#yanstuff

Your warmth was a desire in so many ways.

For that gentle light that your smile brought onto his being; for the embrace of your body against his own – the heat consuming and present. His loneliness would fade away forever. The bitter feelings of unfulfilled youth and forgotten days burning away into ash. You were an idealised being in his eyes. A passionate spirit who brought genuineness to Lumiose; whose desires were uncorrupted and pure against the darkness that could surround you.

He needed to protect you.

Desperation could bloom for any piece of him. All kinds of means were at his disposal to keep you with him. Kidnapping was an obvious one, but his heart broke at the thought of you not being with him willingly. Blackmail was another – but he had long used that card.

One idea had been prickling at his head for quite a while.

The final heat he so adored.

Your hand was clutched in his own as you laid against the silken sheets. He watched as your mouth opened to suck in air and cry out his name. Corbeau groaned at the feeling of your wet heat clenching around his cock. The warmth was like no other. A reminder that you were all his. No other person would see you splayed out as you were. Your legs wrapped around his waist while he thrusted at a steady pace.

He felt smug at the memory of your shock at how endowed he was. You wrapped a hand around his cock in distress and spoke concern that it would not fit. But, it would. He would be careful that you were under the carefully monitored influence of a poison that relaxed one's muscles. You hardly had a chance to resist the full length that pieced you open. Your cries had echoed in his ears.

He rutted harshly into your cervix, enjoying the cry that left you. Oh, his plans. His free hand shifting to rub at your clit. Your walls fluttering around his length made another groan come from him. This innocence you held – he moulded it dutifully with his poison. You would shift into what he needed most. He adored you so much. Fear that you might leave him had become a paranoid thought.

He was a man of control, and you were something that remain just out of his reach. The expression on your face enthralled him through is fogging glasses. Your eyes were filled with bliss. There was hardly a thought in your head. Only the pleasure of his dick inside you was on your mind. His lips found yours for a passionate kiss. Corbeau sucked your tongue into his mouth.

A coil inside him began to tighten, reminding him of what he desired most. You needed a tether. Something that kept you to Lumiose more than any ring or document could – Something that showed what he was to you. The kiss broke, and he rested his forehead to your own. Something permanent. He watched your face contort in pleasure. A sneering grin fell across his face.

Such a beautiful sight… He wanted it framed. Yet, no one else would bare witness to something he adored so much.

You were close, though. He could tell that much. His actions would bare fruit as he hit your cervix particularly hard and pressed your clit in just the right way. The feeling of your walls clamping down around his dick was maddening. Inviting – pleading for a biological imperative. Something so irresistible. He only made a few more thrusts himself.

The coil snapped. You cried out from the feeling spreading inside you. He clutched your hand tighter.

His treasure. His most precious treasure. Something so wonderful.

“You know,” he spoke, remaining buried inside you. This was far from the only time he would fill you tonight. “I expect you to get pregnant tonight.” The words made your eyes go wide despite the haze of lustful pleasure. “You got that?” he asked like he had when gave a job for you to do. Before you could even begin to start asking too many questions, he reached for a remote to turn on a diffuser.

A sickeningly sweet scent permeated in the room. Aphrodisiacs… You both would be too lost to think straight soon enough.

He kissed you again.

Those who sought him out began questioningly the mundane and expressing displeasure at his answers. Shouting, screaming, and claiming that they knew the answer or that he was wrong. It weighed on him. Then came those questioning reality— the very fabric of why everything was. The answer left those only more lost. The confusion and doubt almost seeped into him. His mood and demeanour shifted. Especially after a few dared attempted to attack him for his answer. You had been injured then, nearly sending him into a frenzy.

He began to view those of this world as ungrateful and ignorant. You could hardly blame him, but you had tried to reassure him of those who wished for true knowledge and answers. It never seemed to change him mind. He was silent.

Something shifted in the air. His behaviour became mischievous— telling lies to those who sought him out and sowing endless confusion into the masses. You were shocked by how he had become. A discussion attempt turned into him scoffing and telling you to try it. Or, better yet, just relax in the Spire and not worry about the rest of the world. You had been utterly disgusted by those words and fled from him.

The Fount you had loved was gone.

You felt sadness in your recollection. All you could do was continue to teach and spread the knowledge that the world desperately needed.

