#but eventually he ran out of things to say

[mxnhoo]

taste (y. jw)

✎ yang jungwon x reader synopsis you and Jungwon were drinking together, until you impulsively recommended to play spicy drinking games. he eventually agreed with your idea, and from there on you could discover something that he's been hiding from you and you decide to make it come true. genre drinking together, reader has supposedly bad drinking tolerance but actually lasted the entire way, drinking game, jungwon respects boundaries (as he should) but reader likes to push it, jungwon is shy when getting onto the spicy topics unlike reader who's bold, Hershey's chocolate syrup, teasing, not proofread warnings spicy drinking game/spicy question(s), VERY ALMOST smut (read at your own caution), very suggestive, food related (smudging on areas on the body to clean up), vivid description of licking, hickies word count 1.4k cly's note honestly writing suggestive/almost smut fics are lowkey out of my comfort zone but i wanted to give yall another one after seeing how much support dangerous got. if i wasn't so awkward with this topic, jungwon would've been more bold and confident LOL. don't think i wrote this as well as dangerous but hope yall enjoy this too!

As you finished taking a shot, you immediately gulped down the liquid in an attempt to reduce the effects that the alcohol has on you. You sighed as you felt the burning sensation in your throat, your face tensing up as you slowly felt the sensation disappear. Jungwon chuckled as he held up the alcohol bottle and poured you another shot. As the sensation in your throat fully died off, you quickly cleared your throat, "I'm done".

He gave you an approving hum and smile as he patted your back, knowing that you weren't such a good drinker unlike him. You sat back on your chair, letting your head hang over the edge as you stared into the ceiling. The room was dimly lit up by a warm light, the walls and ceiling looking more of a dark orange.

You could almost tell that feeling in your stomach was coming — y'know, that feeling when you drink a lot of alcohol. Your head was starting to feel light and as your heart starts to race, you suddenly feel like you want to do a lot of things.

"Hey!" you called out, and Jungwon's eyebrows raised, anticipating to what you were going to say next. "Drinking game, let's play," you suggested.

And that was exactly how you got even more wasted. You were panting as you felt your head spin, almost feeling like you were going to pass out. Jungwon laughed as he watched you in your drunken state, folding his arms and relaxing back on his chair, "Are you sure you can continue? I can bring you to bed now if you want".

"No!" you slammed your shot glass down onto the table, determined to prove that you could drink more, even if your boyfriend already knew damn well that you were already pass your limit. "I.. can do thiss," you mumbled, your speech already starting to slur from the alcohol.

"Y'know what?!" you exclaimed, standing up from your chair and slightly startling Jungwon and you looked at him with determined eyes, "Spicy. Let's play spicy".

Jungwon's eyes were slightly widened as he realised what you were asking for. You wanted to play spicy drinking games, and his mind has run wild, the number of things he wants to do being unlimited. His face slightly burns up at the idea and he shook his head.

"I'd love to, but-" "Wonnie!" "You're drunk, Y/N."

You pouted. "So what?!" He ran his fingers throug his hair, feeling slightly agitated. "I don't want to take advantage of that!"

You looked at him with half-lidded eyes, "I don't care. Do it".

He bit his lip, and if you were sober enough, you can physically see him lose control from the way his brows furrow and how he exhaled audibly. He was losing it. He wanted to respect boundaries, and you were tempting him.

He spoke, his voice deep. "Who was your best kiss? Me or yor ex?". You chuckled, your eyelids barely opened as you pointed at him without hesitation. "You, duh". You've slightly sobered up already since all you've been doing is answering his questions honestly, avoiding any shots.

He nodded his head in approval, trying his best to compose yourself until you continued talking. "I fucking love the way your lips ruin me whenever—".

Jungwon, with his reddened ears, covered your mouth which silenced you. You giggled as his mouth prevented you from talking, and you could hear him sigh. Though he agreed to play your spicy "Truth or Drink" game, he still wanted to respect the boundaries, but you were forcing him to push it, his self-control slowly slipping away.

He sighed as he slowly released your mouth, watching you as he slowly leaned back. "It's your turn," he furrowed his eyebrows upwards, feeling slightly shy as to what you might ask him. You've always found him adorable that he was always shy at these topics even when you and him have already done a lot.

You decided to shoot a question, "Do you have any fantasies I don't know about?".

He seemed to ponder for a second, his eyes looking empty and him pursing his lips, and just as soon as he picked up his shot glass and was about to gulp it down, you grabbed his wrist to prevent it from moving.

Your eyes were dark and determined. "What is it?" your tone sounding open, yet demanding. The tension in the air suddenly grew, the silence becoming more unbearable as you two stared into each other's eyes. He grew more nervous, gulping and pursing his lips as you could see him decide if he should tell you or not.

"It's okay, baby," you comforted him, encouraging him to be more open.

"Food" he quicky muttered. "What?" "I said food."

You looked at his face and you could tell his face was completely red, and you knew it wasn't from the alcohol. He bit his lip and furrowed his eyebrows, feeling sheepish that he finally admitted something he'd been hiding.

"What about it?" "The thought of you smearing food on your naked body for me to clean up with my mouth is just.."

His whole face was a bright shade of red and he broke eye contact, afraid to see what kind of facial expression you're making to his confession. You lifted his chin up with your finger, "Let's do it".

There were two differences that were made. One being that you were now shifted into your room from the living room since Jungwon offered to carry you with his trustworthy strength and arms, and second being that you were completely bare. You hugged your legs as the cold air hit your body, waiting for Jungwon to return until you heard the door slowly creak open.

Jungwon appeared, holding the Hershey's syrup bottle you stored in your refrigerator, and at the the bare sight of you, his breath hitched. He gulped as he walked towards you, being conscious of the way you were w him wtching with pedatory gaze.

He gulped as he climbed onto the bed, his knees pressing onto the sheets, staring at you, having a flustered expression take over his facial features. No, this wasn't his first rodeo with you, but it was his first with his most hidden fantasy.

He slowly handed you over the syrup bottle, your fingers brushing his for a moment and without a moment of hesitation, you immediately started to squeeze out the syrup onto different parts of your body — your knees, outer thighs, stomach, collarbone, neck.

His eyes widened as he took in the sight of you being fully covered in syrup. His heart skipped a beat as he took a few seconds to scan your entire body up and down. He licked his lips and he slowly started to climb over you, eyeing the first spot that he wanted to clean up first — your knees.

His tip of his tongue flicked against your knee, the temperature difference between his tongue and your skin making you shiver. His muscle immediately started to clean you up, using various movements such as long strikes or short kitten licks. He quickly cleaned up the syrup on your knee and he started to progress to the other areas such as your outer thigh.

He sucked the skin along the way, leaving light hickies that were bright red. He slowly pushed you down on the bed as he hovered over you, a shadow forming over you, next cleaning up your stomach. You watched how his eyes fluttered close and how he took his own time to clean you up.

"Teasing me aren't you?" he mumbled as he was in the midst of cleaning up your stomach, taking a quick second to look at you. You smirked, knowing exactly what he'd meant. You'd purposefully avoided all the core parts as you wanted to leave it last.

"Be patient, will you?" you shot, enjoying how he whines and just continues.

He'd just finished cleaning up your collarbone and neck, and without taking a break, you immediately started to pour the syrup out to areas where he'd been anticipating to the most. His jaw had dropped at the breath-taking sight of you, almost believing that he was dreaming.

"How about, we start here?" you challenged as you poured the syrup on your lips, his eyes watching the syrup as it lands on your mouth and drips down your chin.

extra note GRHAUDEWFN I FEEL SO SHY THAT I WROTE THIS. OH MY GOD. okay. i hope you guys enjoyed this. I HOPE THIS WASNT TOO CRINGE THIS IS LOWK MY FIRST SMUT FIC. im gunna sleep this away GOODNIGHT.

[zekescherries]

﹒ 2BLEED! ﹔ ft ＃ levi ackerman ﹐ 🍒 ﹒　　 ׅ 　

CONSPECTUS﹕kuchel is determined to face the sun and meet her father, years of the darkness below the underground lefts her with a new purpose.

PAIRING﹕levi ackerman × female!reader ﹒canon verse

CHAPTER(S)﹕next

CONTENT WARNING﹕pregnancy & childbirth, past relationships, dark themes, gore, friends to lovers, original characters, angst w eventual fluff, dad!levi & more as the story progresses

AUTHORS NOTE﹕this is not originally my idea, it’s a continuation of another fanfic that was orphaned. i'm just picking up where the author left off: Noceur (10532 words)

you wipe your tears from your face, leaving your eyes glossed over with sorrow. you don't want kuchel to witness her mother like this. you've always tried to be strong for her, the underground is dangerous, full of surprises and outbreaks of random violence.

nowhere is safe in this hell you call home.

your eyes meet with hers as you both hold eye contact with one another, glassy, sharp, silver irises and the poignant memory of levi stares back at you.

you wonder if levi can see you through her eyes, who pathetic and wretched you look in this very moment.

