My Sister's Lunatic Fiancé Is Trying To Seduce Me! || Yandere Male X Reader/Oc

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NOTE: I maybe shouldn't write this considering it could be pointless and it makes the chapter look messy, but I thought of how some hasty people can easily jump to conclusions at the first word, so I decided to say it. The reader's sister doesn't resemble her because she is her half-sister, born to the second wife. The half-sister resembles her own mother. So, please remember that Y/N's skin tone will be UP TO THE READER and that Y/N inherited her mother's unmentioned skin tone, A.K.A the reader's CHOICE! On the other hand, the father will have birch skin tone.

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In this discrepant world, an unbendable hierarchy was adamantly established, never could anyone manage to obliterate it. The power structure embodied a necessary cog appertaining to the ruthless human society as it symbolized order and peace, regardless of what some unenlightened people may insist. For without the cog, a turbulent jungle would come to life, wherein constitutional human savagery dominated and sanity deemed a hollow term because there'd be no one rational to define it anymore.

Accordingly, society required the authority's unyielding rigidity. Even if the said command were to become a corrupt tangle of venomous spiders, it'd still be a tranquil pattern compared to the tragedy that'd eventuate should law—a framework entrenched to delimit morals for the nonsensical humans, a framework entrenched to restrain their ingrained animalistic cruelty—disappear.

Hence, hierarchy. An unequivocal configuration comprised of rigor and intimidation. Hierarchy helped lay out the principles, conceding supremacy to names, measuring an invisible concord. To put it in a greater detail, there were three classes of human beings on the never-ending social ladder.

No in-between as absolute 'blood purity' defied everything else.

Commoners; the individuals far down the uncompromising ladder, hopeless to climb a single step, and should a fool struggle they'd find themselves meeting a fairly sorry end. The individuals whom supposedly hailed from the Deities' servants.

Nobles; the individuals born into money, flaunting an admissible prosperous ancestry, their brittle pride relying severely on their elite connections and unproductive superiority over the lone existence below them. The individuals whom supposedly hailed from the Deities' favored heroes.

Pure Nobles; the individuals monopolizing the very apex of the unshakable hierarchy. Their unimaginable influence was barely balanced by their fewer numbers. Numerous Kings had hailed, still hail, from their lineages. The individuals whom supposedly were born through the Deities' sheer powers.

These concrete three ranks clarified reality for what it was to anyone with the energy to think or care. An ungovernable gamble paralleling fate, the strength of the cards dealt during one's birth depending on mere possibilities—possibilities selected by fate itself—fate who was similarly explained by mortals' themselves, their presumptuous thoughts generating limits and sins equally, readily supplying significance to definitions and arrogance, determining positions that'd control them, divide them, hindering growth, leading to a cycle of transgression and hatred. Afterwards, these same mortals would willingly choose to permit history shape everything they'd described as 'common sense' into a society monitored by 'unpredictable fate'.

Which was not to say there wasn't a time where such magnificent titles never existed. In fact, that mythical period did exist, ages ago— No Nobles, Pures, or Commoners. Simply human rapacity and fury: back then, today's alleged Deities' servants could easily ascend the social ladder if they proved themselves wise.

However, it was so long ago the recognition of its occurrence amounted to nothing. The past counted as important when it benefited the winner's pride, ultimately—