Though, you found yourself staring at the starry sky above and thinking of him. It was beautiful, if not a bit cold. A permanent home just seemed impossible for you. Suddenly, a breeze blew through, making you shiver. You covered yourself more and closed your eyes. Sleeping it off was best. Your fire had long burned out.

The wind blew more and more around you. It was frigid. You felt like you might freeze. It was in your desperate to get under the warmth of your covers that something touched you. It was warm. Eerily so. You shot awake, but the tendril curled around you and kept you from fleeing. Your heart was lead in your chest. It held you tightly.

“My most precious marionette,” a voice cooed. You tensed. Familiarity ate at your brain, but you refused to acknowledge it. There was simply no way. You had heard stories. They had been sealed—! More tendrils coiled around you and pulled you from the blankets and into them. You were forced to gaze at the being before you.

Many eyes— undulating form— something chaotic in the air. And one bright blue eye that stared at you with a loving adoration. You wanted to cry, but it only held you tighter to its body. “This you,” it spoke, “I've been searching for you…” You tried to scream, but a tendril covered your mouth. Disappointed crossed its face. “It's me, darling,” a coo in a voice you refused to name, “Your beloved Fount. Aren't you happy? Now you're no longer alone.” You felt tears burning your eyes.

“Ugh,” his tone took a dark one, “Why are you always so difficult?” A string suddenly came around your wrists and ankles. “No matter,” he brought the tendrils to cup your face and meet your gaze with his innumerable eyes, “You'll love me again soon enough.” A forehead came to rest on your own.

You were truly something else.

Everything you did – every little action you made; Corbeau had become utterly enthralled.

A tourist hardly was on his radar with the many that came and went from the enclave of Lumiose. But you… That first sight. A promotion match in the plaza outside if his building. He found himself watching, curious. You… He had heard so much of you. Emma gave you work she could not to get herself. You were so kind. And, watching you battle, he grew ever more curious.

Your position as a person of interest for him only was set to grow as your rank suddenly did. The way you handled the Rogue Mega Evolution problem with little protest – committing to it. Protecting this city he so adored; his home. His only home. The home that left him suffering in its dark alleyways and stealing food for survival. He had a knack for older men seeing his potential and nurturing it. That man from Kanto and Lysandre… The nights spent shivering and offering his warmth desperately to his Venipede were far off from him now.

But once someone knows hunger – they never forget it.

And he had never forgotten it.

You played around to meet the streamer girl who was your promotion match and aided that muscled fool to find his “missing” sister. Your rank was the same as his own. Strings would be pulled – Quasartico was a business partner. You would be his match one way or another. And, rather than making you dance to find him, he would have you brought before him. A lamb to slaughter. That idiot team leader of yours took a loam without considering the consequences. He felt sorry for you. The competence you displayed…

And, you proved yourself wonderfully even more. The tasks he assigned to you, nothing more than community service to test your resolve. Seeing you play with those kids… His heart raced. If you had a fan, it would certainly be him.

Hunger. Desire.

Yet, apprehension.

Suffocating apprehension.

He passed his plans. You were one he knew that could handle the task of stopping that tower and many other things plaguing the city.

And, yet, even then, he kept himself busy. Repairs, his investments, there was hardly any time to play with you.

Then everything with Hyperspace Lumiose.

His head was pounding from the lack of sleep. Yet, the image of Ansha gazing up at you so adoringly – the kindness you showed her. He could only clutch over his heart.

That was why it was an ice bath of realisation when you sat across from him in his office, handing over a pokeball containing something you all had worked so hard for. A comment about your plans to go back home, finally exhausted of it all.

Maybe it was his hunger; maybe it was his lack of sleep.

He sprung up from the couch and rounded the table to hover over you in that seat. You looked shocked. He hardly cared.

Lips came down onto your own. Words were useless here. You needed to be taught your place at long last. The crime boss had no intention of letting you slip away. This was your home now – just as it was his own. You would be happy. He would get you whatever you desired. All those pretty clothes you desired. Anything. Everything.

Your wrists were held together in his hands. He gave you no room to breathe.

His.

You would wear his group's crest. There would not be a single doubt.

None.

Paperwork would be filled out; officials paid off. Nothing he did not do every day.

“Quit saying things like this place isn't your home,” he threatened, “I'll lock you away if you don't, yeah? You're here to stay.”

Any protests would have you hidden in his apartment.

