in awe as they witness (reader) and Caleb fighting, wooden swords broken now switching to a real sword. Two are stubborn to admit defeat. It came to a point of being injured but none wanted to let go of their pride as they continued to battle like there's no tomorrow.
Two knights had to pull them off of their fight and announced the win as a tie. That was the day (reader)’s hatred began to grow. Despite the blow of injuries she gave him he was arrogant and confident, taunting her, teasing her to be better.
Back to the present, (reader) had not thought of him until she was reminded by the ladies. Truth be told, after she graduated the academy, she requested from her father to leave the empire and go abroad, maybe to reflect or get rid of the feeling of humiliation of not being able to reclaim her spot, still, she was approved to leave without a second thought.
(reader) stayed abroad for 5 years until she received a letter from her mother demanding she returns to attend the annual ball. She did not question it; she knew her mother was being pressured to have her dear daughter attend the annual ball so she packed her bags and returned and after 5 years the empire had undergone a lot of change, knights patrolling everywhere, tight security, more tall buildings.
Of course this happened because of the war that happened 5 years ago, right after she left the empire. But she did not question whether the empire loses or not, they have Caleb Xia for that.
When she returned, her mother had her take the household responsibilities while she recuperated in their private villa in the countryside. While she did not care whether her father acknowledges her return or not, one thing for sure, she cannot refuse the annual ball.
Which leads to where she is now, the imperial palace was buzzing with crowds, and everywhere she looked were familiar faces of those influential families, including Isabella, Sophia and Bianca. Meanwhile, her own father is nowhere to be seen, probably off somewhere to speak with his fellow men.
Which leaves her, alone, no partner, and boredom is settling in her system. She badly wanted to leave but she did not want to cause a ruckus just as the event was about to begin. So she settled at the cosiest spot, sat down, and a champagne in her hand.
Then the music begins and a voice accompanied “The Saintess Lady MC and his Lordship Caleb Xia are entering!!”
Everyone immediately swiveled their attention towards the big door revealing two magnificent people in matching white outfits. Murmurs followed as they witnessed the two entering gracefully. Of course (reader) had to be there to witness their exaggerated entrance. She did not bother to even look at them, settling in her champagne and downing it in one go.
“look at the pair, it's like heaven bestowed them upon us…”
“They're so graceful, I feel like my eyes have been blessed.”
“The hero and the saintess? Wow, they're really exceeding my expectations!"
“hey, did you hear, there's a rumour that Saintess MC is going to be engaged to the crown prince!”
“Are you serious? Crown prince Zayne?”
“Yeah I heard it too, apparently, someone saw the two the other day and Prince Zayne proposed to her Saintess…”
“Can you both shut up?!, don't you think it's a bit rude of you all to speak in the presence of these important figures?”
The gathered people hushed in their words, unknowing to the eyes that had been looking at them.
(reader) had not intended to eavesdrop, only her interest caught upon the mention of the Saintess' engagement to the crown prince, allegedly. She did not know the Saintess personally, but just hearing about her name being repeated multiple times did she conclude this woman to be so great that she was able to catch two golden prizes in her palm.
Her eyes locked towards the two people in the center of the ball room, their gazes meeting the emperor as they greeted him, then beside the old man was the crown prince, already looking at the Saintess with intense eyes.
‘Huh…interesting.’ (reader) mused, leaning comfortably in her chair while she observed the tension between three people.
“I guess it's not too bad to attend to this ball after all…” she chuckled, getting another glass of champagne while she observed them for her entertainment.
On the other hand, the emperor was pleased to see the nation's treasured heroes.
“It is a welcoming sight to see the two of you bless this empire with your protection.” The emperor gracefully stated.
“We are deeply honored to be invited by your highness.” The Saintess lowered her head, hand in her chest as she greeted him.
Caleb did not say anything but did follow the Saintess actions. Upon seeing this the emperor bellowed a laugh.
“Ah you always amused me saintess and your companion here. Why so stiff? In this party you are the subject, so have fun and let this night be your continued success forward." The emperor ended his speech and returned to his throne.
Everyone rejoiced and only did they cheer upon hearing the ball's music, instantly, everyone paired with their partners, and off they went into the ball room.
Though, they did not start as they witnessed a bizarre scene, Crown Prince Zayne pulling the Saintess in his arms while his eyes glared towards the hero, Caleb Xia. Whispers followed.
“So it is true? Is the Saintess engaged to the crown prince?”
“Is this not a good opportunity?”
“Ahh, yes, His Lordship Caleb Xia…”
Everyone waited for the hero to act, to pull away the saintess, however, they did not expect the man to back away and leave the Saintess and the crown prince, instead the man seemed to be headed somewhere, just around the corner, then surprisingly a woman they did not recognize stand up with a displeased look plastered in her face.
On the other hand, (reader) gazes up towards the man. Her face contorted into frown.
“It's pleasant seeing you again my lady.” he smiled, but his smile did not quite reach his eyes.
“Quit your motives and leave me alone Lord Caleb,” she did not give him the satisfaction he wanted, not when she knew those purple eyes looking at her with intentions. She's not exactly the type to cooperate with a person she dislikes.
“You wound me my lady, is it wrong of me to greet my long time FRIEND?” he said out loud enough for those people surrounding them closer to hear his words.
(reader)’s eyes turned cold instantly, she knew what he was doing and he was making sure that everyone knew so she will have no choice but to accept whatever he wants to say.
“I see, so this is your next option after being rejected by your dear Saintess Lord Caleb? You see, I am not exactly the type to obey people like you.” she fired back, her eyes meeting those intense purple of his with clarity.
Caleb chuckled seeing her defiance, of course she would immediately reject him, knowing her.
But after 5 years of not seeing the woman who made sure his life was hell, he cannot help but become enamored seeing her so laid back and those eyes that screamed she do not give a damn about everything.
His hand could not help but reach towards her face down to her chin and to those luscious lips he had been dreaming for so long.
(reader) immediately slapped his hands away.
“Mind your manners Lord Caleb Xia.” her sharp words were a jolt to his spine, and feelings that he was sure was gone began to resurface seeing her again.
“You are feisty as ever, Lady (reader) . I would have thought you had forgotten me, but seeing that reaction I am glad. Now be a dear and will you accept my hand to this wonderful evening dance?” Caleb mused, his left hand reaching towards her.
“Are you deaf or have your senses gone feeble that you do not understand a lady's refusal Lord Caleb?” (reader) was getting irked by the way he seemed unaffected by her words or refusal, just like he was back when they were students, so annoyingly arrogant. Moreso, the crowd was getting bigger the longer he stayed rooted waiting for her.
He was still looking at her with those expectant eyes.
“You are so irritating” she did not even glance at him as she turned her back to leave. Well, she tried, but true to his personality, he was stubborn.
Not even one step and she was pulled towards his firmed chest. Surprised at the sudden contact she tried to pull herself off of him when he placed a hand to her back and leaned down to whisper in her ear.
“Just this once…please.” His voice was almost pleading, there was no trace of that prideful and teasing tone, instead, it was as if he was begging.
“what are you-” she was about to protest when he leaned his head forward, forehead in her shoulder, while his other hand crept towards her waist, firm and grounding.
“I know…I know you hate me, but please (reader), my lady…, just this once.” At this point he did not care whether the people around them were going to gossip, heck he even wanted it, if it meant this time he can get some type of closure to the woman he had mixed feelings for so long.
On the other hand, (reader) was already panicking, not only is she stuck in this predicament but people around them were already talking, even the crown prince and the Saintess had to stop in their dance to see what's going on.
“Caleb let go…” (reader) tried one more time even dropping honorifics to bring some senses into him but that only made the man embrace her tighter.
“I have not seen that woman before, who is she?”
“I have no idea…”
“Wait…she is familiar. Is she not the daughter of Duke Heliart?”
“What? No way!I thought his daughter went abroad?”
“I heard she just recently returned…”
“Then what is her relationship with the Hero Caleb Xia? He seemed to be fond of her?”
“No idea…”
Of course their whispers did not go unheard by (reader) it was getting more and more crowded.
She did not have a choice but to accept his hand. “Fine!I will accept your hand so let go of me Lord Caleb.”
Upon her words the said golden man released his tight hold of her and beamed her a wide smile.
“That was not so bad is it not?” he laughs before grabbing her hand gently and leading her to the center of the ball room, everyone parted their ways to give them space. As soon as they secured their spot the music began. Everyone could not help but be back to the position they were once while their eyes kept a wary glance at the new addition.
Caleb glances down at the woman in his embrace, with a face that screams she wanted to punch the sight of him.
“You look more graceful than the last time I had seen you, my lady” he started, admiring her silently.
“Is that an insult Lord Caleb?” (reader) did not hide her contempt at him this time.
“Look at you, even a simple compliment cannot grace your beautiful mind.” he teased back. Though he does not mean it to sound like mockery, he cannot help but annoy her just to see that face only looking at him.
“I would not mind a compliment that is not coming from you.” she sneered, rolling her eyes while her hands remained on his shoulder as they sway fluidly with the music.
“That is too bad, I alone is enough to grace you a million praises than let the others compliment you with a soil in their mouth.” he grins, then he turns her around before catching her gracefully, her back in his chest, his right arm secured beside her waist.
Something in his words made (reader) frowned, it was not his usual banter when they argue but it's definitely something, it almost made a fluttering feeling in her stomach.
But then again, this was their first time seeing each other after 5 years, things changed, even for a man like Caleb Xia.
“You seemed to be awfully knowing of your words Lord Caleb, but I am not someone you can easily sway with flowery words.” She fired back, she could feel his breath behind her neck as they danced.
“I assure you my lady, my words have always been true when it comes to you.” Caleb spins with her then turns her around to face him, her eyes meeting his purple ones.
“What ever do you mean my lord?” She gazes up at him, those eyes that could hypnotise him instantly.
Caleb Xia smiles, a genuine smile, something tells her it was up to no good and just as she was about to say something the music ended and they had to separate.
As much as she wanted to know, she cannot tolerate the gazes from people who had been observing them for a while now. This was her cue to leave before that irritating man grabs her for so whatever reason.
That night, a bizarre and new gossip began and this time it is not about the Saintess and the hero but the Hero and the daughter of Duke Heliart and their mysterious relationship.
Back in the carriage, Caleb was quiet. His purple eyes staring deeply at the full moon outside his carriage window. His mind was in deep thought.
“I thought you hated that woman Caleb?” his aide, Lucas, questioned. He was observing his lordship who seemed to be quieter than he was already back in the palace.
“I cannot refute that I do but…” Caleb responded however, can he really hate the woman who he waited for 5 years? Even after what happened back in their student days? Sure it was serious that they competed a lot and made sure that one of them was going to admit defeat, but clearly it was not the case. Not when every time he sees her his heart would do somersault and feelings that are too complicated to distinguish from hatred or admiration.
“But?...” Lucas waited patiently for his reply.
“I do not think this is the right time to speak of this Lucas..” Caleb dismissed him, but deep in thought he was just glad that she finally returned.
After pressuring her mother to have her return, soon she will learn that it will not be easy to get rid of him.
Caleb glances at his palm, the feeling of her skin sent a satisfactory jolt in his spine. He could not help but think of inappropriate thoughts which he tried to get rid of.
He gazes back at the full moon. ‘Yes, she was just like a moon. So close yet too far to reach.’
💬 0 🔁 8 ❤️ 62 · YANDERE CALEB XIA x WITCH NON-MC F READER · Part 1
💬 3 🔁 7 ❤️ 78 · Caleb Xia x WITCH non-mc F reader · This is my first
CHAPTER 3
Everything clicked together, this was no longer a random world she lived in but a familiar one, a life that should only exist in a book. It made sense with all the magic, beasts and monsters and even her existence as a witch. But it also meant that she was not safe, the proof already being those mobs chasing her, determined to kill her. Now, alone in this lost maze of woods, (reader) decided to organise herself first before finding a shelter she could seek in, her mansion no longer a safe space. Knowing those people would probably guard her home like a hawk and strike down if she ever attempts to return.
The path was not difficult, fortunately, following the sound of the running water (reader) was able to find the waterfalls. Without hesitation she made contact with the water and sank down, finally her dirty skin was rid of the mud and dirt that had stuck all over her, sometimes hissing from the wounds she did not realise she had.
After a thorough bath, (reader) was able to alter her white hair to her original (h/c). her clothes dry immediately with the use of her spells. Although (reader) learned quite a few of dark magic that are necessary to her, she has yet to grasp the extent of what the body can do, since she has no recollection of memories of the body she possessed she could only rely on what she knows through spellbooks. She made her way back to what she could assume was a path to find food, which took (reader) 30 minutes and finally finding a bush of berries (the edible ones) she could consume safely.
Another hour has passed before (reader) decided to explore the woods, this time to find a path that could lead her to a village, though she's aware of the risks and what she is going to put herself into but at this point she needs a place to stay and general information of the story's setting, which scenario she is already and how it is progressing so far. Considering she stayed for 4 months at her mansion without human contact, she does not know whether the hero and the Saintess have already met or has the war between human and monsters ended? For all she knew she could be at the story's ending.
2 hours had passed since she started walking to what she could assume was a road to a potential village or town, using the muddy ground as a guide (like gps), the obvious wheel marks and hooves was a proof that the path she took was commonly used to travel between location A to location B, which means there is a town or a village just ahead.
Though it was starting to make (reader)'s feet hurt she persevered, she was desperate to find a shelter and not get caught by night, alone in the woods. However, as she relentlessly continued, the sound of heavy footsteps or rather hooves caught her attention, (reader) turned around to find a carriage driving through the same path she went. Panic rises within her, although her disguise was perfect but she cannot guarantee that the people in the carriage are friendly and are also divine users. Just as she was about to make a run the carriage passed by her, (reader) stilled in her spot, waiting for the carriage to continue its destination but then it stopped half-way, as if sensing her. (reader) froze in her spot, she was not ready for another battle with a divine user!.
The carriage door opened, revealing an elderly woman, her face staring at (reader) with intensity.
"You..." The old woman started, her index finger pointing at (reader).
Caught off guard, the reader responded with a flinch "YES!"
Her loud voice made the elderly woman frown but nonetheless made her way to face her.
"You, young girl. Are you looking for a job?" the elderly woman immediately states her purpose, eyes scanning (reader) up and down.
"huh-pardon-" (reader) responded in confusion and the urge to cover herself from the old woman's stare.
"You're hired. Come along now. " She didn't hesitate to pull (reader) with the force of a boulder and tossed her inside the carriage as if her opinion does not matter, as if she has already decided that (reader) takes the job with no choice.
(reader) sits at the farthest corner of the seat, looking traumatized and surprised by the woman's strength. She couldn't even form a word when she was interrupted immediately.
"Listen, you are already the 5th person that will take the position of an exclusive maid for a very important noble. It is important that you put this in your mind as I will not be explaining it again. Your duty, serve your master with no judgement, endure your master's temperament, take care of your master, your life now belongs to your master, and no matter what, NEVER BETRAY YOUR MASTER." The woman said it so with clear comprehension with no room to argue not even (reader) who was suddenly kidnapped could interrupt the elderly woman.
"Certainly you are mis-" still (reader) tried to reason, all she wanted was to live away from the eyes of humans and not get caught up in the story's plot, now that she knew where she is and what her role in this world.
"You have no choice in this matter, I choose you and you will serve the master. You don't have to worry about your wage, you will be paid handsomely, where you stay and live will be provided with necessary things you need." The elderly woman's tone was adamant and final which left (reader) in disbelief. But as the carriage continued its destination to this nobleman's mansion, something in her gut told her she should have just run away but with the woman in front of her holding her hostage at this point, she could not be reckless.
The carriage stopped but with the curtains closed (reader) could only follow the woman as they exited the vehicle. The cold air meets her skin as she stands in front of a big mansion, even bigger to her mansion back in the woods. There were knights stationed at the gates and they greeted the woman respectfully while she followed behind. Everywhere she looked were shimmering in wealth, the floors, the roofs, all shining in expensive materials. However, the woman leading the way made a beeline, turning to a different path and guiding (reader) to a private room.
"You girl, what is your name?" The elderly woman inquired while her hands brushed towards a pile of clothes and tossed at (reader).
" (reader) " she answered immediately while her arms caught the clothes in her embrace.
"Are you familiar with chore duties?" The woman interrogated pushing (reader) to another room which leads to a bathroom.
"Yes ma'am." (reader) nodded quickly while she let the woman guide her.
"good, then you only need to be taught about things you are unfamiliar with, and no don't address me Ma'am but Headmaid Lila." She acknowledged while lecturing her as well. "You will start tomorrow, and it is up to you how you deal with your master, learn from him, understand him, and most of all never tell a single soul of what you are seeing or your life will be the price of it." Lila added, her cold eyes staring at (reader) with obvious threat in her tone.
With that Headmaid Lila left (reader) to clean herself. Yet, to (reader) who was suddenly entrusted with a pressuring duty that she never asked in the first place, wanted to just fly out to escape but remembering those cold eyes and the clear intent in her words, reader was left to suffer in turmoil while taking a clean bath for the first time since that night.
Right after her deep cleansing she was given a private room of her own and was provided a meal.
"one last thing (reader), once you start working under him you cannot leave." Lila added vaguely.
The next morning was eventful, not only did (reader) lack sleep but Lila had pulled her from her room, was introduced to some of the staffs and servants including the head butler, Lucian, and was forced to learn to brew tea, cook a meal according to the nobleman's diet and how to address her master and all sorts of things that an exclusive maid should know. All that in half a day and by that afternoon she was pushed in front of a big room, both the head butler and Lila just a distance while (reader) stood still in front of the oak door with hands holding a freshly brewed tea.
Just like she was taught (reader) was about to announce herself when a sudden crash was heard inside, then followed by a woman screaming. The oak door was pushed open revealing a sobbing woman, bare with only a blanket to cover her whole body. An obvious wound could be seen from her neck.
"My Lord!!" Both the butler and Lila panicked in unison as they ran towards the man.
The man himself was standing, seemingly unaffected by the commotion he caused. In his right hand was a dagger tinged in blood.
“Arrest that woman for attempting to kill a nobleman…” His deep baritone voice ordered with no emotion to it.
“As you command my lord.” Lucian immediately responded with alertness, his gaze shifted to Lila and with a nod of understanding Lila took a hold of the man and led him to the bed while the butler left the chambers barking orders to arrest the woman from earlier.
While all that happened, (reader) on the other hand was left speechless and frozen in her spot. Not because there was an attempt but rather the man in front of her was none other than the male lead himself, the hero and warrior from the novel she read in her previous life. She thought she was managing an ordinary noble but who would have known it would be the very man she rooted with the female lead?!
“My lord, I apologise if this may come sudden but with the unforeseen ‘departure’ of your caretaker I have found a suitable servant that can attend to your needs, no attachments in her backgrounds and simply a loyal under your command” Lila stated removing the dagger in his hand while she glances at (reader) and urge her to come closer.
“She swore fealty in your name and knows the consequences if she dares betray your trust.” she added.
(reader)’s expression almost, if not by her quick composure, changes her expression. She wanted to gaze at the elderly woman and yell at her ‘since when did she say all of those?!’, she was kidnapped, forced against her will to work and now she's claiming her fealty?! The audacity?!. Can she really be grateful that she was able to work under an amazing person (she'll regret saying that later) and knowing her true identity could jeopardise her life?.
“Lila…”
His words made her snap from her thoughts, there was something in his tone that made her uncomfortable for some reason, his back was facing her while he faced the elderly woman with a stoic expression.
“You said that last time but that ‘thing’ swore nothing but lies,” he said coldly. He crossed his arms while maintaining a straight posture. “That cost me almost my life…” he added.
Lila understood the undertone of his words, her head hung low from the guilt as she remembered how her master almost died from her poor judgement of the last person.
All of this was witnessed by (reader) which only made her confused. What are they talking about and who is this person they're trying to hide under a pseudonym of words?. What is she going to do at this point?, her hand was already aching from holding the tray of the now cold tea.
