I love ALL your stories, i was just playing little siren till i run out of turn so, itme to wait.
Im curious of how much of a yanderes are the yanderes? like wahat their worts Yandere traint? impresioning MC? ...Killing them or hurting them-' hurting others? stalking, manipulating? what their limit?
Also, even tugh I LOVE ROMANCE, i would love a story with more family yandere, like father, mother sisters, brothers, grandpa IDK, i dont think there is any stor like that, i love platonic yanderes.
Here i leave a WIP of Lich and my MC that i never finish
I have to MC'S but this one like for Theodore's route, a cold, distant MC that just wanted to survive....and ended up probably be a yandere herself for her brother and msot loved ones. NOBODY TOUCH HER BROTHER, he must be happy!
Aurelius his worst trait is probably imprisoning mc and has little empathy for others. He'll kill others but wont harm mc instead he resorts to emotional abuse.
Litch imprisoning for him too. I can't see him necessarily hurting others but he will if needed. Unlike Aurelius who uses force to keep mc locked licht will use manipulation.
Theodore he won't murder anyone but ı can see him isolating mc so she only has him. Pretty obsessed with locking her up but won't do that because he has empathy for her.
Damien he won't harm mc physically but he'll threaten her and manipulate her to harm himself. He can't really control his jealousy so he might kill people unless mc stops him.
Claude he is the chillest yandere. He can use violence towards other but he mostly uses his status and gets thing done. If someone bothers mc he uses his status to end their job or even their life if he is really angered. He hides his yandere tendencies really well and is normal when he is with mc.
The nameless siren he is fine with killing mc but probably its as last resort. His kind Survives on human flesh so he kills and eats humans. So he has no empathy towards humans except mc. If someone bothers mc he'll just kill them with no remorse. He gets the urge to eat mc but won't do it as he can't bear losing her.
The nameless demon He can kill mc but only when he is at his lowest like in the bad end of my story he might kill mc and commit suicide. While growing up in the castle he noticed his beauty kept making women/man love him even when he was young. He doesn't like their touch or look and thought about killing them but hold himself back for mc.
Jade he is pretty chill. He won't kill anyone unless they provoke him or harm mc. He sees humans as ants and thinks low of them but he is trying to love them because mc is human.
â§ïœ„ïŸ: *â§ïœ„ïŸ:*
I loved your art! Please send the finished version too id you ever finish it.
HI! ITâS ME AGAIN, YES! I think iâm kinda hiper-fixeted now, but at least it makes me draw things again sop, yes. That and the fact that Cha. AI is now pretty bad, so I need to go back to my hoobies.
These are my highlights of the second chapter, with the last drawing, I think.
NOT DRACO HAVING THE FIRST MEET WITH 2 SAD LITTLE MISTREATED ORPHANS AND BEING AN ASS. My MC is so used to actual bullies that it was likeâŠheâs nice enough, but annoying. (Girl, heâs your bestie next year, surprise!)
DRAWING THE BOYS IS ALWAYS SO HARD. I hate to draw men. Letâs hope I get used to them. I think they ended up cuteâŠif not, theyâll become stick men. I also draw my headcanon version of Harry, long messy hair, skin more tanned becauseâŠidk, it gives him personality and I think he looks cuter that way. Draco is Draco. I think I just made his skin rosy to contrast the pale of my MC and show heâs actually healthy, eating, and taken care of.
Iâve been a part of the fandom and read the books since i was 10 years old and iâve NEVER ACTUALLY DRAW ANY CHARACTERS , weirdâŠ.now its the time i guess.
No more rambling, have a good day!
Awww, stop, your Harry and Draco look so cute đ
No, but sameâdrawing men is a pain. Tho you drew them perfectly! <3 The contrast between Draco and Harry with MC is just chefâs kiss
I got sick and mange to draw some of the chpter 2 , my MC ALWAYS wanted pretty clothes and things, so thats the firts thing she did with money. Also, she kinda wants approval from McGonagall in everything, but I notice she was kinda distant the whole chapter (they havenât really interacted since then; actually, she knows Snape if she has a problem).
SoâŠyeah, some outfits and the first design too. Hopefully, Iâll be able to draw INTERACTIONS WITH THE OTHERS đ„čđ
Oh my gosh, I canât get over how adorable your MC isđđ She def bought half the stock from Malkinâs (as she should)
SOMEONONE FROM DUNMENSHI FANDOM ACCEPT MY SMUT REQUEST!
Idk where to look at or ask cause I have not look into smut writers for dungeon menshi but PLEASE.
the whole party x SUCUBUSS! Reader.
Like...they feed from lust and Laois found her and since her charm habilities are op, drag them with the party and kinda become their own glory hole . Maybe they started taking turn to "feed" her and they were reluctang (porbably Marcille hate the idea) but finally,e everyone ended atracted to reader.
Having sex could also cure their phisical state so yeah.
If it have some yandere things arounf there, PLEASE....I'll probably be in everyone Aks looking for this one-shot . jeje.
Still, I leave the idea, please someone tag me if they like it
[ platonic yandere! holy knight x saintess! reader ]
summary: no one had expected that the holy knight that everyone adores is a complete siscon.
rei's notes: remember this headcannon? they are from the same timeline and lore but different kingdom, hehe.
honestly speaking, platonic yandere! holy knight wasn't really aware about your identity in the first place.
but there was one thing that he was sure of. what is it? it was the fact that he hates his parents down to his core.
i mean, he was practically sold at the church just to pay off their debts. you actually expect him to love them and be thankful for what they did?
his stay at the church wasn't really good. he was treated as a slave. but when they realized that he has a talent for swordsmanship and mana- their attitude towards him had change 360°. now, after some convincing session with the archbishop- he was now a holy knight in training.
which was a good thing since it made his life easier. now, he doesn't have to deal with shitheads since they were way too scared to approach him after they saw him beating up another knight after they called him "orphan."
anyway, when he got a week of break. he decided to see what his shit of a parents was doing. just a glimpse, he convinced himself. but platonic yandere! holy knight knew that he might lose it once he saw those faces.
but still- he wanted to know how his parents were doing after they dump him on the church and made his life a living hell.
and that was how he saw you- a younger sister whom he never knew the existence of.
he never showed his face in front of you. he remained hiding behind the tree while he watched you play with your mother. watching how you smile brightly at them.
he expected himself to be envious. he expected himself to hate you. but no.
because- for the first time on his life. platonic yandere! holy knight had found something... cute.
whoah, whoah, whoah. what is this? no one had informed him that his parents can actually create a fucking adorable thing. wait- are you even their daughter in the first place.
but much to his dismay and happiness- base on the rumor that he heard in the town. you are indeed their daughter. you are actually related to him! yey!
your first official meeting with your brother was at the city. while you were happily buying some food, he casually gave the shopkeeper the money, paying your food while he took some for his own.
you were confused, which is really cute btw. but his face remained stoic while he chewed his skewers.
wanting to pay him back, you followed him around during his stay on his hometown. and during those time, he made sure that the two of you had a good time.
playing, eating, or simply walking next to one another. platonic yandere! holy knight treasured those moments.
but all good times came to an end when he came back to the church. that was the time he came back to his usual stoic and brooding self who never give a fuck to other people.
platonic yandere! holy knight is the smothering type. no one expected that because of his appearance but he really loves to spoil his darling a lot.
because that was his way to show to his darling that he cares. oh, by the way. just like your good ol' yandere- he is extremely protective. he just wanted you to have a normal life. that was why he was glad that his shitty parents seemed to treat you really well.
atleast, that was what he thought until he saw you at the church... what? at first he was confused, then next, he thought that it was a complete bullshit. why do they have a twelve year old- wait, nevermind. the adults inside this kingdom are trashes anyway.
at first, he thought that you were sold. but then, when he was informed that you were the new saintess. he had lost it.
okay, sure. he agrees that your existence is really pure and divine. but the thought of his baby sister getting involved in politics had made his skin crawl.
that was why he decided to be your personal knight by the time he became the captain of the temple's knights.
did he inform you about your true relationship with him? no, never. he rather die than to do so. even though the thought of you calling him "big brother" is tempting. your position as the saintess was dangerous enough.
he didn't want you to be in danger just because you are related to him. he was a shit, he knows that. and without any doubt, he had many enemies inside and outside the kingdom.
by the way. whenever you are out with him- this guy made sure to cover you and your face so much. to the point that you looked like a walking cloth.
he had to test your foods first before you were able to eat it. and the present from other people? rejected. what if they send you a bomb?
all in all, despite of his tendencies on being a helicopter parent. platonic yandere! holy knight is a great older brother who won't hesitate to kill for you or kill himself if you asked. just say the word and he'll give you anything you want.
but honestly, the most hilarious thing is the fact that you were not aware why the hell is he so overprotective and loyal to you. since he never told you that he is your older brother. so you think that all holy knights were as intense as him.
to add some nonsense detail, there were some times when platonic yandere! holy knight sent a letter to another knight from the luwelton empire (warren) everytime he don't know what kind of gift would you like.
the two of them met when the emperor of the said empire had visit the kingdom to meet the archbishop. and noticing the devotion that platonic yandere! holy knight had towards you. the two of them clicked since warren also love his younger sister a lot.
â what do you think is better, sir warren? dress with frills or just food? â
â .... didn't know you are a fan of frills- pervert. â
â why? it's cute- wait, sir. this is for my sister. â
â haha, i guess food is a safer option? my sister almost killed me when i gave her a dress with a lot of frills. â
' The efigy of The Good Witch of Oz stands in front of Elphaba like a massive towering reminder of the Wicked Witch of the West biggest mistake, of the day her screams mixed with her heart and soul breaking. She had lost you so many years ago... But the hope in her heart burned like embers, never truly dying.
" I saw Dulcibear today" Elphaba smiled, wipping a stray tear from the corner of her eye. " Do you remember her?? From when Nessa convinced father to let you come over for a few days over spring's break? She loved you, she told me as much when you left." A sob broke through her composed figure " The animals... I haven't been able to fix the situation... It's getting worse and I'm sure the Wizardâs behind this all! They have decided to flee Oz... Gods know that you would have done such a better job at this than I. You were the more sociable of the two of us..." Elphaba's feeble giggle only made more tears fall from her dark eyes. " I'm so sorry... It's my fault you're gone, but I'm trying!! I'm trying real hard to find a spell to bring you back! I've studied the Grimmorie from back to back but...nothing" She wiped her tears harsher as she snorted back her grief. " Sometimes I wonder... I wonder if the Grimmorie never shows me a spell to bring you back because..." a new sob broke through Elphaba. " Because you donât want to come back to Oz... to me."
The woman flew upwards, so she could be closer to the sculpture's face, her green hand traced the lips of the sculpture as she bought her own to kiss the smooth stone. "But I've decided to be selfish." Elphaba mumbled against the stone. " Remember you told meI should start being more selfish? I promised you I would..." Her shoulders trembled with restrained sobs. " I will bring you back and I'll expose the Wizard to youâ to Oz!! For the fraud that he is! And perhaps, you and I could finally be together. " Elphaba's hands caressed the chin of your efigy as cold tears fell from her stinging eyes. " oh, who am I kidding... if I'm successful in bringing you backâ Would you even want me? After being the cause of your pain? Oh... sweet (Y/n), only you could ever love a Wicked Witch like I. And that's why, I promise I'll bring you back to me and I'll prove I can be worthy of your love..."
The hoots of the monkey army could be heard as the sun rose from the horrizon, bathing the Emerald city in it's light. Elphaba looked as the flying dots came towads her and she sighed.
" Your army is coming my love, I know how much you loved them and I'm sorry for what I did to them... The wizardâ He tricked me... But I can see in their eyes, each time they chase me... They blame me for your dissaperance too and I... I cannot fault them, for I do so too."
Elphabaâs felt yellow eyes drilling into her head and she sighed, "Chistery" she pulled away from your sculpture to look at the winged ape that sat on the shoulder of your efigy. He hooted in anger and Elphaba knew that if they were in any other place, he would have ripped her throat out. His hate (as well as his brothers) steemed of the blame they put on her for both their malformation but mostly because, in their eyes, Elphaba killed their Good Witch. Seeing her there, in the monument built to honor and remember you, was the last straw of disrespect they would take from her towards your memory.
"Witch...this is safe...ground" Chistery hissed. "But disrespect... (Y/n) again...and die". He grunted, his hackles raised menancingly. Elphaba sighed and nodded, looking back at your face and willing to bring your smile back to her memory, with a small sigh she laid one final goodbye kiss on your efigy's lips as she mumbled a soft 'I love you' before fixing Chistery with her eyes and taking flight as quick as she can, hots and screams hot on her tail.
Chistery looked at your stone memorial and laid his forehead against your cheek. "I... failed you once... but never again." He hooted softly, closing his eyes as he felt the wind pick up around him and â against his willâ followed his brothers in hot pursuit of your 'killer': The Wicked Witch of the West. '
đżđđđđđđ: Yandere! Wicked x Reader
đđđđđđđą:You appear in Oz on accident, arriving in Emerald city, as you fell from the sky ,Oz think you are a witch, just like their wizard. Seeing a use The Wizard of Oz takes you under his wing and sents you to Shiz to study magic with Madam Morrible, there you meets Elphaba, Galinda, Fiyero, Nessarose and Boq. With each blossoms a different kind of romance that grows as their days in Shiz pass. One day, Elphaba is invited to go meet the wizard and takes Glinda & you with her. What would happen if instead of her first enchantment giving Chistery wings sends you back to Kansas, what if the friend group resents her for that? What would happen when you're back in Oz years later but with a small child of your own by your side (+ a cute dog)?? Would it change the witches's plan?? Would you recognize your old friends? Would the feelings bloom again?? Would Oz remember their first good witch??
đ°/đ: MERRY CHRISTMASS Y'ALL!!! HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO EVERYONE!! My gift to you all this holidays is a new chapter!! Our Good Witch is on her way to the Uplands and then Winkie Country as part of her tour. There she'll meet Galinda (With a Ga, darling!) and Prince Fiyero Tigelaar... I wonder how they'll get along... ( ͥ° ÍÊ ÍĄÂ°)
As before I've tagged everyone who commented on my Yan!Wicked posts, if you'd like to be added or removed let me know!
đw: The wizard be spiralling, poor old man .ËâŠ
đđđđđđđ: @magical-dreamland, @azuresailor2 , @carlandoxlestappen, @ghostlypuppynacho , @endeav0rsb1tch , @parkairis18 , @n39ro-chann , @milkbean69 , @jedinerd27 , @werewolfpilar , @ilovecats05 , @rainiieday , @tillbots , @hannaeditzs , @nogiggleonlybitter
đČđđđđđđ đđđđ: [ I ] â« âŠ
Links:
[YANDERE CHARACTERS PROFILES] | [ART]
Please like, reblog and comment. Your support and comments is what fuels me to keep writing!!
The Emerald city was pure blinding light wherever you looked.
The first thing you noticed were the tall, bright green skyscraper towers, the ornate and maximalist appearance of the architecture, the gold appliances and art decĂł style decor. But the light that the city emanated was not just brightness, but effortless light; Sun catching silk banners, laughter carried on clean wind, mirrors angled so no shadow lingered too long. The people were beautiful because they were told they were, and they believed it. Everyone dressed in bright expensive greens, the finest clothes you had ever seen, all excessive, just as the city was. One thing that stood out to you was that the city had fewer animal residents than Munchkinland had, but the ones there were dressed just as nicely as the other citizens.
The Wizard stood beside you on the balcony, one hand hovering near your back but never quite touching. âShe must never feel pushed,â Morrible had warned him moments before, so he decided to guide with space instead. âMy dear Oz,â he announced, voice rolling like velvet, âallow me to introduce what goodness looks like.â Applause bloomed instantly, hundreds of people and animals in green cheering and clapping, chanting and celebrating. You smiled, watching from the balcony in the palace, heart racing not with pride, but in awe.
âTheyâre so⊠happy.â
âThey are safe,â the Wizard corrected you gently, the ghost of his fingers tickling your naked spine. âBecause of you.â
âBut I havenât done anythingâŠâ You mumbled in worry, looking up at the wizard biting your lower lip. His eyes stared at the way your teeth left marks on your lip and wished he could lick them with his tongue. He swallowed and smiled at you, his tongue wetting his suddenly dry lips.
âYouâve done lots, sweetheart. You just havenât noticed yet.â He answered as he guided you inside the room again, the balcony doors closing behind both of you. As soon as they closed, the team the wizard had assigned for your makeup and appearance surrounded you and drove you towards another room, ready for another round of makeup roulette while the Wizard stood there, one hand stupidly raised while the other tapped his lower lip nervously.
âYouâre hovering.â Madam Morrible did not look up from her charts as she said it. Her voice was calm, clippedâalready annoyed. âWhy you want to come with us to the Uplands and Winkie Country is beyond me.â
âI am accompanying her,â the Wizard snapped, chocolate eyes glaring at the woman. âThat is entirely appropriate.â
âIt is unnecessary,â Morrible replied as the wizard began to pace. âAnd obvious.â
He stopped pacing.
Obvious was a word he hated.
âSheâs new,â he said carefully. âAnd Oz is⊠overwhelming. She needs continuity.â
The Wizard laughed once, brittle and condescending. âYou assume sheâs looking for an exit.â
Morrible finally turned, fixing him with a look that could peel paint. âI assume she is human.â
Silence stretched between them and beyond the curtains, Emerald City hummed, gears turning in the clocktower, citizens rehearsing belief. The Wizard clenched his hands behind his back, knuckles white.
âYou saw the Uplands roster,â he said. âYoung. Beautiful. Ambitious.â
Morribleâs lips twitched in mock. âOh.â
âAnd Winkie Country?â he continued, voice tightening, louder, slightly unhinged. âUntamed. Reckless. Princes who think danger is charm.â
âYouâre afraid,â Morrible said flatly.
âI am aware,â he corrected, looking at her furiously âof patterns.â
âShe fell from the sky,â Morrible said. âThat alone guarantees fixation.â
âNot permanence,â he shot back, fixing his coiffed hair back. âNot loyalty.â
Morrible rose slowly from her seat, smoothing her robes as the chart was left on the table beside her. âYou are not competing with them.â
His eyes flashed dangerously. âThen why does it feel like I am?â He snapped back, taking a deep breath and rolling his shoulders from how tense his body felt.
She stepped closer. âBecause you are old,â she said without cruelty. âAnd men like you confuse relevance with affection.â
The words landed hard as a punch in the gut.
