#Chidi x reader

[siren-sashimi]

Hey, I had some questions about your marquis de gramont ballet fic

1: how does the reader do under Vincent’s tuleage

2: I know you said that chidi tries to know things about ballet to connect with the reader but does he ever make a move (I.e asking the reader out)? If so, does the reader reciprocate his feelings?

3: does Vincent ever find out about chidi’s crush? If so, does he support chidi or does he block him?

4: If he blocks chidi is it out of professional disdain (like “you’re both working with me, I don’t want you dating”) or is it because HE also feels something for the reader and wants to pursue them

Hello Anon! :D

Alright, the reader dating Chidi under Vincent's patronage was a separate story coming to my mind which might branch off from Hemimetabolism.

So generally, even without Vincent as romantic endgame, Vincent is very much someone who doesn't dish out favours without the work if he doesn't want to. And Vincent wants someone who does work for the money he pays and the prestige he gives them. Meaning, he sees a lot of potential in the reader but also demands them to overcome any restraints and doubts to give it their all. He wants the reader to focus and set clear goals. Casting choices, landing good spots is an easy exercise in influence for him. Actually it's not that bad to work in an artistic arrangement for him you're mostly left alone. But when demands to deliver you have to deliver in best form. So the reader is constantly labouring on, reflecting, ironing out details in their work. The thing is, it can mentally separate this protegée from their environment because they don't have to compete anymore against someone but only need improve for this man. And the oportunities he offers are amazing. Although be it, if Vincent wants to see you dance for the company in St. Petersburg the reader has to out all their effort to be worthy of St. Petersburg. At some point humoring Vincent becomes a runner because he's so enrapturing, he can easily outshine anything else in the reader's life.

Okay now to a plot bunny with Chidi. *rubs hands and cackles* As far as Chidi sees it both of you are employees under Vincent. While you might get a bit more pampered that treatment is more due to the nature of your job. In the end Vincent isn't too emotionally attached to any employee, loosing them is a mere loss of good staff. (Unless Vincent is personally more interested but that's another story. ;))

Let's say on the ocassions they meet Chidi isn't directly flirting, at least not with his boss present but he smiles at, compliments, and sometimes even makes little jokes with the reader. Intensity growing with each meeting. And it's nice. Nothing obtrusive but a relief to have someone be nice to a reader when they have to approach a very demanding Marquis de Gramont. Not that Chidi can't be nice to other people but he opens himself up because he is crushing on you. Only after you're noticeably easy going with him, he begins to flirt with you when you're on a coffee break, whenever Vincent happens to be in town.

On the reader's part it is all more a classical case of slowly building up romance with a a guy at work who seems nice enough to try going on a date with. Event though the work is on a shadier side life. Oh yeah, Chidi dating the reader is something needs to notice for a very long time. Again, Vincent is too absorbed in his own matters to spend much time thinking in any humane way about his employees. Maybe it takes such an obvious scene as him seeing Chidi hand you a bit bouquet backstage and kissing your cheek after a performance of yours.

Now, two outcomes: 1. If Vincent sees the reader purely as employed for "art for art's sake" then he might maybe sit the two of you down and make some things very clear. In the end he tolerates it more than he approves, afterall the reader could've dated anyone while under patronage, in this case it just happens to be Vincent's bloodhound. (Vincent just didn't think about it before.) The Marquis' demands are super invasive, during the talk the reader feels more like property than a person. The Marquis "allows" this relationship to happen under the condition that you remain "intact". Meaning: No injuries, no marks on stage (this is not the right moment to remind the Marquis that stage make up exists), no pregnancy, any personal drama shall not affect your performance, no romance related retirement for both of you. Chidi is less shaken by the speech than the reader is as he already lives a life under similar conditions, all submitted to the will of the Marquis de Gramont. Safe to say, while the incident of conditional speech is unnerving, Chidi and the reader can go on as usual.

2. Alternative if Vincent harbors a crush on the reader. Oh boy, does he become possessive. Chidi's very much used to Vincent's mercurial personality as well as living a life with the primary raison d'être: All for the will of the Marquis de Gramont. Vincent retaliates by first forbidding Chidi to see you (no explanation as to why,) even goes so far to switch the Myrmidone who accompanies him for cultural excursions. Chidi is very much unhappy about this but his life is so centered around the Marquis that his resistance lies only in a very honest letter to the reader. In which he writes that he's forbidden to see you, what he loves about you, how much he wishes for you prospering. Time by time Chidi is ever so romantic sending a bouquet anonymously. The reader knows it was him, the bouquets always bear at least one one of their favourite flowers.

It's not like as if Chidi doesn't suspect the Marquis acting out of personal impulse but it's not in their relationship to question the Marquis. At least Vincent is intelligent enough to pursue the reader under Chidi's notice. One has to keep their employees somewhat happy, aka not give them a reason to revolt or quitting the job. But Vincent could enter unsavory territory by explaining to the reader dating would ruin their performance (again, if he wasn't interested he would only care if relationships actually interfered with the reader's work) while slowly but surely dismantling the reader's defenses around him. Like invading their privacy more and more by having unnecessary personal meetings, sending the reader clothes and jewelry he wants to see the reader wearing for him on galas or charity events, secretly odering the costume staff to design the reader's costume in a way he likes to see on them. Vincent will also aggressively try to outmatch anyone nearing you. You were invited for a date? Ah, it just happens that Vincent would like to have a performance review. Someone showed interest in you? Their past dirt is dragged out without mercy. You privately show signs of unhappiness to be this lonely? Suddenly the Marquis de Gramont is personally at your doorstep and shows a previously unknown capability of attentiveness.

[vigsilantes]

[On a mission, Adrian and Y/N are trying to find a way out of a building]

Adrian, messing with a locked door: Babe, help me with this door!

Y/N: They said everything’s locked, it’s not gonna open…

[Adrian grabs a lamp and throws it at the door, trying but failing to break the window]

Y/N, whispering: VIG?!?!!

Adrian: What? You know this is how I always get out of escape rooms! If you break enough stuff, they open the door and kick you out!

Y/N, sighing then chuckling: Yeah, yeah you’re right.

[elliotsgrl]

when you have to write fics yourself bc there are aren't any for the characters you want to read fics about <<<<< and to get the hashtag saturated it means you have to pump fics out like a machine <<<<

[madwomansapologist]

Chidi+ it's time to go

Taylor Swift Writing Challenge: it's time to go

Masterlist | Rules | Taglist | Library | More Chidi Anagonye | #taylor swift writing challenge | AO3

synopsis: The only way to guarantee that people on The Good Place could live a meaninful afterlife was to make sure that they could die. You just didn't imagine Chidi would ever make that decision.

warnings: angst. pure angst. i'm so fucking mad someone else made the conection between that song and that character and it wasn't me. i'm not over his death, okay? it still hurts.

ps: i swear to god, you anon that made that decision it's a horrible horrible human being. how can you do that to me? that song. that character. after the finale. that was mean. fucking mean. an asshole move, to be honest. love ya.

You knew exactly what Chidi was going to say before he even opened his mouth. Still, hearing each word spoken with that constant care of his broke your heart. A thousand poisoned cuts in your soul. You drank the rest of your wine.

"How do you know?" You were trying not to cry, and not a single tear was spilled, but you couldn't control your lachrymose voice. "How can you be sure you won't regret it? You don't know what will happen. No one does. What if you prefer this life?"

Chidi took the cup from between your fingers and covered your hand with his. It was so warm, so domestic, how could Chidi be so affectionate after saying he was going to walk through the door? No. This must be a dream. An mean and bitter dream.

"When the dinner gets cold and the chatter gets old", Chidi spoke with his teacher's voice. "You ask for the tab."

"It's different." You hold his hand, like your grip would be enough for him to not walk away. "It's not the same."

"It's." Chidi smiled, and a tear almost fell. "Sometimes you just know. You know when it's time to go."

You could her the snaps from the same little breaks in your soul. "Please... Don't leave me alone. Don't make me live without you. Stay with me. Haunt me."

Chidi caressed your face, held it as if it were the most delicate thing in the world, and kissed you. You felt the taste of farewell. The iron of certainty. "Don't give up on me", you plead. You face was pure salt. "You don't even know what will happen to you."

"Imagine a wave in the ocean. You can see it, measure its height, the way the sunlight shines through it. You can see, you know what it is. It's a wave. And then it breaks down on the beach and disappears. But the water is still there. The wave was just a different way of being from water for a brief moment. This is the Buddhist conception of death: the wave returns to the ocean, where it came from and where it should be.

"But what about me?" You licked the salty lips of crying.

"One day you will go after me. I'll be waiting for you." Chidi spoke gently, but you saw his tears forming. "One day you'll when it's time to go and then... you just go."

"Don't leave me now." You asked him. "Go by the morning. When I'm still sleeping."

"Okay." Chidi kissed you again. "Okay."

GENERAL TAGLIST: @suakemi @notanalienindisguiseblink

THE GOOD PLACE TAGLIST: @suakemi @notanalienindisguiseblink

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

[quollstar]

Devil in Disguise; ch1

michael (the good place) x reader

warnings: this is a pairing between you and unreformed demon michael, aka before the team cockroach storyline, aka he's evil and mean. what can i say. be mindful that he's going to call you names and stuff so if that makes you upset be careful reading!

notes: there isn't too much actual plot here. basically reader/you are a fifth member of the group of humans michael is torturing. this is somewhere reboot like 300 or something. this work does include use of "Y/N"!

You were pretty sure the Architect was a demon.

It wasn't an easy conclusion to come to. Not at all. And you definitely didn't want to think that, not when you had previously believed you were in Heaven, and believing anything else meant that you were definitely in Hell. He wasn't particularly obvious, either, so long as you weren't looking. He played the part of the helpful, well-meaning, a-little-bit-clueless Architect so well that you wondered if it was a part at all.

Then the mask would slip for just a moment. He would say something so cruel that he had to have known it was hurtful, or he'd smile to himself when he shouldn't and he thought no-one was looking; but you were always looking. Really, your stupid crush on him was the only reason you suspected him at all, because you always wanted to be near him, and thus were always there for his slip-ups.

A few misplaced grins could be excused (he didn't know a lot about humans or social norms after all) but after a while it was a pattern. Maybe you only started looking because of your past experiences with manipulative liars on Earth, or maybe you never really believed you were in The Good Place at all; but either way, it seemed like you were the only one with any suspicions. So you started keeping a mental list of everything he did that just seemed off. Eventually it got so long that you couldn't excuse it. He wasn't what he seemed, and one day, you decided you were going to confront him about it.

So now, here you were. You'd asked if you could speak to him privately and he had obliged, looking equal parts confused and concerned as he ushered you into his office. The place was familiar from when you'd first 'woken up' here, been told where 'here' was, and that you'd made it and now you could enjoy your afterlife. It had been perfect until it wasn't, and you didn't like being forked around with, thank you very much. You tried to hold on to that energy as you passed through the hallway ("Welcome! Everything is fine." Yeah, right.) and took your seat in front of his desk.

Still, sitting across from him now, you started to doubt your suspicions again. You'd always been a paranoid person on Earth; wasn't it possible that you were just thinking too far into things again? And maybe he was just an idiot; maybe he didn't understand how to be nice to people yet. You'd known plenty of actual humans who still didn't grasp that concept, so really, shouldn't he get a pass?

But then you remembered your list; all the times he had laughed when Eleanor would trip, and then tried to cover it up with a cough; all the times he'd backhandedly called Tahani a failure to her face and she'd had to hold back tears; all the times he had oh-so-conveniently forgotten to mention that, by the way, there would be fun, new things involved today, even though he knew Chidi hated not knowing things like that beforehand. Given as the neighborhood had only started five months ago, there was no explanation for just how many times he'd managed to mess up, unless the reason was that he was trying to mess up.

So you'd set your jaw, even as the perfectly realistic look of concern on his face stayed, and he'd tented his hands under his chin and asked you, "What can I help you with?" He looked so much like a not-man afraid of learning that his resident was unhappy that it nearly made you waver again (Fork, he was good at that) but you held strong.

No point in beating around the bush. "This isn't The Good Place."

"I beg your pardon?"

"This is The Bad Place, and you're a demon."

He froze for just a second too long before knitting his eyebrows and slowly blinking once, twice, all the while still staring at you with very apparent shock.

Finally he spoke, calm as ever, aside from the note of surprise in his voice. "Why would you think that?"

You couldn't believe he was still committed to the bit, but then again, you didn't really expect him to throw up his hands and say, 'you got me!'.

You huffed. "There's a lot of reasons, man, but how about we start with my biggest one: you're kind of an ash-hole."

He didn't speak, just kept looking at you (rather uncomfortably), so you filled the silence for him.

"You're constantly condescending in a way I could excuse at first 'cause, hey, you're not human, but then you go and keep pushing everyone's buttons even though, realistically, you should know what's a sore subject- because you know everything! You're mean to Tahani and Jason, you're always putting Eleanor in stressful situations, you're downright cruel to Chidi, and that leads to my next point: you're never not around the five of us. Like, don't you have other residents?"

You paused to give him a chance to offer a rebuttal (and catch your breath), but he stayed quiet. In fact, his face had shifted to one of mild boredom over the course of your rambling, and you balked at him incredulously.

"You don't have anything to say? 'Cause I can keep going, I have a whole list–"

"To be honest, I'm just surprised you actually figured it out."

You mirrored his expression from before, blinking at him slowly.

He sounded completely different, like he'd undergone a total tonal 180°. Not only was his voice different, he looked a lot more sinister now, having finally dropped the mask of concern. His brows were raised over his glasses and his mouth was a flat line, and though he was in the same pose as before, now his tented hands looked devious rather than accommodating. His eyes were half narrowed behind the lenses, looking right at you unwaveringly.

The change was enough to shock you into silence for the time being. To be honest, even though you were pretty confident in your theory when coming here, you'd almost wanted to be wrong. Maybe he would have laughed at you good-naturedly, or asked you if you were feeling alright, then said something to explain his behavior; something that would quell your fear beyond all doubt. You'd have a conversation with him about treating your friends better (he'd say something like, "I'm so sorry, I had no idea!" and it wouldn't be a lie) and you'd be able to go back to enjoying your afterlife, now with a more open relationship between all of you and the Architect overseeing your paradise.

That would have been great, but obviously, it would never happen. He'd confirmed your fears rather than assuage them, and now you were sitting in a small room with a not-man you now knew to be a demon. One that had been torturing you this entire time. One that was watching all of this dawn on your face with a budding grin on his own.

You swallowed, then cleared your throat, trying not to look at his mouth. You were pretty sure his teeth looked sharper now than before, and you didn't want to think about that. Instead you spoke, forcing your tone to remain even and unconcerned. "So, I am right? You're… this is all just an elaborate torture scheme?"

"Yeah, dummy, and to be honest, you took a lot longer to figure it out than I thought you would. If it were Jason, sure, I could excuse it, because that guy is so stupid," he cut himself off by laughing, an evil sort of chortle that didn't feel right coming from the Michael you knew. Though, you supposed, this wasn't the Michael you knew, but instead the one you'd caught glimpses of under the surface since getting here. And man, he was a lot meaner than you could have guessed.

He shook his head, giggles subsiding as he leveled you with an almost disappointed look. "But you? I really expected more from you at the start. I mean, in the hundreds of times we've been through this, this is the first time you've ever been the one to call me out!"

"I'm sorry, hundreds of times–?"

"Yes, hundreds. Each time one of you– it's just you five, by the way, you got that right too; everyone else is one of us– each time one of you figures it out, I just wipe your memories and we start over. Back to square one, as it were. It's great."

He grinned widely as he waved a hand, bringing up a sort of floating computer screen to his left. On it was a chart with a bunch of lines marking different restarts, if you had to guess; some no taller than an inch and a couple that stretched off the top of the screen. Most, though, seemed to hover around the same height, including the highlighted one at the very right. Your current timeline. Probably. To be honest, your head was still reeling from Michael's abrupt change in attitude, so you weren't feeling too sharp. In fact, you felt a little sick to your stomach.

Michael was still talking, gesturing to different points on the chart and explaining his favorite events in those timelines (apparently at one point, you'd been trapped inside a torture obelisk for a month which was– direct quote– "super fun") but you didn't hear much, or at the least you didn't comprehend what you were hearing. It was just too much information overload.

"–Hey, dummy, you look a little pale– you're not going to throw up, are you? Because as embarrassing as that would be for you, and how fun it would be for me, I don't really want to have to clean that up." He waved his hand in front of your face a few times until you focused back on him.

"Why are you telling me all of this?"

He sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose beneath his glasses. "Obviously, because I'm going to restart again, so it doesn't matter. God, you really aren't bright, huh? I mean, in the very first version of this, Eleanor was already coming up with a plan to get ahead of me once I restarted it, and it only took her like a minute. It didn't work, of course, but at least she thought of something. You're just sitting there with your mouth open like an idiot." He snapped.

You couldn't really help it; you winced. His biting tone was a little too alike to all the shitty men you'd met on Earth, and if there was one thing you were excited for when you thought this was The Good Place, it was the unspoken promise that you'd never have to deal with that kind of man again.

Maybe it was even worse coming from him because you'd thought, at one point, that he was your friend. If not a friend then at least someone who had your best interests at heart. Even if it was never true, it still stung to have him sneer and call you an idiot.

Michael dropped the smirk, replacing it instead with a fake pout; pushing his bottom lip out mockingly. "Are you offended? No, don't answer that; I know you are. I hurt your fragile human feelings. Poor baby." He shifted forward, hands flat under his chin as he leaned on his elbows. The elegant desk wasn't big enough to keep him out of your space and you did your best to hold your ground even as he invaded your personal bubble. "I can see those tiny cogs turning– no, literally, I can see your brain move when you think, it's actually very gross… So what are you thinking about? What's your plan here; what's the play? Whatever you're thinking, let me tell you, it's not gonna work." Ending the mocking with another bout of wicked laughter, he watched you expectantly, condescending sneer back on his face now.

Refusing to back down, you stared back at him, trying to look unbothered even while your mind raced. All of this had been for nothing; all the ethics lessons with Chidi, getting to know your new friends (who were the only other humans here, apparently, so you guessed it was a good thing you'd never decided to hang out with anyone else); all of it was pointless because you were just going to do it all again. So, you figured, if none of this mattered, you could afford to act a little brash.

"What are you thinking?" Michael reiterated, calm as ever, wholly unworried. Why should he be?

"I'm wondering if demons can feel pain."

"Why–"

You cut him off when you punched him in the jaw. You had absolutely no idea what possessed you to do so; you were normally a non-confrontational person, but learning you've been forked with for months, maybe years when you count every stupid reboot, will do that to someone– make you more aggressive. It wasn't hard to do given how close he'd gotten while antagonizing you, but shirt, did it hurt like a bench.

You shook your fist out, wincing at the sting. Your knuckles would bruise for sure if given the time, but you had the feeling Michael was going to reboot you pretty soon, so that hardly mattered.

Focusing back on the demon you'd just socked across the face, you weren't too shocked to see that he'd hardly moved with the blow. His head had turned just a bit, and his glasses were slightly askew, but he definitely wasn't bruised or bleeding. For the most part, he seemed relatively unaffected.

Well, maybe 'unaffected' wasn't the right word.

Michael's expression made you wonder if he'd ever been hit before. The pure shock (and even a little bit of awe? Respect? You were probably hallucinating) on his face made you think that he probably hadn't, and it brought you some sick joy to think you might be the first to humble him like that.

You allowed yourself a victorious smirk as Michael slowly put himself back together; silent as he straightened and righted his glasses on his nose. "Has that ever happened in your hundreds of reboots?"

He regarded you in silence for long enough for your smirk to slowly melt as you were reminded that, oh, right, this is the demon in charge of literally torturing you, and maybe you should not have done that. To be fair to yourself, thoughtful decision making was never your strong suit, even when you were still alive. Even so, this was probably your worst one yet.

