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dollyyun · 6 days

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𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒍'𝒔 𝒌𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔' 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒚 | part one

SYNOPSIS: Final exams are approaching, and you have every intention to immerse yourself in studying for the next two weeks, but your best friends decide that it's a good idea to drag you out with them to attend an all-exclusive event called 'The Devil's Night' since it is Halloween week. Initially, you feel disgruntled and detested by such a social event, especially one that is hosted by specific delinquents, but eventually, you allow yourself to relax and enjoy the night. However, some the invited guests, including you, have no notion of what the devil's knights' goal is for this year's Halloween. From the moment you begrudgingly agreed to go to the event, you were fucked because you had no idea what truly awaited you ─ you had no idea how your life would take a drastic turn, especially when you had become their prey.

PAIRING: non!idols enha hyung line x fem!reader

GENRE: 18+ (mdni), semi-college au, adulthood, reverse harem, dark themes.

WARNINGS: fem!reader is a saint(good girl), mentions of christianity, dramas, profanities, degradation, slut-shaming, alcohol consumptions, groping, slapping, crying, sexual assault, explicit themes, one sex scene, voyeurism, coercion, blood, violence, murder, toxicity, perversion, corruption. (kindly alert me if there is anything missing out)

WORD COUNT: 18.8k

FEATURING: enha maknae line, txt, stray kids, zerobaseone, le sserafim, ive, aespa.

DISCLAIMER: this fic is inspired by devil's night series written by penelope douglas! also, i am not a Christian, and i didn't bother to do thorough research on the religion, so pardon any false facts or errors.

PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7

PLAYLIST: No Hands - Waka Flocka, Tonight - Big Bang, RUNRUNRUN - Dutch Melrose, Scream - Usher, Animals - Maroon 5, Disturbia - Rihanna, guilty conscience - Tate McRae.

TAGLIST: @aishigrey @kgneptun @b3tt7boop @smg-valeria @lhspeachie @enhaverse713586 @strxwbloody @firstclassjaylee @jwnghyuns @luminouskalopsia @deobitifull @loumin908 @sousydive @pinkkami @skzenhalove @caravm @shinrjj @loljaeyunz @star4rin @darkjongsung @mlywon

RUBY'S NOTE: part one is finally here! do let me know your thoughts on this as well, and i would like to apologise in advance if it doesn’t meet your expectations. nevertheless, enjoy reading!

🖤 SERIES MASTERLIST 🖤

Standing in front of a full-length mirror, your reflection stares at you with an abundant clarity of irresolution, mirroring the inner turmoil within you. Your eyes begin to scan your appearance from head to toe in incredulity. Never in your twenty-one years of life have you ever dressed as provocatively as you are now. Heck, you don’t even recognise yourself.

The white cami bodycon corset dress feels tight as it accentuates your curves and has a designated contrast lace bustier that levitates your breasts and displays your cleavage, while a portion of your torso is conspicuously visible through the translucent material. The length of the dress reaches so far above your thighs that when you attempt to bend down ninety degrees, your white lace underwear peeks under.

You're not the type to critique people for how they dress, and you have nothing against people who wear revealing clothes, but right now? You practically look like a slut. A slutty angel, at that.

Your nose automatically scrunches up at the licentious thought. This is definitely not what you had in mind when your best friends, slash roommates, decided to buy you a ‘costume’ that fit the theme that they had also chosen for you ─ an angel. It is definitely ironic how the theme they chose for you supposedly requires you to dress decently.

When your gaze finally settles on the silver cross pendant that rests delicately on your chest, guilt coils in your stomach, and your moment of prior incertitude manages to render you completely disheartened while your eyes turn crestfallen.

What were you thinking? You’re supposed to live up to the code as expected of you, including to avoid dressing indecently and act with grace. But here you are, all dolled up with excessive skin revealing, and you still refuse to recognise that the person staring back at you is indeed you.

If your parents were here to see you now, they would have chastised and disowned you for dressing the way you are now.

Your parents, particularly your mother, are quite religious and strictly abide by the rules and codes of Christianity. However, your parents’ love and devotion to the religion were something you truly adored. Growing up, your parents often brought you to the church along with them, and you recall getting so excited at the sight of the familiar divine building situated in your neighbouring area that you even rushed to greet the priest eagerly. Every member of the church recognised you, and they would always warmly welcome you and your family, especially when your parents were regulars.

You were loved by them. As a matter of fact, you’ve been called ‘angel’ by them because of your kind and sweet disposition, how helpful you were whenever someone asked you for assistance, how obedient you were whenever you were told to do something, and how you resonated with people by how naturally sympathetic you were.

Everyone used to tell your parents how blessed they were to have you as their daughter. Your parents agreed and often thanked the Lord for blessing them with a daughter like you. Not only did you follow your parents’ example in the religion, but you had also been bestowed with the gift of being naturally smart since you were young until now. Truly, you were blessed, and each morning when you woke up, you didn’t forget to thank the Lord.

However, as you take in your appearance once more, your guilt becomes tenfold while disappointment creeps up on you. How dare you have the audacity to wear the necklace your father bought for you when you are dressed like this? You shake your head, taking a step back. This is not you. You should have never agreed to this in the first place.

Furthermore, final exams are approaching, and you had every intention to immerse yourself in studying for the next two weeks, but your best friends decided that it was a good idea to drag you out with them to attend an all-exclusive event called 'The Devil's Night' since it is Halloween week.

Initially, you felt disgruntled and detested by such a social event, especially one that is hosted by specific delinquents, but upon relentless pursuit of being coaxed by your best friends, you eventually found yourself caving in. Besides, you can’t deny that there is a small part of you that has always wanted to experience a college party since you have never been to one.

However, just because you have never been to one doesn’t mean that you have no idea what a college party entails. You have seen firsthand what happened to your roommates right after they came back from parties or even clubs, and it certainly wasn’t anything pleasant. Nonetheless, you offered to help them by assisting them in holding up their hair while they retched in the toilet bowl and getting them to bed, despite the grimace on your face.

A knock pulls you out of your thoughts, and your eyes remain on the mirror while they trail to a familiar face from behind. She looks absolutely striking with her overall fit, which matches her theme, which is that she is a cowgirl.

“Hey, Yunjin.” You greet her rather weakly.

Yunjin, as enthusiastic as ever, offers you a smile, displaying her pearly teeth. “Hey, gorgeous. Are you ready to go?”

Usually, you would reciprocate, as her smiles are infectious, but this time, with the doubts lingering in your head, you remain crestfallen. “No. I don’t think I’m up for it anymore.” You murmur, your eyes lowering, and that is also when Yunjin’s smile drops as she finally notices how crestfallen you look.

You don’t lift your head up, even as you hear her footsteps from behind. You feel her hands on your bare shoulders, turning you around and tilting your chin up with her fingers. Your eyes reluctantly meet her hazel-hued ones, which are tinged with resolution.

“I know that you are having doubts about this, but trust me when I say that just because you’re attending a party and dressing up like this, gorgeously at that, does not make you unworthy or any lesser in the eyes of our religion.” Her voice comes out strong yet tinges with gentleness, which you can’t help but acquiesce to.

Hun Yunjin, otherwise known as Jennifer, has been your childhood best friend, albeit not enrolled in the same elementary and high schools. She is an international business major. You met her when you first started to attend Sunday services at your neighbouring church. You recall sitting next to her and randomly engaging in a conversation with her, despite the fact that you two were not supposed to drift off to your own mini-world. You thought you would never see her again, but the next Sunday service proved you wrong. From there, you and Yunjin formed a newfound friendship, and you declared that she was your church buddy. That remained constant until you two hit sixteen, and you didn’t see her as regularly as before.

Just like that, you lost contact with her, and subsequently, you began to wonder what went wrong and questioned your friendship with her, which you cherished dearly. Not many years later, when you first stepped foot in this university, you met Yunjin again, and miraculously, she turned out to be one of your assigned roommates. You assumed that she would not recognise you or even brush you off coldly, but you were overjoyed when she welcomed you with a bear-crushed hug and told you how much she had missed you.

The thought of asking her what truly happened years ago did come to your mind, but for some reason, you were afraid and apprehensive of the outcome, and more importantly, you didn’t want to lose her again. So you chose to play safe. But what matters most is that you have reunited with her.

In return, you muster a faint smile on your pink, glossed lips. “You always have a way with words.” You say before releasing a soft sigh. “Fine, I’m ready.”

Yunjin’s firm exterior cracks, and her red lips curl into a grin. “That’s my girl.”

“Girls! Are we ready to go─” A gasp pulls you away from Yunjin’s eyes, and when you look at a familiar figure standing by the door to your room, you become in awe of how alluring she looks with her theme, dressed up as a catwoman.

“You look amazing, Karina.” You compliment her earnestly. Genuinely, she knocks the breath out of you, and despite being roommates for three and a half years, her striking beauty often makes you question yourself about whether she is indeed real.

Truth be told, you didn’t get along with Karina in the first few semesters. As she’s a fashion design major, it was inevitable that such a mess was expected from her, but you didn’t expect for her mess to scatter to the shared living room. You’re particular about cleanliness, so you disapprove of your roommate being blatantly inconsiderate, especially when you and your other roommates have had to clean up her mess. You recall when Karina overheard you delivering your complaints to your other two roommates, and she confronted you. From then on, she began nitpicking you, and you often found yourself in a dispute with her. You got upset whenever she pointed out the fact that you were plain and boring.

Precisely two years ago, you found her alone in the living room, at three a.m., as she was drinking her heart out with tears streaming down her cheeks and her eyes red. You wanted to mind your own business as usual, but it didn’t sit right with you to leave your roommate alone to reel in despair, so you cautiously approached her, and surprisingly, she confided in you. That was when you got to know that she had been cheated on by her boyfriend.

You listened attentively to her, and you even offered comforting words to her in which she thanked you by giving you a hug before falling asleep on you. Of course, you had tucked her in to sleep on the couch with a pillow for her head to rest on and a blanket to give her body some warmth.

You swore that Karina would return to her usual self, but she took you by surprise once more when she started to become amiable towards you. From then on, you two developed a newfound sense of camaraderie.

“Says you! You look drop-dead gorgeous!” Karina exclaims, her red lips outstretched into a wide smile, while you detect sincerity in her tone. “I’m proud to declare that my taste in fashion is impeccable.”

“I agree.” Yunjin chimes, casting you a smirk while your cheeks flush in pink from their fond gazes on you. “Our girl looks like a literal angel. If I were gay, I would have hit you up long ago.”

Before you can say anything, a new yet familiar voice joins in the conversation. “I know I agreed for Y/N to join us, but after some thought about it, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Your eyes shift from Karina to the tall, raven-haired beauty next to her. Once again, you are captivated by her beauty and how truly stunning her overall fit is, in which her theme is a mermaid, and you are not exaggerating when you say that she looks like a literal mermaid goddess.

“Why do you think so, Wonyoung?” Yunjin asks with a frown.

Jang Wonyoung, one of the university’s it girls and the girl whom you can call your soul sister. You recall the first time you met her when she opened the door to your dorm. You were captivated by her doll-like beauty and were so stunned that you stammered your words when you reciprocated her warm greeting. Wonyoung is in the same major as you, journalism.

Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that the two of you are in the same major and in the same classes, but you found it peculiar how fast you got along well with her during your first week as freshmen. Nonetheless, you were grateful to have found a friend like her.

Although you are close with Yunjin and Karina, you can’t deny the fact that you feel more comfortable and at ease with Wonyoung. The two of you understand each other, even without words. Both of you are kindred spirits; whenever you feel down, it affects her just the same, and you two often share your victories together without any hidden jealousy or ill-feelings. There is this special connection you have to Wonyoung that is indescribable. Even your other friends often joke that the two of you are long-lost twin sisters.

Wonyoung’s eyes flicker to yours fleetingly, but it is enough for her to affirm her prior intuition before she returns her gaze to Karina and Yunjin. “I just have a bad feeling about Y/N going, okay? You guys do know that my intuition has never failed me.” She tells them firmly. “Besides, it’s an all-exclusive event for invited guests only.”

“So? We can easily sneak Y/N in since there will be tons of guests.” Karina shrugs her shoulders. “Their bouncers are kind of sloppy anyway. Remember when some of the uninvited students sneaked in last year and the years before that?”

“And what did that lead to?” Wonyoung counters firmly with a single eyebrow arched. This time, silence befalls Karina while you notice Yunjin’s grim expression.

“What happened?” You ask, finally speaking up. There is no denying how intrigued you are by the sudden yet discernible change in the air between your best friends.

“There is nothing that you need to concern yourself with.” Yunjin is quick to recover herself as she shoots you a charming grin while nudging her elbow against yours. “Come on. At this rate, we’ll be the last ones to arrive.”

“Maybe. But at least we’ll arrive fashionably late.” Karina mirrors Yunjin's grin.

You decide to push aside your curiosity and proceed to grab your phone while Karina and Yunjin have already made their way out of your room. After adjusting your wavy brunette locks in the mirror, you turn around to depart from your room. Your eyebrows jump when you see Wonyoung waiting for you just outside, and her face remains as serious as ever.

“Are you sure about this?” She asks you, and her voice has a touch of gentleness to it, which makes your eyes soften.

“Yes.” Although you sound sure, you can’t say the same for your churning stomach. Giving her a tight smile, you begin to loop your arm around hers. “If you’re too worried about me, rest assured that I won’t stray from you.”

“Good.” Wonyoung seems a tad satisfied with your statement. A small smile appears on her pink lips. “Maybe I am worrying about nothing. This is supposed to be your first ever Halloween party. We should be having fun! That is as long as we stick together.”

You smile wryly in return. She knows better than anyone that your idea of fun consists of rotting in bed and reading a few good books on a Friday night.

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When you first heard of Devil’s Night, you had an inkling that the event, let alone the name itself, was undoubtedly not good news.

Devil’s Night is an annual Halloween event that is hosted by the notorious fraternity of devil’s knights, but according to your best friends, the overall in-charge of Devil’s Night are the four leaders. However, you see them all the same ─ just a bunch of delinquents who love to flaunt and assert dominance over Crestview Meadows University everywhere they go.

Naturally, you expected the location of the event to be a frat member’s backyard, but as soon as Karina, who volunteered to drive the three of you to Devil’s Night, presses on the pedal gas and prompts her vehicle to move forward after the golden gates opened, your jaw goes slightly unhinging at the sight of a divine modernization palace.

As Karina continues to drive, searching for an empty spot to pull over on the massive asphalt where different vehicles are arrayed, you are busily getting enthralled by the captivating structures of fountains in the front yard. The movement of people making their way to the entrance of the grand palace captures your attention, and your eyes sparkle in amazement at the diversity in their costume designs.

As soon as Karina manages to pull over at an empty spot and turns off the ignition, you step out of her vehicle with your eyes remaining fixated on the divine palace. You swear that it is nearly as massive as your campus. You begin to wonder who resides in the palace, and if so, has Devil’s Night always been hosted here?

“Y/N, don’t forget your mask.” Wonyoung’s voice from behind pulls your attention away from the palace. When you look at the white domino mask in her grasp, you gladly retrieve it from her and attempt to wear it, but Wonyoung and even Yunjin insist on assisting you, doing so with care.

Your cheeks flush pink once more. Despite being the same age as them, your best friends and your other friends often baby you, including protecting you from anyone who has ill-intent towards you, especially from some of the frat members who have tried to approach you in the past. Of course, you feel much gratitude for your friends, and you are blessed to be surrounded by feminine love and support. There are moments where you do feel overwhelmed by them, but according to their words, your innocence is highlighted as crucial and needs to be protected. Hence, they often shelter you from the cruelty of reality and want you to remain the way you are.

Pure, and a literal saint.

“There!” Yunjin gives you a grin as she pats your cheek affectionately. “With your mask, it’ll be hard for anyone outside of our circle to recognise you.”

As the four of you begin to make your way to the entrance of the grand palace, with Wonyoung interlocking her arm around yours, your fingers make their ascent to touch your mask. Your best friends have agreed that, in order to sneak in seamlessly, you needed a mask to conceal half of your identity. They wouldn’t want to risk anything. A part of you wonders what would happen to the uninvited guests crashing into the event, but another part of you retains your curiosity before it gets the best of you.

At the moment, as the bunch of you walk past the bouncers standing by the entrance, you hold your breath while your heart pounds against your chest, but when they allow you in, you release a relieved yet shaky breath. You feel Wonyoung’s arm squeezing around you in reassurance, and you voluntarily relax every tension in your body, but your heart remains pounding. You can’t ignore the turmoil within you, uncertain of what the night will entail.

“You guys made it!” A high-pitch squeal diverts your attention from admiring the opulence of the palace’s interior to the familiar blonde, who is dressed up as Annabelle from the famous conjuring film, but she manages to pull off the look rather gorgeously instead of terrifying. Her eyes instantly meet yours, and her face beams with a widening smile. “You came!”

You don’t have time to process when she crashes into you, her arms latching around your figure and steadying you while chuckles elicit from you as you reciprocate her eager hug. “You’ve just seen me yesterday, Winter.”

Winter, who also majors in journalism, is a part of the inner circle and your friend. She is like a bolt of lightning. Despite her ebullient disposition, she can be fierce and intimidating when needed.

“Yeah, but we can’t believe that you’re actually here!” This time, another voice causes you to look at the sight, and at once, the rest of the inner circle has gathered around you, giving you hugs and gushing over your look.

In your line of sight are Kazuha, Chaewon, Liz, Rei, Giselle, and Ningning. Whereas Kazuha and Chaewon are majoring in arts and entertainment management, Liz, Rei, and Ningning are majoring in economics. Giselle, on the other hand, is in the same major as you. Despite the fact that all of them are highly regarded as the it girls of the university, not once have they ever left you out and made you feel an outcast, especially considering that most of the student body dislikes you for reasons you deem ridiculous.

So what if they hate you just because you are not from an esteemed, affluent family? You managed to pass an entrance exam with a perfect score, and you even earned yourself scholarships. Frankly speaking, you are not bothered by the fact that there are students who dislike you for your status ranking, because in the end, your GPA remains a perfect 4.0 and your professors favour you most. Plus, your future is all set.

“Okay, ladies, gather around." Yunjin announces, and the group of you huddle in a circle, with giggles and banter emanating from you and your friends. “While we’re here to have fun, we must never forget to keep Y/N in our sight at all times, especially since this is her first time attending Devil’s Night.”

“Hey, I’m not a kid. I can take care of myself.” You insert yourself strongly, but your demur goes unheard by them as they continue to quickly run through what to look out for, mainly because your safety is highly regarded by them.

“It’s for your own good, Y/N.” Wonyoung tells you softly after noticing the expression on your face as soon as they begin to disperse while you remain by her side, dragging you with her. Wonyoung and your other best friends seem to know their way around the palace, pushing their way through the bustling crowd.

“You girls really don’t have to worry about me.” You remain adamant while reluctantly allowing yourself to be dragged by Wonyoung. Your eyebrows furrow, and your lips form a small pout. “I know how and when to steer clear of trouble.”

“I know, but you have to understand that this is different.” Wonyoung asserts firmly, to which you can’t help but resign.

Still, you mutter, but audible enough for Karina and Yunjin to hear, “What is so different about a mere Halloween party?”

“It is different because each Halloween hosted by the devil’s knights differs from the previous Halloween.” Karina answers, and when you look into her eyes, uncertainty shines through. “Really, we can never predict what they have up their sleeves. But one thing that remains constant is the fact that Devil’s Night is not meant for any faint of heart.”

“Ironic, because here we are, dragging Y/N with us.” There is a certain bite in Wonyoung’s tone.

“Nothing is going to happen to Y/N as long as she is in our sight.” Yunjin reassures Wonyoung once more, and your attention drifts to the scenery before you.

It appears that you haven’t been paying attention to your surroundings earlier, and now you find yourself entering what looks like a club. Incredulity buzzes through you. You definitely did not expect that there would be a club inside the palace. As a matter of fact, the club looks lavish, with a B-stage right at the very front and a bustling crowd enjoying and dancing to the music that has obscene lyrics, which makes your face twist in a grimace. You have no idea how enormous the venue is, but you can’t deny the fact that you find it impressive, and there are even two separate bars on each side of the venue.

Yunjin grabs you by your forearm and drags you with her and Karina to head over to the bar while Wonyoung trails behind you. Thankfully, there are not many people by the bar, but even so, you become conscious of how you look as eyes latch onto your form.

“Am I showing too much skin?” You ask Yunjin in a whisper as you settle next to her, seated on a high stool.

Yunjin’s eyes scan all over you before she gives you a smirk. “Yeah, but don’t worry. You look absolutely stunning. It’s a shame that you’ve been gatekeeping your beautiful complexion and your curves all this time.”

“Agreed!” Karina chimes next to Yunjin, casting you a mirthful grin. “You should be flaunting your curves and proving to those fuckers who insulted you for the way you looked that underneath your layer of clothes is the body of a model!”

You dismiss the profanity that left Karina’s mouth, and your cheeks flush with embarrassment. “You girls flatter me too much.”

“It isn’t flattery when it is true.” Yunjin flags down one of the bartenders to give him her order before she looks back at you. “Do you want a non-alcoholic beverage?”

“Actually, I’d like to try an alcoholic cocktail.” Your statement surprises your best friends as they look at you with wide eyes, knowing that you have never drunk any alcoholic beverages. After all, you are practically a saint.

“Are you sure?” As always, Wonyoung’s worry for you is evident. “You might get tipsy after a few sips since you have never drunk one before.”

“Don’t discourage her, Wony.” Karina says with a disapproving frown on her lips. “If Y/N says she wants one, she will have one.”

“A tequila sunrise for the angel here.” Yunjin chirps to the bartender, and being a natural flirt, she winks at the guy who, in return, blushes but quickly proceeds to make all of your orders.

As the three of your best friends are engaged in a conversation, you decide to look over your shoulder with your body tilting to watch the ongoing performance from a live band. You can’t deny that the music seems to be getting to you, and seeing the partygoers dancing and having fun tempts you to join them.

Unknowingly, your lips curve into a small smile. Unbeknownst to you, a pair of eyes have been watching you closely with a sharp gaze just near the bar, where there are velvet couches arrayed.

“Here, Y/N.” Yunjin pushes the glass of cocktail towards you as you look down at the liquid, which is a vibrant blue.

Your fingers latch onto the stem of the glass, raising it just slightly while hesitation touches your tongue. Your best friends watch in anticipation, and you don’t want to disappoint them. So you bring the edge of the glass closer until your lips touch.

You tip your head towards the back as you begin to take sips of the liquid. Surprisingly, the taste isn’t as bad, and neither is it too strong. It is rather addictive, so you eagerly drink the rest of the content until there is nothing left.

“How’s your first drink?” Wonyoung asks as she examines you carefully.

Maybe it’s the alcohol that is starting to affect your system, but you feel oddly elated. You give your best friend a grin, with your dimples appearing on your cheeks. “I think I would like to have another.” Of course, Karina and Yunjin are more than eager to indulge you, while Wonyoung remains neutral.

Once again, unbeknownst to you, the same pair of eyes that have been watching you closely are enthralled by the new sight of you.

Seated leisurely on the velvet couch with his legs spread, his lips tip up in a smirk as he takes sips of his vodka while his eyes remain fixated on your enticing figure and your angelic features.

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You have no idea how things escalated. Just moments ago, you were having fun with your best friends by the bar, and even Wonyoung lowered her guards after seeing how genuinely carefree you looked. Now, you are among the bustling crowd. You lose sight of your best friends as you venture further. Instead of panicking, you find yourself enjoying it with your body instinctively moving to the infectious rhythm in which the DJ is currently playing Waka Flocka’s ‘No Hands’ as it reverberates throughout these walls.

Maybe it’s the alcohol in your system that has completely intoxicated you and renders you slightly tipsy, as evident by the way you emit giggles and how you’re dancing fluidly as though you are a natural at it, but not a single thought of regret appears in your mind.

Feeling a tad annoyed by your domino mask, you rashly remove it, not caring whether someone may or may not recognise you. Besides, the people in your vicinity seem too inebriated to care, as they dance and even make out lewdly in the open with their partners.

A part of you is berating you for losing yourself in the abysmal of this toxicity, but you shut down that part of you, giving into the whispers of the devils and succumbing to the addictive thrill by allowing yourself to flaunt your moves.

Unbeknownst to you, a pair of eyes have been watching you as he gradually makes his way to you despite the bustling crowd, and the moment they see him, they part and make way for him. The way you move got him in a trance, especially with each sway from your body. Your curves, which your skimpy dress accentuated, entice him to place his hands all over you.

Your giggles sound melodious to his ears as soon as he nearly reaches you from behind. His eyes darken with each passing second as your body sways with fluidity, and your back is arched with your head tilted up, immersing yourself in the music while a sultry smile smears across your glossed lips.

Fuck, he has no idea there is a side to you where he gets undoubtedly turned on by. Flashes of images of you being fucked relentlessly by him appear in his mind as he fantasises, and how he can already imagine your insatiable taste probably won’t satisfy him unless he has you locked in his possession.

Without thinking twice, he places both hands on your waist from behind, his fingers tingling with the sensation of your warmth. Instead of feeling alarmed, you remain relaxed and loose, dancing along to the supposedly stranger behind you.

You allow him to pull you closer until your buttcheek hits his hardness, causing your breath to hitch in your throat, yet you don’t stop dancing. You accidentally grind yourself against him, eliciting a low groan from him with his hot breath fanning the shell of your earlobe while his strong arms snake around your waist.

In your delirium, you tilt your head up and lean on his shoulder lazily, allowing him to guide your movements. His strong cologne is intoxicating as it infiltrates your senses. You hear his low, ragged breaths next to your ear before you feel him dipping his head to the curve of your neck, his nose burying in your skin as he inhales your sweet scent that he has engraved in his mind.

A soft gasp leaves your lips when you feel his warm lips touch your skin before he proceeds to kiss your neck sensually. You should be pushing this stranger away, but instead, you allow yourself to fall weak and succumb to the allure of his kisses on your neck. You blame it entirely on the alcohol.

“You taste exquisite, love.” You hear him murmur those words, or you assume he murmurs those words, since the music is overpowering. But you swear you recognise his voice. You feel his arms tighten around you, while the way he nips at your skin startles you.

In a blink of an eye, he spins you around, his hands remaining on your waist. The entire place is dim, but the LED red and purple lights allow you to catch a glimpse of his face. Recognition glimmers in your eyes.

“Jake.” You utter his name in a daze while your eyes begin to shamelessly scan his overall fit. You hate to admit it, but he nearly got you foaming in the mouth.

He looks extremely good in all denims with his chain necklace hooked around his neck, and his long raven strands have been styled impeccably, tempting you to run your fingers through them. Your eyes catch a sight of an inked tattoo on his collarbone area peeking due to his loose white tee that hangs a little low.

You don’t make any protests as you remain numb in his possession. Everything feels muddled in your mind, but you are conscious enough to continue dancing with him with a hint of sensualness.

Jake unfurls a soft smirk on his pink plump lips while he blatantly checks you out, appreciation and lust dancing in his handsome gaze. “I didn’t expect to see you here, Y/N.”

“Yeah? Surprised?” You feel oddly breathless, and you have no idea whether it’s from the dancing or the palpable tension between the two of you.

Jake hums attractively, his fingers tapping sensually on your waist to the beat of the ongoing music, and when you finally notice his gaze that settles on your cleavage, heat weaves across your cheeks.

“A lovely surprise at that.” Jake says in a murmur, dipping his head and leaning towards you while your pulses go erratic in anticipation, but he stops right next to your ear. The tip of his nose grazes lightly on your earlobe, sending you involuntary shivers down your spine. “But you shouldn’t have come here.” As he whispers lowly in your ear, you detect a hint of darkness in his tone.

“Why? Because I’m an uninvited guest?” You ask breathlessly, hating and loving how his intoxicating cologne tempts you to bury your nose into his chest.

Your breath hitches in your throat when he presses a deep, sensual kiss on your cheek before withdrawing from you to get a good look at your face. Upon seeing how dazed you truly look, he smirks once more and squeezes his hands on the flesh of your hips. “Cute.” He mumbles. His eyes flicker down to your glossed lips, which entice him to kiss you, but he holds himself back.

“You should leave while you still can, love.” He mutters, reluctantly releasing you from his possession and already yearning for your warmth.

“Y/N!” You hear voices that belong to your best friends calling for you from behind. You look over your shoulder just in time to catch glimpses of their faces amongst the dancing crowd.

When you turn back, Jake is nowhere in your line of sight, bringing a confused frown to your lips. Even as he has mysteriously disappeared, your skin remains tingling with the sensation of his lips and hands. Your mind is in a muddle, infused with the intoxication of the alcohol and his strong cologne that you will definitely remember.

“We’ve been trying to search for you everywhere!” Wonyoung exclaims, giving you no time to process when she lunges for a tight hug. She releases a relief sigh before pulling away and examining you. “Thank God you’re okay. But why are you not wearing your mask?” She asks, looking alarmed.

“I throw it elsewhere. I don’t know.” You mutter, blinking your eyes as you feel lightheaded. “Don’t worry. I’m not afraid of being recognised. They’re all preoccupied with partying and dancing anyway.” You provide some assurance to Wonyoung, while Karina and Yunjin seem relaxed.

“Let’s go. We can’t miss the second rave.” Karina tugs at your wrist, dragging you with her gingerly and guiding you through the crowd.

“Rave?” You ponder out loud, and your eyes dart between Yunjin and Wonyoung.

In response, Yunjin gives you a Cheshire smile. “Trust me. You are going to love it.”

“By the way, who were you dancing with?” Karina inquires as she busily guides you to a place, which you presume to be the backyard, while there are other guests along with your group heading to the same place.

“No one.” You answer curtly, giving her a tight smile. “I had fun dancing alone.”

You know better than to inform your friends that you were dancing intimately with Jake Sim, or else you’ll receive an earful from them, considering they detest the knight members. They even reminded you to stay away from any of the knight members, particularly the four leaders.

As soon as the thought of the four devil’s knights’ leaders comes to your mind, your eyes widen in dreadful realisation while your heart nearly lurches in your chest. Since you were too busy getting caught up in the heat of the moment, you failed to realise that Jake is one of the leaders, the one who had you in his possession with a scintilla of danger emanating from him.

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The rowdy commotion from the partygoers sounds faint with each step he takes towards the meeting room on the second floor. Jake, who was previously in denims, has changed into practical attire for the upcoming section of the main event. He busily zips up his black bomber jacket while his face remains devoid of emotion, but his mind occasionally drifts off to you.

How tempted he was to snatch you away from the scenery and bring you to one of the rooms with the intention of giving you the best fuck of your life as well as leaving you with his marks on your porcelain skin. He quickly shakes away the thought of you, not wanting to get hard again, as it’ll only be a bother since he is already running late for the briefing.

Stopping in front of the door that is made out of steel, he punches the code onto the padlock keys before the door automatically opens. The familiar sight of a fairly lengthy corridor with separate entrances arrayed on each side of the walls greets him as he steps inside. Hearing the door behind him close with a thud, he begins to make his way to the meeting room, where multitudes of voices are teeming in the cold atmosphere as it gets louder.

Without announcing his arrival, he saunters into the massive meeting room with his hands tucked inside his pockets while his face remains neutral, ignoring the rest of the knight members of the lower rank as they are settled in their respective houses.

The devil’s knights fraternity consists of four houses─ North, South, East, and West.

Each house has its own respective leader. However, their goals are aligned. This has always been the system, as each year there are numerous new recruits, and they do have to dominate their respective territories on campus and even on the streets in town. Almost everyone is knowledgeable about and conscious of the renowned devil's knights. Crestview Meadows University favours the devil's knights fervently, especially considering the fraternity was founded many years ago by four particular individuals who are now affluent figures.

“There he is. The star of the night.” A snarky remark is made by one of the leaders, also known as Park Sunghoon. Jake’s gaze lands on him as he continues to saunter forward until he reaches the table where the other leaders are gathered as well.

“Spare me your sarcasm, Hoon.” Jake says in a monotone, throwing himself onto the swivel chair and making himself comfortable.

“You’re late.” Sunghoon shoots him a scowl as he is seated on the table. The table itself is scattered with a variety of knives.

“He was probably fucking around with the freshies. Can’t even keep up his pants for a minute.” This time, another voice makes a remark, prompting Jake to look at his fellow leader slash best friend. Jay Park.

Jake narrows his eyes at Jay’s smirk. “You’re lucky I'm in the mood to play nice.”