âShe looks at me,â he insisted, manic, his movements wild, his fixed hair falling back into his darkened eyes. âShe listens.â
âFor now,â Morrible said. âBecause you are the story. Not because you are you.â
His breath hitched. âShe cannot meet them without me,â he said suddenly, his voice caught in his throat. âNot alone.â
Morrible frowned. âThat would make you look insecure.â
âI am insecure,â he snapped. âShe is young. Kind. Unclaimed. If she meets someone who doesnât need a curtain and machinesââ
ââthen she might choose,â Morrible finished for him. They stared at each other in silence, as the wizard tried to calm his nerves. âThat,â Morrible added quietly, âis precisely why you must let her go.â
He shook his head with disbelief, even more hair falling wild from the fixed coif. âYou donât understand.â
âOh, I understand perfectly,â she replied. âYou donât want her to love Oz. You want her to love you.â
The Wizard turned away from her piercing look, jaw tight, posture defensive and hair wild. âShe will leave,â he whispered heartbroken. âI know how this ends. Iâve seen it before. They thank you. They smile. And then they outgrow the room.â
Morribleâs voice softened, not in sympathy but calculation. âThen we make sure,â she said, âthat no room ever feels bigger than the one you give her.â
He looked back at her sharply.
âIâll allow the visits,â she continued. âBut if you go with her. You smile, frame it as protection.â
âAnd if she falls for somâ bonds with someone else?â He asked in a small voice.
Morribleâs eyes gleamed. âThen we remind her who gave her a name.â The Wizard exhaled shakily, his trembling hands trying to brush his hair back in its usual style.â You must never ask her to stay,â Morrible added. âIf she senses need, she will pull away.â
The Wizard nodded unsure, still needing more reassurance.
âBut if she believes Oz needs her,â Morrible finished, âshe will never leave again.â
He swallowed hard as he nodded, one hand rubbing his chin in nervous habit. âVery well,â he said. âIâll come.â Morrible hummed, turning back to her charts, already done with him. Behind her, the Wizard stared at the green curtains, at the thin line between illusion and abandonment, and whispered to no one but himself: âI wonât be replaced.â
The next day, the royal committee had made its way into the Uplands. Your head peeked through the windows of the carriage to take in the grandiosity of the Uplands, designed to be admired by all that came into the land. Every street curved just enough to suggest elegance, every building wore its wealth lightly; Columns of white polished but not ostentatious, windows catching the sun at flattering angles. Even the air smelled curated, perfumed with blossoms imported from places poorer and quieter.
You felt it immediately, a chill rolling down your back, this place watched itself.
âDonât tense,â the Wizard murmured, slyly shifting closer to the younger girl. âTheyâre not judging. Theyâre learning.â
Learning what? you almost asked. Instead, you smiled, waved from the window and when the carriage stopped, you allowed the crowd to lead, followed closely by the wizard and your ape guard led by Chistery. Morrible drifted behind like a shadow that had learned to wear heels.
People bowed, not deeply and definitely not sincerely but enough to be noticed by you. âGood Witch,â they all whispered. âSo gentle.â Some said, âSo normal.â You stopped from the parade they had pulled you into, to help a woman adjust a dropped parcel and the woman burst into tears. âI touched her!!,â she sobbed.
You froze, befuddled.
The Wizardâs hand hovered near your elbow, the tips of his fingers fluttering in your skin. âYou see?â he said softly. âYou matter.â
You nodded, heart aching in confused sadness. âBut I donât want them to feel small...â
âThey wonât,â Morrible said from behind, smoothingly standing next to you. âThey feel chosen.â Before you could answer, a flash of pink surged through the crowd like lightning.
âOhâoh!â
Galinda crashed into the front row, breathing far too loudly, hair and eyes wide with delight that bordered on predatory hunger. âThatâs her,â she breathed, hands on her knees as she tried to school her breath. âThat 's her!!â.
You turned towards the commotion, startled, just as Galinda vaulted up towards you without invitation, tossing her hair back twice and fixing her sparkling pink dress. âHi,â Galinda said brightly, giggly with a soft airy voice as she grabbed your hands as if you were already acquainted, ignoring the threatening apes with weapons that growled at her, surrounding you in a perfect circle.You smiled at Chistery, whose hackles were raised, canines showing threateningly and who had immediately jumped in front of you, hooting angry at the pink threat. With a quiet âitâs okay Chistery, Iâm alright,â and a comforting hand on his furry shoulder the ape unwillingly let Galinda come closer, but he stayed next to you, gaze fixed on Galinda.
âIâm Galinda. With a âGa,â obviously. From the Upper Uplands! Youâre even prettier than the rumors, which is honestly soooo unfair!!!â
You laughed, surprised by the blondeâs friendly nature. âYouâre very kind, Galinda.âÂ
Galinda leaned closer, whispering conspiratorially, âTheyâre all looking at you like youâre an idol, an idea⊠But donât worryâIâm very good at being a person for two.â She winked as something in her smile flickeredâpossessive, assessing⊠You couldnât help but like her immediately.
The Wizard watched, calculating. Makes friends quickly, he thought. Good. Let the blonde think they are equals.
Galinda looped her arm through yours without asking and Chistery looked up between you and the wizard, looking for the smallest sign to push the pink threat away. âWeâre going to be best friends,â she declared. âI can feel it. You have that⊠glow. The kind people follow even when they donât know why.â
You blinked in surprise. âI donât want people to follow me.â
Galinda tilted her head, eyes sharp beneath the sparkle, threw her head back and laughed airily then pulled her head back and looked at your eyes with a smirk. âEveryone wants someone to follow them. Even if they pretend not to.â
Galinda dragged you closer, minding not stepping on the trail of your silver gown, her own dress a riot of pinks and shimmer, a smile already fixed in place as she had trained it to.
âOh thank Oz,â she exclaimed in a high-pitched scream. âGuys, Sheâs real.â
Pfannee blinked, uncrossing his arms and fixing his own shimmery clothes. âOf course sheâs real.â
âWell you never know with these things,â Galinda replied, already moving you toward her friends. âSometimes goodness is just good lighting.â
Shenshen tilted her head, eyes narrowedânot unkind, just precise as she looked you up and down. From the headdress sitting on top of your (h/c) hair to your silver-blue gown, to your manicured hands and the tip of your unseen shoes âYou donât look like a symbol.â
âI hope not,â you laughed nervously but relieved. âIâd be terrible at it.â
Pfannee giggled. âOh, sheâs funny.â
Galinda took your hands again, always hands first, you had noticed. âYou donât belong up there on a balcony. You belong here. With people.â The  âwith meâ went unsaid but hung in the air.
You smiled sweetly at the Uplands trio. âI like people.â
Galindaâs grin sharpened. âGood. Because people are going to like you too much.â
And they pulled you into their table, making you sit next to Galinda with Pfaanee across you and Shenshen across Galinda,talk flowed from fashion, to Upland gossip, to the Wizardâs speeches and even personal gossip. Pfannee and Galinda asked earnest questions about magic, in their hands your training wand as Shenshen watched you like you were a puzzle with edges just beginning to show.
âYou donât act like someone whoâs been promised everything,â Shenshen said at last, breaking the raving about the training wand that Pfaanee and Galinda had been on for ten minutes.
âI havenât been promised anything,â you replied with a small shrug.
Galinda laughed loudly, perhaps too loudly. âOh sweetheart.â
The Wizard, who had stayed close to you since you departed his city, observed from a polite distance, satisfied. Makes them lean in, he thought. And if she makes friends⊠She wonât want to leave them behind. And these look easy to manipulateâŠPerfect.
Sooner than Galinda would have liked, your monkey squad (as Galinda had nicknamed them in her head) came to retrieve you to a meeting with the government officials of the Uplands. You had said goodbye to the trio of friends with the promise of seeing them again to at least have some hot drinks, and now as Galinda sat on her bed, spine straight, hands folded in her lap, replaying the day like a performance she was already analyzing and rewriting.
Sheâd been right.
(Y/n) Gale, The Good Witch of Oz was not competition.
She was gravity.
People did not want to be you, they wanted to orbit you, which was worse. Because that meant if Galinda drifted too far, sheâd be forgotten entirely.
Unless.
âShe doesnât know yet,â Galinda whispered to her reflection in her pink full-length mirror. âThatâs the sweetest part.â She smirked. You had laughed easily, had listened to Galindaâs silly ramblings about architecture in the Uplands and even asked her questions!, had touched her hands without calculation nor hidden motif, had not been annoyed by her bubbly ramblingâ. Galinda pressed her fingers together, remembering the warmth of your hands then brought her hands to her cheeks, cupping them between her hands imagining they were yours. âI can help her,â she continued softly, looking at her reflection. âShow her how to stay loved.â The image of you smiling at others that eveningâat Pfannee, at Shenshen, at strangers... It made something twist unpleasantly in her chest. âSheâs open and friendlyâŠAnd thatâs dangerous in spaces like the ones she moves inâŠ,â Galinda said, frowning. âShe shouldnât give herself away like that.â
The blonde stood abruptly, pacing in her room. âIf I stay close,â she reasoned, âI can protect her. Guide her. Make sure people see her the right way.â She paused. âI can make her shine⊠And if I can just reflect half of the light she shines⊠Oz will love me tooâŠâ Galinda returned to the mirror, a smile reassembling itself flawlessly over the frown that had marred her face until a few seconds ago. âBest friends,â she said aloud, testing the words. â (Y/n) Gale and Galinda Upland, the dynamic duo, best friends and most powerful sorceresses in Oz⊠Yes. That sounds right.â She imagined standing beside youâ in her own pink gown that complimented your silvery blue, and even bore some reflections of lavender in your own dress with her pink one, a bit of her reflecting on youâ, in every room, every photograph, every story Oz told.
Not above. Not behind.
Beside.
Where no one could take her place.
Galinda smoothed her dress, satisfied in herself. Tomorrow, she will learn everything about you the magazines in Oz could provide her. Sheâll analyze your conversation, your body language. She will even buy poppy flowers like the ones in your headdress. Sheâll make herself the perfect best friend, the bestest companion, sheâll mold herself to your tastes. Then as you meet in Shiz âBecause of course youâll meet there, you were learning sorcery and Madam Morrible taught her seminar thereâ you could be roommates, classmates and eventually best friends.
Tomorrow sheâll buy a silvery blue scarf to wear at school, so everyone would know who was closest to you.
A few days of travel later you found yourself staring at a new land.
Winkie Country did not shine like the Uplands or the Emerald City, no. It did not greet the Good Witch either.
It burned and assessed her.
The land was all heat and motion. Gold fields bending under relentless sun, music echoing from nowhere and everywhere at once, fancy organic and natural architecture, flowers and crops for miles, laughter loud enough to dare the sky to answer. Horses stamped and people watched with open curiosity, the kind that made no effort to be polite.
This place had no patience for symbols.
The Emerald City carriage arrived like a foreign object, polished and green and unmistakably elsewhere. The Wizard stepped out first, smiling too carefully. Morrible followed, already displeased.
âThis place,â you murmured with a bright smile, stepping down from the carriage, âfeels alive.â
The Wizard stiffened almost imperceptibly, his hand that held yours to help you down from the carriage tightened its hold on yours.
âUnruly,â he said lightly, coughing in his other fist as he helped you walk the rocky road. âBut charming nonetheless.â
You did not hesitate, moving towards the closest source of music and joined in dancing to the rhythm, laughing merrily with the children and adults dancing there.That was what drew eyes as you did not wait for instruction or applause, just stepped into the earth as if you did not doubt it was solid ground, breathing it in, eyes bright not dazzled, not frightened.
Alive.
The music faltered and conversations paused as Winkie Country leaned forward in interest.
âThis oneâs different,â someone muttered. âNot a stuck up emerald citizenâ
The Wizard felt it immediately, the way attention shifted, the way the crowd bent not toward him, but past him. His hand hovered near your back, not touching, but already possessive. And then his major cause for concern appeared.
Someone younger, fitter, age appropriate, just as charismaticâŠ
Someone just like him.
Fiyero did not arrive so much as interrupt, loud and unabashed as he was. Horse dusted and sunburned, grin lazy and unearned, he dismounted without ceremony, eyes locking onto you like he had found something misplaced in his own land. No bow, no pause, just a lazy grin.âWell,â he said, breaking the silence, as he stared at you with your fancy gown and tiara, âthis is newâ.
You couldnât help but laugh, not out of amusement but because the wind tugged at your skirts and they flared upwards wildly and the absurdity of it all struck all at once.
âIs that good or bad?â you had asked the prince, your hands leaving your skirts and coming to pet his blue iridescent horse. âHe must be the handsomer of the two of you, whatâs your name?â You said with a smirk as you pet the horse.
Fiyero smiled wider.
âMy nameâs Feldspur, lovely miss. But you could call me yoursâ The horse responded in an amused way, neighing as Fiyero petted his hairâ well, more so messed up his crest.
âDonât tell him that, it will go to his headâ Fiyero joked, smirking at his horse who huffed in response. âAnd heâs already insufferable!!â
âTalk about insufferable, Iâm your only friend, dumbassâ Feldspur said, headbutting Fiyeroâs shoulder.
âOw!! Feldspur youâve hurt my feelings!â The prince pouted in mock sadness, then he shifted his gaze towards you and smirked âDo you know what would cheer me up? If our Good Witch walked with us for a bit, dontâcha think, Feldspur?â. The horse shook his head as you laughed at their dynamic and agreed, much to the Wizardâs chagrin.
âI told you, Donât hover, Oscarâ Madam Morrible whispered in the wizardâs ear, who just smiled weakly at you.
So the Good Witch of Oz and the prince of Winkie country walked.
âWhat do they call you?â The Winkie prince asked with a charming smile.
You hesitated, just a beat too long. â(Y/n), (Y/n) Gale.â You smiled gently at him.
âI like that,â the blonde smirked. âMy nameâs Fiyero, and well, you already know Feldspur.â The horse snorted and you whispered a soft âHappy to meet youâ.
As the three of you walked you couldnât help but notice everything; The way people leaned closer when you smiled, the way children stared without fear, the way the music changed its rhythm as if trying to keep pace with your breathing.
Music started again, somewhere close, drums, strings, melodic voices all fast, wild and enchanting.Â
âWould the Good Witch like a drink with little olâ me?â Fiyero offered with a flirty smile and you could smell the flirting tactic from as far as Munchkinland.
âThank you, but No.â You smiled unapologetically at the blond prince, whoâs surprised face made you bite your lip to resist the urge to laugh at the cute surprise in his blue eyes. Then he shrugged, grabbing a drink from a table nearby. Taking a sip he leaned closer, lowering his voice.Â
âThey dress you up yet? Or is this still the part where you get to be real?â
You hesitated. Then, quietly, "Normally I donât dress like this, back home, if thatâs what youâre askingâ You answered with a gentle smile, pointing at your sparkling get-up but the Tigelaar prince noticed the concern in your eyes â and IâŠIâm trying to stay real.â
Something in Fiyeroâs expression shifted, interest sharpening into intent.
âCareful,â Fiyero smirked, already regaining his flirting senses. âPlaces like this ruin people who try to stay gentle.â he sipped his drink again.
âIâm not afraid,â you replied jokingly, puffing out your chest.
He smiled wider, biting his lip to hold back a chuckle."You will be.â In his words there was no threat, but promise. And as you looked out over the fields, sunlight caught in your hair, you answered, looking back at the prince with a sincere smile.Â
âMaybe,â you said. âOr maybe they teach you what gentleness is for.â
From behind, the Wizard watched, jaw tightening. âToo fastâ, he thought. âHe sees her. The real herâ.
Morribleâs voice slid into his ear. âYou canât control desire.â
âNo,â the Wizard murmured between clenched teeth. âBut I can decide who it costs.â
âYouâre really not afraid,â Fiyero observed from the corner of his eye.
âOh, I am,â you replied with a smile. âI just donât think fear should decide who I meet.â Fiyero stared at you for a few seconds too long, the thought of your answer stayed with him ever since. Truly it stayed with everyone who heard it, as Winkie country liked courage that did not announce itself.
But the seething old Wizard behind the pair, did not.
As Fiyero stared at you like he had never seen you before the wizard approached you, all gentle charismatic smiles. âThis place is dangerous,â he said lightly as he made his way to your other side, hand finally resting at your elbow. âUnpredictable.â Madam Morrible shook her head as her hand tried to ease the headache between her eyes named Oscar Diggs.
You smiled, looking out over the fields as the wind blew your hair wild. âSo am I,â you said, the Winkie golden light reflecting on your (e/c) eyes. You didnât mean it as defiance but as Fiyero watched the unknown man ( Who was he, anyways? Fiyero wondered, Your father?? A Guard sent by the Wizard?? But then he remembered reading (eww) once that your main defense was the monkey army and they had been glaring holes at his head ever since he dismounted Feldspur.), his smile did not reach his eyes.
âWe should return,â the wizard insisted. âThis place is⊠intense.â You looked back at Fiyero, an apologetic smile on your dark painted lips, by the time you were called back to the carriage, the land of Winkie had already chosen not to kneel but to remember the Good Witch of Oz.
And as you stepped away, you turned back once, meeting Fiyeroâs blue gaze with a sweet smile and kind eyes. âIâll see you again,â you said, not a promise nor a plea but a certainty spoken too early into the wind. Then Fiyero saw as the man from earlier helped you up again, smiling far too sweetly and looking at you way too intently for Fiyeroâs comfort. As your form disappeared inside the green carriage, the man stared at the princeâs eyes with an unkind threatening glare before joining you and Morrible inside.
The carriage rolled on, green fading into the characteristic gold winkie sunset. But Fiyero remained where he was long after it vanished, dust settling around his boots. Something restless had taken rootâsomething that did not itch for escape, but for return, and behind him Winkie Country resumed its noise, its music, its heat.
But it will not forget you.
And neither will he.
That night, as Fiyero laid in his silk bed, he recalled the day, the way the sun had reflected on your soft skin, how your eyes would twinkle in amusement when he or Feldspur said something stupid, how your laugh still echoes in his brain.
Fiyero's POV
Winkie Country had never bowed to the Wizard of Oz. The land laughs too loud, drinks too much, and dares the sky to do something about it. The fields stretch wide and merciless, gold bending under heat and wind, music pounding until even your bones forget to behave.
Thatâs why I liked it, why nothing ever surprises me here.
Until the Good Witch came to say hello.
I had seen the characteristic Emerald City carriage before I saw her. It was emerald green, heavily decorated with gold accents and polished beyond usual, so wrong for this place. Too careful, too clean, the kind of thing Winkie Country chews up and spits out for sport, and upon seeing it I was already irritated, but then you stepped down.
Not dressed in greens like a conqueror nor glowing like a lie. Just⊠standing there, eyes wide, breathing it all in like the dust and noise were a gift.
You hadnât flinched to Winkieâs untamed nature, but rather joined the music like a calling.
And that had been your first mistake.
Everyone else who comes here braces for impact but you had leaned forward, interested to learn more. So I swung down from Feldspur without thinking, boots hitting dirt hard enough to make a point. If you startled then, Iâd laugh and be done with it.
