summary: Billy was never the type to give up when he wanted something, especially a woman. ever since that night with y/n, he couldn’t bare keeping his hand to himself any longer. he needed her once again. he needed to re-mark her again.
warnings: nightmare, breaking in, alcohol abuse, non-consensual sex, begging, crying, territorial, breeding kink, marking, etc.
note: please inbox us any requests for other characters or part three ideas!
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part one!
It’s been a difficult time since that night with Billy. All y/n could think about was the way he treated her and the constant reminder of her two best friends wanting her about him. She should’ve listened, but she didn’t. She didn’t expect the consequences to hit her this hard.
It’s been almost a month, and y/n has been trying her best to dodge Billy as much as she can. She’d avoid parties and decide to drink at home alone or with Steve and Eddie.
No matter how much y/n tried to hide how much life had changed for her since that night, Eddie and Steve have been worried sick for her. They knew something was wrong, they just didn’t know what, and when this vibe change started.
“You sure you don’t want to go to the party tonight? It’s like right down the road,” Steve asked y/n, but y/n shook her head as she stayed bundled up on his coach under one of his thick covers.
“You haven’t been in the mood for parties lately — Are you good?” Eddie asked, not thinking he’d ever ask that in his life. He hated when y/n went out because it was dangerous, especially with everything that had been happening in Hawkins.
“I’m good,” y/n said, halfway falling asleep due to the liquor she had consumed.
Eddie and Steve decided to leave the questioning alone and start cleaning up the living room. Y/n had drunk the most, so for her to be asleep right now wasn’t unexpected.
“Maybe we can talk to her about everything tomorrow. It’s best we ask sooner rather than later. Anything could be wrong, and I don’t want to be too late,” Steve said, which Eddie agreed on.
After carrying y/n upstairs, Steve and Eddie went back downstairs to debrief about what could’ve possibly happened to y/n to make her personality go south. She had never been the type to seem so drained and dry, yet here she is.
As the two best friends were in distress downstairs, Billy was energized, watching y/n from the window as she had a horrible dream. A nightmare she hadn’t been able to shake for weeks.
The smile that grew on Billy’s face was sick. He had always been a sick individual, but ever since that thing got him, he’s been worse. It’s almost like his true self if finally free and comfortable.
“You’re too perfect to leave a scar on, princess, but I really wish I could mark you,” Billy whispered in y/n’s ear, still having his hand grip her hair tight enough for her to stay in place. There was nowhere to go.
“Maybe I should mark you another way, hm? I think that would be the best for the both of us unless you want people knowing exactly who you belong to,”
Y/n’s eyes only teared up more as he watched him pump his cock, smearing the spit he had just spat all over his length.
“C’mon and open up — Let me see that tongue for a good cum shot,”
Y/n’s stomach turned as she continued to wiggle in his grip, still trying to get away. He had already used her, so why did he need to continue this? Why did he have to mark her face? Why did he have to continue this humiliation?
“Whatcha dreamin’ abt, princess?” Billy asked as he finally made it to her bed, hovering over her as her body twitched underneath him. He could tell the dream she was having wasn’t delightful. He just knew he had to be in it.
“Let’s see how long you’ll stay asleep,”
Billy took his time with y/n. Undressing her was something he craved every night. She just looked too good for him not to see her fully naked. She belonged to him, so he deserved every inch of her body.
“You just don’t understand how much I need you. This thing inside of me gave me the push I needed — I’m so thankful,” Billy whispered his last few words as he slowly grinned at her now naked figure.
Billy swore his body would fall apart. It was hard to hold himself back, even though he wanted to go slow. He wanted to take his time with her since the boys were downstairs, too busy talking amongst each other.
Y/n’s body was so damn soft, he just knew once he got inside of her, he’d crumble just like he did last time.
“Fuck, baby,” Billy groaned as he started palming himself. If he didn’t start now, he’d bust too fast. “I swear if you wake up and start makin’ noice, I’ll flip,” Billy said as he came up between her legs, slowly guiding his length towards her entrance.