You refused to apologize, though; groveling would get you nowhere. Instead you lifted your chin and stared back at him as he lounged, calm as ever, head resting in one hand and legs spread– the picture of ease. Actually, regretfully, it wasn't the worst sight in the world, which was a forked up thing to think given everything about the situation you were in. But if thinking with your dick at the worst moments possible wasn't the most human thing imaginable, you didn't know what was. It's pretty much the only thing you can count on a person for.

"...No, Y/N, I can't say that anyone has ever been stupid enough to try something like that."

end of chapter one!

there currently is no chapter two, but i'm getting there. if you wanna read that when it goes up the link is here:

[chiffxna]

A Love Too Dark (06)

The Marquis Vincent de Gramont x Reader

Chapter 06: Lives In His Hands

WARNING: THIS IS A DARK FIC.

This story will contain 18+ mature themes, blackmail, forced kissing, dark romance, toxic behaviour, blood, violence, stalking, manipulation, a lot of smut, dubious consent, non-consensual content, non-consensual creampie, breeding, yandere Marquis de Gramont, power play, and power imbalance, obsession, dark Marquis de Gramont, and abuse of power. The list will be added more as the story progresses. Minors, don't read.

Story Masterlist

PREV : Chapter 05

NEXT : Chapter 07

Chapter Summary:

The Marquis invaded her lifestyle as much as he wanted.

The Marquis was agitated.

The moment Yn turned her head and prevented his attempt to kiss her on the lips, he became agitated. As he watched her scramble into the limousine to avoid any conversation with him, he had to take a deep breath, making his chest and shoulders lift up, and exhaled it in a quiet irritation. He felt his eye twitch in slight anger for what she did.

He was contemplating pushing her down in the limousine and fuck her hard in front of his bodyguards, but he remembered that the both of them were expected to meet that evening at the casino. So he nodded his head to Chidi and let him drive her off. Watching the vehicle disappear from his sight, he began to plan what he would do to her once they meet at the casino.

However, that evening, he had waited for her for a long while. He had to scour every inch of the casino to ensure that she was not hiding from him. His agitation was plain to see as many patrons and even the casino staff were hesitant to talk to or serve him. His dark eyes were surveying everything and everyone wildly, searching for the woman who had warmed his bed and made him feel in heaven last night.

But he could not find her.

It took him two hours to finally surrender and approach Malone to ask about her. The managing director was obviously frightened as everyone could see how unhappy the Marquis was.

"Where is Yn?" inquired the Marquis. His eyes were ablaze with darkness and silent fury as he towered over the managing director of the casino.

"Oh... Yn... Well..." Malone was even more terrified then and the Marquis noticed this. It was at this moment that he knew that something had happened concerning Yn, and he might loathe whatever it was, judging from Malone's horrified expression.

The Marquis' eyes narrowed and his glower deepened as he waited for Malone to spill it out. He was about to growl at him when Malone finally cracked.

Malone was looking away to the side as he answered, "I just received a letter from Yn. She has... decided to quit as a bunny-girl in this casino."

The Marquis' eyes widened at this and he could not help but snarl, "What?"

"She... she has quit, sir," Malone stammered, still staring at the side, clear of eye contact with the Marquis.

"Show me the letter," the Marquis said with a demanding tone.

"It's... umm..." Malone fetched a folded piece of paper from his pocket with a trembling hand before he gave it to the current owner of the casino.

The Marquis stared down at the letter, his lips thinning into a straight line, as he was given evidence that plainly showed that Yn was really quitting. After a few seconds of tense silence, he grabbed it and read it.

He read it again.

And again.

He was so angry that he almost tore the paper into shreds in his hand. His knuckles turned white from the force of his grip on the letter. He could feel his anger rising up like a tidal wave inside his chest, threatening to spill out at any moment. But he was not a man who let his emotions rule his actions in public. No. Not when he noticed many staff of the casino were observing him and Malone.

To make matters worse, the Marquis could not take his mind off of what had transpired between them that night.

The way she opened her mouth wide helplessly and let him ravage her with his tongue.

The way she squirmed and moaned helplessly beneath him.

The way her swinging legs felt around his waist as he pounded hard into her.

The way her breasts bounced hard against her chest, jiggling each time he rammed into her relentlessly.

The way her pussy tightened around him.

The way her body felt as if it was made for the Marquis to fuck hard and deep.

The memory of her muffled cries and screams of pleasure made him feel as if she was a prisoner of war, who was being conquered and violated by a cruel invader.

After it was all over, the Marquis yearned to feel her body again. The two of them were so compatible sexually that it made him feel on cloud nine. He thought Yn feel that too, but he was dumbfounded and enraged to realize that she had evaded his kiss when he sent her off. Right in front of all his bodyguards. It hurt his pride and ego.

Then, seeing the letter was like a knife stabbing into his heart.

Does she hate him that much that she decided to quit to not see him again?

His lips were contorted into a frown as the Marquis crumpled the paper in his hand and threw it away. Then, he grabbed Malone by his collar and pulled him closer. The shorter male yelped in shock as he gawked at him in fear.

"Nobody is quitting," the Marquis hissed, "Don't forget your place, Malone. Only I can say who quits. Understood?"

"Y-yes, sir," Malone stuttered as he nodded his head vigorously.

Suddenly, the Marquis pushed him away, simultaneously letting go of his collar, and he watched as Mr. Malone stumbled backward until one of the bunny-girls helped him up. The Marquis remembered her as Emily. He paid her no mind as his eyes shifted back to the managing director who was adjusting his appearance.

"You've made a mistake for not informing me this sooner. As the owner, I should know everything first. You would do well to remember that, Malone," commanded the Marquis as he glared down at him.

"Yes, sir," the managing director nodded his head rapidly.

The Marquis spun around and walked away, heading towards his office. He could feel the eyes of the staff members on him as he walked and knew that his display of anger had not gone unnoticed. He was too angry to care right now, however, as all he could think about was Yn.

He shut the door behind him and quickly took a few steps forward before turning around and bringing his gaze to the gigantic abstract art which was the beginning point of the Marquis and Yn. His chest heaved with frustration before he finally let out a deep sigh of resignation.

He had planned many things that evening - filthy things he desired to do to Yn - but Yn had quit without telling him. He wanted to teach her that it was useless to evade him and his advances and to make her submit to him, but she had quit.

And he felt betrayed. He felt disrespected. She had quit behind his back. As soon as she left his mansion, she immediately plotted her escape and quit the one thing that caused them to meet.

Was she too afraid of him?

Had he scared her that badly?

Suddenly, the door to his office was pushed open. Chidi entered, closing the door behind him, and stood there, clasping his hands together in front of his body. He stared at the Marquis in silence, awaiting any command from him, as if he expected he would get one soon from his boss.

"Is the tracker in the necklace functioning?" inquired the Marquis to his loyal bodyguard in French.

"Yes," Chidi answered in French as well, "You can see the live feed directly from the app I installed on your phone."

The Marquis dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out his smartphone. He looked through the apps inside the gadget until he found one that he had never seen before. He clicked it and the screen told him it was loading the feed. It took the system several seconds before the screen changed to show a map with a red dot in the middle. It was located in a dismal apartment area, unmoving.

"That is where she lives," pointed out the Marquis, before his finger slid across the screen to check for the history of where she had been since he gave her that necklace with an embedded tracker which she was clueless of.

He learned that as soon as she was dropped off at the Silver Crest Apartments, she rushed straight to the nearest clinic. The Marquis figured it out in an instant that she went there for the morning-after pills - and he was uncertain what to think of it.

But he felt it. A storm of emotions, a sense of betrayal, indignation, and anger as he absorbed the knowledge that Yn had taken the morning-after pills after he had fucked his cum into her many times. It was a calculated move, he realized, an attempt to erase every trace of him from her life, both physically and emotionally. The realization stung him deeply.

The sense of possessiveness he harbored towards Yn intensified. The thought of her attempting to sever their connection, to quit her casino duties and evade him, ignited a fire of fury within him.

He saw Yn's actions as a challenge, a direct affront to his power and control. She sought to break free from the chains he had forged, and he couldn't allow that defiance to go unanswered. Instead, he viewed it as an opportunity to reclaim his authority and remind her of her place.

Turning his attention to Chidi, the loyal bodyguard, the Marquis issued a command in French filled with a resolute determination, "Chidi, find out everything you can about her. Her family, her past, her whole life. Everything."

He wanted to know everything about her before he makes his first move to find and reclaim her.

Chidi nodded instantly, "Understood."

He then spun around and left the office, leaving the Marquis much to mull over as he stared at the red dot over the map on his phone screen. He zoomed in on the location and gazed at the area she lived in, realizing it was a poor and dingy venue.

He began to wonder if she took on the casino job for money to attain a better lifestyle for her and her family. It's not odd to think about it. It made sense in his head and he began to wonder if that was the reason why she asked for a compensation of fifty thousand dollars for taking her and her virginity forcefully, which allowed her to quit her job at the casino.

He then studied the history of where she had been that day and he became even more befuddled. For what reason did she go to the preschool and the local hospital? He had to inform Chidi and ask him to find out more about this.

Chidi returned after only a few hours with every bit of information he could find on Yn in such a short time. And it was at that moment the Marquis learned that Yn hid a lot of things regarding her personal life and that she had also lied to him.

Yn had informed him that her mother did not work and was a stay-at-home mother. Yn helped provide for her while she implied that her father was never there for them. She lied .

She did not mention that she had a younger sister - a stepsister, in fact, named Sydney.

She and Yn shared the same mother but had different men as their father. Thankfully, Chidi provided extra information concerning this - Yn's father filed a divorce as soon as Yn was born. Sydney's father, however, was merely a boyfriend to their mother at the time, and their relationship ended in an instant while the latter was pregnant.

Not only was the Marquis flabbergasted about that, but also the fact that Yn's mother was actually taken care of in the hospital for an illness that requires expensive treatment. Once Chidi informed him of the exact amount of money for such treatment, the Marquis finally understood Yn's goal and the probable reason for taking on the casino job - and also for the 50k she had asked for.

The revelation of Yn's hidden past left the Marquis with a mixture of surprise and newfound understanding. It became clear to him that she had been driven by the need to support her ailing mother and step-sister, Sydney. The truth behind her actions unraveled like a tapestry, exposing the intricate threads that wove together her motivations.

He had been blind to the depths of Yn's struggles, her sacrifices, and the burdens she bore. Her desperate plea for fifty thousand dollars, which he had seen as a mere negotiation tactic, now held profound significance. It wasn't just about replacing the loss of her virginity; it was about securing the means to care for her family and ensure her mother's costly treatment.

The Marquis felt a surge of understanding, though it warred with his possessiveness. He understood her desire for control over her life and her choices, even if he didn't approve of the way she'd gone about it. The morning-after pills were a stark reminder of Yn's determination to protect herself and her future from the consequences of what he did to her.

He decided that his first move would be to find Yn and confront her but he had to make sure that she couldn't escape from him again.

And he knew one thing that would make her stay silent and obedient. He glanced at the ID picture of her mother and stepsister.

That's how he came to the hospital days later. Oh, charming her mother was very easy. All he had to do was look wealthy and tell her his name. She was exceptionally elated to hear the lie that he was her daughter’s boyfriend.

And when Yn finally arrived, he loved how she gawked at him in complete fear and shock once she saw him talking to her mother. He could literally feel that power and dominance back as he sucked every bit of self-dependence and security from her as she registered the fact that he had caught her and knew of her vulnerability.

He felt that sweet, blissful victory once he sunk his cock balls deep back into her tight, unwilling cunt after he had isolated her from everyone else in the hospital. He felt like he was on top of the world as he ravaged her body and pussy with brutal thrusts, wandering hands, and dominating tongue.

The Marquis wanted to drive the message home that he could appear anywhere, anytime, and at any place, and that he could get her at any time. It was pointless to run away from him because he had seen and learned everything he could about her. Her morning job at the cafe, that pathetic boy who loved to touch her at the cafe, that cousin of hers who was always babysitting Sydney when she attended her bunny-girl duty at the casino, and many more.

He knew too much about her that it was practically impossible for her to flee from him.

He heaved out a sigh of satisfaction while he was sitting up on the hospital bed. Behind him was Yn, still lying on her back with her legs spread out wide as his cum poured out of her overfilled and abused vagina. She was panting quietly behind him as she stared mindlessly at the ceiling.

He turned his body around to admire the sight of her - all ruined and claimed by him. He could not help but feel his lips twitch into a triumphant smirk as one of his hands reached out to grab a handful of her breast in a possessive grip. Her skin was clad with a thin layer of sweat after two sessions of rough fucking.

"What you did was a mistake," started the Marquis in his usual French accent. He squeezed her breast as if it was a stress ball and added, "You tried to run away. You quit. But I still find you, regardless. No matter where you hide or run, I will find you."

He felt her shudder and flinch as she stared up at him, dazed and exhausted after being pounded into for more than an hour. The Marquis suddenly pinched her nipple hard, making her yelp in surprise and pain. He continued, "What you did will not be easily forgiven."

Yn looked up at the Marquis in disbelief and fear. Tears welled up in her eyes as she thought about how she had been taken advantage of, threatened, and abused by this powerful man. She timidly asked, her voice trembling, "What... what else do you want from me? I-I gave you everything you asked for. You took me and my dignity. Isn't that enough?"

The Marquis looked down at her with a menacing glint in his eye. He leaned forward so that his face was mere inches away from hers and said calmly yet forcefully, "No. It is not enough. I am not done with you yet. And now you will pay the price."

Yn could feel her heart pounding as she realized that there would be no escape for her this time.

The Marquis continued, his voice still firm but laced with an undercurrent of danger, "Only I can say when I am done with you. You belong to me and no one else."

The hand that gripped her breast then slid down her fully naked body and ended up grasping her pussy possessively. He felt that it was still dribbling out his cum which he had poured deep into her womb. His gaze was cold and frightening as he added ominously, "If you ever try to leave or go behind my back again, there will be consequences."

Yn’s eyes were wide open, her lips slightly parted and her entire body was shaking, as if she's been frozen in terror. The Marquis looked down on her with a cold and sinister expression, enjoying the power he had to make her tremble with fear. His eyes glinted with a cruel satisfaction as he watched her reaction to his words.

Finally, he released her and got up from the bed. He glanced at their clothes on the floor, remembering how he was eagerly taking off her clothes with force before he fucked her on the bed relentlessly. He picked up her top and noticed it was all wrinkly.

"We should clean up and get back to your family," said the Marquis as he grabbed his phone from his pants and texted Chidi to ask the hospital staff for a cloth steamer.

The Marquis observed as Yn dragged her exhausted self from the bed and cautiously stared at him. He simply smiled and said, "Don't worry, I won't be joining you in the shower this time."

It was because he was waiting for Chidi. After watching Yn enter the bathroom and begin her shower, the Marquis found a towel and wrapped it around his torso, shielding his private area.

A few minutes later, knocks were heard from the door and the Marquis pulled it open to reveal Chidi carrying a portable steamer. After he quickly set it up in the room, Chidi left without saying a word. The Frenchman was just beginning to gather each piece of clothing off the floor when Yn emerged shyly from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her body as a wave of warm vapor trailed behind her..

"I got a steamer for our clothes," the Marquis pointed out as he placed their clothing on the bed. He then sent her a knowing smile, hinting at something she could not catch, before he headed for the bathroom and said, "Would be bad if your mother sees us with wrinkled clothes. She would know."

He then entered the bathroom and shut the door. Yn glanced at the standing steamer and then at their clothes on the bed. Not wanting to waste time, she picked up her shirt first and steamed it neatly. And then her skirt. Once done, she immediately donned them as she did not want to spend another second wrapped in a towel only.

Yn then looked at the clothing on the bed that belonged to the Marquis. She had a feeling that he was hinting for her to do this as well, though she couldn't be sure. After a few moments of hesitation, she decided to steam his pieces of clothing too.

She worked quickly and efficiently, using the steamer as if it was second nature to her. The process seemed almost meditative, allowing her thoughts to wander and drift freely in her mind. At some point, she took a closer look at the steamer, noting the brand, because it effectively eliminated even the most stubborn wrinkles from any fabric, including the Marquis' thick jacket. So she couldn't help but find joy in steam-pressing every article of his three-piece suit; she was amazed by the efficiency of the steamer.

She had just finished steaming his clothing when she heard that the Marquis had turned off the shower. She quickly folded up the steamer, folded his clothes, and placed them on the bed. That's when the Frenchman opened the door, revealing his freshly showered self with damp hair and rosy cheeks.

He gave Yn an appreciative smile as he noticed that she had steam-pressed every article of clothing, especially his which were all folded meticulously on the bed, ready for wear. With a towel wrapped around his torso, he advanced towards her and gazed at her, noting that she was all dressed up already.

"Thank you," he said softly, his French accent made these two words sound sensual, before he gently brushed his lips against hers in a tender peck.

Yn froze on the spot as the Marquis withdrew and headed to stand beside the bed before he put on his three-piece suit. Yn looked away and busied herself with something as she pondered. She felt distaste at the idea that he rewarded her with an affectionate gesture as if they were truly a couple or a married one. He did not have to peck her like that, she thought in indignation. Plus, she did it only because she knew that if she did not do as she was expected to, he would hold a grudge against her.

The Marquis stood tall with a proud, straight posture as he put on his three-piece suit. He gestured towards the door and strode out confidently, Yn a few steps behind him, slightly intimidated by his stature. The hallway felt longer than ever before, the only sound being their shoes clacking against the polished floors. His presence commanded the atmosphere as he walked with purposeful strides, determined to make it to his destination.

"You should return to the casino," he said in a low voice.

Yn's eyes widened with surprise as the Marquis made his demand. She stayed silent for a while, tucking away her surprise and clearing the nervous lump in her throat before she told him, "I'm sorry, sir... But no. I want to focus on my family."

Her tense posture conveyed her nervousness and reluctance to disobey his orders. The Marquis didn't answer directly but instead smiled as if he found something admirable and said, "Ah, that is so family-oriented of you."

Yn wanted to say more but decided it was better not to press further on the matter now and followed him silently. When they arrived at Yn's mother's room, they were greeted by her warm smile and bright eyes which made Yn feel relieved and comforted despite all that happened today. Sydney was quick to jump off of her mother's bed and rushed to embrace her sister's torso and she whined, "Where were you, sissy?"

"Sorry, Syd," Yn began, feeling the oppressive presence of the Marquis beside her, "I was hungry and I had to stop at the hospital cafeteria."

Sydney whined again, "I want to eat too."

Yn brushed her hair neatly and said, "Sure. I will make you your favorite pancake later at home."

"In the meantime, here," the Marquis spoke up, attracting everyone's attention as he bent down to give another Ferrero Rocher to Sydney.

Sydney squealed in delight and enthusiastically took it, thanking the Frenchman with an adorable tone. Yn's mother smiled warmly at the display and said, "Sydney seems tired so why don't you two head home, Yn?"

Yn nodded, thinking that it would be best to go and take the Marquis away from her mother because she believed that staying here more would also mean him staying as well, thus putting more harm on her mother. She responded, "Okay, mom."

"I will give you two a ride home," the Marquis suddenly added, his piercing eyes locking on Yn as if he was wordlessly telling her not to refuse.

Yn hesitated for a moment, feeling torn between accepting the offer and refusing it. On one hand, having the Marquis drop her and Sydney off at home might ensure her mother's safety, and it could prevent him from lingering around her family. On the other hand, she couldn't shake the discomfort and unease that always accompanied the Marquis' presence.

In the end, Yn reluctantly nodded, not wanting to antagonize him further. She said in a small voice, trying to keep her apprehension hidden, "Okay..."

