Eamon Commission!! Thank You @violetvase!!

Now this is a certified Crimson Flower™️ moment

Just found your blog & I'm in love with your writing 😍 If requests are open, may you please write about a yan!ceo & a worker y/n?

YAN!CEO x G/N WORKER

this is so sweet 😭😭🙏🏼🙏🏼 i saw this and was kicking my feet in the air twirling my hair

this is also my like softest yandere oc so far HELP

tw: yandere, stalking, obsessive behavior

"This one is probably the top employee of the month," his secretary told him, pointing to a picture of you on the papers he had spread across his desk. "They just came back from a break, so maybe they motivated themself to do better."

"(Y/N) (L/N)," he read your name, looking at your information. "I've never seen them before,"

"They're in the marketing team, you never paid much attention to the people in the team other than the leader, sir."

"Well, it's about time I get to know the top performers in my company, don't you think?"

His secretary nodded, "Absolutely, sir. (Y/N) has been consistently delivering exceptional results in marketing campaigns. The team has praised their creativity and dedication."

he's so sweet to you!! but it scared you since you weren't used to the ceo exactly paying any attention to you :(

he sometimes sees you working for long hours, coming to you to tell you, you can leave now, but feels his heart almost jump out when you say it's okay, you can work for a bit longer.

at times you thought he hated you, maybe he was trying to tease you? or what if he was out to get you? you tried to steer away from him, but it made him almost cry.

he probably tried following you home, but was so shocked to see your living conditions! (you lived in a normal home, he was just too rich) all of a sudden your bills are paid! by who? your landlady says it was by a young gentleman, he was very handsome, according to her.

gets you your favorite drink (he overheard about him from some other employees) almost every day! but he can't deliver it directly to you, since he can't let his own employees know he has favorites.

The OCs search history <3

Silas:

"How to take care of ptsd in partner"

"How to make someone stop crying"

"How to make your partner forgive you"

"Best restaurant"

"Dark web"

"Diamond ring/neckace/earrings/bracelet"

"Best steak"

"How to stop people from gawking at my partner"

"Protein powder"

"Best soap to wash away blood from skin"

"Best detergent to wash away blood from clothes"

"Best cleaning supplies to wash away blood from walls"

"Best spray to keep blood smell away"

"Five star restaurant booking"

"Why are my clothes thrown out the window?"

Dr Kry:

"Morphine"

"Book series without explicit scenes"

"Healthy recipes"

"How to frame someone for murder"

"Am I secretely perverted"

"Forged signatures without watermark"

"Protein shakes"

"What happens if you mix poision with alcohol"

"Puzzles"

"PG-13 rated movies without angst or horror"

"Plushies"

"Needles"

"How to become an author?"

"How to know if your strict childhood has had any impact on your mental health"

"How to get over your phobia for germs?"

"Strong caffeine drinks"

King Edmund (let's pretend he has internet for a hot minute):

"Is it really dictatorship if I let people complain"

"Ptsd test"

"Why doesn't my wife talk to me?"

"Nightmare analysis"

"How to cheer up an angry wife"

"Can a queen rule over a king?"

"How much alcohol can you drink before you get knocked out?"

"Beatiful dresses for a queen"

"Jewelry for a queen"

"Are public executions a good fear tactic?"

"How do women's anatomy work?"

"Can you punish theft by death?"

"Can you cook rats?"

"Why are little kids scared of me?"

Jerry:

"Is drinkable bleach a thing????"

"What to do if your s/o is a fucking loser"

"Is saying 'you're an idiot' synonyms for 'i love you'?"

"Guns"

"Knives"

"Sexy outfits that doesn't make me look like a fucking clown"

"How to ask someone out on a date without sounding like a loser"

"Impressive date ideas"

"Alcohol that will make me forget today, yesterday, tomorrow and a week forward"

"Spare parts to motorcycle"

"Why am I so fucking cool?????"

"Why am I so fucking miserable?????"

"How to hug your s/o without it being cringe"

"How to make your motorcycle go much faster?"

"Boxing gloves"

"40 boxes of *your favorite snack*"

Hedwig:

"Aestethic wedding ideas"

"Is baby trapping illegal?"

"Is nepotism really that bad?"

