#let’s play whos my favorite… ITS OBVIOUS

[beatlesmenrock]

i have a lot of Beatles sketches that im probably not going to finish like these ones so i thought id post them for u guys <333

[arolesbianism]

If I had the freedom of not knowing there is going to be future new lore stuff added to oni I would do unspeakable things to so many of these guys. Or Id just make them normal guys who just sorta exist. Either or.

[ayumip]

𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮…𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬?

boyfriend!rin x reader

word count: 0.6k

rin, your boyfriend, is jealous of the stray cat you recently adopted. so what's he going to do? get it away of course!

recently, rin's been wearing a permanent scowl on his face, not that he didn't scowl at everyone before, but now it was wayyy more obvious.

you, on the other hand, were living your best life. for the past month, you've been feeding this stray cat in your neighborhood, bringing it milk, cat food and water from the nearby connivence story everyday. it took you a while to confirm that it was indeed a stray, and not a cat roaming around using its cuteness to lure passersby to give it more food. nevertheless, you begged rin to allow you to adopt it into your shared apartment. using your puppy dog eyes, and some other forms of convincing, he relented with a "i don't care as long as it doesn't bother me"

little did he know, that cat would be the death of him.

"here kitty kitty~!" you would coo at your new pet with that bright smile of yours, showering it with love and affection. you cuddled with it on your chest every morning, every afternoon, every evening; even when your were working late at night, it was either on your lap or on your desk. (that was his privilege! though he would never admit it, he thrived off your touch. if he could, he would glue himself next to you, never letting go)

rin wasn't the best at voicing his emotions. this past week, you've been all over your cat! gushing about it, playing with it, taking care of it...how about him! he was itching for you to cuddle with him again, or lay his head on your lap as you gave him his head scratches that he oh so adored; even a quick touch would mean heaven for him at this point!

deprived of your touch, rin has begun to utterly despise your cat. oh, to him it was the definition of the devil itself —nuzzling up to you all the time, taking your attention away from him, your boyfriend, squishing itself in the middle of you two in the middle of your horror movie nights, or even worse, evicting him away from his spot in your arms. he was getting crankier, but he wouldn't say anything! he just gave you fleeting touches hoping you'd get the hint, which of course, you didn't.

tonight, it was the night. he wanted your touch back, no, he needed it back! it's been a week, a week away from you (not really, rin's exaggerating here.) the three of you were sitting on the shared couch, watching yet another horror movie. instead of you cuddling up to him, you were instead petting your cat! softly stroking it's fur and scratching just behind it's ears. it let out a content purr, satisfied with your ministrations. rin, could not focus on the movie at all, despite horror being his favorite genre.

when you momentarily left to grab some water. rin pounced on the chance to give your cat his signature death stare, it hissing back in response to rin's hostility. rin didn't falter, he cupped the cat's cheeks 'gently', glaring into it's eyes:

"get away from my girlfriend, you lukewarm creature." he muttered, only to be met with your cat's sharp paws smacking his face.

you were watching from afar, biting back your laughter at the hilarious exchange between your cat and your boyfriend. joining them back at the couch, you picked up your cat, prying it away from rin, who was moments away from god knows what, nuzzling into your arms as it glared rin down.

"...rin- are you picking a fight with my baby?"

"i'm your baby."

authors note: god i wish i had a cat too :( there may be some mischaracterization here but i had this idea and wrote it in like 30 mins...might write a pt 2 where rin gets along w ur cat at last!

[meowmeowriley]

Ghost had been on his phone since Soap had entered the rec room. Not unusual, he tended to read emails or news articles in his spare time. No, what was unusual was that he had his phone sideways. Occasionally tapping at the screen with a thumb. Gaming then.

The 141's resident emo was full of surprises, one being that Ghost loved video games. The man had an old Playstation 3 that might as well have been his first born, the way he adored it. If the PS3 were his first child, then his Xbox One was rebellious problem child, the way he cursed it constantly, threatening to dismantle it and use its husk as a doorstop. Something about changing constantly, and adds on startup had been his most recent rant. He swore he loved it too, but the favoritism was obvious.

Ghost would be found in his room on one of the two consoles nearly every evening. With how often Soap found him gaming, this behavior shouldn't have struck him as odd, and yet it was the first time he'd ever seen the man play anything on his phone.

"Ya winnin', Lt.?" The glare he earned for that comment had him cackling as he fixed himself a midday coffee.

Soap sat down on the sofa with Ghost and turned on the TV. Ghost continued with whatever he was doing.

Beneath his mask the man's brow was pinched, he chewed his bottom lip, and each tap of his thumb was marginally more firm than the last. Ghost was seething, then.

Soap abandoned his show and instead watched something much more entertaining; Ghost's apparent descent into madness. He huffed on occasion, shifted in his seat, hunched his shoulders, and glared daggers down at his phone, a look that could make any of the rookies on base cry and wet themselves.

Soap was delighted. After he finished his coffee he jogged back to his room and snatched his journal so he could draw Ghost having his fit, he wanted to commit it to memory.

Soap was nearly done with his sketch, though it was a bit more than a simple sketch, nearing realism with how much detail he'd poured into Ghost's stormy eyes, when Ghost spoke quietly and for the first time in nearly an hour of them sharing space. "This game is for godless heathens." 

Soap nearly lost it, just barely managing to smother the laugh that bubbled forth. He coughed to hide what little escaped him, and used his hand to hide his face, scrubbing down to erase the smile that tried to give him away. "What, ah, what're you even playin', Ghost?"

"Tile Towers, on Webkinz."

Soap did lose it then. He'd seen the now ancient stuffy in Ghost's quarters, a scraggly looking leopard, but couldn't wrap his head around the man actually playing the game, let alone getting this angry over a mini game for children. He laughed so hard it hurt, tears streamed down his face, and Ghost booted him off the couch without even looking away from his phone.

***

Written by someone who recently found out that webkinz classic has a mobile app, and rediscovered their utter hatred for Tile Towers. Why do I keep playing it? It's awful, fucking stupid! And yet I keep. Going. Back. I'm also miffed that my original account has been deactivated. I've only been absent for like 13 years! Come on! 🤬

[izzabela]

based on a very real text from my very real boyfriend...

pregnant!reader x price

reader probably in the second trimester

MDNI: smut, graphic descriptions of sex, p-in-v, pregnant sex, pregnant!reader, f!reader = f!genitalia, prone-bone? (yeah i think so), we are rawdogging tonight! is breeding still possible while pregnant...? (if so, then breeding),

Price is just a guy

a chill guy who loves his pregnant wife

maybe a little too much...

because when you came to him with the announcement, the blue lines a heaven-sent message from the God he didn't believe existed, everything about his brain chemistry changed

you smelled so nice, lovely in fact. intoxicating, sickeningly sweet that he put in paid paternity leave much earlier than the intended date he was supposed to. you giggled every time you felt Price's scruff over your shoulder, arm, legs- any body part that Price could get his hands on

"darling!" you'd squeal, voice pitched in ticklish joy every time his thick hairs brushed over your skin.

he didn't want to leave you, not now and certainly not in the near future.

you're so soft too. maybe it was the bundle of joy in the middle of its creation in your belly, or maybe it was the constant massages that Price gave you whenever your back hurts. whatever it was, Price's calloused hands from war meeting his angel's, it the closest thing he has to purification.

"your hands...." you'd coo at his scarred limbs. "have you been using the healing cream i gifted you?"

cream? the only ointment he needs was your supple body- his holy grail

but the thing that did it for Price, the thing that made him go insane was the obvious sign of your pregnancy- the lil' bump that showed God's immaculate gift of a woman

for every cuddle session, Price's hands swarmed your belly with feathery touches. his lips would whisper the softest promises into your plush and growing belly. "papa'll show you the world" was your favorite

for every outing you and Price had, a hand always found your belly still! touchy thing, he is, because he would not stop talking about the little pumpkin you and Price were growing together

and for every night in bed...

"mmm, honey..." you writhed in his warmth, your back against his chest. if his stubbly beard rubbing the nape of your neck was one point of bodily irritation, then your back was tingling on fire with the fine hairs of his chest

"'s nothin' love," Price mumbles against your skin, leaving little kisses that were slowly going lower and lower. "Jus' checkin' on the baby, makin' sure she's healthy."

you felt rough hands scale your body, one resting over your mouth to muzzle you, and the other slithering down before making its home over your damp underwear. if your cunt was the magic lamp, then your muffled moans were his wishes come true

"stay quiet fo' me, love," he murmurs into your ear, nibbling a little bit in the process. compliance was a new thing for you, and you were damned that listening to him made you feel... real damn good

"there's a love...." he practically growled, swiping your panty to the side and easing his fat digits into your cunt

"h-honey, the doc said-" you tried to reason with him, but a quick grip to your jaw and you were reminded about the law of your darling husband. without saying anything more, you melt into Price, letting him make work in your aching pussy

how is it possible that you were so much softer inside? so much more wet? practically coating his fingers in slick as he pumped, pumped, and pumped, his nubs in you

shaking his hand off your mouth, you looked over your shoulder with those eyes he could never say no to, and the magic word

"inside?" you plea. and who is he to deny you the pleasure?

switching positions, he lays you on your tummy (with copious blankets and pillows to support you). of course, the fucking tease makes sure to irritate you by prodding his cock at your entrance, his head kissing your sopping folds down there. you mewl, whining for him to stop playing games with you

"sorry, dove," he leans over to kiss your cheek. "was 'at mean? oh, don't cry love," he hushes you some more, before a little smile peaks through and his number one girl is back

your lips lock with his like animals in heat, like you haven't seen him in years, like it's the first time in a long time since he's had you in his arms. and as your tongues dance, his cock finally makes its home inside of you, nestling nicely in your warm, gummy walls. in fact, you're certain his mushroomy head is just touching your cervix

he doesn't fuck slow, he fucks intentionally (that's how you're carrying his future in the first place...). after getting used to your insides, his hips buck in and out, a steady, constant pace that hits every. single. spot. and his cock, oh his that lovely cock of his, stretching you out until you're crying (again) out of pleasure and wanting

"greedy lil' thing, aren't'cha wife?" his voice low and gravelly in your ear. one of his hands is over your mouth, two digits in your mouth to gag and choke, while the other arm holds your little hands in place

"y'wan' anotha one? hm? wan' another baby inside? givin' 'm a lil brother o' sister?" he teases, cock practically engraving itself in you for your walls to memorize

he does everything in his power to not cum inside, even though his words have you drooling for more. but when you squeeze him, tightening around him as he's about to pull out, his chest is on your back again as he drives himself to his own finish

"playin' dirty, lil' girl," he snarls, and you can't help but lick over his fingers in response

you can't speak with his fingers gagging you, but your mind roared with "more, more, more" and "fill me, fill me, fill me" like a mantra

and isn't the best way to thank God through worship and prayer?

your finish is visceral, flashes of white clouding your vision as you feel your thighs and legs shake. you pussy is no better, slick leaving and coating your sheets

Price is practically there, hips smashing into your round ass, hearing his flesh collide with your to create the symphony of his dreams- bonus points for your cunt adding even more music

"ah, fuck, honey i'm-!" but there's no point for Price to finish his sentence when the rest of it filled you up

you melted at the feeling of his spunk coating your walls, filling you to the brim, the fatigue of sex finally caught up to you as you began to doze off

"c'mon love," he chuckled, a little rough in his throat as he tried to keep you awake. "gotta 'elp me to not hurt our lil' one..."

you weakly flip over back onto your left side, but there's no point in fighting the sleepiness when you've already drifted into the land of subconscious. Price can only sigh at the sight, but who's he to complain? you're growing his little pumpkin

as you dreamed of your baby, images of your baby all grown, Price was tending to his garden. after all, how can she create more if not taken care of properly?

[nether-ending-dream]

The LADS Boys' Realistic Kinks

What are they actually into?

Kink list and imagines ♡

I feel like a lot of the kink lists I've seen for the guys haven't been realistic/match their characteristics. Therefore, I wanted to write my own and see whether or not you guys agree with its accuracy! Remember, this is just fiction, and I'm going based off my own thoughts and personal, sexual experiences. Let me know if you're interested in full fics or short imagines. I'd be down to write them or take requests. With that said, enjoy!!

♡♡♡

Rafayel

Switch

Teases/Acts bratty to initate sex

Loves getting and giving hickeys

Thigh fucking

Chastity cages

Would like to try sounding but is too scared.

《Raf!sub》 Impact play. He specifically likes paddles with that leave hearts/designs.

All his toys are aesthetically pleasing and match.

Tail butt plugs, but he's shy so he tends to only wear them when masturbating on his own.

《Raf!sub》 Likes handcuffs, but doesn't like rope (doesn't like how itchy and rough it can feel).

《Raf!dom》 Very much into shibari and practices on mannequins with he's not with you.

Dacryphiliac. Loves being made to cry from pain and occasionally likes seeing you cry from pleasure (makes him feel like he's doing a good job)

《Raf!sub》 Likes receiving anal and keeps his butt clean and prepped

《Raf!dom》 Loves getting head the most because it boosts his ego. He can get very rough with your hair and have you drolling everywhere.

Definitely talkative during sex. Usually a lot of affirmative words and moaning. Checks in quite often and overall pretty conversational during.

In my experience with numerous bottoms, this tends to be how they are. However, as you all know, he enjoys being dominant as well. Though he can be very whiny and shy, he is also caring and intuitive. He prides himself on knowing all your sweet spots and making you into a pretty mess at the end. I'm a professional artist too, so I know the need to strive for perfection in all aspect of our lives. Sex is no different, he's definitely the type who googled "how to kiss" as a teen.

Xavier

Switch but mainly a dom

Exhibitionist. Likes sneaky touches in public or sex in the woods. Quite possessive, but won't make a scene about it.

Vocal and obvious about when he's riled up. Master of foreplay and teasing.

Likes watching you get him off. He adores your face when you go down on him.

Lots of "good girl" and praises

《Xav!sub》 Always tries to hold back moans and act tough while he takes it. Less bratty and more nonchalant. But he likes taking orders from you and letting you lead.

《Xav!dom》 has a thing for spit and degradation. He likes it sloppy.

Somnophiliac. Sleepy sex, cuddle sex, morning sex, etc.

Toys and vibrators to enhance the session

Not really into bondage cause he likes when you're both touchy and explore with your hands.

《Xav!sub》 Surprisingly would be into cross dressing or puppy play

I don't really know anyone like Xavier in real life, since he's so myserious and calm. He's like a hidden gem when it comes to sex. Tends to be more vanilla, but hes still very flirtatious and can be rough. Since he finishes quick, he loves edging. Doesn't really sleep around, so it may seem like he's inexperienced, but hes extremely loyal.

Zayne

Soft dom, doesn't really enjoy bottoming, he'd rather pleasure you.

Lots of soft words, pretty pet names, and check-ins to make sure you're okay. Loves getting you to be vocal. Will pretend he didn't hear you so you can say dirty things.

His favorite position is doggie while holding your arms back. He loves looking at you and flashes a smile while you're turned around.

Bodyworship and massages, takes his time leaving kisses and soft bites all over you.

Premium aftercare and knows how to set the mood. Lots of candles, dim lights and soft music.

Guilty pleasure is roleplay. He can really get into it and play along. He thinks its fun to dress up as different dynamics.

[I've been waiting for this moment my whole life] Sounding. Since he's a surgeon, he has access to the high quality rods. He knows how to sound safely and loves either sounding you or himself.

Though he is sweet, he can be rough when he's really riled up. He'll mumble words with his head thrown back, picking up speed and grabbing you tightly.

Only slightly spanking, but he does enjoy watching you tear up from pleasure. He likes watching your ass get red.

Really into your thighs and labia. Will spenda lot of time kissing you there before eating you out.