He didn’t expect her to be dripping. Maybe it was a natural reaction, or maybe she loved being violated like this. Either way, Billy was in luck.
“Tightest fucking cunt I’ve been in, baby,”
Billy pushed through y/n’s slick with so much ease, he could’ve sworn it would never stop.
“Ssh, ssh, don’t start,” Billy whispered as he began snapping his hips, wasting no time to do what he came here to do, even if that meant she’d wake up and start screaming.
“Hmm,” was all Billy heard as y/n started waking up. She didn’t quite know what was going on, so he quickly slapped his hand over her mouth before she could make a noise. That quickly woke her up.
“There you go, baby. Take me in,” Billy groaned as his cock coated with her juice, allowing him to slip into her easier than before.
“Hey- Hey!” Y/n finally understood what was happening. Even though she was still halfway asleep, seeing Billy’s face was never a delight. She hated his existence.
“Nah uh, don’t start all that cryin’, girl. You were just enjoying it,” Billy said as his free hand pushed her waist into her mattress, forcing her to stay in place as much as he could make her. Billy was already strong, but with this new strength, y/n felt like she had absolutely no chance.
“No, help! — Help!” Y/n tried screaming, but couldn’t make Billy think how great his timing was tonight. Steve and Eddie have no clue what’s going on upstairs in their guest room.
“You think they can hear you, princess? I don’t think so. Maybe you should just give up on it, yeah? Enjoy my fucking dick,” Billy spat.
Y/n’s cervix instantly began to hurt. Billy knew he was going to bruise her tonight. He needed to. He needed to mark her every time he was finished with her.
“Think you can take my load?” Billy genuinely asked, thinking y/n would actually answer, but of course, she didn’t. Why would she? He’s violating her from the inside out.
Read Previous Chapters Here! | AO3 | More Dead Dove Fics
Maya gets to be Daddy for a while. While Claire is gone you have some time to sit in the bath, and diagnose yourself as completely insane.
Warnings : Stockholm Syndrome / Insanity / Yandere / Murder / DEAD DOVE / Insanity / Psycopaths and Sociopaths Used Inappropriately / Gov Claire x Reader x Maya Mason / Maya is Daddy / Claire is Mommy / Sexual Violence / non con / Mental Breaking / Shaving Kink / Controling / Jealousy / Cameras / Manipulation / Unwel Characters / Sexual Agression Kink / Gaslighting /Pubic Hair Shaming / Verbal Humiliation Kink / Short one at 3k / 18+
“You’ll find that being attracted to psychopaths has it’s perks.” Claire had said to you before she left. The sentence hummed in your mind like an old metal fan buzzes incessantly in the background.
You wiggled your toes in the water. Laying naked and bruised in the bathtub Maya had drawn for you. Your pussy sore, bruises and small cuts were nothing in comparison to your mental state.
You were addicted, no- in love with a monster.
“You’ll find that being attracted to psychopaths has it’s perks.”
Psychopath.
Claire had used the word with conviction, not a flimsy diagnosis. Or a simple disorder in need of some small pill to dissolve the thoughts, make the mentally ill more digestible for society.
A real psychopath.
In the giant bathtub, you had the nagging sensation of being claustrophobic; maybe that was what abuse was. Not physical abuse, but the abuse of your mind.
A mind was a terrible thing to lose. Yet here you sat in a bubble bath like Alice in Wonderland, pondering where you’d left your mind.
You heard some noise behind the door, bringing you back to where you were. You blink a few times, using a wet hand to move the soapy water over your face.
You’d falsely assumed Maya was only allowed visitation for a short period of time. But the memory of CNN in the police station talking about Claire running for president reminds you that she isn’t simply playing chess with you, but with the world.
This makes you sick, not in the way it should though. No, in the way that you feared what would happen if you spent too much time away from Claire.
What did they call that? Yes, yes, of course Stockholm Syndrome but what was the other name for it?
