𝔉ɪʀᴇ 𝔈ᴍʙʟᴇᴍ: 𝔄ᴢᴜʀᴇ 𝔐ᴏᴏɴ | ᴀɴ ᴇᴍᴘʀᴇss ғᴀʟʟs ( sᴘᴀʀᴋ x ᴄʜᴇᴠᴀʟɪᴇʀ )

[Chevalier]

◤                                         ◥


ᴜʜ-ᴏʜ, ʟᴏᴠɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ɪs ᴅᴀɴɢᴇʀᴏᴜs | ʟᴇᴀᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ғɪʀᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ

◣          ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ᴅᴀʀᴋ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇs ᴀʜᴇᴀᴅ           ◢

sᴘᴀʀᴋ             ᴄʜᴇᴠᴀʟɪᴇʀ

ᴛʜᴇ ᴀᴅʀᴇsᴛɪᴀɴ ᴇᴍᴘɪʀᴇ ʜᴀᴅ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴅᴇғᴇᴀᴛᴇᴅ...
ᴘᴇᴀᴄᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ғɪɴᴀʟʟʏ ʀᴇᴛᴜʀɴ ᴛᴏ ғᴏ́ᴅʟᴀɴ...
ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴇᴛ, ᴠɪᴄᴛᴏʀʏ ғᴇʟᴛ sᴏ ᴇᴍᴘᴛʏ.
​

The once proud city of Enbarr was left ravaged and desolate, its once ostentatious, marble walls painted in a fresh, grotesque shade of crimson. Perhaps it was a fitting end for the Empire: to have its halls completely adorned in the maiden color of House Hresvelg... yet, victory did not fulfill the Lion that prowled the halls of Enbarr's throne room. Victory failed to comfort him... nor did it bring even a bittersweet sensation to his pain-riddled thoughts. The defeat of the Empire felt only hollow, like a dried riverbed that once breamed with life. As Dimitri stood in the presence of his childhood friend, he could only feel the lamentations of the dead, the everlasting carnage of war and and most of all - betrayal. But justice waited patiently, waiting for Dimitri to strike the final blow. Raising his lance, Areadbhar, death's stroke was suddenly paused by a moment of weakness.

Kneeling before him, he watched the Flame Emperor shift, those familiar, luminescent eyes gazing up towards him. They were soft and comforting - their vibrant iridescence like a kaleidoscope that gently peered back into his childhood, when life was more simple and innocent. Edelgard von Hresvelg. It was a name that pervaded his every thought, like a shadow lingering behind every corner. But it had once been a name that made his heart skip, a name that... perhaps in another world, may have made for a loving Queen. It was then that the Lion had made his gravest mistake, a transient thought that perhaps, she could be saved. That life could return to normal. That Edelgard could still be his.

The Lion extended his hand, an open palm which offered a final opportunity for salvation to the Empress. His lips curved upwards, gracing his portrait with a solemn smile, as if beckoning his formerly betrothed to accept his hand once again. She had been defeated, but surely that did not mean that she had to die? Hadn't enough blood already been senselessly spilled?

"El ..." Her once Prince Charming called out to her, invoking her childhood namesake in an attempt to remind her of their once mutual affections. Maybe she would take his hand... maybe they could start over-

The Empress' alluring lips drew into a crooked, wavering smile. It was at that moment the illusion of happiness had been dispelled completely. The Edelgard that Dimitri had once loved was dead... and even before she drew the blade from her hip, his remaining eye began tremoring in sadness. The dagger that he had given her in his youth was bared; the Eagle's final attempt to strike the Lion with her talon. The blade fell upon him with malevolent intent, the final, lingering betrayal that sought to end Dimitri's life thrusting through the air and biting his neck. He refused to step away from the Empress, instead intercepting her wrist into his overwhelming grip, tightening until she would have no choice but to release the knife from her hand.

As the knife clattered beneath them, a faint trickle of blood cascaded down the flank of Dimitri's neck. The wound was far from fatal and yet, it was clear that whatever remained of Dimitri had been slain. A moment of silence endured, the tension of Edelgard's mortal blow festering within the King. Suddenly, he drew his hand back, opening his palm before swinging it across Edelgard's portrait in a resounding smack which echoed throughout the room. The perfect tone in her cheeks was instantly marred with red, delivering enough force to send her gaze reeling away from him. Before she could collect herself, a thick, coarse hand reached underneath her chin, capturing her neck and claiming the dainty appendage into his authoritative grip. His digits began to press down tightly against her walls, allowing the slow realization of asphyxiation to find her seductive gaze as he pressed out the air from her lungs.

"Professor." Dimitri didn't even look back, his glare still falling upon the victim writhing in his grip, "Leave."

Although a worried look took her face, Byleth knew better than to get involved in the matter any further. She said nothing as she turned around, heels clattering as she strode away from the throne room. It wasn't until the croaking sound of the door slamming shut that Dimitri would tighten his stranglehold on the Empress' neck even further. His masculine grip constricted slowly, encroaching on that dainty, vulnerable windpipe until the Lion could hear the Eagle's throat desperately crackle and her body began to convulse under his formidable grip. But he wouldn't let her go. Instead he would wait. Watching and watching, until her saliva began to froth between her lips and those pretty gemstones began to lull upwards towards their lids... and in the moments just before she would fall into unconsciousness: he would finally release her.