“Enough.” A firm voice is resonating enough for the other knight members in the room to quieten the volume of their chatter. Jake, Jay, and Sunghoon shift their attention to the figure seated by the window sill with his arms crossed over his chest, also known as Lee Heeseung.

Heeseung remains unmoving, but his gaze alone is enough to assert dominance over them, especially since he is the oldest out of the four of them by one year. “Now that everyone is here, we may begin our briefing. For those of you who were on bouncers’ duties, how many uninvited attendees were there?”

All of the knight members would usually gather in this meeting room for briefings and other important matters pertaining to the annual devil’s night planning, et cetera. However, there are some rooms that are restricted to them unless they are the leaders. Furthermore, this very palace is officially owned by the four devil’s knight leaders, considering that their fathers were the founders of the devil’s knights. As a matter of fact, this palace was previously owned by the same founders, but as many years passed and their sons followed in their footsteps in joining the renowned fraternity, the founders collectively agreed to bequeath the palace to their sons.

North: Jake

South: Heeseung

East: Sunghoon

West: Jay

These four delinquents have successfully led their respective houses for the past years with their skills, and they were impressively the youngest leaders to have been appointed when they were just freshmen. Though they have different personalities, they get along well, considering that their fathers are best friends as well.

“Approximately twenty.” One of the low-ranking members takes the initiative to answer, a sophomore, and he is from the West House.

However, his answer raises an eyebrow from his leader. The sophomore flinches at the way Jay directs his sharp gaze, which is penetrating enough. “Approximately?” Jay’s cold voice affects everyone except the other leaders.

“He meant to say that there are twenty-three uninvited attendees!” Another sophomore from the West House steps in to assist the other sophomore, who is shaking in his boots.

Before anyone can speak up, one of the windows swings open, allowing the gust of wind to enter. The four leaders watch, completely unfazed, as a familiar figure wholly in black, layered clothing emerges, climbing into the meeting room, followed by two figures.

The three of them stand tall in their line of sight as they remove their designated masks, now revealing their faces. Jake is the first person to greet the three of them with a lopsided grin. They are Devil’s Knights’ honorary members who are juniors and appointed to be leaders next year once the four current leaders graduate from university. Sunoo, Jungwon, and Riki.

“The kid’s right.” Sunoo says, placing his mask down on the table. “There are a total of twenty-three uninvited attendees.”

“That’s a long list of people to hunt down compared to last year’s.” Riki’s deep voice echoes in the room, while his tall figure is intimidating enough for the other lower-ranking members.

“The more, the merrier.” A Cheshire grin smears across Jungwon’s lips while a familiar bloodlust gleamers in his eyes. “Oh, we’ve already covered all the perimeters. Yeonjun, Beomgyu, Felix, and Jeongin are on standby.”

“Good.” Heeseung nods his head firmly, feeling satisfied with how competent their future leaders are. Heeseung’s eyes glide across the fraternity present in the room. “All of you know what to do. Remember to only hunt down whoever’s name you were given, and most importantly, Namgil and his crew will meet their demise tonight.”

“Ah, Kim Namgil.” Sunghoon smirks, a wicked intent can be seen glinting in his eyes at the mention of the ex-member. “I can’t wait to crush that fucker’s skull.”

Jay scoffs out a deadly chuckle, his veins are brimming with vengeance. “Not until I get to him first.”

“Patience. We’ll be sticking strictly to the plan.” Heeseung tells them sternly before looking back at the rest of the fraternity. “Remember that our goal is to wreak havoc and terror, including mayhem. For those of you who are new recruits and this is your first Devil’s Night, you do not need to worry about the law enforcement, as they’ll only be here with the sole purpose of establishing the roadblocks to prevent our guests from escaping until Devil’s Night is over.”

To add on, Devil’s Night is a tradition that has been going on since their founders’ times and happens every Halloween. This tradition is also supported and endorsed by the mayor of Seoul and other influential figures that are highly regarded in the eyes of the government. There is no denying that by permitting Devil’s Night to be lawful on every Halloween, it proves that the government and its system have long since been corrupted.

“In short, you may also do what you please for the next twelve hours.” Jake grins deviously with his hands clasped together. “In other words, unleash your inner devils.”

At once, an uproar emanates from the fraternity before Jay begins to dismiss them. “Don’t forget your masks and weapons!” He reminds them as they proceed to make their way out of the meeting room rowdily, leaving the four leaders and the future three leaders alone in the room.

“There is another important thing you guys should know.” Sunoo speaks up, drawing their attention. Interest sparkles in Sunoo’s eyes. “Y/N is one of the uninvited attendees.”

“Y/N?” Sunghoon scoffs out in disbelief, refusing to take Sunoo’s words seriously. “You should really work on your humour if you plan to impress us.”

“Do I look like I’m laughing?” Sunoo deadpans before he motions to Riki and Jungwon. “Ask them if you still refuse to believe me. They saw her at the second rave.”

“Yup.” Jungwon toys around with one of the knives in his grasp leisurely while a smirk paints his canvas. “She looks pretty, though. It’s a shame to lose a pretty face like hers.”

“Her name is not in any of the lists.” Riki points out. “So who shall be hunting her?”

“Can I?” Sunoo asks with a glimmer of hope in his eyes. “I’ve always wanted to scare her.”

“No.” Jake takes everyone by surprise as he nearly growls out. His eyes darkened at the thought of you. “No one touches her. No one except me.”

“Since when did you get to decide on this alone?” Jay raises a single eyebrow at his best friend. “To make it more interesting and thrilling, I say the four of us hunt her down.”

“And kill her afterwards?” Sunghoon’s face twists in a grimace. “Don’t get me wrong. It won’t affect me if we kill her, but I don’t want those pesky friends of hers to hunt my ass down.”

“What about you, Heeseung?” Jay asks as all heads turn to the silent male, who appears in deep thought. “How are we going to decide on what to do with Y/N? Rules are still rules. Uninvited attendees shall not make it out alive on Devil’s Night.”

“We hunt her down as well.” Heeseung states calmly. “But don’t kill her yet. We’ll decide what to do with her once we hunt her down.”

“Then we’ll make our way to our respective posts.” Jungwon offers the four leaders a salute before wearing his mask and making his way to the opened window, where he expertly jumps over while Sunoo and Riki follow suit.

“We have like thirty minutes left until the last segment.” Jay notes, staring down at his wristwatch before his gaze returns to the three of them. “I don’t know about you guys, but I, for one, am intrigued to see for myself if what Jungwon said was true about Y/N looking pretty.”

“She was.” Jake utters, his lips curving into a grin, while he recalls the gorgeous sight of you. “I was with her earlier.”

“How?” Sunghoon asks incredulously.

“She willingly danced with me. Oh, and she seemed rather tipsy, so it makes the hunt a whole lot fun.” Jake chuckles breathily.

“What did she dress up as?” Heeseung finds himself asking this, feeling almost compelled and intrigued to know about the theme you chose.

“An angel.” Jake is certain of his answer, and no, not because of the way you dressed, but because you are indeed an angel who is unfortunate enough to have stepped into their territory without knowing the consequences of your actions.

“How fitting.” Heeseung’s lips turn into a subtle smirk. “Well, gents, it looks like we have ourselves an angel to hunt down.”

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You can definitely understand the rationale of those who have been to this event for the past few years and those who are invited behind their hype for Devil’s Night. The activities the knight members hosted are so diverse that no one can simply miss out on anything. Well, you did miss out on the famous cliché game of truth or dare, not that it bothered you.

Presently, you and your group of friends, including Winter, Kazuha, and the others, are making your way back to the backyard once more after getting some refreshments earlier when the second rave ends. Now all of you have decided to attend and participate in the third rave. The last rave of the night.

The B-stage at the backyard is bigger than the one inside the palace at the supposedly club room, and the crowd is tenfold compared to the previous rave, which enlivened the night even more while the ambience in the air is vibrantly teeming with the LED pink and purple lights flashing across the sea of crowds and into the skies. The bass-boosted music of ‘Tonight’ by Big Bang that the DJ is playing reverberates throughout the expanse of the palace and even further.

“Look at Y/N! Babygirl got moves!” Giselle’s remarks draw attention from your other friends to you, watching you in an effervescent element, which is undoubtedly a rare sight for you.

“I’m glad she’s having fun!” Kazuha exclaims cheerily, smiling widely at the sight of you giggling and dancing in your own world with Chaewon and Liz.

Wonyoung, who opts to take a short break from the dancing, watches you with a softened gaze while her hand is holding a red cup of vodka. Is she still worried for you? Yes, but right now, she is glad to see you having genuine fun.

“She needed this.” Yunjin speaks beside Wonyoung as she watches you as well. "Now, are you glad that we dragged her here?”

“Perhaps.” Wonyoung says. “As long as nothing happens to Y/N or any of us.” Yunjin nods in agreement.

“Okay! I need a break!” Chaewon laughs out, halting her movements, but you pout your lips at her, to which she giggles and pecks your cheek. “Sorry, babe, but you’re on your own now.”

Chaewon makes her way out of the crowd, excusing herself to head to the bathroom while your other friends immerse themselves in the music and separate themselves from you. Eventually, you blend into the crowd, causing Wonyoung and Yunjin to lose sight of you.

The thought of other sweaty bodies coming into contact with yours doesn’t bother you in the slightest. There is a wild glint in your eyes as you dance with a random couple, giggling and succumbing to the exhilaration brimming in your veins.

Unbeknownst to you, you accidentally bump into someone from behind, but just as you are about to apologise to the person, firm hands grip your waist as he pulls you back to him, allowing your back to hit his solid chest.

“Nice moves you got there.” His hot breath fans the shell of your earlobe, reminding you of Jake earlier, but this time, this person’s touch has a hint of roughness, whereas there was gentleness in Jake’s. “Why did you stop, baby?” He hums seductively.

“Jay.” You breathe out, going completely still. His hands remain on your waist, sending you goosebumps with the sensation of his warmth.

“Angel baby.” He lulls beside your ear before you feel him dipping his head down to press a sensual kiss on your shoulder blade. “Come on. Show me your moves.” It is a command.

Despite the trepidation coursing through your veins at the fact that one of the devil’s knights's leaders has you in his possession, you know better than to refuse him. So you begin to sway your body before you gradually pick up the rhythm.

Eventually, you lower your guard around him and dance willingly with him, occasionally grinding your body against his, to which he groans lowly at the sensation of your ass in contact with his dick.

A giggle leaves your lips upon feeling his breath tickling your skin when he buries his head into the curve of your neck. Instinctively, your hand ascends to brush your fingers through his soft raven locks while the two of you continue to sway in sync to the music.

“If I had known you were this fun, I would’ve brought you out with me to a nightclub sooner.” Jay murmurs near your ear before he places a sensual kiss on your pulse.

“You can’t kiss me whenever you want, you know?” You giggle once more, enjoying the way his strong arms are hugging your waist from behind. Perhaps the remnants of the alcohol persist in your system, but you have never been this playful and flirtatious around guys.

“Oh, but I can. I can do whatever the fuck I want with you.” Jay rasps against your skin on the cheek. You feel his fingers stroking your stomach in a sensual manner before they make their ascent to your chest. “Besides, you’re in our territory, angel baby.”

You gasp while your heart lurches in your chest when he gropes your breast, and a low groan leaves his lips next to your ear. Your cheeks flush with warmth at the newfound sensation that pools in your tummy.

“Fuck, baby.” He cusses lowly before pressing another kiss on your neck. “The things I want to do to you right now, but unfortunately, duty calls.”

You frown at the loss of his touch and warmth. “Jay─” But as you turn around, Jay disappears into the crowd, just like Jake did.

“Y/N, for the love of God, do not ever disappear like that again!” Wonyoung’s exclamation can easily be heard over the commotion as you spot her just a few metres away from you.

Your face twists into a grimace at how visible her annoyance and frustration are on her face. Soon, you spot your other friends as well in your vicinity. A part of you desires to find Jay and ask him to elaborate on what he meant by his statement earlier, but you know better than to further involve yourself with him. Just as you step forward, the music dies out, eliciting confusion and anger from the crowd.

“What’s happening?” “Hey, DJ! We weren’t finished raving!” You hear commotions around you, making your head spin lightly.

What happens next throws you completely off guard, and subsequently, you become fully sober miraculously.

The deafening sound of a siren rings through your ears, which is akin to the purge, shattering the night of riotous jollity instantaneously. Despite the perpetual blaring siren, you can discern a dissatisfactory chorus of groans and clamours amongst the crowd. The LED lights begin to dim, but you manage to catch glimpses of your friends' contortions with confusion and percipience.

Before you can open your mouth to speak with the intention to inquire, a stentorian voice that belongs to a female startles you, as it is resounding enough for you to absorb her emphatic words into your mind despite the ongoing siren in the background.

"Announcing the commencement of the annual devil's night sanctioned by the mayor of Seoul. Weapons of class 4 and lower have been authorised for use during Devil's Night. All other weapons are restricted. Commencing at the siren, any and all crimes, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours. Blessed be the four leaders of the devil's knights."

At once, the tumultuous crowd begins to disperse in a haphazard manner, and some can be seen running as though they are being hunted down by unknown sources, or rather, delinquents. Despite the fear in their contortion, you can't help but notice the glimpses of excitement, and an eccentric ambience of thrill pervades in the haunting atmosphere.

Apprehension courses through your veins while your heart beats expeditiously. You swear you can hear your pulse drumming loudly in your ears. In the midst of the ambiguity, your intuition is sending you a message that what may escalate next is not something you expected on a purported Halloween night routine, or rather, assumed.

"Ouch! Hey!" Annoyance bubbles within you upon having been shoved roughly by some people, resulting in you nearly plummeting to the ground if it weren’t for your best friend, who swiftly and steadily supports you as she holds you against her.

"What is going on?" You ask in a demand, with pure confusion reflecting in your eyes. You notice how Yunjin looks oddly collected, but as soon as her gaze runs over you, her eyebrows pull together before a low cuss elicits from her.

"I told you that it was a bad idea to drag her here!" Wonyoung startles you greatly with how she sounds genuinely irate, but when you take a glance at your gorgeous raven-haired best friend, your stomach sinks at the apparent distress written across her delicate features. "We need to get her out of here before any of the knight members get to her, or any of us, for that matter!"

"Winter and Liz are with the others!" Karina informs in haste as she appears next to you, seeming to be running with how apparent she is panting lightly. "We have approximately five minutes to get the hell out of here!"

"It's no use even if we try to escape." Yunjin sighs, running her fingers through her red strands. "They're not letting us out until it's over."

"I don't care." Wonyoung snaps at Yunjin, taking you by surprise when she grabs your wrist tight. "We will find a way to get out of here, even if it means that I have to use violence to fight off the knight members."

"I don't get it!" You raise your voice as you dart your eyes between your best friends. "This was supposed to be a normal Halloween night, but now crimes are acceptable for the next 12 hours?! What sort of─"

The sound of a shotgun pierces through the air, shocking you greatly, and before you can even process anything, you find yourself being dragged by Wonyoung, with Yunjin and Karina following closely in haste.

By the time you have arrived at the parking lot, your eyes widen at the gruesome sight of two masked men displaying violence upon a student who, you presume, attends the same university as you, looking all bloodied with his face completely ruined.

"Come on!" Karina shouts, snapping you out of it before you are being thrust into her car by Wonyoung, who then proceeds to enter the backseat with you while Yunjin is in the shotgun.

As Karina switches the ignition of her vehicle, a shriek leaves your lips as soon as the window next to you shatters into pieces by a golf stick, prompting you to duck your head and move further from the masked man as he attempts to reach out for you, but Karina immediately slams her foot on the pedal gas and speeds off.

A loud gasp escapes from you while your heart is pounding hard against your chest. Wonyoung swiftly engulfs you in her warm embrace, in which you desperately seek comfort, even if it's just for a moment.

"What the fuck?! There are roadblocks everywhere!" Karina exclaims, and you sense a scowl in her tone.

"That's what I've been telling you! We can't escape anywhere until Devil's Night is over." Yunjin says exasperatedly before she looks over her shoulder at you, uncertainty and concern residing in her gaze upon seeing how visibly shaken you are as you cling onto Wonyoung's arms.

"Ah, fuck!" Karina curses once more before steering the wheel expertly, finding other possible solutions. Yunjin shoots her a withering glare, to which Karina retaliates. "Don't give me that look. I have totally forgotten what it was like on Devil's Night."

"Was that why a few students died last year?" You manage to speak through shaky breaths. "Because they were killed on Devil's Night."

Silence befalls your best friends, but as Wonyoung squeezes her arms around you, you know that your presumption is correct. You have finally connected the dots. Initially, you didn’t want to make the assumption that those students who died on Halloween were the same ones who attended Devil’s Night. But as their silence confirms that, your stomach sinks in dread, and you begin to pray silently.

Deciding to distract yourself, you notice some bikers are on the same run as they ride ahead of you, as well as two cars, to which you assume that they are the invited guests.

"We can hide at some place, maybe a building, where there is a high chance that they won't find us." Wonyoung tells Karina, while the latter nods her head and continues to drive with keen eyes.

The vehicle comes to an abrupt halt, sending both you and Wonyoung flying forward. A series of profanities emanate from your best friends.

"Damn it! The wheels got punctured!" Karina groans loudly as she hits her forehead on the steering wheel. "So what's the plan? Either way, we're probably going to get fucked."

"We run, duh." Yunjin pushes the door open, while Wonyoung seems reluctant but heeds her words.

"But we're wearing heels!" Karina's exclamation goes unheard by you as you attempt to catch up to Yunjin and Wonyoung. You wince as you soon begin to feel the aches. Tonight is the wrong night for you to be wearing heels.

You don't even know where you are at this moment, focusing solely on following your best friends from behind, until you hear a familiar voice calling for your group just a few metres away.

"Guys! Over here!" You recognise the guy, who is a junior from the business department. He is fairly famous among the ladies. With the motion of his hand, he is beckoning for your group to enter what looks like an abandoned, massive, three-story building.

"Ricky!" Wonyoung greets him with a friendly yet brief side-hug as soon as she reaches for him. "Are you sure this place is safe?"

"On Devil's Night? Nowhere is safe." Ricky shoots her a lopsided grin before his eyes settle on your face, and instantly, he blinks his eyes in surprise. "Y/N? You're here on Devil's Night?" He asks in dubiety.

In return, you give him an awkward smile. "It's kind of a long story."

"No time to explain. Thanks for helping us out, by the way." Yunjin pats his shoulder firmly before brushing past you.

"Come on." Ricky pulls you in and proceeds to close the fairly huge door with a loud thud.

A gust of wind hits your skin, sending you involuntary shivers as your arms latch around your body in an attempt to warm yourself while your eyes scan the interior of the building with no lights in sight. The only source of light is the moonlight, which streams through the broken window glasses.

You hear hushed yet noticeable voices belonging to unfamiliar and familiar people that go scattering across the floor. You keep wandering around, getting immersed in how hauntingly beautiful the interior building is, as though the previous owners were the royalties.

As you look away from the broken chandeliers above you, you notice that you are in a foyer with a massive flight of stairs in sight. That is also when you realise that you have gone astray from your best friends.

"Wonyoung?" You call out for her, your voice echoing throughout the dark, and your eyes have adapted to the setting. "Yunjin? Karina? Ricky?"

Your body jolts when you hear a piercing scream that belongs to Karina, although she sounds as though she is somewhere on the second floor. Your eyes widen in mortification at the thought of your best friend being gravely injured before you proceed to take hurried steps forward.

Just when your foot steps on a stair, a dark figure standing way above the second floor captures your attention. As you look up, your heart nearly lurches in your chest upon seeing the person with the physique of a man looming over you. He is wearing a black bomber jacket with the hoodie covering his head, and his red mask obscures his identity. His head is tilted to one side, and you would have found it cute if it weren’t for the fact that he is holding a literal metal baseball bat in his grasp.

At the moment he makes his first descent, you begin to make your retreat by undoing whatever you're about to do. You hear a breathy chuckle elicited from the red-masked man that you swear sounds familiar.

Your stomach churns with uneasiness as you continue to back away from him cautiously. Oddly, his movement seems deliberately slow, as though he is taking his time trying to scare you. Releasing a shaky breath, you turn around with the intention to run, but you bump into a solid chest.

Before you can fall, gloved hands latch on your waist, steadying you. As you slowly look up, colours drain from your face at the closed-up look of a designated black mask that he is wearing, and you have no idea who he is. He is also wearing similar attire as his fellow comrade.

"Look at what we have here." His voice sounds oddly deep, as though he is using some sort of advanced technology to conceal his real voice. Despite him wearing a mask, you swear you can feel his gaze raking all over you. "We're giving you ten seconds to run far, angel. Starting now."

Of course, you know better than to delay. So you run, ignoring the touch of his gloved hands on your skin that remains lingering. Your heels and thighs are hurting from all the running. Your chest is hurting with the way your heart pounds hard. Trepidation courses through you. You fear what is to happen next, and you hope to live to see the next sunrise.

It appears that luck is not on your side tonight, as you find yourself falling to the ground. Pain shoots up in your ankle, but thankfully, it is bearable. With a wince, you slowly lift your head up with your hair dishevelled, and when you do, you feel as though your heart drops to the pit of your stomach.

Fear resides in your gaze as you stare up at the figure looming over your fallen figure, his boots directly in front of your face. His head is tilted to one side as he stares down at you, and his face is obscured with a white mask that has a vertical red stripe on one side.

Your mind is screaming at you to run from him, but it is as though you have been rendered immobile, your body paralysed with petrification. Tears well up in your eyes as he bends down on one knee and uses his melee knife to slide under your chin, tilting your head up.

"Please don't kill me." You hold back a sob, attempting to stay strong, but a traitorous tear betrays you as it slides down your cheek.

"You should’ve thought about it twice when you decided to show up in the first place, sweetheart." His voice sounds akin to that of the previous masked man, but you can detect a gentleness in it. For a moment, he reminds you of a certain individual who has been your academic rival for the past few years.

In a blink of an eye, you gasp as he hauls you up with a strong grip and slams you against the wall without any thoughts of gentleness. Your heart continues to pound against your chest as he pins both your wrists above your head tightly while his other is occupied with his melee knife, the tip sliding down your cheek, but not enough to leave any traces of scars.

"Were you supposed to dress up as an angel?" He asks while leisurely trailing the tip of his melee knife against your throat and descending to the expanse of your chest, where your cleavage is enticing to him. "Yeah, you were. But a slutty angel at that."

The degradation in his soft tone throws you off guard. Before you can speak, he renders you speechless when he leans down to press his lips against yours, and you would have considered this your first kiss if it weren’t for the barrier of his mask.

Karina’s piercing scream shatters whatever trance you are in, prompting you to turn your head sideways where her screams are echoed. “Karina.” You utter her name worriedly before looking back at the mysterious masked man whom you will call White. “Please don’t let them hurt Karina or any of my friends.” You implore him rather meekly.

White chuckles, though you can easily detect his mockery. “You are so fucking adorable, sweetheart. Thinking that you can order me around just like that.” He leans away from you and releases you.

Just when you think you can make your escape, he proves you wrong when he grabs your arm firmly, pulling you to flush against his body warmth. “You’re not going anywhere until we’re done with what we need to do.”

“We?” You blurt out just as he drags you with him. It isn’t long until the previous masked men you saw greet you in your line of sight as they laze around by the foyer.

Their heads snap at you, and despite wearing those masks, you swear you can feel the intensity of their gaze on your figure. You decide to call them by the colour of their masks.

“Are we seriously bringing her with us?” Black asks, his tone tinged with annoyance. “She will only be a hindrance to our mission.”

This time, you decide to intervene. “Not to worry! I can just leave you guys to your mission while I see myself out.” You crack a nervous smile before attempting to run past White, but what happens next greatly shocks you.

With ease, White has thrown you over his shoulder, carrying you with his hand holding onto the back of your waist for security. White simply ignores your pathetic attempt to protest as he gives Black and Red a firm head nod before they proceed to make their ascent to the flight of stairs.

You continue to wiggle in his firm grip, and you are conscious of the fact that your weight might bother him, especially the weight in your thighs, as they are slightly thicker than your best friends’.

“Stop moving!” White grunts, getting annoyed at your antics. In an attempt to silence you, a slap echoes throughout while you feel a stinging pain on your buttcheek before your cheeks go flushed at the realisation that he has just smacked your ass without any hesitation whatsoever.

“Jungwon, Riki, what’s the status?” Your ears perk up at the familiar names, whom you recognise as the renowned juniors that are closer to the four devil's knights leaders compared to any frat member.

“Everything is ready. Just say the word, and we’ll blow the building up.” You hear Jungwon’s voice coming from someone’s phone, and you frown at his statement.

“Felix just informed me that Namgil and his crew took the bait and had just entered the building.” Red speaks to White and Black, whereas your stomach is starting to hurt from how sharp White’s shoulder blade is.

You poke at White’s back, earning his attention. “My stomach hurts. Can you let me down? I promise I won’t run away.”

Silence is all you receive from White, which disheartens you. So you close your eyes and try your utmost to withstand the pain while holding back whimpers. Just then, you feel yourself being settled down on a soft cushion before you open your eyes to see yourself seated on a worn-out couch.

You are about to thank White, who is looming over your figure, but you are rendered speechless when he ties your wrists together with a black cable tie.

“What are you doing?!” You raise your voice, the disbelief is evident in your tone. “You didn’t have to tie me! I gave you my word that I wouldn’t run away!”

“Just to be safe.” White tells you before taking a step back. “Stay put, sweetheart. We’ll be right back for you.”

With that, White, Red, and Black make their departure, leaving you alone in this dark room with the only source of light coming from the window, moonlight streaking in, and the faint screams of terror emanating from the outside tainting the night.

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You did attempt calling for help or even your best friends, but to no avail. Your throat is starting to hurt, and you are in dire need of water to quench your thirst. To make matters worse, your ankle looks slightly swollen from falling earlier.

You refuse to obey White’s instructions, so you decide to venture out of the room, trying to find the way out. With each step you take, you limp slightly, wincing every now and then due to your throbbing ankle. You definitely need medical attention before it gets worse.

After what feels like forever, you finally manage to descend to the first floor in the foyer as you hold onto the railing. You heave a sigh, and a glimmer of hope shines in your eye at the thought of escaping from this place, from the three masked men.

But you should know better than to hope, especially when you have broken the rules that are expected of you as God’s blessed child.

Dread fills you when a group of five mask men are in your line of sight. However, these mask men look entirely different compared to the devil’s knights. They are wearing red bomber jackets instead of black.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” One of them, whom you presume is the leader, steps forward as he cackles wickedly. “Y/N. I never thought I’d see a day where the good girl dressed up like a slut.”

You recognise that voice. Kim Namgil. Apparently, he broke some sort of rule or whatever that got him dismissed from the fraternity club. You have heard that he was the worst of the worst of them.

Of course, desperate times call for desperate measures. So, with your slightly swollen ankle, you turn around with the intention to run away from them, and you are almost successful when you feel a painful impact on your back from getting hit by a wooden baseball bat, resulting in you falling to the ground on your knees. You don’t even have the time to attempt to defend yourself despite your wrists that are tied together when he flips you around and pins you to the ground with his fingers curled around your neck in a firm, threatening manner.

“I’ve always wondered what it feels like to fuck you and break you.” Namgil snarls coldly in your face behind his black mask. “After I’m done with you, I’ll let my crew have their turn in destroying your cunt, and then right after, I’ll tear your limbs one by one.”

The fear coursing through your veins is so intense, while tears spring from your eyes. But you remain resilient, still fighting and struggling in his firm grip. Raising your leg, you knee him hard in the sack, eliciting a pissed-off snarl from him.

Your head is turned sideways at the impact of his slap, and your tongue tastes the metallicity of your blood from the cut at the corner of your lips due to his ring. This time, you don’t hold back your sob, weeping helplessly underneath him, yet you keep praying to God that you will be saved.

“Namgil, I don’t think we have time to mess around with her.” One of his crew members tells him with a sense of urgency.

“Just a quick fuck.” Namgil tells him as he squeezes your throat tight, causing black dots to appear in your vision before he slaps your face again, and this time, your head starts to throb painfully.

“Damn, she looks like a fucking slut.” You hear one of them make derogatory remarks with chuckles. “Faster, Namgil. I can’t wait to fuck her pussy.”

At the moment you hear a zipper, more tears spill from your closed eyes as you give up hope and await the pain. But nothing happens next. Instead, you hear a commotion involving punches being thrown and a series of groans and cusses.

You no longer feel the weight of Namgil on top of you, as someone has pulled him away from you. You flutter your heavy eyelids open, and the gruesome sight of Kim Namgil being beaten to pulp by Red greets you just across from you.

“You fucking dared to touch her?!” Red growls out as he grasps his metal baseball bat and is tainted with Namgil’s blood. “You deserve to die a slow, painful death, Namgil.”

You look away with a wince as soon as Red brings down his metal baseball bat to Namgil’s ruined and bloodied face once more, diverting your attention to White, who plunges his knife into one of Namgil’s crew members, to which you gasp, startled upon witnessing the knight members displaying true violence in real time.

You hear a painful scream of a man before the sound of bones cracking makes you go flinching, but you find yourself looking at where the source of the sound comes from, staring at Black, who has broken the limbs of the one whom you recognised as the guy who made the last remark when he slutshamed you.

Then you see a new masked man, and you call him Silver, making his way over to Red, who is evidently berserk and is stopped by Silver. Red seems to breathe heavily and steps away from Namgil before he turns his head to you, but you are busy watching Silver, who appears to be saying something to Namgil tauntingly before the sound of bones crushing pierce through the air.

Upon having to witness such gruesome sights with blood splattering everywhere, tears are continuously streaming down your cheeks, but you have no strength to sob out. Fear and trepidation spread throughout your chest at the thought of you being their next victim.

You flinch as footsteps approach you while you remain on the floor, having no strength after being assaulted by Namgil and his crew. You hear low murmurs around you while your mind is in a haze.

You can barely comprehend anything when you feel someone cutting the cable tie that binds your wrists. A pair of strong arms lifts you and carries you with ease, prompting you to flutter your eyes open to see yourself in Silver’s arms.

“Jungwon, blow the building up.” You hear Black speak as soon as the five of you step out of the abandoned building.

“Wait.” You mumble groggily, wincing as your head throbs once more. “My best friends, they’re still inside─”

“The only ones who are inside are the dead bodies.” Silver says above you, his deep voice is akin to the other masked men’s, surprising you. “Your friends are still alive and have been brought to another place.”

You don’t say anything, too shocked to form coherent sentences upon witnessing the building blow up with a booming sound. You watch as the building is engulfed by the roaring, ferocious flames while the masked men continue to advance forward without a care for the burning building behind them.

A black van pulls over by the curb before the door slides open, revealing the familiar faces of your juniors. “Get in.” Riki tells them before his dark eyes land on you. His eyebrow is raised at you, but he doesn’t say anything as he scoots to the back when Silver steps forward to place you inside.

“Hey, Y/N.” Sunoo greets you with a grin as he is seated in the shotgun. “Fun times, ey?”

You don’t respond, resorting to silence as the rest climb into the van before the door closes. Jungwon, who is the driver, presses his foot on the pedal gas as he speeds away. You expect the four masked men to reveal their faces, but they don’t.

Silver, who is sitting next to you, turns his body to face you with his head tilted to one side. “Now, what shall we do with you?” He ponders out loud, and his statement sends shivers down your spine.

But you are too numb to make any protest or defend yourself from these masked men, as the gruesome images of blood and the sound of bones crushing that emanate from Namgil and his crew remain reeling in your mind. Despite the fact that you’ve always had complete distaste for Namgil, you know that he didn’t deserve to die.

The moment gloved fingers caress your cheek, you flinch away from Black, who is seated next to you. “Since the second part of the hunt is starting soon, why don’t we let angel here join the others instead?” He suggests to his fellow comrades.

You release a shaky breath as you stare at Black with visible fear and curiosity. “Second part of the hunt? You mean to tell me that earlier was just the first part?” Your tone is laced with disbelief.

“That’s right. The first hunt was to hunt and kill the victims on our list while the others spread horror and terror to those lucky ones who didn’t make it to the list.” This time, Jungwon tells you, meeting your eyes in the rearview mirror fleeting, yet you manage to catch his smirk that has obvious wicked intent.

Perturbation gnaws in your tummy as you lick your dry, quivering lips. “And what does the second hunt entail?” You manage to ask despite the shakiness in your voice.

