Content Warning:

This arc contains depictions of toxic relationships, emotional abuse, manipulation, cycles of abuse, drugging (love potions/ spells), physical torment, and psychological trauma, implied sexual content, Please proceed with caution if these themes may be triggering for you. Your well-being comes first.


The morning began with tension simmering beneath the surface. Anagan tried to maintain his composure as he and Ogron prepared for their journey to Earth. The king hovered over him, dictating every detail. From what Anagan ate to the amount, Ogron controlled it all. He even chose the items Anagan would take, as though Anagan's pride and autonomy were inconsequential.

By 11 AM, Anagan was at his breaking point. The pet names, the constant coddling, the suffocating chain around his neck—it all grated on his nerves. He clenched his fists, barely able to contain the frustration bubbling inside him.

Ogron was packing for him in Anagan's chambers, his voice a constant murmur in the background. Anagan's mind drifted, his attention drawn inward as the weight of everything pressed down on him. It was too much.

"Ana? Are you paying attention?" Ogron's voice broke through the haze of his thoughts.

"Please —can you just, just call me by my name," Anagan replied, his tone sharper than intended. The words were laced with irritation, and Ogron's reaction was immediate. The king's expression darkened, his eyes narrowing as he processed the disrespect.

"Excuse me?" Ogron's voice was cold, a cutting edge to his words. "I must've missed the part of the day where we decided to have poor attitudes. Let's try that again, but this time, fix your tone—"

"I am not a child!" Anagan's voice came out louder than expected, echoing in the room. The moment the words left his lips, he realized his mistake. Ogron's face twisted into something dark, dangerous.

Ogron inhaled sharply, his voice unnervingly calm. "Little rabbit," he began, stepping closer with deliberate slowness. "I'm going to give you just one chance to apologize and try again."

Anagan's heart pounded in his chest. He didn't want to apologize, but Ogron's presence was overwhelming. The king reached out, his fingers brushing Anagan's cheek with deceptive gentleness. "I'm waiting, little rabbit. Don't test me."

Anagan hesitated, his mind racing. "Ogron, please… just call me Anagan," he whispered, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice.

The king's eyes flashed with something dark. "So now you're giving me orders?" Ogron's voice was low, dangerously soft. He leaned in closer, his lips grazing Anagan's ear. "You seem to have forgotten your place, little rabbit."

. . .

The slap wasn't hard, more of a reflexive tap of someone frightened. But Ogron's reaction was immediate. His grip tightened on Anagan's hands, and his lips curled into an irritated smile. "How dare you," he hissed, his voice laced with menace.

Before Anagan could react, he was yanked forward, dragged down the hall as he stumbled to keep up. "Ogron, please—stop, just listen to me!" His pleas fell on deaf ears as Ogron shoved him into the king's quarters, slamming the door shut and locking it with a resounding click.

Ogron began to pace the room, his anger palpable. "Ogron, please, I didn't mean to—" Anagan started, but his words were cut off by the sharp sting of a slap across his face.

"Didn't mean to?" Ogron echoed, his voice mocking. "Oh, so now you want to talk with your words? After you've disrespected me?" He hovered over Anagan, his expression unreadable, a mixture of fury and something more sinister.

" I didn't—" Anagan tried again, but another slap sent him stumbling backward. His cheek burned from the impact, and fear twisted in his gut.

"I have been gentle. I have been kind. I have been loving," Ogron spat, each word dripping with venom. "And you— I have spoiled you. It would seem that I had led you to believe that we communicate with our hands. Do we communicate with our hands little rabbit? Do we!?"

Anagan felt his throat tighten, his heart pounding in his chest. He searched for words, anything to defuse the situation, but his voice failed him. The silence only seemed to infuriate Ogron further. The king grabbed the chain around Anagan's neck, yanking him closer.

"Answer. me," Ogron demanded, his breath hot against Anagan's face. The chain bit into his skin as tears welled in Anagan's eyes, fear and confusion swirling inside him. He stammered out incoherent apologies, his body trembling under the weight of Ogron's anger.

Ogron's jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing. "Do you think you're above me, Ana? Do you think you're more than just a pet I've allowed to play at being my equal?" His voice was low, every word calculated to cut deep.

"N-No, Ogron, I don't… I never…" Anagan's words faltered as he choked on his fear. The king's grip on the chain loosened, but only slightly, enough to remind Anagan who held the power.

"Good," Ogron murmured, his tone softening just enough to be unsettling. He leaned in, his lips brushing against Anagan's ear as he whispered, "Remember your place, little rabbit. You exist because I allow it."

