#Unwanted Siblings au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

qierxing · 1 year

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A/N: An interpreted continuation of @shiny-jr wonderful fic. This is one of the longest fics I’ve written…..carried by my love for Heartslabyul. Been chipping away at this every so often until now. I would strongly recommend reading Shiny’s part first, or else a good part of this will not make sense. Part two will be something that will be floating in the future.

TW/CW: Graphic descriptions of PTSD & panic attack symptoms, self-harm from bad coping habits, dissociation, dismemberment, references to Alice in Wonderland, made up lore LOL

I. II. | Isekai AU | Yan! Heartslabyul x Reader

"So she sat on, with closed eyes, and half believed herself in Wonderland, though she knew she had but to open them again, and all would change to dull reality…"

– Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, by Lewis Caroll

i. Cremation

Ramshackle's mailbox is a pitiful thing.

It sits right in front of the small graveyard near forgotten covered in tangled vines and weeds. Unlike its surroundings which shine from recent renovations and repairs, the hinges still squeak loudly when the latch is opened and the outer parts are scratched and dented. On bright sunny days, it sticks out like a sore thumb.

And today, it's even more obvious.

The box now is in danger of tilting off its support pole, filled with the weight of lumpy letters, spilling out envelopes upon the dirt. Around it sits various colorful wrapped boxes and packages that are piled haphazardly across each other. You swear it gets larger each passing day.

“How many does this make?”

A battered top hat pops into existence next to you, one of the resident Ramshackle ghosts who's been helping you around lately. (He had said you remind him of his siblings when he was alive. You're still unsure whether that was a good or bad thing.)

You let out a sigh through your nose. There's nothing to say about the situation in front of you. You wish they could disappear the minute you wish for it, yet the colorful wrappings and the various envelopes scattered around your feet don’t vanish the more you stare.

“I’m really sorry about all this.”

The ghost shakes his head, frowning at your apology.

“It’s not your fault, prefect.”

The words are reassuring, but they don’t make the gross feeling go away when you crouch down and start picking up letters that have fallen out of the mailbox.

From: Azul Ashengrotto

Sender: Vil Schoenheit

Sent by: Riddle Rosehearts

All of them are addressed to you, of course. You can already imagine their contents: filled to the brim with regret and guilt, blotted words begging for forgiveness for the wrongs they’ve done. When you told the Headmaster that you didn’t want anyone visiting Ramshackle, that wasn’t an invitation for them to flood you with unwanted mail. Then again, perhaps you should have foreseen that they would do this. All of them are stubborn to a fault. It wasn't like your phone was any better until you’ve blocked all numbers making it go off endlessly like a shrieking parrot.

The resulting letters alone are thick enough to rival the textbooks Professor Trein assigns students. Pressing your lips together, you turn around to start heading back to your temporary home.The rest of the bulky packages can wait. The ghost helps swing the door open and Grim perks up from his seat in the living room as you set down the letters.

“Grim, can you get a fire going?”

“Now?”

He eyes the thick pile of letters with wary slit pupils and asks, “Aren’t ya…gonna read ‘em?”

You did. For the first few ones, at least. They were barely discernible, their apologies blurring by as they begged for your grace and mercy. That they would do anything to right their wrongs. If you didn’t know any better, you would say their reverence was akin to a cult.

It makes your skin crawl.

After that, you stopped bothering to even skim through. What is the point of continuing to make sense of lunatics? Of cruel games and intrepid players?

"We have the wood, and the house is a bit chilly, so why not?" You reply. Grim scrunches his eyebrows but doesn't object as heavy wooden logs are dumped into the grate. He takes a deep breath and blows upon the letters scattered on the wood, encasing everything in familiar neon blue flames.

You settle into the armchair next to Grim, staring into flickering blue flames. Grim curls up next to you, purring contentedly. All too easily, your eyes lull close to the sound of crackling flames consuming paper.

–

When you step out onto the front porch the next morning, you're overtaken by an overwhelming fragrance.

There's crimson red petals floating through the air. Fluttering in the crisp morning wind, they fall in your hair and the rest end up crushed under your feet. You'd feel bad if it wasn't so pungent; the very air feels like it's infused with the scent of roses.

Your nose crinkles as you pick up the impossibly huge bouquet that is wrapped in silk and ribbons. It's certainly beautiful, you'll give it that. Yet this scent doesn't bring back good memories. It only brings vivid flashbacks of being lost among rose bushes, covered in dirt and scratches, trying so frantically to find a way out. When every single crack and snap was a possible life threat.

You don't realize you're crushing the bouquet until something trickles down your fingers. It doesn't feel like blood pooling between your skin. Relaxing your grip ever so slightly, you find pin sharp thorns running down the stems where you were gripping. The fleshy meat of your palm is punctured cleanly in the shapes of the thorns. Was it left unclipped on purpose?

The card is the next thing you find with bloodied fingers, rumpling white cardstock and soiling it without a care.

To our beloved player,

We deeply apologize for the pain we have caused you and beg for your forgiveness. We will make sure to atone for our sins of harming you.

The initial and the bouquet is too obvious of who it's from. Riddle must've penned it, because none of the card soldiers would ever write this formally. But it must've been Cater's idea to send the bouquet–Trey nor Riddle would've come up with such a sentimental and sappy idea. And Ace and Deuce would rather die than do such a cringey thing.

The door opens again behind you. You turn to see a half-awake Grim groggily yawning. He stops once his blue eyes land on the bouquet in your hands.

"Whazz that?" He points a paw at the rumpled roses, and you hastily shove them behind your back.

"Nothing." You say.

Grim makes a face before finally breaking the awkward silence with, "Do ya want me to go tell 'em off–"

"No."

The answer is rushed and makes Grim's eyes widen. It's crazy, you know. But to have Grim try to solve the problem for you doesn't sit well with you. It's not like it's his fault for what you went through.

And maybe, deep down, you couldn't bear the thought of telling them nasty insults and curses to make them hate you more.

"I'll take care of it." You add, trying to reassure Grim, who only stares impassively. He shakes his head.

"Am I making another fire?"

"...if you can, please."

ii. The Morgue

It’s been a couple of weeks since you’ve been brought to Twisted Wonderland.

Yuu’s…body has been moved to another room. It freaks you out more than you would like to admit. It’s familiar, yet it’s not. It’s carved to your image, but with none of your personality. There’s something wrong with the way its eyes are tilted, the dip of its cheeks, the curve of the chin. An idealistic, dreamy mirror of yourself.

Still. You’ve seen many dolls in your lifetime, and even you cannot deny the life like artisanship. The seams of the joints are cleverly hidden and the skin is smooth and unfettered without any misshapen resin(or clay?)–these are marks of a true doll-maker.

“It’s your vessel.” Grim had said with a matter of fact tone. As if you weren't looking at an unmoving human body. “Everyone was freakin’ out cuz’ it just shut down outta nowhere.”

It must’ve been because you were brought here at that moment. The hypothesis doesn’t really make you feel any better. You should know better than to blame an inanimate shell of a vessel, but...

You jerk awake, cold sweat running down your neck and face. It takes a second for you to realize you're not being encased in burning scarlet flames and it's not claustrophobic verdant green hedges surrounding you. The bed sheets are tangled, wrapped in a chokehold around your legs and torso. Instead of translucent leaves, the bed canopy curtain shields you from the moonlight pouring in. The soft snores of Grim sync with your ragged breaths in time.

Tonight's nightmare had been recurring for a while. Every single time you thought you had shaken it off, it comes back like a bad omen.

Instinctively, your hand runs over the bumpy raise of scars running down your back and neck. Most of them had faded with magical treatment and time, but there are some that still have rough skin that has hardened like scales on a dragon.

Your fingertips curve inward and dig.

You thought you were safe. The rose maze is large and encompassing: hiding would be the best move. You breath in–

– and you were face to face with the Crimson Tyrant himself.

His face contains no humanity, his eyes only reflect dark, dark anger and resentment. You thought you were staring into a never ending abyss. Something inky black catches your eye, and you realize with horror that blot is trapping your feet and leaving stains upon your skin.

"Stop right there, imposter!"

Your nails scrabble at the bumps and raises, tearing through them with obsessive speed. Faster, faster–it doesn't feel right, you have to scrub your skin clean of those foreign textures.

Adrenaline is the only thing keeping your legs from collapsing to the blot climbing its way up. You have to do something–

–something wraps around your neck and torso, and all air leaves you as it squeezes and knife sharp needles gnaw into bone.

Your breathing grows more hoarse as your nails scratch faster and faster, desperate to remove more of those vile clumps of impurities.

"You will suffer as Yuu did." The verdict is declared with deranged gleeful vengeance. The tyrant points his scepter at your fallen body covered in thorny vines reminiscent of roses. Blot swallows your form and screams whole–

It's only when the familiar smell of iron registers in your mind, that you finally snap back to your senses. When you finally draw your hand back to view, it's covered in clotted blood and torn skin, both dead and fresh, all clogged under your nails. The open cold air now makes your neck and back sting sharply as blood trickles out of reopened wounds.

It's with a heavy heart that you quietly leave the bedroom entirely to wash away the blood in the kitchen sink. Crimson dyes the white ceramic for a brief moment before swirling away down the drain.

The wounds sting and ache, but you can barely be bothered to tend to them as you resign yourself to the living room couch with a thin blanket. You think of Grim sleeping unaware upstairs and close your eyes. The old weathered grandfather clock in the corner ticks on and on with each second.

No, you can't blame a puppet for functioning for its purpose.

But you could tear its limbs out of its sockets so it could never walk anywhere again. If you plucked out its fingers and eyes, it wouldn't be able to find its way around anymore. Sewing the mouth shut would seal the deal.

Then it would truly know how it felt to have no choice.

–

Working as Sam's assistant helps take the mind off things. Crowley had begged you to resume classes as Grim's 'beast tamer', but something in you screamed at the thought of having to shed your feelings aside to return to what normalcy was. As if this world didn't run on the giant malicious cogwheels of fate and lines of code.

How painfully obvious it is that your mere presence is just a substitute.

"Ah!"

You look up from sorting products on the shelves to a surprised looking Riddle Rosehearts. No no no no–

You take in his sunken gray eyes and pale skin, before going back to shelving products. It takes strength to play dumb. Your shaking hands betray the fear growing within as they sort through stationary merchandise. Finally, the products are lined up neatly and you're trying to bustle away as quickly as you can–

"W-wait!" You try to ignore the half whispered plea, moving behind the counter with an unnatural speed.

"Please, wait, I need something!" You do stop, because unfortunately, you can't completely ignore a customer in need. So you take a deep breath and grit your teeth, turning around with a polite smile. Stare straight ahead. Think not of smoldering flames and knife like rose thorns–

"What can I help you with?" He stares into your eyes, frantic and desperate. It's clear with the way his mouth opens and closes that he wasn't sure how to continue his case.

"If you aren't sure, take your time to browse, dear customer." The grin was starting to wear on your cheeks already with how much you struggle to keep it in place.

Please just leave, you internally beg. You settle behind the counter, watching as Riddle bows his head and disappears among the shelves for his items. A tired sigh leaves your nose.

Your hands keep shaking no matter how hard you clench and unclench them.

He can't hurt me here.

Sam is just a yell away and there's mace and a knife in your bag underneath the counter.

It'll be fine. It's not the Tyrant.

A clink of glass catches your attention, as some ink bottles are pushed on the counter.

"I've finished." Riddle's smoldering eyes choke you under their hues.

"I'll ring that up, then."

The exchange happens quietly yet as you hand him the bottles, he pauses, looking down. "What happened to your hand?"

Shit. There were still obvious swollen scratches and puncture holes imprinted on your hand. You completely forgot about bandages after Grim caught you with the bouquet the other day. You quickly hide your hand in your pocket. "I don't know what you're talking about."

He seems to want to say more, but is cut off when someone else comes up behind him, waiting to pay for their items. He only swallows hard and nods, setting out with only a guilty look back.

You finally breathe out a long sigh of relief when the door chimes echo behind him.

"That'll be ten thaumarks and thirty madols."

This is the fifth time Riddle's shown up during your shift and bought ink. This time, it's a deep crimson color not unlike the shade that saturates his dorm. It reminds you of torn skin on nails from that night, and it takes a minute to shake those thoughts off as you pick up the bottles.

"Prefect, could I talk to you after your shift ends?" You turn to fix him with an incredulous stare, and he grimaces.

"I promise I won't harm you! Did you not get our letters?" But how can I trust you? On this cracked chessboard you are forced to play upon, you don't know where to place Riddle at all. He is too much of an unstable bomb that could blow up in your face at the wrong impression.

"Fine." He definitely won't back down until you agree to hear him out, and it's best to let him state his case once and for all. "My shift ends in an hour. I'll meet you outside."

"Excellent. I shall wait for you then, prefect." He takes his bag and leaves with a small bow.

The time passes all too quickly. Sam shoos you out before you can try to coax some overtime hours from him. And much to your annoyance, Riddle is waiting for you promptly as you step outside.

He looks nervous as he bows his head in acknowledgement of your presence. You'd almost feel bad, if it weren't for the fact that he nearly beheaded you at first sight.

"Have you received our recent letter and flowers?" A long silence follows, before you reluctantly nod. Your hand throbs as you open and close it out of habit. You just removed the bandages this morning, but the unbearable itch to reopen the scars is too tempting. Steel eyes are immediately drawn to the movement. "I see. Then I won't drag this out. Prefect, could we prove to you our sincerity to make amends?"

"What do you mean?"

"Exactly as I said. Please let our dorm express to you our sincerity to mend our relationship." The intensity of his eyes makes you sick to your stomach.

"You've apologized enough, Housewarden Rosehearts. I'm sure your card soldiers have too." Subconsciously, your hand drifts toward your neck.

He winces. No doubt it must be a sting to his pride that his numerous penned letters weren't acknowledged. "It's not just about apologies. We want to start over–turn over a new leaf, if you will, for our relationship. It would be a disgrace to the Queen of Hearts herself if I could not atone for what I've done."

Always with the rules. You're not entirely sure what Riddle means when he says 'mending your relationship', but it seems he's already set his mind to it. It would be hard pressing to get him to change his mind now.

"...sure." You reluctantly acquiesce. The tips of your nails brush against scarred skin before drawing back. You shouldn't. It took so long for the wounds to close again, for sinew to piece itself together, and for skin to finally grow back. You don't want another lecture by Crewel or Trein.

He brightens considerably with a look of relief. "Good. Then, please wait for our call."

You watch in confusion as he trots off hurriedly after another deep bow. Wait for our call? What does that–

Something buzzes, and you realize it's your phone, lighting up with a notification from Magicam. You frown, tapping on the icon. A message?

cay4cay sent a message request

The second you processed the username and profile picture, you instantly hit the block button. With a frustrated scowl, you shove the phone into your pocket. You deleted Yuu's account and only had a burner account for info purposes. How the hell did that social butterfly find your handle?

You groan. This is all too much.

iii. Paying Respects

A letter arrives, but not by mail.

A jarring commotion rudely rips you from sleep's embrace. You groggily sit up, blinking once, twice, before realizing the noises were very much real and still happening. Who is this loud on a Sunday morning? Grim continues to snooze right next to you, unperturbed by the disturbances. You debate whether it's worth it to get out of the comfy covers. Then another yell echoes up to the room and you groan in annoyance.

You slam the entrance doors open, ready to give the lecture of a lifetime before you stop in your tracks.

Deuce Spade looks like he wants the ground to swallow him up whole. Even Ace Trappola, haughty asshole that he is, looks thoroughly ashamed to be caught in a compromising pose. The scene is so familiar that you can't seem to be confused. It takes a second of awkward staring from all three of you before you realize that you're still standing in your thin pajamas, out front in the public entryway in the cold.

"...May I help you?" The distant polite inquiry has them both flinching. They scramble to their feet, brushing off dirt and debris from their fist fight.

"We're very sorry!" Deuce bows deeply, while Ace scoffs and looks away.

"Housewarden Riddle told us to give you this, so…" Ace shoves a white envelope with a seal boasting a crown insignia into your hands. The Queen of Hearts. You exhale through your nose. So this is what Riddle meant earlier.

You open the envelope gingerly, carefully inspecting it as if it were some kind of trap.

"We're going to have a party soon." Ace is still determinedly avoiding your eyes. "You can come…if you want."

You hold back a sardonic chuckle. Even after everything that's happened, he's trying to act like some kind of cool, suave guy. Your eyes drop down again and you open up the flap to reveal the elegant crimson cursive that decorates the paper.

You're cordially invited to Heartslabyul's monthly tea party. Please send your response ASAP.

Date: XX/05

Time: 14:00 - 17:00

A silence lingers in the air, heavy as a rock. You can tell without looking that the two were holding bated breaths waiting for your reply.

This certainly was out of the blue. But. It was Ace and Deuce. Riddle may have issued the order, but they must've taken initiative in delivering her majesty's decree. Stubborn and tenacious, yet they were still endearing with their loyal friendship. Who in this world would run across a whole desert for you?

That wasn't for you though. The intrusive thought immediately makes your lips thin. The card soldiers shift at the subtle expression change, nervousness painted all over their faces.

You would be lying if you said you weren't curious. Why an invitation to a tea party? It was rather unlike Heartslabyul–or at least most of them–to be indirect like this.