“That was my mistake my lord and I sincerely reflected from that, however, I made sure that this servant is clear, we already made a background check on her and she has no connections to any noble houses or from any known rivalries. She knows what to do.” Lila sincerely and confidently responded, her eyes shifted back to (reader).
As much as (reader) wanted to lose her sanity from the head maid's words, she chose peace and introduced herself by the commanding eyes that were directed at her by the elderly woman.
‘Yeah, I'm dead’ she cried in her mind.
“G-greetings my lord, my name is (reader) and I shall be your e-exclusive maid moving forward.” she stammered, her hands already sweating from holding the tray of tea while her head remained low the whole time.
There were movements that can be heard from in front of her, a shift, then an uncomfortable feeling as if she's being observed. There was stillness in the air and a pause.
Then a thought came over (reader) the man in front of her was no ordinary, he was a hero for a reason, a warrior to all humans, a divine user, but there were more to him than just a welder of divination, the eyes that can see through every being, and by seeing through means he can detect whether the person in front of him is human, beast, or a monster. Right now, she’s fighting the urge to escape, while she may possess the power of dark magic she does not know how to properly utilise it yet, and if this man finds out her true identity she may as be dead by that very dagger Lila has in her hands.
“Raise your head…” He ordered, there was no softness in his tone.
(reader) was hesitant at first but the uncomfortable silence was unbearable. She lifts her head slowly, eyes scanning his feet until it reaches his face. She almost let out a gasp if not for the head maid burning holes in her face.
The man that everyone called a hero, the warrior, the savior of all human kind was sitting in front of her, body thin, obvious stubble and those eyes…eyes that would captivate everyone was hollow and white, there were still a hint of those hypnotizing purple color, still, it was obvious he was blind. Which confused (reader) as the book never stated what she is witnessing at the moment.
“Are you what Lila claimed to be?…” Caleb demanded, his voice remaining flat but it did not go unnoticed to him the way (reader) shifted her tone, he knew she was surprised, everyone did.
Who would have thought the great hero was actually incapacitated. One mistake on his part, his confidence that he could easily defeat a monster, one everyone underestimated. It did not register to him until it was too late, the monster, or specifically the WITCH, had cursed him to blindness, one that prevented him from using the divine sight. The words of the witch were still on his mind before she died.
“The curse cannot be undone even if you seek help from your fellow divine users, not even your goddess can help. You will pay for your sins of killing my family Caleb!!” she roared in anger before her body succumbed to death.
True to her words the curse cannot be undone, he tried to seek help at the temple of his dear goddess but even that was naught. It dawned on him finally that he was really cursed to finally suffer. To never see light, to never see her. It was his punishment.
Then he snaps back to reality, (reader)’s voice bringing him back to the present.
“I am not perfect, however, Head maid Lila entrusted me in your care and I shall do my best to serve my master who has saved my life from ruin.” A lie, (reader) made up an immediate answer. She didn't really think of that until the head maid looked at her again to cooperate, mouthing at her to say anything that would please her master. So she did, just not too sure if he would buy it, she was also vigilant, eyeing the man like a prey ready to run away if he figures out her true self.
“Saved you say? Have we met before?” he tilts his head as if to analyze her.
‘fuck my life’ (reader) cursed herself before standing straight and clearing her throat.
“y-yes! You may not remember me but umm…I was one of the orphans you saved at the ruin village from the south” Her voice cracked as she made up another lie, although, half of her statement was true, Caleb did in fact saved an orphanage in South Village from a monster attack, yet, she's also unsure if the story was already at that point.
Caleb on the other hand, nodded his head acknowledging her words.
“I see, so you were one of those kids, I can tell by your accent.” he hummed, his words of confirmation making (reader) relieved.
He didn't say anything after that, he shifted his attention back to Lila.
“You are dismissed (reader), you can return to your quarters.” Lila motioned for her to leave which (reader) happily did so.
She left the room quietly. While her life may have been spared fortunately, her head was full of questions, one being her accent and two, is Caleb really blind? Can he not sense her dark magic? Considering he did nothing but questioned her, she was left with more questions than relief.
💬 3 🔁 7 ❤️ 78 · Caleb Xia x WITCH non-mc F reader · This is my first time writing a fic about lads men, so some information might not be
(reader) woke up and realized she possessed a body of a witch, one who will wrecked havoc and caused chaos to humanity and die by the hands of the main characters. However, it seemed fate had something in plan and she ended up becoming a servant at one of the most famous noble houses in the kingdom. Although, she did not expect to become an exclusive maid to a blind man who is the hero of the kingdom. His rude and aggressive character contradicts to what she heard from the rumours and the novel. But that did not deter her from doing her job.
"You are a bold servant using your powers at your master, unhand me this instant!!" Caleb angrily shouted, his body covered in invisible force unabling him to move.
"Well, if you have been cooperative I would not have resorted to this" (reader) snickered, frustration showing in her face while she glance at the rude man.
"congratulations my lord your vision has been restored!" the doctor overjoyed, looking at the quiet man sitting on the bed.
"where is she?" Caleb finally uttered, his voice cold and distant.
The doctor gazed at him confused.
"I apologized my lord, but whatever do you mean?" he inquired.
"(reader), where is she?" Caleb repeated once more though his tone were becoming cold and a hint of anger could be sense from it.
The doctor however looks at him with questioning eyes, as if he did not know the person Caleb had mentioned.
Looking at the doctor Caleb was firmed with his suspicions, (reader) broke her promise and left him, she may have put everyone in a spell to forget her but she cannot tricked a man whose ability can withstand any dark magic.
"Run all you want (reader), but if I catch you, you will never leave me. "
Chapter 2
The world outside shakes with terror, the ground moving like it's awake, birds scrambled away from the trees, their cries like a warning to everyone. Yet, far away from its chaos, a mansion surrounded in a maze of jungle, (reader) slump on the floor, in fear and in tears. Whatever was out there was not normal, nor the on-going earthquakes that continued to disturb her peace and her temporary home. She was not used by the calamity so severe she might as well have died if not for the magic that kept the mansion safe from turning to dust.
It started a week ago, small and bearable. (reader) thought she could handle a small wave of the ground, continuing her study of magic, but then days forward the outside was hovered with red smoke, the skies turning a bloody red, like an apocalypse. The moon unseen, hiding from the thick polluted clouds. The air reek of metal and stench, but she was uncertain...no...she was doubting. She did not want her suspicions to be true, not when she has not figured out the world she's living, where exactly is she? Had she probably isekai'd in a story? A manhwa? Or an alternate dimension? The concept of it was unbelievable, but can she deny it when her soul alone possessed a body of a monster? A witch?
Then the cries of animals, birds, dogs, even unidentified creatures that screeched and howl, was enough to make her paranoid. She was going crazy.
This time, as she stand up, her feet grounding firm in support to her staggering upper body, she carefully gazes outside the window to see the chaotic events. Though she expected the gates of her mansion to stay intact, however, an unidentified group barge unceremoniously as if they owned the property.
"This must be it! The lair of these monsters that plagues our village!!" a man screamed viciously pointing towards the grim mansion with its pointed weapon.
The group yelled in unison, a shared fury and resentment in their expressions as they followed the man.
(reader) frowned, she expected the spell that was casted in this mansion to rid unwanted visitors but somehow these people found their way to her temporary home and realization dawned on her that the spell she casted to alter one's hair color has begin to wear off. She scrambled in panic, looking around for something that will cover her head.
BANG BANG BANG BANG
Violent knocks echoed through the entire mansion, the people shouting, demanding someone to come out.
"YOU MONSTER! SHOW YOURSELF!!" someone in the crowd yelled.
(reader) flinched at their uninvited demands and the urge to step out willingly slipped through her mind if not for her reason to stay alive no matter what.
"if they see me, they will realized I am indeed a monster living in this mansion." she breathed deeply, thoughts complicated while her hands busied itself to cover a whole shawl in her head, tucking every strand of white hairs. Alas, fate has never been a keeper of its promises. The doors to her mansion was struck broken and footsteps could be heard every where.
"seized everything and find the monster!!"
"don't let it get to you!"
"becareful! this mansion are filled with dark magic, don't let it get contact to your bodies!"
Every word stabbed like a real knife to her heart, to think she dreamed of going out there and potentially getting killed to these type of people? Now, her safety comes first.
(reader) seized the opportunity to climb outside her window and discreetly escaped. Even crawling to the ground to avoid being seen and being detected by some divine users. She can't risk exposing herself while she has little knowledge of her own magic.
She found herself at the back of the mansion, dirt sticking to her palm and knees as she crawled in haste and careful movements.
"I remember a path here somewhere that leads outside to the woods..." she recalled, a flash back playing in her mind of herself exploring the mansion.
"Just a little more..." she muttered, inching closer to a small door just past the garden, hopes and relieved in her eyes believing she could outrun danger.
"I sense something..."
Just like that, two people came in the garden, their eyes scanning the dark. (reader) stilled from her tracks, her heart beat racing fast and the fear and anxiety growing in her body while she mustered every strength and muscles to stay in her position.
"well?" a gruff voiced impatiently taps his partner.
"I could've sworn I detected something..." The other man tilts his head trying to peer every corners to prove his claim.
"You heard the boss, the monster is inside not outside, you are just making excuses to loot this place!" The old man scowled turning his back on him, planning to return inside.
'"Believe me Pierre, I did sense something!" The brown haired man pointed at the dark, unwell looking garden house, his eyes gestures for the old man to believe him.
"Don't be a fool Estevan! The last time you said that our group almost went 6 feet under with your recklessness!"
The two men continued to argue, much to (reader)'s relief, and she begins to advance slowly. Taking advantage of their loud voices as they quarelled and her own body moving closer to the door until....
SNAP
Her arms accidentally snapped a twig and the two men immediately fell into silence, their hands instinctively reached for their weapons.
"fuck I told you I sensed something!" Estevan cursed irritatedly glancing back to Pierre. The old man on the other hand stared towards the abyss, his eyes lingered something in the corner and he gestured for the other man to stop talking while he made careful advances towards the sound.
Meanwhile, (reader) knew she fucked up and she could hear the distinct footsteps crawling cautiously towards her direction. If she don't move they will eventually find her and exposed her identity. The sight of the woman pinned on the stake flashed in her mind and fear before reason snapped as she stand up and immediately dash and escape through the door.
The men gasped as they saw a woman and not just a regular woman but a witch donned in human form, said to wrecked havoc and caused chaos and a born evil creature. Without hesitation they chased after her while calling the others.
"A witch! It's a witch! There's the plague that wrecked havoc in our village!!" Estevan called out as he pulled out his blessed divine weapon while the others immediately rushed in.
The forest now a place of the hunter and the prey, all eyes on its prize.
Adrenaline pushed further in her system as she run with all her might, crashing every obstacles and almost falling to the ground, she could hear them screaming at her, calling her WITCH WITCH WITCH WITCH.
Her feet begins to sore and bleed, her skin starting to tear from the branches and thorns that blocked her way, all while the people behind her, intent to capture her.
Her right hand suddenly caught with something but she did not have time to dawdle when her life is on the line. The mobs were getting near and she was not in the right mind to use her own magic to defend herself.
"Please...please...please...let me live...let me live.." tears started to dropped in her eyes as she tirelessly run, never stopping, never pausing, not until these people leave her alone.
"Just why..Just why?! Why made me like this! Must I possessed a body resented by all?" (reader) muttered hatefully, her lips chapped and bruised from biting and is losing the energy to continue.
"Look! She's losing power! Take advantage of it!" Pierre yelled realizing the witch's movement were becoming more and more staggering. Surprisingly not even fighting back, he concluded this witch was a newborn, therefore, he will make sure to remove the roots before it grows into a deadly poison flower.
However, just as they were closing in, the forest moved, paths suddenly changing, more trees appearing, and the route they knew was gone, as if they were pushed into a maze, and the WITCH gone. The eerily quiet forest made everyone on their feet cautious.
"Shit, this must be the doing of that monster!" Estevan stride forward. He was attempting to find the route only to get lost and return to the group.
"that witch is toying with us!" someone chimed in, their frustration evident in their tone. Their gazes everywhere as they tried to figure out the trick in this damn trap.
Meanwhile, (reader) finally fell on her feet, landing on the ground harshly, her breath uneven as she tried to catch more oxygen and calming her own racing heart. Every part of her body screamed PAIN. So much that all she could do was crawl towards a nearby tree and leaned on it. It finally dawned on her that the mob was gone, but that did not reassure her, not even for a single moment, unfortunately, her body succumbed to the agony that she lost consciousness that instant.
5 hours later.
(reader) woke up with an extreme head ache, slowly pulling herself up despite her body telling her to stop from the intense pain that has become swollen.
Memories from last night flashed into her mind and she became alert in her surroundings, however, instead of seeing that burning red sky and thick fog that has swallowed the maze woods, she was met with the rays of sun and the clear blue skies hovering just above the trees, the smell of stench and metal has disappeared and she could hear the sound of running water, a sign that a waterfall or river was nearby. The desire to clean herself and drink water was pulling her to move but she did not, not when she realized she's been carrying a crumpled paper in her right hand. All this time she had been carrying it with no knowledge of where she got it.
She gaze at the torn crumpled paper in her right hand before finally opening it, and instead of finding a random article, she found familiar names and faces that reminded her too much of the characters that belonged to a novel that she read in her previous life. Then it clicked, now it made sense, she was not just in any random world but in the world of a story she last read before dying.
Just read your Caleb x non mc fic and I’m excited for the next part. (Also, don’t worry your English is very good)
Question: did non mc get isekai’d before, or after the story started?
Omggg thank you!! Currently working on the next part 😊💗. Also nonmc was isekaid when the story started already but she didn't realized that yet until of course when she got chased off by the mobs (a spoiler kind off hehe) but thank you so much for taking interest in my fics. 😭💗
This is my first time writing a fic about lads men, so some information might not be accurate. Note that am not good with English so expect lots of grammatical errors and misspellings. This fic is not proofread or edited either so I apologize in advance.
(reader) woke up and realized she possessed a body of a witch, one who will wrecked havoc and caused chaos to humanity and die by the hands of the main characters. However, it seemed fate had something in plan and she ended up becoming a servant at one of the most famous noble houses in the kingdom. Although, she did not expect to become an exclusive maid to a blind man who is the hero of the kingdom. His rude and aggressive character contradicts to what she heard from the rumours and the novel. But that did not deter her from doing her job.
"You are a bold servant using your powers at your master, unhand me this instant!!" Caleb angrily shouted, his body covered in invisible force unabling him to move.
"Well, if you have been cooperative I would not have resorted to this" (reader) snickered, frustration showing in her face while she glance at the rude man.
"congratulations my lord your vision has been restored!" the doctor overjoyed, looking at the quiet man sitting on the bed.
"where is she?" Caleb finally uttered, his voice cold and distant.
The doctor gazed at him confused.
"I apologized my lord, but whatever do you mean?" he inquired.
"(reader), where is she?" Caleb repeated once more though his tone were becoming cold and a hint of anger could be sense from it.
The doctor however looks at him with questioning eyes, as if he did not know the person Caleb had mentioned.
Looking at the doctor Caleb was firmed with his suspicions, (reader) broke her promise and left him, she may have put everyone in a spell to forget her but she cannot tricked a man whose ability can withstand any dark magic.
"Run all you want (reader), but if I catch you, you will never leave me. "
Chapter 1
Everyone knows the hero who had saved the kingdom from its peril from being overtaken by monsters. Many called him different names, "The God sent miracle", "The Warrior", "The Salvation", "The Hero Of Humans" and so more. Many admire him for his noble and humble character and in every nook and cranny his name is unforgettable. A light to those who were saved and a demon to those who had done unspeakable things, He was Caleb Xia, their divine protector.
Then, there's the Saintess, said to be the hero's companion and healer to all mankind. She was graceful, kind and caring. She helped those in need, ignoring status and background despite society's ire. She was what they call the messenger sent from heavens to save them from evil, from their hardships, from the pain that was caused by plagues of monsters. She was the Saintess that everyone called and respected, Lady MC.
Both of these people acknowledged in high regards, for they knew THEY are their only mercy and salvation from the lurking dangers that can take their life. Their gates of heavens, they called.
But for (reader) who had possessed the body of a witch, a character like her said to be another form of montrosity. Despite donning on a human form, witches were evil and wrecked havoc. Their dark magic opposes of that of the divine and often uses to manipulate and control humans out of their will.
(reader) could not help but cry out her sorrows, dying miserably in her previous life and now possesing an evil character destined to be killed by the main characters, could her fate be any worst?
Surrounded in a maze of jungles and darkness, (reader) felt an extreme emotions ready to escape from her mouth. She wanted to scream, she wanted to vent, not only was she being chased by a mob of angry humans but she also discovered that the world she's currently living was a novel she read from her past life. Now, lost in the woods having hidden away from being potentially killed (again) by the mobs, she glanced down at the torn crumpled paper in her right hand.
The names and faces of familiar characters brought her back to when she was alive in Earth. (reader) an ordinary office worker was a huge fan of novels and manhwa's, particularly, "The Dawn Of Bloom" which was a hit novel in the internet, not only was it addicting with its fantasy and fighting trope but the chemistry between the hero and the Saintess was what made (reader) root for so much. With their power and sense of responsibility and justice to save humanity and defeat the evil plus their budding romance, it was (reader)'s cherry on top favorite.
(reader) was able to finish the novel in a week, one day she decided to buy some snacks at a near convenience store across her apartment. Looking left and right to make sure that there are no vehicles passing, (reader) made her way across after checking that it was safe to cross the road. Just as she was about to reach the end she suddenly sensed a budding fear. Unexpectedly, she didn't made it as her body was slammed against a truck, her body being thrown off and made a harsh impact to the ground, pain immediately registered in her body.
The harsh contact made everything in her vision to spin, her hearing giving a deaf tune. Suddenly a crowd of people appeared, some shouted to get help while another person came and kneeled down to check on her, trying to make her stay awake while the ambulances are coming it's way. But to (reader) everything is ridiculously painful and nauseous but she could not do anything while her body is uncooperative.
She wanted to sleep, to put an end in her misery, her blurred vision lulling her to close her eyes in its finality and she did, her breathing stop and her body stilled, although warm but the person holding her body knew she was gone, the ambulance came too late, and the suspect?, nowhere to be found but an empty truck.
When (reader) woke up she found herself in an unfamiliar room full of odd things, what made her uncertain was the way the room looks so old fashioned, resembling that of a medieval era. But that didn't matter at the moment when she found herself in the vanity mirror looking so different yet still the same. Her facial structure remained but her hair abnormally white, and was much more older in this time.
(reader) did not believe it at first, thinking it was some sort of a dream but a week had passed since then and she was in pain and starving, a dream should not supposed to feel like it was the end of the world. But she was so hungry that she ate whatever she can find in what supposed to look like a kitchen, odd in its style but at the very least she ate something to soothe the aching pain growling in her stomach.
(reader) wanted to cry at the moment, having eaten something in a while. After sometime she decided to explore the place finally. She realized that the house was not ordinary, she assumed the place was a size of a mansion with just how big it was. It took her 3 days to finish exploring the mansion and she realized that the world she lived in was not ordinary with how many books in the library she found contains magic and the existence of monsters and beasts.
What caught her attention in particular was a picture that looks like her, a humanely looking woman with white hair but the labels underneath clearly states otherwise of what the woman is.
"A witch?" she mumbled in confusion. She flipped the pages and read it's contents
"Beware of the witch for they are not human but a monster in disguise. They masked themselves to lure humans, their dark magic casting control and evil. Witches are not to be trusted, follow them and you will vanished, never to be seen again."
(reader)'s face contorted into mixed emotions as she read further, suddenly her airways tightened, the book falling on the ground, echoing against the empty library. She walked with staggering steps as realization dawned on her. She was not human, worst a monster, can she really take it seriously considering she's in a body of strange person with no recollection of memory of who she is? In this world, she was alone, this mansion she's living was empty with no people in sight. Was she really going to accept that in this estranged world she was an evil monster?
"No, that can't be." she exhaled deeply, shaking off the anxiety that is slowly creeping into her.
"It's a story, lies...lies.." she laughed, denial was easy to believed in.