But freedom wouldn't last for long.

Reaching down, he grabbed his new prisoner by one of the crescent shaped horns that flanked her head, tugging roughly upon it until she had no choice but to follow his hand upwards and onto her feet. As soon as she was on her heels, he turned her around, pulling her back into his chest as his commanding hands instantly began groping and grabbing at the velvet fabric covering her breasts. Years of war had only strengthened Dimitri, and with but a single pull, the sound of tearing fabric took the throne room, the top of her crimson dress torn asunder. Golden buttons popped from her chest, pattering against the floor as her cleavage was bared. But Edelgard's degradation was far from complete, his hands quickly delivering the same fate to her brassiere, tearing it free from her chest and sending the tattered undergarment to the ground. Her well-endowed chest was now on full, humiliating display.

"You belong to me now." A deep, primal growl escaped the Lion's lips, his hot breath singeing the Empress' ear. "These... belong to me now." As he spoke, his coarse, powerful hands groped at the exposed mounds of flesh that had been fully exposed. Pancaked between his manly digits, he grabbed them in an objectifying manner, hands tightening until he would be able to feel her body writhing in pain. Only then would he release, fingers roaming so that they could deliver a similar squeeze to her nipples. "Do you understand, whore?" As the whispered insult left his lips, the King bared his teeth, gently biting down on the the lobe of her ear...

Her fall had just begun.

​

 

[Spark]

​

It looks as though my path... will end here...

Even as the empress awaited the consequence of her defeat, settled upon her knees before the conqueror of the Adrestian Empire, Edelgard von Hresvelg regretted nothing. There was a deep satisfaction in what she had accomplished, an unyielding righteousness that made her life – and her death – mean something. She would gracefully accept her fate. Silently and fearlessly, the woman’s pride remained intact, despite the fact that she was crumpled on the ground before the dais of her own throne. The light of the sun spilled in to the throne room at her back, filtering in the high windows and pouring in around a pair of tall marble columns. After several long moments, Edelgard’s lilac eyes slowly opened, her sight falling upon her own shadow.

She had expected a quick death, but her justice was not dispensed swiftly. Curious as to the delay – the empress convinced that each breath should be her last – Edelgard’s sight eventually cast upwards. She focused upon Dimitri, his towering armored form bathed in the golden rays of the sun. He watched her in return, his expression painfully stoic. The empress’s gaze briefly marveled at the bright cerulean blue of the king’s eye, attempting to glean any trace of emotion, with very little success. And then: Dimitri offered an outreached hand. Her sight trailed to the curve of his lips, soaking in the melancholic smile to be found there.

“El…”

I wanted... to walk with you.

It had been impossible, she knew. For all the love she’d once held for the Prince of Faerghus, her ambitions had made them wholly incompatible. Social reform would not have come from diplomacy. The grip of the Church of Seiros over Fódlan would have never been released, nor their lies dispelled, by anything less than fire and blood. Edelgard had devoted herself to change; and while Dimitri and others disapproved of the means to her ends, they were naïve – at best – to think there was any other option.

Her own moment of weakness lasted only a heartbeat. If only she could take Dimitri’s hand… If only she could believe that they could somehow heal the wounds between them. If only.

…But they didn’t live in a fairytale. Dimitri, allied with the church, would undoubtedly undo her life’s work. The prospect enraged her. …The two of them would never – could never – find peace in the other’s company. There was only one way for this to end.

Edelgard reached for her dagger: the very dagger Dimitri had given her as a parting gift in their youth. Without a moment of hesitation, she lunged at the man she had once loved, aiming to bury the blade deep into the side of his neck. He was unyielding, catching her wrist just as the steel of her weapon tasted his flesh. The empress growled with frustration as Dimitri’s grip of her tightened, and continued to press desperately forward as if she could overcome his greater strength by sheer will alone. Unfortunately, the advance of her blade had been halted completely; she had managed to draw blood but she had been far from inflicting a fatal blow. Her adversary continued to increase the pressure he applied to her wrist. In the end, Edelgard’s hand unwillingly wilted open, the dagger clattering at their feet.

She had expected him to crush the bones of her wrist, as she well knew he possessed the strength to do so. When he released her, the twist of her angry expression softened, just in time for her to reap the reward of her actions. A startled, quiet cry escaped her lips as King Dimitri delivered a hard smack to her face. The blow forced her head to turn over her shoulder, the intensity of the hit great enough to even cause her to twist slightly at the waist in recoil. The initial pain stung and the aftershock was searing. The empress’s eyes narrowed as she started to straighten her position, prepared to retaliate –

But before she could act, or even speak, the lion’s strong hand closed around her throat.

Her eyes widened, then. Edelgard’s hands impulsively came upon Dimitri’s grip, her fingers curling around the bend of his hand. She didn’t attempt to pry herself from his grasp, as no doubt she should. She knew, however, that this would be the end. Struggling helplessly would likely only serve to give the man further satisfaction; a sentiment she could hardly hold against him, given their history, but an indulgence she didn’t intend to give him, nevertheless. She stared at his face as he held her in his death grip, his hand ever tightening and encroaching upon her windpipe.