“You’re about to find out, angel.” Black chuckles with a hint of darkness, and concurrently, the vehicle comes to an abrupt stop, nearly flinging you to the front, but Silver’s quick reflexes manage to prevent you from doing so with his arms shooting out to hold you.

The door automatically opens before Silver makes his exit first, he turns to you and holds his hand out for you, to which you hesitantly accept his assistance before you make your exit as well.

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“Y/N!” Your girls, specifically Wonyoung’s voice that overpowers theirs, call for you as soon as the four masked men have brought you to where the other victims are gathered, as well as the other knight members with their masks and similar attire. You shudder upon seeing different types of weapons in their grasp.

All the while, you have been trying your utmost to ignore the throbbing pain in your ankle and walk as normally as you can. The sound of gates rattling closed from behind startles you, prompting you to look over your shoulder to see that the entrance is closed. You scan your surroundings briefly, noticing that they have brought you to a massive labyrinth garden, which appears to have a multitude of mazes that also seem endless. You spot the divine palace in the background, but it looks further away from you.

Once White releases his grip on your arm, you waste no time rushing for your awaiting friends and crash into the first person who has her arms outstretched for you. Your eyes water as you bury your head into her chest, and for once,you are glad that she’s taller than you by five centimetres. Wonyoung’s warmth shrouds your cold, trembling form while you feel relieved to see her and the others again, despite the fact that this comfort you desperately seek and bask in is only temporary.

You silently thank God for keeping your good friends safe and in one piece.

Just then, your eyes widen at the sudden realisation that hits you, prompting you to pull away from Wonyoung. “Karina!” The moment you utter her name, your gaze immediately settles on the familiar catwoman standing in between Winter and Kazuha. As your eyes rake all over her, confusion etches on your canvas. “You’re not hurt? But I thought I heard you scream earlier.”

Karina gives you a sheepish smile. “I got startled when a cobweb of spiders hit my face, and afterwards, one of the knight members scared the fuck out of me, but don’t worry, honey, I’m perfectly fine!” She reassures you once more, and you begin to relax, only for a while before the screeching sound of a speaker pierces in the air, causing all of you to wince.

“Congratulations for making it to this stage.” White speaks into the microphone, garnering everyone’s attention while you briefly look over to the numerous familiar faces of the other students amongst the crowd. “However, Devil’s Night is far from over, and unfortunately, whether you’ll survive this stage or not is all dependent on you.”

White passes the microphone to Silver. “Yes, we’re aware that this is new for those of you who have been to the previous annual Devil’s Nights.” Silver explains. “For this stage, all of you will be given seven minutes to run and find the exit of the labyrinth garden.”

“Seven minutes?!” A guy from your cohort barks out his discontent. “Seven minutes is impossible for us to make our escape! Look at this maze! It’s fucking massive!”

“Too fucking bad.” You hear a smirk in Silver’s tone. “So you better be running for your life once we hit the countdown.”

“And what happens if we don’t make it to the exit in time?” Liz asks loudly, and when you look at her, you frown at the discernible excitement in her eyes. Why is she excited when she should be apprehensive just as you are now?

It’s not just her, but you notice the palpable tension of excitement emanating from some of the victims. It is as if they have been expecting this adventurous thrill that may or may not cost their lives. Your face twists into a slight grimace, finding them odd.

Red snatches the microphone from Silver. “For those of you who successfully manage to find the exit on time, congratulations. You are free to leave and enjoy the rest of Devil’s Night with what we have to offer.” Black pauses before he elicits dark chuckles. “But for those who fail, you’re ours to kill, ours to toy, ours to torture, and ours to fuck once we find you. We’ll do whatever we want for you. So when we tell you to run, you run and don’t ever fucking stop.”

You see Black motioning for the microphone, which Red gives him. “As for our fellow knights, don’t forget to stake your claims if you haven’t. Remember to hunt down only what is yours.” As Black says this, you can feel his gaze behind his mask fixed intently on your face. “The second part of the hunt starts now.”

On his command, everyone, with the exception of the knight members, erupts into squeals and tumultuous commotion as they make their way to the multitude of mazes haphazardly. Wonyoung has already dragged you along with her, shoving her way through the crowd with profanities occasionally leaving her lips while her grip around your wrist tightens.

“This way!” Wonyoung barks over her shoulder to you before tugging you with her into one of the mazes.

“Yunjin! Chaewon! Girls!” You shout to your friends at the other side, who fail to hear your calling as they proceed to enter different mazes, followed by some other victims. You wince when Wonyoung adds more force as she drags you. “Wony! Slow down!”

“Are you crazy?!” Wonyoung raises her voice as she gives you a bewildered glare. “We only have seven minutes, and you’re telling me to slow down!?”

“But my ankle hurts.” You whimper as you finally allow yourself to limp, prompting Wonyoung to halt her steps while panic resides in her gaze.

“How did this happen?!” Wonyoung begins to fuss over you, bending down to touch your swollen ankle before returning her gaze to your face. “Never mind that. How bad does it hurt now?”

“Like an eight? I don’t know.” You grimace, putting more weight on your other perfectly fine ankle. Your eyes dart at your surroundings while you rub your arms in an attempt to provide some warmth due to the cold breeze that hallows as well. “How are we even supposed to find the exit in this massive labyrinth?” You ask, feeling disheartened. You yearn to return to the comfort of your bed and snuggle with your soft toys.

“Can you try to withstand the pain?” Wonyoung asks with a concerned frown, and you nod your head in response. “Okay. We’ll try to brisk-walk and search for the exit. We have about,” She pauses as she glances down at her phone screen. “Four minutes?! Shit!” She grabs your hand and wastes no time walking in haste.

You ignore your ankle, which is throbbing painfully now, as you follow her. Amidst the trepidation, determination sizzles through you, and you have every intention to escape from the knights’ grasps, specifically the four masked men from earlier. Your stomach churns while you have an inkling that they’ll be hunting you down.

Time seems to be passing by slowly as you are starting to feel the exertion dawning on your body from the events that happened since the moment you stepped foot into their territory. Wonyoung, too, looks exhausted as she has finally released your hand, but as always, she remains composed with her head held up high, and determination is like steel in her eyes.

The two of you turn to the right corner, and at once, groans are emitted from both of you. Greeted in your line of sight is a lengthy, narrow maze with different entrances on each side. “I swear we’re going in circles!” Wonyoung scowls indignantly, but nonetheless, she advances forward while you stop to take a breather.

You pant lightly, wiping the sweat above your brow. “Wait, Wony─”

But just as Wonyoung turns around, a figure decked out in familiar attire and a grey mask that obscures his identity emerges from the shadows of the entrance next to Wonyoung, who grabs her with his arm around her waist while the other has her wrists locked firmly.

“Hey! Get the hell away from me!” Wonyoung thrashes in his grasp as he drags her with him. She turns her head to glare at the man in the mask before recognition flickers in her gaze. “Jungwon! Please!”

A gasp leaves your lips at the name that leaves her mouth. You watch as Jungwon continues to drag Wonyoung with him while the latter continues to plead, though you can’t help but discern the softness in her tone towards him.

“Wonyoung!” You cry out for your soul sister as you step forward with the intention of getting her back, afraid of what might happen to her. But the moment you attempt to reach out for her, Jungwon turns to look at you and shakes his head.

“Don’t, Y/N. Unless you want to end up on the wrong side of my knife.” The wicked intent in his voice is resounding, rendering you frozen in your spot. “Luckily for you, you’re not mine to kill.”

“Y/N─'' Jungwon clamps his hand over Wonyoung’s mouth before they eventually disappear from your sight as they enter one of the entrances, leaving you alone and helpless.

Tears are welling in the rims of your eyes, while the trepidation that courses through your veins is starting to feel overwhelming. You sniffle as you quickly wipe away the fallen teardrop on your cheek before you force yourself to advance forward, mustering whatever courage and determination are left within you.

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The shrill screams, which belong to different individuals, have been continuously pierced into the cold, foreboding atmosphere once more, startling you as you tighten your arms around your body in an attempt to seek some form of succour.

By now, you are numb to the pain in your swollen ankle and solely focused on surviving this hunt and making it out alive. You turn to a left corner and continue to venture forward until you hear a voice belonging to a familiar person that kindles hope in your chest.

“Yunjin?” You call for her, moving forward while your eyes dart everywhere as you walk past different entrances. You become startled when you spot one of the knights holding a chainsaw chasing after two girls who are screaming in terror before you quickly mind your own business and resume searching for your childhood best friend.

“Yunjin─” You immediately halt your steps as soon as you hear faint moans emitting from your very own childhood best friend. Your face contorts into confusion as you listen to how she is moaning pleasurably while there is a faint slapping sound of skins.

A part of you knows better than to indulge your curiosity, but you find yourself advancing forward once more. As soon as you turn your head, the obscenity sight greets you and renders you completely shocked to the point where your body feels paralysed, unable to move.

There is your childhood best friend on top of a masked man as he is seated on a wooden bench, and their lower regions are completely stripped off of any layer of garments. Her back is facing you as she bounces continuously on him with her hands draped over his shoulders lazily.

As your gaze falls down, that is when you finally notice that Yunjin is indeed fucking down on the masked man. You can see how lewd they are fucking into each other with a series of moans and groans emitting from them. You should feel disgusted, and you should be looking away from the obscenity, but you become enthralled by the sight of his cock disappearing into her pussy each time she bounces.

Oddly, your heart is racing at a foreign pace, and your throat becomes dry the longer you watch them get immersed in the fucking. You stagger a step back, panting lightly while feeling a foreign sensation pooling in your core. The warmth all over your body feels odd, bothering you greatly.

“Fuck, just like that.” The mask man throws his head to the back, holding Yunjin by her ass cheeks to assist her. “You’re doing so well, baby. Keep fucking on me like a desperate whore you are.”

You squeeze your thighs together to suppress the sensation that becomes oddly unbearable in your core. Just as you stagger a step back, your back hits a solid chest, causing your heart to drop.

Before you can run away, an arm slithers around your waist, locking you in place. A tut leaves his lips. “Naughty angel. Having fun watching your best friend fucking him like a whore?” It is Black.

“N-No.” You protest weakly, looking away from the sight, but he uses his gloved hand to grip your jaw and turn your head, forcing you to keep your eyes trained on your best friend.

“Don’t lie to me, baby.” Black speaks next to your ear while your breaths get heavier and your mind is tainted with forbidden thoughts the longer you watch them fuck. “I know you love it. You’re probably wishing that was you.”

Your breath catches in your throat as he gropes the flesh of your breast with earnestness, while his other hand trails downward on your stomach before his fingers go underneath the material of your dress. You gasp inaudibly at the sensation of his fingers teasingly grazing across your clothed pussy, and you swear you can feel some form of essence leaking between your folds.

“N-No.” Your weak protest does nothing to stop Black from his assault on you while you watch with hooded eyelids as your best friend continues to fuck the mask man vigorously while the sounds emanating from them become pornographic.

“Fuck, you’re nearly soaked, angel.” Black nearly growls as his chest vibrates against your back, sending you shivers down your spine.

Light pants leave your lips as your mind is infused with impure thoughts, and your hips buck, as though in an attempt to entice Black, but he continues to tease you by stroking the outer of your womanhood.

The sound of a feminine scream pulls you out of the lustrous trance as you blink your eyes. Mortification hits you like whiplash, while guilt shrouds you. Gritting your teeth, you muster courage before slamming your elbow into his stomach hard, resulting in him releasing you while a painful groan emits from him.

“Y/N!” You hear Black roaring from behind, the sheer anger is palpable in his tone while you run as if your life depends on it, despite your ankle sending you signals that it needs medical attention as soon as possible.

Your brunette waves flail behind you, soaring in the wind as you run while a few strands of your locks stick to your face. Your heart is pounding harder against your chest, and your chest begins to tighten with anxiety at the worst possible outcome.

A scream leaves your lips as soon as two lower-ranking knight members emerge from the bushes with different weapons in their grasp, bringing fright upon you. You run to the opposite side, and when you do, other knight members wreak terror upon you with their weapons, but they don’t do anything to you. It is also as though they are forcing you to go in the intended direction by scaring you relentlessly.

You choke back a sob, tears stinging in your eyes. You wish that this was all just a mere nightmare, but the exertion, the aches, and the pain all over your body say otherwise. You find yourself yearning to return to your beloved parents and the cosy ambience of your home, where you feel safe and loved.

A genuine scream of terror rips from your throat when Silver emerges from a shadow, holding an axe that is dripping with blood. “Where do you think you’re going, princess?” He asks mockingly, stalking towards you.

Tears stream down your cheeks, but you refuse to let out a cry. You back away from him quickly before turning around to run, but you crash into a solid chest and firm hands hold onto your waist, prompting you to look up and stare at Red with panicked eyes.

“Caught you, sweet angel.” You hear him purr with pleasure. You shove him in the chest, pushing him away from you. Facing your two predators, you back away in haste. Pure fear shines in your glistening eyes.

From your peripheral vision, you spot Black emerging from the tall bushes with a dagger in his grasp, and you can immediately discern his wrath, as evident in the way he trudges towards you.

“Stay away from me!” You begin to scream at them, tears are relentlessly streaming down your cheeks. “Leave me alone, you sick bastards!” You ignore the small voice in your mind that is berating you for saying a profanity.

“So the angel can scream.” Silver remarks with a cold chuckle. “Scream all you want, because no one will come to save you.”

Frantically, you grab a small rock at the side as you bend down before you throw it in the direction of Silver, who dodges in time. Silver scoffs out a chuckle. “You’re really starting to get on my nerves, princess.”

You yelp out as you trip over something, resulting in you falling backward with your bum hitting the hard ground. You wince before you attempt to get away from them, crawling backwards as your three predators are nearing.

But at the moment your hand touches a boot behind you, your heart sinks into the pit of your stomach before you force yourself to look up. Alas, White is staring down at you while in his grasp is a white handkerchief.

“You failed, sweetheart.” White says softly.

In an instant, Red hauls you up, forcing you to stand and holding you firmly by the arm. You whimper out a cry as you feel your hands being forced to the back as White has your forearms interlocked with one hand.

“Don’t worry, baby. We won’t be fucking you tonight.” Black chuckles darkly at the side, the anger that emanates from him is evident. “This is something to remember us by when you wake up, and when you do, remember our masks.”

Red grabs your chin, tilting your head up. “We’re not done with you yet, sweet angel.”

You open your mouth to speak, but White covers your mouth and nose with the white cloth, forcing you to inhale the substances that he had sprayed with. You struggle in their grasps with tears leaking from your eyes, but soon, you begin to lose strength while your mind becomes groggy.

Your hooded eyelids feel heavier with each passing second. Alas, you succumb to the darkness as it shrouds your whole being.

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“Y/N? Y/N! Wake up!”

It feels as though your soul has been slammed down into your body as you jolt from your deep slumber. Fluttering your eyes open, you are greeted by the familiar sight of your bedroom ceiling before you finally realise that you are back in your dorm. The exertion dawning on your body renders you immobile as you remain in bed.

You feel soft fingers stroking your cheek, prompting you to look at your childhood best friend, whose face has a twist of concern and sympathy. “Babygirl, you’re fine now.”

That is also when you realise the dampness on your cheeks. With Yunjin’s assistance, you raise your body to be vertical and lean on the headboard. You glance down and notice that you are in your Hello Kitty pyjama set.

A relief sigh leaves your lips. So whatever happened last night was just a mere nightmare. Yet, it is a nightmare that you will probably remember for the next few days.

“Is she awake?” Wonyoung’s voice draws your attention to her as she barges into your room. As soon as your eyes meet hers, you notice the sheer relief in her eyes. “Y/N, thank God you’re fine. You’ve been asleep for so long.”

“It wasn’t that long.” Yunjin tells Wonyoung before taking a glance at her phone screen. “Oh, wait. You’re right. Y/N missed breakfast and lunch.”

“What time is it?” You ask, finding it odd that your throat is dry and scratchy.

“It’s four in the afternoon.” Yunjin replies as she gives you a sympathetic smile. “It’s understandable that you woke up this late.”

“I had a nightmare.” You mumble, your fingers tracing circles on your duvet that is covering your outstretched legs. “A really terrifying nightmare. I don’t think I ever want to experience that again.”

As Wonyoung sits on your other side, you immediately latch your arms around your best friends, bringing them into a hug while you sigh in contentment. “I’m glad it was just a nightmare.”

But they don’t reciprocate your hug, which brings a frown to your lips. You pull away from them and notice prudence in their heavenly features. “What?”

“Babygirl, what happened last night wasn’t a nightmare.” Yunjin tells you, her voice sounds quiet.

The relief you feel dissipates and is replaced by apprehension. Your chest feels constricted as fragments of the whole event that transpired last night coalesce into one. The last remark from Red remains vividly clear in your mind.

“It wasn’t?” You ask numbly, looking at Wonyoung for confirmation, and the latter nods her head. Your eyes trail down to her neck, noticing fresh purple and red hickeys on her porcelain skin.

“Hey, the other girls will be coming over─” Karina stops her sentence midway as she saunters into your room, her eyes meeting yours. “Y/N! You’re awake!” She grins at you, oblivious to your disheartened spirit. That is also when you notice bandages on her forehead and hands.

You uncover the duvet from your legs. The familiar throb in your swollen ankle serves as a reality that you did, in fact, attend Devil’s Night on your own accord, and you have no one else to blame but yourself.

“I helped to ice your ankle and apply some ointment.” Wonyoung tells you as she rubs your thigh soothingly. “It should heal in two or three days.”

You remain silent while your eyes turn crestfallen. Your three best friends exchange worried glances.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Yunjin asks gently, and when she touches your shoulder, you visibly flinch, bringing a frown to her lips.

The obscenity of your best friend willingly fucking herself onto one of the knight members is something you can’t erase, and you can’t help but feel sickened and disgusted. You're disgusted at her, and more importantly, you’re disgusted at yourself for bearing forbidden thoughts and for how you acted. You recoil from her touch, scooting slightly away from her before you return to lie on your bed with your back facing her.

“Yeah. I just want to be alone for now. Please.” You croak out pleadingly while tears spring from your eyes as you hug the duvet close to your chest.

“Fine, but don’t miss dinner, okay?” Wonyoung pats your arm gently before she proceeds to depart from your room alongside Karina and Yunjin. All the while, they become confused by your unusual behaviour.

“We’re not done with you yet, sweet angel.”

Red’s words remain lingering in your mind, taunting you and evoking the familiar fear within you while dread crawls onto your skin.

With a faint of heart, you release the sobs you have been holding back, weeping in the comfort of your bed that is surrounded by your soft toys. You will definitely remember your first Devil’s Night, and it will also be your last.

You fear that the events that transpired on Devil’s Night have been engraved in your mind as well as rendering you traumatised, and you have no idea if you will ever recover from them.

▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰

You didn’t leave your room for the next few hours. Your eccentric behaviour worried your best friends gravely, and they took turns knocking on your door to get you to come out and have dinner, but you didn’t respond to any of them, causing them to resign and finally leave you alone.

It is not that you hate your best friends, but the fact that they don’t seem to be bothered by whatever happened last night and their normalcy confounds you. At the same time, you can’t help but feel resentful towards them. Knowing that they have been attending Devil's Night since freshmen, how do they still not find any issues in the Halloween event that entail such heinous pursuits?

You love your best friends, you really do, but right now, as you have been reflecting deeply, you wonder if you truly know them.

“Mom.” You greet your mother on the line as you press speaker mode.

“Hey, sweetie. Aren’t you supposed to be asleep at this hour?” Your mother’s kind and gentle voice brings tears to your eyes while you try your best to hold back your sob. You yearn to be in her warm, comforting arms, where you feel undoubtedly safe.

“I slept more than enough earlier.” You force out a laugh, wiping the fallen teardrop from the corner of your eye. “Is Dad there?”

“He’s on a night shift.” Your mother informs you, but you sense a certain tone of knowingness in her tone as she continues to speak. “Tell me, what happened?”

“Nothing. What makes you think that?” You raise your body vertically, sitting on the bed, while one of your soft toys is in your lap as you toy with its arm mindlessly.

“I know my daughter, Y/N. You hardly called me at this hour. Did something happen to my sweetie?”

Alas, the tears brimming in your eyes cascade down your cheeks. “Am I still good, Momma?” Your voice cracks in between, allowing your true emotion to surface.

“Of course you are. You are always good, and goodness is always inside of you.” Your mother remains constant in the way she speaks to you in a soft lull.

“But what if I did something bad?” You say sullenly. “What if I sinned?”

There is a brief silence on the line, and you can’t discern whether your mother is mad at you or not. “Sweetie, there is no denying that you are God’s blessed child, and purity has always been a big part of you, but you are a human just like the rest. You’re bound to make mistakes. So if you have sinned, you should already know what to do next.”

“Are you mad at me?” You ask meekly, swallowing a lump in your throat. You hate disappointing your mother.

“No, I’m not.” Your mother reassures you. “Get some sleep, okay? It isn’t good to stay up too late. I love you, always. Remember that, sweetie.”

“I love you too, Mom.” You reciprocate as your voice comes out shaky before you end the call.

Your gaze settles on the familiar book of the Bible on your nightstand. With your trembling hand, you reach out for the book. Once you have it in your possession, you begin to flip over the pages before your fingers halt at a certain page. At once, you begin to read.

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“Are you sure you don’t need me to come with you?” Kazuha asks as soon as you dismount from her Yamaha bike. You proceed to give her the helmet before you adjust your slightly tousled hair, making it neater.

“I’m sure.” You tell her, a tinge of resolution glimmers in your eye despite the guilt that has been churning in your tummy. You give her a smile of gratitude. “Thank you so much. I owe you one.”

“Nonsense. You’re my friend, aren’t you?” The leather-clad girl grins at you. “Call me when you’re done. I’ll fetch you. Besides, we’re long overdue for a date.”

You watch as Kazuha speeds off with the blaring noise from her engine, eliciting a chuckle from you as you know that your dear friend is simply flaunting her sleek black bike.

The smile on your lips flattens as soon as your gaze settles on the divine building. A gust of wind hits your skin, sending you shivers and prompting you to hug your white coat around your figure. It has been quite some time since you visited the church that is situated on the same street as the campus due to the heavy workload given by your professors for the past months that you didn’t even have the time to visit.

You find yourself stepping forward before picking up the pace and entering the building. Thankfully, there are not many people. You offer a polite smile to the sisters walking past you, as they also welcome you with warm smiles.

At once, you feel at ease, and the familiar tranquillity in the ambience feels like a gentle hug, assuring you that despite the sins on your shoulder and the guilt weighing on your conscience, you will be pardoned in the end. After all, you are God’s most loved child.

The priest, who appears to be speaking to one of the members of the church, directs his focus to you, and once he sees your face, a warm smile touches his lips. “It has been awhile, my child.”

You reciprocate his smile despite your nervousness. “School has been keeping me occupied.”

“What brings you here on a Sunday morning?” The priest asks.

You release a shaky breath while regret shines in your eyes and the guilt tightens around your heart. “I have a confession to make.”

His smile falters just slightly. He tips his head in the direction where the familiar booth of the sacrament of penance is, beckoning you to follow him. “Come, child.”

It isn’t long until you have finally reached it, now seated on the chair with your heart pounding against your chest.

“Whenever you are ready.” The priest says to you from the other side.

The events that transpired last night are like a film in your mind as you recall them. A tumultuous mixture of emotions is palpable within you while you attempt to remain collected.

With a shaky breath, you begin your confession, “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned……”

#the devil's knights' prey #enhypen #enhypen hyung line #heeseung #jake #sunghoon #jay #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen poly #reverse harem #halloween #thriller #enhypen smut #enhypen hyung line x reader

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twola · 1 month

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last line tag game

rules: in a new post, show the last line(s) you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or as many as you feel like).

Got tagged by the lovely @morning-star-joy ! Here’s a snippet from the next chapter of Devil’s Backbone.

➵

“Have you ever raped a woman?”

Arthur stiffens in the saddle, then turns his entire torso to get the closest to facing you that he can.

“No. Why you askin’ that?”

“Seems like you’ve done everything else-” You retort back.

“Have I ever acted untoward to you?”

“No.” You try to push the intruding thoughts of Micah from your mind.

“Ain’t that type of degenerate.” He grumbles, “Sides, it wouldn’t speak highly of your smarts if you was out alone with a man who forces himself on women.”

#red dead redemption 2 #last line tag #arthur morgan smut #Devil’s backbone #twolafic

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holylulusworld · 2 years

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The devil’s assistant (2) - Between enemies’ lines

Summary: Being the jack of all trades to Homelander makes your life miserable. You find a way to fuck him over…literally.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x fem!Reader (main pairing); Homelander x fem!Reader (platonic), Billy Butcher x fem!Reader

Warnings: language, angst, light smut, protected sex, possessive Soldier Boy, jealousy. implied smut, the reader is a slut for anyone but Homelander, we all hate Homelander here, Homelander being the ass he is, Soldier Boy hates Homelander, the reader is bisexual, making out, almost smut, violence, blood

A/N: Please be aware I finished this little story before I saw Jensen play him so, there will be no canon in this story. Neither from the comics nor the show. It's rather a fuck festival with a little plot...

The devil’s assistant masterlist

<< Part 1

“Fuck, that’s it, sweetness,“ Billy groans in your ear as he finally finishes inside the condom. He held back as long as he could. It’s just that it’s been too long since he had the chance to fuck you. “Did I ever tell you that your cunt is the best I ever had?”

“Compliments won't make me like you more,” you hiss as he pulls out to disregard the condom somewhere on the floor of the dingy motel room he brought you to. “Can we at least fuck on clean sheets next time? And don’t drop trash on the ground. Someone must clean your shit and I can tell; it’s disgusting to find a used condom on the floor. Clean your shit!”

“They are as clean as sheets at a motel room can be,” he laughs in your neck, pecking the mark he left. “Can I have the rest of the information now or do you want another round.”

“Nah, I’m good. If you pick up the condom and throw it into the trash, you’ll get more,” rolling on your back you watch Billy stare down at your exposed cunt. “What? See something you like.”

“A pretty cunt,” Butcher shrugs, smirking like the dirty bastard he is. You don’t complain, though. He’s using you just like you are using him to get off and forget about your shitty life. “So, give me the dirt now, Y/N. I kept my promise and made you cum twice.”

“Queen Maeve is the queen of my cunt,” you snicker as Billy makes a face. “She loves to fuck me and any other pussy. Homelander can never know because he’ll kill anyone taking his place. He’s such a prissy cunt.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Aw, don’t get your panties in a twist, Butcher Boy,” you coo, rolling on your stomach to watch him pick the condom up. “Good boy.”

“Just don’t start with that shit again,” he warns, glaring at you. “I need information and I need them now.”

“A-train and Homelander are not a good team,” eyes glued to his softened cock you lick your lips. “They can’t work together to save their lives. Rumors say they want to get rid of Mr. Speedy too. He’s getting slower.”

“What about Black Noir?” Billy groans as you are not paying attention to him. You rather crawl onto the edge of the bed to run your hand over his chest. “Y/N, we have an agreement.”

“Noir stays mostly to himself and doesn’t talk much. He gets his orders directly from Homelander. You can bet your cute ass that he’ll die for his leader.”

“Noir is out.”

“Maeve would gladly break Homelander’s neck,” patting Billy’s chest you smirk. “She wants to be free of him to lick pussy.”

“You’re awful,” he shakes his head, pushing your hands away when you try to pat his cock too. “I need allies, not someone only thinking about cock.”

“I think about pussy too, Butcher,” you sing-song. “All the time I’m not thinking of cock. Anyways, Maeve is a possible ally against Homelander. You already got Starlight. One more and you’ve got your team of supes.”

“A-train won’t help us. He blames us for what happened to his girl,” rolling your eyes you watch Billy redress. “The deep, no way. He threw a wale at us.”

“He didn’t exactly throw the wale at you, dude. But, he’s an abuser and we don’t want someone like him on the team.”

“Anything else?”

“Don’t be like that. Let’s have some fun. Eat shitty food and fuck the life out of each other. We can go for a rollercoaster ride and spit on other people.”

“Y/N, can you take this seriously for one moment. We are talking about supes. They kill people, throw them under the bus without as much as a snap of their fingers,” Butcher yells now. He pants heavily, close to just storm out of the room to never see you again.

“Soldier Boy is your best shot,” you sit on the bed, crossing your legs. You are not in the mood to think about the supes, their stupid games, or anything else but to not lose Billy, you’ll focus on his mission for a moment. “As far as I can tell, he hates Homelander. They will butt heads sooner or later.”

“Hey, whatever helps us bring Homelander down…” Butcher shrugs.

“Yeah, I guess so—” you recall Soldier Boy’s words from earlier. If he’s into you, maybe, just maybe he’ll help you get rid of Homelander…

“Where have you been?” Soldier Boys muses as you try to mind your own business. He stands too close for comfort, and it makes you shiver as he just smells too good. Like musk, and testosterone and pure sex. “I’ve missed you, sweetheart.”

All you can do is swallow thickly when he runs his index finger up and down your neck. He leans close enough to feel his breath on your skin. “It was my day off, Sir. Now, if you would excuse me, I’m tired and need sleep. Homelander gets up painfully early.”

“I know a thing or two to make you sleep like an angel, Y/N,” fuck, he slides his tongue along your neck, pressing little moans out of you. “I can show you heaven, sweetheart. Everyone knows you are a little slut to get over the shit Homelander pulled.”

“That so—” you dip your head to grant Soldier Boy more access to your neck. “Maybe I’m just a little slut, Soldier Boy.”

“No, you’re not,” his teeth sink into your neck, ruining the mark Butcher left a few hours ago. Soldier Boy groans against you, hands already moving to your waist. “I can still smell that guy on you.”

“I like to fuck, that’s all,” a whine leaves your lips when Soldier Boy pulls away. “Just not Homelander.”

“I want you to have a shower and sleep that day off. From tomorrow on, you’ll not fuck anyone else. You’re mine now,” you squeak feeling his lips press against yours. Soldier Boy is a force of nature. He dominates the kisses and forces his tongue past your lips to explore your mouth, making you whimper against him. “Say it.”

“I—” shit, your panties are ruined, and you already feel the familiar heat spread through your body as his hand moves between your legs. “Please.” You whine against his lips. “I want—”

“Not now and not after you fucked someone else,” he steps away, observing your wrecked state. Soldier Boy smirks darkly. He can smell your arousal but won’t touch you tonight. “You’ll come to me when you are ready to settle for one partner.”

And then he just walks away, smirking the moment he’s out of sight. Soldier Boy is no one to share a partner. He’ll get you in his clutches sooner than later. He’s sure about it…

“Fuck, not now,” you just got comfortable on your bed when your phone starts ringing. “I swear if that’s the blonde bastard I’ll strangle him. Supe or not, I’ll kill him. Butcher will thank me.”

“Hello, kitten,” Homelander smirks as he purrs into the phone. He sounds likes he’s drunk, and you wonder why he called you in the middle of the night. “Why do you not come over and lemme bury my face between your legs.”

“Sir, I’m going to hang up now and forget you called me in the middle of the night. Get sober and stop bugging me.”

“Don’t fuck that bastard!” he yells now. “You can’t do that to me. It’s worse enough that I can hear them whisper behind my back. Everyone wants Soldier Boy to become the new leader of the seven.”

“Again, go to bed and leave me alone. I don’t care who the leader of your supe team is. Remember, I’m only the girl getting you your food and taking care of your laundry,” hanging up in the middle of the call you chuckle. You fall back onto your pillow, grinning as your phone starts ringing again.

“Why did you just hang up?” he growls into the phone. “Do not forget your place, kitten. You don’t—” and you hang up again. You’re just done getting pushed around by the supe. If he wants to kill you know, so be it.

“What’s the matter, blondie,” you can hear Soldier Boy outside of your room. He chuckles darkly, undoubtedly flashing Homelander a cocky grin. “Aw, your cute assistant doesn’t want to bang you. That’s it, right? I wonder why…”

“Get out of my way or I swear,” ripping the door open you glare at Homelander before you wrap your hand around Soldier Boy’s wrist. “Y/N?” Homelander watches you drag the other supe inside your room before you slam the door in his face. “Open the fucking door! Y/N, don’t make me break it.”

“Hello, sweetheart,” Soldier Boy has you pressed up against the wall in no time. You eagerly wrap your arms around his neck and start to make out with him as if your life depends on it. “Fuck, you smell so good, so fucking good. I’m glad you washed that guy off your skin.”