One was busy being trained to be the next president of Quasartico, the others had their own futures to worry about. The rest… Well, they would understand. It was not like they did not have their lives to focus on.

Yet, one in particular held your attention when you allowed your thoughts to linger. A personal farewell was needed. Especially since… You swallowed.

It would be far too cruel to not discuss it with him.

The office felt intimidating once more. It unsettled you in a way that it had not since you first stepped foot inside while having an impossibly high-interest rate held above your head. You knew that you were in no danger – especially since the very intimidating head of the group clearly favoured you. His hardened expression became something gentle as you approached his desk. He waved at his henchman to ready tea before offering you a seat at the couches he was so proud of.

💜Corbeau💎

You sat across from him. Why were you so nervous? Your plane ticket was booked. Philippe brought over a steaming teapot of a popular Johtonian blend. Corbeau was quite fond of it, you had learnt. He had spoken in depth about his annoyance in having to import it but learning to grow the leaves himself. You held your cup as he poured it for you, ever the polite host. That couch made your cheeks burn. He sipped his tea, letting his eyes close. You wondered what was on his mind. How could you bring it up? A sip of your own drink had your mind circling.

“So you booked a ticket back to your region,” he started, pulling out his phone, “Did you forget to book a return one? Here, allow me to do it for you.” You tensed. Desperately, you called out to stop him. He blinked. “Oh? Well, it would be no issue. Don't you want to show me your home? I already discussed things over with Philippe,” he showed you his own ticket – yours had been upgraded, “I saw your visa was running out. I'll be there to help you apply for a different one this time.” He smiled far too sweetly. There was something underlying his words.

“I'd prefer if you became a citizen, but that is a later discussion,” he took a document from Philippe and laid it on the table for you to see. A… marriage certificate? Your signature was at the bottom, alongside his own. He stared at it adoringly. “Oh, I had this ready for a long time. Now, when you reapply, you can get a spousal visa. A permanent one,” he picked it up and returned it to Philippe, who dutifully took it back to Corbeau's desk.

“Of course,” he stared at you with an intense gaze, “I would love to meet who you consider important to introduce myself as your husband. But… I could also have your paperwork finalised here if you rethink a flight out.”

You felt a bit dizzy suddenly. The tea cup was sat down. Corbeau watched you with an unwavering expression.

“Don't you worry about a thing, my rose,” he stood up suddenly, “You'll be here at my side for the rest of our days.”

You stood before the café truck as the baristo finished up for the day. He and Griselle stood inside, washing their appliances and gadgets thoroughly. Your presence had hardly gone noticed in their focus. Why did you feel so nervous? Grisham was hardly an aggressive type. That was the woman who stood beside him. You heard him call out your name. A genuine smile was on his face. He excused himself, stating they were just about done.

🔥Grisham☕️

You ended up helping them gather their seats and tables back into the truck for overnight storage. The help got you a gentle peck on the temple from Grisham alongside a sighing thanks from Griselle. His hand held your own gently. The waitress bid her farewell, stating her intention to battle. Grisham nodded. The two of you were alone. He guided you to his apartment – a one room affair, but you hardly cared to judge. It was difficult finding anyone willing to rent to him.

He took to the kitchen, preparing a coffee for you both to enjoy. Charizard stomped to you whilst his trainer was busy to demand pets. You sighed at the fire-type's neediness. The ex-Flare members had really become important to you. Their acceptance of your presence in their lives – the fact Grisham admitted that he adored you. You felt bad that you intended to leave and possibly continue your travels. It was really important that you properly discussed such things with him. A cup of coffee was placed before you, steaming gently. The mug had a cute Litleo print on it. Grisham sat down across from you at the table, letting his hair down.

“What was it that you wished to speak to me about?” he asked before taking a sip of his coffee, “Is everything okay?” It was then it all spilled out of you – Everything about your visa and your thoughts about travel. He took another drink of his coffee. It was silent. You stared at your own. The black liquid felt mocking. Dark and bitter. Your feelings swirled inside. Grisham opened his eyes. The auburn colour striking your soul.

“… I see,” he finally spoke, “Is… that so… I suppose I hadn't realised you were only here on holiday, with how everything had gone.” The mug sitting on the table paired for a sad image when Charizard came in to brush against his trainer for attention. His hand came to pet the fire-type. “Is that truly your plans…?” he asked. You felt your resolve shatter.