Of course his surgeon hands know your weak points. Master at fingering.

Has a thing for tongues, whether it's watching you lick his shaft, putting his fingers in your mouth or licking your body.

With him, you'll probably never have bad sex in your life. Though if he's too "by the book" and gets formulatic, just let him know because he definitely has new things he wants to try. Super keen to your needs and can never get enough of you. He can usually go for multiple rounds. Master of aftercare.

Sylus

Strictly a dom. He gets a laugh out of watching you try to dominate him, but it always ends up with him back on top.

Heavily into impact play. His tool of choice tends to be a belt

Bondage with cuffs and blindfolds. He's not as dedicated to learning shibari as an art form, but he knows basics ties and how to do it safely.

Not into public exhibitionism (he has an image to uphold), but he loves a private show. He enjoys watching you from afar (lap dance, pole dance, mutual masturbation, etc.)

Slightly into voyeurism, in the sense that he loves teasing you by walking around the house with only a towel or a robe.

His secret fanstasy is dog masks. In an alternate universe where you're dominating him, he'd love to get on his knees with a collar.

LOVES anal. Although he is always sure to fully prep you, the second you're ready, it's non-stop roughness until you both finish.

Fingering>Head. While he does enjoy watching you go down on him, he gets too riled up too quick and wants his hands all over your body.

If he is getting head, he's definitely throat fucking you with your neck over the bed.

Definitely into knife play and I think he'd also enjoy spurs.

Wax and temperature play

Dirty, nasty talk. Lots of curses (unless you don't like that, he accommodates to you) lots of pet names.

Biting and grabbing whenever he can.

Loves giving oily massages.

Baths/showers for aftercare + body worship

Reluctantly giving credit where it's due, Aries knows how to fuck. It's going to be rough and heated. Since he's a busy guy, he always makes sure to give his darling a good time. He's a try everything once kind of guy, so whatever you have in mind, he'll make it happen. Very confident in his sexual abilities, but is always looking to improve any weak points.

[tikosblogg]

Scream..18+ (Winner)

*Pic from Pinterest*

Summary: Noah has been obsessed you with you from the minute he met you. So he decided to do something about it.

Warning: B&E, chasing, slight dubcon at first(DO NOT READ IF THAT TRIGGERS YOU), turns to full consent, smut, piv, unprotected sex, oral (F&M receiving), choking, dirty talk.

A/N: 13 cameras will be posted next because I already have half of it written!! Anyways plz enjoy 😉

The wind howled outside, rattling the old shutters of my home like a ghostly chorus. It was Halloween night, and while the neighborhood was alive with laughter and the sounds of trick-or-treaters, I found myself alone, comfortable in my solitude. As I settled onto the couch, the flickering light from my favorite horror movie cast eerie shadows on the walls. The protagonist's scream echoed in the back of my mind, but tonight, I felt safe, cocooned by the familiarity of my home.

Then, the phone rang.

I hesitated. Who is calling me this late?, glancing at the caller ID. No one. Just an unknown number. Curiosity pulled me in. "Hello?" I answered tentatively.

A low, distorted voice crackled through the line. "What’s your favorite scary movie?"

I huffed a quiet laugh, at the obvious prank call “Um, it’s probably ‘The Shining,’” I chuckled, deciding to entertain the mysterious caller. “What’s yours?” He chuckles darkly before answering.

“Nice choice. I bet you'd look pretty in the shower, just like Lia Beldam…I guess I’d say Halloween " he replies, the raspy tone sending a chill down my spine. I felt a strange mix of excitement and unease. "Who is this? This is getting a little creepy." After a few moments of silence, he finally spoke.

"Just Someone who's been watching you. And tonight, I couldn't resist calling to hear your voice." A sense of dread settled in my stomach. My heart raced as I tried to picture who this mysterious caller could be.

“I’m hanging up, you’re starting to freak me out.” I breathed, my hands started to shake uncontrollably. "Don't hang up." I froze as his voice turned hard, almost threatening. "I want to play a game. I'll be watching you, and you'll never know when I might show up. It's like your own personal horror movie."

I hung up instantly, my heart pounding as I set the phone aside. My mind raced with thoughts of that distorted voice, each word wrapping around me like a cold shroud. I tried to shake it off, pushing myself to focus on the movie, but it lost its charm amidst my rising anxiety. Why am I getting so worked up over this?

Time passed, and I decided I needed a hot shower to wash off the unsettling feelings. I stepped under the spray, the warmth enveloping me like a protective barrier. The familiar sound of droplets against the tub was comforting, and I closed my eyes, letting the water tumble me into a sense of relaxation.

Suddenly, a noise echoed through the house, ripping me from my peaceful thoughts. I froze, my heart racing as I strained to listen over the sound of the running water. There it was again—a loud thump. My breath quickened as I shut off the water and stepped out, grabbing a towel to wrap around me.

“Hello?” I called into the silence, but my voice shook with fear. I tiptoed towards the hallway, peering into the dark corners of my home. It was empty.

As I rounded the corner, my breath caught in my throat. There, standing in the dim light of the living room, was a figure cloaked in a black robe, their face hidden behind a white mask. My pulse thundered in my ears, and for a moment, time stood still.

“What the fuck!?” I screamed, my voice sharp with terror.

With a sudden movement, he lunged towards me. I spun around, adrenaline coursing through my veins as I sprinted toward my bedroom, heart pounding against my ribcage like a caged animal. I could hear his footsteps behind me—heavy and relentless, echoing like a death knell.

I barely reached my room, slamming the door shut just in time. As I fumbled for the lock, I could hear him banging against the door with a terrifying ferocity. Panic blurred my vision, and I felt a lump in my throat as I sprinted across the room.

I stumbled backward in horror as the door splintered under his assault. With one final push, it broke free, and he charged into the room, tackling me onto the bed.

The room spun as I landed, the weight of him pinning me down. I screamed, fighting against his grip, but it was futile—his strength overpowered me.

“Why are you doing this?” I cried, tears streaming down my cheeks. “Because I wanna hear you scream,” his familiar voice made me freeze. He reached forward, his gloved fingers wrapping around my throat.

My heart stopped at the tattoos that ran up his arms. The tattoos I’ve admired many times in the past. "Noah?” I whimpered. fear, confusion, and excitement running through my veins at once. “What the hell are you doing?" I gasped reaching up to tear off his mask.

His brown eyes darkened with intensity as he smiled, revealing a row of perfect white teeth. He was breath taking, but all I could focus on was why he was doing this. I met Noah a couple months ago, at a bar in town. We had exchanged numbers, and even hung out multiple times.

I had just started a new job, and became extremely overwhelmed. I eventually stopped texting him, and seeing him, not having time for a relationship. "I couldn't stay away any longer, Y/N," he said, his voice low and rough. "I've been watching you for months, fantasizing about this moment.”

I was shocked by my body's reaction to his words. I should have been terrified, kicked him out, even called the police, but my skin tingled with desire. Noah's eyes burned with a feral hunger as he traced a finger down my neck, sending shivers through me.

"I want you Y/N," he whispered, his hot breath caressing my face. “Let me have you.” He groaned, rutting his hips against mine softly. Before I could respond, his lips crashed down on mine, hungry and demanding. I moaned into his mouth, my body betraying my fear. His tongue danced with mine, and I tasted the sweet desperation for me on his lips.

His hands roamed over my body, his touch sending sparks through my veins. He yanked my towel open, exposing my naked flesh to his hungry gaze. His fingers traced my curves, making me arch into his touch. I could feel his dick pressing against my thigh, a reminder of the danger and excitement of the moment.

Before I could respond, his lips crashed down on mine, hungry and demanding. I moaned into his mouth, my body betraying my fear. His tongue danced with mine, and I tasted the sweetness of desire mixed with a hint of darkness.

Noah's hands roamed over my body, his touch sending sparks through my veins. He untied my towel, exposing my naked flesh to his hungry gaze. His fingers traced my curves, making me arch into his touch. I could feel his erection pressing against my thigh, a reminder of the danger and excitement of the moment.

"You want me Y/N?" he growled, his voice hoarse. "Tell me you want me, beg for it"

I nodded, unable to form words as his hand slid between my thighs, his fingers finding my wet slit. He stroked it slowly, building the tension until I was squirming beneath him.

"Please, Noah," I begged, my voice hoarse. "I need you." He chuckled, a dark, wicked sound, and slid himself down between my thighs. He pressed his tongue against the inside of knee, dragging up towards my throbbing core.

He ghosted his lips over my sensitive clit. His hot breath making me shiver. I ran my fingers through the top of his hair, gently tugging his head closer. He let out another low chuckle before finally licking up my soaked slit. “Oh fuck..”‘I whined breathless.

“You like that baby?” He grinned up at me, gently circling my clit with his finger, before pushing it inside of me. “Uh huh..” I whined, unable to form a coherent sentence. He leaned back in, sucking my clit into his mouth softly. He added a second finger, pumping them faster.

“Cum for me y/n, cum all over my fingers baby.” He groaned, flicking his tongue faster. “Fuck Noah…I’m gonna cum.” I moaned, my back arching from the mattress. “That’s right baby.” He mumbled, nipping at the insides of my thighs.

My whole body tensed as I finished, my walls clenching hard around his fingers. He groaned, fucking me through it. Once I came to, I sat up grabbing his face and pulling up towards me in a heated messy kiss. I flipped us around, straddling his thighs as he looked up at me in shock.

“My turn.” I smiled, kissing his lips softly. The white mask laying beside us caught my eye. He watched carefully as I reached over to retrieve it. “You wanna wear it?” He laughed gripping my hips, dragging my cunt over his hardened bulge.

I smiled running my hand through the side of his hair. “I want you to.” I whispered, my lips brushing his. His eyes shot up in surprise, a small smirk covering his lips. Without another word, I slipped the mask back over his head.

I kissed his lips over the mask, before pushing him down onto the mattress. I slid down his thighs, making myself comfy between them. I heard him groan as I kissed his dick through his pants. His hips bucked up as I continued teasing him.

“Please baby…I wanna feel your mouth.” I instantly gave in, not being able to wait any longer. I unbuttoned his jeans and freed his length, feeling it throb in my hand.

I stroked him slowly, enjoying the way his breath hitched beneath the mask. His dick was hot and hard, veins popping as I pumped my fist up and down. Pre-cum glistened at the tip, and I leaned down, to lick it off teasingly. The salty taste of him on my tongue made me moan, and I knew I had to take him into my mouth right then.

Lowering myself, I took the head of his cock between my lips, swirling my tongue around the smooth crown. His hips bucked off the bed, trying to fuck my mouth, but I held him firm, setting the pace. I wanted to drive him crazy, push him to the edge of sanity. My lips slid down his shaft, taking him deep, until I felt his pubic hair tickling my nose.

The sound of his muffled moans filled the room as I sucked and teased, using my tongue and the warmth of my mouth to drive him crazy. I could feel his thighs trembling, his control slipping away. His hands gripped my hair, as he slowly thrusted up into my mouth.

I softly squeezed the base before pulling off his dick with a pop, I teased the head with my tongue, swirling and flicking, before taking him back into the wet heat of my mouth. I looked up at him through the slits of the mask, as his hands fisted my hair tightly.

Before I could do anything else, he quickly jerked me up and flipped us over and slid himself down between my thighs. With one swift thrust, he filled me up. I cried out, my nails digging into his back as I felt every inch of his throbbing dick.

Noah pounded into me relentlessly, his tattoos a blur as he moved with primal urgency. His hands gripped my hips, leaving marks on my skin, a reminder of his possession. I matched his rhythm, meeting his savage thrusts with my own, our bodies becoming a tangle of sweat and pure animalistic need.

"You're so fucking tight, baby," he grunted, his hand coming up around my throat. "Whose pussy is this?” He grunted, not letting up. I whined, at the feeling of his dick stretching me out deliciously. “Yours…” He stared down at me through the mask, squeezing my throat tighter. “And don’t fucking forget it.”

His words ignited a fire within me, and I clawed at his back, urging him on. Each thrust pushing me closer to the edge. His fingers found my clit, and he rubbed it in perfect rhythm with his thrusts, sending me spiraling towards another release.

"You gonna cum baby?," he commanded, his voice a growl. "I can feel your pussy squeezing me." He groaned, laying his forehead against mine. I reached up, tearing the mask off for the second time tonight, desperate to feel his lips again. I felt my orgasm coming, as his tongue explored my mouth. He groaned fucking me harder. “Good fucking girl.”

His words sent me over the edge. I cried out his name as my orgasm ripped through me, my body shaking uncontrollably. He grunted above me, his body tensing as he filled me up with his hot cum.

As our breathing slowed, Noah collapsed onto the bed beside me. I turned to face him, my body still humming with pleasure. “Stay..” I whispered, lightly running my finger down the tattoo on his throat. He smiled, wrapping his arm around my waist, pulling me into him. “Of course…I’m not finished with you yet.”

[coralinnii]

happy 2.7k, that's a hug milestone <3!! while requests are open, could you write ace and jamil and how their favorite way would be to hold/hug their partner? thank you <33

‧₊˚✧ Surround Me in Your Warmth‧₊˚✧ 

↳ His favorite way to hold you

feat: Ace ❋ Jamil genre: fluff, note: no pronouns were used for reader, established relationship 

extra note: Hopefully I'm using it right but “ya rouhi/ya rohi” means “soulmate”, suggested by an amazing reader! (You know who you are. If you find this, let me know if you’d let me add your name as a mention!) 

2.7K Followers Writing Event 2023-2024

He holds you like he’s taking a breath, naturally and often unconsciously. 

Even before you became a couple, Ace would casually sling an arm onto your shoulder or place a hand to guide you somewhere. He may not always be aware of it, but he can be a hands-on guy, especially when he gets real comfortable around you.

It’s just more prominent and obvious when you two became official. It’s no longer your space, but ✧ our space✧ 

This natural magnetism towards each other is further assimilated into his natural routine that he’s already holding onto you before he could even tease you about it.

“Want me to hold your hand so you don't get lost?~” 

“We’re already holding hands, genius.”

His favorite way to hold you is to wrap his arm around your shoulders or waist the moment you’re within reach, maybe lay his head on you whenever he feels bored or somewhat tired. 

If he’s alone with you in the privacy of your bedroom or his, Ace would go the extra step as to nuzzle into your side while he retells his day to you (as if you weren’t with him a good portion of the day already). 

He words it like a tease, but he really likes it when you would scratch his head whenever he rests his head on you. 

“Now, if you could put your card back anywhere in the deck” 

Ace couldn’t see you roll your eyes as you pushed your chosen card between the deck of cards. Trapped in his arms, you were an unwilling audience to his new card trick. 

Maybe unwilling is too strong a word, but you were more or less trapped as you were situated on the couch with your cheeky boyfriend comfortably behind you, masterfully shuffling his playing cards with you between his arms. 

“Are you sure you didn’t sneak a peek at my card right over my shoulder?” You teasingly accused him and emphasized how close he truly was by combing your fingers into his messy locks that tickled your cheek. 

“Please. As if I’d do something that lame.” Ace let out a huff over your accusation but continued to rest on you. 

After a few rounds of shuffling, the Heartslabyul freshman neatly returned his pack into its box before slipping the whole box back into his pocket. With his newly free hands, he fully encapsulated you by wrapping his arms securely around your waist. 

You looked at your boyfriend with confusion. “What about my card?” 

Ace angled his head slightly to face you just to place a quick peck on your lips before he replied, “Check your pocket, babe.” 

“No way-“

He holds you like something precious, a treasure to cherish with care.

Jamil is not one to indulge in physical affection publicly. There is a place and time for everything, and to hold you only when necessary and discreetly. 

Not exactly touching you, the vice Housewarden would hover his hand over your shoulder or arm, prepared to gently guide you away from danger. He would hold his arm in front of you as a shield should something happen suddenly like an explosion or an especially rambunctious student. Your safety and comfort are prioritized over his own. 