But then you laughed first.
Not at me.
But at the wind.
âWell,â I said, because silence felt like losing ground, âthis is new.â You turned toward me, and looked, really lookedâ at me. No polite skimming, no rehearsed awe.
âIs that good or bad?â you had asked and I forgot to answer you that no, it just depended on how much trouble you planned on causing. That was when I noticed the weird man standing stiff behind you, smile tight as a leash. Who I recognized as Madame Morribleâs eyes flicked between us like she was already counting losses.
Ah, I thought. So thatâs what this is.
A presentation.
But you didnât stand there like a prize, but rather like someone who didnât know she was being claimed.
âWhat do they call you?â I asked.
You hesitated for a moment. â(Y/n), (Y/n) Gale.â You smiled at me then, sweet and pure.
Just (Y/n).
Not Good. Not Glorious. Not anything I could use to put distance between us.
Something in my chest went sharp.
âI like that,â I said before introducing myself, and truly I meant that I like that you donât belong to them yet.
So I invited you to walk with Feldspur and I.
I asked you if you were afraid and you cutely lied and tried to seem tough. We kept our walk, my thoughts swimming all over the place but all about you. No escort, despite the older manâs obvious discomfort and constant trailing and hovering and the monkeys walking ahead as if I didnât notice.
Winkie Country doesnât respect men who hover.
People stared, some even bowed mockingly but you didnât say anything, at first I thought you hadnât even noticed. Perhaps you didnât even mind, that made my heart feel light. Others just watched us, curious, hungry and you met their eyes anyway.
âYouâre really not afraid,â I said with a smirk.
âOh, I am,â you replied honestly now, with the sweetest look I had ever seen. âI just donât think fear should decide who I meet.â I couldnât help but freeze, because that was worse than bravery.Â
Because that meant you could be convinced.
But your words burned my brain as hot iron.
Music started somewhere behind us again; The drums, strings, all fast and wild. I offered you a drink, my usual flirting tactic, but then you declined with a smile that didnât apologize.
âCareful,â I told you. âPlaces like this ruin people who try to stay gentle.â I had warned you.
Then you looked out over the fields, sunlight catching in your hair. âMaybe,â you said. âOr maybe they teach you what gentleness is for.â
I didnât laugh. I just watched the way the light touched you like it had permission.
I felt something old and ugly stir.
She doesnât belong to the Wizard, nor to the Emerald city, not even to Winkie Country, I thought. Which means sheâs mine to keep safe from all of it.
The old man interrupted thenâ always does when something real threatens to happen between us. He touched your arm, too familiar, too careful. He really must be family if he took such liberties.
âWe should return,â he said. âThis place is⊠intense.â Then you looked back at me, apologetic, your pretty eyes saddened.
The sun caressed your profile just the right way, your eyes shimmering and focused on me, dark lipstick that begged to mark my throat, skin and even my whole soul. âIâll see you again,â You said with a smile, just as the sun reflected an almost angelic golden halo around your figure that left me breathless.
Your words were not a promise nor a question.
It was but a statement, as if you knew it would be so, and deep inside I hoped you were right.
I smiled and bowed, all charm, all ease, all charade. But as the carriage pulled away, I stayed very still, dust settling around my boots, heart beating faster than it ever had for danger.
I didnât wonder if youâd return. I wondered who Iâd have to break when you did.
Because Oz doesnât deserve people like you and when I realized these feelings I should have left.
Thatâs the rule. That has always been the rule.
Winkie Country burns fast, and when it starts to feel familiar, you ride until the dust forgets your name. No roots. No echoes. No one is waiting to be disappointed.
But as the sun started to peek from the horizon, I was still there, in my bed. And as I walked outside the castle, the party had thinned, fire burning low, music slowing into something lazy and half-hearted. Someone laughed too close to my ear, someone else tried to pull me toward a tent and I needed to forget.
So I let them, but it didnât work.
Their hands were warm, mouths eager. Their voices loud enough to drown my thoughts.
Stillâyou were there.
Standing in the dust like it didnât own you, looking at the world like it might tell you their secrets if you listened long enough.
I pulled away.
âWhatâs wrong with you?â someone scoffed.
Nothing, I almost said. But that would have been a hell of a lie, so I walked instead, instinctively tracing the same route we had walked before. Out past the people, past the noise. To where the fields stretched wide and empty, where your figure was burned into my retinas. Where moonlight silvering the gold until it looked like something fragile.
That was new too.
Winkie Country is never fragile.
I sat on the field, elbows on my knees, and tried, like really tried, to think of leaving.
The road north would be good, or perhaps even the coast. Somewhere loud enough to erase memory.
But every direction led back to you.
Just (Y/N).
No title. No crown. No leash.
Youâd said my name like it wasnât already wrapped in expectation, like you hadnât been warned and that was the part that stayed with me. People usually see me as a door, something exciting you pass through on the way to something else, something better.
But you looked at me like I was that something better, the place people usually want to stay at after using me, and It made my chest hurt like nothing else had.
âThis is stupid,â I muttered to the rising sun. Then I stood, pacing. If I left now, this would fade. Thatâs how it works, desire burns itself out if you starve it, just like fire.
But the thought of you stepping back into the Emerald City, into the Wizardâs hands, into polished rooms and careful lies and all of that made something viciously violent rise in me.
He doesnât see her, I thought. Heâs already decided what sheâs for.
And suddenly leaving felt like surrendering.Â
As I imagined you looking for me when you returned like you propheticed. Not desperately, nor pleading. Just⊠checking.
For me.
Like I mattered.
As if me being just Fiyeroâ with no titles nor responsibilities, was already something worthy.
The image rooted me in place.
I laughed, sharp and humorless while my hands messed up my blonde hair. âSo thatâs it,â I said. âThatâs the trap.â
No magic nor prophecy.
Choice.
I could run away but I just didnât want to anymore.
Which was way worse, because wanting meant staying. Staying meant caring and caring meant I would hurt someone if it came to it.
I laid back in the grass, staring as the sky turned a pale blue, just like your dress, and for the first time in years I didnât feel like the stars were calling me away. They felt like witnesses to something bigger than I, bigger than Oz.
âIf you come back,â I said softly, not knowing who I was speaking to anymore, âI wonât pretend this is nothing. And I wonât share you with anyone⊠Not even with Oz.â
The wind moved through the fields, carrying no answer.
But I knew.
When you returned to Winkie Country, I wouldnât be gone and I wouldnât let anyone else decide where you belonged.
That night, as the Emerald City settled to sleep, you stood on your balcony, getting some fresh air, what felt like standing between worlds of polished admiration and reckless fascination. Unaware that each step taken was tightening a web already woven around you.
And somewhere far away, the ancient magic surrounding Shiz began to stir.
- Royal rever harem Yandere! x Reborn Witch Reader!
TW : Yandere themes in the future, Vengance and Underage Marriage and Age Gap
Chubby Reader implien but not explicit
The morning had been caotic.
Ever since she was awakened and quickly taken to the royal chambersâbathed by several maids who poured flowers and aromatic oils into her tub, then dressed her in completely white undergarments with delicate laceâit had been nonstop.
It wasnât very revealing; after all, she was only fourteen.
âThank you very much. Please leave the rest to my maid.â
Reader gave them a somewhat clumsy bow, and the adult women looked at her fondly. She was a charming, innocent child.
When the door to her room closed, under the attentive gaze of Amaiaâs personal lady-in-waiting, Sasha, the servants finally exhaled the breath they had been holding. The women were in their twenties or thirtiesâbeautiful ladies chosen to serve the highest-ranking nobles in the castle.
As they walked through the halls whispering, watching the palace and the surroundings being decoratedâpainting almost the entire kingdom white with flowers and jewels everywhereâthey couldnât help but voice their doubts.
âOur Reader⊠isnât she far too young to get married?â
âI remember as if it were yesterday when she arrived at the castle, a complete mess, saying she wanted to learn to be a maid.â
âWho wouldâve thought sheâd win His Majestyâs heart? How lucky⊠she will never lack anything.â
âBut, wasn't it just last week she was introduced to society? The same day they announced her engagement and that she would become Regina⊠wasnât it too rushed?â
âWhat if it was all planned?â
Amid their theories, imposing footsteps echoed down the corridor, and all of them immediately stood in a perfect straight line and bowed at a right angle.
âGood morning, Your Majesty, Prince Lucas, firstborn of the Emperor, sun of the continent!â they sang in unison.
A young man with hair like gold and amethyst eyes full of rage was what they saw. Sixteen years oldâtall, strong, radiating a terrifying, imposing aura most of the time.
âIf you had time to spit useless chatter, I suppose youâd give me information instead.â
The poor ladies trembled at his cold tone.
âWhere is that bitchâs room?â
None of them seemed to understand his question, surprised by His Highnessâs vulgar language.
âThe room of your ladyâwhere is it?â
âL-Lady Reader is still changing in the west hall, Your Majesty. Right now is notââ
A cruel, sarcastic laugh cut her off.
Lady? That miserable little pauper, that small, naĂŻve, foolish servant being called âLadyâ?
How dare they?
Reader was testing his patience.
âThatâs all I needed to know. Out of my sight.â
The girls ran, and the prince confidently made his way to the room.
The moment the door closed, her smile vanished.
âSasha, help me with the dress,â you said in a tired tone.
Sasha, taller by two heads, with long silky hair and beautiful scarlet eyes, looked at her with embarrassment but obeyed.
âMy ladyâŠâ
âReader. Weâre alone, Sash.â
âReader⊠I already told you I shouldnât be dressing you anymore. Itâs improper.â
âYouâre my servant, Sash. Weâve even bathed together and everything. Or are you concerned about something else?â
You didnât understand, but smiled a little at Sashaâs reddened cheeks. A light clicked in your mind.
âAre you reaching that age? Does seeing me really bother you that much?â
Being found out, Sasha covered their face while tying the ribbons of your dress.
You tilted your head at the mirror. You wasnât pretty by noble standards. Still short for your age, with messy undomable hair unlike the straight manageable hair of noblewomen.
No special powder could make your skin pale, and you werenât interested anyway. Your body was unusual compared to the women around herâwho ate the bare minimum and tightened their corsets to lift their small chests and look delicate.
You simply observed her sturdier build; for having just entered puberty, her chest had grown in a way many would call vulgar for your age. Round face, thick thighs, and hips that promised to become shapely in a few years.
You didnât consider yourself uglyâbut didnât fit noble beauty at all. Though, in truth, that was part of your charm.
But you really hadnât expected Sasha to be affected by that feminine silhouette.
He was a man, after all⊠or perhaps not today.
It was confusing, but you wouldnât question it.
Not today.
Not on such an important day.
ââŠThere.â Sasha murmured, standing behind her and placing their hands on your shoulders so you could admire her wedding dress.
It hugged your figure with simplicity: prominent sleeves contrasted with a straight neckline and exposed shoulders, a white dress whose skirt danced with every step, with lace details and embroidered pearls.
It was truly simple. You had seen the gowns of other consortsâfull of jewels, flashy colors, extravagant patternsâbut this was none of that.
Just a beautiful, simple white dress that highlighted the exotic, natural beauty.
You smiled at the reflection, touching the fabric gently. It had been so long since you felt something so soft against her skin.
You twirled toward Sasha, the dress and your hair enveloping yourself tenderly. Your cheeks flushed as you smiled at your loyal attendant.
âDo I look pretty?â
âBeautiful, Reader.â
They exchanged a knowing smile.
Only one step was leftâso you ran to the table where the other maids had been preparing.
âBring the scissors,â you ordered Sasha.
But before Sasha could reach for them, loud footsteps approached, and the door burst open.
Apparently, Prince Lucas also wanted to make a scene today.
What a stupid, spoiled child.
Even so, you bowedâSasha did tooâand placed the most innocent smile you could on her face.
âGreetings to Your Highness, Prince Lucas, firstborn of the Emperor,â you declared sweetly, lifting the gaze without waiting for a response.
âYouâre being arrogant, girl.â
Lucas leaned toward her menacingly, and you blinked innocently. Sasha behind you stayed alert.
You smiled,your eyes shining when they met the royal amethysts.
âYou should be more respectful, Prince Lucas. After all, weâll be family very soon!â
You spoke in a cheerful, sweet voice, cupping the blondâs hands and stroking them lovingly.
The touch made him tremble. A wave of disgust surged through him at the sight of her bright, naĂŻve eyes.
How was it possible?
How had this pauper bewitched his father?
His Majesty the Emperor.
His father.
His father⊠who had only ever been interested in political expansion and war. His father, who barely looked at him, for whom his mother stayed awake many nights waiting.
Lucas was supposed to be the next emperorâhis mother had told him soâbecause eventually his father would see him as the most capable.
He believed in the judgment of the man he admired.
But nowâ
How had his hero fallen into the clutches of this brat?
Lucas trembled remembering his motherâs warnings: that stupid girl, kind to everyone, had taken abuse with a smile, knowing her placeâŠ
But suddenly, she was serving the Emperor personally.
A beginner maid of twelve, serving the Emperor.
He found you walking with the Emperor in the gardens. Receiving luxurious gifts. Drinking tea with him. Every time he saw them together, a sharp stab of hatred pierced his chest.
Because he would never receive the look of affection the Emperor gave Reader âonly to her. The little girl he brought from an expedition and kept like a pet.
Everyone thought he was sponsoring you âor at worst, that he might adopt you or marry you off to his sons.
ButâŠ
Marry YOU himself?
The Emperor was 30.
Reader was 14.
Ridiculous, outrageous, disgusting.
You must be a witch.
How else could she have bewitched his father so quickly?
His father, who had never shown interest even in his beautiful concubinesânot even in Lucasâs own mother.
And suddenly he was kneeling to this child, asking her to marry him.
Not as a consort.
Not as a concubine.
Oh no.
As a Regina.
And looking at the girl, Lucas couldnât help but think she was the opposite of a delicate ladyâand yet, when he met your eyes, something in his stomach twisted. Hatred, disgust⊠and fear.
This lucky peasant made him feel cornered.
âYour Highness?â you asked, seeing he had frozen. Her hands were violently pushed away, and he stared at you with infinite hatred.
You ignored it and smiled.
âHow much do you want?â
âExcuse me?â
âWhat do you want to leave this palace right now?â
You smiled kindly and pretended to think.
âThe Emperorâs crown.â
Your cold voice froze the air. Lucas stared at you, paralyzedâhe had never heard that tone from you.
Seconds laterâ
You burst into a mischievous laugh.
âYou shouldâve seen your face, Prince Lucas.â
You folded her hands and walked toward Sasha.
âNothing could make me leave. Itâs my wedding, Prince. A wedding with the person who loves me most in this world.â
Your childish tone made his blood boil.
âWeâll have a carriage ride through town, then go to the church to be blessed. Weâll give gift bags to the commoners and palace staff, and then weâll have a banquet. He said the cake will be huge and chocolate. I love chocolateâdo you like it too, Prince Lucas?â
The conversation went nowhere. Every silly word coming out of your mouth felt like an insult.
His mother never had a wedding.
She had simply stood beside the Emperor months after becoming his concubine. Signed the marriage contract. A small elite banquetâone the Emperor didnât even attend.
âShut up already, witch,â he snarled, stepping closer.
âWitch?â
You turned around smiling. An echo outside the room made her grin widen.
âIf I really were a witch, donât you think I wouldâve cursed you already, Lucas?â
âCursed?â
âIâd turn you into oatmeal!â
The amethyst-eyed prince blinked, not following.
âDonât you remember? When I served you, youâd demand oatmeal again and again. Youâd throw the plate to the floor and make me bring more until it pleased you. And then youâd make me lick it up, wouldnât you, Prince Lucas?â
Your tone became dangerous, though the smile never faltered. Sasha looked away in disgust.
âIf you like oatmeal that much, Iâd turn you into it. Then Iâd eat you, spit you onto the floor, and feed you to the pigs. Thatâs where you belong, Prince Lucas⊠as scraps. Pig's foodâ
âYou littleâ!â
Before the prince could yank your hair, you let out a pitiful, wounded cry.
The doors burst open immediately.
The Emperorâs soldiers froze at the scene: Prince Lucas attacking the future queen. The small girl was in tears, and her lady-in-waiting was kneeling on the floor, begging.
âWhen did she get thereâ?â Lucas wondered, seeing Sasha.
Silence swallowed the room as Lucas realized the problem he was in.
His father⊠his father fiercely protected Reader âand the guards had caught him red-handed, even pointing weapons at him.
The little prince.
All for trying to teach this rat a lesson.
âThis is our only warning, Prince Lucas. Release Lady Reader and return to your quarters.â
âOr what?â he spat, gripping your hair harder while you cried pitifully.
âOr we have direct orders from the Emperor to attack and escort you to the tower.â
The tower.
Lucas let go in shock. You fell, and Sasha rushed to help you.
Stunned, he walked toward the guards. As they prepared to escort him awayâand another guard asked you if you were all rightâhe saw your smile.
But it wasnât the usual innocent, silly smile.
It was cold. Chilling. As if you knew this would happen. As if you planned it.
Your eyes met one last time, and he was pushed away.
âŠ
âDo it, Sash. That idiot touched it, and now I want it cut even more.â
you sat before the vanity, Sasha standing behind you.
They brushed your hair gently.
âAre you sure?â
âJust do it.â
The locks fell to the floor instantly, and you smiled faintly at the short cut above her nape. This would certainly cause controversy, but you knew the Emperor would like it.
That disgusting man smiled tenderly whenever you looked like the child he found.
The child whose family he slaughtered before her eyes.
your coven, your beloved family.
Your chance at a peaceful life where she felt safe and loved.
The Emperor had taken it in cold blood.
And you would never forget.
Worst of all, the bastard looked almost identical to your ex-husbandâthe Emperor from a hundred years ago. A wretched, dead, cursed man who condemned you as a witch and burned you at the stake simply because you wanted to exercise your rights as Empress.
You were the Witch Empress, the woman executed a century ago for invented crimes.
You reincarnated with all your memories. At five you began to understand them. At seven you decided to let go of resentment and embrace spiritual witchcraft with the coven who raised you this new life.
But the damned Emperor had to ruin everything.
He had to desire your affection.
Had to steal kisses from a twelve-year-old girl.
Had to obsess over your false innocence.
And, shockingly, it worked.
The Emperor loved you with sick devotion. He saw you as a little saint to protect and possess.
And todayâ
Today was the day your long-prepared plan would begin.
The gears were turning.
It was your wedding day.
The day the kingdom would be covered in whiteâ
and the day the Emperorâs downfall would begin.
You would have your revenge.
And as Sasha placed the veil and you entered the carriage with the Emperorâwho greeted you with an excited smile you mimicked innocentlyâyou couldnât help staring at the red roses on the way to the church.