You rub your wet nose in the tub and wonder why the hot water isn’t soothing.
Semantic abuse, semantic abuse that was it. Where had you heard it? That doesn’t matter, that’s what it was, though, right? The fucking with your head, the emotional rollercoaster you seemed to be strapped on.
The distortion with reality that seemed to make you question yourself.
Claire easily playing you like some kind of instrument, knowing just where to pull back to starve your emotions and where to strike to get just the right sound.
Claire had admitted to wanting you completely broken. It was as though she was making sure you were broken down to a clean slate for her to start a new.
That politicians wife who knew just when to speak, but smiled endlessly.
Your eyes move to the candle lit next to you, trying to remember where the wax behagan when you stared the bath. Something solid to remind you of time.
Time.
You really didn’t remember Maya lighting the candle now that you think of it.
Now that you study it.
The vanilla candle was some Bath & Body Works bullshit that was a cream and beige just like everything else Claire had in here.
The calming tones of beige, or was it some sort of camouflage for a crazy person like Claire?
Those calming bland colors, gentle makeup, and perfectly short and glossed manicure. Not a hair out of place, god you were getting the creeps from this thought, but the beginning of American Psycho seems reminiscent now.
Your eyes flick over the mirror and you can’t face it.
Face yourself in this gorgeous bathroom, in this murderers house.
Claire DeBella had killed for you…She’d held you hostage, she’d broken you.
You lift your hand to your mouth to feel a smile, god what was wrong with you?
Why were you smiling like a schoolgirl crush?
Your fingers dug into the points where your smile pierced your cheek fat.
You were losing it, you had to be.
Claire had a told you she’d gone to a meeting, but didn’t say when she’d be back.
Only telling you to make yourself busy with the manipulation of a smaller prey like Maya Mason.
You hated that you missed Claire.
You inhaled the scent of the bath again and listened for the slightest noise from outside of the bathroom, for Maya Mason to make a noise.
A sign that she was pulling a gross Hitchcock, peaking through the slit in the door.
Fingering herself as you had yet another mental collapse, lost another brain cell that could have been used as your sanity.
You look at the candle again.
The idea of burning the house down plays like some kind of black-and-white creature feature. Would Mr. Cattleprod be able to grab your soapy body before you made it across to the gate? Would the men with machine guns take you down there, or would you get one of those tranquilizer darts like big game?
Your wet, pruney fingers move to grab the sides of the tub. The muscle in your wrist to forearm is straining hard at the intsentiy of your hold.
What would Maya do? The head of Marketing was her own slice of loony pie.
You feel sweat drip down your neck from the heat of the tub, the heat that doesn’t reach you. Your eyes move to the slit under the door, trying to see if you could make out some sort of shadow, but nothing.
Maya Mason.
She was her own breed. No one was like Maya, not in Hollywood, not in New York - fuck not in any country, nowhere. Maya Mason was like a walking advertisement for not dating crazy.
You wince as you move from one buttcheek to the other, the pain reaching you still. The bruises from where Maya had proven her ownership through brute strength. The older woman fucked your pussy with the vigor of a deranged man. Or maybe even a main bent on sexual rage, you hated that you’d cum so hard from the friction and anger.
Anger, now that was an interesting thing that separated the two of them.
Claire was calculated, maybe she got frustrated, but it wasn’t as though she’d killed people on that rooftop from a jealous rage, no she’d like you to believe that.
But Claire had a plan for her plan. What had the Governor said in the car before?
Think, think, come on smart birdie. Oh right;
‘I had originally planned to just kill my stupid husband. No need for the divorce. I was going to say he tried to rape you. Then I’d scare Miles, get the tape back and blackmail him with the pent house video…. But then things changed…Miles and Duke got a little too horny. It’s amazing what a little pinch in their drink does. Plus I crushed up some of Devon’s old Viagra; men are just so predictable. I was fine with them watching, but they touched you. And that’s when it all went south, you don’t remember sweetheart?”’