Were they? You wavered. Especially when he retrieved a small box from his night stand. A ring. You swallowed.

“Please,” he begged, “I'll be the best husband you could ever desire. Just stay here in Lumiose.”

It was just a residue of what once was, however. Seeing the opulent wealth of the highest class in the city while he had been homeless on the street had been something that brought a feeling of burning rage into his veins. His suffering was so miniscule to the bright parties that never seemed to end. All he had was the clothes that he wore and the Venipede that stayed at his side. His intelligence is what had carried from those days and got the attention of a local gang. Philippe's attempts to beat the shit out of him were hardly forgotten, even if he was under this thumb these days.

Desperately suffering for just a comfortable place to sleep and eat while seeing others waste food for simply not liking the taste… His heart would always be alight from the memories.

But, those harsh days were long gone. Food was always available if he wanted it, and his bed was far more comfortable than it need be for how often he actually used it.

Opulence was visible in his office – extensive items decorating the room that he had carefully designed. His intimidation for those who owed him money was hard to miss. Scum that came to him begging got the worst of it, while those truly downtrodden were met with his nicer side.

But what had reignited that jealousy… A simple tourist. They had haunted the annals of his mind and refused to give him a moment of peace. His eyes and ears were everywhere – he knew of them long before they even had a thought about him. The moment they stepped off that train and had their bag stolen, he knew who they were. It was just a blip on his radar – until they became far more.

Acts of kindness throughout the city and helping those with menial tasks… Rising up the ranks of the Z-A Royale with ease… Handling the Rogue Megas... His desperation to truly meet then had been intense. The city was in the palm of his hand, arranging a meeting through unscrupulous means had been nothing. No matter how unfortunate for your dear friend.

And the moment you had been before his eyes…

It had been over.

The jobs he had given under the obligation of paying off the interest your friend's debt had accrued were to test your character. Seeing a kind and helpful side even further shine, his tasks had hardly been more than community service. He personally watched over you.

His heart had never felt so light. You were a bright, purifying shine in comparison to his dulled, rotten self. He envied you as much as he desired you. Even Lysandre returned and crawled out of wherever he had been to acknowledge you.

The city was in the palm of his hand…

And he would clench his fist.

But for now, he let you go. The tasks had earned the interest to be forgiven, and he made certain to gift your friend the funds to pay off their debt. He would hate for you to be truly upset with him. Corbeau was mindful to watch from a distance as you danced around his palm – never truly out of his grasp. The city was your playground as you made friends and acquaintances. You shined as brightly as Prism Tower. He was contented to be bathed only partially in your light.

But, that very tower ended up being what snapped all his carefully entwined string around you.

Seeing you nearly die…

He realised there were far too many factors beyond his control.

And, with you so fragile from such a great loss.

It was finally time to trap his beloved light before it burned out. He may corrode it just a bit, but when pressed between losing it or tainting it… The latter was the only one he found himself fully willing to accept.

Finding you dozing on a bench in the city, apparently waiting for nightfall, he decided then he must act. His protection was only so much when he could not be with you constantly. His grunts could prove far too flippant. Nothing could compare to his unyielding love.

No one else would be graced with your light anymore if he deemed them unworthy.

Those cries and pleas at first would slowly melt into acceptance. Your wishes would be granted – anything you desired would be gifted with little hesitation. Barring any freedom. Friends were allowed to visit the office, knowing fully well they were under the gaze of the Rust Syndicate's boss. You had morphed into quite a figure in the group, too. All the underlings knew better than to distress you, treating you as if you were one of the boss's expensive treasures.

Escorts in the city were gifted, and ventures to wherever you wanted could be allowed.

Corbeau would not be a true monster to you.

You still loved him, in the end.

He caught your chin and rested his forehead to your own.

In Kantonian and Johtonian culture, Scolipedes were considered a penultimate impurity. He had fully latched himself onto that image without realising. Lips hovered above your own.

The jealousy in his heart that any other would even dare corrupt what was his to claim.

The jealousy that anyone else would take what small happiness he had.

The inner child who desired love and envied those with it.

Corbeau felt everything swirling together in him to make a far more potent poison than anything he had ever attempted in actuality.

You were in the centre of his palm.

“Even if you never forgive me,” he finally spoke, opening his eyes to show the toxic colour, “I'll always love you.”

Within the Scolipede's coil, you would remain, surrounded by the strongest of impurities.