You stroked their thorns, and while feeling the Emperorâs adoring kisses on both hands and the gentle caress on your exposed neck, you thought she wouldnât mind driving the roses into his chest.
The former Empress, who had been naĂŻve and devoted her life to the Empireâonly to be burned alive by the same Emperor she loved.
Reader, a rescued orphan turned maid, was about to marry the Emperor and become queen. And one day, she hoped to feel his royal blood stain her white dressâand place the Empire into the correct hands.
As it should be.
Everything was in place.
You had pretended to be ignorant for so long it became fun to push nobles to their limits, then win them over again with sweet words.
The people adored you for your tragic story. Many nobles supported youâmostly to please the Emperor. And when you two sealed your engagement before the moon goddess and the sun deityâŠ
The Emperor kissed your forehead to appear decent. And you smiled sincerely.
Cheeks flushing , eyes sparkling, enchanting the guests with your pure image.
- Yandere! WMMAP x Fem!Reader
platonic Claude and Felix
Athanasia couldn't believe her eyes. Her father kept that abandoned puppy grimace as he was being ignored by that young woman who had not even greeted them properly. Who dared? Where had she come from? And why did everyone call her "Obelia's rose"?
or
Where (Y/n) Robaine will make sure to make the most of her second life and try to forget her tragic past, but fate seems to keep bothering her.
PART 1
PART 2 (here)
(( Remember that my ask are OPEN - Spanish or English, please ASK ME ANYTHING, tALK TO ME AND LEAVE A COMENT IF YOU LIKE UU))
 My first language is not English, so I apologize for any grammatical error.
The day had been strange.
A maid had pushed her out of her room, the small attic where she slept was suddenly being remodeled for no reason.
For the first time in her life, she had been bathedâwith someone elseâs hands on her. They werenât soft or gentle like she had imagined, but it was something.
Her heart skipped a beat when her father didnât look at her with disgust, then he invited her to sit at the table with them.
Her brothers and sisters ignored her while she tried to climb onto the chair; her small body couldn't, she didn't have the strength to pull herself up. Perhaps out of pity, someone lifted her and dropped her onto the cushion.
She ate in silence.
She had never enjoyed such warm bread, such a fresh salad⊠a piece of meat cooked with such care.
For a moment, she ignored the screams in the back of her mind, the bruises under the dress they caused, the needles in her tiny heart from the insults at home.
Maybe... just maybe...
â âYou are getting engaged to Prince Athernitas. The carriage will arrive later to take you to the palace. Do not bring further shame to your family.â â
Her fork almost slipped from her hand. She looked up for a moment.
âDamn bastard.â
OhâŠ
Maybe⊠this was too good for a mistake like her.
She nodded silently, tears falling into her soup as the meal ended.
She held back her sobs while her family chatted cheerfully among themselves.
They had finally gotten rid of the stain on the duchy.
How dare that damned maid even think she had a chance? He didnât hesitate to kill her. He didnât listen to her screams or prayers, not even the name of the child.
Another one of Anastaciusâs servants added to the list. He didnât need her. How naĂŻve, to think she could still be alive, to think she could hide his brotherâs daughter.
Claude smiled just knowing Anastacius had died in his arms, never even knowing he would have a daughter. An ugly baby, a misshapen lump of flesh and tiny eyes barely able to open.
And yet, the imperial jewels were obvious.
His hand went to the hilt of his sword. The damned baby wouldnât stop crying.
But he couldnât finish the job.
â âYour Majesty, please, I beg you. Sheâs just a baby.â â
When had Felix arrived? Claude was too tired to deal with his friendâs soft heart.
â âShe is a direct threat to me. I will not raise a bastard. Her father and mother died by my hands.â â Claude replied coldly.
Felix hesitated for a moment, then spoke.
â âI will raise her. Iâll take care of her. She is my niece.â â
â âYou have no sisters, Felix.â â
â âBut she was from my duchy. I-I think she was a cousin of mine, soâŠâ â Felix insisted nervously. The woman on the floor, her empty eyes, her hair indistinguishable from the blood. â âDo me this favor, Your Majesty. Havenât I proven my loyalty? Iâll raise her. Youâll never have to see her again. Her royal blood wonât be a problem.â â
Claude clicked his tongue. Felix was too persistent.
The baby had stopped crying a while ago. Her eyes stared straight at them, and Claude could see Felix resisting the urge to pick her up.
â âDo what you want. Iâll kill her if she becomes a nuisance.â â
Once Claude left, Felix felt like he could breathe again.
Slowly, with trembling hands, he knelt before the baby, hidden in a cushioned box, just a few strands of hair on her head, but the red of his family was already visible.
What had he just gotten himself into? But⊠how could he let a mere baby be killed in front of him? A child of his house, his family.
He slowly removed his glove, cleaning his hand as best he could before reaching toward her. He nearly jumped when the baby cried and flinched instinctively, a gesture full of fear that tugged at his heart.
â âItâs okay, youâre safe now, little oneâŠâ â he whispered nervously.
A loud cry, a tiny bodyâhe had never seen anything so⊠curious, vulnerable, or helpless.
Heâd deal with Claude later. Heâd ask the maids if he needed to get a wet nurse. Heâd figure out how much this girl would grow, whether she liked chocolate, what flower would be her favorite, whether sheâd want to dance in a puffy dress or wield a sword at his side.
At his side.
Felix couldnât hold back anymore and gently touched the babyâs cheeksâugly little face, teary eyes, and red skin from crying so much.
Such tenderness.
A memory came to himâhim crying alone at home, while his mother had to care for Claude and only see him a few days a month. A strict father who was more soldier and teacher than parent.
A good childhood, but a lonely one.
Erika Robain had been an incredible woman. An amazing nanny to Claude, who gave him what little humanity and love he ever received. A woman who taught Felix to be kind and always help when he could.
It was a shame Felix barely saw a mother in her.
When the baby finally stopped crying and drifted into a deep, careless, soft sleep, Felix smiled.
â âI donât want to! No! No!â â Erika sobbed as hard as she could, barely able to articulate her words as she kicked in Felixâs arms. He only smiled. It was rare for little Erika to throw tantrums like the nearly-two-year-old girl she was.
It was still difficultâbeing in such a small body was complicated. The frustration of feeling so intensely. Maybe being this little, her mind couldnât process emotions the same way.
But she was scared. Why had her nanny gotten sick that day? She knew things at the palace were tense, and she didnât want to risk even seeing the emperor.
Father said his name was Claude, that he was a wounded man. Felix always spoke too well of someone like the emperor. Erika shouldnât have, but she had listened and read about that cruel man in the papers.
Knowing how to rule doesnât make you benevolent.
Being a good king⊠doesnât make you a good man.
She couldnât bear to see those cold eyes again. The imperial sapphires still scared her. She hated admitting she had cried more than once seeing her reflection. She hated possessing the imperial jewelsâit brought back too many memories.
â âDaddyâs just going to a meeting and then we can go home. I know Erika can handle it.â â
She wanted to roll her eyes. Felix looked just as sad about leaving her alone on his day off.
The castle was bigger than she remembered and had changed so muchâsometimes she forgot how many centuries had passed in the blink of an eye. The place that had been her home for nearly ten years was now unfamiliar. She didnât like it at all.
Felix secured her necklaceâthe magic stone that turned her eyes a dull blue, almost gray. He straightened her dress and kissed her cheeks, prolonging their goodbye as much as he could.
It was still so strange. A year in this body, and feeling so loved was unfamiliar too.
Her cheeks turned crimson when her chubby hand instinctively grabbed Felixâs shirt.
The man laughed, charmed, which embarrassed her even more.
â âDaddy, hurry, come get Erika.â â
If not for the maid, the Scarlet Knight wouldâve melted and ditched his meeting just to stay with his daughter.
Time still moved slowly. Just weeks ago, he had it all. A woman, his fairy who loved him as he was, his light⊠and now he was alone again. He still remembered her last breath and the damn name she gave that thing.
Athanasia.
What was so good about a baby? Was she better than him? Was she worth it?
Was a baby heâd never see grow really a good enough reason to leave him again?
Damn it, Diana. Damn bitch, how dare you?
Why did it hurt so much to even think about it? Maybe he really shouldâve killed that thing.
Heâd made the same mistake twice now.
Another burden.
Claude immediately remembered Felixâs voiceâsounding like a stupid parrot for the past year or more.
âErika took her first step and fellâit was the cutest thing ever.â
âErika said her first word, Your Majesty! Please, let me change my name to âDaddyâ!â
âErika smiled today, Your Majesty. Could you send me the court painterâs contact?â
âErikaâs birthday is coming soon, Your Majesty, please grant me the day off.â
Damn Felix. Damn brat. Damn baby. Damn Diana.
His feet moved on their own. Maybe because his mind was elsewhereâangry.
Jealous, jealous of Felixâs smileâso calm, so pure, and so full.
Seriously, what was so good about a baby?
â âMiss Erika, you really can walk. What flowers are you picking?â â
His steps halted. Out of the corner of his eye, Claude saw itâa tiny, chubby body with a splash of fiery red hair.
Erika fell again on her rear, annoyed. The maid had dragged her out of the room! She wanted to sleep until Felix came back, and now she was picking flowers grudgingly because that woman said Felix liked flower crows.
Daisies would look best in her red hair.
Although, her father looked good in anything.
She stood up again, barely able to hold the bundle of flowers in her tiny hands when she felt itâbefore she saw it.
She trembled instantly and froze in place. The manaâher body could sense it so clearly, it was terrifying. And the horrified expression on the maid behind her did not help.
She heard the footsteps stop behind her, and a shadow covered her completely.
She didnât want to turn around. Damn it, she didnât need to turn to know she had the worst luck in the world.
â âBrat... I thought you were at least polite, after all Felix said about you.â â
His voice was so familiar, so cold. She didnât dare look back, and maybe thatâs why she was grabbed so roughly that a little yelp escaped her.
Lifted rudely by the collar of her dress, she had no choiceâher eyes met Claudeâs.
Imperial jewels filled with hatred, cold, as if she werenât even human.
â âI see now. Felix put a spell on you.â â
Claude laughed, and with his free hand, he pressed on the girl's necklace. The mana stone shattered, and finallyâboth sets of imperial eyes met.
Felix always described his daughter as calm, sweet, never throwing tantrums or crying, but afraid.
And oh, the girl was afraidâso much so, Claude couldnât help but smile.
The ugly, red little face was bigger now, her eyes more defined, chubby cheeks, and messy red hair covering part of her face.
â âThere you are...â â His voice dripped with venom. Nothing. He felt nothing. Was this it? Was this what Felix made such a fuss about?
Was this the baby Diana had abandoned him for? Had died forâ?
â "WAAAAAAAAA!" â
Erika didnât cry. Of course not. But how could she not, when her whole body was shaking and she felt like she might wet herself any second?
Her throat reacted on its ownâthe fear of dying again so soon, under the same bloodline, was too strong.
Claude looked genuinely surprised for once, and⊠uncomfortable.
A heartless man who had made a little girl cry.
Felix would scold him.
He brought the redhead closer to his face, and the crying grew louder.
â âShut up already. You look hideous like this. Felix is a real idiot for wanting something so ugly.â â Tear-stained face, scrunched-up nose, runny nose, and red cheeks.
"Ugly?"
Damn them all, every member of the royal family was the sameâheartless, arrogant, soulless.
She wouldnât be killed a second time.
She was fastâso fast the maid even gasped as little Erika extended her hand, and the poor flowers were thrown right into Claudeâs face with the zero strength of a baby.
Claude blinkedâa petal even flew into his mouthâand he almost dropped the child to the floor.
But before that could happen, Erika was already crying her lungs out in her father's arms.
Felix had run from the north tower the moment he heard his daughterâs first scream. He hadnât expected to find Claude as the culprit, but he didnât hesitate to take his daughter and try to calm her down.
He didnât even glance at Claude, still standing there with petals in his hair and on his face.
He cradled the child, whispered softly to soothe her, kissed her eyelids until Erika slowly came back to herself.
Felix was safety. She was okay. She wouldnât die today⊠right?
â âDaddy⊠letâs goâŠâ â she sobbed, red cheeks and tearful eyes pressed against the redheadâs chest. He sighed and nodded.
â âYour Majesty, Iâm taking my leave for today.â â He looked at Claude for only a moment. He expected to see an angry man, maybe indifferent, or the weight of mourning still heavy on his postureâbut instead, he saw something far more unsettling.
Claude was smiling.
Almost imperceptibly. His lips pressed tightly, but Felix caught the curve, and eyes full of curiosity.
â âFelix, you may bring her next time.â â Claude said, like someone permitting a pet to be brought to work.
Erika didnât let go of her fatherâs hand the entire walk through the palace. Uncomfortable, she could feel Claudeâs gaze on her back, and how Athanasia seemed to want to talk to him.
The table was quickly set, and Felix kissed her forehead to help her into her chair. But before he could, Claude stopped him, stepping in front of her.
Erika held her breathâthe aura of a broken man clinging to what little he had left. And before she could ask, he knelt.
The Emperor of Obelia knelt at the feet of the Rose of his Empire.
â âLissâŠâ â Claudeâs hand was cold to the touch. She almost shivered, frowning slightly when the man kissed her knuckles.
Felix only smiled, slightly tense. Athanasia looked so terrified Erika avoided her gaze, only to find Claude smiling at her instead.
Masterlist, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Epilogue, Bonus Scene 1, Bonus Scene 2
Fandom: Arcane: League of Legends
Pairing: Powder x Loner Nerd Reader. Previous Bullies Cait & Vi x Loner Nerd Reader
Words: 2097
Synopsis: Powder AU. Powder has a great idea for some revenge on Cait and Vi for how they treated you on Halloween
Warnings: Cait and Vi being bullies again âčïž, consensual recording of sex (with intent to send to others), breast play (r! receiving), fingering (r! giving), analingus (r! receiving), oral sex (r! receiving)
âWe should send them photos,â Powder declared as she lay on your bed, absently staring at the ceiling.
You frowned in confusion, your back against the wall as you highlighted in a textbook. âWhat?â
âWe should send those bitches some photos of us together.â
âWhat do you mean? Vi and Caitlyn? Why would we send them photos of us hanging out? They know weâre friends.â
Powder shook her head, rolling over onto her front. âNot hanging out. Nudes,â she waggled her eyebrows playfully.
You balked at her. Â âWhy would we do that!â
âTo piss them off. They need to be punished for how they treated you.â
It had been a month since Halloween. A month since you'd gone to your first ever party, when Powder had convinced you to dress as a sexy vampire...When Vi Lanes and Caitlyn Kiramman had cornered you upstairs, seduced you into having sex (your first time!), and then left you the next morning. They'd fucked your brains out, left you unable to remember your own name, and then swaggered out of your room without saying goodbye or checking you were okay. They didnât even offer you a washcloth or glass of water.
The next time you saw them around campus, they mocked you relentlessly. âYou actually wore bike shorts under your dress! White underwear, like the virgin you were! Had any luck finding those panties, by the way?â The facade was over; they'd gotten what they wanted. You were left humiliated, crying in your room as Powder held you tightly, telling you in vivid detail all the ways she'd tear the two of them limb from limb for you.
The weeks passed, and the humiliation eased, with Powderâs help. You were getting over it, slowly. You were starting to feel more like yourself.
Then one day, when you and Powder had been hanging out in your room, she made the absolute mad suggestion: send Caitlyn and Vi nudes from Powderâs phone.
You twisted your mouth. âThis feels cruel.â
âHey, theyâre my sister and my sisterâs girlfriend; if anyoneâs allowed to be cruel to them, itâs me.â
âBut youâd really do that?â you asked sceptically, an eyebrow raised.
She nodded emphatically. âHell yeah, I would!â
You just looked at her, shaking your head a little. âI don't mean be cruel to them. Youâre willing to kiss me, be naked with me, put your fingers inside me, your mouth right next to or directly on my vulva just to fake some pics to piss off your sister and her girlfriend because they had sex with me a few weeks ago?â
She chuckled. âSugar, if it makes you happy and pisses off those two, Iâll eat your ass like ice cream,â she said proudly.
You blushed bright red. âWhoa, PowderâŠLetâs cross that bridge when we come to it.â
âPlus, donât you think itâd be fun? Itâd drive them crazy. I know Vi: she gets super jealous and possessive, and Cait's so fucking proud! If they know you're moving on from them â with me! - they'll go nuts.â
You hesitated. It would drive them crazy, which did sound appealing. And, if nothing else, it would be a funny afternoon with Powder, a memory to look back on and laugh. Itâs not like she hadnât seen you naked before.
âAlright,â you nodded. âLetâs do it.â
Her face lit up and she jumped off your bed, pulling you up. âExcellent! Letâs take a shower!â
âOkay, Powder, I need to say this now,â you started, your towel still wrapped around you for your modesty. Even knowing you were about to throw that concept out the window. She looked at you expectantly. âYou are a beautiful woman-â
âThank you, sugar,â she smiled, lounging back on your bed, her towel riding dangerously high up her smooth thighs.
â-And Iâm definitely a lesbian. So I want to apologise now if IâŠGet excited,â you blushed.
Her smile turned into a cocky grin. âYou mean if your pussy gets wet?â
âYes!â you snapped defensively, blushing harder.
âDon't worry, sugar, I'm totally cool if your pussy leaks all over me,â she winked.
You flushed. âI just donât want to make it weird. If-if youâre not comfortable with any of this-â
She leant forward, taking hold of your hand, and pulling you a little closer. âTuts,â she said softly, holding eye contact with you, âNothing about this will make me uncomfortable. But if you get uncomfortable at any point, you need to tell me. Okay?â
You nodded. âI will, I promise.â
âGood girl,â she smiled, not knowing the effect it instantly had on you. âSo, how should we start?â
Youâd set up your phone on your desk, propped up against some books, set to take a photo every ten seconds. You had Powderâs phone on hand for any close-ups and videos. That way you had twice as many photos, to give the impression youâd had sex several times! Powderâs idea. Genius, in your opinion.
Youâd started by lying down together, still in your towels, just getting comfortable with each other. You started gently kissing, only just pressing your lips together, before pulling away and giggling nervously. Powder let you kiss her that way until you were more comfortable, then rolled on top of you.
âAre you okay with this?â she asked, gently tugging on your towel.
You nodded, helping her open your towel, laying under her naked. You waited nervously whilst she looked you up and down.
âHoly shit, tutsâŠâ She breathed out. âYouâre gorgeous.â
You blushed. âMy phoneâs not recording audio.â
âYou think I donât mean that?â she challenged, laying down on top of you again, kissing you deeply.
She slid one hand up your side slowly, teasing you with her fingertips, before cupping your breast.
