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luvyeni · 3 months ago

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( SPOOKTOBER ) what's your favorite scary movie ! 🎞️ 一 양정인 ՞

𝓟 airings. ghostface!jeongin x fem!reader wc. 2.1k

🕸️◞ WARNINGS. morally fucked reader, murder, knife kink, oral ( ayen. receiving ), unprotected sex, rough sex

「 ♱ authors note 」 is it really spooktober without a ghostface fic?? happy day 4 everyone!!

never answer a phone number you don't know; your mother always told you this. you don't know who could be calling. she always told you , and you thought she was just being a paranoid parent — besides with what's going on in the world, who has the time to prank call someone.

“did you hear the news this morning?” you mother panicked. “what is it now mom?” you stood at the microwave, heating up some leftover food. “apparently there's a serial killer , targeting people over the phone.” you scoffed. “mom please, i told you they were pranks , stop reading articles from facebook.” you laughed. “i didn't read it on facebook , it's on the news.” she said. “look for yourself , it's on now.”

giving her the satisfaction, you walked to your living room; picking up the remote , switching on the television. “did you find it?” you clicked through the channels , finding the new station. “yeah , im watching now.”

“3 reports of murder have happened over the span of three weeks, sources claim victims all happened to be linked with a killer known as ghost face….”

“see.” she exclaimed , “you need to be careful now that you're all alone.” she said. “make sure all of your door are lock and you must never an- answer the phone for numbers you don't know.” you interrupted her. “i get it mom.” you said, the microwave going off. “i have to go now, my food is ready.” she hummed , giving another quick safety lesson. “okay, mom i love you too.” you said before hanging up , tossing your phone on the couch.

you made your way back to the kitchen to retrieve your food; only to be stopped dead in your tracks by your phone ringing again. “mom.” you scoffed, turning back around to the living room , picking your phone up from the couch , not bothering to look at the number. “mom i told you i will call you tomorrow , im fine , really.” you said , only to be met with silence. “mom?”

“what's your favorite scary movie?”

you scoffed hanging up the stupid. “so fucking stupid.” you made your way back to the kitchen , finally able to eat your leftovers , standing at your kitchen counter , scrolling through your phone while you ate , multiple articles about this ghost face killer all up and down your feed. “gosh.” you said reading the details. “so violent.”

you were about to continue on , when you got another phone call— but it wasn't your mother , it was an unknown caller. “who could this be?” you said , your thumb hovering over the decline button , you thought about that call from before; now you were curious. “screw it.” you hit the answer button. “hello?”

there was a slight breathing before a voice spoke up. “what's your favorite scary movie?” the same voice again. “who is this?” you asked , it was silence again. “hello?” you dragged out the the last syllable , but still no answer. “im hanging up now.” you said. “you haven't answered me princess?”

“so you do have a voice?” you said. “what kind of question is this?” you asked , putting your dishes in the sink. “just a curious cat.” the voice said. “do you call everyone with stupid but curious questions like this?” you laughed to yourself , opening your freezer to grab a popsicle. “only the pretty ones.” you smiled , opening the popsicle. “how do you know what i look like?” putting the icy treat into your mouth. “doesn't really matter how i know , just know i know.” he said. “now answer the question.”

“is this the part where i'm supposed to say some crappy 80’s movie that no one has ever heard of?” you scoffed. “well it's not , it the shinning.” you said. “did that answer your question? goodbye now.” you were about to hang up , when he stopped you. “you really are so pretty princess , especially sucking on that popsicle like that.” he chuckled , as you slowly removed it from your mouth. “no i bet you'd look even prettier gutted like a fish.”

“that's the look i was looking for baby.” he said. “fear.” throwing the popsicle into the sink , you walked over to the window , looking outside it.. “wh-who is this?” you asked. “an admirer of pretty things and so far you're the prettiest.” reaching up to close the curtain. “i wouldn't do that if i were you.” he said , you put your hands down. “good girl , now back away.”

“i'll phone the police.” you said , “you won't get away with this.” he laughed once more. “i’ve gotten away with it the last three times, haven't i?” thinking about it for a second. “you're that killer from tv.” he let out a fake gasp. “bingo baby , you're a smart girl aren't you.” he said. “now i know you won't call the police , because you know by time the get there , you'll be dead and i'll be long gone.”

you ran over to your security system, which was armed. “that would be smart , but it doesn't reassure anything will it? i may already be in your house.” you froze in your spot. “i might've been here the entire time.”

“don't hang up now princess , this is just getting good.” not knowing if this was some sick prank or not , you ran around the house making sure all the windows were locked. “i do like watching you run around in those little shorts , keep going you may draw me out princess.” you cursed. “shut up.” you shouted. “is that anyway to talk to me?” you ran back to the kitchen , grabbing a knife — but they were all gone. “what the fuck.”

“i’m not dumb baby, now stop running around before you tire yourself out before i even make you beg for your life.” he said so nonchalantly. “wh-where are you?” you asked. “answer me.” he sighed. “come find me.” he said. “maybe i'm in the place where you clean your pretty body , your body wash smells nice.”

you slowly made your way up the steps ; the bathroom on the left right as you go up , turning the small corner — the bathroom door was wide open , no one was inside. “i did say maybe princess , i could very well be down downstairs , or in your bedroom.” it was silent for a second and you were about to step down the steps , when a arm wrapped around you , a cold blade pressed against your neck. “or i could be behind you.” you voice whispered in your ear.

you tried to break away , but he pressed the knife deeper into your neck. “no don't do that, baby , unless you want me to slit your throat.” you stopped fighting , he laughed. “good girl , you listen well.” he said. “pl-please.” you begged , he dragged the knife across your cheek. “look at you begging already.” tapped the blade on your cheek. “trust me baby , you'll know what begging is when i’m through with you.”

he dragged you back to your bedroom , kicking the door open , throwing you on to the bed , knife still in his hand , now you could see him — well his masked covered face dried blood still on from his previous killings , black cover up. “you don't look frightened, baby.” he said. “you almost look like you're enjoying this.” he tilted his head to the side. “you are.”

you tried to scoot away on the bed , but he grabbed you ankles , pulling you back towards him. “getting wet for a killer princess , now that's a new low.” he said , spreading your legs open. “tiny shorts , i can see the mess you made , you aren't wearing any panties.” you whimpered. “whimpering like a slut.” he let your legs go , “lay down on your stomach , facing me.” knife in his hand waiting for you to obey him. “good slut.” he took the black cloak off , he was only sporting a pair of sweats , his bare torso showing , a bulge prominent in his sweats , making your mouth water.

“look up at.” he dragged the knife down your cheek , under your chin , forcing you to look at him. “so desperate for a cock in your mouth , you're drooling baby.” he let out a dry laugh, removing the knife from your face , pulling his sweats down , along with his underwear , his cock slapping against his abdomen. “go on touch it baby.” you grabbed the base of his cock , kissing his mushroom tip , red and leaking with pre-cum. “wrap those pretty little lips around my dick and maybe i won't kill you.”

opening your mouth allowing him inside , he moaned through the mask. “fuck , im gonna fuck your face.” he gathered all your hair into a ponytail , to keep you still. “fuck.” the masked man rutted his hips , forcing his cock to the back of your throat. “sh-shit thats it , take my fucking cock slut.” the knife hanging in his hand , so easy for you to grab. “fuck , yo-you might want to think twice about that baby , im way faster and it would be so easy to jam this into your head , just keep sucking like the good whore you are.”

he fucked your throat more rougher , you moaned around his cock. “there we go , choke on my dick , fuck gonna fill your mouth with my cum.” he gripped your hair , shoving his cock into your mouth roughly snapping his hips against your before cumming into your mouth. “fuck.”

pulling you off his still hard cock , you let out a string of coughs and gasps. “good girl.” he slapped your cheek softly. “i'm done though.” climbing on the bed , dragging you in the position he wanted. “let's see what's under here.” he dragged the knife up your torso , dragging his knife down , cutting the thin fabric of your tank top. “no bra , just as i thought.” dragging the blade down your naked body , stopping at your waist , pressing down. “ow.” you whimpered , he waved the knife in your face. “see how easy that was for me to hurt you , and here you are ready for me to stuff my cock inside that needy pussy of yours.”

yanking your shorts down , leaving you fully naked and at his disposal. “th-the mask.” you stuttered. “no baby that stays on , seems like you like it anyway.” he slapped your cunt. “seeing as you're dripping all over your sheets , is it the blood on it?” he dragged his length , his tip grazing your clit. “does it turn you on all the people i killed?”

you moaned , he laughed. “i guess that's what it is , you're fucking sick princess.” he let out a groan as he pushed his cock inside you. “getting wet for a killer , you were practically ready for my cock.” he held your leg around his waist as he began to pound into you. “i could kill you right now.” his knife was pressed against your neck again , you moaned. “fu-fuck , that turns you on , doesn't , your pussy tightened hearing that.” he laughed. “fucking slut , you're gonna cum aren't you.”

he pulled out of you , flipping you on your stomach , slamming back inside you. you screamed as he pounded into your cunt. you felt his blade pressing against your bum. “should i carve my name right here?”

you moaned. “pl-please , please.” he groaned. “sh-shit , i told you you'd be begging for me , come on.” he slapped your ass. “beg for me , beg for me to let you cum.”

“fuck! , please let me cum , please.” you begged , tears streaming down your face. “fu-fuck , fuck cum , cum all over my cock.” he growled , you let out a moan , legs shaking as you came. “n-no more.” holding you down by your waist , chasing his orgasm , you didn't even realize him , yanking the mask off , throwing it to the floor. “fuck , gonna cum.” he growled , a string of curse words flowing from his mouth as he came inside you. “ shit , that's it, take my cum.”

his cock softened inside you; he slowly pulled out , your body falling flat on the bed , he grabbed the knife before you fell on it. “careful baby , lord knows what i would do if seriously got hurt.” he sat the knife on the bedside table. “i'd go crazy baby.” he flipped you around , you smirked.

“crazy like killing three people?” he smirked. “crazy like killing a shit ton of people.” he kissed your lips. “but you like that don't you?” he said. “if you didn't you wouldn't be asking me to wear the very mask i use while fucking you?” he hummed , “the same knife as well?” he questioned , a crazy smirk on his face , you scoffed. “you're crazy yang jeongin.”

“i know.”

©LUVYENI

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 6 months ago

Note

How about Aegon or Aemond corrupting jace's twin? Maybe Aegon does the corrupting and Aemond is into her?

The list of morally wrong things in this one is astronomical, but it’s House of the Dragon so it’s okay. Also, this is part 1 (let me know what should happen in the next part!). I wanted to wait until it was fully finished to post, but this is 6k already so I'm splitting it

Warnings: 18+, smut, uncle/niece incest, corruption, fingering, oral (m receiving), non-consensual touch (not by Aegon or Aemond), protective!Aegon,

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

It all began when a letter from your grandsire arrived at Dragonstone, inviting you to spend summer in King’s Landing. You hadn't seen your grandsire since his fiftieth namedays, which was about two years ago, so you were more than pleased to accept his invitation. The gardens were beautiful in the summer…and you hadn’t seen Haelena in a while.

It was absolutely not in the hopes to see your uncles again.

‘’Are you out of your mind? You’re going straight to the dragons’ den! Have you forgotten how they treated us all these tears we lived there?’’ Jacaerys said, walking into your bedchamber like it was his own.

The news of your summer plans must have reached his ears after his lesson with the Maester.

‘’They’re not horrible people, you just never got along with them,’’ you fired back at your twin brother as you continued packing your bags for tomorrow.

Growing up, your brothers had a few differences with Aegon and Aemond — many stupid fights and a lot of bullying on both ends —, but you never had the same treatment. Mayhaps it was because you were spending more time with Haelena than the boys. Or mayhaps they just took their teasing too seriously.

Jacaerys was not letting it go. ‘’They called you a bastard in your back, like they did Luke and I.’’

The first time you heard the word from Aegon’s mouth, it hurt you. Being a bastard was badly seen. Especially for the children of the heir of the Iron throne. His slur branded your mother as a whore.

Having heard, Jacaerys had come forward, the two pushing and shoving until Ser Criston and Ser Harwin separated them. When informed that a fight had occured in the courtyard between Aegon and Jace, your mother was mad at Jacaerys but also flattered that he had defended her honor.

‘’We both know the truth about our father, Jace,’’ you reminded him, refusing to be blind.

Although you and your brothers were conceived from an infidelity, you didn’t feel shame in being your father’s child. You remembered Ser Harwin being around in King’s Landing and making your mother happy. He was a kind and honorable man. Leanor was rarely ever present.

‘’If the court finds out about our father, I won’t be recognized as heir. They’ll never allow a bastard to sit on the Iron Throne.’’

‘’We’re Targaryens, and that’s all that matters, all you need to sit on the throne,’’ you insisted. ‘’Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to finish packing.’’

⁂

At your return from King’s Landing, you’ll be meeting suitors — which you dreaded. That meant that this summer was going to be the last summer before becoming a wife. The thought of getting married made your stomach churn. Marriage was not something that interested you — at all. Like your mother, you would much rather ride your dragon and travel than live in a Lord’s castle and start a family.

Your arrival was announced to the King, who summoned you in the throne room.

He stood from the throne as you approached, a smile spreading across his face. ‘’Ah, there you are,’’ Viserys said warmly, stepping down to meet you. ‘’It's good to see you back in King's Landing.’’

You returned the smile. ‘’Thank you for the invitation, Your Grace,’’ you replied respectfully.

‘’You’ve grown,’’ Viserys remarked, his gaze appraising you. ‘’And you inherited your grandmother's beauty.’’

Though you never had the chance to meet Queen Aemma, you knew it was a compliment. The King always spoke fondly of his late wife.

‘’I’ll be ten and eight soon,’’ you informed him.

‘’Already?’’ The King raised an eyebrow and you nodded. ‘’Time flies, doesn’t it? We’ll have a tourney in your and Jacaerys’ honor. My first grand-children turning ten and eight, it deserves to be celebrated.’’

⁂

You changed out of your traveling dress, then went looking for your aunt and uncles.

First, you spotted Aegon soaring overhead on Sunfyre, the golden dragon gleaming in the sunlight. He had gotten so large and beautiful. You’ll have to ask Aegon to ride together next time he goes.

Next, you made your way to the training yard, where you knew Aemond often spent his time. As expected, you found him there, sparring with Ser Criston, his movements swift and precise. He was much better than your brothers at sparring, you mentally noted.

You called his name excitedly as you stepped down the stairs, which you realized was a mistake when he almost got taken down by Ser Criston. You apologized, but Aemond shook his head.

‘’No harm done,’’ he assured you, putting away his sword and walking over to you.

The last time you were in this training yard, you kicked Aemond’s ass. You were only kids, but it was still one of your greatest victories. Sword-fighting was in your blood. With a little bit of training, you would be as great as the boys in this yard.

‘’Can you still hold a sword, Princess?’’

⁂

You and Aemond cleaned up just in time for dinner, where you greeted the Queen and Helaena. They had the same hairstyle, which reminded of you and your mother, Rhaenyra. Children look up to their parents.

After dinner, you, Helaena, Aemond and Aegon retired to the latter’s chamber and spent the evening talking, laughing and eating small cakes and other sweet treats that you had requested from the kitchens.

‘’These pastries are divine,’’ you said, loving the bitter raspberry mixed with the sweetness of the tart. ‘’We don’t have anything like this on Dragonstone.’’ You took another bite, humming at the taste.

Just as you finished your third tart, Aegon stood and excused himself. ‘’It's been wonderful having you here, dear niece, but duty calls.’’

You glanced out the window, noticing the silver glow of the moon and the twinkling stars against the dark sky. ‘’At late hour?’’

Aegon paused for a moment, a confident smirk spreading across his face. ‘’Some duties can only be fulfilled at night,’’ he declared cryptically, his gaze flickering mischievously towards Aemond, who could only shake his head in response.

‘’I wouldn't exactly call it duty,’’ Aemond remarked, trailing off as Aegon interjected with a mischievous grin.

‘’A treat, then,’’ the older prince continued, redirecting his attention to you with a knowing look. ‘’You enjoy pastries. I, however, have a preference for women.’’

