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qierxing · 11 months

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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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potato-lord-but-not · 2 months

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WELCOME TO THE ULTIMATE BLORBO TOURNAMENT POTATOLORD EDITION !!!!

Today (and for several other days) we gather to vote for the most Potatolord guy ever, our collective favorite specialist little guy of mine.

Left Side

Jason Kolchek vs Dirk Gently

Emma (my gf) vs Arthur Dent

Crowley vs Dirk Gently

Zaphod Beeblebrox vs Otto Chriek

Daniel Jacobi vs Needles

Rincewind vs Ford Prefect

Jon Sims vs Michael Distortion

Moist Von Lipwig vs Ren

Right Side

Gordon Way vs Will Wood

Gerry Keay vs Cecil Palmer

Doug Eiffel vs Mike Crew

Adora Belle Dearheart vs Oliver Banks

Maladict vs William De Worde

All of Bears in Trees vs Jhariah

Alice Dyer vs Elijah Volkov

Brad Smith vs Jack Marston

ROUND 2

Dirk Gently vs Emma (my girlfriend)

Crowley vs Zaphod Beeblebrox

Needles vs Ford Prefect

Jon Sims vs Moist Von Lipwig

Will Wood vs Cecil Palmer

Mike Crew vs Adora Belle Dearheart

Maladict vs All of Bears in Trees

Alice Dyer vs Jack Marston

ROUND 3

Emma my wife vs Crowley

Ford Prefect vs Jon Sims

Cecil Palmer vs Adora Belle Dearheart

Maladict vs Alice Dyer

ROUND 4

Emma my wife vs Ford Prefect

Cecil Palmer vs Alice Dyer

FINAL ROUND

Emma my wife vs Cecil Palmer

EMMA HAS BEEN CROWNED THE POTATOLORD BLORBO OF ALL TIME ‼️‼️

Bonus one from instagram to compare. truly bonkers

#polls but not #potatolord blorbo tournament

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shortnotsweet · 6 months

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[ “SOMEBODY TOLD ME”]:

BREAKING MY BACK JUST TO KNOW YOUR NAME. SEVENTEEN TRACKS AND I’VE HAD IT WITH THIS GAME. A BREAKIN’ MY BACK JUST TO KNOW YOUR NAME—BUT HEAVEN AIN’T CLOSE IN A PLACE LIKE THIS.

— The Killers, Hot Fuss (2004)

Princess Rhaenyra’s insolence is wearing her stepmother’s patience thin. Queen Alicent is not ten years her senior, but even during her own sixteenth year, she cannot recall herself behaving so brazenly. She would never burst into courtly discussions in nothing but gilded armor and the underskirts of her riding leathers, awash in blood. (She would never be spotted in blood that was not her own, anyway. Alicent has never picked up a sword, not one that belonged to her.) Nevermind that Rhaenyra is attending to diplomatic affairs with bared teeth and scales, no—the crux of the matter is just that, her affairs. Rhaenyra is the Realm’s Delight, a beauty incomparable to any fair maiden, Alicent included. She indulges herself with appetite of a spoiled child, the confidence of man, and the pickings befitting only to her royal blood. Criston Cole. Daemon Targaryen. Harwin Strong. Laena Velaryon. She’s full of love, isn’t she? That selfish, foolish girl. What does Rhaenyra Targaryen know of love, of duty? She is a child in so many ways—she thinks killing makes her a man, thinks the throne is hers despite being a woman, thinks she can have her knight and her uncle and her protector and Laena Velaryon in one fail swoop. She’s wrong. She doesn’t know herself half as well as Alicent does. Alicent, who sees her for what she truly is, who wants to see all of her and more of her and none of her. Alicent has been stolen into the Keep by her own father—both of their fathers—but Rhaenyra is the key to this place, is the window to everything barred. Rhaenyra Targaryen has a dragon. Rhaenyra can fly.

That’s what Rhaenyra had promised her once, with her lips pulled back in a grin, exposing the white of her teeth like the violently radiant creature she was. “Perhaps when you grow tired of plotting against me, we shall ride on dragonback together,” she had said. The tease.

Alicent had yanked her into an empty corridor by the silk of her sleeve, ready to chastise her for her ill behavior. Conversing with the lords and ladies of the court at a feast was one thing, but chattering about her bloody encounters in battle over the pudding tureen were another. The lord at her elbow was going green. Alicent’s own face was likely red; her heart raced whenever Rhaenyra got like this. Alicent had never seen the battlefield—only seen battered men in dented armor and the slumps of corpses lined along dirt roads in the aftermath of war—but her own imagination terrified her like nothing else.

(Rhaenyra is better with a sword than half of the knights in Westeros, and more lovely than the lot. Her reign has not yet begun, but already the commoners flock to her—lured in by tales of her beauty and fine hair—and soldiers would follow her into battle. Alicent would not follow, but she would watch and bite her nails down to the quick.

She thinks of the figure Rhaenyra cuts in full armor, the heat in her gaze underneath the slots of her helmet. Alicent remembers the weight of her own hand in Rhaenyra’s—which was gloved—when the princess rode up to the spectators box and grasped it in her own, bringing Alicent’s knuckles to her lips. She thinks of Rhaenyra murdered in the sky, skewered with another man’s sword, plummeting to the ground, torn in half, streaking crimson across the clouds. Alicent would scream, or cry. She might laugh. She would throw herself from the window of her tower. Rhaenyra’s bloody exploits terrified Alicent for reasons she could not identify, and excited her for reasons she refused to.)