"Sure. I'll be there. I can bring Grim, right?" You flip over the card and envelope, raising an eyebrow at their stunned faces.

"Wait, you serious?" Ace stutters. His ruby eyes blink rapidly as his mouth gapes open. It’s clear he wasn’t expecting you to actually say yes.

"Why would I waste my time lying to you?" You sigh, crossing your arms. Granted, you never did send any response back to that ostentatious bouquet, but you were already preoccupied with the hundred of other letters and packages flooding your mailbox.

"In that case, of course Grim can come!" Deuce says, looking like he's been released from an entire burden off his chest. It was no doubt plaguing him on what your answer would be.

"Great." You wave a careless hand, turning to close the door. You're so ready to go back under soft bed covers. "You can give my answer to your housewarden. See you then."

A hand grabs at your arm and tugs you back suddenly. You turn and open your mouth–

"You! You're the one that caused Yuu to shut down!!"

Wind blasts past you, leaving a thin trickle of blood down your cheek. Eyes wide, all you can do is stare at furious crimson eyes glaring you down.

"-Hey!"

Those eyes. It's the same bloody crimson. The same sharp glint of raw bloodlust. Your right cheek aches terribly. Cold sweat runs down your back. Try as you might, you cannot suppress the reactive instinct to flee.

"Don't touch me." Your terse response has Ace retracting his own hand immediately.

"S-sorry, sorry–" He’s scrambling to get past his mistake. If you were in a better state of mind, you would've laughed at his genuinely flustered state. "I–I didn't mean to grab you like that, it’s just that–"

"We also have something else.” Deuce cuts in, trying to cover for Ace’s blunder. He shoves something warm under your nose, and it takes a hot minute to process what you’re smelling.

Lavender. The cookies within his hands are simple and aren’t decorated, but the buttery floral aroma they emit leaves you salivating. You slowly take it from his hands, staring at the carefully packaged bag.

“...From Trey,” Deuce offers hesitantly after seeing your surprised expression. His tight expression and stiff posture betrays the way he is attempting to look respectable. “He's wanted to send you something for a while now.”

For a while? His dorm mates were all clambering to get any crumb of response from you. He might've had the manners then to understand that you wouldn't be delighted to hear from someone who only watched from the sidelines as you were being attacked. Did he only wait because his beloved housewarden didn't move yet? How typical.

“Tell him thanks for me.” The two of them shuffle their feet while exchanging glances at your freezing cold tone.

"Don't mind us, prefect." Deuce elbows Ace, causing the red head to click his tongue and glare back. "Sorry for bothering you like this–we'll get going now!"

The two actually leave without more fuss, leaving you to twirl the invitation in trepidation.

When you look down again, the flowy calligraphy has been smudged by your fingers, ink blooming on your skin like blood.

–

"What does one wear to a tea party, Sam?"

The question slips out before you know it, making the store keeper turn around and raise an eyebrow at you.

"And why is our little imp curious?" He teases. At your unamused face, his face splits into a garish grin.

"Perhaps you should ask Professor Crewel. After all, he does have quite the fashion sense." Sam strokes his chin in thought. "While we do have some outfits here, it might be best to get advice from someone who has been to these kinds of events."

And so, you find yourself standing in front of an indifferent Divus Crewel, who takes one look at you and takes another drag from his fashionable cigarette holder. He continues to shuffle through papers, all the while shaking his head.

“I should’ve known Sam would be the one to send you.” His voice sounds annoyed, yet carries no weight of anger. Much like how his bark is worse than his bite, Crewel isn’t one to heartlessly turn you away. “A tea party, you said?”

“Sam recommended that I go to you since you have more experience in this sort of thing.” Crewel does another critical once over of you, no doubt estimating your measurements for the look he’s thinking of. As expected of a former Pomefiore housewarden. He seems to already have an idea of what outfit would be best.

“I’ll help you, but you’re running some errands for me first, pup.”

You shouldn’t have expected anything less from the alchemy professor. Now you’re stuck picking out ingredients in the botanical garden while you’re waiting for him to get the materials together for your outfit.

Of all the botanical zones, it just had to be the tropical zone. The harsh artificial lights shine down as you lean down to pick herbs. While the temperature is bearable, you don't know how much more sweat your outfit can take before it gets soaked completely. The humidity is choking, and you feel dizzy from both the moisture and heat clouding your senses.

“Prefect?”

You look up wearily from basil plants to see Cater Diamond in his labwear, with a face that mirrors your stunned expression.

Give me a break. Immediately, your awkward customer service smile falls in place. First her Majesty, then Tweedle Dee and Dum, and now the March Hare? But Cater knows how to read the room. Maybe he'll know to let it go–

Your hopes are dashed as he immediately bounces up to you with a grin. “Didn't think I'd run into ya like this. Whatcha doing here?”

“Er, Crewel wanted my help with getting him ingredients…” This conversation was quickly swerving into awkward territory. “Why are you here?”

“Ah, you know…” Cater chuckles sheepishly, “I got assigned to water the plants…”

You take notice of the steel watering can in his gloved hands, then the long green hose by his boots. “Ah.”

“Guess that means we’ll be working together!” He chirps cheerfully and you cringe. Seven, anything but that! You quickly turn back to your basket and begin to pick up the pace in harvesting the basil. The quicker you finish, the faster you can get out of this deathly awkward situation.

“By the way, Acey and Deucey wouldn’t stop chatting about you accepting our invitation!” You flinch as Cater idles up next to you, using the hose to spray a generous amount of water over the patch of herbs. “It was pretty cute to see, y’know.”

“R-really?”

"Trey was also glad too. He and Riddle have been planning to make it the best tea party ever," he mock emphasizes. "They've been running the dorm ragged over the party deets. Cay Cay's been so busy with planning stuff!"

"That's not really necessary…" A feeling of guilt worms into your guts for a moment. You squash it. What Riddle and the others do is none of your business and no obligation of yours.

"Right? That's what I said too!" Is he implying that you're the reason there's more work than usual? How shameless is he?

After a good minute of dead silence, Cater pipes up again.

"Sooo, prefect, whatcha been up to lately?"

You can't take it anymore.

“Why are you talking like I have a gun to your head?”

Ever since he made his presence known, he's adopted a high pitched cheery tone that grates on your ears. It was akin to a customer service voice, but you know Cater. That's his influencer speak.

Cater's chipper smile vanishes instantly.

"Whaaaat?!" You catch a glimpse of his snaggle tooth in his exclamation. He quickly turns and moves to water a patch of sprouts further away, "Like, what are you even talking about? You know ol' Cay Cay's just trying to lighten the mood!"

More like he's desperately trying to appeal to you. He knows which attitude will get him the most views, and the best expressions to rake in likes and comments. You often thought that trait was endearing in its own way when you saw him as a fictional character. Now that you're dealing with him as a human being, it just pisses you off to no end. How could he? You know Cater isn't known for his genuineness but….you thought he would at least act his usual aloof casual self. Then you would know that it wouldn't matter if you offended him.

The straw basket is finally filled with everything Crewel asked you for. It's with dirtied skin and sore muscles that you turn towards the exit without sparing Cater a glance.

"If you say so, Diamond." You hurl the words like a molotov cocktail, and it's very effective. Cater's eyebrows twitch and his hands clench around the watering can. It's one thing to call him by his last name, it's another to completely blow off the nickname he blatantly shoves onto you. "See you later at the party."

“Wait, wait, time out for a second!! Can you at least unblock me on Magicam?” The last sentence makes you freeze in your tracks.

When you turn around, Cater’s somehow still smiling that insincere smile of his. Your neck prickles with dread.

You trust me now, right? His crinkled lime green eyes gleam.

You're not fooled. He is desperate to appeal to you not from genuine adoration, but rather guilty obligation. Although he tried to scrub it from his Magicam profile, you saw the blurry reels and pictures of you fleeing for your life. The detailed descriptions underneath. Each one boasting deliberate timestamps meant for best exposure. He put a bounty on your head with his own hands.

Two can play at that game.

"Block you? I don't have a Magicam account," is your dry response. Cater continues to smile as his eyes close.

"Really? I swear that it was you…" His lips jut out in an insincere pout, tilting his head. You shrug apathetically, hoping the conversation runs itself dead.

"Well, if you do make one, hit me up okay?" Cater calls out after your retreating back.

Once you're in the school corridors and catching your breath, you dig your phone out with shaky hands and pull up Magicam.

Hitting delete account has never felt more relieving.

–

The outfit, in your quiet opinion, was not worth the mental gymnastics you had to do in the botanical garden. Not that you were going to say anything to the very teacher who has been known to treat his students like barking dogs.

"It should fit just fine," Crewel smooths out the crinkles in the fabric before handing it to you. "Go on now. Try it on."

A simple white with a red ribbon bow tie and black slacks. It was rather simple, which is just fine. You didn't need or want to stand out in this party. But you certainly didn't want to end up looking like a slob either. This suit your needs quite nicely.

Smoothing down your shirt, you give a spin as Crewel looks on unimpressed. He waves you off with a dry "Don't expect me to do any more favors for you, pup." You mischievously grin and wave him goodbye as you trot off with your clothes in tow.

The last rays of the sun sets the hallway ablaze with orange and yellow hues. You hum as you take the familiar pathway back to Ramshackle. With everything crazy that’s been going on lately, it gets too easy to be swept up in the moment. As you watch the shadows flicker between the stone pillars, you slow down to observe the scenery for a bit.

The sunset catches a glint and reflects bright white for a moment. You blink and it’s gone when you focus. You stop, confused at the intrusion.

A loud click echoes behind you, but when you whip around, there’s nothing but the empty hallways.

You stand for a moment in place, waiting and listening apprehensively. Nothing else happens, and it’s with cautious paranoia that you turn around and start speed walking.

iiii. Funeral

It would be impolite to show up to a party without something.

But now as you're standing before the mirror leading to Heartslabyul, you're having second thoughts.

What if it isn't good? You glance down at your box containing the simple custard puddings you were able to make just last night. You didn't really have the skills to make complicated sweets and the puddings only took three ingredients. And your outfit, what if it isn't up to the Queen of Hearts' rules–

"C'mon, [First]! Or else the food will be gone by the time we get there!"

You breathe out a giggle. "I don't think anyone can beat you on your eating speed, Grim."

"You don't know that!" He hops up and down impatiently, waiting for you to adjust the box in your hands.

Right, who cares about any of that?

You follow your companion through the warped glass.

The fresh spring breeze graces you first, then the refreshing scent of flora, and finally, the warmth of the sun on your skin. When you open your eyes, the stretch of viridian green pastures and vibrant flowers greets you. The land of Heartslabyul is as picturesque as you remembered on screen. It feels unreal.

And waiting for you at the end of the path is the very first dorm you've befriended.

"Weird. Where's everyone at?" Grim grumbles, ears twitching in irritation.

The entrance is completely devoid of any human presence. You don’t sense anyone in the building either, which is completely strange.

Grim's right. Where is everyone? For an incoming tea party, wouldn’t there be various students rushing in and out for the preparations?

“Perhaps they’re in the maze?” You glance warily over to the tall hedges that bloom with beautiful roses. “Should we wait?”

“Ugh, that’s so rude of ‘em to keep us hangin’ though! I say we go lookin’ for them. Who knows how long we gotta stand out here!” Grim shakes his head, distraught at the thought of having to wait for his food. "Let's go to the kitchen!"

"You just want to see if you can eat something." You tut at Grim's scheming face.

"Mya, so what?!" He yowls. "I'm going and you can't stop me!"

"Grim, wait–" You call anxiously, but your companion is already scampering off into the dorm. You're left with no choice but to take a deep steadying breath and press on.

But the kitchen room is also empty when the two of you pop in. However, it seems like it was used recently, if not for the smell, then the sight of various dishes laid out on the counter would have clued you in. You sneakily compare your puddings to the spread laid out before you and wonder again if it isn't too late to put them away in a dark corner.

"What do you have there, prefect?" A low voice breathes in your ear.

You and Grim shriek in tandem, with you almost fumbling and dropping your box and Grim’s signature sharp nails digging into your shins.

The looming presence behind you is revealed to be Trey Clover, who has an apologetic face after spooking the two of you. At least he is conscientious.

"My bad, my bad," he chuckles, "I should've been more obvious about my arrival." He places a steady hovering hand behind your back. Just barely touching, yet close enough to feel its heat. Embarrassingly, the feeling is soothing enough that you can't find it in yourself to pull away.

"Sheesh, for real! You took some of my life with that, y'know Trey!" Grim hisses, detaching his claws from your poor legs. Trey only laughs and ruffles his head.

"I’m sorry about that Grim. Anyway, you guys came just in time," Trey begins to transfer the dishes onto a wheeled cart. "Food just needs to be carried out and the tea party can begin—but you have something, don't you?"

Regret seeps in when you think of your sad puddings next to all these gorgeous pastries and appetizers.

“Uhm, I don’t think it’s really needed since you got all this,” you laugh sheepishly as your hands automatically hide the box behind your back.

“No way.” Trey’s smile is warm but firm. When he gently guides your hands to give up the box, you can’t find it in yourself to protest. “It can’t be that bad, since you made it.”

You're struck silent, and Trey immediately takes advantage of your state to press his hand to your back to usher you forward. His fingertips graze your side, and for a second, you swear his lips quirk into a smirk.

You follow alongside Trey as he pushes the cart out through the door.

"By the way, I'm happy to hear you liked the lavender cookies." You look over to see the baker smile warmly. "I would've tried something with the candied violets I had, but I ran out just as I was making them." He sighs as he shakes his head.

Something with the way he's worded it makes it sound like there was more to the story, but you don't care enough to pry further. Trey's golden orbs slide to meet yours discreetly, and you realize he's waiting for you to respond. You murmur an apathetic response back, and he visibly droops.

It's a long, quiet walk through the rose maze.

It seems your arrival with Trey threw everyone off guard. You don't know why they look so alarmed: the venue looks absolutely resplendent. Colorful lanterns dot the tree lines, swinging back and forth cheerily with brightly colored flags. The long table is draped with fine cloth embroidered with intricate lace patterns. There's not a single wrinkle to be seen in the fabric. And the rose bushes, blooming with both red and white roses, are pruned cleanly, not a leaf or branch out of place.

It is a tea party fit for the Queen of Hearts.

"And the guest of honor is finally here!" Easygoing as ever, Cater calls out jauntily to you both. He seems to be the only one not visibly panicking. "Trey, what took ya so long?"

"Had to get the dishes here, you know." He shoots a knowing glare at Cater, who flinches with a sheepish smile. "Someone was supposed to help me, which would've made it a lot faster."

Ah. Cater giggles nervously while twirling his hair. Ace and Deuce exchange disbelieving looks before shaking their heads.

“Welcome, prefect.” Riddle greets you with a stiff bow. "And Grim." He hastily adds, seeing your companion’s face twist sulkily. The action makes you smile, if only for a moment.

“We’ve been waiting forever for you, Yuu—” Deuce jabs an elbow sharply into Ace’s side, making him cough and sputter mid sentence, but the damage has already been done. Another awkward silence reigns as everyone’s fearful faces are directed at you, trying to figure out how to best traverse the conversational minefield.

“W-What Acey meant to say is–” Cater is cut off immediately.

"Uh, er, come to think of it, what's your actual name?" Deuce is the one who pushes forward despite everyone else’s horrified looks. As if he had uttered a profane exclamation.

"My…name?" You echo back.

Right. Since all they knew was the puppet, they didn't know your true name. Heavy silence hovers in the air, even Grim was looking at you in anticipation.

"My name is…" Something chokes your throat. Reluctance? Or fear?

"[First]. [First] [Last]."

They mutter it among themselves, tasting the syllables and weaving the rhythms of the letters. How strange. With sugar coated lips, their voices ring like church bells for prayer. You're born anew, for the way they look at you is enough to make your heart soar for several fleeting seconds.

For a brief moment, you could believe that you were with your Heartslabyul again.

The tea party begins like a baby animal: slow, unsure, and always in danger of stumbling to the ground. But it’s Heartslabyul, and who else would know how to best host a party for its guests?

By the time the tea is being poured into your cups, a steady conversation has started naturally flowing between all of you.

“Is there something the matter?” Riddle asks for the nth time as he worriedly gazes at the way your eyes stray to the hedges and whimsical decorations beyond the table.

"Oh uhm…” You hesitate, still not meeting Riddle’s worried face. “Why are the roses both red and white? I thought one of your rules is that tea parties always have white roses."

Riddle exchanges a look with Trey at your question.

"That is true, [First], however…" He pauses, before continuing with a determined look. "Red and white roses are customary for parties celebrating with new friends."

“New…friends?” Your hand is frozen at your teacup.

Something fiercely warm fills your chest. There's cautious hope glimmering in Riddle and Trey's eyes. That wasn’t fair. How could they say something like that and not expect you to react?

The party ends on a light note unlike its stiff beginning. The soldiers gather to see you and Grim off, but once Grim scampers off with his leftovers in paw, her Majesty moves to your side.

“Prefect–no, [First], would you come again?” He asks. His hands are trembling, tugging at your sleeve timidly like a young child again. “F-For an Unbirthday party, of course!”

It’s a request that’s not selfish, you note. Her Majesty’s card soldiers look on expectantly behind their monarch, and it takes everything within you to not collapse.