But in the presence of no one else but you, that’s when Jamil finally relaxes and let himself revel in your affection. 

His favorite way to hold you is while he rests on your chest or stomach, his arms holding you tightly as he nuzzled comfortably to your front.

If it’s alright with you, he would like to have your arms wrap him tightly, as though he’s not allowed to leave you for anything. 

Away from his duties, Jamil feels the weight fall off his shoulders as he buries himself in your touch. Somedays, he would let out his gripes to you but most days he’s simply content with resting his eyes while letting your scent soothe him. 

You heard the sound of the door opening and closing, so you lifted your gaze to see your boyfriend sluggishly walking over to where you were, on his bed in his private room. 

The two of you planned to spend the day with each other but Jamil was unfortunately called in for a meeting as the vice Housewarden, so he promised to come back once things were settled. You weren’t sure what it was about, but the exhaustion in Jamil’s charcoal grey eyes hinted that it was somewhat important. 

Wordlessly, you stretched your arms wide open towards your poor boyfriend. 

The long-haired sophomore took up your invitation and dove willingly but carefully into your waiting arms. Jamily sought after your warmth, quickly wrapping his arms around you while nuzzling atop of you. 

While Jamil got comfortable, you got to work on removing his hair accessories for safekeeping. You knew Jamil could so easily remove everything using his magic pen but you asked him to let you do it instead, and Jamil enjoyed your gentle touch too much to say no.  

Suddenly, a loud barrage of knocks came from Jamil’s door with a familiar voice accompanying it. 

“Hey Jamil!” 

The man in question groaned as he recognized the boisterous Asim heir immediately. Jamil proceeded to get up but he was stopped when he realized your fingers were still weaved into his hair. 

“Hi Kalim” you answered instead, to which the man behind the door eagerly replied back in surprise. 

“Oh, hi! I didn’t know you were over!” You could just hear Kalim’s bright smile behind the door. “Is Jamil there? I had an idea for a dance party to help everyone relax!” 

Leave it to a ball of energy to think of a dance party to relax. 

“Can we raincheck on that plan?” You yelled out through the door, your hand playing with Jamil’s soft locks. “I wanted to spend time with my Jamil today.” 

You held in your amusement when you felt your boyfriend fidget in your grasp, most likely trying to hide the embarrassment on his face from hearing you say my Jamil. 

“Oops, my bad. Of course, I’ll just come back later!” 

Hearing Kalim’s footsteps fading away, Jamil’s shoulders fully slumped as you felt his full weight finally rest atop of you. You continued to detangle the exhausted man’s braids, only pausing to laugh from the tickling sensation caused by Jamil's muffled words.

“Thank you, ya rouhi”

[dizscreams]

hobie brown x sunshine reader hc's like that would be so cute like hobie is goth while reader is more softcore ig and "innocent" I feel like he would think that's adorable!!

THIS IS SO CUTE!!

Hobie Brown x Sunshine!Reader HCs — ★

first time you guys met was at a little record shop because i said so

"you got good taste." even if he didn't like that specfic song he would say this anyways, just so he could talk to you!

"really? thanks! i like your piercings, all i have are my ear piercings."

you were the one to put stickers on his guitar and he never took them off bc he loves them

LITTLE CONCERTS IN YOUR/HOBIES ROOM

like you put on a song at full blast and you're dancing and singing around your room with a hairbrush as a little microphone

hobie is just sitting on the edge of the bed watching you with a smile on his face

you making him help you pick out an outfittt

"hobie which dress should i wear? this one is cute cause it has little hearts on it but this one is cute because its really colorful!"

"try em both on, lets see"

you always have your hand on his arm in public or your arms are linked

he doesn't mind it

you both like going on rants so after a long day i can see both of you sitting on the bed just talking about everything while you play with his rings or smth!

he had to get used to all the colors in your room but after he did its his favorite place

adores your smile. makes it his goal everyday to see you smile

if youre a littleee obvlivious then you don't know hes spiderman and one thing he loves is to give you really obvious signals that you wont catch

for example he saved you one time and it went like this

"make sure to keep outta the way, sweetheart"

"wow! you remind me so much of my boyfriend he talks exactly like you and he calls me sweetheart all the time! i think he has that jacket too-"

he just gives you a quick yeah and swings away (under the mask he was grinning like an idiot)

youre always screaming at his concerts and he sends you a wink everytime

you like stealing his band t-shirts even when you dont know who they are

"this shirts cool! im taking it!"

"do you even know what band that is?"

"no.."

short but sweet!

[prentissluvr]

OKAY HERE ARE SOME SAM THOUGHTS BEFORE I CLEAN MY ROOM (some platonic but mostly romantic)

loves getting his hair played with (romantically and platonically)

main love language is quality time

could have this giant on his knees if you compliment constantly (his looks or his personality) (mainly his personality) (he knows and is aware of how conventionally attractive he is but isn’t cocky about it) (like another winchester LOL)

runs warmer than the average human being so he’s your personal heater in the winter

but in the summer you make sure he stays far away from you bc man sweats A LOT in his sleep 😭😭

I HAVE MORE BUT I GOTTA CLEAN MY ROOM

ILL BE BACK LATER WITH DEAN AND MORE SAM 🤭🤭

djhJHFSKDJ SAMMMMM AAA okay okay bear with me while i go absolutely insane LMAO. like this is long LOL so i am gonna add a cw for anyone who stumbles upon our time of feeding each others delusions <3 i got carried away ahahahaha hehehehehe i'm normal about him tho!

wc: 1.6K. cw: kissing, a bit of swearing, brief mention of things trying to kill you bc that's the life lol, unedited

⟢ playing with his hair : do NOT get me started on sam's hair <3 it's always so pretty, and you have to make that known! sure, you do it out loud, but we'll get to the complimenting in a bit hehe. your favorite way of making it known (and definitely his) is by playing with it. constantly. and he can never get enough. sure, he gets embarrassed or picky about it around dean, like he does with just about anything romantic or sweet (mostly because dean won't ever let that sort of thing go un-teased). but he just loves so much to lay his head in your lap and let you thread your fingers through that pretty brown hair <33 it makes him feel so relaxed, and cared for in a way that doesn't feel overbearing or overly obvious.

and he loves it especially it because he knows that you do. he can feel you physically relax from under him when you sweetly run your hands through his hair, gently pulling apart any small knots and taking your time to take care of that gorgeous head of hair. he will also certainly melt and try to hide the pink tint to his cheeks when you reach for his hair unexpectedly, like when you lean in to fix a fly-away strand or full on card your hands through his hair when he's in the middle of research and didn't notice you approach.

also!! put your hands in his hair when he's kissing you!!! please!!! he's begging on his knees!!! god, he loves that so so much and he gets a secret ego boost because, once again, he can physically feel how much you love it too. he'll always kiss you harder when your hands move to tangle themselves in his hair.

gets embarrassed if you put little braids in his hair, especially as he grows older and it grows longer, but he can't resist how much it makes you smile, so he lets you get away with it if dean isn't around. and just imagine putting pretty clips in his hair LOL he pouts and asks you to take them out immediately, but not before kissing the smug grin off of your lips. will die and try his hardest to delete them if you ever get pictures of him like that, but you keep your blackmail well protected hehe.

as for platonically, that is facts! he thinks its very sweet if you're his best friend or sibling! it's not as big a thing as it would be in a romantic relationship, but he'll love to have his hair played with by anyone willing <33

⟢ love language; quality time : this is like almost sad and especially sweet at the same time because the poor boy has no time to spend much quality time with you. but again, this kind of makes this whole thing sweeter because that means each moment is just that much more precious. obviously, he'd love to be spending quality time with you by going on dates in the park, taking you to a nice restaurant that's not too stuffy, or something even as simple as taking you to the movies. but those things are hard to do, so to him, any time spent with you without the presence of something trying to kill you can be turned into that precious quality time.

for him, it's about sitting on the couch with your legs strewn over him or his head on your lap or yours on his shoulder (really any sort of thing keeping him connected to you) as you pour over lore books. it's about the seamless exchange when the two of you figure out how to kill your monster or save the world together. it's about posing as fbi to get answers and slipping his hand into yours when no one's looking or grabbing a decent breakfast together before the start of a busy day. all he cares about, the things he treasures, are you falling asleep on him in the back of the impala because he gave up shotgun to sit next to you, taking months, maybe longer to get through one season of a tv show together, and always taking even just a small moment out of a busy day to be together.

⟢ complimenting him : it's true that he needs less assurance about his looks because he certainly is aware that he is fine as fuck. but let's definitely establish that he adores to hear praise about his looks specifically from you because duh! he's in love with you and you're the only one he cares about!!

but yeah, when you compliment his personality, his sweet, loving, courageous hot sometimes completely idiotic and frustrating self?? oh he's done for. he's honestly far less used to that. when you're half asleep, and you murmur into his chest that you think he's so smart, kind, funny, loving, and brave and that you couldn't be more proud to be his? he's complete mush in your arms, he can't believe it.

"that's all you, baby," he'll refute, and you'll certainly grow bashful under his compliment, but you want him to accept it, at least a little bit. "i mean it, sammy, i really do." your voice is all soft and sleepy, and oh so earnest that he can't help the aching of his heart. "i know you do," he'll whisper, suddenly emotional and not wanting you to hear it. "i'm just glad you think so. i'll always do my best to be those things for you," and that's the kind of thing he only admits when the sole light in the room comes from a dim, clouded over moon and your head is tucked under his chin so you can't see his face. he means it, of course, but he's not used to such vulnerability and blatant adoration.

he'll clench his jaw when you tell him you know that, but that it's true that he's all those things and more for so many people, the few close ones, and all the ones he passes by and does his best to save. he doesn't fully believe you, he's got a lot of guilt built up in that sweet mind of his. and it's true he's not perfect, but you never said that. all you're trying to tell him is that you love who he is, so much, and he can never thank you enough for that.

bonus, he really really loves when you tell him you think he's funny. it's definitely an ego booster, plus he loves loves loves to know that he can always make you smile and laugh.

⟢ your personal heater : this is literally sooo true. he's so big with so much body mass that he'd have so much body heat to give off. but i so agree that on top of that, he'd also totally be on the warmer side. if you're naturally warm as well, then you two are an unstoppable force in the winter time (the both of you are lulled to sleep by the other's body heat in a matter of minutes). either way, he'll always envelope you in hugs when it gets cold because he knows it'll warm you up right away. he doesn't have to ask to know when you're cold, because you'll always press yourself to him, maybe grabbing his arm and pulling it around yourself before even saying a thing to him.

"you cold?" he'll ask sweetly, and after feeling your nod and hearing your muffled "mhmm," he's quick to wrap his other arm around you too and pull you closer.

for the folks with cold hands like me, he's always trying to warm them up with his own. whether you've slipped your hand in to his just to be near and they're particularly chilly, or he can see you trying to warm your hands up yourself, he's quick to take up both of your hands in his to warm them up. when he grabs up both of your hands, he'll pull them to his chest and hold them there until he's satisfied they're warm. he'll look into your eyes and talk about something completely unrelated, all casual as if he's not making you flustered. other times, he'll warm up one hand at a time, encasing it in both of his own, rubbing it and blowing warm air on it before gently slipping it into his warm, warm pockets and moving on to the other.

also, if he finds out your face is cold, he'll cup your cheeks with his large, furnace hands or full on just pull your face into his head or neck to warm you up that way.

but yeah😭😭 summer can be a lot less pleasant. if you manage to have cold hands even in the summer (i could never i wish), he'll try to steal the coolness from your hands and you'll be like oh my god please stop i'll die LOL.

and you're like nooo babe of course i want to sleep with you, you just have to stay as far away as possible and never touch me because it might burn me to death. if he's tired and touch-starved younger sam will pout at you and tell you he just wants to cuddle. later seasons sam just won't take no for an answer and will just pull you to him until he gets too hot himself lmao. he'll make sure there's a fan on you first and a glass of ice water on your bedside. basically he loves that he's warm in the winter because it brings you closer to him, then gets pissed about it in the summer because you don't want him too close unless there's sufficient a/c or some other form of ventilation to make it cooler lol.

[hellsitedotcom]

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ Relationship Headcanons ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

ft. Robin, Firefly, Kafka.

˚₊‧ I've been writing a lot for my favorite men, even though I would drop all of them for a chance with any of these women, lol. So, here's some thoughts on my favorite women of HSR in relationships ˚₊‧

warnings: none - any mentions of kissing/physical touch are really brief; reader has no specified gender.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

‧₊˚✧ [KAFKA]✧˚₊‧

⇢ Not exactly sure why, but when I think of spending time with Kafka - or being in a relationship with her - my brain automatically pictures a more elegant, sophisticated(?) kind of life with her.

⇢ She's the kind to shower you in gifts (preferably clothing, jewelry, accessories like that) - not in a suffocating manner, but whenever she's out and about, she'll find something that she thinks would be perfect for you.

⇢ Secretly adores just spending quality time with you while some classic music is playing in the back - or any other calm, peaceful background music, though she'd definitely prefer something ''instrumental''.

⇢ While she's not necessarily the ''listener'' in your dynamic, she loves just listening to you tell her about your day, or talk about your interests, etc. When it comes to her being the talkative one, she feels...well, as peaceful and secure as she can around you, something that (to people close to her) even reflects in her expression.

⇢ Definitely compliments you all the time. If it's not a direct and obvious compliment, then its ''subtly hidden'' in a sentence she dropped while walking past you, or while you're both just minding your own business while working.

⇢ And, for the people that are fans of kissing and intimacy and such: She loves having an arm around you (or a hand on your lower back). It's her favorite way of showing affection to you regardless of the setting. Privately, she also enjoys kissing your cheek or the palm of your hands, if not even your shoulders. Plus, she prefers spooning you over being spooned.

‧₊˚✧ [FIREFLY]✧˚₊‧

⇢ I'm struggling a little to put into words what I mean, but I see Firefly as someone who leads a more ''calm'' life when in a relationship, while still being...lively.

⇢ Let me try to explain: I see her as someone who will always love going on ''dates'' with you, just nothing overly ''extreme'', like...rock climbing or something (lol). She loves exploring new places with you, going sightseeing or stargazing, or simply watching a theater performance, etc. More...''casual'' stuff.

⇢ She's always full of energy with you, and she loves going to festivals or events with you - and while she does enjoy being there for the sake of the events/vibes, she more so loves spending time with you doing something that brings you both joy/excitement.

⇢ I see her as someone who, while definitely enjoying to get you gifts, does so more rarely and takes her time to find something that's more...personal. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if she'd do a pottery course just to make you a personalized coffee cup or something.

⇢ Has dozens of pictures of you two, be it selfies during dates or festivals, or just random pictures of you...just existing, basically. There's definitely a whole photo album stashed away in a drawer. And, for special occasions, she definitely gifts you framed pictures of you two.

⇢ And, regarding what kind of kisser/touchy partner she'd be: Definitely more shy and giddy when it comes to it. She's always really excited when kissing you, but her kisses are more on the fleeting/quick end. Definitely more of a little spoon, and adores holding your hand - she'll want to hold it anytime she can.

‧₊˚✧ [ROBIN]✧˚₊‧

⇢ I want to be cliché and say that relationships with her seem like straight out of a romance movie or something, and while it would sound somewhat dramatic, I do believe that she has this...gentle, beautiful, soft vibe to her relationships.

⇢ While it's a little harder to have complete privacy in public given Robin's profession & popularity, I feel like Robin would adore going on picnics. She definitely loves picking flowers, being gifted flowers, or making flower crowns. Also, just walking around the city and going through e.g. craft stores.