"How to guilt trip someone"

"Utterly obsessed with my partner"

"How to be a good kisser"

"Dark web"

"Buy hitmen"

"How to bankruptcy someone"

"How to impress your partners parents"

"Best flowers for dates"

"Best hotel resorts for couples"

"Can you become a super model without school grades"

"Love poems"

"Poison"

"*your adress*"

"Best perfumes to seduce someone"

"*your instagram*"

"*your name*"

"How do I know if I'm blocked on social media"

---

Hello! I hope that you are having a fantastic day 😊 May I please request some headcanons of what would yandere gov official do if his darling managed to successfully escape to another country?

ily violet

and government official would be delusional. initially he just thinks it's a cute little joke you're playing on him. oh? haha you're so cute!

but then you don't show up. you're gone. and he starts to panic. where did you go? are you still in the country? because he can't do much if you're out of the country yk?

he'll go insane, spending every waking moment trying to find you. oh... so you're gone gone. don't worry, he'll get you back... one way or another... he didn't waste half his life building connections with the Mafia and underground connections just for you to slip away from his hands like that.

and when you're finally safe and back in his arms, best be assured that you're never seeing the light of day again :3

follow @suiana for clear skin & watered crops frfr 💕💕💕

yandere! prince who got cursed and became a statue for like hundreds of years. only the kiss of his soulmate will break the curse that got cast on him by a silly wizard.

enter, you.

innocent and silly you, walking through the forest (maybe trying to look for your next monster hookup) before bumping into this... this beautiful marble statue of some prince??? what? who even is he?? why is he here???

is this... your main character moment? where you kiss him and the two of you fall in love and- haha! that won't happen! you're just being delusional!

of course, being the silly specimen you are, you still kiss his lips without thinking much of it. i mean, you fucked some monsters before. what's a marble statue gonna do? he's hot, might as well right?

WRONG.

you shouldn't have done that because the second you kissed him this bright light came bursting from his chest and now you were being kissed back by this random oldie who's now supposedly human again.

"ah...ah... are you my soulmate? god you're beautiful-"

"dude i just wanted to fuck some monsters."

unfortunately, no more monster fucking for you :( because this geriatric prince is jealous as FUCK and will absolutely go batshit bonkers if you as much as suggest looking at someone else.

"lol, that drider looks kinda hot-"

"ahaha what drider? *cleaning blood from his sword*"

he's made himself a part of your life, without your consent by the way, and it's going to stay that way. no, he doesn't care if he's from centuries ago, you're his and he's yours. that much is certain to him.

so now you have a god of a prince hovering by your side 24/7. plus side is you get to see him act like a grandpa with all the new technology and lingo!

"my dear, what is... sk... skebeede? skibidi? how do i exit this app? ah, i want to take a picture, how do i- *breaks phone screen*"

he's trying his best :( just love him dearly, won't you?

“Must have reliable transportation” = “this is how we legally discriminate against poor people who take the bus”

Thinking about how “Dorothea” means “God’s gift”

What her mother must have prayed for when she gave her daughter this name

How, despite this prayer, Dorothea didn’t have a Crest, which led to her and her mother being thrown out of her father’s house, leading to Dorothea’s mother dying a few years later and Dorothea growing up as an orphan on the streets

How one of Dorothea’s worst subject is Faith and subsequent white magic, displaying how little she believes in the Goddess she is supposed to be a gift from

How the other student who least believes in the Goddess and later even starts a war against the Church is Edelgard, bearer of the Crest of Saint Seiros and the Goddess’ Crest of Flames

How that same Edelgard is the one person in all of Fodlan who promises Dorothea to create a world where no child’s value will depend solely on their bearing a Crest or not. A world where Crest-less children will have just as many chances and opportunities for greatness as Crest-bearing children and won’t be belittled for their luck or lack thereof at birth

How, to Edelgard, who does not believe in the Goddess, falling in love with a woman whose name means “God’s gift” feels like a delightful irony, for Dorothea is everything the Goddess and the Church have cast aside, yet she shines brighter than the sun and her passion burns hotter than Edelgard’s flames

How, to Edelgard, Dorothea is the perfect example that the Church’s belief of Crest-bearing nobles being chosen and blessed by the Goddess, making them superior to others, is nothing but a web of lies, for if that were true, the Goddess would be a blind idiot for not blessing Dorothea so despite her being just as good or even superior to most nobles

How the bearer of the Goddess’ Crest and the Crest-less “God’s gift” join hands and work together to bring down the Church that oppressed them and countless others, then build a new system from the ground up to replace the old, broken one Saint Seiros created using the Goddess’ name

Oh the irony. Oh the symbolism. How perfect they are for each other.