"please, just come inside. . ." you take kuchel's hand in yours, pulling her closer until her feet cross the threshold.

"i'm. . .so sorry, mama."

"i'm the one who should be apologizing." you persist.

"i've. . .hid things from you because i was afraid of what would come of it; i wanted you to be safe but in reality all i've been doing is lying."

kuchel pauses, her body tenses and she can practically hear her heartbeat roaring in her chest as the pumping quickens. she doesn't say anything, waiting for you to finish.

your eyes gaze up at her, your baby, your first, your one and only child, the person you and levi created in one of your last moments together.

you loved her in the womb and loved her when she came out, the sweetest baby you ever saw.

you love her, you love her enough now to tell her now, don't you?

"levi ackerman." you haven't said his name in so long that your tongue almost ties. slipping the straps from kuchel's body you sit her down at the circular table, bent and twisted, it's old, worn out and dilapidated but you still use it nonetheless; unable to afford another.

". . .levi?" kuchel repeats, as if she's tasting his name on her tongue, a name unfamiliar to her.

"i used to fly around on that thing, with him at my side." you recall.

"we grew up together down here," kuchel can already tell that this story won't end in your favor.

"we ran from all kinds of criminals, we stole, we drank, we. . ." you laugh, a soft yet saddened laugh.

"you get the idea."

"it would catch up, i knew it would; crimes never go unpunished."

kuchel nods, drinking everything in.

"he joined the survey corps, with two of our friends, i haven't seen him since." you put it lightly.

"but, he gave me you."

"he gave me life, happiness and my girl."

kuchel's face goes from shock to sadness, not only for you but for herself. she had never met her father or known his name yet now all this information comes crashing down on her like a load of bricks.

yet that name burns into her brain, levi ackerman

© zekescherries

[purplesharks]

so i posted this on ao3 and ppl on there seemed to like it…. so i thought why not post on tumblr as well :p

pairings: mr scarletella x reader

cw: smut, not proofread, college au, human!scarletella, oral (f), fingering, masturbation

You also definitely didn’t expect him to end up here between your thighs, staring at your dripping arousal with carnal need. He’s staring almost like he’s in disbelief, like he’s been wanting this more than anything.

Biting your plush bottom lip between your teeth, almost on the verge of scolding him for taking so long. Just as you part your lips to speak up the scarlet haired man lifts your legs higher and licks a long, wet stripe between your folds. So slow, as if he’s savoring you.

He looks up at you with amusement at the way your back arches slightly at just his simple ministration.

His mouth continues back to it’s previous task. He starts by lapping at your clit, merely testing the waters, before he abruptly sucks your clit into his mouth and releases it with a wet pop.

He does this a few times more, relishing in the cute whimpers you let out.

His ministrations subtly get more and more desperate before he’s eating you out like a man starved, licking and sucking at your whole clit like he can’t get enough of your taste. He slips a finger inside of your cunt - slow thrusts pumping in and out of you - so contrasting to the way he’s sloppily eating you out.

It doesn’t take long before he’s slipped another finger in, so easily too with the way you’re dripping for him. His fingers eventually catch up to his merciless mouth and your back is arching off the bed. Your poor hands grab at his head, almost wanting him to slow down because it’s just too much.

That of course only spurs him to keep going.

His long fingers fuck into your cunt harder, the lewd wet sounds increasing with his pace. Eventually, he finds that sweet spot inside of you and makes sure to hit it over and over again with the rough pads of his fingers.

You feel the subtle vibration of him lowly moaning before you reach your head to the side out of curiosity. What you see almost makes you come right then and there. He’s got his hand that isn’t working inside of you down his pants and stroking his cock. Just doing this to you is getting him off.

Your legs begin to shake and quiver as your back arches further. You’re close, and he can tell. He only fucks you with his fingers and tongue even harder.

Stars cloud your vision as a loud moan erupts from your throat.

His tongue doesn’t stop even after your orgasm has finished and you have to quite literally push his face off of your cunt.

Fuck…. You don’t remember the last time you even came that hard.

Your study partner only stares at you with wide eyes, almost like he’s not exactly sure what to say.

“S-shit… I don’t think…” You gasp breathlessly. Feels like you just ran a mile.

Your breath only shortens further when you look down to see his…. arousal. Looks like there’s another thing to take care of before you study.

Tonight’s gonna be a long night.

[lunarmothim]

a thing of beauty - kyle garrick x reader

It had always amazed you, how easily you could bring Kyle to his knees, this beautiful man who could've been a model but chose to take down terrorists for a living. A man who killed people at work then came home and looked at you with warm eyes through long, dark lashes you'd always been jealous of like you hung the stars in the sky just for him. He's absolutely breathtaking. Living proof that God has favorites, every inch of him a work of art.

word count: 1.7k tags/warnings: i tried to do some plot what plot? but here we are with some fluffy head instead :D established relationship, oral (m receiving), afab/fem presenting reader (brief mentions of periods)

When you pictured your future as a kid- the kind of life you'd lead, the kind of person you'd marry, grow old with, you never once imagined Kyle.

If anything, Kyle was the antagonist in your otherwise picture-perfect story, the annoying boy next door who ran after you with worms, laughing while you screamed, who shoved handfuls of snow down the back of your coat during snowball fights, who liked to tease you by tugging your hair when he sat behind you in class.

He's just doing it because he likes you, your mum had cooed when you complained to her about him, even well after you'd passed the age where that logic would be something believable. At the time you'd huffed at her in irritation, telling her she didn't know him like you did, that he was mean and would she please just talk to his mum and make him stop?

He did, eventually, when you grew older and chasing you with worms turned into chasing you down the hall, giving you his jacket to tie around your waist when you unexpectedly got your period during history class. When hands shoving snow down your clothes turned into hands awkwardly holding your hips while he kissed you in a closet at Maggie Luwin's fifteenth birthday party, your friends jeering at you through the door until your seven minutes were up. When tugging your hair became pulling your hair, one hand fisted in the strands and the other over your mouth while you both tried not to wake his roommate in a tiny uni dorm room.

No, those were not moments you had ever imagined Kyle being involved in.

And you certainly had never imagined him grinning up at you from one knee in the middle of a Tesco, telling you that you were the only person he could imagine doing something as mundane and domestic as debating over cereal choices with for the rest of his life, so would you please do him the honor of marrying him? No plan, no ring, just that pretty smile of his you'd never thought you'd fall in love with and a promise to do it right, do it better, if you'd only say yes-

Which had brought you here, perched on his lap with the ring he'd picked up on his way home from the airport four months after the proposal on your finger while he presses soft, lazy kisses to your throat, the dinner you'd started for your engagement party forgotten in the slow cooker.

("I'll get you somethin' bigger," he'd promised, down on one knee again with a tired smile.

"Don't you fuckin' dare," you'd replied, dragging him up off the ground to kiss you.)

"So pretty," he sighs against your skin, large palms warm against your back through your shirt. "And all mine. How'd I get so lucky, huh?"

"I'll let you know when I figure it out," you can't help but tease him, soft and breathy, and he chuckles low in his throat, pulling you tighter against him. He's hard beneath you, sliding those warm hands down the velvety fabric of your skirt while his nose nudges gently against your jaw, a silent request to give him better access to your neck. The tilt of your head to the left comes without argument, but with a soft warning. "Kyle, we don't have time for this."

"We can make time," he murmurs, grazing his teeth over your pulse with just enough pressure to make you melt into him, his voice a low rumble against your throat. "They'll understand. Should've celebrated together first, anyway."

"You have the rest of your life to celebrate with me," you try again, but there's no real fight to your words, no move made to stop him from slipping his hands beneath your skirt and up your thighs.

You both know that you'd caved the second he tugged you into his lap.

"Even that's not enough time," he laments, dragging his mouth up in search of yours. You taste the icy edge of a menthol on his breath under the sweet mint gum he'd tried to hide it with, probably bummed from the neighbour despite his promises to quit, but you don't care to chastise him for it right now- not when his fingers, long and impossibly delicate for his line of work, are creeping up your outer thighs to catch on the thin lace of your panties, giving them a playful tug. "C'mon, love, just a little taste."

"'Just a little taste,'" you mock him, retaliating with a nip at his lower lip that has him laughing, tugging the plush flesh between your teeth as you draw back. "Last time you said that you missed drills and John came by for a wellness check."

"Hey now, no need to bring him into this," Kyle responds, tugging at your panties again. "I can be quick-"

"You said that, too. Think we have different definitions of the word, babe."

"Oh yeah? What's yours, then?"

It's the wrong thing to say- or maybe the right thing, if his reaction to the way you shift back along his thighs in response is anything to go by, pupils blowing wide when you drag your nails down the hard planes of his abdomen to the edge of his belt. He inhales, slow and controlled, when you tug his blue button up out of its neat tuck, but his exhale when you trace the shape of his belt buckle with one knuckle is shaky. A shudder melts down his spine, the sweet dark honey of his eyes following every steady movement of your hand.