“Of course. I can’t wait for it already.”

Your heart weighs heavy. They do not know that the promise is an empty white lie. Though you cherish them, you do not wish to act the role of a doll whose purpose is to play house.

When they looked at you with those pleading eyes, who did they see?

Yuu, the puppet they adored for its safe default responses and supportive words?

Or you, the player who has their own flaws and biased personality?

It's okay, you reason.

They won't be able to tell the difference between clay and flesh.

v. Burial

You have a hunch about Yuu.

Only a guess based on many hypotheticals, but better than nothing.

If the puppet stopped working when you arrived, then shouldn't it go without saying that if you left this world, that it would return back to life?

The wooden door creaks open, stirring up dust and sending it flying into the air. You cough and sneeze, waving your hand to disperse the irritant. Serves you right. After all, you refused to step into this room since Yuu's body was hauled here. Didn't even dare to come clean the room. The dust settles and you can finally make out the puppet's silhouette from the waning light rays of the window.

It still adorns its proper NRC uniform, wrinkled in the spots where you had lifted it. It hasn't moved at all from its sprawled pose on the sofa. You remember the dread at realizing the only fitting school uniform you could possibly wear was on this puppet. It only cemented your resolve to break away from the puppet's image. Even if you had to resort to clearing out ancient closets and haggling with faculty, you'd rather take the raggedy shawls and worn flannel over the crisp blazer and button up the puppet wore.

Its skin has become ashen gray, drained of any life. Old joints creaked in agony when you adjusted it to a sitting position for better examination. For a while, the both of you stare at each other.

Despair tugs at your mind. How long will you be trapped in this world? Has the Headmaster even done anything to help you get home? You snort. He couldn’t even bother doing anything when it was just the vessel. Why would that change now?

Can you hear me?

The voice, so quiet yet clear, makes you whip your head around. No one's in the room. Are you finally going crazy?

You can hear me, right?

Is one of the ghosts playing a prank on you? You can't pinpoint the source of the voice at all.

I'm here–look!

With dread and fear pooling in your heart, your head turns slowly to meet the doll's eyes; whose pupils are now fixated on you.

The urge to scream and push away the doll is overwhelming. But in a world where the supernatural is natural, you suppose that dolls that can speak are the least impossible thing out there.

I can help you find your way home.

You swallow thickly. Pursing your lips, your grip on its arms tightens as you lean in. Something stirs, and it’s crazy, but you swear it hums in pleasure.

Listen to what I say carefully…

Decorations? Check. Refreshments? Check.

Outfits? Check.

So why does it feel like there's something missing?

"What's wrong, Riddle?" He turns to see Trey's concerned face. He gives an awkward smile back.

"I'm not quite sure, but something feels amiss." He explains, rubbing his neck. It's obvious enough to make him feel the familiar slivers of irritation slither through him.

He tries to will it away. It's a good day, and there was nothing to be angry about. The player–no, [First]–had decided to give them a chance and agreed to come over to celebrate an Unbirthday party with them. Ace and Deuce are behaving as good, law-abiding card soldiers should be. The roses were saturated with dripping red, the dormouse had its nose smeared with jam–so what is this itch that won't go away?

"We can do a double check of everything again," Trey offers gently. “It shouldn’t take too long.”

Riddle shakes his head. “It’s almost time for them to arrive. I will not have them waiting on something that isn’t even a problem.”

“Housewarden~!” Speak of the devil. He turns with a frown at Ace’s loud shout, but it fades to a small smile when he sees you trailing after Ace.

"Hello, Riddle." You smile warmly at him, and his cheeks flush pink.

Wait. He stops. Have you ever called his name? He doesn’t have time to ponder this before he’s interrupted by Trey and Cater bringing in the food.

When everyone is seated and the party is in swing, he notices something.

“Is the food not to your liking, [First]?” He inquires as politely as possible, softening his tone to make it sound less accusatory.

You fluster, waving a hand. “Not at all. I’m just not that hungry right now.”

He decides to leave it, because it’s not as if it’s wrong, per se, if the guest wasn’t eating. He recalls Ace’s previous words to him.

“Housewarden, you really should loosen up a bit! Otherwise you’re gonna end up being a killjoy!”

He may be many things, but he is not a killjoy! Just because he was particular about certain things doesn’t mean he didn’t know how to let go.

But something feels off.

Then he realizes that while the conversation is flowing as usual, you are hardly speaking at all. You only speak when directly spoken to, and even then, it’s short, clipped responses.

He watches incredulously as you pour yourself a cup of tea and then drink it.

The golden scepter materializes in his hand as easily as breathing.

Everyone else reacts explosively, looking alarmed at the scene unfolding. Meanwhile, you merely stare blankly at the end of the scepter nearly several inches from your nose.

"Riddle, hold the phone, what are you doing?!" He barely hears Cater's frantic voice to his left. He's too focused on the way that…that thing is not reacting at all.

"You. Where is [First]?"

It's silent for a moment, and then a disturbing crooked grin breaks out from its poker face. It starts cackling loudly and it makes his blood start boiling.

"Start speaking or it's off with your head!" He screeches, scepter shaking uncontrollably in his hands.

"Boo, I was hoping you guys were stupid enough to fall for it.” The thing taunts, leaning back in their chair.

Red fills his vision. How dare this thing use your visage and breath such vile words? Before he could register it, his arm swipes across. By the time his eyes clear and his breathing steadies, he's staring at a decapitated body that is mangled beyond repair.

It takes another moment to realize he is not the only one who has raised their magical pen.

Trey is at his right, golden eyes dark as Riddle realizes he positioned himself to shield him. Cater mirrors Trey, but his arms are visibly shaking and his eyes keep switching from him to the broken body on the trimmed lawn. Ace and Deuce had positioned themselves to the backside, but they too, barely seem to be holding themselves together, clenched fists at the ready for physical blows.

“What…” he breathes, “is going on?”

The only answer he gets is the wind whistling through the grass blades.

He collapses to his knees as he fumbles with a body that has been torn asunder, but instead of flesh and bones, he only finds clay and chipped resin.

“What have we done?”

#yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yandere heartslabyul #my works #if this gets good reception i'll have a easier time of writing part 2

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starry-bi-sky · 3 months

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DPXDC Idea: Mother of Monsters Dan(yal)

Specifically Fem!Dan because I made this in mind with my Fem Danyal Au bUT. The best part about Dan is that I get to play dress up with her, and Fem Dark Dany is gonna go by Layal (pronounced lae-el) because it means "the nights" and it sounds similar to Danyal, and I think she'd choose that name to mock Dany. ANYWAYS

Mother of Monsters Danyal. She may be evil but she's an Al Ghul at her core (even with vlad's soul merged with hers - however, considering that Layal looks and sounds like Dany, she considers that soul to be the more dominant one.) and loves animals. And she might be heartless, but she adores the monsters of the infinite realms.

Mother of Monsters Layal who hates everyone but utterly dotes and adores on every manner of beast she comes across. Stealing the eggs and infant young beasts of the Infinite Realms to raise as her own because she wanted them. Her own island full of monsters, a monstrous menagerie of her own. She steals most often from poachers or exotic pet keepers and other menageries -- the full grown beasties can keep their young.

And with every monster she raises, she can shapeshift their features onto herself, allowing her to change her shape from humanish to any matter of monster or hybrid creature. She calls herself their mother, and them her children. Her precious little babies, capable of incredible mass destruction and mayhem.

From little griffins the size of kittens, to stymphalian vulture chicks, and leviathan young hatching from eggs the size of her pinkie, to creatures native of the ghost zone that didn't even have names in the living realm. There really wasn't a limit to what or who she would take in and she didn't limit herself to any form of mythology. If they were beasts and they were unwanted, she wanted them. And as such, amassed her own mini army of "children" willing to listen to her any command.

Earth doesn't know what hit it when she attacks them.

There are many monstrous forms she could take on, the first one I've thought of is a combination of various serpentine/reptilian features. The body of a naga -- her lower half long and serpentine, her upper still human -- with spiked fins connecting from the bottom of her arms to her sides, ever seen Sinbad where Eris goes "you might have seen my likeness on the temple walls" and her arms do that fin thingy? Same concept. Her hands are webbed and taloned, perfect for slicing through the skin of the living, and her teeth are needle-sharp and shark like. Her hair can either be spiny and feathery-like like the spines of a lionfish, or frilled like a frilled-neck lizard. It's perfect for dealing and doting on her reptilian and amphibian-inclined darlings.

I'm more of a fan of aus where Dan is a sibling of Danny's rather than their kid, so Layal's redemption(..?? probation?) proceeds with her legally becoming Danyal's "twin" sister, who had been lost to the foster system before the Fentons adopted Dany, and was only recently reunited with her. The two of them look so alike that the lie is easy to take root and spread.

Layal is very indignant to the fact that she's now ten years in the past and has to restart her menagerie all over again. Do you know how much blood and sweat went into raising those children? How dare you separate them from their mummy. Although she'll admit she does miss their juvenile years, so she won't mind (too much) needing to raising them again. Dany is helping her retrieve all of them though, dammit.

long story short: epic the musical's "Scylla" has a CHOKEHOLD on me and this is the result of it

Unlike her Dan counterpart, Layal's voice is dancing and sirenic. It's purposely alluring and motherly, in order to lure people into a false sense of security until she feeds them to her "children." Echidna doesn't have shit on her. She almost seems friendly and reasonable, until you get too close and realize it was all an act and she drops it to metaphorically swallow you whole. She's like an anglerfish that way. She and Dany both sound like Scylla from Epic.

#mother of monsters danny #dpxdc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dp x dc #dpxdc crossover #dp x dc crossover #dpdc #dpxdc au #dpxdc prompt #fem danny fenton #fem danyal al ghul #danyal al ghul #dany helps laya find one(1) beastie and instantly falls in love. laya does not need to convince her to come help her rob other ghosts blind #of their exotic “pets” or animals or whatever the reason they have beasts that they shouldn't for. she'll volunteer willingly its a trait #that they share. laya knows that raising her babies will be difficult now that she has to g back to *school* but dammit se's not leaving #them in the hands of the people she found them in. those are HER children fuck you.#Layal is the one to reveal to Damian that his older sister is alive and it was on purpose. It was to send him on a wild goose chase looking #for Dany in order to be around to save her from becoming Layal.#'Tragic. Terribly tragic; your dear sister had her soul ripped from her body and merged with another. What was left of her...'#'well. i put out of its misery.' she's very cloying towards damian and this is on purpose because she thinks its funny to get under his ski #goes out of her way to only ever refer to him as 'little brother' but if she can't she'll call him sickeningly sweet nicknames.#this happens about oooo midway 'redemption'? Where Laya is actually rather fond of Dany and is starting to consider her as a sister #as well. and she likes Ali. Laya herself is still rather unsympathetic to the world around her. only acts on a kindness for 'her people'#her people includes Dany which is why she even actually told Damian that Dany was alive and gave him an incentive to look for her #because she saw DAny mourning another lost birthday for her little brother and decided to go 'aw fuck who gave me feelings' and decided to #make it everyones problem.#starry rambles

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mxltifxnd0m · 2 months

Text

beach confessions 𓍼 i. lahey

summary: a beach day with the pack

pairings: isaac lahey x reader, isaac lahey x fem! reader

word count: 5.5K

warnings: no use of 'y/n', an au where allison didn't die or where she and isaac were a thing, tooth-rotting fluff, some swearing, mutual pining, suggestive content, kissing

a/n: it kinda seems that the teen wolf fandom is a little dead, and the isaac lahey fandom is even deader, which is sad bc who doesn't love isaac lahey, but I'm posting this regardless bc I worked hard on it

but if isaac lahey has no fans, it means i'm dead

please reblog and comment! i love to see what you guys say ;))

𝘪𝘴𝘢𝘢𝘤 𝘭𝘢𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

Salt air filled your lungs as you climbed out of Lydia's car. The two-hour drive with Allison and Lydia was filled with singing, gossiping, and laughing. Lydia was ahead of Stiles's blue Jeep as they drove along the highway to the coast. Even when driving, Lydia led most of the conversations, never letting the car be left in a dull silence.

Summer had finally arrived, and school had finally come to an end. It was a long school year with supernatural threats looming over the pack almost every month. Summer break was a reprieve from the constant dangers that Beacon Hills seemed to attract.

The six of you, Scott, Stiles, you, Allison, Lydia, and Isaac, decided to head down to the beach to cool down from the blistering heat wave that struck your hometown earlier that week. As much as you loved Lydia's pool, you craved to be by the beach, wanting to feel the ocean breeze through your hair, the sun kissing your skin, and feel the coolness of the water wash over your body as you dived under a wave. The sand was the only part of the beach that you never enjoyed, having found it in places where it was unwanted. Still, you could overlook the sand and bask in the beauty of the beach and what it had to offer.

You remember a time before your world had turned upside down by the mere existence of the supernatural, that every summer, you and your family would go down by a spot on the beach that your mom and dad had discovered back when they were dating and spend the entire day there, splashing around the water, building sandcastles, or seeing who could ride the biggest wave on their boogie board with your siblings and cousins until your dads had to carry you on their backs because you were exhausted from the day.

So you decided to plan out this day with the help of Lydia, and it took little to no convincing to get everyone on board with the idea of a day at the beach. You would have driven to the spot since you knew where it was, but your parents had taken your car for a road trip they were doing with the rest of your family. You opted to stay home with your friends and told your parents that you would join them next year.

But now it led you to the beach, and you could hear the ocean calling your name as you helped Lydia and Allison unpack the car. Yesterday, the three of you spent the day shopping for snacks and supplies that you didn't already have. You stuck all of the heavy stuff, like the chairs and canopy tent, in the back of Stiles's Jeep while the drinks and snacks were in Lydia's Prius.

The boys were parked right next to you guys, and they were also unpacking their car very loudly, you may add, with Stiles complaining about how heavy some of the stuff you guys brought was.

You rolled your eyes at Stiles's whining, but you knew it was because he was stuck driving his Jeep for two hours straight (even though he didn't allow anyone else to drive it besides himself).

You turned to the boys with an amused smirk on your face. "Suck it up Stilinski. You won't be complaining once you get into the water."

Stiles scoffed and grumbled to himself, Isaac and Scott stifling their laughs at his words, being able to hear his words loud and clear because of their enhanced hearing.

Your eyes shot to Isaac, hearing his poor attempt at concealing his laughter. You felt something in your chest flutter as you saw amusement glint brightly in his eyes, which seemed to shift between shades of blue according to his mood. Right now, they match the color of the clear blue sky. Isaac must have felt your gaze on him since he made eye contact with you and winked at you.

You rolled your eyes at him to hide the fact that you were staring at him. You looked at your friends, their arms filled with various items you guys had taken from the car, and nodded.

"Let's get this show on the road!" You said, smiling, and started to walk away from the cars and down to the beach. The rest of your friends trailed behind you since you were the one who knew where the spot was. You walked for a couple of minutes until you made it to a flight of stairs.

Lydia called your name out. "You didn't mention there were stairs?" Her voice was tight with slight apprehension.

You looked back at her with pursed lips. "I didn't?" You asked with a cocked head.

The rest of the pack shook their heads. It was comical how their heads nodded in synchronicity. At that, you had to press your lips together to suppress the chuckles threatening to escape your mouth.

You hummed. "I could've sworn I told you there was some to get down to the beach."

"Well you didn't." Stiles said.

"It's only a flight of stairs."

"Oh."

"'Oh.' is correct, Stiles. But I do have to warn you guys that the stairs are steep. Now enough chit-chat, it's supposed to get hotter and the water is calling my name." You said before heading down the stairs that led down to the sandy beach.

It didn't take long to find a spot to set up camp since the beach was pretty vacant, with a few people and a family occupying the beach. You picked a place close to the stairs since the odds of someone (one of the boys) forgetting something in one of the cars were pretty high. But you also chose to set up near a fire pit, having made Stiles pick up some firewood before you left the beach.

Once you had set down your stuff, everyone else followed suit, setting down the snacks, chairs, and the canopy tent that you now had to set up. With some fumbling and Stiles not listening to your directions, all six of you were able to set up the tent for shade and set up the four beach chairs you had brought.

You all had agreed that you guys would trade off the chairs and sit down on an outside blanket that you had brought, as well as your towels. The boys were eager to jump into the water after stripping themselves of their shirts, but you quickly stopped them.

You waved the sunblock you brought in the air. "Nuh-uh. You guys need to put on sunblock because I don't want to hear groans of pain when you guys get sunburnt." You pointedly looked at Stiles and Isaac since they were the palest of the boys (you don't think Scott would burn; if anything, he'd probably just get tanner).

They reluctantly agreed, and Scott took the sunscreen from your hand. Lydia had also brought her own and began to lather herself in sunblock. You let the sunblock be passed around to everyone first while you set up the cooler and organized the snacks.

When you were done organizing the snacks, you pulled off the white collar shirt that was acting as your beach cover-up and jean shorts. You crouched down and looked through the bag that was on the blanket for your hair ties to put up your hair. A tap on your shoulder got your attention, making you look up from your bag. You turned around to see Isaac holding the bottle of sunblock, looking a little sheepish.

"Could you do my back?" Isaac asked. You caught his gaze roaming your body before his eyes darted up to meet your own.