Confusion clouded your expression. ‘’What do you mean?’’

‘’Sex,’’ Aegon declared boldly, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

Your gaze fell to your feet, color rising in your cheeks. ‘’Oh.’’

Aegon's lips twitched with amusement at your reaction. ‘’Ever had sex, dear niece?’’

‘’Aegon,’’ Aemond interjected, his voice a warning.

You shook your head.

It was a good thing that Helaena had fallen asleep or she would have covered her ears. Sex always made her uncomfortable.

‘’Not even with yourself?’’ Aegon continued.

Confusion struck your face. ‘’Eh, no.’’

‘’You’re missing out.’’

⁂

Every night, you watched from your window as Aegon sneaked out through the secret passageway of the Red Keep. You had discovered these passageways when you were playing hide and seek as kids. Aemond always complained that hiding there was cheating, but you and Aegon did it anyway.

You couldn't help but wonder what was so great about sex that made him go out every night.

One night, you decided to follow him. The curiosity was too much to resist.

You snuck early through the secret passageways and waited for any sign of Aegon's approach. The damp, narrow corridors brought back memories of your childhood games.

Finally, you heard his familiar footsteps echoing down the passage. As he rounded the corner, you stepped out of the shadows.

‘’What is my favorite niece doing here?’’ Aegon asked, raising an eyebrow. He had a dark cloak over his shoulders, covering any signs that could give his identity away in the city.

You took a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest. ‘’I want to come to the pleasure house with you.’’

Aegon stared at you for a moment, then laughed.

‘’I'm serious, Aegon. I…I want to know about sex.’’ You tried to make your voice confident, knowing Aegon would send you to your chamber if he sensed a sliver of uncertainness.

Taking your hand in his, Aegon led you through the maze of streets and alleys. It was bustling with people. Merchants and artisanal liquor sellers were pushing their beverages at you, almost forcing you to have a taste. Some people were drunk and stumbling about, while some were playing instruments with surprising skill, their melodies blending with the occasional fights breaking out nearby. You could hear obscene sounds from darkened alleys, adding to the chaotic symphony of the night.

It was your first time coming to the city, and the overwhelming sights and sounds made you clung to Aegon, not wishing to get lost.

He came to a stop when you reached a dark wooden door. Aegon pushed it open and pulled you inside.

The stuffy air hit you immediately, making you wrinkle your nose. Aegon took off his hood, but didn’t let go of you. You were under his responsibility tonight. Around you, people lounged around in various states of undress, some lost in laughter, others in more intimate activities that brought a pink tint to your cheeks.

Aegon made a stop to the bar, ordering two cups of wine. One for him, and one for you.

‘’Drink,’’ he said. ‘’It’s nothing like what we have at the Keep, but it'll help you relax.’’

You took the glass and sipped tentatively, the sour taste of the wine making you grimace. He was right about this wine being disgusting. You had to force it down your throat.

‘’What do you do when you come here?’’ you asked, looking around with a mix of curiosity and unease.

Aegon leaned against the bar as he downed the rest of his drink. ��’I get my cock sucked. Or I fuck some whore. Depends how I’m feeling that night.’’

His bluntness caught you off guard, and you felt your cheeks flush. ‘’What of me? How do I…’’ You bit your lip, the words shy on your tongue. ‘’I don’t have a cock.’’

‘’You don’t need a cock for pleasure.’’ Aegon set his empty cup on the bar. ‘’Come with me.’’

You followed him through the mass of people, avoiding touching or being touched by anyone. Some of these people were very handsy and pushy, asking for things you didn’t quite understand.

One the way, a woman approached Aegon, her dress barely clinging to her body. She smiled seductively at him, her eyes flicking to you briefly before returning to him. ‘’Care for some company tonight, my prince?’’ she purred, hoping to make some good money tonight.

Aegon glanced at you, as if gauging your reaction, then back at the woman. ‘’Not tonight.’’

The whore looked at you behind Aegon, giving you a full stare down, and glared. Did she take you for another whore? In your silk dress and jewelry around your neck?

You followed your uncle to a room, gasping in shock when you saw a woman being penetrated by two men. One was standing at her head, her mouth wrapped around him. Spit was dribbling from her mouth, but she didn’t seem to care. And the other was thrusting into her from behind, loud moans leaving their mouths. To your right, a woman with saggy breasts was bouncing on a bearded man’s cock. She craned her head back to kiss her partner, sweat covering both their bodies.

It was not at all what you had expected. No one seemed shy or embarrassed of exposing themself in front of so many people. In fact, they didn’t seem to care at all. They were just there to take what they needed.

‘’Don’t listen to what your Septa told you. Sex is not just for baby-making, sex is for pleasure. For the woman as it is for the man,’’ Aegon purred into your ear as you watched the people around you. ‘’Men find pleasure from their cock.’’ He pointed to a man getting his male part sucked, his head thrown back and moaning. ‘’And women from their cunny.’’ He pointed to two women in a corner, one with her hand between her partner’s legs. She seemed to be feeling great pleasure, you noticed. ‘’Although most people here indulge in penetrative sex, penetration is not necessary for pleasure. You can find that same pleasure — at least similar to — by yourself.’’

‘’I want to try,’’ you stated, wanting to feel the same pleasure as her.

Aegon shook his head. ‘’We’re only here to watch. I’m not letting any of these men get their hands on you.’’

You frowned. ‘’How am I supposed to learn?’’

Aegon motioned for one of the unoccupied whores to come up to him. Her hair was brown and very long. He gave her body a few caresses, then pointed at you as he explained something to her. She nodded in understanding and took your hand, leading you to a corner where a ‘bed’ was not being used.

‘’Larissa is gonna teach you the ways to pleasure,’’ Aegon explained.

⁂

On your return from the brothel, you said a giggly ‘good night’ to Aegon and disappeared inside your chamber, excited to undress and try what Larissa had taught you. You had studied her movements, which had triggered tingly feelings between your legs.

You unlaced your dress and boots, then flopped down on your bed. You opened your legs, exposing your pussy, and took a short moment to look down at it. It was different from Larissa’s. Your hair density was different and you didn’t have the floppy skin she called ‘petals’, but you didn’t think too much of it. All bodies were different, she said.

The cool air of the room made the throbbing between your legs worse. Was this how it was supposed to feel?

Tentatively, you lowered one hand between your legs, right against your throbbing core, and breathlessly gasped when you made contact with your sensitive skin. You threw your head back against the wall and closed your eyes at the new found sensation.

Wetness stuck to your fingers and you pressed harder against your core, causing your eyelashes to flutter. ‘’Ahh.’’

Your fingers traced the seam of your slit, spreading the wetness around. Each touch sent waves of sensation through you, making you want more. Taking it to the next level, you swiped between your folds, causing you to moan as soon as you met your sensitive flesh.

You continued doing so, humming in delight and feeling yourself relax more into the sensations your fingers were bringing. Why had no one told you about this kind of pleasure before? It was much better than eating raspberry tarts.

Another moan slipped past your lips, the tingly feeling between your legs intensifying. You pushed your hips down onto your hand and sighed softly, arching your back from the bed. But it wasn't enough.

Something inside you was tingling.

Finding no better ways to relieve these tingles, you slid your middle finger inside of yourself. Immediately, your walls closed around your finger, warm and wet. It felt strange — and sinful. You began moving it in and out, your mouth opening to form an ‘O’ shape.

‘’Oh Gods…’’

You began pumping your finger in and out a bit faster, thinking it was what you needed, but it did not make the tingles go away. It did feel good, but after a moment, your hand was getting tired and the tingles were growing more intense.

‘’What am I doing wrong?’’ you asked aloud, feeling frustrated.

⁂

On the morrow, after your afternoon tea with Helaena, you knocked on Aegon’s door. He rarely left his chambers during the day — other than for dinner or to ride Sunfire —, so you knew he would be there.

Taking a deep breath, you knocked on the heavy wooden door. The sound echoed in the quiet hallway. Moments later, the door creaked open, revealing Aegon in his usual princely attire. His silver hair was tousled, and his eyes had a tired look.

‘’I need your help,’’ you said, not wasting time with formal greetings. ‘’Something seems wrong with my body, I’m afraid…’’

Aegon raised an eyebrow, leaning against the doorframe. ‘’What do you mean?’’

You hesitated, second thinking if you should be going to him about your intimate problems. After all, Aegon had boy parts, how could he help you? ‘’What Larissa taught me last night, it is not working. I tried, but I cannot…make the tingles go away. My finger is not enough.’’

Aegon's expression shifted from curious to alarmed as he glanced on both sides of the halfway, making sure no one had heard you. If anyone knew of your little escapade into the city, Aegon would be in a lot of trouble.

Then, he stepped aside, gesturing for you to enter quickly. The room was somber despite the large window dorning over the city, and the bed was unmade. You couldn’t say you were surprised by the latter.

Aegon shut the door behind you, pulling you out of your observation, and turned to face you. ‘’You should be more careful of the matters you speak about outside closed doors. You would be surprised by the number of ill intentioned ears that are waiting for bad whispers in this castle.’’

You nodded, having not thought of that. On Dragonstone, there weren't as many maids or servants. They mostly assisted your mother and the younger children, or busied themselves with cleaning tasks in the lower floors of the castle.

‘’Take a seat,’’ Aegon invited, sitting down in a large velvet chair at the center of the room and gesturing towards a loveseat right across for you. ‘’And tell exactly what you mean by ‘not enough’.’’

You pursed your lips, trying to find the right words. ‘’I do not know how to put it into words… All I know is that when I inserted my finger inside myself, it felt good. But the tingles intensified and my finger wasn’t enough anymore. A-am I broken, Aegon?’’

He laughed quietly at the last remark. ‘’Broken? No. You’re not broken, my darling. You’re simply not doing it quite right. You see, in order to truly satisfy yourself when you’re all alone…a finger simply isn’t enough.’’ Aegon leaned in his seat, speaking closer to you. ‘’Would you like me to show you how to truly do it, properly?’’

You were most certain that you should not be doing this, but going back to the brothel was not a possibility at the moment. It was likely closed during the daytime and, although Helaena was a woman, you doubted she could be of help.

Aegon stood and pulled you with him, guiding you to his bed. ‘’Lay down. Make yourself comfortable.’’

You scooted back until you hit the pillows, glaring at the sheet when your foot got stuck in it. If Aegon would make his bed in the mornings, it would not have happened.

Once you were settled, he pulled your dress up, letting the layers bunch at your hips and pushed your legs apart. You were completely exposed to him, and rather than feeling uncomfortable under your uncle’s gaze, you spread yourself wider, desperate to feel good.

‘’Gods,’’ Aegon growled under his breath. His hand gently rubbed your inner thigh, caressing your soft skin. ‘’You have one magnificent cunny, dear niece.’’ He moved his hand up the inside of your thigh, gently playing with your soft sparse hair there, almost teasingly. ‘’Makes me want to kiss it.’’

You whined, feeling a tinge of shyness at his compliment. ‘’Aegon…’’

‘’I mean it. I’ve seen a lot in my short life, but none ever compared.’’ He pressed his fingers firmly against you, making you mewl from the contact.

It felt different from your own fingers. More pleasurable.

Aegon kept up the circular motions, using a bit more pressure, as he watched your expression flicker with pleasure, your mouth open and eyebrows knitted as a moan slipped from your lips. He began swiping his thumb over your clit and it made you moan so loud anyone who was passing in the hallway must’ve heard.

Your reaction made Aegon chuckle, amused. He brought a finger over your lips, shushing you. ‘’If you do this again, you’re gonna alert one of the maids. We don't want that, do we?’’ He stroked a piece of your hair, looking at you like you were the most beautiful woman he laid his eyes on.

You shook your head. ‘’I-I’ll be quiet,’’ you promised.

‘’Now, I’m going to put my fingers inside of you,’’ he explained as two fingers slipped down and entered you, sinking between your folds.

You gasped and pushed your hips against Aegon’s hand, realizing this was exactly what you needed. ‘’Ahh, this feels so good.’’

Aegon’s smirk widened, his eyes darkening with desire as he felt your hips move against him. ‘’See, nothing is broken. You just needed uncle Aegon’s help.’’ He increased the pace a bit, his fingers moving rapidly as your breath came in short gasps and moans as your mind got lost in the sensations.

Your whole body was on fire, trembling by need as his thumb started rubbing your clit again. You felt the heat inside yourself intensify, you could feel the release you so desperately craved was building.

You whined, grabbing the sheets next to you. ‘’A-Aegon, something feels strange. I think— I think I’m going to pee.’’

You squeezed your eyes shut and focused on not wetting the bed. How embarrassing would that be?

‘’You’re not going to pee. Don’t worry.’’ Aegon continued his ministrations. ‘’This is good. This is exactly what you want.’’

‘’No. I’m going to pee, I’m going to—’’ You interrupted yourself as your back arched off the bed as your final release hit you, your hands fisting one of the pillows so hard you almost pierced a hole with your fingernails.

Aegon’s free hand covered your mouth just in time, muffling your cries while you rode out your pleasure on his hand.

⁂

You sat on your vanity chair while servants were cleaning up the aftermath of your bath. Your chamber smelled of lavender oil, which you poured into the water to help get a great night of sleep. The beds were luxurious in the Red Keep, but it lacked the comfort of home.

‘’Will it be all, Princess?’’ your handmaid asked after brushing your freshly washed hair.

You thanked her for her service. ‘’Yes. Thank you, Dyana.’’

‘’I will see you in the morning, Princess.’’

Dyana left your chambers, and you waited for the servants to do the same. You didn't want to press them, but you were impatient to watch them leave.

Once everyone was out, you laid on your bed and pulled up your nightgown.

At supper, you had sat across Aegon and your eyes had fallen on his hand holding his goblet of wine. Precisely his long, thick, and dexterous fingers. You knew it was sinful to have such thoughts during a family meal, but you had been unable to keep yourself from thinking about the intense pleasure Aegon's fingers brought you. You had to clamp your thighs under the table, feeling a needy ache in your cunny.

Your fingertips skimmed over your folds, and you let out a small moan. You've been waiting all evening to do that. Your index finger slipped down to the pearl Aegon touched this afternoon and you made small, soft circles around it. A jolt of pleasure went up your spine. That felt so good. You continued rubbing soft circles, causing arousal to leak down your cunny.

You ceased the attention to your clit and brought your middle finger down to your entrance, spreading your wetness before sinking your finger inside. A sweet moan echoed in the room, but you reminded yourself to be quiet. Always quiet.

Closing your eyes, you imagined Aegon slipping his long, thick fingers deep inside you. Your walls clenched down on your finger, and then you slipped in a second.

‘’Ah, Aegon.’’

Like the night prior, your fingers were too small to reach where you needed. Frowning in frustration, you searched around your chamber for something that resembled a finger. There was a forgotten spoon from when you had tea brought up — too small — and a wooden stick used to roll parchment paper — too big. Lastly, you saw your hairbrush on your vanity. Perfect. The handle of it was smooth, it shouldn’t hurt.

You wiped your fingers on the sheets and got up to grab it. You brought the hairbrush handle down to your cunny and paused. Although you were alone in your chamber, you couldn’t help but worry you would get in trouble if anyone found out about this. Shaking that thought, you cautiously pressed the handle to your hole, and steadily pushed it in. You felt your cunny squeezing and slighting bucking your hips at the brush.

The sensation was foreign, but not unpleasant. As you pressed the handle deeper, you let out a soft gasp, quickly covering your mouth with your free hand to stifle any more sounds. You moved the brush handle gently at first, allowing your body to adjust to the unfamiliar intrusion.

Your other hand moved back to your clit, resuming the soft circles that had felt so good before. The combined sensations were intense, sending waves of pleasure through you. Your breath was short and your eyes fluttered closed as you imagined Aegon with you, his fingers instead of the brush.

The handle moved in and out, your movements growing more urgent as tears formed at the corner of your eyes, overwhelmed by pleasure. Your hips rocked against it, whining needily as you felt the pressure building, your muscles tightening as you edged closer to climax. Your walls clenched around the handle, and with one final push, the pleasure overwhelmed you. Your body shook with the force of your orgasm, your back arching off the bed.