“I’d sooner be confined to the castle for the rest of my days than get on the back of that bloody lizard,” Alicent scoffed. Rhaenyra only tucked her hand over Alicent’s, where it was resting on her forearm. She flexed her fingers, moving to release her grip on the dark fabric, but Rhaenyra intertwined their fingers and held them fast.

“You’re confined already. You are already accustomed to such a thing. I know you. But—”

“But you forget yourself. You think you’re invulnerable, Rhaenyra. You don’t know who you are.” Alicent intends for it to be a sneer, but instead it comes out quietly, and too gentle for disdain. She can’t know. Rhaenyra is as trapped as she is, but they’re trapped together. They belong together. She belongs with Alicent.

“I am Rhaenyra Targaryen, Heir to the Iron Throne and all of Westeros. I am a dragonrider. I am—I am your daughter. In a way. Your sister, too. Your enemy. Your sword, your shield.”

“And what am I?” What else is left for me? Alicent wonders.

“My Queen. For now.” Rhaenyra cocks her head, and the gleam in her eyes burns like fire raining down. “When I am Queen, you will be my lady.”

#rhaenicent #rhaenyra targaryen #alicent hightower #house of the dragon #hotd #rhaenyra x alicent #my art #a book show fusion where alicent is the wicked resentful older stepmother first and foremost but even so she and rhaenyra have a connection #burdened by envy and fixation and reluctant affection. in this universe rhaenyra is given more liberties and trains as a knight would #is given a sword and flies into battle frequently and wears extravagant clothes which endears her to the small folk and makes her a hot #topic amongst royalty for her strangeness and charisma. alicent is expression not only of her freedom and expression #but of the company she keeps. rhaenyra has so many lovers and so many who are willing to follow her and it’s just not fair ok. alicent #and rhaenyra understand each other and know each others misery like no other. those other flings and beloved friends are going to get #her killed w how much they indulge her and encourage her dangerous habits and alicent may be in a cage but she won’t live in it alone. with #out her stepdaughter to torment and be tormented by (she represses the urges rhaenyra inspires bc she is devout to the faith) then there is #no meaning to suffering. god she’s in love w her. she hates her so much she wants to be her she wants to be with her she needs to touch her #she need rhaenyra to stop looking at other people bc it’s killing alicent by the day

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batman-daily · 10 months

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(x)

#strip snippets #bruce wayne #harvey dent #batman #alfred pennyworth #dick grayson #alice dent #gilda dent #gilda gold #jo #jim gordon #james gordon #commissioner gordon #robin #twoface #two face #two-face

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vin-taege · 1 year

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spoilers!!!! hello!!! you asked for chishiya x reader request? can i request oneshot or headcannon of them reuniting in the hospital in the last episode?(they both were in borderland) so they were dating before and during and after borderland (maybe they were walking together in shibuya that kind of thing so they both are alive)

It's been a while so I might be rusty :') For this, I decided to set pre-borderlands reader and chishiya at the beginning stage of their relationship (think first date) so the reunion impact has much more oomf (in my silly little head, this makes sense). I hope you like it!!

What's Missing?

Summary: You had made a promise, but you can't remember for the life of you what nor to whom—but a certain blonde with a Cheshire smile may help you recall.

TW: blood, SPOILERS FOR S2

Genre: fluff, alice in borderland au, hinted established relationship

Pairing: reader x chishiya

Words: 1.1k

You couldn't feel your dominant hand. The pain had dwindled into numbness, but you were certain a silver bullet had dug its way in between the bones of your lower arm. Chishiya had managed to take his jacket off despite the blood pouring out his own side. Through his shallow breathing, he tied it it tightly around your wound, trying his best to ignore your pained groan.

The bullet-fire had stopped a good hour ago, leading you both to think that the King of Spades was long gone. But your wounds didn't stem from that game—it was from the godforsaken shootout Niragi started.

You and the blonde sat side by side, huddled behind a dented car Usagi and Arisu had dragged you towards. You tried your best to shift a little so you can face him better, bringing your other arm to press against his blood-soaked torso. He spared a small grunt, the only thing telling you that he was in as much—if not, more—pain as you are. His warm hand covered yours, the two of you trying to put pressure on his wound.

"___," he exhaled slowly. "Promise me."

You hummed in response, whispering, "Okay."

Chishiya let out a low chuckle, "I haven't said what for yet."

"You don't need to," you turned your head up, eyes meeting his. "I'll do anything for you."

He gave you a small smile—the type void of his usual snark. In a way, he seemed almost sad, fearful. "I know. Sometimes I wish you wouldn't."

The blood pool underneath you grew. You didn't know which blood was whose, and you'd rather not find out.

"Promise me you'll remember," he quietly murmured. If you weren't paying attention you would have most likely missed it underneath the boom of fireworks, suddenly appearing the way they did when you first came into this wretched place. The familiar robotic voice greeted all surviving players with a congratulatory message, one you drowned out in favor of focusing on the only person that mattered: Chishiya.

"I promise. We'll find each other again."