The Marquis smirked, clearly pleased with her compliance, and led Yn and Sydney out of the hospital. He then brought them to the front of the hospital building and there it was, the same limousine that Yn had experienced boarding on previously. Chidi was already standing by and he opened the door for them.

Once the Marquis ushered them in, Sydney squealed in excitement again and babbled about him looking like a prince charming as she hopped into the luxurious vehicle in excitement. Yn followed suit, albeit with a wary demeanor. She couldn't help but feel slightly fearful for the situation they were in. Fearful for what might come next, knowing that he had them in his vehicle he could ask the driver to go to any place he desired.

Once inside the car, the atmosphere remained tense, with Yn feeling like a caged bird, desperate to escape his watchful gaze. Sydney, on the other hand, who was sitting in between them, was thoroughly enjoying the inside of the limousine. For the Marquis, he didn't say much during the ride, except for entertaining Sydney and her childlike questions, but his presence alone was suffocating, making Yn feel like she was walking on thin ice.

The Marquis glanced at Yn, a glint of amusement in his eyes, as he turned his attention to the little girl and asked with his voice laced with a deceptive sweetness, "Sydney, how about we make a quick stop at the ice cream shop? Would you like that?"

Sydney's eyes lit up with excitement, and she nodded vigorously and exclaimed, unable to contain her joy, "Yes, please! I want ice cream!"

Yn's heart sank at the Marquis' suggestion. She knew he was using Sydney's innocent desires to manipulate the situation, making it harder for her to object. She wanted to protest and insist on going straight home, but she couldn't bring herself to deny Sydney the simple pleasure of an ice cream treat.

"Alright, Sydney, we'll make a quick stop," Yn reluctantly agreed, her voice tinged with wariness. "But remember, we need to go home right after."

Sydney happily clapped her hands together and nodded, understanding her sister's condition. She effused, her innocence shining through, "Okay, sissy! I'll eat my ice cream fast!"

The Marquis sent Yn a sly smirk, knowing full well that Sydney was her weakness. As the car veered towards the nearest ice cream shop, Yn's mind raced with conflicting emotions. She couldn't shake off the unease and anxiety that came with being alone with the Marquis, especially after everything that had transpired. She felt a sense of urgency to escape his control and protect her family, but she knew she had to be cautious and bide her time.

When they arrived at the ice cream shop, the Marquis personally escorted Yn and Sydney inside, ensuring they were safely guided through the crowd. Yn couldn't help but feel a pang of bitterness as she observed how effortlessly the Marquis commanded attention and respect from those around him.

As Sydney excitedly chose her favorite flavor, the Marquis stood by her side at the counter and purchased it for her. As the little girl savored each lick upon getting it, she and Yn were led by the Marquis towards a nearby table where Sydney could enjoy her dessert. It did not escape Yn's notice that the Marquis purposely sat down next to her and placed his arm on the back of her seat as he spread his legs. She tensed up as she felt like the sight of them would make the public thought they were a couple.

While the little girl enjoyed the dessert, Yn's mind was elsewhere. She was preoccupied with thoughts of her family's safety and the need to devise a plan to break free from the Marquis' grasp. She knew she had to be resourceful, strategic, and patient.

Once Sydney finished her ice cream cone, Yn gently reminded her that it was time to head home. Sydney pouted for a moment but nodded in understanding, her childlike excitement fading.

As they re-entered the limousine, Yn felt great apprehension. She was hoping the Marquis would leave them alone once she and Sydney reached their home. She knew that every interaction with the Marquis brought her closer to danger, but she also knew that she needed to play her cards carefully, waiting for the right moment to escape.

In the silence of the car, Yn's mind raced with thoughts of escape and liberation. She was determined to protect her family and reclaim their freedom from the clutches and knowledge of the Marquis.

As the limousine reached their humble apartment, Yn's heart pounded in her chest. The realization that the Marquis knew the exact location of her home sent a shiver down her spine. She had never disclosed where she lived to him. That meant he had delved into her life with an invasive curiosity, and it unsettled her deeply.

Chidi, who had been driving the limousine, promptly opened the door for them as they arrived. The Marquis once again escorted them to the front of the building, his possessive behavior still on full display. Yn couldn't shake off the feeling of being trapped in his web of control.

As they stood in front of the apartment building, Yn attempted to bid the Marquis a quick farewell, hoping that he would finally leave them be. But he had other plans. In a calculated move, he leaned in towards Yn, attempting to kiss her on the lips. Panic surged through Yn as she froze in fear.

A whirlwind of thoughts flooded her mind in that moment. She contemplated evading his kiss, just as she had done before, but the memory of his wrath from that previous instance held her back. The Marquis had a way of asserting his dominance, and she knew defying him could lead to disastrous consequences.

Caught in a web of fear and submission, Yn allowed the Marquis to kiss her, even though her heart and mind rebelled against it. The moment felt suffocating as his lips pressed against hers, and she yearned for it to end. She remembered to cover Sydney's eyes to shield her from the display.

As he finally pulled away, a wicked smirk played on the Marquis' lips, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. It was evident that he relished the control he held over her, and Yn felt a surge of humiliation and anger.

"Until next time, Yn," he said, his voice laced with a subtle threat.

Yn nodded weakly, her voice barely above a whisper, "Yeah..."

With that, the Marquis turned and walked away, leaving Yn and Sydney standing in front of their apartment building. Once he was out of sight, Yn took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart. She knew that she had to find a way to escape his grasp, to reclaim her freedom, and protect her family from his menacing influence.

Entering their modest apartment, Yn felt a mix of relief and trepidation as they were greeted by their cat, Rosie. She knew that the Marquis' obsession with her had escalated to dangerous levels, and she had to tread carefully. Every step she took now was crucial and risky, and she was determined to devise a plan to break free from his hold, no matter the cost.

But how?

The man she was trying to run away from was the Marquis . A powerful aristocrat from France with some shady involvement with the underworld. She knew he had somehow used that power to learn everything about her, and that's what scared her the most. It appeared that his obsession with her had only grown stronger.

"Yn, can we watch Barbie as the Princess and the Pauper again?" quizzed Sydney with an adorable voice, pulling Yn's attention from the whirlwind of messy thoughts in her head.

Yn smiled warmly, "Sure."

That evening, as Yn showered and cleaned any lingering trace or phantom touch of the Marquis, she drifted back to what had transpired. He had come inside her twice again, and this time, she did not feel dreadful at the possibility of her getting pregnant because she had been consuming birth control pills diligently on a daily basis. It would be almost impossible.

But she began to wonder. Is he not scared of getting her pregnant?

It's as if he ejaculated inside her on purpose just like that first night she unwillingly had with him. It seemed like he did not care about the risk. Like he wanted to get her pregnant.

Was it because he wanted her all for himself, and the child would cement their bond?

Or, was it because he enjoyed the idea of her being pregnant with his child?

Was this all part of his sick fetish?

The more she thought about it, the more irritated and worried she became. Part of her was filled with all sorts of fury and animosity. Part of her was outraged. Part of her was sick and tired of being his plaything. Part of her felt powerless and trapped.

Yn wanted to scream and cry from the frustration and helplessness of it all. But she had to be strong. Be strong for her family. Yn knew that she was deep in his clutches now and that she had to be more careful than ever. She needed to be more cautious, more vigilant, and more prepared.

She came out of the bathroom, dried herself up, and dressed up when her phone suddenly pinged. She stared at it, suddenly sensing consternation as she wondered what could cause it to alert her of a notification. She feared it was the Marquis who had somehow gotten her phone number.

She picked up the gadget and checked the notification list. She heaved a sigh of relief when she learned it was from Emily. But she couldn't help but wonder why she was texting her at this time. Emily was supposed to be at the casino working.

Yn clicked the notification and she was shown the full message:

[Emily: Hey, Yn. Just wanna inform you that the Marquis doesn't show up again tonight at the casino.]

Yn stared at the message. It was short, but it was enough to cause concern and dread. With wide eyes, she stared at the message which seemed to engulf her in ominous sensation, like something dark and worrying would happen since the Marquis was not at the casino.

That made her think: What is he plotting now?

That's when she heard it. A couple of knocks from the front door of their apartment. Yn paled instantly and she dropped her phone and quickly went out of her bedroom to check. Sydney was already in the living room, looking at the door with innocent curiosity, as she stopped midway in her imagination with her dolls. Rosie was on the couch, calmly licking her fur clean.

Yn walked to the door and stared at it for a moment. Her dread intensified, and she was filled with uncertainty, anxiety, and fear. She took another look at Sydney, who looked at her with wide and innocent eyes.

The older sister then stared at the door and took a huge breath to steady her nerves. Her apartment building did not provide a see-through hole for her to see who it was on the other side. So she had to open it and check who their visitor was.

Yn went to link the door chain for safety purposes and finally opened the door, the chain limiting it from opening fully. Yn's eyes widened in absolute fear and shock at the sight of the Marquis and Chidi standing on the other side of the door.

The Marquis was dressed in a sharp black three-piece suit with silver buttons, crisp white shirt, and navy blue tie while Chidi wore the same attire as ever, as if it was a uniform to serve the Marquis. The latter lifted his head and looked at Yn with his cold and frightening eyes.

"Good evening, Yn," the Marquis started with a sly smile, "I brought special dinner for you and Sydney. Let us in."

His words were laced with a threatening tone and Yn suddenly felt her skin crawl. Her hands were shaking and she struggled to form a sentence. No, she could not let him in at this time. Letting him enter the apartment would allow him to tighten his leash on her more.

"Umm, you don't have to, sir," she finally uttered, "I have planned what the dinner tonight will be. We'll be fine."

"But I have a special menu for you and Sydney. I suggest not to let it go to waste," he replied.

"T-that's really kind of you, sir," Yn countered with a trembling voice, "But please, we do not need it."

The Marquis' voice suddenly turned downright dark and menacing as he lowered his voice, "I was not asking, ma lapine. You will open the door or... Chidi will break it open."

He paused to lean closer to her and whispered, "You wouldn't want to scare the sweet, little Sydney, would you?"

She could not stop the shiver from crawling down her spine. Her hands were still shaking and she felt her knees faltering. Yn's mind raced, desperately searching for a way out of this nightmarish situation. She knew she couldn't let the Marquis and Chidi into the apartment, but the threat to Sydney's safety was too great to ignore. She was trapped between a rock and a hard place, and her heart pounded loudly in her chest.

"Please... please don't hurt her or put her in any danger," she pleaded, her eyes turning glassy as tears clouded her vision.

The Marquis frowned as if he was concerned for putting her in distress, but the way he looked at her seemed mocking. He answered, "Then don’t resist. The more you resist, the riskier you two would find yourselves in."

Yn felt a knot tighten in her stomach at the Marquis' words. She knew he was right, but the idea of surrendering to his demands filled her with anger and resentment. She hated feeling like a pawn in his sick game, but... what else could she do at this moment?

When you are panicking and full of fear, you became clueless about what to do. Every TikTalk video you see about safety suddenly disappears from your mind. It's either fight or hide or flight. But what can you do when this man has brought his bodyguard, has trapped you in your apartment, and has threatened you about your younger sister?

With a heavy heart and a sense of defeat, Yn finally gave in to the Marquis' demand. She unclasped the door chain and swung the door open, allowing him and Chidi, who was holding a plastic bag of meals, to enter. The weight of her decision settled upon her like an oppressive darkness, but she knew she had to prioritize Sydney's safety above all else.

Sydney's innocent eyes widened in delight at the sight of the Marquis and Chidi standing in their doorway, while Rosie merely scanned the newcomers with a pair of inquisitive eyes.

"It's the prince!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with excitement and admiration.

The Marquis, ever the manipulator, smiled indulgently. He approached her in their living room and crouched down to Sydney's level. His voice was dripping with charm as he said, "Ah, my little princess. I'm glad to see you too. Did you enjoy the ice cream?"

Sydney nodded vigorously, a bright smile adorning her face. "Yes, it was yummy! Thank you, prince!"

The Marquis then turned to Rosie who was eyeing him suspiciously. Yn was hoping the feline would bite him and drive him and Chidi out of the building, but to her surprise, the Frenchman slowly put a hand towards her. He let the cat sniff his hand first as if to show her that he meant no aggression. After a few more boops with her nose, the Marquis finally patted her on the head and then scratched the area below her neck, soothing the cat almost immediately.

Yn watched the interaction with a mix of bitterness and unease. She couldn't help but feel a pang of resentment towards the Marquis for effortlessly charming her sister and her cat, knowing that it was all a pretense.

As they stepped into the apartment, the Marquis' presence seemed to fill every corner, suffocating Yn with a sense of powerlessness. She felt trapped, her every move observed and controlled. She despised the way he commanded the room as if it belonged to him.

The Marquis then turned to Chidi and that was all the bodyguard needed as a sign before he put down the plastic bag on the dining table and put it on display one by one. Yn was observing how the Marquis listened to Sydney's chatter about her imagination with her dolls when Chidi suddenly spoke up, "You have bowls and plates?"

Yn nodded, sending one last glance at Sydney and the Frenchman before she entered the kitchen and grabbed several plates. She went out of the kitchen, immediately checking how her younger sister fared before she placed the platters on the table.

Chidi's precise arrangement of the French dishes on the table caught Yn off guard. Her heart sank as she realized that the Marquis had once again delved into her life, this time going as far as selecting meals that reflected his own culture. It was a display of control, a subtle reminder that he held the reins of their lives in his hands.

The table was adorned with an exquisite spread of French delicacies – coq au vin, bouillabaisse, escargot, and ratatouille, all meticulously prepared and presented. Yn's resentment grew as she felt her autonomy slipping away, replaced by the Marquis' dominating influence.

The Marquis and Chidi took their seats, and Yn reluctantly called for Sydney and sat down as well, trying her best to maintain a composed facade despite the turmoil of emotions raging within her.

Sydney's eyes lit up with excitement as she saw the spread before her and she effused, "Wow, look so yummy!"

The Marquis smiled, watching Sydney's enthusiasm with amusement. He told her in a gentle tone, "Dig in."

As Sydney eagerly began to eat, the Marquis and Chidi followed suit. Yn picked at her food, her appetite stifled by the oppressive atmosphere. She couldn't help but feel like a puppet, being forced to play along with the Marquis' charade.

She could see that Sydney was enjoying the meal, her innocent delight contrasting sharply with Yn's growing unease. The Marquis, for his part, savored each dish with apparent pleasure, savoring not only the flavors but also the sense of control he exerted over Yn and her family.

As the dinner progressed, the Marquis casually engaged in conversation, speaking effortlessly about his life, his wealth, and the grandeur of his world. He artfully wove a tale of opulence and allure, luring Sydney further into his web of fascination.

Yn's frustration boiled beneath the surface as she listened to his smooth words, recognizing them as nothing more than manipulation. She knew the Marquis was using this opportunity to manipulate her sister's innocent admiration, a tactic to further tighten his grip on Yn's life.

But she also knew that resistance would only lead to more danger for Sydney and her mother. So, Yn played her part by being silent while keeping a watchful eye on her sister.

As the dinner came to an end, Yn felt a sense of relief wash over her. She was hoping the Marquis and Chidi would leave after saying goodbyes and that she and Sydney would be left alone in their humble abode. However, she was rendered dumbstruck when only Chidi left the apartment as the Marquis closed the door after saying something to his loyal bodyguard in French.

Sydney noticed this and voiced out her confusion innocently, "Hmm? You're not leaving?"

The Marquis patted her head with his huge hand and said, "No, little princess. I will be staying here tonight."

Yn's heart pounded loudly in her chest as panic gripped her. Her body trembled with fear and trepidation, and her mind raced with desperate thoughts of escape. She felt like a trapped animal, cornered by a predator she couldn't elude. The walls of the small apartment seemed to close in around her, suffocating her with the weight of the Marquis' presence.

His smirk, like a serpent's grin, only deepened her distress. He relished in her vulnerability, knowing that he held all the power in this twisted game he played. He could see the fear in her eyes, and it only seemed to amuse him further, fueling his twisted desire for control.

The Marquis, seemingly unaffected by her unease, looked around the apartment with an air of ownership, as if he already considered it a part of his domain. His arrogance was palpable, and it made Yn's skin crawl.

Ignoring her silent pleas for him to leave, the Marquis continued to play the role of a gracious host. He asked with feigned politeness, "Where is your bedroom, Yn?"

Her voice caught in her throat, and she struggled to find the words. Fear had paralyzed her, leaving her unable to resist his will any longer. With a shaky hand, she pointed to the end of the narrow hallway, her heart sinking as she realized that her sanctuary was now exposed to the very person she wanted to keep away from her life.

He gave her a knowing look, a predatory glint in his eyes as he observed her vulnerability. He made no attempt to hide his intentions, and Yn's fear intensified. She knew she couldn't escape his grasp, not now, not here.

As they walked down the dimly lit hallway, Yn felt a sense of helplessness engulf her. Every step she took felt like a descent into a nightmarish abyss, with the Marquis leading the way.

He paused at her bedroom door, his hand lingering on the doorknob as he turned to face her. His gaze bore into her, stripping away any pretense of control she might have had. She felt exposed, as if he could see right through her, laying bare all her fears and vulnerabilities.

"Such a modest room for someone with such potential," he remarked, his voice dripping with both condescension and intrigue.

Yn wanted to protest, to assert her independence, and deny his assumptions, but her voice failed her. She was trapped in his spell, unable to break free.

With a final smirk, the Marquis pushed open the door and stepped inside, invading her personal space once again. Yn's heart raced, her mind filled with a tumult of emotions – fear, anger, and a deep-seated desire to break free from his clutches.

Inside her own bedroom, Yn felt a suffocating mix of emotions. The walls seemed to close in around her, and she struggled to keep her composure as the Marquis invaded her personal space once more. His presence felt overpowering, and she knew that she was completely at his mercy.

Her mind raced with thoughts of escape, of finding a way to outmaneuver him and break free from his obsessive hold. But every idea she came up with seemed futile against his cunning and power. She couldn't see a way out, and it only fueled her fear and frustration.

The Marquis circled around her room, his eyes taking in every detail as if he was searching for hidden secrets. It made her feel exposed and vulnerable as if he was dissecting her life and unraveling her every thought.

"Don't look so afraid, ma lapine," he remarked, his tone low and taunting. "You may have quit your job at the casino, but you haven't escaped my attention."

Yn's heart sank at his words. She had hoped that leaving the casino would grant her some semblance of freedom, but now she realized that the Marquis's obsession with her ran much deeper than she had feared.

He turned his gaze back to her, his predatory eyes locking onto hers. "If you have accepted my advances, you would no longer live here. You and your sister would enjoy the luxury of my mansion. Your bed would be much bigger than this bedroom."

Her anger at his arrogance and his objectification of her boiled beneath the surface. She wanted to scream, to demand that he leave her alone, but she knew that such defiance would only lead to more trouble.

"I don't want anything to do with you or your world," she finally managed to say, her voice trembling with both fear and resolve.

The Marquis laughed, the sound sending chills down her spine. "Oh, we will see, ma lapine. I always get what I want."

Her heart pounded loudly in her chest as she realized the extent of his obsession. He saw her as a possession, a conquest to be won, and he wouldn't rest until he had her completely under his control.

She stepped backward away from him and uttered with a stammer, "Um... I have to check on Sydney."

The Marquis arched an eyebrow, his eyes glinting with a twisted desire for control. "Of course, ma lapine. Don't let me keep you from your duties."

Yn nodded, eager to escape his presence. She turned on her heel and hurried down the hallway, her heart pounding in her chest as she tried to calm her mind. As she reached the living room, she saw Sydney back to playing with her dolls.

Yn sat down on the couch, letting out a sigh of relief, grateful for the respite from the Marquis' insidious presence. It was at that moment Sydney paused and turned to her, saying, "Sissy, let's go and watch the Barbie show!"

