━━━━━ yandere!emperor x 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞!butler!reader
↳ ❝ GIVE ME ALL YOUR LOYALTY. ❞
|| Your first mistake was pledging loyalty to a bloodthirsty Emperor. Your second mistake was allowing him to indulge you in his twisted affections.
OR | In which you...
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a/n; this chapter doesn't have a lot of convo but there is a lore drop (somewhat) so keep your eyes open! as usual don't forget to vote on the chapter and comments r always appreciated as they motivate me to update! side note updates will now come like once every four-six days
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The day you left, Silas felt a thin string within him break.
He had asked you before if you thought he was evil. If you thought there was evil swarming beneath his skin, tainting his soul and heart.
You had said no, with an extremely sincere expression on your face. It was then, Silas realized, that you simply couldn't see the bad in him. And so, he had led himself to think that yes, perhaps you were right: perhaps he wasn't evil. There was the topic of nature versus nurture, after all. Perhaps it hadn't been in his nature to be so murderous; so possessive; so angry at the world — perhaps his behaviour had simply been caused by the environment Silas had grown up in.
There was a brief period of time where Silas committed no misdeeds. There had been no murders, no deaths, no crimes. With you by his side, Silas simply saw no need in doing those actions. The assassinations had ceased, and Silas no longer bothered about them either.
Back then, he killed to feel alive, somewhat. When he was six, Silas found that childhood stories and little toys didn't entertain him. After being thrust into a world filled with endless bloodshed, Silas had felt considerably empty.
Life was fickle. It could be torn away from him so easily — so really, wasn't it much better to end it all? Silas had a flair for killing — and that realization bitterly sobered him. Was it a blessing to be gifted with the skill of murder?
Silas had thoughts of simply stabbing himself and bleeding out the day an assassin came to him with yet another attempt to kill him. He had felt the blood splatter on his cheek, unforgiving and heavy, and he had smudged it with the back of his hand, eyes forever dull. His world was the same blend of colors swirling together. There was gray, that constantly permeated his surroundings and drenched in the hues of a monotone and dismal setting, and there was red.
Never ending red, pouring from his own wounds, and pouring from the people who he killed.
You appeared to him one day with a concerned expression that Silas had not seen for a very long time. Maids and servants had once attempted to grow close to him, as they felt pity or sorrow for him, but they would quickly retreat after Silas tried to open up to them.
You had stared at him with a shocked expression on your face. Silas was astounded and almost relieved to see another child.
"Friend," Silas remembered saying, his voice raspy and choked, "will you be my friend?"