But her eyes peered back to the book on the ground. Thoughts forming, she died but now she's in a body of a so called monster, an evil witch. The world is unrecognizable so if she recklessly go out in attempt to find humans, can she guarantee a warm welcome? or another death? and then there's the existence of magic.
She scrambled her way to another section of the ailes to find books about magic. (reader) did not have to worry though, for every turn was about magic, she could access everything in it.
1 month had passed and reader learned a lot during her stay in the mansion and learning everything she could about the world. She knew that humans existed but also monsters and beasts. She learned that the body she possessed also has the same name as her and that she can control dark magic like the book had stated. It wasn't hard to learn about her dark magic when she can instantly control the dark magic with great fluency. It was as if the body had memorized it and (reader) just need to control it again.
But (reader) knew that with her existence comes consequences. Somehow she discovered a room and realized it was an office, with paperworks detailing new magic spells, potions in different labels and newspapers warning humans to be cautious of the witch in the woods. There was already a grotesque image of a dead witch pinned on a stake like a warning to her that if she tried to do something she would be the next on that stake.
It chilled her to the bone, she had yet to accept who she is but she is also trying to live, having not lived enough in her previous life, at the very least in this life fate should be lenient towards her.
(reader) managed to summon a spell one that can alter her hair color for 24 hours. Now, back in her original (h/c) she's also trying to learn how to hide her dark magic. knowing not only beasts and monsters exists but people with divine magic who can easily sense a dark magic user like her.
"I swear, all I want is to live.." she sighed solemnly, head meeting the desk as she tried to rest. A groan escape her lips as the day ended with her learning another magic spells.
"just why did it have to be this world??" (reader) complained despite having no idea what world she is. She should be out there figuring things but fear is stronger than her determination.
Organized Love and Deepspace Non-Mc Fic Recommendations
Sylus
☆ Angel of Her Own Making - by bwennie (link here)
☆ Dragon!Sylus x Non-MC!Reader - by clairewritesfanfics (link here)
☆ Heartbreak Anniversary with Sylus - by mephisto-reporting (link here)
☆ Sylus with non!mc reader - by yukithestar (one, two, three, four)
☆ enough - by captivating-flavors (link here)
☆ away (loosely part 2 of enough) - by captivating-flavors (link here)
☆ wilted promises - by shaiyasstuff (one, two, finale)
☆ delayed beginnings - by shaiyasstuff (one-shot, sequel, epilogue, bonus)
☆ The Great (Unnecessary) Divorce Incident - by mangooes (link here)
☆ The Winner Takes it All - by misshuntereevee (one, two)
☆ one in the head, two in the chest - by comatosebunny09 (link here)
☆ hurst so good - by comatosebunny09 (link here)
☆ The Sin & The Sinner - by saintobio (link here)
☆ Calm and Serenity - by blueivyy99 (masterlist)
Zayne
☆ Nocturne of Twilight - by chuluoyi (part one)
☆ Dawn's First Light - by chuluoyi (part two)
☆ pit-a-pat - by shaiyasstuff (one-shot)
☆ Heartbreak Anniversary with Zayne - by mephisto-reporting (link here)
☆ Heart of Glass - by shaisuki (part one)
☆ The Snowflakes on your Shoulders - by shaisuki (part two)
☆ My Wedding Vow Is To Divorce You - by kira-loves0905 (link here)
Caleb
☆ Rotten Apples - by rcvcgers (masterlist)
☆ mine - by captivating-flavors (link here)
☆ The Colonel's Keeper - by saintobio (link here)
Xavier
☆ glass half full - by shaiyasstuff (drabble)
☆ 3:07 a.m. - by shaiyasstuff (one-shot, sequel)
Rafayel
☆ Heartbreak Anniversary with Rafayel - by mephisto-reporting (link here)
☆ Ocean Memories - by yuansie (masterlist)
◇ There's probably a lot of non-mc fics out there that i haven't read/seen BUT these are the ones that I'm currently reading and re-reading / already read!
◇ To the authors mentioned THANK YOU FOR YOUR AMAZING WRITING/WORKS AND I LOVE YA'LL 🙈💗
Synopsis. Dearest gentle reader, it is with great pride that we introduce this season’s most eligible bachelor, Duke Nanami Kento. However, ladies be warned, rumors swirl that our most gallant gentleman already has his eyes (and hands) set on a particular chambermaid. You.
Pairing. Nanami Kento x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem!chambermaid!reader, duke!Nanami, BRIDGERTON AU, duke x chambermaid, slight social clashes, he’s SO in love, courting, face-sítting (fem rec.), squírting, spítting, he’s FÉRAL, fíngering, overstím, breaking furniture, dóggy, “just the típ”, manhandIing, HEADLOCKS, creampíes, tummy buIges, chokíng, dúmbifícation, PÚSSYDRÚNK Nanami, the ton, proposals, happy ending, pet names, swéaring.
Word count. 9.0k
A/N. To that one nonnie that made it impossible NOT to think about this…
“And who–pray tell, is that fine gentleman, Shoko?”
“Who?”
“Him.”
It was like watching a parade, of sorts.
Monarchs upon nobles upon countless upper-class elites filtering in and out of the royal palace. Each with a long, satin gown fluttering about, or men with glinting medals that likely cost more than four lifetimes of your wages.
Debutante season had commenced.
And as part of the Queen’s chambermaids, it was your duty to pain-stakingly welcome each special guest deemed worthy of attending her highness’s garden parties.
Which is why - almost on instinct - you’d snapped your head towards the clip-clop! of a carriage steadying to a halt by the hedge-archway entrance. Catching just a flash of sleek blond, who…
Before the footmen swing open the carriage doors, and out steps the most handsome man you’ve ever seen in your entire life-
“Oh, him. That’s Duke Nanami Kento.” Shoko drawls underneath her breath, dipping into synchronized curtsy alongside the household staff. “And he’s staring intently right at you.”
Honestly, Shoko might be one of the Queen’s most favored healers- but you really think she’s been neglecting the health of her eyes lately. Daring to elbow her in the side, “Don’t jest!”
She snickers, and you’re sure you detect the nearby daughter of a merchant family haughtily sniff your way—“I do no such thing.” Though, not for too long, fortunately for the two of your necks, because just then Duke Nanami’s stepping into clear view of the party - and you’d never glimpsed so many aristocratic mouths drop.
So many ladies (and some gentlemen) fluster, and so many older heads of families water at the mouth like they’d just spotted the most delectable prey.
Understandable, however.
Because if Nanami was thoroughly agreeable to your eyes in the few peeks you’d stolen at him- then he was almost other-wordly now.
With the most charming, tidy golden hair pushed back, a few curls coiling at the nape of his high collar. A towering stature that made even the most accomplished generals hunch in on themselves, and you nearly audibly gulp at the broad flex of his arms within his navy jacket. Stern. Stoic.
His molten, intense eyes peek over thin-rimmed glasses at the buzzing guests ahead, and you swear that they begin to stray somewhere near you—
“Heavens! Must I repeat myself, you common scullion?”
Ah, at the way Marquess Zenin Naoya was saddled right behind you and spitting hellfire, surely.
You rush to bend into an apologetic bow, so low that the knobs of your spine start to ache- “Please forgive my impudence, My Lord-”
“Have you nothing between your ears but lint?” He’s growling, spindly hands tightening on his empty goblet of wine until you hear the silver material creak. And it’s hitting you right then n’ there that in your haste to ogle Duke Nanami, you must have failed to heed Naoya’s calls for more drink-
He turns his sharp profile to the side and spits on a patch of clean-cut grass, “A servant that knows not her place is no better than dirt. What do you gawk at like so?”
“N-nothing, My Lord.”
And you can only watch, in slow-motion terror, as Naoya flicks his beady gaze behind you- and his sour face tenses at the vision of the tall newcomer that’d easily - and very obviously - ousted his mantle as the most eligible bachelor present. “That ol’ duke? Heh- dreaming that he’d bed a wench, did you?”
“Forgive me, sir, it was not my intent to give offence.” You’re breathing out, first clenching as you feel the withering looks that were starting to prop up around you two. Everybody loved a scandal. Trembling hands reaching out for his cup, “I-if you would allow me to just refill-”
“Don’t touch me!”
CLANG!
It happens all at once.
The heavy goblet clatters to the floor, a warm chest nuzzles your back, and a strong hand was locked right around Naoya’s raised wrist. Right before he could strike.
“It seems her highness’s liquor is exceptionally strong.” Nanami’s deep baritone sounds above your head and makes your skin bead with a blanket of goosebumps.
And it’s slightly husky. So attractive.
Especially when he’s tilting his head down so close, something primal in his eyes that made it feel like he was on the very verge of devouring you whole. Right there in the middle of the bustling garden party. Humming sternly, “Yuji, please escort our impaired marquess somewhere ah…quieter.”
“Y-yes, Nanamin- I mean, Your Grace!”
You’re watching, speechless, as a younger boy with the most vibrant head of pink locks runs up from behind and grabs onto both of Naoya’s shoulders to bodily steer him away from you.
He must have been stronger than he looked, clearly, because the proud heir was being lugged away like a sack of potatoes no matter how much he squirmed and fought - much to the amusement of the party-dwellers. And you.
But you’re quick to bite back your startled laughter once you’re realizing that Nanami Kento was still holding onto you. And not just stood behind- you must have stumbled amidst all the commotion because he had a large hand gripped onto your hip to steady you.
You were in his arms.
Gasping, “O-oh.” You couldn’t have broken off faster from him, knees strangely weak as you’re forcing them into yet another curtsy, “I am so-”
“My deepest apologies, Honorable Miss.” The duke beats you to it, a strange smile playing along his stern lips as he bends into an even deeper bow. “I should have asked prior to touching a lady.”
“A-a lady!” You’re squawking, in what was most definitely an unladylike manner. Hands wringing to gesture him to straighten as much as you could without it being seen as defiance against one of the crème de la crème of nobility. “I assure you I am no such thing, Your Grace.”
Just then he kisses the back of your hand in greeting, “Please, call me ‘Nanami’- or ‘Kento’, should you wish, ma’am.”
“It- it is beneath you to be designated that by me-”
“I insist.”
And if everyone here was watching the upending chaos before, then they simply couldn’t remove their eyes by now.
Whilst Nanami - still bowed - only tilted his head up with a smile, looking at you through his long, pale lashes.
You lift the humble fabrics of your working dress, a thick, dark-colored wool that marked you different from the tittering daughters of the upper-class. “B-but I am only in service to her highness.”
“Is that so?” And you’re breathing a sigh of relief as he stands back to his broad, proud figure- finally, he’s understood and would prance off as all young bachelors did to- “For I only gaze upon the most beautiful lady that has graced the floor this evening, and my blessed gaze.”
What?
“Have a charmed night-” Nanami has a dimple- he has a dimple that winks from the side of his grin as he turns and nods down with the velvety brim of his hat. “-My Lady.”
My Lady.
Utahime’s hands clap down on your rigid shoulders. “Sole heir to the Nanami fortune. Rich, handsome, aware when to cease talking.” Her low whistle rings in the air- tinged with such scandal, “Fiend seize it! I should hasten to practice your new title then, Duchess Nanami.”
“You have a lamentable deficiency in wit-”
Utahime, reputably sensible tutor to the offspring of the royal ladies-in-waiting, and known blockhead around your little trio. “And you have a lamentable deficiency in eyesight.” Sighing, “The look he bestowed upon you, my dear…”
“Or would it be ‘My Lordliness.’” Shoko croons in as well, sipping on a flute of bubbly champagne definitely not meant for her. “Oh-so-beautiful wife of Duke Nanami-”
“Attend to your duties!”
.
.
.
Dearest gentle reader,
It has come to my attention - and certainly to that of all the ladies who frequent the halls of Mayfair - something for which you should do well to brace your hearts. Whispers spread that the most eligible bachelor of the season, gentle Duke Nanami Kento, erupted quite the scandal during her majesty’s garden soirée by fixing his much sought-after attentions upon none other than a humble chambermaid.
Yes, you read that correctly, dear reader. For someone reputed in the upper echelons of society for being as stoic as he is handsome, Duke Nanami shares his first spark of interest as he searches for a bride this season.
So heed this author’s advice; as the famed noble resides in the royal palace for the rest of his stay, keep an eye about. For you may just be lucky to be named Duchess of the House of Nanami.
Yours Truly,
Lady Whistledown.
.
.
.
“This is preposterous!”
“It is absolute truth-”
“It is a sham is what it is.” You’re nearly crying out as you shove Lady Whistledown’s latest scandal sheet back into Shoko’s arms. “He- the duke never fixed his attentions on me.”
And your best friend didn’t spare you a word, only a long, narrowed stare of her intelligent eyes that made your stomach twist.
Did Nanami fix his- no. While you and Shoko huddled into a hidden alcove within the sprawling walls of the palace to read the latest on-dit gossip, you smacked yourself back into reality.
The nobility often did have nothing much to entertain themselves with outside of fanning scandal. He was powerful. He was attractive. And he has as many prospects as there were knights in this palace, surely!
Because - of course, for the universe did love to laugh at your expense - he’d taken residency in the palace until the season ended, as one of the Queen’s guests.
Days later you could count every look, every smile, every bow- goodness, there was that one time that you’d been placing cutlery along the winding royal dinner table. Only for Nanami’s engulfing fingertips to brush against yours and make your skin scorch with his whisper, “Thank you, my lady.”
You’re almost befogged why that wasn’t splashed across Lady Whistledown’s writing- chambermaid loses her wits, hear ye!
“Wh-whichever way one looks at it.” You’re stammering out, realizing that you’d been quiet for much too long. “His grace is simply raising some kind of mischief.”
“Certainly.” She was not certain.
“Just you wait- by the end of this season, Duke Nanami will be married to a lady of high standing and I shall–”
“Be disengaged?” That wasn’t the monotone, sarcastic voice of your longest friend.
It was something masculine, something amused. And it was emanating right from the open space of the corridor reading up to the alcove.
You don’t have to turn your head to realize who it is - Nanami Kento.
Though, you do turn anyway. And you almost regret it when you’re stuck by the sheer intensity of his stare, of his face leaned down so close. So intimately that you can’t stop yourself from flitting a sharp glance down at his plush, curving pink lips.
Perhaps Lady Whistledown wasn’t all that wrong - especially about him being handsome…
“Apologies for startling you, ma’am.” Nanami cuts your traitorous thoughts short by slowly tilting something flat and cream-colored in one hand. “Permit me to explain- will you hopefully be disengaged to attend the upcoming Royal Diamond Ball? Perhaps?”
You’re bowing, confused. “Y-yes, Your Grace. I shall be of service during her highness’s ball.”
It was only the most anticipated assembly this entire year, the annual gathering right in the Queen’s Great Hall to announce the diamond of the season.
And in only a week, every single servant of the palace was to work themselves to the bone - welcoming, chaperoning, making note of the newly-made unions to titter over much later.
“Ah, allow me to clarify.” Rubbing a free hand behind his neck, the famed Nanami Kento almost looks…sheepish. “What I meant was- might you be disengaged to…” Staring right at you, hypnotic. “-join me?”
“…What?”
“Of course, it would be no trouble at all if you can not spare a moment, I should be happy to merely converse with you.”
It slips out- “Th-that’s madness. All those ladies-in-waiting-”
Then he’s clasping your hands, he’s pressing the invitation in- but, more importantly, he’s holding you. “And yet, I would like nothing more than the pleasure of your company.” Close. Too close. His breath wafts your lips, “I hope this is not too forward of me. But should you let yourself, trust that I will take care of everything, My Lady.”
And just as soon as you think he’ll kiss you - how uncouth (though, you admittedly wouldn’t complain) - he bends at the waist to gently grasp your hand.
“Everything.” Whispering a soft kiss into the back, Nanami lingers his lips - his gaze - for a long while. “I await eagerly for your word.”
He’s gone almost as softly, and sweetly, as he’d appeared.
Taking with him the scent of golden caramel, and the racing beat of your heart. You swear you’d have been stuck within the alcove staring behind his muscular back until nightfall had it not been for Shoko.
“So…” She plasters a wry smile once you’re turning her way, invitation trembling in your grip. And you’re noticing that upon its envelope dazzles swooping calligraphy of your name, almost certainly written by him. “Would you prefer ‘Your Gracefulness’ or ‘Duchess Nanami’?”
.
.
.
Dearest gentle reader,
The ton is abuzz as her majesty the Queen’s Royal Diamond Ball nears closer. And the sole heir to the house of Nanami is certainly no exception.
This author hears directly from a reputable source within her highness’s Chamberlain Office that Duke Nanami Kento was uncharacteristically fastidious in securing himself an extra invitation. Most claim this as confirmation of his grace’s dedication to finding a bride, most also claim they’d seen the aforementioned, infamous chambermaid being handed it.
Take care of artifice; but such intrigue of a commoner attending the most prestigious ball of the year may be much more than my readers may be able to bear.
So, ladies, grab your finest gowns and shortest shawls to make haste for a chance to snag the eligible bachelor’s heart once and for all this season! And I shall, of course, be in attendance to report on all the scandals that unfold.
Yours Truly,
Lady Whistledown.
.
.
.
“I look…”
“Enchanting.” Utahime nods.
“I was thinking more toad-eaten.” You have to mentally remind yourself to close your maw and do your very best not to gape at the reflection in the decadent mirror displayed in front of you.
Despite your words, even you couldn’t deny that the deep, sapphire-encrusted gown you were donning made you look every bit the noblewoman that you weren’t. Its Empire waist snugly crowning the flowing muslin, sleeves fashionably puffed, with tasteful gold jewelry that you wouldn’t have so much as dared to look at let alone be dolled-up into.
It was made for you.
Quite literally. Utahime had been the one to write your letter of acceptance to Duke Nanami (after shrieking herself hoarse in excitement first.) And through a week of hushed conversation with his grace, the ball evening had crept up closer and you had an army of modistes and maids knocking at your servants’ quarters.
Scrubbing you raw, painting your face, slipping you into a dress he’d ordered tailored to your exact measurements- how did he even know?
Shoko had to let you use her office, and she was deriving her payment back for it by beaming at the sight of you. “And I was thinking more Duchess of the house of Nanami-”
“Cease!”
“Ah, so you observe? You are noble in all but title already.”
Whilst Shoko and Utahime - the traitors - burst out into peels of laughter, you’re left fiddling with the silken coverings of your gloves. “You…you don’t suppose he’s making a mockery out of me, after all?”
That makes them quieten down, and Utahime hugs your shoulders in a way that thoroughly displeases the attendants and their ruffles. “You shine everyone else down, my dear. He should be lucky to have such a lovely date this evening.”
“Quite so.” Shoko nods, “And should he dare fool around, I have long sought a specimen upon whom to test my latest scalpel-”
“Shoko!”
“Do let me join.”
“U-um, ehem.” The tense, honestly frightened clearing of Itadori, his protégé’s, throat cuts your morbid conversation short. And as he looks at you, the poor boy blushes- whispering something shapes strangely like a little—“Divine.”
Before you know it, you’re being escorted down the high-ceiling corridor just as you’d always watched the sisters and wives of nobility being guided so.
It’s a pathway more than familiar to you, yet seems so foreign once you approach the grand, imposing double doors opened to the ballroom. It was a magnificent thing; one of the Queen’s proudest possessions - with diamond chandeliers that dripped yellow light like a second sun, and a grand polished staircase kissing down from the doorway to a dance floor at the bottom.
Faint orchestra and chatter tainting the sparkling atmosphere, you breathe in nervously and even the flower-scented air seems too expensive for you.
Itadori hands the chief footman your invitation - something that makes the latter’s bushy eyebrows raise as he recognizes your name. And then the boy squeezes your hand before he leaves you off at the edge of the entrance, “His grace will be utterly bewitched, My Lady. He already is.”
Oh- what?
In the blink of an eye, he’s melted back into the crowd of other youngsters networking outside. And with nearly every guest already inside - you could only descend.
Down.
Down.
Down, the massive carpeted staircase- and it felt like every pair of eyes were on you. Most stopping mid-dance. Some whispering behind their fans.
