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saint-siren · 5 months

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A World For Her Alone | Ptolemaea

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15

cw (chapter specific): pregnancy, childbirth, dubcon, death, the aftermath of severe abuse, slavery, derealization (?), the general ennui of noble marriage

pairing: claude x fem!reader

summary: Men! Don't they always think of "the one that got away"?

author's note: Girlfail Barbie and Catholic guilt ken or whatever the kids are saying idk.

When he returned to life again, he was haunted by a fervor to change things. He was a desperate animal caught in a trap, biting his own limb in a bid to escape. He’d languished too long in the inevitable misery that befell him again and again and again. This time, he told himself again, it would be different. He considered readying a horse to come and warn you about this thing that had overtaken him but there were obvious flaws in the plan such as; what if he saw Diana and was besotted again before he had the chance to tell you everything? Even if he succeeded what was he to say to you? What would you be able to do that you had not already attempted? How could you break this hold? What would your knowledge of his predicament mean against something that felt so primordial, something that compelled him to kill you?

What measure could be taken to change this? The last few minutes before he would have to bring himself to truly live this life, he spent at his desk, resigned to writing a missive.

For some reason, this life’s distinctions were more prominent. Firstly, it felt like reality was itself melting, sliding off its center to be remolded around him in the blink of an eye like candle wax. There were times where he forgot that his body wasn’t his own, that he identified with that darkness that puppeteered his body with grotesque ease. Things in that life had an unreal quality to them as if a fever dream he’d soon wake from. The horror of this life was softer, it was brighter, sweeter. He no longer begged for mercy, he only phased into the void that had become him deeper and deeper until he could no longer claim the pain he experienced as his own. He fell in love with Diana again, everything was wrong but he gave himself to the faltering, glitching reality that provided his distraction.

Had he only imagined it or had you become close with your sister in this life? It was unthinkable to him that you would, remembering all the pain she had caused you, still seem to love and look after her. It was a gesture that horrified him, the depths of your magnanimity, your forgiveness were hard for him to handle. Where was the rage you were due? Where was the lady he’d known before? Where had that livid and mournful glint in your eyes, like the silver pommel of the kitchen knife he’d nearly stabbed you with, that had appeared the life after your daughter had been born? Its sudden disappearance was an omen, he was convinced. Now, your eyes were soft as a saint’s, it was a sweet look of righteous suffering. Yours was the look of a martyr.

He was too late to save you, that look told him as much. You were a woman going to into the flame, worn and deprived of her fight; of the vicious urge for retribution. You were the dregs of a woman, bent to the shape of the realities you’d inhabited. Bent partial to Diana. This peace between sisters had come at a cost he would only live to know in your next life.

You tutored Diana, persistently, pushing her to learn more always. You two spent a great deal at each other’s sides and Claude was aware that even though in previous lives, you’d suffered criticism for not being close enough with your sister; now you were seen as an overbearing older sister pushing her poor, helpless little sister to always do more. He could not really grasp at reality strong enough to muster more outrage at the world which now seemed to be a mindless chorus, for their hypocrisy. Curiously, though, his greater self was pleased at your conduct and ignored the slanderous chatter. The darkness was sated by your concern for your sister and it thanked you by not making efforts to exclude you, he was still flirting with Diana quite openly, to be sure, but it was much less careless. It felt more as if the two of them were not hiding, not rebelliously defying, but expressing themselves easily before you, knowing that your bite had gone soft, your eyes like that of the rest of their world; understanding how important Diana was.

As the date of your wedding approached, something bad was going to happen. He felt it or perhaps he heard it whispered in the static of a reality which was falling down on top of him all the time. It sat in the pit of his stomach, an anxious ache that never soothed, a wound he could feel festering even when the rush of love for Diana flooded his careworn mind.

Days before your wedding, he was informed that you’d run away. A strange sort of grief did come over him by way of his false heart, his greater self almost seemed to mourn you. To him, and the distinction between his two selves in that moment had never been clearer, it felt as though you’d betrayed him. You’d made him care for you, if only in the slightest and most shallow way possible and then you vanished. You promised to marry him, to make a good wife to him, marchioness to his people and mother to his children. You smiled in his face each time you met and spoke to him with clear affection but you abandoned the future the two of you had painstakingly prepared with years of effort. Like he was nothing. Like the unspoken understanding, the ease that had been built was nothing at all. It disoriented this vast, arrogant creature, it felt to this monstrous part of him like trickery, like deprivation.

His true self knew that this was not the bad thing he’d anticipated. If it were, the seed of anxiety planted in his mind would have finally given way to the deeper misery he knew was to follow and set him free of his fearful, agonizing waiting. But he was still wound tightly, still waiting for the other shoe to drop. You running away from him was not the bad thing; what fate would make you pay for it, was. He had seen this part before, he knew it ended in blood. So he hoped, at least, you got to run quite far before it did. Before reality closed around its status quo again.

Out of obligation and the longtime investment made from his family to yours, he needed to marry a lady of your house. Since you were gone, it fell to Diana to fulfill this duty. This life, Diana had been educated suitably enough to be a marchioness, for theirs not to be an ill-fated marriage for the territory. Claude realized that this must have been by design, it was your insistent effort that led to her being educated so efficiently. He’d heard talk of you seeming to bully her with how much you pushed her to learn. This was your design. You had always planned to run and leave the two of them to what the fates clearly wanted to happen. Although it was an ache in his chest that you were gone, the more pressing feeling was a forlorn emptiness at the fact that he knew how it would end and he could do nothing to stop it.

On the day he married Diana, it was bright and cloudless, surely indicative of the sort of marriage he was to have with her. Her cheeks were flushed with the enduring surprise of being able to marry him but also with surpassing happiness. But did he only hallucinate a crow flying swiftly across the pale morning sky, casting a shadow on them briefly? He could not know. He retained little of his wedding to Diana. After all, it was a frightening thing, this end. This thing he’d been fighting for so long had caught up to him, it had won, or it would in time. It felt like he was further trapped in a labyrinth where before he could at least the see the sky above, now he was completely hidden in the belly of the beast with no end in sight. Everything was Diana. Everything always would be.

The defiling of his will and dignity would be ritual, it would dutiful and nightly. It would loving and soft. It would give him the very precious heirs his people counted on him to provide. It would make a mother of Diana, something she had so desperately wanted as he recalled. In time, he was sure to soften to the ordeal, his despair would only be monotonous, dull, unable to rip open any wounds due to the scar tissue of all his lives prior. This was marriage, he kept telling himself. This was marriage.

Even so, a peculiar thing did happen: Claude had a group of his knights search for you for as long as fiscally reasonable. For two years, he had his knights span out following possible traces of your existence. It was not his own will, his own words that left his mouth but it was so different from everything this thing that puppeteered him had done before. It had showed you sparse concern even when it was in regards to his heir, the thing that should have come before anything. But now, he found that he demanded his knights search for your whereabouts with ease long after your family gave up the pretense. He did so not out of a fervent desire for revenge, the fury of one who had been robbed of something, it was done out of a sort of grief. A sort of desperation to hold to a woman who disappeared into thin air, to reach through the distance and claim the answers you denied.

Claude’s marriage to Diana in the meantime, was not as he imagined the fates would have it be. Of course there was love and affection, of course there was even a constructed desire within him and of course he suffered it inwardly. But there was something that haunted both of them too, a ghost slipped between them always. A ghost who functioned like a scary story for children, whose name being spoken accidentally was just enough to breathe life back into her, just enough to allow her to haunt them. At first, Diana told him that perhaps you had someone you ran away to be with and even his body in the cold hands of his greater self, rejected the notion. He wondered what could ever have given her such an idea, that a woman so meek and truly devoted would have been having an affair. Even that time you left with your knight he didn’t truly believe there was anything between you, it was a desperate measure to escape just like this time. He almost seemed to recoil from her when she spoke of it, it was nothing more than a subtle shift in the air, in his expression but for the first time, Diana seemed to have noticed it even if she did not acknowledge it with words. The message was clear from his expression, the change in tone and the sudden tepidness between them; your escape was to be a sore subject.

It changed the dynamic between them a bit but being married had also done that well enough. Diana was a marchioness who had a certain countenance to keep up, work to do and places to go. She was no longer the vulnerable, tender, helplessly ill girl who begged him to be her reason for continuing on. She now had purpose of her own. None of this displeased his greater self too severely but it did change things between them. No longer were they truly knight and princess. They lived in the real world now as Marquis and Marchioness. It was not like it was with you but it was…changed. A sense of duty settled within her, he got the feeling. She walked with her head higher, her emotions that were once vibrant and expressive on her face were dimmed to a polite mask of a half smile. It was bizarre to see her so grown up.

The ritual degrading practice of lovingly bedding the wife who shouldn’t have been his, seemed to have an odd effect on him this time around. Where before he was able to separate himself, he felt this time he fell deeper into the reality of his situation the longer he was married to Diana. Each time he lay back onto the bed, skin tacky with both their sweat, he was able to physically feel the horror that came with the long line of years that would stretch out between them. Each time he returned to reality enough to feel the result of having just been inside her, he was hit with dread as if time could never dull it. Where before he could only consider the implications of the freshly committed betrayal of you and of his own mind, now he could see a greater picture being painted. This was to be his life from then on, laying back onto his side of the bed with a relieved sigh and cuddling her close speaking of children to be born. While inside, he ceaselessly clawed at the walls, a mad prisoner no longer considering freedom an option, desiring death.

And in those moments, he also thought of you. He thought of where you’d gone. A long time had passed and a long time would pass before you’d see him again. He wondered whether you were living happily somewhere, could it be? Could it really not be that you were somewhere happily living even if just until the blade swinging deftly above your head finally fell? He was the most desperate of men and he imagined it as if a fairytale, a lullaby to take him into a fitful sleep before he would wake and live a life circling around the very tarnishment of both your souls.

At some point he had slipped somewhere. His manner with Diana, although loving to be sure, was whetted to a slight sharpness. It was a strange nuance that he had only realized after years of marriage passed by with him gone inward to your memory. A chill had come to the marquisate that no fire would warm. It started in a small way, in your name slipping out every so often when he spoke of Diana whilst she was not in his presence. It was forgivable, no one spoke ill. But…it progressed to thoughts of you that were shared with his greater mind. A peculiar thing that shook him free of the derealization that came with this sort of monotony in misery. He realized that his thoughts came in one stream, instead of parallel and distinctive. He realized that above his own heart aching, the one that beat for Diana stung for…for something he had once and now could have no more.

Diana seemed to know. Your ghost was no longer benign, you were an active member of the household. Everyday, at some point as he and Diana spoke, he got the sense that she wanted to broach a topic but couldn’t, out of some fear that even speaking of it would harden it to truth. Some insecurity she desperately wanted him to soothe was instead locked away, tamed in fear that it could only be confirmed. It was as if mentioning you at all was a taboo. Claude parsed the difference between this Diana and the ones who came before when he was about the enter the library but heard voices.

“Madame, is it really okay to leave things like this?,” sounded the voice of one of Diana’s servants. The woman had a habit of forming such inappropriate bonds, the two became friends when Diana entered the marquisate as its new mistress. She would have known such a friendship would be unseemly but even so, it was hard for a woman such as Diana to live as a marchioness, beneath a mask as all noblewomen did, without someone she needn’t bother using it with. Claude had not been able to deny her that much.

Claude had paused in the hall when he heard the voice of Diana. He knew why he’d done so, for once, his minds were in tentative agreement. He had come there to think, to be alone with your memory. That day was the anniversary of your disappearance and he wanted to ask the definitive question again and again, until he could put it to rest for the next time. Diana could not be there for his mourning, he did not want her there, more than that. His still heart did love Diana very much, such had not changed, but this time, you were not so easily forgotten. A stain on his heart that should not be there…he knew his wife would see it in his demeanor, his brooding expression and no matter how many times she’d tried to ignore the poignance of the date, it always revealed itself to be stark and imposing.

Diana replied to the servant in a rather genuine tone, “He is a wonderful husband. He has done nothing worthy of reproach.”

Something kept him listening, he could not parse what because his greater self was too busy considering the words that had been, were being and would be spoken between the two women.

“It is…unseemly, for a married man to cling so much to a memory.” The maid sounded as if she wanted to use a word more derogatory than just “unseemly,”

“It cannot be helped,” Diana sighed. “She was his fiancee for much of his life, of course he is still devastated, compared to how long they’ve known each other, the wound is still fresh.”

“Even so, he has you, Madame. Why does he sulk and think of a woman who left him, ran out on him days before their wedding when he has a woman who has loved him faithfully?”

“Don’t ever speak that way, Maude. She is my sister, she is not some random noble you can insult carelessly,” Diana said, with as much sharpness as her voice could carry. “In any case…it is not so simple.”

“Forgive me for speaking out of turn but I fail to understand why it is not simple.”

“It cannot be simple. He is grieving. He and I wed so soon after, before he was able to gather his bearings, even. He may love me more than he ever loved my sister but it is still a loss of something I cannot replace. Who I am as his wife is entwined with that grief as a matter of course, it is simply the star our marriage fell under.”

“Have you ever considered confronting the lord, Madame? Forgive me again for saying so, but I just…after what you found, I don’t believe this is as it seems.”