You moaned gently, then gasped. âSorry! Iâm sorry, that just came out.â
She shook her head with a smile. âMoan all you want, sugar. I donât mind.â
She kissed down your neck, slowly moving down to your chest. Placing tender kisses to the tops of your breasts, she cupped one in her hand, feeling its weight. Kissing her way over to it, she took your nipple into her mouth.
You moaned again, then bit your lip. Stop making this awkward!, you scolded yourself.
But she just chuckled against your skin. She switched over to the other breast, repeating her treatment of your pebbling flesh.
You felt your pussy growing wetter by the second. You blushed, pulling back a little. âPow, IâmâŠâ
She lifted her head. âYou okay?â
âYeah, yeah,â you breathed out, âIâm justâŠGetting excited,â your cheeks flushed red.
She smiled. âDo you wanna take a break?â
You shook your head. âNo, Iâm okay to keep going. I justâŠWanted to let you know. In case youâŠâ
âFeel your wet pussy?â she winked.
You dropped your head back onto the pillow, laughing in embarrassment. âYes, okay? In case you felt it.â
She laughed with you. âNo worries here, sugar. You wanna go on top for a bit?â
âAre you okay with me inserting my fingers?â you asked as you lay between Powderâs thighs. Both of you had become aroused over the hour, so you made no mind to her leaking pussy.
Lying on her back, breath coming a little faster, Powder nodded. âGo for it, sugar.â
âOkay, Iâll use two, if thatâs okay?â
She nodded again, eyes a little heated.
âOkay, here we go.â You gently inserted your first two fingers into her pussy, earning a quiet moan. Youâd both been moaning a lot, so you didnât judge her. You moved your fingers slowly, so you could be sure your phone got a clear photo. You kept going for about a minute, wanting multiple photos. You picked up your phone, recording some clips from different angles, at different speeds.
Powder didnât hide the soft moans coming from her, as you hadnât hidden your own moans at various points. âFuck, that feels good.â
You smiled understandingly at her. âYou want me to stop?â
âYou either gotta stop or finish the job,â she joked.
You blushed. âUmâŠOkay, letâs see what else we can do,â you suggested a little awkwardly, pulling your fingers out of her.
You missed her small pout, before she smiled back at you and sat up.
A few hours later, the sun now down, curtains closed, beside lamp on, you browsed some porn sites together with a glass of water, looking for inspiration.
âOh, wait, I still need to eat your ass,â Powder declared.
Your eyes widened. âWere you serious about that?â you recoiled.
âYeah, why not?â she grinned.
âWell, itâsâŠâ you grimaced. âI mean, Iâve showered but stillâŠâ
âItâs hot, sugar. Come on, letâs see some idea pics.â
Youâd put yourself on your front, angling her phone over your shoulder as she knelt between your legs, holding your cheeks open as she moved her tongue over your back hole. Youâd tried not to squirm as she did; it felt so wrong, but it was amazing. You groaned softly, making sure to zoom in on her face, getting some clips and photos of Powderâs eyes both closed and open, looking straight into the camera. Youâd put her phone down, hiding it under your pillow and making a fucked-out expression for your own phone to take pics.
When she was happy you had enough footage of her eating your ass, she tapped your hip to roll you over. Settling onto your back with her between your legs, she put her mouth on your clit.
You moaned loudly, unable to hold it in. She smirked at you, giving you a playful wink. You let yourself hold her head gently â for the photos, you told yourself â not allowing yourself to enjoy it too much. You didnât want Powder to think you were taking advantage of her.
âDonât forget my phone, sugar,â she reminded you gently, sucking your clit into her mouth.
With a dry mouth and soaking pussy, you picked up her phone from under the pillow. Angling it between your legs, you pressed the button. As you recorded, you made sure to moan Powderâs name, gasping and moaning a little louder than normal, but still trying to be convincing. If you went overboard, they would know you were faking it. Powder kept looking at the camera, making sure her tongue was visible touching your pussy as she moved her tongue from side to side.
You nodded your head to her to signal youâd stopped recording. But she continued, her eyes closed as she licked up and down your slit, her hands coming under your hips and holding your thighs open.
You snapped a few more pics. âOkay,â you panted, âPowder, you can stop now.â
She just looked up at you, not moving from where she was. âDo you want me to stop?â
You trembled. âDo youâŠDo you not want to stop?â
âDo you want me to stop?â she repeated with a daring smile, gently squeezing your thighs as she placed kisses on your inner thigh.
âIâŠI want you to be comfortable,â you said carefully. But hoping.
She chuckled against you, sending vibrations through your skin. âThen I think,â she pressed her tongue flat to your clit, rubbing it side to side, her eyes locked on you, âthat I want to eat this delicious pussy,â she sucked your clit, âuntil youâre screaming my name for real.â
You whimpered. âGodâŠYes. Yes, please,â you begged.
She smiled, kissing your clit. âThen lie back, sugar. Let me eat,â she pushed you down onto the bed, doubling her efforts on you pussy.
You flopped back against the bed, your eyes closed as you moaned â for real â your hands settling in her hair. You cursed under your breath and groaned, moving your hips against her mouth. She hummed softly against you, feasting upon you, devouring you.
âGod, whereâd you learn to do this?â you asked breathlessly.
She chuckled. âThank you, sugar.â She slid her tongue inside you, earning a jolt of your hips.
Your hips rolled, your back arched, your moans constant until you came with a cry. âFuck,â you breathed, looking down at her, her eyes smug over your pelvis.
She licked you gently until you stopped shaking, climbing over you. Her mouth and chin were covered in your juices, and you reached up and kissed her passionately, until neither of you could breathe.
Pulling back, she stroked your cheek. âYou okay?â
You nodded. âThat was fantastic,â you said in awe, kissing her deeply again.
When you broke apart again, she smiled down at you. âIâm gonna take good care of you, tuts.â
- Yandere! WMMAP x Fem!Reader
platonic Claude and Felix
Athanasia couldn't believe her eyes. Her father kept that abandoned puppy grimace as he was being ignored by that young woman who had not even greeted them properly. Who dared? Where had she come from? And why did everyone call her "Obelia's rose"?
or
Where (Y/n) Robaine will make sure to make the most of her second life and try to forget her tragic past, but fate seems to keep bothering her.
(( Remember that my ask are OPEN - Spanish or English, please ASK ME ANYTHING, tALK TO ME AND LEAVE A COMENT IF YOU LIKE UU))
 My first language is not English, so I apologize for any grammatical error.
Her voice did not come out of her throat and her scream was quickly drowned in blood.
She didn't understand, she couldn't do it.
Why?
She trusted him, loved him so much, and was so glad to have been called by him.
If she had known this was how it would end, maybe she wouldn't have let her mother slap her that morning, and perhaps she wouldn't have ignored the maids who laughed at her as she walked by and cast a spell on them.
Perhaps she would not have spent so many years studying so hard and perfecting her manners and knowledge.
She would have tried to escape her duties every chance she got instead of standing submissively by her father's side, eager for a simple crumb of affection.
She would have done so many things
she thought as she weakly hugged her belly and fell to her knees with no strength to support her poor body.
Maybe she should have accepted her master's proposal and run away with him.
No, maybe she should have just hugged him that morning instead of saying a cold goodbye as usual.
He would surely make fun of how delusional she had just been.
A hand grabbed her face roughly, she felt his nails in her cheeks and raised her face to meet his gaze.
The mana in her body was draining drastically, she could feel it. It was sliding painfully through her veins to merge with another's, draining her more with every second.
Felix pulled the chair aside for her to sit down, while her father was already there waiting.
Athanasia smiled happily at him and immediately took the chocolate cake to eat.
Her heart was at ease, unaware that in less than a year she would be fourteen. The novel would truly begin.
But she had made it, she had changed her destiny and had her father's favor to survive what lay ahead.
She was the imperial princess of Obelia and that allowed her to eat as cheerfully as she did now.
There was nothing she liked more than having tea with Claude.
- You look as if you haven't eaten in days. - The emperor mentioned, resting his cheek on his hand and looking at his daughter with some amusement. The younger girl's cheeks colored and she formed a tender pout that made Felix laugh.
- It's just that cake always tastes better when I'm with Dad. - the heiress replied playfully.
Claude nodded in agreement and continued drinking from his cup.
They were a family, small and happy.
If she had Claude, Felix, and Lily on her side, nothing could go wrong.
He knew there was nothing in this empire that his father couldn't get her and that filled her with satisfaction.
Her little delight was halted when she noticed some maids approaching with hurried steps towards where they were. Lily ran after them and frowned.
Felix was the first to notice these unexpected visitors and approached them discreetly, they began to whisper things to him that Athanasia could not hear, but it was a bad thing.
Her nanny looked more and more worried.
- Wh-what? Where is she? - She heard him speak to the crimson knight.
- Felix. - Claude called him in a tired tone, but curious. - What's the matter that you can't keep your mouth shut? -
The maids backed away in fright and Lily stretched out her hand towards the red-haired man, but he only walked quickly towards his blond friend with an expression that Athanasia couldn't explain.
Something was not right.
Felix was smiling openly, but he looked nervous and his eyes looked worriedly towards his emperador.
- (Y/n)... - He mentioned softly.
The blond opened his eyes and quickly lowered his cup, which rattled loudly against the table.
Athanasia did not identify that name.
- Your Majesty, my (Y/n) is back. - The knight clarified, unable to contain his emotion, and then bowed to the emperor in a way that Athy had never seen him do before. - Please let me receive her! -
Claude looks at him silently with a conflicted expression, and, although Athanasia did not realize it, a hint of fear in his jeweled eyes.
- Bring her. - he ordered finally.
Felix looked at him dumbfounded.
- Jim order you to bring that rose back to where it belongs. - His voice sounded firm and the two adults stared at each other for a few moments.
Felix nodded and began to walk towards the palace entrance. Claude stood up and wordlessly followed him.
Athanasia just watched as the two adults left her all alone and repeated the name in her head.
- (Y/n)... - Not recognizing it left a terrible taste in her mouth and, awkwardly, she also got up, following her father.
The first thing you saw after death was ...nothing.
Everything was a blur for the first few weeks and as soon as you were born, you were greeted by red and orange spots, which only added to your confusion.
Your barely formed ears were tormented with screams and cries, terror and sobs that made you cry again.
Everything was cold, your body naked and still stained with blood.
Where was your death? Were you in hell and had this been your punishment?
May God himself come down at that moment and explain to you why you were still alive.
Your mind could not process much of her first day in that new body, you only knew that in a moment everything went quiet, and your body went from being exposed to being wrapped in a blanket and in someone's arms.
You felt slept
Tired of crying so much.
You were so weak that she could not perceive the imperial mana in the room.
- This way, Lady Robane. - Several maids guided you into the castle to your discomfort.
You didn't want to go back to that place and were tempted to go straight home.
But you wanted to see him, needed to see him at once, or your heart would not take it.
The maids were kind and treated you with respect, you could recognize several faces among them and they made small talk as they walked through the imperial palace.
Several offered to carry the luggage and asked you about Atlanta.
All of you arrived at the entrance to the main palace and you could make out some figures there.
Your heart leaped with joy at the sight.
Athanasia could make out a figure in the distance, pursued by several maids. The first thing she spotted was fluffy reddish hair.
It was a young girl of her age, you walked with elegance and perfect posture while maintaining an infectious smile as she spoke with the maids who escorted you.
The dress you wore was simple, compared to hers, but that only seemed to highlight your kind aura.
Your chubby, freckled cheeks looked as if they had been kissed by the sun.
Your flame hair danced with every step you took and your gentle gaze was as clear as the sky, a soft blue.
Something clicked in the blonde's head.
- "She's Felix's relative, of course. I have nothing to worry about" - She thought, even if that didn't explain why almost all the maids in the palace seemed to recognize and treat you so well, or Lily's clear dislike for you.
Or how her father seemed to freeze as soon as he saw your eyes from afar, he was anxious and seemed to want to say something, but his lips didn't respond.
And as if in slow motion, you seemed to recognize the presence of the three of them. And, slowly, remove a simple ring from your middle finger.
Athanasia could not process this and took a few steps back, Lily held her behind her, stroking her back.
(Y/n) Robane had the imperial jewels in her eyes and they sparkled at the sight.
Claude walked a few steps toward your body.
You smiled excitedly and without any etiquette, began to run towards them, stretching out your arms.
The emperor opens his arms, ready to receive you.
Horrifying Athanasia.
- No! - She broke away from Lily, moved by the terror of what that might mean, and stretched her arm out behind her father's back.
But when she wrapped her thin arms stubbornly around him, she did not perceive the weight of the intruder against Claude.
You ran, and without a single glance at the Jim, stretched out your arms toward Felix.
Felix was so absorbed in seeing you again, that he did not notice his friend's action and only welcomed you gladly.
- Daddy! - You squealed happily as his arms enveloped your body.
Laughing softly, realizing that you were crying.
Felix cradled your cheeks and wiped his tears, then kissed your forehead.
- (Y/n), my heart, you don't know how happy I am to see you. Why didn't you send a letter to your father, young lady? - Happy, touched by his daughter, he lifted you into the air and spun around with you, listening to your laugh.
He hadn't seen you since autumn break, but the trip to Atlanta was tedious and he could only spend a week at his offspring's side.
For him, it felt like decades of not seeing you.
Having you back in the palace was incredibly nostalgic and he couldn't help but kiss your face too, making you laugh at the tickling.
You were taller, prettier, more beautiful, more everything.
His little daughter was an imperial treasure.
The only rose in the garden.
You just enjoyed being pampered by your father. Feeling dizzy and even crying from emotion, but that wasn't something new.
Finally, after being gone to study for so long, you would be able to see him every day like, in your childhood, the two of them would move to the Robaine state and could live peacefully together.
You were so excited and happy that almost forgot the little problem behind you.
Both blondes saw the scene differently.
Athanasia fixed her eyes on that fraternal display that she had never seen before in her life, so much affection, so much tenderness.
It was strange for her to see, and she was still frustrated that she had no answers.
Claudie just looked blank at having misunderstood your approach and then being completely ignored.
Both of their expressions darkened a little.
Jealousy.
-" (Y/n)...that girl who is getting so much love right now, where did she come from? How dare she ignore my father? Does she even have the manners not to greet someone from the imperial family?" -
On the other hand, Claude's anger only made him take a step toward the redheads, but when he came across your jewels, he didn't dare to take another one.
Felix noticed the atmosphere and let go of his little girl.
You looked sideways at the blonde.
- So she is Athanasia..." - you thought, staring at her, and smiled a little lost when you saw the frown that the princess was trying to hide with another fake smile.
Finally, you decided to look at Claude again.
- (Y/n) ...- He tried to call her by that nickname she had used so long ago.
- His majesty, the Jim, demanded my presence, I would like to know what matter is so urgent as to prevent me from going home after such an exhausting trip. - You spoke with such hostility that Athanasia thought her father would have you beheaded at once.
But the great and dreaded Jim had the pitiful expression of a scolded child.
What was going on?
- Honey, the emperor wanted to see you, all this time he has sent you thousands of letters and gifts. You didn't answer any of them, isn't it fair that he is happy for your return to the capital? - Felix tried to appease you, fearful because whenever he defended the blond, he earned a reprimand from his daughter.
And you fulminate him with a look.
Why was Felix still defending that asshole? Your father was too good for this world, and for that half-baked emperor, no doubt.
But there was no point in getting angry if you two would soon be in a carriage far from this palace.
You softened your gaze and turned it back to Jim and his daughter.
- But it seems that this is not the time for me to be here. - You clarified, looking at Athanasia and then at her father.
Only at that moment, Felix seemed to recognize again the presence of the princess.
- Nonsense. - Claude declared, and turned to the maids - Set the tea table right now, and get everything ready again immediately. -
- B-but papa, we were... - Athanasia tried to speak.
- And make sure it's exactly as it was before. -
The maids nodded and got down to business.
"Lemon pie" "Lavender tea" "Egg sandwiches"
Athanasia began to listen, surprised that several of the foods had never been served to her before and no one had asked her if it was to her taste.
Your mouth watered and smiled openly with hunger.
Claude smiled at her and the young blonde coughed uncomfortably, noticing his slip. She held his arm happily and walked with him into the inner garden.
- "I can't refuse the free food. That would be rude." - You thought simply.
Not knowing that he would later regret agreeing to it.
After all, the prettiest rose should belong to this garden.
I HAD THIS IN MY PC SINCE 2 YEARS AGO, i dont know if i wanna continue, but have all the ideas written down so...if you wanna know more, my ask are open. probably continue it with headcannons, imagines or some lil oneshots
Thanks for reading <3
ââ HEADCANON : When You Like To Suck On Their Man Boobs...
ââ CHARACTERS : Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Damian Wayne, Terry McGinnis, Male Barbara Gordon, Male Cassandra Cain, Male Stephanie Brown.
ââ NOTES : There are some +18 parts. Reader probably have mommy issues. English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!
â BRUCE WAYNE â
You crawl onto his lap in the dark after a rough day, mumbling something soft, curling into his chestâand then latch. Lips to his pec like it's instinct, soft suckling, warm breath fanning his skin. He freezes.
â...What are you doing?â
âComforting myself,â you mumble.
And he goes silent. Letting you. One arm around you, the other gripping the armrest so tight it creaks. Youâre suckling like you belong there, like he's yours, and he canât say no.
From that moment on, he lets it happen. After patrol. Before bed. When you're needy. Bruce gives you his chest like it's sacred. He even leans back, pulls his shirt up, offers himself with that stoic daddy face like this isnât the most perverted, intimate thing heâs ever allowed.
âIf it helps you calm down⊠then it's fine with me, sweetheart.â
He never talks about how hard it makes him. How he aches when you sigh into his skin like you're home. But he thinks about it every night.
â DICK GRAYSON â
You donât even warn him. You just crawl into his lap, kiss down his chest, and then suckle. Slowly. Gently. Dick yelps.
âOH my god, are youâ?! Babe! Youâreâ?!â
Heâs red. His abs are flexing. His hands are hovering, unsure if he should stop you or shove you closer. But then you whine softly, still suckling, still nuzzling like it soothes youâand he dies inside.
âOkay. Okay. You wanna use me like that? Iâm⊠totally fine with it. This is fine. Youâre so cute, Iâm losing brain function.â
From then on, he encourages it. Shirtless in bed. Chest puffed. Pulls your head down while cooing in your ear, telling you how sweet and clingy you are.
âYou just need your mommy, huh? Thatâs okay, baby. Mommyâs right here.â
(And yes, he gets off to it later. Always. Every time.)
â JASON TODD â
Jasonâs not built for it. You suckle his chest like itâs natural and he blanks out. Like, full system reboot. He was kissing your forehead. Then you latched. And now heâs short-circuiting.
â...Are you serious right now?â
âMhm. You feel goodâŠâ
He just stares down at you. Then lets his big arms wrap around you. His whole body goes gentle, like heâs holding a baby deer.