Yeah, yeah that was all crazy, but Claire was performing for you then.
If Claire was indeed a psychopath, what was Maya? Was she the sociopath counterpart?
Was Maya capable of that?
Oh fuck, did you want her to be?
You sharply intake a breath trying to stop the panic, the flicker of the candle is soft in comparison to the clawing you could do on the tile to shriek like a maniac.
Did you want Maya to be a sociopath? No you rubbed your eyes hard, maybe it was that you were….were reminiscent on a time where she seemed not so devious. Yeah, sure - you tried to lie to yourself.
You take a deep breath, forgetting to breathe. Something in you knew that Claire was watching from a camera, that Maya was up to no good behind the door.
It set your teeth on edge just enough to make you slow every movement you made.
Not in a hurry to give either a show.
This was a good time to think.
To try and figure out what exactly you were really dealing with here.
Psychopaths or Sociopaths? Narcissist or ‘nice guy’ mentality, or simply crazy.
What was the difference again? Between Psycopath and Sociopath? Break them both down, this was the time to do it.
Alone in this tub between the end of the world and your next round of orgasms.
What did you know about psychopaths?
Psychopath were….without remorse? Their dopamine created was different…yes.
The soapy bubble next to your shoulder popped, leaving a lavender scent.
You closed your eyes and tried to think.
Psychology class didn’t cover what to do when stuck with a psychopaths.
Psychopaths? Sociopaths?
They were not always killers. You think it, hoping it’ll settle the sourness in your gut. The part of you that screamed how you were missing your very own Psychopath. You really loved Claire…
The memory of the clicking of the lighter to the candle brings you back.
Look at the candle again.
Stop it, you told yourself, focus.
Get your shit together.
You had a plan.
Now you had to think. The little bit you knew was more easily correlated with the movies produced. Seeing as how that was how you’d made your fortune.
You think of the note Claire had left, quoting Silence of The Lambs.
No, that was far too extreme. But an interesting idea nonetheless.
Claire was, in her own right, closer to the fictional Hannibal portrayal than any other movie you could muster.
You saw it when she’d lied and pretended to be Maya, the conniving liar that is so calculated, so intelligent.
Yet passible in society as extremely charismatic.
But she’d dropped that mask, not even the petting of your hair and cuddling- no coddling, was it - yes, she’d dropped all of that.
But it was easier to remember how her fingers in your cunt, you in her lap.
She’d completely dropped the mask.
No longer matching your breathing, working to blink with you, to make your mammal brain comfortable in her presence.
No, Claire DeBella was a master at her craft.
She was a politician afterall, manipulation was always the game. Lady in beige, huh, yeah, that was it.
But this was different; she’d never be caught. You hate that thought.
It stings you just like her kisses.
Just like how you were alone in her masterball, taking a bubble bath and inside of you - you knew you’d have to wait.
To let your plan take root, to make them branch ranks, to figure out how to grow the problem that would lead to your escape.
Because Claire wasn’t someone who made mistakes.
Or if she did, she cleaned house; no true words could be said, I mean, look at that rooftop gathering of the disruptors.
It was the old saying two people could keep a secret, but one was always best.
Maya would have to slowly be brought to your side, because Governor Hannibal over there was too anal retentive.
I mean, with her spotless house, her cattle prod weilding body guard, and million dollar camera system.
You open your eyes and can almost hear that god damn bird's neck snap on the bars. Your childhood not preparing you for this fight.
What if you weren’t a smart enough bird for this?
Maya’s smile flashed in your mind now.
You could see your engagement ring in that tiny box.
What was Maya then?
Not simply some narcissist? I mean, that felt too easy, and even harder for you to figure out. No, maybe she was….no she wasn’t well. Who else films an orgy room with their girlfriend to demasulate their boss…Who else aids in the kidnapping…No, Maya wasn’t well.
You couldn’t trust her. But was she as good of a liar as Claire?
The door opened, and you twitched but schooled your features as Maya stood there.