You stayed there for a moment, panting and trembling, the handle still inside you. That felt… You couldn’t find any words to describe it.

Slowly, you pulled the hairbrush out, and placed it on the bed. Its handle was coated with your slick but you didn’t bother to clean it, pulling the covers over your body and drifting to sleep.

⁂

‘’Good morrow, Uncle,’’ you greeted, crossing paths with Aemond in the halls of the Red Keep after breaking fast.

Aemond gave you a short nod. ‘’Good morrow, Princess.’’

‘’Are you heading to the dragonpit?’’ you asked, noting the faint scent of smoke clinging to his black leather riding doublet.

‘’No. Returning, actually.’’

A pout formed on your lips, disappointed. ‘’That's unfortunate. I was heading there and hoping we could go together. I would go with Aegon, but he is not a morning person, as you know.’’

‘’We could go in the morrow after breaking fast?’’ Aemond suggested, watching as a smile lit your face.

⁂

Just as you were about to seek servants and ask them to prepare you a bath, Aegon knocked on your door and asked if you wanted to join him for another night in the city. He didn’t have any friends to accompany him, and Aemond was too much of a prude to go to brothels. Although you were younger, you didn’t have a stick up your ass.

On the way, Aegon dropped a few gold coins and got you sweets from a street baker. He wiped the cherry glaze on your lips with his thumb, sucking it into his mouth.

You sat at a table and indulged in wine amongst the men. Around you, women were dancing in their smallest clothes, entertaining the customers inside the brothel. Beside you, Aegon watched the curious fascination on your face while sipping his wine, pleased to see you were having fun. He made sure to drink enough to relax, but not too much he wouldn’t be able to keep an eye out.

When you finished your cup, Aegon rose to his feet and took you to the back of the brothel. Excitement was bubbling in your stomach, hearing the sounds of pleasure coming from men and women behind each of the curtains.

As you entered one of the rooms, a woman came up to Aegon and begged to suck his cock for free, desperately wanting a taste of the prince. She was only wearing a piece of cloth tied into a skirt, her small breasts and pointy nipples bared to all.

‘’Watch and learn, little one. Your future husband will enjoy this,’’ Aegon said with a wink.

He shoved his breeches down, exposing his surprisingly large cock to everyone in the room. You stared at it with wide eyes. Were all the cocks big? You peaked around you, searching for comparisons, but nothing seemed to come close.

When you drew your eyes back to your uncle, the woman was kneeling before Aegon, his cock already in her mouth. The action surprised you, but you took notes and watched as she bobbed her head down his shaft, sucking and slurping as spit dribbled from her mouth. Your eyes flickered to Aegon, who was groaning, taking pleasure from the woman’s mouth.

‘’Agh, fuck,’’ he slurred, his head slightly back. ‘’That mouth is made to suck cocks!’’

On the ground, the woman looked satisfied to please him. She moaned as Aegon grabbed a fistful of her hair and forced himself deeper into her mouth, groaning obscenely until he released his semen down her throat. Some spilled from her lips, but Aegon didn’t wipe it off like he did with the cherry glaze. He pushed her off him and re-dressed himself.

‘’Do all men enjoy this?’’ you asked.

He chuckled softly before responding. His eyes met your wide, curious gaze. ‘’Oh yes, most men enjoy it very much. Now, would you like another cup of wine?’’

You smiled. ‘’Please.’’

You sat on a couch by yourself, waiting for Aegon’s return. Before you, a woman was getting her cunny pounded by a bearded man. She moaned loudly, grabbing at her nipples. The sight made you think of the hairbrush you had inserted in yourself last night. It had filled you up nicely, but you couldn’t help but wonder how delightful a cock must feel.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t notice the man who approached you until he grabbed your hand and placed it on his cock. You froze, a bewildered look on your face. He said something, but you couldn’t hear it, too focused on how clammy and hairy he felt. You tried to retract your hand, but he gripped it tightly, forcing you to rub him.

The Gods must have heard your prayers because Aegon returned with the wine and saw what was happening. His jaw clenched, and his eyes narrowed in anger. He quickly stepped in, his presence commanding attention.

‘’Let go of her or I’ll cut your fucking cock,’’ he threatened through clenched teeth, his hand on the dagger tucked into his belt. His voice was low and deadly, leaving no doubt that he meant every word.

The man’s eyes widened in surprise when he heard Aegon, and his grip on your hand loosened enough for you to slip away. You wiped it on the skirt of your dress, trying to erase the feeling of the stranger’s cock. Washing them with soap and water would have been better, but there was no bassin to do so.

‘’I-I apologize, my prince. I did not know the whore was yours—’’ the man stuttered, making excuses, but Aegon didn’t want to hear them.

He grabbed his shoulder and pinned him against the wall, bringing the dagger to his throat. The man's eyes widened further as the dagger's blade pressed against his skin, fear flashing on his face. ‘’She’s not a fucking whore,’’ Aegon’s voice was low and dangerous, his eyes burning with rage.

The man swallowed hard. ‘’I-I apologize again, my prince. I meant no disrespect.’’

Aegon took a step closer, the dagger still at the man's throat. ‘’Don’t. Touch. Her. Again.’’ He looked down at his manly parts, then back at his face. ‘’Unless you want to lose your little cock.’’

⁂

The journey back to the Red Keep was silent. Aegon's grip on your hand was tight, his knuckles white from the tension. He was fuming, his eyes still narrowed in anger, his mind clearly still consumed by anger from the incident at the brothel. He kept you close, his gaze scanning the surroundings to ensure no one else tried to approach you.

When you finally reached the safety of the castle, he stopped in his tracks and turned to you. Guilt was consuming him. What happened was his fault. If he hadn’t left your side, this man would not have forced your delicate hand on his filthy cock.

Aegon opened his mouth to speak, then shook his head. He walked past you, abandoning you in the secret passages.

—

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#aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon the second #king aegon #house of the dragon #hotd #aegon targaryen #aegon the elder #house targaryen

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celestemona · 9 months ago

Text

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘'𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐒

and they take their children to the work

pairing: dad & husband! cyno, kaveh, lyney, wriothesley x fem! reader

cw: original characters, slightly ooc to fit the plot, parenthood, domesticity and fluff. not beta-read.

reblogs and comments are appreciated ♡

Cyno

If the Matras had ever dared to think they’d witness a softer, more relaxed side of their general after he became a father, they couldn’t have been more mistaken. Cyno remained as ruthless and unwaveringly devoted to his principles as ever. In fact, the birth of his twins only intensified his sense of morality and justice. His desire for preservation and security extended beyond the Akademiya’s laws, now encompassing the well-being of Aryan and Isaar as well.

Yet, it wasn’t uncommon for some to test their luck, hoping to deceive General Mahamatra and cheat the system, believing they could escape unscathed. After all, with his numerous responsibilities, how likely was it that Cyno would notice every minor infraction?

And surely, with his sons in tow, his focus would be on their care rather than his surroundings, right? This assumption led a few scholars from Rtawahist's Darshan to attempt to slip into the desert to exploit forbidden knowledge. Too blissfully unaware of the sharp, reddish irises watching their every move.

“They never learn,” Cyno muttered, irritation lacing his voice. Adjusting Isaar snugly in the sling across his chest and Aryan comfortably on his back, he continued, “Looks like we have a long day ahead of us, boys. Baba will show you what happens to those who defy the law.”

The adorable laughter of his babies was his only response, their tiny giggles warming his heart and pulling a soft smile to his face. Well, he certainly couldn’t disappoint his little audience now, could he?

That day, Cyno returned home earlier than usual, a rare sense of satisfaction settling over him. His twin boys, though remarkably cheerful, were fast asleep, snuggled against their father’s warmth, thoroughly exhausted from their “adventure.” On the other hand, the scholars who had dared to challenge Cyno’s vigilance learned a harsh lesson: the General Mahamatra’s judgment was not something to trifle with.

However, something about being caught by Cyno while he carried his children was even more unsettling. His calm yet authoritative demeanor, juxtaposed with the sight of his babies babbling and cooing, created an intimidating contrast.

The lesson was clear: never underestimate a father’s sense of responsibility—or the unrelenting determination of the General Mahamatra.

Kaveh

There was something undeniably attractive about Kaveh holding your daughter in his arms as he discussed a construction project. You couldn’t help but revel in the sight. The seriousness in his eyes, his slightly disheveled hair, and the professional tone of his speech were all reasons you had fallen in love with the architect. But the addition of your baby girl sleeping soundly against his chest? That was enough to leave you — and every other woman present — utterly enchanted by him.

Perhaps this newfound charm was why his clientele had increased significantly in recent months. It also seemed to coincide with a noticeable decline in the number of scams he encountered, leading to a surge in his workload. Fatherhood hadn’t just enhanced Kaveh’s reputation but your daughter had unwittingly become his lucky charm.

While it wasn’t unusual for both you and Kaveh to bring Zahra along to your respective works occasionally, you couldn’t help but notice how frequently she accompanied him to the bustling streets of Sumeru. Not that you doubted Kaveh’s ability to provide her with the utmost care and security—when it came to your daughter, you knew he’d risk everything to protect her smile. But as a mother and wife, your protective instincts often spoke louder than reason, leaving even Kaveh’s reassuring smiles unable to fully ease your worries.

In the end, though, you could only laugh at how needless your concerns had been. Both Zahra and Kaveh were doing wonderfully.

From where you stood, Kaveh’s serene expression told you how smoothly negotiations with his client were going. Meanwhile, Zahra, still peacefully sleeping, managed to capture the attention of every passerby. People cooed at the sight of father and daughter, some approaching to marvel at the heartwarming scene. Many were drawn to Kaveh’s work in the process, intrigued by the charm of the handsome architect and his adorable companion.

And then there were the women—the ones who, rather shamelessly, lingered longer than necessary, basking in Kaveh’s bright smiles and soaking up his free advice on decorative aesthetics.

Who would have thought that bringing your cute daughter to work could turn into such an effective marketing strategy? Kaveh’s natural charisma and Zahra’s innocent charm proved to be an irresistible combination.

Still, as you watched him effortlessly balance fatherhood and professionalism, you couldn’t help but hope these potential clients were drawn to more than just his good looks. Otherwise, you’d have some disappointing news to deliver to your husband—and more than a few spinsters to put in their place.

Lyney

“Okay, kids. Remember to listen to Papa and Auntie Lynette, and no running. Especially you, Quenn. Stay by your sister’s side, please,” you reminded your twins as they got ready to leave with their father.

Quentin giggled mischievously, while Corinne nodded obediently, her sweet demeanor shining through as always. You could already imagine the antics brewing in your son’s mind, now that he was fully aware he’d be going out alone with his father. Still, you trusted Quentin; he was a well-mannered boy who would never intentionally cause trouble for his parents or upset his twin sister.

It wasn’t the children’s first time accompanying their parents to a rehearsal at the Opera Epiclese, but it was the first time you wouldn’t be there to watch over them. Personal matters required your attention, leaving you no choice but to entrust their care to their father and Lynette. Although you had complete confidence in Lyney’s ability to keep them safe, you couldn’t help but issue a few last-minute reminders. After all, the twins were at that dreaded “curiosity phase,” and accidents were always a possibility.

And truth be told, the reminders weren’t just for the little ones. Lyney, with a heart as soft, genuine and playful as his children’s, could sometimes be the most mischievous of all.

“Don’t worry, my love. I’m sure the little ones will behave perfectly,” Lyney assured you, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before scooping the twins into his arms. “Ready to see Papa's new magic tricks?”

Luckily for Lyney, it wasn’t a particularly busy day at the theater. His team was already hard at work, and Lynette had tested all the new magic props for the upcoming performance. Corinne and Quentin, though too young to fully grasp the intricacies of the preparation, were utterly captivated by the lively scene around them. Their amethyst eyes sparkled like precious jewels as they watched the stage being set and their father practicing his illusions.

Lyney couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride and warmth seeing the sweet curiosity in their faces. Sharing his passion with his children was a joy like no other. Seizing the moment, he decided to put on a small private show just for them.

With a flourish, he pulled a deck of cards from his pocket and manipulated them effortlessly, making them vanish from one hand only to reappear in the other. Corinne and Quentin stared in wide-eyed amazement, their mouths slightly agape. But when Lyney tossed the cards into the air and they transformed into dozens of shimmering crystalflies, the twins erupted into peals of delighted laughter.

Their joyous giggles echoed through the Opera Epiclese, drawing smiles from everyone present. For Lyney, that sound was the highlight of his day—a melody more enchanting than any applause he’d ever received.

Later that evening, as the family gathered back home, Lyney proudly recounted to you how well-behaved the twins had been. They had listened attentively to both him and Lynette, showing respect to the theater staff and staying out of trouble.

What he didn’t mention, however, was why they’d been so well-behaved: Lyney had spent most of the day doting on his two favorite people, barely touching his work.

But that was a secret he’d happily keep—just between him and the twins.

Wriothesley

The veteran residents of the Fortress of Meropide were well acquainted with Cameron, as you and Wriothesley often brought your little boy along during your patrols.

Many of them even looked forward to seeing the Duke's son, delighted by the chance to interact with the docile, giggling baby whose melodious laughter could soften even the hardest hearts. You and Wriothesley deeply appreciated the genuine affection the prisoners showed your son.

However, when it came to new inmates, you and Wriothesley had an unspoken rule to prioritize Cameron’s safety. Only after assessing their demeanor and trustworthiness would you allow them to meet your son. After all, the information provided by the Palais Mermonia was not always sufficient to predict what kind of people you’d be dealing with. Fortunately, neither you nor Wriothesley had ever needed to use force to make an impression on newcomers—and you both hoped it would stay that way.

That day, however, Wriothesley had no choice but to bring Cameron along to welcome the newest arrivals. Typically, you would have stayed behind to care for your son, but a sudden summons to the Court of Fontaine had forced you to leave in a hurry after a quick goodbye to your family.

“It looks like it’s just you and me today, buddy,” Wriothesley said with a grin as he finished changing Cameron’s diaper and dressing him. Once Cameron was secure in his sling, the baby cooed happily, drawing a fond smile from his father.

“Yes, that’s right, Cam. We’re late. Time to meet the new residents.”

Despite Wriothesley’s reputation as a fair and respectable leader, rumors of his formidable strength and ferocity in combat still lingered. Many Fontainian citizens, and even some of the Fortress's residents, harbored a lingering fear of him. On the surface, his name was associated with the prison’s darker reputation—though Wriothesley himself seemed indifferent to public opinion.

Thus, the newly arrived prisoners that morning had braced themselves for the worst, expecting harsh punishments or intimidating psychological tactics. What they didn’t anticipate was being greeted personally by the Duke—carrying a baby who looked exactly like him strapped to his chest.

While the fact that Wriothesley had a wife and child wasn’t exactly a secret, seeing it in person was a shock for the new inmates. The contrast between his stoic demeanor and the gentle way he interacted with Cameron was disarming.

By the end of the reception, the introductions had gone surprisingly smoothly. The new prisoners received detailed explanations about the prison’s system and administration, and Wriothesley took the time to assess their personalities and behaviors. He noticed, with some amusement, that people seemed to be more candid in the presence of a baby.

Later that day, when you returned home, the sight that greeted you was heartwarming. Wriothesley was sitting comfortably, sipping tea, while Cameron contentedly drank his formula, nestled in his father’s arms.

Judging by their serene expressions, it was clear they’d had a good day.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin #genshin x reader #cyno #cyno x reader #kaveh #kaveh x reader #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #lyney #lyney x reader #genshin dads au #genshin husbands au #when they're dads

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holybibly · 5 months ago

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Mommy I hate to be a bother but can you give me and the other bunnies a shorty of this naughty thought https://www.tumblr.com/holybibly/756656577787936768/did-the-bunnies-miss-me-have-you-been-obedient?source=share

I can't stop thinking about so please I'll even be a good bunny for you🥺🥺

Mmm, bunny, just because I love you so much. Here's a little teaser of what will soon be a full-length work, because I can't get these thoughts out of my head either.