Unbeknownst to you, your eyebrows knit together in worry upon seeing his paler complexion. The blush in his cheeks and the color from his lips have drained out, blooming on the cement instead. A dull spark in his deep brown irises fought to stay alive. You wanted to kiss him so bad.

You would've done anything to feel his lips against yours again, or his fingers in between your hair. Even inches from death, he looked so beautiful, but you were scared that the slightest touch would rip him away from you.

"That's all I need," Chishiya gave your hand a small squeeze, the light of fireworks reflecting off his cat-like eyes.

The disembodied voice in the background asked one last question, one you both knew the answer to. In a blink of an eye, everything melted away.

Disoriented, you found yourself back in Shibuya, waiting for your date outside a coffee shop. You blinked twice, as if waking up from a dream, the only thing grounding you being the buzz of the hundreds of people coming and going. From the corner of your eye, you saw the flash of platinum blonde hair—and felt the impact of the meteor immediately after.

.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

The first thing you woke up to was systematic beeping.

Your body hurt all over, especially your dominant arm. With a glance, you realized that it hung in a cast. With enough effort and pain tolerance, you could still wiggle your fingers.

Something was missing.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a nurse walking into your room, her small gasp catching your attention. She quickly scampered off to most likely find a doctor, but you couldn't have cared less. Your mind was stuck on somewhere—someone?—else. There's something important you had to do, but you didn't know what.

You needed to meet someone.

It would be days later when this thought would flash across your head.

That's right. There was someone you had to see.

You've healed enough to roam around the hospital now, but you still couldn't be discharged because they had to monitor the fracture in your lower arm. The way the bones have splintered could've only been caused by a gunshot wound, which stumped the doctors because how on earth could you have been shot during the impact?

Subconsciously, your walk has led you to a patient lounge area. Looking around, you saw a girl with chin length-hair laughing across a boy with long, shaggy hair, a small bandage stuck across his cheek. Other patients were scattered among the tables, some watching TV, others silently reading by themselves. That's when you locked eyes.

At the furthermost corner, a man sat with a set chessboard and an open pack of crackers. A flash of recognition sparked across your mind, and a part of you knew he felt it too.

You promised something. Promised what? To whom?

Without breaking eye contact, you walked towards the bookshelves his table was placed next to. He raised an eyebrow, light blonde strands of hair framing his sharp eyes. You gulped, second-guessing yourself.

You promised.

Half-heartedly browsing the shelf, you picked a book out, halting when you heard the blonde clear his throat.

"Your supposed to sign the logbook before borrowing," he nodded towards a bookstand, which was set beside a large window overlooking the hospital's garden.

"Ah, thank you," you replied meekly.

It was only when you were in front of the logbook that you realized: shit, you couldn't write.

Struggling, it took you an embarrassing amount of time to properly hold the pen. You could feel him watching you, smirking at your helplessness. Weirdly enough, you didn't feel offended or annoyed. Instead, warmth nestled within your chest.

I promise I'll find you.

You had barely scrawled three letters when you felt his presence closer to you. You looked over to your side, slowly taking him in.

His hair was tied into a small ponytail, a few loose strands poking out. His eyes looked less cold upfront, specks of sunlight entrapped in the rich brown. He felt like home, like hot chocolate after a long day or the rediscovery of a childhood toy.

"I thought you needed help," his lips curled slightly, a boyish grin adorning his features.

You chuckled lightly, "Thank you. My name is—"

And before you even finished, he had written your entire name—as if he knew it by heart, as if it was an oath he'd held onto dearly.

You tore your eyes from the paper, meeting his intense gaze again. He gingerly raised his hand, his heart yearning to reach out to you. He didn't know why but it all felt right when he first saw you. Everything was in its place.

You held his hand in midair, bringing it over to your cheek.

You've done this lifetimes before.

"Chishiya," his name left your mouth like a whisper—a wish scattered upon the heavens to come true.

"You were late to our date," you teased him.

He snorted a little, eyes crinkling as his grin widened. "I'll make it up to you, I promise."

#alice in borderland imagines #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya alice in borderland #chishiya x reader #aib chishiya #aib imagines #imawa no kuni no alice #alice in borderland x reader #alice in borderland #chishiya imagine #aib x reader #chishiya shuntaro x reader #asks #requested

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star-elysiam · 10 days

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ლ lsdln cast x badass girlfriend ლ

◍ pairing: lsdln cast x fem!reader

◍ sum: como alguns dos meninos do cast agiriam com uma namorada que é tatuada, tem piercings e gosta de andar de moto, de preferência com jaqueta de couro

◍ w: nenhuma

◍ a/n: na minha humilde opinião eles iam ficar caidinhos pelas tatuagens

Matías

Ele ama o seu estilo e muitas vezes vai roubar sua jaqueta de couro para compor algum look. Depois de um tempo ninguém mais sabe se a jaqueta é sua ou dele;

E se você for daquelas que tem ciúmes da peça, ele vai se atrever a usar mesmo assim, mesmo que isso faça ele ouvir alguma reclamação depois mas ele não liga, pois adora te provocar usando sua jaqueta favorita e te deixar irritadinha;