“Hey, you wanna watch the uncut film I have to prescreen for next Monday?”
Your face must be void of it’s usual societal quick friendly response because the older woman in front of you seems uncomfortable.
“What’s wrong?” She tilts her head to the side.
Claire and Maya really did look alike, you weren’t simply hopped up on drugs in your food.
Even now, their eyes were a similar shade of blue, hair different lengths but similar tones, lips luchious and ready to leave a lie.
“I got cold.” You lie, it’s easy to lie to Maya. You wonder when you started doing it, at what point in the relationship it became so easy.
A habit really, an easy way to pass the time.
Not just with what Claire had said, about how you’d lost interest in Maya for being easy to manipulate. For not taking.
The bruises in the shapes of her thumbs on your hips could beg to differ.
But still, as she smiled at you, you wondered if Maya was a better liar then you thought?
She walked over to you, lifting a big plush fluffy towel off of the warming rack, (because rich politicians shit).
Maya’s confident in her touching of you, you feel like a doll being manhandled as she dries you. Wrapping you tightly in the fluffy cotton around your shoulders, water dripping down your calves to your ankles.
“Oh, you forgot to shave,” Maya said, and you looked down at your legs in confusion.
You had never been gifted a razor? I mean, why would you have been? You’d used the broken window shards in the basement to makeshift a damn knife.
Claire wasn’t in a rush to hand you sharp, pointy objects.
Maya takes the comfy towel away like you were naughty and no longer deserve it.
Before you could understand the game, Maya has your butt back in the water with a push. Bathwater splashes to the ground.
Air leaves your pursed lips in pain at the sensation of your bruised ass cheeks colliding with the porcelain.
Still Maya moves around the bathroom too easily, finding razors and shaving cream.
Your understanding what’s happening as though you are merely an observer.
But the unsettling truth that Maya knows her way around this bathroom doesn’t leave you.
Yet you’re very sure that this is Maya, not Claire, yes, you’re sure, right?
Your face must not have looked pleasant because when Maya’s got all her items and is back crouching by the tub, she scrunches her own features.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I just didn’t realize I’d gotten so hairy.” Another lie dissolves on your tongue.
Maya’s grin is easy, practiced; you wonder how you never noticed it before.
That somethings off with this woman.
Something beyond the loudness, the blunt LA-ness, the throwing things and having tantrums. No, there was something behind her face, as though it were a mask.
You take a deep breath and notice Maya mirroring it, and it’s akin the scratching of the needle of a lie detector on paper.
The head of marketing isn’t looking at you, just keeping you in her peripheral. As she lathers the shaving cream from your leg to your knee.
The older woman dips the water in the bath and starts at your ankle, the one that’s uncomfortably in the air as your body is engulfed in lukewarm sudsy water.
Maya is touching your foot, moving your ankle, the razor blade shines in the light. Easily slicing hair from your smooth, soapy skin.
“How long have you known Claire?” You ask before you can think about all of the repercussions.
Maya doesn’t knick you, but her hand does twitch.
Got you.
She flips her hair over her shoulder, and you catch the gesture as she signals to her left.
You try not to notice the cameras to be honest, it’s like looking in the eye of a bull. But as you quickly cast a glance and then look back at Maya you aren’t sure if she’s doing this for you.
It seems as though she’s afraid of what Mommy Dearest would think of you two not playing correctly.
Yet you know Claire gave you permission to play.
But the rules were a bit fuzzy on what that all entailed.
Maya gets the dent in the back of your knee as the bath water settles from the abruptness of your splash.
Almost signaling to you that there was a shift in tides.
“You trust Claire, do you? You must.” You push, unsure who will get in trouble for this. Maya doesn’t react, which is interesting in its own right.
“One leg done, one to go, the movie has Aubrey Plaza in it, she’s gay. I know you told her she should play more queer roles. I know I was jealous before, well anyway… it seems she’s really doing well now. ” Maya talks shop, but her face doesn’t emote.