It had always amazed you, how easily you could bring Kyle to his knees, this beautiful man who could've been a model but chose to take down terrorists for a living. A man who killed people at work then came home and looked at you with warm eyes through long, dark lashes you'd always been jealous of like you hung the stars in the sky just for him. He's absolutely breathtaking. Living proof that God has favorites, every inch of him a work of art.

You look at him sometimes and can't understand how someone like him could want someone like you. But he does, and it leaves you breathless.

The button of his jeans slips out with ease, followed by the rasp of his zipper. He lifts his hips to help you work the dark denim down his thighs until you can pull his cock free, trailing your fingers up the length of him. He moans soft and low at the touch, the whisper of your thumb grazing over the head.

Dark eyes, wide black circles ringed with honey, find yours when you slowly raise your thumb to press it into your mouth, the tip salty with his precum.

"Christ, love," Kyle groans, sucking in a harsh breath when you slide down out of his lap, settling on the floor between his knees. "Thought you said we didn't have time?"

"Oh, now you care?" you tease him, looking up at him through your lashes. His hips jerk when your hand circle the base of him, those pretty eyes half-lidded and hazy, the column of his throat stretching taut when his head tips against the back of the couch. Beautiful. You tell him as much, murmuring it against his knee and feeling him pulse beneath your hand.

You whisper it again if only to hear the soft noise he makes in response, something like a purr rumbling in his chest. His fingertips brush over your cheeks, gently caress your jaw, catch under the edge of the bone and press in to guide you forward.

"Fuck," he sighs, hands sliding back to gather your hair at the nape of your neck, out of your face, when you take him into your mouth, salt-slick and heavy against your tongue. His thumbs sweep over your hollowed out cheeks, groaning again when you hum softly in thanks. He already sounds utterly wrecked, raw and undone and you haven't even done anything yet. "Fuck, love. Look so pretty with your mouth on my cock."

God, he even sounds pretty, letting out the most delicious little whimper when you reward his praise by throating him to the base.

The tick of his watch by your ear reminds you of your purpose here, your demonstration of the word quick. Five minutes from start to finish is your record, a skill he'd learned you had in a cramped supply closet on base one day when you'd brought him lunch, your mouth wrapped around him damn near dropping him to the floor.

Bracing one hand against his thigh, you reach up with the other until you feel the stretch of his throat beneath your palm. The tip of his tongue swipes over the pad of your finger when you hook it into his mouth, using the leverage to pull his head down until he meets your eyes.

He's gone, mouth falling open in a deep moan that has you squeezing your thighs together, the anchor of his hand against the back of your head becoming a steady hold as he bucks up into your mouth. Neatly trimmed, wiry curls scratch at your nose as he spills hot and thick down your throat, fingers flexing against your skull in a stuttered clench-and-release until he goes still, breathing hard.

You draw away slowly, hollowing your cheeks as you drag back up his length. You think he might shove you right back down when you swirl your tongue around the head, lapping up every last drop of his release, but his hand falls slack to his side instead, squeezing against the couch cushion.

"That wasn't fair," he wheezes around your finger still in his mouth, biting down gently just above the metal of your ring. "Gonna be the death of me."

"Not yet," you tease, squeezing his thigh and using it to push up to your feet, withdrawing your finger as you lean in to kiss him. You can almost feel his smile when you drag your lips up to his ear, nipping at the lobe. "But maybe when our guests leave."

mdni banner by @/cafekitsune line divider by @/gildui

please like/reblog if you enjoyed! :)

[icarusredwings]

Just had a dream where wilson developed a diaorder where whrn ever he got too scared he would just bolt and in the dream one of his ex wives beat him and she came around looking for her "deadbeat husband" and he got so scared that he just left, he dosn't know where hes going but he starts Hallucinating her when someone sounds like her or vaughly looks like her. And he wont stop either until he finds a safe place to hide. So the onw time he just straight up ran to the hospital and turns out he was talking to a hallucination of a nurse who was telling him to calm down. Said ex wife says its bullahit and he should get over it. It gets so bad that they admit wilson to the hosoital and he gets so scared somwtimes that he rips out his IVs And just.. goes. Sonetimes he ends uo at the beach. Sometimes hes in traffic. Its like a scared animal. But he keeps ending up in House's office and eventually Hiuse kills his ex wife and makes wilson move in with him. Putting locks on all the entrances, dosing him with downers and sleep pills, just overall trying to get him out of this state of hysteria. He hides in the corner and cries how sorry he is, that he "didnt do anything bad" and at one point he thinks house is a hullicination too because he willingly climbs into bed wtih him, puts like 3 pillows by his leg and just.. holds him. Grounds him. He became an issue with the police too because obviously some guy running in traffic isn't a good thing and house constantly is yelling at people to leave him alone, "youre just scaring him more!"

House tells cuddy that he has "Golden butterfly disorder" and when she tells him he made that up he said "No not technecally" and said something about golden butterflys do anything to "stop percieving" their danger. Cuddy rolled his eyes at him and said "So he's running away."

This actually intrestsed me but when I look up golden butterflys and their senses to "stop perceiving" their enemies google just says

"While butterflies don't "stop seeing" in the sense of losing vision when scared, they can exhibit behaviors that appear like they are avoiding sight due to perceived danger, such as quickly flying away or hiding when startled"

And so I was wondering where the golden part came from and apparently is a cold case in L.A. noire? Im not sure if this has much significance. Let me know because ive never heard of it.

Anyway..

My brain is dreaming whole ass drama fics. Anyway, this is lowkey just that one episode where House tries to help but ends up making it worse and somehow avoids going to prison again because of plot armor.

[emeraldsfanfics]

You Make My Heart Race

○A Rise!Donnie x speedster!fem!reader oneshot Romantic○

Reader based on CW Barry Allen/Flash

S/n= superhero name

Warnings: ●Flustered Donnie● ●reader is flirty●

Donnie had never been one for emotions, ESPIACALLY ones to do with positive...egh...feelings. Always being isolated, most times, days at a time in his lab. Just him and his inventions, how he was satisfied with.

During patrol or battles he can be his chaotic and mischievous self. That's where he also felt like himself.

"DONNIE!" Raph barged into Donnie's lab.

"SWEET BANANA WAFFLES!" Donnie jumped like a cat in surprise. Gripping onto his chair, "What the heck Raph, annoyed sigh, I was working on very important upgrades to the bo."

"Sorry Don, but we have to go ASAP, Mikey saw some trucks loading the goo, it's a big mama operation." Raph explained, now both on their way to the crime with Leo and Mikey with them.

Donatello did not verbally respond, only rolling his eyes on response. He did guess he could go lethal on the henchmen. Eventually meeting Leo , Mikey and April on top of a rooftop.

"So we should go in, kick their butt's and give the goo thing to Donnie." Leo told everyone.

"And have a movie marathon later." Mikey smiled.

"Oh! Maybe we should-" April started but was interrupted by Raph.

"But we need a actual PLAN." Raph said.

"Boy you did not just interrupt me." April narrowed her eyes.

"Sorry April." Raph scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment.

"We have to catch them in surprise, y'know, actually be-" April was cut off yet again. (Poor girlie 😭)

"Amazing got that!" Leo jumped off the roof.

"Kalbanga!" Mikey followed.

"Raphs got this!" Raph said next.

"Yay for violence!" Donnie exclaimed unenthusiasticlly, flying down.

Landing, Donnie seen April, Raph, Leo and Mickey were standing in awe, "Oh my gosh it's s/n! Oh I gotta get a picture." All of them pulling out their phone, "no a video!"

Donnie raised his eyebrow, "And who is this, s/n?"

"Don, have you seriously been in that lab for too long?" April chuckled, holding the phone.

"Another annoyed sigh, this person can't be that important-" He took one look at this s/n. Faster than the speed of light, seeing lightning as they were being beaten and tied up.

All tied up in a pretty bow, with your signature color. The goo gathered in a safe group. You turn to see them, a goo canister on your hand, wink at Donnie, who didn't even know he was staring. Leaving in a blink of an eye.

"THAT WAS SO COOL!" The brothers all cheered. Also shaking Donnie, who was still blushing, eyes blanked.

Back at the lair, everyone was still talking about what had just happened.

"SHE IS ALMOST AS COOL AS ME!" Leo almost fanboyed.

"Did you see how quick she was!" Raph said excitedly.

"Like it was nothing to her! Mikey added, "imagine how cool it would be to have her fight alongside us. Don, what do you think about s/n?"

"Yes, she would be quite productive." Donnie muttered. Your e/c eyes, staring right back at him, shining. Your smile made it's way in the turtles mind.

"Productive? That's it?" April said, figuring he would say something at least criticizing the hero.

"Oh look at the time, see you later dumb dumbs!" Donnie ran to his lab. Everyone raising a questioning eyebrow.

"Well...that was weird?" Leo broke the silence. As always.

"Yeah." April said, getting up to leave the lair.

"Wanna see who can balance the most things on their shell?" Mikey asked.

"YEAH!" They all exclaim, running off.

Meanwhile, with Donnie, he was researching everything he could about this so called, s/n. You. For scientific research, of course. Seems you are pretty mysterious, only flashes of you were caught on camera.