You looked around to see that Scott and Stiles were running toward the water, with Allison and Lydia following their lead but walking instead of sprinting behind them. You raised an eyebrow at the sight of Lydia walking towards the water.

Huh, I thought Lydia would have wanted to stay and tan first. You thought to yourself before looking back at Isaac.

"Yeah, let me grab my hair ties real quick." You sent Isaac a quick smile before turning back to your bag and pulling two black hair ties. You rolled them on your wrist before Isaac handed you the sunblock. Isaac just stared at you expectantly as you uncapped the sunblock.

"Hey wolfy, I'm gonna need you to turn around if you don't want a bad sunburn on your back." You quipped as you gestured for him to turn around with your finger.

Isaac rolled his eyes at your nickname for him, but you saw the corner of his mouth twitch up, and he turned around to face the water. You put some sunblock in the palm of your hand before closing it and tossing it on a nearby chair. You stepped closer to Isaac as you rubbed the sunblock on your palms, warming it up before starting to rub it into his skin.

You saw some of the muscles in his back twitch when you placed your hands on his back, beginning to rub in the sunblock. You've never seen Isaac shirtless before, and it was hard not to keep your eyes from roaming his back as your hands trailed over his broad shoulders and back.

You could feel some of the muscles he had gotten from lacrosse. You were close enough to see the freckles that were spattered about his back. You were tempted to trail your fingers over them, connecting them with an invisible line that was drawn from the tips of your fingers.

You cleared your throat before ripping your hands from Isaac's warm skin and stepping back from him.

"All done." You managed to say without choking on your spit.

Isaac turned around and sent you a thankful smile. The sight of his smile made your heart flutter.

"Uh, did you want me to do you?" With his words, you choked on your spit. You had a coughing fit, trying to clear your throat.

"Umm, what?" You asked him once you calmed down.

Isaac's eyes went wide with realization. "Oh god, I didn't mean it like that. I-I meant did you want me to do your back? Like with the sunblock?"

You blinked at him before nodding. "Yeah, if you could that would be appreciated." You sent him an awkward smile.

Isaac mirrored your smile and grabbed the sunblock from the chair you had tossed it on, and you turned around. You pulled your hair up to get it out of the way. You heard Isaac open the sunblock, and you jumped at the feeling of the cold sunblock on Isaac's hands.

You felt him pull away. "Sorry." He said.

"S'fine. It was colder than I expected it to be." You shot him a reassuring smile over your shoulder.

Then you felt his hands on your back, beginning to rub the sunblock into your skin. You tried not to shiver at the feeling of his warm hands going up and down your back. You could tell Isaac was trying to be respectful and avoiding the straps of the halter bikini top you were wearing.

"Hey, Isaac." You called to him. He hummed in response.

"You're gonna have to put the sunblock underneath my bikini straps."

"Oh, I wasn't sure if I could."

You chuckled at his hesitance. "You're fine, Isaac."

With your permission, his hand slid under the straps, and you felt goosebumps on your arms at his gentle touch. Issac's hands seemed to linger on your back before you felt them pull away as he stepped back.

"Thanks Isaac." You told him as you turned around and shot him a smile.

He nodded. "No problem." Isaac shoved his hands in his pockets as you pulled your hair out of the bun and began to part it down in the middle and start braiding the two sections. It would be a little complicated to French braid without a mirror, but you could do it.

You saw a confused look on Isaac's face as you began to braid the left side of your hair and moved to sit down on a chair.

"I'm braiding my hair before I put on sunblock so I don't get it in my hair." You offered an explanation, and his face morphed into one of understanding.

"You can go and enjoy the water, I'll meet you guys out there." You jerked your chin out to the water as best as you were halfway done with your braid.

"Nah, it's fine I can wait," Isaac said in a nonchalant tone as he moved to sit in the chair right next to you.

You were done with your first braid and moving on to the second one when you raised your eyebrow at him. "Okay then... how was being stuck in a car with Stiles?"

You heard Isaac huff loudly. "If Scott wasn't there, I would have found a way for us to crash."

You couldn't help it, and a loud laugh escaped your lips.

It's no secret that Isaac and Stiles have a frenemy dynamic with one another. Stiles's sarcasm had finally met its match with Isaac's sass and dry sense of humor, and it was amusing to see them snap back at each other. At first, there was animosity between them. But after everything that had happened in Beacon and being forced to work together, they grew to like each other (even if they wouldn't admit it). Now, there wasn't any venom behind their words, and they did it to annoy each other.

"I don't think it was that bad." You said once you calmed down from laughing. You finished your braid and tied it off.

"You try sitting in the car with Stiles rambling for almost two hours straight." Isaac scoffed.

"I have. I've learned how to tune Stiles out when he gets into a talkative mood. You learn how to soon enough my dear Padawan." You sent him a wide grin as you grabbed the sunblock and began to put it on your arms and legs.

You saw out of the corner of your eye that Isaac mouthed out the word 'padawan' with furrowed brows. You rolled your eyes at him.

"I have to get you to watch Star Wars so you can understand my references."

"Over my dead body."

You were done with lathering your body in sunblock, so you got up from the chair and stood in front of Isaac. You leaned down in front of him, resting your hands on the armrests, a sly smile on your face. Isaac's eyes flickered down to your chest before they roamed your face.

"Fine, how about a little wager then?" Isaac's blue eyes met yours, his eyebrow raised in wonder at your words.

"I'm listening." He said with a growing smile as he leaned closer to you. You tried not to let Isaac's closeness affect you as you swallowed thickly.

"Who ever gets to the water first, gets to pick the movies to watch for the next movie night." You proposed.

When Isaac first became a werewolf, neither of you knew each other well or got off on the right foot at first (you may have stabbed him in the leg with your pocket knife when he broke into Scott's house to try and kill Lydia). But when he started to be a part of the pack, he would reluctantly get rides from you. You apologized to him one day when you were taking him to Scott's house after school, and from there, your friendship grew.

Both of you seemed to be drawn to one another, and you have no clue how it started, but the two of you had movie nights to try to distract your minds from school or the next potential threat to Beacon Hills. These were the nights that you looked forward to since it was just the two of you in your living room watching these movies, and sometimes you guys would talk through a movie if it was boring. This was also the moment where you realized that you had liked Isaac.

The realization hit you like a truck, and ever since that day, you have felt like you didn't know how to act around him, but you have tried to act as normal as you could around him. Luckily, Isaac didn't seem to catch on to the change in behavior from you. But the girls and Scott noticed (curse his werewolf senses) that you liked Isaac, but you made them swear they wouldn't say anything to him.

Isaac smirked. "Deal. You ready to lose?"

Your smile slowly grew. "I'm so not sorry for what I'm about to do."

"What?"

You pushed the chair backward by the arms of the chair, causing Isaac to topple backward in the chair and hit the ground. You laughed at Isaac's pained groan and quickly sprinted away from him and towards the water. You heard Isaac shout after you, and you risked a glance over your shoulder to see Isaac sprinting.

You pumped your legs faster, but it was difficult to run through the sand. You noticed as you ran towards the water that Stiles and Scott were engaged in a splash war while Allison and Lydia were in the water until it hit their thighs. They had yet to be fully submerged as the waves were pretty calm at the moment.

You made it to the water first and turned around to see Isaac slowing down and walking down to where you were on the shoreline. You sent Isaac a cheeky grin, doing a little victory dance as he approached.

"You cheated." He said, a slight pout on his face as he caught his breath.

"You're a werewolf. You had an advantage. I just evened the playing field." You said while shrugging.

Isaac rolled his eyes, but a smile began to grow on his face. "Then, I'm so not sorry what I'm about to do." He parroted the words that you said earlier to him.

"Isaac. No." You said warningly as you narrowed your eyes at him, backing away from him slowly.

Isaac sent you a wolfish grin before he quickly grabbed your waist and hoisted you up on his shoulder like you weighed nothing. You let out a shriek of surprise as your world turned upside down, as you found yourself staring at Isaac's navy-blue swim trunk-covered ass.

It's not a bad sight, though. You thought to yourself before you realized Isaac had walked further into the water.

"Isaac! Put me down!" You exclaimed as you slapped at his back, the skin turning red as you did.

"What was that sweetheart?" The nickname made your face warm, but you scowled as he pretended not to hear you.

"I swear to God, Isaac! Put me down!" At this point, Isaac was about hip-deep in the water.

"Put you down? Okay, whatever you want, sweetheart." You could hear the smug smirk that was on Isaac's stupidly attractive face. Before you could respond, he threw you off of his shoulder and into the ocean.

The cold water was a shock to your senses as you were enveloped by the salty water. You quickly regained your bearings and stood up in the water. You wiped away the water that clung to your eyelashes and glared daggers at Isaac as he clutched his stomach, laughing his ass off at you. But you couldn't help but smile at the sound of his laugh, your chest warming at the sight of Isaac's flushed cheeks as he calmed down from his laughing fit.

"You're in for it now, Lahey." You growled playfully before splashing water at him. He flinched at the sudden feeling of being sprayed with the cold water.

"You're on." Isaac smirked before you guys had your own splash war.

While you were messing with Isaac, you didn't see the matching smirks that Allison and Lydia were sporting as they saw you play around with Isaac.

"How long do you think it's going to take for them to admit their feelings to each other?" Allison asked Lydia.

Lydia hummed before responding. "I have a feeling it's going to be soon."

Scott and Stiles somehow made their way over to where you and Isaac were playing, and it became a battle between Scott and Stiles and you and Isaac. You guys obviously won after a couple of minutes of nonstop spraying water at one another.

"Allison, Lydia!" Scott called to them and waved them over. "Let's play chicken!"

"I call Scott!" Stiles quickly said as he swung an arm over his friend's shoulders.

"What? Dude, no." Scott pushed him off. "You're too heavy."

Stiles gaped at his (supposed) best friend, making you giggle. "You're a werewolf and you say I'm too heavy?"

Scott rolled his eyes at Stiles's dramatics. "I don't have super strength."

"Yes you do!"

"As cute as the two of you bickering like an old married couple is, we want to play the game now." You cut in before Scott could retort.

Lydia nodded. "She's right. I'll go with Stiles, Allison with Scott." Then Lydia paired you with Isaac.

You turned to Isaac, trying to hide your nerves as you smiled at him. "We got this." You said as you held up your hand for a high five.

Isaac nodded, reciprocated your high five, and grabbed it. "We got this."

You all got onto the boys' shoulders as you guys readied yourselves for the game. You felt Isaac grip your thighs as he adjusted you slightly on his broad frame. You swallowed thickly, but you noticed that Isaac's curls were flattened on his head and were getting into his eyes. You carefully brushed the hair out of his eyes.

"Thanks." You heard him breathe out, making you smile.

"No problem." You patted the top of Isaac's head, fighting the temptation to run your hands through his wet curls.

Isaac had to resist gripping your thighs tightly as he felt the heat of them surround his head and neck. He could only think about different scenarios where they were around his head for a different reason. Isaac had to move his hands to rest on your knees, close his eyes, and take a deep breath to rid his mind of those thoughts.

"Ready?" Allison asked the group. Everyone nodded in response.

"Okay. Go!"

The fire burned bright as Scott threw another piece of firewood into the fire pit in front of you.

The rest of the day flew past you as the six of you enjoyed the beach. After the multiple rounds of chicken fights, you guys swam around for a little, trying to dive under the large waves that began to form. Once you felt tired of swimming, everyone headed back to the tent, and you distributed the sandwiches that you made the night before to everyone.

Conversation flowed as everyone ate and started to snack on the fruit and chips that were out from the cooler. You sneakily took pictures and videos of everyone on the digital camera you brought to document the beach trip. You had even filmed the boys boogie-boarding when they grabbed the boards from the Jeep.

As the day progressed and the sun began to fall, you put on an old red henley that once belonged to your dad and some comfy shorts once you had rinsed off the saltwater on your body.

After everyone was rinsed off and in their comfortable clothes, you had Isaac and Scott grab the firewood from the car and start to prep the fire pit. You had brought dinner to cook over the fire, which was hot dogs and some sweet corn you would roast if anyone wanted. You also brought ingredients for s'mores because what's a summer night without them?

You continued to snap pictures of the pack enjoying the food, and the smile you had since you swam in the water never left your face as everyone had fun. You could tell everyone needed today, needing to spend the day acting like teenagers and not detectives of the supernatural or the saviors of Beacon Hills.

After everyone had their fill of s'mores, Stiles had run back to the Jeep to grab a bottle of whiskey he was able to nab from his dad and showed it to the group like an eager kid showing his parents what he drew in school.

You raised a skeptical eyebrow at Stiles. "Aren't you driving?"

Stiles shook his head. "Nah, Scotty here is gonna drive back. Besides, it's not like he'll be affected if he drinks." He said as he patted Scott's back as he sat back down next to him.

You made an 'okay whatever floats your boat' face at Stiles and snapped a picture of him with the flash on as he took a swig of the liquor, his face grimacing at the burn of the alcohol. The bottle was passed around the circle, and you took a sip of the whiskey, but when it made it back to you again, you passed on it, not wanting to get drunk.

You, Scott, and Isaac were the only ones sober. Allison was leaning on Scott, clearly buzzed. While Stiles and Lydia were slowly getting tipsy as the bottle of whiskey kept being passed around. A warmth settled in your chest as you looked at your friends, and the warmth expanded down to your toes. You looked at Isaac, who was sitting next to you all night, his shoulder brushing against yours, when either of you shifted in your seat.

Not that you noticed (but you did) that Isaac was very fidgety right next to you, always playing with something in his hands, and he would look away quickly when your eyes met. A shiver racked your body as the breeze whipped through the beach.

You felt Isaac shift next to you, and then a jacket was draped over your shoulders, snapping out of your daze from staring at the fire in front of you. The smell of sandalwood, clean linen, firewood, and something that was just Isaac invaded your senses. You turned your head to see Isaac looking at you with a soft smile.

"You looked cold." He gave you a half-shrug before tuning back into the drunken babbling that Stiles was spewing.

You thanked him before sliding your arms through the sleeves and wrapping yourself in the jacket, letting Isaac's scent comfort you further. You looked up at the moon shining down at the crashing waves of the beach, and you decided that you wanted to take a bit of a walk along the shore to stretch out your legs.

You slowly got up from your seat, trying not to draw too much attention to yourself.

"Where are you going?" Isaac asked lowly.

"Oh, I just wanted to walk along the shore to stretch out my legs." You told him softly.

"Can I come with you? I don't think I can hear Stiles blab anymore."

A soft chuckle left your lips. "Yeah, you can."

Isaac smiled at you and followed you as you walked away from the group. Your and Isaac's departure didn't escape Scott or Allison's gazes. But they shared knowing smiles with one another before responding to Lydia and Stiles.

The two of you walked side by side in comfortable silence, content with listening to the waves crash into each other. You would steal small glances at Isaac, only to find him doing the same, making your cheeks warm as you looked away from each other with shy smiles on your faces. Your hands would brush against each other as you walked, making you feel giddy.

You guys walked for a couple of minutes before you sat down on the sand, not wanting to go back to the rest of the pack just yet. Isaac sat down right next to you as you stared out at the water, admiring how the moonlight made the surface of the water glitter like tiny diamonds were floating in the water.

You let out a content sigh as your head fell onto Isaac's shoulder, a wave of exhaustion suddenly hitting you. Isaac shifted closer to let your head rest comfortably on his shoulder as his arm wrapped around your shoulders.

"Have fun today?" You asked as you lifted your head up from his shoulder to rest your chin on and look at him.

Isaac hummed as he turned from the water to look at you. He was closer than you anticipated, his nose almost brushing against yours. One side of his face was dimly lit by the soft moonlight. His eyes were more of a cobalt blue because of the night sky.

Your gaze roamed his face, taking in the sharpness of his cheekbones, how the salt water made his hair curly and fell into his eyes slightly. You studied the slope of his nose and how it led down to his cupid bow, and your eyes were stuck on the fullness of his bottom lip.

God, he's so pretty. You thought to yourself until you realized that Isaac was calling out your name. He was speaking the entire time you were admiring him, and a smirk rested on his face.

"Sorry, I didn't catch that." You said with a sheepish smile on your face.

"Tired?" Isaac questioned instead of repeating his words.

"A little. But did you have fun today?"

Isaac nodded. "Yeah, I hadn't been to the beach before so it was cool to come here with you guys."

You were a little shocked at Isaac's admission. "You've never been to the beach?" You asked quietly.

"We never had the time to when I was younger." Isaac cleared his throat. "Besides, my dad never really liked the beach."

You knew that Isaac's dad was a piece of shit (your words, not his), and so this shouldn't have been a surprise to you, but you weren't expecting it.

"Well, I'm glad you had fun today." You sent him a tender smile; Isaac mirrored your smile before the both of you fell quiet, letting the waves lapping at the shore fill the calmness that settled between you.

The two of you were just staring into each other's eyes, inching closer until your foreheads rested against one another. Isaac took the hand that wasn't over your shoulder and grabbed your hand.

Your heart started to beat faster as Isaac leaned closer, his nose brushing against yours in an Eskimo kiss. A smirk grew on Isaac's face, and you knew it was because he could hear your heartbeat grow faster.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked gently, feeling his breath against your lips.