Yn nodded and set up the movie before starting it. With comfy blankets and pillows on the floor, the two sisters made themselves comfortable as they watched the show. Yn tried hard to focus on the movie, attempting to disregard the fact that they had a dangerous visitor in Yn's bedroom, doing who knew what.

As the movie played, Yn couldn't shake off the unease and fear that lingered in her mind. She stole glances towards the hallway, knowing that the Marquis was still in her bedroom, and it made her stomach churn with dread.

Sydney, oblivious to the danger, giggled and clapped her hands in delight at the cheerful scenes on the screen. Yn forced a smile, trying to maintain a sense of normalcy for her sister's sake.

The movie had been going for a while when Yn noticed a shadowy figure creep out of the hallway. It was the Marquis, wearing his usual white cotton shirt but with several buttons undone near the neckline. His pants were the same black one.

He smiled at the sight of the two sisters enjoying their movie night and spoke up, "What a cute sight. Mind if I join you?"

Yn's stomach churned with revulsion and fear as she watched him approach. She wanted to scream for him to leave, but she knew that it would only make things worse.

Sydney, however, seemed oblivious to the danger. "Sure, prince! We're watching Barbie! Do you like Barbie too?"

The Marquis chuckled, his eyes never leaving Yn's, as he approached their makeshift cozy nest, "I'm afraid I'm not much of a Barbie fan, little one. But perhaps I can find something else to do while you two watch."

Yn's heart raced with fear as the Marquis settled down on the couch behind them, his eyes never leaving Yn's form, and she fought the urge to squirm under his gaze. She focused on the movie, trying to escape into the fictional world on the screen and away from the reality of her situation.

But it was impossible to ignore the Marquis's presence. He seemed to radiate a sense of power and danger, and Yn couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of vulnerability in his presence, suffocating Yn's every breath.

Suddenly, Sydney glanced at the Marquis on the couch and said, "Why sit there? Lie with us. Here."

Yn stared wide-eyed at her younger sister, feeling livid at what she suggested, and before she could do some damage control, the Marquis replied with a triumphant tone, "That's sweet of you, Sydney. Of course. Let me settle down beside Yn."

Yn's heart sank as the Marquis shifted closer to her, his body heat radiating against her side. She fought the urge to recoil from his presence and body heat, trying to keep her breathing steady and her expression neutral.

He lifted up the blanket Yn was putting over herself and slid himself under it and made himself comfortable. She could feel the heat radiating off his body, and the smell of his cologne filled her nostrils, making her stomach churn with disgust.

His body invaded her personal space under the blanket. She felt trapped, like a prey ensnared by a predator, unable to escape his clutches. She desperately wished she could shield Sydney from his presence, but she knew that resisting him now would only make things worse.

Sydney, oblivious to the tension in the air, simply smiled and focused back on the Barbie movie. Yn forced herself to remain composed, her eyes fixed on the movie, trying to drown out the overwhelming sense of fear and discomfort.

Even as the Marquis' hand began to settle on her waist, Yn stayed quiet and kept her gaze locked on the TV screen. As the movie played on, she subtly moved away from him, trying to create some distance between them. But he seemed to notice her unease and responded by casually draping an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to him. His touch sent a shiver down her spine, and she clenched her jaw to hide her discomfort.

The Marquis chuckled, seemingly amused with her reaction as if the lack of consent on her part was all funny to him. His grip on her shoulder tightened, and Yn felt like a bird with clipped wings, trapped and powerless.

A few minutes into the movie, the Marquis' hand drifted from her waist to her breast and ended up squeezing her freely under the blanket, hidden from any eye. Yn jolted in shock before she pushed his hand away. However, he was persistent and stubborn. That same hand of his went back to her chest and gripped it threateningly, even if she attempted to push it off.

Yn gritted her teeth, trying to hold back her tears, as he began to squeeze her breast and groped her freely under the blanket. She broke out in a cold sweat, her hands trembling as she tried to stay composed.

To her horror, as the movie went on, the Marquis started to grope her more aggressively, using force every time she tried to push him off. Every attempt she made at pushing him off was met with more force, and the shock and panic were beginning to overwhelm her.

He ended up doing the one thing she did not expect him to dare to do right next to a kid - rubbing her pussy through her panty. He had slid his hand inside her shorts and freely rubbed her clit under the blanket despite her attempt to cross her legs and thwart his fingers.

"Look, she's asleep," the Marquis whispered next to her ear out of the blue.

Feeling confused, Yn shot her gaze at Sydney and realized he was right, her little sister was sleeping soundlessly next to her.

Yn quickly got up from their cozy nest and shut down the TV before she carefully picked up Sydney and headed for the little girl's bedroom to tuck her in. She needed this moment to recollect herself after the ordeal she had just gone through.

Silently, Yn laid down Sydney on her bed and pinned back a few strands of her hair that had come loose while she was sleeping. She took a moment to admire how peaceful and beautiful her sister looked in slumber, oblivious to all the tension going on outside her room.

"She's pretty smart for her age."

Yn frowned and glanced at the Marquis who had spoken in a low voice, mindful to not wake the girl. He was smirking smugly at her. His face showed no remorse or regret for what he had done earlier - his predatory intentions clear in his eyes.

Yn eyed the Marquis warily, her heart pounding in her chest. She could feel his gaze on her as he watched her intently, waiting for her.

"Hurry up," the Marquis commanded softly, a dangerous glint in his eyes. Yn didn't need him to spell out what he meant; she already knew what his intentions were.

Steeling herself against any emotions she had towards the Marquis, Yn moved closer to Sydney's bedroom and lightly pecked her forehead in a goodbye of sorts before turning back around and heading towards her own room with the Marquis following close behind her.

Once inside Yn's bedroom, the Marquis locked the door behind him and proceeded to move closer toward Yn with menacing intent written all over his face. He reached out to cup her cheek when she backed away and whispered, "Stop. The walls are thin - Sydney can hear us if we go further."

"Then we have to be quiet then," countered the Marquis with a sly smile.

He leaned in closer to her when she suddenly pushed his chest away from her. She chided, "No! She will hear regardless! Stop or I-"

Suddenly, her lips were pressed hard by his as his tongue slid into her mouth and dominated her from the inside. Yn felt like she was being violated. Not able to think clearly with his tongue touching hers, she pressed her palms firmly against the Marquis' muscular chest, trying to push him away from her. However, the male was relentless and his tongue continued to plunder her mouth.

He gripped her wrists and pulled them away from his chest and held them in the air beside her head. All she could do was stand there frozen as he continued to kiss her, his tongue roaming around her mouth. She struggled against her reflexes, against her instincts to bite him back or push him off her.

She kept telling herself it was just a kiss - just a kiss - just a kiss - even though the Marquis practically shoved his tongue down her throat, groaning at her as if it was the best tasting thing he had ever sampled.

When he pulled away, Yn was gasping, her chest heaving rapidly from her shallow breaths. She stared at him with wide eyes and her hands trembling in his hold. He seemed completely unfazed about what he had just done, his face still adorned with that same sly smirk as before.

The Marquis didn't waste any time in making his intentions clear. He began to undress her, roughly tugging at her clothing with no sense of care or gentleness. Yn felt exposed, and vulnerable as he removed the last bit of clothing from her body until she was bare.

The Marquis didn't stop there. His hands were now on her body, exploring every inch of her skin as if it was his personal playground. He sucked on her nipples hard while his fingers explored down below, pushing inside her at a fast pace that made Yn gasp out loud in pleasure and pain all at the same time.

The Marquis pushed Yn onto her bed, his hands now exploring her body with an enthusiasm that could not be contained. His fingers were like wildfire on her skin as he moved them all around her body, making her shiver in delight and at the same time feel exposed and vulnerable.

His hands soon found their way back between her legs where he started to finger her gently this time but soon increased the rhythm until it was almost too much to bear. The Marquis seemed to know exactly what he was doing - for every push of his fingers there came a squelch of juices flowing out of her, each motion making Yn gasp and mewl out loud in pleasure and pain all at the same time.

Yn did not want to show any sign of pleasure and did not want to make a noise in fear of waking up Sydney, but she was struggling to contain herself as the Marquis continued to fingerfuck her lewdly. His eyes were dark with lust and locked on her face of carnal pleasure and pain.

Yn could feel herself getting closer to her peak and could hear the Marquis' breathing hitch as if he was also nearing his orgasm. She tried to push his hand away from her, but he just moved it back between her legs and started to finger her faster.

"Please... please stop," she whimpered as she felt the pleasure and tension mount within her. She felt like the world was spinning around her uncontrollably. The Marquis' leaned forward and kissed her hard and deep, his tongue entering her mouth and dominating her all over again.

He bit down on her lower lip hard enough to draw blood and Yn could feel it trickle down her chin. His hands were on her shoulders, pinning her down to the bed as he continued to tongue her mouth, his fingers still thrusting inside her at a rapid pace. He was breathing hard, panting in her face as his hand continued to pleasure her ruthlessly.

Yn could feel an intense pleasure building up within her as the Marquis continued to abuse her drenched cunt with his long, veiny fingers. She could feel it coming; the orgasm was coming.

However, Yn gasped out loud when the Marquis suddenly pulled out of her, his fingers now wet with her juices. He lifted a finger to his mouth and lewdly sucked the juices off of it, a hint of a smirk on his lips.

Yn was panting harshly on the bed when the Marquis suddenly moved one hand to the back of her head, grabbing a handful of her hair and pulling her closer to him for a bruising kiss. She could taste her own blood from his bite on her lips.

After tasting her tongue with his, he pulled away and began to remove his clothes with evident impatience. Yn realized what was going to happen and with a sudden burst of adrenaline, she attempted to roll off the bed and flee. Her effort, however, was in vain as the Marquis was quick to grab her by the waist and hold her down in a missionary position.

His face contorted into a primal snarl as he pinned Yn's wrists above her head and pushed his hips against hers. She could feel his hard arousal pressing against her as he began to thrust slowly yet forcefully against her. His hips moved in a circular motion that made her moan out loud despite herself.

The Marquis roughly slid his cock balls deep inside her cunt, eliciting a yelp from Yn. She could feel the sensation of being completely filled up by his large manhood and felt her insides quiver in pleasure. The Marquis' eyes were full of unbridled lust and he let out a soft groan as he felt himself fully slide into Yn's eagerness.

He began to thrust into her fast, completely feral upon feeling her walls enveloping his bare cock with her juices. His strokes were deep and powerful, pushing Yn toward the edge of climax each time as he pounded away at her relentlessly. His hips moved in a circular motion that sent shockwaves slamming against her inner walls making her moan out loud and beg for more.

Yn could feel the intensity rising with each thrust until it finally reached its peak when the Marquis grabbed hold of both of Yn's wrists with one hand while continuing to drive hard into her vulnerable body with the other. He was rocking back and forth faster than ever now, pushing Yn towards an explosive orgasm that threatened to burst out of her at any moment.

The Marquis pounded ceaselessly into her, his hips bobbing in a deep and powerful rhythm. His vigorous thrusts were relentless; Yn could feel the intensity of each impact resonating throughout her body as they rocked in an almost relentless circular motion. Her legs hung limply around his waist, her back arching off the bed as he moved inside her with feverish energy.

The air was filled with moans, groans, and the loud clapping of skin as the Marquis fucked her in unrestrained passion. Yn bit her lip trying to contain the orgasm that threatened to spill out of her at any moment, while the Marquis continued to thrust into her for what felt like an eternity.

At some point, Yn had to speak up with a shaky whisper in each ram of his hips against hers, "S-slow... down...! Sydney will... hear... us... Aah!"

The Marquis merely smirked in response and Yn could tell he had heard her, yet he continued to thrust into her with reckless abandon, disregarding her pleas. He seemed intent on pushing her to the limit and beyond, not holding back in any way. Yn felt her body tremble beneath his as she neared the edge of climax-- the Marquis intensified his thrusts even further, slamming into her with powerful strokes that sent shockwaves radiating throughout her entire being.

Yn felt as if he was using her like a fucktoy, or a possession, some kind of breeding toy for his own pleasure. His relentless pounding filled her with a wild mix of pleasure and pain that was driving Yn crazy as she tried desperately to contain the mounting orgasm inside of her. Her mental faculties were quickly fading away as she succumbed to the Marquis' sexual onslaught on her body.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity spent in blissful agony, Yn's orgasm crashed upon her like an ocean wave and she shrieked as it took hold of all of her senses. The Marquis kept up his pace even as Yn clenched around him from within-- his movements becoming more fervent and erratic until finally he let out a deep groan and came deep inside Yn's tight walls.

Yn's whole body trembled uncontrollably as the Marquis continued to fill her womb until they eventually both collapsed onto the bed in exhaustion. He lay beside Yn, his arm draped around her shoulders as he pulled her close to his chest. She could feel his breath against her neck, and although she still despised him for practically forcing himself on her yet again, the warmth of his body was a comfort in the aftermath of their rough fucking.

After a few moments of silence, the Marquis suddenly spoke up, "I don't accept your resignation letter. Tomorrow evening, you go back to work at the casino as the bunny-girl."

Yn was taken aback by his sudden pronouncement. Even though her insides were still quivering from the Marquis' intense fuck, she managed to sit up and stare at him in disbelief and fury. She ignored the tingling sensation of his cum pouring out of her vagina and chided, "No, I don't want to go back in there."

"Is it because you have already paid for your mother's medical treatment?" the Marquis guessed as he made himself comfortable by adjusting the pillow underneath his head, "Or is it because of me?"

"It's none of your business," replied Yn, glowering at the Frenchman in distaste, "I am quitting no matter what. That is my choice and you don't get to deny it freely."

Yn stared into the Marquis' dark, menacing gaze and felt a shudder of fear ripple through her body. He seemed to be studying her intently, trying to read her mind, and Yn's heart pounded against her ribcage as they stared into each other's eyes. For the Marquis, this was the first time Yn had shown some backbone as she challenged him through the stare.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he spoke up with a deep and powerful voice thick with a French accent, "Fine. I understand your choice."

Yn was rendered speechless. She felt instant relief surging through her, but it was short-lived as the Marquis continued speaking in a low tone, "But you wouldn’t want anything to happen to your sweet mother, do you?”

Yn's heart sank at the Marquis' ominous words, and fear surged through her veins like a chilling current. She knew the depth of his power and influence, and the thought of her mother's safety being at risk sent a wave of terror coursing through her.

"W-what do you mean?" she stammered, her voice trembling with fear.

The Marquis leaned in closer, his gaze never leaving hers, and spoke in a low, calculated tone, "You should not underestimate me, ma lapine. I have resources, connections, and the means to make things very difficult for you and your family if you don't comply with my wishes."

Yn's mind raced with fear and desperation. She knew she was no match for the Marquis's wealth and influence, and the thought of him using it against her and her family filled her with dread.

"Please, I beg you," she pleaded, her voice cracking with emotion, "Leave my family out of this. I'll do whatever you want, just don't hurt them."

The Marquis's lips curled into a cold, calculated smile as he leaned back against the pillow, seemingly satisfied with her fear. He then said, his voice dripping with arrogance and dominance, "That's more like it. You will return to the casino tomorrow evening and resume your role. And if you ever try to defy me again, consequences will find you."

Yn stared at him in disbelief, feeling defeated and trapped. She knew she had no choice but to comply with his demands if she wanted to protect her family.

Suddenly, the Marquis reached out an arm out and wrapped it around her shoulders before he pulled her in to lie in the bed with him. He tugged her blanket to cover the two of them as he adjusted her head to rest over his chest.

"Relax, ma lapine," the Frenchman said with a tone of satisfaction, "As long as you obey me, everything will be fine. For you and your family."

Yn frowned and stared into space with distrust as she lay down against him. She loathed that she had to rely on the Marquis for her mother's safety. She wished she could do something more than just give in to his demands.

But there was nothing else she could do. And at that moment, she realized that no matter how much she despised the Marquis for forcing her to submit to his will, she really had no choice as he held all the power in the Marquis' hands. Every time she tried to escape him or stand up and fight against him, he would simply use his power or aggression to locate her and make her submit to him. Right now, he had even resorted to using her family against her, and she resented him for that.

Deep inside, a fire of defiance burned, and she vowed to find a way to escape his clutches and regain her and her family's freedom. As she lied down on his chest and listened to him drifting off to sleep, plans and ideas of how to break free from the Marquis' grasp began to emerge in her mind.

She could contact the police and have a restraining order, and she was hesitant about this plan since the Marquis could possibly twist this using his power.

She could bring Sydney and move to another apartment so the Marquis wouldn't locate and disturb them again, but the Marquis would still have a hold on her through her mother.

Or she could move into Barbara's house or Emily's apartment to at least minimize his contact with her and Sydney. Sure, he would still use her mother against her, but at least he wouldn't rape her in her own humble abode. All she had to do was submit to him only at work.

Or she could submit to him, keep on taking birth control pills, wait until her mother's fully recovered, and then move to a place far, far away to start anew. To a place where the Marquis wouldn’t have any idea where she runs off to.

PREV : Chapter 05

NEXT : Chapter 07

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[yeeterthek33per]

It hurts (but I've got you)(Katrina Gorry x reader)

A/n I'm gonna warn everyone right now. This one is gonna get dark. It's a fresh loss, and I'm feeling ridiculously angsty. Warnings include mental illness, unaliving mentions, past abuse, self degradation, and panic attack warnings. and some seriously dark thoughts. A lot of mentions of trauma coping. Seriously, do not read if you guys can't cope with it or if it triggers you.

Also, this isn't the only Gorry fic I'm writing atm 😅

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It felt like you knew the moment your fiancee had been subbed off that this game was it.

3-1 down with just 3 minutes left of regulation time. Even with stoppage, nothing felt like enough. None of you were processing Tony's yells from the sideline, none of you could feel the rush you needed to.

And they just kept coming at you. The exhaustion was setting in and nobody could keep up with them anymore.

Sam couldn't get the touches she needed to.

Mackenzie wasn't communicating well with the girls at the back, and they weren't aggressing like they needed to

You felt helpless in the chaos, despite being in the midfield. Your passes weren't connecting, and every touch you had felt like it was a turnover to England.

It felt like Chidi wasn't being given enough time to work her magic. The English defence was reduced to several layers of blue. None of the strikers up front had the energy to challenge that.

Steph was completely out of it, Caitlin was trying, but she didn't have the strength.

In the end, none of your attempts were enough, and it was weighing on you like a pile of bricks. You felt sick. To the point where your sobs nearly turned to dry heaving.

You'd collapsed to the turf the moment the whistle blew. Hiding your head in your knees, you avoided any possible camera angles of your face, not wanting to be seen losing it like you were.

You could barely budge when you felt a hand on your back.

Everything was just overwhelming... not processing, but still somehow all setting in at once.

You felt several pats on the back over the course of a couple of minutes. You assumed the England players. Proven when you heard your old teammate Alessia, rubbing your back and mumbling to you how proud she was of you, especially watching you play throughout the cup.

You could barely acknowledge the blonde though.

Everything was screaming in your ears, all the pressure, the deafening silence of the crowd aside from the few England fans that did show up, the players off the side of the pitch yelling and celebrating.

The first person to force you out of your shell, though, was Katrina. She's knelt in front of you and tugs at your arms, pulling them from around your head and urges you into her embrace. You meet her eyes enough to see the tears, and that just sends you further. You feel like you failed her.

It didn't feel like enough. Nothing you did during that game was enough. Her voice is shaky but it's soothing enough to get you to slow your tears, but it's just piling up behind walls in your head at this point. It's being boxed up and padlocked.

Your first reflex is to apologise. And you do.

"I'm so sorry, it wasn't enough, I wasn't trying hard enough, I failed you."

Katrina feels her own heart crack a little further, hearing those words come from you. You'd played your heart out this entire world cup.