“Fuck me. Make him listen. I want that bastard to know the new supe in town gets what he’ll never have,” he smirks down at you, nodding before he crushes his lip onto yours. You moan into his mouth, as he easily hoists you up to grind his erection into your core. “You’re packing, huh? You’ve got the full package. Big dick energy and a big dick.”

“We need to take it slow, or I’ll break you into two halves,” you grab his shoulders, grinding into him. “Y/N, slow down before I lose control and fuck you into the wall.”

“Just fucking get out of that suit and fuck me, pretty boy. I don’t have time to waste,” he laughs as you eagerly tug at his suit. “Damnit, it won’t budge.”

“Oh, I will keep the suit on,” Soldier Boy exclaims. “I’ll get my cock out and ruin this cunt once and for all. No one else will touch you from now on.” An odd noise leaves your lips as he whispers dirty nothings in your ear.

“Last warning,” Homelander growls outside of your room as his chosen nemesis struggles to get his dick out. “If you dare to touch my assistant, you are not going to be one of the seven.”

“I don’t give a single fuck,” you drop your eyes to his crotch, swallowing thickly. “I will have a taste of her right now. You can go and jerk off imagining it’s you fucking her once again or just watch me destroy your sweet girl through the wall.”

“You want to destroy me?” he chuckles darkly at your question. “I’m all game, Soldier Boy. Show me what you can do to my poor pussy. Make her sing.”

“Sweetheart, you are something else,” for a moment you see something in his eyes. His features soften and he presses a soft kiss to your temple. “You’re too good to fuck all these people giving a shit on you.”

“SOLDIER BOY!” the door to your room bursts open and you instinctively, cling to Soldier Boy’s body. You whimper as Homelander stalks into your room. His eyes glow bright red and you fear he’ll just kill you and the supe. “I TOLD YOU TO STAY AWAY FROM MY ASSISTANT!”

“She’s not your fucking property,” Soldier Boy carefully helps you stand and shoves you behind his back. He cracks his neck, smirking at Homelander. “Do you really want to start a fight over this? She doesn’t even like you anymore. Not after the shit you and your lawyers pulled. Only you can chase a true fan away.”

“I told you to take your hands off her,” your boss takes another step closer. He puts his hands on his hips, huffing as you try to make yourself as small as possible behind Soldier Boy’s back. “Get out of her room and you’ll not feel my wrath.”

“Aw, you’re kinda cute,” cocking his head, Soldier Boy laughs at Homelander’s attitude. “An angry boy, wearing a diaper with stripes and stars tries to threaten me. Uh, I’m scared now.” He laughs in Homelander’s face. “Did you forget what I told you not a few days ago?”

“Get off my assistant. I dare you to touch her again.”

Soldier Boy hums. He sizes Homelander up for a few seconds. It seems like he’s considering your boss’s words. At least you think so until he slams his fist into Homelander’s face, sending the supe flying to the ground.

“Wow,” you whimper as it’s the first time someone managed to make Homelander bleed. “You just broke his face.”

“I’ll break even more if he doesn’t stay off my back,” Soldier Boy towers over your boss, smirking darkly. “Just you know. I’ll take your girl to my suite and fuck her so good she will forget your face, name, and that she was ever a fan of you. I’ll pay you the money she owes you back. Y/N is mine from now on.”

You squeal as Soldier Boy picks you up and throws you over his shoulder to carry you out of your room. “I’ll get her shit later,” you laugh as the cocky supe looks over his shoulder. “After I gave it to her good…”

>> Part 3

Tags in reblog.w

#The devil’s assistant (2) - Between enemies’ lines #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy fanfiction #billy butcher x reader #smut #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy #the boys fanfiction

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fertilize-my-eggs · 2 years

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Alright I made some links soo I was thinking about making more fanfics for anime masterlist and anime smutty promets so if you want requests charaters from any anime shows, I only know aot, jjk, spy x family, demon slayers and devil's line and bit of diabolik lovers . I will try my best even though this is mostly mha-bnha blog, I will still write it.

I notice there was few fics of anya's dad *loid forger* so I'm been thinking about writing him or yor forger coz they're both so finee~💕💕

Ooohh I got some ideas for this like maybe have poly relationship with reader maybe idk😏😏

I need to finish watching Haikyu!! Soon thoo like I got too many ideas lol ughhh

#anime #mha #bnha #fanfic #minors dni #smut #x reader #anime x reader #anime x you #aot #demon slayer #devils line #jjk #diabolik lovers #Haikyu!!#spy x family

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taexoxosgf · 2 months

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LEE MARK FIC REC LIST

s, smut | f, fluff | a, angst | suggestive is noted

give all these authors so much love please!!!! i had to include as much as possible!! supa long fic rec list ;) recommendation masterlist here

this is (not) easy *personal fav [ friends with benefits!mark x fem! reader ] s,f,a

sweet cream, cold brew [ nerd barista!mark x fem!reader ] s,f

raw. [ established relationship ] s

delphinium , part two [ virgin religious!mark x pagan reader ] s,f

the marriage and baby project [ fake dating au, roommate au ] s,f,a

sunday kind of love [ frat!mark x inexperienced/soft fem!reader ] s,f

flipside [ street racing au, strangers to lovers au ]

cherry flavored thoughts [ perv nerd!mark x popular fem!reader ] s

gorgeous [ college/football au ] s,f

follow through. [ bestfriends to lovers ft. haechan ] s

eyes on you. [ roommate's brother!mark x fem!reader ] s

watch me [ barista!mark x fem!reader, voyeurism ] s

pretty boy [ shy!mark x openminded/playful fem!reader ] s

surviving no nut november [ mark x fem! reader ft. haechan ] s

safety zone [ university au, best friends to lovers, roommates au ] f,a, suggestive

spider boy; 이민형 [ spiderman!mark x fem!reader, established relationship ] f, suggestive

closed doors. [brother's friend!mark x fem!reader, roommate au ] s

jealousy [ almost step-siblings au ] s,a

deal with it [ established relationship, argument au ] s

real talk [ line chef!mark x fuckgirl!reader ] s,f

on edge [ boyfriend's brother!mark x fem!reader, infedelity au ] s

play with me [ bestfriend!mark x fem! reader, car sex ] s,f

give me the greenlight [ street racing au, childhood friends to lovers ] s,f,a

nervously in love [ established relationship ] s,f

across the room *self promo hehe [ idol!mark x idol fem!reader ] s

roomie high [ stoner roommate!mark x fem!reader ] s

suck my kiss [mark x bandmate fem!reader ] s,f

may i be blunt? [stoner!mark x fem!reader ] s

the best man. [ stranger!mark x fem!reader, wedding au ] s

elevator pitch [ frat boy!mark x fem!reader ] f,a

craving you like the devil craves heaven [ priest!mark x succubus!reader ] s

kiss u right now [ best friend!mark x fem!reader ] s,f

this is new [ loss of virginity au ] s,f

rule breaker [ rockstar au, band au ] s

limit. [ gryffindor!mark x fem!reader ] s

mixtape moans. [ shy!mark x cheerleader!reader ] s

make me sin [ churchboy!mark x fem!reader, childhood friends au ] s,f,a

mark me in your heart [ drug dealer!mark x bartender!reader ] s,a

monetary value. [ rich kid!mark x rich kid!reader ] s,f,a

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impeakcharacterdesign · 5 months

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Just the Tip

— Thomas Hewitt x Fem!Reader —

MDNI!!!

Summary: It’s the 1960s and Luda Mae frowns upon premarital sex like any good Christian woman. You and Tommy are young, hot, and in love but the only problem is that Tommy was raised to wait until marriage and never lets you two go any further than kissing and some groping.

But the devil lives in the hot Texan sun and even God takes a break from the summer heat.

Notes: this is super short, just pure smut, self indulgent I’m obsessed with big boy Tommy 😭😭😭 i swear I’m working on part 2 of my sister Sinclair fic but Tommy has me in a choke hold and I needed an outlet.

No TW that I can think of other than bad smut and maybe ??? Coercion??? Cause Tommy wants to be a good boy and stop before y’all go too far but you flash him and then he’s absolutely 100% in. A bit of religious stuff, period typical sexism but vaguely. Let me know if I should add anything else and I’ll get right on it. Reader isn’t ever referred to using “she/her” pronouns but is described as having breasts and does have female genitalia so I tagged it fem reader to be safe

Enjoy!!!

The early morning sun burned, chasing away what little cool air remained of the night before. While the barn shaded you from the unforgiving sun and hid you from disapproving eyes — or lecherous in the case of the older men of the family — it also trapped in the heat your two bodies gave off.

Thomas pressed his open mouth to your own, tongue swiping over your teeth eager to taste you. Your hands gripped his dark hair, ruining any half-effort attempt he had made earlier in the day to smooth down his unruly hair. He held you in his arms, body pressed tightly against him in an attempt to get as close as possible, his large frame hiding you even further from prying eyes than the shadowed corners of the old barn. The kiss was deep and hungry and served as a brief respite from Luda Maes ever watching eyes. While she had been fine with you living with the family before you and Tommy were married, she forbade you from sharing a room or being intimate, a rule she absolutely refused to budge on and one that Uncle Charlie took a strange glee in ribbing you about. But much like the Texan heat, the heated looks you gave each other were unavoidable and only grew hotter as the summer days went on. Luda Mae wanted to wait until the following spring to make your union official but at the rate the town was drying up, there wouldn't even be a priest to officiate the ceremony, much less any guest to attend. You highly doubted anyone outside of the family would want to witness your union anyway but still, Luda Mae didn't want the few who would to get wise and start counting months.

These stolen moments in the barn were as good as you could get — and by god were they good.

Tommy’s large hands groped at your breasts, pawing roughy at your nipples through the worn fabric of your old dress. It wasn’t long before you found yourself in the familiar position of being sprawled out on the barn floor, coarse hay a discomfort you had long learned to endure for the sake of pleasure.

You desperately thrust your sex up onto his growing bulge, whining when he groaned and pinned your hips with his own, preventing you from getting your desired stimulation. “Please Tommy,” you beg, lips separating, “We don’t have to do too much, I just wanna touch you.” You press open-mouthed kisses to his neck, pulling softly at the flesh with your teeth and tongue dragging across the bites to taste the salt on his skin. Your hands eagerly worked to untuck his faded green shirt and wrap around him, roaming the vast expanse of his back. His whole body shuddered in your arms, an attempt to hold back from eating you whole.

You know Thomas will put an end to your romp soon, the tense lines of his shoulders and the way he shuts his eyes a sign that he's reaching his limit, that if you two don't stop now you won't be able to stop — but that’s exactly what you want.

You're tired of holding back, of this constant edging you have to endure when you’re in his presence and it gets harder every day. Just yesterday afternoon, Uncle Charlie sprayed Tommy with the hose, telling him that he was filthy and needed to get out of those clothes before he went inside. Watching as he undressed by the back door so that you could put his clothes on the line to dry had nearly given you a heatstroke — and if Charlie’s leering grin was any clue, you swear he did it on purpose in an attempt to rile you up. You ran off before you sinned right there in the yard, the memory of Thomas's shirt clinging to his arms, his chest glistening with water had kept you company well into the night.

So before Tommy puts a stop to your roll in the hay you make your move. You lift your dress up past your breast and expose yourself to him, you can see his breath stutter in his chest, this was quickly becoming the farthest you two had ever gone.

“Just watch me, Tommy, watch me,” you say breathlessly.

And he does, he sits on his haunches like a predator, his engorged cock straining against his pants and imagining just a taste has your tongue darting out to wet your lips, his gaze fixated on the movement.

Sliding your panties off your legs, your fingers dip briefly into your wet hole, gathering slick to rub onto your clit. At the very first touch, you let out a shuddering breath and you watch as his shoulders heave.

You begin rubbing your clit at an intense pace already turned on from the earlier heavy petting, not once breaking eye contact with Thomas as you do. With each moan you muffle you see his eyes grow darker with desire breathing with his mouth open as though he could taste your scent in the air. When he finally lets his cock spring free you let out your loudest moan yet. It’s better than you ever thought. His cock is thick and heavy, drooping slightly under its own weight but still undeniably firm. It curves slightly and you imagine that if it was inside you it would scrape against your walls in a way you've never been able to do with just your fingers.

Thomas grips his cock firmly and gives it a few tugs, eyes alternating between hungrily drinking in the sight of your blissed-out expression and your dripping pussy. You buck your hips, desperate to press your clit against your fingers and Thomas jerks his length even faster, rubbing his tip and spreading his precum on his hand.

God, you wished it was you that was touching him.

Thomas settles onto his knees and after a brief hesitation begins to shuffle closer to you. The sight of him crawling to you on his knees with his dripping length in hand made your pussy clench around nothing and you let out a whimper. You remove your fingers from your clit, feeling the heat radiating from his cock as he settles on top of you, legs spreading around his waist, your hips slightly raised and resting on his thighs.

The tip hesitantly pressed against your clit and your moan fills the small space before you can suppress it. This was better than you were hoping and it felt as though you were pressing against the boundaries the lord had set for you. Tommy’s eyes find yours looking for reassurance, asking without words, “Do you think this is okay?”

You find enough comprehension in your lust-addled brain to come up with a coherent answer, “It should be fine, I think,” you stammer out, “I mean, it’s not like — not like you’re putting it in so, it should be fine.”

You’re not overly familiar with the word of God outside of Sunday services and Luda Mae’s lectures, both of which you were forced to attend and spent tuning out in favor of watching the sweat build on Tommy’s brow while he worked through the window.

You think that if God could feel the weight of Thomas like you did, feel the heat like you could, you think he’d forgive the sin of your act.

It seems like that was all the reassurance that Thomas needed because no sooner than the words fumbled their way out of your mouth that he begins to drag the length of his cock against your slit.

God, if this is what hell was supposed to be like, burning and full of decadence, then perhaps you didn’t mind being a sinner.

The way he ruts against you is euphoric. Heavy breaths escape you both and you can’t help the words that spill from your lips.

“God, Tommy, I wish you would put it inside me,” you whine out “‘wanna feel your fat cock in my pussy, wanna get filled,” you might as well be begging at this point, and Tommy's increases his pace to the point that you think he wants the same thing, that he’s desperate to thrust into you rather than against you and —

And then the tip of his cock catches on your entrance and you both stop breathing.

“Maybe — Maybe it doesn’t count.” You stammer out, “It didn’t go in and it’s just the tip, and I don’t think that the tip counts” With the slightest twitch of his hips the tip of his cock has slipped inside.

"It's - it's just the tip it's fine” Your words sound empty even to you but the reassurance is all Tommy needs to push forward and let the head of his cock slide into your welcoming heat

His soul nearly leaves his body when he feels your raw pussy on the head of his cock. He jerks his length furiously and your fingers begin to move against your clit again, eager to meet your high with Thomas.

But it’s not enough. He was right there, right there just one push of his hips he’d be right where you needed him

“Please Tommy” Canting your hips slightly so the tip begins to dig deeper into you, you begin to plead once more, “wanna feel you fill me up, wanna remember the shape of your cock please”

Thomas feels years of control break at your words and with one swing of his hips, he bottoms out instantly. You feel like you've been punched in the gut as the air rushes out of you and you let out a sound like a wounded animal. Tommy stays still deep inside you, shaking and heaving, absolutely drunk on the feeling of your soaked walls clenching vigorously around his length.

You feel full in a way you've never thought possible. His length throbs, its girth stretching you in a way that burns.

When he finally starts thrusting, you’re not ready. He’s like a man possessed, solely focused on the feel of you around him, your skin pressed against his, his blood pounding in his ears.

“Wait— Tommy, ah, slow — slow down, oh god!” You can’t hold back your moans and he can’t stop, both fully engrossed in the feel of each other with no control over your own lust. Thomas crashes his lips onto yours in a halfhearted attempt to keep down your moans, it’s sloppy, clashing teeth and drooling tongues, spit escaping your lips, unlike any you’ve shared before.

This is completely different from what you’ve imagined your first time together would be like. It’s not your wedding night, you're laying on the dirty barn floor and there’s absolutely nothing gentle about the way Tommy is ravaging you. Your pussy is sopping wet and with every thrust, it lets out an embarrassing squelch, your juices and Tommy’s pre-cum leak down your ass and make a sticky mess in his dark pubes.

He doesn’t stop even as your walls spasm around him, cumming on his cock and digging your nails into his strong back. He works you through your orgasm even as your mouth clumsily forms the words to beg for him to slow down or to give you a moment. It’s too much, the sensations completely overloading your brain and all you can do is hold on tightly to him, lost in the ecstasy of your release.

Thomas lets out a deep, guttural groan as he cums, hips stuttering as he bullies his fat cock into the deepest part of your sex, filling you to the brim and your vision goes white.

Boneless, neither one of you makes a move to separate from the other, so thoroughly satisfied and content to lie where you are holding each other, Thomas’s softening cocking slipping out of you and spilling his release onto the ground.

His weight on you is comforting, you gently press kisses to his face and bask in the way his heavy breaths caress your sweaty skin.

“I love you.” You whisper into the shell of his ear and he squeezes you against him, repeating the words in his garbled voice the best he could. Your love is just for the two of you, no one else had a place in your world, no one else had the right to peak in on your affection or gawk at your differences.

This moment in time was just for the two of you.

“Thomas! Where the hell are ya, boy!”

Well, until Uncle Charlie’s voice brought you back down to reality.

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kasagia · 26 days

Text

Right hand

Pairing: Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!exBeneGesserit! reader Summary: You were his right-hand (wo)man after he saw you in combat during your training on the Bene Gesserit. He freed you from them and turned you from a Bene Gesserit into a faithful soldier who took care of all his dirty business. Getting rid of the bodies of the people he killed, organising opponents for him to fight, poor people on whom he could vent his anger and desire for bloodshed, or even concubines. You were his eyes and ears in the baron's court. You reported everything to him, being more effective than any Bene Gesserit. But he wants more... much more. Warning: 18+; violence; blood; Feyd Rautha; death; fight; brutality; smut; bathing together; dagger play; breeding kink? I guess; a lot things happening; my first time for Feyd so I'm a little nervous😅; enjoy!; Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist

It wasn't your choice to undergo Bene Gesserit training. Your mother abandoned you when you were a little baby and took you to these terrible women, leaving you to their mercy.

You hated them. Their entire organisation, which included planned breeding, aimed at creating the Kwisatz Haderach. To you, these women were a sick cult that you were reluctant to be a part of. You trembled with fear, thinking of the day when they would send you to extend the genetic line of a nobel family by lending your womb or to ensure that their plans succeeded.

However, you realised that you had little say in the matter. The Bene Gesserit would find you anywhere if you tried to run and hide. You were doomed to follow the orders of your crazy old reverend mother and wait in fear for the day when you could prove your usefulness.

But one day, you crossed paths with Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. And for a very long time, you considered it a real gift from fate. The first happy turn of events in your tragic life.

He was on a diplomatic mission. He was being shown around by the princess of your planet, and they happened to be attending the training of the Bene Gesserit sisters. You immediately caught his attention. Your movements were smoother, full of the passion of a true warrior. You charmed him so much that, at first, he thought you had put a spell on him. After seeing your potential and your obvious dislike for your sisters, he took you with him to Giedi Prime.

He faked your death so the Bene Gesserit sisters wouldn't come looking for you. He made you his right hand, his most trusted soldier. It was only after years of service under the Na-Baron that you realised that you had entered a much worse hell than any plans the Bene Gesserit had for you.

Feyd Rautha was supposed to be your personal devil. But first, you saw him as your saviour.

An animalistic, bloodthirsty scream resounds throughout the na-baron's private training room as his 'toy' falls dead under the blow she received from the furious man. You enter the room just as Feyd pierces him with his sword, causing drops of blood to land on your face.

You wipe them away, undeterred by the na-baron's brutality. Years of service had accustomed you to all the acts of cruelty he was capable of. At least this time, the dead man's entrails didn't spill around him. You hated calling his harpies to the feast. Despite so many years spent at the side of the baron's favourite nephew, you never got used to his concubines. They made you feel strangely uneasy.

"My lord, na-baron." You say, announcing your presence. Feyd breathes heavily and shifts his mad, furious gaze to you, not noticing your entrance until you speak.

You walk past the body, avoiding the pool of blood, and hand him a towel. He takes it from you without a word, wiping the sweat and blood from his head, chest, and back. You ignore his exposed muscles and kneel next to the man on whom he took out his anger, preparing to carry him out of the room before the next opponent/toy shows up.

"You were right. That old fool entrusted Arrakis to my brother. He will embarrass our family in one day. Ha! Even half is enough for him! This wretch doesn't know how to manage a small province, let alone an entire planet with fremen ready to attack at any corner." He says, rubbing himself furiously. He throws a towel into the corner of the room and walks to the table to pour himself something to drink.

"He gives him a chance to prove himself. When he wastes it, you will get it and prove to the baron and the lords that you are rightfully entitled to the title of baron." You say, securing the body so the guards at the door can carry it out.

"Every fool knows that. It's obvious that I'm a better choice than this scoundrel, who will sell the secrets of our family and swear allegiance to anyone who threatens his life. Baron throws a party in his honor. To the success of his mission. He's just doing it to piss me off. He doesn't give a damn about Rabban or whether he succeeds. This is just another of his tests on me. That's why you're coming with me. I've already sent for a dress for you." You look up at him with your surprised gaze. You're even more shocked when he reaches out his hand to help you up—something you didn't expect from him in his white, burning rage state.

"A dress?" You ask, taking his hand. You hold your breath, keeping yourself from gasping, as he lifts you off the floor with one strong pull. Unprepared, you bump completely onto his chest, not being able to keep your balance.

You freeze at the feeling of his muscled body close to yours. You can feel his heart pounding in his chest from the adrenaline he felt while killing this poor man. You tense up, seeing his icy-blue eyes already staring at yours. He starts giggling darkly as he presses you tighter against him so you can feel every muscle of his.

"Is there a problem? Would you prefer to come naked? I wouldn't mind, but…”

"I'm simply surprised that you want me there officially. I usually sneak there. I watch from the shadows. Well, you know." You interrupt me before he can insinuate anything, and with his silent permission, you move a decent distance away from him, leaving his arms.

You always had to be careful when making moves like this. You saw how he punished for minor offences, just for breathing. And you didn't run away from the Bene Gesserit with him to lose your life because of one of his… impulses. Although he has never put you in any serious danger, which was strangly amazing, since all of the servants who worked for him (and are still alive) have experienced his wrath on their bodies at least once.

"I know. But this time, I need you by my side. Not in hiding. My birthday is coming up—the most important of them all. I want to know what my uncle will come up with. Maybe you can find out something from the Lords. Besides, why wouldn't I want to have such beauty on my arm?"

"You want a woman by your side so you can humiliate your brother before he leaves? Perpetuate in him a sense of belief that you are superior, even if you don't have power over Arrakis right now?"

You see his hands tighten on his blades. You purse your lips, realising you were too quick to question his intentions. Basic mistake. You shouldn't have tested the waters when you knew Feyd was already on the end of his patience.

He takes a step towards you, entering your personal space. You swallow and lift your head to meet his gaze. This wasn't the first time he had intimidated you, tested you, carefully gauged your reaction, and waited until he finally saw the fear in your eyes. But you never gave him that satisfaction. If the Bene Gesserit taught you anything, it was that fear was weakness. A weakness you could tame... at least enough not to show it to anyone else.

So you endure his piercing, burning gaze with indifference. You stay like that even after a small smirk starts to appear on his face. You wonder how many people before you saw that smirk and stared into those night-black eyes on Giedi Prime as they passed from this world.

"That pink little tongue of yours will get you into trouble one day, my little witch." He purrs, his tone low and dangerous. He reaches up to your face with his free hand and gently runs his hand through your hair, caressing your cheek and jaw with the pad of his thumb. "Possible. I'm a na-baron... don't I deserve the best?" He looks defiantly at you, throwing you the proverbial gauntlet. He's waiting for you to stumble. For open defiance of his order.

You don't understand why, but he's been acting like this more and more lately. He made ambiguous comments, carefully watching your reaction. It was something new—a change in his behaviour that you hadn't figured out the reason for yet. But you had too much on your mind to think about it any longer.

"I can prepare you a beautiful concubine perfect for Giedi Prime standards." You suggest at which he shakes his head, laughing hoarsely. He turns his back to you and pours himself another glass of water.

"It's not necessary. I want you. Go and get ready. I'll join you in two hours when I'm done here." He says just as the door opens to reveal the soldiers you called for to take the body away and who have brought him a new drugged opponent. Feyd licks his lips, flips the blade up, and catches it, making a little show before lunging at his toy.

"As you wish, my na-baron." You say before leaving him to get ready for the party. Another warrior's scream echoes off the walls of the chamber as Feyd unleashes his anger on him.

You scan the room carefully, standing with your glass against the wall in a more crowded part of the room. You try your best to blend in with the crowd, but with your hair down, it's not that easy. Even if you try to cover your hair, you can feel people's curious gazes on you. But the worst ones are the burning gazes of the lords on you, some of them too lustful to be able to feel comfortable.

If you could, you would hide in the shadows, as usual, and observe them without being the centre of attention. You felt like a monkey in a circus or an exotic animal at an exhibition. The cold hand on your shoulder reminds you why you can't do this. You turn around to once again meet the na-baron's intense gaze today.

"You look good." He says as his eyes carefully scan the black latex dress with cutouts on the sides that reach down to your hipbones. "But I don't remember having that metal corset disguised as armour and that ridiculous chain veil sent to you along with the dress."

"I almost mistook this rag for a nightgown. I had to wear something on it. They think I'm your whore anyway; we don't have to prove it to them." You respond to his taunt and turn towards him. He is wearing black, formal armour, which is perfect as an official outfit.

"Do you find it scandalous to be my whore, little witch? Maybe even disgusting?" You meet his gaze to roll your eyes at him, at which he chuckles, wrapping his arms around your waist. You don't like this closeness, but there's nothing you can do to push his hand off of you. You are in public. Such a gesture towards him would be equivalent to a death sentence.

"I see nothing... honourable or good in being anyone's whore, my na-baron." You say, gently moving away from him so as not to lean on him as much.

"Have you seen anything noteworthy?" He asks, unfazed by your trying to move away from him. He pulls you up, wrapping his arms around your waist tighter and making your back rest against his chest. His fingertips brush against the exposed skin, caressing your hipbone.

You frown, turning your head to look at him. He's never been so... clingy before. He always respected your personal space and never touched you. You blame it on his desire to tease his brother, who is staring at you intently from across the room, and you shift your gaze to the people present at the party.

"Several lords congratulated your brother. However, there are rumours and beliefs that he will not be up to the task. Some also believe that you will slit his throat before his ship leaves for Arrakis."

"This idea crossed my mind. If you hadn't brought this information to me earlier, you would probably have had to deal with making the public believe in his… tragic and sudden death from natural causes."

"Natural causes; I wish I could see that." You scoff, finishing your drink. You turn around, leaving his arms, and set your glass down on the table. When you turn to him again, he holds out his hand for you to take.

"You'll see if you don't entertain me. I'm bored, and looking at this smug idiot isn't helping my patience or my ability to restrain myself. Dance with me, my little witch."

"You're interrupting my work." You complain, taking his hand. He leads you to the dance floor and spins you around, pulling you tight against his chest. He holds you close to him, perfectly placing his steps and moving to the beat of the music. He is as fluid in dancing as he is in fighting. Flawless as always.

"I'm your work. You are my right hand; you meet all my needs. I don't think I need to remind you of that, do I?" He asks in challenge, taking your chin between his two fingers as he looks at you carefully. You only smile at him in a sweet, artificial way. He laughs, fully aware of how fake this act is, and drops your chin.

Over the years, you discovered that he liked it when you teased him and responded to his taunts with your own. Of course, only when no one could hear it, and not very often. He had a reputation to uphold. He couldn't afford for anyone to see his right-hand (wo)man mocking him. Unbeknownst to you, he found it adorable the way your eyes lit up whenever you did something mischievous.

"Of course not, my na-baron."

"Good." He nods at your words. He takes his eyes off you for a moment and focuses on something behind your shoulder. He leans down, his cheek brushing against yours. You shiver at the sudden closeness, his scent becoming more distinct as you inhale it wholeheartedly. It's captivating. Sweet. Intoxicating. Dangerous. Just like him. "Do you have your daggers?" His hot whisper reaches your ear. He's so close, you can almost feel his full lips brush against your earlobe.

"Yes, why?" You ask, perfectly masking the tremble in your voice. But you doubt whether you can hide from him how your heartbeat speeds up. You blame it on the adrenaline rush. Not fear caused by his proximity.

"It seems to me that you will soon have to prove to these imbeciles once again why I chose you to be my right-hand man." He explains as the song ends.

You feel him reluctantly release you from his embrace and take a step away from you. You turn around and see his brother walking towards you, his right hand following him, giving you a mischievous look and a lecherous, mocking smile when he sees your outfit. You straighten up, lifting your head proudly at the man in a similar position to yours. The difference between you was that you served the stronger Harkonnen. It would give you an inviolably higher position if, like them, you had a penis between your legs.

"Brother. You finally brought your pet to play with us." Rabban says, nodding to his brother. You feel a wave of disgust as his gaze lingers on you longer.

Feyd tenses, furious, as his brother's eyes are all on you. You wouldn't have noticed if his hand hadn't been on your hip bone a moment later, hiding some of your exposed skin from his brother's eyes. You wonder what his problem might be. After all, he chose this dress for you by himself.

"Be careful. She doesn't have a muzzle. I would prefer that no harm come to you before you go to Arrakis. She's got some pretty... sharp teeth." He says it condescendingly, pulling you closer to him. In a perfect world, you'd kick them both in the groin. Unfortunately, you don't have that luxury. You can only imagine putting these two pseudo-alpha males in their place. But how sweet these dreams are...

"What about a small competition? My man against yours? Let's see what this mysterious beauty that you keep hidden can really do." Rabban's right-hand man gives you a cocky, confident look. He plays with the dagger in his hand, making a poor show that was intended to intimidate you. You roll your eyes behind your metal chain veil and shift your gaze to Feyd. You are only subject to his orders. Not some weak, pathetic creatures.

"This party is already dead. Do you want to kill also YOUR pet?" Feyd mocks him, and you almost break your unflappable, emotionless attitude, barely holding back your laughter. Na-baron sees this and smiles to himself, rubbing circles with the pad of his thumb on your hipbone.

"Are you afraid that she won't heat your bed anymore?" Feyd narrows his eyes at him. You feel his fingertips dig painfully into your hip as he tries to keep himself from lunging at his brother with the blade. You know full well that the eyes of the lords, the baron, and most of the people at the party are turned towards you.

"I have no doubt whatsoever about the outcome of this little skirmish. She will just sweat unnecessarily. And I would rather have her in full strength tonight." He says it in a mocking tone, shifting his gaze towards you. He licks his lips and tightens his grip to make his lewd intentions towards you clear to the two men.

Despite his famous reputation, he never touched you. Giedi Prime society might have thought otherwise, but in the years you had served as his right-hand man, he had never once taken you to bed or had you entertain him at night. You appreciated it immensely, which is why you accepted such behaviour from him without batting an eyelid whenever you were in public. It was all a game to maintain the reputation he had built over the years. Or so you thought.

"Feyd, boy, release your pet. Let her entertain us." The baron's words interrupt any skirmish that might have developed between the brothers.

It was not uncommon at Giedi Prime parties for soldiers to fight against each other to entertain the crowd. You just didn't think that you would have to fight someone during your first official arrival at the party. Although you should have anticipated such an unexpected turn of events. The baron and Rabban would not miss the opportunity to find out how much you were really worth and why Feyd, out of all the talented soldiers, chose the Bene Gesserit as his right-hand man.

You send a quick glance at Feyd. He gives you a small nod, so you bow to the baron and prepare to fight. The crowd around you parts to form a circle. You feel people's excitement as you flip the metal chains from your face to your hair, revealing more of your face. You wrap the shawl around your hair, tying it tighter and making sure it won't get in the way of your fight.

You look at your opponent, who is also preparing, trying to spot any of his weak points before the fight even begins. Rabban says something in his ear, which causes the manly smile to grow. Feyd stands in front of you, blocking your view of them. You look into his steel blue eyes as he leans towards you.

"Don't hold back." He whispers in your ear, handing you his blade. "And finish it quickly. We have other things to do."