---

mean prince

description: yandere prince x fem reader, yandere prince x princess, arranged marriage, toxicity, angst? cheating, when I wanna write sad things I listen to sad songs, it helps me loll

You stood before your betrothed, safely locking away any emotions that would cause you to scream and run away from this awful situation.

You didn’t want to be married to him! You didn’t want to be here! You just wanted to go back home.

Why weren’t you in your own kingdom, tending to your beautiful garden and doing your princess duties like usual. Why did this scum of a kingdom have to take over yours? And why were you being married to this awful prince.

His empty cold stare only made you shiver even more in this cold full church. You were too dazed to realize he had finished his fabricated vows until your mother snapped at you from the front row of seats. You hastily said those two words of imprisonment before having to give up your first kiss along with your life.

Even the wedding night was empty and cold, he wasn’t with you. You could only wonder in the uncomfortable setting on what he could possibly be doing to not spend the first night with his wife.

You stopped caring about what he could be doing and should be doing after that night. You decided you would act like a perfect wife, one that listened and did her duties to sit and look pretty.

You would lovingly speak to him as if you weren’t just trying to make this marriage easier. You would craft him cute gifts, like a new coat or shirt! You were also taught how to work with wood so you even created him a new handle for his knife!

This was before Xavier shut down all ideas of you continuing to work with wood.

“Stop working with wood, it’s unladylike! You should stay in your room where you’re supposed to be and be a regular wife. You certainly don’t want me to go and tell my mother and father that you’re not listening, right?” His tone was condescending like he was speaking to a small child.

You knew he had power of you, and lots of it. You didn’t want your family to get in trouble so you quickly stopped and continued trying to be the best wife you could be. Even if you cried yourself to sleep every night at the thought of you having to try and please him the next day.

He did that all the time though, smacking away any type of love you tried giving to him. If it was wrapped up then he would toss it away, if it was something romantic then he would push you away, telling you that he wasn’t interested today. Nothing seemed to pique his interests.

Except for the copious amount of women he was bringing into his room almost every night. You knew it was happening but you kept quiet, he probably didn’t even want to marry you either but likely had to for the succession of his parent’s kingdom taking over your family’s.

It was annoying though, it was annoying you every night when you would see him laughing and chatting with a gorgeous woman that would enter his room where you would have to hear the moans and whimpers of before another one came the next night.

That’s where you decided none of your efforts would work to please him so why would you continue?

He wasn’t worth your time!

If he was going to cheat then so could you!

You stopped giving Xavier gifts, affection and you definitely stopped asking him to consummate the marriage. You even brought along your own men to play with when you were bored.

It was honestly freeing to finally have peace with the fact that you didn’t have to wake up bright and early, being dressed by maids with puffy and heavy dresses that were probably the most expensive you’ve ever seen. It was even better when you realized you didn’t have to talk to him anymore!

When Xavier started noticing these differences he didn’t say anything at first. He could care less that you weren’t trying anymore. Until something nagged at him. Why weren’t you doing it anymore?

Did you stop loving him? Or did you never love him in the first place?

It honestly pissed him off even more when he started realizing that you were bringing men into your room as well. He hated hearing all the noises and words that came out of your room. He shouldn’t be hearing them from a different room. He should be with you.

He tried acting like it didn’t bother him. As if it didn’t the room didn’t feel empty without seeing you across the table in your seat. Even if he wasn’t talking to you, you would speak about what you did the past day and how the garden has been going.

That was pretty much the only thing he allowed you to do that seemed “wife like” which was to tend to the garden and water the flowers. Of course, the gardener could do that but it wouldn’t be the same to see your hard work pursue onto the beautiful blooming flowers.

Now that you weren’t giving him love or any thoughtful gifts, he felt odd. He wanted you to treasure him as your strong and handsome husband. He wanted you to love him again! He had no clue he would miss your affection so much until it was finally being taken away from him.

The roles were now reversed, Xavier would gift you the richest of silk, along with beguiling jewelry, with no avail, of course. You were finally happy with how the situation was and now he wanted to fix it?

You’d wake up to a new bouquet of roses at your bedside everyday. You never threw the plant gifts away because they were still alive and it wasn’t worth killing them just because you hated your husband.

“Hello my love, how did you sleep?” Xavier perked up at you entering the dining room, earlier than usual! You must have started warming up to his presence!