Unholy hour of the day, my sugar fuzzies: Alpha Mommy Hwa gives his greedy wolf cubs a lesson they won't soon forget.

You were hot, too hot for you to handle; your whole body was on fire and tingling like you were in heat, and you had the feeling you could feel Seonghwa with every cell of your body. Your long velour ears were twitching slightly, and your cheeks were wet with the tears and drool that Seonghwa's long tongue had left behind as he licked the tears from your warm, flushed skin.

Your slutty bunny nature was singing with pleasure as you basked in the amount of attention that the Alpha was giving you at that very moment. You could taste the thick, rich taste of his sickly-sweet pheromones on your tongue and the wet feel of his tongue on your skin, his rough, possessive fingers digging into your flesh until it was bruised and bloodied. But it only made you more needy, your sticky, sweet slime pouring out of your hole like a waterfall, filling the whole room with the fertile, creamy scent of peaches and cream.

The rational part of you was still resisting, fighting against your strong instinct for self-preservation and morality, telling you to squeeze your legs together and cover your slutty, needy cunt. But the velvety purring of the head alpha behind your back and the pathetic whimpering of San and Wooyoung at your feet plunged you deeper and deeper into the lustful depths of pleasure, making your thoughts of virtue and modesty melt away.

The whole situation was Woosan's fault. When those seductive wolf pups invited you to play this morning, you never imagined you would end up like this—on Seonghwa's lap, wrapped in one of his luxurious fur coats and covered in jewellery from head to toe, while his huge, thick alpha-cock stretched your tiny pink cunt until it almost hurt. You writhed and cried in his arms, begging him to fuck you and satisfy your hunger and need, but your mommy was merciless, torturing you for hours on end, and not just you, if Wooyoung and San's red, painfully hard cocks pressed tightly against their tense, stained, and glistening with pre-sperm stomachs were any indication.

The viscous, clear liquid was trickling down between the reliefs of their abdominal muscles and dripping onto the floor, collecting in puddles of liquid lust between their spread thighs. And you thought for a second that maybe when it was all over, the main Alpha would make them clean up the mess with their tongues. While he will sadistically watch the wolf pups lapping up their own cooled sperm. Sometimes your mommy was very sophisticated when it came to punishing, but even that didn't stop any one of the wolves from trying to stick his dick in you up to balls.

Maybe none of this would have happened if San and Wooyoung had just fucked you or licked your pussy like they usually liked to do, but their inner instincts urged them to mate you, to make you their own. And now they were paying for their greed, fucking the air and coming dry while Seonghwa rolled your pussy on his huge cock and made them watch.

Part of you even felt sorry for them, their pretty faces covered by heavy silver snout muzzles, tight leather collars wrapped around their necks, and at the base of their dicks, the beautiful metal rings that kept their knots from swelling were glistening.

You scream, a shiver running through your entire body as the thick head of your Alpha's cock nuzzles the edge of your cervix, thanks to a particularly deep thrust. Oh God... The memories of how Mingi, Hongjoong, and Seonghwa rearranged your insides two nights ago, how they literally fucked you to the brink, come flooding back into your mind, and a new load of thick, sugary mucus spurts out of your hole. Seonghwa had been especially kind to the huge, passionate wolf that night, letting him have his way with you, but after Mingi and that daddy had fucked you almost to the point of unconsciousness. The head Alpha took you again, tied you up with his knot, and fucked you at a brutal animal pace, folding you in half so that your legs were pressed against the sides of your head.

Your mommy had fucked you countless times—in the morning, in the afternoon, in the evening, at night—pulling you onto his cock like a glove, but you still couldn't get used to the size of it. It felt like his cock was getting bigger with each session, more veins showing on the heavy velvety length and his thick knot practically tearing you in half as he fucked you like an animal. Stuffing you with his cock and pouring so much cum into you that your belly swelled like you were in the early stages of pregnancy.

Seonghwa's appetite for you was insatiable. Everyone in the house, including Hongjoong, had to remember that you belonged to him and only to him. And if the sore, raw, never-healing bite on your neck wasn't enough to make everyone understand that, Seonghwa would always give them an object lesson.

The Alpha's fur coat was too heavy for you to carry, but Seonghwa had recently taken to dressing you up in it. Naked in his luxurious coat and draped in tonnes of jewellery was his favourite look on you. At the moment, you had a diamond collar around your neck that clearly indicated who you belonged to; it was restricting your breathing almost as much as the Alpha's long, skilled tongue in your throat.

A pathetic wail caused Seonghwa to tear his lips away from yours and turn his attention to the moaning, writhing mess at your feet. San and Wooyoung were tense to the breaking point. You could see their muscles twitching and contracting beneath their golden, sweat-soaked skin, their tongues tracing the metal bars of their muzzles, and the veins in their necks bulging as the Alpha tightened their leashes.

"Have a look at the pretty cunt my little sugar thing has." Hwa purred softly, sliding his hand down your body until his long fingers parted your labia as he exposed your tiny hole stretched around his cock to the greedy, dark gaze of the wolf pups. The soft, wet edge of your entrance clung to Seonghwa's knot with every deep thrust he gave it.

"A-a-alpha, please..." You whine, clutching your hand to Seonghwa's wrist as he continues to hold your pussy open and vulnerable.

The deep, dark growl of the wolf pups echoes with the smug, dark laughter of the alpha leader, and you instinctively cringe at the terrifying, vibrating sound that shakes San and Wooyoung's chests as they bare their sharp teeth and dig their claws into the dark parquet, leaving long, jagged stripes on the expensive wood.

His fingers release your labia, only to slap the palm of his hand hard against your clit, causing you to squeal and squirt around his cock. The walls of your pussyclench together to hold Seonghwa's hot, smooth length inside of you, and copious amounts of clear liquid spurt out of your hole onto the floor as he continues to slide in and out.

"All this is mine." Seonghwa growls in a low voice, his mouth sinking into the raw bite on your neck, only to suckle it roughly.

Another growl is elicited from San and Wooyoung, and the Alpha licks your skin one last time before he turns his attention to the cubs.

"Impatient, greedy bastards." Hwa's long fingers tangle in Wooyoung's silky, two-toned hair, squeezing and pulling his face down on your pussy with great force, almost burying his pretty face in your folds, but the snout prevents Woo from getting what he craves so much. His luxurious, fluffy tail whips out behind him as he smells the rich scent of your slick, and he moans loudly, his whole body shaking as if he has a fever. The need to fuck you, to breed you, to fill you with his cum until your pussy is warm and saturated with all his cum drives him literally crazy. He arched his back to press himself even closer to you, even though Seonghwa's cock was still deep inside you, so deep that Wooyoung could see it bulging out on your stomach.

San's no better, rolling his hips and fucking the air, hoping for relief; his sharp cat eyes focused on you, catching your every reaction like his life depended on it. And when streams of milk start running down your body, flowing freely from your breasts, his tongue hangs from his mouth, and his breathing becomes laboured.

"Mmm, Sannie, you want to have a feel of our little fluff too, don't you? Come here." Seonghwa grumbles and yanks hard on San's leash until there is another adorable face right next to your cunt. Your mommy's fingers slide between your folds again, rubbing the sticky slime all over your pussy, and then he brings his dirty fingers to your mouth, and you obediently open your lips for him, allowing him to push them into your mouth.

Another moan, mixed with a growl, escapes from Wooyoung and San at the sight of your little tongue swirling around those long, slippery appendages, and the main Alpha moans in satisfaction.

"Look how desperate you are; you want to try it too, don't you? You want to eat MY bunny's sweet, sticky snatch, don't you?" The wolf cubs nod their heads in desperation, their muzzles almost bumping into each other. "You'd have to do better than that if you want me to let you do that, you little bitches. For now, all you can do is sit back and enjoy the show."

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whatswrongwithblue · 7 months ago

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Girl Talk

Part Two of my Imagines with Angel Dust.

“So Alastor, he’s like all . . .” Angel Dust made strange gestures with his hands above his head, his thumbs pressed to his hair and fingers splayed out, and you were fairly certain he was trying to mimic antlers growing. “. . . murder-y and shit right? Even if he’s at the hotel, you can’t expect us to believe he’s stopped doing all that.”

It was late at night and you and Angel were at the bar, keeping Husk company, and nursing a couple of cocktails.

Alastor had disappeared hours ago, which wasn’t unusual, but it was getting late. You weren’t letting yourself be worried just yet, he was the Radio Demon after all, and could certainly take care of himself. But you couldn’t help being a little on edge. Alastor always came home but still. He could give you an idea of where he had gone off to and what he was doing when he took off like this.

“Why, are you going to tattle to Charlie if I say he is?” you said, a little too defensively.

“Hey, I ain’t no rat,” Angel said, also defensive. “I’m just trying to figure the guy out.”

“He’s still the Radio Demon,” you respond vaguely.

“Oh well that tells me everything.” Angel rolled his eyes.

Husk chuckled, wiping a glass dry.

“He’s a serial killer and a cannibal. The day that guy stops doing all that is the day I’ll stop drinking and gambling.”

You scowl over the rim of your cocktail.

“You make him sound like a monster when you say it like that.”

Husk raised an eyebrow at you.

“Excuse me if I ain’t your boytoy’s number one fan. ‘Sides, not like anything I said wasn’t true.”

“Hey, he’s not out their killing all willy nilly, right?” Angel offered. “I mean, I pissed him off the other day and he let me go. Val woulda done way worse. So that means he’s got a type, I’m assuming? Like a uh . . . a demographic . . . of people he kills. If you ain’t that, he’ll still be creepy and fucking weird, but you’re probably safe.”

“Probably,” you smirk.

“Whatever,” Husk said with a grumble, and threw his towel over his shoulder, turning his back on the two of you.

“So, about those tentacles-“

“No,” you snapped, cutting off Angel’s sentence before it could be finished.

“Oh come on! You can’t leave me hanging like that!”

You just rolled your eyes and sighed, taking another sip of your drink.

“Oh . . . hanging, now there’s a thought,” Angel pressed on. “So suspensory play, huh? I bet those are really fun for that. Just how talented is the guy with those things? Because I bet with some practice, you could even use them for some interesting kind of Shibari. Or is he unimaginative and just shoves them right up your-“

“Angel, seriously, did you not learn your lesson last time?”

“Oh I learned my lesson all right. I learned how hot it is. So c’mon, admit it,” he teased, leaning closer to you, “you guys are into bondage.”

You laughed, unable to hide the sly smile on your face, but said nothing.

“I guess it makes sense,” Angel continued, “the guy does own souls. He’s probably gotta have that type of control in the bedroom.”

“You just go ahead and let your imagination run wild, my friend,” you said with a giggle.

“Baby, my imagination can run marathons,” Angel bragged. Then suddenly, he turned serious and looked over at you. “Wait, does he own your soul?”

Husk turned around and both men were now looking at you. Knowing both of their predicaments, you almost felt bad for your answer.

“No,” you said quietly.

“NO?!” Angel yelled, slapping his hand down on the bar counter.

‘No,” you repeated.

“But . . . but, that’s what he does. I mean, he even owns Niffty’s soul. So why are you with him-“

“Angel,” you interrupted, putting your hand on his arm. “I’m with him because I love him. Because I choose to be.” You said your words firmly, making sure your point was crystal clear. “And anyway, Alastor’s not the type to sleep with a soul he owns. It’s hard to explain his twisted moral code but he would think that was rude . . . or abusive . . . or just trashy. No offense.”

You knew about Angel’s forced and strained deal with Valentino and felt awkward, exposing the stark differences between your relationship and theirs.

“If I was making him sound like a monster, you’re making him sound like a fucking angel,” Husk said.

“Fair,” you agreed. “So, he’s complicated. But so am I.”

“So you really are into monster fucking. Got it,” Angel said, sounding deadly serious but when you looked at him, you saw the hint of a smile beginning to spread across his face.

“Wellllll,” you said, drawing out the word and giving Angel a side eye, “sometimes he has to blow off some steam. And those antlers are great for holding onto for balance.”

Angel choked on the drink he was taking a sip from.

“Now we’re talking,” Angel replied, eagerly leaning towards you again.

You held up a finger, stopping Angel from invading your space anymore. “That’s more than enough information for now.”

“Let me get this straight. He’s got the tentacles, he’s got the antlers,” Angel listed, holding up a finger for each item on his list. He held up a third finger, looking at you and tilting his head expectantly. “Say, you ever have a threesome with his shadow?”

You felt your face heating up, desperately trying to keep your composure and think of a witty response that wouldn’t give anything more away than your expression was, when thankfully you were saved by the front doors of the hotel slamming open.

Alastor walked in, his usual confident walk more of an exhausted shuffle, and he was covered head to toe in blood and the occasional clump or string of viscera.

“Holy shit buddy,” Angel exclaimed, “looks like you bit off more than you can chew.”

“I’m fine,” Alastor huffed and waved his hand dismissively. “Splendid, really. Just need some cleaning up.”

“Do you need any help?” you asked, sounding more flirty than concerned.

“Down girl,” Alastor replied and tapped you on the head with his microphone as he strode past you. “I’ll see you all in the morning.”

He evaporated into shadow as he reached the staircase.

“If he could just do that, then why’d he have to make a show of walking through the front doors?” Angel complained, “He left bloody footprints all over the lobby!”

“That’s Al’ for you,” Husk said, “Always gotta be dramatic.”

You sat in silence, ignoring the two men’s banter and you gripped the glass of your cocktail, staring at it as if it had your entire focus.

A few moments went by where no one said anything and the lull in conversation became awkward.

“You don’t have to stay down here, you know,” Angel offered. “I can tell you want to go sexually attack him.”

You nodded. “I need to go lick every inch of that man clean,” you said and headed upstairs.

Part 3

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #alastor fanfiction #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #angel dust #hazbin angel dust #angel dust x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #alastor imagine #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel fic #hazbin hotel fanfiction

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readychilledwine · 1 year ago

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hello helloooo! I’m back with another fic idea if it interests you ✨so little Nyx is old enough to go to school maybe like kindergarten-ish age? And one day the IC is eating dinner and Nyx is like “I have a mate!” And obviously he doesn’t but still Rhys and Feyre are like WTF and then read his little bby mind and find out he’s just infatuated with his teacher. (Nyx gave her a cookie that he baked with the help of Elain which she ate and now he thinks they’re mates bc he’s too young to understand that that’s not how it works) and then during a school carnival or gathering or cute kindergarten level graduation the IC attends with Nyx and ofc Azriel is there. He doesn’t even know who Nyx’s teacher is but then he sees Nyx dragging a young female over to him where he introduces her to him, proudly saying “this is my mate!” And she just laughs but then the bond snaps for her and Azriel. And then fluff ensues from there with everyone trying to explain to Nyx that she’s not his mate and that she’s Azriel’s to which he takes forever to understand. He keeps trying to give her treats and flowers so that they’ll somehow be mates. Azriel becomes public enemy #1 in Nyx’s eyes because he stole her from him. And then fast forward to when Nyx is older, maybe finally with a mate of his own and they tell him the story at his wedding and he’s so embarrassed about it. could def see this as an OC fic but x reader works just as well!

Infatuation

I love writing little baby Nyx 🥺🥺🥺

Warnings - Nyx being a bit of a menace to society *well Az*

Nyx was beaming. Bouncing as he ate his dinner, little wings flapping every so often.

It wasn't unusual. Being surrounded by this much love, this much joy, this much devotion had made the little heir the happiest of babies, then a happy toddler, and now a happy 5 year old.

He picked up his little cup, sucking on the straw and took a big drink as Rhysand and Feyre shared a look. He set it back down with a satisfied lip smack and went back to his mashed potatoes.

"Alright, I'll bite," Cassian put his knife down. "What happened at school today?"

"I met my mate," Rhysand's face dropped at his son's little confession. "And she's perfect, and nice, and prettier than mommy."

Feyre hid her laugher behind a mask of concern before gently digging into Nyx's head.

There, as Nyx thought about his mate, was Miss Arianna, legs crossed as she read to them on the floor. Her black hair was tied up in two buns with pieces framing her face. She had a big smile on her lips as she read in different voices from the children's book.

