82 - Plushy (3.4k words)

YaYa's POV

I gritted my teeth, concentrating on my muscles and tissues. I imagined each fiber and tendon, directed my cells, aligning their sequences with the code in the exoskeleton.

The last time I tried to take off something similar with force, it activated a series of bombs planted in various places, which exploded, killing thousands.

My body became a tool for decoding, with blood cells carrying instructions and tissues responding to my commands. Slowly, the exoskeleton began to unlock, and the tension in my spine eased as I progressed.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I sent the last sequence. There was a brief moment of silence, then a series of clicks. The exoskeleton released its hold and fell with a clatter.

I lay on my stomach, breathing heavily. I felt tired, exhausted, drained. It was as if I had used my last ounce of strength and couldn't do anything but breathe.

I heard many sighs of relief, followed by cold and warm kisses on my back.

My eyelids weighed heavily. I could barely lift them, yet I tried.

The tent was big enough to fit a dozen people, and its walls were lined with furs. It was built on a wooden platform, slightly elevated from the ground, and its floor was covered in animal pelts.

Vick, Curtis, Gold and Muir sat on my right, barely breathing, afraid to interrupt me but reluctant to leave my side.

The sight of their tear-stained cheeks and red-rimmed eyes made my heart clench. Their tears didn't make them seem weak. You can't expect men who loved so much, so deeply, so strongly, to not break down and cry when their hearts were breaking. Their emotions were raw, pure, and unfiltered, and I couldn't help but be affected by them.

My eyelids closed. My breath slowed, "Get some rest," I said.

Vick's fingers touched mine, running over the back of my hand, feeling my palm, and tracing the lines on the surface. He distributed work to others, his voice calm and confident.

I was topless, my back covered only with a thin cloth, which was wet and clung to my body. Someone gently peeled it away, then another, a lot more tender, began cleaning the sweat on my skin and the swellings left by the exoskeleton, probably Curtis.

Gold washed my hair while Muir changed the bedsheets and called out for Bart to bring in warm water. They moved slowly, careful not to make noise and disturb me.

Bart had been reheating the water, watching the tent from the outside.

I closed my eyes and tried to contact Skaris again. As usual, there was no answer, no reply. His spousal imprint was still intact, but the link was cut off. My stomach twisted into a tight knot. Did the world really need to test him so much? What more did he have to endure?

· · ─────── · ⊱❈⊰· ─────── · ·

After a few hours, I opened my eyes. The trio rested at whether free spot they could find close to me. They looked worn out and tired, not to mention stressed.

The only one awake was Gold, watching over us from afar. His face was hard, his lips pressed tightly as he watched me.

I reached out to him, and he immediately kneeled beside me, placing my hand against his cheek.

"Are you going to be this grumpy during sex too?" I asked, my thumb rubbing against his cheek, "Don't blame me if I can't get excited," I teased.

Gold coughed, his face turning red. His eyes darted away from me, and he tried to remove my hand, but I wouldn't let him. "You haven't recovered; rest first," he scolded, his eyes avoiding mine, "We'll talk about it when you've recovered."

"Oh, so you admit you want to fuck me?"

Gold choked on his saliva, his face turning beet red. "I'll get you some food," he said, leaving the tent without another word.

That should keep his thoughts occupied with something pleasant and fun for a while, I thought.

I glanced at the sleeping trio. I ruffled their hair, giving them a few good strokes. I should build myself a few prosthetic limbs. There were too many sensory enjoyments and not enough hands to go around.

"Sweetheart, you're awake." Curtis smiled, his fingers caressing the side of my face.

Muir's ears twitched, his eyes peeking open, looking at me with a cute drowsy look.

They didn't waste any time crawling to my side, their hands finding their way to me. Their movements were drowsy, but they still managed to give me a good cuddle.

I never thought I would get used to falling asleep with a pile of men on top of me. Their weight created a nice sense of pressure on my body. It was as if the world had narrowed down to the space between our bodies, and there was no pain, no fear, no loneliness, only us, together.