Her ears filled with the panicked escalation of her own heartbeat, and yet she faintly heard the King of Faerghus as he dismissed Byleth, most of all aware of the coldness to be found in his voice. There would be no argument from his former professor, Edelgard knew: all for the better, so far as she was concerned, as she did not desire any further audience to her demise. As the other woman left them, Dimitri seemed content to snuff out his enemy, his grip collapsing upon her throat.

Soon it will all be over, the woman comforted herself. Even as she unintentionally fought to draw a breath and her hands desperately obeyed her body's will to live rather than accepting the futility of her mind, her fingers grasping and pulling at the man's hold as if she might be able to pry him from her throat, the empress continued to assure herself thusly. Defiantly, she continued to stare at her killer; though the entirety of her face flushed to match the bright red mark his slap had left upon her cheek, and she knew her countenance would be nothing more than pitiful in that moment. Sounds emitted from her throat, sharp stabs of nonsensical noise intermixed with terrible suppressed gurgles. Her body writhed in opposition of her fate, eventually giving way to convulsions. Her vision blurred and she could feel herself slipping away to that sweet release...

But Dimitri was cruel. Rather than allow her to die, she found her release to be more tangible than what she had expected. Edelgard buckled to the ground as the king ceased to hold her throat. Violent coughs competed with gasping breaths, the woman’s eyes squeezing shut to expel the involuntary tears that had welled within her eyes in the moment directly proceeding what she was sure to be the moment of her death. She used her sleeve to wipe the foam from her lips, the few moments of recovery afforded to her just enough for the woman to begin to regain her sight. Pulsing blotches of light and dark spheres obscured her vision, and yet she was able find focus upon her fallen dagger. She had been dropped so close to it; she need only reach to retrieve her weapon, and then –

​

Before she could equip herself, though, she felt a painful yank upon her scalp; Dimitri grasped one of the horn ornaments that was securely intertwined within her hair, lifting her upwards by the handhold.

Her mind wasn’t yet above the haze the recent lack of oxygen had provided, and so Dimitri found little resistance as he forced the woman to find her feet. Edelgard lacked for balance, even as she found her footholds, and so she easily turned as the king spun her to face away from him. Suddenly aware of the press of his unforgiving breastplate against her back, the woman’s brows drew inward in confusion – and then she felt his strong hands upon her chest.

Her lips parted to speak, to protest, but the only sound that escaped her was a disapproving scoff. The king paid no mind, of course, the way he fondled her fully entitled. He unabashedly felt her up through her clothing, and before Edelgard could formulate a defense against his assault he took further liberties of his possession of her: taking a hold of her garments, unceremoniously grasping and tearing the fabric from her frame. "Dimitri, stop!" she scolded him between labored breaths. Her tone betrayed her fear and did nothing to inspire the man to heed. The proof of this was a continued escalation: without hesitation, the king offered similar treatment to her underclothes, ripping away the final covering of her breasts.

Her reflex was to attempt to cover herself, to shield her body from the exposure. But Dimitri had the advantage and his hands were upon her ample chest immediately following the disrobing. The empress struggled against him, wriggling her body as she fought to free herself from the hateful embrace. Alas, her attempts were to no avail.

She felt nothing but contempt as he spoke to her, the heat of his breath teasing the cuff of her ear as his awful claims spilled from his lips. She hated him, then, the vileness of his trespasses against her body unlocking a depth of loathing she didn't know existed. The way he groped her breasts, as if proof of the words he was speaking: his blatant disregard of her, his manhandling increasing to what became a show of strength. It was obvious he was purposely hurting her, exponentially making the situation worse by subjecting her to pain in such a humiliating fashion. She writhed against him, stifling a groan of discomfort. When he released his painful grip of her chest the relief was short lived, his fingers shifting their attentions to her nipples. A shock reverberated through her body in response, the nubs of flesh betraying her as they hardened against his abuse. She clenched her jaw and exhaled a huffed breath as she felt his teeth close in upon her earlobe. His bite was surprisingly gentle, like a playful nip of a true lover, and the woman was ashamed to admit that - perhaps, in another life - she might have enjoyed such attentions from the man.

Mustering the final shreds of her dignity, she spoke with a tone of command that came naturally to an empress. “I will never belong to you, Dimitri.” The words poured from her lips like venom, full of hatred and spite. She jerked her head to the side, attempting to free her earlobe from between his teeth, though his hold upon her body allowed her very little range of motion. “I am not your whore,” she hissed disdainfully. “…And for all your faults, surely you’re still better than a rapist.”

 

[Chevalier]

​

The vitriol which spat forth from the Empress' noble lips, while expected, only served to further provoke the Lion's ire. But rather than grace his former betrothed with a retort, he instead chose to invoke a more... physical response. After all, the King of Faerghus knew well that actions spoke much more clearly than words. Leaving her exposed chest, his strong appendages took hold of her cape, tearing the crimson fabric once more as if he was plucking the Eagle's wings from her back. As the cape fell, Dimitri then set upon her skirt, which flowed past her thighs and stopped above her armor-clad knees. Though they appeared to be fastened tightly underneath her corset, the enraged King made short work of the bottom of her dress as well, the tattered remains strewn like the remnants of the Adrestian Empire underneath her feet. Exposed were the black tights which ran up to her waist, semi-translucent and soft, they teased the ravenous Lion with a tantalizing view of her underwear just under their darkened veil.