Feyre and Rhys, despite their status, sat on a waiting list to have Nyx in her lessons. She was highly sought after, her students were all advanced for their little ages, and she allowed time in their schedules for naps. Something many teachers felt was unnecessary.

Rhys had loved you the moment he made the choice to ignore his morals and enter your mind during their interview.

You didn't care who they were.

You didn't care about their status.

You cared about the faelings.

You took children from every walk of life in Velaris. The poor, the rich, high fae, low fae. It didn't matter to you.

Rhys and Feyre both shared a look and chuckled. "And who is your mate, Nyx?"

He sighed with a dreamy look in his eyes, mind now flashing to you comforting him after he got hurt at recess, "Miss Arianna. I gave her a cookie, and we shared it, so I'm a taken male now."

Nesta had her hand over her mouth, eyes sparkling. "Well," Cassian started before a slap came to his thigh, warning him to let Rhys and Feyre take care of this gently. "You did better than Auntie Ness. She offered me a stale biscuit."

"Your mom made me a can of soup. Worse can of soup I've ever had. Lucien, what did Elain give you?"

Lucien smirked and leaned back, hand on Elain's pregnant stomach. "A five course meal with dessert."

They were all hoping Nyx would understand the implications of what they were saying, but the far-off look and content sigh told them he didn't.

A few weeks later, the inner circle and all of their partners and mates were at the school's end of the year celebration.

The grass had been packed with games, little events for the children, vendors charging nothing for sweets and foods at the kindness and generosity of the High Lord and Lady.

Nyx had long abandoned his family. Opting to run and play with his friends. Cassian and Nesta stood with their daughter, looking over the schools information sheets and the application to join Miss Arianna's class for next year.

"Mommy!" Feyre turned at the voice, beginning to laugh as Nyx dragged his teacher behind him. "Mommy! You were supposed to be behind me!" The heir tapped his foot, Miss Arianna looking away as she hid her smile at his little antics. "I had to bring her all the way over here!"

Arianna and Feyre held eye contact both of their eyes sparkling and knowing where this was going. "Mommy, this is my wife and mate, Miss Arianna," he pulled her to Mor and Emerie first. "This is my Auntie Mor and her wife Emerie." He didn't wait before ripping her to Amren and Varian. "Aunite Amren and Varian. You'll like Auntie Amren. She's real smart." She was pulled to Rhys next. The two adults shook their heads, smiling. "This is daddy. You can call him.... uh. Daddy?" He pulled her to Cassian and Nesta. "Auntie Ness and Uncle Cass," he looked around brow knit in confusion. "Where's Uncle Az and Clarissa?"

Rhys patted his head. "Ris wanted cotton candy, so Az took her to get cotton candy. Why don't you go play too? Then we can talk to your wife."

They watched as Nyx ran off. Clearly not looking to play but trying to find his missing uncle. "I tried telling him, but he's so attached to the idea of us spending the rest of our lives together that he doesn't fully understand."

They all laughed. "We tried too. He told us that we didn't understand."

"Strange. He said to me that the bond didn't snap right away for you either, High Lady, so he'd find the Suriel to tell me, and I'd feel it after that."

A soft pout came to Feyre's lips. "He doesn't understand why you won't be their teacher next year."

Arianna's face fell, the fine features morphing into sadness and longing. "I introduced them to Alexios and even had him sit and answer questions during round up day. I can talk to him. I'm so sorry. I wish I could keep them until higher level learning. We just-"

Feyre hugged her, stopping the unneeded apology. "We know. Cassian and Nesta were hoping to get Clarissa in your class."

"And we were hoping to hire you for private tutoring," Rhys, like his son, was not ready to let Her go. He had spent countless nights looking for ways to keep Nyx in her classes. "We would pay you well."

"That wouldn't be necessary," she turned to Cassian and Nesta, a big smile on her face. "Would you like to see my room? I'll have a different theme next year, but it will give you an idea of my environment."

"Lead the way," Cassian held Nesta close. Watching the two females interact, inserting questions as they walked into her classroom.

The Inner Circle all went to find food and place to eat, enjoying the small screams of joy and laughter around them. "She's really pretty," Emerie started slowly. "Maybe we should hook her up with Azriel. He hasn't dated since Gwyn."

Varian visibly flinched at the mentioned of Gwyn. "Does he still hate Tarquin?"

"Yes," they all answered together.

Azriel joined them seconds later. He was carrying Risa and holding Nyx's hand. "She crashed. Where's Cass? I'm going to take her home?"

Rhys motioned towards the schoolhouse, pulling Nyx to him and telling him to sit and eat. "Arianna offered them a tour of the classroom. A quiet place out of the sun might perk our niece back up, too."

Azriel nodded, carrying the small illyrian into the school house and following his shadows. He could hear melodic laughter and Cassian's loud voice, pausing at the doorway as his niece stirred and snuggled back into him, whispering for daddy. "He's right here, princess."

Nesta motioned for Azriel to join her. His jaw dropped at the sight of the classroom. It was a domed open glass ceiling, but the second it he entered, it began filtering light. "It knows she's sleeping," that voice had his shadows dancing. "I enchanted my room for my students so they're always in a comfortable environment. Never too bright, hot, or cold."

The room was filled with toys and exotic stuffed animals for snuggling. It was decorated like a rain forest from the continent, and an occasional call of something wild could be heard. "I suppose you enchanted all of this too?"

Azriel didn't look her direction, a look of shock and amazement going Nesta's way. Lady Death nodded eagerly, her eyes almost watering. She'd be heartbroken if Clarissa wasn't here next year, Azriel realized.

"Is this the little potential enrollee?" She walked over to Azriel, and nothing else was heard in the room. They didn't hear Cassian or Nesta respond, they no longer heard the soft sounds of animals and birds calling in the distance.

It was like everything in Azriel's life fell onto a new axis.

Arianna was his mate. The female he'd spent forever looking for.

And his nephew was obsessed with her.

Arianna spoke first, "We can't tell Nyx."

Azriel nodded. "I'll get banished to Mother knows where if we do."

Cassian looked between them before smiling, "Did you just secure my daughter's spot in her class? What kind of Aunt wouldn't teach her niece?"

Nesta smacked him hard, smiling from ear to ear. "Have dinner with us tonight? We share one of Rhys' and Feyre's houses with Azriel. He could fly you up for dinner, and we could all get to know each other."

"Only if you want that," Azriel nodded the second the sentence left her lips. "As, am I allowed to be blunt now?" They all nodded. "I was going to take her regardless," she turned to Nesta. "Morrigan scares me. It's why I took Nyx, too."

Arianna held Azriel's hand tight as they walked to the Riverhouse.

They had spent the summer getting to know each other. Going to coffee, to dinner, on long walks along the Sindra. It had taken all of a month for the two of them to decide this was serious, and they both wanted to move forward with the bond.

But that meant telling Nyx, who was still very much infatuated with her.

Azriel sighed as he grabbed the handle, "Ready?"

She nodded, hand stick folded delicately on his bicep. "Only if you are."

Azriel pushed the door to the lavish home open, smiling at Rhys and Feyre, who were waiting for them. They, Cassian, Nesta, and Azriel, had all decided the best way to do this was over a full family dinner.

"Uncle Az!" The shadoesinger stiffened. He had thought they would at least get to the table before the little heir appeared, but the Mother must have had other plans.

He came bounding into the room before stopping at the doorway with a loud gasp.

Azriel had never felt more like chopped liver as Nyx ran to his mate, hugging her legs. "Uncle Az brought my wife to dinner, Daddy!"

Rhysand scratched the stubble he had allowed to grow out due to his days being spent caring for Nyx as Feyre sat the throne. "We should all go sit on the couch, buddy. We need to talk about something."

Arianna allowed Nyx to pull her with him, looking back at Azriel with tears in her eyes.

He had discovered during their time together she had a Cauldron gift, one that had never been trained and just thought of as a personality trait. Arianna was an empath. She felt the emotions of others so deeply and could manipulate them if she tried.

It explained why she was so attached to children and them to her.

It also made her very useful in stressful situations. "Just breathe," Azriel mouthed as they all followed.

"Oh shit," Nesta whispered quietly. "We're doing this now?"

Rhys nodded. His eyes were already lining with silver as he sat across from Nyx with Azriel on one side and Feyre on the other.

The room was very quiet until Azriel spoke. "Nyx, Miss Arianna and I really need to tell you something, and we need you to try to stay calm." The shadowsinger sent a silent prayer to whatever Gods would listen and watched as one of his shadows held Arianna's free hand.

"Miss Arianna is my mate. I asked her to marry me."

The heir's face morphed into a little look of betrayal, his eyes starting to water as Rhysand and him held eye contact. "She's my mate, though."

Nyx looked at Feyre, hoping for support before looking back to a defeated Rhys. "I'm sorry, buddy, but She's Uncle Azriel's mate. Do you remember me telling you about the thread that connects me to Mommy?"

The heir cuddled closer into Arianna, glaring hard towards Azriel. "Why are you so mean?"

Feyre gasped at the question, immediately grabbing Azriel's hand. "Nyx!"

"He's trying to steal my wife!"

Arianna was in tears. The heirs emotions were overwhelming. She took over the conversation, blocking everyone from Nyx by taking both hands and sitting on the coffee table. "Nyx, honey, I'm so sorry, but Az and I are mates," they all felt the small tinge of magic shift. "I know this is hard for you. Your feelings are so valid, and it's difficult when you feel something this deeply to let go of that notion. It's hard processing such big emotions."

She wiped one of his tears. "Your mate is out there, hun. And she's wonderful, kind, smart, and closer in age than I am to you. You two will have so much more in common, and you will find joy and happiness in her that you never will in me."

"But she won't be you," Nyx sobbed heavily. "We're supposed to spend forever together."

She smiled softly. "And we will. You will always have me in your life. We will always be friends."

He glared towards Azriel, and Arianna turned his little head towards her. "You are hurting his feelings. Uncle Az loves you. We've spent a lot of time talking about how to handle this because he knew it would upset you, and it hurts his heart to see you so sad. You don't want to hurt Az. I can see if in your little face."

Nyx still glared at Az. "What if you two break up?"

"You'll be the first to know, bud," Azriel said softly.

"Good."

"Good," Azriel repeated.

"Fine."

"Fine," the heir smiled as his Uncle teased him.

It was then that Nyx decided to dive on Azriel, the Illyrian coming out of them as he started a tickle fight. "She was mine first!"

Azriel was laughing, holding the smiling boy close to him and allowing him to win. "And now she can be our. We can make her go places with us, bug her while we fight with our training swords, do pranks."

The heir stopped, that dimpled smile coming back out. "Prankies?"

Arianna's face fell as everyone started laughing. "Wait. What?"

Azriel smiled at her, sending her his love as Nyx whispered in his ear.

"We good?" She mouthed to him. He nodded, holding Nyx close. She stood to go comfort Rhys and Feyre, only for a shadow to trip her. "AZRIEL!"

The heir and shadowsinger ran off laughing as the other couples watched Arianna with shared grins, "Don't worry, sweetness," Cassian helped her up. "They're just getting started."

.General tag list:@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager

#azriel acotar #feysand #nessian #azriel x oc #azriel shadowsinger #acotar x oc #acotar

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mossangelll · 13 days ago

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yandere!viktor x reader

machine herald controlling you you to the point of infantilisation⁉️

this is probably on the fringe for a lot of people but the idea of a yandere going to such extremes because they “know what’s best for you” and experiencing such a dehumanising loss of agency scratches an itch for me

tw: forced age regression, uncomfortable dynamics, forced drugging, toxic behaviour

“Do you want the crayons or the storybook, hm?” he holds them up to you in either hand, “Speak up for me. I know my darling can do it.” If you didn’t know any better about him and the horrific things he’s capable of, you would honestly believe the gentle cadence paired with his own unique twang was calming and paternal.

What a sick fuck.

He had that smarmy grin plastered to his face as he watched you in silence, waiting for a response that obviously would never come. After all, he made you a makeshift pacifier that was strapped inside your mouth using soft fabric that also wrapped around your hands. He took your voice and mobility all in one fell swoop and you were helpless against him.

“Aw, poor little thing. You must be tired, eh?” His cold metal hand comes to press against your forehead, thumb easing away the tension etched there.

He hoists you up with ease from where you were sat at your miniature table and carries you over to a large mattress in the corner of your room, what he’s lovingly dubbed your “crib” due to the child-friendly gates surrounding it, and places you amongst the sea of soft plushies and pillows.

He sits down next to you on the edge of the bed and smooths the stray hairs that have come out out your immaculate hair do, one he did for you, of course. He wants to be a reassuring presence for you but as you lay before him, you feel bile rise in your throat.

The frustration continues to well up and your eyes burn with unshed tears until you can’t hold them back anymore and you sob. But even your cries come out muffled and you’re not able to truly express the anguish that rages inside of you, a freedom that is your birthright.

Why, out of everyone, did you end up with this psycho that treats you like a child?

Viktor lets out a soft gasp and immediately crouches down by your side. “Shh darling, everything will be ok. Seeing you like this makes me very upset, you know.” He coos but the wide smile he doesn’t even bother to hide tells a different story.

He leaves you for just a moment, fearful of what kind of accidents you could get into in his absence, he once said. You rolled your eyes at the time, still fighting for your independence with venomous words and sharp rebuttals, and was promptly punished for your disobedience. It wasn’t the first time and definitely won’t the last, but now you’re more accepting of your position with Viktor’s - better to make your life easier by giving into his unusual desires than be punished again and again and again until you finally learn your lesson.

He comes back with a steaming mug of hot chocolate, cooled just enough that it wouldn’t burn your mouth.

He pulls a vial full of a pale yellow liquid out of his pocket and drops two splashes of it into your drunk before giving it a good stir. He does this in plain view of you, knowing that there’s nothing you can do to stop him. Though your untrusting gaze cuts right through him, he continues on not caring about what you think is “moral”. He scoffs at such black and white thinking; you don’t have the knowledge and power he does, so how could you ever care for yourself the way he can?

“Drink up, darling. You’ll feel right as rain in no time.” He doesn’t give you the option of declining as he’s quick to pull out your pacifier and press the mug against your lips, cradling your head forwards so you don’t choke.

The hot chocolate is rich and velvety, smooth and indulgent with a slight edge you’re not quite able to place. Something of his invention, no doubt. Viktor often forbade you from eating too many sweets so this was clearly his way of placating you, baiting you into being on your best behaviour.

It’s unnerving, the way his curious amber eyes stare into yours with no intention of looking away, as if you were a perplexing equation he needed to find the solution to. You were simply something he needed to fix, a small stepping stone that meant nothing in his greater plan to solve humanity’s suffering.

Your head feels cloudy as you slowly fall into a smaller version of yourself, one that’s scared of the dark and cries whenever Viktor leaves.

You hate that he’s reduced you to a shadow of your former self, forcing you to act like a child while you frantically grip onto the disintegrating remnants of your past life. You hate the way your eyes start to flicker as drowsiness engulfs each of your senses - you especially hate feeling like you’re rolling over and simply allowing him do as he pleases, but as much as you wish to protest and scream you’re rendered still by whatever concoction he spiked your drink with.

Either way, he would probably get some depraved enjoyment out of you having a tantrum, since it only goes to prove that you need him to look after you and you’d rather not supply him with more fodder for the fire.

Viktor begins to hum a childhood song from the undercity but when the melody reaches your ears, it’s dampened like your head is submerged deep underwater.

He reaches for your hand which you limply grab onto with what little strength you have left, “There, there, little one. Close your eyes and sleep. You’re safe here.”

And sleep you do.

masterlist

#yandere viktor x reader #yandere viktor #toxic viktor #viktor x reader #viktor arcane #arcane fanfic #arcane #age regression #forced age regression #forced infantilisation #yandere

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starrycassi · 1 month ago

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VERY old and uncooked au I have where Viktor (and eventually jayce) end up working for Silco.