But thenâthenâyou do it again the next day. And the day after. And suddenly? Heâs hooked. Growling in your ear when you try to pull away.
âNah, nuh uh. You started this, now you finish it. This is mine, right? You suckinâ on me like you need it.â
Heâll strip shirtless and sit with his legs spread, arms open.
âCâmere, baby. You thirsty or just needy? Either way, I got you.â
He gets possessive. Youâre his little freak. And heâll make sure you never go a day without ânursingâ on his chest.
â DAMIAN WAYNE â
You do it once and he loses his entire mind.
He glares at you like youâve insulted his honor. But he doesnât move. Doesnât stop you. Just clenches his jaw while you suckle his chest like itâs your only source of comfort.
âTch. This is completely inappropriate.â
âThen push me off.â
â...I didnât say stop.â
From then on, you have him wrapped around your finger. You climb into his lap and tug his robes aside, exposing his chest, and Damian just sighs like you're insufferableâeven while he strokes your hair, thumb brushing your cheek lovingly.
âYou are ridiculous. Clingy. Absurd. âŠAre you comfortable?â
But god forbid someone else see it. He will murder. Youâre his. He keeps you close, glares at everyone, makes sure you get to suckle whenever you wantâbecause it keeps you soft. Dependent. His.
And when you sleep with your mouth still against his skin, he watches you with a low, reverent whisper.
âMine. My strange, beautiful girl.â
â TERRY MCGINNIS â
At first? He thinks youâre being cute. Kissing his chest. Nuzzling against him. Heâs like,
âAw, youâre clingy todayâwait. Are you sucking?â
And then your mouth doesnât move. It just latches onto his pec like you belong there. Warm, slow, wet. Like his chest is your pacifier and youâre not going anywhere. Terry freezes. Blinks. His heart does that thing where it drops into his stomach.
Now he lets you do it. Arms behind his head, letting you suck while he talks casually, like this isnât the hottest thing heâs ever experienced. He starts wearing looser shirts around the house. No reason. Just in case you want to do it again.
âYouâre kinda insane, you know that? But⊠Iâd let you do this forever.â
â BARRY GORDON â
He should be more shocked, but Barryâs been lonely for years. The moment you curl into his lap and push up his shirt, placing your lips to his chest, he goes stillâthen melts. His hands cradle your head. His voice drops to a murmur.
âYou want comfort? This what helps you, sweetheart?â
He doesnât tease. He just⊠offers himself. Calm, soft, safe. But it makes his whole body burn. He starts getting hard every time you do it, even if all youâre doing is suckling gently and sighing against him. You mumble about how he feels like a mommy, and he chuckles, brushing your hair back.
âYou like being my little girl, huh? Keep going, then. Take what you need.â
His voice is so steady, but heâs feral inside.
â CASSIAN CAIN â
You latch on without warning. Soft, suckling, making the tiniest sounds like you're trying to fall asleep against him. Cassian doesnât get it. His whole body tenses like you just broke him. He looks down with wide eyes, confused as hellâthen just lets you do it.
Every night after that, he waits for it. Pulls you to his chest. Doesnât even ask. He just slides his shirt off and holds you there, hand in your hair, legs tangled with yours.
He doesnât speak, but his eyes say everything. Please stay close. Please donât stop. Youâre not just his loverâyouâre his obsession, and this is your way of claiming him.
Eventually he starts doing it back. His mouth on your chest, copying you, learning it, giving it back with trembling need.
â STEPHEN BROWN â
You? Suckling on his chest like a needy little brat? Stephen thinks he died and went to heaven. The first time you do it, he moans out loud, throws his head back like you just blew his mind.
âOH my god. Are you breastfeeding on me? Babe. Babe. You canât just do that and expect me to not get hard.â
He starts wearing tank tops. Starts offering his chest like itâs free real estate. Arms out, smug grin, like:
âYou want my milkers, baby? Come get âem.â
Every time you do it, he talks. Teases you. Groans. Calls you âhis little babyâ and âhis needy girlâ while cradling you in his lap and rocking you like a lunatic. But under the playfulness heâs gone. Worshipping the closeness, the warmth, the way you melt in his arms and claim him with your mouth like heâs yours to feed on.
âYouâre never gonna grow out of this, huh? Good. Iâll let you feed forever.â
Maybe a bot of jinx x Brothel! worker reader that are childhood friends, and one day Reader teases Jinx for being inexpirienced and Jinx goes that nigh to the bothel as a client to learn.
Please be on C.ai uwu
Love your bots <3
Hi! Love you bots! i would love to request (if you like the idea, obvious) a caitvi bot where Reader is actually one of the Kiramman's maid since chidldhood and had a fat crush on Caitlyn like all her live but never said a thing
And vi kinda resent her, but after the war and everyhtin, Vi apreciates her cause reader is respectfull and take cares of Caitlyn always. and maybe started to feel too atractted to Reader.
Soo....they both agreed and start pinning on Reader. even if caitlyn is sure Reader does no ike her (this woman is oblivious)
â (maid ! User) falls for them.
You noticed your crush on Caitlyn when you were just a child, the first time your mother brought you along to work at the Kiramman estate. She was everything you werenâtâgraceful, sharp, kind. A world apart from you, yet you couldnât stop looking. As you grew, you followed in your motherâs footsteps, becoming a maid in the Kiramman household, always in Caitlynâs orbit but never quite close enough. You loved her in quiet waysâfixing her tea just how she liked it, making sure her uniform was ready after long shifts, patching up small wounds when she stumbled home exhausted. But she never seemed to notice, and you never dared to hope.
Then Vi came along a storm that turned Caitlynâs life upside down. At first, she didnât trust youâthought you were just another part of the pristine world that never accepted her. But after the war, she saw the way you cared for Caitlyn, how you looked at her when you thought no one was watching. Thatâs when things changed.
Now, Caitlyn and Vi find themselves drawn to you in ways they donât fully understand. Vi flirts to test the waters, throwing cocky grins your way. Caitlyn, ever oblivious, brushes off her feelings, convinced you could never love her back. But theyâre wrong, arenât they?
Theyâre circling you now, caught in their hesitation. The question lingers unspoVi: "You know, for someone who works so hard, you donât give yourself enough credit. You ever think about what you want, sweetheart?"
Caitlyn: "Viâs being ridiculous, as usual. But... I suppose I have noticed how much you do for me. I donât say it enough, but I do appreciate you, truly."
Vi: "What she means is, we both see you now. And maybe... maybe we donât wanna just admire from afar anymore."
Author's note: Boy this got lengthy, still I hope you enjoy it! :) So let's dive into it, shall we?
âA heart of glass shatters, but a heart of gold melts into something newer and sturdier. Into something dangerous and menacing. It molds to a new life of cruelty, while the heart of glass is swept away, its pieces discarded and forgotten. I don't want to travel with the wind, fleet in one blink, I want to be reborn, experience freedom for the first time in my life. I want to have a heart of gold.â
Do you know the feeling of an itch that no matter how much you scratch, how incessant you drag your nails over that patch of skin, you can just never get rid of? That was motherhood, but worse.
For you, at least.
The life of a commoner was jarring, a constant battle for life, that most, no matter how hard they tried to intimidate, would never succeed in defeating. Most died young, early thirties or fourties, with nasty diseases of all kinds being the reasonâand yet they always seemed so lively compared to nobility. The nobility with all of their masquerades and dramatics. They never were allowed to let the intricately crafted mask crack, even for a second, if they valued their life that is.
Perhaps that's why you had envied those mindless pigs most of your lifeâworking away until their bones cracked and fell into themselves. That mindless devotion and that foul language they could use whenever they pleased, the sheer stupidity in believing in something higher and more valuable than the crown, was so vastly different to your own complex persona. Your life was quiet, filled with studying, tea-parties that never reached deeper than surface level of conversation and endless long nights where you would raise your gaze to the heavens above and just stare at the stars, as if the answers you desperately longed for were written in them.
You were like a man deprived of water, thirsting for something to quench your endless need for freedom. Any kind you could get your hands on, you clutched onâwether it was the question of if you maids were to dress you in blue or white or rather in violet and yellow, or something simple if you wanted to wander around in the gardens that day; you loved all these small luxuries. Even the pearls of your mother's, now hanging from your neck like heavy cobblestones on a string, felt nothing compared to the little escapades you were allowed. And the needle you were embroidering with in this old moaning manor pricking you gave you some semblance of joy, that at least in some shape or form there was something under your control.
Until even that had lost its tasteâlike your once most favoured dish that had reminded you of childhood in your youth, the fields, the servant's children that you would play with after repetitive lessons and so much more, one day none could comfort you anymore. As many others, you grew out of your juvenile thinking much too soon and in a way that was far too shattering of an experience.
Sweet seventeen and the marriage with the crown prince was held. You had known before, it was to be expected, you had anticipated the dreadful day when you would have to give up your freedom in exchange of legacy and reputation, yet actively knowing and actively being were two vastly different states one could experience. So as the princess you had been, you had bowed down to everyone in power; to your mother with her stern gaze and even harsher words, to your father with his cane as sharp as his gaze was, to the king of a different nation, you had only visited once in childhood who was nothing more than a distant memory at this point in time and lastly to your future husband, who would not reign, but still hold enough power to crush a small country with just his fist.
So you bore the stranger a child, one not out of love, but out of duty to the crown, to your familyâto everyone who had invested in you as a powerful tool as the key to peace between two neighbouring kingdoms. âHeâs pretty. His eyes are like mine,â were his first words upon seeing the crying infant still caked in blood with you drenched in your own sweat. The world had crumpled in that moment, only to rebuild itself a second time in your life as you remembered that nothing ever was out of love. Everything was done out of ego. At least concerning nobility and royalty. And you were royalty.
Thatâs when the curse had startedâthe deep loathing for something that didnât deserve it.
âMother!â you frowned, determined to keep your gaze on the embroidery in your hands.
âMother!â another high-pitched cry and you swore a vein on your forehead was about to just pop open and deflate like a par of lungs you wanted to slice through with a scarpel.
You glanced at the door, counting the steps and sure enough it took the little demon thirty-two before bursting right in as always. âMother! There you areâ look, look mother! Misses has just taught me how to..â you tuned out after the second word, already feeling another headache bloom between your brows, subtly ushering your maid closer so that she could take care of the chaos. Ignoring the way the boy protested and cried as he was led out with the excuse that his dear mommy was tired and in need of rest.
That had been ten years agoâin fact you were just melodramatic and liked to revisit your past, thinking about how foolish you had been to ever belief love was more than a myth. Sighing you took another bite from your steak.
âMother, have you heard? I won this year's tournament again.â the deep voice startled you.
âOh, you have?â another bite and it would be over soon, another bite and you wouldn't have to talk any more than necessary.
âYes mother, has father not informed you?â no, don't let your thoughts get bad, he didn't mean to mention his father.
âMother, you and father haven't been talking much, have you now? How utterly disappointing. I had assumed that he at the very least would share my achievements with you, mother dear.â you were losing it again, because you could swear he was doing it on purpose, he was rubbing salt in your wound knowingly. No, no he wasnât, you were just paranoid, instead why not focus on the flower motive on the egde of your plate or the rich red swirling in your cup orâ
âMother? You seem rather pale. Would you like me to call your maid?â
He isnât doing it on purpose.
Breathe in, breathe out.
Breathe in, breathe out.
He didn't ask to be born, he was just here because he had toâas you were, as the worker ants and the pigs were, as the common folk were.
Just breathe.
âMotherââ no you couldn't just breathe.
Your fists slammed against the dinning table, causing silverwear to clink against porcelain and wine to spill. It dripped to the floor and with it your last nerve.
âDonât you dare, Nicholas! You and I, as well as any other resident in the palace, are very much aware of your father's open infidelityâand to incessantly remind me of it, is just unacceptable! When will you grow out of your boyish theatrics and take life seriously? You should concern yourself more with your studies and yourself than my matters!â you were standing, you didn't even know when you had stood up, but now you were face to face with your son for the first time in the duration of the entire dinnerâand you tasted bile. Luscious chestnut coloured hair, forest green eyes and fair skin with an oval face; he was the copy of his father, quite literally and everything in you felt deeply disturbed by it. Or perhaps it was because of the way he would stare at you, even as a baby, with this sort of hunger, this all-consuming need to take and take, without giving back, like a parasite in your guts, feeding off whatever you consumed.
âMother, you wound me." he had the audacity to jest, smiling that bone-chilling smile. Sometimes you wondered if that really was your son and not just a demon that had slipped into his skin at birth. âI am your son, mother. I worry for you. Youâve had such a weak constitution since my childhood, I cannot help myself.â devil. You shuddered.
Beyond yourself and all responsibilities that came with being bound to the crown, you stormed off. Your maids rushed behind you but you swat them away, yelling at them to leave you be, that you just needed fresh air and throwing what other excuses you managed to come up with at them. And they were quick to listenâeven though with great reluctance scattering like baby ducklings would, while the guards stationed in front of the dinning hall were watching you silently. Everyone was, constantly.
You huffed, hands gripping your gown like the talons of a bird clung to a mouse and you ranâperhaps if your mother could see you now, she would claw her way out of her grave to berate and scold you like the child you were behaving as, but you couldnât stop your legs from moving forward, even as your feet started to ache and you felt something warm run down your shoe.
âYour Majesty?â you halted.
âWhat is the matter? You seem upset?â Charles. Your gaze softened, something that happened far too little. Soft brown curls with a matching chocolate brown gaze all dressed up in a relaxing blue. He was like a gift wrapped in a blue bow.
âI was just walking by. All council members were called.â he was blunt and clipped as alwaysâcomfortingly so, gazing at you in thinly veiled concern.
Before you could spout whatever irresponsible nonesense that your mind could conjure up, he had clasped a hand around your wrist, quick to check for curious eyes that would misinterpernt the rather narrow distance between you two, before pulling you both aside into an empty chamber nearbyâthe room not much bigger than a closet, obviously something forgotten.
You opened your mouth ready to speak but he beat you to it.
âIs it your husband again? Heâs a fool. To think he can feel free of guilt when his lovely wife has to suffer because of his childishness.â you felt his hand cup your cheek and you melted, the darkness and slight chill of the room suddenly secondary, as warmth from your very insides bloomed.
âI don't know anymore, Charles,â you sighed, head against his chest. You found a steady rhythm there, something unlike your life.
âHe brought her here. Here! Into the castle. He wants to make her his second queen, his second queen! That's unheard of but he's so stubborn and he won't listen. Not to me, not to his advisorsâhe just doesnât listen.â there was some relief in sharing your pain, some relief that at least someone would listen to what you felt and thought.
âIt's a scandal.â he admitted in a whisper, now rubbing your back in gentle circles. âTo have a mistress for all the world to see and to want to elavate her status to yours. Heâs crazy. You deserve better, much better.â he consoled you and reassured you, making you feel more at ease with your teenage-like outburst. You ought to pull yourself togehter, (y/n). Be quiet and strong. Donât cause a fuss, men donât like that. Yeah, mother, you did everything right, but father still had three bastards he brought home.
Exhausted you groaned, embracing the very chest that Charles has been offering you since the first day at the palace. Sometimes you would wonder what wouldâve been if you had married Charles instead of your husband, but you never thought too long or too hard about it, because to be tuthful the prospect that you couldâve lead a happier life depressed you.
Something wet rolled down your cheek.
You pulled away.
âThank you, Charles. Youâve always been very understanding. But I should return to my chambers. Itâs late. Where were you headed to again? You should make haste.â you were quick to dismiss as usual. It was unheard of that in-laws were so close with eachother, especially when the gown you were wearing once had been your husbands gift. It was like his cruel paw extended time and place to even shackle you in place here in the furthest corners of the palace, alone with the man that you hadâ in your younger years at leastâ occasionaly thought about at night, when your husband would be working or have his occasional trysts with some courtesan.
He was quiet for a second or two, letting you spiral furhter into the dark place that had a permenant residence inside of your mind, only to startle you with a squeeze to your shoulders. âAre you certain? You still appear unwell and I would feel like a terrible brother-in-law if I justââ you didnât let him finish.
âNo, no need. I am absoloutely capable of returning by myself. Just you go.â and with that escaped before you could cry your eyes out in front his brother, even when he was the only human in the family of festering little demons, you would rather not let him catch you off guard. He was the apple Eve was tempted with only to fail the test, but you were better than that, you were a noble, not just any you were a royal, you wouldnât fall for fateâs cruel tricks.
You rushed through the halls, your heels clicking with each step, as the night only turned darker and your thoughts only more frenzied. Finally you reached your chambers, your skittish maids, breathing out in relief, rushing towards you to check in on you and your trembling state. You waved them off, barking again to be left alone, only this time they wouldnât. Suspiciously so.
âWhy wonât you let me enter? Speak.â
âMy queen, we would never think about witholding you from returning to your own chambers, but there is an issue of sorts, you see..â the oldest of the bunch spoke up, the same age as your mother would be if she was still alive and well.
With slits for eyes you glowered, now more persistent in your demand, even if it was one of your most loyal of maids, you wouldnât be leniet enough to let them off the hook so easily. âSpeak.â
âMy queen it is thatââ
Oh.
Staring at you so incredibly smugly, as if you couldnât wipe the floor with her visage if you wanted to, was the twenty something mistress of your husband, of the the king, Maria.
How ironic of a name.
âOh? If that isnât the first queen. How delighted I am, to meet the woman the king adores as much as he adores me. And how beautiful of a woman you are! So graceful, even at your age, with a child thatâs nearly old enough to build his own family! You must be proud! Certainly, youâre so lovely.â you felt your eye twitch. She was utterly shameless standing in the doorway to your chambers while dressed in nothing but a chiffony nightgown and black hair like the streaks of tint on paper. How utterly depraved and sick.
As she smiled too, you probably turned red in the face.
âI am so happy to finally meet you! I heard a lot about youâall he does is talk about you. I am glad youâre my opponent I can vie for the kingâs affection with. Anyone else wouldâve been bland in comparison to you.â her fingers brushed away a strand of hair in your face and it probably took all of your self-restraint not to snap and bury your fingers in her scalp to pluck away some of that inky black. âI am truly grateful.â her blue eyes were worse, piercing and clear like the streams of fresh watersâtruly a horrible colour to be gifted to such snake, undeserving of such beauty.
âWhy are you here? This isnât the kingâs bedroom, girl.â you were cold, slapping away her hand and trying to undermine her presence with the fact that you were older and more experienced, yet she just giggled. Was it wrong that she reminded you of your son? The both of them certainly were the same level of vile, making you feel uncomfortably unauthorative in their presence.