The mermen were taking care of the cubs, but we should still return as soon as possible. They must have been missing their Papas and their routine.

Skaris' image was still haunting me, his voice echoing through my head, calling for me. I used it to strengthen our bond, to break whether barrier was blocking our connection. Our feelings, our desires, our longing, anything that connected us.

To target my favorite pup to make me succumb to your demands?

You've done a poor job of researching my weaknesses.

That boy is my strength, my pride, and my greatest treasure.

I picked up the gastropod and waited for it to activate, a scoff playing on my lips. "Enjoy the show, Father."

· · ─────── · ⊱❈⊰· ─────── · ·

CEE's POV

I rushed toward the Emperor's office, the floor crumbling under my feet. I leaped through the hallway, passing through the corridor in one leap. The structure within the hill creaked and groaned, the ceiling crashing down, the walls collapsing. I landed on the floor, my body rolling forward, sliding into the Emperor's office.

My eyes darted to the table, the sofa, and the desk, "Your Imperial Majesty, we should evacuate."

The Emperor stood behind the table, staring at one of the destroyed screens, his back turned towards me.

"Your Imperial Majesty," I grabbed him outside his office, "We have to get out of here. The place is going to collapse."

The Emperor's expression was calm and cold as I teleported us out of the snowy hills. The moment we landed outside, a loud boom sounded, followed by a series of explosions, the heat blowing toward us. A cloud of dust rose.

He stared at the ruins, his face a mask. His gaze lingered there, unmoving.

The base where he had spent most of his time, his office, laboratory, and collection of artifacts and books, was gone.

Yet, his expression was as if he was watching an ant die, or a bug burning to death, not the destruction of his wealth. It wasn't his only base, but it was his favorite.

The Emperor turned, looking at the small device in his hand. He held it between his thumb and index finger, staring at it as if the fate of the world was resting on its surface.

"I'll go and investigate," I volunteered.

"No," he replied in a chillingly calm voice, "It was those slaves my daughter took in."

My eyes widened, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. Her Highness's step sisters? They were being monitored twenty-four seven. They didn't have any chances to take action. Unless, Her Highness had helped them somehow. But the only time they were in contact was during their death matches.

I've never met Her Highness's familiars. They were always sleeping inside her stepsisters. They were also the only reason His Imperial Majesty kept her stepsisters by his side. He would have disposed of them a long time ago if they didn't carry his daughter's legacy inside of them.

I swallowed. My mouth felt dry when I saw her figure approaching us. Her Highness looked majestic, with a beautiful fur coat draped over her shoulders and a red scarf wrapped around her neck, hiding her jaw and mouth. She showed up two weeks before the one-month time limit. Usually, we would have to drag her back with force.

"Are you not afraid of the blast killing your pup?" The Emperor mused. A shiver went down my spine. His tone was calm and composed, but the air turned heavy, dense, and oppressive. The sky darkened. It was as if his anger was causing the sun itself to retreat. "Why wait until now?"

"How was it?" Her Highness leaned against the nearby tree, ignoring his question, "Did you pretend it was me sucking you off, or did you like the fact that a part of your daughter was kneeling in front of you? You want me, Father, don't you? Your cock is always hard for me, isn't it? How come I'm not a slut for your seed yet, Father? Oh wait, you've tried, haven't you, Father?"

My heart raced. This was not a conversation I should hear. I was about to teleport away when I felt an invisible force wrapping around my neck, crushing my throat, blocking the blood from flowing.

· · ─────── · ⊱❈⊰· ─────── · ·

I blacked out, and when I woke up, I no longer remembered the conversation between His Imperial Majesty and Her Highness. I wouldn't have known there were any if not for Her Highness casually sitting on His Imperial Majesty's desk.

Did we move to another one of his secret bases during my absence?

I cleared my throat, quickly kneeling on the ground, "Your Highness."

"CEE, how is my Plushy?" she asked, "Did you treat him nicely, or did you beat him?"

I quickly roamed my hands over my pockets, pulling a bear teddy out of my tactical vest, "I treated him as best as I could," I said, presenting him to her, "But His Imperial Majesty didn't want me to spoil him too much. I'm afraid I haven't fulfilled your requirements, Your Highness."