You were exhausted. You all were. But you couldn't see that you were doing all you could. It hurt more than anything to know you were blaming yourself for this. Though she fully expected it. You were still learning to process losses like this. She was hoping you'd made enough progress in case a loss like this happened.

It was something you'd both been working on. It's one of your childhood traumas. Losses were ingrained into you like life failures. You'd been taught from a young age that failure was never an option. That it resulted in beatings.

That it meant you should die.

That was something that you'd ingrained into yourself as a coping mechanism while you were still with your foster family.

Katrina knew of the abuse, but she didn't know much about the state of your mental health. It was something you'd only recently opened up with. Little by little, but not a lot.

It bounced around your head like a mantra.

You failed, it's over.

You failed.

You failed.

You're gently brought back out of your head, Katrina's hands on either side of your face, her thumb caressing your cheek, her forehead leant against yours.

"Look at me, baby, breathe, just listen to me, okay? You're in your head too much. Just listen to me and try to breathe with me. C'mon baby, you can do it. Come back to me."

You try to match her breathing. You hadn't even realised the panic attack had hit you.

Your chest was heaving, and you managed to slow it down a little.

"That's it, my sweet girl. You've got it."

You try to take in her words.

Just breathe.

You're a failure.

You're okay.

You've got this.

You fucking useless-.

Just breathe Y/n.

Breathe.

It's okay.

You're safe.

"That's it, you're safe here, Baby. You did so well."

Her lips press a kiss to your forehead.

"That's it, baby girl. You did it. I'm so proud of you."

Her hands shift to your neck to rub at it gently. Her nails scratch at the skin lightly, and you let it distract you. Your breathing is finally relaxed enough to let her pull you to your feet.

You almost can't bring yourself to look around. But you pick up your head and take a deep breath as Katrina keeps you looking at her.

"That's it, Y/n, that's it."

You close your eyes and take a final deep breath, and then meet her eyes again. You feel guilty for dropping this on her right now. Now is not the time for her to need to comfort you.

So you stone wall it back and fake a little relaxation in her arms.

"I'm good, I'm good, I'm okay. I-...I'm"

Sorry. I'm sorry.

You didn't say it out loud, but her face immediately shifts, and it seems you don't have to. It's almost like she can read your mind.

"Hey, no, uh uh. None of that, you don't need to apologise to me. You're my girl, and you're allowed to be vulnerable around me. I'm always gonna be here for you. Don't ever apologise for not being able to handle things on your own."

You let out a shaky breath, tilting your head back, blinking back any tears.

You've got this.

You nod, whiping away tears.

She rubs your shoulder softly. And you finally manage to look around at your teammates. A few of them are still just... sitting... contemplating the game.

Sam in particular. She looks like she's holding it in just about as much as you are, although more than likely a little better. The disappointment is still fresh in her eyes, though, and you can't quite face your best friend just yet. So you move to hug the others.

Katrina follows behind you a little. Not directly, but enough to keep a close eye on you as you console the girls. Charli and Kyra stick by her as well. The two of them had been the first to go to her after the whistle blew.

Though they do come find you after a few minutes. You were marrying their practically adoptive mother, after all. That and you were family to them as well.

Charli is the first to reach you. You let her hold you for a few minutes, and you rub at her back as well.

"Thanks, Cha Cha, I'm sorry you didn't get the chance to play today like we'd hoped."

She shakes her head.

"Doesn't matter. You all played the best you could today. I'm so proud of each and every one of you."

Your eyes well up a little bit, but you suck it back in.

"I know."

She ruffles your hair a little bit, managing a small goofy smile, and it gives you enough to let out a watery laugh.

"Atta girl."

It gets a little easier to breathe after that. And you find it easier to approach Kyra too.

"Hey, kiddo."

"I'm sorry it had to end like this."

"Not your fault, Ky. You played the best you could today."

You're quick to envelope her, too, pulling her into your chest, resting your head on hers. She's a little shaky but she's coping.

You both start to walk the pitch after that. Beginning to applaud the crowd for their support throughout the tournament.

It still stings. You know it will for a while. But each step is an easier breath. For now at least.

But at that, with each step comes a new echo in your head that you have to push down. It helps having your family there with you. Your real family.

You don't even register the huddle or the locker room talk.

When you get on the bus, Katrina is quick to shove her way into the seat beside you. Not that she has to, really. There's this unspoken rule about the team. Katrina is always next to you after a loss. They know it's for good reason, but they never pry or ask why.

By the time you're back to the team hotel. Its late and everybody returns to their own rooms.

You try convincing Katrina that you'll be fine, that you're just tired, but she's adamant about staying in your room. She reads you like an open book. Truthfully, you definitely aren't fine, and being on your own is not something she's wants for you right now. Harper is with Linda, Katrina's mother, thankfully, so she doesn't have to see this.

You go to join her in saying goodnight to her daughter, but she tells you to stay put for now. You can see her tomorrow.

You almost whine saying you missed the two year old, but you know not to push it, and you know you aren't in the right headspace to be around her right now.

You get ready for bed, and it only takes ten minutes for your girl to return again.

"She's doing fine, a little confused why Cha Cha didn't wanna play Aeroplane tonight, but she went down without much fuss."

You smiled a little at that, Harps was such an easygoing kid. It was hard not to fall in love with such a sweet little thing. Being in love with her mother certainly didn't help prevent that either.

"I'm glad she's doing okay then."

Katrina swaps out her (your) hoodie for one of your sleep shirts and strips down to just underwear.

"I think we'd both be a little better if her mama was too, though." It's not even subtle. You know she's not trying to be. She never is. She's gentle about it, though.

"What do you mean? I'm perfectly fine." It's said in a joking tone, but the unimpressed brow you get makes you feel a little guilty for that one.

"You want to talk about what happened?"

"Want to or want to?"

"You have to want to talk about it before we get anywhere. I won't force it out of you, I know it's still so fresh, but you need to want to before we can talk, sweetheart."

You sigh a little, resting against the wall behind the bed. You think about it for a minute. Before ultimately deciding to just hold on to it for a bit longer.

"Not just yet."

She nods in understanding.

"I'm here when you're ready baby."

"Maybe in the morning, it's just a little more tender than I'd like."

You still feel bad, though. Katrina played the same game you did. Lost the same game you did. Yet you couldn't handle it the same way.

You slip under the covers, and she joins you, slipping under, on her side and behind, spooning you. Her arm tucks itself over your waist, pulling you back into her shorter self. In that moment, you let her warmth lull you to sleep, thoughts of regret and guilt still plaguing your mind.

-------

It's weird. You've never seen Sam mad like this before. She's always been a relatively calm captain. Even after losses this big. You'd never seen her raise her voice at another teammate. Sure, sometimes people do stupid shit, and she has to pull them aside to speak with them, or lightly scold them, and that usually works, but...

Here you were.

She'd asked you to come to the meeting room downstairs first thing this morning. She's been yelling at you for the past five minutes. With each sentence, you just shrink, smaller and smaller, and it's like you're back on the pitch again.

"How could you let this happen?! Why did it take eight of you to let them through?! After all that hard work? How hard is it to keep them out?!"

"I-"

"How hard is it?! You're a defensive midfielder. You should know you have to keep them out, and you failed me!"

"Sam I-."

"You fucking let me down, I am absolutely fucking disgusted with you y/l. Why did you think it was okay?!"

"Sam, I'm sorry I-"

"'Sorry' isn't a fucking excuse, you knew you couldn't let us lose and you fucking let me down. You let them all down, you fucking failed us."

You're sobbing at this point, barely able to get a word in. You're curled up in the corner of the room, and Sam is standing over you. You can barely register the feel of artificial turf beneath you as the blaring lights of the stadium nearly blind you.

She's still yelling, but it's like she's muffled now.

Off to the side even.

You look up around you. She's still yelling, but you can't hear her over the crunching of grass beneath a pair of leather loafers. It screams in your ears, almost painfully. You know those sounds all too well.

Your foster father walks towards you slowly, with purpose. His belt bent and tucked back into his hand again.

"What did I tell you would happen, Jessica?"

It makes you tremble, and your body is rooted to the spot. You feel like you can't move. He always tried to force the name on you. Your foster mother just let it happen.

You open your mouth to protest, but all that comes out are more sobs and half met pleas. He's standing right over you now. His arm raises the belt in the air. And right before he brings it down. You see the angry and disappointed faces of everyone. Sam still yelling.

Steph, Caitlin, Charli, Kyra, Ellie. Katrina stands on her own, shaking her head at you. She turns away right as the belt comes down.

-----

Your eyes blink open. You feel the stickiness of dried tears on your face, fresh ones replacing them quickly.

You have to take a quick few breaths to gather your surroundings again.

It's okay. You're in your room. He's not here to hurt you.

Katrina's arm is looser around your waist now. You're tucked into her front but on your back now, and she's dead asleep on the pillow beside yours.

It's okay.

You're safe.

How could you let this happen?

Fucking dumbass.

Worthless piece of-.

That's all it takes for you to carefully slip out from under the covers. Careful not to jostle your sleeping fiancee. You couldn't get the look of disappointment on her face out of your head.

She'd looked completely done with you. She couldn't even look at you. She was so disappointed.

Tears were still flowing from your eyes. Your breathing was starting to become more rapid as you slipped out of the room's door, a small click behind you as you shut it.

You couldn’t stay here.

That was all you could think about. There was no way security would let out at this hour without questions, so you have to find a back door.

You sneak into what looks like an old busted fire escape hall. There's an old alarm attached to it, but it's not even enabled, you having prepared to bolt if it had gone off if you were wrong about it. You'd heard one of the staff talking about it needing replacing soon and that they'd disable it until it could be fixed.

Your socked feet are quiet, but slip on the tile floors as you walk out the back door. Looks like the alarm isn't enabled from the inside. You duck out quickly and just run down the road. You keep running. It's dark out still. You didn't even check the time before running off.

But it doesn't matter.

The thoughts in your head are spinning. Everything's just crashing down on you. You're curled up in an alleyway, beside a dumpster.

Fucking useless piece of crap.

You couldn't keep them out?

You're worthless.

You-

It's all just echoing around, piling in your head. Your head is between your knees as you rock back and forth.

It-

It scares the shit out of you when a pair of hands carefully rests on your shoulders.

You let out a little scream, not expecting anyone to have followed you. It's Katrina. You're relieved for a second but quickly tense again.

Shit, you hadn't meant to wake her on the way out.

"Hey, it's okay, it's just me. Im sorry I scared you."

She's hesitant to speak at first, processing what she's going to say, you assume. So you speak first.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up."

She shakes her head at that.

"Baby, that's not the problem. In fact, I'd rather you have woken me up... baby, what's going on? What's happening in that head of yours? Talk to me, why are we out here?"

"I-." Your voice is shaky, and you have to clear your throat. Your eyes drift to look anywhere but at her.

Her fingers on your chin bring your gaze back though.

"Look at me. What's going on?"

Your words are mumbled softly, like you're trying to force them out, but they just let out almost inaudibly. Thankfully, traffic outside had calmed down in the earlier hours of the morning. So she does hear you when you say it.

"It was just a bad dream, i needed some air."

Her face softens, but she's still sceptical. Thankfully, she doesn't have to prompt you further. Everything just feels so kept up. You let it out slowly, but the more you talk, the more tears that flow out to join the words whispered.

"It's just... God, I feel so stupid. It's not like everyone around me isn't dealing with the same shit."

She's silent as you try and process what to say.

"I- everything's just collapsing in on itself, it feels like... I know it's not the end for me, or for us as a team, but..." There's a little understanding dawning on her face. "Everything in my head has just been crumbling lately. Yesterday, just kind of, I don't know? Completed that? Compiled it? I don't know. It just built and built and built and everything's just being thrown back at me again."

"So that dream...?" She urges gently.

"Was just everything compiling in one go."

"Do you want talk about what happened in it?"

"I-not here, I won't make us have this conversation beside a dumpster."

Katrina laughs a little, letting her hand come up to hold your cheek. "Fuck baby, we could have this conversation on the edge of a cliff and I would still sit and listen. Whereever you wanna be my sweet girl."

You let yourself lean into the warmth of her hand, the cold now having started to seep into you as you're sitting down on the concrete.

You nod quickly. "Let's go. My ass is starting to freeze." She chuckles and pulls you to your feet gently.

Thankfully, Katrina had half the mind to leave the access door unlatched, and you sneak back into the hotel with little to no trouble.

Back in the darkness of the hotel room, you're leant back into her, sitting between her legs on the bed. Her hands run through your hair, gently scratching at your scalp as you replay the events of the nightmare.

"It was so daunting, and it just kept finding its way into my head, and just... god... I love Sam... and I know she would never, but... it just felt so real."

"And it just kept going. It just devolved into... well. My old foster dad... he just..."

Tears started to well up, and you couldn't finish it after that. The words wouldn't come out. At your hesitation, Katrina is quick hush you, pressing her lips to your temple.

"It's okay, baby, you don't have to say it. I'm so sorry you have to deal with that."

"S'not your fault, just my stupid brain."

" Your brain is just trying to help you process the loss, okay? You've suffered so much, and it's okay to be grieving and dealing with it how you need to deal with it."

You lean your head back against her shoulder, letting the tears fall. God, you didn't deserve this woman. She was an amazing mother, a brilliant football player, and an amazing soon to be wife, too. She doesn't wipe the tears away this time, and you let them go.

Instead, she holds you. She lets you cry into her.

She lets you cry into the super early hours of the morning before you finally manage to exhaust yourself into a heavy sleep, tucked between her arms and her whispering sweet nothings, soft praises, and promises of forever with you as you do.

"I know it hurts, baby girl, but we're all here for you, and I've got you, and I'm not gonna let go in a hurry or ever."

You may not be able to tell her everything yet, but she sure as hell would make sure she was there to listen when you do.

[endless-ineffabilities]

MORE MARQUIS MOREEEEEEE I LOOOOOOVED IT, L - O - V - E - D ITTT!!!!!!!

le marquis et le moineau - (ill)fated

Marquis de Gramont x f!reader

synopsis: one of several short stories, set up as a prequel to this oneshot of le marquis et le moineau. This is set in the early days, depicting the beginning of what would turn into a dangerous mutual infatuation.

more of moineau: le marquis et le moineau ▪︎ first dance ▪︎ other works

word count: 2.5k ▪︎ themes/warnings: slow burn, mentions of violence (it's the John Wick universe ofc), language

"Welcome to the New York Continental. How may I be of service?" Charon asks in his flawless genial manner.

You stand behind him, his shadow in training. After only 3 short months as the 'Assistant to the Concierge' - (a title you picked over 'Assistant Concierge', in reference to a certain beloved TV series) - you've come to learn the ins and outs of the Continental.

What makes it tick. The demands of its peculiar crowd of usual guests. What is required to keep such an establishment up and running.

In truth, it takes a lot of fucking work. Much and more need to be swept under the rug so as to not attract attention. Guests need to be kept satisfied, their particular requests adhered to. As long as it is well within the rules of the High Table, of course.

The only thing separating you from the animals.

As if everyone in this sort of life has not already become animal. Well, isn't ignorance such bliss.

The man who introduced himself as Chidi says, "I have come ahead of my superior, the Marquis de Gramont. Needless to say, we must ensure that everything is well-prepared for his stay here in New York. Wouldn't you agree, Charon?"

"Of course, sir." Charon tilts his head. "I will personally see to that, don't you worry. Is he still set to arrive tonight at the planned hour?"

"He should be here at 6 this evening. I trust that the... agitator is being dealt with?"

Charon walks in front of the counter, taking a parcel from a bellhop. He keeps his gaze trained on Chidi. "With compliments of the Continental, sir. The proprietor has ensured that the liability will be brought to the penthouse of the Marquis."

"Very good." Chidi taps Charon on the shoulder once, before walking away, a satisfied sneer on his face.

"Just remember, sir," Charon calls out to him, making his stop in his tracks, "that no business may be conducted on Continental grounds."

"Hmm."

After a moment, you move to stand beside Charon.

"So, sir, what was that all about?"

He turns his head towards you fondly. "I'm sure you've heard of Marquis Vincent de Gramont."

"Well, I've heard that he comes across as a pompous ass, if that's what you mean."

Charon simply raises his eyebrows at you, already accustomed to your blunt, sarcastic manner of speaking. "Well, he will be staying with us for a couple of days, as he has some... business to deal with."

"I won't even ask."

He moves to stand in front of you, finding your eyes. "Dear child, might I suggest steering clear of the Marquis and his associates whilst he is in residence with us here? It would simply be for the best. His reputation does preceed him."

You can't help but smile at Charon's nickname for you, one that heralds back to when your family first moved across the hall from him in one of the High Table sponsored apartment buildings in downtown Manhattan.

You had been only 12, but you were already well aware of your father's line of work. One that required him to be away on business to faraway cities each month, and caused him to rub elbows with the dregs of the underworld.

Not all of them were bad though. You grew fond of some of his associates, namely Charon, of course. And the one they called the Baba Yaga, but to you he was just Johnny.

John Wick hated the name, but he liked you, so the name stayed. Him and his then wife somehow became your second set of parents, with your dad never around and your mother usually drowning in her fancy liquor.

More than a decade later, your father met his end on one of his jobs. One that was only supposed to be "quick and easy". He promised he would be back to you in no time, with a box of your favourite chocolates from Paris.

But he never came. And neither did the fucking chocolates, which truthfully, you now hated. Your father lost his life in that city, so you grew to loathe everything about it.

And now comes the Marquis, the man practically in charge of all of Paris. Not to the public eye, of course.

If Charon asks you to steer clear of him, it must be for good reason.

But you've never been good at following orders. Or staying out of trouble. Or keeping your mouth shut.

"Whoever this Marquis is, I can handle him," you say determinedly. "I'll just act normal, do my job, go about business as usual."

Charon takes a deep breath, resigning himself. "Very well. Just try not to catch his eye." A tenant raises her hand, demanding his attention, so he starts to head her way.

"You know me," you call after him, an impish grin on your face. "I'm only a shadow."

The Marquis de Gramont stands in the ornate lobby of the Continental, surrounded by his posse. Clad in an impeccable three-piece cream suit, his hair perfectly coiffed, his polished shoes gleaming to the naked eye.

He is never beating those pompous ass allegations. You can't help but smirk from your post behind the concierge desk.

You look down briefly, smoothing out invisible creases on your black button-up shirt. Don't laugh. You roll out your shoulders. Compose yourself.

Winston and Charon had greeted his entourage upon entering, and they've been hashing out the details of his stay for the last minute or two. Apparently, the Marquis has some very specific demands. Of course he does.

Those in the group exchange some final words, nodding to each other, seemingly satisfied. Charon raises his arm, directing the Marquis. "Right this way, if you please."

Hands on his hips, the Marquis makes his way over to the private elevator. Which only means that he will have to pass by your post.

You try to keep your head down, as a practiced sign of cordiality. Also, so that you don't let out an impromptu sneer. But you can't help it. Right when he passes by, you raise your head.

And he is already looking straight at you.

The corner of his lips is in a downturn, as if he is judging you where you stand. Pompous prick.

You don't let it faze you. "Welcome to the Continental. We hope you enjoy your stay," you greet him, eyes not leaving his in some sort of defiance.

"Hmm." He walks by, slowly, and you only want to urge him on. But just when he is clear of the reception desk, he turns on his heel.

"What is your name?" He asks, a perfect brow raised in anticipation.

You answer him, keeping your voice steady. You've learned a long time ago not to allow men like him the chance to intimidate you.

A momentary pause, before he repeats your name. You want to hate the way he says it, as if he testing it on his tongue, seeing how it tastes.

But hell, that French accent can make anything sound heavenly.

"Is there a problem, monsieur?" Charon has moved to your side, wary of the attention from the marquis.

Marquis de Gramont barely acknowledges Charon with a sideways glance, before looking back to you. "Non, no problem at all."