"You can say whatever you'd like." He remarked finally, placing a hand against the crux of her back. With a surprising show of strength, he pushed her forwards, sending her reeling off-balance and almost off of her heels. As the Empress lurched forward, he reached down, hatefully plucking a handful of her silver locks. Tightly, he wound the silvered strands between calloused digits, grabbing the back of her hair as he forcefully kept her gaze pointed towards the ground. "But the truth is... you've been defeated." With her visage still pointed downwards, he began to drag her forwards, pulling her up the marbled steps which led to the Adrestian throne. As soon as she was faced with her seat, the King thrust her face onward, until the side of her portrait was pressed up against the towering spine of the golden seat. Pinned underneath the overwhelming weight of his hand, she would be bent at the waist, a ninety degree angle with her feet still planted before her rightful throne.

"and so, I can call you whatever I wish... do, whatever I wish." As if to prove his words, his offhand found the waistband of her leggings, pulling them downwards until they pooled between her thighs and exposed the plump mounds of her rear. "Harlot." The word dribbled quietly from his lips, followed by the retreat of his hand which spread out into an open palm before delivering a powerful strike to her rear. The crude smack sweltered upon her exposed ass, staining her pale flesh with red. "Slut." The insult was more audible this time... and was followed by the draw of his hand back once again, before he brought it down even more violently upon her in a resounding crack. "Whore." The Lion roared, his hand hitting her with even greater extremity. It was as if a switch had been flipped - the once noble King descending into a lust-driven madness.

“…And for all your faults, surely you’re still better than a rapist.”

The words reverberated through his mind as he drew his hand back once more. Even through his unbridled rage, Edelgard's tongue managed to wound him, like a hammer that pounded against his once impeccable since of honor. The King's remaining eye quivered, before his hand fell upon his victim with another painful strike. "You. Were. Supposed. To. Be Mine!" Between each word, he paused to strike her, hand alternating between her abused mounds. He struck her mercilessly... and yet, his single, sapphire gemstone began to water, obfuscating his vision. Should Edelgard turn her visage backwards, she would witness the single tear that cascaded down the silhouette of the King's face as he hit her. Even after the shouting had ceased, he continued to hit her, over and over again, each smack echoing throughout the halls of the once proud, Adrestian throneroom.

Why did she betray him? Did she not love him?

Thoughts of what could have been riddled the King's mind as he continued to spank her, until her voluminous rear had been thoroughly humiliated by the palm of his hand... until the slut's legs were quivering from the pain. But as the punishment finally came to a halt, the Empress would be foolish to believe that her degrading abuse was over. He allowed the moment to fester, still holding Edelgard's face against the back of her throne as he slowly leaned over her. "It's okay..." He cooed softly underneath his breath, lips edging from her lobe down towards the flank of her neck. His lips planted themselves upon the side of her neck, kissing her in a manner similar to how he would have done many years ago. During theirs days as students at Garreg Mach... when they would have found a quiet spot away from wayward eyes and locked lips passionately against one another. When they promised one another that they would one day rule together.

"It's okay... We can still make an honest woman out of you." In a flash, his tone devolved from the caring Prince back into the ravenous and lust-filled Lion. The tender lips which kissed her bared their fangs, before the King bit down on the side of her neck, clamping down like a hunter claiming its prey. At the same time, one of his hands aggressively paved its way between her legs, writhing its way underneath her underwear so that his fingers could claim ownership over the entrance of her chastity. "I'm going to rape you, El. Every, single, day." The King growled, two fingers cruelly rolling over her sopping slit. His dexterous fingers teased her at first, prodding and circling her tight, little fuckhole. Even if she would attempt to resist him, it wouldn't be long until his digits would be drenched in her sweet nectar... and not long after that, she would feel a finger beginning to press inside of her. "Don't worry. I'm going to fuck an entire dynasty of heirs into you. It'll be just as it should've been,"

Just as it should've been...

 

[Spark]

​

Ultimately, Edelgard knew that whatever she said would not change the course of this altercation. And yet, she had hoped that her insult of Dimitri’s honor would have given him pause in his actions against her; instead, it seemed she had only fanned the flames of his rage. Without so much as a verbal response, the King of Faerghus’s hands took their leave of her chest, redirecting their wrath to her remaining garments. The empress stood, proud and unfaltering, as the man ripped the cloak from her shoulders. Resolved to hold what little ground remained beneath her heels, her lilac eyes merely watched Dimitri as he tattered her skirt in a maddened display of his power over her.

She didn’t fight it. The unseated empress could have kicked and screamed; she could have clawed at his remaining eye, or done any number of violent things. But it was pointless, she knew. She’d made her attempt on Dimitri’s life. She’d failed. Even as she was strong, her assailant was undeniably stronger. Resisting him now would undoubtedly only cause more harm to herself, and so she simply continued to watch the unfolding events with a stoic expression.