He could hear the weak smile in Diana’s voice, the suddenly infused lightheartedness. “Oh, I could never do that. Then he’d known I was poking my nose where I shouldn’t have been and even so, I still don’t completely understand what it could mean. Whether a confession or something else, I don’t understand what his intentions were. I…I’m comfortable with never understanding if it means I never have the chance of finding a more unsettling thought beneath.”

“Madame…,” The maid’s voice sounded helpless and full of pity which struck an odd chord within him. A hatefulness unearned, small and weak to be sure but definitely present. At the same time, his heart sunk. He knew all at once exactly what she’d found, what gave her this wariness aside from his small actions. A fractured piece of reality appeared again as if it had never been missing, with the seamlessness of a dream. The letter…it seemed worlds away, it genuinely shocked him to hear what he thought was a reference to it. It hit him as if he’d heard her casually mention she’d been killed a few times over. And there was that pinprick of anger toward her for even knowing about such a thing, from both parts of him for different reasons. For telling her maid and garnering pity that should by rights go to the lost sister whose family had not even looked for her for longer than a month. In his greater self’s mind, for tainting the relief he was capable of feeling when he looked to her even more than it already had been with this. He could not even remember what he’d said but he knew it was something she should not know, it felt so viscerally wrong for her to have read words meant for your eyes. And undoubtedly, though he knew not what words he wrote, he cursed his love her in some manner.

But he took a deep breath and walked away before she could find him eavesdropping and bring it up to him. Something had….changed, he felt. Irreparably so. There was a certain synchrony between his two selves in a way there had never been before and something between he and Diana had shifted because of it. More noticeably this time, there was distance.

Diana found that she was pregnant with their first child soon after and there was as much apprehension in him as there was joy. Reality glitched all the time for him during the pregnancy, memories of you, of her, of previous lives intruded on his senses. Something about her being with child frightened him. His vision was often intercut with visions of the past, of your body, slowly seeping blood and still warm while the wails of your daughter fell on deaf ears. He heard Diana’s anguished crying, giving birth to a son who wasn’t certain to live. This foreboding and regret did not extend to his greater self who found other reasons to feel a note of fear at the thought of having a child with Diana. There was a desperation in that part of him, to make things right again, to make them what they’d been before when they were only illicit, courtly lovers. And even still, he knew it would not be. He could pray as much as he liked, he knew that for however loved and wanting this child would be, he would still be reminded of a future he’d lost with you.

Why was he still so concerned about you when you were not the woman he loved? He could not shut the door on your memory not matter how much he wanted to. Was it as Diana said? Was it because he’d known you so longer? He couldn’t think so. It was not like him to be sentimental because of time. Perhaps, he thought, it could be because of how you behaved in the year before you ran away. You treated Diana with a special kindness, you turned a blind eye to the obvious love between them and you ran away just short of your own wedding knowing that she’d…she’d had to marry him in your stead…You had done it on purpose. You had primed her to wed him, you knew what they had and you made it possible by abandoning your whole life. That revelation filled him with some unknown mixture of feelings that he could not stand. It was always to be a thorn in his heart, he would always remember who he owed this life to. And how could he be happy with that as he should be? How could he be happy not knowing why you allowed it to be and where you had gone now? How could you grant such an act of selflessness and disappear? You clearly didn’t want to be found. Why?

The more he thought of you, the more ennui he felt with his life with Diana. Their marriage was haunted by the shadow of your sacrifice. The day his child was born, a daughter, it was a night just like the one where your parents informed him you’d run away. Again his apprehension surpassed his joy when Diana went into labor, he’d paced anxiously outside in the hall listening to her sounds of pain while he looked out the window at the moon which hung in the sky like a being in its own right, watching him apathetically. He tried to get your memory out of his system before his daughter came into the world. He just…he just wished for that moment to be theirs alone. When their daughter was born, healthy and crying loudly from the terrible newness of the world, Diana held her to her chest, crying soft tears of her own at the newness of motherhood. Although his happiness was great, it was edged in something that could not be ignored, something which he felt tainted the moment in some way. He thought again on the night you disappeared and again asked himself where you could be, what you could be doing, did you have children of your own now? Somehow, he hoped you did. It would hurt him badly to know you had children with another man, love or no love between he and you, but he still wanted you to have that much. But that wasn’t the thought that truly cemented the fact that he and Diana would never have a moment that belonged to them again. It was actually the fact that when he first set eyes on his daughter, he looked for your face in hers.

He was glad Diana had been looking down at their daughter at that moment, perhaps if she’d looked up just then, she’d have caught a glimpse of that yearning in his eyes. He cried and thanked her for giving him a child, making him a father and it was genuine gratitude but the tears, the tears were for what was lost and what was left of you which endured. And inside, he dwelled in anguish because what remained of his true self was further broken, disillusioned by the fact that this child that he so pitifully wanted to avoid, had been born. She would live, her name written in his family registry, raised with careful hands and more love than most. She would live well and your child, he one who knew she’d lost you and had the only sensible reaction to it, her name was yet unknown.

As the years passed, Claude and Diana settled into life as parents. He realized that what Diana expected of him as a father simply didn’t come naturally, he was not an overtly affectionate person in general for anyone but Diana. This did not compute to her, and of course it didn’t, with her having your parents excessive favor and then with the underlying hair thin cracks in their marriage. She required his gestures to be grander, she required more assurance of his love. So, he got more comfortable with it for her sake, he made his affection more theatrical for her, though it felt more like wearing a different mask more than it felt like actually changing who he was. He didn’t exactly know how to be a father, his own wasn’t much of an example, he felt awkward and clumsy with it on his own but he knew how to emulate with the best of them. As was necessary for life as an aristocrat. This had the inadvertent effect of raising his daughter feeling less personal, less of a bond. It felt more like everything else in his life as a nobleman did, false and procedural. And there was the fact that both his selves were reminded of you when they looked at her, inevitably, even if only for a split second each time. One side reminded of what once was and one side reminded of what could have been.

Luckily, the child was much like her mother and did not comprehend the difference. She was young yet, and still he feared she would not go to him, that she’d cry and fuss in his arms, rejecting him instinctively. Sometimes, Claude felt worried that one day when she was older, she’d look to him for comfort, so he would put forth his best image but she’d see something in him that would tell her how false he was. But it never happened, the child slept easy in his arms and though Diana pouted a bit, she was amused her daughter was a daddy’s girl just as she was. Everything was alright, especially compared to some very frigid noble marriages he’d hear gossip about before. It seemed that the two of them had reached a mutual, unspoken agreement. They’d never talk about what they lacked, they’d take consolation in what they had managed to keep even if it wasn’t what it used to be.

They went on like that. The time passed quickly, reality seemed to melt, not with hard glitches but the lines blurred together. It got to the point where he felt that the date of your disappearance was not years past but minutes ago. He felt as though he were in the night trailing after you, shouting your name just as much as he felt like an ordinary father with the wife he coveted for so long. His body vibrated with a dull hum and at night when he laid beside Diana to sleep, lights flashed beneath his eyelids as if a candle were lit before him. He would come home and hold his daughter in his arms and still feel as though his breath would come out in a puff from the cold, feel as though something had only just been taken. Every so often the child he held felt foreign to him. He could not even recognize which side of him the feeling belonged to, he was not sure it mattered now. Perhaps this was the real end. Maybe you’d gotten away happily and it was his punishment this time to never feel what he should even when he had what he wanted. He could accept that much, he thought with more peace than he deserved in the delusion.

Of course it was when he accepted the idea of living without you that he came back. A messenger was sent, hesitant to relay the information that Felix and a few of his comrades had been tracking your whereabouts independently from the orders of your parents. You’d been found, barely alive, trapped in an establishment of very ill repute, worked as a slave.

This news was enough to devastate and selfishly relieve him. You were alive. You had been worked nearly to death. You were supposed to have lived well enough, perhaps a simple, rustic life as a merchant’s wife with children born of love always at your skirts. “Will she live?” His voice broke.

The messenger shook his head. “We don’t know, my lord. We only know that the count and countess are receiving her soon.”

Claude almost didn’t bother telling Diana, rushing to find a servant to have a horse prepared so that he could ride there and see you for himself. Until he was met with Diana who entered the room, seeing her family’s sigil on the sleeve of the messenger and he had to tell her. Yes, that was right…It was Diana who’d lost more than he had when you left. Of course it was necessary to tell her first. Somehow, it disappointed him to not be able to see you alone. To know that inevitably, Diana would want to see you and she’d bring along their daughter whom she couldn’t be without. All manner of frenzied feelings were passing through his greater self but prominently, there was a distinct, selfish desire to see you again. A thought that perhaps it would fix everything that has been wrong with him since you ran away. And concurrently ran the sharp anguish of his inner self which had awakened from its comfortable misery. Again in this life, you had suffered for his sake. He could not seem to stop stealing your life again and again and again. What had been done to you? What had you suffered while he raised a child that wasn’t yours? Deprived of your status and kept as a slave; oh, the image his mind had painted from what he knew of such things from his knighthood was a grotesque one. You, who had already been stripped of everything several times over, deprived even of the safety in your noble status. The only thing that made being born to such a family as yours, tied to such a fate as his more bearable, that you’d not be subject to all the cruelties of the world, only the ones he could inflict.

Diana’s eyes grew large and clouded over as he told her what news had arrived. He stiffened at this, hypocritically suspicious of her concern. He felt a pinprick of annoyance at her, remembering now, the time she’d suggested you’d have been the type to run away with a lover. He felt the briefest urge to shame her, he hoped for a second that she’d remember it too as he had and be ashamed. It faded quickly and it stung but he couldn’t be bothered to scold himself for it. The more important issue at hand was your life. Diana spluttered, “My sister has been found? Where is she now?” She, perhaps not the most dutiful sister, did show at least this much love for you. In her eyes, he could see the resolve to see you again despite a slight troubled look in them. She was ready to go wherever you had. Claude’s careworn, lovesick heart softened some and instead of answering her, he simply called out to a passing servant to ready the carriage, for they were going to the manor of his in-laws right away.

Diana woke up their daughter from her nap and the three of them made their way your parents’ manor where they awaited your return after so many years. Your parents tried to take pains to greet him formally, to reach for their grandchild but he waved them off rudely. “Where is she?”

Your mother flinched, pulling away, embarrassed to have been snubbed so brashly by him. “She’s being brought here by the knights, they’ve not yet arrived but they should return shortly.”

Diana’s brow furrowed at her mother’s disposition. Something about the situation had apparently unsettled her but she said nothing in regards to it. Claude had the urge to tell her, “Look closely at the woman you know to be your mother, does she look worried at all about your sister? Look at your father, too. Does he seem as you imagine we would if we located the dying body of our daughter after she’d been missing nearly a decade?” He wanted her to see them as they were even if it were too late for it to matter. He wanted her to see who favored her, what sort of people loved her, a wretched murderer, a philanderer, a careless woman. He wanted her to wonder what it said about her that she’d be loved by them.

You arrived shortly as your parents probably prayed so that they’d not have to deal with more questions and the suspicious look in their only true daughter’s eyes, the disillusionment. Felix brought you up your old bedroom, he’d gone up to have the servants ready it for your arrival, overseeing their work anxiously to make sure it was made comfortable enough for a woman of an unknown level of severe illness and injury. Diana had wanted to follow him up to help but he’d, gently as he was capable of in such a situation, had her wait downstairs under some thin guise in relation to their daughter. He’d not wanted to be around them then, as the time grew nearer to seeing you again.

When Felix brought you upstairs, he stood at attention from the corner where he sat anxiously looking about your room. You had large bruises up and down your body, you were filthy with blood caked under your nails and on the side of your head clinging to brittle hair, you were bandaged here and there in haste. He made a small sound of anguish and surprise, for it was one thing to be told you were near death, another thing to see it, smell it, feel it radiate off of your body. You were decaying even as you drew breath. Felix’s gaze lifted to Claude unabashedly hateful for a moment as he realized he was in the room but quickly flickered back down to you. Claude pulled back the covers on the bed for Felix to set you down and called for the doctor in a voice that betrayed a stifled sob.

The doctor did as he could for you under the somber watch of Claude but even so, you remained unconscious. He didn’t leave your side, praying for you to open your eyes at least, even if just briefly. Even if just to damn him. Even if you were doomed as the doctor seemed to believe. He’d said you were almost certain to die, that it was a matter of making you comfortable, an offense which had gotten him a verbal lashing from Claude even though he knew it was most likely the truth. Diana hesitated to bring their daughter up the room, knowing your body’s fragile condition and the very apparent air of death that surrounded had already frightened her, she came to see you later when she put their daughter down.

She loomed over your body, trying to find somewhere to touch you, to let you know she was here with you but everywhere was marred and she drew her hand back with a horrified look from seeing you up close, teary eyed. A strange marriage of anger, pity and love did come over him when he saw that. He wanted her to leave him be with you, he wanted to condemn her for even wanting to see you when the reason you were dying was because you made a sacrifice for your sake. But how could he? They were both guilty of the same sin, same measure. Their union was only made possible through their selfish brandishing of their love so how could he turn his back on her so belatedly? How could he deny her for this when he’d been the one to gain the most from their union? For shame or for pride, she was his wife. They were too closely entwined for him to become a hypocrite just now. Though, that hardly meant he wanted to see her healthy, well and with their child while the woman who was deprived of everything lay dying.