You nod at him. He walks away from you, sending a mocking smirk at your opponent. He spreads his arms, taking a few steps back, as if inviting him to try his hand at you. You feel the burning gaze of his eyes on your back as you position yourself in front of the man.

"Don't worry, witch. If I win, I won't kill you. It's a shame to waste such a pretty face. I wonder if you're as good as the rumours say. Your pussy must be good to keep the na-baron entertained for so long." He says, waiting for you to activate your shield. But you don't do this. You want to completely humiliate him and give everyone in the room a clear message about your power and that you didn't secure your place just by having a pretty face. The crowd cheers, but you think you can hear Feyd growl furiously amidst the shouts of approval.

"I doubt you'll have the chance to find out." You say, and without waiting for his next words, you attack.

After the first few attacks, you figure out his tactics. He is physically strong, it's true, but that's his only advantage. It attacks you in a learned way, repeating its patterns. You read him quickly and position yourself to use his strength and mass against him. You could have walked up to him a long time ago and slit his throat, but you know it would be much better if you had some fun with him. You will show that you have complete control over the course of this fight.

You dodge the man's punches, and after a few minutes, you quickly get bored when you once again manage to kick him and send him to his knees. You take advantage of the moment he gets up from the floor to glance at your na-baron. Feyd doesn't look happy with your introduction. Of course, you see his interested look and how he appreciates your skills, but he doesn't look at you like he usually does. He doesn't wait with bated breath for your next move, like the crowd around you does. You can tell from his face that he wants you to finish this as soon as possible. You frown, surprised that he of all people doesn't enjoy watching the fight. You wonder what the hell is wrong with him.

Your moment of inattention is, of course, immediately exploited by your opponent. You manage to fend off the man's blade, but not his kick, which sends you landing on your butt on the floor. You feel rage more than pain; you only see red when you hear the cocky laugh of the man you are fighting with. You're so focused on driving the blade into his body that you don't notice Feyd's angry look, the murder in his eyes, and the desire to rip your opponent apart with his own hands as you fall to the floor. And you certainly don't see the trembling of his hand, as he instinctively wanted to grab you and pull you safely behind him.

You strike once, quickly driving the blade into the man's stomach and leaving it there. You push him to his knees, push away the hand that holds the sword, and reach for the dagger hidden in the sleeve of your dress. You strike a second time, piercing his shoulder. You stick the second dagger into his hand and knock the weapon out of his hand, taking it from him. You grab the man's throat in a tight grip and tilt his head back. You lean over him, a mocking smirk on your face as he struggles to breathe.

"I didn't even take off my high heels." You mocked him as you slit his throat.

You smile victoriously as you decapitate him. His head rolls at your feet, blood splattering your dress and face as you breathe heavily. You sigh, feeling your heart pound in your chest, as you bow to the crowd surrounding you as they shout and applaud you. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Rabban's sour, angry expression. You kick the head of his right hand towards him and give him a small smirk. You stand upright as you meet the eyes of your na-baron.

And then you saw it. Hunger in his eyes. Pure lust and desire, as his pupils were wide and solemnly focused on you.

You knew that gaze. He only looked like that at things he really wanted. Only his favourite concubines got THAT look from him or a beautiful, precisely made weapon that fit perfectly in his hands. Usually he had that look in his eyes right after the great battle he won. He would lock himself with his concubines and then spend long hours in his chambers, giving himself completely to his primal instincts.

You shiver as he walks towards you, ignoring anything else in the room. He grabs you tightly by the throat, and, to the delight of the drunken crowd who are screaming madly with excitement after the show you had made, he kisses you.

It is hard, hungry, and passionate. His hand completely removes the metal chains and shawl that were covering your head, and he pulls you to him as close as possible. His grip on your hair and throat is tight as he demands that your mouth be opened for him by biting your lower lip. You moan involuntarily, causing his tongue to slip into your mouth, as he is exploring new territory with a zeal you've never seen from him.

He pulls away from you when you're completely out of breath. Your vision is blurry, your heart is pounding from the adrenaline of the fight, and you can only stare at him stupidly and blankly while trying to understand what just happened.

Your eyes widen as he licks his lips, lust still burning in his eyes as he takes in your panting form and swollen, red lips. A trickle of blood drips from your mouth after he bit into it a few minutes ago. As you taste your blood on your tongue, you realise the terrifying truth.

Feyd Rautha Harkonnen desired you.

Feyd strokes your neck, which is still in his tight grip. His eyes travel from your lips to your neck, to your collarbones, to the valley of your breasts, and to your hips, which were starting to bruise from how tightly he held them in the moments before your fight. Suddenly, everything starts to fall into place for you. His strange, unusual behaviour, the flirtatious comments, the long stares, and his more frequent attempts to hold you close to him and touch your exposed skin are starting to make sense.

You were screwed.

Completely and utterly fucked up.

You've been avoiding him since that night. More than any Reverend Mother or Bene Gesserit. Which was a very difficult task, considering how many things you had to do as his right hand.

But, luckily, you managed to avoid being alone with him. Of course, it couldn't last long. You knew him very well, and you knew that eventually he would try something and come for you. But you tried to deceive yourself by living the lie that his desire would pass and his concubines would effectively take care of him.

If he noticed your attempts to stay away from him, he never mentioned it. Of course, he chased after you when he saw you walking alone down the hall, but you never gave him a chance to catch up with you. He may have grown up here, but you knew the palace like the back of your hand. And all the nooks and crannies you could hide in from him.

So you actually managed not to get close to him for a very long time. Until it was time to train a unit of soldiers directly subordinate to him.

"Y/N!!!" You're sure all of Giedi Prime could have heard his scream. You sigh, calming down as you continue your walk to the arena. You step out into the black sun, carefully watching the men training. You walk up to him and bow to him.

"My lord na-baron." You say it politely, unfazed by the fact that he's practically seething with rage. You were more used to dealing with him like this than when he was horny... or worse, kind. You would turn on your shield if you knew it wouldn't make him fall over the edge and start murdering everyone he could.

"Take your blade. None of these piles of useless muscles know basic defensive moves. Look, you all! You have to learn this by the end of the day, or next time you will enter this arena as my opponent!" He walks over to one of them, probably to either stab him or adjust his position, leaving you to get ready. You tie your hair up so it doesn't bother you during a fight and choose your blade.

You gasp in surprise when you are suddenly pushed. You turn around quickly, trying to keep your balance as you face the na-baron. You move your hand to activate your shield, but his voice stops you:

"Don't. I have to show them how to do it. No shield." You know he's lying, and that's not why he doesn't want you to turn on your shield, but you don't say anything. You just nod and prepare to get into a defensive position.

He attacks you quickly. Very quickly. You've trained with him before, and you have to admit, he's never been this… brutal with you.

You go through different positions with him until you finally stop following the textbook fighting patterns and start fighting seriously. You keep up with his movements for a long time, blocking his blade with yours and dodging attacks that you have no physical ability to block, but he keeps pressing against you, not letting you rest or trying to return the favour with one of your attacks.

You gasp in surprise when he trips you, sending you to the ground. You block his swing at you with your blade and kneel in the sand, trying to get up, but he's pressing too hard against you with his sword for you to move. You use all your strength to push him away from you. Feyd growls, throwing his sword aside, and simply lunges at you. You're too shocked to do anything as he snatches the blade from your hand and sits on top of you.

You fight him, sending both of you rolling in the sand. Eventually, he gets impatient and wraps his hand around your throat. You take a hoarse breath as he blocks your airway. You grab his hand around your neck and try to pull it away. You dig your nails into his palm, but he remains unmoved, pinning you to the sand.

He leans closer to you, and you take the opportunity to wrap your hand around his neck. He laughs, showing you his black teeth as he practically lays on top of you. His erection presses hard against your thigh as he grinds against you, grunting as he too begins to feel the need for air... and something more. You see black spots in front of your eyes, and you feel tears welling up in your eyes as you struggle to breathe.

You let go of his neck completely, your hand falling next to your head, and you desperately try to use the remaining air to try and use your Bene Gesserit voice on him. But before you try to say anything, he loosens his grip so you can breathe, but his fingers are still lightly holding your neck.

Too busy breathing, you don't notice how he tilts his face towards you. Only when you feel his tongue on your neck do you realise how close he is to you. You freeze when he runs his tongue from your neck, from jaw to cheek, to taste your tears. You hear him moan softly. To confirm that your brain, stunned by lack of oxygen, didn't make it all up on its own, he rubs against you, and his hardness in his pants is clearly felt by you.

You just fucking hope he doesn't fuck you in front of those soldiers.

You meet his black eyes with yours. You shiver as he leans in, his bare chest pressed completely against you as he whispers into your ear.

"Damn you, witch... if you taste as sweet as your tears..." He growls. You feel dizzy, and you're not sure if it's because of the heat of the moment, the fact that he cut you off from oxygen for a while, or because you're overwhelmed by his scent and the warmth that radiates from the two of you.

You thank whoever is above you as he finally pulls away from you and stands up. He gives you his hand and helps you stand on your two feet. The soldiers obediently look at the ground, not daring to face the na-baron's gaze. You swallow hard, pulling your hand from his grasp.

Feyd barks orders at them, herding them back to training. You breathe a sigh of relief when he stops paying attention to you. You use your shawl to wipe his saliva and your sweat from your neck. You take your blade and are about to leave the arena to do the rest of your duties. But a tight grip on your wrist stops you. You tense up and turn around to face him again.

"Y/N." He murmurs, watching you carefully. You're sure that bruises are starting to appear on your neck from his tight squeeze. "Come to my chambers tonight." A cold shiver runs through you, but all you can do is nod and watch his retreating figure as he leaves to continue the training.

You hoped he didn't mean what you thought he meant by that... invitation. Otherwise, this could be your last night on Giedi Prime or the last night of your life. You're not sure yet.

For the first time, you feel fear as you walk to his chambers. He had called for you at such times before, but it never occurred to you that he wanted to do with you something else than discuss with you matters that were related to the Giedi Prime Court, the baron's plans, or other political matters and plots.

You shudder, wondering what might be waiting behind that door. You saw the condition in which some of his concubines left him. You didn't want to become one of them; you didn't want to be reduced to being his lover. It was fine as it was. You felt very good as his shadow, ears, and eyes. You liked conspiring together with him, making plans, and that hrill each time you managed to take down the enemies that were standing in your way. He was supposed to be your savior, not your persecutor. Were you that naive from the beginning, or has everything started going to shit recently?

The guards let you through without saying a word. With your heart pounding, you enter his chambers.

He's sitting on the bed. His harpies finish taking off his clothes, and at first you want to back away, but as soon as his gaze meets yours, you freeze. Feyd snaps at one of them. She hands him a glass of his wine while the others look at you furiously.

"Leave." He tells them, never taking his eyes off you. The women look at each other, not wanting to leave him, especially leave him alone with you. You guess that if it weren't for Feyd's presence, they would have attacked you long ago, trying to eat you before their master got a chance to touch you. Disgust arouses in you as you think that you may be soon reduced to their role and turned into one of them. "I said something." He growls at them, shifting his gaze from you to give them an angry glare.

The harpies are going out obediently, but they are not wasting an opportunity to hiss at you as they pass you to get to the exit. You hear one of them scream in pain as Feyd suddenly throws a knife at them right before they close the door behind them.

You were more used to his brutal reflexes than to his tender gestures. You actually preferred him being aggressive more. At least you could have predicted his movement. That's why you didn't even blink when he threw a blade at his pets.

"You wanted to see me." You start when you are alone. If you could impress him with anything other than your fighting skills and the ability to obtain various information by staying in the shadows, it would be that you never showed fear or insecurity. At least not to those who don't know you. Almost no one could read you. Almost.

However, Feyd saw that you were behaving differently. But he was tired of controlling himself around you. He couldn't do it anymore after tasting your lips, tasting your skin mixed with tears, and feeling your curves press against him. He wanted more. Much more than he ever got from you. And he was going to take it, whether you wanted it or not. He won't go crazy with lust for you... or at least not with as much longing for you each night as he used to.

"I did..." He stands up, and you're grateful he's at least wearing underwear as he walks over to his bar and pours a second glass of wine. He hands it to you and taps it with his own. He takes a few sips and looks at you. After a while, he sits down on his bed again and swirls his glass, playing with the remains of the wine. "Baron wants me to find a wife." He announces calmly, staring at you intently as he finishes his wine with one big sip.

You almost choke on your drink. You place your glass on the table and meet the careful gaze of his cold, blue eyes. You feel yourself starting to get hot with nerves.

"I beg you pardon?" You ask, still reeling from the shock of this sudden information.

"He wants me to find a broodmare who will bear my heirs since I am getting close to the appropriate age." He repeats, standing up gracefully. He approaches you, his steps slow and measured, as if he were approaching his prey in an arena. And for a moment, that's exactly how you feel. But you show no fear or any other emotion as he stops a few inches in front of you. You straighten up, your muscles tensing as you think about any answer.

"I… I can make the necessary preparations and check which high families…"

"Strip." He orders you. His tone is hoarse, leaving no room for any objection. He talks just as if he were asking you to pass him the dagger rather than to stand naked in front of him. As if it was an order he carried out every day and something you should be used to following.

"What?" You ask stupidly, unable to process what he said to you in your head.

"Have you gone deaf? Undress. Take your clothes off." He repeats mockingly. He crosses his arms, takes a few steps back, and leans against the wooden post of his bed as he watches you carefully, waiting for you to either obey his order or openly disobey him, giving him the opportunity to punish you... as if he even needed a reason to do so.

"My na-baron, I..."

"Exactly, Y/N. I am your na-baron. So follow my order. Now. I'm not in the mood for our games. You think I haven't noticed you've been playing hide-and-seek lately? I have given much worse punishments for such disobedience and attempts at self-indulgence. Take your clothes off, or I'll rip them from you."

For a moment, there is a deathly silence in his chambers. Only your breathing can be heard as you try to find any way out of this situation. But you can't think of anything. Your mind is empty, your hands are shaking a little, and all you can do is look at him, silently begging him to change his mind. A frown of impatience appears on his forehead, and you know you have to do something before he gets irritated and cuts you with one of his blades.

You sigh softly as you reach for the laces of your shirt. You take your time, slowly untying your bindings. Feyd devours every bit of skin you expose to him, and you swear you hear him hold his breath as your shirt lands on the floor. You get out of your shoes and socks very slowly.

Luckily, he doesn't comment on it and lets you get out of his clothes at your own pace. He knows he will win anyway. Tonight, he will finally stop playing cat and mouse with you and put his hands on what is rightfully his. So he savours every moment, making a plan in his head for what he will do to you tonight for this small act of rebellion.

He licks his lips as you stand in front of him in nothing but black underwear. His eyes take in your every curve, skin lesions, and scars that mark your warrior body. Oh yes. He was going to enjoy this night and finally unwrap his early birthday present.

"Good girl. You know where the bathroom is, right?" Without waiting for your response, he goes there, expecting you to follow him.

You swallow hard. You're glad that at least you managed to stay in your underwear and that you're not completely naked in front of him. You get out of your pile of clothes and leisurely follow him to the bathroom.

As soon as you enter, the door closes itself behind you. You sigh, the sweet smell of bath salts reaching your nostrils. But you don't feel so relaxed when the coolness of the bathroom and the black marble you stand barefoot on make you shiver and your nipples harden.

The na-baron's dark chuckle catches your attention. He's in a large, black bathtub, his hands resting on its edges as he enjoys the warm water, watching you closely, a spark of amusement shining in his icy blue eyes. He looks like a vulture waiting for the best moment to kill his prey.

"It had been a long day. Join me." He says, lifting his hand for you to take and step into the tub.

Having no choice, you obediently reach for his hand and release it as quickly as you can, sitting on the other side of the bathtub with your legs tucked under you so as not to accidentally touch him. He laughs, shaking his head in amusement.

"Not so far, my little mouse. Closer. I won't bite… well, not yet."

"I'm not a mouse." You snap at him. If you're going to die, at least die with dignity. Blinded by your anger at him, you sit on his lap before you can think it through. It's only his hardness pressing against your ass that makes you realize what a mistake you've made. You don't show your discomfort, though; you even lean against his chest, letting your head rest on his shoulder.

He laughs softly, wrapping his arms around you just as the skin of your back meets his chest. You feel like you're in a cage, even though he's trying to calm you down by lazily drawing patterns on the skin of your arms. Your underwear soaks up the water and sticks to you, making you feel even more uncomfortable.

"Hand me my dagger."

You much prefer receiving such orders from him. You get up from the bathtub to get away from him for a moment, but he stops you by grabbing your hips tightly. He shakes his head and nods towards the dagger, which is literally at his fingertips. You bite your lip, keeping yourself from talking back at him, and reach for the weapon, handing it to him. You do this carefully, not wanting to cut the skin of your fingertips with the very sharp blade.

He cuts through the fabric of your bra with surgical grace. You gasp in outrage but don't move, knowing full well that you are only millimetres away from him taking your blood. You don't have to turn around to know he's smiling cockily as he traces the tip of his dagger across your skin to your panties.

"You know I can take it off by myself?" You ask as he traces patterns with the tip of his dagger on your stomach, around your navel. You hold your breath as he rests his chin on your shoulder and pulls you closer to him, rubbing against your still-clothed ass. You learn the hard way that the rumours about his... greatness were true.

"You had your chance at the beginning, now it's my turn. You're lucky that I'm not taking it off of you with my teeth anyway." He growls in your ear. You shiver as he presses a wet kiss on your shoulder, peppering kisses on your skin, down to your neck, and down to your jawbone before he rests his chin on your shoulder again.

"Sorry for interrupting your fun, my na-baron." You growl as he hooks the tip of his dagger against the fabric of your panties.

"No worries; you will compensate me in another way." He says, cutting your panties. He throws them behind him and lazily presses the dagger against your jawbone, forcing you to turn your head to look at him.

You meet his blue eyes with yours. His irises are practically non-existent, giving way entirely to his dilated, black pupils. He stares at you hungrily, licking his lips. He looks lost and indecisive, as if he didn't know what to do first.

His other hand, the one not holding the dagger pressed against your neck and jaw, explores your body, caressing your skin as if it were some kind of precious silk. You sigh as he cups your breast, which, of course, fits perfectly in his hand. You want to punch him in the face, but the dagger at your throat reminds you that one wrong move could cost you dearly. So you take his hand in yours instead, stopping him from over-exploring.

"You know... I tried to stay away from you. From the first moment I saw you... fighting with those daggers of yours... you're not as graceful in dancing as you are with them in your hands, taking down all your enemies. But you are Bene Gesserit. I know you're dangerous. So damn dangerous... if I were anyone else, you'd use your voice on me and tell me to castrate myself. Or you could make me magically disappear by throwing myself off some tall tower just because I thwarted your plans or looked at you wrong. Surprised? You may live in the shadows, my little witch, but I won't miss anything you do. You know I have trouble controlling myself... so how can I do that when you're so damn irresistible? The fact that I've endured all these years and not gotten close to you the way I wanted—the way I dreamed so many times at night—is quite a success, don't you think?"

He massages your breast, playing with it. You bite your lip, holding back a moan as he pinches your nipple. He leans closer to you, pressing his nose against your neck and inhaling your scent deeply. He removes his hand from your breast and moves your connected body along your body. You gasp, tightening your grip on his as he brushes your clit gently with his fingertip.

"I… I should go." You mumble, squirming in his grip, which is, of course, pointless and only makes him groan in pleasure as your ass rubs against his hard, leaking member.

"Stay. You won't oppose your na-baron, will you?" The bastard knows well that you won't openly oppose him, and he uses it as best he can. He moves your joined hands to his length, forcing you to wrap your hand around him. He hisses, pressing the blade closer to your throat and tightening his grip on your hand as he guides yours along his length the way he wants. "Your skin is so soft… and that beautiful hair that you needlessly hide… you don't know how many times I imagined pulling you by it." He mumbles into your neck. The hand with the dagger now presses against your chest, only causing your heart to beat much faster. A wave of heat washes over you, your traitorous pussy clenching desperately as you hear his moans in your ear.

"Feyd..." You moan as his hand releases yours and works at your desperate pussy. He growls, feeling the warmth of your walls around his fingers and the wetness he caused. You remove your hand from his member and tighten your grip on his hand, trying to push him away from your private parts in a desperate attempt to regain control of the situation.

"Don't fight. Just give yourself to me, Y/N. Let me show you how much you've lost while trying to hide yourself from me in your shadows…" He growls, pressing the tip of the dagger to your nipple. You freeze, moaning as he becomes stiffened by the sheer movement of his blade.

He bites into your neck, making you moan loudly and throwing your head back. He licks and sucks your neck, rubbing his painfully hard cock against your pussy. The water splashes around you, some of it spilling out of the tub due to his sudden movements. A few inches deeper, and he would have slammed into you, bisecting you with his huge cock, which stood ready for you from the moment he saw you in your underwear.

"Can you feel it? Can you feel what you're doing to me? How hard I am because of you? It's like this every time you hand me my blade, perfectly balanced and sharpened, every time you meet all my needs without even communicating with me, you just know what I want by looking at me, my little witch. So tell me, who is a better partner for me than my right hand? Who can I trust more than you? Who should I fuck, full of my heirs, if not you?"

You don't respond; you can't find any words as your brain desperately tries to shout out the pleasure he's giving you and force you to resist him. Unsuccessfully. The warmth of the water, his body, his scent, and his precise, deliberate movements cut off your thoughts. Feyd is practically salivating at the sight of you so lost in lust and desire as he witnesses you lose control for the first time.

He throws away the dagger, which falls with a crash onto the marble floor. Neither of you care as he grabs your hips and, in one smooth, quick movement, turns you around so you can face him.

You only have time to draw in a quick breath before he demands your mouth. You moan into his lips as he kisses you with the same passion and intensity as he did a few weeks ago at the party after you won the fight. You try to pull away from him, but he holds you tightly, placing his hands on your back as he presses you against him. You don't stand a chance against his strength. You can resist him, but you know it won't be long before you collapse from exhaustion. You bite his lip until you draw blood, which only causes him to groan and have him grind against you, the tip of his cock teasing your entrance.

You gasp as he leaves your lips for a while and pulls your hair, exposing your throat to him so he can mark it even more. He sucks on your skin, littering it with hickeys as you feel him slowly move, positioning himself beneath you so that his member presses against the entrance of your pussy.

And just as he's about to join your bodies, to make you two one, to feel your hot, wet, tight walls around him, there's a knock on the bathroom door.

This time, he's the one who freezes, tightening his hold on you. You feel like he's making sure he hasn't misheard or imagined it in this heated moment between you, but when the knocking sounds a second time, he realises it's real.

You pray with gratitude for the soul of the fool who dared to interrupt him, because you know that even if it were something important, he would not live to see the morning.

"What?!" He growls furiously, not letting you go, not letting you move an inch from him, still believing that he can quickly get rid of the intruder and go back to ravaging you, maybe even fucking you while he talks to whoever is standing in front of that damned door. Though Feyd preferred to be fully focused on you when he took you for the first time. However, he was convinced that if he didn't feel you around him soon, he would go crazy. He is so close... all he had to do was push a little more...

"My lord na-baron. The Baron wants to see you. It's very important."

You see pure rage bubbling in his eyes. He growls, shifting you from his lap as he stands up. You look down as you see all of him very clearly, especially what you were exposed to a few moments ago. He throws a towel at you, and you automatically catch it. He wraps one around his waist before he comes back to you again and grabs your throat. He gives you a crazy, passionate kiss, stroking your neck and appreciating the marks he made before pulling away from you.

"We'll come back to it, little witch." He leaves you with that promise, closing the door behind him with a bang.

You hear him shouting something at his harpies, and you shudder at the thought of having to walk past them to get out of here. You lean back against the tub, still sitting in the now-cold water, as you slowly process everything that happened.

You succeeded this time, but you know you won't be so lucky next time. You could either accept... your new responsibilities and his expectations of you, or you could try to break free from him, risking your life.

It was a decision to be made in the privacy of your own chambers. For now, you let yourself lie in the cool water, fully aware that if you weren't interrupted now, he would fuck you silly, likely planting his seed inside you.

You ran away from the Bene Gesserit with him because you didn't want to be a whore, a vessel for their crazy breeding plan. Apparently, you just changed the owner of your womb. You had to do something if you didn't want to end up as originally intended—as the mother of the future Kwisatz Haderach.

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vivalabunbun · 4 months

Text

An Encore of Betrayal

Summary: The devil with no sin nor memory and he who has held them all for centuries.

Word Count: 21.8k (get cozy)

Tags: Neuvillette x Fem!Reader, Slow burn, Slow fic, SMUT, NSFW, Historical AU, Fantasy AU?, Reincarnation AU, cursed!neuvillette, dragon!neuvillette, reincarnated!Reader, human!reader, Fluff, a lot of fluff, Melusines doing their best to play cupid, ex-lovers to lovers, slight enemies to lovers? ANGST, he's trying his best, dragon x human dynamics, Monsterfucking (two... I have no defense), cunnilingus(long tongue), marking, size kink? breeding kink, heat, overstimulation, hate sex? kinda?, slightly unhealthy dynamics (past life), dubcon, trust issues, immortal x mortal, slightly possessive!neuvillette, slightly yandere!neuvillette, TW: mild mention of blood, TW: descriptions of drowning, sin, and sacrifice. TW: Trauma from betrayal, themes of resentment, Infertility.

Author's Note: Wanted to try out a historical fantasy from Neuvillette's pov. I struggle with fantastical settings, so overlook any world-building confusion. Mihoyo won't give me his real name, and it's eating away at my sanity. Enjoy!

Somewhere deep beneath the waves, away from the omnipotent watch of false divinity, lies a village. A bustling home carved into an outcast cove nestled under the cover of suppressive tides.

One littered with tiny houses surrounding an impressive estate modeled much like the ones seen in those novels abandoned from capsized ships.

Would you believe that such a place exists?

Decorated with curious trinkets which sunk beneath the surface which had forsaken them, kept in this cove for so long that it was challenging to remember the azure hues.

Ornaments decorating the expanse of this once lonesome cave, almost enough to conceal its true origin: A prison.

A fool sentenced to this penitentiary masquerading as a home, now affectionately named ‘Merusea Village’.

Within that attentively built estate, a looming figure stood in front of a wall lined with neatly organized novels, lilac eyes running along the titles printed along each spine.

A collection saved from watery abandonment after falling overboard by the curious hands of Melusines. Amassed throughout the years until the shelves of this humble library were without vacancy.

Stopping a finger on a spine, he decided on the novel to pass the ever-plenty time bestowed upon him. He’s aware that each book amongst these shelves has been thumbed through by him.

But with enough years, the recollection of the contents contained within each one tends to become foggy.

It's fate that the novel selected in his hands just so happens to be a collection of tales.

Humans have many strange behaviors, one might even call them traditions. One particular tradition mortals seem to indulge in often is that of storytelling.

Lilac eyes browse through the pages, refreshing himself on the tale held within its faded covers.

----------

There once was a lovely kingdom amidst lush pastures and fertile lands where the townspeople sang and danced under the bright sunlight.

But one day the sun disappeared, concealed behind ashen clouds that cried a lonesome hymn, plaguing the unfortunate kingdom with rain.

The origin of the rain stemmed from the lonesomeness of a great dragon of water.

Thus, to stop the rain, the king sent out a princess to the dragon, declaring that the kingdom gates wouldn’t welcome her back if rain fell from the sky. She was sent off in a white gown.

Down below a flooded loch, the princess was offered to the weeping dragon. Looking up the princess saw the sorrowful pools in the beast’s eyes.

‘Hydro Dragon, oh Hydro Dragon, why do you cry?’ She asked.

Intrigued by the bravery of the young princess, the dragon answered: ‘Because I am lonely, I have no brethren left.’

Feeling pity the princess responded: ‘Hydro Dragon, oh Hydro Dragon, don’t cry. I will be lonely with you.’

So the princess befriended a lonesome dragon under the hymn of softening rain, with his loneliness soothed, the sun peeked back out from ashen clouds. But one day, pitiful tears fell from her eyes and the princess wept so bitterly.

The dragon could not bear seeing those tears stain her cheeks. He offered her pearls, jewels, and gold. Yet those bitter tears still fell, tainting the pristine water.

‘Beloved princess, why do you cry so bitterly?’ He implored.

‘I long to go home, I miss my kingdom,’ she revealed.

But she could not go home, for if she stepped foot away from the riverside the lonesome rain would start again. The colossal dragon could not leave the loch, but he could not bear seeing those bitter tears.

So he relented, telling the princess a secret. A secret all dragons buried deep within: His true name.

‘If you speak my name, my true name, then I can grant you one wish. But be careful, for there can only be one wish.’ The dragon whispered.

‘Do you wish to return to your kingdom, beloved princess?’ He asked.

The princess was silent for a long while, weighing the choices in her hand. She longed to return home, but she also longed to be by the side of her kind dragon.

Confident in her decision, she beckons the great dragon closer, until her lips could reach the side of his large head where his ear lay. After whispering his name, she tells the beast her wish.

‘I wish for you to become my prince, so we can return to the kingdom together, that way you won’t ever be lonely again.’

A clever wish he grants with a nod. Scales and claws shedding away until a handsome prince stood in front of her. Thus, hand in hand they returned from the loch to the warm welcome of the kingdom.

And they lived happily ever after.

----------

Ah, so it was that tale.

Judging from the age of the novel, he guesses it must be a rendition of a rendition.

Words and events twisted, embellished, and simplified. Until it became nothing more than a mere fable told to entertain the wandering minds of children.

A beloved tale of a maiden who got a dragon to give up his grand authority, stopping the flood of vengeance from drowning Fontaine.

This is what the origin of his damnation has turned into. The tales of the heroine’s feats sung and written throughout the narrative of time, passing from one generation’s lips to another’s ears.

However, he supposes this is expected of humans. It’s their tradition of storytelling, after all, mending a fallacy into a tale palatable to their conscious.

Or perhaps, these embellishments were added to compensate for the hollows caused by the frailty of mortal memory.

Patching over the holes with flowery words to distract readers from inaccuracies that were only compounded upon from the last.

Fontainians who came to believe in it, must not have known the dragon all that well, considering that they thought the proud dragon would bow to the whims of a meek human.

Placing a secret so simply in her hands at the mere sight of tears.

Did Fontainians not realize that the land they reside on once belonged solely to dragons? How preposterous it is that a sovereign couldn’t set foot upon his own land. Or did they forget why he couldn’t?

What a naive ending, did mortals truly believe that blood and water could dwell together without consequences? That simply wishing the dragon to become a human could resolve all troubles?

To overwrite everything with a ‘happily ever after’ which never happened?

Regardless of his reservations toward such fables, the Melusines always seem eager to gather around for such stories. The towering figure lacked the conviction to deny such requests.

From down the hall approaching closer came the pitter-patter of steps, he turned his tall frame toward the direction of the sound just as a few familiar faces revealed themselves from the library entrance.

“Monsieur Neuvillette! Come quickly! A human! A human appeared!” A group of Melusines tugs on the fabric of his slacks while pointing toward the phenomenon.

A mortal in this domain? A cavern hidden deep under the land and waters where the warmth of the sun couldn’t grace. How did such a being find their way into this sanctum? It’d be best that he alleviates their worries.

“Please lead the way.” Neuvillette closes the novel, returning it to the confines of its shelf.

His swift movements in time with the melusines’ frantic patter as they made their way out from his estate.

Soon the tops of the Melusines’ cozy homes of Merusea Village came into view, as did the murmuring of a distraught crowd.

“Excuse me.” His steps made their presence known, their heads perked up to look at him before parting a path for Neuvillette.

Upon the maroon pasture of Merusea Village was a blanket of silk and woven lace, snowy fabric surrounding the still figure of a human.

Treading closer Neuvillette kneels down while reaching out a hand, weaving his fingers under the fabric which obscures the mortal’s face.

“We found her while gathering offerings from the waters … Is she…” The anxious murmuring quiets to await his verdict.

“She has a pulse,” he reveals, fingertips detecting wisps of warmth along cold skin.

It was faint, but his attentive eyes caught onto the slow movement of her chest. The snowy fabric had greedily drunk up the essence of the sea. Cursing her to sink deeper below the tides.

To leave a mortal in such a state would be too cruel of a fate.

Neuvillette moves his hand to support her covered head as his other arm gathers the damp fabric under her legs.

Carefully, he stands back to his full height, cradling her limp body in his hold. An audience of fretful gazes follow his motions.

“Do not fret, she only requires some rest and a change of clothing, I’ll take her to my abode. Could you gather some cloth to dry down her body?” Neuvillette’s melodic voice just barely above a whisper, so as not to stir the figure in his arms.