When he spoke, Edelgard was nearly surprised by his utterance. But as the man placed a hand upon her back, pushing her forward so forcibly that she stumbled, it was entirely too clear why he would seemingly allow her such verbal liberties. Her words meant nothing to him. She caught herself from her near-fall, rushing to find her balance, only to discover Dimitri's fingers tangling in a painful grip of her silvery strands before she could straighten her posture. Her own hands raised to the back of her head, as if she might be able to suppress the strain upon her roots, though admittedly her efforts made little difference. Dimitri's strong hand ensured that she couldn't lift her face, forcing her eyes to remain on the floor. Before he started to drag her forwards he confirmed that her defeat had removed any influence or significance her words had once contained.

The fear was setting in. As Dimitri dragged his captive to the dais, up the steps, and before her throne, she felt an unimaginable dread and powerlessness that called back to the darkest period of her youth. The events of which were the very reason that she had forged the path that she had, the very reason that so many had to die in the war to break the system...

"And so, I can call you whatever I wish... do, whatever I wish," Dimitri spoke coldly. With her face pressed against the back of her throne, her assailant's grip continuing to hold her head in place, she had been forced in to a position in which she was bent over her former seat of power. Edelgard felt as Dimitri's free hand pulled her tights downwards. She could only squeeze her eyes closed tightly in response, focusing all of her efforts on remaining strong. She wouldn't give him the pleasures of her tears, or let him glimpse the quiver of her lower lip.

Repress it. Breathe...

Her hands had fallen to the seat of her throne when she'd be forced in to her present position, her arms supporting her weight so that the pull upon her hair needn't be so intense. Her fingers clawed at the cushion as Dimitri quietly named her a harlot. She could feel his gaze upon her exposed rear, the fashion of her panties leaving very little to the imagination; the silken material was masterfully crafted, with intricate threadwork along the hems - no doubt a testament to just how privileged and special she once was - and were of a design meant to show off her wonderfully rounded backside. She'd always had a preference for thongs: even as no one ever saw them, she found the garment made her feel confident and sexy. The empress had long imagined the reaction of a potential lover to the sight of them: she looked forward to their excitement and arousal when she sensually unveiled the lingerie beneath her regal dress. But, at this very moment - at this particular reveal - she felt only shame.

Edelgard gave a surprised cry in response to the hard smack upon her backside. Her eyes flashed open, her expression twisting to a combination of hurt and anger. Dimitri called her a slut, his voice louder than before, followed by a harder strike of his hand. She clenched her jaw this time, refusing to cry out in pain. "Whore," he shouted, smacking her so hard that a whimpering sob escaped from her throat. The floodgates were open, and as the king continued his abuse, his victim was unable to but respond with pathetic cries and whines, despite her best efforts to silently suffer his assault.

"You. Were. Supposed. To. Be Mine!"

It wasn't the strikes between each word that caused her tears: it was the words themselves. She failed to witness Dimitri's face in the wake of his wrathful statement, though she heard the lingering pain beneath the surface of his rage.

Our love – our potential happiness – was a casualty of the war.

…A casualty of my war.

Dimitri had done nothing wrong. He didn't deserve the pain and torment that life had rewarded him for living. Even before her betrayal, the man had suffered more trauma and loss than most, and Edelgard knew that her actions - that her crusade to create a better world - would break the man's heart. ...She did it anyway. What did their hearts matter, when the world was broken? The empress had convinced herself that her sacrifice was necessary. She was still convinced. Even if she'd heaped on to Dimitri's existing mental and emotional anguish, made a monster of the man she'd loved in her youth... There was no room for regret for what she'd done.

She couldn't make a guess of how many heavy handed smacks Dimitri had delivered to her cheeks, or how long the assault had lasted. Edelgard was only aware of the sharp pangs of pain, the searing after effect continuingly being built upon, to the point that she feared her legs would buckle beneath her. She resisted purely out of pride and spite. Just as she was convinced that she couldn't take any more, the abuse finally came to an end.

After a moment of silence the king leaned over his victim, whispering soothing words. The woman's face was wet with tears, her sobbing soft and subsiding. But when she felt Dimitri's lips gracing her neck with sweet kisses, another well of sorrow overcame her. Such tenderness, juxtaposed against the recent abuse, served as a painful reminder of what could have been. He didn't torture her with such notions for too long: he spoke again, his comforting tone twisting to something more menacing with each offered word.

When he bit her neck a renewed cry poured from her lips. In the same moment his hand trespassed, slipping between her flesh and her panties. Edelgard was humiliated to realize that Dimitri's fingers would find evidence of arousal as they stroked over her womanly folds, her body betraying her as it reacted in such a shameful way to his abuses. "D-Dimitri, don't," she pleaded, the former command of her tone withered.

"I'm going to rape you, El. Every, single, day."

Edelgard shut her eyes briefly in response, trying to repress the fresh tears that threatened to well in her vision. She couldn't hide the quiver of her lip, however. The events leading up the moment had made his intentions obvious, but hearing him say as much so blatantly, his tone so cruel and uncaring... She couldn't deny her part in creating the monster, and being left to his mercy (or lack thereof) was as terrifying as it was miserable. A pair of his fingers freely explored between her legs, teasing her slit with an easy confidence that spoke to his perceived possession of her as a tool for his pleasure. Her eyes opened and she parted her lips to protest as she felt a thick finger start to press inside of her. "Plea--"

"Don't worry. I'm going to fuck an entire dynasty of heirs into you. It'll be just as it should've been."