(Edited on December 17th, 2024. Added Sky to the plot, edited the way the heist happens, explained a bit more about The Herald, generally added some other details)

PART 1 - VIKTOR (childhood, adolescence, survival)

Singed actually takes the child in. Yeah I know Viktor technically HAS parents but we've never seen em in the show so I'm ignoring them

So Viktor now lives + works for singed. He gets over his morals real quick when faced with a fully equipped laboratory. He's a child, okay? He gets excited and is eventually groomed (I don't mean romantically, just like molded) by singed into agreeing + obeying all the things the older man tells him. Silco joins in on the part later and toys with his brain as best as he can

Singed uses him as a bargaining chip with Silco. An investment, if you will.

A bit of a "future promise" thing. Viktor actually agrees to this because he knows it's the best shot he's got. All the years living alongside Singed have made him into a more cynical/realistic person. He's 13 and already grumbles at "kids these days"

And Silco is an opportunistic man. He looks at this young, blooming genius and goes "yeah, why not? He is your problem, though. Have some money and make me a bomb"

Viktor also gets a pretty decent gun and shooting lessons. His aim is decent enough. He also hangs around sevika A LOT. He recognizes her as the strongest, safest individual if a fight breaks out and tells her ad much. She won't admit it but the praise feels good. She allows him to hover around and he helps her with small things like lighting hee cigarettes or refilling her flask. It's a symbiotic relationship where they both look at each other dead in the eye when someone is saying stupid shit.

So Viktor is like 15 and suddenly faced with even MORE power and recognition, even MORE fundings and accomodations.

This boy pours his life and time into making weapons. His dreams of being a scientist are slowly forgotten as both Singed and Silco effectively turn him into their perfect little genius.

They turn his desire to help against himself, telling him that the only way the under city will ever get better is if they go against piltover and win (which yeah I mean it kinda makes sense) and just general promises and such

Silco is genuinely surprised by how inventive the kid can be, and in return Viktor appreciates the man's offers and words for what it is: a trap he's wilfully walking in.

Silco does NOT feel any affection for the kid. At least not a lot more than he does for sevika or any other loyal worker. He is amused by his intelligence and somewhat entertained by his ideas. He seems Viktor as more of a small dog he's raising, expecting him to develop sharper and sharper fangs. He does care for Viktor in the "one of my youngest workers is more efficient and savvy than five of yours" way

Viktor doesn't feel any affection for Silco, either. He's a really down-to-earth kid, has lived in the fissures all his life and has been coached by singed into how to navigate the under city. He knows singed doesn't really trust the man and doesn't plan on doing so himself. He does love the opportunity he's given, but knows damn well that it's all done for a higher reason.

He does feel a connection with singed, though. It's mutual in a way. More of a mentor-mentee thing than any paternal/familiar relationship, but they're both satisfied with it. Singed respects Viktor and treats him as an equal, which also means he can a bit too harsh on what is essentially still a fragile teen.

They are protective of Viktor only in the way one is protective of their own gun

PART 2 - VIKTOR (last of his teen years, young adulthood, rage)

EVENTUALLY Viktor manages to worm his way into the academy (in the same way he did in canon) while hiding from Silco, Singed and Sevika, and is, instead, rejected. Heimerdinger is too weary of Viktor and his general attitude (for a good reason) and plans on having him interrogated. When he tries to get Viktor to walk alone into a room with him, Viktor panics and starts stuttering out explanations. He knows his position in the under city is conditional. Knows the leash that Silco has around him. The academy could be his safe haven and now he's losing it.

He's also fake-dating Sky while this goes on. Except she's fully convinced they're gonna get married and Viktor is a Homosexual™

Heimerdinger does his best to try and calm him down, however, every word he says makes the situation worse. He's so clearly out of touch, promising things that could never be done.

Viktor is under a lot of pressure and just starts spiraling. Everything the yordle says makes things worse and worse. The commotion calls the school guards attention and Viktor gets almost thrown in jail, all while heimerdinger tries to tell the guards to let him go. Viktor eventually manages to sneak out but fucks his leg up even more in the process.

Sky tries to help, they have a horrible fight and essentially roast each other until they're both kinda crying. Sky cries the most.

He returns "home" and, refusing to be taken back for such a thing, turns his sadness into bright, burning indignation. Silco might be an idiot, he realizes, but he's right about some things. He burns down the uniform after ripping it into shreds.

After all of this, he abandons any dream of ever getting out. Singed looks at him knowingly, tells him that sneaking around is a fine art he hasn't mastered yet, and leaves. Silco welcomes him back with a satisfied smile, and a "see, boy? I was right"

Silco isn't killing Viktor for his betrayal because he smells the heartbreak and KNOWS that this is the time to attack if he wants that boy to be on his side for the rest of his life. Sevika isn't even mad. Just kinda disappointed.

And it WORKS. Viktor is devastated and isolated, and Silco effectively positions himself as the only current logical option. Viktor knows that this is all a shit show but decides that there's nothing to lose by working for the biggest kingpin in the city

This is what begins his transformation as The Machine Herald, or "Herald" for short. His leg is Fucked Up and Singed goes "hey how about I do an unsupervised surgery on you" and Viktor just kinda goes "yeah well why not". He wakes up with more wires than veins in that leg but it hurts a lot less so. Can't win them all can we?

Years go by, Viktor becomes part of silco's inner gang, since Silco is finally sure that this boy has nowhere to run, no one to ask for help. He develops what could be seen as a friendship with sevika. They drink together every so often, trash-talking the rest of the henchmen in hushed whispers in between assignments. She tries to give him life advice in cryptic ways. He kinda gets it. Most of the time.

He makes up with sky and become Best Friends™. In a way. When they're not trying to get each other to come back to Zaun/Piltover

He keeps sky a secret from them all in fear of... Well, of whatever the fuck they could try and do to her if they got mad at him.

He's also a bit of a slut. I mean he's young, hot, kinda part of Zaun's elite, smart... yeah he's getting around. This part is important I swear. No it's not I just want Viktor to get it on. He's constantly sneaking pretty boys in and out of wherever he's staying at that week which is why no one really questions Jayce (see, it was important) the first few days he's in his house after The Trial (idk where the fuck sevika sleeps. Do silco's henchmen just sleep in his house??? Does he provide apartments?? I need to know)

People in the under city actually start talking to Viktor as he gets older, realizing that he's a bit less violent than the rest of silco's thugs and they have a 50/50 shot that he will actually help them in their pleas. This is always weird to him but he endures it for the sake of staying on top of what's being said in the city. And he's also generally a kind soul deep down

He buys from benzo frequently, and Benzo tolerates him because once, very slowly and in a hushes tone, he heard Viktor tell Ekko to never work for anyone with a shark aquarium.

Viktor is quite fond of Ekko. If Silco didn't basically own his soul, he would definitely take the kid in. Which is why he eventually becomes the biggest timebomb advocate.

PART THREE - MEETING JAYCE.

He's in Benzo's shop when he meets jayce.

He goes "yeah I could get him to suck me off probably" and tries to approach

And then jayce pays in GOLD and DOESN'T HAGGLE

And he realizes that this idiot is a piltie. He also realizes that whatever the fuck he just bought and the whole projects he's talking about could be useful for him and silco will not like it if a PILTIE out of everyone outsmarts him in weapon creation. He literally gets in between him and the door with absolutely no idea of what he's going to do (there is absolutely no way he's upping that payment sorry silco you are no match for the Kirammans)

There is no time and he defaults to "oh this is not my bedroom!" mode.

Cue him saying something like "I've never seen such a pretty face in this store. Are you from around here, darling?"

Ekko is gagging in the background.

They flirt yada yada I have the scene but it's too long to write here. U get the idea. I'd anyone wants to read that ask me but for now just use your imagination

Viktor offers Jayce to come back with him to his house for "protection" because "these streets are sooo cruel for foreigners" and Ekko hypes him up. "Oh Yeah Herald here is So Strong and Everyone Respects Him" which is technically not a lie. Jayce gets overwhelmed and accepts. As this is happening the kids are staging the heist but it has not happened yet. Don't ask me about timelines idgaf

They make out a bit, Jayce tells Viktor all about his theory (which is arguably hotter for Viktor) and shows him his notes (because obviously he carries his journal with him)

Viktor is BLOWN AWAY by this. He gets all worked up. Never felt this horny before. They discuss for a while, and Viktor decides that THIS is something he can stand behind. Actual discoveries, not just drawing blueprints after blueprint of the same fucking thing

Really how many ways can one design a weapon in

Anyways

Viktor sort of mildly drugs jayce and steals three of the shiny orbs and then wakes Jayce up and tells him that this was delightful and such.

PART FOUR - Hey Silco Can We Adopt This Boy. For Science

The heist happens the very same way. Viktor hears about it, about the trial, and decides that all these years of work should get him some privileges

He goes "If you're going to change the world, don't ask for permission" and just goes to save Jayce. Originally I had him argue with Silco and Singed to allow him to do this here but yk what? This man is too impulsive to do that. He's breaking his man OUT with two bribed bodyguards and Janna on his side. Sky is 100% on board because she kinda knows Jayce and he's really nice so she doesn't want them to banish him.

Viktor breaks jayce out do NOT ask me how #thepoweroflove and Sky's blessing or whatever. The henchmen get to punch enforcers so they're happy about it.

The "am I interrupting?" Scene happens. It's also too long so.

It takes Viktor a while to convince Jayce to, yk, betray his country and leave everything he's ever known behind, but Jayce was literally about to kill himself and Viktor is talking about change and help and people who actually need it (lies) and he looks so beautiful under the moonlight and he remembered him. So. Really what can one realistically do in this situation if not agree with the criminal who's trying to save you from exile.

They rush back to Zaun, Jayce leaves a hasty suicide note and says he will drown himself in the river and not to search for him (he leaves a slight clue for him being in Zaun as an alibi in case they eventually find him and want to blame Viktor for kidnapping. Which is such a hot and clever thing that Viktor almost kisses him right there), they break into heimerdinger's room via Sky giving them the keys, steal all the equipment they can carry (henchmen & co brought some bags okay??)

When Mel arrives they're gone. She calls for the guards to come but they're waaay out of her reach and Sky is there all beaten up and crying (she agreed to it)

There might be a motorcycle involved. Cyclists Viktor... Yeah. Hot.

When they arrive, he has his very first actual screaming-match kind of fight with Silco and Singed about keeping A Piltie in their territory, but they eventually and very reluctantly give in. Also Jinx is there. So Silco isn't really that preoccupied with who lives with Viktor and more with how to make this child stop wailing.

Silco knows that even a worm will turn. If Jayce does agree to work for them and stays loyal, then they get another good worker. If not, they can always kill him. He's never heard Viktor this adamant about someone before, and damn he's seen the boy walk around with some pretty faces. Maybe this Jayce fella truly is smart.

PART FIVE - JINX AND JAYCE

When Viktor shows up he finds out that silco has adopted a child. Also Sevika doesn't have an arm. Also Vander is dead. So is, presumably, that child with the bad haircut. So is Benzo. Which is a bummer. He liked the store.

Ekko is nowhere to be found. That's a bit sad. Really sad. He sheds a few tears.

Jayce hates everything that's going on around him buts this man is SUICIDAL, basically homeless, penniless and his one and only lifeline is Viktor. Even if he stayed in Piltover no one would've been able to help. He's just kinda going with the flow. Having him gives Viktor his backbone and morals back. Slowly. Very slowly.

Hextech develops WAY slower. Like they're working in a drug den in the middle of what is basically a hastily put together lab there's absolutely no way there's the same conditions. They're doing their best though.

Jayce Is actually really impressed by shimmer and how it can "help" people. He's gaslighting himself ATP and everyone else is enabling him. No Jayce you're just creating an army of drug addicted zombies what do you mean giving power to the people.

Also eventually Silco gives Viktor a laced brace that makes him mildly addicted to shimmer. Viktor is clever enough to realize what's going on but also experienced enough to know that refusal would be seen as an offense. He takes the brace on and off with his own prototypes. Sevika and him both know they're just digging themselves into a deeper hole. With time he just goes "yeah fuck it" and starts regularly using it on his wires for the better performance of his leg. Glorious evolution or something.

Silco actually tries to kill jayce once because he was getting too fucking annoying and self-righteous, but Jinx steps in. He reminds him of claggor (in a bizarre way). She claims that they're both her friends and she loves them and silco just seethes in silence because Why did he become a father.

They help raise her. Kinda. Not co-parenting. More like co-uncling. They're both horrible influences but they aren't worse than Silco's enablement so it's just a very fucked up raising strategies cocktail.

I wrote all of this so I could successfully say that they have a tea party with her.

THEY LOVE LIL JINX OKAAAY. Specially jayce. He takes all his emptiness and sadness and anger and tries to fill it with love for her and Viktor, the only two people he feels are kind of honest to him. He tries to befriend Sevika. Doesn't really work at first.

Also Jayce being jealous of the fact that Viktor got around, specially when he has the audacity to give powder boy's advice (sevika is a STONE TOP LESBIAN you can NOT tell me anything else) right in Jayce's face. Yeah. Miscommunication. Falling in love. Devotion and guilt. Feelings of owing. Hesitant kisses and never said words. YEEES. I know it's a bit tropey but I like it so. Yeah.

Also both Jayce and Vik have long hair. Jinx insisted they let it grow like hers. Jayce's actually reaches his shoulder plates/mid back while Viktor keeps it shoulder length, just long enough to tie it. I think. Still haven't decided since long hair Jayce is too hard to mentally picture but I know he would look GOOD

Yes this also means that Jayce and Vi meet even earlier. They take a look at each other as they both try to calm down jinx and Become Best Friends™

Caitlyn always has a heart attack because YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD. She, like Vi, goes "yeah silco is definitely keeping my sister/brother captive" and they're both like You Will Not Believe This.

Viktor doesn't join them in their adventures because he is Not jumping around the roofs. He uses a cane. Leave him alone jinx no he can't climb the stupid ass tower.

Jinx and Jayce become a sort of "ground control" thing. Jayce is BUFFED that man can stand his own in a fight. He's not as quick or flexible but he makes up for it in pure absolute brawn. They're not actually doing anything useful they're just entertaining Jinx every so often.

Idk guys this au is consuming my brain.

I have more ideas but this was way too long already

If u read this far u can actually ask for a small scene on the au or add an idea and I'll write it for u

#jayce talis #jayvik #jayce x viktor #arcane au #jayvik au #jinx arcane #arcane silco #silco and jinx #sevika arcane #Arcane #please don't flop #i wish my mind was this talkative in the middle of essays #DOES ANYONE SEE THE VISION #yes this is technically a corruption au ig #i have no idea how s2 would fit in here #i just want jayvik to be actual mad scientists yk. like yes I need to commit Several Crimes #I'm not in any way shape or form implying or saying that silco is a good person or wtv they're all war criminals in this au actually #shimmering progress au

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buttercandy16 · 20 days ago

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Corrupted Vows

PAIRING(s): Nun!Agatha Harkness x Novice!Reader

SUMMARY: Sister Agatha, a revered nun with hidden desires, becomes obsessed with corrupting the pure-hearted novice under her care.

WARNING(s): Religious themes, manipulation, power imbalance, corruption, morally ambiguous behavior, and dark themes.

A/N: Sinful...

The abbey was cloaked in silence, its heavy stones steeped in centuries of prayer. The air was cool and faintly scented with wax and incense, a comforting cradle for your thoughts as you knelt in the chapel, whispering soft, fervent prayers to the Divine. It was your sanctuary—your refuge—until Sister Agatha arrived.

Her presence was undeniable, a velvet shadow slipping between the stained-glass windows and casting its allure over the sanctity of the room. There was something magnetic about her, something in the way her eyes lingered too long or her voice curled sweetly, like forbidden fruit on the tongue.

"You work tirelessly for your faith," she said, her voice low and tender. It startled you. You hadn’t heard her enter, but here she was, her face serene under her veil.

You looked up at her, blinking like a doe caught in lantern light. "I... It is my duty," you murmured, averting your eyes. Her gaze always felt too heavy, too piercing, as if she could read every stray thought that strayed from the righteous path.

Agatha smiled, stepping closer. Her robe whispered against the floor, brushing the silence aside. She reached out to tilt your chin upward with a gloved finger, forcing you to meet her eyes. "Duty," she repeated softly, as if tasting the word. "Such a heavy burden for someone so young, so delicate."