He sent Diana from the room, again under the guise of their daughter, “assuring” her that he’d stay at your side all night. Diana’s expression shifted slightly, revealing a hint of the girl she used to be, unpolished and genuine, unable to help showing all her emotions on her face. She looked…wounded but he must have looked very devastated because when he turned to face her fully, her expression slackened slightly and she did not argue. She only sighed and said, “I hope you won’t make yourself ill doing that. I’ll be in my old room, send for me straight away if you feel tired or unwell at all. I love you.” She said her ‘I love you’ like a plea, like she was near begging for his reassurance again. But Claude was simply not in the frame of mind to be declaring his love her even as it still ruled him. He simply nodded at her and looked back at you. Diana stayed still for a few seconds, he felt her eyes on him, felt that he’d hurt her in his denial. Then, she left the room swiftly.

A day later, his whole body hurt, he had not slept and his mind had gone numb. He could no longer consider very much of the future, he waded through the past. “I wonder…” he began in a tone loud enough to hear through the door. “Are you still out there?”

Felix entered the room. He’d been guarding your door since you returned home. He had not left or giving up the task to another knight for long enough to sleep. He had stood there obstinately without saying a word as if he’d never stopped being your knight. “You called for me, My Lord?” His voice was flat and very hardly concealing a certain amount of disdain.

“You searched for my- for the lady independently, if I understand correctly.”

“Indeed,” Felix answered simply.

“Diana and I owe you our gratitude for doing so, for not giving up on her so easily.”

“Oh, I could not abide you being in debt to me, Lord Claude. All that I did, I did for the lady’s sake alone.” A clear message in that, Claude’s lips almost curled into a bitter smile.

“Very good. You may rest now, the lady is in no further danger.”

“I’m afraid I would hardly be a knight if I were only devoted to looking after her when I felt there were further dangers imminent, My Lord.”

“What is it that you’re concerned about? I am at her side, a knight in my own right. I will not leave her.”

Felix only smiled, a hateful, spiteful smile. “Nor will I, My Lord. I hope you understand.”

Oh, Claude understood. Both the voices inside did, in their own manner. An odd similarity had struck between them, as close as they ever had been to being as one. “Very well,” He sighed, unduly frustrated. “You may return.” He did not even know why he’d desired for Felix to leave so much. Was it that he wanted, even if only once, to be the man who put himself aside for you? Was it that Felix’s very existence condemned his own, with his above dutiful knightly devotion to you contrasting the easy manner in which Claude had been willing to trade you for Diana? He felt guilt when he heard that it was Felix who’d found you, who’d never stopped looking and then an ounce of envy. He knew it was arrogant but if there was nothing else he could do to make up for what had been done, he wanted to be the one who rescued you.

It was a bitter pill to swallow, realizing there was no grand redemption for what had been done just as there was nothing that could ever fill the hole of your absence. He had left you to die as he wed the love of his life and made a very beloved child with her. He had taken your sacrifice into his hands easily and enjoyed a peaceful life because of it without even being able to imagine that you’d never get the same. His obliviousness to how you must have been seeing he and Diana, pushed you into thinking you needed to sacrifice for their sakes or else simply needed to escape a marriage to a man who loved your little sister. You were responsible for all that he had now. And what would he do if you never again opened your eyes? What would he do if you went to your grave thinking you meant so little to him that he’d not even done the smallest thing for you?

Fortunately, your condition had gotten slightly better by the next evening. You had brief bouts of consciousness after a long stretch of unresponsiveness. You had a fever and the doctor was doing all he could with his remedies to break it but it didn’t seem to be working. There was only so much that could be done with your body in such a condition. There was hardly anything that could be administered to you to rid you of any pain though the doctor mentioned there was a chance you weren’t feeling anything at all for you did not attempt to speak when you woke and slipped quite easily back out of consciousness. A prospect which was morbidly comforting. If you were to die, all the better for you to do so peacefully. But because the chance that you were indeed suffering from the high fever wreaking havoc on your body, he gently laid a cool cloth against your forehead.

Seconds later, your eyes opened, slowly blinking as your lips parted in an attempt to take air into your lungs more easily. He pulled his hand away as soon as he saw your eyes open, as if he’d been caught doing something unseemly. Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you returned to consciousness, your eyes bleary and hollow. You gazed at him as if seeing past him, as if seeing the figments of him that had failed you before. The cowardly part of him that lay hidden behind worthless flesh wanted simply to tell you that…well, he didn’t actually know what he should say if he were given the chance. At one time, he imagined he’d tell you he loved you but what use was his love to you anymore? In every life he had loved and in every life someone bled for it. What comfort could it possibly bring? As much comfort as a curse which grows into you with time. The constance of misfortune and the certainty that it would become both of you, that was his love.

It hardly mattered what he wanted to say anyway. His was not the voice that left his lips, it was mimicry from a force that had grown oddly similar to him in this life. “I remember the day they told me you’d run away…all this time, I have thought of that day.” He did not flinch at the words that came from his lips, for once; the fever had probably made you too delirious to understand him.

“Every moment I had to myself, I asked why you left. Diana told me you probably had somebody. But somehow I didn’t believe that, to my perspective, you really weren’t like that. So why? Why did you leave and why did I look for you even after…” He paused, finding himself so overly emotional talking to a woman that couldn’t even hear him, who was probably in a waking dream more than in her old bedroom with her old fiancé. He must be a stranger to her now. So why was he pouring out the things he would not even confess to his wife as if you were responsible? As if you could answer to the melancholy he already knew very well the source of. His two selves still had the obvious rift between them even as his greater self morphed more into a pale approximation of what his true self used to be. They were two jagged shards of a vase knocked from your dining table. This unearthly force that had taken him over, which had control over him still, was a creature yet unknown to him. He would do well to remember that much.

“Even now I am denied the reason why.” Even so, he had spent too many lives with the greater voice inside that ran thousands of thoughts through his very being not to feel as though he understood something about it when it spoke through him then. “When I should have rejoiced, when I should have been glad, always, always, it was you, like an ghost in my periphery.”

“Now you’re back and it feels like the end,” He spoke the words prophetically, it was the end. You were dipping back into unconsciousness again. “This isn’t the way I’m supposed to feel,” He said, tucking your blanket up to your chin, sending you off for what he felt would be the final time. He felt it, he knew it. His chest welled up with that feeling again, the dread he felt the day you’d run away. This time, he wondered what would happen if he stayed here in the version of reality he’d grown accustomed to. Would it free you if he stayed in the version of the world which had what the greater self sought to carry out? If he gave in to a will greater than his own?

At some point during the night, your fever broke and when it did, he found himself freed. His body delivered back to him at a very strange point this time. Never had there been a moment where you’d been alive that he’d also been able to speak freely. It felt like an anomaly, a shared fever dream or the view of earth from his first life the day before he met Diana. In any case, he didn’t feel very much about his own autonomy being returned to him, time enough to consider it later and the rest of his life to mourn. That morning, all he wanted to do was stay at your side, as himself through and through. He knew you were not on the same earthly plane as he was anymore even if you were not yet dead. You would not hear what he’d say, nor see what he’d do or feel his presence. Even so, he took your hand in his and he spoke.

“I have loved you for each and every one of our lives. I am sorry,” He drew in a breath. “Don’t forgive me. I will always be sorry. I am sorry for whatever this is, this part of myself so sharply cleaved out of me every time that I cannot stop killing you. I know it means nothing but I have never spoken it and I must. If this is not the real end, in our next life, kill me yourself. It must end. It must end with my blood, how long can we– how long can we suffer this way? There must be something, there must be something…” His speech, intended to be cathartic in some way, broke off and descended into inarticulate blubbering, his tears dripping onto your hand. He could speak no more then. Could stand the sound of his voice begging the empty air no longer.

He stayed at your side until the very end. Until he could no longer feel your pulse, the beats of your heart slow and faint. He could swear he felt the moment of your death as deeply as he felt the reach of this primordial thing that seemed to take more of him than he could have imagined there was with each life.

tags: @kage-tobiuo@kreishin @rosephantomhive@yeahdrarry@splaterparty0-0 @dear-dairiesss @qluvrv @hafsuhhh @eissaaaa @ayolk @doan-19 @fourcefulcupid@ariachaos@cerisearan@irisspade@yaesflorist@jcrml@xiaosprettygf@yevenly@amaris08atoshi012022 @obsessed-with-a-fictional-man @softbummiee@cassanderasblog @waka-babe @bananatwirl@s1mp69 @mitsuyamistress @hottiewifeyyyy @reiko69 @syyyy4ever @pinkpastel-l @dododododooosworld @gwyneveire @mvoonxlightv @noisyenthusiastface @gwyneveire

#claude x reader #wmmap x reader #claude de alger x reader #claude de alger obelia x reader

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rie-092 · 2 years

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Hi~ I really love your writing, you're one of the few people I know that write for manhwa character's. Anyway can I request for yandere Claude with an empress reader? you know a wife before he met her(I don't even want to say her name)

FREEDOM

❲ yandere! claude de alger obelia x empress! reader ❳

summary : claude was tired of losing the people that were important to him. he wants to be selfish for once, that's why he was willing to take away your freedom if it means you will stay with him.

tw : yandere behavior, unhealthy obsession, mentions of killing, infidelity (?), confinement, force feeding, cursing.

a political marriage. everyone in the empire knows that their new emperor and empress got married to each other because of a political reason. you and claude don't love each other. and you will never dream of loving him because love is an unnecessary thing for the royalties like the two of you.

and at the beginning, claude also doesn't care about you. you are just the person he chose to be the empress. nothing more, nothing less. but, of course, just like a normal romance story, his opinion of you will surely change.

and when did it change? it was the time when he was having his night walk inside the imperial palace. and he accidentally saw you, you who's swinging a sword. even though you were not smiling, he could easily tell that you were really happy.

it was the first time that he saw you like that. because the day of your wedding. your face was similar to his, cold and emotionless. after watching you for several minutes. claude finally decided to approach you.

and to be honest, you were surprised to see the emperor there. you tried to hide the sword away but before you could even do that, claude decided to stop you and told you to continue and ignore him.

and while watching you, claude's tiredness and fatigue disappeared. the sight of you swinging your sword was quite refreshing. because you look so free and happy. that's why he decided to ask you the question that has been bugging him since earlier.

“ did you escaped from your guards? ”

and because of his question, you accidentally let go of your sword. and after seeing your expression, claude realized that you indeed escaped from them. and you immediately asked him not to tell to your servants.

and claude agreed. saying that he will keep it a secret from others. as long as you allow him to watch you while practicing every day. and you happily agreed with his condition and gave him the sweetest smile that you had.

and claude was taken aback. at first, he thought that you were similar to him. but he was wrong, the two of you were the total opposite. and to be honest, claude likes it. he likes your carefree and cheerful attitude. and he likes the fact that you look so free despite of being forced on marrying someone like him.

claude was feeling an unfamiliar feeling inside of him. he was aware that it wasn't love. so what is it?

every time claude was tired of his work, he always find himself going to your palace to see you. and just by seeing your face, claude's tiredness will disappear. but at those times, the unfamiliar feeling inside him worsens.

and as a yandere, claude was surprisingly possessive when it comes to his wife. this guy won't hesitate to kill the people who will try to do something bad to his wife. or the people who try to talk bad about his empress.

and let's have a time skip, let's say that claude had finally met diana. and this guy thought that you'll gonna be jealous, but you didn't. instead, you congratulated him for finding a woman who will teach him about love. and remember that time still left a bitter taste on claude's mouth.

he wants you to be jealous. but he can't do anything if you didn't. since you were taught that love is an unnecessary thing. and to be honest he wanted to massacre the people who taught you that.

and fast forward to the day diana died, athy was born and the ruby palace massacre happened. after killing every person in the ruby palace. claude came to your palace, covered in blood.

and fuck, you were terrified after seeing how claude killed one of your servant in front of you. you were too terrified to the point that you can't speak and your hand was shaking because of fear.

but claude didn't care about that. instead, he held your face not caring about the blood on his hand and forcing you to look at him.

he needs you to know. he needs you to know that he's willing to kill everyone in the obelian empire once you leave him. he needs you to know that he had the power to massacre your family in front of you if you leave him. and he has no intentions of letting you go.

claude already lost diana and he doesn't want to lose you too. he knows how dangerous it is outside the imperial palace. that's why he needs to lock you up here. and this guy won't take a ‘no’ as an answer.

and if you ever tried to starve yourself to death. claude won't hesitate to shove that damn food onto your mouth. you are the only person in this damn world who keeps him sane. and he will not take the risk to lose you.

claude doesn't mind taking away your freedom. he doesn't mind being a monster, as long as he is your monster.

“ listen, i'm going to give you two choices either you start eating willingly or i'll force you. there's no way i'm letting you starve yourself to death. ”

#yandere manhwa x reader #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #manhwa x reader #yandere #yandere headcanons #yandere manhwa #who made me a princess #suddenly became a princess one day #claude de alger obelia #wmmap x reader #wmmap #claude de alger obelia x reader #tw : yandere behavior

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arsonlookers · 1 month

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If only

If only I confess to you first before ..... you realize you love her would I have a chance? If only I'd gone abroad and didn't meet you, would I have a better life out there? Would I find somebody to love me back? would I finally be loved? If only... I didn't love you...would I become happier? As I stare at you far away to be seen...is it even needed to be far when even if I was the most closest to you, you still chose her...see her... love her...