He finally walks away. But of course, of course he has to drive a chill up your spine as he calls over his shoulder, "Have her come up to me in twenty minutes."

You grit your teeth in an attempt to maintain cordiality. "Excuse me, sir?" He could have at least addressed me himself.

Nothing. He doesn't even look back at you as he enters the elevator, head dipped in hushed whispers to his security team.

"So much for your being 'only a shadow', hmm?" Charon echoes your sentiment, which has just been apparently disproven.

Winston draws closer, worried look on his face as he says, "Quite a conundrum, dear one. I'm considering sending someone else in your place, however, he did ask for you markedly."

Your stomach churned. "Maybe he just needs some attending? Room service? Basic cleanup? I don't know..." Basic cleanup being clearing the blood of the surfaces of his penthouse, especially after he deals with the man the establishment had caught and presented to him.

Deals with. But not kill. Never that. Not whilst on Continental grounds, that is.

Winston responds, "Perhaps so. I trust that you will handle it? I know you can, child."

You straighten yourself. "Of course I can. He's just some overgrown French brat."

But what the fuck does he want?

"If anything," Winston adds calmly, "and worst comes to worst, your dear Uncle Johnny would surely be happy to lend a hand."

Of course he will. Feeling much lighter, you shoot a smile at Charon and Winston, before returning to your post behind the desk.

18 more minutes.

The Marquis stays in the biggest penthouse of the Continental. The most exclusive part of the property, made even more opulent per his request.

New pieces of artwork are hung on the walls, requested from some New York Baron's private collection. Not that he had a choice.

The man - the traitor - known as Laurent had been staying at the Continental in the week prior, stupidly believing that he is free of the Marquis.

It only took one phone call, and of course, Winston had to relent. They kept Laurent in one of their best suites, lulling him into a false sense of security, all while preparing for the Marquis' arrival.

Then Laurent's room was filled with nitrous oxide, and he was tied up and taken to the Marquis' penthouse.

Laurent sits in a lone wooden chair, nearly unconscious in the middle of the drawing room as you enter, a gash of deep red on his temple.

Chidi sits directly in front of him, seemingly carrying out the interrogation. His superior, on the other hand, lazily sits on the plush couch on the far side of the room. Looking as if he'd rather be anywhere but here. As if there isn't a man being tortured right in front of his eyes.

One of his men announces your arrival, but you sense the Marquis has already noticed your presence.

You clear your throat. "You asked for me, sir?"

"Mmm," he hums, and tilts his head. "Tell me, what was so funny?"

"I'm sorry?"

"When you first saw me in the lobby," he stands, stalking over to you, "you smirked. I wish to know what it was that brought you to react in such a manner."

This is why he asked for me? Because I smirked? Oh, for fuck's -

He steps forward, closer. "Cat got your tongue?"

"No, sir, I... I must admit, I don't quite remember what you speak of. I smirk to myself all the time. I've got plenty of inside jokes and all that."

"To yourself?"

"Yes."

"Are you... well in the head?" He twirls his fingers beside his temple. The bastard.

"Yes, Marquis." You take a deep breath, but you can't help yourself. "But I assure you I'm just as demented as you are."

A gloom falls over his face, and you sense his security team tense up. Preparing for him to say the word.

Your eyes trail around the room, and continue, "And everyone else in this world of ours."

The Marquis stares at you. Half-indignant, and dare you think it, half-amused.

His lips twitch, fighting back a smirk of his own, and his eyes rake your figure. From your uniform shoes to your hands to your lips. Then back to your gaze.

"Fair point." He shrugs, and the room settles once again. His men look away from the pair of you.

He turns, beckoning you to follow. A few feet in front of Laurent, he asks, "What do you make of this?"

Of this? You mean of him? The way the Marquis speaks, as if Laurent is merely a thing to be dealt with and not a person, bothers you. But such is the way of your world.

"Laurent Castillon. French-Italian sommelier. If I understand correctly, he cheated you out of what would have been successful dinner plans."

Sommelier, an arms dealer. Dinner plans, whatever you can concoct with the use of guns. You're more than accustomed to the language, having picked it up over the years.

"Excellent." The Marquis clasps his hands, pleased. "Now, what do you make of this? What would you do, if you were in my shoes?"

He is testing you, prodding you on. Seeing if you would curl back in your shell or flinch.

Is there a wrong answer here, or is this all just some game?

"I would set things right, I suppose."

"You suppose?" He repeats, dissatisfied. "We don't deal in half measures."

"I would - ," you look him directly in his eyes, "I would make him pay."

Something sparks in Marquis de Gramont's eyes. Recognition? Appreciation? Excitement?

"Won't that be a waste?" He takes a step closer, eliminating the space between you.

Stand your ground.

You shrug, "Such is life."

He smiles, "Indeed, petit moineau."

In a flash, without breaking your gaze, he takes a handgun from the inner lining of his jacket and shoots Laurent in the knee. He keels over, screaming.

The familiar sound rings in your ears, making you dig your nails in the flesh of your palm.

The Marquis does not even flinch, does not even look at Laurent who is writhing on the floor in pain.

"And what now?" He rubs an eyebrow with his thumb, still holding his gun carelessly with that hand.

"That depends." What the fuck did he call me? Moineau? "How gracious do you feel tonight?"

"Why?"

"Well," you say carefully, knowing the wrong word might set him off, "you could let the fool go. You've already taught him a lesson."

A long, torturous pause. He does not seem to like that suggestion.

"Take him away." He gives a sudden order, and all his men rush to obey. Seconds pass, and Laurent is out of your sight. Only Chidi and two other men are left hovering in the corner.

"Leave us," the Marquis finally says. Well, shit.

The door shuts behind the men, and you are left alone, with one of the most notorious men in the city. Perhaps the world.

"What's going to happen to him?" You find yourself asking, to fill the silence and also because you're genuinely curious.

He looks at you in confusion, as if the answer is the most obvious thing. "He dies, of course."

You swallow, a picture of forced composure. "Of course."

He rolls his eyes. "Sure, not here on the Continental and all that nonsense. But it does not matter. He dies anyway."

He dies. He says that so easily, like a life means nothing. It probably means nothing to him. Your father would probably have only been another life to spend, just another one in the roster, in his eyes.

"I hope you aren't busy," he says, walking to the other room.

"What did you have in mind?" Why can't he just send me away already?

"We shall dine together. I could use the company."

You grumble under your breath, "So much for being a shadow."

"Pardon?" He asks, just before reaching the archway to the dining room.

"I said, it would be my pleasure."

"Hmm."

Two can play at this game, Marquis.

And even more to come - taglist open!

Next in moineau...

More Marquis, just as it should be.

My HotD series works are not going to be discontinued. The next part to fire like yours will be up next, but don't hold me to it 🖤😉

[liminarystars]

Hi! I really like the Dazai x female reader in a high school AU!

Can I request, before dating each other, they have like a sport competition against a few other school. Then from another top school, Fyodor tries to get closed to female reader and flirt with her. Which end up with Fyodor fighting dazai (bcz Dazai like fem reader).

a/n: i literally got like zero clue what kind of sports both fyodor and dazai would do at a athletics day. work with me here. not proof read.

character: osamu dazai

pronouns: she/her

As she tied up her hair and got ready for the sports day, a day best spent running and doing other sports and try to win first place for the school. Her eyes locked on to a boy from another school.

She adverted her gaze as she saw Dazai, trying his best at long jump. Watching as his face contorts as he tries to focus on falling forwards. The want in his eyes of getting a bigger and longer distance than the other boys. The need and desire clear in his gaze.

She ignores the other boy, running up to the long jump sand pit. Cheering him on.

"Go Dazai! You got this!" She smiled ear to ear, clapping as he finally fell forwards. Planting his hands deep into the sand as he extended his score.

"10.4 meters!" Was shouted by the offical, letting his measuring tape roll back with a loud click. A happy and confidant smile painted on his face.

She was about to run and go congragulate him in person, after his remaining jumps were done. Only for a hand to pull her back and tug at her sports jacket.

"I'm Fyodor." It was that guy again, he would not leave her alone. Was she that approachable? She didn't know.

"Hi?" She responded, her voice laced with confusion and a tone that clearly read 'get away from me'. She pulled her arm away from him and closed off her body language. A distance being created to divide herself from him.

"You're from that middle school? The one in Shibuya?" He leaned in closer, wrapping a arm around her shoulders. A obvious sign of flirting, one so clear that a social hobbit could tell.

That was when Dazai strode in, drinking from his water bottle. Drinking the water as if it'd disapear before his very eyes. But the contentment from his refreshment soured as he saw the scene before him.

"What are you doing?" He snarled, shoving Fyodor back and away from her. He in turn, wrapped his jacket around her and pulled her closer. As if giding her away from a threat.

"Just meeting the opposition." Fyodor shrugged, acting as if he was pure. As if he was a saint of sorts.

This devolved to a argument, leading her only option to pull her hotheaded friend out of the way. Dragging him by the collar to a bench near the track.

"What was that for?" She chidied, swatting him playfully. But her voice was stern. Annoyed even.

"I can't stand it when someone makes you feel worried or uneasy."

divider by @/cafekitsune

© 2024 liminarystars - all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate or plagerise my content.

[rosevette]

Could you do headcanons for the marquis x reader. Is he uncharacteristically sweet or is he possessive? How did they meet? Does the reader know about his job? How is he when jealous? In bed? He definitely gives “touch her and you die” vibes. What’s his live languages. I need the works!

also really love your writing ❤️❤️❤️ it is deadass getting me through college 😭

holy shit thank you so much. you’re definitely boosting my morale for writing :)

❛ HOW DID THEY MEET ? ༉‧₊˚ marquis x reader

✮ i have a few ideas in mind of how they met, but for this post I’ll choose an “underworld gala,” held by the Marquis himself. Something tells me he loves the chase.

He sees you dressed in elegance walking through the gala, turning to Chidi as he whispers in his ear. “Who’s she?”

He eventually greets you, walking up to you as he speaks that strong french accent of his.

At first you reject, knowing the man’s advances. His flirtatious behavior doesn’t stop there though.

✮ He didn’t want to force you into his bed. He could’ve easily done so, but he needed you to come to him. Endlessly stalking you, getting Chidi to follow you everywhere.

You eventually give in. The amount of times you’ve ran into each other can’t be coincidence, right?

❛ NOW THAT YOU’RE TOGETHER… ༉‧₊˚

✮ His job? You don’t really know of. He doesn’t talk much about it. He’s a rich prick, it doesn’t really matter.

“Yeah, I collect art. Buy them. Resell them.”

Think of him as a sugar-daddy. His main love language is gift-giving. And physical touch of course.

“Van Cleef? In my favorite color too?” You say as you hold the pendent against your chest, admiring the jewel.

✮ You’re always by his side. Always. In social gatherings, his hands are always on you, one way or another. He’s possessive, obsessive, and he treats you like a trophy to brag around his associates.

18+ ONLY BELOW THE CUT !

“You think I didn’t see the way you talked to him? Fucking brat..”

✮ The nights are endless whenever he catches you even speaking to another man at a social gathering, if it isn’t with him. He’s very possessive. Sure he doesn’t show it in public, kinda smiles it off to see if you’d keep going or not. He even gives you the silent treatment in the car ride back home, but as soon as you guys arrive back home, he’s all over you, bruises everywhere, the bedsheets all wet.

You love it. You love the way his cock just thrusts into your cervix all the way without even trying, even counting down the inches he has before completely disappearing himself into your sore cunt, and at the end of the day, he doesn’t let you cum.

If you do, he’ll just keep going, never stopping, making sure all of your holes are occupied.

✮ As for the dickhead that talked to you? Probably dead in some alleyway.

Think “Joe Goldberg” but rich, and more discreet, making others do the killing for him.

[itgirlgyu]

TXT WITH A S/0 WHO IS A MEDICAL STUDENT!

ꞌꞋ ࣪𓂃 ִֶָ 🍅 txt! ot5 x gn! reader. .... word count: 1051.

GENRE: FLUFF, CRACK. this has been REQUESTED!

⿻ YEONJUN..

Always hypes you up for your academics.

Suggests that he would stay up with you to help you study for your tests.

Is already snoring away by the time you get to the second passage.

You let him off the hook because he looks very cute with his cheeks pressed on one of your books and his supple, candied lips jutting out.

But you draw the line immediately when you notice him drooling a little bit and wake him up even though his soft snores were working like your own lofi music.

On self appointed snack duty when you're too overwhelmed by the intense studying or the long hours at the hospital.

Keeps you fed through your busy schedule.

His greeting to you is, "have you eaten?"

Never fails to tell you how amazed he is by your hard working nature and how much it makes him fall in love with you more, and more each passing day.

Does weird things to make you feel better when you're feeling down.

You've once made him wear a bubble pink tutu with a crown and do ballet.

You cherish that video more than your life.

⿻SOOBIN..

Never picks up his call the first time round.

And supposedly you're the busy one.

Nonetheless you keep him around as your boyfriend because he has at least three emergency boxes with written speeches for you at his place in case you have a meltdown and tell him that you're giving up

"Soobin I think I'm gonna g-"

Cue Soobin scrambling to find out the third speech he had hidden in the living room and opening it up to narrate it.

"-o to the bathroom."

Has the audacity to act as though nothing had happened.

Treats you like you're already a doctor by the way he brags about you to anyone that would listen.

He might be a little affected when he can't see your face month after month because of your big examinations but instead tries to make lists of all the things you two can do together when you get time to hang out.

First date is staring at each other's face for three hours.

You bet he's gonna meet you at your last exam at the venue with a bouquet and a rented car to whisk you on a rendezvous.

But not too adventurous.

It's more like going to a new café that opened up with interesting menus.

⿻BEOMGYU..

Some days you loved him—when he would turn up outside the window of your library seat and throw it back while miming the words "i love you" and "you can do it." until he gets chased out by the guard.

And some days you sort of hated him—when he'd have thousands of questions

like my heart skipped a beat, am i dying or am I lovesick because of you?

Constantly.

without an ounce of shame.

Doesn't really care about the time constrainments because if he misses you he'd turn up wherever you are and leave within five minutes after he had his fill of seeing your face.

Is preparing himself to be a trophy husband.

May joke around a lot but he is willing to do anything to support even if you want to quit the studies and pursue something else instead.

Also tries to study with you for your exams and quiz you.

By the third question he has confused himself with those terminologies and needs a break and confesses his newfangled respect for you.

But that doesn't stop from pointing at male genitalia and go, "he peepee" with a dumb smile.

⿻TAEHYUN..

Your number one support system.

But like in a dignified way.

Which means he'd wait for you after your classes and give your peers an intense sense of jealousy.

Words aren't even needed with him.

You could call him and say nothing and he'd be on his way to meet you.

Lots of walking in silence in the park at night holding hands and resting your head on his shoulder.

The only one who follows through his promise to stay with you while studying.

Although sometimes you wish he'd like get bored and leave you alone

Only because he got an spartan style of studying and he ends up looking like an extension of your parents chiding you to study.

Sketching dates with Taehyun!

But instead of drawing cute things—you guys spend time drawing human anatomies.

At first you were irked out but grown to love this quirky little date idea he had come up with.

Isn't the best with verbalizing how much he is proud of you, instead comes to meet you with cut up fruits and little notes with 'you can do it' and littered with little hearts.

Once you start interning at the hospital, he'd try to make more time for you so you rest up because he can tell how daunting your life has become for you after seeing the patients suffering.

⿻HUENING KAI..

Number one support system 2.0.

But the cheerleader kind.

Sends videos of him doing cheerleading choreographies with pompoms to cheer you up but if any of them leaks

he'd disappear off the surface of earth without any words.

Gifted you a plushie with his picture embroidered on it doing his peace signs so you'd feel like he is always with you.

You cried a little but you will be the next one to disappear from earth without a trace if he found out.

Starts off his day by shooting you a text in the morning to help you prepare you for the day with positive vibes.

Like Soobin he has at least three templates of speeches in his head professing how he would support you no matter whichever direction you choose because he knows how hard is the profession you've decided.

But has a more guilty conscience tha Soobin so he at least memorized them off his head.

Always offers his special back rubs when the lover boy senses tingle and notify him of your exhaustion.

He's like, "hmm something tells me you're tired…"

As if cosplaying a panda is something you've done since forever.

Makes too many corny jokes like, "doctor something is wrong with my heart?"

But it's okay because he looks super adorable doing that dumb outdated shit.

©ITGIRLGYU 2023 feedback and reblog is always appreciated!!

PERM' TAGLIST... @full-sunnies @impureperhaps @wonioml @1921choi @ox1-lovesick @forever-in-the-sky2 @minhosdaydreamer

@partywithgyu hopefully you will like it!!!

[siren-sashimi]

Hemimetabolism [HC scenario; Marquis Vincent de Gramont x ballerina!reader]

Contents and warnings: female presenting reader, work place pressure (highly competitive work environment) , Reader has self loathing thoughts, instances of stalking, allusions to exploitation, power plays, intimidation, very long outline…

[Based on an anonymous prompt; HCs on their beginnings] Don't forget, you're working in the arts. Talent alone isn't going to save you a safe spot in life. Patronages in ballet aren't rare, you've to dance every part perfectly, smile at the sponsors, no finger shall be moved the wrong way, never badmouth anyone in your company, your mentor knows you dance your part perfectly yet dance it again and again and again and again to perfection, don't fall off the rails, don't show your exhaustion, don't let anyone hear your crying, perform always towards anyone in excellence.

♦ You know you're good, you wouldn't have been invited for a season to Rome. For nothing but the constant demand, constant scheming for the best part, pressure by patrons, by the artistic director, by the instructor, and by company members, be it for the pettiest reasons, leaves your self confidence raw and frail, tiptoeing the line between a the proverbial stiff upper lip and a breakdown. While everyone around you, including yourself doesn't show any of it.

In addition, patronages are the actual stepping stones for someone's career - someone might be influential enough against the director's will, maybe someone's the choreographer's old classmate . Most hope that whoever throws an eye on them isn't this unpleasant of a person, perhaps someone highty-tighty about arts but not about their protegée's body. And if... maybe they're not too violent, their touches not too unbearable.

♦ New play for the season: "Sylvia". Since you're new, you become a dryad. And the costume-department has some lovely ideas creating  dresses for each tree a dryad could be. Not overwhelming but you made it as part of well-regarded company, you have a visible part, you can work up and up each season. Still, only a dryad as a guest... You surely hadn't put it all in your performance? What could you've done more? Surely, there was something you missed, to focused on your own steps that you didn't lay your eyes on the actual  main characters, how well they master their technique… Maybe the excitement over the invitation into a renominated position had you blinded for everything else. You hadn't been attentive enough, you hadn't been good enough for another role.

♦All company members are asked to attend the season opening party (and of course, training next day starts at 8 am sharp!). An opportunity to garner the favours of sponsors and patrons of the theater, maybe gain some yourself. As ambitious as you feel, you hope a simple dryad will be too uninteresting to make an easy prey.

♦ Tough luck, some guy is extremely interested in picking wall flowers. He seems important enough that people talk to him, a quick chance for you To slip through the cracks. Yet he moves progressively closer to you through the crowd to the point he begins to end conversation with a smile that's straining more and more. Polite save distance isn't safe anymore. You begin to slowly but surely try to move towards the upper bathroom. Are these steps other guests who need to use the facility or...? In increasing panic, you rush past the door and run up even more stairs. Rushing down the dark hallway you almost collide into a large figure. He tells you that you shouldn't be here, why are even here?

♦ The place you planned to become your escape is now guarded by this tall men who seems ready to attack you at any wrong move. "Chidi!" an authoritative voice calls upon the man. The tall man steps away from you, only one step, his gaze still fixed on you. Next to him, behind the door of the balcony area of the building steps another tall man. His clothes are of finest quality as well as way too fancy even for an season opening event at classic arts.