Ele acha irresistível quando você mostra suas tatuagens com orgulho, destacando sua personalidade única e acho que até toparia fazer uma tatuagem juntos, não necessariamente aquelas de casal mas que vocês fossem para um estúdio juntos e talvez tatuasse a outra panturrilha;

E os piercings? Ele AMA. E igual a tattoo, se você fosse colocar algum piercing novo, seria bem capaz dele colocar algum na orelha ou até furar o mamilo (polêmico 🤭)

Pipe

Ele sempre quis aprender a andar de moto e vai te implorar para ensinar ele, pois acha que você é a instrutora perfeita;

Ele vê suas tatuagens como obras de arte que contam histórias da sua vida e sua personalidade. Ele ficaria tão confortável com a ideia que até toparia fazer uma que não fosse comprometer o trabalho dele (e vamos fingir que ele não tatuaria o brasão do river, tipo o mati com o boca);

Sobre os piercings, aposto que ele ficaria rendido, louco, alucinado, enamorado se depois descobrisse um piercing que quase sempre fica coberto. Tipo, no mamilo, umbigo...

Nossa, se fosse no mamilo e você usasse uma blusa que marcasse e visse que alguém mais tava de olho, ia ficar com um biquinho incomodado com o otario que estivesse te secando. Só ia desmanchar o bico quando vc dissesse que só ele poderia ver realmente, aí o bichinho ia ficar com um sorriso tal qual o gato da alice

Enzo

Ele é um daqueles que defende a liberdade de expressão com unhas e dentes, por isso admira a sua autenticidade;

Ele é fascinado pelas suas tatuagens e adora ouvir as histórias por trás de cada uma delas. E ia ficar todo bobinho se você pedisse para ele fazer uma ilustra e depois aparecesse com ela tatuada em algum cantinho que quase sempre só ele é quem vê;

Ama ver sua confiança e independência, o que pra ele no começo era novidade e isso torna tudo novo pra ele, ficando fascinado com você;

Como ele ama viajar e não para quieto em casa, vai amar fazer vários passeios de moto com você. Mesmo que sejam viagens mais longas, ele arriscaria;

Sobre os piercings? Vejo a mesma situação que a do Pipe. Imagino inclusive o choque que seria ele descobrindo que você tem piercing no seio. Tipo, se você um dia estivesse usando uma blusa mais justa e estivesse sem sutiã, fazendo com que os piercings ficassem bem visíveis... Ele ia tentar disfarçar muito mas você ia conseguir pegar ele olhando pro seus peitos

Esteban

Acho que ele ficaria fascinado de primeira, já que você acaba se destacando na multidão por conta do seu estilo. Ama ver como você tem autenticidade e vai ficar encantado com suas tatuagens;

Vai ficar preocupado com a sua segurança quando estiver andando de moto sozinha, pois sabe que nem sempre certos motoristas respeitam quem está andando de moto. E vai querer que ande sempre com um capacete extra;

Também acho que ele te pediria pra ensinar a pilotar a moto. Ia ficar com medo de acelerar demais no começo ou de derrubar a moto na própria perna mas ia aprender rapidinho e diria que é porquê teve uma excelente instrutora;

Também ficaria querendo saber sobre as histórias por trás de cada tatuagem, natural que sempre tenha curiosidade;

Ama ficar traçando delicadamente os dedos por cima delas, como se redesenhasse cada uma;

E quando você aparece usando sua jaqueta de couro, botas e uma maquiagem com batom vermelho... Se você ia sair, vai ter que esperar um pouquinho porque ele não vai conseguir evitar borrar seu batom 🎀

#matias recalt #pipe otaño #enzo vogrincic #lsdln cast #lsdln #felipe otaño #enzo vogrincic x reader #felipe otaño x reader #pipe otaño x reader #matias recalt x reader #headcanon #esteban kukuriczka #esteban kukuriczka x reader

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maniacwatchestheworld · 1 year

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I've been reading the Batman newspaper strips recently and to be honest... The vibe that I'm getting from Alice Dent is that she's trying to bring Bruce into the polycule with her and Harvey lol

#alice dent #gilda dent #gilda gold #harvey dent #batman #bruce wayne #batman newspaper strips #two-face #two face #twoface

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first-edition · 1 year

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Thunder Storm

Jasper hale x human! Reader

Sum-You and bella are on your way to the Cullen house when a storm hits mid way. You two make it safe from harm but jasper makes sure youre fully okay.

(SHOUT OUT TO CAI WHO I KNOW IS GONNA READ THIS COME TO ME AND TELL ME HOW OBSEEN MY OBSESSION WITH JASPER IS. LOVE YOU 🥰.)

WARNIGS- smut, pinv, unprotected vampire sex (wrap it before you tap it folks), cunnilingus fem!recv., she/her pronouns used, fingering fem!recv., slight nipple play, angst if you squint, after care present.

MINORS DNI

“ah fuck!” You curse rushing into the Cullen house along with Bella as you place you keys in the little bowel they have set. A light breeze taints your skin before you look up seeing jasper walking to you.

“what happened?” He asks worriedly although it comes off as a demand.

“Bella?” Edward shows up from around the corner going to his girlfriend, both of you soaked as if you’d just jumped in a pool.