So interesting, you’d missed this when you two were dating of course.
Maybe it was that you were too busy trying to make it clear that you and Maya were over. Or maybe it was that stupid thing people do in new relationships, where they only want to show their best behavior.
But you’d never noticed, not this.
It was like when men rallied around their buddy and informed him post break up that his girl had crazy eyes the whole time, freaking out the rest of the mammals around him.
The shaving cream drips down your Daddy’s forearm. Her forearm and bicep muscles gleam from the bathwater, her sleeves rolled up like a good caretaker.
The pink razor handle in her hand seems so gentle.
The two were so similar at moments.
Claire had a void where manipulation was almost a dance. Her hyper intelligence proves that she needed constant stimulation in order to stay satisfied.
Maya’s gaze rolled as she moved your hips open more, causing your bruised cunt a gush of water. She eyed your pubic hair like it was her final destination. But she lathered her hands with shaving cream again to get your thighs down.
You feel stupid now. As the older womans hands were commanding your legs where she needed them.
You wondered if Maya was the other side of Claire’s coin.
I mean now you knew that Maya had killed for you before, and you’d just never noticed the blood stains. Too busy with the nice parties, premieres, and work events, thinking she was just heavily opinionated. Gentlemen like in her opening of doors both physically and symbolically for you.
“You think Matt’s doing a good job? Anyone notice I’m gone?” You try a different tactic. Like you were adding another element to your experiment.
But Maya’s hand rests on your soapy knee too hard.
“You miss Matt?” She asks, her canines are so white your sheepish brain can’t help but notice them.
“What?” You say confused, unsure of where she got that from what you’d said.
Maya lets out an angry breath through her nose and you’re being lifted out of the bath. You gasp as your throat is being held and you’re no longer in the tub, but being pushed against the bathroom sink.
It happens so fast that the melted candle knocks over and is put out by the piles of water that come out of the bath.
The water mixing with the bathwater on the ground.
You gasp in pain at your windpipe, but Maya’s still got a razor in her hand.
You grab dumbly at her arm to stop the choking.
“You think Daddy’s just some dumb thing you can play with don’t you? I’m nice to you, and you think, what? What? What, I can’t discipline you the same?” Maya’s eyes dilate so hard.
She’d getting dopamine from this, you can see it in her face, she’s not just angry.
Maya wants to discipline you, she wants you to push her.
Wow, you were bad at reading people before.
Including yourself, the brute strength of Maya’s action made your cunt clench wetly. Your nipples harden even further; it wasn’t simply your choking kink…fuck you wish it was.
Claires words find you now as your life is in the balance; “I do wonder if you forgave Maya for her indiscretions, but found her spineless. Even though she too is a murderer. But you don’t like that she tries to behave. Even asking for your hand instead of taking it…Why still are you so angry with me, when it is so abundantly clear I am exactly what you want, what you need. I even played outside of the rules, I never asked.’
“Ma-ya” You croak from your choking.
Be a smart bird, you thought as your legs don’t touch the ground.
Maya holds the pink girly razor up to your face to show you. As though you were the one who didn’t understand.
“I’m going to shave you bare, you’re going to stay still. If I cut you because you’re being a fucking brat. It’ll be no more nice Daddy, you got it?” She threatens.
Water’s all over the floor, your butt is on the marble countertop, beauty care things are knocked over.
But all you can focus on in this chaos, isn’t the blade that’s near your pussy now, but the way Maya’s not even a bit out of breath.
You get wetter, fuck Claire was right.
You liked this better.
You move to open your legs further for her, an invitation.
Maya seems to get even more excited at your reaction, like she’s training you correctly now.
The razor moves from the inside of your pussy lip up, Maya leans in close to your mouth.
She’s not looking, where she’s gliding the blade.
You feel the coolnes as your pubic hair is being shed, one more thing they take away from you.
Maya’s face is centimeters from yours, her breath on your lips, as she brings the razor back down towards your clit. The metalic unforgiving, just like Maya it would seem.