There had been a time in her life that the prospect of carrying Dimitri's child - or children - was cherished. That she'd be fortunate to have such an honor. Now, however... What had once been a dream had become a nightmare. It was undeniably the absolute worst torment he could inflict upon her: to use her body to reproduce for him. She'd rather be tortured to death. Her whole body tensed as he reignited her hatred: even her tight, virginal passage clenched even more constrictively around his invading digit.

"I've wronged you," she admitted abasedly. "I understand that you want to hurt me, that you desire revenge..." She trailed off briefly, unable to claim that he didn't deserve such retaliations against her. "...But...breeding me isn't justice, Dimitri. It's sick." She had to bite her tongue, lest she devolve in to series of name-calling. Boar Prince. Monster. "How many times have you promised to remove my head from my shoulders? ...Kill me and be done with it, you fucking coward."

 

[Chevalier]

​

While the Empress was free to deliver whatever thinly-veiled insults her regal lips could muster, the truth of the matter was that no words would be able to alter the King's current course of action. If anything, Edelgard would soon find that chastising her former lover would only anger him, a fact that she'd learn to be rather unenjoyable. "Coward?" The tone in Dimitri's voice fell low once again, as if foreshadowing the Lion's imminent rage. The Boar Prince had always been a man of seldom words, the few that would leave his lips often devoid of emotion. Yet, even behind such softly spoken words lingered a terrifying aura, one bridled by madness and anguish. The Lion need not roar, and yet his voice maintained the ability to instill fear all the same.

"All of the innocent people that died because of you... and I'm the coward? The villain?" Dimitri's single finger delved further into the Empress' chastity, pressing inwards before hooking upwards. Her drooling cunt squelched with each, vulgar movement, shamelessly coating his digit in the sweet nectar of needy arousal. As his finger began to vigorously scout her chaste and unclaimed fuckhole, the hand upon her scalp tugged upwards, pulling the side of her face from the throne and the back of her head once more into his stalwart chest. "Tell me, my little Empress, do you feel brave?" He growled into her ear, before averting her gaze downwards so that her pretty, panicked gemstones could see the crime that was taking place between her legs. His words were accentuated by the mess he was creating underneath, the Empress' breeding lips smacking audibly as his finger rolled back and forth into her. No matter what words would leave her lips, the ones between her legs sang a vastly different tune: one of desperation... one that was begging to be used and fucked.

His finger would continue to force its way inside of her - writhing and prodding until the monster could feel the tension constricting in his pants. It was at that moment that he removed his hand from between her legs before spinning Edelgard around, pushing her back into her throne and stepping forward, blocking any escape from her position with his overwhelming presence. To ensure she would not fight back, he preemptively struck the side of her face once again, stunning her temporarily as his hands retreated back to his own waist. By the time her eyes would find him once again, she would be met with the grotesque sight of his oversized, erect cock. The obscene monstrosity was arm-thick, the underside of its shaft riddled in a vulgar network of pulsating, cable-thick veins that accentuated its terrifying length. Perhaps, for but a transient moment, the Empress would find herself entranced by the sheer size of the objectifying fuckpillar. The kind of awe that stemmed from the enormous, thick shadow draping over her view, blocking out the light and smothering her vision with wanton need.

She was a woman, after all, it was only natural for her to want to be bred by such a handsome cock... to be utterly and unequivocally conquered by seemingly endless, thick ropes of a worthy man's hot sludge. But then, Dimitri knew what terror would undoubtedly befall her:

That thing was going to force its way inside of her.

Ignoring any of Edelgard's expected pleads, Dimitri would reach down, capturing her her still-armored ankles between his misogynistic hands before forcefully hoisting them into the air. She would be forced to arch her back, sliding down into her once cherished seat of power in order to accommodate the King's ferocious manhandling. As her legs were holstered upwards, Dimitri's hand would leave one temporarily, reaching down to shred the panties that acted as the final shield for her chastity. Like her insults, Dimitri would discard the fabric, before taking up his rightful position between her legs.

"You want this, don't you?" He taunted her, the engorged glans of his cock upreared and hovering closer to her tight, unused hole. It kissed her entrance, her cunt walls spreading ever so slightly to desperately suckle on the very tip of his sweltering fuckshaft. But as her drooling cunt clung desperately to him, Dimitri's lips curved into a malevolent smile. "You want this fat cock inside of you, you want it to ravage your insides and breed you like the pretty, little bitch you are." Whether or not her lips said no, the glint that passed over her iridescent gaze screamed: Yes. After all, no woman could ever resist such a natural instinct.

But, as it seemed like the rape of her cunt was imminent, the head of his cock retreated, leaving her hole slightly agape - but her honor wholly intact. "No. We're not going to give you that pleasure today. Besides, I'm a man of honor. I would never sire bastards." While the moment's reprieve may have delivered a wave of relief for the Empress, however, Dimitri spared little time in angling his length downwards, targeting the tighter hole just underneath. "But that doesn't mean we can't have a little fun before our wedding night." The head of his monstrosity pressed against her winking starfish, his waist applying incremental pressure until her tight asshole began to stretch to accommodate his girth.

​

"Go on whore, say something clever for me." He wanted to hear the bitch beg, to plead like the powerless piece of fuckmeat she was. But regardless of what she would say, the result would be the same.