His expression softens to offer the compassionate creatures some reassurance. With firm nods the Melusines scatter, determination alight in their bright irises as they sought the necessary items to care for their newfound guest.

The dampness of the heavy fabric seeps into his own attire as Neuvillette turns the knob to grant him entry into his abode.

Quietly ambling through the spacious halls, the master bedroom came into view. Neuvillette lays the limp form upon his sheets, ensuring that her head rests slowly upon the soft pillows.

Just as her figure sinks into the mattress, a chorus of metallic clinks catches his attention. Glancing down her body his lilac eyes discover the origin.

A pair of silver shackles encased around her ankles, the unforgiving metal digging into defenseless flesh.

Gingerly, he takes one ankle into his grasp to better observe the shackles.

This time he couldn’t fight against the deep frown as it debuted upon his lips. His eyes hone on how tightly those heavy chains were bound along the flesh.

Soon the unforgiving metal crashes down to the floor, he soothes the freed skin with his thumb while checking for any other possible wounds.

Lilac eyes travel up to her face for any sign of discomfort, only to be reminded that her face was concealed behind a shroud of lace.

How uncomfortable it must be to have a cold piece of fabric to cover one’s face. Neuvillette places her ankle back onto the bed.

His large hands took hold of the damp veil to lift it from her resting frame, revealing to his draconic eyes for the first time their face.

The veil stays suspended in the air as his hands cease all motion. Hardened gaze tracing over her features, the curve of her cheeks, the slope of her nose, and the structure of her face.

Repeated details he had long seared into his consciousness.

Within those mortal tales, there’s a wide variety of beasts and fearsome creatures. Dragons were depicted as such omnipotent beasts. But there’s a monster all other beast falls secondary to, the devil.

They didn’t possess the sharpest talons nor the largest fangs. No, what made them so horrifying is that they dawned the most enchanting faces.

He’s staring at it right now. The face of the devil who deceived him.

Those gods must be laughing at him right now. Those false idols, with their capricious fate and whims, who once must’ve shook hands with you to carry out their schemes all those years ago.

The scheme which imprisons him here in this humiliating form of the mortal creatures those false idols loved so much.

Yes, a devil, that must be what you are. For how did a meek mortal trick a dragon who once held the full authority of the tides?

His chest expands with a deep breath before a long exhale leaves him. Ah, yes that must be why this white gown has appeared before him again. He removes the senseless scrap of lace, checking once more for signs of discomfort before he turns his body away.

Finding himself outside the threshold of his bedroom as he closes the door behind him. He should wait here for the Melusines to arrive with a change of clothes and towels.

It’d buy him enough time to steadily return the tempestuous loch to a subdued ripple in a pond. His chest expands once more with a deep inhale.

A second cruel rendition unfolding once more in the narrative of time.

The crisp turn of a page resounds through the room. Lilac eyes glanced up from the text every so often to watch the steady rises and falls of your chest from his vantage point of a wooden chair pulled up to the bedside.

Heavy lashes still shut just as they were the day your drenched figure was pulled from the tides by merciful hands.

The journey to wisdom is lined with mistakes, mistakes providing teachings one must ingrain into their very being if they don’t wish to repeat such blunders again.

Just as how a burn seared into skin is a forever reminder that fire indeed burns indiscriminately.

A scar ingrained deep within him cries out for Neuvillette to withdraw from the fire which scorned him so long ago.

Alas, it’s duty which has sat him down beside your sleeping form. You’re the first guest this cove has seen in a long time, thus bringing you under the responsibility of the host, Neuvillette himself.

A stir brings his stoic gaze back away from his thoughts. Your chest rises with a long inhale as leaden lashes flutter open.

The cadence of your breaths begins to rise as more of your senses return to you. Fatigue evident in each slow drag of breath.

“Ah, I see you’ve awoken.” Neuvillette observes.

Your muscles momentarily forget their fatigue as your head snaps toward the owner of the deep voice. Eyes now wide and alert.

“My apologies, it wasn’t my intention to startle you.” He casts a glance toward the steaming bowl on the nightstand.

He could feel the weight of your stare travels up his figure. Do you perhaps remember him? Can you recall his lush snowy locks streaked with azure? Irises that held an all too familiar hue, a multitude of lilac shades much like a field of lavenders.

Does this ‘you’ remember the dragon you fooled?

“W-who are you?...” Your gaze was too cowardly to meet his.

Ah, have the cycle of death and rebirth washed those sins and memories?

The tonality of your trembling voice filled with puzzlement instead of recognition. He should’ve expected this much.

This you is nothing more than a stranger who shares the face of a devil.

“Where am I?” Another question leaves those lips in the absence of a response.

Just give him a moment, allow him to pacify the surging torrent within so their bitterness doesn’t seep into his words.

“You’re in our village!” A cheery voice joins the conversation.

Two pairs of eyes land upon a short figure with a pair of pastel horns. You blink once, then twice, then slowly thrice. Inquisitive eyes stared right back at you.

“W-what… are you?” Instinct commanding your body to retract deeper into the sheets.

A sharp cough halts your actions, drawing your attention back to the man as he lowers his hand down from his lips.

“She’s a Melusine, they prefer to be addressed using she/her pronouns,” he elucidates, an ever so subtle chastise in his tone.

“Oh…” You advert your gaze again, shame creeping onto your cheeks from your unintentional discourtesy.

A few breaths of silence follow, he observes you studying everything but the two figures just beside the bed.

Your fingers soothing over the soft cotton nightgown against your skin, a change from that restrictive and ornate dress.

“We, Melusines, helped you change out of that wet dress. Big sister Sedene said you’d get sick if we left you in that.”

It looks like your diverted gaze wasn’t as subtle as you originally thought. Sheepishly you extend your gratitude.

“Thank you…” Your words draw out, a brow quirked as your stare reminded on her short form.

“Kiara!” She points to herself with a mitten hand.

“Thank you, Kiara.” You finish.

Her mittened hand then gestures to the towering man beside her.

“This is Monsieur Neuvillette! He’s the one who carried you here,” she announces.

“T-thank you, Monsieur Neuvillette.” You could only gather the courage to glance at the wall behind him.

“Just Neuvillette is fine,” his tone melodic and calm. “Are you able to sit up?”

Nodding your head, you attempt to fight through the fatigue of your muscles. Neuvillette and Kirara offer their assistance, his firm hands guiding your body up as Kirara adjusts the pillows to support your back.

Once you were situated, he reached for the bowl placed down earlier. A light clink sounds out from a spoon clattering about the porcelain dish. You glance at the contents, noting the clear amber broth.

“This should be kind on your stomach while providing you with some much-needed hydration and nutrients.” He holds out the soup.

A quivering hand attempts to reach up for the bowl, only for muscles to lose to fatigue as your arm limply falls back down to your side. Your strength has yet to return.

Another clink from the spoon resounds in the room as it gets taken into the grasp of an attentive hand. He holds out a spoonful of the warm soup, but your lips remain shut as a skeptical gaze meets his.

“Please forgive this inconvenience, but it’s best that you eat something to regain your strength.” The spoon remains unmoving in his hand.

There’s a rumbling stir within him. A voice snarls into his ear, interrogating him as to why his hand is feeding the very devil who once bit it.

“If you don’t eat you won’t get better.” Kiara’s eyes are riddled with concern as she observes your sealed lips.

That was his rebuttal to that snarl.

The Melusines simply don’t wish to see a human in such a pitiful state. Blissful in their ignorance of events that conspired long before their birth.

Dignity overpowered by the guilt of seeing such pure eyes marred with worry.

Soon your lips part, accepting the spoonful of broth delicately offered by him. After he observes you swallowing the first sip, Neuvillette holds out another spoonful. You part your lips again.

Neuvillette overrides the clamorous warnings of his instincts with the duty of being a ‘good host’, bringing another sip to your delicate lips.

With a regular diet of warm broth with servings of Bulle Fruit on the side, you were soon able to pick up the spoon yourself. The fatigue that plagued your bones finally leaves, allowing you to support your body off the mattress which had your shape imprinted into it.

The Melusines, seemingly born infatuated with humanity, would often gather about your bed.

They were curious about you just as you were about them. To them, you’re the creature from those fairytales he’s read them.

In exchange for your recollections of warm Summer days and descriptions of lush lilac fields swaying in a gentle breeze, they reveal more about this village.

About how the estate you were currently residing in was refurbished by their own-mittened hands, taking inspiration from the various books depicting what human abodes looked like.

The beds, drapes, and even rugs are all arranged by them to create a lovely abode. A drastic change to the worn and rampaged shell it once was before their meddling.

Perhaps if he never filled their naive minds with those tales, they wouldn’t be enamored with you and humanity.

Or maybe it’s the vibrance of your smile that drew their naive souls closer. A warmth like a flickering candlelight beckoning a moth closer.

What are the odds that the hands of fate stayed so faithful to the details of a heroine from so long ago?

From your image to your bewitching mannerisms, and alluring voice, they’re all identical replicas. You and the ‘devil’ from that tale.

Wisdom from a lesson learned long ago, he must not repeat the same mistake. He must not be enchanted by the same flame which scorned him. He must ensure a breadth between you and him, just as those tiresome voices call for.

However, Neuvillette understands he has a responsibility as a host. Thus, he regularly checked on your condition, then when you were well enough to stretch your legs he accompanied you on strolls. Maintaining a respectable distance away.

He guided you through the marble halls of the estate, showing the library and bath which were yours to access whenever you wanted.

Rooms illuminated with the muted glow of luminescence gems and pearls. Water sourced from a hidden freshwater spring.

Impassive eyes observe yours as you look in awe at the facilities and commendations hidden deep under the tides. Were they comparable to the ones you’ve encountered back on the surface?

This estate, these wide stone halls, those pearls and jewels once scattered about, were all made just to please the bitter tears of a mortal. Perhaps his first attempt was too subpar to quell the longing to return to the sunlight.

But gauging from the glimmer reflecting off your eyes, it seems the Melusines attempt was satisfactory at least.

Today’s stroll took you outside of the estate, Neuvillette accompanying you about a routine walk, watching from behind as your eyes scan the dim realm.

The lanterns lining the path of Melusine's home grace the maroon pastures and rocky walls in place of the faint wisps of sunlight offered by the depths of the sea.

Very much expected for a village beneath the waves and earth. Were you reminiscing about the warm grace of the sun you felt up there?

It’s not fair to compare the vast sky of the surface to their cavern hidden away from the eyes of the mortals, perhaps even the divine themselves.

“Monsieur Neuvillette?” You began today’s attempt at a conversation.

“Yes?” He hums in acknowledgment.

He keeps sentences brief, but informative. Counters to your attempts at conversation.

“I’m aware this might sound strange, but is there a dragon down here?” Turning back to face him.

His strides stop as a lull of silence falls over the both of you. The weight of his unshaken gaze upon your shoulders caused them to tense up.

Your hands find each other for comfort under his oppressive stare as he awaits the reason behind this odd inquiry.

“W-well you see, Fontaine has been having awful weather for years now. Saltwater running crops and persistent heavy rain, it’s because the Hydro Dragon is crying from his loneliness. I was selected and offered as his bride, to stop the rain, that’s what The Oratrice instructed,” you babble out.

“So…do you know where he is?” Sheepishly you glance up.

The lilac hues of his eyes connect with yours as his lips remain unmoving. Staring into your eyes as he contemplates what you have just revealed to him. Your hands fumble together as you await his response.

“So humans are still telling that local legend…” He sighs.

He has to rein it back. The torrent which threatens to brew within him. Deep breaths to remind himself about the nature of mortals.

Humans are fickle and meek creatures who constantly yearn for something divine to worship, a figurehead to guide them in the turbulence of life.

When faced with hardship and destitution, they believe such concepts to be punishment from above.

Thus, they invent traditions to appease those false idols. Going to great lengths in attempts to pacify those unseen forces, even if it meant sacrificing one of their own.

Perhaps this was the trait of mortals that made them so favored by the usurpers, their naive devotion feeding into the greed of selfish gods.

Maybe that’s why those false idols uprooted the land that belonged to dragons.

“I wonder just how far that fable has spread by now,” he sighs again.

His lashes flutter shut in exasperation as a huff leaves him. It was a moment before they flutter back open to hone in on you. There’s no use in keeping his identity from you any longer.

“Do I seem lonely in your eyes?” Baritone voice steady and low.

No sounds fall from your agape lips as your eyes reexamine his features, this time shamelessly ogling the peculiar details you’ve brushed off previously.

Do you notice it now? How his ears were a bit too pointed, or those two particular cerulean strands of ‘hair’ poking out from his snowy locks.

As you study the specifics of his eyes, do you now comprehend the sharp dark pupils that cut through the multitude of lilac shades? Much like a shadow cutting through a field of lavenders.

“You’re the Hydro Dragon,” you deduce.

He nods in confirmation. Only causing your eyes to scan over him again as your mind reels back from this revelation.

In those stories you’ve read back on the surface, how did they depict him? As a towering scaled beast with fangs and claws? Are you wondering why he’s not matching that description?

“I’m aware that my current shape might not convey such a presence, ” he answers your unspoken question.

He fights for his lips to remain stoic, not allowing the weight of a frown to pull them down. You don’t know, you don’t need to know, he reminds himself.

A detail excluded from the pages of that tale, the ‘princess’ would only ever look at him, would only ever smile at him when a dragon took on this shape. A form which mirrors humans.

In fact, she was so fond of this human shell of his that she cursed him to dwell within it for the rest of eternity.

Neuvillette takes another deep breath, quelling the stir once more. You look like you had more questions.

“So… does that mean the need for a bride is fictitious?” You clutch your hands tighter.

Some years ago, the Melusines were born from spilled blood. A new generation of successors of the brethren he once forsaken. Making this prison much less lonesome, voiding the accuracy of the sentence in that tale.

If that was the case, then why did the waters still rage? Why did the pittering of rain drown out all bird songs and tumults of perplexed citizens? Is there a way he could simplify the details missed by storytellers for generations?

After that ‘happily ever after’, a dragon cursed his devil just as she cursed him.

No, such expositions would be an unfair burden upon your shoulders.

“It’s not fictitious.” Turning to gaze out at the depths of the underground realm, he takes a breath before continuing.

“The land which your nation, Fontaine, resides on is stolen land,” he reveals. “More accurately all of what you know as ‘Teyvat’ was stolen from the dragons, my fellow brethren.”

The furrow in your brows deepens as you listen on.

“My brethren were banished to the depths for the sake of humanity. A dragon’s rage isn’t something that can be easily quelled.” He glances back at you.

“A union between a dragon and a human, a show of peace between the two species. Even if the origins of this ritual have been embellished heavily, it serves the same purpose to pacify the ancient dragon’s rage,” he concludes.

Neuvillette wonders if this tale was enough to satisfy your inquiry, if his attempt at the human practice was enough to simplify the events muddled and twisted by time.

Impassive eyes scan over your expression, not missing the glimmer ever so bright within.

“So… has the rain stopped?” Your hands almost clasped together in prayer.

He nods, the shine growing ever so luminous in those blameless irises, one he couldn’t resist the enchantment of. That all too familiar look in your eyes.

“That’s good.” A slow smile made its appearance upon plush lips.

Ah. He remembers what that look was called, voices of recollection pulling him away from the edge. Just before he fell into bewitchment once more.

That look wasn’t relief, nor was it salvation. It's duty. He takes a slow and deep inhale.

Just as it was all those years ago, the narrative of this tale did not stray away from the plot. He must be more careful.

There’s been a still lull engulfing the atmosphere down in a hidden cavern. So still in fact that walks amongst maroon patches of grass have stopped. Your body was well enough to explore the corners of the state without assistance.

No reason for him to remain by your side throughout the day, and no reason for you to shadow him.

Neuvillette and you keeping mostly to one’s self. It was just the natural progression of things. After all, the ritual had been completed and the tides had receded. You’ve served your duty once more.

A foreign aroma was wafting through the estate, strange enough for Neuvillette to leave the library to investigate the origins of this aroma.

Steps slowing as the clacker of pots and pans becomes more distinct. The entrance of the estate kitchen comes into view, and he peers in to see a few familiar faces.

“Oh? Monsieur!” Rhemia notices his presence.

An assortment of vegetables, spices, and even some meats from fresh catches were spread about the table as a pan sizzling over a crackling fire.

Ingredients gathered from offering dropped down below the tides. The recent influx could be attributed to how the hymn of the rain has ceased.

“Hello, Monsieur Neuvillette.” Your smile greets him.

Ah, he’s found the explanation behind the foreign aroma and why the variety spread of ingredients was being utilized in a kitchen that was once mainly created just to match those diagrams drawn in novels.

“I hope you don’t mind my use of the kitchen, I wanted something other than…Consomme Purete.” Wiping your hands with a rag.

Yes, Consomme Purete.

It was the dish served when you had first woken up, a light but nutritious soup that was kind on your stomach. It had the right amount of hydration balanced with nutrients to sustain oneself, a perfect dish.

The only dish cooked in this kitchen, that was until today.

Removing a pan from the heat, you carefully transfer the contents onto a plate then place the pan back on the wood stove.

The rich aroma caused an audience of bright-eyed stares from the Melusines to center upon the steaming plate. Their tails make their excitement clear as they gaze upon a dish they’ve never seen before.

Was this a new passion of this life?... Or was it just one he never got the chance to witness?

Was this the devil before the role of a bride was forced upon her? A devil he’s never known, for all he saw was her performance to stop the deafening rain all those years ago.

His attention was brought back as the chime of cutlery against porcelain was heard, cooked veggies stabbed between the teeth of a fork.

Cupping a hand under the fork, your body leans down to the Melusine’s height, feeding them a bite of the fragrant dish. The wags of their tails increase in cadence as they chew.

“This is Tasses Ragout, tasty isn’t it?” The corners of your lips curl as you watch their little heads nod eagerly.

The suspicion melts from his gaze as he observes to the delight in their expressions, a few mitten hands tugging at the skirt of your gown for a bite. A giggle bubbles from your throat.

A scene mirroring that of a mother trying to appease the appetites of her ravenous young.

Soon your eyes connect and he straightens his posture. Brushing away the nonsensical musing, lilac hue advert away momentarily to recompose themselves before returning.

“Would you like a taste?” A fork offered in his direction, beckoning closer to take a bite.

There’s a myth he’s read about, of a forbidden apple held out by the tempter of all tempters, an apple so red and lustrous it made any mouth salivate.

“Thank you for the offer, however, I’ve already had my lunch.” He refrains.

A bite from that forbidden fruit was the genesis of disgrace and banishment. A betrayal of commandments once promised. Neuvillette won’t be deceived again.

--------------------------------------------------------------

“Monsieur! Monsieur! Come look!”

Mittened hands grasping upon his coat and gloved hands as a circle of Melusines guides him through the winding halls, anticipation amping their voices.

There’s a chorus of giggles resounding through the halls, a joyous clamor of pattering steps against the marble floors.

The estate has been lively ever since your arrival in that white dress, a liveness which reaches his pointed ears even from behind closed doors.

Regardless, he allows himself to be towed by their skipping steps. Leading him to a room he recognizes as a space where many fabrics and gowns were collected and stored.

Garments made with the intent to be sold to Fontainians, but their crates were capsized over by the ravenous tides. Saved from watery abandonment by curious hands.

While this form of his could wear a few of those garments, the Melusines had statures much too short for pools of fabric to not drag along the ground. Thus, that collection of fabrics found themselves collecting dust.

Their steps abruptly stop just at the threshold of the door, mittened hands pressed up against their lips signaling for him to remain silent.

Soon their sights glance into the room as he follows, lilac eyes opening ever so slightly wider as they process the scene in front of him.

Evening gowns crafted by skilled tailors to be sold to Fontanian ladies, you had the right frame for those garments as well.

A trail of lustrous sapphire silk gathered behind your figure. The artistic stitching and pleating draping the silk around each curve of your body as if you were the only person meant to wear it.

A few Melusines fussing about the silk train, ever so curious of humanity, they must’ve requested for you to dawn the gown.

Just as they often had requested for him to dawn those fickle suits and coats for their enjoyment.

It seems you bent to their childish whims just as he does.

“How do you like it?” You ask your audience, twirling about in front of a mirror.

It’s different from those hardier dresses for when you wandered about the village and estate, in comparison this dress was much less practical.

“It’s beautiful, Madame!” Their round eyes were enamored.

“I’m glad, who knew you had such an aesthetic eye.” Your expression softens.

Bending down to Carole’s height, you scooped her up. Cradling her as your forehead touches her horns gently.

“Thank you for such a lovely dress.” Placing tender pats along her head, careful to not disturb her horns and hair.

Carole leans into your touch as your smile widens. Twirling once more with her in your arms, giggles ringing throughout the room.

Until your head peeked up, finally aware of the silent spectator just behind the door frame.

“Oh, hello Neuvillette,” you greet him with a smile he doesn’t return.

A tense lull creeps in, and a chill begins to mix with the quiet atmosphere. Lilac eyes pass over your form as Carole remains sat in your arms.

“Monsieur! Isn’t Madame pretty? Look!” Cheery and oblivious voices chime returning the warmth to the air.

Mitten hands release your skirt as they skitter toward his towering figure. Pride shines in their beaming smiles, awaiting validation of their handy work.

Steadfast eyes lowering themselves to the level of their short statures until the sharp edges gradually dissipate.

“A fine effort indeed.” A gloved hand extends to rest atop their heads.

Patting their heads tenderly as they closed their eyes in contentment

A warmth in those lilac hues, endearment no word could ever encapsulate fully.

“Are they your daughters?” Your head slants to the side.

His body stills, strictness reinstated in those violet irises just as they met yours. Studying that look within your polite smile, one which didn’t seem to reach your eyes.

Gloved hand ceasing all movement, his concentration now elsewhere. That expression ghosting your face, what does it mean?

“My apologies, was it too impudent of a question?” Your gaze adverts away, searching for reprieve in this heavy hush.

A deep breath as he formulates his response.

“I don’t share blood with them if that’s what you’re inquiring. However, they are the successors of my brethren.”

“Oh, I see,” you hum.

Neuvillette returns to patting their heads, while you readjust your hold on Carole. Subtly bouncing her, while turning back to face the standing mirror.

Casting a glance, he could discern the softness returning to that polite smile. Yet, the dragon has yet to unravel that luster in your irises.

An audience of bright eyes switches between the Monsieur and Madame.

--------------------------------------------------------------

“Bring these to her, you should greet the Madame!” Tiny hands push against Neuvillette’s back.

The traitorous clicks of his shoes against marble expose his approach.

Your head peers up from the book resting upon your lap, in the midst of reading a tale aloud to an audience.

Just in time to catch the tall figure of Neuvillette emerging into the library at the behest of the Melusines.

Lilac eyes meet yours ever so briefly before his gaze averts elsewhere. Gloved hand adjusting a bundle hidden a broad back, brings the other hand up to clear his throat.

“The Melusines found these when retrieving some offerings from the water, I believe you’ll enjoy them.” He presents their trinket.

A simple collection of dainty petals clustered together, pastel hues contrast against vivid virescent leaves. A quaint ribbon tied around the stems holding the bunch together held out in front of your face.

The recipient stares in round-eyed astonishment at the fragrant blooms before a smile melts into your lips.

“Thank you.” You accept the bouquet from his hand.

Admiring the rustic arrangement and the saccharine aroma as the Melusines sat around you leaned in closer to catch a whiff too.

“These are called Pluie Lotus up on the surface, they smell nice right?” Giggling lightly as you held the bouquet closer to their noses.

Grin ever present upon your lips as your soft eyes watch their marvel of such simple weeds. A bloom foreign to this realm abandoned by the sunlight.

There’s subtle slack in his posture, a budding smile just about to unfold just as your head peers back up. Every fiber in Neuvillette’s being tenses, goosebumps slithering up his nape.

Frozen there only able to witness your eyes study back and forth the hues of his irises and the periwinkle color tinting the fragile petals.

He watches an epiphany light up in your widened eyes as the bouquet was lifted higher, turning back to face him.

Don’t. Don’t say the words he knows are hanging off the tip of that honeyed tongue.

“They are the same lovely color as your eyes, Neuvillette.” You beam at him, the corners of your eyes crinkling from the stretch of your lips.

His posture returns to its rigid and upright state, a hand hidden from view balls up into a fist.

A sharpness threatening to break through leather confines and into his palm, as if they were attempting to grapple the surging torrent stirred up within himself.

Why? Why was this line from a script being recited word for every damn word? All said with that saccharine smile plastered over those wicked lips?

Indecipherable eyes narrow ever so slightly before he catches himself. Reining in the torrent just before it seethed out.

He clears his throat again to swallow back the bitterness.

“Do excuse me, please return to your reading session,” he utters his parting.

Promptly turning to return to his secludedness, stepping past the Melusines gathered by his side.

Swift strides through the empty halls leaving you to your peace and him to his peace, just as it should’ve been. Much to the pouts of a disappointed audience.

However, he didn’t have the mind to contemplate their discontent. Not when these rabid bellows drown out every other thought in their rancor.

Like a sea starved for vengeance, ravenous to settle a debt against those vile gods and their beloved creations.

A brass knob was abruptly twisted, hinges squealing in surprise as at the force as Neuvillette shuts it behind himself.

Ragged breathes resounding through the reprieve of his bedroom. Away from innocent bystanders and the devil who showed her face again after all these centuries for an encore.

Has he not been humiliated enough? He tugs at his cravat, freeing himself from the fickle decoration constricted about his neck in this already imprisoning body.

A form which binded him no matter how violently talons and fangs clawed and chewed, unable to leave a singular dent upon this damn curse.

This was humiliating enough, bound to this cove that separated him from the sea which cries for their sovereign.

He once believed this penitentiary was obscured away from the peeking eyes of capricious gods. Perhaps, he’s wrong.

Why is this fantasy being played out right in front of his eyes now after all these years?

To have you by his side, to have you reside in the home he craved out and inlaid pearls into, to see you smile and cradle young against your bodice. It’s insulting.

Because this was all he ever wanted. This was all he had ever wanted.

The lonesome dragon only ever yearned for a maiden’s endearment. He once believed she adored him back just the same.

Because while she lay within his arms under silken covers, her bare skin pressed against his mortal shape, her enchanting eyes always regarded him with such tenderness as her delicate hand stroked his cheek.

A glimmer he once believed was love.

The tale written along the parchment implied that the ‘princess’ loved the dragon. However, that was inaccurate. She never did.

For if she loved him, then she wouldn’t have deceived him.

She wouldn’t have ever whispered his secret to the town’s folk. Those foul creatures who then used his secret, which was once reserved solely for ‘you’.

Why? That simple question taunted him for decades as he rotted in this mocking solitude.

Why did ‘you’ yearn for the sun more than him? Was his love not enough to replace the warmth of a star? Was the home he made not enough when compared to the extravagance of humanity?

Or was it because blood and water, no matter how much they intertwine and mix, could never produce wine?

If… if the Melusines had been born just a few centuries earlier, then would you have been satisfied by his side? An answer he could already discern.

Because after his decades of solitude within these deridingly hushed walls, he finally accepted the truth.

She loved her people, they took up all the space of her heart, leaving no room for a prideful leviathan.

What a clever plan it all was, to distract a sovereign from his duty, cleansing stolen land with a flood of vengeance, by sending a maiden.

A woman so bewitching, so enchanting, and so lovely, that a proud dragon couldn’t resist bending to her whims. Spilling the secret hidden deep within him into her ear.

Abandoning his true form to be confined in the shape she favored the most. Then lured up to the surface, suspicions obstructed by the dazzlement of a false welcome from the nation of Fontaine.

Unaware until the scorching knife was already lodged in his back. Using the secret he had only ever told you, those meek creatures of the usurpers wished:

‘For the rest of one’s life, one shall never leave this cave deep beneath the tides’.

What a clever ploy, a masterly crafted master plan. Did that Oratrice bestow it upon mortals? Or was it your own little scheme? A devil in human skin who must’ve been enlisted by the god themselves.

That day when he was chained by that loch, you didn’t even bother to grace him with your presence.

You cruel, cruel devil whose heart only had room for her fellow citizens of Fontaine, whose eyes only ever glimmered with duty.

Neuvillette had finally comprehended the truth, he had made peace with the disgrace he brought upon himself.

So why did those vile false gods dangle you back in his face? They had already taken fragments of his authority.

Was his torment entertaining to them?

Lungs shaking with unsteady breaths, he could feel the pricks of scales dotted along his skin only for this body to swiftly reject it. A turmoil of draconic influence constrained by a mortal curse.

Like a beast kept in a cage much too small for it. If Neuvillette wishes for this agitation to cease, he must cease the stirred emotions.

Emotions don’t settle quickly once agitated like sand attempting to settle at the bottom of violent tides. He paces his shuddery inhales, biding in the solitude of his room until the storm dissipates.

To avoid the placid lake within him from thrashing violently to the woes from the throb of a wound which has yet to scar over, Neuvillette found it best to avoid your presence.

The lanterns outside the Melusine’s homes had long gone out as they followed their routine bedtime.

The expanse of the cavern dimmed to near blackness, the small creatures all tucked away soundly in their beds. A hushed ambiance provides a suitable environment for reflection.

His steps flatten the grass underneath as they accompany his strides with their rustling.

The absence of light had never bothered him, it’s within his nature to detest it. Any beast would withdraw away from the mere image of fire.

The rustle of the grass halts, a wispy aroma of smoke wafts towards him. It doesn’t take long to identify the origin. Only a small flicker broke through the shadows, candlewick fostering only a weak flame.

But it was enough to fend the shadows away from your frame.

The flame’s light caught on each subtle ripple of the pond you were kneeling over.

The seemingly unremarkable pool served as the sole entrance and exit to Merusea Village. Where the Melusines traveled through to gather food, fresh water, and trinkets swallowed up by the waves.

Cold waters catch the bitter droplets of your pained eyes in the reflection of the ripples upon the surface, the distorted silhouette of a weeping devil.

An unspoken gospel revealed to draconic pupils.

Under the rich aromas wafting from the kitchen, behind the diligently tailored gowns, and hidden in the cadence of your voice as you read tales aloud, laid the yearning for the rays of a bright star.

You’re human, a creature fleeting and meek by nature. Blood yearns to be with blood just as every drop of rain yearns to return to a cloud.

A sharp rustle of grass under a heavy step jolts your hunched-over posture straight, head whipping around to face the uninvited audience.

Once those weeping eyes recognize the brooding figure in front of them, your face adverts away from his direction. Shame evident upon your expression.

A concerned hand reaches out only to retract away, contrition marring his shut lips as Neuvillette diverts his eyes too.

Fire burns indiscriminately, even the dancing flame of a candle can sear its mark upon skin. Neuvillette knows this all too well, for the lesion he received from embracing that flame once still festers even after all these years.

However, lilac eyes pan back towards the orange glow illuminating your melancholic face. Warm hues contrast against the wet trails down your cheeks. There’s an ache more agonizing than a festering wound.

His steps advanced closer until he was knelt down by your slump frame. A benevolent touch lands upon your shoulder. Guiding you away from the taunting waters and into his arms, hiding your face in his broad shoulder.

Offering you a semblance of warmth in a coven shunned from the grace of gentle sunlight.

With your face away from his gaze, the cacophony of your sobs returns, digging your fingers into the folds of his dress shirt.

Echoed back mockingly by the cold cavern walls.

Perhaps a foolish dragon has yet to learn his lesson, still lured in that the brilliant light of a flame.

A gentle hand traces up along your back, softly brushing your hair away to reveal the skin of your nape to his sharp pupils.

Honed in upon untainted skin, the courts of rebirth may have removed the proof of your damnation, but not the hex itself.

Or maybe, a foolish dragon feels some responsibility for being the one to curse you to this fate.

A mark once imprinted upon your nape by a lonesome dragon, a heavy oath sworn to you engrained into the very fabric of your soul amidst the first rendition.

One which then became the cursed chains that sunk you under the unforgiving waters.

It’s said that love is heavy, a weight greater than the density of water. A heaviness which could sink anything and everyone under salty tides.

A heaviness originating from this accursed prison where a disgraced being resided.

Even as the earth above welcomed new generations as they said goodbye to bygone times.

The solitude of a fool turning into ravenous waves which seeped into soil until its appetite was satiated by the return of its beloved treasure.

It’s his fault that the tides stole you from the sunlight.

The courts of rebirth had already forgiven you of this burden, not a single memory remaining of that tale.