The blood rushes from your cheeks to your cunt.
Maya’s unyielding, as she holds you harshly against the mirror. The violence only a teensey bit away.
Maya shaves you with one hand squeezing your throat, and you hate yourself but….
You moan.
You’d not planned for this, you’d misjudged Daddy, that was a big mistake.
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Can I get a part 2 of when Sebastian raped the reader? I am sorry I just really loved that one, one Idea I had for the story is that after the events happening on the previous story, reader got a abortion or killed the baby and went for help from the one they loved to get away from Sebastian and Ciel. You can decide the rest of the story and if it deserves a happy ending or not
Thank you! By 🌸anon
Sorry to keep you waiting. I hope you like it! ✨
TW: Graphic violence & Gore, psychological abuse/Coercion, grief and loss of a child, implications of coercive reproductive control, yandere, Dark Sebastian Michaelis
«Thought you could run away from me?»
You were shaking like a leaf caught in a storm. You had cried so much that your tear ducts were now as dry as the Sahara.
The cause of all this lay at your feet.
Blood. Everywhere.
On the floor, on the walls, on the curtains, on your face… on your hands.
What was once your future husband was no longer a person, but a collection of shreds. And standing before that horror was him: Sebastian Michaelis.
You couldn't tear your eyes away from the scene. He was dead because of you, your fault alone. If instead of running away… if only you had accepted your destiny! Instead, you had decided to take refuge in his arms, as if a poor human could do anything against the Phantomhive demon.
«I let you wander, hide, and run away from me, just for fun.»
You saw him speaking, but it was as if you couldn't hear him. Your ears were ringing and you could still hear the screams of your beloved. Was he? If you had truly loved him, you wouldn't have condemned him to certain death.
Slowly, Sebastian approached you, stepping over the evidence of his crime.
His red eyes scrutinized you as if he were weighing what to do with you.
«I never expected you to run to that man!»
He grabbed you by the shirt, pulling you close to him. You could feel his warm breath.
You were sure he would kill you soon. You deserved it, didn't you?
«I should kill you.»
A hiss. A threat whispered in your ear.
«Do what you must… you’ve already taken everything from me.»
You paused briefly, unsure whether to go further. Did you really want to open Pandora's box?
«You even ripped my child away from me.»
You still felt anger, hatred, and resentment, but your voice and face were expressionless.
Those words seemed to strike him deep down. He let you go gently and placed his hand on your soft cheek.
What was that gentleness?
«I wasn't the one who took him from you, and you know it. These things just happen.»
No, no, it couldn't have been your fault! Not the death of your child too.
Did he mean that you had killed your child? Anger struck you like a lightning bolt, and you started shouting with all the strength you had left.
«Bastard! I didn't kill them! It's your fault and yours alone!»
You even tried to pounce on him, but he forcefully blocked your arms and threw you to the ground.
You got back up like a fury, and you continued to "fight." Every time, he stopped you.
It was amusing to see you like that, but above all, it was exciting.
Did you care that much about his child?
Well, you wouldn't have to worry much longer. Soon he would give you another.
Who knows, maybe even five or six.
Finally, he put an end to that pathetic scene and pinned you against the wall.
«Shhh, be a good girl.»
And you did. There was nothing left to fight for. You thought that maybe things could turn out fine if you just accepted it.
After all, what choice did you have left?
He watched you surrender. Gently, you raised your gaze to meet his eyes. Red, desirous of you. You had to be just like that, compliant and devoted to him. Devoted only to him.
«Please…»
Oh, how he loved it when you begged him.
Ironic for a demon, isn't it?
«I won't run away anymore, just…»
He raised an eyebrow and smirked.
«Just what?»
«Just don't hurt me anymore, I'll be obedient, I swear!»
He laughed. Pleased.
He had won; what more could he want? The woman he desired with all his heart finally belonged to him alone.