If only I dare to tell you how I feel If only I told you how beautiful and handsome you are when you stare at the horizon if only I told you how much I love your eyes If only I told you how much I love your hair How cute you are when you have that little smile if only I was there when you met her... so that I can prevent this... If only I accepted my feelings a lot sooner If only I persisted If only I didn't cherish this friendship If only I didn't become the 'closest friend' if only I becomes your first If only I become your lover If only... if only I didn't see you and feel this way for you if only I didn't find you interesting if only you weren't my type if only I didn't find you beautiful charming cold but lovely kind...

If only you had seen me the way you see her...

If only I was at that altar by your side wearing a white wedding gown, making my way to you, making you smile and cry at the same time.

Smiling at the most Powerful man crying being said to be the most cold-hearted person in the empire,

in front of me making my way by your side,

and be your bride.

but even these what-ifs come true...

tell me...

...Would you choose me over her?

...

do I have a chance over someone you clearly are destined to? do I have a chance against the plot you called Destiny? tell me... Do I?

"I guess not... "

With your eyes closed you imagine that it is you who he marries, who he loves, who he will spend his lifetime with.

"just a little bit... please.." you mumble to yourself not wanting to give up on this fantasy.

to give up on him.

Betrayed by the crowd cheering for the two newlyweds far from your hiding spot, the fantasy you oh so built for. gets crushed.

your lonely heart gets crushed as they cheer for the two. "congratulations" "wooohooowww" "congrats!" "wish u the best!" the whole place was filled with cheer and excitement.

You opened your eyes, wanting to see him one last time.

Out there he shines the brightest smile full of love and satisfaction... But that look is not yours... that smile was not for you.. he is not yours... not even a strand of hair.

Tears slip in your eyes as you watch from afar, watching your beloved be married and tied to another woman... You have no control, no power to ever change the fact that he loves her,

that you will be just his

'Closest Friend'

if only....

Hello! onlookers! A Good day where ever, when ever, whoever you are:> for this fic I was originally have thought about Regis floyen from "father I dont want to Be Married" when Regis inlove to Amelia and marries her not knowing that y/n his 'closes friend is in love with him... but then I have plenty of thoughts and characters in my mind that fits this fic.. so that is why i did not specific whoever the characters just the scene and how painful it is... for example claude and diana, childe and lumine,zhongli and guizhong, vanitas...ehem! and plenty more! That is why have the freedom to imagine the characters that you like! kind of dedicated to second leads...which is us hehe Anyway Thanks for reading and have a safe and lovely DAY!!

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qwumkas · 4 months

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︰✰ 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐃𝐄 𝐃𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐀 𝐌.𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ᝰ 𝙳𝚁𝙰𝙱𝙱𝙻𝙴𝚂 !

— coming soon...

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ᝰ 𝙷𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙲𝙰𝙽𝙾𝙽𝚂 !

— coming soon...

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ᝰ 𝙼𝚄𝙻𝚃𝙸-𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙿𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚂 !

— coming soon...

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ᝰ 𝙾𝙽𝙴-𝚂𝙷𝙾𝚃𝚂 !

— coming soon...

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ᝰ 𝚂𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙴𝚂 !

— coming soon...

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ᝰ 𝚃𝚆𝙾-𝚂𝙷𝙾𝚃𝚂 !

— coming soon...

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ᝰ 𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂 !

— coming soon...

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ᝰ 𝚂𝙲𝙴𝙽𝙰𝚁𝙸𝙾𝚂 !

— coming soon...

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ᝰ 𝙻𝙾𝚅𝙴 𝙻𝙴𝚃𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚂 !

— coming soon...

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ᝰ 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙿𝚃𝚂 !

— coming soon...

#‧₊ ⚰️˚⊹ navigation #claude de alger obelia masterlist #claude de alger obelia x reader #manhwa #manhwa x reader #x reader #wmmap claude #yandere #wmmap

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ragazza-whintigale · 2 years

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Hola! Me acabo de encontrar con tu blog, bueno estoy escribiéndote en español así que espero puedas entender algo. Si no, puedes traducir mi mensaje. Bueno, realmente me gusto tu yandere de princesa encantadora o en inglés who made me a princess, así que ¿puedes hacer un yandere platónico de claude x hija lector? Donde ella no quiera su atención y prefiere vivir en las sombras, pero el emperador no la deja hacer eso. Y como dije, si no entiendes mucho esta bien, lamento incomodar

𝔜𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔯𝔢 ℭ𝔩𝔞𝔲𝔡𝔢 𝔇𝔢 𝔄𝔩𝔤𝔢𝔯 𝔒𝔟𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔞 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯

𝔒𝔭𝔢𝔯𝔞 ➵ Who Made Me a Princess

𝔄𝔳𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔷𝔢 ➵ Comportamento Yandere, Relazioni platonica,

𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔬𝔩𝔢 ➵ 1437

Era quasi elettrizzante in un certo senso, far finta che quelle piccole stelle bianche, fossero solo un effetto ottico e qualche sorta di visione, alle guardie che ancora sospettose analizzavano le punte delle due dita per cercare qualche segno che avrebbe dimostrato la tua palese bugia. I bambini e le principesse non mentono, avevano detto prima di andarsene mentre tu te ne andavi trionfante e vicente tornavi dalla tua balia. Era sempre più stato facile ingannare quei soldati occasionali, ma ancora non avevi mai compreso la differenza tra i soldati di Élite e quelli semplici, non li avessi mai visti i primi. Potevi dedurre che erano riservati alla protezione delle imperatore, ma non sapevi se avessi potuto mentire anche a loro. Non ci avevi mai provato. Tutto questo agli occhi di un bambino normale, come ai tuoi, era come una favola, un gioco. Dovevi nascondere le tue capacità ai loro occhi, come avrebbero fatto le fate dei libri che ti leggeva la tua balia.

Ma non avevi mai preso tutto questo molto seriamente. Da questo dipendeva la tua tranquillità e la tua salvezza, eppure spesso ti capita di dimenticarlo. Anche quel giorno lo avevi fatto;

Era una bella giornata, era primavera e il sole forniva un calore quasi piacevole. Non suonava strano quel pensiero di provare qualche trucchetto all’aria aperta, troppo esposta per non essere notata, ma non c’era nessuno nei dintorni quindi non sarebbe stato male provare qualcosa. Qualcosa di semplice, non avrebbe dovuto attirare attenzioni indesiderate e poi era un punto abbastanza profondo della foresta. Nessuno avrebbe dovuto notarlo mentre i fiori iniziavano a crescere in quella porzione di terreno sotto le tue mani, abbaglianti e delicati. Nessuno, ripeto nessuno avrebbe dovuto notarlo,eppure l’imperatore era dietro di te.

❝ Chi sei?❞ Ti volti e il tuo sguardo si posa su di lui. Non ti aveva riconosciuto, se no non avrebbe chiesto chi fossi. Eppure le tue gambe tremavano come mai avevano fatto. Tutto ciò che era distinguibile nella tua mente era la paura di quello che avrebbe potuto farti, se non lo sapessi quei racconti gloriosi ti erano bastati. ❝ Lei è (nome), vostra figlia, sua altezza. ❞ Un altro cavaliere con i capelli rossi. Lui ti conosceva e tuo padre non sapeva neanche che esistessi.

Non era quello che ti aspettavi e ti sentivi a disagio. Quando avevi incontrato per la prima volta l’Imperatore avevi in qualche modo preparato la tua mente a qualsiasi tortura avrebbe potuto pensare per punirti, e non sapevi se meritavi di essere punita o meno ma ti eri preparata ugualemente. Quindi quando aveva chiesto a quel gentile cavaliere di riportarti al palazzo Rubino, ne eri rimasta sorpresa, e lo stesso quando aveva inviato un invito ufficiale per prendere un thè insieme a lui. Era ovvio non fossi preparata per tutto questo, eri stata ignorata fino a poco fa e ora, tutto ad un tratto, si comportava come se gli fosse sempre importato, come se non avessi passato la tua vita a nasconderti da lui. ❝ Mangia quello che vuoi.❞ Se non lo conoscessi diresti che era un ordine, e non lo facevi. Non avevi fame, però hai mangiato ugualmente. ❝ Com'è andata la tua giornata?❞ ❝ Stai Studiando? ❞ ❝ Sei sicura che di non voler venire a vivere al palazzo imperiale.❞ Di tutte le frasi che lui possa mai dirti, questa era quella che più di tutti temevi di rispondere. E sarebbe stato facile farlo se non fosse la domanda che ti veniva posta più di una volta. Non solo da lui, sarebbe bastato un sorriso carino e deviare discorso mostrando quanto potevi essere brava a far levitare un qualche oggetto o semplicemente far sbocciare quel fiore appassito che gli avevi regalato giorni prima. Ma se fosse stato Felix non saresti stata così fortunata. Non c’erano sorrisi innocenti, o frasi fuori contesto che avrebbero portato il cavaliere a non rimanere in quel argomento.

❝ Principessa, dovrebbe dare una possibilità a Sua Maestà- ❞ Non era disposta, ma avrebbe finto che ci avrebbe provato. ❝ -Si sta impegnando molto per recuperare il tempo con voi. ❞ Non ne sentivi la necessità, fin dal principio non avevi mai desiderato essere al centro delle sue attenzione. Era qualcosa di dannatamente pericoloso per te, e tutte quelle domestiche che si erano occupate di te fin dalla morte di tua madre. ❝ E ne sono grata. ❞ Hai detto tenendo la mano del cavaliere, e guardando altrove come se tutto quello che luccica attirasse la tua attenzione, come avrebbe dovuto fare una bambina. Felix sorrise, sembrava averti creduto e questo andava bene, almeno non avrebbe chiesto oltre come faceva solitamente.

Una di quelle cose che aveva cambiato la tua vita, se in meglio o in peggio non lo sapevi, era stata tua sorella. Una piccola bambina, viveva anche lei al palazzo Rubino, anche se non vi eravate mai incontrate. Una ribelle massa di biondi capelli e occhi gioiello, come quelli dell’imperatore, ma che tu non possedevi, ma non ti importava così tanto.

Era successo per caso, era entrata con impertinenza nella stanza mentre stavi pranzando con l'Imperatore, e semplicemente si era fermata a fare domande sull’uscio della porta rivolgendosi al biondo più anziano. Non avevi posto molte domande, ne avevi cercato risposte a domande non poste. ❝ Athanasia, Lei è tua sorella (Nome).❞ I vostri occhi si incontrarono per qualche minuto, dopo che Claude vi aveva brevemente presentate ❝ Spero andrete d’accordo.❞ Non ci tenevi a farlo, anzi speravi di non doverla più incontrare, il palazzo Rubino era abbastanza esteso da concedere entrambe una esistenza separata.

Ma se proprio avessi dovuto ammetterlo con sincerità, quella piccola principessa ti era entrata nel cuore. Un po’ per la situazione simile e un po’ per l'insistenza della tua sorellina avete iniziato ad andare d’accordo, non come lei avrebbe voluto, ma più vicine di quanto avresti pensato. Ed devi dire che è stato un ottimo modo per allontanarti dall’imperatore e non rimanerci insieme troppo a lungo, o semplicemente di non rimanere da sola con lui. Avresti sbattuto gli occhi e avrebbe chiamato anche Athanasia, avresti parlato di come sarebbe bello se anche lei potesse passeggiare insieme a te e all’imperatore, e semplicemente lui la mandava a chiamare. Era stato semplice le prime volte, poi aveva iniziato a diventare più difficile.

Ma non fu così, i cavalieri hanno ucciso tutte quelle donne, che per così tanto tempo ti avevano accudita e cresciuta. La loro vita scivolò dagli occhi lasciandoli opachi e vitrei. Eri inorridita, ma a lui non sembrava importare. Hai cercato con lo sguardo qualcuno che potesse fermare la pazzia di quell'Imperatore. Ne Felix ne Athanasia erano intervenuti, non eri sicura se quest’ultima sapesse di quello che stava succedendo. Era al Palazzo Smeraldo infondo come mai avrebbe potuto saperlo.

❝ Felix fai prendere le cose di (nome), e portale al palazzo imperiale. ❞ Volevi gridargli contro e dirgli che non lo avresti fatto, non eri sicura se ti fosse capitata la stessa sorte ma eri quasi certa di no. Non avrebbe mai posto fine alla tua vita quando c’erano modi migliori per ricordare il tuo posto. Felix si mosse, disciplinò i cavalieri verso le tue stanze, secondo gli ordini che gli erano stati dati, poi ti condusse al palazzo imperiale.

Lì non avresti avuto possibilità di fuggire o comportarti in modo cosi sconsiderato, ne lo avresti allontanato più in qualche modo.

#yandere x reader #yandere manhwa x reader #claude de alger obelia #yandere who made me a princess #who made me a princess #yandere wmmap #wmmap #wmmap claude #yandere claude x reader #yandere claude de alger obelia #yandere claude de alger obelia x reader #claude de alger obelia x reader

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temporaryrose200 · 6 months

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✩Just A Little Accident✩

✟pairing: Yan Claude X Fem Reader

✟genre: Yandere

✟warning: Yandere, mention of murder, reader being drugged.