“Y/n i see your car outside what happened?” Jasper says now demanding to know what happened to your now damaged vehicle consisting of a severely dented back left door and a now missing tail light. “Some asshole hit us on the way here the roads became really slick-” “You shouldn’t have driven!” Edward snaps at bella.

“We wouldn’t have come over is we’d known there was going to be an actual down pour now would we!?” You snap back for bella.

Edward Cullen, your best friends boyfriend, and your super great uncle. Of course your family goes by his dead-last name of masen but none the less you’re related and he never lets you forget it treating you more like the annoying little sister than. His super great niece. And you like it that way. You’d rather play fight with a brother than be bossed around by your 104 year old vampire uncle.

He sighs shaking His head as he rests a hand down on Bella’s back. And looks at her continuing a quiet conversation.

Jasper moves closer to you checking your body up and down seeing any visible marks but of course theres nothing. Just you shivering from the freezing rain.

“your shivering come on.” He says taking your hand in his even though he’s cold his hand in yours feels much warmer that yours.

After changing into some dry clothes Alice let you barrow jasper bombard you with a large sweater of His and wraps you in a blanket on his bed.

“J-Jas if you give me anymore warm things i’ll die of heat stroke.” You say as hes about to put on the fourth blanker around you.

He moves a strand of your hair out of your face before sitting in front of you.

“are you sure youre alright?” He asks his southern accent strong within the question.

You nod pulling off some blanket already becoming hotter than you should be. he sighs in protest but it dosnt stop you from removing them.

“Im alright. Really. You have to stop thinking of me as such a fragile thing.” You reply placing your hand on his cheek. He leans into your touch nodding.

“I know..im sorry ma’am.” He says the formal notion out of habit.

You lean into him to give my a reassuring kiss that you truly are alright.

Whats supposed to be soft kiss and a smile turns into him not wanting to pull away from you. His hands make thier way to your waist as he shifts his posits ion for his whole body to face you. Your arms wrap around his neck pulling him into you as you crawl over him sitting on his lap straddling him.

Your finger run through his hair tugging. In response his hands snake under the layers to your bare waist his cold hands press against your skin as he feels the curve of your waist and move you the sides of your rib cage before dancing his finger tips to your bare back.

You hum against his lips as his left hands finger find your breast his finger brushing over your nipple hardening it before giving the entirely a light squeeze.

You pull back from his lips only to unbutton his shirt taking it off letting your hands search his chest and abs relishing in the time you get to touch him. For the longest time he wouldn’t let you touch him having never felt a soft feeling of love before but that all changed soon enough the first time you to made love.

He pulling off your top layers in one motion accidentally ripping the last. Leaving your top, his favorite part of you, bare to his liking he stands, your legs stil clasp around his waist, and turns around kneeling onto the bed and laying you back against the plush warm bed sheets.

His kisses move from your lips down you jaw line and neck being carful not to suck to hard in fear of causing severe damage other than a little bruise. Oh how you with you could mark up your boyfrien the same way.

His kisses move to your chest taking your breat in one hand giving it the same pressure squeeze from before. He dips down into your chest taking your nipple into his mouth swirling tounge around the swollen bud making you gasp before you clasp you hand over your mouth trying to keep quiet as best as you can in the house of super hearing vampires. Although everyone in the family executive for jasper and Edward have gone out hunting.

He pulls away from your breast and moves his kisses down your stomach kissing your hip bones that poke out from your low rise sweatpants. He glances up at you before pulling them off along with your panties so effortless lay its almost impossible.

You look down at him, but not for long, as his tounge hits your core licking a strip up to your clit sucking and swirling just like he did with your nipple from before. He wraps a arm around your lower stomach providing slight presses and keeping you from squirming away as he lets his fingers enter you.

Moving both harmoniously against the upper spongey part of your walls your thighs close around his head only making his dive his fingers into him and his tounge to move faster as his fucks you with his hand and mouth. Surges of continuous please fall through your body and you flush a shade of pink, your chest heaving your heart rate speeding up, all this jasper hears and feels letting him know you are right at the edge of cumming.

Finally your let go your back arching as you turn your head gripping the pillow stifling your moan into the plush head rest. Jasper pulls away licking his lips as his golden eyes stare at your shaken body, flushed, horny, already fucked dumb just by his fingers and tounge.

He crawls back over you resting between your legs and kisses your collar bone sweetly moving back up to your face as he showers you in kisses making you giggle.

“Sugar? Do you wanna continue?” He asks. He ALWAYS asks you this question.

sometimes he just wants to giving you the satisfaction him making you cum. Somtimes your too tired to continue sometimes your ready for more…so much more. You look at him as he moves your hair from your face. You nod and smile at him.

He leans back off you a bit, you already missing his weight on you. He comes back a few seconds later his pants and underwear’s removed. He shifts your body and positions his hard member at your enterence and enters you slowly as to not hurt you in anyway.

Its easy for him to enter you as your pussy has been riled up just moments before. You bite you lip shutting your moan up as a purely fills you.

“mm-mm none of that. I want to hear you.” He demands and thrusts up into you sensing every part of your body to get a moan out of you. He groans as you clench around him at his actions.

“Ngh jas…” you gasp you your nails running down his back feeling his muscles flex and retract. His cold skin almost feels as though its heating around you.

The sound of thunder and rain, hitting his window, booms outside setting the perfect dark-day time sex feel. His hair falls to his face framing his face so fucking perfectly as he sensibly rails you into calling his name.