However, there were picures of you with citizens, seemed like you were most concerned about them. Reports were always more about trying to figure out your secret identity. News articles, blogs, influencers, the police force. Everyone wanted to know who is behind the mask.

Next thing you know he was staying up for hours trying to find out what exactly are you. A human? Mutant? Alien? Definitely not HUMAN, but you did look human.

A pretty one-

You can say he was looking foward to seeing you again. Blushing at the thought.

Happening sooner than he thought. The turtles were out on patrol, April not being able to make it, apparently her friend Y/n had something to show her. Who she had never mentioned before.

There she was. The beautiful speedster, right there, fighting a giant lizard mutant. Fascinating, he thought to himself.

"DON STOP WITH THE GOOGLY EYES AND HELP US!" Raph instructed, everyone going into action.

"I'M NOT MAKING GOOGLY EYES!" Donnie angrily replied.

You already hid April somewhere safe, before telling your best friend that you're s/n. Not before they figured out your location and attacked you. Quickly getting into your suit with a ring you invented.

The lizard wacked you towards a wall, that would've happened if not for a turtle in purple? He stood there frozen with dilated eyes and his face red. Making eye contact.

"Uhh thanks Mr...?" You ask, getting down.

He cleared his throat, "R-right-" He was so confused, he NEVER stuttered before, "I'm Donnie."

"S/n." You smirked, "see you over there Pretty Boy." leaving extremely fast. Leaving Donnie with a racing heart. 'Wow.' He thought.

Seeing turtles fighting and talking wasn't the weirdest thing you've seen after all. Besides, he was cute.

You feel the electricity course through your veins, picking up the speed. Raph had started doing hand to hand punches with the lizard, while Leo had been doing portals to confused it. Mikey had just been wacking it with his nunchucks.

After the lizard had threw all three of them off of him. But the turtles wouldn't give up. This is when Donnie gotten his bo out, "Time to go lethal." He laughed like a manic. "Now I can play." Bro just went full on attacking the lizard with a chainsaw on fire. If only he had uranium.

Raph and Mikey had to stop him from going fully lethal on it. Which only took 20 minutes, you just sat there and watched. Waiting for your turn, just because your fast doesn't mean you aren't patient.

Growing tired with a yawn, this is when you felt that electrical feeling again, rushing towards the lizard as it was going towards Leo, kicking it squard in the jaw with electricity.

"Nailed it!" Leo exclaimed, turning to you, "Leo, By the way."

"Names-"

"I'M MIKEY PLEASE SIGN MY.SHELL!" Mikey said excitedly.

"Um sure just-" You said, leaving and coming back with a pen on two seconds. Signing his shell.

"Sorry for my brother's, thanks for the help s/n." Raph apologized.

April came back running, "I see you met my friend." She said smugly.

"Oh! These are the brothers you were talking about." You said in realization.

'Wait she knows about me?!' Donnie slightly panicked mentally.

"Yes! This is Raph, Leo, Mikey and Donnie." She pointed at Donnie, "We should all meet sometime." April added.

"Yall were cool out there." You smiled, "but atlas, I must depart, yknow, life as a superhero..."

They all frown but say their goodbyes nonetheless.

You look over at Donnie, "Bye Pretty Boy." You winked again before running off.

What you didn't see is Donnie's confidence melting, freezing and burnt face. Pupils dilated again, stopping his little tail from wagging.

All of the brothers, including April were beyond shocked. Their Donnie would have cringed or say something sassy as a comeback. But no, he stood there in a lovesick mess.

"DONNIE HAS A CRUSHHH!" Mikey poked his arm.

"MY BABY BROTHER HAS THE HOTS FOR THE SUPERHERO!" Raph said excitedly.

"MY BROTHER IS GROWN!" Leo wiped a fake tear.

"I SHIP IT!" April exclaimed. Now she is definitely going to set you two up.

Donnie had finallysnapled out of his trance, "Angred grunt, I don't do "crushes" not for me. Now will you excuse me, I shall be on my way." He said, going on his phone only for everyone to see the videos on you on his screen.

"No crushes he said." Leo snickered.

[malk1ns]

december 17 vs kings, 3-2 OT win

these idiots. and then they watch it back after??? perverts.

previous soulbond installments: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

Sid isn’t scoring goals.

That’s nothing new; he’s gone through slumps his entire career, just like everyone else. He knows what to do to work his way out of them, can practically recite Sully’s speech word-for-word at this point: simplify, don’t force a pass, eyes on the net and stick on the ice and the puck will start going in again.

The last time his scoring woes were this closely scrutinized, though, was almost a decade ago. And honestly, considering who’s watching him now, Sid thinks he’d prefer another round of headlines questioning if maybe he’s a washed-up one-hit-wonder after all.

The bond specialists won’t leave.

Sid’s not going to pretend that he knows more about the science or biology or whatever it is behind bonds than people who study them for a living, but he does think that living with a bond should maybe give him a little more authority than he and Geno are currently being granted.

The specialists seem convinced that their matching lulls in production are because they’re spending too much time together on-ice, and the sharp dive after they were separated on the power play will regress to the mean eventually, once the bond accepts the distance.

The two separate units are performing just fine, that’s not the problem. But Sid’s not seeing an improvement in either his or Geno’s play, and Geno’s just as out of sorts about it.

The holiday break, and with it a few days away from the rink and the watchful eyes of the entire Penguins athletic training staff, can’t come soon enough.

Sid’s unease over the added scrutiny is bleeding into the bond, too. It’s making them both clumsy on the ice, and it’s coming to a forefront during the Kings game. Geno clutches up on his stick on his shifts, passing when he should shoot and shooting when he should pass. Sid loses track of his wingers and sends the puck hurling over to the other team so many times in the first period that he switches sticks partway through.

It comes to a head when they’re caught out on the ice at the same time during a shift change. Sid always knows where Geno is now, that’s no different, but he doesn’t want to give the specialists an excuse to say that the proximity is negatively impacting their play, so he directs all his energy onto the puck until they can change lines. He can feel Geno doing the same, pulling back from the bond until the echoing chasm between them is loud in Sid’s head, louder than the crowd and the sounds of the game.

He maybe should have predicted that would backfire, which it does in spectacular fashion when Geno crashes into him and sends him sprawling to the ice.

Fuck, reverberates through the bond as Sid lumbers back to his feet, Geno wincing at him and just barely stopping himself from reaching up to touch his own mouth in echoed pain.

Sid can practically hear the specialists up in the press box taking furious notes as he skates to the bench to get checked out.

He knows why they ran into each other. They’re trying so hard to prove that the bond isn’t an issue that it’s having the opposite effect; all that effort spent on trying to ignore it keeps it front of mind.

But after the game, when he tries to argue that point, tries to explain that if they just did what felt natural to them things would improve, he and Geno are both overruled. The fact that Geno got himself a goal, as ugly as it was, only gives the specialists more proof for their point.

Science says that distance is better, no matter what Sid’s experiences out on the ice are saying.

He and Geno exchange uneasy glances as they walk out of the trainer’s room.

[lemongrasstea1677]

TKDB BOYS with A Zombieland Saga Zombie!Reader

Pt. 1 here

Summary: In that train, You are already dead before you were cursed as so it has no effect and when you woke up and things happened you explained you're a zombie! how would the boys react to that?

warning: a bit gory on Kaito's part (dw it's not him) reader/viewer discretion is advised

Leo, Towa, Ren, Kaito,

||•||

Leo Kurosagi:

He's disgusted when he found out, like ugh seriously you can't be just an npc you have to be a necromanced inducing corpse now? he have to record this.

when he playfully mocked asked you how come you look human and doesn't smell like the decay of human remains you simply answered him that you are wearing makeup and he immediately placed his hands on your chin and tries to smudge it off your face, he then grinned while saying "gross~" and then taking a picture of your half exposed stitched face with makeup smudged off

he made it a task in your life to remind you that you are dead too "Why are you speaking? this is for living people only go find yourself a corner" although somehow his disgust of you grew into fascination, he can push you around, up and down literally without you physically breaking any of your bones and he does.

he pulls you everywhere to his shenanigans and one time he legit just borrowed your hand to spy on Tohma and Alan after it he contemplated selling your hand to Romeo but he decides against it and instead and hold it over your head as that he can also use it as a way to keep you at his side at all times

oh how would love to see your reaction to that

||•||

Towa Otonashi:

Towa didn't mind you being a zombie at all! you're still the same beautiful dandelion to him, and he likes you as much as how he likes Haru!

but although one time at sunset, when you're helping at Jabberwock the same fox that bit Haru approached you again and this time it's fangs fully punctured your skin and biting hard to your flesh, you didn't bleed but you did flinch at the sudden attack and then...

BAM!