✟one-short

✟fandom: Who Made Me A Princess

✟summary: After your maid spilled tea all over your lap, Claude knew she had gone…

✟a/n: This I meant to be a side story. Check out my other Yan Claude for this story to make sense if you haven’t. Also sorry I haven't been updated much but a lot has been going on. Going to try and update now.

Hissing in pain as the boiling liquid spilt all over your lap and in the process staining your dress. In the pain, you drop your cup and it landed on the soft glass, breaking its fall “I am so sorry my lady!” Annie your maid exclaimed, snatching up a nearby napkin and tried to remove the stain. Keyword, tried. All the maid was doing was making it worse.

Claude who was sat beside you, watching intensely, glaring dagger at the poor worker. The murderous glint in his diamond eyes sent chills down everyone including yours if you had noticed. You were much more occupied with Annie and the burning pain to even notice the emperor. Oh how Claude wanted to strangle that maid for putting her dirty hands on you, even worse hurt your fragile skin. The woman was a nuisance in the eyes of the emperor, a clumsy and idiotic person to be assigned to serve someone as graceful and perfect as you. The maid needed to go…

Placing a gloved hand over Annie’s hand, you gave the woman a reassuring smile. “If you keep rubbing it in like that, it’s just going to make it worse” you spoke softly. Eyes focusing on the large stain, you noticed how the woman began tearing up. Before you could get a single word out to calm her, apology after apology began spilling from her lips. She bowed her head in shame and her voice trembled. With a sigh, you stood up from your seat, placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and gently patted it. “I’m fine, calm yourself Annie,” You said, trying to soothe her, but she remained in her apologetic bow, her hands balled into fists and still trembling like leaf. “I’m going to just go change” you explained to the teary-eyed maid. Turning towards Claude you saw the murderous glare focused towards the maid and you felt something deep within you, telling, no yelling at you to stay. But of course, you didn’t listen. “I’ll only be 10 minutes” you timidly told the emperor. Eyes landed on you, the deathly glare that the emperor held had now vanished and had been replaced with a soft loving gaze. It made you sick.

Picking up your cream-coloured dress, you began walking towards the palace leaving poor Annie all alone with Claude. Diamond blue eyes watched you, his gaze not leaving your figure until you were out of sight. Now that his lover had gone, there’s no one to stop him for what he’s about to do next. Placing the half-empty tea cup on the garden table, Claude stood up with a dead expression. He towered over the quivering woman, who knew her life was soon about to end. The only witness to horrid scenes was a young guard, who just stood there watching.

Coming back with a freshly clean dress, you were about to open your mouth to tell Annie a funny story to cheer her up, but when you saw no sign of the maid, you were left confused. E/C eyes darted around the garden, searching for the missing maid. ‘Where is she?’ You question to yourself. “My dear, what seems to be the matter?” a familiar voice asked, pulling you out of your thoughts. Claude sat there, sipping away at his chamomile tea, he held this sickening smirk which was hidden under his cup. Stepping towards the garden table, you griped the top of your seat, feeling uneasy at the missing maid. You had an extremely bad feeling. You questioned to your fiancé to where your maid had gone off to, but there was silence after that. No excuse came from his lips.

It wasn't until you looked over at the other side of the table, a guard. He’s been here all along, maybe he might know! Opening your mouth, you stopped yourself as you finally noticed the frightened expression painted on the young guard’s face. The colour had drained from his face, his eyes widened with fear, his hand gripping tightly at the hilt of his sword, and his breathing unsteady. And that was all you needed to know and the whereabouts of Annie.

Your blood ran cold, you felt yourself shaking like a leaf. A million scenarios ran through your mind at what kind of horrible things Claude had done to her. Falling to the fall, hands covering your face, you sob. Not caring that you were ruining your makeup. The sound of the chair hitting the grass, signalled to you that Claude had gotten up from his seat. Feeling him wrap his strong arms around you, pulling you into a hug. You screamed, kicked and struggled for the blonde to let go of you, yelling insults left and right. “WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER, YOU BASTARD!? TELL ME!”

Out of nowhere, you felt a piece of cloth be placed over your mouth and noises quickly shutting you up. You breathed in the fumes, feeling your eyelids began closing on their own. To struggled to gain consciousness, but it was futile. The drug was too strong. Before slipping into unconscious you heard Claude’s voice echo in your mind. “You are mine understand. I will not let anyone hurt what is mine, only I can.”

Oh [Name], what did you do wrong to this story…

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dxmoness · 1 year

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SPEAK NOW | MULTI-MANHWA

note — for Jami once again. SURPRISE FIC!!!

characters — gallahan lombardi, claude de alger obelia, rezef hill, ijekiel alpheus

pronouns — she/her, this will be reader instead of Jami herself like the other two fics so hopefully it's enjoyable to everyone!

—“THE WATER'S ROUGH, BUT THIS LOVE IS OURS.”

→ G. LOMBARDI

Gallahan Lombardi had been the man she had wedded a year ago and until now he hadn't failed to make her feel loved. Always so positive Gallahan made sure she felt so good about everything she did. If Name felt bad, Gallahan was there to tell her otherwise. Now in all this negativity things got worse when she found herself in a heap of untruths planted by other nobles. Her mentally drained at it and she tried hiding it from her husband. "Name?" Gallahan's voice was gentle and sweet as her body was engulfed in a warm embrace. "Is something wrong?" He whispered kindly as his eyes gleam with concern for her. After all she hadn't been herself. She broke down in tears as she told him everything. "It's okay." he whispered, kissing her forehead. "You'll be okay." He smiles and then the day ended with her in his comforting arms.

—“THIS WAS THE VERY FIRST PAGE, NOT WHERE THE STORYLINE ENDS.”

→ C. DE ALGER OBELIA.

Claude de Alger Obelia was a cold hearted man. Especially after the death of his beloved Diana. But, this cold demeanor seemed to shrink when he met her. Name was just a maid that was captured from another nation. The people who had did the human trafficking behind her way here was arrested and she was brought to the Ruby Castle to be a maid there. But, days came by as a surprise to the young female as the emperor himself seemed to enjoy her company. He knew it was wrong, but who cares? He was emperor and no one was bossing him around thus they got close. But, one thing leads to another as Name falls for a man that wasn't him, which brings him in pain. At their wedding, he came forward. "I object to this !marriage." Words that brought the guests confusion and surprise. Even he didn't know where this was coming from, but he didn't want her to marry someone else. Name seems to brighten up as she walks towards him. An objection by the emperor made her feel something. "Why?" Her question was asked after they left the place of the wedding's display. "Because I love you, and I can't lose you now." His voice grew warm at least Name thought so as he leaned closer. His lips against hers.

— “DROP EVERYTHING NOW, MEET ME IN THE POURING RAIN.”

→ I. ALPHEUS

Name was the princess' sister. When Athanasia made her choice to be with Lucas, Name was there for Ijekiel. And let's just say he had fallen for her slowly. Her smiles and things she did to comfort him of his heartbreak. "Good morning, Ijekiel." Name says with a smile as she greets him warmly. "Good morning, Your Highness." He kisses her gloved hand delicately. His eyes meet hers, a certain emotion in them that she couldn't quite get. "Do you need anything?" She asks kindly. She asks this because he never comes unless she invited him. "I just...needed to hear your voice." His face flushed as Name just laughs, a good way of laughing. Her eyes gleam with delight as she hugs him. "Okay."

— “I HAD TIME MY LIFE FIGHTING DRAGONS WITH YOU!”

→ R. HILL

Rezef Hill didn't like anyone except his sister. This was extremely noticeable as he rejected every single match his father brought his way. But, he had a secret. He was in love with his sister's lady in waiting, Name. Every time he saw her, something unfamiliar comes to his feelings. It's as if she was driving him mad. He hid it very while in his cold expressions towards her, but it was hard even for him. With every move towards he felt less himself as he fought the feelings away. That was until Name got close to Raffaelo Kidrey, as how he sees it. He grew more determined to get her than ever as he practically made up excuses to see her face everyday. "Are you alright, Your Highness?" Name asks, confused as he called yet again for the second time today. His cheeks seemed tinted as he nods. "Okay then..."

tagging, @sxnful-sins / @sxnful-rage , @salvatvre , @orlic1a , @yevene , @roseadleyn

#— story of the stars · fics 📖#rezef hill #rezef hill x reader #claude de alger obelia #claude de alger obelia x reader #ijekiel alpheus #ijekiel x reader #gallahan lombardi x reader #gallahan lombardi

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lyomeii · 1 year

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can’t forget about you

-> warnings: yandere themes, death, reader has a son who is heir, canon diverge, reader is dead and much more.

-> request by anon! Hai! Can I request Claude de Alger Obelia who first love was also a beautiful dancer and had given birth to a son but passed away from being Poison, then a few years later Claude meet Diana who Claude started see reader in her? Diana, lily, Athanasia Reaction to find out? (Also sorry I kinda suck at explaining)

-> a/n: angst, love it. it been a while since I wrote something that didn’t have a good ending and you don’t how i enjoy writing this one.

-> every dreams of claude, you are there. not at his side like old times, rather you are far away from him, watching him from distant and every time claude walks towards you, you vanish from his eyes.

-> the sweet old times he married you, his first wife, and promised to lead a best future with you along side the little boy you had recently give birth to. he didn’t care about the throne, only about you and the boy he named cyrus , who has his blue eyes and your hair making him a cute baby.

-> for a time, there was happiness for the three of you. even though you two were quite young when having a baby boy. those times were full of peace and joyful moments until a sudden day.

-> you were killed. someone poisoned the tea cup you used on a common tea party with your cute son and husband. the amount of blood you spilled from your mouth was huge, the drops ruins claude’s vests and made cyrus cry out loud.

-> you died there, in front of the two people you treasure the most and yet, you look quite happy knowing that you had time to say goodbye to both of them.

-> that day ruined him almost completely and claude has few problems while trying to comfort cyrus about why mother isn’t coming back with them or why someone would hurt you. claude was a mixed of angry and depressing.

-> when anastasius died and the empire almost fall in disgrace, claude become the new emperor with his son at his side. both of them become even closer after you death, fearing that something would happen to them.

-> as cyrus grow older, he began notice how his father was truly is. a sad man who hide his true feelings beneath a smile whatever they are in the same place, so the boy question his father why not to find someone to make him happy again.

-> firstly, claude felt betrayed by his own son. how cyrus could speak like this, he literally told his father to move on from your death after years. the emperor knows that his son is right, so began look to met someone else.

-> he then met diana, the woman who made his heart sparkle full of love and in the end, cyrus looks happy to know his father moved on, well at least for a while.

-> when diana got pregnant, cyrus got be more joyful to know he is going to be an older brother, yet claude felt something wrong in his heart. something tell him that a bad event will occur soon.

-> and it does happen. diana die shortly after giving birth to a baby girl and claude was a mixed of strong emotions. he send the girl to life far away from the main palace in order to forget about diana and that made things worst.

-> cyrus was so angry at his father for it and screamed at his father how selfish he was and how you never love him if you knew what he did to athanasia. those little words made the man angry and sad at his own son, sending the boy away from the palace to the academy.

-> now he sit alone in the throne, too stupid to recognize his wrong actions and hold back his feelings about the the two women he loves.

@lyomeii stuff || don’t repost

#yandere headcanon #yandere imagine #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere male #yandere manhwa #manhwa x reader #claude x reader #yandere claude de alger obelia #claude de alger obelia x reader #claude de alger obelia x you #who made me a princess #who made me a princess x reader #yandere who made me a princess

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saint-siren · 27 days

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A World For Her Alone | Sisyphus

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16

cw (chapter specific): child neglect, very vaguely implied forced prostitution, death, abuse, poisoning, suicide, mentions of pregnancy and childbirth, arranged marriage, infidelity

pairing: claude x fem!reader

summary: we take a brief intermission from claude's suffering to examine what the fuck is wrong with reader's family

author's note: me and my husband we're sticking together🎵

Claude lingered around your parents’ manor like a ghost after you died. In the middle of the night, every night, he found his way to your bedroom, standing at the foot of the bed you’d died in, remembering the shape your body formed in the sheets. The room still smelled of your blood and sweat, though the room had been cleaned up by the maids as soon as your body was taken out of the room. Your absence was starker than your presence. After the funeral, Diana expressed that she wanted to go home, heavily implying she would leave if he came with her but Claude was no longer beholden to her wants. He had no reason to care whether she came or went.

He was wielding grief as the knife he held up to cut deeper into himself in hope that if he only suffered enough, his hands would wash clean of your blood. But in the end, he had already decided to live, if only because he could do nothing else. Morbid thoughts plagued him, swirling around his head like unquiet spirits begging him to give in. He thought perhaps he should cause his own ruination and this time, live with it. He thought he should make for certain that both of your houses are set aflame and collapsing on top of the lot of you, to bury and burn your sycophant parents, his helplessly selfish wife and even his own child. He thought that nothing should be spared from complicity. He knew not anymore if he truly believed that it would save you, or if this was what some divine terror was willing him to do even still, but he began to long for punishment. It became catharsis, the thought of being punished.