Something in your distressed look, your eyes constantly twitching to the banister you can't see behind you, to check if the creep from downstairs is following you must've told the well-dressed man something. "Rather scared and lost. Leave her be." he tells the one called Chidi. "Um... I am sorry, I didn't want to interrupt." Whatever you could've interrupted anyway "I just wish to go upstairs." "To do what?" Chidi snides in. "I..." you look back "Just a rest, the party got quiet too crowded." Chidi looks unimpressed yet the other shrugs, and waves vaguely behind him. You're allowed to pass.

♦ It is only at the top at the stairwell of the 4th floor, you hear Chidi and the other man again, at least you recognize their voices. These voices arguing with the one of the down-stairs creep. But within minutes the minutes end - all you hear is a dull sound and a wail which quickly ends. What on earth happened? Should you go or not? That didn't sound good although... if that creep won. You retreat into the shadows, deeper into the hallway. At one point, no idea how much time passed, the night is getting too cold, you need at least some slight hours of sleep for the next day. Passing the hallway none, nothing is to be seen. The catering staff is cleaning up the buffet and decorations.

♦ Training starts, one of faunes is already rumoured to have gained himself a sugar daddy, if Orion falters, the faun might become the hunter soon. You are only relieved, your company will stay in their own circles. Even on a night out, you surely won't meet anyone who has any say or money in casting. No consequences, you're not asked to change position so whatever happened at the opening party, you were lucky this time. Only during last rehearsal before the day of first costume fit, your choreographer urges you to actual excellence, you will dance in front of one of the most esteemed patrons. They freed some of their time to pay an extra visit, so shine! A performance during which everyone is nervous, your choreographer's voice harder. Only in the distance, somewhere at the upper balcony all of you can only muster out the dark silhouettes of someone sitting in the chair, other people standing around them.

♦ Next day is first fitting day. Diana is clad in the palest silver, wearing a wreath of stars, on the center a sickle moon. All the dryads wearing bodies in the colour of the stem of their tree, yet the tights are appliqued with the ornaments of these trees, the headwears even have fake leaves. But when you ask for your costume, the seamstress is a bit at loss explaining that yours will need to wait. Here you are, all your fellow dancers transforming into mystic spirits and characters of old tales, whereas all your wear are your regular training attire, colourless, simple. Maybe you had made a big mistake at the party. A detrimental mistake even. ♦ Even the next day your mind is clouded. If these aren't thunder clouds wearing your head down. That is until the seamstress catches you before the changing room. You will be the spirit of a birch tree. Your costume is white except your skirt and sleeves are dyed black on the hems, white tights painting with black marks, gold and green leaves sewn on all over. You're the only dryad with a golden wreath. Maybe you shouldn't feel like a gleeful five year old. You're only a side character, a decorative dancer but the thought how magical you look… your movements feel much livelier. Even back in regular training attire… something magical blooms in you.

♦ This weird giddiness still lingers through all the rehearsals up to the premier. Your entire body is fluttering and floating like a birch's leave in the wind. As if someone saw you and figured your style would come out best in the character of a birch dryad. Dancing like this comes so easy to you, you almost forget that you're just a side character. Of course when you see Sylvia dance, it is as if her body was a petal in the wind, Diana's movement swift, effortless whereas even the lift of her little finger demands all attention on stage, you think that you maybe be a happy tree but in the end you are tree on stage.

♦ For the evening of the dress rehearsal the theater has good news: As little appetizer, the patreons of the theater organized a little meeting with champagne and snacks. They even somehow booked the Villa Borghese. All of your nerves are too tense to actually care much about the idea of party. And what if you meet that creep from last time? At least everyone would be lenient on you excusing yourself early, all of you would understand needing a rest. But when you arrive there, only the entrance area being lit for a get-together, dancers and instructors small talking in pleasantries, the man from last time was nowhere to be seen. In the evening's twilight, slowly drifting away from the crowd you finally have time to actually view some art in Rome, in peace, only far off voices, no crowd of tourists… Admiring the great Titian, and Caravaggio for yourself.

♦Of course, so many Bernini's, so, so many. One you know from previous art references of aestheticized pictures of the Internet. The beautiful Appollon hunting after the despairing Daphne. The physicality, Daphne's agony immediately understandable. Having the time and silence to study the statue you perhaps got you so lost in it, you only resurface after you become aware of another person's presence next to you.

♦ He stands perfectly still, hand in his left pocket. Perhaps that perfect poise and silent movements hid his presence for a while. Otherwise he's hard to overlook. Definitely taller than many men, an aura at ease as only someone untouchable, so powerful is (almost like Diana of stage), and that suit… "Oh, it is you…!" you remember loudly from the last party. Still studying Bernini's work, he lightly tilts his head, giving at best a small hum. Then he turns his head towards you. "So you remembered?" That comment tucks at the corners of your mouth. "You're not easy to forget, Signore. Your style alone…" No reaction from his side. Due the difference in  height he of course has to look down to you. Yet… perhaps it's just the natural form of his big eyes, the way eyes in lighter colours pronounce the pupil. It feels like being watched. You quickly try correct and impoliteness. After all he… "You saved me that night. That's hard to forget." "Hmm" he shifts ever so slightly "how so?" Carefully you eye him. "Perhaps I was a bit speculating but the last things I heard were your voices and-" that uncomfortable sound of a body hit, perhaps a cracked nose "he was gone." This man's nose looked intact. "Perhaps there's also thanks due to your… companion, the one in the grey suit." Whatever you said seems to amuse your saviour. He huff, his grin showing his teeth. "Well" he says "It's been a long time since I wasted fists on an cretin like him. It was worth it." What has been worth it? You tense. Perhaps you were too alerted by the nightmare idea of having to crawl at a patron's feet but suddenly you become aware of the man in front of you. Both of you are too far away to hear any other voice from the party. He was practically towering over you, hands large, strong enough to break a nose with one hit… His attire, his hair, his cologne reeked of wealth. Good grief, he was part of the group that could book out the Villa Borghese for a private event.

"Such philistines wouldn't even recognize art if it would scream at them. They only throw money at the idea of titillation. And I've to share my sparse time at the same meetings with these swines." In his monologue your breath became more even. Just a bit intimidating looking bohemian, wasn't he? Suddenly his eyes snap back at you. "Don't you think a thanks is appropriate to the one who saved your skin? I even sullied my hand hitting him" Don't flinch! you remain to yourself, doing your best to overhear your mind screaming at you to run. Have you ever had paid attention how broad his shoulders are? How even these so well cut suits betray a strong physique?  If you play any game you can only loose. "Thank you." you decide to reply. Simply, that's all. ♦ A smirk carves into his face. A silent prayer passes through your mind when you see this, a litany begins when he bows down to you. "No, no, that won't do." Large green eyes fixing on yours. Internally you check all the technique you've ingrained in yourself, breathing calm enough, posture not too tense - if only no fear creeps upwards your eyes.

Not too close, but close enough to smell his subtle perfume, refreshing, dark, like a forest, so elegant. "I would say you owe me some damn good performance. Your effort for mine, sounds like a fair exchange, wouldn't you say?".

His smile looks satisfied, less directed to you. He leaves you standing there, leaves you confused. Is your patron - with these words he is, right?- just a chivalrous peacock or a patient wolf?

♦ The premiere is met by roaring applause! The titular Sylvia isn't only loved by Amintas, the audiences adores her too. At the last step, all of you fauns, nymphs, Artemis herself, beholding Sylvia's happy end, all you can think how grandiose the first dancer was. At the thought how good you have to get to reach any glory of hers, your toes ache beyond the exhaustion of the evening.

♦ It's party time announcement! While the faun, lead by Sylvia's dancer are popping open their first champagne, the adrenaline rushing as much as the bubbles in the flutes. Maybe you would've celebrated too but after the curtain fell, tiredness struck heavy on you. You don't know why. You dance's impeccably but only as much as a dryad can… Did you do your best performance. And compared to the greatness of the lead dancers…

Trying to sneak away you bump into something heavy. Trying to figure out whatever this object is you recognize that it was the familiar frame of someone you already had bumped into. Chidi… hadn't that been his name? "Would you be so kind to accept the Marquis' invitation?" he tells you, ignoring you just trudged on his polished leather shoes. "Who…. You mean your…" in what relation did they even stand to each other? And what Marquis? "You mean the… sharply dressed companion of yours?"

"The Marquis yes. So what do you say to dinner?"

"Just dinner?" The way Chidi doesn't bat an eyelash nor moves any muscle makes you wonder if he ever danced too with his composure. Yet offers you a small kindness: "The dining place isn't exactly what I would call discreet. If you please, Miss, the Marquis isn't patient."

♦ With only the most flashy parts of your stage makeup hastily wiped off, and off-stage clothes which look drab and tired even against Chidi's impeccable grey uniform, you're escorted to a louder part of the inner city of Rome. The place is well packed for a Friday, definitely more quaint than chique. Chidi and you are greeted by a quiet yet friendly waiter, led to a room behind a curtain. In it, a door's open to a much more quiet backyard.

The Marquis, it is him, the man from the parties, is dressed in champagne white, more befititng a visit to the opera than this (albeit cozy) place. Leaned against the back of his chair, eyes following one of Rome's cats, balancing on the walls of the backyard. At Chidi's announcement he gives you polite smile.

♦ You're served fried artichokes. (Chidi is relegated to a table behind the curtain, presumably designated to dine on his own.) In spite of the tiredness seeping into your bones, the bewilderment of whatever goes in, the smell so rich, savoury, the sweet bitterness of the artichoke… At your host announcing: "Bon appetit, you worked for it." only your manners save you from wolfing it down. The melange of  and the smoky after taste, rich golden taste of oil, turning the bitterness sweet is nothing you've tasted before, a sensation so gladdening it washes over your thrumming nerves. Looking up, you see your host smiling, again. You can't read it. "It's good" you initiate the conversation "it really is. It was kind of you to invite me here. Thank you." "It's nothing chique yet I remember it from my first travel to Rome. Even in better establishments nothing comes close to this."

♦Surprisingly, the conversation flows easily. Your nebulous host introduces himself as Marquis Vincent de Gramont, he's from France (he's fine with English, if you want to drop the Italian you meticulously put together for this season). Although such mentions make you almost drop your fork, he easily smoothes from such grand revelations to talk about your play. Apparently he's a patron of the Opera in Rome, indeed he's very fond of ballet. Asks how you came to balett. Actually the conversation is so lovely, you almost forget your first meeting, his title. But after the dessert plates are taken away (Chestnut tartellette), he stands up and offers you his arm, it all comes back. "Walk with me." Hesitance from… precaution? Nervosity from the attention from such a vibrant man (and what all that could mean…)?

The pause has been too long to appear as courteous. Without looking into Monsieur de Gramont's eyes your threat your hands around his elbow, leaving the now empty restaurant, Chidi following you in some meters of distance. ♦ Outside, Roman night life is as vivid as it can be on a Weekend, although calm enough that you can be unbothered. Vincent walks comfortably whereas you… don't know where you're going. "Monsieur…!" you speak up out of a sudden before suspicion morphs into panicked fear "why…" The deep orange light of the street life cuts a sharp profile of the Marquis' face, even in the dark his eyes are clear enough about to flit… in the profile you see one eye slowly, almost lazily slide towards the direction of the tense figure on his arm. "What is it?" "Why are you doing… why are you so nice to me?" Now he pulls his arm out of your hold, stands up before you, looking down to you. So, so many people pass loudly talking, laughing, arguing over the cobbled streets, the two of you could as well stand in the silent. Next to you only the silent, immovable marble, Daphne's face contorted in metamorphosis and despair.

"Why can't I be nice to you?" "May I be frank?" "I doubt anything you say make me even quiver. But if you need, I'll permit it."

"None in a position such as yours…" (if there's anyone else who could ever be in a higher position, if there was anyone ever like this man, you just know it by the richness of his clothes, by the day he still moves as if he was invisible for those who shouldn't see him) "Any patronage, be it art for art's sake, isn't out benevolence. They demand at least a good piece of art in exchange. At least…" you stress "And you… well, see where you got us. What you wear, what you make possible. In all frankness, if your ever were to ever ask anything of me, there's no chance I could refuse. You probably know it by instinct. And I'm afraid your words make such a probability become fact." "Please don't take it as an accusation of your character, this world I move in works on unspoken rules." you add quickly. Have you gone too far? Probably he would only need to lift his pinkie of the left hand and you could forget even having a silent role in a local theater production.

♦ Indeed he huffs, shakes his head. "Well, I wasn't wrong about you. Indeed I want to bring you to a hotel room, if you would be so kind to follow me." Once again for this evening he offers you his arm. In your eyes it has the same outlines of a noose. By the unspoken rules of the world to literally tip toe in… you have to tie it around your neck. For a while you two (Chidi somewhere behind) walk in silence, your stomach churning. The food was too good to turn sour in your mouth. Your thoughts are racing. Sure, he's handsome, and could move heaven and earth with no effort, he reeks of money. But what would you need to do for him? Men this handsome and rich are the least suspected (if anything could ever reach such a man). For some patrons already having a dancer on their whim was an ideal board of powerplay… sex just one that gratified ego and sexual urges. Maybe a slither of hope is that the Marquis' this rich that you would be a quick past time. "You know the story of the nymph Echo?" His questions tears you out of the current of your racing thoughts.

♦ Quickly you roam through your mind. "Wasn't that the story with Narcissus?" "Indeed. And?" "Um… she… was cursed to repeat the last words that could be spoken to her. Narcissus wouldn't have her any way, he… I don't know if I remember it correctly, either he thought of her as stupid as she only repeated his words or he already was in love with his own reflection. "Do you know what happened to her." "I only know that he drowned himself." You two stepped into the hallway of a baroque hotel, only by passing you noticed a small plaque naming it "il Continentale". While recounting this story, the Marquis lead you up a spiral staircase. Why wouldn't he take an elevator? The far rings of elevators were to be heard in the lobby. "Echo", the Marquis continued "was so humiliated, she retreated into a cave, didn't eat, didn't drink, he bones turned to stone. But nymphs are, in a way, immortal. He voice remained. "The arm you held pulled you down a carpet laid out hallway. "You know the other way Echo died?" She would die once again? You could only shake our head. Room numbers, there were so few rooms, they passed into a blur. 21, 22… there, there it was a bight door. Even the pristine white paint couldn't elevate how heavy the wood must be. "The god Pan was in love with her, she didn't. In fury of her refusal of him he tore her apart, threw all he parts between the mountains. There they ghost around, still resounding from the rock faces. Now you two stood facing the door. No taste in mouth, no feeling in any of your usually so sharp limbs. Your palms felt under the rich material of your patron how hard the Marquis' arm muscles were. He has told you all this like he talked about the weather forecast. Hadn't looked at you but opened the door. You sprung to run the other way. In the hallway, a forecast shadow, in the middle of it all stood Chidi. "Come on in." the Marquis called you. "we don't have all night." If Echo's last remains was only her voice, you dearly, dearly wished it would be the thing that would be heard of you too. But in the end all there was left was memory, she's died violently anyway. ♦ The room was excessive. In the way Baroque is excessively luxurious, heavily, suffocating though. Like a cat finding quick comfort, the Marquis seated himself into an armchair of the room, facing you. His face hardly readable, although you would guess it was… relaxed? Unbothered? What should you do know. Chidi hasn't followed… "You know what's your problem?" Monsieur de Gramont asked you. You're still standing, close by the door. Over your silence he continues. "You're selling yourself short." Have you even offered yourself to him yet? "You don't know your worth yet, and lesser men, like that rancid trash who followed you… well, even he knows about your worth and wants to exploit it." "You don't?" It slips out quietly. Suddenly the Marquis' face drops, he jumps up, and struts over to quick like a leopard falling over it's prey. He does this again. Again he hulks over you, green eyes drilling into you, lighting up too brightly. The silent look itself is a command to your to respond whereas your body, your instinct screams to barge through this heavy oak-wood door somehow, somehow dash past Chidi, somewhere, anywhere away from this transfixing gaze. "Would you like me to?"

♦ His cologne is so clear, even in panic you notice how tasteful it his. You two are so close, the warmth of his breath brushes over your lips. It is almost too hot, it melts your frozen body as if someone threw boiling water on ice in winter. The paralysis cracks a little - enough for you to drop you gaze. ♦ A clack of shoes. Carefully you eye the Marquis who'd taken a step back. "There, you did it again." He shakes his head "You're probably clever enough to notice by know but I wouldn't need to waste any time or money on a dinner and a chat "You think that all this" a broad hand waves over the golden glittering, fresco overpainted room "is for fornication. Pardon me, my dear, but if for such a brachial purpose, I wouldn't need time to satisfy such needs." So why creep me out like this? You wanted to scream although there was this little observative, sharp part in you. This part in your picking up in clues, listening to the little bits dropped in conversations that could offer positions, roles, opportunities… Where was this conversation going. "My life is unpleasant enough. I would like to enjoy at least something beautiful. Both of us can agree that out exchange is created for mutual exchange. In simple terms: You will be granted my protection from any unsuited… let's call them supporters, and I demand your excellency. But" Vincent raises a finger "you have to deliver myself excellency. Understood."

Entirely flabbergasted you can only nod. "Excellent. So we have an agreement. If you would be so kind to not look like a deer in the headlights anymore." ♦  Through the confusion all your relief bursts through with all the fear Monsieur has indeed helped build up. And if you can judge by all the years of pressure induced in your training, he knew exactly what he said. Every single, every single damn word was cleverly laid out. "So that's all?! And what is this" grand gesture over this excess of a room "then?! Why tell me about the gruesome of murdered women-" "Echo" "starving or ripped to shreds, these stories are still scary."

As an answer there was this cryptic smile on his lips. The Marquis stepped forward, reach past you for the door handle. In the often so repeated gesture, his hand waved over an room with stucco at every corner, covered in gold leaf, walls painted with scenes of luscious forests, too tame, too bright to resemble any real forest, in-between  branches half-dressed characters, from myths your partially knew or believed to know, dancing, holding the other down, laughing, vases full of flowers smelling in their own beauty, a window open to the deep blue night. "This" Vincent says "this is a little thanks for your splendid work tonight. I choose the right tree-spirit for you, my dear dryad. A taste of my upcoming thanks. And the stories…" For a moment he might have looked at you, yet his thoughts were somewhere else "…just the coincidences what role you play, that I meet you at the statue of Daphne's. Romanticism is a blinding understanding of the world yet… I think if you give a thought about all these nymphs… I think you might draw an revealing thesis for yourself." With a nod he opens the door. "Good night, my dear. Breakfast is ordered for you. Recover well. I will see you on stage tomorrow evening."

Notes: Gosh, I really wanted the statue of Apollon and Daphne featured so re-wrote everything to take place in Rome, I don't even know if the Roman Ballet is this good that Reader develops complexes.

While writing Chidi interactions, I was also shortly inspired by the idea how reader is a protegée for Vincent purely for art for art's sake. Chidi has to watch the Marquis at all time, so naturally he has to accompany the Marquis at his leisure views as well. And Chidi falls for her. Could be cute, Chidi using the few minutes his boss doesn't inflict trouble on himself trying to be sweet for the reader, complimenting her, and wanting to learn more about classic ballet to talk to them a bit more. Make of that dark menacing guard dog pining, blushing and fumbling for words to start a conversation.

[madwomansapologist]

Can I request “being TGP Michael’s soulmate would Include”? Tysm! :)

- 👻

being Michael Realman soulmate would include

Masterlist | Rules | Taglist | Library | More Michael | AO3

synopsis: At The Good Place, the real truly Good Place, Michael thought that his life was finally perfect. When he meet you he realized that it couldn't be perfect because he didn't knew you yet.

warnings: a important theme on the last season is how there is not a soulmate, but just someone that you choose to love. i like to do those soulmate!au and will not stay totally loyal to the canon if that its not funny to me. if it was about a human i could totally make a "you are soulmates because of Michael's evil torture plan", like i did to Eleanor, but not to a immortal character because it wouldnt make sense to me.

ps: I love writing for that fandom! Thanks for your request dear reader, hope you like it!