And one, Nanami Kento, staring at you breathless and awestruck where he’d been politely conversing with the Queen herself, and a gaggle of entranced admirers. But he only had eyes for you.
Almost frozen. Almost shocked-
Enough so that your satin-covered feet were just a few steps away from reaching down to the marble ballroom floor before you’re thinking of turning right back around and running-
“You.” A hand on your wrist, a soft pair of lips on the back of your hand. Nanami Kento had broken through just about every rule of aristocracy to storm through packs of nobles and catch your wrist before you escaped.
And when he kisses you, it felt like he was finally breathing for the first time after years. “I had- I had not dared to hope that you would truly appear.” Staring at you through thick, golden lashes as he bends deeper into a bow. “You have honored me with the presence of the most beautiful lady to ever grace these floors.”
Languidly, you’re twisting your body back to face him - to face the crowd - and the way that the distracted orchestra has to begin their slow quadrille from the top, several teary debutantes looking between you and Nanami before shoving their faces into their fans, and even Lord Naoya was casting great attention.
Muttering.
‘Might I inquire as to that lady? Does she have prospects-’
‘Do tell- is it true what Lady Whistledown’s paper said- Bollocks! I wanted to bed Duke Nanami.’
‘My, the chambermaid? The scandal! Oh, but they are a most remarkably striking pair…’
You’re gasping when you catch a glimpse of her highness shifting on her throne to peer over curiously. Nanami had authority- but this?
Gulping, “Is this…is this folly really alright?”
“Oh, My Lady.” He fixes you with a lingering look, “For you, nothing would be folly. May I have this dance?”
.
.
.
“M-mmm, Your Grace-”
“What did I tell you, My Lady?” Nanami’s hot, simmering pant tingles your lips as he’s lavishing you with the swirling edge of his tongue. “Call me Kento.”
And you didn’t have any reason not to.
Well, first of all you two were far, far from any of the prying eyes of the ball by now - tucked away inside the empty, luxurious royal office allocated to him by the Queen. And then he had you pushed against the corner of the wide mahogany table in the middle- hands fisted into your gown, mouth searing against yours.
Nanami flicks the slimy edge of his tastebuds between your spit-glossed maw and groans once you’re eagerly sucking. Gasping. Heaving. “O-open your mouth.”
You’d just made the stern, stoic Duke Nanami stutter. And the thought itself is enough for you to knit your brows together and unhinge your jaw even further, “Like this?”
“Wider.”
“Mmm- like-” A glittery ribbon of saliva slicks down the corner of your lips the moment he’s parting his plump, puckered mouth and kissing you in a way you’d never even heard of. “-this?”
So primal. So heated. He’s huffing out a clouded breath through his flared nostrils, and you’re all but melting with each sleazy scour of his tongue.
“Yeah, wider. Lest I be thought ungentlemanly-” With a thumb latching onto the point of your chin, he has one hand angling your face, and the other curving ‘round your waist to support your weakening knees easily. “Suck on my tongue, ma’am.”
Kissing you and kissing you like he’s parched and every drop of sweet, syrupy water was just drooling from your mouth.
Your whirling head barely even realizes when Nanami has you softly falling back onto the frigid surface of the table. Splayed out completely. His beefy forearm eases the impact, mouth decorating with a few strings of spittle when he’s pulling back with a dampened pwah!
Lungs still clouding out in scorching breezes, “If you would allow it, My Lady.” And you’re whimpering when the doughy mountain of his palm comes rovering down your front. Not resting for a split-second until it was right between your poor legs- “I confess, not a morsel crossed my lips throughout the ball- and I find myself quite famished.”
You’re gasping, trying to close your legs- but it’s like his palm was glued to your drivelling core. Hungry. Desperate. “B-but it is beneath your touch to do such a thing-”
“You’re never beneath my touch.” You swear you catch him look down at your clothed cunt and gulp. Fawny irises dark and dilated, “Never.”
And almost as if he’s proving his point, his free, left hand clasps around your own and flies down gingerly to the absolutely massive bulging tenting Nanami’s trousers.
Oh.
He groans.
Oh.
And he’s looking at you through narrowed, predatory eyes- words so gentle even though the way the thick cylindrical curve of his erection was anything but. “See how you make me?” And with a teary nod, your hips find themselves bucking- “Witness how you- ah.”
Rutting.
So carnally, with your gown and chemise falling back, it makes Nanami snap his half-lidded eyes down at you like he’d just stumbled upon a five-course meal. A predator blood-thirsty for prey.
Drooling in a thin, slow trail, he hastily wipes it away like a gentleman. He wasn’t just famished - he was starved.
And by the way his touch shakes ever-so-slightly on your body, it’s a damn miracle that he hasn’t just lost it right now. “We wouldn’t want to waste your talents on just my hand, ma’am.”
Before you can even begin to wonder what his cryptic words meant, Nanami’s making use of the years of his noble training in combat.
Flipping your two positions, laying himself out on the far table, clinging onto your squirming waist to seat you right above his heavily respiring mouth. With your chemise tugged off with one hand, he’s stealing a good look at your naked, geysering pussy and moaning–
“I-I really am quite famished.”
And his voice breaks.
Making you jerk your hips in a slight gyration- unsure where to rest. “Wh-what are you going to- oh.” Whimpering, once he’s planting a firm kiss near the inner parts of your thighs where slick travelled like an adhesive sheen. Only pushing your gown to bunch upwards, “Please!”
“I shall be having my dinner, My Lady.” Lurching you ever-closer, he had your knees straddling each side of his face and it still wasn’t close enough. “Bon appétit.”
All five of his coarse fingerpads digging into the cheeks of your ass, he flicks his wrist and drags you straight into the gaping cavern of his maw. His glistening tongue was propped out just right to spank the surface of your pussylips on his tastebuds.
“A-ah.” Thighs trembling, it feels so strangely and erotically wet with him salivating all over.
He feels a slippery splosh of your juices leak from your slit and straight into his gullet, the creamy taste flooding up his tongue. “O-ohhh–” Savoring. “Has anyone ever made you feel like hah- this?”
“N-not at all, Your Gr-”
“Kento.”
“K-Kento–!” It’s all that you can squeal when the flexible tendril of his muscle crowns your hole and you’re seeing stars. His tongue is just so long n’ girthy that it makes your poor, filthy entrance clench when he’s slipping just an inch inside. “Fuck- n-ngh- fuck–!”
“Charmed you’re enjoying, ma’am.” And he sounds so genuinely elated - breathy, shaken - at the pretty moans falling from your mouth like music.
Though, it’s not enough.
It might never be enough, so the duke can only prop up slightly on one of his strong elbows just to angle his mouth into the perfect French kiss with your cunt. Slapping his tongue right over the puffy folds of your pussy, he’s licking and licking each stray bead of slick bubbling out of you until you’re all tender and glossy.
Only then is he wafting his right thumb vertically down your cute slit, “Though, not to overwork my dear lady- but might you mind lending me a…hand?”
You’re snapping your head down so fast that your chin knocks against your heaving chest, “Wh-what do you need, Your- ah, Kento?”
“Oh, nothing much, my darling. Just…” Tilting his head, Nanami’s rendering you stupidly dizzy each time he twists the callused knob of his thumb in and out of your folds. “Spit in my mouth.”
“Wh-would that be appropriate?” He was filthy.
Feral. “I would love nothing more.”
And he meant it- he truly, completely, and utterly meant it. You’re watching his prominent Adam’s apple bob greedily once the bead of pearly saliva bubbles between your lips and dead-on into his mouth. Only swirlin’ inside for a mere second before spitting right back into your polished cunt. Hard.
Letting the fat wad slip between your lips, and Nanami doesn’t waste a single second before pushing his rugged middle finger inside your hole.
“There we go.” Gazing in pure lecherous wonderment at the way your needy ring of muscle was swallowing him up, every single solid inch right down to his mountainous knuckle. What a tight fit. “There- there, atta girl.”
“It just feels so- ngh- so-” You don’t even know how to control yourself, hips jerking back and forth, back and forth, back and forth until the globes of your ass strike his chin and make you keen. “Ah!”
“Eeeeeasy does it, ma’am.”
And he’s still grunting your name out with that title- even as he’s pryin’ apart your bloated lips and sticking in yet another digit. The fat ends of his index swiping across, engraving his family signet ring against your very walls-
“This is only a prelude, darling.” You’re flinching at the chilling scrape of the band on his second finger, and he grins. Glueing that very grin against your throbbing clit, he spits again- “Only just getting started.”
“Fuck- fuck!” Going against every policy you’d learned in polite society, you’re throwing your hips back and gyrating out looong sloppy drags of your cunt.
Straight from the treacly base of your pussy to where Nanami was nuzzling your sensitive clit with his nose. Again. And again and again- the duke’s kiss-bitten lips were burning and he’s still craning his neck for more. Panting, “Make a mess of me, My Lady. S’what I’m hah- here for.”
“N-ngh, it feels so gooood, Kento.”
And you don’t even have any inhibitions about that little slip-up of titles anymore, back arching into a perfect curvy ‘S’ shape at the way he’s salivating all over your pussy.
Rovering the ridged edges of his tongue in a cutesy lil’ heart over your clit, pressing down just enough pressure on it like a button. And it’s exactly what he needs to make you gasp, your hole winking- so that he can easily slide-slide-sliiide a third finger in with a resonating squelch!
“So wet. So divine.” He’s groaning at the sight of you suckling in on him and all his inches. Fitted in so deeply that your orifice is struggling to even squeeze, thighs clamping over his sweaty temples. Feeling inside you. Searching. “I must ask that you ruin me, darlin’. Ride me faster.”
Thighs aching, breaths shortening. His metal glasses thump the scorching front of your cunt and you whine.
“Faster.”
“P-pleeease!”
It’s like he’s ravaging your pussy with his thrusts, blond brows furrowing in so tight as he’s leaning in even closer. Tuggin’ apart your folds, he’s discovering every sleek, leaking inch of your cunt like he didn’t have enough time. Never would.
And it’s with only spank after spank of his metallic ring that he’s somehow skidding it right down your saccharine walls and directly into your g-spot. “H-here.”
“There.” Even with the kaleidoscope of tears dazzling your vision, you can make out the completely pussydrunken grin that smears across his face.
Rutting up against the swollen slope of your pussy, he laps up every sodden ounce of slick that escapes you once he hits his slimy target. “With greater fervour now, My Lady.” Your throat clogs up every time he reels his fingerpads down to the curvaceous edges and slams back in. “Harder-”
You grip onto the straight ends of his deltoids, flexing with muscular strength. “I-I’m not sure if that is possible-”
“Do not be gentle with me.” And it almost sounds like a command. Though he’s acting upon it like it’s a complete beg- swerving his palm to sticky clammily onto your left ass cheek and pushing you. “Let yourself hah- go. Give me all of you, I beg.”
You had the most powerful, stoic duke of all the season begging.
And he needed it- he was toying with the lacy circle of your garter and snapping it down onto your flesh with a flick of his fingers.
Only to make you wetter.
So wet with sappy, meady slick that he’s gulping down like his favorite liquor- splashing down between his lips and making him more n’ more inebriated by the second.
Glasses still on. Pumping his hips up into the empty air, all he could do was fuck his fingers into your hotly-glossed walls and pretend he’s doing it all with his aching cock. “Do you think you can handle a fourth, darling?”
Gasping, “P-perhaps-”
“Then…brace yourself…”
You couldn’t brace yourself. You couldn’t even intake a steady breath even if you tried.
Because while you’re perching your dripping pussy near the line of his straight nosebridge, Nanami’s slipping in the coiled edge of his lengthy tongue. Not his fingers. His tongue.
In addition to all he was rummaging your melty insides with, he swabs over the texture of his tastebuds down where you were the most delicate and strokes his tongue inside—
“Sh-shit- shit shit shit-” Your mouth juts out into such an adorable pout that makes the man beneath you thrusts his rugged hips upwards. “I-I think I’m…close, Kento.”
“S’that so? Gonna cum?”
So difficult to even breathe when he’s strobing his fingertips down your bulging g-spot, already battered and bruised with the slamming impacts. With the way he swats the side of your thighs stinging with your garter, “Mhm—hck!”
Probin’ every velvety nook and cranny with his touch, Nanami can’t have you on his weeping cock so he’s twisting all his three- now four fingers, and his tongue inside until his wrist aches. His jaw strained. Tastebuds raw, just as much as your pussy was.
“The orchestra is playing, you can be as loud as your heart desires. Say the words, ma’am- I beg of you to please just hah! say the words.”
It makes your vulnerable lips tremble just to formulate the next few scandalous words, never before having been so fucked-out. “Y-yes. Yes, please. Gonna…cum.”
And you swear that the ever-sensible Nanami Kento is gurgling out a wet giggle right between the space of your puffy pussylips, sending white-hot shockwaves down your bowed spine. “I would be-” He wetly gasps out, before slapping his handsome features right back down.
Addicted. He can’t even move.
“I would- hah- I would be quite-” And his spectacles dig in deep until the metal surface sizzles against your core, pushing and pushing himself back. His tongue’s going wild, stirring around with the wettest slurps. “I would be quite offended if you didn’t, my love.”
He doesn’t just mutter the words - he’s biting them right ‘round the perky knob of your clit. Teething his glinting canines just hard enough while he’s slipping his tongue back out - right on time, right at the very second to tastefully receive the way you throw your head back and squirt.
Hot. Hard.
It feels like your entire body’s caught on fire and no matter how much you’re slobbering your hips to the front n’ back, it only makes the sensation worse.
Your eyes water, mouth hanging open stupidly. “Yes- yes yes yes yes- I’m cumming-” Thighs trembling down upon either side of his eardrums at the friction- tight, and he doesn’t even care. “I-I’m cumming.”
“Squirting, My Lady.” Nanami corrects you, gently. Though, it’s a fucking miracle he even had the patience to considering that he’s gasping and panting for air but only pushin’ himself closer to the oodles of cute slick seeping out from you.
He doesn’t even care.
Doesn’t even need air- not when he can perk his head just right and push against your thighs. Wide maw unfastened gluttonously ajar to let the thick trickles of sap drip into his mouth after each zap! of bliss. Drowning him.
Mouth sagging further open, lungs screaming at him. So many bucketloads of syrupy sweet sap that sprays his features until they’re all glittery. “Squirt- oh. You’re- ngh-”
And something’s breaking at the back of his throat when he’s roaming his dexterous, looong tongue between the plumpness of your pussylips, and you’re taking him in so easily.
Overstimulated till you can let off only whines n’ sobs when he’s lazily dabbing his way inside your quivering hole.
“I’m so ruined, Kento.” Riding and riding. He wanted you to use him and you were- “It feels s-so strange.” The peak of your high was one big wave, and it tingles underneath your skin and makes your eyes roll.
Never - even during all those long, lonely nights with your hand slipped underneath the covers - did it ever feel like this. Never were you leaking your essence this much, with your sappy juices falling all down the sides of his rosy red lips. “Never f-felt this ngh- way before, Ken.”
And that makes him groan.
Slowly, gingerly - almost like it hurt for him to detach his hungry lips with yours, he’s pulling you off with one hand stuck to your hips. Surging backwards with- no, he can’t surge backwards.
The duke’s planting one more firm kiss onto your cunt, open-mouthed. And then jerking back- and forth. Another kiss. Another repeat until about five times later and he’s finally ready to say goodbye to your sweet, overspilling pussy.
But he’s not done with his little show- oh, the moment you’re finally spying a good, long look at him, you think you might cum again from just that.
Because Nanami Kento was ruined - blond hair astray, spectacles drooping down his nose, your pussy juices worn all over from the apples of his blushin’ cheeks down to his jawline like a lewd medal.
Waterfalling between the curves of his pectorals, gleaming wherever his pale skin was flushed. He looked as if there was a part of him that was feverish - barely even registering what he’s doing once he’s tugging off his slick-glazed glasses and sucking those pearly beads off of the frame.
Licking his completely wet glasses clean, Nanami tilts his head with a grin like he’s never been more accomplished. “I only live to please you, ma’am.”
“But that’s not fair.” You huff out a stubborn breath, shuffling down his tall body to try and cup the bulging outline between his legs that almost looked painful. “I, too, wish to-”
“Tonight is not the night, I’m hah- afraid.” He’s cleanly cutting off both your plea and your palm. Instead bringing up your shaky hand to kiss the inside of your wrist. Gloves off, his eyes primal and dead set on you. “I could never ask you to get on your knees. Tonight, I only ask that you let me drive you wild, darling. Let me devour you whole.”
And he meant it.
Oh, within sultry seconds Nanami was moving himself off of the tabletop and standing adjacent. Tall. Strong. Not letting you lift a single finger before he loops two hands underneath your thighs and draaaags you to the very edge.
Moistened thighs pasting to his obliques, “Pray, allow me to see to it. To everything.”
And you just wanted to rip the gossamer fabric of your dress off, but Nanami was oh-so-delicate with his hands all over you. Even though he’s fitting himself animalistically between your lewd legs and rutting-
“Why-” His breath catches once your petticoat and stocking are peeled off, both thumbs spreading your swollen pussylips like a lotus. Completely exposed now. “-hello, my love.”
Your mouth parts when you’re realizing that he’s not just talking to you- he’s talking to your cunt. Maw stretched into a smile so utterly lovin’, Nanami keeps that same dopey grin on as he’s leering his face down to spit.
Again.
“Please, Kento.” You’re bucking your hips up impatiently, still shaky with the aftershocks of your high but you wanted more more more. Needed it. “P-put it in.”
He groans- oh, was it him that taught your sweet mouth to say those words. Corrupting you with every second he’s drawing soppy circles on your wet outer pussy, the duke can only tear down his dress coat and his trousers. Careful with yours but he was ripping his own clothes off. “As you wish, my darling.”
It’s just then that he’s finishing tugging down his sensually tight breeches—and you’re drinking in all of him. And fuck- was it a sight only for your most light-skirted dreams.
Because Nanami Kento was naturally chiseled, to the point where you could count each of his eight washboard abs. Every dip and muscular curve of his hardened front just tensed when the cool air hit him, leading a path of gold along his middle.
A light happy trail down, down, down to where his red n’ aching cock sat heavily, so hard that his bulging tip looked just about ready to burst. Eight maybe even nine inches long, and so girthy that it made your mouth drop as if you wanted him fitted inside already.
You’re watching as his pre-glazed tip only coats an even more glistening layer of sap at your sinful attention. Trickling all the way down to his tightening balls, “You’re staring—”
“C-can you blame me?”
“I suppose not.” And the warmth of his towering proximity hits your body like a furnace, making you squirm restlessly when Nanami’s leaning over the edge of the table to tap-tap-tap his thick cockhead down between your legs. Rock-hard. “Brace yourself, ma’am, mhm?”
Then he’s splitting you apart-
And then he’s arching his sculpted shoulders to cage you underneath him and swearing–“Fuck.”
The first time ever that you’re hearing him spew profanities, just barely slipping the pointed globe of his shaft past the texture of your tight, hot cunt was ruining him.
“I-I apologize, My Lady.” It was making him gasp, “I apologize, how uncouth of my character. I didn’t mean to-” It was making him urgently snap his head down in panic and watch with primal awe as he ruts- deeper. “F-fuck!”
“Oh my god-” You’re throwing your head back at the pressure, only to be grappled back in by Nanami just so that he can sliiide his lips across yours. Open-mouthed. “H-how are you going in so deep-”
“I cannot help myself.” Grunting, Nanami doesn’t even feel the stinging pain when he’s slamming his capped knee down on the plane of the desk. Angling his slender hips to shove the slimy crown of his tip into your gooey entrance, “It’s simply- it’s just-”
And Nanami Kento, so articulate and calm, doesn’t have the damn words anymore.
Stuttering, falling over his panic to thrust in and in between your trembling legs. He feels the cute rimming circle of your cunt tighten ‘round his fattened girth, and snaps his head down in panic. Spitting. “I-I must have it fit inside, darling. Please, allow me just the tip, at least.”
“Will- ngh! will it even-”
“Of course.” And he’ll apologize for interrupting your sentence later - much, much later.