He roamed through the house you grew up in, searching for any trace of you that survived, as if some inkling of you would help him to save what had already been lost too many times. Even so, it was automatic for him at this point, no longer even really a choice. He had no direction, only frantic need pulling him toward the doomed task. He was trying to get to the dregs of a goblet of wine which never ran dry, he kept drinking until he was sick but never satisfied, never finished.

Your parents’ manor was an eerie place, he’d always thought. Wind blew in from an opened window in the hall and the house seemed to breathe, and its hollow bones creaked softly. Despite her gentle ultimatum, Diana could not actually follow up on it, she must have known that but she believed better of him at the time and thought that everywhere she went, he would follow her like a lovestruck teenager again. There were things to be done at manor that she could not neglect as its lady even if he chose to neglect his own duties. She had come into her own as a marchioness, no longer the shy and unassuming lady that lay in bed sick day in and day out. She would not leave the territory without management though he knew she desperately wanted him to come back home. She seemed dazed to return home without her husband for that purpose, for the lament of a sister she had infinitely more right to grieve so egregiously. Even after all those years, the silly girl was only just beginning to grow aware of the disparity of marriage.

Somehow he felt it was hard for her to reconcile that she wasn’t a precious young lady anymore. Even as he was mired in a pool of half catatonic grief, she dared ask him to leave with her because she truly expected he would do so if she did. Had she not grown out of the habit of expecting to be near worshiped no matter what that her parents instilled her? He remembered how she was after your funeral, when he was sitting in the dark of a guest room. She had come to him, tried to hold him, to kiss him; believing all this would be a comfort and not a further indignity. She’d had arrogance enough to look hurt as he pulled her from him and recoiled from her touch. She must have still believed she was the cure to all ills because she was once more in a house where she was always treated as though she truly were.

He found his way to the library where you’d spent much of your life, if Felix’s word was truth. He brushed his fingers along the spines of the books, looking for the one that he left his missive in, the one Diana read and did not want understand. He searched through the categories of books that contained subjects you three would have studied together as he could not remember which particular book it was, but even after pulling all the books and flipping through the pages, he couldn't find the letter. He wondered if you had ever even set eyes on it once before Diana got to. Had it been your catalyst to run away? Had you read the note and understood that the effort of trying to be happy at his side was a fool’s errand? Was he again the cause of your downfall?

As he gave himself to thought of you, he continued looking through your family’s collection of books. It was all fairly standard and even a bit utilitarian, lacking any of the fanciful novels so beloved by many young nobles. He assumed if there were any, they’d be in Diana’s room because they’d be bought for and read by her alone. But there was something that struck him as he roamed around the shelves, his eyes scanning aimlessly for a book that looked as if it had been perhaps been misshelved. It was subtly tucked into the highest shelf but it still stood out to him eventually among droll guides, needlework books and encyclopedias emblazon with gold lettering. It was hastily bound looking more like a journal and it was worn, unlike the rich and well maintained leather of the other books and it was small, leaving a wide gap between the top of the shelf and the top of the book. Its spine did not read a title.

When he pulled the book, he understood what it was. Its title read “The Princess and The Knight,” signifying it was some common, tawdry romance novella. Still, he began to read it, the absurdity of its place in a house so heavy and serious intriguing him. Could this book have belonged to you? Could it have been an escape for you who was locked firmly out of girlhood when you were only just betrothed? When he’d read the title, his mind flashed with the memory of your face as Felix’s body fell into the dirt in front of you. He remembered how fiercely Felix had protected you even in this life. The rage and grief in his voice when he came for retribution. Though he knew you were ever dutiful and if there was love between you and Felix, it was never more than courtly, maybe you had seen this book and it had reminded you of some place where it could be more.

The story revolved around the love affair of a princess from a bloodline with an affinity for magic fleeing her country at wartime and being assigned a knight from the neighboring kingdom she sought refuge in. The two began a passionate and sanguine love affair in secret, all while living under of the tension of war and the threat of both of them losing everything to their love. But when the war was won, thanks in part to the wits of the two characters, and peace spread over the kingdom, she and her knight were able to be wed and live happily ever after. He had been searching for you in the pages, interpreting the knight and the princess, looking for traces of a love you might have had once. He had been looking for you so closely in every word that he hadn’t realized the grander scale of things until the end; when he flipped over the last page to read the epilogue, on the blank side of the page he saw a sketch.

The drawing was finely, intricately done in ink and resembled…Diana. The owner of this book had drawn Diana so vividly, yet there were a few differences in the likenesses of the two. This woman had long spools of curly hair spilling over her shoulders and a mole near her gently smiling lips. She was older than Diana must have been when the book was written. She looked like the heroine that had been described in the novel. For some reason, he found himself fixated not in awe or admiration but in mind numbing shock. He could feel the love that went into each stroke of the pen and a knot formed in his stomach the longer he stared. It was uncanny in a house like this, to find anything that should mark vulnerability or simple folly. He recalled an occasion where your father had gifted her a portrait he’d made of her and their daughter. Though two different mediums, the style looked so similar. From what Claude saw, it seemed that your father seldom made art of anyone but Diana. Your father surely had not been so passionate about a throwaway romance that he had ignored his bias and poured so much love into an image of the heroine.

The only one who could be so brazen as to have a romance novel among his books wherein which they lovingly drew an almost intimate image of a woman, worn with the spine slightly bent from being handled so many times— not even properly hidden away, would be your father. Your father who paraded his illegitimate child, born from a mistress. The revelation gave him pause. What did Claude truly know about Diana? He couldn’t remember having ever asked her if she’d known her mother because she so resolutely accepted the countess as her only mother. But this woman sketched onto the page of a well loved romance, was this her mother? She looked as if she could be. Portraits of Diana hung in exposed parts of the house, he did not seem to care that the custom of having an illegitimate child was to have them separate from one’s “official” family, to not love a child born of one’s own lust so openly. Even if one had a particular love of their mistress and child, he would simply put them up in a nice mansion close enough for him to come and go but your father had your mother raising his illegitimate child. He celebrated her birthdays lavishly and even allowed her to go to the academy. He absolutely refused to hide her, to show shame in her. So why was this woman Claude presumed to be Diana’s mother who was clearly beloved by him even now, shut up in the back of a romance novella?

A thought occurred to him then, that perhaps the otherworldly force pulling him into Diana, entangling him in her was not otherworldly at all. Perhaps it had not originated in him alone as some primordial curse formed around him before there even was a him. He thought of just how besotted he was with Diana the first time he met her in each life, how the greater part of him felt foreign. He thought of your mother’s unusually devoted love for a child that wasn’t her’s, a product of her husband’s disloyalty. Something inside him thought that the answer lay at Diana’s feet. In her very blood, he was convinced, was the answer.

Such a tenderly written romance, signed with a carefully drawn illustration of the woman who could be Diana’s mother. The part of “The Princess and The Knight” which struck him so was the bit about the princess possessing capacity for magic. It was not mentioned much nor utilized greatly in the plot but it made an impression. Magic users had decreased over the years, their powers waning until they were unheard of entirely. To anyone else who read the novella, it must have given the story to a bit of fantasy but to Claude, it was almost uncanny. He could not take it for an unassuming romance. To him, the story hid some truth under its veneer, for it was no coincidence that the princess resembled Diana so and that it ended up under the same roof as her, worn with years of eager hands flipping back over the pages. The princess’ power was never described in detail but if she were based on a real woman, then perhaps she had something to do with his situation.

He might’ve gone to Diana right then for answers but he feared his body might be taken over again at any time. He did not want to see her, did not want to feel the familiar paralysis of affection reaching up through his body. He did not want to see himself bed her again while the memory stood frozen in his eyes. Each time he saw her after he’d been set free, he’d worried that it would happen again. That his body would betray his mind and he’d never find anything of substance to end the cycle of misery the two of you shared. And he was committed to the task of trying, even if he could never succeed. He was ready to succumb to the greater sense of careworn madness he found in you.

He decided to explore the unattended corners of your home further, thinking there would be— must be more. If ever Diana’s mother had lived here, someone left a trace that he intended to find. He might’ve asked your father directly but as much as he was a lickspittle, something told him that your father would be afflicted by the same paralysis of mind that he had when he belonged to Diana. Unable to share the love he held for her but unable to hide it either, culminating in a pathetic sort of half-baked defensiveness. He wasn’t likely to get anything out of that, even you hadn’t been able to get anything out of him when he was like that. Worse still, he might try to cover up all that he kept that ever indicated Diana’s mother had lived there once, that she had a name and a face. And then what?

No, it was better this way. Better to find it all before he got the chance to hide any of it.

Your parents were still in the house, seemingly without intention of asking him when he was going to leave but there was still a bit of anxiety in the air when they entered the room. He could tell that they very much wished for him to return to their daughter and make her happy again as she was destined to be. It was awkward that their son-in-law had a longer bereavement than your sister did. But still being the cowardly sycophants they were, they could not ask him to leave for her sake—only “encourage” him by tossing out little updates on Diana. “Diana and our grandchild miss you very much,” “Diana takes ill so easily when she works so hard, we should hope you’ll be well enough to go back to her soon,” “Diana sends her love and wants you to know she’s there for your sake.”

Claude wouldn’t care if Diana’s life hung by a thread and he was all that could spare her, frankly and he brushed off all responsibility in favor of giving himself to his task. It was shameless, he knew, but he’d given up everything inside of the barren, hollow shell of his self to save you. It was a task that had already and would yet again supersede death, birth and the enveloping void he fell backward into each time his life was ended. He waited until they inevitably visited Diana, likely to calm her worries with lukewarm supplications about his grief, to go searching in the other parts of the house uninhibited. For, even if the servants were to tell their lord and lady, he’d already have looked through every corner he intended before they’d have a chance to move things around to better hide them.

He started with Diana’s old room. When he walked in, he was surprised to find it was left exactly as childish as it had been when she was only a young miss. Just the scent of the air turned his stomach, heavy and cloying with a pungent smell of medicine that was still sitting on her night stand in a small white bottle. He frowned as something fell clumsily into place. It hit him like the stray sour note of a violin. He recognized the bottle. Where did he last see this bottle?

For how preoccupied he was with the revelation taking slow form, he did not realize that Felix had entered the room until he heard the distinctive sound of a sword unsheathed. He did not turn.

“Felix.”

“Lord Claude,” Felix acknowledged, his voice struggling to keep its softness. “I might’ve known you’d be here. You truly cannot help yourself, it’s like a sickness.”

“Yes, it is very much like that,” Claude agreed easily. “But I’m not here for what you imagine I am.”

“I’m not so sure it matters, my lord.” Felix’s voice was flat.

“Nor am I. But I need you to let me live just as long as it takes for me to make sense of this.”

Felix went quiet for a moment but nothing about the situation made Claude think it was because the knight was going to hesitate. On the contrary, he was sure that his sword would swing just as neatly. “Do you know where I found my lady chained up, my lord? There are places, you know, that they bring women who had no other place to turn. You must know. You were at her side every night when we brought her back, you saw what toll it took. You saw what had been done.” Felix took a shallow breath. “You’re asking me to spare you so that you can make sense of whatever it is your farce of a marriage is built on? When my lady was given no such pardon? I know you’re the head of your house now, honored knight of the crown and you must think yourself above your treatment of others but I assure you, this will be the last time you ever assume so.”

Claude held still, his voice firm even as fear raged through his body. It was not fear for his life or of Felix’s wrath, it was the fear of failing, yet again, to make any movement in saving you. “I know how you think of me, Felix. I know that I have failed my wife. I know that I deserve to die here and now but even so, I can’t.”

“That is no problem, I’ll do it for you.”

Claude smiled joylessly to himself at the devout knight’s words. How could you have been judged so harshly in that life for wanting to run away with him when he so clearly had a loyalty akin to love for you? “You don’t understand. You cannot possibly. But answer me this, do you know who Diana’s mother is?”

The question puzzled Felix but he stood resolutely, ready at any moment to fell Claude’s head. “Everyone else in this household has care for Lady Diana. My duty was to serve my lady, I was the only one and I did not ever lapse. You’re asking the wrong person.”

“Felix, I do not ask for my wife’s sake. I know how this will sound but I’m trying to find out just what exactly it is that Diana holds over me and everyone else. I’m trying to figure out what exactly she is. You have seen it, haven’t you? The disparity between how people treat my wife and how they treat your lady. Do you think it natural to love a daughter born from an affair more than one’s own?”

He heard Felix laugh bitterly. “You believe her to be a succubus? Is that your excuse?”

“No. I believe her to be something worse.” Claude laughed as well, though his was more hysterical than anything. “She rules everything, Felix. Even in death. No, especially so in death. I have lived this life many times. I have died and returned back to the day that I first met her at the tea party. And when I do, I am taken over by her. It feels like love at first, it really does. But then intrusion. And then a curse. It is a cycle of death and resurrection, for myself and for the lady.”

Felix was silent and Claude continued on. “In one such life, she ran away with you, you know. It was raining the night we found you two. You were holed up in some abandoned cottage out there in the countryside, the one with the patches of white clover in the yard and a missing shingle on the roof.”

“What are you saying?” Felix’s voice wavered with near disbelief at the picture he painted but he held firm.