A lightning struck you after you fully pry away the little creature from your body, it ran away in surprise when Towa ran to your side as worrying mumbles fell from his mouth, his eyes full of guilt as he observes you when he noticed you didn't show any injuries and instead you glowed like a fluorescent light in the clouded scenery

when you called out his name, he was absolutely stunned in the way your voice reacted, it sounded autotuned and mecha like Haru's gadgets voice

He pulled you to the dorm to show you off to Haru and Wolfsbane, least to say is that there was a brief moment of shriek in the house of Jabberwock

||•||

Ren Shiranami:

"So like... don't you eat brains or something?" that's the first thing he asked the first time you met each other in the diner, that's when you realized he has no filter at all so when you answer "no" and he put it together as "logically possible, somehow maybe, but in an ethical modern socially acceptable choice: definitely no."

He loves showing you horror movies that contains gory zombie eating anything that is alive scenes and even if you kept saying "no" he will still smugly asks "will you do that someday to us as well?" as if he's actually wishing for it

somehow he kinda likes the mystery of your existence like what if you're actually made by a mad scientist trying to take over the world, or you're actually an infectious being sent out to bite people to turn them like y--

eventually you got fed up with him and his crazy theories and flat out ignore him when tries to message you for raids, he later on says sorry(not) by making you a brain themed parfait at the diner.

||•||

Kaito Fuji:

He likes you like that before he discovered you're a zombie, when he does he's immediately scared of you as if you're going to eat him.

when you reassured him at opening ceremony that you function like a normal human being it lessened the fear but it's still there and you're a bit heartbroken at his fear, when he notices your saddened state he does try to cheer you up and include himself together with you and Luca as he still like you a bit like that but just don't eat him please

During your first mission you jumped in front to protect him and Luca that you immediately got caught in the anomaly's heavy hand and was thrown down the million steps stairs as he can hear the sound of your bones clashing with your flesh as you rolled down the steps, he screamed in terror when your body finally hit the carpeted ground with your all twisted limbs

distracted he is, the anomaly tries to struck him too but you already made an opening for Luca to attack it, Kaito immediately ran down to you and pulled you up while repeatingly mumbling "oh gross gross gross gross...BUT WE HAVE TO GET OUT OF HERE!!" when you properly stood up you realized Luca was struggling so in a panic you remove your head from your torso and threw it at the anomaly hitting it at it's vital point as it shrieked in agony before Luca struck him with the final blow.

after that whole ordeal, Kaito treated you the same before he even discovered you're a zombie, it's a good thing he realizes that the only difference of him and you now is that you got resurrected, what about it? means you're still alive and he... still have chance with you don't he?

even if you're a zombie, he doesn't mind being your knight in shining armor still

||•||

a/n: you cannot make me let go of asshole yandere!Leo, this is his canon now you can't tell me otherwise

[jasonsbruce]

[arolesbianism]

I caved and made them real. Obverse me losing more and more motivation to draw as I made each of these back to back lol

[dairyfreenugget]

I could count the amount of original stories of mine that don't have horror elements on one hand and idk what that says about me

[thewhizzyhead]

being a busy ass student with student journalism gigs on one hand and comm academic shit on the other is very interesting because with the jam-packed life I live I only really get to breathe at like late lAAATE night when no one can bother me about my responsibilities other than myself. that being said that's also when creative brain goes into overdrive and now misfits finally has the final draft of its opening number woo

[tommygotwrittenoff]

i need eddie to get another guy friend in season 8, and buck loses his shit about it (again), so he breaks up with t because he's convinced that the weird feeling he gets when he sees them together is because he is Really attracted to the new guy.

[moth-mart]

Outlaw status reachieveeed 🎉🎉🎉

[sluttysnowangel666]

His Second Wife - cregan stark x reader (request)

summary: two years following the death of cregan’s first wife, he accepts an undesired marriage proposal to rhaenyra targaryen’s daughter. rhaenyra’s daughter, who had loved cregan the moment she first met him as a young girl, immediately loves and accepts cregan’s first child as her own. yet it is still not enough for cregan to find his own love for his new wife.

cw: mean cregan😓, widow!cregan, targ!reader, loss of virginity(reader), rhaenyra’s daughter, angst to fluff, unrequited love, sex, happy ending

do yall notice i always post a long ass story usually around midnight or later ( i’m unwell)also this is long af soz it was a detailed request and I wanted it to be to a T. this is SOO long. i prolly should have done two parts… oh well @lillithsalvatore hope you enjoy it love ❤️

“How do you feel, my love?” Your mother asked, placing a warm and comforting hand on yours.

You sighed. “Nervous.”

She gave you that warm and sweet smile of hers. “I know. I hope you know this choice was not easy for me to make, as I know this was a hard task for me to place upon you.”

“I know, mother.” You say with forgiveness, giving her hand a squeeze.

“Had it been any other lord I would have surely declined but… Starks are the most honorable among men. I know your union will be blessed by the gods.”

You give her a smile, blindly trusting her words. You had met him once, and you knew he was kind. In fact, he had left a paw shaped imprint on your heart. You thought to yourself no union could be more suitable. You knew he had married once before out of a prior marital alliance, but the marriage had been short lived, lasting only a year before his first wife died in her birthing chambers.

It took more than four moons before you arrived at Winterfell, as if every power in the world was set on preventing it. You were not a superstitious person, so you simply thought all the bad things that happened prior to your marriage was coincidence.

Each time you went to leave, something prevented you. Your mother miscarried your baby sister, Lucerys was killed by Aemond, Daemon went silent at Harrenhall, Rhaena ran away and was lost in the eyrie before revealing she claimed Sheep-stealer.

You arrived in the dead of winter, and the journey had not been kind to you. You got a chill on the way up, causing you to stop at an inn for a few nights, you had came across raiders who killed one of the many men escorting you, and your clothes were ill suited for the weather.

You did eventually arrive at Winterfell thankfully, all in one piece.

You stepped out of the carriage cautiously, eyeing the snowy landscape surrounding you. It went as far as the eye could see. You held your hand out, letting the thick snowflakes fall and melt in your hand.

“My princess.” You turn to see Cregan, walking towards you. He bows, forcing a politeness. “Winterfell is yours.”

You bow in return, “No need for such formalities, Lord Stark. This is your home, and I am honored to have you welcome me here.”

He nods, choosing to say nothing else to you.

“Please show the princess to her chambers.” He says to one of the servants, then immediately turning on his heels to leave. Your jaw falls slightly, surprised at his curt demeanor.

You compose yourself, trying to hide the slight hurt in your features before making your way to your private chambers.

You bathed immediately, welcoming the hot water against your skin. No water could be hot enough for your dragon blood, but what they had drawn up for you would do nicely.

Your wedding was a week after your arrival, the lord having given you time to settle in. You had not seen him much during that week so you chose not to bother him, assuming he was busy with duties.

When you walked down that snowy path to the red weirwood, Cregan stole a glance at you. You looked beautiful, and he felt horribly guilty for thinking it. He felt like what he was doing was betraying her.

You said your vows, swearing your love before the old gods. You smiled at Cregan and he gave you a forced one in return. Guilt wracked his whole body. He felt guilty for you, knowing he wouldn’t be able to give you a union where you were loved, he felt guilty for liking your smile, he felt guilty for forgetting hers.

There was a feast following the ceremony, nothing large due to the pains of winter, but it didn’t bother you. The small gathering felt intimate, compared to southern weddings where lords and ladies travelled from all over the realm to witness it.

It was here you met Cregan’s son, Rickon.

“Hi, little one.” You said. He was only two, a fat little babe who looked just like Cregan.

“Rickon, this is my new wife.” Cregan said. The way he worded it made you twitch, it had sounded so strained. He didn’t even use your name. You told the boy the name he could call you, but he said nothing as he hid behind his father’s leg.

“I apologize.” Cregan said, his voice showing no sign that he actually was sorry.

“It is alright, my lord. He is just a babe. He and I will have time to get to know each other.” You said. Cregan tensed up, suddenly remembering again this union was forever.

“Excuse me, princess.” He said, turning and walking away with Rickon. Your heart sunk a bit. You could start to sense it now, Cregan was not in the slightest invested in your union together. You felt lost, out of place suddenly.

You sat back down at the high table, overwhelmed with nervousness. You bit at your nails and the skin around them, biting until they bled. You missed your mother dearly. Being here, in this room among strangers who didn’t care much for southerners to begin with, made you feel small.

You had sat there for an hour or two, not moving or eating once, save for your cuticles.

Cregan came to you, not noticing your nervous state. If he had noticed, he chose to ignore it. “I’ve put Rickon down… Would you please accompany me to my chambers?”

You looked at him, the nail bed of your thumb resting between your teeth. You nodded, standing and staring at the hall one last time. You locked eyes with a man, who noticed you both about to take your leave.

“Is it time for the bedding ceremony, Lord Stark?” The man asked, erupting a few cheers from the men mostly.

“No!” Cregan nearly barked the order. “There will be no bedding ceremony.”

The men in the crowd shuffled awkwardly at his outburst but accepted.

“Princess.” Cregan said, walking away and not waiting to see if you were following.

You did anyway, struggling to keep up with his quick pace. You had the sense he wanted this to be over with quickly.