Wanting nothing more than to feel you cum around his cock he takes a leap of faith and pushes deeper into you bottoming out in you for the first time hitting your cervix. You yelp in pleausre throwing your head back in ecstasy as has he fucks you. You take his hand in your intertwining his fingers in your as they push into the plush bed above your head.

“jasper ah..please.” You whimper out as you clench around him.

“good girl sugar come on…come on honey.” He growls out attacking your neck with sloppy kisses.

“come on baby come for me.” He groans his hips stuttering as you cum around him in a fit of pleausre. He pulls out of you a cums on stomach. His golden eyes have darkened as he admires your body for a second.

“stay there.” He says giving you a quick peck on your lips before getting you and walking to the bathroom his has in his room and coming back wih warm damp rag. He cleans off the mess he left of your body then goes back putting the rag in the sink.

By the time hes by your side again your take in his nude body a bit admiring all the features from his scars to his face. In your doing so you dont realize you shivering slightly. Between your ice cold boyfriend your nude body exposed to the air.

“go under the convers doll.” Jasper requests as he pulls on his boxers again as sit up shaking your head. He picks up the over sized sweater from the ground and walks up to you.

“arms up.” He says you hold your arms and puts the sweater back over you. He kneels on the bed sitting placing his hand on your cheek and kisses your lips. You smile kissing him back.

“i love you.” He says

“i love you too.” You reply.

“are you hungry?” He asks tucking hair behind your ear. You think about lying for a moment but then nod. He nods back.

“i’ll ask Bella if shes hungry too.” You say and smile getting up only for your legs to slightly go weak Jasper rushes to you catching you. You just giggle looking at him.

“sorry.” He says you shake your head. And peck his lips.

“stay here i’ll go tell bella.” He says pulling on his shirt and pants again before heading out of the room.

#jasper whitlock x reader #jasperhale #jasper xreader #jasper smut #jasper x reader smut #jasper hale x reader smut #jasper Whitlock x reader smut

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valaenatargaryensdragon · 9 months

Text

Can we always be this close?

pairing: Fanon!Viserys Targaryen x Female OC

summary: Viserys and Elna's wedding is finally here and so is their wedding night,.

Word count: 2,9K

Warnings: Fluff, smut, fingering, cunnilingus, P in V, hand job

Masterlist 1

Masterlist 2

To say Elna was nervous was an understatement, she was terrified, she was shaking from head to toes. The high septon had married her to the king less than an hour ago, the kiss they shared will forever be engraved in her mind, his lips were very soft and welcoming, the hand he rested on her cheek was gentle and careful, the only thing that snapped them away from each other was the cheering of the crowd.

Now she was sat be his side during the feast he threw in the honour of their marriage. She felt like she was awaiting a dragon to breath its fire on her as she waited the words she dreaded, "Time for the bedding ceremony", someone was going to utter those words loudly for the whole room to hear.

She was awaiting her privacy to be violated as the council men watched the king consummate their marriage. Her septa had informed her before hand what entailed into the bedding ceremony and what her duty to her lord husband was whoever he was. She married a king. she needed to give him heirs, one was simply not enough.

When Rhaenyra crossed her mind Elna's eyes snapped up from her hand to search for the princess, the heir to the iron throne. She was dancing with her friend Alicent Hightower, both girls had huge smiles on their faces as they circled one another clapping with the other dancers along to the beat of the music, at least someone was happy and relaxed. Elna was very happy with the match so far but that did not ease her nerves. She barely knew the king but from what she has seen he was a nice man.

"My love" Her heart dropped for a second from fright when a warm hand engulfed her own. Her eyes snapped to Viserys sat by her side with a slight frown on his face.

"Yes, my king" She took a deep breath to calm her beating heart. Viserys squeezed her hand comfortingly, seeing the worry in her eyes.

"You seem unhappy, are you alright?" Viserys' eyes held worry in them. Elna smiled softly, it was a relief that he cared somewhat for her, unlike many men she knew.

"I am very happy my king, simply nervous" She answered truthfully. Viserys pulled up her hand to place a small kiss to her knuckles. Elna's face heated up at his action. Her other hand unconsciously began tapping on the table as the minutes ticked by. Viserys reached over and took her other hand and also placed a kiss to her knuckles.

"There is nothing to be nervous about" Viserys said, trying to calm the poor girl down, he could only imagine the horrors they had told her. He remembered Aemma telling him how her septa told her to "Lay on her belly and take the pain like a big girl until he spilled inside of her", he was mortified.

"I will take good care of you, sweet wolf" Elna wanted to believe him, she truly did but the stories the ladies of the court shared with her held her back from doing so. She gave him a weak smile before her eyes roamed around the room again, watching.

Lords drank, saluting one another loudly as the literally smashed their cups together spilling the expensive wine Viserys had imported from Dorne for this occasion, laughing loudly. The lords of the north were the loudest and most wolfish, some of them even had gone up to dance some old folk song singing it in a corner bored of the music of the south.

Viserys sighed seeing that his words had barely even dented the nerves of his new wife. He let go of her shaking hands and moved to cup her face to face him instead of the room, "I care for you Elna, I will not harm you or hurt you" Viserys spoke low and calmly. Elna gulped nodding her head slightly. "I know" She whispered. Her eyes dropped ashamed for doubting him.