⇢ I can also see her enjoy watching the sunset/sunrise together. She's a big fan of spending the morning together with you while you prepare breakfast, dancing and singing together with you - the same counts for dinner in the evening. Big on baking cookies and such! And she loves handing a few batches of cookies out to neighbors, etc.

⇢ Definitely a person that enjoys physical touch and quality time. While she loves being cuddled by you, I believe that she prefers being the one to hold you, playing with your hair while she hums a melody (which often leads to you falling asleep in her lap). She feels an incredible serenity while just existing beside you.

⇢ Robin would love to teach you how to play an instrument, or just take you somewhere for you both to learn new skills. Once again, just spending quality time with you is incredibly important to her. When you do learn something new together, she loves having some decoration or anything to display that achievement/memory at home.

⇢ And, last but not least, how she is when it comes to touchiness & kissing: Robin's definitely the most gentle kisser of the Three, though I think she'd be more on the receiving end of kisses - loves when you kiss her nose, makes her giggle. You'll mostly catch her kiss your lips & your forehead. And, she loves holding onto your arm when you're walking around in public. Also a big on hugs.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

[misc-obeyme]

Ah, you want lucifer sub? I have another idea for you then! Feel free to ignore if you had enough nsfw drabbles tho lol Theres a card in NB where lucifer tries to force mc a truth apple or whatchamacallit to see who mc really is, but Beel ended up eating it instead. Anyway in p4 he tries to earn mc's forgiveness by going to the castle for barb's cooking. What if then, at the table, mc remembers that in the og timeline, lucifer and mc constantly played with shibari on each other? Hmm... So then, that's his punishment. Early Avatar of Pride, getting tied up in his own room. Blindfolded Anyway, hope you like the idea. 🍄 Love you CC

Augh, 🍄 anon, shibari is like one of my favorite things ever. It just looks so pretty!?!? And Lucifer is also very pretty????

Yes, I thoroughly enjoyed writing this. I do have that card and remembered this particular Devilgram. It had an excellent line from Barb that I took the time to screenshot and then forgot about until much later. Something about having cake, I don't remember exactly. It's in my posts somewhere lol.

Anyway! Sub!Lucifer is everything to me, so here he is. I like the idea of NB Lucifer specifically not understanding why he trusts MC. He even says in the Devilgram something about how there was a connection between them the moment MC showed up. But this is a minor detail, I just find it interesting.

GN!MC x Lucifer

NSFW MDNI

Warnings: sub!Lucifer, dom!MC, shibari, blindfold, praise, hand job

Lucifer held himself incredibly still. He would not squirm. He would not give you the satisfaction.

It was difficult. He wanted to give in already.

You had spent quite some time carefully tying the black and red ropes around his body. Securing knots, ensuring they were tight but not too tight. Perhaps he should have been anxious as you brought his hands behind his back and tied them in place. Perhaps he should have been concerned when you tied the blindfold over his eyes. Perhaps he should have been worried about how vulnerable he was allowing himself to be with you.

And perhaps he was all of those things. But the fire it ignited in his belly was too powerful to ignore. The thrill of your touch, the way his skin tingled any time you brushed your fingers against it. Knowing that you were seeing him completely exposed, that he was entirely at your mercy, that you were in control of him in a way no one else has ever been.

The ropes rubbed against him, an uncomfortably pleasing sensation. The blindfold was his own tie, which you had utilized for this purpose and its soft silkiness was an exciting contrast to the harsher feeling of the ropes.

When you were finished, you moved away and left him there.

Lucifer was kneeling on his own bed, tied up and blindfolded, waiting for you to touch him again.

He couldn't see himself, but he could imagine the sight. You seemed to already know the intricacies of shibari. The pattern was elegant and complex - turning him into a sensual work of art.

Lucifer waited. He could be patient. He refused to let you see just how affected he was. He couldn't do anything about his obvious erection, which was straining. But he would keep the rest of himself as composed as possible.

"So," you said and your voice was close. "Are you sorry for trying to get me to eat that apple?"

Lucifer hesitated. "I've let you tie me up and blindfold me, haven't I? Is that not proof enough?"

"I won't make you say it," you said. "I could see it in your eyes as I was tying you up. You trust me, don't you? Despite being suspicious of who I am and what my motives might be, you still trust me."

Lucifer frowned. "I don't-"

You pressed a finger to his lips. "You don't need to lie about it. You can trust me, Lucifer. I promise."

Lucifer was about to disagree with you, but whatever he might have said left his mind immediately as you took his cock in your hand. He sucked in a breath. Your hand felt soft, slightly damp with your sweat, which soon mingled with his precum.

Lucifer's resolve not to squirm crumbled. He couldn't hold perfectly still now, his hips moving involuntarily to thrust into your hand. He bit his lip, determined at least not to moan.

"Don't do that," you said, putting your thumb on his lower lip and pulling it gently out of his teeth. "Let me hear you."

Lucifer felt his skin grow hot as the moan he'd been trying to hold back escaped him. As soon as it did, it was as though a dam had broken and he couldn't stop making noise.

"Ah," he cried. "MC, please, ah!"

"Good boy," you said sweetly. "Now come for me."

Lucifer immediately came all over your hand, a strangled cry ripping itself from his throat as he did. Lucifer was panting, his body's muscles relaxing, but he was still tied up so stiffly, he couldn't go anywhere. You allowed him to lean on you long enough to catch his breath.

Lucifer quickly learned that he was far from done with his apology and it was much later into the night before you were willing to forgive him.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[landitolover]

𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍𝒔 𝒐𝒏 𝒇𝒊𝒍𝒎 in which pierre is dating everyone’s favorite singer! ౨ৎ pierre x female!singer!reader

Liked by ynswife, pierregasly, xoxoyn, and 43,789 others

ynupdates Y/n, her first night and her first time playing in paris!! She preformed amazing and gave us a sneak peak of her new song, “dance with me” 🥹 who could this song be about ? 🧐🧐

view all 678 comments..

user why did paris do to deserve this..😐😐 Like wdym they got a sneak peak of her new song????? 😭😭

→ user RIGHT like stop it oui oui bitches.

user she made dance with me for me wdym

user i’d kill to see her live 😭

user what’s happening to me?? 🧍‍♀️-🧎‍♀️-🎸

user PARIS GO SUCK A DICK

user i lost a song i didnt even know i could Lose.

→ user LITERALLY.

user PIERRE SIR WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE

user her outfit is so cute 😭❤️

→ user rightt, shes always eating

Liked by yourbestie, charles_leclerc, and 998,788 others

yourusername thank u france 🥖🥖🇫🇷🇫🇷 love u ❤️❤️🙈🙈

view all 3,479 comments..

yourbestie who is this french man mrs ……. ?!?!?!!!!

→ yourusername Idk i was just kissing a random baguette man i found on the street :///

→ yourbestie ur gonna get a disease from kissing a random french man………

→ yourusername ouch. -french man

user we lost her to a french man ☹️

→ yourusername dw he will never compete with u guys

user IS THIS THE MAN SHES WRITING A SONG FOR?????

→ yourusername thank u to my maaan 🫡

user i can tell pierres hair, and thats his hair in the 3rd pic.

→ user yeah cause that bitch is balding

→ user LMFAO THATS FOUL 😭😭

user the last picture is literally PIERRE.. ARE THEY TRYING TO BE OBVIOUS

→ user right they’re not even hiding it

Liked by yourbestie, yukitsunoda0511, and 345,971 others

pierregasly Over the break 💕

View all 484 comments

yukitsunoda0511 I really like your photographer 😂

→ pierregasly Thanks yuki, I love her too 😂

charles_leclerc Seems like you’ve been having some fun over the break 🫣

→ pierregasly 🤔🤔

user AAAHSOXOSAOS YN YN YN

→ user who is yn and why do people think she’s with pierre??

→ user she’s an artist! you should search her up/ listen to her!!

user pierres soft launch era!! get rid of it. I NEED TO KNOW WHO SHE IS

user i love how yuki is still in these photo dumps ❤️

Liked by pierregasly, yourbestie, and 134,889 others

yourusername hellloooo everybody!!!!!!!! new single out in a few days (yay) it’s called “dance with you” 💌

View all 589 comments

user WE’RE FINALLY GETTING FEED

user EVERYONE SAY THANK YOU TO HER MAN, HE GAVE OUR GIRL INSPO

→ user thank you kind sir we don’t know of

→ user thank you for making our mother write love songs x

→ user THANK 😭 U 😭 YN’S 😭 MAN 😭😭😭😭😭😭

user my prayers have been answered 😭🙏🏼

user CANT WAIT OH MU GOD

user I’m so ready to stream this song everyday and cry.

→ yourusername don’t cry babes 😞❤️ ILY

user LETS GO LESTS GOO WE WON

user cancelling all my plans just in case she calls !!

→ yourusername BACK WHEN I WAS LIVIN FOR THE HOPE OF IT ALL

user GIRL I CANT WAIT U NEED TO RELEASE IT RIGHT THIS SECOND

user this is so AUAAGDUWOQDFC

pierregasly added to their story

seen by ynupdates charles_leclerc 252,676 others

YN 💕

PIERRE OH MY GOD

WHY WOULD U …

BAEB 🙊🤍

I MEANT TO PUT IT ON MY CLOSE FRIENDS I SWEAR

i mean ITS NOT LIKE PEOPLE DIDNT ALREADY KNOW..??

YN 💕

well YEAH.. but I wanted to tell my fans myself 😒

BAEB 🙊🤍

i’m sorry 😞

at least your single comes out in a few days .. ??

YN 💕

😒😒

ok wait

i forgive u 🤍🤍🥖🥖

BAEB 🙊🤍

❤️❤️❤️

Liked by yukitsunoda0511, pierregasly, and 88,992 others

yourusername a very wise man once told me it wouldn’t b a photo dump if yuki weren’t in it … so i kidnapped him so he could be in my photo dump, thanks yuki ❤️🙊🐈‍⬛🥖

tagged yukitsunoda0511 pierregasly

View all 989 comments

user YUKI WHAT ARE U DOIN HERE

→ user more like what is PIERRE doing here …

user i hope yk how to fight pierre fucking gasly

user plot twist what if shes dating yuki

→ user its time to take ur meds babe! all these soft launch pictures we’ve gotten have BROWN HAIR !! does yuki have brown hair ? no!!

→ user jesus girl i was joking .. maybe YOU should take ur meds, insane ass…

user the last photo 😭😭

→ user shes so real fo that though cause what is up with these sassy men

→ yourusername sassy men apocalypse 🧟

user this is by far my favorite post ever cause YUKI LOOKS SO ADORABLE 😞❤️

user i am so SICK. HUST POST YOU AND PIERRE KISSING OR SOMETHING 😭😭😭 PLEASE I CANNOT KEEP WAITING FOR YOU GUYS TO CONFIRM IT YOURSELF. PLEASE YOU GUYS ARE SO SICK AND FUCKIGN TWISTED 😭😭😭😭

→ user preach 🗣️🗣️🗣️💯💯💯

user poor yuki he had to third wheel

→ user wdym yn was third wheeling

yukitsunoda0511 I have a family please let me go

→ yourusername never 😹🙊

pierregasly my little photographer

→ yourusername i should start charging u..

→ pierregasly no … you can’t, I’m broke

→ yourusername you make more money than I do ????

Liked by pierregasly, yourbestie, and 99,192 others

yourusername heeyyoo! “dance with me” out noow…!!! and by the way, I DO really like you pierregasly 🤍🤍🥖🥖��️⭐️

View 1,230 comments

user SHUT UP OH MY GOD

user no…. NO….. I LOST MY WIFE……

user yn does this mean we’ll get more love songs 🎀

→ yourusername oui ☺️☺️🫰🏼🫰🏼⭐️⭐️

user i just fell to my knees in a walmart parking lot

user what if i just 🪦

user you’re so silly bae 😂😂 you and ur a.i boyfriend 😂😂

→ yourusername sorry x

→ user excuse me where can i get a french a.i boyfriend like u

→ yourusername uhm ask yukitsunoda0511 he got it for me!!!!

user DANCE WITH ME STAYS ON REPEAT

user im throwing up

charles_leclerc Does this mean I can’t take him on dates anymore ?

→ yourusername can i take your girlfriend out? cause then the answer is yes charlie 🦎🦎

→ charles_leclerc 🧐🧐 Maybe….

pierregasly dance with me is the best song in existence ❤️❤️

→ yourusername thank u babe 🤍🤍😊😊🫰🏼🫰🏼

pierregasly I’m glad that I can finally post you

→ yourusername I love you 🥹🤍🤍

user AUATAAHH FINALLY

→ user I WON I WON I WON

→ user MY PARENTS

→ user SCREAMING AND SOBBING SO HARD RIGHT NOW

user they’re so ☺️☺️

user I ALWAYS KNEW U WERE MEANT FOR THAT WAG LIFE QUEEN

→ user wait PLS tell me you’ll be at the races 😭🙏🏼

→ yourusername of course! definitely not all of them but i’ll try my hardest to come 💕😊

Liked by yourusername, yukitsunoda0511, and 87,778 others

pierregasly Je t'aime my red panda 🤍

tagged yourusername

View all 767 comments

user HE CAN’T KEEP GETTING AWAY WITH THIS 😭😭

user seeing this makes me feel . DISGUSTED

user if you look closely you can see me violently sobbing in the corner.

user you guys are so cute!!!!!!!!! 😂 (i literally just kms)

user always these damn white men

user my parents 4eva

user yourusername when does the love album for pierre come out babes x

→ yourusername feb 7th 🦎

user the 😭 caption 😭. my 😭 red 😭 panda 😭

user pierre how do u feel after pulling the baddest girl ever

pierregasly amazing cause i ❤️ my gf

user yn bae how long has this been going on !!

→ yourusername 50 years

landonorris LET ME GO TO YOUR CONCERTS YN

→ yourusername of course landobum x

charles_leclerc so cute (yuck)

yukitsnoda0511 you’re welcome for setting you up with her 🙄

→ yourusername THANK YOU SO SO SO MUCH FOR THE MOST WONDERFUL BF EVER YUKI ⭐️⭐️🫰🏼🫰🏼

→ pierregasly THANK YOU YUKI!! I’LL BUY YOU ALL THE FOOD YOU WANT🫡❤️

౨ৎ helloooo ! i hope u like this 😁😁 idk what to say tbh cause this is just a re upload …. I WILL TRY TO POST FOR DULCE HOTLINE SOON 🤓 i’ve been kinda busy tho, sorry ☹️😞

[novaursa]

To Win a Princess (fire and gold)

- Summary: Once you come of age, the realm seeks to curry the King's favor once more by seeking a hand of his younger daughter. You. 

- Paring: targ!reader/Tyland Lannister

- Note: Be aware of the time jumps. This is the last part of the story. Between Pride and Fire will take its posting schedule.

- Rating: Explicit 18+ (for blood and gore)

- Previous part: son's choice

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround @your-favorite-god

The morning sun sneaked weakly through the stained-glass windows of the solar at Casterly Rock, casting fragmented light onto the table where Tyland sat. His brows furrowed as he read the missive in his hands, the wax seal of the Hand of the King—Otto Hightower—already broken. The contents of the letter were audacious, to say the least, and the weight of them settled heavily on his shoulders.

You entered moments later, your gown sweeping softly against the stone floor. The expression on Tyland’s face immediately caught your attention, a mixture of frustration and calculation.

“What is it?” you asked, crossing the room to stand beside him. “You look like you’ve just swallowed something sour.”

Tyland exhaled slowly, handing you the parchment. “It’s from Otto Hightower.”

You took it with a frown, scanning the contents quickly. As you read, your face darkened, your fingers tightening around the edges of the paper.

“An alliance,” you said, your voice cold. “And yet again, he proposes that Rhaella marry Aemond.”