But for right now, the only thing that sparks in his fuzzy mind was to raise his toned left forearm up to your drivelling maw. Where you start gnawing wetly down on his skin, he spits-
“Bite down. Harder.” Hips sloppy, knee hiking up even further to maze his flared cock inside. You feel your elastic hole stretch a wider diameter as he’s slipping yet another solid inch in. “Come now, harder. You can ngh- take it.”
“It’s going in.” And you don’t know whether you wanted to slam your hips forwards or jerk vulnerably at the sheer weight of his body leaning down.
He breathes, “Yes- yes.” The breeze of his pants fanning your face, making your entire body erupt in flames by the time he’s squeezing past the tender slit carved onto his shaft. Cementing the bulging edge of his cocktip to the roof of your pussy with a raw sluuurp. “I have you. shall not let you fall- bite.”
And it’s all that you can do.
Because Nanami’s fucking you into office table like he wanted you to splinter straight through.
The half-lidded peripherals of his eyes latching onto where you were speared open like he was watching his personal show, “I hope you know…I’m no- hah- easily satiated man, my love.”
“Wh-what do you- fuck!”
Just on cue, he’s slamming the lines of his hardened hipbones against your inner thighs and making you recoil back near the edge of the table. Dangerously. Barely even giving you a second to pick yourself back up before he reaches over to lace both his rugged palms on top of your clammy scalp. Intertwining. Holding you there.
‘Just the tip’ he said. And yet here he was, pinning you down just to bully his vein-covered length between your snugly stubborn lips.
“Do not think to run from me-”
“Could never- ngh- could never-” You’re babbling easily at this point, because the curvy trails that his veins left along your walls were only driving you mad. “Just want more, Kento.”
“…Pardon?”
You blink your teary eyes up at him in a way that makes his throbbing girth fatten up, every ounce of blood in the duke’s head rushing to the ballooned-up knob of his tip. “M-more, I say-”
“More.” He’s echoing out, more to himself. Higher-pitched. Almost tasting the pure need in that one word, and the very repetition makes him half-thrust straight into the goopy depths of your pussy. “More…more.”
Nanami pants out a husky giggle—“More.” Oh, he’s just so in love with the way your cunt was struggling to swallow him whole n’ yet squeezing as you try. He leans back down and spits once more, thoroughly ungentleman-like. “Forgive my haste. You just m-make- me-”
And you swear you hear the tail end of that particular sentence break off into a whine once he’s finally, finally bottoming out.
So sensitive that all it takes is one, two, three lucious swabs of his drivelling orifice to get you to cum. Throat torn with hoarse moans, head throwing back- “I’m- once more…?”
“F-fuck. You are.” Easing in the girth of his cockhead to be spanked against your cervix and make you see stars. Nanami’s already flooding your pussy with a pour of his scalding hot precum. “What a wonder this enchanting body is for me.”
Again. He has you orgasming all over him again.
He’s feeling just a twinge of disappointment in himself for not making you squirt yet another time- but the night was still young. And your sappy cunt was already so wet, with beads of sparkly juices smearing down his happy trail every time he’s whipping his hips forwards.
Slam after slam.
Your entire body twitches with startles of euphoria, mewling. “Th-there’s so much- so- ah.”
Ah, how he would love to reach his hands over and wipe away the glistening tears streaming down your pretty face.
But no, right now he had them locked on top of your head and was using the leverage to pound you stupid. Harder. Spiking the peaks of your high with each thorough probe of his stout, mushroom tip. “I know. I know I know I-”
CRACK!
Oh.
The desk.
It takes a split-second for both your hazed minds to realize that the ancient mahogany table was sagging on one end, Nanami’s raw natural strength too much for it to handle. And then not even that for him to pull out his cock with a wet plop!
Manhandling you down onto the hardwood floors like a doll, on all fours. It’s such a sinfully new angle to have him looming behind you, tense core plastered against your back once his lengthy cock siiiinks in-
Orgasm still dwindling, entire body shaking. “Fuck- nghhh- fuck, Kento–!”
“You are doing so well, darling.” One hand glues onto the side of your left ass cheek and tugs you back down with his grip. The other carefully rovers just underneath your tummy, “M-makes it so easy to wish to hah- give away to my inclinations.”
A primal sob wrenches from your throat when you’re feeling the slimy drag of his globular, pointed tip. Drawin’ out a zig-zag down and down where you were most delicate, until he reaches the target of your cervix, spank! “Th-then proceed- I beg of you.”
You didn’t know what those guttural words would mean. You didn’t even know if you would make it out alive- but right now you’re starting to doubt it once Nanami gasps.
Once he’s slamming one of his flattened feets by the side of your thigh, deeper. The raw, sensual feeling so much that he can’t control himself. Rutting and rutting away as if he’s gone feral—
“Is this to- to your liking then, ma’am?” The duke’s gurgling out through a translucent froth of spittle, splat-splattering right down the middle of your arched spine. “H-how about now?”
He shutters his eyes furiously and rams the remaining few inches of his cock. Bottomed out and still trying to probe even deeper inside, so all he can do is plant his sock-covered foot over the top of your head and press. Bending. “N-now?”
Proudly, Nanami dares to snicker as his left thumb brushes down the plump, roaming tummy bulge he was fucking into you. Pushin’ down just on the curvy tip of where you could feel his split-ended cockhead thrashing your poor insides. “And I should love to hah! make this gorgeous cunt mine- make you mine.”
And he was a man of action.
It was high time you realized that, because within exactly three repeated swats of his plummy, rose-colored shaft- he’s discovering your g-spot. He’s kissing that bullseye with a looong, soppy glide.
“Though…that is what I am doing, that should be no hngh- sham.”
Feeling all the crimson rush to your head, he presses down just as his aching hot cock presses in. “It’s- it’s just- fuck.”
Faster. Harder. So sloppy that the planks of the floorboards start to sing out in singing creaks of protest, soiling with a trickle of syrupy precum and slick being poured from straight between your legs. Constantly.
Rubbing himself swollen n’ redly raw on the cavern of your tight pussy, Nanami doesn’t even want to blink to break his staring contest with your bulging pussylips.
Milking himself.
The sweetest smooch for your sweetest spot, Nanami coos as you shake- struggling to keep your weakened arms straight as you hold yourself up in this lecherous position. “Come now.” Your overstimulated vision spots with pure white as he darts the hand at your stomach to loop around your throat like a necklace - a headlock. Springing you upright—“I have you, My Lady.”
Spittle waterfalls in embarrassing bucketloads from your mouth and stains the front of his beefy forearm, squeezing your airway. Dilated pupils swirlin’ stupidly every time his strawberry divot circles the entrance to your womb. Squealing, “Y-you…ngh!…mm–”
“Hmmm—?”
“You- hck! please, Ken-”
His warm, ravaging cock was so big that the constant stretch of your walls finally had you stupid. Your brain nothing but a pulp of melted mush every time he snaps his clammy hips to your ass with a stinging pap! of skin-on-skin.
“Me…I’m-” And it’s like each time the puffy veins decorating each side of his overworked shaft gets squeezed, Nanami finds himself seeing stars. Sweaty, bulging biceps tightening on your throat even harder- you scream. “I have you, My Lady- I’m yours.”
Your hole gaping, thighs wet. Just taking everything he’s giving as he finally cums—and you do, too.
Though, you’re not registering it at first.
Not when that leaky hole at the very end of his cherry-red shaft pipes out a creamy icing of cum, layering thickly across every inch and cranny of your rummaged insides. Pump after pump- each one has your pathetic pussy overspilling with so many knotted wads of seed, and yet he always had so much more more more-
“O-oh.” He’s grunting out, feeling a particularly big splash of sap at the base of his cock- and it’s only then that you’re both realizing that you’d just squirted. All over again.
It’s traveling down like a flood between your thighs, painting a glistening ring on the tawny curls at his hilt. Soaking him utterly n’ completely that Nanami finds each thrust to let off the most primal sluuuurp!
“You- you really are the most beautiful hck! lady that has graced this Earth, my love.” Your gaze, your smile, that soul. It was your soul he found most beautiful, the instant he laid his eyes upon you.
He simply knew.
“Y-yet, I’m a chambermaid-”
“I care not.”
“You’re just-” It’s a damn wonder that you even could still speak by now, because every rubbin’ massage of his fat cock only left your mind blank. “-saying- mmm- saying that, Kento.”
“I fear you are mistaken.”
His veins indent your walls with lightning bolts, his cum cobwebbed across your spongy cervix and was splashing after each jackhammer.
Nanami drills into you low and slow now just to help your dripping wet cunt suck him dry. Loving the cute, velvety way you were clamping around his rovering shaft tiredly, “Only allow me to prove my ngh- heart.”
You’re so fucked-out that you’re barely even flinching when he’s finally freeing you of his sinful headlock. Taking mere nanoseconds to pluck that infamous House of Nanami signet ring off of his finger- and pushing it straight down the ring finger on your left.
An engagement. A promise.
“I shall get you another ring- one that is proper, one you deserve, when- if you shall have me, My Lady.” The smoky tone of Nanami Kento’s bass tickles the side of your stinging throat, almost a purr. “I swear it upon my word-” He guides that very same boneless hand of yours to cup his plush, thumping left pectoral. “-and my heart, to forever keep you the most beautiful lady upon this Earth. You shall never want, for I pledge to you my body, my soul for your happiness.”
You whimper, thighs still shaking with your high. Tears slipping down your face that he kisses away, “I-if you’ll have me, Your Grace.”
“Kento.”
“Kento.”
And by the time the last of his wadded ounces of cum had finished spraying out, Nanami pulls his hips back with a bellowing squelch that makes your body heat flare. Such a creamy mess of ivory glossing your pussylips that he’s taking one glimpse at and gasping-
You mewl, “K-Ken, what are you-”
“It seems…” He drawls, manhandling you spread-out onto your back with his sculptured hands. Snaking his face down to mouth a hot puff over your swollen folds that stick together. Tasting. Drooling like he’d just happened across his favorite dessert. “-that the ball is far from finished, my wife.”
.
.
.
Dearest gentle reader,
It seems we have a rather special (and scandalously romantic!) special announcement. Yes, whilst your lips were whispering at her majesty the Queen’s Royal Diamond Ball the previous night, those of his grace, Duke Nanami Kento, have certainly been up to worse.
The ton reached new heights of hysteria over Duke Nanami’s attendance of the ball with his lovely chambermaid acquaintance. This author personally confirms that her highness’s royal orchestra was barely audible over the sound of shattering hearts!
However, if this was where the story ended, dear readers, we would still possess our wits. Not only had her highness titled this unnamed belle of the ball as the Diamond of the season; aforementioned diamond was not in audience of her naming!
Where was she, you might ask? Why, nowhere else but bedding a certain handsome duke—or so palace patrol whisper amongst the halls.
An impatient dalliance or stirring the pot? You tell me, dear reader, though it certainly doesn’t help that said new diamond was spotted near the end of the evening with both a real diamond and the Nanami signet ring upon one’s betrothal finger!
It’s said that the House of Nanami - and particularly a once-stoic Duke Nanami Kento - has been exceptionally lively in preparation for the blessed union and his new bride.
On the other hand, this author shall have to purchase new robes for a summer wedding.
Yours Truly,
Lady Whistledown.
A/N. Tell me why it was SAUR difficult to write in regency speak I feel like I don’t even know this language anymore pls-
synopsis. caleb made a mistake when interpreting the anonymous threatening note, and so did you in thinking you can change a code-backed destiny.
pairing. caleb xia x isekai’d! non-mc! reader
content. fem!reader, non-mc!reader, isekai’d!reader, reincarnation!au, unrequited love (?), a ton of angst, slowburn (caleb’s not really here), hurt/no comfort (?), maybe ooc!caleb, caleb doesn’t know you’re isekai’d, TW: EVER, TW: allusion to TORTURE, medical malpractice, degradation (the ever guy mocks you), evil plan incoming, self-deprication, low self-esteem, TW: allusion to CAR ACCIDENT.
word count. 5.1k
a/n. i finally got around proofreading this! sadly i had to divide it into two (or more) parts. thanks to @hajimeowmeow and the brilliant prompt that generated all this! i hope you all enjoy my take on this. please let me know your thoughts! feedback and reblogs are deeply appreciated.
the rain in skyhaven was a particular kind of mournful. it didn’t fall so much as it seeped, a constant, misty drizzle that blurred the neon signs into weeping watercolor smears against the grim sky. from your apartment window, you watched it paint the world in shades of grey, a perfect mirror to the hollow ache that had taken up permanent residence in your chest.
your fingers traced the cold glass, following the path of a single, stubborn drop. it was the same path your tears had taken three weeks ago.
three weeks since caleb had left.
•••
the memory was a shard of glass in your gut. he’d stood right there, by the door, his bag slung over one shoulder, his face — the face you loved with a terrifying, all-consuming ferocity — etched with a worry that wasn’t for you.
“it’s emcee.” he’d said, voice tight, not meeting your eyes. he’d shown you the letter, the crisp, anonymous paper that felt like poison in your hands. threatening black ink: we will take what you love most. “they’re targeting her. this has ever’s fingerprints all over it. i have to go. she’s in linkon, all alone. you understand, right?”
you’d understood, of course. you’d understood with a clarity that shattered something fundamental inside you. emcee, his childhood friend, his first love, the sun around which his universe had once orbited. the girl you’d somehow, miraculously, momentarily eclipsed.
you, the isekai’d anomaly, the unexpected variable who’d charmed the hero away from the destined heroine.
or so you’d foolishly believed.
“caleb.” you’d whispered, your hand finding his, your touch pleading. “the threat… it could be ambiguous. what if it’s…?”
what if it’s me? the words died in your throat, too pathetic, too needy to voice.
he’d squeezed your hand, but it was an absent gesture, his mind already a hundred miles away in linkon, at emcee’s side. “don’t be silly. ever is after her unique evol, her potential. they’ve wanted her for years. you’re not...”
not important.
“i’ll be back as soon as this is sorted.”
he’d kissed your forehead. a kiss of duty, of distraction. not the deep, desperate kisses that used to leave you breathless against this very door. then he was gone, the click of the latch sounding like the snap of a bone.
•••
the first week was worry. the second, a slow-burning anxiety. the third… the third was the quiet, suffocating descent of doubt. your calls became less frequent, his answers clipped, always with her in the background. you could hear her laugh sometimes, bright and familiar, a sound that used to bring you joy but now felt like a twist of the knife.
“hey, can’t talk long.” he’d say, voice lowered, a tinge of irritation in his tone. “she’s… she’s really scared. i have to be here for her.”
who’s being here for me? you’d scream inside your own mind as you hummed and hung up the call.
the apartment, once a cozy nest of shared moments, now felt like a museum of your own naivety. you knew you had no place in caleb’s life. heck, you had no place in this world, but something gave you hope.
that hope seemed to have been misplaced.
•••
you were brushing your teeth, staring at your own hollow-eyed reflection in the bathroom mirror, when the lights flickered and died. not just yours — the entire building plunged into an unnatural, swallowing darkness.
the hum of the city outside vanished, replaced by a silence so profound it rang in your ears.
your heart jumped into your throat. power surge, you tried to tell yourself. city grid issue.
but the air changed.
it grew cold, sterile, smelling of antiseptic and something dangerous — something like charged metal, like the air before a lightning strike. you stumbled out of the bathroom, your bare feet cold on the floorboards.
a soft, blue light emanated from your living room. not the warm glow of a screen, but a cold, clinical luminescence. two figures stood there, clad in sleek, black uniforms with a single, stark insignia on their chests: ever.
your breath hitched, frozen in your lungs.
“subject located.” one of them stated, the voice filtered, genderless, and devoid of any inflection. it was the sound of a machine confirming a command.
a whimper escaped your lips, dry and pathetic. you took a stumbling step back, your shoulder hitting the doorframe of the bathroom. the cold of the wood seeped through your thin sleep shirt.
they’re here for me.
the realization didn’t dawn; it detonated.
it wasn’t a suspicion anymore. it was a truth, sharp and jagged, carving out your insides. the letter, the threat... caleb had assumed. he had decided. he had looked at you, heard your unspoken fear, and dismissed it with a distracted kiss.
he had deemed emcee’s potential, her history, her place in this world’s narrative, more worthy of protection than your entire existence.
grief, black and tar-like, surged up your throat, mingling with the unpleasant taste of panic. it wasn’t just the fear of the agents, of the unknown horrors ever represented. it was the utter, soul-crushing betrayal. he wasn’t here. he was in another city, playing guardian to another, while the real threat slithered through the darkness he’d left you in.
you had been assessed and found lacking.
“stay back!” you screamed, the sound raw and ragged in the consuming quiet. you grabbed the first thing your hands found — a heavy ceramic mug from the sink, a stupid gift you’d bought together at a street fair.
you hurled it.
it was a laughable act of defiance. one agent simply shifted their head, and the mug shattered against the wall beside them, exploding into useless, dusty shards. the sound was obscenely loud.
“do not resist.” the same voice droned. “compliance minimizes discomfort.”
discomfort. the word was so chillingly clinical it snapped something inside you. pure, animal fear took over, burning away the grief for a single moment.
you turned and ran.
not towards the front door — they were between you and it. you fled deeper into the apartment, into the bedroom. a dead end. your mind was a frantic, skittering thing.
the window?
the fire escape!
you’d never used it, always complaining it was rusted shut.
you fumbled with the latch, your fingers slick with cold sweat, tearing a nail down. behind you, you heard the soft, synchronized tread of their boots on the floorboards. no urgency. they had all the time in the world.
“come on, come on!” you sobbed, yanking at the stubborn metal. it gave with a shriek of protesting iron, and the wet night air blasted in, the misty rain kissing your feverish skin. you scrambled forth, but only one leg made it out.
a strong arm wrapped itself around you, dragging you back in with force.
“ahh!”
as you turned, a third figure melted from the deeper shadow of the bedroom doorway. you hadn’t seen them enter. this one was taller, stronger, their presence a deeper chill. they moved with a predator’s grace, while the other two stood sentinel, blocking your retreat back inside.
“caleb…” you whispered, the name a broken prayer, a curse, a plea. it was all you had left. his name was the anchor to this world, to your heart, and he had let it go.
a broken sound, half-sob, half-laugh, escaped you. “he didn’t even consider it.” you breathed, more to yourself than to them. the rain mixed with the hot tears finally spilling over your cheeks. “he left me here for you.”
they closed the final distance. you swung a fist, weak, desperate, but they caught your wrist with an effortless, gloved hand. the grip was like iron, cold and unfeeling. with their other hand, they produced a small, white cloth.
the smell hit you before the cloth did — a sickly-sweet, chemical odor that clawed at the back of your throat. chloroform.
the last of your strength fled, replaced by a paralyzing horror. this was it. not a battle, not a capture, but an erasure. you would disappear from this apartment, from skyhaven, from caleb’s world, and he wouldn’t even know where to look.
he’d been searching the wrong city, protecting the wrong person.
“sleep now.”
•••
consciousness returned not as a gentle dawn, but as a violent, chemical sunrise behind your eyelids. your head throbbed, a sickening drumbeat against the inside of your skull. the sweet, cloying scent of the chloroform still lingered in your sinuses, but it was now undercut by something sharper, cleaner, and utterly repulsive — the antiseptic sting of a sterile environment.
you tried to move, and the world snapped into a brutal, fluorescent focus.
you were upright, strapped to a cold, metallic chair. thick, padded restraints bit into your wrists, your ankles, your torso, holding you in a cruel parody of an embrace. panic, cold and immediate, lanced through the lingering fog. you gasped, the sound loud in the unnerving quiet, and strained against the bindings.
they didn’t give an inch, only creaked softly, a taunt in industrial polymer.
your eyes darted, taking in the nightmare.
the room was a blinding, seamless white — walls, floor, ceiling — a void with no shadows, no corners to hide in. it felt less like a room and more like the inside of a giant, sterile egg. the only features were the swarm of medical equipment encircling you like mechanical vultures. silvery robotic arms, tipped with needles, probes, and sinister-looking clamps, were frozen in place, poised. monitors with undulating green lines and cryptic numerical readouts glowed softly. wires snaked from panels in the floor to nodes stuck to your temples, your chest, the inside of your wrists, their touch cold and alien.
where am i? the thought was a scream in the silent chamber. caleb. caleb, where are you?
but the name that had once been a talisman now felt like a boulder on your heart. the memory of his departure, the weeks of silence, the cold dismissal — it all came crashing back with the force of a physical blow.
he wasn’t coming.
he didn’t even know you were gone.
the singular door in the wall, also white and nearly invisible, hissed open.
a man in a pristine white lab coat stepped through. he was middle-aged, with thinning hair scraped neatly across his scalp and wire-rimmed glasses that reflected the room’s harsh light, hiding his eyes. he held a digital clipboard, a sleek tablet, and his fingers tapped against it with a rhythm that was both bored and precise.
he didn’t look at you at first, absorbed in his notes, as if you were just another piece of equipment in the room.
then he stopped, a few feet away, and lifted his gaze.
his eyes, when they finally met yours, were a flat, pale grey. devoid of empathy, curiosity, or even malice. they were the eyes of someone assessing a failed experiment.