Instead of verbally answering, you pressed your lips against his in a soft kiss. Isaac's lips were warm, and you could taste the whiskey that he had taken a few swigs out of earlier. You pulled away, your eyes closed and your forehead still against his, breathing shallowly.

"I really like you." Isaac breathed out. You opened your eyes to find his already on you, and you could barely see the blue in his eyes because of how dilated his pupils were.

You felt your lips pull into a wide smile at his words. "I sure hope so, because I don't know what I do if you kissed people that you don't like, like that." You couldn't help but tease.

You felt Isaac huff against you and opened his mouth to retort, but before he could, you cut him off with another kiss, this one harder than the last one. He melted into the kiss as he let go of your hand and cupped your cheek, his thumb swiping the apple of your cheek as you leaned into his touch.

You don't know who pulled away this time, but Isaac still had his hand on your cheek as you looked at him.

"For the record, I like you too." You said.

"And here I thought you were just kissing me because you hated me." Isaac teased.

A light laugh left your lips as you shoved him slightly. "Shut up. You're a dork."

Isaac chuckled as you pulled away from him and stood up, brushing the sand off of your butt. You stuck a hand out for Isaac, and he took it as he stood up, not letting go once he brushed the sand off.

"Let's go. We have a long drive home, and everyone is gonna crash once we get to my house."

"Could I crash in your bed?" Isaac asked jokingly as you guys walked back to the firepit with the rest of the group, his hand still in yours.

"Sure, just no funny business." You wagged a finger at him, sporting a serious face.

Isaac chuckled and nodded. "No funny business." He made it a point to cross his heart.

"Good." You stopped and leaned up on your toes to peck his lips, but he caught your neck and pulled you in for a passionate kiss. You couldn't help but smile against his lips and melt into it.

You were so glad you had planned this beach day.

247 notes · View notes

stupidocupido · 3 months

Text

house of balloons

aegon ii targaryen x fem!reader | based on this hotd upper east side au

Like the conqueror he was named after, Aegon finds his treasures just to destroy them. Leaving them emotionally unsatisfied, drained of their self-respect, and covered in his cum. He sees it as a challenge, to make even the toughest woman beg for him. And eventually, they all do, because, in the end, all women are the same.

modern au; porn without plot; dom!reader, sub!aegon, blowjob, actual sex, hitting, degrading language; one shot; minors dni

I rewrote an old pwp I posted around 2020 for another character. Enjoy ;)).

All the lights in the office are off. Some eco-bullshit rules the MT came up with to save energy. The only thing that illuminates the place is the mixture of white and red city lights coming in through the windows. Ground to ceiling, the windows don’t open at the top floor, but they give a spectacular view over Kings Landing. From behind the desk, his father has a splendid view over the city, their ancestors worked hard for it after all.

Not a view Aegon currently can enjoy. His mouth is opened, and his tongue is being held between her fingers. It is drying up and when he tries to pull his tongue back, her nails dig into it. He tries to close his mouth, but she refuses to let him go. Instead, she grabs his jaw, pulling his mouth further open.

“You tell so many lies with this pretty tongue of yours—so much wasted energy. There are better things you can waste your energy and tongue on, oh Aegon. Didn’t I teach you that the last time?”

Aegon can only nod and it makes her finally let go. Her fingers are wet with his spit, which she swipes clean on his pants. Her hand stays there, her long nails dark and moving to the inside of his thighs.

“You’re a slow learner, I think you need to redo that particular class.” She sounds more annoyed than angry. He can feel his skin colour red, as he shamefully nods a bit too willingly. It is pathetic how her annoyed tone and scowl get him aroused.

Aegon never saw himself as the submissive type. He knows he is handsome and that it doesn’t take him a lot to talk women into his bed. It probably is a mixture of his arrogance, money, name and looks.

They all long to be dominated, to be domesticated. Women only need to be strong and independent when they open their legs to give birth to a child. They’re only good for three things: to be fucked, to make him a sandwich after and to be fucked again.

At least, that is how Aegon likes to profile himself to the world. The wild Targaryen son, the boy who is overlooked in favour of his older sister. With a father who probably gave him the token Targaryen name so he wouldn’t forget his unwanted son’s name. A mother who probably regrets not using a condom and siblings who are much more interesting and deserving of the Targaryen name than him.

And all those insecurities he masks by drinking, sniffing and fucking his monthly allowance away. Pretending he is the alpha male that boys who long for female attention talk about in their podcasts. Aegon knows, because sometimes they use him as an example in their boring click-bait conversations they post on TikTok.

“You’re so pathetic.” She says as she moves her hand off his thighs again. She pushes her index and middle finger against his lips. “So, like a dumb, mindless, uninspiring child, you need to be taught this one simple lesson again.”

Aegon knows what to do, he opens his mouth to lick her fingers. She pushes them in his mouth immediately. He sucks her fingers off like it’s her cunt. His tongue swirls around her fingers. His pleading eyes look up to her barely illuminated face. Then she pushes her fingers deeper into his mouth, her long nail scraping over the back of his tongue. It makes Aegon gag, his body moves with recoil.

Her laugh is cold and cruel. “Pathetic boy, you want to hit the back of my throat with your dick, but you can’t even take two of my fingers.”

She brings her wet fingers to her mouth, licking Aegon’s spit off her digits. She makes sure to look him straight in the eye as she does so. Aegon had been a very bad boy, telling everyone at the party she had been his latest conquest. When the both of them know the only one who gets pillaged here is the one with the growing erection.

As an intern at the publishing company the Targaryen’s own, her reputation is at risk. She is a serious girl, a hard-working girl. she is everything Aegon is not. Perhaps that is why he keeps on coming back.

“Can you repeat rule number one to me?” Her hand strokes his right thigh. She leans in closer to his face, wanting to make sure she doesn’t miss his words.

“No one will ever know about what happens behind closed doors,” Aegon mutters, looking away from her piercing eyes.

Her stroking stops, and she pushes her nails into his pants. “And which rule did you break, my stupid little boy?”

Her lips are almost touching his when she speaks the words. Aegon swallows the pain that comes with her nails into his skin away. “Rule number one.”

She backs away from him again, her lips curved into a smile that does not reach her eyes.

“Do you know what they do with boys who break rules?”

Both her hands are on his belt, loosening it. Aegon does not dare to look away from her face. They barely did a thing (they didn’t even kiss, for fucks sake!) but he is so turned on already. He shakes his head, pretending he does not know what happens when he breaks her rules.

“No? Well, let me tell you then.” She unzips his pants, her hand immediately sliding into his opened trousers. With her palm she rubs over his erection, scraping the fabric of his black boxers over the sensitive skin.

“They are punished.”

Aegon his head falls back because of her torturous movements. “Yes, please punish me.” He is shocked by the words that so easily fall off his lips. He is shocked by the desperate tone, he is shocked by the want he feels in his body.

He wants to feel her skin against his, but at the same time, he enjoys this building up a little bit too much. Her degrading words made him angry and ashamed at the same time. He is ashamed, that he, the famous Aegon Targaryen, so easily gets walked over. Walked over by a woman even! He is ashamed for liking it so much and feels ashamed he wants to please her. He does not do the pleasing, he is the one who usually is pleased.

Her hand slowly wanders into his underwear, her fingers stroke his pubes. Aegon mentally scolds himself for not shaving. But all his worrisome thoughts disappear when her hand slowly strokes his shaft.

“Such a good boy you are, at least you remembered rule number two.” Her thumb finds his head, circling around it, making her and his skin coated with pre cum. “Manners are what keeps the world spinning after all.” Aegon wants to argue and tell her that strong and rich men keep the world spinning. But for once he is smart and keeps his mouth shut. He knows she’s not happy with him, and he does not like it when she becomes cruel.

“How shall I punish you tonight? Will I make you come so many times you’ll remember who the real conqueror is? Or will I give you nothing at all?” Her hand curls around his cock, her nails pressed harshly into the flesh. Aegon lets out a pained yelp, tears well up in his purple eyes.

“Please don’t, I’ll be good.”

“If only you had thought about being ‘good’ sooner.” She does not loosen her grip, on the contrary, she presses her nails deeper into his sensitive flesh. Aegon his cry is filled with agony, he is afraid she will draw blood.

“I am sorry, I promise I will never do it again.” His voice comes out desperate, he hates himself for being this weak. The humiliation of it colouring his cheeks a rosy tint. She lets go of him and movies off him. Aegon resist the urge to touch where it hurts, instead he watches how she lowers herself. Her bare knees hit the carpet. She pulls his pants down to his ankles, his legs forced apart by her hands.

“No, you will indeed never do it again. Or this will be the last time you’ll be in my mouth.”

She kisses his upper thigh first. Her lips hit the spot where she had been hurting him before.

Her left elbow leans upon his knee, her cleavage pushed against his legs, as she leans forward to touch him again.

Aegon watches how her hand moves down from the tip to the base. His skin is still a bit sore, but Aegon forgets about the pain when her lips are wrapped around his head.

Aegon brings his hands to her head. His neck snaps back, and his eyes close, as he revells in the feeling her warm, wet mouth brings him. But the feeling doesn’t remain there for too long, because only seconds later she releases him from her mouth again.

“Don’t move, or it will be over.” She warns

She takes him slowly, her eyes locked with his. His cock is shiny with spit, her low moans vibrating against his skin.

Aegon really hates it when people are loud chewers. Hates the sound of people eating apples in the office, and despises the sounds girls make when they ‘seductively’ try to suck their iced coffees through a straw. He dislikes it so much it gives him goosebumps and makes him want to snap out to the ones making the disgusting eating sounds.

But the sounds that are produced as she sucks him off, are sounds that no matter how nasty they are, will never annoy him.

He feels like a true king, the way how her head moves up and down between his legs. He will never be able to sit in front of his father’s desk again without remembering what is happening right now. And it feels so good, the way she takes him deeper and deeper. Her tongue slid against the sensitive skin where her nails were before.

His hips buck up, pushing his cock deeper into her mouth. He can feel it hit the back of her throat. The gagging sound she makes, makes him moan.

She presses her nails harshly into his thigh, changing his moan into a yelp of pain. For a moment, Aegon almost forgot who the real power had. Her teeth scrape against his cock as a final warning.

She only sucks the tip now, her tongue swirling around it, to let it pop out of her mouth only a second later. She looks up to his face, brows furrowed. “I told you not to move, Aegon.” The way she says his name makes him feel like a small child and he hates it.

He almost wants to cry when she stands up, ignoring his cock completely. He was so close to coming, painfully close. The tip of his cock is red and leaking with precum. “Not fair.” Aegon groans. “I was so close to making your mouth into a daycare.”

She ignores his disgusting joke. “Why did you break the rule, Aeg?” Her hands move beneath her dress, pulling her panties down in one motion.

Truth be told, he did not like how the other men were talking about her. He was not sure if it was him being possessive, or his ego that needed stroking. There is nothing better than letting dull people know you’re having (or fucking) what they want.

“I guess I didn’t like the way they talked about you.” Her eyes grow larger after his sentence, she clearly did not expect this answer. She climbs on his lap, her hands hold his face, her thumbs stroke over his burning cheeks. Her fingers move into his hair, to the back of his head. This moment feels strangely intimate, and it makes him more uncomfortable than her degrading words do.

“What were they saying?”

Aegon swallows.

“Filthy things only I am allowed to say.”

She kisses him for the first time this night and Aegon is grateful for it. He tastes himself in her mouth, her lips still wet with spit and him. He is fully aware of the fact she’s not wearing panties. Now her dress had ridden up her legs, he can finally feel her warm and wet core against him. Oh, how he wants to be inside her, to feel her cunt clench around his cock when he takes some of his control back. His painful erection hits her leg, as she moves up to deepen the kiss.

“Let me make it up to you.” He is almost willing to beg for it at this point, his hands stroking her back in an attempt to convince her he deserves it. “Please, I want to make you feel good.” She laughs hard at this. “The only thing you want is to fuck me. To spill inside me and to go back to your ‘dominant’ self after.”

She of course is right, but Aegon is too desperate and horny to fight her. “Please, I think I learned my lesson. I want you so bad, please, I would do anything.” She grabs his shoulder, leaning a bit back. The hand that is not holding onto his shoulders moves between her legs.

She’s touching herself, Aegon can’t see what exactly she’s doing beneath her dress, but he knows he wants to be the one to do it. “Anything you say?” Her head tilted to the right, her eyes finding his purple ones.

“Anything.”

She loosens up his tie, pulling the green silk fabric from his neck. His mother had made him wear it, said it belongs to his father.

“Hold your hands together.” Aegon raises his brow. “What?” She slaps his tie against his chest. “Do you want to fuck me or not Aegon?” There, she does it again. Saying his name like he is a piece of trash she needs to clean up. He does what he is told, pushing his wrists against each other.

She ties his hands together with the green silk. Making sure he cannot touch her and control what is about to happen.

She sinks down on him, her skin slapping against his. Aegon’s groans are filling up the office, as she sets the pace. Finally, he is inside her, but he can’t move, he can’t do anything. He is completely at her mercy. He hates that he loves it, to be commanded and tied up by her. She takes him so well, every inch of him filling her as if she was made to do so.

Her right hand is around his throat, pushing his head back. He is so stimulated, so embarrassingly close to his release already.

“You feel so good, baby.” His voice is low, and his eyes are closed.

“You better don’t come before I do.” She says then, but it is too late. Her words make him give in to his release.

In a way it is to punish her, Aegon hates that he likes what she does to him. Hates she is the one who can dominate him. So he climaxes, curses falling from his mouth. Her eyes narrowed, as his hips thrust upwards in the last moments of his aftershock.

He expects her to pull him out, to slap him maybe. Instead, she keeps on moving, in a frantic, rough manner.

It hurts so much, his soft flesh being ridden like this. Her moans are loud, drowning out his moans of pain. “The fuck you thought, coming before I came?” She slaps him.

“Shut up, I hate it when you act all silly and hurt when you get what you deserve.” Aegon his head falls back, feeling a bit foolish for liking the pain.

And when she finally comes, Aegon is panting as loud as she is. She kisses him on the mouth when she finally allows him to slip out of her. “I think you learned your lesson now.”

He can’t help but smile, for the game is over. They can go back to who they are now.

“Keep fucking me like that and I’ll tell father to hire you,” Aegon says. “And when I take over, you can be my assistant.”

He wants to fuck her on every surface in this office. Fuck her against the window while they watch the cars drive by. Fuck her on the plush couch his father always makes him wait on. Make her suck him off while he has online meetings, and let her ride his face while she makes important calls.

“Assitant?” She says in a mocking tone, destroying his fantasies. “I am made to lead, Aegon. Never to serve.”

She loosens up the tie, freeing his hands. She puts her panties back on and straightens her dress. “Clean up your face, it’s covered in my lipstick.” She advises him before leaving him alone.

Aegon grins as he watches her leave, oh, this is just the beginning.

@laedeviour @aegonswife

#aegon ii x reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen #hotd aegon #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon #ueshotd #aegon targaryen smut

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ultimatesmalltownnerd · 9 days

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Naegami talent swap au concept sketches I drew several months ago 🫡

Headcanons for this au under the cut!

•Makoto is still very charismatic, and knows how to get along with people, but it’s for his own gain, rather than because he actually cares about others. For the first two chapters, everyone actually really likes him (except Byakuya, because he figured Makoto out immediately). It isn’t until mid second trial that everyone starts to see him for who he really is- a manipulative piece of shit.

•Makoto has an ongoing, intense, brutal rivalry going on with Komaru for control over their parents’ company. They hate each other.

•Byakuya’s dad is still a manwhore who slept around with multiple women, and has a gajillion kids around Japan. Byakuya doesn’t know any of his half-siblings, and doesn’t care to know them.

•Byakuya’s mom doesn’t like him- he was unplanned, unwanted, and his father disappeared without a trace and doesn’t pay child support. In short, he’s seen as an inconvenience. Because of that, he’s had to essentially learn how to take care of himself, and learn to not rely on anyone else.

•At his shitty middle school, Byakuya spent a lot of time tutoring some of the kids there for extra school credit. Some of those kids had, in one way or another, ties to Mondo’s gang. Word got back to Mondo about him, and he thinks Byakuya is awesome for this, even though they didn’t get to meet until they got trapped in Hope’s Peak. Mondo tries really hard to he his friend, but because Byakuya has very deeply rooted trust issues, it doesn’t work that well.

•Byakuya still catches Mondo leaving the crime scene he made, and finds Chihiro in the locker room, but he doesn’t alter the scene this time. He’s actually really shaken up by it, and refuses to leave his room after finding it, until Monokuma (and Makoto) practically drag him out against his will to participate in the investigation/trial.

•No one likes Byakuya at first, because he doesn’t cooperate, and is blunt with his words. He doesn’t care (or pretends he doesn’t) because he’s never met anyone he could trust in his life thus far, so why would anyone here be trustworthy? It isn’t until the end of the second trial that everyone starts warming up to him. Hina and Sakura even apologize to him for being so rude at first, and say he shouldn’t have had to go through all that. Kyoko also starts asking for his opinion on a lot of stuff about the school, and future trials. Byakuya is appalled by this.

•Something, something, Makoto and Byakuya hold hands, but it takes much longer for them to do that in this au, than in a canon talent au, because neither of them know how to communicate properly, and trust issues are a BITCH.