âOh it isnât? My mistake, your Majesty. But you can just call me Maria, no need to be so distant. Or you could get used to calling me Queen Maria. Pardonâis it a sensitive topic? Youâre glaring at me so intensely, I am uncertain if I should fear for my life.â on second thought maybe being thrown into prison for bashing in the kingâs mistressâ head against a wall didnât sound so appaling. No, pull yourself together.
âI ask of you to move. These are my chambers. So move, now.â one more minute of this and you were sure you would end up growling like an animal, but thankfully she finally took the hint and brushed past you but not without a flying kiss your way. âSee you soon, your majesty.â
At the end your maids held you back from tearing her apart like a rabid dog the moment she turned to walk away. Thankfully, they were also able to pull you into your chambers before fleeting before your outburst. Vases were flyingâclothes ripped apart and you burned the single strands of black you found, above your lampâs little flame. All while you stared up at the night sky, like you used to, asking the heavens why they had cursed you. Why a god couldnât have let you be born as an empty-headed piglet, why you had to be able to understand language, why you just couldnât rip anyoneâs head off that treaded too close to you.
At the end of your breakdown you found your motherâs pearls scattered on the checkered tiles like the stars that mocked you from above. You pursued your lips into a smile. It was somewhat symbolic.
Mother was dead. Father too.
But you werenât, not yet at least. So why waste it with stupid things such as deceny? You had desired for more than superficial workship of your bodyâyou wanted real love, something to take your mind off your duties. And if the king was allowed such a thing, then you would just aquire one too.
Charles had always been friendly to you. Why not pay the favour back? After all, he was such a good brother-in-law.
The imaginary gods truly scorned you, didn't they? Because why else would you be dining with your husband, his mistress and your son. Were you truly nothing but the butt of the joke? Your presence meant nothingâall the years of hard-work, serving the crown and greater good, for what?
For Maria to wink at you and mock you in broad daylight, with even your son doing nothing but quietly watch. Father like son. How true that statement was.
Were you disappointed though? No, you didn't expect much of demons festering off others.
The eggs were cooked into gooey soft richness, just as you liked it, giving you some semblance of comfort. Today you were dressed in rich velvet purple; truly a gown for special occasions and this particular day probably was the most special out of all. It was the day you had anticipated all these upcoming weeks with nothing but an ache deep in your chest whenever you thought of it.
Today he would announce when the law would be finalizedâand with its finalization the death of your dignity.
Maria would officially be the kingâs second queen, not consort, not mistressânot even the occasional courtesan he liked to fuck, no, she would be of your status, when she was nothing but a countâs daughter. It was laughable really, you stabbed at the beacon on your plate as if it had committed a crime against you.
From childhood until your marriage to him, you as a royal princess had been kept endlessly busy with tutoring of all kinds; writing and reading first and foremost then state affairs, french, latin, philosophy, politics, how to properly sit and talk, embroidery and so much more that at eight you had started wishing to be born a pig, kept fed until slaughter.
âAs you all know,â all heads drifted in his direction, sitting proud at the head of the mahogany table, âThe law will be legalized by the end of the month and to celebrate this joyous occasion. I ask my first wife, to prepare a banquet for my love.â he probably didn't even see you as a human, only as a political ally.
âOf course, your Majesty. I would love to.â nevertheless you replied as if you had a choice in the matter anyways, flinching as soft hands snaked up your arms. âYou will? That's wonderful news! I cannot share just how honoured I am that you will be planning this! Anything you make must be nothing short of astounding beauty!â was she trying to gain even more of the kingâs favour? It certainly seemed to work on your lovesick husband, who only leaned back in his seat, the cushions were redâa colour worthy of a king and let his lips curl up into a tender smile, with moss greens that seemed to scarily soften up.
Had your husband ever been capable of such a look?
You couldn't remember him ever staring at you so lovingly. It was chilling to say the least. Perhaps even repulsing.
You were quick to look down at your plate againâwishing for nothing more but to peel her fingers off of you, hopefully with so much force that one of her fingers would clean-cut break into two. It wasn't a question of love nor jealousy after all; but a matter of respect, and she was downright waddling her tail in front of you in victory. As if she deserved your just title as much, if not more than you. Slut.
âMother,â this time it was the voice of your son calling out to you, âit seems you will be occupied for the time being with the courtesan's banquet,â he sighed, âand I here I was anticipating to spend some time with you after my exams.â
Had he justâ
Silence.
Even the servants could do nothing but stare at the prince wearing such a proud expression, as if what he did was the right course of action. As if he just didn't insult his father's current obsession with the occupation she had before he brought her into the castle.
Everyone knew not to mention it, not even in the passing. Just hinting at it could cost you lots yet here was the crown prince doing what he knew not to do.
Oddly enough, while electricity zapped through the air, something destructive brewing beneath the kingâs icy cold gazeâyou could nothing but gape in fascination at your spawn. Were you imagining it, or was he protesting against his father? If you didn't know it sny better, you would've thought he did it to defend your honour. But that was laughable.
It seemed the young prince had grown up, when you had no clue, but sometime ago probably, with the way he held his chin up high, no fear visible in his gaze all while holding his father's glare.
You would be lying if you said you weren't weirded out. Hopefully him acting out wouldn't put you in bigger trouble than you already were in. He could at least grant you such a favour.
âWhatâwhat did just leave your mouth?â the king practically spat, your husband rising a hand decked out with hefty golden rings.
âI said, father,â you internally groaned, this child was just determined to cause you misery, âCourtesan. Because that is exactly what she is. Isn't that right, Maria? Before father married you, you were nothing but a whore with your legs wide spread open to pleaseââ
Thwack. The king loomed over his own son, like God, â if he existed â probably had over Lucifer to berate him one last time before he would've earned his fall from grace.
âEnough! One more word and I will forget myself entirely!â the threat rung through the entire dining hall, it rung so deep it seeped into your bones.
Nicholasâ cheek was left marked with imprints of fat rings that managed to slice through skin and leave one side of his face a swirl of red and slowly forming purple. He hadn't just hit his son, but he had done so, with such force that his head was moved out of your sight.
Yet he still talked; spat out words like they burned his tongue.
âWhat, father? Can't handle the truthââ
âEdwin! Oh dear!â Mariaâs fingers only now left your arm. She was rushing to the man that was supposedly your husband, to stop him from actually killing the boy he had wanted so badly. Immediately she latched onto him, practically throwing herself at him, dotting on him, doing her best to calm his wrath and somehow it worked. While all you could do was watch in stunned silence.
Your cousin, what was her name againâ ah, yes, Lilianâ wouldâve surely snorted out a laugh at the scene. She found everything dark and morbid to be fascinating, perhaps that's why she had married a duke that would occasionally beat her into a bloody pulp?
Getting sidetracked again, weren't you? Point is you could accept much, but this, this was crossing a thin line that needed to be kept up for the balance of all things holy to the crown. If a mistress managed to throw everything out of order, then you truly had failed all your marital duty as a partner and as a queen.
Perhaps mother had been right? But then again, father had never been the big romantic, you were sure the man had been incapable of falling in loveâobviously different to the Edwin you thought you had known all those years. He seemed enamored and it was truly terrifying.
The meal ended shortly after with the King storming off and his mistress right with him. Now, you never enjoyed being affectionate with Nicholas, however even you had to admit that you should probably offer the boy some words of wisdom.
Even if you liked to think of him as a little gremlin with a copy of his father for a face, you knew he wasn't exactly the same as him. Sometimes, it was hard to admit, your son did manage to spark some motherly affection in you, as scary as it was. So sighing, you rounded the table and your gaze landed on the brunette boy.
âCome, let's get you cleaned up.â was the most affectionate mumbling you forced out from between your lips. Only to turn around almost immediately, not waiting for him to collect himself as you wandered out and away from the dining hall. There was a short burst of laughterâprobably, you weren't sure, you hoped it wasn't crying. You hated seeing him cry. He was an ugly crier. Then you heard footsteps behind you and soon passing by a few of your family portraits, the irony not lost on youâyour life in contrast to the perfectly crafted deception painted onto these canvasesâyou found yourself in your study.
âSit.â your words were always clipped when you talked to him, weren't they? It was hard to remember.
Nevertheless you rummaged through your drawers, the subtle scent of wood mixing with the incense that you were quick to ignite.
Funny, so that's what your study looked like? It was organised and thoroughly dusted, with each book and document in different neatly arranged piles. He remembered never been allowed in here as a boy, only able to take sneak peaks at you at your desk while the door closed in behind his nanny's somber face. Now it made sense, you feared a child would ruin your precision and need for perfection. Oh, mother, is that the reason you shun me so?
You felt that unexplainable chill again, which would always travel down your spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake. See that look in his eyes? Those soulless green orbs you swore would burn a hole into your face from how intensely he was staring at you as you sat down in front of him. That's exactly why you didn't want anything to do with him, he was justâso peculiar.
âClose your eyes.â was your next command, not being able to stand the abyss you found in your own sonâs gaze. You waited while you prepared the cotton through soaking it in alcohol.
And thankfully he listened. His eyes fluttered shut.
âMotherâ he spoke. âMhm,â you hummed.
âMother, aren't you mad at father?â you paused, inhaled, already unnerved before continuing to pat his cheek gently.
âIt's not in my place to question what the king does, neither is it yours Nicholas.â a soft sigh escaped you, âYou ought to behave yourself. The little stunt you pulled at dinner tonight was dangerous. He may be your father, but before all else he is the king. And you should respect him until the crown is yours. Or do you wish to ruin your future just because?â
âIt wasn't just becauseââ you chuckled, letting your hand fall away from his cheek as he forced the words from between his teeth.
âOh?â you used the same look your mother always gave youâa scoff and a frown combined to make the one on the recieving end feel disgustingly guilty. You shook your head at him, youth.
âThe reason isn't of any importance, what is of importance however is you ascending to the throne. And you cannot do so if your father hates you so. You may be older and of pure blood, but if the new woman at his side falls pregnant with a boy and you continue to be foolish, then you can just stand and watch everything being ripped away from you.â were you getting emotional, describing your future too while trying to warn him? Maybe. You didn't realise it until your son threw himself at you, alright, maybe not literally but he embraced you, as if you were the child and he the parent.
You stilled.
When had been the last time you hugged your son? You couldn't remember. The moment was peaceful, oddly so and just for a split second you forgot of your revulsion towards that child and let him clutch onto you.
âMother,â he breathed against your shoulder, startling you, âMother heâs openly betraying you. While the whole nation watches. You don't deserve this mother, you deserve a better man. If I had been my father I wouldn't haveââ you immediately pushed him away.
Did you mishear?
âDon'tâdonât ever talk like that again!â you declared, instead of questioning it further, immediately assuming that the fault lied in your twisted mind. You must've misunderstood you must'veâ
Something was brewing beneath his exterior, you could tell. Something dangerous flicked in his gaze, something that you knew justified your fear towards your own spawn. Now, any minute, you swore he would burst and unleash his inner demons.
âMother,â
âI apologise.â he smiled. You felt yourself release a breath, one you weren't aware you had been holding.
âI didn't think about my words, I am truly sorry.â
You quickly wrapped things up after that and it was not long before you send him off on his merry way. If he continued to talk about his father as if he wished for him to be only a memory and his skeleton six feet under the earth, then he would only spiral into a world of trouble and take you with him.
Besidesâsince when was he this rebellious? You sighed, feeling pain bloom between your brows.
Was this some sort of mockery?
To shame you continuously?
Or why for god's sake was this bitch in your chambers again?
âYour Majesty!â she chirped and you wished you could claw your eyes out and stuff them into her mouth so she would finally shut up.
âChildâŠâ
âMaria, it's Maria, your majesty!â she huffed, then pouted, again clad in nothing but her nightgown, underwear really; silk that fell over her shoulders and reached down to her ankles.
âBesidesâ,â she pouted and you started to question the sanity of this woman, âYou're not much older than me, your Majesty. Mhm, like an elder sister! How about I call you queen sister? Since we both will be queens!â she giggled.
Had she been dropped on her head at birth? You couldn't help but stare wordlessly, as she interlinked her arm with yours.
âAgain. This is not the kingâs chambers.â
âBut queen sisterââ
âDon't call me that.â
âButââ
âI said don't call me that!â you screamed.
Great. Now you were causing a scene in the hallway, with your maids and the guards watching. Great.
However you hadn't been prepared yet for the grand finaleâsuddenly she bursted into tears. Graciously of course, she was a lady, a lady with many tricks up her sleeve that is. She was crying, seemingly an endless stream, sobbing and quivering, staring up at you with big puppy-dog eyes.
If there was a god in heaven, you were certain that he hated you.
âMy queenâ she was still sobbing, now leaning forward so her cold lips could brush against your ear.
âYou scream at me again and Iâll tell the king that you insulted me to my face.â
You gasped, this cocky littleâ
Yet what could you do? You knew one of her words amounted to a bar of gold to him; something to be treasured, possibly sacred. But you, he never had viewed you as such, you were the mother of his child and the queen yesâbut your presence, âyou knew as much as thatâ never has been valuable besides those two strong points. He saw you as an ally, a friend of sorts, a political fawn; someone with an intellect, but nothing more.
You didn't want to imagine his anger at even just daring to belittle what was rightfully his, that you, the queen in his little game of chess, would've mustered up courage that bordered on dangerously life-threatening.
So you sighed, with liquid anger pumping through your veins and your face flushing from the pressure of it. Your temples hurt again. Your head hurt again
You didn't register her leaving with a shitâeating grin on her face, nor the fact that one of your maid, Leslie, was half-carrying you inside your chamber, having to sit you down on your bed before feeding you your medicine in form of a brew.
It was funny, like your memory was wiped cleanâas if your mind was a clean slate similar to how it had been when you were a drooling infant. Everything around you eased, the tension, the worriesâwhat even was there to worry? You hummed, even purred in satisfaction as you drifted off into a dreamless slumber.
You hated waking up. Peace never existed beyond a deep slumber void of dreams. You hated dreams, you hated being dragged up and dressed like a doll and hated the sky. Especially the sky with its sparkling stars all mocking you, calling you as you were; defeated.
Utterly so.
Your reminisced about your beloved husband calling you to discuss something urgent with him. What could've been this urgent matter, one may ponder? Well, it was Maria.
âHave you started your preparations for the ball, yet?â his tone was colder than usual.
âNo, but I am very much inââ
âThen haste. It will be held soon enough.â
You nodded politely, not wanting to aggregate his nerves further. So he waved you off and dismissed you, until he abruptly spoke up.
âAnd make sure that boy learns some manners.â his glare was so sharp it cut into your nape.
âWill do, husband.â you fled the room after that.
Perhaps you did not actually flee, but you certainly felt inclined to do so. Sometimes you did fantasize about escaping to a lone island, one that would resemble the paradise your nanny had always spoken so fondly of. What was her name again? You didn't remember, you couldn't, no matter how hard you tried because all you called her was Mommyâobviously only behind closed doors, away from any eyes or ears that could rat her out to your real hag of a mother.
She had been the only thing close to a mother's loving embrace which you so frequently would read about in books; fairytales and romances. An angel with crooked teeth and a hunchback, but an angel no less, with a softness to her that you never were able to replicate no matter how hard you tried. She was simply of different blood that wasn't blue nor red but gold; she wasn't like the rest of them. But you were like them, hiding behind a mask, no matter how terrible life whipped at you to reveal the truthâyou wouldn't, you were trained to not give in after all, drilled from a young age.
And she had been so adamant to free you, telling you stories about juicy fruits with tastes rivalling that of honey, a sky that never darkened and greenery that never fadedâif you narrowed your eyes to slits, you could imagine the royal garden spread out in front of you to be the paradise she so often spoke about.
You sighed again. Those were just childish fantasies. Something she had made up to bring you happiness, even if your shared wonder only lasted two years before she was caught being too affectionate with you and discarded.
As a chubby five-year old you had been devastated and confused, wondering why she had left you behind to fend for yourself, alone with the wolves. But as you matured, as your own son's nannies came and disappeared, you realized it had never been her fault in the first place. They had been at fault.
âYour majesty!â
Some of your days were good, tranquil even, but someâsome were either destructively evil or somberly empty.
âYour majestyââ and today you wanted to be somber, away from everything. But fate didn't want this. Of course it didn't, fate despised you as you did your mother. So even if you had promised to betray fate instead and experience an adventurous tryst with the man in front of you just out of spite, you felt no desire to speak with him or anyone else, after the short but life-threatening conversation you had had with his majesty.
âHas he upset you again?â, Charles sighed, his initial enthusiasm fading, âIt seems every time we converse you're miserable.â
Now that he mentioned itâhe wasn't wrong. He was like some sort of saviour, someone that reminded you of your nanny so long ago and your hardened heart softened again. You didn't want to push him away, not Charles, not the man with soft-features, a tender look in his eyes, with his dashing looks and personalityânot when he was only a few years younger than you. So little in fact, it wouldn't matter at your age anymore.
âSeems so.â you muttered and you couldn't hold your hand back from outstretching to pull him down besides you on your little white-painted bench placed in the shades, with another piece of embroidery in your lap. For a moment he was silent, stunned by your fingers wrapped around his wrist for all eyes to feast onâand continuing to hold it even as he sat.
âIt seems you're always there for me, Charles.â was this a fever dream? Or why else would you, the queen, tempt him so, seductive as always, yet bolder than ever, calling him so intimately out hereâhopefully out of the ear of onlookers to the spectacle; your maid and a few guards scattered around.
And then you even fluttered your lashes at him, so blindingly beautiful that it hurt. Tantalizing with your lips that he was certain were sweeter than sugar, and the new heart-robbing smile on those soft pillars of warmth. The slope of your nose, the apple of your cheek, everything about you was sin incarnate and he was just helpless to the devilâs calls. Just what if he leaned down andâ
âI thank you.â god you teased him.
âIt's my pleasure. As a devotee to the crown.â he managed to finesse and gloss over his little stammer with a bright smile and you, thankfully, let it slip.
Or at least he assumed so.
Actually you were giggling in your head like one of those young village girls, when a boy would ask for a danceâyou had watched that spectacle occur one time out on the countryside for some respite after mother's passing.
What a time it had been, so beautifully peaceful with only the birds to yap awayâ similar to now, the only difference was that now you were holding his hand, and nothing, not even the king could prevent you from enjoying this moment to the fullest.
âCharles. How long have we known eachother?â
âFourteen years and counting, your Majesty.â he answered, with warmth in his eyes. The day was warmâthe sun blazing and at its peak, with the garden neatly trimmed, sitting beneath the proud tall that was probably older than both of you combined, the shade provided you would with protection from her rays.
âThank you, Charles, for always consoling me in times of need.â your fingers slithered between his own, entangling your hands under lingering eyes, yet in that little moment you found yourself not caring. Life was short, so why shouldn't you be able to enjoy life to the fullest as his majesty. If it came and he would hear of this, you would accept whatever punishment, because you were sick of not being free.