“My knights killed you where you stood and took the lady back to my manor. Your betrothed visited her. She had asked to speak to the woman who had been responsible for your death. She told me you two had planned to get married once the lady and I were finally married and settled in. She could not even mourn you properly because you were compelled to run away with the lady and killed.”

It is clear that Felix still thought Claude had lost his mind but what shocked him was the truth seeded into his madness. How could he have known the intimate arrangements of their betrothal and marriage when even their families had not known the cause for delay? This was not knowledge he could send an errand boy to fetch him nor an illusion he couldn’t hope to keep up, this was lived. It was memory.

“What does that have to do with Diana?” Diana was more likely a seductress than a sorceress in Felix’s opinion. Such a thing as a time loop, how could a girl so weak and childish create something like it?

Claude turned slightly, slowly toward him. “I don’t know yet myself. That is what I seek to find out. So that I can perhaps end it, for the lady at least. I don’t need anything Felix, not Diana, not my child, not my house. All I need and want is for the lady to stop suffering. I only beg you not to hinder me. When the time comes, I swear I will die on my own.”

Felix had no idea what to make of it all. Much of what Claude said seemed stilted, frantic and half thought. Yet he could not help but feel there was a certain sincerity to be had even in the worthlessness of Claude’s promise. And in any case, he was not entirely unfamiliar with the concept that Claude explained but all that it implied, he was not ready to believe. He sheathed his sword again finally and Claude turned to face him with the medicine bottle in hand. “Have you any idea why this would be in Diana’s room? It’s medicine that the lady took before.”

Felix’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. “It’s used to treat severe infection. It’s not supposed to be used by just anyone who gets ill. Lady Diana should not have needed that medicine, it would take effect like poison if not administered to someone battling a harsh infection. The doctor sent one of the servants to fetch it in town.”

“Yes, but this bottle is dusty, it’s mostly emptied out and the liquid inside it has congealed. It’s been sitting here for years. The medicine inside is aromatic. It has a distinct smell, doesn’t it? The lady’s room still reeks of it even with the windows opened up. Every time I went into Diana’s room when we were young, I smelled it, I tasted it. That means she was not only taking medicine she did not need but taking it regularly.” Claude said aloud, more to himself than to Felix who had bristled at the way he implied he and Diana were. “Was she…ever even sick?”

“Of course she was. Perhaps madame gave her the wrong medicine. She would not have poisoned herself, far be it from me to defend her but she did not desire to be sick. She seemed to envy the lady for her health, as she saw it.”

“…it was the lady’s mother who administered this medicine?” Claude questioned as new pieces fell together in his mind.

“I only know that the madame came to Lady Diana before bed to give her medicine. I do not know that it was that medicine, I did not see it.” Felix paused. “What is the significance, my lord?” He asked, annoyance creeping into his tone at the extensive talk of Diana.

“I intend to find out.”

He had wished to creep into the madame’s bedroom quickly and easily but the door was locked so they’d needed to fetch the key. Claude was shocked at the amount of sway he had over the servants of a house he was not a part of for the head maid simply handed over the key when he asked for it, albeit hesitantly as though she thought she might be scolded for doing so. When he took in the room, it was tidy and rather plain by aristocracy standards. The room seemed to have a chill about it, there was a draft somewhere that made it feel colder than the other rooms.

He began to pick carefully through her things, looking in every corner of the room for anything hidden. It was all mundane, droll and typical until he reached the last drawer of a dresser that was locked. Sure enough, nine bottles of unopened medicine neatly lined into rows of three. When he tried to pull the drawer out all the way and see what more he could find, it was caught on something that had been pressed against the top. Claude reached in to feel for it and pulled down what looked to be a simple leather bound, worn and yellowing journal.

Immediately he began to read. He was a bit startled at himself when he realized that he was eager to read the contents of his mother-in-law’s mind. He wanted to know how she saw you. How she justified treating you the way she did to uplift a child that was not her’s. A pitiful part of him just wanted there to be reason. He wanted cause for the rift in the relationship. He needed to believe there was a because to your suffering.

But what he read was not as he suspected. In neat, small lettering on the first page, it chronicled her life back to when she had been perhaps 19 years old but it was dated some ten years later. A reflection on her younger self written seemingly less as a journal and more a memoir.

“The princess had always been so gracious a mistress that even her tasks sounded like gifts.

When it was her time to return to her duties in her own kingdom, she resigned to it with great grace. However, she understood that the opposite would be true of her beloved knight. This fragile man only smiled in her company, protected her with wild fervor and once told her that he felt divinely guided to her. That to him, she was the symbol of god’s forgiveness and in serving her, loving her, he saw his life’s purpose. Oh, the princess lamented to me how dark a life her knight had lived, how the blood he shed as a knight haunted him with guilt. How his father had been of a violent sort in his efforts to transform his only living child into a knight of some worth to bring more prestige to their house and in his efforts to vent his own turmoil over his wife taking up with men of far more money, status and legacy than he. Her knight resembled his mother and so became the target of the ire he could not give his wife for the great protection being a mistress to such men afforded her. His mother knew what his father did, she did not care so long as it were not her. My heart came to soften for him too, the more she told me.

He had been a quiet man, shy and quite unknowingly sweet for his reputation as a ruthlessly skilled knight. He opened up to my princess like a flower toward the sun. He loved her so madly that she knew even though it was inevitable, he never intended to be where he could not protect her and stand at her side. The princess feared that their duties as princess and heir to a county respectively would give way to the knight’s devotion. She feared he’d kill himself trying to reunite with her or simply deteriorate under the burden of his own isolation but her own life was dedicated to more than just one person. It was her nation, her home of people waiting to see her return that she could not abandon. So in her stead, she asked me to stay in the kingdom and marry him. To give him a countess and to keep watch of him for anything he might do to interfere in both their duties.

It was a great honor she had given me entrusting someone so precious to me and given me a title higher than that I had been born with, I still feel that way now but I was foolish then and I did not understand the nature of what I was being asked to do. Nor would I until after it was already done.

You see (and it does, still pain me to even write such a silly thing), I did, at the time believe that I would become close to my husband. I viewed it as a matter of course, for I was far from a home I could never return to and he had no one. We were, for each other, the last traces of the princess. Though I could never think to hope for the kind of love that he gave to the princess, I believed that commonality could be nurtured into love or kinship. I wished for someone to turn to as my heart was sinking faster than a stone the longer I spent from my home. I believed it would happen. I believed he would become someone to lean on.

Though the first months of our marriage were cold, I managed to coax him into trying to have children as was our duty. I saw this as progress both in the way of our relationship as well as keeping him from the princess. I viewed even our coldness then as a sign of something beginning. It was only once, afterward, I think he worked very hard so that I would not ask him to do it again. But even so, I found that I was with child soon. I was a stupid girl then, I believed a child was what we needed to grow closer. I brought this news to him with a smile, I must have looked like an idiot.

My husband’s expression, I can never forget it. He was horrified at this revelation. He looked at me as though I’d announced a death. He looked at me as though I had wounded him. Then his beautiful eyes sparkled with unshed tears and his expression reverted to a weak, helpless smile as he said all the right things in his wavering voice.

It was then that I realized he would never love me. He was horrified at having a child with me, it was sheer terror and dread on his face when I told him. Perhaps he thought that I would not become pregnant at all, he would have preferred it that way. I hadn’t the relationship with him to truly comfort him, to know intimately what he feared about my child. I was useless in that way.

Through the following months, my apprehension was near unbearable. I kept feeling my stomach sink in dread, I kept waking up thinking that I would be home. I kept thinking that I had done something irreparable but I could think of nothing which was actually within my control. Therefore, when I finally gave birth, my relief that it was done with was greater than my joy. But that was alright with me because I had intended to deal with things in my own way."

From there, she went on to describe her rigid attention to being a diligent countess for a few droll pages. But at last, Claude came to another thing of significance. Your father had been summoned to court for political matters regarding the civil unrest which had not been quelled with the end of the war. Your mother could not follow him and leave a newborn alone so she had no choice but to simply trust in your father. She would come to regret that.

"My princess appeared like a bolt out of the blue months later. She was dressed as a peasant and had a somewhat bashful smile on her lips. Although I had missed her, all that I could think in seeing her was, "She should not be here."

But we brought her to the study so that presumably, she would tell us why she had returned when she had surely sworn that she could not. She took off her cloak and then I understood without her needing to tell me. I saw a little bump on her otherwise thin body and I was overcome. When my husband had returned to court, he had not been officially permitted to see my princess but they had met anyway and she was now with child. She had waited until she was just about to start beginning to show in order to take leave from court on the pretense of recovering from illness at her villa in the countryside.

I had been given the task of minding him but I had clearly failed. I should have gone with him no matter what. I should have taken the chance and left my child so that I could have prevented this. But my princess looked at me as faultless and took my hands in hers to assure me that she regretted nothing. She comforted my husband who apparently also knew nothing about this pregnancy until then. She knew his fears like the back of her hand, she knew exactly how to soothe them as I hadn't. He did not even have to speak. She simply knew.

Until then, I had not known that my husband dreaded having children for fear they would be cursed and afflicted with the same moral decay that his own parents had; and because he feared that having a child would bring the same thing out of him. Even if I had known, the princess was the perfect one to comfort him. She asked him if he believed a child born of her could be wicked and of course, he said no. She spun such sugary images of their child together for him with her eyes shining with joy. She told him that their child was special, that she did not fear him becoming a parent like his own because their child would change everything about being a father for him. It surely helped that my princess was glowing as she said such things, that the excitement radiating off of her grew stronger with each passing moment. He could not deny her, could not bring himself to contradict her words because he would always believe in her even if he did not believe in himself.

It went unsaid that the princess would be entrusting the child to the both of us. I had much apprehension about taking care of two babies rather than one and the secrets to be kept piling up above me but I could not complain, it had been my job for years to make everything work. I could not stop then when my princess needed me most. In any case, her presence in the manor brought life to a place that had become so eerie to me. She was the only flame in the dark and we were huddled around her, trying to preserve an ounce of warmth within ourselves. She was joyful through her pregnancy, she could not stop talking about the baby she was to have. The more she chattered, the more excited I became too as though I had any right to be. This was true of my husband too, who tentatively felt the kicks of his child and smiled, genuinely smiled as the princess did. I could see that he loved that child.

She slept in the master bedroom with him, after he left each day, I went in to help her get ready for the day. It was though I was still her maid and I suppose I wanted to be, would rather be that than a wife. But I could not bring myself to complain. I was not unlike my husband, I viewed my duties to the princess as somewhat sacred. I was as honored as I was anxious to raise the child.

On the day Diana was born, my husband was at my princess' side the entire time, as though he could protect her as her knight again. I could only marvel at him. When I had given birth, he stood at the foot of the bed stiffly and asked me what I intended to name our daughter, if I was alright and then told me that if I needed anything to have the butler prepare it at once. After Diana was born, my princess was still beautiful, perhaps even more so in her vulnerability. She held the most beautiful baby I had ever seen, close to her chest as my husband looked down at the both of them with sheer joy. It was as though all the happiness in the world existed between those three. My Diana had been born out of love and so it was easy to love her.

I left my own daughter to the maids in favor of caring for Diana when the princess rested. Her little ruby eyes and her head of soft blonde hair captivated me. Each coo or cry had my focus in a fraction of a second.

I had not yet considered the greater implications of her birth until my princess brought it to me. Diana had been born with an inordinate affinity for magic. The princess, as a member of the royal family had the capacity of a mage, it was kept secret through the death of magic that through her bloodline were those capable of miracles. I only knew after years of my proximity to the princess. This child, born in the time of civil unrest, when the queen had not yet been blessed with a child and the civil war had still bitterly divided the houses, was capable of being seen as a potential figurehead that could be used as a pawn in a new round of rebellion.

It was for me and my husband to put her above all things. Above even our own child. That, to me, went without saying for I did love Diana as my own daughter. But the princess knew that anything could happen and she used all of the strength of her magic to cast a spell over her that would be held with Diana's own great magic. My princess nearly expended all her energy to do so. Magic, she had once told me, was seen as a weak form of power because it relied so greatly upon emotion. It was the transformation of want into will. I knew not the details of the spell which bound my mistress' daughter. All my princess said was that her precious Diana would live happily, that for all the odds against her, she still had odds in her favor."

Claude felt numb as he turned the pages. He was in shock, suddenly the environment of the room felt too harsh and stimulating but he was glued to the journal. He could not dare stop reading it no matter what truths arose. So he flipped the page and read every single entry even as his hands trembled.

From then on, it was Diana, Diana, Diana. With each entry, she recorded a measurement which he assumed was the amount of medicine administered and her symptoms. She fretted over whether it was right to give her more or to give her less. She wrote about denying Diana's requests to go outside, to go to the theatre, to do much of anything besides stay in bed. It chilled him to the bone but more than that, perplexed him. He was staring at a page where your mother had seemed to write sloppily, hurried and anxious when he heard a voice.

"Lord Claude?" It was your mother, standing in the doorway.

He looked slowly up at her, at a loss for words and unable to reconcile the cold mother she was to you with her joy at being Diana's proxy mother. Unable, still, to understand why she was poisoning the daughter she loved so much.

"My lord, you should not be in here," she said softly but in her blank expression, it was apparent that she knew what he was there for. "It will look strange to others, for you to do something like this."