"You are my wife and you will be respected as such by everyone, beginning with me" Viserys promised. Elna simply could not stop herself from leaning over and kissing him on the lips. Viserys returned her kiss without hesitation or shame, it was their wedding after all.

"It seems our king is eager to begin the bedding ceremony" A man yelled over the music making everyone stop and turn to the couple. Elna's whole face turned red as she pulled away knowing she was the one to initiate the kiss.

"Lord Tyrell it seems you have drank too much wine" Rickon Stark hissed at the man. Elna's nerves returned at the sight of her father's presence, was he to witness the bedding ceremony as well? She hopes not.

"Let us escort them to their chambers for the bedding ceremony, my lords" A maester cut lord Tyrell from answering her father. The crowd erupted into cheers at the prospect.

In a blink of an eye Elna was hoisted on Lord Bolton's shoulder, a friend of her fathers. "Do not worry dear, I will protect you from these amateurs" He assured her much to her relief. He patted her calf to calm her down. Still some men were able to rip through her wedding dress, leaving her in a very thin and see through slip by the time she reached her new rooms, the King's chambers.

The women and men who had escorted her and Viserys into their rooms were soon escorted out of the room leaving five people int he room, Elna herself, King Viserys, Lord Hand Otto Hightower, Maester Runciter and Lord of coins Lyman Bessbury to witness their union.

Elna shifted uncomfortably seeing the four men around her all eye her body that was peeking through the shift she wore. Viserys did not look any better, he was left in simply his trousers. He cleared his throat shifting a little with an obvious bulge on the front of his trousers.

"Shall we?" He asked, holding out his hand for her. Elna took a deep breath before taking his hand and letting him guide her to the bed that was covered by a simple cloth. The three men around them chose to stand side by side on the right of the bed.

Elna climbed onto the bed and laid back on her behind like her septa had taught her. Viserys moved to lay by her side, leaning on his arm to look down at her face. Her skin was milky white, her hair of the darkest shades of brown, her eyes almost the same color as her hair.

"Beautiful" Viserys whispered, his hand moved to cup her cheek as his eyes roamed her face. He couldn't help but count the freckles that littered her cheeks, there was a total of seventeen on each cheek.

"Thank you" Elna blushed. He leaned down and claimed her lips with his, missing the taste of the strawberry tart she had earlier during the feast, the only she had during the feast, Viserys noticed. Viserys usually observed her, noticing small things about her, how she cannot meet ones eye when she lies, how she twiddles with her fingers when nervous and how she does not eat when scared.

"Relax, I will care for you, sweet wolf" Viserys whispered, in her ear. He moved down slowly to kiss down her neck. Elna did not imagine that such soft and feather like kisses would bring her some pleasure. A shiver ran through her body when one of his hands moved to her hip, pulling her closer to him.

She gulped when one of the men behind the curtain shifted reminding her of their presence. Viserys noticed the way her body tensed and looked up to find her looking in the direction of their audience, an uncomfortable look on her face.

He reached up to touch her cheek and moved her head to look down at him and said "Focus on me and only me". She nodded her head obediently.

Viserys' fingers ran down to pull her shift up and higher to show her milky legs. They were the softest thing he has ever touched, almost like a baby's skin. He buried his nose into her neck growing addicted to the smell of some oils she had lathered herself with, he has never smelled anything like this before. It was a flowery scent he has never encountered before, mayhems some plant from back home in the north if it were possible for anything to grow in the ice and snow.

"Viserys" Elna whimpered, as his fingers trailed up her leg and slowly crept between her thighs pushing them apart to gain access. Viserys hummed again her skin moving his mouth down to nibble at her collarbone earning a whine from her. Her hand unconsciously snapped up to grab at his shoulder length hair.

His finger pushed the linen up until it showed her lower region and rested on her belly. A gasp tore through Elna's throat when the cold air hit her wet core. Viserys did not waste anytime touching her. His finger ran up and down her slit memorising the perfect outline of her beautiful parts, he wanted to memorise every part of her. To his surprise she was wet already, he hoped it was for him.

"So wet, my queen" Viserys teased, moving away to look down at her as he pushed his finger inside of his mouth to taste her. Elna has never felt more embarrassed in her entire life before.

"Is that good?" She asked, tilting her head to the side. Viserys moved to grab at her mound again earning a whimper from her. Elna has never been touched down before, only when washing herself and she usually did it quickly.

"Very good, my love" Viserys praised. He moved to push one finger inside of her. Her body stiffened at the intrusion, he shushed her softly, pushing back some of her hair.

"Tell me if it hurts" Viserys whispered. Elna nodded her head but did not move to stop him. Viserys moved his finger inside of her trying to find that one rough spot.

"Gods" Her back arched when his fingertip touched a spot inside of her she did not even know existed. Viserys smirked in victory and eagerly claimed her lips in a wanton kiss.

He added a second finger eager to hear more of her sounds, she sounded so sweet, almost as sweet as honey. He scissored his fingers inside of her attempting to open her up for his cock, his cock was an average size he liked to believe so. Elna tried as hard as she could to stifle her moans, she did not want the others to hear her, she wanted her sounds to be only for her husband.