What right does he have to place it back upon you? There’s no point in punishing one for a sin that had been cleansed by the tides of time.

You didn’t deserve to be held away from the warmth of a benevolent sun.

To have been dragged down below to these depths. To have been stolen away from the warmth of the sun by the command of fickles gods and ancient grudges.

It’s much too severe of a sentence for you, someone who didn’t deserve to repent for a sin that wasn’t truly yours.

Is it okay for his hands to wipe away your tears when this cursed dragon was the cause of your agony?

Even if it’s wrong, Neuvillette holds you closer. Even if he didn’t have the right, he pressed your face in his shoulder. Allowing the vehemence of your tears to scorch his skin as you buried your cries into him.

Glancing at the pool you had been leaning over, he watches as the ripples of the surface taunt you and him the same.

Two beings whose bodies couldn’t embrace the tides. Two cursed beings who’ve been trapped in repeated play.

“It seems you’re bound to this prison as well.” He scorns those gods and ancient grudges, but he scorns himself the most.

Confined behind a human face and a human body, a traitor who’s lost his birthright over the waters who couldn’t welcome him.

How can a cursed dragon quell those choking sobs of yours? How can he atone for his selfish sin?

Neuvillette takes a deep breath just your tears continue to soak his skin. Steeling his resolve, he meditates on the one resolution he can offer you.

“Fontainians still tell a tale about a princess who wished a dragon to become a prince, yes?” He begins.

After a pause filled with hiccups and shaky breaths, you nod your head as an answer.

“It was when she spoke the dragon’s true name that he granted her one wish,” he recounts the tale, feeling the trembles of your shoulders.

“That part of the story isn’t fictitious,” he reveals.

Voices from the depths of his rationality whisper for him to stop, to expand no more upon this secret of his brethren. Clamorous warnings to a traitor to not repeat his past transgressions.

However, he obeys no edict from the heavens or origins. Not when an unjust punishment caused such heart-wrenching sobs.

“Names hold great significance to dragons. So much so, to whoever learns their true name, a wish can be granted.”

Slowly, your tear-stained face pulls away from his crinkled dress shirt. Finally meeting his lilac gaze. He notes the bewilderment which surrounds his reflection in your eyes.

“Is… your name not ‘Neuvillette’?” You inquire.

“It’s a surname bestowed upon me by the mortals of the land.”

“Then… What is your name?” A glimmer of optimism ever so subtly debuts in your eyes.

He could not tell you. No matter how beautifully that light shines, this was one ordinance he couldn’t ignore. All he could do was glance away as he shakes his head. Unable to bear the sight of that light extinguishing.

“That is what you must find for yourself.”

Perhaps this is his defiance of the plot which has been unraveling for so long. His attempt to step off that circular path, searching for a different end.

The silent audience of fate watching on with bemusement to where this rendition will lead.

“Oh?”

What a peculiar occurrence, Neuvillette was just about to exit his study when he found himself just a breath’s width away from you. Instinctively, he takes a step back behind the threshold of the doorway.

Passive eyes studying your form, you must’ve been standing there for a while. A hand held up intending to knock on the oak door returns to your side as you stare at the floor.

“Is there something you need assistance with?” He continues to study you.

Lilac eyes observe as your fingers clasp together, a common habit of mortals when nervous, if he recalls the contents of a book correctly. Another minute passes before you take a deep breath.

“Is your name Guillaume?” You peer up.

Ah, so this is what you wished to inquire about.

The secret revealed to you that day beside an exit neither he nor you could cross. Guillaume, a name befitting of nobility. But unfortunately, not for a dragon.

He responds with a shake of his head, expression stiffening as he watches the corners of your lips drop ever so slightly.

“Oh…”

It seems his existence brings nothing but a frown upon those soft lips, Neuvillette felt it’s best to retreat from your sight.

This attempt was evidence of your determination to return to the embrace of a warm star.

It wouldn’t be right for him to interfere, despite those vile voice whispers murmuring from the depth of his mind. It wouldn’t be fair to you.

It’s best to maintain this distance between his hand and yours, for your sake and his.

Which begs the question, why were you still standing here in front of him?

“Is that all you wished to inquire?” Neuvillette hopes the Melusines will lift your spirits after he withdraws.

“Actually…” You began. “I made some soup and if you haven’t had lunch yet, would you like to try some?”

Although his stoic face might not reflect it, he’s positively baffled. Were ‘you’ always this enthusiastic about food?

The devil he knew before would view the freshest catches and clearest waters offered by a dragon with blasé reactions.

You used to recoil away from the fishes and meats he held out to you, they were only ever touched once he charred them over a fire.

Then again the kitchen back then was much more barren than the present, cabinets now decorated with bottles of fragrant spices and herbs.

Was it just a difference in palate? To reject such an invitation would be to squander a precious opportunity for investigation.

“The pleasure would be all mine.” He matches your strides as the two of you traverse toward the kitchen.

Settling down in a chair at a wooden table, Neuvillette watches as you ladle some soup into a bowl. Following your form as you set the bowl down in front of him. A pleasant aroma accompanies the steam emitting from the bowl.

“It’s Fontainian Onion Soup.” You hand a spoon over.

“Thank you.” He takes the utensil and scoops a hearty serving of the rich soup.

A distinct flavor of caramelized onions and the creaminess of cheese. The broth had been thickened with a bit of flour and the cheese added to the heavy mouth feel.

This dish certainly expresses the flavor preferences of humans… but could such a thick broth really be considered soup?

“Do you like it?” Your head tilts to the side as he feels your inquisitiveness.

Dabbing a napkin over his lips, he clears his throat.

“A fine dish indeed. Although increasing the liquid content and reducing the amount of fat could improve it,” he advises.

A hush falls over the kitchen, nothing but the occasional crackle of a fire filling the space.

“Oh… I’ll keep that in mind.” Your voice was restraining something.

As you turn away, Neuvillette catches the subtle shakes of your shoulders.

Ah, has he caused offense? He recalls how cooking and food preferences amongst humans tend to be a sore spot for most, some books going as far as to claim critics as attacks on one’s pride.

You had taken time out of your day to prepare a bowl for him, and he gave senseless comments in return.

“Ah, but it’s delicious regardless, thank you.” He has to remedy this situation.

The shakes of your shoulders increase, as a hand covers your lips.

“Thank you, Monsieur.” Your lips seem to be trying to stifle something.

After finishing your sentence, your lips pressed tighter together. He could see the corners twitching as they tried their best to remain neutral.

Before he could get another word in, you excused yourself. Leaving him in front of the warm soup.

In that moment, Neuvillette vows to himself that even if you were to hand him a piece of charcoal he’ll swallow it without a single complaint.

--------------------------------------------------------------

“Is your name Édouard?”

Your voice causes him to turn his attention away from the pages of a book this quiet evening.

You stood just off to the side of the bookshelf where he was browsing, a candle illuminating the curiosity held in your eyes. Presenting a name likely discovered from those very same shelves.

Dirges ring from the corners of his mind, warning him not to allow the light to approach so close.

However, where is a shadow supposed to withdraw to when the light seeks him?

Just as how the tide couldn’t run away from the shore for long. Steadfast and constant attempts to unravel the secrets held by the ebbs and flows.

Alas, he shakes his head again today, steeling his nerves as he catches the slight drop in your shoulders. Louis, Étienne, Théodore, and all those previous guesses, are names of heroes in Fontainian tales and epics.

Popularized to the point many boys were named after them, but no parent would ever want to name their child after a dragon, a beast.

He doubts the pages of history have ever recorded his name.

Your disheartened gaze couldn’t meet his, choosing to stare into the space beside him. He couldn’t fault you for that.

All your efforts of combing through old novels to search for obscured monikers just to be undone by a shake of a head.

He’s not sure how much longer he can endure being the origin of your melancholy.

“There’s a tear in your coat…”

Your voice brings him out of his thoughts, he glances at the spot your eyes were honed on and spots the aforementioned tear.

“Ah, I see. My apologies for being in such an unsightly state, ” he sighs. Lilac eyes ran along the jagged seams.

He should go find a replacement from his wardrobe, but you still looked like you had something to say.

“I can fix it if you’d like,” you offer.

It’s just a garment, a piece of cloth that fell off some merchant’s ship and found itself in the walls of a cove. There were plenty of other garments that suffered the same fate, picked up by pairs of curious mittened hands.

To replace this robe would be simple, but he notes the concealed eagerness in the fidget of your fingers. It must be rather dull for you down here for the past year, to the point you resorted to repairing old fabrics for enrichment.

Regrettably, Neuvillette admits he’s not the best host. He’s got no talent for small talk nor does he know how to entertain you, thus he left it up to the Melusines. However, he could at least do this much as a host.

“Thank you, I’d be grateful if you do.”

His steps in time with yours through the halls as an old storage room comes into view. Still filled with collections of folded gowns and coats.

As he observes the room, you guide him to a pair of wooden chairs, a box filled with needles and threads beside one. You place the candle down on a nearby table.

“I’ll take your coat.” Holding out your hands.

Following your request, he slips the robe off his shoulders, leaving him in a dress shirt and slacks.

Attentively you take the garment, settling down in a seat as your hand searches through the box. After your rummaging stopped, you glance back at him.

“It won’t take long, please have a seat.” Gesturing toward the other chair.

Lilac eyes scanned the aged seat, the door was just beyond it, it wouldn’t take much of an excuse for him to walk past the wooden threshold.

However, he pans back to your anticipatory gaze still awaiting. It wouldn’t be polite to deny such a simple gesture.

Thus, he heeds your request, ambling toward the empty seat, he begins to settle down just as a rip resonates through the air.

His body halts all movement just as yours did, toward pairs of eyes trained on the sleeve that had been caught on the edge of a wooden table.

The fibers of his shirt entangled with the jagged edges causing his sleeve to rip. Neuvillette truly has yet to acclimate to such fickle inconveniences.

“Pfft!-” Quickly your hand covers your mouth.

Lips pressed together as they tried their best to stifle the sounds threatening to leak out. Your shoulders shaking from the effort, just as they did that day in the kitchen.

Although his expression remains the same, he’s quite dumbfounded.

Unable to contain the sounds any longer, you erupt into a fit of giggles as he continues to stare. The bright chimes of your laughter fill the room, a melodic tune he had longed to hear for so long.

“S-sorry, I just didn’t expect you to… be so clumsy.” Giggles fragment your sentence along with a brief pause to collect yourself.

Clumsy. Yes, he remembers that word, an adjective you used to describe a dragon whenever he took on the shape you favored so much.

Of course, even a great beast like a dragon would totter and stumble when in such a foreign body.

Although he has been in this body for many, many years now, yet, Neuvillette hasn’t acclimated to these fickle mortal attires.

If these garments weren’t pushed into his hands by the Melusines and their bright-eyed stares, he’d prefer to not dawn them.

Neuvillette shuts his eyes. His lungs intake a deep breath, stifling the sway of these trivial inconveniences before they cause any ripples.

Once he’s certain there was no jagged edge to his stare, lilac hues peek back upon your figure.

By now those fits of giggles had faded into a tranquil lull, your content face focused on the stitches. Body relaxed against the back of the chair, weaving the needle through the sides of the tear.

Subconsciously, his frame begins to mimic yours, rigid muscles melting against the wooden support.

Lavender hues follow the disappearance of a sliver point, then catch its emergence from the fabric.

The torn and frayed edges draw closer and closer together by the coaxes of the thread, each stitch attentively placed by your graceful hands.

“Neuvillette?” Your serene voice interlaces with the placid interlude.

He hums an answer.

“That night by the entrance… you said ‘You're bound to this cove as well’.” The pace of the needle slows.

“Why did you say that?” You finish your question.

Observant, a characteristic of yours he’s always deemed quite commendable. Ever so keen on the nuances of his sentences.

The piercing stare of draconic eyes weighs on your shoulders, despite that the cadence of the needle didn’t falter. A ripple makes its appearance within a placid pool.

“Do you really wish to know?” He warns.

You hum resolutely. A bitter taste creeps its way up his tongue, the recollection of the string of words which damned him here.

Instinct advises him to swallow them back, to conceal his shame from your awaiting ears. However, answering the call of your curiosity should be enough of a repayment for repairing a coat.

“For the rest of one’s life, one shall never leave this cave deep beneath the tides. That is the curse set upon this body,” he reveals.

The needle stops.

“A curse?…” you stammer out.

Under your breath, Neuvillette hears you recount the disclosed secret. Repeating it to yourself as if to decipher the syntax, to find some answers to his condemnation.

The answer was sitting just in front of him.

“…For the rest of one’s life… well, how long do dragons live?”

To mortals, it’s time who is the reaper of their existence. From the moment a newborn sounds their first cry to the final draw of air on their deathbeds, it was the hands of a clock who ruled over them.

But such hands could not touch a being such as him.

“The life of a dragon begins and ends in the Fontemer Sea, born from it, made from it, and shall return to it to be born again.” He wonders if mortals could grasp such a concept.

“Oh…” Your tone grew more somber.

Judging from your tonality, you must’ve pieced the allusions together.

To be contained within these stone walls with only a pool of seawater he could not touch as the opening, is to bestow upon him immortality he never asked for.

For the Hydro Dragon could not return to the Fontemer Sea.

Even if dragons had long lives, it didn’t mean the humiliation of immortality. The true cruelty of this seemingly kind curse.

“Why?” Your voice just barely above a whisper.

Why was he cursed? Why is he in this sham of a mortal body? Why did he reveal the secrets of his brethren? All of this at the trifling sight of bitter tears.

“Because the people of Fontaine found my name and they wished for it.”

Why did he give you his name? And why did you then give it away? There are many questions left unanswered by that tale.

Why did a proud dragon bow to the whims of a mere mortal in that fairytale?

A creature as potent as a dragon should never bow, not to the ordinances of false gods, not to the turbulence of fate, and not to a mere mortal.

Why did a maiden wish for a dragon to become a human like them? Water is an adaptable element, able to take on any shape it pleases. However, it yearns to always return to its natural shape.

Perhaps, his ‘natural’ form appalled the devil too much. So much so, she used that one wish to confine him in the form she favored most.

More confoundingly, why did Neuvillette allow such a request? A creature favored by the usurpers dared to wish a dragon to abandon his heritage, to cross over the threshold of humanity just for their sake.

Why would a dragon ever bow to a mortal’s request?

The commandments of a false god and the howling thrashes of wind can’t make a proud dragon bow, but the weight of love might be enough for a prideful beast to lower his head towards a mortal.

A traitor to his own fallen brethren is much too dignified of a title for Neuvillette. No, it’d be better to call him for what he is: A Fool.

What a spectacle it was that day, even those fickle gods peered down just to watch. A fool who lost his form and authority was imprisoned beneath the tides.

A stir shakes that pool, whirling and writhing, the billows of bitterness mounting.

“… could it be wished away?” Your voice beckons his thoughts to return to the present.

Unlike how it was written in those tales, a curse can’t be ‘broken’. Not by a kiss, and not by clasping one’s hands together in prayer.

“Not even a miracle could make a curse vanish, a curse only ever goes away once its clauses have been fulfilled.”

Until the stars burn out, until the sky caves in on itself, or until the oceans of this uprooted world dry up, he shall remain here. The retribution a traitor deserves.

He shall remain in this sham of a body, unable to become the form he desired the most in the next life he’ll never reach.

Not a human, not a dragon, just an atrocity somewhere in-between. This must be what humans call ‘purgatory’.

“I see…” Your attention never leaves the half-stitched garment sprawled upon your lap.

A heavy silence fills the space between you and him once more. To conclude a conversation on such a doleful note would be a disgrace.

However, what is he to say? What words can salvage this situation? Neuvillette has no talent for small talk, he doesn’t have the same mortal heart as yours to provide you with any solstice.

Amidst his contemplation, a soft hum resounds through the quietude, and the melodic rhythm of a lullaby begins. It seems that you took matters into your own hands, ending the doleful silence at your own discretion.

Once more his back reclines into the wooden chair, pointed ears indulge themselves in a nostalgic tune.

It’s strange, that rippling pool is swaying back to equilibrium. The surface returns to its placid rest as tension melts from his muscles.

Unaware of the hushed pitter-patter of a curious audience, drawn in by the gentle song as their bright eyes peer ever from the cover of the door frame.

--------------------------------------------------------------

“Madame! Look I got more Pluie Lotuses!” Kiara’s little steps rush across the marble floor.

Getting up on the tips of her feet to show the bundle of fresh blooms, salty water still dripping from their petals, as her bangs stick flush to her face still damp from the sea. Her pink tail swaying behind her.

Your body turns in her direction just in time with Neuvillette.

“Kiara…” A subtle layer of disapproval emerges from lilac hues.

“Remember to dry off before entering the estate, the floors can become quite dangerous when wet.”

“But…” the flowers lower. “I wanted to show Madame the lotuses…”

There’s a drop in her tail and horns and a sharp sting to his chest. Her sisters were gathered around in a circle, a story having just concluded, he could feel their stares upon him. Adding to the sharpness of guilt.

“My apologies, Kiara, I only meant to warn you.”

She nods her head silently, tail still dragging on the floor. Ah, just what should he do? A frown begins to weigh down his face.

“Thank you, they’re wonderful, Kiara.” Your gentle chime breaks through the stalemate.

You take the bouquet from her mittened hands, placing them atop a counter, in exchange you offer her a towel.

“But Neuvillette is right, it’s not good to run through the halls right after you returned from the waters. It’s dangerous, okay?” Your voice as gentle as the towel rubbed over her hair and horns.

A content smile returns to her round cheeks as she diligently nods, promising that she’ll be more careful next time. Tail lifting up from the floor as the fluffy towel wipes away the ocean droplets.

Once fully dried, she joins her sisters. The Melusines cast shifting glances toward one another until one finally steps out from the crowd.

“Madame…” Carole calls out softly, tugging a few times the hem of your long dress.

“Hm?” Giving her your full attention, a towel set aside.

“I overheard you inquiring about names with Monsieur in the library once, could you be…” Her eyes downcasted.

Oh. This time it was Neuvillette and you who exchanged glances, eyes both reflecting the same dread.

They weren’t supposed to know. They weren’t supposed to hear those slapdash guesses.

He never meant for them to find out. Always careful to never discuss such matters in their earshot.

For how could he bear to tell them that their cozy village was actually a prison?

His mind was unable to conjure up an excuse, tongue unwilling to speak it. They weren’t supposed to find out. Oh, what shall he do now?

“Could you be expecting?”

Huh?

Two pairs of eyes widened with bewilderment, mind stunned into silence and lips just as confused.

Somehow they’ve huddled even closer than before, encircling you and him with their bright eyes and tails swaying with anticipation.

“Will there be a new addition to the village?”

“How long do we have to wait?”

“Are we getting a brother or sister?”

Their chatter and probes homogenized into a jumbled symphony his flustered conscious just couldn’t distinguish. Trying to reel his senses back from this unexpected turn of events. Neuvillette clears his throat.

“No,” he coughs out.

A collective ‘aw’ resounds through the air, their tails and horns drooping down at the announcement. Guilt pierced its nail through his chest once more. However, he couldn’t lie to their bright eyes.

“N-not, yet.” You add to his statement.

A wave of inquisitive‘oh’ ripples through the crowd. Tails picked up from the ground as the glimmer in their eyes returned.

A sweet lie sprinkled over the truth neither of you dare tell, that blood and water can’t make wine.

“Then, do you want a little prince or little princess?” Carole chirps.

You remain silent, only gazing down at their faces as they stare back.

A lilac stare was also focused upon you, his curiosity awakening at this question as well. He watches you take a slow breath before leaning down.

“I’d like to have a daughter, sweet and kind like all of you.” Your hand strokes her soft trestles.

Her head nuzzles into your palm as giggles fill the air. Only draconic eyes study the small smile upon your lips, dipped in bittersweetness.

Did you have a lover back on the surface in this life? Perhaps someone who was promised to you. A real prince this time.

Did you have dreams of basking in the grace of the sun, cradling a bundle as a pair of tiny fingers encase around your own?

Was this the hard-earned happy ending you yearned for?

“Monsieur…” Mamaere tugs on his slacks.

Neuvillette reigns his thoughts back from their escapade, he angles his head down.

“Where does a baby come from?”

The smile on your lips stiffen just as Neuvillette’s body does.

If there’s a god who’s peering into this cavern deep below the land and sea, must they send such dilemmas his way?

How does one navigate through this treacherous domain?

“Oh dear! I just remembered.” Your hands clap together.

“There’s a few ribbons and clips in the fabric room, do you girls mind getting them? So we can braid Monsieur’s hair?”

At once the Melusines stand at attention, focus diverted over their excitement at the prospect of decorating snowy locks.

The patters of their little steps trample down the hall, allowing you and Neuvillette a well-deserved moment of reprieve.

“Thank you.” His posture drops slightly as a hefty sigh leaves him, lids shut for a moment of rest.

“Of course, Sébastien.”

His eyes crack open, casting you a glance with a raised brow. The ghost of a grin barely contained by delicate lips. By this time, Neuvillette couldn’t recall all the past attempts.

“Regrettably, that is not my name.”

“Was it at least a decent attempt?”

He could hear the pout in your voice, one that didn’t last long before a light-hearted laugh follows it.

Closing his eyes once more as he indulges in those chimes, he nods ever so slightly. It was a good attempt, for it brought out those sounds he enjoyed.

His lashes flutter open at the sensation of his hair getting gathered in your tender hold. Passing the carved wooden teeth of a comb through his snowy locks.

Careful to not pull or tug on them as you coaxed the tangles out of their knots. The heaviness upon his shoulders leaves with a deep exhale which left his body, indulging in your attentive touches.

Subconsciously, his gaze trails up at the bundle of flowers resting along the wooden table. It wasn’t the periwinkle blush of the delicate petals that commanded his attention.

No, it was that salty, oceanic wisp mingled with the flora aroma. A fleeting essence of the sea.

“Do you miss the sea?”

Ah, it seems that his stare wasn’t as subtle as he had hoped. Neuvillette turns away from the flowers as if he had been caught amidst a scheme.

Facing in front of him, your paused hands signal your wait for his response.

“I suppose it’s only natural for me to long for it.”

After all these years, Neuvillette believes he has finally grasped it, an answer to that void filled with ‘whys’. As if he had seized the reflection of a star from the bottom of a deep lake.

Neuvillette thinks he understands why you and the devil yearned for the sunlight.

Perhaps the one similarity between proud dragons and arrogant humans. They both ache to return to where they came from.

One yearns for the sea. One yearns for land.

For there and only there, could their sins and grudges be purged. To gain the most restful sleep before the hands of fate shape them anew from the element.

“Hmm,” you hum in acknowledgment.

Fingers gentle and slow as they brushed through his hair. You hum a lullaby to accompany each pass of the comb. Melodies that made his ears yearn for more, craving for more sounds to leave your plush lips.

His hair had always been an inconvenience, capricious strands that were seemly curious of everything in his environment.

Snowy tresses find themselves gravitating towards door hinges, door knobs, and even the minuscule gaps in ornate furniture.

However, your patience hands untangled those unruly stands.

When a knot proves to be particularly stubborn, you tend to lend closer to hone in on the troublesome tangle.

It just so happens that a stubborn knot appeared, causing you to decrease the proximity between your bodies.

The heat radiating from your frame sends delightful pickles along his skin, a delicate warmth making his flesh grow feverish.

A hunger deep within begins to grumble and wallow, a greed that wishes to dig past those frivolous fragrances to get to the true taste he craves.

An ugly gluttony pleading to delve into your soft flesh. Ah, he recognizes the cause of this turbulence now…

Neuvillette clears his throat.

“I believe I’m beginning to feel unwell, so please refrain from venturing into the cellar for the next few weeks. I should quarantine myself.” Too ashamed to turn back and face you.

“Oh?...” The comb stops.

At this distance, he was well aware of your scent. A fine fragrance no water or bloom could hope to imitate. Concealed under a layer of lavish soaps and oils dropped from the surface was an aroma that was wholly yours and yours alone.

A gloved hand reaches up to cover his nostrils, seeking some barrier between that tantalizing whiff.

“Please, excuse me…” He pulls away swiftly.

The sudden action must’ve jostled his hair too much, for the sultry sensation of your fingertips was felt along azure ‘strands’.

Just a minor touch against his horns, yet shudders rack up his nape. His teeth sink into the flesh of his bottom lip, sharper than they’re supposed to be, anchoring those ravenous voices at bay momentarily.

He needs to leave now. For your sake.

Rushed strides stow a distance between his body and that delectable warmth of yours. His back turned to you as he couldn’t bear to see the expression upon that saccharine face.

Just what expression were you making as a dragon retreated?

The cellar of this estate was always cold, its stones never having once touched the sunlight before, thus they only brood in their frigidity. A somberness fitting to quell a heat which yearned to burn.

The fever has consumed his body wholly, each pant leaving trails of foggy wisps. Neuvillette burrows deeper into the hoard of sheets, pillows, and blankets. The brush of the soft fabrics prickles his skin.

How strange it is that despite the fever of heat igniting each corner of his flesh, despite the numerous thick covers twisting and burying his bare form, he’s still shivering.

A chill ingrained so deep it’s in his very bones, skin alight but bones frozen over, just what is this purgatory?

Annually it happens, a period where primal instincts exude past the rigid confines of a mortal form. Making its influence in the resurgence of draconic features over the mortal flesh that traps him.

No matter how raw his true form claws to be released, the mortal prison doesn’t relent. A curse he’s brought upon himself.

Laceratations of gluttony and cardinal sin sink deeper with each provocation. The creeks of the floorboards above and the sweet voice which leaked through the woods, the morsels of you that stirred the waters of instinct.

From the depths of the torrent, he’s so desperately suppressing came the unquenchable thirst to lure you in. Beckon you down to this shadowy cellar so that the ugly and primal waters could swallow you wholly.

But he mustn’t. Those soft touches and smiles had just been bestowed upon him, the twine of trust still delicate. How could he ever squander such privileges? For those lovely eyes of yours to look at him filled with nothing but fear and disgust, he’d rather be chained down here for the rest of eternity.

He must endure it for a bit longer, he knows it’ll be over soon. The gale which sweeps through him is slowly lessening its blows.

Even if the waters of primitive instincts howled and stormed, Neuvillette refused to leave this tangle of blankets and pillows. An unwavering grip refusing to submit to those demands. Thus nature had to find its own way to subsist off a drought.

The heat hazed over his mind, conjuring up fantasies to appease the ever-unsettled water from its vapid reality.

“Neuvillette?” A soft voice calls out.

Just like now. Desire fogs up his senses to create a delusion, mimicking the way your warm voice beckons him. It’s nothing but a figment of his depraved lust.

“Neuvillette?”

He buries his ears further into the down covers to block the alluring mirages. Tickling him to submit to the temptation. But he mustn’t. Nothing more than a manifestation of lust.

The phantom donning your sweet voice calls out for him, and gentle touches send shivers through his nerves. Ah, he must vanquish this mirage before the fraying line of his self-restraint splinters apart.

Nothing but smoke and mirrors conjured by desire, a rigid arm expels out from the covers to dissipate the siren’s lure.

However, it wraps around something warm, a heat which his fever wails for. Intrinsically his shivering body covets that warmth, to be buried flush against the source so that this chill may finally stop its torment.

So like any greedy dragon, his claws enclose around temptation and drag it into his decrepit cave of blankets and sheets.

A satisfied purr judders through his stalwart body, a warmth which could finally reach his very bones. Thus, he burrows his face deeper into the shoulder of this phantom, a lovely aroma beckoning him to pull their soft body closer.

“Neuvillette?…”

His eyes snap open, realization flooding through him just as the chill that had been ingrained into his bones. This wasn’t an illusion. You weren’t an illusion.

He tears himself away, just as a moth does once they realize a hypnotic flame had set their wings alight. Trembly arms firmly planted on either side of your body, snowy locks falling onto your face.

“Are you alright?...” The sapphire luminance of his elongated horns shines across those sinless eyes.

The strap of a nightgown halfway down your shoulder from when he snatched you beneath his savage form.

“You… you shouldn’t be here,” he breathes, voice unsteady and taut.

“You’ve been away for an awfully long time… I-” Your eyes were blown wide and lips pressed together, aghast gaze not daring to glance down at the raging rigidness pressed against the silk of your nightgown.

Frenzied shivers of pleasure jostles through his veins, tremors racking his body all the way to the tips of his horns. In desperation his rigidnesses pleaded to feel you, throbbing so painfully a hiss leaves his lips.

“You need to leave, quickly please.” Leave before he traps you again.

Before this pathetic excuse of a sovereign loses against himself, before he makes a fool of himself. Neuvillette tries to pull away, against the weeping wishes of his erections. Face too ashamed to even look at you, but a pair of tender hands guides his cheeks back.

“...But I missed you…” You whisper.

Why are your hands embracing his face in this unsightly state? Are they not appalled by the patches of scales littered across them? Like a flame reaching out towards a moth.

“Leave, please.” Don’t tempt him like this.

“... Don’t you miss me?...” Your hold doesn’t budge.

Why do you look at him like that? Irises filled with warmth as his image is reflected in the flickering candlelight. Gazing wholly up at him. A cerulean glow tinting your hair and supple body.

“Don’t…” He reasons, the last of his sensibility crying a warning of a sinful fruit.

“Please, Neuvillette… won’t you hold me for just a bit? I missed you so much….” The shift of your shoulder causes the nightgown to slip further off your shoulder.

Don’t call out to him like that. No, not as your bewitching body was so close to his. The glow of a candle illuminating the curve of your cheeks, disheveled hair framing your wide eyes.

Don’t show him such a sight, for he’ll salivate to devour you until his teeth rot.

“Please?...” Coaxing his head down so that his forehead rests against yours.

Your warmth, your soft touches, and your delectable aroma, they parch his throat so much it pained him. Just as painful as attempting to swallow down sand from a hellish desert, it aches and lacerates his throat.

And here you were offering a lustrous fruit, so juicy and filled of sin, in front of his famished eyes. A cruel, cruel mercy.

“... May…May I?” It’s unbearable, this parchedness in his throat, would you be so kind to quench it?

Your sweet hum grants him permission. Eyes closed just as you turn a blind eye to his ravenousness, still stroking his tender cheeks. Neuvillette couldn’t deny himself any more of the warmth he’s coveted for oh so long.

Thus, he delves head-first into the glimmer of that enchanting flame. Burying his nose into the crook of your neck, so vulnerable and complacent, to hoard your bewitching fragrance all for himself. His skin flushed against yours as his bones delight in your heat.

The reigns of self-respect slip out from his hands as they let go in favor of running along your curves and edges. Each feature, your shoulders, and hips, aligns with details he’s long ingrained into his memory.

His fervor touches pushing down the silk fabric which dare disturb his worship. Nevuillette cants his head up momentarily, puffs of smothering breaths clouding the frosty air.

Lilac eyes drink up how the chilly air made your delectable breast perky, trailing down the goosebumps lining your torso, and landing on your exposed thighs.

A dryness itches in his throat as callused hands bite into the tender skin and he parts those placid legs away.

Oh, how could one ever take their eyes off that shiny, succulent fruit held out so openly in the hands of the tempter of all tempters?

They reveal to him the oasis he’d been hallucinating these grueling weeks. The tip of a serpentine tongue slips across his parched lips.

Since you so brazenly offered your body up to him, you wouldn’t have any objects against him finally getting a taste, right?

His foreboding figure traverses downwards until his delirious face is right between the cusp of his salvation and demise.

Dilated pupils peering up at you for approval, an invocation for clemency from this drought. A merciful hand graces his cheeks once more, granting him his salvation and demise.

His tongue escapes past his parched lips, as lengthy as it was insatiable, it licks a slow and passionate strip up your slit. A taste he once would only recount in the depths of his recollections.

Does this new body of yours still have the same weaknesses? Will you still writhe in madness if he sucks on that delectable little nub? Or how about those hidden points concealed deep within?

Could this tongue of his bring you past the brink of insanity in this life as well?

There was only one way for Neuvillette to grasp the answers he sought. A long tongue slips past the entrance of your satin walls, welcomed with a lewd squelch.

Grip parting your legs from his path further. Those quivering calls of ‘Neuvillette’and the pawing of your small hands against his head beckon him deeper.

Ah, redemption, it’s far too late for him now. For Nevillette has taken a bite out from that forbidden fruit, the evidence of it was dripping down his chin.