•Makoto receives the Hina slap in this au LMAO. He’ll never admit it, but it actually really hurts his feelings.

#danganronpa #talent swap au #naegami #makoto naegi #byakuya togami #danganronpa trigger happy havoc #danganronpa thh #danganronpa au

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n30nwrites · 4 months

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Rewind (Bridgerton)

Pronouns: He/Him

Relationships: Anthony Bridgerton x Kate Sharma, Penelope Featherington x Colin Bridgerton, Benedict Bridgerton x Reader, Anthony Bridgerton x Reader, Kate Sharma x Reader, Penelope Featherington x Reader, Colin Bridgerton x Reader

Soulmate AU, Polygamy, Reader is autistic

Warnings; Mentions of homophobia? Mentions of absent parents, Christianity but the Reader doesn't believe in God, Talks of Unwanted touching, Talks about canonical child death and sickness

This is just a small excerpt because no one else will fulfill what I need because I am very much in love with the people surrounding Bridgerton. IDK if I'll continue it.

You weren't the eldest son, nor were you the youngest. A Classic middle child, having your older brothers torture you and your younger ones followed in their footsteps soon enough. But all of your siblings wanted one thing.

Your parent's attention.

Your father, The King George, was a mad men, at least he was considered one. Your mother was too busy ruling England and keeping everything picture perfect to really care about you guys.

Well you didn't really count yourself as one of your siblings.

Simply because you weren't meant to be here.

When you were first taken to this universe, you had been a babe, just freshly born. It was strange, to have full consciousness when being a young'en. The minute you could, you were walking and talking, far earlier than any other babe, but you had too.

By the time you were five, you had been considered a spectacle. The prodigal son, they claimed. You had your wits, you were respectable, truly the perfect gentleman.

You played your cards right, up until you couldn't.

Growing older meant more siblings, and you took care of them the best you could. But you hated these new rules. You couldn't be alone with a woman who wasn't a relative, your brothers were rude and loved it, and your sisters were innocent. Naive really, which you felt was a strange thing. To know about Sex but they couldn't. You tried to teach your sisters as well, education was the future.

But it was all useless.

Eventually you became a recluse. You stuck to yourself, in your room with instruments. Your English guitar, harp-lute, piano, and even the improper ones like a violin, cello and flute. You had to make the best of a situation, and that was what you did.

Even well into your adulthood, your brothers were still your biggest bullies. They thought you were a prude for never having Sex, which frankly if women couldn't without being criticized and shamed, then you shouldn't either. They said you were secretly a woman, or queer.

Well you could attest you weren't a woman, and well you kind of were queer. Bisexual, but they wouldn't know that word.

But you were brought into this universe for some odd reason. You weren't sure why, you didn't really get into Bridgerton like everyone else. Not that you were different from others, you just couldn't commit to watching a tv series, but you had seen the edits.

It just made no sense for you to be the one. It wasn't until the marks appeared that you understood.

Soulmates. That was a new adaption. Apparently they were rare, rare enough that out of all your siblings, you were the only one to have one. Your mother said it was a gift from God, though you thank she only said that because the bishop was there when you got them.

Them as in multiple, that put the bishop out of his head. He said it was blasphemous, you were too entranced with them to care. A matching soulmark would tie you to these people. 5 people.

That was a lot of people to keep happy. Especially when this century wasn't very happy with queer couples and polyamory. After that, your mother had insisted you hide them, and you weren't willing to risk a Romanov situation because people were too religious.

Your mother didn't like that you weren't religious, but she didn't bring it up again after one intense arguement that caused you to leave for a few weeks.

But you agreed with her, you wouldn't tell others. You were here to find a way out, you already had some ideas, one being a specific spot in the woods where you found something from the future.

A portable Radio/Cassette player. Wasn't that far in the future where you were, but it would work. You had headphones with it, and you finally felt some sort of sanity. Music in this era wasn't nearly as relaxing as yours was.

Keeping to yourself was easy after that. Every servant was ordered to knock on your door loudly by you, and to stop any sibling that would come your way just in case they caught you. Your servants were almost your friends, you knew they were reqired to be there, to be kind to you, but it was the closest you had to an actual relationship.

You stayed away from your mother on days like this. She's irritated, you don't know why, you don't care to ask. Your siblings are stomping around the palace but you don't move from your room, you instead walk around your room, shirtless, listening to your music. Your favorite servant, Zelena, is behind you, just watching you. She's always been touchy with you, your hair, your chest, you assumed it was just the way she communicated. And while you were uncomfortable with it, your mother had told you that you couldn't afford to be rude to people.

Zelena stayed next to you while you played the English Guitar. You knew enough about it in your old life, having made adjustments to the strings to be able to play older songs. The ones you could remember (Which you wrote down because eventually, you wouldn't.)

You ignore the knock at the door, simply nodding your head to Helena, who opens the door gently.

A gentleman is at the door, he's staring at you the minute he walks in. Like he's almost amazed at you, you didn't understand.

You never did.

He seems to look at you yet avoids eye contact. You set the instrument down to the side, gently. "Can I help you sir?"

He says your name, and you nod your head. "Can we be alone?" He asks. Your mother said it was improper to be with women alone, not men. So you nod your head and your maids walk out of the room. You figured this man was a duke or something, he had to be important considering he was in the castle. Perhaps a suitor for one of your sisters.

"My name is Benedict Bridgerton."

"Bridgerton? I've heard stories about your family before from my mother. She enjoys the drama that surrounds your family." You tell him, "Last I heard the Viscount found a wife."

"My brother, Anthony." He confirms.

"What brings you to my room?" You question. "Surely it's not to tell me about your family?"

"I just had to meet you."

"You really didn't." You frown slightly, to be fair, you knew a bit about Benedict. You weren't the biggest fan of his story, kidnapping a bride from her wedding day and tying her to a pole. It was strange, but you couldn't change the writers opinion. At least you think that was his story, TikTok could only tell you so much and it's not like you read the books.

You could only hope that it was different in the tv series, considering that's where you were right now. The actor himself you knew very little about as well, but you didn't really care for actors. You stood from the couch in your room, "Why is the artist here?"

"You know of my work?"

"I know a lot of things Sir." You take a few steps away from the couch. "Can you get to the point?"

He seems unsure now, fiddling with his fingers. "You're my soulmate" He tells you, and you look down at one of your marks.

"Which mark are you?" You question, and he looks hopeful. He pulls up his sleeve, the little feather on your wrist, in matching spots. You looked at your own and slightly traced it.

"Benedict!" The voice is angry and your door opens. You glare at the person who opened it. He didn't knock. It's Anthoyn Bridgerton, looking angry. "Benedict what are-"

"Next time Viscount I would ask that you knock instead of rudely interrupting." You cut him off, glaring at him. He seems to have brought a group of people behind him. Benedict stands up and walks right next to you. You put your hands behind your back, picking at your wrist. "It seems you've brought company." You tell Benedict.

"I was about to explain." He tells you, but you look at Anthony, more specifically behind him. You can see your mother through the crowd.

"If we must speak, we will not do it in my room." You grab Benedict's wrist, still refusing skin-to-skin, and pull him with you. Your glare causes the eldest Bridgerton to move to the side, he walks next to his wife.

Outside your room is a lot of people, it's almost overwhelming. There's the Featheringtons, really you only recognized Penelope but you knew by the yellow dress that they had to be her relatives. You could guess they were her sisters and the eldest-looking was her mother. You then saw your own mother, with what seemed like all of your siblings behind her. You rolled your eyes, your eldest brother seemed to glare at you. He hated you though, and you didn't particulary care. You just hated the drama that came with them. Then the Bridgertons. All of them, it seems. The eldest Bridgerton son is there with his wife, Kate. As is their mother, then Benedict who was next to you, Colin who seemed to glance between you and Penelope, Daphne with her husband, Simon. Eloise, Francesca (you truly hoped she got a better story in this show than the books), Gregory and Hyacinth.

"Brimsley, a pleasure to see you again." You avoid everyone to speak to your mother's right-hand man.

"Perhaps if you came out of your room more sir."

"Ah but if I did I might just die." You smile slightly, "Especially if I see William's face." Your brother takes a step towards you but quickly faltors at your mother's expression. "What have I done to warrant a family meeting without me."

"Being born really." George remarked and you smiled at him, cruelly.

"Brother you make me wish I wasn't and that instead I was with Charlotte, Amelia, Alfred and Octavius." What you said was cruel. Amelia died of tuberculosis, Alfred and Octavius died of smallpox, and the young Princess Charlotte who you weren't really sure how you died, you were barely there during the funeral. George (The fourth?) seemed to quiet down, looking sad. You were being rude, you didn't care. They back you into a corner and you attack, like always. "Edward! If you want to strike me you might as well try, but we both know you lack in that department, and many others."

"Quiet." Your mother tells you, and you wish you could care but you didn't. "This doesn't pertain you." She says your name gently, as if convincing you to calm down.

"Obviously it does if it has my soulmate running towards me." You jest towards Benedict. "What? Now that my attraction to men is out we must kill them all? It's not like it's been a secret."

"It is not godly." One of your brothers say.

"God is not Godly." You dennounce him, "You follow a book that has been rewritten multiple times, through many different languages. I do not believe in your God, you know that."

"Hush." Your mother calls your name and you just stare at her. "This was for the better of the Kingdom."

"Why does the Kingdom matter more than I?" You question, "Frankly, none of this does. But why are the Bridgertons and the Featherington's here?"

"You know who we are?" One of the other Featherington sisters say, she seems hot, considering the red to her face.

"I know of Penelope." You looked to her and nodded. "Who wouldn't? She's absolutely beautiful." You notice the looks that you recieve after you say your words. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, I just think its best-"

"She wants to discourage us from going after you." Benedict says as he grabs your wrist causing you to look at him.

"Us?"

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rottendollface · 9 months

Text

Sons of Sin.

Request by: @bigtimesalt8196

Character: Childe Tartaglia | Ajax.

Warnings: NSFW; Little Red Riding Hood AU, different lore of Archons, werewolf yandere Ajax, narcissistic Aether with sadistic inclinations, female reader is a radical believer, Ajax was born from a different man, incest, crowd collapse, cannibalism, unwanted marriage, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink, oral sex, bestiality, fingering, knotting, slight lactation kink, planned murder, voyeurism, 18+.

W/C: 9388.

Art by: Pixart AI.

When the hunger awoke there was nothing more, but pain – pain of cracked bones and stretched out joints. Not a scream, but a feral howl could be heard, as Ajax experienced his first transformation in the deepest of the impenetrable forest. You woke up from the echoes of roar that made windows in your room rattle. You froze in your bed in fear, but curiosity took over you and you got up, coming to the window on your tiptoes. You looked out, and the yard was clean, no sign of someone's presence.

Without a candle you stepped into the darkness of the corridor and rushed to the nursery, where Teucer and Tonya lived. “It's me,” you whispered, opening the creaking door; you heard both of them sobbing and tried to calm them. “It's okay, little ones. That's our Patron Saint howling in the forest, foretelling the Blood Moon.”

You came to their shared bed. Both Tonya and Teucer curled in dread, hugging each other. Their bed stayed against the wall, so you took the unprotected side, hiding them behind your figure. Like a young gentleman he was, Teucer had always let Tonya sleep against the wall, as she was afraid of the dark. You felt Teucer clinging to you, and Tonya did the same, but to him. You reached your hand, trying to hug both of them at the same time. With you by their side, your younger siblings felt safe and finally relaxed.

“Sleep, my ducklings,” you soothed. ”There is nothing to be afraid of. Your older brother will do everything right. Have faith in him.”

Before the festival of the Blood Moon the oldest son of the head of the village had to step into the forest to present the gifts to the Patron Saint – Ajax was the chosen one, and you were praying for him to return from the mission safely. You knew he would be alright, yet you asked the Patron to have mercy on Ajax and bring him back home.

You were humming a chant until Tonya and Teucer fell asleep, then you got up and left noiselessly. In the corridor you saw a glimpse of candle light and Aether, your groom, appeared in front of you immediately after.

“Is everything okay?” Aether murmured, anxiety on his face. You sighed – no more frightened children for you tonight.

“Yes. Please come to your bedroom, Aether.” You patted him on his bare shoulder. “You shouldn't walk in a negligee. Someone could see you.”

“I'm sorry. You know, those sounds…” Aether became confused at how you raised your brows in mock and disbelief, so he coughed to change the subject. “May the rest of the night be good for you.”

“Same for you. Now, please excuse me.” You hurried to your room. Again, you peeked through the window to see at least traces of Ajax on the white snow, yet again you saw nothing.

Ajax was special to you. Frequent touches and an urge to do everything all together: it were the reasons father started searching for a husband for you. Father knew how a woman's charm could make a man's head clouded, and Ajax, who was born from a different seed, could fall for it easily. Father's concerns towards Ajax's and your relationship were vile, yet they were true – both of you fell for the same sin of incest. Ajax was the result of your mother's first marriage, so everyone in the family counted him as an alien, a descendant of a different breed, despite the fact that all of the family's children shared the same mother. He was treated with the same love and respect, but deep inside everyone in the house, except mother, thought of him as a stranger at home.

Mother's silent approval of your relationship with Ajax was the starting point of the communication turning into a love affair. For you Ajax's attention was something you craved for. Ajax was reliable, kind and brave. He was always on your side, ready to protect you from everything: Ajax could sacrifice the world for you, and you knew no one would treat you with as much respect and care as him.

Ajax understood his affection towards you was different from teenage years. Your figure and your facial features were much more elegant than other brothers' and sisters'. Your steps were imponderable, your moves were extensively gracious, and your presence was radiating with vitality and joy. Smile on your lips could make everyone's day brighter, and the tender gaze of your glistening eyes was the only thing every village man dreamed of seeing. You had a supernatural charm and used it instinctively, making everyone fall in love with you from just one sight. You were precious: hospitable and selfless. Everything Ajax admired in women was collected in you, making you the most desirable one, and the temptation of forbidden fruit made him lose his head over you. He knew you would be a perfect mother. Your love was a glory to him, and Ajax was dreaming about starting a family with you. He wanted to see you nursing his offspring, wanted to come home, and be greeted by your kisses and hugs from his children. Ajax was ashamed to admit to himself that he thirsted to see you breastfeeding his child. Once he saw mother doing that, and a scandalous fantasy appeared in his head, never wanting to leave. Just the idea of a child sucking on your swollen nipple and your breasts round, full of milk, made Ajax blush from arousal.

Maybe your beauty and virtue were the reason why Aether, the named prince of newly founded territories of Snezhnaya called the Abyss, agreed to marry you without hesitation. Both, Ajax and you, were shocked at the news of your approaching wedding. You rebelled: you didn't want to marry and wanted to spend at least five more carefree years in your family, not to serve some stranger. Father was sure he needed to send you out of the house, and the Blood Moon was the best time to do so. Father found a perfect man for you – Aether, an outlander from the capital who owned a business of search and excavation of minerals. He was a few years older than you, handsome and wealthy to be counted as a good groom.

Aether arrived at the village not so long ago, his horses were resting at the same stable with yours, and his carriage was staying in the backyard. He was welcomed, settled in the best room of the house and got surrounded by care from elders and waggish affection from children. Your family accepted him and tried to make him feel like home in your house, yet Ajax and you weren't sharing the same excitement from Aether's presence. You were acting demure and cold, while Ajax didn't try to hide his irritation and hostility towards Aether. Ajax hated the way Aether was walking around the house and eyeing everything with interest and confusion: unlike people from the Capital, you, the residents of the village in Snezhnaya's outskirts, had different beliefs and traditions that baffled outlanders. There was an altar with a self-painted ikon (it depicted a creature with a human body, but a wolf's head), surrounded by candles and flowers, on every door frame there were carved out runes, all the kids in the village were wearing bracelets of black tourmaline, and no bibles of Archons could be found in the whole village. The difference between Aether and your family was clear: he believed in the Seven, and you believed in the local God, which was branded as false and destroyed by the Seven. In the Capital you were called heretics, in the village Aether was called traitor. Ajax was a radical believer and outlander's ignorance made him furious. You could call yourself a radical too, but you had patience and didn't have problems with heathens, until they respected your faith.

Maybe the roots of miscommunication between Aether and you laid in the different background, maybe it was a fear of Ajax's fervent jealousy that made you avoid your groom. You knew for sure that you would never be able to betray your heart and chose Aether instead of Ajax. You didn't want him as your friend even: Aether's presence made you nervous, but you had to act like a welcoming person not to disgrace your family. From his side, Aether showed you signs of affection and seemed to be genuinely interested in you – it made you nauseous. You were tired of smiling at him and acting happy for the gifts he gave you, but you didn't need him and his trinkets. It was the bitter truth, but your father chose to stay blind to it. He made a good deal and didn't want to lose any profit from it: Aether's company got permission to extract minerals from the village's abandoned mines and sell them, but the half of earned money belonged to the villagers.

You got up earlier than everyone else and searched for Ajax. You found him in his bedroom, sleeping tightly from night events. You kissed him on the forehead gently – you wanted to ask him so many things but kept your curiosity tamed. You closed the door to his room and went to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for the family. Aether came down when you were in the process of baking sweet buns. You tensed up, but couldn't do anything about it.