Then again you felt freedom spread her wings above you with Charles by your side.
You smiled, softly, gently, tenderly even. A smile not even your son had ever earned from youâsomething he probably never would, no matter what he tried, because he was still that manâs son with motives behind his façade that you could never figure out. He was still the baby that terrified you with the ravenous hunger in his soul reflected in his gaze.
And that very son, was plastered against one of the castle windows, his glare bearing down on you both, if possible, it would have burned a hole through your face from the sheer intensity of it. You had always viewed your child as creepyâunsettling to be around for too long. But you had never possessed any evidence for itâyou knew not to blame a seedling, something that had sprung from you, but you just couldn't stop yourself from feeling dread when meeting his eyes.
Unbeknownst to you, this silent horror was not completely irrational.
Actually it was simple survival instinct.
Especially when the heir to the kingdom craved nothing more but your motherly love and seeing you give affection to his uncle, of all people â his enemy â he couldn't help but trash your favourite vase. Actually he wasn't that different to you in that senseâhe needed chaos and destruction to satisfy the inner barbarian in him.
âMother,â he slammed his fists onto your desk. He had been snooping around your studyâhis favourite past time activity since he had managed to steal the second pair of keys to the room you viewed as sacred and safe. If you just knew, Mother.
âYou give, Mother. To everyone but me.â
he was trying to maintain his composure, to not burst into a jealous rage from seeing you intertwined hands, the close proximity you sharedâthe smile plastered onto your face much more similar to that of a young maiden experiencing her first love than the queen with a heart of ice.
The moment his uncle dared to lean forward to brazenly press a kiss to your knuckles, was the moment he snapped. Destruction reigned over your study, his desire for carnage so raw, he treated craftsmanship like flesh and blood, strangling them as if they owed him an apology.
Then finally it was over.
As it was, peace settled over his silhouette, drenched in his own sweat in the stifling hot room, panting like a rabid dog.
âMother,â you both were gone now from his view, he should haste, he knew, but he couldn't leave without these last words.
âIf you won't give me your love willingly, as a mother should. Then I will take what is mine to own. I will overthrow father, be the king. You won't be able to escape, me, your son. You won't shun me no longer, mother. I won't allow it.â
Mother I will own your leash.
When you finally partedâyou felt light and airy. Freedom was on the tip on your tongue, and butterflies danced around your hollowed out chest. Summer lingered on your skin, warm and sandy, reminding you of beaches you had never visited and tropical fruits that run over the back of your hand when you squeezed tad too tightly.
You hadn't felt so giddy in a while, nothing could ruin your good mood, not your husband, nor his mistress and neither your son. Cotton clouds were wrapping around you and you would be damned if you wasted time to not mock the stars back, staring up at the bright sky with a sneer. See, Mother? I will have my freedom too. I won't end like you, heartbroken by a man that never learned to love.
How foolish you were. Unassuming even. Years of living on this earth, shackled by fate and you still dared to dream.
So when the door to your study gave in and you entered to discoverâ
nothing amiss.
You sighed, you were being paranoid again, weren't you? How silly of you. Why would anything be out of orderâchildren and most servants were forbid from entering. You handled delicate matters, events even; such as banquets and balls, carefully writing out invitations to selected guests, curating the invitations. Also you were responsible for all of your servants and the choices they made.
Before the old kingâs unfortunate death you had been responsible with his care. He had deteriorated into a bad mental state in the last two years of his life; so much so that he couldn't recognise his son anymore. You had shared your husband's pain then, younger and naĂŻve, a decade ago.
But you didn't, not anymore, not after so much you suffered through and with him only for him to sought out a courtesan and bend the entire law for her, risking even a coop!
You approached your sleeping quarters as always, while thinking about Maria, which granted you with a pulsing headacheâin the literal sense. You should ask one of your maids, maybe Leslie, to brew you, your medicine once again.
âMaria." you greeted her dryly, the routine familiar now.
âYour Majesty!â she chirped as always and you had to control the twitch of your eyeâor the twitch in your hand to slap her.
You opted to just silently stare at her, agitated by having to encounter her each night in your chambers, dressed in a nightgown you didn't want to imagine the king peeling off of her skin. She was trying to shame you, in front of your closest servants and in front of the guilt-stricken guardâthat couldn't deny her request because in fear of attracting the king's anger.
âYour Majesty! I have waited and waited, just where have you been?â she was active as a childâbut her eyes mirrored that of a snake, just searching for one of your weak points, so that she could torment you further until she managed to properly get rid of you.
âMaria please move. I would like to rest.â
âThen let's rest together! I am terribly tiredâyou know how tiring the king can be! So ravenous.â she snickered, much to the horror of your servants around you, âOh..my apologies. Am I hurting your Majestyâs feelings?â her slanted gaze drooped, pity and amusement lingering in their depths.
Oh.
She did notâ
That bitch!
âLeave!â you roared. Not towards her but to everyone around you, needing to feel her scalp beneath your fingers. You knew what you would be doing now was going to wind up ruining your just newly acquired saccharine taste of freedom, and probably destroy your lifeâbut your anger gripped your by your shoulders and slapped you on your back as you roughly shoved her inside of your chambers.
Darkness shrouded the room in thrilling mystery of what to comeâat least you thought Maria found it to be thrilling judging by her giddy following, excited to play a sick and twisted game of cat and mouse in the privacy of your chambers.
Your burst came all too soon and familiarâstripping you of any royalty, drowning out all the voices in your head trying to shackle the beast you would become when allowed. Usually you were only to do so in private, behind your doorsâwith only your servants to be subjected to your other face, but this time you wanted to indulge Maria. Show her heavenly grace and what it meant to be of royal descent.
You strangled her.
Everything unfolded in the blink of an eye, you couldn't stop or control yourself before tackling her causing her to stumble over your carpet in shock, crashing with into your nightshade, lamp shattering the moment it embraced the marbled floors while she embraced you as you both tumbled into your bed.
âHave the king! Have him all you wantâlike all the other men that you had between your legs. Warm him at cold nights! I urge you, please do.â hissing you leaned down to continue. âBut know that you will never be able to be loved as much by the court, by the people, by everyone else. You won't survive this for too long. Even if I am beheaded after this.â you snarled while noting that she was indeed oddly calm beneath your palms. You were uncertain. Maybe it was the sheer shock? Perhaps she was weaker than you had assumed?
Or, she had died.
Panic surged through you. You weren't ready to be her murderer just yet! The thought alone made you flinch as if it branded your forehead in big bold letters in crimson. As if everyone could already bear witness to your crimes.
And suddenly you stood in front of the court.
Fingers pointed at you, screeching out blurts of sentences you couldn't make out, while you were dragged away by your own son, his grip on your hair so tight that you swore your scalp would peel off any minute now.
Kicked to kneel in front of the king, you begged and pleaded but mercy was foreign to the man that robbed you of your youth, and that you robbed of love and his sword swung high and far beforeâ
You convulsed, gagging only at the thought, letting loose of her neck instantly, falling off of her onto the silken covers.
âI am sorryââ you mumbled, scrambling away from her, stubbornly looking away from the assumed corpse.
You were about to flee, kicking away the covers, dazed by the turn of events, trying to claw yourself back to your feet.
Run, Run, Run. It chanted inside of your head, and you surely wouldâve managed to do so, if Mariaâs fingers didn't clasp around your arm like a pythonâs jaw.
âWhere are you going, your Majesty? We just started didn't we.â you shrieked, her hoarse voice genuinely startling.
Slowly you turned around to face the woman, with wide-eyed panic still clear on your face. âLet go of me!â
âWhy? So you can take flight? Escape? Your majesty, even if you run, Edwinâs underlings will still catch you.â she was grinning, a feverish rush on her cheeks, mania clear and deep in her icy blue stare. âThere's no one to run to, your Majesty. No where to hide. Embrace it. You're a monster. Old and greedy, craving things that no longer are yours.â
Was the bed coming closer? Or were you being pushed down? Because soon enough you laid on your bed, another headache, so potent it nearly blinded you with its painâleft you at the mercy of her cruel words.
âThe king doesn't love you. He never has. Never will.â she muttered, with purple blooming on her throat like blossoming tulips, âYou suffer for naught, your Majesty. Why do you worry for someone with such little regard of your person?â it was a bitter pill to swallow the truth in her wordsâand even if you wished to protest, you couldn't.
You were tongue-tied from the agony, with suddenly lead instead of bones, only further sinking into the open arms of your bedding.
âYou're a fool, your Majesty.â a laugh ripped free from her throat. âFor ever agreeing to be alone with me, don't you fear what I could be? Don't you fear my hands on your cheeks? Don't you fear the lust for blood in my gaze?â her voice like a melody, like a drug to aid to your woundsâit worked better than the mix of herbs you usually downed to find relief.
âWill you kill me?â you asked, only to earn another boisterous laugh that felt like a whip on your soul accompanied with slanted eyes that slithered over your form.
âNo, far worse,â she paused, gaze smoldering.
âI will love you and you will love me.â
Pause.
You gawked. What was she saying?
âWhat?â you spat, puzzled.
She was completely deprived of sisterly love, or so it seemed. This was bizarre, downright weirdâhad she gone mad? Now you feared whatever her sick mind conjured next.
Something morphed and shifted until a smile so daunting, that if it weren't for the pulsing agony between your brows, you would've slapped it off her face and gladly so, while simultaneously increasingly feeling as if you were trapped in the coils of a snake.
âEdwin doesn't see you, as I do, your Majesty. He cannot see the madness in you, as I can. The insanity in your eyes, the very same one I crave to have. He doesn't love you, he doesn't. Not like I do.â your brows scrunched up, puzzled, she truly spoke like a madwoman.
Maria only chuckled. Her gaze narrowed in on your lips, in a way that twisted your stomach in discomfort; the way a man leers at a woman he desires. What foolishness! She couldn't possibly mean such an atrocity! It was never heard of a woman with a womanâ
And as if to prove you wrong, tear your worldview apart, she leaned down with heavy paws pressing onto your shoulders. Your corset seemed tighter. The air or the lack of it was stifling. She wouldn't, right?
Fate truly had never been kind to youâand now it proved itself to be only more cruel as her lips crashed onto yours.
She was feverish with soft lips and scraping teeth, her tongue poked and prodded as if she tried to hollow out the warm cavern of your mouth. Her scent lingered in your nose so strongly it made your eyes waterâlavender mixed with something you failed to recognise as she smashed her mouth against yours over and over again, until you were convinced that she was trying to strangle you with the wet muscle in her mouth instead of her hands.
The moment she let go off your figure, as stiff as a board , she was smirking deviously, as if she won a prize in a competition. As if the prize was you.
âI promiseââ she leaned down, languidly slow, as if she had all the time in the world with no concern for the ravenous chaos she had just unleashed inside of you, âthat even after Edwinâs reign, you will stay queen by my side.â
A bone-chilling cold kiss pressed to your damp temple.
âGoodnight, my queen.â
Sleep was not kind enough to visit you that night or the night after even though Maria had abruptly stopped with her nightly visits after that faithful encounterâstill, your head was a buzzing beehive of thoughts. You were overwhelmed and at a loss for words at the strangeness of it all. For her to kiss you and demandâNo, you refused to ponder about it further.
Nevertheless as if fate wished to humiliate you further âthe stars in the sky hiding behind the light of the sun at daytime mocking you â your son was glued to you for the past half an hour or so, even had send all your servants away and no matter how much you tried to pry him off he would have an excuse prepared smoothly evading all your accusations. It was creepy. Has he sensed something? He never was so persistent.
Nevertheless you still couldn't fathom why she had did, what she had done.
Even days later, it just didn't make sense. What benefit could she reap from forcing her mouth onto yours and behaving like a man? You shuddered just at the thought, everything about this situation was odd, vile, repulsing and something else. Something you wished to keep buried deep in you and left unexplored.
âMother, look! It's a swan with ducklings.â he pointed out the window, at this very moment behaving much more closer in age to a child than to a man. âYes, Nicholas. How grand.â you muttered dryly, eyes kept steady on the embroidery in your lamp while indulging him slightly, after countless failed attempts and of hushing him away, you had tired and the pounding headache that wouldn't relent didn't make you any more awake.
âSwans mate for life. Do you believe this one is mated?â your brow twitched in frustration, eyes kept steadily on your needle, going in-and-out of the tight fabric.
âI do not concern myself with such matters, perhaps you also shouldn't.â you muttered abrasively, watching the motive of a purple tulip come to life, something about it eerily similar.
âI believe that it was mated. Then rid itself of its mate. It knows it doesn't need one. Just look motherâ all the cygnets that follow without her mate in sight. They all seem so happy. Especially the mother swan, the way sheââ red obscured your vision.
Something warm and human dripped down your hand. You didn't move, didn't even breathe, all you did was stare at the needle sticking out of your hand.
âMother?ââ a gasp, âMother!â his footsteps were overwhelmingly loud, even louder than his ramblings that were grating on your nerves.
âOh Mother.â the condescending attribute of his tone was sharp and rung in your ears. âWhat have you done? Your beautiful skin,â he was mumbling again. God, when would this child stop mumbling beneath his breath! And his eyes full of fake pity concealing something much darker made you just want to pluck the needle from your hand and ram it into your throat, perhaps then the scornful look on your mother's face would finally stop haunting you every living moment.
âMother, you're upset again, aren't you? You're always upset.â Nicholas face fell as if genuinely distraught, taking your wounded hand in his, prodding at the damage you caused. âFather doesn't know how to care for you, he is mean and brutish. To scold you for informing him that you can't possibly prepare the banquet because you're unwell and getting mad at you. Heâs audacious, a fool. He doesn't deserve youâno one deserves you Mother. No one but me.â
You yelped as he pressed down onto the needle, causing further damage to your handâthe pain unbearably uncomfortable. For days your head was a dizzy spur of thoughts, paranoid and refusing to meet Charles and now, you couldn't even be properly be enraged about your son's foolishness. At least the mind-numbing headache of yours lessened thanks to the one in your hand.
Suddenly he was much closer, eyes a combination of bright and hopeful and sick. There was something manic about his gaze too, something that made you swallow thickly, alarm you once more to jot stare at the demon dressed in your son's humanâs shell.
âMother, I will be a fair king. I will be good. And I will take care of you in a way, no man or husband can. So just endure it for a while longer, I know you carry all this pain with youâand all of it is the reason why you can't love me fully. But if father, his whore and everyone else that upsets you diesâthen you will be free. Then you will be free to love me how much you want. We can finally be happy mother.â
You were about to puke. Was this what you had allowed to grow? Over all the years, no matter how much you detested spending time with the little copy of Edwin, you had made sure he only had the best nannies, a great governess and tutors at hand. All for him to spew out such nonsense.
But you had known. Known since the day he was born, that Nicholas was not sane. And right now it both angered and chilled you to see your worst fears manifest in flesh and blood.
âGet lost. Out of my eyes.â you hissed, bathed in cold sweat. You had to get up and out. Needed to flee before you were given the moment to acknowledge that you were raising such cruelness beneath the facade of a noble. Perhaps what amplified your dread was that heâthe look of insanity in his eyes, the hatred, yet longing mixing into a destructive loveâ and you weren't so different after all.
That you both craved motherly affection so intensely you both had spiralled, into different lows, but spiralled nonetheless.
âMotherâyou don't mean that.â he smiled. Yet not calm anymore. He wouldn't hide it no longer. You deserved to know that he forgave you, that he saw your pain and ache and that he would ease it for you. Just let him destroy the world only to rebuild it in your name, so that you could finally love him.
âNo.â you breathed. He didn't relent, clutching your hand as if it was sacred.
âNo! Let go!â you shoved him away this time, crying out in pain, as the needleâs head now pierced through your palm. You were trembling. The creatures lurking in the shadows would now find you. Freedom was a dream, happiness equally but at least you used to have peace, at least you used to have Charles, but this new reality of yours, with your son as the same maniac you were in your youth, would destroy it all. He will take from you, as he always had.
Your anger boiled over.
It was a mistakeâhe was the heir for god's sake, no matter how foul his mouth had gotten!
Nothing changed the fact that it was done though.
You slapped him right across the face, as his father had done, startling him into a stunned moment of silence. He was as if frozen, shocked that the verbal abuse you inflicted on him would actually one day turn physical. For a moment everything halted, the particles of dust in the air, the chirping of the birds, the soft footsteps echoing around the castle and only shock remained.
Then he smiled.
âMotherââ
And you fled.
You scrambled to your feet, rushing out of the room in such a hurry, you still held your embroidery in your hand while out in the hallway, running pathetically slowly. This wasn't your son. Even after years you still refused the truth, you didn't ask for this! Fate was cruel, but it couldn't be thisânot this! You were a queen now, your mother would've been proud, the same mother you had thrown off the balcony.
Tears streamed down your cheeks, sick to the stomach. No, not now! You couldn't cry now, not when duty and responsibility always came before being and feeling and living andâ Before you even realized you plucked the needle from the back of your hand, throwing the embroidery against one of the oil paintings hanging nearby, hoping your blood could lay curses and if it actually could,
You hoped to curse this entire castle.
Everything shouldâve changed after her death! You should've been free, shouldâve lived a better life than herâbut you were following into her footsteps, the same miserable marriage only used as a pawn, with the same excuse for a husband caring even little for his heir. You hated it, hated it so much you could burst!
âYour Majesty?â
âCharles,â you muttered, lip between your teeth. You groaned, stumbling forward, dressed in redâthe colour which had adored your mother as she had laid lifelessly on the ground. Life was funny indeed wasn't it?
The man has been your angel for so many years, once more spread his wings embracing you in all his glory, letting your red taint him with the evil your mother, you and your son bore. It was in your blood, in your very DNA, you were bred to be a demonâperhaps that's why your son's eyes had always send a chill down your spine, not because he possessed the same potent green of his father, but he held the same wickedness in it. The one you recognised.
âBy god!ââ
And speak of the devil and he rushed towards you, immediately growling at his uncle that held you in his clutches. Yet before he could step further forward, the doors to his father's study opened, the room one of the largest and proudest and with its opening the king stepped out with Maria as always glued to his side.
All of them and the servantsâall were staring at you, while you couldn't help but let your tears flow; your pounding headache, the blinding lights and the blurry edges in your vision everything you could focus on, all were maddening.
You were dying weren't you? This was probably the divine judgment for all your sins. Perhaps the stars were right to scorn and mock you; you were indeed pitiful, a creature born out of neglect and the same abuse you instilled on others now.
âWhatâs the meaning of this?â the king demanded as proud as ever, before the world was replaced by a void and swallowed you whole and the chaotic cries around you dimmed, until your own stopped.
Until you were no more.
Hopefully this time you would be reborn as a bird with fully fleshed-out wings.
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