Tyland leaned back in his chair, his golden eyes studying you carefully. “It seems Otto hasn’t given up on securing the Westerlands. He sees Rhaella as a key to solidifying their claim.”

You threw the parchment onto the table with more force than necessary, the sound sharp in the quiet room. “Aemond killed Luke,” you spat, your voice trembling with anger. “He killed my nephew, Tyland. And now Otto dares to propose this… this farce of an alliance? After taking my sister’s throne? It’s an insult.”

Tyland reached for your hand, his touch gentle but grounding. “I know how you feel,” he said softly. “But we need to think carefully about how to respond. Otto wouldn’t send this without a reason.”

“His reason is obvious,” you snapped, pulling your hand away as you began to pace. “He wants to divide us. To pull the Westerlands away from Rhaenyra’s cause and strengthen Aegon’s. He sees Rhaella as a pawn—a tool to secure his power.”

Tyland watched you for a moment, his expression unreadable. “And he’s not entirely wrong. Rhaella’s marriage would hold significant sway over the Westerlands.”

You stopped mid-step, turning to glare at him. “You’re not seriously considering this.”

He shook his head, his tone calm but firm. “Of course not. But dismissing it outright could have consequences. Otto is playing a game, and we need to ensure that our response doesn’t put us in a weaker position.”

Your voice rose, the anger bubbling to the surface. “A weaker position? Tyland, we’re already at war because of Otto Hightower’s schemes! He has no honor, no loyalty. If we even entertain this, it’s a betrayal of everything we’ve fought for.”

“I agree,” Tyland said, standing and crossing the room to meet you. “But we can’t afford to act rashly. Rejecting Otto outright may provoke him into retaliating, and the Westerlands aren’t invulnerable.”

You shook your head, your voice trembling with frustration. “How can you be so calm about this? He’s asking us to marry our daughter to the man who murdered my nephew. The man who defies the very legacy of my family. Of your family now, too.”

Tyland’s expression softened, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek. “Because I have to be calm, Y/N. For you, for our children, for our House. I understand your anger—I feel it too. But anger won’t win us this war.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. “I won’t let them take Rhaella, Tyland.”

“And they won’t,” he promised, his voice steady. “But we need to send a response that makes our position clear without inviting retaliation. Let me handle this.”

You hesitated, your heart torn between anger and trust. Finally, you nodded, though your voice remained firm. “Make it clear, Tyland. Make it clear that House Lannister stands with Rhaenyra. That we will not forgive Luke’s death or the theft of my sister’s throne. And that Rhaella will never marry Aemond.”

He nodded, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “I will. You have my word.”

The two of you stood in silence for a moment, the weight of the decision settling over you. Outside, the faint sound of waves crashing against the cliffs filled the air, a reminder of the world beyond the walls of Casterly Rock—a world teetering on the edge of chaos.

Finally, Tyland returned to the table, picking up a fresh piece of parchment and reaching for his quill. As he began to write, you watched him, your heart heavy but resolute. You had fought too hard and lost too much to let Otto Hightower’s schemes tear your family apart.

The response would be swift, direct, and unyielding. The Westerlands were no one’s pawn, and House Lannister would not be bought.

The sky above Rook’s Rest was a chaotic swirl of fire and smoke, the once-quiet fields below transformed into a battlefield of roaring dragons and clashing steel. The sun had barely risen when Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond sprung their trap, their dragons—Sunfyre and Vhagar—descending from the heavens like twin harbingers of doom. The ground trembled beneath their might, and atop the castle walls, Princess Rhaenys Targaryen mounted her scarlet-scaled dragon, Meleys, preparing to meet their challenge.

But she was not alone.

Out of the western sky came a roar that sent shivers through the assembled forces below. Valtyr, his green-and-gold scales glinting like precious metal, soared into the fray with a ferocious cry. Upon his back, Loren Lannister gripped the reins tightly, his golden hair whipping in the wind. He descended swiftly to join Rhaenys, the younger dragon circling the larger, battle-scarred Meleys like a loyal vassal.

“You shouldn’t be here, boy!” Rhaenys called over the roar of the wind, her voice sharp but not unkind.

“I’m not leaving you to face them alone!” Loren shouted back, his voice resolute. “This is my fight too!”

Rhaenys gave a grim smile, nodding once. “Then stay close and do as I say. We finish this together.”

The dragons roared in unison as the battle commenced. Sunfyre, with his golden scales gleaming in the early light, lunged toward Meleys, his jaws snapping with deadly intent. But the Red Queen was swift, twisting mid-air and lashing out with her claws. The sound of tearing flesh echoed through the sky as Meleys raked Sunfyre’s flank, dark blood spilling like eclipsed sunlight.

Loren and Valtyr dove toward Aegon, who clung desperately to his saddle as Sunfyre reeled from the attack. The younger dragon unleashed a torrent of flame, the green fire licking at Sunfyre’s wings. Aegon bellowed in pain as the heat seared his armor, and Sunfyre faltered, his once-majestic form reduced to a struggling shadow of its former glory.

“Aegon, fall back!” Aemond’s voice boomed from atop Vhagar, his expression twisted with fury. The massive she-dragon surged forward, her ancient wings beating with a thunderous rhythm.

“Not yet!” Aegon roared back, his pride outweighing his pain. But his defiance was short-lived as Meleys struck again, her claws slamming into Sunfyre’s side and sending him plummeting toward the earth.

Aegon screamed as his dragon crashed into the fields below, the impact shaking the ground and scattering soldiers like ants. Meleys circled above, her roar a triumphant challenge, but there was no time to celebrate. Vhagar, older and far more massive, let out a deafening roar and lunged for her.

“Loren, now!” Rhaenys commanded, her voice cutting through the chaos.

Valtyr shot forward, green flames spewing from his maw as he closed the distance to Vhagar. The older dragon turned, her massive jaws snapping inches from Valtyr’s tail. Loren clung to his saddle, the heat and smoke stinging his eyes as he urged his dragon to climb higher, forcing Vhagar to follow.

“She’s too big!” Loren called out, his voice tight with effort. “We need to outmaneuver her!”

“Keep her focused on you!” Rhaenys replied, guiding Meleys into a flanking position. “I’ll strike where it hurts!”

Vhagar roared again, her ancient fury unmatched as she chased Valtyr through the smoke-filled sky. But Meleys was faster, her crimson wings a blur as she swooped beneath Vhagar, raking her belly with a savage strike. Vhagar bellowed in pain, her massive body twisting mid-air to retaliate.

Claws tore through the sky as the three dragons clashed, their roars echoing across the battlefield. Blood and scales rained down like grisly confetti, the once-blue sky streaked with fire and ash. Loren’s heart pounded as Valtyr narrowly avoided another devastating snap of Vhagar’s jaws, the young dragon twisting and diving with desperate agility.

“Hold on!” Loren shouted to himself, his knuckles white as he gripped the reins.

Below, Aemond snarled, his single eye blazing with rage as he guided Vhagar into another attack. “You’ll pay for this, boy!” he bellowed, his voice carrying over the din. “You and that wretched crone!”

Loren’s gaze hardened, his fear replaced by a surge of determination. “Come and try!” he shouted back.

Meleys surged forward again, her claws ripping into Vhagar’s wing. The ancient dragon roared in fury, her massive body buckling mid-air as blood gushed from the wound. But even wounded, Vhagar was a force to be reckoned with. With a final, deafening roar, she lunged forward, her massive weight slamming into both Meleys and Valtyr.

The impact was catastrophic. All three dragons became a tangle of wings, claws, and fire, their riders clinging desperately to their saddles as they plummeted toward the earth. Loren felt the air leave his lungs as Valtyr let out a pained shriek, his body twisting uncontrollably.

“Hold on!” Rhaenys’ voice reached him, her tone frantic.

The ground rushed toward them, the world a blur of chaos and destruction. Loren tightened his grip, his heart pounding as he prayed to the gods for a miracle. Around him, the sky seemed to collapse, fire and smoke consuming everything in its path.

And then came the crash.

The impact was deafening, the earth trembling beneath the weight of the fallen dragons. Dust and debris filled the air, the cries of men and beasts mingling in a cacophony of terror. Loren coughed, his vision swimming as he tried to make sense of the chaos around him.

The world came back into focus sharply for Loren with a blinding pain in his head and a metallic taste in his mouth. He blinked rapidly, forcing his vision to steady as the ground beneath him swayed. Smoke filled the air, and the roars of dragons battling nearby were deafening, their cries reverberating across the desolate field.

When his vision cleared, he saw him. Aemond Targaryen, limping slightly but charging forward with a sword gleaming in his hand. His face was a mask of fury, the sapphire set in his empty eye socket glinting with malevolence. Blood streaked down his armor, and his pale hair was matted with soot and gore.

“You’ve overstepped, boy!” Aemond roared, his voice cutting through the chaos like a blade. “Now you’ll pay the price for your insolence!”

Loren scrambled to his feet, his body aching from the fall, and drew his sword—a finely crafted Lannister blade with a roaring lion etched into the hilt. His dragon, Valtyr, was somewhere in the distance, locked in a deadly struggle alongside Meleys against the massive form of Vhagar. The clash of claws and teeth rang out like thunder, but Loren’s focus was solely on the man bearing down on him.

“I’ll pay no price to a kinslayer!” Loren spat, steadying himself as Aemond closed the gap.

Aemond lunged, his sword slicing through the air with lethal precision. Loren parried just in time, the force of the blow sending vibrations up his arms. Aemond was relentless, his strikes coming fast and sharp, each one pushing Loren further back.

“You think you’re my equal?” Aemond sneered, pressing forward with another brutal swing. “You’re a cub playing at war!”

Loren gritted his teeth, ducking beneath the next strike and countering with a slash aimed at Aemond’s side. The blade bit into the prince’s armor, drawing blood, but Aemond barely flinched. Instead, he laughed—a cold, mirthless sound.

“You have fire,” Aemond said mockingly, his sapphire eye gleaming. “But fire alone won’t save you.”

Their swords clashed again, sparks flying as steel met steel. Loren’s arms ached with the effort of blocking Aemond’s powerful strikes, but he refused to give ground. He could feel the heat of the nearby battle, the earth trembling beneath the weight of the dragons’ struggle.

“You killed Luke!” Loren shouted, his voice raw with fury. “You killed my cousin, and you dare speak of fire?”

“Luke was weak,” Aemond snarled, his strikes growing more vicious. “A boy who couldn’t rise above his weakness. He deserved his fate.”

Loren roared, his anger fueling his movements as he pushed back against Aemond’s assault. He swung with all his might, his blade slicing across Aemond’s shoulder and drawing a spray of blood. Aemond staggered, but his grin only widened.

“Good,” Aemond hissed, blood dripping from his wound. “Show me the lion’s bite.”

Loren lunged again, his strikes faster now, driven by the memory of Luke and the injustice that had brought them to this moment. But Aemond was experienced, his movements fluid as he parried and countered with precision. Their blades locked, and Loren found himself face to face with his uncle, their breaths ragged.

“You’ll never be one of us,” Aemond growled, his voice low and venomous. “You’re no dragon—you’re just a lion cub pretending to roar.”

Loren gritted his teeth, twisting his blade free and delivering a sharp kick to Aemond’s knee. The prince stumbled, giving Loren a brief opening. He swung his sword, the blade carving a shallow gash across Aemond’s chest.

Aemond snarled, his fury evident as he retaliated with a brutal backhanded strike. The hilt of his sword caught Loren across the jaw, sending him sprawling to the ground. Stars exploded in his vision as he tasted blood, but he refused to stay down.

With a groan, Loren rolled to his feet just as Aemond bore down on him. The prince’s blade sliced through the air, grazing Loren’s arm and leaving a deep gash. Blood poured from the wound, staining his tunic and dripping onto the ground.

“You’re finished!” Aemond roared, raising his sword for a killing blow.

But Loren wasn’t done. Summoning every ounce of strength, he surged forward, his sword driving upward in a desperate strike. The blade pierced Aemond’s side, the sound of metal slicing through flesh mingling with the prince’s cry of pain.

Aemond staggered back, clutching the wound as blood seeped between his fingers. His eye burned with hatred, but his movements were slower now, his strength waning.

Loren raised his blade, breathing heavily. “You’ll pay for what you’ve done,” he said, his voice steady despite the pain coursing through him. “For Luke. For all of us.”

Aemond smirked through the blood staining his lips. “We’ll see about that, boy.”

Before Loren could strike again, the ground shook violently as the dragons’ battle reached a fever pitch. A deafening roar split the air, and Loren turned to see Valtyr and Meleys locked in a final, desperate struggle with Vhagar. The three dragons tumbled from the sky, their massive forms crashing into the field with a sound like thunder.

The impact sent a shockwave through the battlefield, knocking both Loren and Aemond to the ground. Loren’s vision blurred as the dust and debris clouded the air, but he forced himself to rise, his gaze fixed on the wreckage of wings and fire.

The battlefield was chaos incarnate. Smoke thickened the air, and the crash of the dragons’ fall left the earth trembling. The clash of claws and teeth echoed across the bloodied field as Valtyr and Meleys struggled against Vhagar, the ancient she-dragon’s ferocity unmatched. In the distance, Aemond and Loren still stood, battered and bloodied, their duel momentarily halted as both stared at the carnage.

And then, another roar tore through the sky—a sound like a clarion call, fierce and unrelenting. All heads turned skyward as Rhaella Targaryen descended on her sleek, sapphire-scaled dragon, Aelirys, his wings cutting through the smoky air like a blade.

Rhaella’s voice rang out, strong and defiant, even over the chaos. “For Luke! For Rhaenyra!”

Her words galvanized the field as Aelirys dove into the fray, his sapphire flames pouring over Vhagar’s side. The larger dragon bellowed in rage, her massive form twisting to face this new threat. Blood already streaked her scales from her struggle with Meleys and Valtyr, but she showed no sign of yielding.

“Rhaella, no!” Loren shouted, his voice cracking with panic. “Stay back!”

But Rhaella was undeterred, her violet eyes blazing with fury. “You need me, Loren! You all do!”

She spurred Aelirys forward, the smaller dragon weaving nimbly through Vhagar’s attempts to swat him from the sky. The clash of dragons intensified as Aelirys struck with his claws, raking deep wounds along Vhagar’s flank. The ancient dragon roared, her massive tail swinging like a battering ram and narrowly missing Meleys, who retaliated with a savage bite to Vhagar’s neck.

Below, Loren turned back to Aemond, his grip tightening on his sword. “It’s over, Aemond,” he said, his voice steady despite the chaos around them. “You’ve lost.”

Aemond smirked, blood dripping from his mouth as he raised his sword. “Lost? Look around you, boy. This is only the beginning.”

With a roar, Aemond lunged, their blades clashing once more. Loren fought with renewed determination, his strikes fueled by the sight of his sister joining the battle above. The clang of steel rang out as the two young men exchanged blow after blow, their movements growing more desperate and brutal.

Above them, the dragons’ fight reached a fever pitch. Aelirys and Valtyr worked in tandem, the younger dragons striking at Vhagar’s exposed sides while Meleys kept her jaws locked on the larger dragon’s neck. Blood poured from Vhagar’s wounds, staining the battlefield below as her roars grew weaker.

“Keep pushing!” Rhaella shouted, her voice fierce as she guided Aelirys into another dive. The blue dragon released a torrent of sapphire flames, the searing heat scorching Vhagar’s already-tattered wings.

But Vhagar was not done. With a final, desperate burst of strength, she twisted her massive body, throwing Meleys off balance. The Red Queen screeched as she tumbled, her rider clinging tightly to her saddle. Valtyr moved to shield her, but Vhagar’s claws raked across his side, leaving deep, bloody gashes.

“Valtyr!” Loren cried out, his heart lurching as his dragon faltered in the air.