"You poisoned Diana," He was keenly aware of how delicately she was trying to dance around this subject but he was unwilling to indulge her.

Your mother did not even blink. "You must understand me, Lord Claude. Please understand."

"What is there to understand? You neglect your own daughter and fawn over your husband's illegitimate daughter only to poison her."

Your mother shook her head slowly as if she could not believe what he was implying. "I love that girl," she said, moving deeper into the room and shutting the door behind her. "Diana is my little princess. She is my only daughter."

A rush of rage ran up his body, carrying an unbearable desire to hurt her. "She's not your daughter at all. She's the daughter of a woman far more beloved than you."

But your mother could only smile helplessly. "Yes, but even so, she is my daughter in heart. You must trust me when I say that Diana was hopeless before."

"Hopeless?" His brow furrowed and a cold feeling creeped up his back, extinguishing his fury and replacing it with a kind of fear for the woman in front of him. "She wasn't hopeless, she was able to wed me, to live happily." He said it not as a defense of her but as an accusation.

"That poor girl. In the first place, she already had a weak constitution, because her magic was stronger than her body but it was the perfect excuse to keep inside and away from the eyes of those who would want to hurt her. But it was my eldest daughter who kept planting false hope in her. She even sent Diana before my husband to beg him to let her go to the academy because she knew very well he could not say no to her." There was venom in her voice, a sneer on her face. Claude rose to stand slowly, not knowing what he was going to do.

"He cannot say no to Diana because he loves her so, no, he loves her mother so," she sighed. "All the other one did was cause troubles. Diana had already given up but she roused such hope in the girl, false hope, cruel hope. If she had not been able to marry you...I do not know how we would have protected her. If my daughter was still alive, everything would be ruined. It was you who saved her, my lord. That is why I beg of you, don't judge me. You know that Diana is special. You must know."

"I did not want to save her, she did not need to be saved."

She remained with that pitiful smile on her face. "My husband is weak to her. He will...he will never forgive what I've done to our- his little princess. He won't understand. He will think that I have killed my princess. You know, he almost sees them as one in the same." She reached onto her desk, picking up a letter opener. "Diana will be hurt if she knows. I ask that you let the girl live her life believing as I told her. She deserves that much. I let her believe what I did because it was in her best interest. Please take care of her."

Before he could react, your mother plunged the sharp end of the letter opener into her throat.

#claude x reader #wmmap x reader #claude de alger x reader #claude de alger obelia x reader #wmmap fanfic

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latimeria-fell-from-heaven · 1 year

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#𝗗!𝗟𝗙 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗥.

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cw. fem! reader, sub!reader, modern au!, established relationships, consensual somnophilia, marriage (zhongli & regis), slight degrading, dilfs, mentions of age difference, size kink/size difference, big cocks, cervix fucking, belly bulge, rough sex, kitchen sex, quickies, mating press, doggy style, breeding kink, pregnancy kink, cockwarming, blowjobs, deep throating, creampie, strength kink, sleepy sex, overstimulation, clit stimulation, squirting, pussy eating, fingering, biting, hickies, dry humping & office sex.

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dilf!zhongli who loves to kiss and suck on your puffy clit, fingers digging into the fat of your thighs. he's addicted to the taste of your slick arousal, drilling his tongue in and around your puffy folds like a starved man. each squeal and breathless moan of his name only further spurs him further until he has to pull away to breathe. streaks of your release is swiped with a finger, which his tongue swirls around fervently in desperation as he looks at you with such intensity that lulls you further into this sensual spell.

#𝗝𝗘𝗕𝗥𝗔𝗘𝗟。。。!

jebrael who's always having to finger your pussy bc he's just so big and thick and he's super worried abt hurting your pretty cunt. but even his fingers are thick, stretching out your tight little cunny nice and wide so you can take his fat dick without becoming a sobbing whiny mess. even if you plead and whine for him to stick it in already, he gently eases you into lying back down and insists that he properly stretch you out. he knows just how big and strong he is, and he doesn't want to accidentally hurt you and leaving your pussy achy n messy.

jebrael givin' you constant creampies inside your needy cunt over n over bc he just can't stop thinkin' about how pretty you'd look with your tummy all nice and swollen with his baby. he likes to watch the cute little bulge from his hung dick pop up and down your tummy bc he knows you can barely take his dick but still you do your absolute best to accommodate his length. a babbling crying mess beneath him, you take load after load of his creamy cum until his heavy balls are completely emptied. by then, he's sure that you'll surely become pregnant with his baby.

getting manhandled into positions that let you feel just how heavy n fat jebrael's cock really is bc you keep palming his crotch just out of jeht's view or purposefully bending over to expose those pretty panties that just barely hide your cunt. leg thrown over his big broad shoulder and fingers toying with your achy clit until you messily cream around him, but you're loving every second of it. you love it when he fucks you like a dumb little slut, pushing his fat dick deep inside your needy cunt and grinding up against all your sweet spots. and he knows it too, which is why he doesn't bother holding back as much as he used to before.

#𝗥𝗘𝗚𝗜𝗦 𝗔𝗗𝗥𝗜 𝗙𝗟𝗢𝗬𝗘𝗡。。。!

sweet sweet regis who always pampers and spoils you during each love-making session, lips trailing over every inch of your body that he can reach. he makes sure to kiss and suck each and every one of your sensitive spots, leaving your skin hot and tingling as he trails lower and lower. when he reaches your dripping cunt, say goodbye to whatever free time you have bc he's gonna be there for a while. calloused thumb rubbing circles against your swollen clit while his tongue flicks and scrapes inside your gooey walls, he'll make sure that you cum at least once before the two of you become one. but with how skilled he's gotten over time, it's a given that you'll probably end up squirting by the time your husband is satisfied.

regis who wakes up to sloppy blowjobs from his pretty little wife bc she was getting so desperately needy for his fat dick. taking his cock all the way down to the base makes your jaw ache and your lips burn, but you're just so desperate to have even the tiniest sliver of your dear husband's manhood inside you right now. your husband doesn't mind having this done to him, though he's always embarrassed about feeling your pretty lips wrap around something so obscenely dirty, no matter how many times you suck him off right before he has to get ready for work.

encouraging your husband to fuck you stupid and split you open on his fat dick until you're sobbing from the overstimulation. he's never done this sort of thing before, so by a few rounds in, he's effectively yet clumsily put you in a makeshift mating press that leaves you an achy n sobbing mess. each thrust grinds his cockhead up against your cervix, drawing obscene lewd moans from your kiss swollen lips as you clench up around the thick intrusion inside of you. you gush all over him multiple times, babbling his name stupidly until he spills his thick seed inside your needy cunt again n again.

#𝗖𝗟𝗔𝗨𝗗𝗘 𝗔𝗟𝗚𝗘𝗥 𝗗𝗘 𝗢𝗕𝗘𝗟𝗜𝗔。。。!

waking up to claude grinding up against you, arms holding you in place and his face buried in the crook of your neck. you can feel him lazily sucking on your neck, you can feel him stroking your skin in languid circles, but you don't feel him so much as making an attempt to even slide himself inside. so you have to be the one to free his dick from his boxers then push the thick head into your pussy. he doesn't even really move all that much, just sighs heavily and occasionally rolls his hips into the tight heat but he wants to relish the way your folds cling onto his dick n how you spasm and flutter around him.

claude likes decorating your pretty neck with hickies n bites that'll be visible for a few days at most when you're sitting on his lap, cock nice n snug in your fluttering walls. he loves how hot and bothered you get when he starts nipping n sucking on your collarbone, he loves how you spasm n tighten up around him bc it just feels so good with his lips so near your pulse. you just look so pretty with that dumb expression, eyes blurry n drool leaking from your lips as you whine for him to properly fuck you. he just gives you one of his signature smirks and continues sucking on your pretty neck.

despite already having two daughters, claude's always fuckin' you like he's trying to knock you up, stuffing your pussy with gooey n sticky loads of his cum until it's oozing out. even if you're sobbing n whining bc the overstimulation is beginning to hurt and you're becoming stupid from the pleasure, he doesn't relent, even pinching your swollen clit in between his slender fingers. a part of him wants to see your belly all nice n swollen bc of him, wants to feel that little bump underneath the tips of his fingers. it's one of the few times you'll ever see such a desperate and soft expression on his usual stony face, and it absolutely melts you.

#𝗬𝗢𝗢 𝗝𝗢𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗬𝗨𝗞。。。!

dilf!yoo joonghyuk who fucks you doggy style in your shared bed in the morning, big hands squeezing and pulling your hips all the back with each thrust. he sets a brutal fast pace, fat n heavy balls smacking against your slick folds as he grunts and groans heavily into your ear like some kind of beast. he makes you cream around his fat dick multiple times, calloused pad of his finger aggressively rubbing at your throbby clit until you're sobbing. since his kids will be waking up soon, he doesn't bother pulling out, preferring to stuff your pretty cunt full of his thick seed to how he sees fit. it's practically dripping out in thick sticky globs onto the sheets, which he'll scoop up and shove back in to your oversensitive cunny. he needs you to take all of him.

getting folded in half by dilf!yoo joonghyuk, knees pushed back to your shoulders as he fucks you into the mattress, chasing his own high and not caring how many times you cum around him. he's watching you every second, from the way you sob as you cream around him for the nth time and how a gooey ring of white encircles his cock every time he pounds down into you. he fucks you like you're his cumdump, pumping you full of his thick load again n again regardless of your whimpers that you're "too full." something in the back of his mind is itching to see you all stuffed full, thick globs dribbling out of your abused hole when he's finished.

dilf!yoo joonghyuk who gets a little too excited when you walk into the kitchen wearing one of his oversized shirts that swallow up your frame. he lifts you up by your thighs, your arms wrapped around his strong neck for support as he pummels into you onto the counter, lost in the feeling of your walls clamping and sucking onto him for dear life even after he's cum. when he hears the sounds of his kids thumping down the stairs, he's quick to pull his cock out from your tight walls and tuck it back into his baggy sweatpants, though the sudden emptiness leave you dazed n gasping with your pretty hole gaping bc he's just so big. he stuffs your twitching pussy full with his fingers, scooping up any cum about to escape your gaping hole and stuff it all back in. it's hard enough trying not to cream around his dick when he isn't moving, but the rough pads of his fingertips scraping against your gummy walls take every last bit of strength to not cum right there and then.

#𝗠Ł𝗬𝗡𝗔𝗥。。。!

dilf!młynar who practically rearranges your insides just to fit the entirety of his thick cock inside your sopping walls, even despite previous attempts to loosen you up. you're clinging onto him desperately, whining n sniveling so prettily as the tip rubs up against your cervix, toying with nerves that make your stomach feel weird. yet you keep whimpering for him to keep going, ignoring the fact that you look about ready to pass out and wanting more of his fat dick to pummel your tight walls. his dick is just that good; how could you possibly think of anything else but needing it inside of you right now?

suckin' off dilf!młynar when he buries his nose in the newspaper, brain utterly fried from dealing with the unimaginable stress from his job. peppering the thick head with soft kisses laving your tongue all over the sides then burying his thick length all the way down your throat. his deep n hoarse voice groans out your name, mumbling curses and sucking in breaths as you take more n more of his fat dick into your throat. he even starts ever so slightly bucking his hips up into the slick warmth, relishing in the feeling of all thoughts about work leaving his mind and the pleasure that you always do your best to provide for him. you make him cum just like that, and you eagerly swallow up all he has to give.

cockwarming dilf!młynar when you visit him in his overtime hours at the office, keeping his dick nice and warm in your gummy walls. suckin' in shaky breaths bc he's just so big and you swear you can feel the tip threatening to breach your womb every time you shift about on his lap. sometimes he just gets so stressed and annoyed from his workload that he starts snapping his hips up into the tight heat of your pussy, your slick staining his pants with wet squelches. don't even think about trying to run away, bc he's gonna have a hand on your tummy locking you down and taking his fat dick all the way to the hilt. when he cums inside, it'll stay plugged up inside your walls, at least until he finishes with his work and can properly fuck you like you deserve.

#𝗟𝗘𝗘。。。!

dilf!lee whose big hands traverse and grope you whenever you're riding him, reminding you just how much bigger he is. he may be an old man, as he says, but it's cute when fat tears stain your cheeks because he keeps twiddling your engorged clit. honestly he's such a big perv, always teasing you when you cream around his cock like he wasn't the one rolling your nipples between his calloused fingers and chuckling when your walls flutter around him.

dilf!lee who always makes a mess of your pussy when he cums inside, curved tip pressed right up against your cervix. but how can you blame him when you're always begging him to breed you full, to make your belly full with his cum. he's sure that it's just the pleasure getting to your head, but who is he to deny his sweetheart what she wants? though he's not sure that he can even knock you up in the first place, but hey, there's no harm in trying, right?

mornings where there is little paperwork and not many operations to be had are rare, but they're lee's favorite, nonetheless. he can spend the entire morning, maybe even the entire day if he's lucky, just sloppily fucking your pretty little cunny and filling you with his gooey release. it's as if he's trying to split you in half, big calloused hands rubbing at your tummy as he nuzzles into your neck. it'd be sweet if it weren't for when he bites the juncture of your neck a bit too hard.

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