The words that left your lips made his eyes fall shut once more.

But… It was not. You knew it was not. Philippe remarked plainly about how you made Corbeau's mood brighten. You noticed how he often paused his work to give time to you. And the way he always seemed to have an eye out for you. You knew. So, you tried to distance yourself. It worked for a bit, but suddenly, you found yourself encountering him. He would be just curiously at a café you had gone into at random. He would insist upon sharing a table. At a boutique, he would appear to compliment your chosen items and offer to purchase them.

So, you had come to his office to inform of your departure from Lumiose. Finally, your time in the city was to come to a close. He had seemingly taken it well, sipping his tea and nodding along with your words. Suddenly, however, he announced plainly that you need not worry about things, as he would handle them. You insisted that you truly needed to return home, but he shot you a terrifying look. Something felt almost radioactive in his eyes. You sighed and stood up. Knowing he would not listen, you bid a farewell.

That was when things went awry, truly. He had sent out his Roserade and attempted to use Stun Spore. You narrowly dodged and rushed out in the elevator pressing any floor in your panic. That led to your current situation. Hiding in a locker and trying to control your breathing. Corbeau was dangerous. You knew that. It hardly occurred that he was so attached to you. Budding feelings of romance did not turn into attempted kidnapping.

The door of the locker room creaked open. You saw a shadow cast across the floor of the dark room. Your name was called out, almost playfully. “You know I don't like manual labour,” Corbeau crossed in front of the vent of the locker, stepping to glance around the room. “Come out,” he turned back to seemingly head towards the door, “We really need to finish our discussion. That's real rude of you to run off.” Just as he was about to walk back past, he shoved his face to peer into the vent.

“I'm not mad,” he stared directly into your eyes, “I just want to figure out some things.” You held your breath. Closing your eyes, you hoped he would leave.

The locker door flew open.

“Game's over,” his grin reminded you of his preferred type, “Found you.”

It hurt to see you so scared; so desperate. You pleaded for him to listen, but he could only shake his head. N had bared witness to even more cruelty and dubious behaviours by humans. It had become ever more clear just how untrustworthy they were. To leave pokemon in their care would be cruel. And, somewhere inside, he felt leaving you to this world would be cruel.

You suffered, too. Someone so kind and understanding. You held the love of your pokemon. With the blessing of Reshiram, he knew you were meant to be at his side. He held you to him, promising your safety from the world. No one would ever be able to hurt you again. Especially not when you had still tried to stop Ghetsis even with no pokemon. You had shielded him while he was in shock. N truly could not believe it for a moment.

You laid with him in his room. It was the familiar place where he spent his youth. Nothing had changed much. His arms were tightly around your waist, holding you to his body. Your injuries from Ghetsis's assault had begun to heal, but they still remained visible. His father's pokemon were made to attack you. N clutched you tighter. He felt disgusted. You were precious and needed to be kept from this world.

His title as king and terrifying presence with Zekrom had made that easy. The league could hardly fight back against the pokemon's might. Foolish. None of them would listen to him. Humans were so clearly cruel and apathetic. The back of his hand gently stroked your cheek. You must have been the best being for humanity to offer. Only your words and actions could sway him and make him doubt in himself. Your voice was a comfort. N truly understood what he felt for once.

Love.

He loved you.

It must have clicked in him a while ago. Maybe while you rode the Ferris wheel in Nimbasa together. You listened to him and did not judge him. He listened to you groan and felt you shift to bring a hand to rub your eyes.

“You know… Lately, you're the only human I believe in,” he spoke softly, “I'm not sure about many things any more…” Your eyes met his, reflecting your sleeplessness that had been a problem. There was a certain distress in your eyes. He pressed his forehead to your own. “I… I love you,” N's voice was even quieter, almost a whisper, “Let's make the future for Unova together.”

It was hardly like you had a choice— N would not let you go.

Yet, you stood atop a roof, looking down at the streets below. Your mind was adrift with this feeling that there was something you were missing. No matter how much attention and thought you gave to it, there was nothing that came to fruition. People came; people went. Days passed. Nothing shifted in any way that left a meaningful impact. It was a bliss – yet it was repetitive.

The Infinite Royale continued at night – the day was whatever tasks Emma offered up to you.

You let your mind wonder.

The days before you came to this city. Small varieties – your monotony that could shift as needed. Spontaneity could occur. Yet, here you stood. Nothing occurred.