Rhaella’s voice cut through his panic. “He’s strong, Loren! Focus!”

Her words steadied him, and he turned back to Aemond, who was breathing heavily, his armor slick with blood. The prince smirked, though his strength was clearly waning. “Your sister has spirit,” Aemond said, his voice taunting. “Shame she’s bound to fall like the rest of your family.”

Loren roared, his sword slashing through the air with renewed vigor. Aemond parried, but the force of the blow sent him stumbling back. “You won’t touch her,” Loren growled, his strikes coming faster now. “You won’t touch any of us!”

Above, Aelirys and Valtyr regrouped, their combined flames engulfing Vhagar in a brilliant blaze. The ancient dragon roared one last time, her movements slowing as her wounds took their toll. Meleys, bloodied but determined, surged forward, her claws sinking into Vhagar’s chest as she drove the larger dragon toward the ground.

Rhaella’s voice rang out again, her tone triumphant. “We have her!”

But Vhagar, even in her death throes, was not to be underestimated. With a final, desperate effort, she lashed out, her massive tail striking Aelirys and sending him spiraling. Rhaella cried out, clutching the reins as her dragon struggled to steady himself.

On the ground, Loren saw his sister’s peril and screamed, “Rhaella!”

Aemond took advantage of his distraction, lunging forward with his sword. The blade sliced across Loren’s side, drawing a deep wound that sent him to his knees. Aemond stood over him, breathing heavily, his violet eye blazing with triumph.

“You’ll die here, boy,” Aemond sneered, raising his blade for the killing blow.

But before he could strike, a shadow passed over them. Valtyr descended like a vengeful spirit, his roar shaking the battlefield as he unleashed a torrent of flame. Aemond barely had time to leap back, the heat singing his armor as he cursed and stumbled.

Loren seized the moment, his hand clutching his sword as he forced himself to his feet. With a roar of his own, he drove the blade forward, piercing Aemond’s side. The prince gasped, blood spilling from the wound as he staggered back.

“You’ll never win,” Loren said, his voice cold as he stepped closer. “Not while we stand.”

Above, Meleys delivered the final blow, her jaws crushing Vhagar’s throat as the ancient dragon fell silent. The battlefield grew quiet, the roars and flames replaced by the crackle of distant fires and the labored breathing of the survivors.

Rhaella guided Aelirys back to the ground, her expression fierce but relieved as she dismounted. She rushed to Loren, who was leaning heavily on his sword, blood staining his armor.

“Loren,” she said, her voice trembling. “You’re hurt.”

“I’ll live,” he replied, his gaze drifting to Aemond, who lay crumpled on the ground, his breaths shallow. “But he won’t forget this.”

Rhaella’s expression hardened, and she nodded. Together, they turned to face the battlefield, the cost of victory heavy on their shoulders.

The morning sun cast a pale light over the scorched and blood-soaked battlefield of Rook’s Rest. The acrid scent of charred flesh and dragonfire lingered in the air, mingling with the cries of wounded soldiers and the low growls of restless dragons. Smoke curled lazily into the sky, a grim reminder of the carnage that had unfolded.

Loren sat slumped against a broken piece of stone, his armor dented and smeared with blood, his breathing labored. His side ached where Aemond's blade had struck, the hastily applied bandages doing little to stem the pain. Nearby, Aemond Targaryen lay barely alive, his once-imposing figure now broken and bloodied. His sword rested a few feet from his limp hand, forgotten in the chaos.

The sound of marching boots echoed through the battlefield as Daemon Targaryen, Jason Lannister, and Corlys Velaryon arrived with their respective forces. The banners of House Velaryon, House Targaryen, and House Lannister fluttered in the breeze, their vibrant colors a stark contrast to the devastation around them.

Daemon rode at the forefront, his silver hair glinting in the light as he surveyed the scene. His violet eyes narrowed as he took in the sight of Vhagar’s broken form, the fallen Sunfyre, and the wounded Valtyr, Meleys, and Aelirys resting nearby. His expression darkened further when his gaze landed on Loren.

“Loren,” Daemon called as he dismounted, his boots crunching against the ash-strewn ground. “You look like hell.”

Loren managed a weak smile, his voice hoarse. “And yet, I’m still breathing. Can’t say the same for Aegon.”

Daemon’s smirk was fleeting as his gaze shifted to Aemond’s crumpled form. “Aemond’s alive,” he noted coldly, striding toward the wounded prince. “Pity.”

Jason dismounted next, his expression a mixture of relief and frustration. “You reckless fool,” he said, crouching beside Loren. “You could have died.”

“I had to,” Loren said, wincing as he adjusted himself against the stone. “We couldn’t let them win.”

Jason shook his head, his tone softening. “You’re too much like your father. Stubborn to a fault.”

Corlys joined them, his sharp gaze assessing the battlefield. “You held them off long enough for us to arrive. You’ve done well, boy.”

Loren gave a faint nod, his eyes flicking to Aemond. “He’s dangerous. If he lives…”

Daemon interrupted, his voice laced with disdain. “He won’t pose a threat. Not in this state.”

Daemon stood over Aemond, his expression a mixture of contempt and triumph. “You thought yourself invincible, didn’t you, nephew?” he said, his tone mocking. “But even the might of Vhagar couldn’t save you.”

Aemond groaned weakly, his one remaining eye fluttering open to glare at Daemon. “You… haven’t won,” he rasped, blood trickling from his lips. “This… isn’t over.”

Daemon crouched beside him, his smirk cruel. “Oh, but it is, Aemond. Your dragons are dead or dying, your brother is ashes, and you—” he gestured to Aemond’s broken form— “are barely clinging to life. Tell me, where’s your victory now?”

Jason approached, his voice measured. “What do we do with him?”

“Kill him,” Daemon said without hesitation, his hand resting on the hilt of Dark Sister. “It’s what he deserves.”

“No,” Loren interjected, his voice firm despite his exhaustion. “Not like this.”

Daemon turned, his expression darkening. “He killed your cousin, boy. Do you really think he deserves mercy?”

Loren met his gaze, unflinching. “I’m not saying he deserves it. But killing him now, when he’s defenseless, makes us no better than him.”

Corlys nodded slowly, his tone thoughtful. “The boy has a point. Executing Aemond like this could turn him into a martyr for their cause. It’s a risk we can’t ignore.”

Daemon’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he rose, his gaze sweeping the battlefield. “Very well. We’ll take him as a prisoner. But I warn you, Loren—if he becomes a problem, his blood will be on your hands.”

Loren nodded, his resolve unshaken. “I’ll take that chance.”

Jason clapped his nephew on the shoulder, his expression proud. “You’ve got the heart of a lion, Loren. Let’s hope it’s enough.”

As the soldiers moved to secure Aemond, Daemon turned back to the dragons. Meleys stood tall despite her wounds, her blood-red scales streaked with gore. Valtyr rested nearby, his golden-green eyes watching Loren protectively. Aelirys perched on a crumbled tower, her sapphire scales shimmering despite the soot and ash.

“We’ve won the day,” Daemon said, his voice carrying across the field. “But the war is far from over. Gather your strength—we’ll need it.”

Loren leaned back against the stone, his gaze drifting to the sky. The cost of victory weighed heavily on his mind, but for now, he allowed himself a moment of relief. 

The throne room sat heavy under the weight of foreboding, its high ceilings amplifying the silence. Queen Alicent sat rigidly on the Iron Throne, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. Beside her, Otto Hightower stood, his face a carefully composed mask, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of unease.

The air grew heavier still as a messenger entered, his boots echoing sharply on the stone floor. He carried a scroll bearing a black wax seal, its edges frayed as though it had been handled with haste. Alicent’s gaze snapped to the man, her green eyes sharp as daggers.

“Speak,” she commanded, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade.

The messenger knelt, his voice trembling as he began. “My Queen… news from Rook’s Rest.”

Otto stiffened, stepping closer as Alicent’s fingers dug into the arms of the throne. “What news?” he demanded.

The messenger hesitated, his gaze flicking between the Queen and the Hand. “King Aegon… is dead. His dragon, Sunfyre, is no more. Vhagar… has fallen as well.”

The words hung in the air like a curse, the weight of them crashing down upon the room. Alicent’s breath hitched, her composure wavering as her mind struggled to process the blow.

“And… my other son?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

The messenger swallowed hard. “Prince Aemond is alive, Your Grace, but grievously wounded. He is held captive by the Blacks.”

A sharp intake of breath came from Alicent, her mask of control shattering for a moment. “No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “No, this cannot be.”

Otto’s jaw clenched, his hands gripping the edge of the throne as he leaned forward. “How did this happen?” he demanded. “How could two of our greatest dragons and their riders fall?”

“The Blacks had reinforcements,” the messenger explained, his voice trembling. “Prince Daemon and his forces arrived after the initial battle. Lady Rhaenys fought valiantly, as did the young Lord Loren Lannister. Together, they brought down both Sunfyre and Vhagar.”

Otto’s face darkened, his voice dropping to a dangerous growl. “Loren Lannister… the lion cub. Tyland’s boy.”

Alicent’s hands trembled as she gripped the throne, her knuckles white. “And Aemond?” she pressed, her voice cracking. “How badly is he hurt?”

The messenger hesitated, his eyes lowering. “He is said to be barely alive, my Queen. His wounds are severe.”

Alicent let out a shuddering breath, her chest heaving as tears threatened to spill. “My sons,” she murmured, her voice breaking. “My Aegon, my Aemond…”

Otto placed a firm hand on her shoulder, his expression cold and calculating. “We cannot afford to falter now,” he said sharply. “This war is not over.”

Alicent’s gaze snapped to him, her eyes blazing with anger and despair. “My son is dying, Father! My eldest is dead! How can you speak of war when my family is being torn apart?”

Otto’s voice hardened, his tone brooking no argument. “Because we must. Aegon may be gone, but Aemond still lives. We must secure him and rally what remains of our forces. If we show weakness now, Rhaenyra will seize the throne completely.”

Alicent stood abruptly, her composure unraveling as she paced the room. “And what of my son?” she demanded. “Do you truly believe they will spare him? That Daemon will show mercy?”

Otto’s silence spoke volumes, his lips pressing into a thin line. Alicent’s hands clenched into fists at her sides, her breath coming in sharp bursts.

“We must send word,” she said finally, her voice trembling but resolute. “To retrieve Aemond. Whatever it takes, he must be brought back to us.”

“And if they refuse?” Otto asked, his tone calculated.

Alicent’s gaze hardened, her grief giving way to steel. “Then we will remind them what it means to cross House Hightower.”

The throne room fell silent once more, the weight of the Queen’s words hanging heavily in the air. Outside, the bells of the city tolled mournfully, their somber tones echoing across King’s Landing. 

The battlefield of Tumbleton was chaos—a sprawling tapestry of fire, blood, and betrayal. The flames of dragonfire consumed the once-prosperous town, casting a hellish glow that turned the night into day. Soldiers screamed as they fell, their cries drowned out by the deafening roars of dragons above.

Belerix, your massive dragon circled high, his piercing roar shaking the earth below. His molten eyes scanned the carnage, nostrils flaring as he breathed in the scent of burning wood and flesh. Seated firmly in the saddle, your grip tightened on the reins, your gaze fixed on two figures above: Daeron Targaryen astride his cobalt-blue dragon, Tessarion, and Ulf the White, the traitorous rider of Silverwing.

“Traitors to the throne, both of them,” you spat under your breath, your voice filled with venom.

From the western flank, Addam Velaryon on Seasmoke rose into the skies, the pale-gray dragon's wings cutting through the thick smoke. Below, Lannister forces, led by Jason Lannister himself, surged forward, their crimson and gold banners streaming as they engaged the green loyalist forces in brutal melee combat.

“Addam,” you called, your voice carried by the wind as Belerix flanked Seasmoke. “We’ll take Tessarion together. Jason’s forces can handle the traitors on the ground.”

Addam nodded, his youthful face hardened by the firelight. “Understood. But what about Silverwing?”

Your gaze darkened as you turned toward Ulf the White, his dragon circling menacingly near Tessarion. “Silverwing is mine.”

Addam hesitated for a moment but trusted your resolve. With a sharp command to Seasmoke, he veered toward Tessarion, his dragon’s roar echoing as he descended on Daeron.

Belerix bellowed a challenge, his massive wings propelling you forward as you locked onto Silverwing. Ulf turned just in time to see your approach, his eyes widening as Belerix unleashed a torrent of blue-and-gold flame. Silverwing twisted mid-air, narrowly avoiding the inferno, but her silver scales were singed, her anguished cry cutting through the chaos.

“Face me, you coward!” you roared, guiding Belerix into a dive.

Ulf snarled, his voice carrying over the wind. “You’re outmatched, Princess! You’ll die like the rest of your family!”

Belerix’s jaws snapped inches from Silverwing’s tail, his claws raking across her flank as the two dragons collided. The impact sent shockwaves through the air, the force nearly unseating you from your saddle. Silverwing shrieked, her blood splattering onto the battlefield below.

Ulf drew his sword, shouting obscenities as he tried to maneuver his dragon. “You think you can stop me? I’ll carve your name into this battlefield!”

“Try it,” you hissed, guiding Belerix into another strike. The massive dragon slammed into Silverwing again, his claws digging into her side as his teeth sought her vulnerable neck.

Below, Addam and Seasmoke engaged Tessarion in a deadly dance. The cobalt-blue dragon twisted and turned, her flames lighting up the sky, but Seasmoke was faster, darting in and out of range with precision strikes. Addam shouted commands, his voice filled with determination as he fought to bring down the younger prince.

Jason’s forces surged through the town, cutting down loyalists and securing key positions. The clang of steel on steel and the cries of dying men filled the air, the ground beneath their feet slick with blood. Jason himself was in the thick of it, his golden armor gleaming as he struck down a charging enemy with a swing of his blade.

Above, Belerix and Silverwing continued their brutal clash. Ulf swung his sword wildly, his strikes falling short as you deftly guided Belerix out of range.

“Enough of this!” you shouted, your voice filled with fury. “Belerix, end it!”

Your dragon roared in response, his massive jaws closing around Silverwing’s neck in a bone-crushing grip. The silver dragon thrashed and screamed, her wings flailing as she struggled to break free. Ulf cursed and shouted, his sword clattering uselessly against Belerix’s armored scales.

With a final, deafening crunch, Belerix severed Silverwing’s throat, her lifeblood spilling onto the battlefield below. Ulf the White screamed in fury and despair, but his cries were cut short as Belerix’s claws raked across his body, tearing him from his saddle and casting him into the inferno below.

You stared down at the lifeless form of Silverwing as she plummeted to the earth, your breath coming in ragged gasps. “One traitor down,” you muttered, turning your gaze toward Tessarion.

Meanwhile, Seasmoke and Tessarion clashed viciously, their roars shaking the heavens as their riders dueled with words and weapons. Addam pressed the attack, his dragon’s agility proving superior as Seasmoke’s claws raked across Tessarion’s wings.

“You’ll regret this, bastard!” Daeron shouted, his voice filled with rage. “You are nothing but a pretender!”

“And you,” Addam retorted, his voice cold and steady, “are a usurper.”

You guided Belerix toward the fray, your dragon roaring as he joined Seasmoke in the assault. The combined might of the two dragons overwhelmed Tessarion, who let out a final, pitiful cry as Belerix’s flames engulfed her. Daeron screamed as he was thrown from his saddle, his body consumed by the fire before it ever hit the ground.

The battlefield fell eerily silent as the last of the Green forces were routed. The sight of their prince’s lifeless body and the fallen dragons broke their spirits, and they fled in droves, leaving Tumbleton to the Blacks.

You landed Belerix near the center of the town, his bloodied claws sinking into the scorched earth. Addam dismounted Seasmoke, his face pale but resolute as he approached.

