The Lament Of An Iniquitous Guardian Father || Lout Of the Count's Family
  • Reads 7,163
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  • Parts 4
  • Time 1h 6m
  • Reads 7,163
  • Votes 418
  • Parts 4
  • Time 1h 6m
Complete, First published Sep 25, 2022
[COMPLETED] 

Everything around him was blurry. His body aching painfully despite the common fact that his ancient power should've healed his wounds by now. 

Cale couldn't even utter a low whine when he felt his wrist burn at the painful friction of the rope that was tying him. 

"Cale."

The redhead looked at the source of the voice, a blurry shade of red moving in front of him. 

There was then a lamp that was settled beside him, Cale blinks to see the White Star fully in front of him and his guard raised at the maximum in case on what he plans on doing. 

"Eat."

There was then a piece of meat that met against Cale's bleeding lips. The disgusting stench of blood penetrating his nose as he weakly glared at the man. 

White Star smirked, "Go on, eat. You'll get stronger."

Cale's eyes blown wide when he saw the meat that the White Star was trying to feed him. It looks like a charred one that was burnt from cooking, if you ignore how blood still seeps from one of the tendons. 

"....!"

The White Star then forced his mouth open, easily clenching Cale's jaw as he stuffed the black meat inside his mouth. 

Tears pooled at the side of Cale's reddish-brown eyes as he tried to spit out the meat. 

He can't, for the love of God, he just can't. 

"Listen to my pleads, my dear child. Eat."

'No...'

"Raon..."

✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶

This is a canon divergence.

Please note that this work have trigger warnings such as blood, gore, slavery and manipulation.

The main tag would be Dead Dove Do Not Eat.
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[ᴛᴄғ] ᴏɴᴄᴇ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ

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𝗗𝗜𝗦𝗖𝗟𝗔𝗜𝗠𝗘𝗥: 𝗧𝗖𝗙 𝗗𝗢𝗘𝗦𝗡'𝗧 𝗕𝗘𝗟𝗢𝗡𝗚 𝗧𝗢 𝗠𝗘 𝗧𝗥𝗜𝗚𝗚𝗘𝗥 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗗𝗼𝗻'𝘁 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗗𝗼𝗻'𝘁 𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱 . Cale barely flinched as the broken glass cut through his palm. He blinked, his red-brown orbs watched blood that start to gushing out. The wounds, however, sting 𝒐𝒉 so pleasantly. 𝑰𝒕 𝒇𝒆𝒍𝒕 𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉e𝒓𝒂𝒑𝒆𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒇𝒖𝒍 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒑𝒂𝒍𝒎 𝒄𝒖𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕. With every drop of blood, the floor and bed sheets are mostly drenched red. Ignoring the wetness on his palm, Cale walked toward the door. His bleeding hand grabbed at the door handle. He gave a bored glance at his room one last time, and he left. .