What were you missing? It left you tense and bothered. A shaky breath brought you no closer to some forbidden knowledge that was denied to you; a realisation that would explain your unease. Anxiety was a cowardly explanation. Everyone put it forth when you mentioned it. Nothing about it could explain the painful headaches that came when you tried to think too much.

You stood in front of a route gate now. Its heavy doors were always tightly shut. Why? The renovations had been the reason claimed by officials. A ride on the train could bring you out to wherever you wanted – Why worry about the gate? The train station left you uneasy. Simply standing before it brought a chill down your spine. Something about the thought of leaving Lumiose left you unable to move. Your feet felt stuck to the ground.

(Were they actually? You lacked the constitution to look down and see if the concrete had moulded around your feet.)

Why would you ever wish to leave your home? This city was your home now. Your hand grasped your nape. A pain suddenly blossomed across your flesh. Something burning under your skin and spreading. A panted breath came from you. Closing your eyes, you sat down on a bench.

Within your phone – many notes. So many notes. Endless thoughts that you knew were your own, yet you failed to recall. More typed day and day. This pain. It came whenever you thought of leaving.

What was it?

Your theories were indefinite. Only the causation was known. This city was a prison for you, yet your mind was forced to adore it. Your home.

Your home. Your home. Your home.

You loved your home.

The pain subsided finally. You sucked in a breath. Plans for a café visit with Lida came to mind. Naveen had designed a piece of you, too. Ivor wanted to battle you. Jacinthe would hold a tournament. Canari and Gwynn invited you out to a hang-out session. Friends. Your home.

Something left you meek.

A centipede coiled. Something you had written in a delirium, you failed to remember properly. Lumiose was a coil that you remained within.

You…

You…

Your feet carried you to the Bleu District. You stared at the strange building to wordlessly enter. The guards hardly found your presence strange – strict permission to allow your entry was given. No one would ever stop you. The elevator felt eerily cold. No matter how much you clutched your jacket to yourself, heat was not retained. The doors opened.

“Came to play?” A voice called out, setting a paper down on his desk. You stared at him. Nothing was said. His chin came to rest on his hand. “Now, why won't you talk?” You felt strange. Feelings twisted into an incomprehensible knot. You hated him first, then you liked him. Now, something set you off about him.

“I want to leave,” You tried. The pain in your shoulder did not come. He stared at you and tilted his head.

“What? Where to?” he cocked a brow up, “… Why come to me?”

Why come to him. You did not know. Blinking, you strolled to his desk. A hand rested on it. Eyes closed. Something about him… Him…

Corbeau... Why was he on your mind so much? His hand came to rest on your own. He called your name. The hand was lifted to his lips. It was soft. You opened your eyes.

“Stay,” the word felt like a command, “You're happy, aren't you?”

You nodded.

“What do you want?”

You shrugged. His brows furrowed.

“Come here,” he spoke again. You followed, coming around to his side. He motioned you into his lap. Some part of you screamed not to, yet you did. He pressed your face into his nape. “Do you need another dose of my venom?” he asked in a low tone, “You've been adapting well enough so far… Maybe a higher one?” His words made you nervous. Your body was far too relaxed. It would not budge. He brought a hand to stroke your hair.

“Maybe,” he caught your chin and had you meet his eyes. They held a glow – Something hypnotising and oddly comforting. It was familiar. How many times had you seen him like this? Only now did the memories flood back. “Maybe, it's time you became truly mine.”

You spoke no word of protest.

His lips found your own.

~

You held Corbeau's hand as bright lights shined around the night of Lumiose. It was a beautiful sight that could be found nowhere else. Only within this centipede's coil could such a light be protected and allowed to glow. Reality was fuzzy, but you enjoyed it. Your head rested on his shoulder. Where had you been before coming to Lumiose? Those memories were long pushed aside. The venom that took course alongside your blood made such things unnecessary to recall.

How lonely your beloved must have been. His existence was a thing no mortal could comprehend, yet he chose to exist among them and adore their small, pitiful lives. The city was him and all the inhabitants were his to observe. Just as you had been. Now you understood. It hurt your head too much to think about it – your mind still was unable to fully comprehend, but you knew now. Everything was known.

And, Corbeau loved you. His adoration was unwavering. You had been the only human to hold his heart in your palm. All you needed to do was clutch it.