“Happy Blood Moon, Aether,” you gave him a wide smile. Today was the day of the festival, and you were looking forward to dancing, music and contests. “Give me a minute, please, and I'll serve you something to eat.” You placed buns into the oven and began to bustle around the kitchen.

“Aren't we supposed to wait for everyone else and eat all together?” His voice sounded deliberately uninterested. You opened your mouth to answer him, but felt his hands squeezing your hips, then his figure pressing to yours. It was easy to take you by surprise, as you were standing with your back to him. He bucked his hips into yours, making you put your hands in front of you to keep balance. Aether's warm lips brushed against your neck, his agile fingers were reaching under your heavy wool skirt. “We have plenty of time, and I know a faster way to pass it. With pleasure, of course.”

“No!” You clung on his wrists, clawing into Aether's skin until he hissed. “I don't want to!”

“Come on, don't be such a coy, I'm your groom after all. Not all the methods include penetration, if you are afraid of it.” He giggled, moving one of his hands to your breast. You tried to break free, but he just pressed you tighter between his body and the corner. “Didn't your mother teach you what is happening between man and woman?”

“I'm on my period!” You made one more attempt and this one was successful. Quickly, Aether got his hands off of your body and excused himself. He left the room so as not to embarrass himself and you.

You weren't so coy and shy as Aether thought of you. You laid with man and were no stranger for passion, but the only one who had access to your body was Ajax. Aether's touches made you disgusted, and the responsibility of sharing bed with him made you frightened. He expected to marry a virgin, while you were so experienced you could teach him the true art of carnal love. What would Aether do after convicting you of obscenity? You were frightened at this point. The only way for you to find an answer to how to hide your past was to confess to your mother and ask for help. You knew she wouldn't make trouble from it, yet you felt ashamed.

You spend about an hour alone in the kitchen until mother came; Tonya and Teucer ran ahead of her. Mother kissed you on the cheek first, then on your forehead. She was calm as always, it seemed like nothing could disturb her tranquility. Then father came along with Aether: they were chatting about something, both obviously pleased by the topic. Your heart dropped. You were waiting for Ajax, but it seemed he was too exhausted to get up so early.

The family took places at the table, and Ajax appeared at the doorstep. “Brother!” You exclaimed, happiness on your face and glint in your eye. You ran to hug him, when your arms grasped him tightly, you heard a silent groan. Ajax patted you back weakly. “How did it go?”

“Like it should. Perfectly fine.” Ajax smiled, yet on his tired face it looked poorly.

“Hail to the Saint Werewolf!” You raised your hands above your head and folded them in a prayer gesture. “May the Blood Moon wash the sins from our village and bless another year with a good harvest and enough prey.”

“Hail to the Saint.” Ajax repeated after you and made the same gesture.

Father gazed down, perturbed by your religious enthusiasm. He looked at Aether slyly, trying to find a shade of disgust or anger on his face, but Aether seemed confused only.

“It's good to remember about your roots, but we don't bring any religious manner to the festival anymore, dear,” father spoke to you loudly. Mother scoffed, and Ajax frowned his eyebrows immediately. “We should worship The Seven only, don't forget about this.”

“On our land we should worship our God, not the usurpers.” Ajax demanded. He pushed you back and stepped in front of you, ready to argue. “Everyone who comes into the village should obey its rules, or go away with their ugly gods. There is no other option.”

“He is right,” You took your brother by his hand and pulled back gently, shortening his temper. “We have a great history and shouldn't be ashamed of it. Shame is the first sign of vulnerability.”

You held your head high, irradiating pride in your brother and the strength of your beliefs, so did mother, smiling with the corners of her lips only. Tonya and Teucer were busy playing rock-paper-scissors and didn't care about affairs of adult life. Aether just shrugged his shoulders, as he didn't want the conflict to continue. Even for him it was clear that father, despite being in rule in the village, was treated with neglect and skepticism by his own family, but he seemed to be perfectly fine with it. Mother was ruling the family from the shadows and you took after her. You got control over Ajax, making yourself a second authority figure, and was in charge of solving minor problems. Since the first day here, Aether noticed that your older brother was following you everywhere like a dog and looking at everyone with a wolf's gaze, full of anger, when someone tried to communicate with you. Maybe it was the traditions of your community, but Aether didn't like it at all. Aether believed that a wife should be humble and afraid of her husband, and you were an untamed horse. He was looking forward to breaking your character after the wedding. It wouldn't be easy work for sure, yet there was something exciting in restraining someone so impetuous and mentally strong.

Breakfast went surprisingly peacefully. Hours were left until the festival, so children were playing in the living room, while Ajax, Aether and you were watching after them.

“So what great history is behind the festival's origin?” Aether asked, trying to start the conversation.

"In the festival we pay tribute to the sacred protector of the village – the werewolf." You explained with a merry voice, preparing yourself to tell the whole legend. "The legend says that long before Archons descended to Teyvat, the long forgotten God created the world. The God created human creatures, a man and a woman. To protect them, it created a wolf and assigned him guarding humans, but the evil rose from the underworld. The evil assured the God that his creations were too perfect and it would lead the world to imbalance – so to keep the sacred balance, the God's every creature should have a gift from the evil as well. The God agreed, and allowed evil to spill his gifts to his creatures. The wolf was gifted with envy, the man was gifted with hubris and the woman was gifted with fear. Once, when the God left its children without care, the man started treating the wolf with neglect. In order to make the wolf fear him and respect him, the man was beating the animal. The woman, afraid of her husband, was just watching the process with tears in her eyes. The wolf was watching how the man and the woman lived together, and he felt envy for what they had: the wolf, too, wanted a mate, but the God forgot to make one for it. That's why deep at night, when the man tried to beat the wolf one more time, the wolf attacked him and killed the first man in the world, and took his wife as its mate. After this night the Moon in the Sky turned red from the blood of the man, and the wolf hid in the forest with its woman, where she birthed him many children, half-human and half-wolf, and they founded many villages, where they passed their genes from one generation to another; they protected each other, as well as everyone else, who asked for protection."

“How can you worship the one who killed the first man? Why didn't your god punish the beast for that?” Perplexed, Aether recalled the holy scripture of Archons and found it way more fair.

“Because he deserved this.” Ajax grunted, clenching his fists.

“No one deserved nothing,” you hurried to make up for your brother. “It was the natural order of balance. Hubris took over the man and made him sin which led to evil imbalance. The wolf atoned for the guilt by protecting people and honoring his children to do so. The balance was restored.”

“Never should an animal have power over a man.” Aether shook his head. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Ajax clenching his fists.

“Our God was killed by Archons and Archons ordered us to forget our roots. They pursued us into the depths of the forest because our religion is different and they tried to rewrite our history. We suffered enough persecution, so don't start a fight over such a sensitive problem.” You blurted out, noticing Ajax's anger building up. One more word and he would sprang at Aether. “We want peace.”

Aether gave up. He switched his gaze to a burning fireplace, musing. You did as well, letting anxiety take over you. Historically, only villagers were allowed to participate in the festival. By inviting Aether, father did him a great honor, but Saint Patron could get angry at this. Was the wealth of the whole village worth the feelings of one man? If you were the one to rule, you would have never allowed an outlander to the festival. You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed heavily. Father was the only problem of your family. He led the village for twenty years, and during his ruling the faith was called into question. The movement of traitors, who believed in the Seven, became more popular with every year. Father tried to contain it, but gently, reluctantly even. You didn't know what to do. As an elder's daughter, you were acting the role of keeper of traditions. You finished the local church school and knew about dissent between priests, as you had seen it with your eyes while studying there. The village was falling apart slowly, and you were afraid the last day of it would come soon.

Before leaving for the festival, Ajax asked you to spare a moment for him. He waited until others left, then he took your hands in his, chattering indistinctly. Ajax told you he had to go and check for grandmother, then he pleaded you to be careful in his absence. You noted his hands were extremely warm and trembling, but Ajax assured you he was alright. He kissed you on your lips quickly and left. It was a simple kiss, yet you felt excited.

The celebration began after a solemn speech from father. Music filled the village, and the fair was full of delicious food, sparkling drinks and sweet pastries; on the main street a theatrical performance unfolded. Common happiness made the old grudges disappear. Aether was exploring bright intricate decorations with interest. Tonya cried to you to go to the contests, and you only managed to warn mother on where both of you were going.

Time passed quickly, but the festival was building up momentum. Tonya, excited after games, didn't want to go home and took you to the fair. Tired, you were following Tonya, who was running from one stand to another, choosing what to eat. She decided to have a slice of blueberry pie and a cup of hot tea. You paid for her, and finally took a place to rest. Tonya was full of energy despite hours of active games. After a short break she wanted to go see a performance on the main street. It was dark already, but lanterns of various colors and forms were lightened, making the atmosphere dreamlike – of course she wanted to stay for a little long.

Joyful, she finished her tea time. You returned dishes to the owner and took Tonya's little hand in yours. She was hopping and humming a song to herself. You stopped at the stage; actors were playing a scene from local myths: one of the actors was dressed in a wolf mask and fur, another had a red oblong devil mask. You weren't familiar with this story, so you focused on the performance. Tonya, who was waiting for something more funny, got bored. Skillfully made costumes and attention to details of the initial myth didn't impress her.

Performance moved to the conflict part: when the wolf-actor opened the mask's muzzle, a horrifying deep roar came out. Blood froze in your veins, at how naturally and loud the sound was produced. Actors stalled, both of them were confused and just looked at each other. You looked around and noticed an enormously big shadow approaching, but before you could do something, it attacked. In a moment a human howl of terror and pain covered the whole village, an uncontrollable panic started. Then followed frightened horses neighing and wailing of cattle. You almost managed to take Tonya up in your arms, and the crush started. Afraid, people from the front rows pushed everyone who was behind them; others, who were running to the main street were bumping into fleeing. You covered Tonya's head with your arm to protect it; it was hard for you to stay on your feet, as you tried to break out the crowd. Bodies pressed to you, didn't let you slip out, you got hit with elbows and the crowd was stepping on your toes. You were about to fall into hysteria, and Tonya's cry right near your ears made it worse. You pleaded to your God, and by attempt you slipped into free space, but you didn't run away for too long: the village fell in infernal chaos, the fair was engulfed in flames, and screams with running people made you lose your vigilance. Someone ran into you at full speed, knocking you down. You fell on your back, protecting Tonya, and hit your head badly. Your vision blurred, a piercing whistling going in your ears. You couldn't even understand the position of your body, but you felt how Tonya was shaking you, trying to bring you to your senses. You closed your eyes and her hands disappeared, so you opened them with great effort, yet it was so slow you saw only someone taking her away. You groaned and rolled over on your stomach, clenched into frozen ground and crawled. A bloody stain was left where your head laid.

You stood up on shaking legs, your head was pulsating with pain, making it more difficult to keep balance. In the distance you heard screams and roars. You looked down – snow was crimson with blood, and mutilated corpses with missing limbs and ripped out internal organs filled the street. The horrific scene made you feel uneasy at your stomach, yet it brought you back to a normal state, the pain didn't feel so intense anymore.

“Tonya!” You screamed, tearing your throat, but it was muffled by the deafening ringing of the church bell. You screamed again, hoping that she would give you a sign. You didn't care that you could attract the werewolf – it was the execution for sins, the fair end for non-believers and the retribution for the reckless deeds of your father. You were pure, but if in your destiny you were meant to die this night, you would meet your end with no fear. “Tonya!”

A shuffle started in the hangar and you rushed to check on it. Tonya looked from her hideout behind the straw bale. “I'm here…” she whispered and you fell on your knees in front of her, hugging her tightly. Tonya was shaking and crying, clinging to you – she was afraid that you died, but was too scared to go out and look for help. You were her last hope to keep her sanity clear.

“Hold on brave. Pray, Tonya. This is the only thing we can do.” You covered her ears, when there was a scream.

“What if Teucer, mommy?..” She didn't finish the sentence as tears made her throat spasm.

“We are pure, Tonya. Nothing will happen to us.” You cooed, caressing her back. Heavy steps behind the hangar made you strain. You stood up to check on what was going on and froze, when you saw a werewolf in front of you.

Tonya followed you and screamed after she looked from behind you back. For your whole life, you imagined a werewolf as a scary large wolf, but your imagination deceived you. It was a deformed ugly beast of a colossal size – it filled a big part of the hangar, making it impossible to leave. It had light fur, clumped with blood, its large mouth was full of teeth and long canines that protruded from the muzzle even when it was closed. Enormous paws were bigger than your head. Its blue eyes had no shine and looked wild, bloodthirsty. Its whole figure combined both features of human and beast in the most disturbing way: wolfish, yet still human muzzle with too sensible eyes and even emotions on it; beastly, yet humanly flexible body with long limbs. You made a step back, shielding Tonya.

“I know you want to save the faith, keeper of traditions.” The werewolf spoke to you, and you gasped in disbelief. For a moment you decided that it was a lie, an illusion of an inflamed brain, but it was true: the werewolf came closer, his muzzle up to your face, which made you back away in disgust. “Now it's time for you to perform your duty. You will go with me. I will be back in three days, waiting for you in a hollow. Keep silent about our conversation. Fail – and I'll kill everyone without mercy.”

Your eyes rounded and your breathing turned heavy. Did he mean you have to sacrifice yourself? You would do so immediately, if Tonya wasn't there… or was it just an excuse? You were exposed to death and nemesis that merged and embodied in the face of the Saint you worshiped, but you were filled with dread. You didn't want to die – only a look at ugly muzzle made tears pour down your eyes even though you didn't want to cry. It was an honor to die for your God, sacrifice yourself in order to save the whole village, but you weren't ready. Yet you nodded, and the werewolf roared, then retreated, moving his limbs like a spider.

Tonya clung on your coat, but you were standing frozen, trying to process everything that happened a moment before. Suddenly you regained composure, took Tonya up your hands and left the hangar. The whole village fell into dead silence: people were too scared to go outside and sat in safety, waiting for sunrise. The fair burnt out. By a miracle the fire didn't spread to the whole village and caused minor damage.

In the distance you saw Aether running from one house to another, searching for you. You wanted to scream for him, but couldn't – your voice betrayed you, letting out only a wheeze, so you headed to him, then your fast steps turned into running.

“By Archons!” Aether took Tonya from your tired hands carefully, his wide palm brushed hair fell on her face to check for wounds. “Are you both alright?”

The pain in your nape made you grimace. You were recovering from shock, and felt exhausted to the point of losing conscience. “Where's Teucer? And mom?”

“They are safe, hiding in the church with everyone else.” Aether shooed at Tonya, who started tossing and turning in his embrace, as she heard of another sibling. You looked at him with a gaze full of endless gratitude. “I… I wanted to say I'm sorry for my behavior. I've been vulgar… I just got too excited to know you better. I promise, I'll be a different man to you.”

“It's okay, Aether, everyone makes mistakes.” You didn't know what else to answer. His confession was so inappropriate, yet so sincere you couldn't let yourself break a rush of his soul. Maybe he was afraid he would die unforgiven and there was fear speaking through him at the moment – you didn't know, and you didn't want to know.

Ajax showed up on the street, bewildered at the scene in front of him. He bypassed corpses and puddles of blood, looking at it with interest. “What happened there?”

“A massacre!” Aether blurted angrily. “Where were you when all of this happened?!”

You looked at Ajax, then at Aether, not realizing the point of his outrage.

“He was at grandmother's. Why?” You shouted, a burning feeling in your chest, as you felt Aether tried to implicate Ajax in cowardice. Aether's eyes widened as he didn't expect you to snap at him.

“You chose the wrong time to fight.” Ajax stood between you and him, stopping the argument. “We have to carry Tonya home.”

Tonya pulled her hands to Ajax, and he took her from Aether with envy.

The night went like a fever dream and the morning after was even worse. From the earliest hour the mourning for the dead started and the whole village split in two radical opinions: old believers and traitors. The first demanded to send out the outlander and pray for forgiveness, then return back to original faith and worship the true God without looking back at Archons. Traitors claimed that the night revealed a true devilish nature of the former religion and recommended killing the beast and praying to the Seven. You took the responsibility and came to the crowd to declare the side of your family – as a keeper, you were wearing a red cloak with a hood, so people could see you easily. You tried to preach to the people, but most of them didn't want to listen to you. Crowd was screaming at you and calling you out to beg for forgiveness for every killed and explain why your family was safe and sound during the night. You were shocked to the point you lost your words, on which the crowd reacted with anger. Old believers, who were supporting you fully, started shouting insults at traitors; traitors lost their temper and started a fight. The brawl ended after Ajax took his rifle and made a couple of warning shots.

Even in one home there was a conflict of interests. Mother, Ajax and you chose the point of old believers, while father and Aether were insisting on the opposite. Aether was determined to take you and younger siblings to the capital, and father agreed with him. Father scolded you in front of all the family for your attempt to admonish the villagers, it was the first time he screamed at you. Yet it didn't last for long: Ajax jumped out from behind your back and seized father by the collar. You tried to pull Ajax back, but mother stopped you.

“He deserved this,” she whispered to you, looking at the scene with cold eyes. Mother had no pity towards her husband, her heavy hand was laying on your shoulder to prevent even a smallest attempt from you to stop Ajax: he was about to fight father, and for the first time father fend for himself and punched Ajax in his nose.