She took the bear, "I'll have Curtis sew it a few outfits," she said, placing the teddy on her shoulders, "The old uniform no longer fits it."

I looked at her more closely. Her outfit looked like she had just returned from a trip to an oriental country, "What about his Imperial Majesty?"

"I blew him up," she said.

"Ah." I paused, "..."

I had nothing else to say. I couldn't understand her humor, and even if I did, it wouldn't be wise or appropriate for me to joke about His Imperial Majesty. I decided not to say anything and waited for her to elaborate.

"You're not curious?" she asked.

"I am," I replied honestly.

"Then ask."

"How did you blow him up, Your Highness?"

"I set off a bomb inside his ass."

"His ass?"

"Yes."

"Did he feel anything?"

"Nothing, it was a clean, instant, death."

"Ah," I paused again, "..."

The door to the office opened, and His Imperial Majesty strode in, "You brat! Get your ass here right now! I'll kill you!" he roared, "You grew balls to kidnap CEE and ask for a dog in exchange? Do you think you can negotiate with me after destroying my favorite base?!"

I expected Her Highness to shudder, her knees to weaken, or her hands to tremble in his presence.

Instead, she hopped off the desk, the teddy bear bouncing on her shoulder, "Give me a second, CEE," she said, placing the teddy on my shoulders, "I have a father to murder."

His Imperial Majesty chased her around the office, shooting bloody murder and swearing. I was still standing in the middle of the room, trying to comprehend what was happening. They kicked and punched, threw things at each other, and made a lot of noise.

His Imperial Majesty killed a lot of people dear to Her Highness and threatened her in the cruelest way possible. He had never experienced losing something he valued, or having his power taken from him. But the day he lost his daughter's care and respect was the day he began to experience both. He knew he would never receive her forgiveness, but he still tried to get her back, in his twisted way.

"How was your vacation?"

"Too short."

"Any problems?"

"None."

"Did you enjoy yourself?"

"Yes."

"Do you need anything?

"Return Skaris to me."

"Forget it. You're not getting him back."

"Give him back, or I'll blow up your whole empire."

"Blow it up then. I can rebuild it after l kill everyone you love, starting with those mutts and ending with that pup. Then, I'll blow up the planet myself."

"Go ahead, I'm already prepared for that situation. You can't threaten me with the same thing over and over and not expect me to learn and adapt. I haven't started my sex life after you fucked me up just for you to fuck me up again. So, try again, old man."

"..."

"..."

The Emperor hit the wall, missing her head by a few inches. The stone wall crumbled, shaking the whole place.

She scoffed, "What, no comeback? Too busy jerking off to my videos with my fucking stalker?"

I covered my ears. What came next was a blur. Their figures became a mass of colors as they moved. Punches and kicks were thrown, and a lot of blood splattered on the floor, walls, and ceiling.

I would rather face the emperor's army by myself, than deal with one mad, vengeful Princess. She was barely seven years old when the Emperor ripped up her Plushy, and she retaliated by ripping apart one of his puppet kings.

He didn't understand the importance of her Plushy and didn't know why she loved it so much when he could get her another one that looked exactly the same. He tried everything in his power to make her forget about it, but it only made her cling to it more.

By the end, the Emperor found himself performing surgery on a toy with his daughter. They put the pieces back together and restored it to its former glory.

It was a cute and heartwarming moment if not for the fact that the Emperor was the one performing the surgery, and the Princess was watching, holding a laser gun, ready to blow up his head the moment he failed.

God forbid if his Imperial Majesty cut a major nerve that could not be restored, and risked the Plushy's soul fading away.

"No, no, no, not that one, stuff it with this piece next," the Princess said.

"How is it different?" the Emperor grumbled as he removed the stuffing. "They all look the same. What's wrong with this one?"

"That one is too thick. This one is thinner, and it's better for its eyes. The last thing I want is for Plushy to have a lazy eye."