• Michael spend his whole life, what means way more than the average, resolving problems. The afterlife is boring to demons? Okay, he found a solution. Wait. Those humans seens to always reazlize they are in The Bad Place? Calm down, calm down, he got a solution. Humans can actually evolve into greater beings? Michael know what to do. The Good Place is actually The Boring Place? You know who will solve it, just give him some time

• And then... no more problems. At least not big ones. It was just what he expect from paradise. A place where he could finally breath in. He could finally live, instead of just trying to survive. Michael thought he had everyhing he wanted

• The gentle bell announced a new resident.

• Your life was... You were kind to others. You did horrible things. You were truthful. You lied. You loved with your body and soul. You hated with all your heart. You experienced so much fun. Your life was so boring. Your legacy was warm and gentle. Your legacy was cold and rough. After all you lived, you were just like the very next person: someone that wronged and did hurtful things, but someone who also did the right thing and was lovely towards others. You were constantly trying, and that was enough

• After some time, you passed to The Good Place. You were someone who deserved to be there. In the first week you didn't even sleep. It wasn't great: it was amazing! A candy had the asnwer to what Twin Peaks really was. Magic doors took you to whatever place you wanted. Julius Cesar was such a nice guy. Princess Diana was so kind, as everyone expect. Robin Williams was brilliant. You met your great-grandfather! And his great-grandfather! And then you heard about the group that made everything possible, those people that saved the entire human population from a eternity of suffering

• When you discovered that Chidi Anagonye had a reading group, you knew that it was your chance. He was such a sweet guy, so gentle and caring. Eleanor Shellstrop helped you with your journey through philosophy. Didn't take much for you two to became friends

• Eleanor invited you to a party organized by Tahani Al-Jamil. She looked like what every celebrity want to be. Someone who would win a Tony, a Oscar, a Bafta, a Grammy and a Nobel in the same year. There you met Jason. Jacksonville! His heart was something you couldn't understand. Jason was so smart, but in a emotional way that opened your eyes. And the humanity of his lovely wife intrigued you. Janet was... perfect. In a way that no human or robot could ever be. She was simply perfect

• You wanted to met Michael, the demon that made everything possible. You had learn that 'demon' was a bad term, it was just difficult to stop using. It looks like he was doing something with Judge Gen. Although you don't really get who she is, it appeared important

• The group finished reading Anna Karênina. On paradise, an eight hundred pages book is something that everyone had the time to read. You tried it once when you were alive, but you didn't make it to the first hundred pages. Now, you did it in one week

• Chidi guided the discussion about the mishaps and turmoil of those two families. Someone, probably Freud, talked about how the very last scene of Anna and the birth of Kitty's child was a Tolstoy's attempt of punishing the female leads that wronged someone during the book. Jane Austen wouldn't stop talking about how Vronsky was a dipshit lover if Tolstoy didn't agree with her

• When it was your turn to give your opinion, you didn't even heard the door opening. Your view of how the motifs, mainly the candle, and how it repeats itself in different ways for Ana and Vronsky were your focous. For him it was a bad memory, for her it was her destiny. Submerged in your line of reasoning, you only notice him because of Chidi's voice

"Want to be part of the conversation?" Chidi asked when you finished your sentence. "I saw you reading it once, would you like to contribute?"

You turned your head to the place Chidi was looking at. The gray-haired man in a matching suit, shrugged his shoulders with a excited little smile on his face. "Do you have space for me here?"

"We always have, Mikey-boy", Eleanor tapped the sit next to her. "My new friend was talking about the candle motif, what do you think about it?"

"The candle motif, we all seen it", Michael turned his body in Eleanor's direction and followed her gaze to the new resident. And when he locked eyes with you, Michael wasn't able to talk anymore. Either were you.

Michael felt a storm inside him. His heart was jumping on his chest. His lungs didn't work anymore. His voice was nothing but a weak memory. His muscles turned into soft jellys.

You burned. Your eyes didn't work anymore, almost like some kind of smoke appeared in front of them. Your toes were shaking but you didn't even notice. You dropped the book on the floor, but the sound was muted.

While Michael eyes shine on emerald, yours turned into a lilac light.

"I am sorry", meanwhile looking at you, Michael were talking to everyone else on the room. He walked your way and grab your hand. You stand up, unable to do anything but to stay with him. "But that stupid book can wait."

You followed Michael, using one of the magic doors to get to a better place. You didn't droop his hand, you only hold it harder.

"God think my book is stupid?" Tolstoy asked when the door closed, tears glowing on his eyes. "What did I do wrong?"

"For the last time," said Marilyn Monroe. "He is not a god."

• Michael wouldn't care if the world end up right now. Either would you.

GENERAL TAGLIST: @suakemi @notanalienindisguiseblink

THE GOOD PLACE TAGLIST: @suakemii @notanalienindisguiseblink

Feedback/reblogs would be greatly appreciated! Support your content creators! Likes are appreciated, but comments and reblogs are golden!  

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

[evrensadwrn]

Okay, so instead of a fem reader romantic headcanons with the marquis, can we just have a platonic head canons. Where the marquis and Chico are being foolish and the reader is another body guard fed up with him. Like Vincent will suggest the wildest shit and she’s just there like “omg wtf is wrong with you” but still goes along with it.

by far my funniest fucking request thank you

im glad its not just me knowing how much a dumbass loser the marquis is<3

implied chidi x vincent (gay hoes)

ʚ♡ɞ

❦ Working for the Marquis de Gramont as his bodyguard, how is it?

❦ Stressful

❦ Mainly because your boss is probably unhinged in some way shape or form

❦ ….or just stupid

❦ Things you know about your boss:

❦ He loves red wine, hates coffee without milk or sugar, loves art, and also probably needs to stop thinking

❦ You work with his bodyguard and his second-in-command, Chidi

❦ So now you realize you’re a third-wheel

❦ Depressing, really

❦ You sometimes wonder how Chidi deals with him

❦ “I don’t know what to wear”

❦ —Your boss says, standing in front of his wardrobe which looks more like a collection of fashion that is not open to the public

❦ “Sir, not to intrude, but you’re heading to a meeting?”

❦ You say back to him against Chidi’s wishes

❦ Vincent just rolls his eyes and shakes his head at you

❦ Sassy bitch.

❦ One thing you’ll note about Paris is that they do not know how to drive

❦ No wonder why they’re all pissed off

❦ Traffic sucks in this place

❦ But one would never catch the Marquis Vincent Bisset de Gramont on public transit

❦ God-forbid you suggest walking

❦ So you and Chidi are just stuck in a car with him rambling about art

❦ It’s not that you mind, you just want peace and quiet sometimes

❦ Unfortunately your boss doesn’t like shutting up

❦ Another thing about your boss Vincent, is that he’s a good marksman

❦ But is he gonna personally fight someone?

❦ Fuck no

❦ He’s gonna gesture for you to kill a guy

❦ And also, he has some high standards

❦ Which means he’s picky about things like the uniform of the Myrmidons

❦ You and Chidi get a suit like the rest of them, just that you guys have a slight change to your suits

❦ Because that means you guys have to sit through his bullshit

❦ “It would be quite nice if I-”

❦ You two quickly shut him up

❦ No, Vincent— you should not try and have bad blood with another representative

❦ No, Vincent— do not attempt to be near windows

❦ Especially the last time he almost got a bullet to the head….

❦ Unfortunately you still go to the Louvre against your own wishes

reblogs appreciated<33 fav req so far!!

[soulmatebracket]

Hi ! Could you post a list of who has been submitted so far ? (With the number of submissions for each if possible)

If that's too much work i completely understand and humbly request to know if more that one person (aka me) have submitted Obi-Wan and Anakin

[Disclaimer‼️ Just because a pairing has three or two votes does not mean that they are automatically going into the bracket. Pairings with 1 vote might also make it in if I like them enough. We will not be starting arguments over if they should or should not have made it in.]

Totalling at 235 submissions so far!

Will be in the bracket:

Usagi Tsukino & Mamoru Chiba, Sailor Moon, IIIII (prelims)

Sailor Senji, Sailor Moon, III (prelims)

Link & Zelda, The Legend of Zelda, IIIIIIIII (prelims)

Link & Zelda & Ganandorf, The Legend of Zelda, IIIII (prelims)

Link & Fi, The Legend of Zelda, I (prelims/bc i like this ones)

Inuyasha & Kagome Higurashi, Inuyasha, IIII

Aziraphale & Crowley, Good Omens, IIIIIII

That Guy and Their Cat, Real Life, IIIII

Homura & Madoka, Puella Magi Madoka Magica, IIII

Eleanor Shelstroph & Chidi Anagone, The Good Place, IIIIII

Kim Dokja and Yoo Joonghyuk, Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint, IIIII

Captain Kirk & Mister Spock, Star Trek, IIII

Naruto Uzumaki & Sasuke Uchiha, Naruto, IIII

Grian & Scar, The Life Series, IIIIII

Submission Box

Three Votes:

Breekon & Hope, The Magnus Archives

The Doctor & The Master, Doctor Who

Xie Lian & Hua Cheng, Heavens Official’s Blessing

Hawkman & Hawkwoman, DC Comics

Doctor Doofenshmirtz & Perry the Platypus

Meliodas & Elizabeth, Seven Deadly Sins

Ash & Pikachu, Pokemon Anime

Two Votes:

Sakura & Syaoran, Cardcaptor Sakura

Wei Wuxain & Lan Wangji, Mo Dao Su Shi, II

Utena & Anthy, Revolutionary Girl Utena

Judai Yuki & Yubel, Yugioh X

FitzChivalry Farseer & Beloved/the Fool, Realm of the Elderlings

Yusuf “Joe” Al Kaysani & Nicolo “Nicky” Di Genova, The Old Guard

Finn the Human & Jake the Dog, Adventure Time

Sakura & Syaoran Li, Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicles

Eiji Hino & Ankh, Kamen Rider OOO

Gon Freecss & Killua Zoldyck, Hunter x Hunter

The Entire Cast of Phineas and Ferb, Phineas and Ferb

Harrowhark Nonagesimus & Gideon Nav, The Locked Tomb

Daniel & Luce. Fallen

Gilgamesh & Enkidu, The Epic of Gilgamesh

Kaidan Alenko & Commander Shepard, Mass Effect

Raleigh Becket & Mako Mori, Pacific Rim

Adrien Agreste & Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Miraculous Ladybug

Bebop & Rocksteady, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

Katarina Claes & Sophia Ascart, My Next Life as a Villainess

One Vote:

Mieczyslaw Stilinki & Lydia Martin, Teen Wolf

Spiderman & Deadpool, Marvel Comics

Beavis & Butthead, Beavis and Butthead

Obanai Iguro & Mitsuri Kanroji, Demon Slayer

Emma/Melinda & Dimitri/Edred, Unicorn: Warriors Eternal

Dean & Pharm, Until We Meet Again

Kaiou Michiru & Tenou Haruka, Sailor Moon

Zunzite & Zoisite, Sailor Moon

Phoenix Wright & Miles Edgeworth, Ace Attorney

Witch of Delays & Cure Oasis, Tropical Rouge Pecure

John Doe & Arthur Lester, Malevolent

Hani & Hinino Yamato, Hiraeth: The End of the Journey

Dream /Morpheus & Hob Gadling, The Sandman

Adachi & Shimamura, Adachi and Shimamura

Edward Nygma & Oswald Cobblepot, Gotham (2014)

Zelda & Ganondorf, The Legend of Zelda

Reginald Copperbottom & Right Hand Man, The Henry Stickmin Collection

Henry Stickmin & Ellie Rose, The Henry Stickmin Collection

Jonny D’Ville & Gunpowder Tim, Mechanisms

Merlin & Arthur, Merlin

Vash & Knives, Trigun

Siren & Kappa, Castle Swimmers

Ruby & Sapphire, Steven Universe

Om Kapoor & Shanti Priya, Om Shanti Om

Solane & Sym, I Was Teenage Exocolonist

Will Herondale & Tessa Gray & Jem Carstairs, The Shadowhunter Chronicles

Agent 3 & Agent 8, Splatoon 2

James Sunderland & Maria, Silent Hill 2

Macaque & Sun Wukong, Lego Monkey Kid

Tang Sanzang (reincarnated as Tang), Shah Wujing (reincarnated as Sandy), Zhu Bajie (reincarnated as Pigsy), Ao Lie (ancestor of Mei), and Sun Wukong (ancestor of MK), Lego Monkey Kid, Journey To The West

Nadja & Gregor, What We Do In The Shadows

Catherine Foster & The Ghost, Archivist Wasp

Kaworu Nagisa and Shinji Ikari, Neon Genesis Evangelion

Kiryu Kazuma & Majima Goro, Yakuza / Ryu Ga Gotoku

Red & Blue, This is How You Lose the Time War

Church & Tex, Red vs Blue

Rand al'Thor and Ishamael/Moridin, Wheel of Time

Birgitte Silverbow and Gaidal Cain, Wheel of Time

Beryl and Sapphire, Beryl and Sapphire

Kiana Kaslana & Raiden Mei, Honkai Impact 3rd

Banjo & Sento, Kamen Rider Build

Orpheus & Eurydice, Greek Mythology

Odysseus & Penelope, Greek Mythology

Emet Selch & Hythlodaeus & Azem, Final Fantasy XIV

Yona & the Four Dragons (Ki-ja, Shin-ah, Jae-ha and Zeno), Akatsuki no Yona

Akane Kurashiki & Junpei, Zero Escape

Ryo Asuka & Akira Fudo, Devilman

Zagreus & Megaera & Thanatos, Hades

Megatron & Optimus Prime, Transformers

Emma Swall & Killian Jones, Once Upon A Time

Rumplestiltskin & Belle, Once Upon A Time, I Snow White & Prince Charming, Once Upon A Time

Percy Jackson & Annabeth Chase, Percy Jackson

Buttercup & Westley, The Princess Bride

Orchid & the Moon Supreme, Love Between Fairy and Devil

Blake Belladonna & Yang Xiao Long, RWBY

Ozma & Reincarnations, RWBY

Raava/The Avatar Spirit & Wan/The Avatar, Avatar: The Last Airbender

Johnny Silverhand & Vee, Cyberpunk 2077

Newt & The Brain/Alice, Pacific Rim

Dr. Strange & Dr. Christine Palmer, Marvel Comics

Bill & Ted, Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure

Lucifer & God, Abrahamic Religions

David and Jonathan, The Bible

Mickey Mouse & Minnie Mouse, Disney

Cinderella & Prince Charming, Disney

Dean WInchester & Castiel, Supernatural

Essek Theylss & Caleb Widogast, Critical Role

Lup Taako & Barold "Barry" Bluejeans, The Adventure Zone

Taako & Magnus Burnsides & Merle Highchurch, The Adventure Zone

Steve Rogers & James “Bucky” Barnes, Captain America Films

Mane 6, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic

Raven & Lloyd Allen, Shaperaverse

Nijigasaki High School Idol Club, Love Live Nijigasaki High School Idol Club

Shinichi Kudo & Ran Mouri, Detective Conan

Kusuriuri & Kayo/Chiyo Nomoto, Mononoke

Shun Shimotsuki & Hajime Mutsuki, Tsukiuta

Nanami Momozono & Tomoe, Kamisama Kiss

Red & The Boxer, Transistor

Yvaine & Tristan, Stardust

Jayfeather & Half Moon, Warrior Cats

Time & Fate, The Starless Sea

Sappo, Fragment 147

Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Star Wars

Ichabod Crane & Abbie Mills, Sleepy Hollow

Aragon & Arewn, The Lord of the Rings

Will Turner & Elizabeth Swan, Pirates of the Caribbean

Tom & Jerry, Tom & Jerry

Bugs Bunny & Daffy Duck, Looney Toons

Batman & The Joker, DC Comics

Akira Kurusu/Joker & Akechi Goro, Persona 5

Mytho & Ahiru, Princess Tutu

Dazai Osamu & Chuuya Nakahara, Bungo Stray Dogs

Koh & Canalo, Ryusoulger

Gai & Juggler, Ultraman Orb

Sonoi & Momou, Donbrothers

Haruka & Saruhara, Donbrothers

The Scooby Doo Gang, Scooby Doo

[writefulclown]

asmo with an s/o who is way too much like him

asmo x gn reader (2nd person pov) established relationship; no nsfw, just cute headcanons this isn't about appearance or talking/acting the exact same way, but rather like... being on the exact same brainwave i just,, directly translated a phrase from my mother tongue, sorry

first off, this only works if you like genuinely love yourself to the point where you're concerned you might unironically be attracted to yourself. like you'd date your clone.

cause this is it.

asmo most definitely would. he has reached that point and probably gone past it

which is why this relationship was inevitable

good god.

everyone around you two better hold on to their pipe and glasses.

you're a couple of menaces right from the moment you first meet

he's immediately drawn to you in a way that he can only describe as "really weird"

everyone, including the two of you, find it crazy how your brains operate in exactly the same way, no matter how different you are on the outside

definitely too much of... having each other's backs and supporting each other.

he'll chew someone out and you'll be gasping dramatically to drive the proverbial knife even deeper

you're oddly in sync and can read each other like open books

it creeps everyone else out and they'll think there's magic or something involved. they get used to it eventually, but the doubt is eternal

you're very much the couple that will never ever be seen apart, especially with how clingy both of you are

you also have a dynamic where others can ask you about him (and vice versa) and you'll know the exact answer with 100% accuracy every single time. "where is he?" he went out to get presents. he should be back in about 10 minutes. and exactly 10 minutes later he'll step through the door. "why has asmo been ignoring us today?" someone threw out his face cream and a group of you were too loud last night so he couldn't fall asleep. until the culprits confess and give him a heartfelt apology, his highness will be ignoring everyone in this house. and all the while he'll be pouting behind your back, arms crossed, nodding along

if bodies ever get swapped (cause apparently that's a frequent occurrence) you'll be the absolute first to know where asmo is. it is absolutely impossible to fool you

you just get him. and he gets you

he knows exactly how to comfort you in every single situation and he knows how to show his love

he knows exactly what you need, what you want, what's pissing you off, when you need an exit from a place or situation, why you're sad, everything about you is so apparent to him

and it goes both ways. he's blown away every single time.

it's like the scene in the good place where eleanor gives chidi a tissue cause she knew he was gonna sneeze before he did, but every day, every interaction is like that.

he'll very quickly catch on to your sense of fashion as well. he understands it better than you do, even if it's the exact opposite of him. he needs to know because he needs to spoil you.

but it's deeper.

it feels like the more he finds out about you the more he realizes about himself

he feels really compelled to dig around in your mind. he wants to know the reason behind every single one of your thoughts and actions, but, unfortunately, that just reveals more of how insanely similar you two are

anything about you that makes him feel sad, like feeling like your worth is based entirely on how much people desire you, just boomerangs back into him

you're like a mirror that exposes parts of him that are so vulnerable that he feels... terrified.

because it's so scary to him, he feels the need to withdraw from you. just to stop himself from breaking down. he's asmodeus. he's flawless, everyone loves him, every single part of him is so perfect that he doesn't seem real. he's spent so long building this façade, he can't let it crumble.

but how can he not be around you? you just... get him. and he loves how safe he feels around you. he can get rid of all his walls and you'll still love him. you know the worst parts of him because you have the exact same baggage.

he lets his guard down incredibly fast because he's not stupid enough to waste precious time hiding away when he could be spending it with someone who is absolutely perfect for him in every single way.

you know things about him that even he doesn't. he's never had this level of connection with anyone and you bet your ass this man is glued to you for the rest of your life. it's a good thing you're just as clingy as him.