With a sudden thrust, he slammed his oversized slab of meat into her asshole, spreading her starfish brutally apart as half of his length plunged into her. Without lube, it would certainly be a painful affair and even Dimitri himself winced as her crevice-laden orifice clamped down on his fuckpillar with unbelievable strength. But regardless of how tight she was, or how much she would scream out in pain, Dimitri would continue to press into her, the last half of his oversized mastodon disappearing into her inch by fucking inch. He would force himself down upon her, until her tight hole would be transformed into a living massage parlor for his royal shaft, cradling every contour and deformity, taut muscles violently twitching against his cock as he pressed against her.

Then, when it seemed like her asshole would take no more of his oversized length... the piston had begun.

Drawing backwards, Dimitri slammed his waist into her, his length pressing deeper and deeper into her hole, eviscerating any resistance in the walls that separated her cunt from her rectum. He would begin pounding her, slowly at first, but with increasing speed and relentless vigor. The invader would delve deeper, until his scrotum would finally slap against the plump, ivory cheeks just underneath in a resounding clap. CLAP CLAP CLAP! The vulgar sound would fill the air as Dimitri slamfucked the defenseless Empress, mixing with his grunts and whatever terror would leave Edelgard's vocal cords. Her already reddened ass would become well acquainted with the King's groin, being mercilessly pounded against as the Lion conquered every inch of the bitch's tight hole.

"Just think," He groaned between thrusts, "I'm going to..." he grunted, drawing backwards so that he could thrust into her once again. "Fuck you like this... every night for the rest of your life."

 

[Spark]

Her intention had been to infuriate him, of course. Even so, when Dimitri repeated her insult of coward, the woman felt something akin to regret. Her words wouldn't be able to inspire him to kill her, as she had aimed and hoped. No. She was only adding fuel to the fire. She could feel the threat of his wrath just as keenly as she could hear it in his voice. When he continued to speak, his rage was just as evident in his tone as was the contempt for her in his words.

Don't show him your fear, she advised herself. Antagonizing him wasn't smart, certainly, but it sated the woman's ego. "Of course I'm the villain," she spat back defiantly. "Faerghus will write the histories."

His thick finger aggressively prodded her virgin hole. The empress growled in an attempt to overpower an unwelcomed moan; her hatred for him had to be enough to keep her from physically succumbing. He grabbed her hair and roughly pulled her to a standing position, her back forced against the cold steel breastplate of his armor. He asked if she felt brave while forcing her to watch as he finger-fucked her shamefully soaking cunt. He knew the answer, no doubt, without her offering a verbal response. She felt humiliated. Ashamed of her body's willingness to drench Dimitri's invading digit in arousal. A shade of crimson burned her cheeks as she used the new positioning to pretend to defend herself. With her arms freed of bearing her own weight, Edelgard reached for her assailant's wrist, as if she possessed the strength to forcibly remove his hand. "Felix was always right about you," she cut. "Boar Prince."

She continued to struggle, albeit unsuccessfully, up until the moment that Dimitri removed his hand from her. She had little choice but to release his wrist as he spun her around, pushing her back suddenly and forcibly. Landing upon her former seat of power, the empress was unable to bring herself back to her feet or attempt an attack, as the armor-clad man advanced upon and struck her.

It happened so quickly that Edelgard was only suddenly aware of a noise - her own yelp of pain - and the searing pain of her cheek thereafter. She was in no rush to recover, taking a lingering moment with her eyes closed and face turned to the side. She wanted to call him a monster but she was beginning to consider her insults a little more carefully. Reluctantly, the woman's violet eyes fluttered open, her sight returning disdainfully to the victor of the war...

Her sight didn't find him. Instead, her gaze attached to the massive fuckpillar that hovered perfectly at eye-level. "No," she spoke in resistance, her sight soaking in the immenseness of his cock with utter disbelief. Even as she didn't want to look she couldn't tear her sight away from him, her gaze tracing the intimate details of the grotesque monstrosity. There was no way he'd be able to --

Dimitri unceremoniously took a hold of her ankles, hoisting her legs into the air. A surprised cry escaped her lips, followed by a protest. "Let go of me!" she demanded with a mustered tone of authority. She twisted her form as she slid downwards in her throne, her shoulders soon finding themselves awkwardly trapped in the crook of the seat and backrest. Her head was forced at such an angle that she had no choice but to watch as Dimitri reached for and ripped off her panties. She kicked at him with an armored boot in retaliation, aiming to heel him in the face, but the seasoned warrior had been prepared for her to strike in her brief window of opportunity. He caught her ankle once again, forcing her legs apart, taking his place between them.

"You want this, don't you?" he taunted.

"No," Edelgard denied her attacker's charge. "You can't--" she began to protest, but the press of king's crown between her legs caused an interruption of her speech. Her whole body tensed, her jaw clenched and eyes narrowed as she hatefully leered at Dimitri. Although it was futile, the woman used the leverage of her legs to push herself away from him; unfortunately for her, the motion only served to pin her more securely against the seat of her throne. Her retreat of mere inches accomplished nothing, her aggressor easily maintaining contact throughout. His victim left without any hope of escape, Dimitri continued to tease the idea of penetration.

His basking in her helplessness was disgusting.