"What in the world is a lazy eye?" he asked, rolling his eyes in a way I could only describe as lazy. It was slow and fed up, kind of an eye roll, "This one, is this good?"

"Yes, that's it."

"Good. Now, stop talking, I can't concentrate."

"If Plushy dies, you die," she warned with a big gun in her tiny hand.

"Shut up, I'm working on your beloved."

I chuckled at the memory. I had a lot of fun spending time with them and also Plushy. It was as if Her Highness really gave it a soul, and it became a part of the family. Even the Emperor would talk to it sometimes.

If only the Emperor hadn't expected Her Highness to repay him with whatever favor he had given her and had only done it because he genuinely wanted to see her happy, their relationship might have been salvaged.

He knew how to put on a facade to trick other people into liking him, but he could never hide from his own child. She saw through his fake smiles, pleasant conversations, lies and deception, false promises, and empty words.

Despite his flaws and mistakes, she still liked to spend time with her father, coming up with new games and adventures, making memories that would last forever. They became even "closer" when she grew up to be a stunning young lady, and her Father appointed her as the General of the Imperial Army.

When did everything start to go wrong? One day, she didn't want him anywhere near her. It was the first time I saw fear in Her Highness's eyes. It wasn't fear of the unknown, nor fear of the future, or of the pain. It was fear of the person that was the closest to her.

The strange bond that once connected them snapped. All the things she was willing to overlook were no longer tolerable.

It wasn't his cruelty, his abuse, or his lack of empathy. They were both used to hurting each other physically and mentally, like a father-daughter duo of villains.

They grew even further apart when the Emperor began suppressing her growth and strength. The nurture he put her through, the education, the training, and the opportunities he had given her changed into shackles that restrained her from reaching her true potential.

He began to go against his own teachings, his own philosophy, his own standards, his own values, his own beliefs, and everything he stood for, just to see her crawl back to him and beg him to save her. He destroyed her wings and forced her to crawl like a worm, unable to fly.

He would assign her impossible missions and send her to the battlefield without preparation, equipment, or a plan, just to watch her struggle and fail.

The emperor wasn't afraid of losing his wealth or his empire, of betrayal, or of his people abandoning him. He was not human; his source of happiness wasn't his wealth, status, power, or reputation.

It was just his way of passing time, a pastime hobby, something that entertained him. It wasn't a purpose, a cause, or a desire. He was just like the universe, indifferent to the existence of everything else.

His kind didn't need to reproduce and pass on their bloodlines. They didn't need to leave a legacy behind because they could live forever.

But they still did.

Out of boredom, curiosity.

Or just for the sake of doing it.

The Emperor would give away his riches, gold, treasures, and servants and take them back, just to see what would happen.

Just to see who would betray him and who would remain loyal.

It was a game to him, an experiment, a test.

He would play God, the devil, and the savior, and observe the outcome.

He would destroy his own empire just to have an excuse to rebuild it from the ashes.

Just as a person would break a chicken egg and see what was inside.

Like many others, Her Highness inherited this trait from her father, but their methods were different. The Emperor would destroy the egg to satisfy his curiosity, while Her Highness would want the chicken egg to hatch into a dragon.

She definitely took more after her father than anyone would care to admit, but there was also something of her mother's in her. Her mother's arrogance and recklessness were iconic, and Her Highness had inherited both.

With the arrival of Her Highness, his Imperial Majesty began to change. He became selfish, greedy, and controlling, just like a human being. He was no longer a carefree, aloof Emperor I used to know.

He would get jealous, angry, frustrated, and would lash out at the slightest things.

He would get drunk and act like a lunatic, then blame his actions on his daughter.

He would become the worst version of himself, the side that not even he was aware of.

Her Highness was no longer his source of entertainment.

She was his curse.

A curse he didn't want to lift.

A curse he wouldn't dare get rid of.

A curse that made him feel alive.

That forced him to live.

To survive.

To fight.

And to struggle.

╔═══ Author's note ════╗

This is probably not the character growth we were all looking for from YY, but I want to keep her consistent. She is fighting the deep seated fear of her father, and no longer wants to just put a strong facade before him.

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