“Fine..” You tried rubbing the sleepiness out of your eyes after plopping down in the dining room chair. Today the maids dressed you up in a bewitching pink dress with golden patterns running all around.

“Would you like to sit closer? It feels rather odd having you so far away” He pat the seat closest to him, needing to feel your presence.

You mumbled an okay and attempted to bring your plate with you but a servant did that for you, quickly placing it before you once you sat down.

“I missed having you so close, remember the last time we were this close?” He held your hand in his much larger ones, kissing the top of yours.

“Our wedding? That was two weeks ago” You stared at him puzzled on why he’s been so affectionate lately. Maybe he finally wants to be a good husband but what caused this sudden switch?

“Mhm, I missed your touch” He held both of your hands and intertwined his fingers with yours. He really seemed like he craved your touch right now. You just couldn’t put your finger on why.

“Is there something you needed?” You took your hands out from his grasp and he tried hiding his disappointed frown.

“No, I just wanted to see my gorgeous wife, is that so wrong of me?” His grin widened seeing how you looked this morning. Sleepy, yet so graceful.

“The same wife that you’ve been cheating on since the start of your marriage? Or is it also the same one that you ignored too?” You scoffed at him trying to attempt at being affectionate. It was out of character for someone like him.

“Well, I’m not sure why you’re mentioning that right now when you’ve done the same! Anyways though, I wanted to talk about finally consummating our marriage” His popping vein on his forehead signaled his anger at the topic of you cheating as well but you didn’t notice anything other than his tone.

“Hah, you’re very humorous” You were in disbelief that now he wanted to act like the perfect husband. You got up, picking up your dress as to not wrinkle it under the sudden movement. You were definitely awake now.

“I’m being serious, what’s so funny about that?” he followed close beside you, as the two of you walked down the enormous hallways of his kingdom.

“Now you want to do that? Noww you do” You couldn’t help but laugh in his face once he looked at you. You couldn’t believe him one bit.

He spent the entire day trying to convince you, even if you made witty remarks and obvious insults, he’d just brush them off with a kiss on your cheek or compliment. He’d do anything to try and make you trust him.

Thank you so much for fulfilling my commission request! I enjoyed reading this story so much, and I really love how you gave the reader a lot of lore/background!

in the lion's keep

WARNING/S: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. Yandere. Noncon. Dubcon. Power Imbalance. Forced Pregnancy. Captivity. Manipulation. Psychological and Physical Control. Violence. Emotional Distress. Character/s: King Callixto x Servant!Reader Note/s: A commission for @violetvase. I hope you enjoy this one!

From this series: Silent Servitude

Tip Jar | Commissions

Your mother has always been your biggest supporter.

She never once stifled your dreams, no matter how small or ambitious they were. When you insisted on selling flowers in the town square on behalf of the old florist to earn your own keep, she worried, but she did not stop you. Your parents feared for your safety, but your older siblings watched over you, making sure no harm would come your way.

It lasted for months—until children your age began disappearing, vanishing one after another without a trace.

Your siblings stopped letting you leave the house after that. The warm sun, the scent of fresh bread in the marketplace, the laughter of the townsfolk—it all became distant, mere memories behind locked doors. You were forced to watch the world from behind wooden shutters, longing for the life you had barely begun to taste.

Years passed before they finally deemed it safe enough for you to step outside again. And when you did, you threw yourself into rebuilding.

With what little savings you had, you opened a food stall in the marketplace, selling treats that made both children and adults smile. Your business thrived. Customers returned with praises, telling you how much they enjoyed your cooking. It gave you a sense of purpose, a taste of the independence you had long craved.

Then, one night, your stall was stolen

Not just stolen—destroyed. Burned to ashes near the town's tavern.

No one saw anything. No one heard anything. No one even smelled the smoke.

The loss devastated you, snuffing out the fragile hope you had so desperately clung to. When you fell deeper into despair, your mother was the one who lifted you back up. She taught you the skills she had learned from years of working in the palace—how to clean, how to serve, how to navigate the world of nobility without drawing attention to yourself. You listened. You learned. And when she deemed you ready, you followed in her footsteps.

You had thought you were stepping toward a new beginning.

Instead, you walked straight into a gilded cage.

A warm calloused hand rubs slow circles over your bare stomach. Your body is sore, ruined, yet the touch is deceptively gentle—reverent even.

Callixto.

The King.

The man who had stolen you, body and soul, and refused to let go.