“ah. subject is conscious.” he stated, his voice a dry, thin thing. “vitals are stable. elevated stress markers, of course. typical.”
“who are you?” you managed to croak out, your throat parched and raw. “what do you want with me?”
he ignored your questions, stepping closer. he reached out, not to you, but to a monitor beside your head. he adjusted a dial, and a fresh, sharp prick of pain lanced through the node at your temple. you flinched, a small, trapped sound escaping you.
“useless.” he murmured, more to his clipboard than to you. “a complete miscalculation.”
a spark of defiance, born from sheer terror, flickered in your chest. “let me go.”
this time, he looked at you. a slow, condescending smile stretched his thin lips. it was a horrible expression, devoid of any warmth.
“let you go?” he echoed, a laugh like rustling paper following the words. “and waste all the resources it took to pluck you from your dreary little apartment? the planning? the risk of deploying operatives for a null-value subject?” he shook his head, clicking his tongue.
“no, no. the waste isn’t in keeping you. the waste was in acquiring you in the first place.”
he leaned in, and you could smell the stale coffee on his breath. “you see, our intelligence — our very expensive, very precise intelligence — suggested you were a significant emotional variable for colonel xia. a leverage point. a weakness.” he snorted.
“imagine our surprise. imagine my professional embarrassment.”
your blood ran cold. “caleb…” you whispered.
“caleb.” the doctor mocked, his voice lifting to a falsetto of pathetic imitation. “oh, caleb, save me!” he dropped back into his own dry tone. “he doesn’t even know you’re here. our surveillance in linkon shows him quite… preoccupied. playing the devoted protector. buying coffee, standing guard outside a door, sharing cozy little meals. all for her. for emcee.”
each word was a needle, meticulously inserted. you could see it. you could see it with devastating clarity because you’d heard it in his distant voice on the phone. you’d felt it in his absence.
the doctor was just painting over the picture you’d already been bleeding onto for weeks.
“the plan...” the doctor continued, straightening up and resuming his tapping on the tablet. “was elegantly simple. snatch the beloved, watch the hero unravel, use his predictable, desperate attempts to rescue you to lure him into a trap. classic. effective.” he paused, his grey eyes locking onto yours with chilling finality. “it appears we snatched the wrong beloved.”
the air left your lungs in a slow, painful exhale. the room seemed to tilt. the monitors beeped a little faster, betraying your crumbling heart.
“he doesn’t love you.” the doctor said, not with cruelty, but with the utter certainty of a scientist stating a proven fact. “oh, he might have enjoyed your company. found you a pleasant distraction from his weighty, noble burdens. but love? his heart, his destiny, his purpose… it’s always been with emcee. anyone with two brain cells to rub together could see it. except you, apparently.”
tears welled, hot and shameful. you fought them, biting the inside of your cheek until you tasted blood. you wouldn’t cry in front of this man.
you wouldn’t.
“you were a placeholder.” he sneered. “a temporary distraction. you thought you could outshine a bond forged in childhood? with the way he is acting? how dumb can you be?”
dumb. naive. stupid.
the words echoed the toxic whispers that had haunted your darkest nights. he was giving voice to your deepest insecurities, the fear that had trailed you since the moment you woke up in this strange world — that you didn’t belong, that your happiness was borrowed, that you were living on stolen time.
“i love him.” you breathed, the confession torn from you, weak and pathetic.
“and what of it?” the doctor snapped, his feigned calm finally cracking into sharp irritation. “your love is irrelevant. it is a null data set. it changes nothing. it moves nothing. he is not coming. he is not looking. you are here, strapped to a chair, and he is there, holding her hand because she had a nightmare about the big bad ever.” he threw his hands up in a gesture of exasperation.
“do you comprehend the operational waste? the man-hours? i have budgets! i have timelines! and i am now left with a useless,weeping subject who is of no value as bait and of only marginal interest!”
he took a step closer, looming over you. the sterile light glinted off his glasses, turning them into white, blinding orbs. “you are a mistake. a smudge on my otherwise impeccable record. and i do not tolerate mistakes.”
the verbal punishment began in earnest, cold, analytical, and designed to flay you open.
“the only thing you have succeeded at…” the doctor mused, his voice dropping to a venomous whisper. “is wasting my time. and for that, i can assure you, there will be consequences. if i can’t use you as bait, i might as well make you my extension.”
he turned and walked back towards the door. before he left, he glanced over his shoulder, his final words delivered with chilling, surgical precision.
“you will do the only thing you're good at — watch xia from afar.”
the door hissed shut behind him, leaving you alone in the blinding, silent white hell.
the sob that finally broke free was a ragged, ugly thing, muffled by the sterile air. you strained against the restraints until your muscles screamed and your wrists burned, but it was futile. the monitors beeped on, charting the catastrophic collapse of your heart rate, your spike in cortisol, your sheer, utter despair.
“c-caleb…”
the betrayal was a cold knife, twisted deep, not just by caleb, but by your own foolish heart. you had trusted. you had believed. you had loved with the desperate fervor of someone who knew, on some level, they were living a lie.
you were alone. you had always been alone. the love you’d clung to had been a mirage, and now you were stranded in the desert, with vultures circling overhead. as you stared into the featureless white void, the only thing left was the deafening, heart-shattering sound of your own love, echoing back at you as nothing more than a worthless, wasted sigh.
•••
the white void became your world. time lost all meaning, measured only in the hum of machines, the occasional, terrifying whir of a robotic arm calibrating itself, and the slow, cold drip of nutrients and sedatives through an iv line into your arm. you drifted in a haze of chemically-induced calm, punctuated by moments of sharp, lucid agony when the reality of your situation would crash over you anew.
days? weeks? it was impossible to tell.
the doctor returned, always with his tablet, always with that look of detached assessment. he never gave you a name. he was just the scientist in your mind, the architect of your silent hell.
one session began like the others. the hiss of the door, his soft-soled shoes on the seamless floor, the glare of his glasses.
“today, we check the repurposing.” he announced, his voice devoid of ceremony. two technicians in grey scrubs flanked him, their faces obscured by masks. “the initial surveillance chip is now in place. we will establish the connection to your neural pathways.”
you thrashed against the restraints, a raw scream tearing from your throat. “no! take it out!”
he didn't even flinch.
a nod to a technician, and a cold pad was pressed against your neck. a jolt, not of electricity, but of something deeper, a neural static that scrambled your thoughts into slurry. your body went limp, your screams dying into choked gurgles.
you were conscious, but trapped in a paralyzed shell.
you felt, rather than saw, the approach of the robotic arm. it moved with a smooth, insectile grace. a low whine filled your ears, a sound that vibrated in your teeth. a pinpoint of red light appeared on your neck, between your shoulders.
it was cold.
then, the pain.
it wasn't a pain of cutting or burning. it was an invasion. a feeling of something thin, impossibly hard, and icy being threaded through the bone of your skull, into the soft, wet universe of your mind. it was a violation so profound your psyche recoiled, shattering against the walls of your own skull. you couldn't scream. you could only watch from the prison of your own body as the monitors went wild.
the scientist observed the screens, nodding with approval. “neural pathways accepting the probe. good. begin the memory cataloging. we need to establish a baseline before we start editing her memories.”
editing.
the word echoed in the hollowed-out cavern of your mind.
the invasion shifted. the cold probe became a searchlight, spearing through the dark waters of your memories. you were forced to relive them, not as a participant, but as a spectator strapped to a chair.
the memories — mostly of you and caleb — played out, one after another, a beautiful, heartbreaking film of the happiest moments of your life. each one was dissected, labeled, and filed away by the icy presence in your head. it was the ultimate humiliation; to have your most precious love story treated as data points in a lab report.
then, the probe dug deeper.
past the memories of this world, past the moment you woke up in a skyhaven clinic with no identity and a head full of knowledge about a world that shouldn't exist.
“wait!”
it plunged into a deeper, older layer.
a flash of a different sky — blue, with a yellow sun, not skyhaven’s. the sound of laughter, a mother’s voice calling a name that wasn't the one you used here. the smell of rain on dry earth, of pages in a physical book. a cramped, cozy bedroom plastered with posters of bands that didn't exist here.
the soul-crushing weight of deadlines, the glow of a phone screen late at night, the comforting escape of a game — a specific game. characters moving on a screen. a story unfolding.
caleb. pixelated, handsome, heroic. text boxes of his dialogue you’d read a hundred times. your own hands on the screen, making choices, guiding him, loving him from a distance across an impossible void.
the probe hesitated.
the scientist, who had been monitoring the data stream with an expression of bored efficiency, suddenly stiffened. he leaned forward, his eyes widening behind his glasses. the flat grey was replaced by a spark of intense, voracious curiosity.
“what is this?” he murmured. he manipulated his tablet, commanding the probe to focus, to amplify.
the memories of your past life flooded the neural feed. your death — a stupid, mundane accident, a screech of tires, a blinding impact, then nothingness. then the waking up here, in the body of a stranger, with the haunting, joyous, terrifying knowledge that the fictional world you’d loved was now your reality, and the fictional man you’d loved was flesh and blood.
the probe withdrew.
the paralyzing field released you. you sagged in the chair, gasping, tears and sweat mingling on your face. the violation was total. they had seen everything. not just your life with caleb, but your true life.
your secret.
the scientist stared at you. for a long, silent moment, the only sound was your ragged breathing and the hum of the machines. then, slowly, a smile spread across his face. it wasn't the condescending smirk from before. this was something else — awed, hungry, and deeply, deeply unnerving.
“a trans-dimensional psychic imprint. a consciousness migration. or… simpler…” he took a step closer, his eyes raking over you as if you were a newly discovered, priceless fossil. “reincarnation. with full, conscious memory retention. from a reality where our world… where colonel xia… is fiction.”
he let out a low, incredulous laugh. “astounding. the implications… the metaphysical vectors alone…”
the fear in you curdled into something new, something even colder. he wasn't just interested in you as leverage anymore. you were a specimen.
he circled your chair, his mind racing, almost talking to himself. “this explains the anomalies.” he stopped in front of you, his gaze piercing. “you knew him. before you ever met him. you loved a story, a fantasy.”
the words were a physical blow. he was taking the most profound, terrifying, and beautiful truth of your existence and reducing it to a clinical pathology.
“you fell in love with a character.” he stated, his voice dripping with a newfound, grotesque pity. “and then you were dropped into his world, and you actually believed you could step into the narrative and change the ending. you thought you could replace the heroine.”
he threw his head back and laughed, a dry, crackling sound that echoed in the white room. “oh, this is too rich. the pathetic grandeur of it! to have the knowledge of a god — the script of his life — and to still fail so spectacularly!”
“stop it.” you whispered, your voice trembling.
“stop?” he leaned down, his face inches from yours. “why? i'm finally appreciating your true value. you're not a worthless variable. you're a case study in futility. you knew every beat of his story, every trauma that shaped him, every line of dialogue that would make him open up. you had the ultimate cheat sheet. and yet…” he gestured broadly at the room, at your restraints.
“here you are. he still chose her. he still left you. your foreknowledge was worthless. your love, born from pixels and text, was no match for the gravitational pull of his code.”
each sentence was a masterfully aimed dagger, finding every hidden wound of insecurity you’d ever harbored. the fear that your love was somehow less legitimate because it began in another world. the terror that you were just an obsessed fan who got lucky.
he was weaponizing your origin story.
“you're wrong.” you choked out, but the conviction was gone.
his words had the ring of terrible truth.
“am i?” he straightened up, tapping his tablet.
a screen flickered to life on the wall.
it was a live surveillance feed, grainy but clear. a cozy linkon apartment. caleb was there, moving around a kitchen. he was smiling, a soft, easy smile you hadn't seen in months. he handed a cup of tea to emcee, who was curled on a sofa, wrapped in a blanket. she took it, her face glowing with gratitude and something more intimate. he sat beside her, not touching, but his entire body was angled toward her, a fortress of protection and care.
you couldn't look away. it was the confirmation of every nightmare.
then the screen changed to the lab… from your perspective.
“the live feed from your ocular implant is already coming in clearly too.” the scientist said conversationally. “but we need to ensure you don't… interfere. or break. so, we'll be modifying the recent memories. a few tweaks. softening the edges of your… volition. making you more accepting of your new role as our passive observer.”
horror, deeper than any you had felt yet, froze your veins. they weren't just going to watch through you. they were going to rewrite you. to make you a willing vessel.
“no… please… you can't…”
“i can.” he said simply. “but this… this changes things.” he paced again, the wheels turning. “a consciousness that has already crossed the void of death… it's uniquely malleable. resilient in one way, fragile in another. i almost wish to keep you here forever.”
“but i cant.” he stopped and looked at you, his expression shifting to one of chilling calculation. “or…?”
his eyes suddenly shone with a lightning-like luminescence, frightening and powerful.
“i mock you for your pathetic fantasy.” he said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “but what if i could make it real? not the messy, painful, rejecting reality you currently endure. but the fantasy you dreamed of when you stared at that screen.”
your breath hitched. a treacherous, desperate spark ignited in the wasteland of your heart.
a spark that shouldn’t be there.
“what… what are you saying?”
“i'm saying your knowledge of him is a database of unparalleled depth. you have it all now. every moment that made you love him. but your consciousness — your ego, your fears, your pathetic grief — it's what's failing you. it's what causes him to pull away. your human weakness, your need, your… lack of code.”
he moved to a console and brought up a schematic. it was a brain, overlaid with a glittering, synthetic neural network.
“we can integrate a code. we can build a new behavioral matrix for you. one that is optimized. one that knows exactly what to say, when to touch, how to be perfect. not a desperate, love-starved transplant from another world, but the ideal companion. programmed with the love you feel, but stripped of the neediness that repels him.”
don’t listen to him.
he turned back to you, his eyes gleaming. “we can make caleb xia love you. truly, devotedly, unconditionally. not by changing him, but by perfecting you.”
don’t listen, don’t listen, don’t–
the offer hung in the sterile air, a glittering, poisoned apple. it was everything you had ever wanted. the end of the heartache. the certainty of his love. to have the fantasy made flesh.
but the price…
“it would require a gradual integration.” he continued, his voice hypnotic. “we'd start small. editing your emotional responses to be less… volatile. then, layer by layer, we'd replace your organic consciousness with the synthetic matrix. you'd still be you… in a sense. your love for him would remain, purified and amplified. you would become efficient. perfect. and he would love you for it.”
he would?
he saw the conflict tearing you apart — the desperate, dying hope warring with the last shreds of your self.
“think of it.” he whispered. “no more waiting by the phone. no more watching him choose her. no more feeling like a ghost in your own life. you would become the heroine of your own story at last. all it costs is the part of you that is… broken.”
you looked back at the screen, the one that flickered back to linkon city. caleb was laughing now at something emcee said, his face alight with a joy that had once been yours. the betrayal was a fresh wound, salted by the scientist's words.
you are broken. your love is flawed. you are not enough.
a deep, utter loneliness swallowed you. the kind that screamed for relief at any cost. the fantasy the scientist painted… it was a siren song in the crushing silence of your despair.
to be loved by caleb. to have him look at you the way he looked at her on that screen. it was the dream that had dragged you across the gap between worlds.
your voice, when it finally came, was a broken defeat, barely audible.
“...would it hurt?”
the scientist's smile was gentle, almost kind. it was the most terrifying expression you had ever seen.
“only at first.” he said. “and then… peace. and love. real love. the kind that lasts.”
you could have him. you could have the happy ending. all you had to do was surrender. to let them erase the wounded, betrayed, human part and replace it with something flawless and machine-made.
the tears that fell now were not just of grief, but of a profound, soul-crushing temptation. the anguished choice between a painful, real self destined for heartbreak, and a perfect, artificial one destined for love.
“don’t you want him to love you?”
in the blinding white room, stripped of everything, you hovered on the edge of annihilation, seduced by the very devil who had orchestrated your ruin. the only sound was the steady, rhythmic beep of the monitor tracking the vital signs of the person you were, and the person they promised you could become.
summary: a god of ruin leaves a part of themselves in Caleb when they save him as a child. the corruption grows from there.
tags: fantasy au, corruption, lots of worldbuilding, non!mc reader, gn!reader, knight!caleb
notes: i actually have so much more i can write abt this but i had to cut myself off or it would become a full length novel. i love worldbuilding and fantasy and fucked up relationships <3
word count: 5.8k
You wake and you are no longer human.
You have not been human for a long, long time.
Physicality feels foreign. The weight of a corporeal body is suffocating, though you no longer need to breathe. You simply exist within a space far too small for you, an emptiness that expands and swallows everything it touches.
Something calls to you, pulls at the core of your existence. You allow it to change you, give you form, shape you into something humanoid, but not human.
You blink your eyes open and stand inside a tomb.
It must have been yours. There is a faint trace of grief and fondness that lingers in the corners of the cold stone. When you look into the coffin, there is no body. Age has faded all the colors within the tomb; it feels right to be someplace so colorless and void of life. It is as you are.
You would be content to stay here forever. But the call is strong and it wraps around your very reason for waking, pulling you into the world proper.
The world grates against your senses. It's all too bright and loud and busy, full of movement and constant change, every moment propelling into another, every organism growing and dying in equal measures. You let go of your corporeal form to lessen the impact the world has on you, drifting through it formless and invisible, observing all you come across.
Please, the call whispers, Please. Please.
Need fuels the call, desperation, a fear that tastes sweet and thick in your throat. The call whispers through the world and you are the only one to answer, claiming it as your own.
Tell me what it is you seek, you return. Your words echo through the fabric of the universe itself, settling to where it is needed.
Please. The voice clears and remakes itself into the form of a little girl, a human with a destiny so bright it hurts to look at. Here, now, she is still young and afraid, looking up at you with teary eyes. Her small hands clutch at another body, a child pale with death. The world resolves itself and you are before them in the smoldering ruins of a dungeon. You can feel Death sweep by, dragging along the newest souls to leave this mortal plane.
The child hiccups over a sob. She holds the body of the other child closer. "Who are you," her trembling voice demands even as her soul whispers please please please endlessly.
You called for me, you say, drifting down to kneel before her, your body solidifying enough to have limbs again. Four, just like anything else mimicking humanity. What is it you seek?
"Help him," she begs. "Help him. Please, he can't die here. He's the only one I have. I don't have anyone else."
You peer into her eyes and see a crown, hardship after hardship, a kingdom to which she will bring ruin or prosper. You see the boy, grown and alive, beside her, walking in step behind her, a distance pulling them apart. You see him dead, her growing up alone and jaded, the birth of an evil set to devour the world.
You want to let that happen. Hunger is your domain. It would be so easy to refuse her plea, to set her down that path and watch as she devours the world in her pain. It is your calling; that hunger, that void is your very existence. Allowing it to grow will bring you strength.
But you look down at the dead little boy and beneath the smoke rising into the sky, the stone rubble and bodies, the tears of a child who should not have to survive this—
Despite everything, a part of you remains human.
It is human enough to help her.
A price must be paid, you tell her, reaching down to cradle the head of the boy.
"What do you want? I don't have anything…"
Your Name, you whisper, sweet as anything. Give me your Name.