"You can't do this, Dimitri!" Edelgard yelled angrily. Ignoring her, the tip of the man's monstrous cock pressed harder. The sensation of him spreading apart her lips, the shame of the soaking warmth that greeting him between her legs, the stretch of her virgin cunt as it was given a taste of the difficulties she'd have accommodating his massive fuckspear... She could do little more than rage. "I am an empress! This is a war crime!"

The king seemed disinterested in whatever justice Edelgard thought might be due if he trespassed against her so. Rather than argue with her on the subject, he preferred to elaborate upon his earlier claims of her want. He insisted that she was a bitch meant to be bred, that she wanted to be ravaged by his fat cock.

She stared at him in terrified silence. There would be no reasoning with the madman that he'd become, no threat of consequence that would abate his sickness. Her body trembled lightly, whether in fear or anticipation even she couldn't be sure. "Please--" her voice cracked.

"No. We're not going to give you that pleasure today. Besides, I'm a man of honor. I would never sire bastards."

She should have felt relief as his cock temporarily relinquished it's claim upon her maidenhood... but Edelgard felt only dread. Her stomach twisted in a knot and she felt the sting of tears as they threatened to visibly well in her vision. Dimitri wasn't just going to breed her: he was going to use her to produce papered royal heirs to both of the Empire and the Kingdom. He'd used the term earlier...heirs...but it wasn't until the mention of bastards that the woman understood just how far he was going to take this. Her status as Dimitri's fucking war trophy would be general knowledge across all of Fódlan. It was suddenly clear that Dimitri's entitlement over her knew no bounds: he fully expected the Church of Seiros would simply let him keep her, as if she wasn't due a trial, as if he was the sole dispenser of her justice... She was losing hope that the church would mercifully insist on her execution.

Her lamenting was cut short as she felt the head of his fat cock press against her impossibly tight asshole. "But that doesn't mean we can't have a little fun before our wedding night."

Her lips parted to protest but the empress was at a loss for words. It didn't matter what she said, and in her shock, she feared she may only bring her tormentor further pleasure by begging him not to. She stifled a vocal response as he began to press in to her. "Go on whore, say something clever for me."

Don't give him the satisfaction.

Clenching her jaw defiantly, Edelgard's expression tightened just like the rest of her body. Her nostrils flared as she took a steadying breath. The press of Dimitri's unrelenting spear had begun to open her up: her rectum just beginning to stretch around his cockhead as he tested her resistance. She grimaced and flinched. Don't give him the satisfaction, she repeated to herself. The closer he seemed to fully penetrating her, however, the more afraid - and more desperate - she became.

"Please...please don't," she pleaded in the final moment. "If you've ever had any love for me, Dimitri, you will sto-- Ahh!"

There was no way for her to prepare herself for the pain of her impalement. She screamed. Loudly. It felt as if Dimitri was ripping her apart - as no doubt he was - and masking her discomfort out of spite faded to an obscure idea. The tears followed immediately in wake of the pain... as did the begging.

"Please stop!" she cried pathetically. "You're much too big, I can't -- I can't take it," she sobbed. Despite her pleading, Dimitri pressed his weight on to her with even more force, slowly burying the remainder of his length inside of her abused and already stuffed-full asshole. Edelgard shut her eyes, tears falling down her cheeks. A choking sob escaped her throat, her taut body remaining defiantly tight as her muscles spasmed around his invading cock. "I'll do anything you want, please, just stop!"

He didn't stop, though. He didn't even acknowledge that she begging him to stop. With every inch he continued to sink in to her, the worse the tearing; the pain was unbearable. Edelgard screamed again: this time for help.

"Please, make him stop!" she cried out desperately. She screamed in frustration and pain. "Please, stop him from raping me!"

She could hardly expect a savior to burst in to save her, and when that brutal reality settled in, the empress's violet eyes peered up at her rapist, pleadingly pathetic and pained. It was obvious he would not take pity on her. Still, she tried. "Dimitri, please...please stop..."

He drew his cock backwards, only to slam himself steadily deeper into her no longer virginal ass. Edelgard screamed in pain as he claimed the tightest of her holes again - and again - and again. "Please, anything," she begged him desperately. "You're ripping me apart, I can't--"

Dimitri buried himself to the hilt. Feeling the slap of his balls against her reddened and tender cheeks, Edelgard's whole body flinched in response. He was impossibly deep, and impossibly thick: there was no consolation in the fact that she taking all of him. The empress began crying violently. Dimitri began fucking her faster, his cock no doubt gaining lubrication from her blood, and he continued to thrust in to her with brutal vigor. For how much it hurt, the king may as well be fucking her with Areadbhar: there was no pleasure to be found for the victim, for whom it felt like repeated impalement.

She was crying too hard to speak any longer. Wails of anguish filled the throne room, joined by the lewd sound of slapping flesh and Dimitri's lustful grunts.

"Just think... I'm going to... fuck you like this... every night for the rest of your life," he taunted between thrusts.

There was nothing she could say - nothing she could do - to stop him. She wanted to die. Unable to defend herself, Edelgard folded her arms over her eyes, refusing to bear witness to the crime that was being committed against her body any longer. It was of little help, of course: she still felt the intense pain with every stab of Dimitri's monstrous cock, and she was unable but to continue to bawl uncontrollably, but it was a little comfort to not have to look at him.