Ah, these slick velvety walls, he missed them. They clamp down with such ferocity along this beastly tongue, extensive enough to reach the deepest cavern of you.

A divine nectar begins to pool, Neuvillette retracts his tongue just enough for the heavenly taste to slide down his throat. Your sweet musk sends his olfactory system into chaos, rampant tongue returning to ravish you.

Not one drop of restraint left within him. It’s beastly how he’s devouring you. His tongue craves more of the delicacy he’s denied himself these past years, a thirst no water could quench. Wet muscles sliding up the whole length of your slit in a meticulous long lap, his nose bumping into your clit.

Your mewls and sobs echo off the walls when he flicks his tongue over that sensitive nub. Your body jolts violently as the length of his tongue ventures into the honeypot, toes curling in the air, but his iron-clad grip doesn’t allow any room for escape.

Delicate fingers now entangled into his tussled locks, grasping onto illuminated horns. You were likely trying to find something to ground your dissipating sanity, how unfortunate that your actions only flamed the fires.

A guttural growl echoed. Tongue now plunging further, slithering back and forth along your walls. For being such a sweet sacrifice for him, he’ll give a reward. Slithering tongue making sure to drag against that spot he’s memorized.

Judging from how your feet were arching off the sheets, it seems this sinful detail of yours was repeated as well.

Your body writhes, no longer docile under the white searing pleasure frying the ends of every nerve within your being. Unrelenting rhythm slipping in and out of your convulsing walls, your body twitching and flailing in reaction.

Trying to find some way to handle this surcharge of sensations. Legs instinctively wanting to shut together as if to cease this turbulent sensation, unfortunately, your pitiful strength gave no resistance against his rigid hold.

He could feel your muscles begin to seize up, slick walls clamping harder on his writhing tongue. Was this foreign sensation too much for you already?

His long tongue explores every last crevice, tastebuds lapping against those weak spots deep within as his nose bumps and grinds against that lewd clit. This unsightly side of you.

There’s more fervor in the lashes of his tongue, slurping up the nectar trickling out your greed, mixing with his spit dripping down his chin.

Your legs trashing but unable to go anywhere in his unrelenting hold, only able to pull on his silky locks for dear life as sobs tumble out. A flood of arousal adds to the mess on his chin. One he gladly laps up.

Oh’s and ah’s were the only choked sounds your lips could make as your eyes rolled to the back of your scrambled mind.

Neuvillette still relishing in the elixir he’s denied himself for too long, not even the purest water could compare. Reveling in the taste until every last drip ran down his parched throat.

Pulling away, a trail connects his lips with your quivering folds. Callous hands dig further into your legs, making room for his body. Watching as the movements of your chest slowed, his brute figure engulfed your frame.

The ache was unbearable now, each impatient throb reprimanding him for delaying their greed. Neuvillette couldn’t deny their request any longer.

Back sitting up straight, his cocks thrumming against his abdomen, precum exuding out from their swollen heads.

The cool air did little to calm the throbs of his fervors, the girthy shaft standing tall as its engorged tip weeped precum, its twin weeping just the same.

They hover over the softness of your belly, sharp pupils trail up the shadow they cast, heralding to where they crave to be buried.

The heat of his body was suffocating, the burn in his throat greater than ever before. But why? He had drank from that forbidden oasis, it’s dripping down his chin, yet why has his thirst grown greater than before?

Neuvillette was so… so close. If he had only endured it for another day or two, the gale within him would’ve relented and retreated away in defeat. But oh how viciously it’s gloating in its victory. Getting a dragon to bow his head to its cardinal blows.

“Do you… feel better now, Neuvillette?” Slow pants leave your curled lips as your hands reach up to caress his taut face.

This brazenness, this shamelessness, this insolence. Ah, these characteristics have followed you through the grave and into this life as well. You weren’t skilled enough this time around to hide your desire glazed across your pupils.

Did you do this in hopes of making him indebted to you? Offer your sweet body in return for stealing his name from his locked lips? Was this why you traversed down to this dark cellar so late in such flimsy silks?

That gleam in those deceptive eyes, the audacity to believe you could tame the sea with just a flick of your finger. You devious temptress.

“Better?… you’ve only fanned the flames, you devious woman.” A snarl from the depths of him.

Before another word could leave your lips one torrid hand pins your wrist to the sheets. Nails much too sharp to be human dig into those fickle and troublesome fabrics hiding your skin from his touch.

An all too satisfying rip resounding through the air along with your yelp. Scraps join the tangle of sheets.

Did his mortal prison deceive you too much? Did his mild mannerisms trick you into believing that he’s a merciful soul? Or did you always ignore the warnings?

A monster with a human face is still a monster. To believe that one’s patience is endless, only a human could be this impertinent.

His other vascular hand slides down the curves of your body, settling on your hip as your legs hook behind his firm thighs. The ridges of his lower cock drag against your slick folds, wetting his girth from its leaking tip sliding down against your swollen clit.

Precum mixes with the concoction as the glossiness spreads about his length. A pair of shaky breaths mingle as Neuvillette positions his engorged tip at your dripping entrance.

The sensation must’ve cleared the daze from your mind, your head cants downwards to stare at the two oddities.

“A-are both of them going to…” Your grip tightens on the sheets, a subconscious search for comfort.

Ah, now you remember danger. Now you realize your insolence to believe that a mere human could ever tame a proud dragon.

“There won’t be any point in breaking you so quickly,” he snarls. Not missing the flutter of your hole as the weeping head dragged over it. It wouldn’t be good to break you so quickly. His sweet little sacrifice.

Taking the erection which hung lower, he rubs its flushed tip along your slit. Each flinch and tremble sparked gratification through his veins.

The lashes of his tongue had aided in the preparation of these sinful walls, but the girth of his beastly tongue could not compare to the thickness pressed against these leaking folds.

The ghost of his breath flutters over your prickling skin. Neuvillette takes deeper breaths as the weight pressed against your core grew, the bulbous tip inching past the puckering entrance.

The stretch was maddening despite the restrained pace. Your walls fluctuate in a surging dance between clamping down and trying to remain relaxed.

As Neuvillette sinks his girth in bit by bit, its envious twin slithers against your aching clit. The sensitive bundle of nerves drags against each ridge and vein, sending jolts of searing pleasure through him and causing your satin walls to flutter.

A velvety sack kisses against your slick folds, signaling that his length has reached its end. The fat tip of its twin resting just above your naval indicated just how deeply he was buried, trapped between your soft flesh and his sculpted body.

It’s crowded inside you, girth parting and stretching these satin walls while the length is pressed against the deepest most intimate part of you.

Forcing delectable little whimpers and gasps from your haughty lips. Quivering legs now locking ankles behind his back, like a pitiable attempt to hamper him.

That arrogance disgraced to nothing but obscenity upon a wanton face. To see the devil so helpless and lewd under the manipulation of a dragon. What a wonderful sight.

Surely your body remembers his. If not, then he’ll ensure it does now, he’ll engrain it into you for the next life.

One cock slid against the satin ridges of your walls, the other indulging along your searing skin and grinding against your clit. He can’t deny how addictive your body always has been.

Dragging as far back as your locked legs would allow him, the flushed head of one dick kisses your twitching clit, and he sinks back in.

Grunts and purrs reverberate through his throat, teeth clenching as your heat engulfs him again. Reaching deeper into your welcoming core as your lips fall open.

His pace is methodical and controlled to his liking. Drawing out his cock inch by thick inch, sloppy trails of arousal caught on each ridge.

Each time making your core empty and yearning to clench around his girth. Just as a whine would leave your drooling lips, his hips would return to you what your core longed for.

Pushing each tantalizing inch to stroke your starved walls until his skin claps against yours with a wet kiss. Back and forth, back and forth the resounding slaps echoed. Mingling with his low groans and your pitched gasps, creating a sacrilegious yet divine hymn.

Your hand rakes deeper into his toned back possessed by desperation.

A few snowy strands are trapped between your writhing fingers. Pulling him closer to your smoldering skin, causing your clit to grind intensely against his swollen cock, as its twin twitches within your velvety folds.

Those babbles falling from your fed lips, were they pleas for him to bestow upon you leniency or begging him to speed up?

“Do you wish to climax?” A polite façade purrs into your ear.

Lilac eyes were not ignorant to how a devil keens under his body, her gaze drunk off a feverish potion of lust and desire. He could feel it, these velvet walls aching for more, for his girth to jostle your core more, to extinguish this all-consuming ache within you.

“That’s too bad.”

His hips remain steady contrasting against the unevenness of your own pants, unaffected by your desperate mewls. You’ve been selfish enough, you’ve been greedy enough. If he were to grant you a taste of ecstasy, then it’ll be on his terms.

He hasn’t gotten his fill yet, no, he wants to pound his shape forever into these lewd walls. The way they contract and squeeze around his girth with each drive of his hips, they’re practically begging him to.

Thus, he accelerates just a bit more, then a bit more, then a bit more again. Nearly folding you with how flushed he was against you.

The heavy scent of lust, the smothering heat, his unrelenting and unshakable thrusts amalgamating into a spark. One which set the both of you ablaze. Your nails digging into his skin and eyes reaching the back of your head. Sobs and incoherent prattles resound through the room.

Your devious walls clamped around his length with maddening convulsions, gummy muscles suckling to guide his throbbing head to your deepest greed. It was too much.

Neuvillette was powerless as his body pressed yours deeper into the damp sheets, trying to grasp onto any fleeting wisps of control as euphoria overtook him.

Sinking his ravenous teeth into the tangle of the sheets beside your neck, he stifles the admission of his defeat.

A heftiness is spilled within your walls and paints the expanse of your skin in an all-consuming wave. Thick release coating every corner of your core, to finally quell that ravaging heat.

Each subsequent twitch pours more into your crowded cavity and stains your skin. The filthiness of it all seemingly prolongs your sinful depravity.

Chest expanding with pants, pressing your erected nipples against his taut chest. Neuvillette remains buried against you, brutish arms holding your body flush against his.

As if to anchor you, to not allow the turbulent waves of madness to sweep you far from him, or him from you. Keeping your quiver body safe against his.

In the darkness behind his shut lashes, he felt it. Your soft caresses his silky tresses and heaving body. Even as your body heaves and quivers in exhaustion, why must you touch him so tenderly?

Why must you be so cruel? If your hands keep caressing his clammy skin, stroking his peeking scales, he’ll misunderstand.

He’ll believe the delusion that you love him.

Him and not the swaying flower fields of the sunkissed surface.

Whispers cut through the haze of lust and passion, warnings crying for Neuvillette to escape. So he pulls his face from the tangle of sheets, lungs huffing as his eyes find yours.

Exhaustion muddles the hues of your gaze, but not enough to completely smother that glimmer still present. Ah, he knows that that glimmer was.

Even in his heat-induced daze, he’s not naive enough to believe the sincerity presented in your eyes was anything other than duty.

He doesn’t want to be reminded that those hands, which cup his face with such tenderness, are bound by a sense of duty.

A reminder that he’s merely just a stepping stone on the path of your true desire.

He doesn’t want to see it.

The head of his cock parting with a deafening squelch. A darkened gaze follows the pool forming between your splayed legs. Disgruntlement muddles lilac hues.

But such discontent couldn’t last long when the twitch of a neglected length protests. Its bulbous tip longed for its turn within those sticky walls. A primal ordinance he couldn’t resist.

What to call this sensation, to scorn yet desire you just as much.

It wasn’t long before your hips were maneuvered up, your plush ass now up in the air as your quivering arms and face pressed into the sullied sheets.

As one hand supports your unsteady hips. Sharp eyes surveying the puffiness of your cunt, glistening with temptation and dripping with sin.

Hooked fingers slides up the weeping slit, collecting the sacrilegious mixture. Earning an addictive whimper from you when his digits pulled away. Spreading them in front of his gaze, tracing over the stringy nectar stretched between them.

How strange, those lying lips of yours whimper for ‘rest’ and a ‘moment to catch your breath’. Yet your body is still so eagerly exposing itself to his eyes, agape cunt so eagerly twitching and slick.

You don’t even try to writhe yourself away from his hold, not even a single attempt to hide yourself from his hunger.

How skilled you are at fanning the flames, perhaps it's a talent inherent to devils like you. The tempter of all tempters.

You’ve always been like this since the very first rendition.

If only you weren’t so strong-willed. If only you weren’t so clever to trick him. If only you weren’t so enchanting.

Then he wouldn’t have bent to your whims, the sea would’ve cleansed out the mortal filth from stolen land. Then he wouldn’t be trapped in this disgrace of a body. Then he wouldn’t be in love with you.

The betrayal, the disgrace, and this punishment would’ve never happened if only a fool didn’t surrender everything for a mere, fleeting creature.

Why must you make him repeat the same mistake again?

There it was again, that surging torrent within him making its voice known in the echoes of his mind. Whispering the hint on how a dragon would defeat the flame that had scorched him those years ago.

Smother the flame with the tides of depravity and vulgarity. Taint your arrogance with shame.

There wasn’t an ounce of gentleness remaining within his eyes, a beastly hunger taking its place.

Yes, you must pay the debt of reducing him to such a humiliating state.

His neglected cock prods against that greedy cunt of yours. Unmerciful hands bruising the plushness of your hips.

The sinful concoction from the previous sessions allowed his tormented length into your walls without resistance.

The neglected cock finally indulging in the spasms of your abused walls, it’s its turn to bully those weak spots with its thick head.

Sobs sung in broken chokes leave your drooling lips. Trembling fingers enmeshed into the fabric as if to find some ground for your senses to land after their fall from euphoria.

He won’t allow you reprieve. No, not even for a moment. He’ll shatter your sanity and arrogance once and for all.

Nothing interrupted the pistoning of his hips as he fucked you through overstimulation, heavy balls slamming against your swollen lips.

The previous twin cock was now experiencing the hard nub of your engorged clit running along its veins and ridges.

There’s no room for an exchange of words. No, the two of you have long been pasted that point.

No sandy ground beneath as the two of you sank under the ravenous tides of primal instincts and pleasure.

Cacophonous growls, whimpers, and sobs filling the absence along with the thwacks of skin against skin echoed back from the cellar walls.

You keen under the ram of his hips, jostled head writhing against the soiled sheets. The motion allows your hair to fall over your shoulders.

Exposing an untainted patch of skin. Sharp pupils watching how beads of sweat trailing down your nape reflect the azure glow of his body.

An itch assailing his fangs even has his hips continue their barrage against your soft ass. Those lovely vulgar moans wane out from his hearing as his senses could only obsess over the untarnished expanse.

Ah, what if there’s a way for him to pin you here until the stars themselves burn out? You were given to him as his bride.

An offering made to him.

So why can’t he forever confine you within his clutches? Just as you were the original sin which damned him to this cove.

Long tongue dragging along the fresh skin, feeling the jolts of your body.

He’s done it once before, he’s cursed you before. Imprinting a curse upon your very soul, one which followed you through the hands of death and even when the hands of life reformed your body from the earth.

Why not renew it?

Neuvillette pins your upper body further into the tangled bedding, one hand abandoning your hips in favor of raveling in the mess of fabric.

Your heated skin felt against his exhilarated fangs, hungry to sink into your nape.

‘Till death do us part’, that’s not enough.

Such fleeting mortal oaths are much too meek for dragons.

No, those atrocious murmurs in his thoughts command him to curse you in the next life. And the next one, and the one after that as well.

It’s not like your muddled head would understand, nothing but mindless prattles and mewls from the suffocating pleasure only he could ever give you.

But that’s fine, just drown nicely in lust and desire. He’ll always be waiting there at the bottom to drag you down deeper.

Just as the tips of his pointed teeth broke through quivering skin, delicate fingers grasp upon burly a hand.

Intertwining their grasp together upon rumpled linen, a subconscious search for comfort.

An action that remits an iota of reason back to his foggy mind, hazy eyes moving toward the sight of your hand clutched around his.

Even as he’s ravishing your weeping walls, flooding your body with his filthy essence which trickles down your thighs and ass, and chasing his own carnal needs… you still reach for him.

Shamelessly pulling his touch closer, even when the throes of rapture banished all thought from your jostled mind.

A whisper resurfaces amidst the fog and clamor of instinct and rage.

However, it’s a whisper which made his incisors dare not budge another inch. The inkling of truth which he thought he had silenced within the depths of his heart.

The accuracy that this wasn’t love. No, what his instincts craved was not love, it was obsession.

For love was not this sadistic possession, not to curse you just to ease his own damnation.

No, love is supposed to be much like the warmth of your palm flushed against his knuckles.

He remembers now, the lesson you taught him all those years ago. A demonstration witnessed with his own eyes.

Love was sacrifice, just as how you offered yourself to the tides, quelling the rage of a vengeful dragon. Because you loved your village too much to allow them to drown.

Retreating away from the transgression almost committed, fangs repressed behind closed lips. Neuvillette presses a sweet kiss against the shallow wound.

To love you isn’t to steal you away from the embrace of the star who’s forsaken him. It’s to hoist you up to that beloved sunlight. Just where you belonged.

Oh, how could he not love you?

The bride offered to a dragon in a white dress who once dared to command the great beast to stand still as she braided flowers into his hair.

A brazenness contrasted with the gentleness of her smile.

The voices of heart and cruelty rang out in vociferous battle in his mind, Neuvillette buries his face into your shoulder. Pursuing the savor of your skin, pinning you deeper into the tangle of bedding.

Providing more simulation for the pulsing cock wedged against your swollen clit and messy sheets. The neediness of his movements exposed just how close his undoing was.

The hand on your abdomen pulled you impossibly close, adding pressure to the bulging outline of his cock.

Amplifying the ecstasy coursing through your veins, abused walls clamping down on each ridge and each vein of his heft girth. The shape engrained into your wanton core, marvelous sobs and mewls echoing off the empty walls.

Soon those moans become shattered in your throat, eyes rolling back further with each heavy thrust and slap of his balls. Lungs cease all function as rapture unravels you wholly and exhilaration becomes your undoing.

Sloppy contractions mix the repercussions of multitudinous ruination, dripping out your convulsing cunt. Just before a hot surge replenishes the brood that oozed out on the sullied sheets.

Grunts vibrate against your back reminding your body to breathe.

Thick ropes paint your belly and sheets, making an absolute mess. Contracting walls trying but failing to contain the aftershocks from his cock buried deep within, already stretched to their limits, capacity long exceeded. Shudders rack your body and his the same.

With hands still entangled, he coaxes your body around. Granting him a mesmerizing view of your debauched face.

The face he’s so enamored with that he bows his down closer, bodies still connected as he wishes to echt every last detail of you into his being. So that eternity may remember you.

Softness resurfaces in his bones, a tender kiss pressed upon your fingers. Soothing those tremors as he guides your consciousness back to reality.

He holds you, remaining inside as to contain his greed spilled deep inside. The heftiness of his cock prods against your shuddering walls. Every last fiber of your being overstimulated with pulsing pleasure.

Yet, your hand refused to let go. Still holding him toward your exhausted figure in the dying light of the candle.

Whimpers and coos exchanging in a duet of devotion, a hymn so placate it quells the vapid torrents ever so slightly.

Placid fingers drawing circles into your sore back. A gentle lilac gaze keeping watch as your teary eyes retire behind heavy lashes.

Blood and water no matter how much they’re mixed, won’t produce wine.

However, just for tonight in a realm heavy with lust, passion, and phantasm, they’ll craft a wine of delusion. One filled with nothing but wishful fantasy.

However, this wine of delusion shall be enough to quench the thirst of lascivious compulsions and vengeance.

The gentle caresses of steam ghost past your leaden lashes, lukewarm ripples lap against your skin. Your sore body propped up against the porcelain, as Neuvillette drags a dampened towel along your skin.

A pang of guilt stung him each time the cloth passed over a discolored imprint. No amount of diligent rubs would purify your skin of those bruises in the shape of his fingers.

A stir from muscle gradually awakening from slumber reflected in the wavelets of the bath. The sensation of a damp towel must’ve further jolted your senses back to alertness.

A cerulean glow glistens off the polished surface as your vision finally centers on the figure rising warm water over your limp body.

Attentive eyes immediately connect with yours as he scans your expression for discomfort.

“Are you hurting anywhere?” Neuvillette halts the towel.

You respond with a slow shake, your throat must be too sore to answer. Despite how he tries to conceal them behind a robe, blotches of azure painted along his fair skin.

Proof that draconic influence was still in rebellion of his body. All the while he’s very much aware of your eye’s every move. What an appalling sight it must be for you.

“If I make you uncomfortable I’ll leave promptly, this was just the only solution I could find to bathe-”

“It’s fine, I don’t mind.” Voice hoarse as your frame melts closer to his, delicate fingers intertwining with between the spaces of his own scaly fingers.

Allowing your breaths to minge in tandem in the steam-damped tiles of the tranquil bathroom.

“Does it hurt?” A warm thumb traces soft circles along the rough scales along his hand.

Did you catch the subtle twitches and jolts of his muscles? A mortal body rejecting draconic influences, draconic influences revolting against a mortal cage. Still, he shakes his head. Lilac gaze watching your eyes trail between the scales and his eyes with skepticism.

“I’m not quite sure as to why I’m still in this… state.” Neuvillette gives a preemptive answer to the question he assumes to be hanging off your tongue.

“Do you… miss the sea?” However, it seems you had another inquiry hidden in your ever perplexing mind.

A deep sigh resonates through the tranquil air. He stares at the tips of his fingers dipped into the warm water, a taunting substitute for the sea that called for him.

“I suppose it’s natural that I yearn for it…”

A hum was your only response, eyes hidden behind closed lashes. Neuvillette just couldn’t decipher that smile of yours, curled lips reflected over the rippling surface of the steaming water.

--------------------------------------------------------------

“Your body is still delicate, please let us return back to the estate-”

“I might actually grow roots into that bed if I’m to rest there any longer.” A pout was evident in your voice.

Taking a few greater strides, your body pulls in front of Neuvillette’s pace. It was only momentary of course, for he swiftly rejoins your side.

Observant eyes not missing the subtle wobble in your steps along the pastures of the village.

“Please just don’t stray too far.” He relents, offering up his arm for support.

With a gracious smile, your arm curls around his, interlocking your fingers with his as two pairs of steps ambled along the grass.

Soon a familiar pool of water came into view, enticing two pairs of eyes with its glimmering ripples.

What it strange sight those waters showed, a cursed dragon who yearned for his place and a cursed mortal who longed for the sun, two cursed beings holding hands in the reflection along the pristine surface.

“I believe this is far enough. ” His arm pulls your frame closer, a subtle hesitance tainting his tone.

However, your body didn’t budge. Resolute stance not moving even one bit watching your reflection warp and contort in the water. A deep breath echoes off the wall.

“Neuvillette… do you miss the sea?” Your stare parts with the water, now peering straight into his lilac hues.

‘Do you miss the sea?’ You’ve asked him this question many times. He's always given a composite response, but maybe his flowery words diluted the meaning too much to your ears.

“Yes, I do miss the sea.” His candid yearning.

There was a question his lips didn’t dare ask, ‘Do you miss the sun?’, Neuvillette wanted to riposte your questions with this question of his.

But he knew it would be pointless, for he already knew the answer. Wordlessly written all over your melancholic stare into the pond, the longing to return to the sun, to be with blood and not water.

To love you, would be to hoist you up to where you longed to be, in the embrace of the warm sun. Neuvillette had thought he made up his resolve long ago.

However, would it be too selfish of him to wish to turn back?

To convince you to back into the tranquil estate where the Melusines await your return with those dishes you taught them how to cook.

Or maybe would at least try on those gowns still untouched? Could you wait until all those books in the library were read through by your sweet voice?

Would you be oh so kind enough to hold his hand just for a moment longer? At the very least, would you allow him to memorize your warmth?

His grip on your hands tightens ever so briefly, a shaky breath trembles in his chest before he releases it along with the tension in his fingers.

No, it wouldn’t be fair to stall any longer, you deserve your happy ending.

Calmly, the dragon bows his head closer to yours. Ignoring the aggrieved voices that cried for him to swallow back to secret just about to spill from his tongue.

The ending of this tale won’t ever change, for a dragon is just as foolish as he was before.

“My true name is-!” His voice was stunned as a pair of soft lips silenced him.

Your lips pressed against his own, forcing back the secret. His bewildered eyes hone in upon your face, but your lashes were shut as your hands pull his face closer. The resolve wanes from his bones as he sinks into your embrace.

As your lips pull away, gasping for breath. He places his hands atop yours, searching your face for an answer. All he got was that indecipherable smile.

Pulling his face down closer to yours again, your lips find themselves right next to his pointed ears. Under a faint breath which left your parted lips came the secret he kept locked away.

Since when? When did you find his name? Or… did you know this whole time?

Neuvillette reels back in the embrace of your cruel hands. Lilac eyes stare deep into yours, peering through the cracks in that enchanting façade of yours.

Ah, this whole time, did he not discover the false innocence in the irises of the deceptor of all deceptors?

A foolish moth fell for the deception of a devil once again, flying to the flicker of a candle until his wings were charred off into ash.

Those sentences written upon parchment weren’t lies, all other monsters fall secondary to the devil. Even a dragon.

“Why?” Was all he could muster, oh cruel devil why did you play him a fool once more?

“Because I wanted to see you again… but I knew you wouldn’t quite share the same sentiment since the moment I heard your voice… so I lied,” Those audacious eyes of yours never looked away.

Ah, how could he forget how crafty and observant a devil is with her schemes? The charming enchantment as she performs her deceptions. Speaking shameless lies with those bewitching lips.

“If you wanted to see me… then that day at the loch… why weren’t you there?” The stir of the torrent within put a snarl into his throat.

Why must you keep lying to him?

Ah, from the start, Neuvillette should’ve listened to the clamorous cries of his instincts. To withdraw away from the flame, to extinguish the hell fires before they left another lesson learned upon his skin.

Yet, he’s still within the embrace of your cruel hands. His body just wouldn’t pull away.

Just what is this level of stupidity called? For a moth to still crave the warmth of the flame which charred its wings into ash. Just what is this lunacy called?

“The nobles locked me away after those tyrants stole your name from my tongue, they locked me away.” Torment brewing in those irises which reflected him.

A chill staggers the surge of the torrent, an icy sting which stupefied the rampaging currents.

For generations upon generations of scribes and poets never penned this detail down in any rendition of a classically beloved tale.

“I begged them, I banged against the bars of the cell, even clawed at the stone walls until my fingers were raw, but they left me there to rot in the cold… I just wanted to see you one last time, just once more.” Those bitter pools formed in your penitent eyes spill over.

This wasn’t how the tale was supposed to end. The maiden, who deceived a dragon for her people, was supposed to be hailed a hero. You were supposed to have a happy ending, so why didn't you get that?

“All I ever wanted was for you and me to walk amongst humanity… look where that got us…” Tears descend from your cheeks and onto the grass below, a humorless chuckle.

Was this another lie falling from those saccharine lips of yours? Sugar dusted on the shell of a vile trick? Neuvillette wasn’t sure anymore.

“That foolish wish of mine… it must’ve been so painful. I’m so sorry.” Your thumb traces over the scales dotted over his cheek, evidence of a draconic rebellion against a mortal condemnation.

Does your touch scorn or soothe him? Neuvillette wasn’t sure anymore.

“I’m sorry. I’ll say sorry one thousand times if you wish.” A tremor in your voice.

The surge within him couldn’t sustain itself, faltering and receding back to a placid, pathetic ripple. Perhaps… It's tired.

Tired of holding onto this futile grudge. Not when the bitter answers its tides were ravenous for had finally sunk in.

He takes a deep breath, collecting his resolve.

“...what… what do you wish for?” Just how will this rendition end? Neuvillette doesn’t know.

But he knows his hands should hold onto yours, desperately etching the details of your tender touch into its memory. Rations to sustain him for the rest of a solitary eternity.

He hears your slow inhale, preparing your throat to speak your selfish desires.

“I wish for your curses to become mine alone to bear.” You reveal your selfish wish, pressing the voucher of freedom into his hands.

He had that look on his face again. Disbelief stupefied each muscle of his dashing face, wide eyes peering into yours trying to find the hint of a jest. Your gaze doesn’t waiver as your finger tightens around his.

“Grant me my wish… please.” Lips stretching with a reassuring smile.

His lips press into a thin line, face returning to its place between your warm hands, he takes a deep breath. Perhaps it’s just his sense of responsibility and fairness that compelled him to fulfill this wish.

Or maybe, the dragon just couldn’t help but submit to the whims of his beloved, a statement that remained no matter what rendition of the tale it was.

Releasing the breath he held, the shift in the air was palpable, a lightness in his chest. The pond off to the side billows momentarily, drawing focus toward its excited ripples.

Releasing his hold, feet leading him to the side of the saltwater before his mind could process his own actions.

He could hear it again, the hymns of the water singing the end of his exile. Reaching out a hand, it sinks past the cool surface, the tides welcoming back their prince with mellow kisses.

The ocean calls for him, so why is he still staring back at you? The one who’ll never embrace the sea again for the rest of her life, nor ever feel the sway of Summer days in a field full of Pluie Lotus. His eyes conveyed a question his lips couldn’t bear to ask. Thus, you give the answer he seeks.

“Think of it as my reparations to you, an overdue apology for my mistake, for making you to suffer so much.” That glimmer in your eyes, one he understands now.

Moving the hex to a body whose true master was the mistress of time, a body blessed with mortality. If a miracle isn’t enough to make a curse break, then perhaps the tides of time could.

Taking a piece of the curse with each tick of a clock, just like how the waves take with it grains of sand from warm beaches.

Once a withered mortal body is called back to the earth, the clauses will be fulfilled after many centuries. Unsettled grudges eroded away like those sandy banks.

Until the pull of the ground makes its visible influence on your skin. Until your locks come to resemble the snowy shade you’ve lovingly run your fingers through. Until the sweet earth hums for you to embrace it once more, you shall remain here.

What a clever scheme it all is, a masterful plan which could only ever be conjured by you. You devil, oh so devious, devil.

“You can hate me, I won't hold it against you,” you whisper. “May this tale end in your happiness, let me do this much for you.”

A bitter bile festers at those lies of yours. How could such lies fall from your lips so easily when they always left such a vile taste upon his tongue?

Gaze honed in upon your frame, watching the gentle smile hold back the slight quiver of your shoulders. He stands back up, slow strides returning him to your side. Taking your hands into his larger ones, placing your soft touch back along his cheeks.

“Silence… I won’t hear such deceit.” Snowy locks brushing against your fingertips.

“But I wasn’t lying…” Confusion furrows your brow, but your hands remain cupping his face.

Moving away, he studies the rivulets of regret and anguish that leave bitter trails down your cheeks. He swallows back the objections clawing up his throat, such vile words don’t belong on your tongue.

“How could I hate you?” he confesses.

Neuvillette has finally come to a realization. All those renditions, all those differing retellings of a classic tale. He had read them all wrong, basis clouding his interpretation.

For the princess did love her dragon. Just as he loved her, all this time.

Together in the depths of a cave away from the prying eyes of the divine. Breaths in time with one another as they stand in the embrace of one another, until the dragon bows his head back down.

Touching his forehead to hers, so that maybe Neuvillette could get a glimpse into that ever mystical mind of yours.

“How can I ever hate what I’ve coveted for so long?” He asks.

That ever-stirring torrent, that spiteful surge, where did it go? Those clamorous voices with their vengeful snarls and cynical bellows, why weren’t they intrepid enough to direct those foul words toward you?

Not you, never you. How could they ever hate you, the heroine of a Fontainian fairytale they’ve pitifully yearned for so long?

“Am… am I loved then?” Your lashes were squeezed shut as if death was rapping upon them. Too cowardly to face the verdict.

“Yes… yes, you devious devil…” Neuvillette couldn’t help but chuckle at such an endearing sight.

He feels your fingers tense around his skin, astonishment in the features of your face. It soon melts away into those welling pools as a smile pushes against the corners of your eyes.

Pressing your forehead to his, a warm droplet rolls down your cheek and over the curve of your lips. He simply rests his head against yours.

Only now in the last sentence of this retelling of a tale which has been twisted, distorted, and embellished away from the initial narrative did an unwritten truth emerge.

A clever maiden was just as foolish as a proud dragon. The weight of their foolishness was so great it dragged them beneath the waves and kept them in a cove deep away from the prying eyes of gods.

However, if this idiotic dragon could intertwine his fingers with yours. If he could be by your side until the hands of time call you back to the earth in this final rendition.

If he could be the happy ending you deserved, then he wouldn’t mind in the slightest.

Fin~

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