He held the door as you both entered his chambers. You took in your surroundings. It was a clean and large kept room with a lit hearth and a large bed. A thought passed your mind, even though you tried to push it down.

Did he share these chambers with her?

Cregan began to take off his armor and furs, again not watching to see if you did the same, only assuming you were. If you weren’t, he didn’t care.

“Um, could you help, my lord?” You asked, referring to the laces of your white wedding dress.

He sighed, walking over to you as you turned your back to him. Your eyes welled with tears, but you tried to hide it.

His hands were gentle with the laces, not tugging at them as you expected him to. He obviously had experience doing this before.

He grew emotional as he undid your dress, but he hid it well. It was a weird sense of deja vu. Your hair looked like hers from the back and he felt like he was back at his first wedding.

You pushed the dress off, revealing the sheer linen soft dress underneath. He hadn’t moved from behind you, trying to maintain his composure. You walked away from him, lying on the bed and biting your nails again.

He finished disrobing besides his briefs, and you stole a glance at his back. It was huge, muscular and scarred.

He walked over to the bed, getting between your legs and pushing up your shift.

“Is this alright with you, princess?” He asks. “We need not consummate this if you are not ready.”

For the first time it seemed like he kinda cared about how you felt. His hand still had a hold of your shift, which was resting on your pelvic bone.

You nodded, “Is it alright with you, Lord Stark?”

He nodded, pushing your shift up the rest of the way to reveal your chest. He wanted to fall on his sword for the way he kept stealing glances at your breasts.

He pushed his briefs down, and you choked on your breath at the reveal of his length.

“Oh, gods.” You mumbled under your breath.

He rubbed himself against your slit, and your heart stilled for a minute. The feeling was foreign and intense.

He gently grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand away from your mouth. You hadn’t even realized you were still doing it, it was starting to become like breathing. A natural, unintentional habit.

Your hands fell to his biceps to steady yourself. You looked at him, but he did not meet your gaze. He instead bowed his head, watching himself enter inside you.

You dug your nails into his arm, gasping in shock. He gently shushed you, telling you it was okay.

“Please, please.” You said, not knowing what you were even pleading for.

“What?” He asked gently, his voice low and almost mimicking of your whining. It sent a shiver up your spine.

He was slow and gentle with you, not in it for any pleasure himself.

You touched his chest and his hair and his arms, and while he didn’t stop you he made no effort to touch you himself. His hands rested beside your head, holding up his weight.

Your hands found his arms again and you moaned softly, feeling your peak building in your stomach. You closed your eyes and pressed your forehead to his head, moaning as you spilled onto him. He closed his eyes as he felt it, and guilt wracked him again.

He gently pulled out of you and stood up, immediately dressing himself into his nightwear. You pushed your shift back down and pulled the linen covers over you, immediately going back to biting your nails at his reaction.

He laid beside you, not facing you and not saying anything.

You said nothing, but it hadn’t gone unnoticed how he intentionally avoided spilling himself into you.

———

It had been 3 months since your arrival to Winterfell, and you had adjusted as well as you could given the circumstances.

You did not often see your lord husband, but you were used to it. He spent a lot of his free time in the crypt where she was. It hurt, but you gave him his peace and he appreciated that you didn’t hover.

“Mummy!”

“Sh, sh, love.” You say as Rickon runs into your chambers.

Cregan did not like when Rickon called you his mother. He’d gotten upset with you a few times over it, and you assured him you would correct Rickon when it happened.

“Mummy.” He repeated. You giggled. pulling him into your lap. You shook your head and tapped his nose, saying, “Nooo. Not mummy.”

“Mummy.” He laughed, and you ran your fingers through his thick brown curls.

“What ever will we do with this mop on your head, my son?”

“He is not your son.” You turned to see Cregan standing in the door way. “And his hair is fine.”

“Apologies, my lord.” You said, curtly. He ignored your attitude.

“Come, Rickon.” He said, beckoning his son.

“No, mummy.” Rickon whined, holding you.

“Go see papa.” You told him, and with your blessing Rickon ran to Cregan.

Cregan gave you a cold stare as he left, and you returned the favor.

You were growing ever so agitated with your husband. He had welcomed you into Winterfell, but not his heart. The only time you both had shared a bed was the night of your wedding, to which Cregan had made sure not to give you an heir.

You had no one. Rickon had you, Cregan had you even if he did not want you, yet you were alone here in Winterfell.

You decided to write to your mother on Dragonstone, requesting for Jacaerys to pick you up on dragon back so you could visit your family and hopefully receive advice. You had left your dragon, Silverwing, at home. You did not want to disrespect the already hesitant northern people, and you did not want Silverwing to be cold or hungry.

That night when you were brushing your hair before bed, there was a knock on your door.

“Come in.” You looked in the mirror and saw Cregan’s half sister, Sara, enter.

“Hi, Sara.” You said. She came up behind you, taking the brush from your hand and slowly combing it through your hair. You two had formed a unique bond, given you were both considered outcasts in Winterfell. You were a southerner, she was a bastard. They were two sides of the same coin here in Winterfell.

“I heard what happened today.” She said, and you hummed mindlessly. “My brother can be a bastard.”

You smiled at her in the mirror. “Is that so?”

She nods. “I wish I knew what to do, Sara.”

“We northerners love hard, princess. We are unwaveringly loyal. The wound of losing Aly is still fresh in my brother’s heart. Give him time. He knows you love Rickon, and that scares him. I don’t know why.”

“Was Aly pretty?” You ask.

“You have a southern beauty we do not see often in the North. Aly was not a beautiful woman, but she was a fierce fighter. That is how history will remember her. She was born fighting, and she died fighting. I know you are a fierce fighter as well, princess. You are the blood of the dragon. Do not let the grief my brother holds make you feel small.” She kisses the back of your head. “Throw a fucking book at his head if he acts like that again.”

You laugh, her joke comforting you. She turns and leaves you alone, your head clouded with thoughts of Aly.

You heard back from Jacaerys within a few days that he would arrive shortly to bring you home. You had not yet told Cregan, as you knew he wouldn’t care anyway.

A few days following the letter from the raven, it was Sara’s name day. Cregan had decided to celebrate with a feast, one bigger than your wedding.

You all sat at the high table, your husband and sister in law drinking heavily. Although Cregan was a big man, the amount of ale he consumed that night seemed enough to kill a horse.

“My princess.” A servant rested her hand on your shoulder. You and Cregan both turned to look at her, and she grew nervous, not expecting Cregan to pay any attention or perhaps she would not have asked the princess the request. “Rickon has had a nightmare and wants no comfort of the maids. He is requesting you by name specifically, princess.”

You turn to look at Cregan for his approval. He gives a quick nod, which you hadn’t expected. Perhaps he only obliged since Rickon had requested you by your name, rather than requesting his “mother.”

You walked with the maid to his chambers, opening the door.

“Mummy.” He said through sniffles. You turned to face the maid.

“I thought he requested me by my name.” You said.

“That is your name, princess… to him.” The maid closed the door.

You turn to face Rickon with a gentle sigh. “You know papa doesn’t like that word.”

“Mummy.” He just says again. You walk to his bed, fitting yourself in to lay with him. He cuddles into your chest, and you play with his hair to help him sleep.

“Say it okay.” He says.

“Hm? What do you mean, child?” You ask.

“She say it okay to call you mummy.”

“Who?”

“Mummy did.”

“No, you have to call me my name, sweet boy.”

“Not you, mummy. My other mummy said it okay.”

“You confuse me, Rickon.”

“Mummy says ignore papa.” You chuckle softly.

“Sleep now, my love.” You say, and he slowly falls asleep while you hum him a soft song.

You rise, tucking him in and giving his head a kiss.

You open his door to return to the feast, and Cregan is there waiting.

You gasp, covering your mouth quickly to not wake Rickon.

“Gods, you scared me!” You whisper/yell at him. He says nothing, his eyes in a glossy and drunken haze.

You close the door, nearly standing chest to chest with him.

“I heard you sing to him.” He says softly. “Where did you learn that song?”

“He taught me it.” You say, as you go to step past him when he stops you.

“Cregan?” You say confused, turning to look up at him.

He takes your cheeks in your hands and slams his lips on yours. You freeze for a second in shock, before immediately returning the kiss. He presses you against the door, and you moan into him as you quickly grow wet with Cregan’s sudden change of behavior.

He moves to press gentle kisses on your neck, biting softly here and there. His fingers dig into your hips, grinding himself into you. You moan softly, trying not to cause too much noise against the door.

“Not here.” You moan. He avoids your eyes, taking your hand and pulling you further down the hall to his chambers. It was only your second time in his room. He lifted you into his strong arms, wrapping your legs around his waist and pressing you against the wall.

You both hadn’t even undressed, but you loved the thrill. Your husband finally wanted you after three long grueling months. He pushed your dress up to your waist as you unlaced his breeches.

He took you there against the wall of his chambers, fucking you so sweetly, fucking you in a way that would surely produce an heir.

Your moans filled the halls, and the servants began to spread word that the lord had finally moved on from his first wife.