Anagan's tears spilled over, silent sobs wracking his body. He was pulled into a tight embrace, Ogron's hand stroking his hair in a mockery of comfort. "Shh, shh… it's all right," Ogron cooed, his voice dripping with false tenderness. "I know you didn't mean it. You're just overwhelmed, aren't you?"

Anagan clung to him, the warmth of the embrace a bitter solace. His face stung from the slaps, but the familiarity of Ogron's touch was something he couldn't resist, something he leaned into despite the pain. He nodded weakly, his voice barely a whisper. "I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…"

Ogron pulled back slightly, his expression softer but still serious. "Perhaps… we should take a moment to calm ourselves," he suggested, his tone gentle but devoid of warmth. Anagan could hardly react as he was ushered to his own room by a servant, the door closing behind him with a finality that felt suffocating.

Alone in his chambers, Anagan collapsed onto his bed, tears flowing freely. Everything felt like it was closing in on him—the chain around his neck, the fear gnawing at his heart, the overwhelming realization that he had crossed a line. However, this realization was not about the confrontation, but rather how he had exposed himself to this man in ways he couldn't take back.

———-

Ogron's hands moved restlessly through the contents of the medicine cabinet, his fingers brushing over vials and bottles until he found what he was looking for. The anger that had clouded his mind earlier had given way to cold calculation. Losing Anagan to such a trivial disagreement was not an option, and he was prepared to do whatever it took to keep his little rabbit in his grasp.

————-

The door to Anagan's chambers creaked open, and Ogron's heavy boots echoed against the floor. Anagan, curled beneath the blankets, flinched at the sound, instinctively pulling the covers higher as if they could shield him from the king's presence.

"Ana?" Ogron's voice was gentle, deceptively so, wrapping around Anagan's heart like a velvet chain. Anagan couldn't help but react, the tension in his body easing just slightly at the familiar sound.

"Ana, darling, I want to talk about this…" Ogron's tone softened, becoming almost tender. "My behavior was absolutely disgusting to you, little rabbit. I am so sorry."

Anagan's ears perked up at the apology, though he didn't dare emerge from his cocoon of blankets. Was Ogron truly apologizing? The idea brought a flicker of hope to his weary heart. Ogron sighed, a heavy sound filled with supposed regret.

"I was too strict with you. I was scared of losing you, and though we both may have lost our control over our emotions, what I did was unacceptable… I'll leave if you'd like—"

Before he could finish, Anagan threw off the blankets and wrapped himself around Ogron, his sobs muffled against the king's lap. The words of apology, the tone of remorse—it was all too much. Ogron's hands cradled Anagan's head, his fingers gently threading through his hair, each touch a calculated move to soothe and bind.

"Hush, little rabbit, it's alright," Ogron murmured, his voice a lullaby of sweet words and deceptive comfort. "You're safe now. I'm here."

Anagan's sobs began to quiet, though the tightness in his chest remained. Ogron's embrace, which once brought solace, now felt suffocating, like a net tightening around him. But in this moment, Anagan clung to the comfort, desperate for the love that Ogron promised.

Ogron tilted Anagan's face upwards, brushing away his tears with a tenderness that seemed almost genuine. "I'm so sorry, Ana. Can you ever forgive me?"

Before Anagan could answer, Ogron leaned in, pressing his lips to Anagan's in a kiss that was soft, yet laced with a powerful need for possession. But as their lips met, Anagan felt a strange warmth spreading through him—a warmth that was both comforting and unsettling, as though his very being was melting into Ogron's embrace. The kiss was intoxicating, sending a rush of heat and dizzying euphoria through him, making it difficult to think, to remember anything but the feeling of Ogron's lips against his own.

For a brief moment, everything else—the fear, the doubt, the pain—faded away, leaving only the warmth and the overwhelming sense of belonging.

Ogron pulled back slightly, his eyes filled with a softness that Anagan couldn't resist. "I love you, Ana," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I love you so much."

Anagan nodded, too overwhelmed to speak. The warmth of the kiss lingered, spreading through his veins like a balm, easing the ache in his heart. But deep down, buried beneath the layers of comfort and affection, a small, nagging voice whispered that something was wrong.

Ogron's smile was serene, but his eyes gleamed with triumph as he held Anagan close, his fingers tracing the curve of his jaw. "Everything will be alright, little rabbit. I'll take care of you, as I always have."

As Anagan leaned into the king's embrace, seeking solace in the warmth and the words, the flicker of doubt was smothered by the intoxicating euphoria that lingered from the kiss. He wanted to believe Ogron's words, wanted to trust in the love that was promised to him. But in the back of his mind, a small part of him couldn't shake the feeling that this love, this warmth, was laced with something far more sinister.

And as Ogron held him, his thoughts turned to the vial now hidden away, its contents already seeping into Anagan's heart with every lingering touch, every whispered word of love.