“It’s done,” he said, his voice heavy with exhaustion.

You nodded, your gaze sweeping over the battlefield. “Tumbleton is ours. The traitors are dead.”

Jason arrived moments later, his armor smeared with blood and soot. “We’ve secured the town,” he reported, his tone grim. “What’s left of it, anyway.”

You dismounted, your legs trembling as you steadied yourself. 

The three of you stood amidst the wreckage, the weight of your victory tempered by the knowledge of what lay ahead. The dragons roared one last time, their cries echoing across the desolate battlefield as a reminder of the price of power.

The sun rose slowly over the horizon, painting the sky in hues of crimson and amber, an ominous prelude to the events unfolding below. The roar of Balerix, your sapphire-and-silver dragon, reverberated across the expanse as he flew alongside Syrax, Rhaenyra’s golden-hued dragon. The capital of King’s Landing loomed ahead, its walls and towers casting long shadows over the city. Smoke curled lazily from chimneys, but soon, a darker smoke would rise to mark the beginning of a new rule.

Below, Corlys Velaryon led his fleet into Blackwater Bay, their sails emblazoned with the seahorse of Driftmark. Beside him marched Daemon Targaryen, his dark armor glinting menacingly as he led the ground forces—a combined force of Velaryon soldiers, Lannister bannermen commanded by Tyland and Loren, and the remnants of loyal troops from the Riverlands.

The sight of the dragons overhead spread panic through the streets of King’s Landing. Smallfolk screamed and scattered, soldiers on the walls froze in terror, and bells began to toll—first as a warning, then as a call for surrender.

Rhaenyra’s voice carried through the wind as she turned to you, her silver hair whipping around her face. “This city will fall today, sister,” she said, her tone cold. “And with it, the Greens.”

You nodded, your gaze fixed on the Red Keep, where banners of green still flew defiantly. “Otto and Alicent will answer for their crimes.”

As the dragons descended, Syrax let out a piercing roar, her flames scorching the gates of the city. The wooden beams and metal hinges glowed red-hot, the force of the fire splintering them apart. Balerix followed, his sapphire flames engulfing the surrounding walls, sending defenders scattering.

The gates gave way, and Daemon's forces surged forward, the sound of clashing steel and war cries filling the air. Corlys’s ships unleashed volleys of arrows and flaming projectiles, striking key positions along the harbor to prevent reinforcements from arriving by sea.

As Syrax and Balerix soared above the city, their shadows casting fear onto the panicked masses, you followed Rhaenyra’s lead toward the Red Keep. The Keep stood defiant, its towering walls a stark reminder of the Targaryen dynasty's strength. But today, that dynasty was fractured, and you were here to reunite it by fire and blood.

“Hold back no longer!” Rhaenyra commanded, guiding Syrax to land in the courtyard. Soldiers scrambled to take defensive positions, but their resolve wavered as Balerix landed beside her, his massive form dwarfing them.

You dismounted, your armor gleaming in the morning light. “Surrender!” you shouted, your voice echoing off the stone walls. “Or face the wrath of the dragons!”

Some dropped their weapons, their courage faltering in the face of certain death. Others charged, desperation driving their actions. But Syrax and Balerix were swift, their flames cutting down any resistance as the Targaryen banners were hoisted in place of the green.

As you entered the Red Keep, the halls were eerily quiet, save for the distant sounds of battle. Rhaenyra led the way, her gaze sharp as she approached the throne room. The doors creaked open, revealing Alicent Hightower standing at the base of the Iron Throne.

Alicent’s expression was a mixture of fear and defiance as she stepped forward. “You have no claim here, Rhaenyra,” she said, her voice trembling but firm. “This throne belongs to my blood.”

Rhaenyra’s eyes narrowed as she approached, her presence commanding. “Aegon is a dead usurper. You knew this, Alicent. You orchestrated it. And now, it ends.”

You stood beside your sister, your hand resting on the hilt of your sword. “The city is ours. The Greens have lost. Stand down, or face the consequences.”

Alicent hesitated, her gaze flickering to her daughter. Helaena clutched her children protectively, her eyes wide with fear.

“This is madness,” Alicent said, her voice breaking. “The realm will burn because of you.”

Rhaenyra’s voice was icy. “The realm burns because of you.”

With a final, piercing glare, Alicent dropped to her knees, her Helaena following reluctantly with her chidlren. The sight filled you with a grim satisfaction. The Greens were defeated.

Outside the Red Keep, the banners of House Targaryen flew high once more. Daemon and Corlys entered the gates with their victorious forces, their armor bloodied but their spirits high. Tyland and Loren dismounted nearby, their expressions weary but relieved.

Tyland approached you as you emerged from the Keep, his eyes scanning you for injuries. “You’re unharmed,” he said, his voice heavy with relief.

You nodded, resting your hand on his arm. “It’s done. The city is ours.”

Loren joined you, his youthful face hardened by the realities of war. “And the Greens?”

“On their knees,” you replied, your gaze shifting to the distant horizon. “But this is just the beginning. The realm won’t accept this easily.”

Daemon strode toward you, his smirk faint. “Let them challenge us. We have dragons, and now, we have the throne.”

The sky above King’s Landing was thick with smoke, the scent of victory mingling with the cost it had demanded. As you looked upon the city, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of what lay ahead.

An excerpt from "The Dance of Dragons: A History of the Civil War Between Targaryens" by Archmaester Vaenion

The union of Tyland Lannister and Princess Y/N Targaryen, though initially questioned by many, emerged as one of the most pivotal alliances during the Targaryen civil war. Their partnership, built on mutual respect and shared purpose, not only shaped the course of the Dance of Dragons but also cemented a lasting legacy for both House Targaryen and House Lannister.

Princess Y/N’s betrothal to Tyland Lannister was, at first glance, a surprising match. A calculated maneuver by King Viserys I, it was seen as a strategic alliance to bind the powerful Westerlands to the Iron Throne. Yet, what began as a political union quickly grew into a genuine partnership.

Tyland, known for his cunning and practicality, was often underestimated compared to his boisterous twin, Jason Lannister. However, it was Tyland’s sharp mind and unwavering loyalty that won over the Sapphire Princess. Their secret romance, whispered about in the halls of the Red Keep, became public when King Viserys formally announced their engagement. Their marriage, celebrated with great splendor, brought the Lannister banners into Queen Rhaenyra’s fold when the civil war broke out.

The War and Their Role

While many questioned the decision to involve the Westerlands so heavily in the Dance, Tyland and Y/N proved to be invaluable to Rhaenyra’s cause. Princess Y/N, with her dragon Belerix, was a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield. Her decisive actions at Tumbleton, where she struck down the traitor Ulf the White and Prince Daeron Targaryen, marked a turning point in the war. Her sapphire flames engulfed the battlefield, earning her the title "The Sapphire Flame" among her enemies.

Tyland, meanwhile, played a more subtle but equally vital role. His ability to manage alliances, supply lines, and logistics proved critical, especially during the retaking of King’s Landing. It was said that while Rhaenyra and Daemon wielded fire and blood, Tyland wielded the quill and coin, ensuring their campaigns could continue.

Their children—Loren, Rhaelle, Kevan, Alysanne, and the youngest, Jaeryn—represented the unity of their houses. Loren, the rider of Valtyr, and Rhaelle, who bonded with Aelirys, carried forward the legacy of fire and blood alongside their parents.

Challenges and Triumphs

The war tested their bond, particularly when Loren Lannister defied his mother’s wishes to fight alongside Daemon Targaryen at Harrenhal. Tyland, ever the mediator, balanced his wife’s fiery temper with his measured reasoning, ensuring the family remained united despite the chaos. This dynamic—Y/N’s unyielding passion and Tyland’s calm pragmatism—became the cornerstone of their relationship.

Their support of Rhaenyra came at a cost. Tyland’s defiance of Otto Hightower and the Greens led to threats against his family, forcing him to flee with Y/N and their children to Casterly Rock. Their return to King’s Landing, victorious, marked a triumph not only for the Blacks but for their union as well.

A Legacy Forged in Fire

In the aftermath of the Dance, Tyland and Y/N worked tirelessly to rebuild what the war had destroyed. They strengthened alliances, secured trade for the Westerlands, and ensured that House Lannister’s role in supporting Rhaenyra’s reign was not forgotten.

Tyland’s legacy was one of intellect and resilience, a man who proved that strength came in many forms. Y/N, with her dragon and her unwavering loyalty to her sister, embodied the indomitable spirit of House Targaryen. Together, they were a testament to what could be achieved when fire and gold were united.

Their story is remembered not as one of mere political convenience, but as a tale of partnership, love, and the unbreakable bonds forged in the crucible of war.

[mochinomnoms]

Hi hi friend,

If it is not too much trouble I would like to make a request for your event? I think I would like Floyd with prompt 14- “I'd rather have the thorniest, pesticide ridden roses grow in my mouth before I'd ever admit having any sort of affection for them!”

They/them for Yuu is fine with me, I was thinking romantic? Where maybe it's obvious to everyone but Yuu how requited their feelings are.

I've really liked reading your writing and hope you continue to have fun doing it (♡°▽°♡)

floyd leech x gn!reader [tags] – fluff, mutual pining [wc} – 3,659 prompt 14: “I'd rather have the thorniest, pesticide ridden roses grow in my mouth before I'd ever admit having any sort of affection for them!” note - hahahahahhahahahahaha i did not mean to write so much but i went a little buckwild and i think floyd deserves to be allowed to be soft sometimes a floral inconvenience

Lavender roses - Introduced in 1900, lavender roses represent love at first sight. They’re often given to someone to convey that the giver was immediately smitten and fell in love. 

You’d decided to attend a karaoke event the Mostro Lounge was hosting to introduce the new spring menu. It was meant to be a nice, relaxing hangout with your friends from Heartslaybul as you listened to your friends attempt to show off their mediocre singing skills. 

Ace was in an especially good mood, happy to tease you as you waved happily at Floyd, who’d returned your affections. 

“Oi, oi, oiiiiiii, Prefect? When you gonna say something? Kinda tired of dealing with you puking petals every—OW!”

You snorted as Deuce smacked Ace upside the head, muttering about him being an asshole. 

“Leave them alone Ace, unless you want to be collared for harassing a member of the student body?” Riddle reprimanded, giving Ace a harsh glare as he turned to you instead. 

“You can ignore him, Prefect, you don’t have to say anything to that good-for-nothing merman! I’m sure you could do much better anyways.”

You chuckled, enjoying the soft banter between the group. It was particularly nice seeing Riddle interact more casually with his peers, even if you weren’t able to convince him to sing with you. 

“Are you sure you do want to go up with me?” You pouted leaning in close to the red-headed housewarden. “I’ll even let you pick the song—”

“Out of the question.”

You sighed, resting against the plush cushions of the booth while Ace and Deuce bicker about which song would be better for a duet. This was nice. 

It was nice, up until Floyd decided to take part in the festivities. Somehow he’d snuck behind you and Riddle, snatching up your friend with a gleeful cackle as he screeched. 

“FLOYD! PUT ME DOWN THIS INSTANT—”

“Nah, it’s fine Goldfishie, I need ya for just a sec!”

Floyd placed Riddle in a seat, front and center at the stage, as he climbed up. The cool blue spotlight suited Floyd’s features as he grinned. 

Picking up the mic from its stand, Floyd announced, “Alright! This song is for my favorite little fishie in the whole entire school, so you all better enjoy it!”

You expected him to start singing a silly pop song, one with high energy and beats. Or one that became a meme on Magicam last week, something about flamingos and turning pink. 

Instead, the upbeat, suave tunes of a familiar song started playing. A familiar love song. 

“Is…is this ABBA?”

“Who?” Cater asked, recording the scene with a stifling giggle as Riddle turned redder and redder in embarrassment (and most likely rage) as Floyd continued to serenade him. 

“This is ‘Lay Your Love’ by BABA, a classic from the 80s—”

“No it’s called ABBA back home—wait, WHY IS FLOYD SINGING A LOVE SONG TO RIDDLE!?”

Your screech startled the surrounding tables, drawing attention that you were too jealous to focus on. Floyd made eye contact with you, hearing your yelling. Continuing to sing—quite nicely you’d hate to admit—the eel mer winked and smirked, drawing an ire that you didn’t know you had. 

“What the hell? Floyd!” With the vindication of a scorned lover, you stomped to the stage and swiped the microphone from Floyd’s hands. 

“Floyd, what are you doing?” you spoke into the mic, glaring daggers at the tall beanpole of an eel turned man, who looked unbothered at your angry presence.

Floyd took the mic back and answered, “I’m trying to win my mate back—DON’T GO WASTING—”

“What mate?” You yanked the mic back while Floyd followed suit, though this time you kept both hands on. It became a tugging match as you both tried speaking into the mic before the other took it back. 

“Goldfishie.” You could hear Riddle scream at that. 

“Riddle’s not your mate! I’m your mate—” You snapped your mouth shut, the mic feedback and your last words echoing through the lounge, mocking you. 

Floyd had a large, smug grin on his face, his sharp teeth gleaming under the bright lights of the stage. You were now very aware of the packed lounge, and of the students spectating. 

The mic was slowly pulled back to Floyd, who gleefully asked “Oh~ Say that again?”

“Nuh-uh.” 

You shook your head furiously, trying to pull back in order to run off and curl into a hole from embarrassment. Floyd’s grip on the mic and your hands tightened, preventing your escape. 

“That’s fiiine,” Floyd pulled out a small device from his pocket, lightly tapping it on the mic. “I have it riiiight ‘ere.” 

Suddenly, a recording of your voice looped into the mic: 

“I’m your mate—I’m your mate—I’m your mate—”

He recorded it. 

“Oh my god…” You looked at Floyd in horror, who was still grinning ear to ear, like a cat that got the mouse. 

“HehehehehehahahAHAHA!” Floyd’s giggle turned into a cackle as he launched at you, mic and recorder abandoned on the floor. Between the ear-splitting squeal of the mic hitting the ground and a 6’2” man tackling you, there was little time for you to defend yourself as your lips clashed, teeth clattering against one another from the brute force.

His long arms wrapped themselves tightly around your waist, dipping you down dramatically as he broke your kiss to instead leave wet kisses on your cheeks, nose, forehead, and every other piece of skin not covered by clothes. 

Ace and Cater’s cackles could be heard amongst the now growing laughter, whistles, and jeers of the crowd. You think you could even make out someone yelling at your two to get a room. 

“—off the stage! Get off the stage, both of you!” 

Ah, it was Azul. Who was stomping over the shoo you both off the stage, giving Floyd a particularly harsh whack on the head with his staff. 

“Ow, fuck that hurt!” Floyd whined, scooping you up with his left hand and cradling you to his chest. “Cool it Azul, don’t harsh my vibe—”

“I don’t care! Go make out in your room! This is a lounge not a brothel!”

“Fiiiiiine,” Floyd adjusted his grip to instead throw you over his shoulder, amused by how limp you’d gone in his grasp. “Come on Shrimpy! I got something fun in mind~”

His sentence and teasing tone made you flush, images of you and him in bed flashing through your mind. 

“W-wait, Floyd, what are we gonna do?”

“You’ll see, ahahahehe!” Floyd’s giggled echoed through the hallway as he quickened his pace. It was only a few minutes before you realized that you two had made it to the dormitory halls. 

Floyd kicked open his door, the hinges squeaking from the force. He marched over to his bed, grabbing at your waist to no doubt throw you on it before pausing. 

“Oh yeah.” Like a sudden realization hitting him, Floyd grabbed the corner of his bedsheets and shook them, clothing, books, and crumbs no doubtedly flying off. 

Once satisfied, Floyd hummed and once again grabbed your waist, this time committing to throwing you on the bed, which bounced under you. 