He carried you to the bed, placing you along the edge as he stood, fucking you with sloppy and drunken thrusts.

You moaned his name, both of you drawing so close to your peak as your hands rested against his stomach. He leaned closed to you as hand moved beside your head to hold his weight, and the other moved under your lower back to lift you slightly off the bed and pull you more into him. The angle sent you over the edge, crying and moaning his name.

Your moans pushed him over, but his next words made you sick.

“Fuck, Alysanne.” He groaned, burying his head in your neck and spilling his seed into you.

You gasped, not even sure you heard him right.

He kissed your neck a few times and then rolled off you, not noticing the look on your face.

You laid there unmoving, still in your dress which was now damp with sweat, and your thighs now sticky with Cregan.

He fell asleep the second his head hit his pillow, still in his clothes.

You choked back a sob, moving your hand to your mouth so he wouldn’t waken. In reality, you could’ve started screaming and he wouldn’t have woke, or even shuffled.

You exited his chambers, trying not to be sick on the way to yours.

“My sister!” Sara drunkenly yelled as she seen you in the hallway. She took notice of your disheveled dress and hair. “Oh my gods, did you and Cregan just…?”

You ignored her, but she noticed the tears on your face. “Wait, sister what is wrong? What happened?”

You slammed the door in her face, throwing yourself into your pillow and screaming.

—

“Mother would be furious if she knew you were sleeping this well past sunrise.”

You groaned, lifting your head from the pillow to find the voice in the room.

“Jacaerys?” You said, when your eyes landed on him.

“I take it the feast for Sara Snow was a success.” He says, making fun of you. Your hair was sticking to your face, wet with a mixture of tears and drool.

“I guess you could say that.” You said, wiping your hair to the side.

“You’re disgusting.” He says.

“Gods, five minutes you’ve been here and you already frustrate me! Get out!” You say, both of you immediately teasing and arguing like you had never left home.

You push him out of your room.

“Don’t touch me, wench!” He whines, smacking your arms.

“Piss off! Go harass the bloody Lord of Winterfell.”

“I’d rather harass the Lady.” You push him out of your doors, turning and pressing your back to slide down the wall.

You hear him knock again and you rise to your feet, angry. “Jace, I said-“

You don’t finish your sentence, since as you open the door it’s Sara.

“I wanna talk about last night.”

“I don’t.” You say, going to close the door on her before she pushes it back open.

“What happened?” She asks, angry. She closes the door behind her and follows you to the bed. You sit on the edge and rest your elbows on your thighs, burying your face in your hands.

“Did my brother hurt you?” She asks, worried.

“No, no.”

She rests on her knees in front of you, placing her hands on your knees. “Tell me what happened.”

You sigh, trying to hold back your tears, but you cannot. “We had sex.”

“Isn’t that good? What went wrong?”

“He called me Alysanne.” You sob out.

“Oh, no.” She says, moving to sit beside you and wrap her arms around you.

“I cannot stay here no longer, Sara. I am being haunted by Alysanne. I find letters she wrote to Cregan, her clothes, her weapons. Rickon thinks I am her and Cregan wishes I was.”

“I am sorry, princess.” She says, sadly. “I thought I knew my brother better than that… Perhaps, if you talk to him about these past few months things can be different. Just give it a try, yes? You have your brother here now. You can leave if things do not work and the marriage can be annulled.”

You did not even wish to think of that possibility. It would be so shameful for both of your houses. You would do everything in your power to make it work.

You cleaned yourself up and went to Cregan’s chambers, knowing he would be hungover.

And you were right.

You entered his room without knocking, finding him in a bath with a warm rag over his eyes. Three times now you’ve been in his chambers.

“You can set it on the table.” He says, not moving the rag.

“What?”

“Oh.” He says, his voice changing in tone. “I thought you were the maid.”

You say nothing, unsure of where to even begin.

“Can whatever you’ve barged into my chambers for wait until I am done.” He asks, only the question is more of a statement.

“No.” You say, angry. You walk over to him and pull the rag off his eyes. He squints at the brightness, then gagging on the air as if he might be sick. “We’re going to talk, Cregan. We’ve been married for months and I don’t think we’ve ever truly had a conversation once. It is all I am asking. You could at least give me that. You’ve given me the cold shoulder for three months, and I’m tired of it. I’ve helped raise your son, I’ve loved you and I’ve cared for you even when you didn’t want it. You owe this to me.”

He sighs, defeated. “You are right in that, my princess. I apologize. We can talk later, alright?”

“No, Cregan. We will talk now.”

“You wouldn’t rather talk when I am of a clear headspace?”

“No. Now.” You say. He sighs again.

“Say your piece.”

The words left your mind the second he said that. You had this conversation in your head many times before, but now it was here and you could not handle the heat of the moment.

He raised his eyebrow at you, as if you were dumb.

“Oh, do not do that. I thought you Starks were supposed to be the most honorable among men. This whole marriage I have been treated with everything but. You are a disrespectful man, Stark. I am truly sorry about Alysanne-“

“Do not speak to me about my wife, ever!” He yells, pointing at you.

“I am your wife!” You cry out. “You chose me, whether you were ready for another marriage or not! I left my home, my family, my dragon to be with you! If I cannot have your love, is it too much to ask for your fucking respect?!”

He goes quiet for a few moments, “You have always had my respect, princess… and I know I have erred in the way I’ve treated you these past moons. But this marriage is just a duty. Nothing more, nothing less. This marriage is not out of love… so do not expect me to love you back.”

You laugh, dryly. “You called me Alysanne last night… Do you remember that? No… I suppose you were too drunk. You never would have touched or cared for me like that sober.”

He says nothing, but his hands grip the side of the tub and his face is contorted with anger. You rise, hiding any sort of emotion on your face.

“The dead don’t need lovers. Only the living.” You said. He threw his rag at the door as you walked out, not even granting him a second glance.

The memories of last night flooded back to him, and he rested his face in his hands, crying at his behavior. He had let down Aly, his son, and you.

He did care about you, he did love you in his own way. He just didn’t know how to show it. He didn’t want to show it. If he had shown it, he only would have betrayed Aly even more.

You went down to the crypt, somewhere you had never gone before. You had no reason originally, no people to mourn.

You stood in front of her plot, staring at the statue of her. She had been a skinny girl, with long dark hair and ‘plain’ features. You thought she was a beauty in her own way. You saw why Cregan loved her.

You cried. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help him.”

Your hand touched her statue, then you stood and left the crypt.

You said goodbye to Rickon, Sara, and then you left with your brother on dragon back, ready to be home with your true family.

———

“You’re a fucking fool, brother.”

“You think I don’t know that? Gods.” Cregan rested his head in his hands. He had sent every raven in Winterfell to Dragonstone, yet not one had responded in the weeks since you’d left.

“We’ll be lucky if the bloody queen doesn’t declare war on us for you scorning her daughter.”

“I am trying here, Sara! I’ve sent my ravens, I’ve sent men to retrieve her. There is nothing more I can do!”

Sara slammed her hands on the table. “Go and get her your bloody self, Cregan. The trip to Dragonstone will give you plenty of time for reflection.”

Sara turned to leave, and Cregan knew it was his only option of getting you back here. He would go and get you and make things right. He had to.

You had your own time for reflection, riding home with Jacaerys made you realize how much you missed being on dragon back.

Your mother of course welcomed you with open arms, but was wracked with guilt that you and Cregan’s union was not working. You paid it no mind however, spending your days patrolling Dragonstone on Silverwing.

Cregan had taken his horse and a few men to retrieve you from Dragonstone. The trip by horse was long, more than several weeks.

The entire time he rode in silence he thought of you. He thought of your last conversation and the final words you had said to him. The dead don’t need lovers. And you were right. Alysanne would not have wished to see him treat you how he had, she would not have wanted Cregan to spend his time sulking or being angry. He only wished he had realized it before he left.

He loved you. If only it hadn’t taken you leaving for him to realize. You were kind, gentle, beautiful. Traits Alysanne didn’t have but it was what seperated you from her. It had been how he was able to find his own kind of love for you, even when he didn’t consciously realize it yet. His own bitterness from losing Aly had made forget his honor.

Cregan arrived about two moons after you had left. He was aching, frustrated, and desperate by the time he reached Dragonstone.

It was dark, pouring rain, and you were playing with your brothers Viserys and Aegon when he arrived.

“Your Grace!” A knight came into the room shouting. Your mother looked up from her book. “Cregan Stark of Winterfell has arrived and requests an immediate audience with you and the princess.”

Your mother looked at you, and you looked like you’d seen a ghost. Your heart sank and your face went pale, but you nodded.

You met him inside the council chambers with your mother and his men. He was soaked, shivering. You could hear your heart beating in your ears, that was how nervous you were.

“Cregan.” You said, walking towards him and pushing him by his arms to the hearth to warm him up. It was another thing he loved about you, your protective nature, so he said it.

“I love you.”

“Cregan…”

“Love her?” You both looked at your mother, whose face was angry. “You love my daughter?”