She hands it over willingly. You swallow it down and lock it tight within you. She is Nameless now, an absence she must build her identity around. Never shall anyone call to her, never shall a name be tied to her, never shall she be tethered to this world so tightly again. It gives you power, just enough to make the impossible change beneath your hands.
Void and hunger and a brief spark of life. The boy breathes.
You pour a little part of yourself into him; his spirit is too weak to survive without it, now that Death has taken him once.
It is complete, you say, fading away. The rest is up to you.
How interesting. To be awoken by a single call. To be able to push her into her burning destiny. To have the opportunity to change the fate of the world itself. And it all depended on whether or not you saved one child.
You leave them be. It took much energy to perform a miracle so far out of your domain. Life is not something you are meant to meddle with; you work within emptiness, darkness, the space between stars, endings and entropy. Life gives. You take, endlessly, a hunger that is never sated.
It would not be wrong to call you a monster.
Death comes to rest beside you at a quiet corner of the coastline. You explore your abilities now that you are awake to use them, pulling the void within you to eat away at the sunlight entering a small cave. The darkness within it deepens. It reminds you of your tomb; perhaps you should make this your new resting place.
You Are Awake,They say, a black crow flying off their shoulder to fetch a lost soul from the sea.
I am, you agree. Do you have need of me?
I Did Not Expect You To Awaken After Entering My Domain.
You nod. You also did not expect to wake up after you died. You certainly did not expect to wake up Other, no longer human. The memories you hold are hazy and faded; flashes of a full life, of the power you held and the fear others held for you. You remember choosing to die. You don't wish to remember anything more. The memories of your old life can disappear. You'll be happier that way.
I was called, you say. And so I answered.
You Took A Soul From My Grasp.
I was given a Name in return.
Death nods. A Fair Trade. Tread Lightly In My Domain. I Allow This, But No More.
There will be no more, you assure Them, I am Endings and Void and Hunger. Life does not become me.
Death laughs lightly, a hoarse sound that resembles dead trees shaken in strong wind. Life Is Far Too Kind To Resemble Any Of Us. They Will Be Happy With Your Interference. I Am Sure To Hear About It Next We Meet. They look at you without eyes, form shifting between a towering shadow and a skeleton wrapped in dead vines. What Shall You Do Next?
You consider the question. In the far distance, you can feel the piece of you embedded in the boy's soul be shaped by him, evolving with him as he grows and changes. He is alive and well and the hunger you embody is beginning to find a home in him.
There are no more calls for you. Entropy continues to eat away at the edges of the universe, swallowing stars and leaving black holes in its wake. It needs no guiding hand; all you must do is exist as the body in which you interact with reality and it will carry on as a force of nature.
I shall return to my slumber, you decide, I will rest until I am called again.
I Envy Your Peace, Death tells you, For I Shall Never Rest. Until We Meet Again.
Goodbye, Death, you nod, and They vanish, leaving to continue their never-ending rounds, gathering souls to deliver to the afterlife.
You turn your back on the sea and enter the cave. Your void has been eating away at it steadily, leaving it unnaturally dark. No sunlight can reach into it now. It is quiet and comfortable, the damp, cold stone similar to your long abandoned tomb. It is not a deep cave, going down and into the side of the cliff by a few meters. At the bottom, the stone gives away to the ocean, sweeping in from beneath the land.
The thin, weak connection you hold with the boy you brought back to life is steady. You send a little ripple of void down it just to feel him jump, a quiet little amusement before you return to your resting. There is no need for a being like you to remain in the world, so you settle down, release your grip on reality, and sink into slumber.
Time slips away. Time is meaningless to immortal beings.
Now that you have awoken once, true sleep is impossible. You are spread far and wide, in every emptiness, in every darkness, pulling the universe to ruin just for the sake of keeping balance with creation.
Sometimes you sink into the essence of rot, eating away at leaves on forest floors just to feel small. Other times you float between the stars, coalescing into a black hole just to enjoy the taste of light.
What happens to humans on the planet you reside on is irrelevant. You care little for them.
But they care for you.
Your little coastline cave is discovered and curiosity pulls brave souls to explore the unnaturally dark depths. They whisper of a slumbering god of destruction and ruin, who holds the power to destroy the very world.
A shrine is built for you, done with enough movement that you take note of it, becoming aware of the unwelcome changes being done to your place of rest. You idly consider having the darkness eat away at those humans, but let the idea fade away; it's too much work, and it would get their attention fixed on you, which is the last thing you need.
Then come the offerings: gold and jewels and food that crumbles to dust quickly in your half-awake presence. Nobles demand that you bring ruin to their rivals. Common folk beg for those who exert power over them to fall and wither away. Most requests you ignore, but occasionally there comes a a prayer that interests you enough to move.
You swallow the ambition of a king set on conquering the far shore of the continent and he is left an empty husk of a man. You steal away the softness of a child's heart to ease the pain and help them kill the orphanage directors that starve them. You make a castle fall completely, burying all the bodies it held, simply because a young boy, cast aside, wished for them to disappear.
You are not kind. You are fickle and bored and always so hungry.
Humans fear and worship you in equal measure. It does not take long for whispers of your unwanted shrine to spread, for more people to make pilgrimages to you in the hopes of catching your attention. It only takes a few years for it all to be too annoying to handle anymore, so you force yourself awake and leave your cave, searching for a new place to rest.
The other gods have been busy, leaving their marks across the world. In the distance, you can hear War bellow and laugh. Harvest sweeps by, leaving you plenty of fallen crop to feast on and you help the fields decompose, turn over the soil into something healthier for the next planting season. Death's crows fly overhead endlessly, forever on the move. You can feel Life dancing through the land, pushing new sprouts up through the earth and pulling animals and humans gently through the movements of Time.
As you drift through the world, you observe humans move through their fleeting lives. Some are untouched by the threads of fate, free to choose what path they wish to follow. Most of those humans are quiet and little, wanting for nothing, so you give them some of your hunger to turn their sights onto greater things. Other humans are so tightly wound by fate that it makes you recoil in disgust, sneering at their burning ambition; their hunger will consume them whole if you leave them be. Most you leave untouched to find their own ruin, but for some you see more that can come from them and rip out portions of their hunger to reclaim as your own.
It takes a few years before you are able to settle down again, fighting against your own appetite that demands you search for more to eat. Too much interference is troublesome, especially without the right motivation. Hunger is simply what you are, not a motivation that informs your decisions.
You find a nice mountain top and carve a resting place into the high cliffs, surrounded by nothing but strong winds and large birds that are more than happy to keep their distance.
You sink into sleep again.
The dreams begin then, something pulling your slumbering consciousness to observe a young man, just settling into adulthood, chase after a fate-woven girl. His armor is dull and cracked in several places, but his sword is well kept and sharp. His eyes sweep over his surroundings, keeping the girl safe as she sleeps. When he looks at her, his eyes are dark and dangerous and you can feel your own hunger rise up within him.
There he is, you think, looking at the once-boy-now-man you saved so long ago. He has grown up well. He has grown up strong. He has grown up hungry but his control of it is tight and unforgiving. You are pleased by this; you would not want part of your essence to be imbued in someone weak.
You dream in flashes: portions of fights against monsters, laughing with the girl as she leads him through a market, running from masked figures across the continent. He grows steadily, more and more jaded as time passes. He is separated from the girl. She is beyond the reach of your dreams and so you can only watch him worry and despair, taking down his enemies with greater violence than before.
And then, the call comes. His call.
Please, his soul screams, please please please.
You brought him back to life. You have a responsibility to him. You answer his call.
He is panting in the aftermath of a bloody fight, exhaustion weighing down his limbs. There are bodies around him, still warm, and Death stands off to the side, watching Their crows pluck souls from the corpses. They give you a single nod, but offer no words.
You acknowledge Them briefly, then take a moment to allow yourself to fully wake, pulled out of the dream by your connection to him. You body forms, growing heavy under the weight of reality, and you fill a space that was once empty.
It has been a long time since you were properly corporeal. It's hard to keep your features clear and unchanging, so you give up. Darkness rises up and drapes itself over you like a veil, hiding you from view.
For what reason have you called me, you ask, grimacing at the strange sensation of a proper voice moving the muscles of your throat.
The man whips around, sword raised, with a fierce light in his eyes.
"Who are you," he demands, an echo of the girl so very long ago.
You tilt your head to the side. You know me.
"No, I don't."
Perhaps a little reminder is in order, then. You pull at the void connecting you, reaching out to touch the essence you left in his death-soaked soul.
He jumps, then swears.
You laugh. Yes, you remember me now. Speak. Why have I been called?
He pales, swallows heavily. Then he says, "There's someone I need to save."
And what will you give me in return for my assistance?
"What do you want?"
Your Name.
His expression hardens. "I won't give you my name. But you may call me Caleb. Ask for something else."
Clever, you say approvingly, Then I want your hunger. Let it consume. Let it grow. I wish to see what you can do with it.
"So you just want to see what I can do?"
If that is how you wish to interpret that, then yes, you nod. I want to see what you can do.
"You—what are you?"
Hunger and Void. Darkness in empty space. Ruin and rot. I am the End of all, and the reason you breathe still.
Caleb lowers his sword, though his eyes remain guarded. "A god, then."
Or a monster. There is no difference between the two.
"No, there isn't." He runs a hand through his hair, then looks down at the cooling corpse around them. Death has since taken Their leave, always needed elsewhere, though the heaviness of their presence still lingers. "They took her. Betrayed us on the way back to Philos when we thought we were finally safe. I'm going to get her back."
Her. Yes, the girl desperate enough to give me her name. Very well, you give him a slight bow, a mockery of human politeness, I shall aid you in her rescue.
"She's Nameless because of you?"
Caleb, you say, relishing the way the shape of his name in your mouth makes him shudder, You live because she is Nameless. Had she not offered, I would have left you still dead.
He looks both enraged and terrified, subtly shifting back a step. He's trying to put on a brave face, but such facades mean nothing to you. He is one of Yours, tethered to you by a shared hunger. He can not hide from you.
But that is in the past. We need not revisit it. Lead the way, Caleb, and I shall follow.
…
He's heard rumors about a new born god of destruction. Part of him had been tempted to follow the whispers and find the shrine hidden along the coast with Pips. They could have asked for help in taking down EVER, of getting rid of the heartless king of Philos to help Prince Xavier onto the throne. They could have sought help in restoring Pips' Name so he wouldn't have to call her by a nickname, no matter how affectionate it was.
He knew her name. Pipsqueak had a name that was engraved onto his soul, but all he can recall when he tries to revisit a memory of saying it is ̶̛̞̳͐͛̀̔̆͝m̶̢̨͍͙͕̘̮͇͈͔̘̓̀͌͘ͅx̷̛͙̊̇̐̓͝ỉ̵͓̑͌a̷̬̘̚͜͝ ̶͈̪̌̿́c̸̡̪̺̲̱͍̲͑͋́̃̋͊́͌͂̾̓͗͜͜ā̸̼͎̗͖͍́̆͐͐̈́̏͘͠͝x̴̫̩͂̓̌x̵̘̙͔̯͎̼̯͈̠̜͑ì̴̹̭̙̻̺̱̗̔͂̅́͌̈̚͘͝͝ẍ̷̢̢̣̳̥́̃̿̓̈́̓͂͛͛̇̈a̸̢͔͖͙͓̤͐͆͋͑͋̌̿̏͝ — just the thought of it makes his head pound.
Pips told him to give up on her Name.
"I'm happy with whatever you want to call me," she had said, "So stop making your nose bleed by thinking about it too hard!"
He should have pushed harder. He should have done the impossible. He should have given her name back so he would have something left of her.
It's all his fault.
Caleb had gotten too comfortable, too complacent. Everything had been going well; five years after being knighted, three years after she joined him serving under the Crown of Philos, time enough to form bonds and believe that the worst parts of his life are safely behind him. They're both so much stronger now, no longer the scared kids they once were, jumping at every noise in the dark and running from EVER. He thought that, as a knight, he would be able to keep everyone safe now.
He didn't think he needed to keep Pips safe from the very people they fought alongside with.
Now, betrayed and injured and furious about it all, he's back to where he was all those years ago: terrified and running away. They got separated, put in different missions before their fellow knights turned on them by order of the crown. Their ties with the disgraced first prince, Xavier, put a target on their backs and now Pips is gone and Caleb has never hated the crown more.
There must be a bounty on his head. He didn't kill everyone when he escaped and word must have spread by now. Everyone after him has worn Philos' emblem. He'd torn his own off, swearing revenge no matter the cost.
It had been easy to shut away his heart, to look upon familiar faces and kill them without hesitation. He doesn't feel bad about it. He doesn't feel anything but vicious satisfaction and he's sure, now, that there was always something monstrous about him, just biding its time to make itself known. He had a faint sense of it before, when they were kids and still growing up, but he had smothered it down and ignored it, desperate to play the part of Pips' kind, protective, fun older brother. Even as his own affection for her twisted and grew hungry, wanting her in ways that would make her look at him with horror.
There's no need to seek out this new born god of ruin; They found him instead, and Caleb can see his reflection in Their darkness. They are largely silent, only speaking when he speaks, Their words heavy with intent, a gravity that pulls at the weight of reality.
He understands now: he was always part monster, reborn with Hunger in his core. They brought him back to life, but They brought him back changed.
The thought that They can take away the twisted gift of life They gave him is terrifying. He refuses to die while Pips is still in danger, her fate up in the air. They are meant to be feared and he fears Them despite trying not to, but oddly enough, They're not… scary.
It is simply human nature to fear what is powerful, and mortals can never compare to gods. He's heard the legends of those who cross gods, who are punished eternally, who are changed. He's grown up to hearing bits and pieces of tales told around fires and in taverns of how the world is shaped by the rage and mercy of immortal beings. They are to be worshiped and feared in equal measures, fickle beings who demand more just to allow anyone to escape their gaze.
This god of ruin could care less for any of that, it seems. They demand nothing for him after the deal is made. They just follow, silently, leaving darkness dripping in Their wake.
Your mind is loud, They say suddenly, making him jump.
Caleb watches Them from the corner of his eye, unable to fully look away. It's uncanny, seeing this figure of darkness walk the same path as him, small and unfathomable. The dark veil that covers Them is thick, heavy as the night, concealing what lies beneath. Is there even a body under there? Or just darkness?
"Can you blame me?" he says, trying to make his voice even and unbothered, "It's not every day a god walks by my side."
They tilt their head to the side and a shiver of unease works its way up his spine. You are the one who called for me.
"I don't see how I did."
The soul tells no lies. You had need of me, and so I am here.
"Not sure I buy that."
What you believe matters not to me.
"Great," Caleb huffs, shoving a branch aside forcefully as he continues he's long walk through the forest. The god beside him just drifts through all obstacles. Leaves once dark green turn brown and brittle, falling to the ground as They pass.
He's tempted to ask for more aid. He can't do this alone, no matter how hard he tries. Evading EVER while rebelling against Philos is a suicide mission but it's one he has to undertake for Pips. He knows he's not coming out of this alive, but it will be worth it as long as he can make them all pay for what they've done. What's the point in having a connection to a god of ruin if he doesn't use Them to see this through?
Your hunger grows, They say, amusement deep in their voice. What is it that you are wanting so strongly?
If he's going to die anyways, he may as well take some more risks. "What would the price be for having you help me take down EVER? Or Philos?"
To what extent?
"Complete destruction. I want them all dead. I want them all to feel it. What will you take for this to happen?"
Suddenly, They're right in front of him, grabbing hold of his chin. Their hand is cold, fingers a deep black that fade as it moves up Their arm into something more human in color. It's startling to see something resemble humanity from Them when they're so monstrous and he can't help but stare at this sudden hit of a physical body emerging from beneath Their veil.
His heart pounds painfully in his chest. Though Their hand is gentle, it feels as though it takes his energy from him, leaving him weak.
What I want, They croon, for a desire so grand, is to consume and be consumed. To claim you as my own.
Caleb swallows heavily. "What do you mean?"
Other gods have priests and emissaries. Humans who move in Their name. Why should I not have the same? Be mine. Swear yourself to me and I shall grant you greater power to achieve what you hunger for. Let go of your restraint on the Hunger I have given you.
He doesn't know where he finds the strength, but he manages to force his body to move and wrench his face away from Their grasp. "I'll think about it," he bites out, fear resting bitter on his tongue.
They do not pursue. They allow him some distance and drop Their arm, hiding it from sight again.
Caleb wonders: why this form? From what he's heard of other gods, they make themselves large, imposing, impossible to ignore. They tower above mortals and change the world to their whims. So why does this powerful deity, of darkness and hunger, choose to be small?
If he didn't know any better, he would think Them fragile. The memory of that small hand, slim and gentle and colder than a corpse, cements itself into his mind.
Curiosity burns away at him.
But Caleb is practiced in biting his tongue, in playing his role, focusing on his task and nothing more. He pushes his need for knowledge away, grapples with what little he can control.
The important thing now is to find Pips and get revenge. Nothing else. His own growing hunger for more is nothing in comparison.
He struggles through each day, hiding as best he can. He sticks to quieter, smaller roads, choosing to go around towns in an effort to remain unnoticed by those who want him dead. Every part of him hurts and exhaustion weighs heavy on him.
It's an accident when he stumbles upon a group of EVER enforcers, no doubt sent to capture him again. Pips doesn't remember anything but the end, but their time with EVER was filled with pain and blood, cut open endlessly while a man blessed by a healing god twisted the power to ensure they could never escape through death. Caleb can pick them out easily, his entire body wired to recognized and attack them, striking first before they can make a move against him.
He's about to do the same, gripping the hilt of his sword as he watches them from behind a large fern, hate rising as he listens to them chat and laugh around a fire.
He's about to move, when he hears one of them say, "If we get them back and get a kid out of the woman, think they'll let me have a go with her? I've seen her a few times and man, she grew up fine."
They better not be talking about what he thinks they're talking about.
"Subject Aether is too valuable to be given to folks like us," another one retorts, "But if we were given a chance with Subject Chaos—"
"Him? Didn't know your tastes swung that way."
"Bet I could break him, you know?"
They laugh together, as if they're not talking about forcing themselves onto both him and Pips.
Caleb nearly leaps out and begins the slaughter when small, cold hands grip onto his shoulders and freeze him in place.
At ease, They whisper to him.
"I want them dead," he snarls, taking far too much effort to keep his voice low.
Yes. But a simple killing is not enough. Power floods into him suddenly, enough to make his knees buckle. They are the only thing keeping him upright as his sense of the world suddenly expands. Every darkness is so visible now, and sparks of life from plants and animals and even the enforcers draw his eye, igniting in him a hunger he hasn't felt since his first kill.
I shall give you a taste, the god of Hunger and Void and Endings whispers sweet in his ears, This is what my power can do for you. This is what it means to embrace the hunger. Go on, my Caleb, devour them.
He is bigger than his body. He moves without sound. The night rises around him, the shadows cast from the flickering fire twisting unnaturally among the bodies. They are flesh and blood and warmth that he is eager to feel against his tongue, his teeth. The void within him sings with pleasure, swelling until it is all he is, barely any of Caleb left as he descends upon them.
The god follows behind him, watching, always watching. They spare no mind for the screams or the blood spilling onto the ground. Caleb can feel their satisfaction, their own hunger pulling at his own until they twist into a macabre dance.
He blinks, and he is inside his body again.
The fire has gone out. His sword is on the ground, bloody. His hands are still dripping with it.
There are no bodies around him.
The taste of iron rests heavy on his tongue.
"What did I—" he tries, but his voice gives out, and then his legs, and he falls to the ground.
The god is kneeling on the ground and They easily pull his head onto Their lap, running a hand through his hair. It shouldn't be so comforting, but They touch is light and kind and he has not felt this safe in a very long time. They do not run from his darkness. They are his darkness, his sickest desires, the very worst parts of him brought to life and they do not flinch away from him.
There is no need for masks here; They see him in his entirety. Their power still flows through him, but it's less now. Not so overwhelming. It is familiar and the price of blood is well worth it. Caleb has not felt this settled in so long, not since he was still small enough to share a bed with Pips, curling around her in the dead of night.