His breath is hot against your neck as he presses his lips there, inhaling you like a man intoxicated. He traces his fingers up your stomach, over your ribs, cupping your breast with possessive ease. You squeeze your eyes shut, bile rising in your throat as last night's memories resurface—the way he held you down, the way he filled you over and over until you were too weak to fight him.

“You're perfect,” he murmurs, rolling his hips against your back. “You'll be a wonderful mother to our children. The mother of my heirs… My queen.”

No.

Your breath shudders as you push weakly at his arm, but you might as well be trying to move stone. Your body betrays you—limp exhausted, drained of all strength.

How long has it been?

Days? Weeks?

You can't tell. The chamber windows are tinted, making it impossible to see the sun or the moon. And Callixto… Callixto never leaves your side for long. He lingers, watching you, touching you, whispering sweet, poisonous words into your ear.

The chambermaid is no help, either.

She either glares at you with thinly veiled disdain or ignores you completely, doing only what is required of her. You don't know why she hates you, but it doesn't matter. She's your warden all the same.

There's no one here for you. No mother, no siblings. No bustling marketplace or warm, flickering hearth waiting for you at home.

There's only this prison.

And him.

“Your Majesty,” the chambermaid's voice cuts through the heavy silence. “Lord Soleil awaits you at the gates.”

Callixto tenses, as if irritated by the reminder that the outside world still exists beyond these walls. His fingers dig into your hip as he thrusts forward once more, a sharp, punishing movement that sends a fresh wave of nausea rolling through you.

He finishes deep inside you, groaning against your skin. For a moment, he stays there, reveling in the feeling. Then, with agonizing care, he pulls out—only to press his fingers back inside, pushing his seed deeper.

A shiver wracks your body.

“I suppose I've stolen enough time for myself,” he murmurs, brushing damp hair away from your face.

You force yourself not to flinch.

Callixto cups your chin, tilting your face towards his. His golden eyes burn with something twisted, something sickeningly sweet. Then, he kisses you. A deep, lingering kiss that suffocates you more than any chain ever could.

“Stay here and be good,” he orders, his lips still brushing yours. “Let the chambermaid take care of you until I return.”

As if you have a choice.

As if you ever had a choice.

And when the doors finally close behind him, your body sags into the mattress, silent tears slipping down your cheeks. 

Not just for yourself.

But for the family you may never see again.

For the freedom that may never return.

And for the life that is no longer your own.

The towering walls of the chateau couldn't keep the rumors from reaching you. They were the only thing that kept you sane while you waited for him to return.

You heard whispers about a grand ball the Prime Minister held a few nights ago. It should've been a night of celebration, but instead, it ended in scandal. His wife, a noble woman and the daughter of a count, was caught in bed with a mere footman—nothing more than a commoner.

Lord Soleil, the Prime Minister, himself had walked in on them. The punishment was swift.

The footman was cast out with nothing, and the Prime Minister cut all ties with his wife and her family, erasing them from his life as if they had never existed.

A cruel fate. 

And yet you wondered…

Was it any crueler than yours?

“Perhaps this is why Lord Soleil was so determined to keep His Majesty away from the chateau—away from me. Not just to protect the royal bloodline, but to stop him from making the same mistake his wife did.” You sighed, your breath barely disturbing the still air.

“I can't even blame him. If I were in his position, I wouldn't want a common-born woman anywhere near the throne either. And yet, here I am—trapped in these gilded walls, reduced to nothing more than a vessel, waiting for the day my body finally serves its purpose.”

You leaned against the cool stone wall near the tinted windows, listening to the little birds outside as they carried rumors flitting between the flower beds. Their chatter was a fleeting distraction, a fragile moment of stolen peace—until it was shattered by the sound of heavy boots echoing through the halls.

The doors flew open, and there he stood. The King. Furious.

He called out your name—sharp, urgent, unrelenting—his voice slicing through the chateau hollow corridors like a blade. You didn't move. You barely even breathed. Instead, you pressed yourself against the cold stone wall, your fingers curling into your dress as his footsteps thundered across the marble floors.

He ran upstairs, frantic, taking the steps two at a time. He hadn't even noticed you standing near the windows, so close yet unseen. But you knew it wouldn't last. He always found you in the end.

Outside, the world had fallen eerily silent. The chattering birds had already fled the vicinity, as if sensing the storm brewing within these walls—taking their half-spun whispers with them. The rumor of the king's impending nuptials to a high-ranking noble still lingered in the air, unspoken yet suffocating.