“Your Grace.” Cregan said, removing his sword and bending his knee. “I’ve come to beg your forgiveness.”

She walked towards you both. “It is not mine you need to beg for… I sent my only daughter to you, and you spurn her for your dead wife?!”

“Mother!”

“You will not interrupt the Queen when she is speaking.” She commands you. “What do you have to say for yourself, Lord Stark?”

He stands. “I have nothing to say, Your Grace. You are right. My behavior was unacceptable. The princess deserved none of it.”

“Why are you here?” Your mother asks him.

“I’ve come to ask the princess to return home.” Your mother scoffs at him.

She looks at you, then back to him. “You are lucky it is not my decision to make.”

She turns and exits, leaving and commanding his men to wait outside the doors so you both could be alone.

You were even more nervous with just the two of you in there. It is silent for a few moments before you speak.

“Why the sudden change of heart?” You ask Cregan.

“It took you leaving for me to realize I love you.” He says, taking your hands in his. You roll your eyes, taking your hands back and stepping away.

“I can’t believe you.” You say, starting to sob.

“I know, I know.” He steps closer to you again, taking you in his arms as you cry into his chest. “I’m so sorry.”

“I loved you, Cregan.” You say, crying. “Since I was a girl I loved you. I thought you were different from other men. But, you’re just like the rest.”

Cregan cries into your hair. “I’m so sorry, my princess. I’m so, so sorry.”

You both stand there, holding each other and crying.

“Please come home.” He says. “Let me take you home.”

“Rickon misses his mother, Sara misses her sister… I miss you, you my wife.”

You pull away to look at him, trying to read his normally stoic features. You can see he means it.

“Okay.”

———

You returned to Winterfell on Silverwing, no longer having the strength to remain apart from your dragon.

Cregan had to endure another long and grueling trip back to Winterfell, which you enjoyed knowing he was suffering while you road through the skies.

Rickon had cried tears of joy when you returned, and a week later when Cregan arrived Rickon cried again.

You and Cregan had remained in seperated chambers while you still navigated your marriage, but Cregan made a point to spend every moment of his free time with you.

But you had been keeping a secret from him.

After you returned home to Dragonstone originally, your blood never arrived. The maester determined you were with a babe, which would arrive several moons away in the dead of winter.

Your thick furs and dresses made it easier to hide from Cregan, as you were not ready to tell him.

The babe had complicated things. If you had not been pregnant, you might not have returned to Winterfell when Cregan came for you. But you knew you had a duty, and you believed if Cregan could love you then you could fix your union.

Cregan had indeed put the work in the second he arrived home. He attended to you, conversed with you, ate with you, laughed with you, but gave you the space you needed and gave you the option to be intimate with him when you were ready.

It was strangely like falling in love all over again. You blushed around each other, got nervous and flushed, made each other’s hearts race, shared a first kiss when you were both ready.

Cregan had undoubtedly fallen madly in love with you, and he regretted not taking the time to do it sooner. He couldn’t make up the time he lost being afraid. All he could do now was love you without guilt, love you without fear, love you without shame.

Normally Cregan always knocked on your chamber doors before entering, but for some reason this time he hadn’t. He didn’t know why he didn’t knock, he didn’t know if it happened unconsciously or if he was too busy wrapped up with his thoughts.

Either way, he entered without knocking and by that point the cat was out of the bag.

He said your name, greeting you with a smile, only for it to fall off his face as if it had never been there.

You were in the bath, relaxing in the burning water, but that wasn’t the problem. He’d seen you naked, although it hadn’t been for a few months by this point, but him accidentally invading your privacy wasn’t the problem either.

It was the bump in your belly that was a problem.

Your head turned sharply, covering your chest quickly. “Cregan!”

“Sorry.” He said quickly, turning around to avoid disrespecting you.

“It’s fine.” You said, dropping your arm from your chest. “You just gave me a fright.”

He said nothing for a moment, only continuing to face the wall.

“What is that?” He finally asked. You sighed, stepping out of the tub and into your robe.

You walked up behind him, resting a hand on his shoulder. He turned around to face you now, and his eyes fell down to your other hand resting on the small bump in your stomach.

“Perhaps it’s time we talk.”

“You think?” He spits at you, immediately apologizing after. “I’m sorry, princess. I didn’t mean to be cross with you.”

You said nothing, walking over to the seats by the hearth hoping he would follow.

He did, and he sat next to you, his eyes never leaving your belly.

“Can I?” He asked, gesturing to your stomach. You nodded, untying your robe so that you were bare. You grabbed his hand, bringing it to the small bump.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I could have accommodated for you, made sure you were comfortable.”

“Truth be told it’s been hard for me to accept I’m truly with a child.” You say, “The reality had not set in until… well until you just now found out... I am sorry, Cregan. I should not have kept it from you.”

He chokes back a sob. “Feels like just yesterday Alysanne had Rickon.”

“He will be overjoyed to know he will have a little brother or sister.” You tell him. He looks at you, his face full of emotion.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks and before you can even finish nodding your head, you’re already leaning in to kiss him.

“I love you. I love you so much, my wife.” He says in between kisses.

His hand did not move once from your stomach the whole night.

[ckret2]

So a while ago some friends were talking about fans who claim the Same Coin theory is canon. And I made the mistake of saying:

Do you know who also has tons in common with Bill? Mabel. Yet nobody claims Bill reincarnated as Mabel. …wait now I want a "same coin but it's Mabel" AU. Funniest Bill reincarnation option. The all-seeing arsonist is making macaroni glitter art. The omnipotent tyrant is crying because a unicorn called her a bad person.

And then I overthought it for two months.

So—AU where after death, Bill's soul shoots 13 years into the past and reincarnates as Mabel. I'll call it ✨ Sparkly Coin AU ✨

Don't leave yet. Lemme show you why it works. Behold the eerie amount of parallels in their personalities, dialogue, behavior, mannerisms, tastes...

I could have kept going but my attention span ran out. All right, we all on board now? Convinced we could segue from one personality into the other? Great. Now here's why you should be interested: the juicy post-Weirdmageddon angst potential.

As long as a small fringe of the fandom still thinks Weirdmageddon is Mabel's fault, why not amp that up x100 and have some fun with it?

Is everyone sold now? Great. Let's get into the details. I've got 8 more pieces of art under the read more.

So the AU starts the instant Bill dies. Thanks to invoking his deal with the Axolotl—one way to absolve his crime, a different form, a different time—the Axolotl gives him a new shape and shoots him thirteen years into the past. Apparently, the Axolotl thought it would be very funny to stick Bill in the family that defeated him.

Which probably made for a jarring transition.

(It's fine, she's like 10 minutes old, she probably can't even tell who she's looking at. Not being able to tell who she was looking at is what got her into this situation ayyyy)

When Dipper & Mabel come back from Gravity Falls complaining about this triangular jerk Bill, their parents mention that Dipper's name was nearly Bill. See, after they knew they were going to have a boy, one night their mom dreamed about a visitor—some kind of magic pink salamander??—calling her child "BILL." Then at the next sonogram they found out they were having twins, the girl must've been hidden at a weird angle the first time, and they wanted matching names, so they thought, Bill and Bell. But they didn't really like Bell; but eventually they stumbled on Mabel, so to keep the names matching they switched from Bill to Mason. Isn't that the darnedest thing?

(Of course, Mabel and Dipper assume Bill harassed their parents to try to trick them into naming a kid after him. To be a jerk.)

When Bill meets Mabel, he's unaware that she's his future self—Bill's notably bad at doing things like, say, double-checking to see whether he's going to die anytime soon—but like... he can tell something's up.

Naturally, before visiting Gravity Falls, there were echoes of who Mabel used to be—but nothing anyone would be able to identify without context. All her Bill-ish quirks either smoothed out with time (see: how between second grade and fourth grade Mabel went from being the "freak" to the popular girl in class), or else they were accepted by her family as Mabel-ish quirks.

After they meet (and kill) Bill, they have the context to understand some of Mabel's behaviors... and unfortunately, some of Mabel's latent Bill-ness starts surfacing after she's been directly exposed to her prior incarnation.

The part of the Pines family familiar with Bill thinks the worst case scenario is that maybe Bill's survived and is slowly possessing Mabel; but far more likely, they think this is just some weird way of trying to subconsciously process last summer. Mabel doesn't think she's being weird, you guys are being weird, stop giving her weird looks. They get attacked by one triangle and now she can't wear yellow or pick up macrame as a hobby??

(It's not all red flags and uncomfortable triangle imagery, though. When Stan asks her what she'd like as a gift for some important event, she shyly admits that she thinks she's starting to outgrow her plastic gem jewelry and maybe she's old enough to get her first piece of real gold jewelry, if that's not too expensive? And Stan's never been so proud of her. Thirteen years old and already thinking about buying gold!)

But of course, the real fun starts when Mabel finds out.

That's the face of a girl who's just discovered that she tortured her great uncle. Now imagine running into the brother she possessed.

But I've already spent a million words and thirteen images on this post. If enough folks are interested in the AU maybe I'll expand on it later. Let me know what y'all think.