He wakes in the morning feeling well rested. It has been weeks since he felt this good. There is no blood on him anymore, but he knows the last night was real; the ever present hunger in him is as close to sated as it's ever been.
They journey on, dodging bounty hunters and EVER and knights of Philos. The god never pushes him to accept Their proposition, to become Their paladin and fight in Their name, but the thought lingers in him. He has tasted Their power. He has tasted Them.
Old fantasies of licking the salt off of Pips' skin are fading, replaced with the need to rip his god open, to see all They have to offer. Gone is the longing to swallow down her sounds, to feel how she would move, helpless, in his grip while he devoured her. Instead, he wants for more of his god, to know Them as much as he can, to greedily steal Their affections and gentleness, to feel Their teeth on his throat.
Hunger like this cannot be stopped. It grows, endlessly, relentless in its desire to consume all that is around it. Caleb is just a vessel for this Hunger. He has always been a part of it, a part of Them. He understands that well, now, as he chases after whispers of Pips and Xavier, plotting to take down the current rulers of Philos.
They will need him to be strong when he finds them again. They will need a monster to put an end to the current Crown.
"I will agree to move in your name, so long as you see my desires granted," he says, one day. It's the first time he's put this into words, letting them escape the confines of his mind.
They are before him in a blink, black hands decorated with faint impressions of stars long devoured cradling his jaw. Caleb, They say. The weight of his name is different, heavier that it usually is. My paladin knight. Mine to devour.
A mouth splits across the veil, wide and full of sharp teeth. A thrill runs through him at the sight of it and he eagerly tips his head back, relishing the pain of having his throat torn in to. Power floods through him and Caleb lifts his head.
He bites back.
(The New Golden Age of Philos is a popular tale. It's spread far and wide when King Xavier's reign begins to near its end. People speak of an unfortunate child, tossed out when the first Empress died. The consort that took her place wanted him dead, and so he was left abandoned and trapped in an old castle full of her people, working to kill him.
The castle collapsed one day, leaving no survivors but him.
He grew up bitter and strong but with the love of his people giving him the willpower to keep going. He was joined by a Nameless who was able to twist the threads of Fate itself to ensure their success, and by a paladin of Ruin, bringing destruction to those who oppressed the common folk of Philos.
They are painted as heroes, people meant to become legends.
Caleb knows they are monsters: Xavier is cold to everyone but Pips, ruthless in all he does, Pips burns brighter than the sun and fears nothing, and he devours all in their path in the name of his god, uncaring for how his once beloved and her king watch him warily, always ready for him to turn that hunger onto them.
But that's not a tale anyone wants to hear, so it is forgotten and left to end, safe in Their hands.)
on ao3 • first chapter • < previous chapter • next chapter >
plot: ever since 2015, japan has been plagued by mysterious deaths all over the country with no particular lead, until one day, you saw something you shouldn’t have.
summary: as toji’s words weighed heavily in your mind, you decide to try and challenge the subject (warnings: possessive behaviour & smut which maybe leans into dub/con)
15. Resentment
You couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed with thoughts—both new and old—as you stared up ahead at the ceiling in the dark, knowing that it was yet another place that you had to get used to. A lot of what had been happening lately with Kenjaku felt pointless and almost maddening from the intensity, without ever settling into something concrete. You could no longer tell if there had been any clear goal he had been chasing at all, or if it had been like that all along.
Back when you first met, it just felt easier to go along with the flow. His choosing to spare your life rather than bury you with your problems felt like the second chance you might have needed then, but now it felt suffocating more than anything else.
Leaving a part of you to wonder if it would have been easier if he had just killed you when he had the chance, rather than let it go this far, where you could no longer back out.
The thought felt disturbingly calm because, at least back then, there would have been an end to it all.
A part of you blamed that man—the ex-Zenin—Toji—for putting these thoughts into your head, because it was evident in the way that he looked at you and how bluntly he spoke, that he truly believed the words he preached. That Kenjaku was worse than the fate you could have secured with Naoya. Such an insight felt insulting, almost, but it wasn’t something you could deny outright.
And just as you were about to push yourself out of bed and wander, Kenjaku shifted beside you, his arms sliding around you and pulling you close before you had the chance to escape.
“Where’d you go earlier?” he asked quietly, his voice low and soft, concealing the concern behind his question. He did not like it when you wandered—he made this clear to you already—had he not already figured out something with the ex-Zenin, he would have reminded you a little clearer of what it meant to defy his instruction. However, even now, when he could sense that something was amiss, he knew to be gentler. Something was bothering you. He did not want to damage whatever fragile sort of thing existed between the two of you.
You shrugged as you lay. “I just went… exploring,” you muttered in response. “You were busy with that guy, and I didn’t exactly want to be around Zenins.”
“Oh?” he caught, amusement creeping into his tone. “I’d think that Toji would have thought the same.”
You didn’t reply.
“Are you not tired?” Kenjaku continued, his hands curling around you ever so slightly tighter as though to warn you that leaving him alone again was not an option.
You shook your head. “Well, I am… but I’m just having trouble falling asleep.”
“Ah,” he noted. “Because of today… or… because of something else?”
You bit your tongue, not wanting to reveal petty, trivial things like you having second thoughts.
“It’s nothing.”
Kenjaku hummed under his breath, neither agreeing nor pressing the matter any further for the time being. His hand remained firmly at your side, grounding you in a way that felt intentional. However, eventually, he shifted, an idea stirring into his mind. “Or, if you’re restless, we could do something about it.”
You stiffened at the idea—not out of disgust, no—but because of Toji’s lingering words pushing through the surface yet again. You thought about what refusing Kenjaku could mean and what could come from the consequences. The thought left you feeling unsettled. It was by now, after all, that you learned that things simply worked better when you didn’t interrupt the course that he set—when you followed after him blindly than seeking your own way. When you gave him what he already assumed on principle, it would be his in the first place.
Even if you did not mind, the thought made your skin crawl.
Rejection felt like something you should be entitled to.
You wondered then, if he had noticed the quiet way in which you started to distance yourself from him lately, if this was why he initiated at all, if this was why he felt more persistent than usual, because even if you were the type to so readily indulge in the chaos that seemed to chase him—you wanted to allow yourself to be difficult too. That way you could remain your own person. That way, you didn’t have to change entirely to retain what could still count as living.
“Not tonight,” you simply said, curling in on yourself, writhing free from his touch and away to the side.
Kenjaku went still, as did his hand, leaving it to hover right where it was. For a moment, he considered dropping the matter entirely and letting you rest like you apparently had so keenly wanted to, but something about your body language and tone just felt… off. It was like he could feel that it wasn’t just something you said in a moment, but something that built off something deeper, like resentment.
Which was something he did not want.
Especially not with you.
“It doesn’t have to be anything intense,” he murmured, his voice low and careful, and yet, somehow still devoid of force in his tone. He was simply probing, testing, giving you one last chance to remedy your rejection.
But you didn’t seem to budge on the matter. “I’m exhausted,” you emphasised, a yawn slipping from your lips just then. “We can do it when I’m not.”
The silence that followed somehow felt even heavier than before, like there was an unspoken distance that had settled in between you both and now seemed to be working to push you both away from each other. Again, he did not like that feeling, and he acted on his feelings for once, rather than on the manipulative cover he had kept up for so long.
“Do you not like me anymore?” he asked.
Your eyes snapped open, not expecting that question out of all the things he could say.
“What?”
His arm slid more firmly around you, reeling you in so close that your back pressed into his chest. The gesture was deliberate and possessive, as if he were reminding you of where you were meant to be.
“Don’t you feel anything for me?” he asked, pressing himself forward, letting you feel the hardness that had formed in his body. “Because I do.”
You gulped at the direction in which things were headed.
“I do like you,” you assured him, albeit sounding unsure. “What’s even bringing this on?”
Kenjaku was quiet for a beat, but then flatly continued. “Funny you should ask, considering you know exactly what you’re doing.”
Then, after a pause.
“Are you playing hard to get intentionally?” he accused.
You bit your lips and held back a response, not wanting to reveal to him that you were partially enjoying this, but the point of the experiment needed to hold strong, otherwise you were doomed to eternally wander just how he could react to important things—like trivial things—like things that were honestly mundane and little and everything else—just rejection—because you needed to know just what on earth you had gotten yourself into. Even if your mind was damaged. Even if you didn’t care about what followed after.
Kenjaku, too, was close to just letting go and pursuing what he wanted, because how was he supposed to simply ignore the fact that you were being so quiet and cryptical and elusive—potentially thinking about things that would further push him away. About things that could lead you to potentially doubting him further. About potentially finding the strength (and sense) to attempt leaving someone like him.
With that thought in his mind, he couldn’t help but react the way he did then, turning you over to your back and straddling on top of you; pushing your shoulders flat against the give of the mattress with his palms so that you couldn’t fight back. Moving your thighs apart and slipping his knee down the middle so that you couldn’t close him off with yet another rejection.
“You think that you can just push me away?” he challenged, brushing his hand past where it sat on your shoulder before settling around your neck, squeezing ever so slightly while his other hand dipped below his waist in the dark, coming to wrap around his already hardened cock. He stroked himself lazily, intentionally, letting you feel the movement as his knuckles swept across your skin—letting you hear how the fabric softly rustled in the dark.
Weirdly, this was exactly what you wanted. His actions were not putting you off.
Maybe Toji, therefore, was simply wrong.
Maybe it just meant that you both suited each other.
You—a broken thing—and the man on top of you—who had no interest in fixing you.
“I’m not pushing you away,” you yawned, though by now you were unable to mask the attitude surfacing in your voice, hinting to him that his suspicions were correct—that this was just a bit after all. “I’m just really tired.”
His lips curved at the realisation. “So, why won’t you let me help you relax, then?”
“Because you’re tired too,” you quipped.
Kenjaku scoffed at your response. “Oh? But what if I can only relax if my hands are on you all of the time?”
To emphasise his point, he moved his touch down a little, slipping down the bed and moving your legs apart with his hands. He lost interest in reaching you by force, much more keen to demonstrate to you that his touch—his yearning—was greater than just self-satisfaction. With that show, he drifted down entirely, his face coming to rest in between your thighs—his tongue already punching forward, eager to taste your soaked sex.
“You want this so bad,” he didn’t ask that time, but rather stated. His voice softened to a murmur as he settled into the rhythm, parting your lips with the spread of his finger, giving your clit a curious lick.
You blinked at how quickly the events seemed to be unfolding. “Yes, with some sleep—”
Though ever persistent, he ignored you flat out, settling into immediately sucking on your clit, causing your legs to stiffen from the intense sensation that he offered—that he seemed to be relentless in giving.
“A-ah—” you gasped out, your fingers curling into the bedsheets so hard that the fabric tore.
Pressing ahead, he lapped at the bud, moving away so slightly to build your arousal into a state of need. Above all, he didn’t care what you thought that you needed, so long as he could push you into a state of dependency all the time.
He felt himself grow more and more aroused, too—more than he had been in a long time, in fact—just the feel of you melting into his tongue after the whole display of what he perceived to be brattiness, all seemed to fade away. Combined with the reactions that you were giving him, the soft flutter of your increasingly desperate gasps, he couldn’t help but grow rock hard to the point of pain.
And as your pleasure rose and your stomach coiled to an extent that you could no longer bear—Kenjaku pushed you further than he had meant to—resulting in a surge of heat that surged through your body, allowing you to come undone right beneath his tongue, right then and there. Even as you met your limit, however, he did not relent in reacting to how hard you pushed him.
No. He would not let you slip away and off to sleep, instead he made good of flipping you over once more, over to your stomach that time and lifting your legs ever so slightly before easing his length into your now slick sex from behind. A soft sigh of pleasure left his lips as he did so, but again, he did not give you the luxury of relief.
Bringing you back down to press over the mattress, and caging you in with his body that blanketed yours—Kenjaku set into a rhythm that felt so brutal in its intensity—that it must have hurt you both. He kept his chin resting over your shoulder, breathing in the scent of you as he plundered into your heat; rutting into your core with a maddening, if not frenzied, fervour. The bed shook in the force that he delivered, and grunts and gasps spilt from somewhere deep in his throat before he could think to contain them. You couldn’t keep quiet either, though, your once soft and breathless gasps now echoing as whining cries from the way he pounded deep into you. Again and again. And again.
Then, with the heat of the moment and the coupled intensity combined, he did not last too long either; his movements growing erratic, sending him into the point of no return. Kenjaku, without meaning to, hilted himself as far deep into your cunt as he could fit, allowing him to spill inside. A rough groan of bliss trickled out of his lips, as did his release from your spent sex, and ultimately, he seemed satisfied.
Which only lasted for a moment, before the residual unease settled back in.
Something insidious that felt not like full regret, but something that he knew that he shouldn’t have pressed.
“Shit,” he breathed out, sighing as the thought took root in his mind.
He glanced down at you, in the now low light of the creeping dawn, taking note that you didn’t seem to be too upset, and that you were otherwise just on the very edge of sleep. Perhaps you were truly tired then, but it also seemed that whatever you had been thinking of earlier on had gone with the moment he took over.
So perhaps it was nothing, after all.
He cooled down a little by throwing off the blanket, sitting up with his knees slightly bent and his arms resting lazily at his sides.
Then, he settled back down next to you.
“Still awake?” he murmured.
You hummed, although only just. “Barely.”
Kenjaku nodded at that and tightened his hold on you, less in a way that felt possessive and demanding like before, but in a way that felt desperate then.
In the moment that he allowed himself to drift off after you, something close to conflict began to eat away at his mind.
Reminding him that just now, he had made a mistake.
One that he hoped would not set off anything fragile later on.
~~~
By the next time he had awoke, the daylight was prominent, cutting in through the shutters and catching his eyes at an angle that felt blinding. He stirred as the sun settled over his face, his fluttering open as he prepared to face yet another day, even if the events that unfolded had left him feeling uneasy in a way that he could not shake off.
His eyes flicked towards you, and the realisation settled in at once, making him freeze as he recalled the memory over just how… erratically he had acted the night before. It didn’t seem like you were otherwise too bothered, just fast asleep without anything appearing to addle you. He should have felt relief at the sight.
But he did not.
He could not.
(Because, what was that?)
Kenjaku ended up pulling back on instinct—away from you—keen to give you some space as he grappled with his own thoughts, only to find that the space that was left behind felt unnatural. The absence felt wrong in a way that he couldn’t fathom, and before he could think better of it, his hands were back around you, as if they had never left in the first place.
Maybe… it was fine?
He considered that much and tried to allow himself to settle again. You were not pulling away. You hadn’t tried to run from him during the night, nor did you argue after what he had forced upon you.
So, perhaps it was just his own paranoia catching up to him.
If you were still here, then that’s all that mattered.
Even if he had crossed a line the night before.
Then, after what felt like a second, but in reality was close to something far later, he snorted awake again. He wondered just how much time had passed since he had last dozed off, brushing out his hand to gain purchase of you beside him again, needing to feel for you nearby to relax again, to ground himself, only to feel a cold and empty space where you should have been.
Kenjaku sat up immediately.
“Wait—”
But then he heard it—water running somewhere down the hall, and at that, he allowed himself to lean back again. His shoulders dropped along with any sudden tension that had threatened to consume him. His fingers twisted into the sheets before falling flat again. Then, he screwed his eyes shut, a dry laugh escaping his lips.
“Fuck.”
He sighed, blinking his eyes open slowly, coming to stare at the half-open door. “Just what are you doing to me?”
And as you showered, he let the sound play away in his ears, taking in the way that it just felt so… ordinary and comforting in a way that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. It was a thought that came uninvited, creeping into his mind as he lay there alone in that quiet house, sitting there, relaxing in the dull calm of the morning.
A second thought slipped in:
What it might be like to live this way with someone who mattered.
Initially, he was quick to dismiss the very notion. He had already tried something similar before, back when he tried to fit into what was considered normal, but places like these—suburbs—had a way of wearing people down, which was exactly what happened to him. They were built to erase individuality and file down everything to make it so that life was clean and orderly and uniform. He knew early on that this type of lifestyle was unsustainable; that was all. It was nothing personal towards the person he knew, even if they did insist on a life like this. Maybe that’s why he was quick to lash out initially.
He, however, did not feel that way with you.
So, perhaps pretending wouldn’t hurt, if not for a while; it might even be fun. After all, this house was just a cover, in itself. Toji would take the fall when the time came, and then Mahito, too, would go under. He was where he needed to be in life, and things were going as he had hoped they would.
And yet, still, even now, he still struggled with something. There was the issue of that former prodigy poking around; the one who hadn’t let go of him, not even when he seemed content with moving on from Geto’s identity. That would be something he likely had to face, bringing him back to the very thing he already struggled to break free from.
He would deal with that later, though, when the time would come. For now, playing house with you was an easier prospect.
When you had come back from your shower, looking all fresh-faced and refreshed, he watched you get dressed quietly for a moment before bringing up a point. “I haven’t exactly been clear with you, have I?” he started.
You blinked blearily as you pulled a top over your head. “About what?”
He snorted softly. “About everything,” he said with a shrug, leaning back so that his back pushed against the headboard. “I know that these last few weeks haven’t exactly been easy to keep up with.”
You flashed him a brief smile that fell off quickly. “Yeah. Guess so,” you said, your voice coming out a little flatter than usual, even if you were unsure why. Maybe it had to do with last night, even if you did not understand why:
You wanted it to happen—so what was the problem?
Kenjaku, too, was quick to notice the shift right away from the way you moved and the tone you were using. It made him hesitate ever so slightly, but he pushed past it anyway.
“I’m serious,” he insisted, leaning forward with a sigh. “It was just… an unfortunate turn of events, I’ll give it that much. The initial plan was to have you tag along with me as I looked for answers, but with Naoya sniffing around, it made everything messier than it should have been.
Your breath caught as you felt guilty about that then, as if it were your fault. It was to an extent.
He continued, trying to keep his tone measured and neutral as he did. “But that’s alright,” he assured. “Maybe it happened at the right time? I’m not exactly an expert in this sort of thing either, and the whole nation was growing increasingly paranoid over where I would strike next. Sooner or later, someone out there would have figured out my pattern. I was probably a slip-up or two away from being put behind bars, anyway.”
You pulled on a pair of trousers next, listening as he spoke during the process.
“That alone already left me with a time limit,” he admitted. “So, maybe Naoya showing up gave me the foundation of a solution. I can just frame Toji and give him what he was after, anyway—food and a place to stay—letting him claim that he was copying after the killer to shelf the blame. After that, Mahito can take credit for the rest.”
You frowned as you registered one major flaw in his plan. “And what will happen when they’re both in jail, and the killings haven’t stopped?”
He laughed quietly, meeting you with a light scoff. “You think I can’t keep myself under control?”
You were about to reply, but then the answer caught in your throat as your mind drifted back to last night, recalling just how little room there had been to say no, even if you hadn’t entirely wanted to. You opened your mouth to speak, but then you closed it again.
Kenjaku narrowed his eyes at your brief lapse of hesitation, and his expression shifted into annoyance, albeit not with you. With himself, maybe.
“Something that I’ll be putting on hold,” he replied carefully. “At least for now. There’s a bigger issue right now, anyway. I need to get my act together for that.”
“For what?” you asked, tilting your head carefully as you brushed out your damp hair.
“That damned prodigy,” he said bitterly, the irritation clear in his voice. “Even with everything else that has been going on, I don’t think I shook him off at all. I bet he’s still out there, keeping tabs on me out of spite.”
“Yeah, but he’s not a cop, right?” you pointed out. “If he’s just some security guard with money, then nothing should come out of that. Whatever happened between him and his friend years ago has long passed. I don’t think he’s going to care too much about someone who stole his dead friend’s identity.”
Kenjaku sighed. “I don’t know. I think it was more than just that to him. It felt like I initiated something that was already left unresolved, and I… I don’t want to be involved in… whatever that is.”
“So… move on?” you suggested as though it were easy.
“I will, once I succeed with my plan,” he insisted. “Then everything will be clearer.”
Then, after an uncertain pause, he muttered out more to himself than to you.
“It will be clearer,” he repeated. “It’ll have to be.”
