The Monsters in us all ( Dark!/Yandere! Hetalia x Reader )

Dark Luxemburg x Reader II /Illusion/

A/N: I'm back. No excuses, no promises for faster updates. Updates just come when they come at this point. TW: murder (non-graphic). Sequel to Golden Cage.

The bitter taste of riches had long started to lay heavy on your tongue. Having quickly become disillusioned of the heavy-handed opulence with which you were made to surround yourself with, you have had enough.

In the beginning, it had been a novelty, a relief to taste the fruits of luxury after having spent your whole life until then in squalor, a paradise after having to endure so many hardships. Now you had grown tired and sick of this glittering world, of all the cascading gold and silk, of the glittering masks people paraded around with. Loathed them all the more because you had been coerced into wearing one as well, when he allowed you to mingle with others. And even when you were just with him.

You know now that all those coy smiles and sweet words are lies half of the time and carry a deeper, more sombre meaning when they aren't falsehoods. The so-called nobility are just human beings hat have lost their humility, often having lost touch to reality. With nobody willing to point out their flaws their egos have become inflated, their cruelty has grown. Webs of intrigue and poisonous amotions lurk beneath the sparkling surface.

Once, you thought that immense wealth is liberating and that it grants the boon of liquidating any and all inhibitions. A false assumption – to only created new ones you have to adhere to. These boundaries were invisible, and they trip you when you expect it the least. They have a strangle hold on you, amplified by the controlling behaviour of such a "loving" spouse. He has plunged his fingers in every aspect of your life, eager to pull the stings, doing everything in his power to mould you into his version of the perfect person.

During the whole process – the etiquette lessons, the lectures at the dining table – he was always so suffocating in the manner he would warmly smile when he flung verbal barbs your way, or when he laughed at you in mockery of your ideas of morality.

Whenever another aristocrat subtly sneered that your low birth and your lack of pedigree should be reason enough to exclude you from the illustrious circle you were now apart of, Nicholas grew upset, jibbing at you that they only said such cruel things because you couldn't shake of the grim and bad habits of your formative years in poverty.

Whatever you did, he would something worthy of critique, some other way he could restrict you. Ever controlling, he only offered affection in exchange for what he deemed as good behaviour. And as a means to lure you back to him when he was close to losing you. Now it was too late; he had gone too far and now he couldn't woo you back into his arms anymore.

Quietly, you hurry through the garden. It is night and a half-moon hangs in a star-filled sky, with only the occasional cloud covering it. The celestial body provides just enough light for you to find your way about. Good, for you haven't dared to bring a lit lantern with you, for the fear of being discovered.

He already dislikes it when you went out in the garden without his permission. In general, he is prone to becoming crabby when you do anything without his blessing. You don't want to imagine what he would do, should be find out about your current actions and capture you.

So much hinges on this hot-shot plan, therefore you can't afford to make any mistakes.

You are huffing and panting when you finally reach the north wall of the extensive grounds, exhausted partially because the property is huge, partially because you have grown soft from the lack of exercise and the decadence of a luxurious lifestyle.

Softly cursing, you bury your manicured finger in the crevices between the bricks where the mortar was old and crumbles easily, loose as it is. Was considerable effort, you heave yourself upward, just managing to find cracks with the tips of your shoes and desperately claw every available space. When you finally reach the top, it feels like your muscles have been pumped full of molten lead and your fingertips are numb from the ascent. Panting and forcing yourself to become quiet even as your lungs scream for more air, you expectantly look over the edge.