And soon, he would come back down. And this time, he would see you.

Your name tore from his lips again—a furious, desperate plea. Before you could react, his hands found you, his grip ironclad around your arms.

“Where have you been?” His voice was raw, unsteady. His fingers dug in. “Didn't you hear me calling for you?”

“Y-Your Majesty…”

He shook his head. “No—my name.”

Bloodshot, unfocused eyes bore into you. Something was wrong. His gaze sent a slow, creeping dread up your spine.

“Say it.”

“C-Callixto…”

A slow nod. Then, his arms crushed you against him. “You're mine,” he murmured against your hair, his breath searing against your skin. “Forever mine. And I will be forever yours.”

The walls seemed to shrink around you.

“Callixto… Your Majesty… I can't breathe—” you rasped, struggling against his suffocating embrace. 

He didn't let go.

“Please…”

A beat of silence. Then, at last, he loosened his grip—but only slightly.

“Apologies, my queen,” he murmured, lifting your trembling hand to his lips.

Your pulse pounded in your ears. You had to calm him. You had to survive this.

You recalled your mother's old ways—how she soothed your father's anger, how she tamed your brothers’ tempers. Slowly, carefully, you reached for his cheek, brushing your fingers against his skin.

“Tell me your worries…”

“The royal court has been trying to push this woman onto me for as long as I can remember—something about securing the heir to the throne’s bloodline. The nerve of those fools,” he muttered, absently running his fingers through your hair as you lay atop him.

“If I wanted to, I could trace your family's lineage—alter it if necessary— and keep them out of our way.”

Listening to his monologue as you drift in and out of consciousness feels more exhausting than it should. You know you should try to persuade him to accept the will of his people, to yield to their demands—but deep down, you wonder if it would be easier if someone else had his full attention instead. If only he'd let you go.

“Perhaps we should secure an heir to the throne first… then we can look into your lineage…” he whispered, thrusting into you once more. His seed spilled from you as his movements grew more intense with every passing second.

Since then, it had become his ritual to fill you to the brim, keeping you in place—stuffed, trembling, and utterly his— until he was satisfied. Only then would he leave to rule his kingdom, but never without ensuring you remained exactly as he left you, his claim unmistakable. He controlled everything—the meals you ate, the tonics you drank—all carefully chosen to prepare your body for the sole purpose of carrying his heir.

You were his, and soon, you would bear proof of it.

It didn't take long for the signs to show.

The nausea. The exhaustion. The unbearable weight in your lower belly that told you something had taken root inside you.

And yet, luck has not abandoned you entirely.

Your chambermaid—a woman whose disdain for you was only rivaled by her loyalty to the royal court—had noticed. She must have. But instead of betraying your condition, she pressed a cold cloth to your forehead and muttered, “A commoner’s flu. Nothing more.”

A lie. A calculated one.

The King believed her.

But belief was fragile in a mind like his. It splintered easily.

His golden eyes flicked between the chambermaid and the royal physician, narrowed and gleaming, hungry for an answer that neither of them dared to give.

“Her color is pale,” Callixto murmured, pacing your chambers. His fingers twitched—fidgeting, trembling, curling into claws before stretching straight again. “She barely eats, barely moves. And yet you say it is nothing?”

The physician bowed his head. “It is a seasonal illness, Your Majesty. A touch of fever, some exhaustion—nothing that cannot be cured with rest.”

Callixto laughed—a dry, humorless sound. His nails dug into his palms, leaving little crescent moons of pain.

“Rest,” he echoed. His voice was a whisper of rage, of something darker crawling beneath his skin. “You think I have not noticed? She wilts before my very eyes, and you tell me to wait?”

The chambermaid stepped forward then, expression schooled into reluctant sympathy. “Your Majesty, she is weak. He kind does not fare well in the colder months. It is not surprising.”

Callixto stilled. His breathing slowed, deliberate, controlled—but his eyes never left her face.

“Weak?” The word came soft, almost thoughtful. “Is that what you believed?”

The chambermaid hesitated.

Something in the air shifted.

A warning.

Callixto's lips twitched—not in a smile, no. In something sharper. Something that showed his teeth.

“Fine,” he murmured. “If she must rest, then she will do so under your watchful eye. I want no one else near her.”

“As you wish, Your Majesty.”

