AU One-Shots.

''Nothing matters, only us.'' Gothic Stepsiblings au part 1.

Our father was dead. Our horrible father was dead. And yet, I knew Christine would never recover from the terrible events. Because she never had. You see, we had never left our mansion after that terrible night. Because my Christine had killed our father herself, to save me. She had taken a pistol and shot the monster in the head, and then freed me from the rope, holding me to her heart. I hadn't realized at the moment that Christine's mind had snapped, and she had gone as mad as the man she'd killed.

When little Meg, Christine's ladies' maid, had found us, and embraced Christine in relief, she had looked at me, and I'd seen tears in her eyes, as she had realized herself what happened. Christine had refused to leave after that. She'd begged me, she had. Begged to marry me here, asked that we never go outside, and I'd agreed, if it would make her happy. So Meg and her mother Madame Giry had been the only witnesses to the marriage, and I'd asked if they would visit from time to time. Christine smiled, and said, ''What a wonderful idea.''

Then came the wedding night. The night I realized the sweet, gentle girl that I had loved would never come back, that she was gone forever. It started with a kiss, one, then two, then three. It was normal enough. Then, when I pulled away, Christine took a knife and handed it to me, asking me to cut the dress open. For a moment, there was a look in her eyes, one that told me to ruin the dress the monster had made for her to wear, but that look was quickly gone.

So I took the knife, and moving to the back of my beloved, slit the laces and slipped the dress off her shoulders, and Christine quickly turned and kissed me again, throwing her arms about my neck much as she had on the rooftop, hard enough to topple me to the floor. Her hands were small and dainty, but they were fast, and soon had my shirt unbuttoned, and I wrapped my arms about her waist. We kissed passionately for a few moments, then I pulled away, gasping.

''Are you alright?''

''I'm fine, Christine. Could you stand up, please? I must get your corset off. If I rip it off, I shall hurt you.'' I told her, and she acquiesced to my request, standing up, I quickly unlaced her tight corset, and she took in a long, deep breath.

''At least he will no longer harm us anymore.'' was all she said, before her hands went to my trousers and began unbuttoning them. But I seem to be getting ahead of myself. Such is the nature of a man on his wedding night with the girl he loves. I will, of course, start from the beginning. For it is at the beginning that the story must be told. We will both tell it, my Christine and I. Ladies first, dear.

XxX

My name is Christine. Christine Destler. I was born on October 13, 1854. It is now October 16, 1873, and I have just turned 18. My father, Erik Destler, was a very reclusive man. I suppose you could call him a hermit. My Mama was Theodorine Destler, nee Hemlock. She died when I was merely 5 years old. I barely knew her, of course. One cannot know one's own mother if she dies when you are just five years old. I knew my father very well, of course. Far too well. He was always wandering around my room, why at first I did not know, but later, I did.

I was not more then 10 years old when I was told by my governess, Madame Marceline Giry, who had come from France several years ago that my father was to remarry. I was terribly confused at first. Why should my father, Papa, as I called him at the time, need to marry again? He had me, and I was all that he needed.

Yet, Madame Giry explained to me that I could not be Papa's heir, and Papa would want me to be married off. Papa needed a male heir, which I found incredibly humiliating, as I had been told by my Mama that I would be a heiress, beautiful, elegant, and graceful, with a voice like an angel. Papa had made my voice so. He taught me himself, you see. And so my voice was more beautiful, and rich, and angelic then any other tutor could make it.