"Viserys please" She cried. Rolling her hips trying to match his pace needly. Viserys sped up his movement feeling her clenching around his fingers. His thumb moved to find her swollen pearl, swirling around it gently to bring her forth with pleasure.

"Oh my gods, Viserys" She cried, tears building up behind her eyelids. Viserys curiously slid down to taste her. The one taste of her earlier was nowhere near enough.

"What a-are you doing?" She asked, horrified. When she could no longer feel his warmth by her side she opened her eyes in search of him to find him face to face with her cunt.

He smirked at her and dived in without saying a word. Her head fell back at the feeling of his warm and wet muscle lick a strip up her slit. One of her hands fisted the sheet in anticipation and the other fisted his hair pushing him closer to her. She was very close, she has never felt like this before.

"Viserys!" She cried, back arching as his tongue toyed with her clit. His fingers arching into a come forth motion easily touching the rough spot inside of her.

Viserys' slid down to join his fingers gathering more of her arousal, shaking his head from side to side once his nose pressed onto her pearl. Elna's whole body shivered, she felt like she was crashing, his name whispered on her lips, unable to breathe for a second. Viserys pulled back not wanting to overwhelm her as she came back down from her orgasm.

"That was amazing" Elna panted. Viserys smiled as he shifted to sit between her parted legs.

"I sure hope it was" Viserys placed both of his hands on her thighs, kneeling between them, his thumbs unconsciously rubbed soothing circles on the skin.

"Will it hurt?" Elna asked, her eyes trailed down his full form to his aching cock. She liked Viserys, she liked the way he looked, for some reason she found a fuller man attractive, they pulled her in more.

"Only a pinch" Viserys pinched her thigh almost as if he wanted to give a preview. She nodded her approval for him to proceed.

She took a deep breath as he unlaced his trouser and pulled them down, stepping back momentarily to take them off before joining her again in bed. She gulped at the sight of him, she has never seen a cock before except in one text before and his looked bigger than the one in the big.

"Here, hold my hand" Viserys offered her his hand generously. She latched both of her hands onto his in fear. His free hand moved to fist his hard cock before guiding it to her slit, moving it up and down to gather her wetness, an attempt at making it easier for her.

Elna whimpered as he pushed his tip inside. Viserys squeezed her hand reminding her that he may be the reason for her pain but he was here for her. She squeezed his hand, digging her nails into his flesh as he pushed his cock further in until their pelvises were flush against one another.

"Gods, it hurts" Elna cried. Viserys leaned down still balls deep inside of her. He felt horrible the first time and he still felt horrible the second time.

"Shhh, I am here" he whispered. He littered her face with kisses trying to distract her from what was happening in her lower region. It took every ounce of self control in Viserys not to pound into her, she was warm and tight, so very inviting.

"It is getting better" She sighed, her body beginning to relax. Viserys took this as a sign to begin moving, slowly, not wanting to hurt her.

The pain slowly simmered away and the pleasure was back however it was almost like it was doubled. His cock reached areas in her body that his fingers could not. One of her hands remained holding his own which he moved by her head while her other one moved to his back, pulling him closer.

"Oh- yes- gods- this feels good" She whispered in his ears, still conscious of the men standing beside the bed. Viserys let out a sound in between a grunt and a growl. The feeling of his heavy belly belly pressing down onto hers made the pleasure rise and she was unable but to roll her hips up for more.

"So good" She moaned, bitting his ear for some soft of control. Her legs wrapped around him in a bear like hug and also for leverage to roll her hips to meet his thrusts.

"Are you close?" Viserys asked, placing kisses along her jawline. His thrusts grew more desperate. Elna moaned a loud "Yes" by accident but neither really noticed too caught up in their pleasure at this point.

Viserys reached down between their bodies in search of her clit, rolling it between his fingers once he found it. Elna's arousal assisting him with the movement as it grew.

"Viserys" Her eyes rolled back, her walls clenching around him in a vice like grip as she spasmed around his cock. Viserys following her soon after shooting his sperm deep inside of her cunt, hopefully straight into her womb for a healthy child.

"Shit" Viserys body crashed down on her almost suffocating her but she welcomed it. Her legs unlocked from around him but her arms wrapped around him, holding him close as they came down from their high, his cock softening inside of her.

He rolled off of her and laid on his back by her side both panting and sweating, looking nothing like they did earlier, no longer well kept. Viserys looked her up and down searching for any signs of pain and when noticing none his eyes paused at her breasts moving up and down with her breathing feeling a pang of disappointment he had not touched them, he was too consumed with the idea of getting rid of the three men intruding on his wedding night to remember the beautiful globes his wife adorned. However soon he will ravish her like she deserved.

"If you are satisfied, I advise you leave, my lords" Viserys called once he calmed his breathing. The three men shuffled uncomfortably out of their room with their heads hung low.

"Good riddance" Viserys rolled his eyes once he heard them close the door and mutter to one another. Soon after cheering could be heard from outside their room. Elna blushed at the thought that people were awaiting news of their marriage bed.

"Now where were we, sweet wolf?" Viserys said earning her attention again. He made love to her twice more before demanding that the maids bring them food to their rooms, Viserys did not forget that his wife had not eaten well during the feast, and if he were being honest neither did he.

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