Aether tried to help father and in a moment the conflict changed its focus from religious controversies to jealousy over you. Madness that covered the village, made you fall on your knees and start praying, as there was nothing else left for you to do.

Disputes were lasting for the whole morning, until mother asked Ajax to go check on grandmother with her. You begged mother to go with Ajax instead of her – you loved grandmother dearly and didn't see her for ages. Despite her age she was lively, yet the way from her cabin to the village was too hard for her to go, so your family brought her provisions every month and visited her from time to time. Mother denied you, and they left the house.

Ajax and mother were coming through the dunes of snow and fallen trees in silence, as Ajax was depressed and only sniffed viciously, wiping away his nose the blood that was still flowing. Grandmother wasn't happy to see them together – it meant that something was coming off of the plan. She gave Ajax a long hug and a few kisses on his forehead.

“What happened to the boy?” Grandmother spat on the floor disgustedly.

“Stuck into a fight for the love of his life,” mother answered with a sneer, then clicked her tongue in irritation. “They're gonna drive me crazy. Everything goes wrong. Did you talk to her as a werewolf? What did she tell you?”

Ajax frowned. “Nothing. She was silent.”

“I don't think there will be any trouble with our dove,” grandmother squinted her eyes. “But with this capital's bastard, yes. I told you not to marry the village's elder. I hope now you understand why.”

“It was the only way for me to save Ajax after his father's death! There were times of hunger and stagnation, and he, as an elder, had always had a piece of bread at his table. How was I supposed to care for Ajax, hunt and birth other children for our plan?!” Mother cried. “And then I had to make them… fuck each other in order to save the bloodline! Do you think it's easy?”

“Yes, it is.” Grandmother stated, ignoring her daughter's roar. “I was able to marry a werewolf from another clan, but my sister had to lay with our brother, and she lived a happier life than I did. Unfortunately, after those seven usurpers appeared, they killed them all.”

“But she is half human… is it really going to work out?” Ajax said, finding his voice.

“You are worrying too much,” grandmother laughed at Ajax's perplexed face. “Yes, it will work after the ritual, dear. Just do it without thinking.”

“How can you say this?” Ajax was on the verge of tears. “Why does it have to be this way?!”

“Because this is the rules of our world. The world we inherited from our God. Keep your head up, Ajax. Don't worry about me and don't pity me. I lived my life here.” Grandmother laughed with a dry old voice.

“No!..” Ajax's hands started shaking. “What if she refuses… How is she supposed to react to that?!”

“Then we will kill her and wait for Tonya to grow up.” Mother stared intently at Ajax. Shivers ran down his spine at only thought of losing you and going through the same events again, but with Tonya.

“You are being too pessimistic.” Grandmother gave up on her and trotted to the cabinet. She took a vial from it and passed it to Ajax. “Three drops into her drink twice a day and she will be fine. Don't thank me.”

You ran away from the home and hid in the church, praying without pause. Blindfolded by your pride you thought of yourself as a holier than holies, when in reality you craved a vile sin of incestuous passion and hubris.

Aether tried his best to save his sanity, but he was on the limit. He was on the point of losing everything: starting with marriage and ending with his life – danger made him play reckless. Your presence was the only escape from that horror. He took you home from the church: you tried to stay, but Aether just grabbed you by your hand roughly and drew you out on the street. Aether felt that you were vulnerable – the perfect world you used to live in was falling apart, so his treatment became rough. From day to day you were more depressed and taciturn, you didn't react to his attempts to seek your affection and gave him meaningless kisses and hugs, lacking life and passion. Your despair drowned Aether in negative emotions as well, made him take love from you violently. He felt so useless, so unwanted here, it brought him so much pain he had never felt in his entire life. You were unfairly cruel to him – you made him burn with love and jealousy to your brother, who was basked in your care and support. Sometimes Aether thought that you loved Ajax like a man, but he didn't want to believe in it – Aether was so much better than him: Aether had power, money and glory; the fairest women from the capital were fighting for his attention, but he chose you. You should be grateful to him, you should fall on your knees and kiss his hands to express proper gratitude for his choice. You were no one, nothing, a descendant of some freaky family who worshiped a false God, yet you got arrogance suitable for a royal heir. Aether could do nothing with you, so he started to hate you. You rejected him – he would do even worse to you. He sacrificed so much for you, while you did nothing to please him back. Aether was done with it.

Despite the fact that you didn't want to escape, you were trapped in the village. Ajax made sure that you wouldn't be able to leave. Mother took care of Aether's horses – all of them were dead, and other horses in the village ran away or died in the Blood Moon massacre, cutting off all the possible ways of leaving. Clashes of believers didn't bother Ajax, but he had to participate in the religious processions to convince non-believers to return to their roots.

The night of the third day started. Tortured by his mind, Aether woke up and got to the kitchen to have a glass of water. It was dead of night, while everyone was sleeping and only chanting of priests could be heard from the street. Aether looked at the impenetrable darkness of the forest through the window. His vision started tunneling and he heard whispers. Suddenly Aether shivered and rubbed his eyes, then he heeded – and heard Ajax's voice. On his tiptoes, Aether followed the voice and happened into the corridor that led to the storeroom. The door was slightly open, so he peeked through the gap. He saw Ajax holding your face in his barbarian palms tremulously, and kissing you hastily.

“I don't care anymore!” Ajax snuggled to you, pressing you to his body like a doll.

“You know I will always love you. Why do you have to bring it now? We should go back… Ajax, please!” You pleaded, but he interrupted you with a desperate and impulsive kiss.

Aether froze, stunned, broken and disgusted. He didn't think of breaking your intimacy – Aether mercifully let you enjoy the last time you had Ajax in your arms. He watched Ajax rudely showing his hands under your skirts and destroy your fake shyness. Something made Aether stay and watch how Ajax was ravaging his bride. He wasn't gentle at all: Ajax tore your blouse so his hands could touch your breasts; pinching at your nipples, Ajax silenced your moans with his kisses.

Ajax knew Aether was watching. He smelled him long before he showed up in the corridor, but Ajax didn't care – on the contrary, he liked it. It was a simple way to show dominance to another male. Foreplay didn't last for long: Ajax was dying to have you, abstinence was mixed with approaching mating season, so he turned you to the wall and pressed on your back, to make you bend. Ajax unzipped his pants and put his fully erected cock inside you slowly, holding you by your hips. After making sure that you were okay, he took a fast steady rhythm. Ajax put all his frustration and desire to breed pounding into you. He needed to finish quickly not to wake someone from the family up, but he just couldn't have enough – he wanted much more than a quick fuck, his mind was clouded with wild arousal. Your wet cunt and shaky breaths mixed with his fantasies about you being pregnant with his children drove him insane. You were as needy as him, but the timing couldn't let you enjoy the moment the way you wanted. Your pussy was spasming around Ajax only to make him cum faster. Soon he came, filling you with his seed and fucking it further inside you. Aether left, while Ajax was helping you to clean yourself.

On the third day the village was covered with fights. No one could stay aside: fanatics involved kids even, so mother was hiding inside the house with Teucer and Tonya, while father and priests tried to calm everyone down. You looked at the crowd, embraced with fury, and doubted your decision of self-sacrifice. It would be better to destroy them, then build a new society from the ashes. Still, you said goodbye to Teucer and Tonya, gave a kiss to your mother, put on your red cloak and left the house, when the first star appeared in the sky. Ajax was absent for the whole day – you didn't want to go without talking to him, but you couldn't wait anymore. Immersed in your grief, you didn't notice Aether, who was following you with a shotgun behind his back.

You came to the hollow. Every step you made felt impossible and heavy, your heart couldn't keep a steady rhythm. When you were far away from the village, Aether took aim and made a shot. You screamed louder than he expected you to, and disturbed birds went up in the air with cawing. Aether grimaced – instead of killing you, he got you in leg. You fell on the snow, with your hand keeping pressure on the wound.

You looked back, and another shot followed, but it got into the tree, dangerously close to your head.

“Aether?..” You screamed in surprise. “Why?!”

“You know why.” Aether brought his gun up to his shoulder and pressed one the trigger, but nothing happened. He laughed maniacally and threw it aside. “You are a lucky one.”

“Werewolf will be here anytime! It'll kill us both!” Through pain and tears, you tried to come up with everything to save your life. Aether smiled widely and approached you.

“Archons, have mercy on her,” His voice thundered in between the trees. You tried to crawl away, but he stepped on your leg, piercing it to the ground, then kicked you in the chest, turning you over on your back. It seemed like Aether reveled in your scream, full of painful agony. “Do you know what they do in the Capital for incest? Execute.”

Aether sat on your hips, and grabbed your neck compressing it so hard your bones cracked. “Your father promised me a perfect woman, a dream of every man, and you seemed like one. Until I saw you and that bastard together.”

You tried to fight back, but it didn't help. Your vision got black and you felt that the pressure on your neck was unbearable. Just a little more and it would snap. His delirious rantings stuck in your head as a dull, repetitive echo.

A guttural roar sounded almost in your ear. Suddenly all the pressure was gone, your vision came back in unusually vivid colors. You closed your eyes, but unbearable pain and shortage of air made you open them. You breathed in avidly, gasping for cold air with your mouth and your chest felt like burning. You looked at the wound on your leg, it seemed like a bullet went through your body, making it even worse. An ugly torn mess of flesh and blood made you nauseous. Aether's scream made you search for him with your eyes, and you noticed his legs twitching under the werewolf’s body. Blood was gushing everywhere. Werewolf let go of the remains after his scream stopped and rushed to you. You looked at what was left and gasped: one of Aether's hands was missing, his lower jaw was torn off and all his body was covered in bites and lacerated wounds.

“Get on top of me,” it spoke to you and laid to aid you. You sat on the werewolf without wasting words, and it ran into the depths of the forest.

Soon you realized that you stopped at grandmother's cabin. You dismounted in disbelief and came closer to the door, then glanced back. Instead of a werewolf, you had seen Ajax in front of you. Puzzle in your head had formed into a whole picture, still you were taken aback. You would better believe that all of it was a delusion, a floating vision or just a fantasy.

“Why didn't you tell me?” You asked, but Ajax took your hand and walked you into the cabin.

“You chose the wrong time to ask. Sit.” Ajax was nervous, twitching. He put you on the chair and placed a bowl with something that seemed to be soup. “Eat this. Now.”

He sat in front of you and watched your every move with wide, insane eyes. You looked at the dish with suspicion and took a spoon unwillingly. It was too red, with pieces of lightly fried meat and boiled potato. You took a piece of the meat with a soup and some potato, and placed it into your mouth. The broth was impossible to eat, as it was too bitter and salty, and had a jellied structure. The meat was horribly tough and wiry. You felt vomit coming up to your mouth and wanted to spit that meat out, but Ajax ordered you to swallow in such a rough tone you shrugged and swallowed it in fear. You covered your mouth, trying not to puke, but you felt uneasy in your stomach and your throat started to spasm.

“Don't you dare do this!” Ajax jumped up from his seat and ran to you, pressing your hands to your mouth with his. “Don't waste it!”

His voice broke from deep to pitching, it was full of despair and resembled a lament.

“Why?! What is happening here?!” You drew his hands away, screaming, tears running down your face. “Where is grandma?!”

Ajax just gave you a blank stare, your face fell. You looked at him in disbelief, then another wave of hysteria covered you.

“Where is she?..” You went white at realization. The room fell silent for a moment then you cried out.

Ajax was confused. Grandmother promised that one bite would be enough, but he wanted to make sure and force you to eat more. All that was left of her was a bowl of soup, and you looked at it with dead eyes, as you tried to deny the truth. Ajax got you a glass of water with three drops of the potion. You drank it in one gulp and stared at the soup again.

“How could you do this?” You asked without looking at Ajax.

“Grandmother ordered me to do so. I had no other choice.” Ajax sat near you and took a spoon, then filled it with the soup. “Please, open your mouth. You need to finish this.”

Ajax couldn't look at you crying and being so broken. In one day you aged up on years from all the events that happened to you. Your wound wasn't treated yet and still caused you pain, but it couldn't compare with your storming emotions and grief. It was an inhuman and gruesome act of violence. You didn't even say goodbye to grandmother before she died in such a horrible way.

Slowly you started feeling tranquil. Your head clouded and all the senses dazed. Ajax managed to feed you the whole bowl. You watched him without interest and just sat in your place, before you fell asleep.

You woke up from a horrible dream, but found yourself in grandmother's bedroom. Your leg hurt, remembering you, that everything you saw in a dream was real. You just laid on the bed, looking at the ceiling and trying to accept what had happened. It wasn't easy at all and you didn't even want to leave the bed to search for Ajax. Was it planned by God? Was it your initial role you were created for? You got too many questions, but had no answers.

The whole week passed before you were ready to meet Ajax. You noticed that your sense of smell was keener and your hearing improved. You could hear Ajax walking in the house and detect in which part of it he was exactly. Bedroom was the back room of the house, so normally you wouldn't be able to smell freshly prepared food, and now you could smell it as if you were staying near the stove. To your surprise, your wound healed in a couple of days and left only a hardly visible scar.

Ajax gave you time for yourself and didn't bother you this week. Being alone did him good: he too let go of his worries and became mentally stronger. He wanted to explain everything to you and hoped you were ready to hear him. The story wasn't long: Ajax told you that mother and him were the direct descendants of the werewolf family that founded the village. Unfortunately, his father died and mother had to remarry to a human, hiding her true identity even from her children, as all the other werewolves were killed by Archons and their followers. To continue the bloodline, living heirs, you and him, had to inbreed, but your half-human origin was the sticking point: to awaken the werewolf genes and pass them to your kids you had to devour someone from your family, and grandmother volunteered. Yet you couldn't transform and had a limited number of abilities from being a werewolf.

You accepted the truth calmly, and your reaction frightened you. You didn't know was it normal or not. At least it made sense. You didn't want to think about it anymore and wanted to adapt to a new lifestyle quickly.

Ajax and you lived solitary, no one visited you, and you didn't come close to the village as well, leaving old life behind. It was hard to you to get used to Ajax's werewolf form, so Ajax tried to spend more time with you as a beast.

Ajax licked your face, and you giggled from the tingling. His tongue was nicely warm, yet covered in sticky saliva. It didn't scare you when he was this playful. When you were in the mood to have fun, you licked his nose back and hugged him, nuzzling into his soft fur. It wasn't rare for you to fall asleep on him, as his body was soothingly warm.

Intimacy became unusual due to Ajax's new size. Stroking his body, like you usually did, you were slowly letting your hand down to his cock. Kissing was strange: Ajax licked your lips and showed his long tongue inside, caressing the insides of your mouth with it. Your hand was stroking his cock gently, circling against the tip lightly and putting force at the shaft. Ajax was already leaking, so you broke the kiss and bent to his awaiting cock. Starting with licking the tip, you spitted on it, easing the slide, and took it inside your mouth. It was bigger, making it harder for you to suck him, but you tried to stroke other parts with your hands and rubbed on the knot to save the pleasure. Ajax felt his knot swelling, so he didn't let you to continue. His animalistic impulses told him to fuck you and he had no power to resist them. Ajax made you lay on your back, his tongue licked your pussy, prepping you for penetration. It swirled over your clit, sliding down to your hole, rubbing with pleasurable roughness. As a werewolf, Ajax scented your pheromones and your special smell, that busted his arousal. He noticed you biting your lower lip in anticipation and he didn't wait anymore. Ajax thrusted inside, your long moan made him catch a faster and rougher pace immediately. His beastly cock made you feel your insides stretching to accommodate the size. You were full of him and there was no escape from the pleasure, as your mind went blank, making you focus only on the sensation of being pulled on his cock. Ajax licked your face, and it ignited you, your moans became louder. You felt breathless in ecstatic bliss, every skim of the big tip of his cock through your folds made you move your hips for more. Your fingers reached down to your clit and you started rubbing it, as you felt that you were about to cum. Ajax made a powerful thrust and filled you fully with his knot just before he finished inside, groaning. Your pussy sucked him in fully, clenching and trembling around his cock. At the sensation of his hot thick cum stretching your womb you came next, your orgasm spurting around him. You were exhausted and breathed heavily, yet again you felt Ajax loading new portion of cum inside. He came several times, until your lower tummy bulged, only after that knotting ended.

During mating season Ajax didn't let you escape the bed. He didn't have enough of you both in human and werewolf forms, it was up to you to decide how you wanted to accept him. You were so full of his seed the bulge on your lower tummy didn't disappear for days and cum was leaking out of you whenever you didn't expect it to. Ajax made sure to give your pussy a relaxing massage, rubbing gently your insides and your clit at the same time. Curling his fingers he pressed knuckles against the most sensitive parts inside you, instantly felt your folds covering them. Ajax sucked on your nipples, licking them slowly, while his fingers penetrated your sopping hole. As a human Ajax was way more gentle: he gave you sensual kisses, lazily playing with your tongue, stroked the smooth skin of your belly, imagining it to be swollen with his pups. Ajax was the happiest man on Teyvat, as he had you by his side. The bond you shared with him was sacred, Ajax would kill anyone to protect you, the center of his world. Your embrace made him feel alive, he didn't need anything more, but to press his face at the crook of your neck and just inhale your sweet scent.

Ajax's dreams were destined to come true. Every time he was back home, his children ran to hug him, and you, pregnant with another kid, hurried to give him a kiss.

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