You wouldn't fight and kick every time he approached you anymore. As much as it amused him at first, it had become frustrating.
To reward you, he decided he would be gentle and tender.
He pressed his warm lips against yours, now dry and chapped, giving you a kiss as light as the wind.
In response, as your last tears fell down, you returned it uncertainly and clumsily.
«To reward you, once we are back at the manor, I'll give you another child.»
A phrase that should have made you shudder no longer had any effect on you.
Why not try accepting your destiny? Maybe it would turn out better than expected.
Of course, not that you had much choice...
P.S.: Sorry for any mistakes, English is not my first language.
I'm happy to say that while I've been waiting for my new job to start, I've been taking a lot of time to work on my novel Bound by Bramble. It's come a long way and I'm excited to say it's almost complete then I can start working on the editing. Pretty soon here, I'm going to reaching out to artists to have some art done for the book. I'm thinking of also hiring an animator to do a small trailer for the book to either post for an ad and/or kickstarter not sure yet.
Don't worry! I pay for all artwork I have requested! Artists should be paid!
Does anyone have any recommendations of where they recommend I go to hire artists for this kind of project? For smaller projects, I would go to Deviantart. Though if they are other platforms, I am open to those as well. I don't know if it matters but thinking of some illustrations, then small pieces that will be placed on each page then some 1 page comic pages of certain scenes.
Thanks for any help you can provide!
EDIT: I wanted to add a quick heads-up for any artists who may be interested in reaching out about this project.
Bound by Bramble is a dark fantasy and contains mature and potentially upsetting subject matter. This includes scenes of non-consensual sexual assault, an M/M central pairing, themes of cultural erasure and racism, kidnapping, blood and gore, and other heavy topics.
I completely understand that these themes aren't something everyone is comfortable illustrating or having their name associated with, so I wanted to be upfront about the content before anyone contacts me regarding commissions.
I also wanted to say thank you to everyone who has reached out already! I originally made this post because I was looking for recommendations on where to find artists, and I honestly didn't expect to receive so many messages from artists themselves so quickly.
That said, I don't want to give anyone the impression that I'll be making a decision right away or that this project is starting immediately. My novel is almost finished, but it still needs to go through editing before I'm ready to begin commissioning artwork. Realistically, that will probably be around two months from now.
This is also going to be a fairly large project, so I'm taking the time to budget for it properly. I've already set aside some money because I knew I'd eventually be commissioning art, but I'd rather save a bit more than overextend myself too early in the process.
My current plan is to begin with an animated teaser or trailer that I can share here on Tumblr and potentially use as part of a future Kickstarter campaign. After that, I'll start looking at commissioning the book's illustrations, page decorations, and comic-style scene artwork.
So if I don't respond immediately or make a decision anytime soon, please don't take it personally. I really appreciate everyone's interest, and I'll be taking my time to review portfolios and reach out when I'm ready to move forward.
additional info
This story is set in medieval Ireland and will have a Celtic theme to the art.
The story:
Emrys, a wizard-for-hire, takes a job to kill a monster that's been preying on hunters in a forest. The creature turns out to be Qiryeth, a half-deer, half-man Aos Si being who made a pact with a god, Cernunnos, to gain power for revenge and bring balance back to the forest.
Qiryeth was once an ordinary deer who fell down a hole while fleeing a hunter. Trapped and unable to escape, he slowly suffered starving over days. In his desperation, he made a deal with a deity to become something more, something capable of striking back against the hunters who had caused his suffering. The transformation gave him the power to hunt the hunters themselves.
Rather than killing Qiryeth, Emrys chooses to capture him, driven by fascination and attraction. This creates an unusual relationship between captor and captive, wizard and transformed creature, with implicit questions about power, mercy, and whether Qiryeth's vengeance was justified or monstrous.
The story explores cycles of violence (hunters become hunted), the cost of transformation and power, and moral ambiguity. The romantic or obsessive element between Emrys and Qiryeth adds complexity to what could have been a simple monster-slaying tale.