But as the King turned away, the chambermaid gaze flicked down—her fingers twitching at the pouch hidden beneath her apron. The weight of the promised coin.

The chateau felt emptier than ever one evening. The halls echoed with the distant clatter of preparations from the palace—the banquet, the foreign dignitaries, the noble guests.

A distraction.

And when the chambermaid entered your chambers, her usual sneer was absent. Instead, she carried a bundle of clothing.

“You need to leave tonight.”

Your stomach twisted. “Why?”

“Because I tire of wiping your sweat.” She threw the bundle onto your bed. “Because I want you gone.”

You swallowed hard. “And that's all?”

The chambermaid exhaled sharply. Something in her posture—something tired and worn—hinted at an answer she would never give.

“The palace gates will be open for the banquet. No one will be watching the chateau. Take the back corridors, follow the outer gardens. You are not important enough to be noticed.”

“What do you gain from this?”

A smirk tugged at her lips. “What I was promised.”

You should've asked by whom. But you didn't.

The scream shattered the night.

“WHERE IS SHE?”

The chambermaid barely had time to compose herself before the doors to your chambers slammed open, cracking wood against stone.

Callixto stood in the doorway, his chest rising and falling with each uneven breath. His pupils had swallowed the gold of his irises, leaving only thin rings of amber around black pits. His fingers curled at his sides, nails digging into his own skin, but he did not seem to notice the blood welling beneath them.

His gaze snapped to the bed. Empty.

Something inside him snapped with it.

“Where is she?” he repeated, stepping forward, his voice no longer a demand but a plea.

The chambermaid bowed, but her voice was steady. “Resting, Your Majesty. The fever worsened—”

“Liar.”

The word cut through the room like a blade. The chambermaid flinched.

Callixto's hands trembled. “She would not leave her bed unless someone forced her to,” he whispered. His tongue darted out, wetting his dry lips. “Unless someone… took her from me.”

He turned, suddenly—too suddenly—and grabbed the chambermaid’s wrist.

“You would not betray me, would you?”

The chambermaid swallowed.

“Of course not, Your Majesty.”

His grip tightened. Bones creaked.

“No, of course not,” he echoed, smiling now—serpentine, sharp. His head tilted. “Because if you had…” he leaned closer, his breath warm against her ear. “I would tear this palace apart. Brick by brick. And when I found her—oh, when I found her—”

He released her.

“Find her,” he murmured. “Or I will find you instead.”

The chambermaid bowed, stepping backward toward the door. “As you command.”

But she didn't turn fast enough to see his lips curl into something… inhuman.

He turned back to the empty bed, trailing a hand over the sheets as if he could still feel you there. His fingers ghosted over where your head had once rested, then curled into the pillow, dragging it close. He inhaled—deeply, desperately—like a starving man before a feast.

His eyes fluttered shut.

“Oh, my love,” he whispered to no one. “You can run, but you cannot hide.”

The night air was crip—freezing against your cheeks, but blissfully free.

You ran. Through the outer gardens, past the dim lanterns, past the drunken guards too enamored with wine and revelry to notice a shadow slipping past them.

You ran until the scent of the palace faded into the trees. 

Home. You had to go home.

But when you reached the village outskirts, you stopped.

Guards. Stationed outside your family's home.

You shrank into the shadows, heart hammering against your ribs. From where you hid, you could see the single candle in the window—dim, unmoving.

Not flickering.

Not alive.

A silent warning: Do not return.

Tears burned your eyes, but you forced yourself to turn away.

Not toward another village. Not toward a stranger's mercy.

But deeper into the forest.

Through the twisting paths only you knew, past the moss-covered stones and the brook where you once dipped your toes in summer. Past the memories. Past the ghosts.

And there, hidden beneath the tangle of overgrown branches, the shack still stood.

You and your siblings built it once—when you were small, when the world was gentler. A childish hideaway, pieced together from stolen nails and planks too weathered to be missed. A place of whispered secrets and stolen sweets, of giggling beneath a roof that bare kept the rain out.

It was nothing.

But it was enough.

You pushed the warped door open and stepped inside, the scent of damp wood wrapping around you like an old embrace. The cold bit at your skin, but you knew how to survive here. You always had.

With shaking hands, you pressed your back against the wall and slid to the floor.

Outside, the trees whispered.

Somewhere beyond them, the King was hunting.

But you would not be an easy prey.

Not here. Not yet.

—

tbc.

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