You flinched slightly under her touch but didn’t pull away. You told yourself it was respect, but deep down, the fluttering in your stomach betrayed an unease you didn’t understand.

"I was praying," you said quickly, retreating to the safety of your well-rehearsed habits. "For strength and for wisdom."

"Strength," Agatha mused. "Wisdom." Her fingers slid from your chin, lingering against your cheek, too intimate to be innocent. "Those are noble requests, my dear. But are you sure that’s what you truly need?"

Your eyes darted downward. "I... don’t understand."

She knelt beside you on the pew, her presence warm and overwhelming. "Do you think the Divine asks us to deny the very desires They instilled within us?" Her voice was velvet, an insidious comfort.

You froze, your mind reeling. "Sister... we are taught to resist temptation. To walk in the light."

Agatha chuckled, a low, melodious sound that felt sinful in itself. "Temptation is not the enemy, child. It's a lesson. To feel it, to embrace it, is to truly understand your faith. How can you resist what you do not know?"

Her hand brushed against yours, her fingers curling softly around it. Your breath hitched at the contact, a pang of guilt piercing through your chest even as you remained motionless.

"Sister Agatha..." you whispered, unsure of whether you were protesting or pleading.

"Shh," she soothed, stroking the back of your hand. "You work so hard, always giving, always sacrificing. But what have you been given? What warmth, what love, have you received for your devotion? Tell me."

You felt tears sting your eyes. It wasn’t something you’d allowed yourself to dwell on, but her words cut too close to a hidden wound. "The love of God is all I need."

"Is it?" she murmured, her lips close to your ear. "Then why do you look so lost, so lonely? Faith is powerful, yes. But it is not enough to fill a heart meant for more."

You shuddered, her breath warm against your skin, her grip firm now, anchoring you. "I’m not lonely," you insisted, but your voice cracked under the weight of the lie.

Her lips brushed the shell of your ear, not quite a kiss, but enough to leave you trembling. "Let me show you what it means to be truly loved, to be truly seen. The Divine isn’t just in the light, my dear. The shadow holds Its secrets, too."

For a moment, you were caught in her thrall, her words weaving a web of doubts and dangerous possibilities. But when she pulled back, her smile was soft, her eyes tender. "Think on my offer, little one. I’ll wait for your answer."

As she stood and left the chapel, her departure was like a storm receding, leaving you adrift in its wake. The air was colder without her, and the familiar silence of the abbey felt suffocating.

You clasped your hands tightly, bowing your head once more, but the words of your prayer faltered, her voice and touch lingering too deeply.

Somewhere in the depths of your soul, a seed of doubt had been planted. And Agatha, with all her charm and shadowed intentions, would be patient.

You lingered in the chapel longer than you should have that night, trying to exorcise the memory of her voice, the whisper of her touch. But even as you murmured prayers to drown her out, her presence clung to you like incense smoke—heavy, invasive, intoxicating.

When you finally left, the halls of the abbey were silent, save for the soft patter of your footsteps. You paused outside your cell, hesitating before entering. It felt too small, too quiet. The walls pressed in, as if they were accusing you. But of what? You had done nothing.

You thought sleep would bring respite, but it didn’t. Dreams came instead, vivid and strange: Agatha’s voice echoing, her hands on yours, guiding, possessing. The darkness around her swallowed everything, and you couldn’t stop walking toward her.

When you woke, sweat clung to your skin, your heart racing like you’d been running. The morning bells tolled, and you hurried to begin your duties, your shame a constant specter at your side.

But she found you again—of course, she did. She always found you.

This time, it was in the garden. The sun had dipped below the horizon, the twilight air cool against your skin. You were trimming roses in silence when her shadow fell over you.

"Good evening, little lamb."

You stiffened at the sound of her voice but didn’t turn to face her. "Sister Agatha," you said, trying to keep your tone even, though your hands trembled on the shears.

"You’ve been avoiding me."

It wasn’t a question. She stepped closer, her hands clasped in front of her, the picture of serene authority. "Do I frighten you?"

"No," you lied, swallowing hard.

Her fingers trailed over a rosebush as she watched you with that predatory gaze. "Good. Because I see something in you, something… untapped."

"Sister, please," you said, voice shaky as you turned to face her. "I don’t understand why you keep… saying these things."

"Don’t you?" Her voice was silk, sliding under your skin. She moved closer, invading your space, the scent of her—warm and faintly spiced—intoxicating. "You’re a bright little spark trapped in stone, and I cannot stand to see you dim yourself. Your God does not demand you be less than you are. Why should they?"

Her words struck a chord, unearthing a bitterness you didn’t even know you’d buried. You flinched, and she saw it—she always saw too much.

"I’m fine as I am," you said weakly, trying to step back, but she caught your wrist, her grip firm.

"No," she said, her voice darker now, carrying an undercurrent of steel. "You’re not."

The gentle tenderness in her face twisted into something sharper, a mask cracking to reveal the dangerous power beneath. "You’re wasting your light here, giving yourself to something that cannot love you the way you deserve. Why do you punish yourself for wanting more? Why do you fear me when I am offering you freedom?"

"Because it’s wrong," you whispered, though the words felt hollow even as you spoke them.

She tilted her head, her grip on your wrist tightening just enough to send a shiver of unease through you. "Is it wrong to want what you’ve been denied? To step out of the shadows of guilt and into the arms of someone who sees you—truly sees you?"

Your breath hitched as she stepped closer still, her other hand rising to cup your cheek. The look in her eyes pinned you in place, a storm threatening to engulf you. "You know it already," she whispered. "Deep down, you’ve always known. All you need is someone to take your hand and lead you to the truth."

Her lips brushed against your forehead, light and reverent like a prayer. You shuddered, frozen under her touch. "I can give you everything you’ve ever denied yourself," she murmured, her voice heavy with promise—and threat.

Her hands fell away suddenly, leaving you cold and bereft. She stepped back, her expression softening, though her eyes remained predatory. "The choice is yours," she said, turning to leave. "But I’ll make it simple. Tonight, after Compline, come to the east tower." She paused, her smile slow and wicked. "Or don’t. We’ll see if your devotion is as pure as you think."

You stood there trembling as she disappeared into the shadows, the roses around you whispering in the wind. For the first time since you’d taken your vows, you didn’t feel safe within the abbey walls. Worse still, you weren’t sure if you wanted to.

You couldn’t focus during Compline. Your lips formed the words of the prayers, but your heart wasn’t in them. Every moment dragged, the solemnity of the abbey’s rituals weighing on you like chains.

And through it all, the thought of her lingered. The east tower.

Your mind swirled with doubt, fear, and something darker—something you refused to name. Every warning from your teachings echoed in your ears, but they felt distant, drowned out by the sound of her voice, the memory of her touch.

When the prayers ended, and the sisters began retiring to their cells, you hesitated. Your legs felt like they belonged to someone else as they carried you through the dim corridors, each step a betrayal of everything you’d vowed to uphold.

The east tower loomed ahead, its staircase spiraling up into darkness. You paused at the base, your breath coming in shallow gasps. This was your moment to turn back, to prove you were stronger than whatever spell she’d cast over you.

But something deeper pushed you onward.

The climb was silent save for the soft shuffle of your shoes on the stone steps. The air grew colder the higher you went, the shadows darker. When you reached the top, you hesitated again, your hand hovering over the heavy wooden door.

Before you could knock, the door creaked open on its own. She was waiting for you.

The room was dimly lit, a single candle casting flickering shadows across the walls. Sister Agatha stood by the window, her back to you, the moonlight outlining her figure. She didn’t turn as she spoke.

"I wondered if you’d come." Her voice was calm, almost pleased.

You stepped inside, your throat dry. "Why did you ask me to come here?"

She turned then, her expression unreadable, her sharp eyes cutting through the low light. "Because I couldn’t bear to see you suffocating any longer," she said simply, stepping closer. "You’re meant for more than this, little lamb. And I mean to show you."

Your back hit the door as you instinctively stepped away from her. "This isn’t right. It—it’s not what God wants."

She laughed softly, a sound that felt cruel in its mockery. "And who told you that? The priests? The abbess? Have you ever asked God what they want, or do you simply recite the rules you’ve been given like a good, obedient servant?"

Her words cut deep, stirring something rebellious and bitter in your heart. Still, you shook your head, clinging to the shreds of your convictions. "No. I—I have faith."

"Do you?" she challenged, now only inches away from you. Her hand lifted, brushing against your cheek again, her touch electric. "If you had true faith, why are you here? Why are you trembling?"

You didn’t have an answer.

Her other hand slid to your waist, holding you firmly but not cruelly. "The truth, my sweet little lamb, is that you’re afraid. Not of me, not even of sin, but of the freedom I can give you. Because freedom is terrifying, isn’t it?"

Her grip tightened slightly, her lips so close to your ear you could feel the heat of her breath. "You could leave right now," she whispered. "I wouldn’t stop you. But we both know you won’t, don’t we?"

Your breath hitched, tears springing to your eyes as you fought against the war raging in your chest. She pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, her face softening as she saw the conflict within you.

"I don’t want to break you, my lamb," she murmured, her voice strangely tender now. "I want to save you. From this place. From this life. From yourself."

Her lips hovered over yours, an unspoken question hanging in the air between you. She didn’t move, didn’t take the choice from you.

It was yours to make.

You closed your eyes, your head swimming, every nerve in your body screaming for you to decide—to turn away or to fall.

You stood at the edge of a precipice, the storm of emotions inside you threatening to consume you. Every teaching, every prayer you’d clung to in your short life wavered, fragile as the flame of the candle flickering behind Agatha.

You opened your eyes, and her face was still there, so close, her gaze unyielding. She was waiting—patient, confident—but her eyes betrayed something else: hunger. She wanted you to choose her, to step willingly into the darkness she offered.

Your lips parted, trembling as your breath mingled with hers. And in that moment, you let go.

You leaned forward, barely aware of the decision, and your lips brushed hers, soft and tentative. Agatha let out a soft hum of satisfaction, her hands tightening on your waist as she deepened the kiss. It was overwhelming—her warmth, her touch, her control—and for a moment, the world around you dissolved.

When she pulled back, her eyes burned with triumph, her smile wicked. "There, now," she murmured, her voice dripping with honeyed sin. "That wasn’t so difficult, was it?"

You staggered slightly as she released you, the weight of what you’d done crashing over you. Your fingers went to your lips, trembling, as the shame seeped in.

"I—I shouldn’t have—" you stammered, taking a step back, but Agatha caught your wrist and pulled you to her with a strength that belied her graceful demeanor.

"Hush," she whispered, her fingers threading through your hair as she tilted your head back to force you to meet her gaze. "No more lies, little one. Not to me, and not to yourself. You came here because you wanted this. You needed it."

"I… I don’t…" The words faltered, your resolve crumbling under the weight of her conviction.

Agatha’s hand moved to your throat, her touch firm but gentle, her thumb brushing along your pulse point. "Don’t fight it," she murmured, her tone soothing. "You’ve been caged your whole life, chained by rules and guilt that were never yours to carry. I’m not asking you to abandon your faith. I’m offering you something truer—something deeper."

Her lips found yours again, this time demanding, devouring. You tried to resist the pull of her darkness, but every part of you betrayed you, leaning into her, clinging to her. You hated the way her touch made you feel alive in a way that prayer never had, hated the fire it ignited deep in your chest.

When she finally broke the kiss, her hands still cradling your face, her expression was softer, though no less commanding. "You belong to me now," she said simply, her voice like the closing of a door. "Body, soul, everything. Say it."

You shook your head weakly, tears spilling down your cheeks. "I can’t…"

Her thumb brushed away your tears, her gaze unfaltering. "You already have, my lamb. You just haven’t admitted it yet." She leaned close, her voice lowering to a whisper. "Say it, and I’ll show you a world beyond the walls of this prison. Refuse, and you’ll stay trapped, forever haunted by the taste of freedom you denied yourself."

Her words wrapped around your mind like chains, pulling you deeper into her orbit. You were drowning, and she was the only hand reaching to pull you out—but into what?

The words left your lips before you fully realized you’d spoken them, trembling and quiet: "I… I belong to you."

Agatha smiled, her eyes gleaming with victory. She pressed a kiss to your forehead, reverent in its tenderness. "Good girl," she purred. "Now, the real work begins."

Her hand slid to yours, her fingers entwining with your own, and she led you toward the window, the cool night air washing over you as she opened it. The moon hung low in the sky, full and luminous, casting everything in shades of silver and shadow.

"This world," she said, her voice soft yet commanding, "is far darker than they’ve prepared you for. But don’t fear it. It is only in the darkness that we find the truest light."

You stared out into the night, your heart pounding as her words sank in. You couldn’t go back now. Even if you wanted to, the part of you that craved her, that had always longed for something more, was awake.

Agatha stepped behind you, her arms wrapping around your waist as she rested her chin on your shoulder. "It will hurt," she said quietly, her voice almost tender. "Transformation always does. But I’ll be there for every moment, shaping you, remaking you. Until the only chains left are the ones you choose."

And as the wind swept through the open window, carrying the scent of freedom and danger, you closed your eyes and let yourself fall.

The following nights became a blur of shadows and secrecy, a rhythm you couldn’t break, even if you had wanted to. Agatha’s hold on you tightened with every encounter, her presence an intoxicating blend of tenderness and cruelty that left you more disoriented with each passing day.

She began isolating you in subtle ways—requesting your assistance during communal prayers, leading you to walk with her when the others gathered, always ensuring your focus remained solely on her. At first, you told yourself it was coincidence, but deep down, you knew better.

One night, she summoned you again to the east tower, her presence colder now, sharper. You hesitated at the threshold, the memories of her touch pulling you forward even as your instincts screamed to turn back.

The candlelight illuminated her silhouette, and for the first time, the shadows in the room seemed alive, flickering and dancing unnaturally. Her voice was soft when she spoke, but there was no warmth in it. "You came," she said. It wasn’t a question.

"You… asked for me," you murmured, your voice weak and brittle as you stepped inside.

"I did," she said, turning to face you. Her gaze pierced through you, her expression unreadable but heavy with something sinister. "And you came because you belong to me, don’t you?"

Your mouth opened to reply, but the words caught in your throat.

Agatha stepped closer, the air around her charged with something oppressive. "Say it," she commanded, her voice low and firm.

"I belong to you," you whispered, your voice barely audible, and yet it echoed in the silence of the tower.

Her smile was slow, almost predatory. She reached for you, her fingers brushing over your cheek. The touch felt colder tonight, no longer tender but claiming. "Good girl. You’re learning."

She turned abruptly, moving toward a small table in the corner of the room. You hadn’t noticed it before—though how could you have missed it? On it lay a single black book, its cover worn and marked with strange symbols, and a slender dagger glinting faintly in the candlelight.

"You’ve prayed to the Divine all your life," she said, her back to you as she traced a finger over the book’s spine. "And yet, here you are—willingly giving yourself to something far darker. Do you know why?"

You swallowed hard, unable to answer.

She turned, her eyes burning with something unholy. "Because your prayers were never enough. Because no matter how pure you tried to be, there was always that voice in your head, wasn’t there? The one that whispered of things you could never name. Desires you buried. Pleasures you denied."

You shook your head, your breath shallow. "I—no, I’ve always been faithful."

"Faithful," she said mockingly, her voice cutting like glass. "And yet, you’re here. Kneeling before me as if I’m your god. Isn't that what you’ve always wanted? Not salvation, but surrender."

Her words wrapped around you like chains, binding you tighter as she stepped closer, the book now in her hands. "I told you before, my lamb, that transformation would hurt." She set the book down, her eyes never leaving yours. "Tonight, we begin."

You took a step back, dread pooling in your stomach. "What do you mean?"

Agatha smiled, a dark, cruel thing. "This innocence you cling to—it’s a lie. And I will burn it away until there’s nothing left of the girl you were. Only then will you be truly mine."

Her fingers wrapped around your wrist, her grip ironclad as she dragged you to the table. The dagger glinted ominously as she pressed it into your trembling hands.

"Cut away the veil," she whispered, her voice a velvet command. "Offer a piece of yourself, not to the Divine, but to me. Show me your devotion, your true faith."

You shook your head, tears streaming down your face as you tried to pull away, but her grip was unrelenting. "I—I can’t—"

"Yes, you can," she hissed, her gaze unyielding. "Because I own you. And you will prove it."

The blade trembled in your hand, the weight of her gaze suffocating you. Your mind screamed to resist, but your body obeyed her command, as if your will no longer belonged to you.

You pressed the edge against your palm, the sharp pain bringing a gasp to your lips as a thin line of blood welled up. Agatha’s smile widened, triumphant.

"Good girl," she purred, taking your hand in hers and holding it over the book. The blood dripped onto the ancient text, the crimson stark against the dark leather.

You collapsed to your knees.

You knelt there, trembling, clutching the blade in your hands as the tension in the room suffocated you. The glint of metal against your bloodied palms seemed more symbolic than dangerous—a mark of your crumbling will, etched into flesh by your own choices.

Agatha’s presence loomed above you, her hand resting on your shoulder in a gesture that was almost comforting, though it carried no warmth. Her grip tightened slightly, possessive, reminding you that there was no escape, even if you wanted to flee.

"There’s no power in that blade," she said softly, her voice carrying the same chill as the cold stone beneath your knees. "The only power here is mine. And the only reason it matters is because I have chosen to give it to you."

You looked up at her, your tear-streaked face illuminated by the pale candlelight. There was no trace of kindness left in her expression. Her features were serene but unnervingly controlled, as though her emotions were held behind a wall, deliberate and impenetrable.

"What… what do you want from me?" you whispered.

Her hand slid from your shoulder to your chin, tilting your face so your gaze met hers. Her smile was faint, and the silence stretched uncomfortably before she finally spoke.

"I want everything."

The words settled heavily between you, an undeniable truth wrapped in her commanding tone.

"You cling to these walls, these prayers, as if they’ll save you from what you truly desire. But deep down, you know they won’t. No one here will." She leaned closer, her eyes fixed on yours, her voice low and intimate. "I am the only one who sees you for what you really are, and you can’t bear to look away. Admit it."

"I don’t understand," you stammered, though you did. You understood perfectly, but admitting it would mean giving her the power she claimed—and more terrifyingly, that she already wielded.

Agatha chuckled softly, a sound devoid of humor. "Oh, but you do. You came here tonight, not out of fear or obligation, but because you wanted to." Her fingers trailed lightly down your cheek, a touch that sent shivers of confusion and guilt through you.

"I came because—"

"—because you couldn’t stop thinking about me," she interrupted smoothly. Her confidence was unnerving, like a hunter closing in on its prey. "Every word, every touch, every breath I take has haunted you, hasn’t it? And now, here you are, begging me for something you don’t even have the courage to name."

Your throat tightened, the air in the room too thick to breathe. "This isn’t right," you said, the words barely audible, more for yourself than for her.

She smirked. "Isn’t it? Who defines what’s right? The same voices that told you to suppress your desires, to live in quiet servitude while they hold the power over your life? Or is it me—the only one who truly knows you?"

Her grip on your chin firmed, and her voice dropped, colder, sharper. "Don’t play the innocent with me. I see you, really see you, and you disgust yourself because I am everything you can’t admit to wanting."

The truth of her words struck like a slap, and you flinched.

Agatha released your face and straightened, towering above you as she studied your trembling form. "Stand," she commanded, her tone brooking no argument.

You hesitated, but the force of her gaze compelled you. Your legs wavered as you stood, and she stepped closer, her body almost brushing yours.

"You are not leaving this room until you admit the truth," she said, her tone deceptively calm. "And it isn’t the blade that will cut away the lies—it’s me."

She circled you slowly, her eyes never leaving you as you stood frozen in place. Every step she took amplified the weight in your chest, the humiliation of her scrutiny unraveling you piece by piece.

"I could break you," she said, her voice a cruel whisper in your ear. "I could shatter every illusion you have of yourself and leave you as nothing but a hollow vessel for me to fill. But that’s not what I want."

Her hands rested on your shoulders now, firm but strangely gentle. "What I want," she continued, her lips brushing the shell of your ear, "is for you to choose me, willingly. Because deep down, we both know you already have."

The words hit you like a knife to the chest. She was right. Every action, every choice you’d made up to this moment had been in her favor. You hadn’t fought; you hadn’t resisted.

And she knew it.

"I… I don’t know who I am anymore," you choked out, tears spilling freely now, and you hated the way her touch steadied you, grounding you in the chaos she’d created.

Her lips curved into a smile against your skin, predatory and satisfied. "That’s the first true thing you’ve said all night," she murmured.

Her hands slid from your shoulders to your arms, holding you firmly as she stepped in front of you again. "But you will, little lamb," she promised, her tone softening into something almost tender. "Because I will tell you who you are."

And for the first time, you felt the chains wrap around you—not of her making, but of your own submission.

Her hands never left your arms as she held you firmly in place, her piercing gaze locking you in place as surely as iron shackles. The dim candlelight flickered in the space between you, shadows licking at the edges of the room as if they too were captivated by her presence.

"You've fought so hard to hold onto this idea of innocence," she murmured, her voice as soft as a prayer, yet laced with wickedness. "But innocence is nothing more than ignorance dressed in virtue. And you, my sweet lamb… you crave knowledge. Don’t you?"

"I don’t—" you began, but her fingers moved, brushing down your arms, and the words faltered in your throat. The touch was slow, deliberate—a map being drawn along your skin, one line at a time.

"Shh," she interrupted, her voice almost soothing. "No lies, little one. Not now, not after you've already given me so much."

Her hands found your waist, fingers pressing lightly against the fabric of your habit. She tugged you closer with such ease, you wondered if you had moved yourself. Her breath was warm against your cheek as she leaned in, her lips hovering near your ear.

"Tell me," she whispered, her voice low and intoxicating, "what does it feel like to surrender?"

You shook your head, though it was more a reflex than defiance. "I haven’t—"

"Oh, but you have," she said, her tone firm now, almost chiding. "Every time you step into this room, every moment you stand here shaking under my gaze… every time you look at me like that."

"Like what?" you asked, though you hated the desperate note that crept into your voice.

"Like you’re mine," she answered easily. Her hands slid upward, brushing over your ribs, her fingertips grazing the edges of your vulnerability with surgical precision. "And you are, aren't you?"

"I don’t know," you managed, the tears welling up again as your mind swam with confusion and guilt—and something else, something that simmered low in your stomach and climbed higher every time she touched you.

"Let me make it simple for you," she said, her tone gentler now, like a teacher coaxing a student toward understanding. One hand moved to your chin, tilting your face up so you couldn’t avoid her eyes. "Obedience. Faith. Devotion. That’s what they’ve told you your life is meant for, isn’t it?"

You nodded shakily, unsure why you were even answering.

"Good." Her thumb brushed over your lips, a fleeting touch that left you breathless. "Then let this be your new faith. Me. Let this be your devotion: giving yourself entirely to what you feel, without shame. Let me show you the freedom they would deny you."

Her other hand traced the line of your back, her nails grazing your skin through the thin layers of cloth. The sensation was subtle but electric, sending a shiver down your spine that you couldn’t suppress.

"I don’t want to hurt you," she continued, though her voice carried a weight that made you wonder if that was entirely true. "But if that’s what it takes to strip you bare—of your innocence, your guilt, your denial—then I will."

Her lips brushed yours, featherlight but deliberate, and you froze. The kiss lingered there, her proximity overwhelming, her breath mingling with yours until it felt like there was no air left for either of you.

"You don’t have to fight anymore," she whispered against your lips. "Just say the word, and I’ll give you what you’ve been too afraid to ask for."

And yet, she didn’t move closer. She didn’t take that final step, leaving you in the suffocating limbo she’d created. The decision, cruelly and mercifully, was yours.

Her eyes bore into yours, expectant, unyielding. "Say it, lamb," she commanded softly, her hands now resting just above your hips, firm yet still offering the illusion of gentleness.

"I…" You hesitated, the war raging inside you as tears blurred your vision. Everything about this moment felt like a plunge into something you could never return from—a fall orchestrated solely by her hands.

"Say it," she urged again, her voice growing darker, less patient. Her grip tightened slightly, her fingers digging into your flesh just enough to remind you that she held all the control here.

You closed your eyes, trembling as your lips formed the words you hadn’t realized you’d been waiting to say. "I’m yours."

And as the room fell silent, save for the sound of your uneven breathing, Agatha smiled.

"My sweet lamb," she murmured, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "Now… we begin."

Her lips claimed yours then, not tender or patient, but consuming, pulling you deeper into her grasp as her hands explored every vulnerability she could find. Her touch was both a reward and a punishment, each movement calculated to dismantle what little resistance you had left.

Agatha Harkness was nothing if not thorough.

Agatha’s lips moved with calculated precision, coaxing you deeper into the moment as her hands roamed your body—not rushed, not hurried, but deliberate, every touch a claim that made your skin burn under the weight of her possession.

Her kiss was all-consuming, and in it, you felt the dissolution of everything you thought you knew about yourself. It wasn’t love. It wasn’t affection. It was domination veiled in intimacy, her way of branding you in a way no eyes could see but that you would feel forever.

Her hands slid up your sides, her touch searing through the thin fabric of your habit. She gripped your shoulders with gentle force, breaking the kiss to study your face, her eyes dark and unrelenting.

"Look at me," she commanded, her voice like velvet laced with steel.

You tried to avert your gaze, overwhelmed by the intensity of her stare, but she tilted your chin up, forcing your eyes to meet hers.

"No hiding now, little lamb," she said, her tone soft but laced with warning. "I want you to feel every part of this. Every piece of the girl you were falling away until there’s nothing left but my creation."

Her words sliced through the silence, leaving you vulnerable and exposed. She wasn’t asking for your consent; she’d already claimed it in every moment leading to this. The tension in the room was unbearable, the candlelight throwing long shadows that seemed to stretch toward you like witnesses to your undoing.

Her fingers traced along the neckline of your habit, her touch maddeningly slow as if savoring your trembling beneath her hands. "This," she murmured, brushing the fabric lightly, "is a shroud. A shield you think protects you from the world—and yourself. But all it does is hide who you really are."

She began to undo it, each motion deliberate, giving you ample time to stop her—not that she believed for a second that you would. And you didn’t. You stood frozen, paralyzed by equal parts shame and desire as the heavy fabric slipped from your shoulders, pooling at your feet like an offering.

Agatha stepped back, her eyes dragging over you with an expression that made your stomach twist into knots. It wasn’t hunger in her gaze; it was victory, as if stripping you of your barriers was the real prize she sought.

"Look at you," she whispered, her voice low and almost reverent. "Do you feel it yet? The freedom? The weightlessness of leaving behind the person you were forced to be?"

You wrapped your arms around yourself instinctively, your shame warring with the part of you that longed to be seen by her—truly seen.

"None of that," she said sharply, stepping forward and prying your arms away. "You are mine now, body and soul. You will not hide from me."

Her hands found your waist again, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. Her lips brushed against your ear as she whispered, "This is where you belong. With me. No prayer, no god, no doctrine will ever make you feel this alive."

Your heart hammered in your chest, your breathing uneven as her words sank deep into your mind like hooks. You wanted to argue, to plead for some semblance of salvation, but there was none left—not in this room, not in her grasp.

"I’ll ask you one last time," Agatha said, her voice softening slightly as she pulled back to look into your eyes. "Will you give yourself to me completely? Without hesitation, without shame?"

You swallowed hard, the enormity of her question pressing down on you. She wasn’t asking for a fleeting moment of vulnerability. She wanted everything—every part of you, stripped bare and given over willingly.

Your lips parted, the words hanging on the edge of your breath.

"I will," you whispered, the final crack in the dam holding you together.

Agatha’s smile was dark and all-encompassing, her hands tightening their hold on you. She leaned in, her lips hovering over yours as she murmured, "Good girl."

And then, she took you fully—not gently, not kindly, but with the same measured cruelty that defined her every action. She unraveled you piece by piece, her touch leaving marks on your skin and mind that no prayer could ever erase.

This was her victory, and you knew it. You were hers, entirely and irrevocably.

The room was cloaked in an oppressive stillness. The air felt heavier now, the flickering candlelight casting warped shadows on the stone walls. You sat on the cold floor, your limbs heavy and your mind a hollow, swirling abyss. Agatha remained poised beside you, her presence as dominating as ever, though her silence held a suffocating weight.

"You’re trembling," she murmured, her tone deceptively soft as she reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your sweat-slicked brow. Her fingertips lingered just a moment too long, a constant reminder that nothing about this closeness was accidental.

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Words had abandoned you, slipping from your grasp as thoroughly as your innocence had.

Agatha exhaled slowly, her fingers tipping your chin upward, forcing your eyes to meet hers once more. Her expression was unreadable, her gaze piercing. She searched your face as if savoring the wreckage she’d left behind.

"I expected more fight," she said casually, though the faint curl of a smirk betrayed her satisfaction. "But no… you gave me everything. So easily, so completely."

You swallowed hard, but your voice refused to rise. The fire you once thought would guide you had been extinguished, replaced by something raw and consuming. Shame twisted in your stomach, mingling with the dark thrill that you hated to admit still simmered beneath your skin.

"How does it feel, little lamb?" Agatha asked, her voice a mockery of concern. "Knowing there’s no part of you I don’t own now? No thought, no desire, no boundary that belongs to anyone but me?"

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them away, refusing to give her that final triumph. And yet, the words spilled from your lips before you could stop them.

"I feel… nothing," you whispered hoarsely.

Her smile deepened, a mix of condescension and triumph as she cupped your face in both hands, forcing you to hold her gaze. "Oh, but you will," she purred, her tone laced with an unsettling intimacy. "What you feel now is fear. Emptiness. But that’s what I want. I’ve stripped you down to the core, burned away all those useless pieces of you until there’s nothing left but… potential."

Her hands dropped, and she stood, her towering form casting a long shadow over you as you remained kneeling at her feet. "And now," she continued, her voice taking on a sharper edge, "we begin the process of rebuilding. Of shaping you into exactly what I need. What I want."

She turned, walking leisurely toward the small table in the corner. Your habit lay crumpled nearby, and she picked it up with a slight sneer, letting it dangle from her fingers as though it was a discarded shell.

"This no longer suits you," she remarked, her voice cutting through the silence like a blade. She dropped the fabric back to the floor and gestured toward the remnants of your previous self. "These trappings of piety, of humility—they’re meaningless now, don’t you think?"

You stared at the crumpled garment, your mind struggling to reconcile the life it represented with the one Agatha had forced you into.

When you didn’t answer, she stepped closer, her shoes clicking softly against the stone. Her fingers trailed over your shoulder, down your arm, sending shivers through your exhausted frame. "Speak," she demanded, her voice suddenly sharp enough to make you flinch. "Do not make me ask again."

"They are meaningless," you said quietly, the words like lead on your tongue.

Her smirk returned, and she crouched before you, her face inches from yours. "Good girl," she murmured, brushing her thumb over your cheek. "I knew you’d come to understand. But remember this—what you are now is not a failure. It’s freedom. Every choice from now on is mine to make for you, but it will feel like it’s yours. Do you understand?"

You nodded hesitantly, and her smirk turned into a full, wolfish grin. "Wonderful."

She stood again, but her hand lingered, tangling in your hair for a moment too long. Her grip tightened slightly, enough to send a spike of fear through your chest before she released you.

"You’ve pleased me tonight," Agatha said, turning to face the door, her silhouette regal and unyielding. "But know this—pleasure is earned. And obedience is only the beginning."

She turned back toward you, her gaze pinning you where you knelt. "Clean yourself up," she said, her tone now cold and commanding. "And tomorrow, you will come to me for your next lesson."

With that, she swept from the room, the sound of the heavy wooden door closing behind her echoing in the suffocating silence.

You remained on the floor, trembling in the dim light, the imprint of her words—and her touch—burned into your skin and soul. For the first time in your life, you felt unmoored, untethered to anything but her.

And as you reached for your discarded garments, you realized with a sickening clarity that you no longer wanted to resist.

_-_-_

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