“AaaAaaAAAah—FLOYD!” You yelped, face turning redder as Floyd caged you to the bed. He looked at you with a hungry expression, licking his lips at the sight of you. 

“Wait-wait Floyd, gimme a sec—” you stammered, crawling backwards until your back hit the headboard. “—this is all very very sudden, I—wait!”

Floyd crawled after you, trapping you with his long arms, leaning down until his lips were lingering over yours. You shut your eyes in anticipation, waiting for his hands to grab at your clothes and tear them off. 

A soft, tender meeting of the lips. Floyd pressed his mouth against yours, swiping his tongue into your mouth, to which you returned with flustered confusion. The kiss was with such gentleness that you had to open your eyes to confirm that it was indeed Floyd kissing you. 

Olive and yellow eyes were closed, a blissful smile on his lips as he broke your kiss, instead pressing almost chaste pecks to your cheeks, down, your neck, and over your shirt where your heart was beating away. 

Floyd pressed his right ear to your chest, listening to the increasingly rapid pounding against your rib cage. His arms moved from trapping you against the bed to trapping you against his body, wrapping around your back and tightening while his lanky legs tangled between yours. 

You weren’t sure what to do with your own hands, once he had settled laying on you. Hesitantly, you reached to lace them through his hair, pushing the strands back to get a better view of his peaceful face. Admittedly, seeing Floyd in such a state, blissful and sweet, was beautiful. 

His smile grew slightly as you combed through his hair, nuzzling his nose into your chest. Into your heart really. 

“Hmm? What’s wrong?” Floyd opened his yellow eye, gleaming at you in amusement. “I just wanted to cuddle, did ya have somethin’ else in mind? Haha!”

He moved to prop up his chin, smirking at you as he teased, “Didn’t think ya had sucha dirty mind, if you wanna ‘do it’, all you had to do was ask—”

You shoved his face back into your chest looking away in embarrassment, feeling his giggles vibrate through you. 

“Shut up, ugh!” You pouted, grumbling, “You set me up! Ugh! How’d you even know that would work?”

“I heard you.”

“Huh?”

“Talkin’ to Lil Goldfishie,” Floyd moved so that instead of laying on top of you, he was curled into your side with his head nestled at the crook of your neck. “When you got the flower sickness.” 

You looked at him with shock. That conversation with Riddle happened nearly three months ago in between classes. 

Specifically, it happened a few weeks after winter break, when you were catching up Riddle to your “adventure” in Scarabia, after which small lavender roses started blooming along your freckles, their thorns scratching your skin.

“And then, he launched us waaaaaay into the desert!” You animatedly waved your arms around as you recounted your fiasco over winter break. “We were trapped, but then Kalim used his unique magic to fill a dry riverbed with water and then!”

Riddle raised a brow at you as you began gigging with a soft blush. “Jade and Floyd had to turn into their merforms, so me and Kalim had to hold on to his back, but when I wrapped my arms around his chest, and he held my hand to steady me! ”

Your friend rolled his eyes as you started to silently squealed in your seat, sighing.

“Are you going to finish? I have better things to do than listen to you babble about Floyd of all people. Honestly,” Riddle huffed, “I don’t understand what you see in that riffraff!”

“He’s not a riffraff!” You quipped, frowning as you crossed your arms. “He’s actually really sweet if you give him the time of day, Floyd just likes being able to have fun with others you know!”

“Even then, his mood swings don’t terrify you? He gets rather violent sometimes.” Riddle took a sip of his tea as you shook your head. 

“No, I mean if you just go with the flow it’s fine, plus that just makes him more exciting to be around! Plus we’ve been getting closer ever since Azul’s overblot…”

You smiled softly as you looked down at your lap, fondness growing in your heart like blooms on a warm spring day. 

“He can actually be quite sweet, once you get to know him…you just have to give him a chance.”

The two of you remained quiet, the only coming from the distant chatter of other students in the more populated areas of the guest lounge.

“I’m safe to assume then that he is the reason you’ve started sprouting the roses?”

Your soft pink blush deepened as you nodded, picking at the small flower that began blooming on your cheek. 

“Yeah…”

“When will you confess, then?” You looked at Riddle in shock, who seemed confused at your distress. “What? It’s obvious that you have strong feelings for him, and even I notice how especially clingy he is around you.”

You shook your head, stuttering, “Well, yeah but that’s—”

“I’ve even heard him refer to you by name, he only does that with Jade and Azul you know?”

“You don’t understand Riddle.” You tried to interject, growing more flustered by the second. “I don’t think I could—”

Riddle continued, “As much as I disapprove, it does seem that you two genuinely bring out the best in each other, he does seem softer when you’re around—”

“Oh my—Riddle, stop—”

“—And you’ve gotten more outspoken, I remember how shy you were—”

“I’m begging you—”

“—Besides, according to the Queen of Heart’s rule number 478, any romantic feelings must be confessed approximately 12 days upon their discovery or the individual in question obligated to deny—”

“I said stop, Riddle!” You yelled at the top of your lungs before choking on rather large bouquet of lavender roses. Leaves and petals fluttered all around you as you continued to let out rough coughs, phlegm and saliva making a mess. 

Your yell startled the red-head so much that he simply started at you with a red face and thinned lips, too shocked to properly yell back at you for raising your voice indoors. 

Instead, he carefully placed his tea cup on the table between you two, folded his hands in his lap, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. You on the other hand, peaked around the dividers separating your nook from the rest of the lounge. 

Ace and Deuce looked over in concern as you continued to cough out more roses, walking over before you shook your head and gave them a thumbs up before shooing them away and turning back to Riddle. 

“...sorry Riddle.” You whispered, looking at him nervously. “I didn’t mean to yell, don’t be mad?”

“It’s…fine.” He replied with a strained voice, taking a final inhale before opening his eyes again and making eye contact. “You shouldn’t have yelled, and I shouldn’t have pushed.”

Riddle sighed, relaxing into the soft lounge chair. Though he would deny when asked, the chair that he helped you pick for the guest room was is favorite spot to sit in, as it surprising comfortable. 

“May I ask why you refused? It’s quite obvious to anyone that you care for him immensely, for some forsaken reason, and I would even say it’s quite mutual.”

You avoided eye contact as he resumes sipping from his tea, a lemon tea with 2 sugar cubes for his post meal tea. 

“Yeah…that’s what the other first-years say too. Even Jade’s been dropping hints on mer courtship gifts.”

“Then? What’s stopping you? 

A pregnant pause was in the air as you open and closed your mouth, attempting to figure out what it was that scared you. 

“What if…he gets bored?” 

Riddle furrowed his eyebrows as he leaned in, barely able to hear you. 

“What if he what?” He sighed, a bit irritated. “Speak up Prefect, I know you can, you just did earlier.”

You groaned out, “What if he gets bored with me? I’m fun and interesting now, yeah!”

Your friend watched, and you began pacing around the room, holding his head in his hand as he watched and listened to you vent. 

“I’m just a silly little magicless human that got transported from another world! Big whoop! What happens when that novelty wears off? You've heard him, he only likes to do things that are fun and interesting to him, but I won’t always be fun and interesting, eventually he’ll get used to me and get bored.”

You turned to look at Riddle with a teary-eyed, but firm look. “He’s get bored and leave me. I can’t handle that! So I just won’t be with him. In fact, I'd rather have the thorniest, pesticide ridden roses grow in my mouth before I'd ever admit having any sort of affection for him!”

Your voice began to crack as you stated your final sentence, snapping your mouth shut before you got begun crying. Riddle stood up and walked over to grasp your shoulders, looking at you with an understanding smile. 

“The sort of person that would abandon a lover simply because they’re bored never deserved one in the first place.” 

Riddle hummed in agreement as you sqeaked out a ‘really?’, giving you a soft pat on your shoulder. 

“Of course, I can’t say I don’t understand your hesitance, Floyd is…Floyd, after all. However, he is not my friend, you are. If you choose to forfeit your right to confess, then so be it.”

You smiled as he dragged you back to your seats, giggling as he continued, “I personally would say it’s no lost on your part, he’s not exactly the most prime candidate for your life partner should you be stuck here in Twisted Wonderland, may I suggest one of the many more suitable providers?”

“Pfft-like who? You?” you cackled as Riddle looked at you in mild horror. 

“Oh dear, of course not! I admire you as a friend, but I have much stricter standards for a partner.” He snapped his fingers in revelation. “Perhaps Ace or Deuce, you are rather close to them—”

“Ewwwww, pass. They’re like annoying brothers!” 

Riddle snorted before covering it up with a cough. “True. Trey?”

“If you’re just going to suggest your dorm members, maybe we should switch the conversation to something else.”

“Well I think my dorm produces only the best and most gentlemanly mages of all of NRC, so excuse me if I’m simply trying to give you the best options!” 

You and Riddle shared some laughter, a flash of teal catching the corner of your eye. But you saw nothing, so instead you focused back on Riddle as he began recounting his own winter break activities.

You remained quiet as you processed your thoughts, finding the lilac ceiling to be particularly interesting. 

Floyd also stayed quiet, still curled into your side as he breathed in your scent. You’re sure that with all of the flowers you’d started coughing up in the last few minutes, you smelled strongly of the lavender roses. 

“You know…I was gettin’ real mad when you wouldn’t confess to me.” Floyd whined, propping his head up with his hand to look at you and your pink face. 

“I thought it would be nice to get a cute confession out of my little shrimp,” He pinched your nose and forced you to look at him. “It be real fun! Like those cringy romcoms landfolk like so much!”

You replied, nasally due to your pinched nose, “Wait, is that why Jade was telling me about mer courting methods?”

“Haha! Yeah, I was hopin’ that you’d bring me a pretty seashell or somethin’ cute so Icould make fun of ya for later.”

You let out an indigent huff, smacking Floyd’s hand away as he laughed. 

“Really? So what made you change your mind?”

“Hearing ya talk to Goldfishie. It pissed me off that you’d think I’d toss you out like humans at sea with their trash.”

Floyd’s tone changed, looking  visibly annoyed as he continued. 

“Mers mate for life, and I wouldn’t choose someone I’d get bored with.” He sat up as his mood continued to sour. “It pissed me off, and it hurt, that my Little Shrimpy would think about me like that.”

“Oh, Floyd,” you sat up with him, guilt seeping in your bones as you looked at his angry face. Though, with the small tears forming in his eyes, Floyd looked more frustrated than anything. 

“I’m sorry, I-I didn’t think—it didn’t occur to me that you felt the same—”

“Well I do, and it’s not fair to me that you wouldn’t even give me a chance.” The way Floyd said that so matter of factly made you snap your mouth shut again, looking down at your lap instead. 

“I’m…sorry, Floyd. I wish I could make it up to you—”

Floyd interrupted, moody demeanor brightening suddenly. “No worries, I got just the solution!”

Crawling over back to you so that your back met the headboard again, Floyd grinned maliciously at your curled form. 

“Say it.”

“Huh?”

“Say it. Those three little words.” Floyd held up three fingers to emphasize his point. “The ones that will make all those little flower go right away, the ones you need to say to me.”

You stiffened, leaning away from Floyd as he leaned in. “I don’t know if I can—”

“Say it, Y/N.” The use of your name startled your attention back to his face. He looked unusually serious, peering his heterochromic eyes into your own. If you didn’t know any better, you could’ve mistaken him for his twin. 

You whispered, prolonging the inevitable, “What happened to Shrimpy?”

“Shrimpy was Shrimpy, but now your Y/N. And Y/N is Y/N…”

The two of you shared a smile as the distance between you two continued to close. You couldn’t remember what was so pressing earlier, why you were so anxious when the yellow eye of the man in front of you produced nothing but adoration from your heart. 

“Please…” From the uncharacteristic soft murmur to the eyes darting down to your lips and back to your eyes, Floyd drew you back in with a hypnotic ease that only the most alluring of mythical creatures could even hope to imitate. 

The two of you leaned in as you placed a hand on his chest, his own left hand coming to cradle your own. 

You craned your head back to hover your lips under his, uttering the words you swore to never let leave your mouth. 

“I-I…love you, Floyd Leech.”

A single lavender rose grew between your palms, as two longing hearts met as one.

[monimccoythings]

Cuteness Overload

Just saw the movie. What a masterpiece. And (spoiler warning) I'm glad they did Charles Martinet justice even though I still think it should have been him voicing Mario. And of course, I'm in love with Jack Black's portrayal of bowser, excellent representation of a good creepy and psychotic villain that stole the entire movie. I loved it so much I'm writing a Y/N fic (My favorite little hoe, but this time is more on the platonic side). This contains a huge spoiler for the movie, specifically the ending. I'd recommend to watch the movie first.

Next Parts: 2, 3, 4, 5

So, a couple of weeks ago your entire neighborhood got destroyed because of some epic anime battle that just casually happened over there. How cool is that? Or how horrible, because thanks to that you just have to take the biggest detour ever known to man to get to work. But hey, at least you had a nice walk.

You getting into the mushroom kingdom was entirely by accident. Yes, you were curious about that new world but never had the time or will to go on a transdimensional travel. Thank goodness there was an open sewer hole laying there (which you completely missed) to help you take the initiative.

If you didn't took into account that nightmarish journey through the tunnels, the Mushroom Kingdom was a pretty interesting place to be. The toads were very friendly and kind fellas, some of them carefully checking you out for injuries and advising you to go see the princess in order to help you get safely home.

Okay, forget about the journey through that cosmic rabbit hole, going up to the castle was way worse. You didn't remember having exercised that much, not even in P.E. You swore your vision was blurry after all that.

Princess Peach was the most loving, kindhearted badass you had the pleasure to meet. That kind angel sent down from heaven upon seeing your miserable state, generously offer you to step in for tea and pastries, while the royal doctor (another toad but this cutie came with a stetoscope and a labcoat) made sure you didn't had seriously injured yourself with the fall.

As dignified and courteous she tried to act. It was obvious she was very excited to meet another person from Brooklyn. Soon you found yourselves engaged in conversation. It felt easy talking to her, like you were talking to an old friend. You suddenly felt very glad you didn't see that sewer hole.

Mario and Luigi stopped by as well, and the second they opened their mouths you recognised them as those two dudes from that dope ass commercial. So they were the ones that were in the middle of the battle in Brooklyn. Good for them, you were glad things turned out great.

You were having the time of your life, they were really chill and easy going people, which put you more at ease. As time passed, you heard the faint sound of a piano being played. When you asked your new friends about it, they just shrugged and Princess Peach gave you a half smile saying that it was her "pet turtle".

Whoah. This was truly a magical place. Her pet turtle played the piano?? And very well by the sound of it. Peach asked you if you wanted to see it. Of course you wanted to see it! Mario and Luigi gave each other uncertain looks, but in the end they just shrugged it off.

After a long walk through the hallways you finally reached a room. The toad guards immediately stepped away when they saw their ruler approach, but gave you a look full of suspicion. Peach softly reassured them.

She opened the door for you and let you in. The room wasn't any different from the castle except that it was completely devoid of any furniture but a single golden cage with THE TINIEST TURTLE PLAYING THE TINIEST PIANO YOU HAD EVER SEEN.

Said turtle was now looking perplexed and midly annoyed that it had been interrupted, but its eyes lighted up when they landed on Peach, who suddenly looked very done and tired. But how could you notice when its mere sight alone was too much for you to bear.

It was SO CUTE. SO DARN CUTE. Cuteness overload. You had died and were sent to adorable heaven where tiny turtles played teeny tiny pianos. You made sure to tell it that several times, making Mario burst out laughing. And it got even better from that moment, because out of that turtle mouth came the most colorful collection of threats and insults in a HIGH PITCHED voice that made your heart melt. Because of course it, he, had a high pitched voice. That only made you gush out more, you loved animals but specially you absolutely adored reptiles.

Mario was literally holding himself against the wall to keep himself from falling for laughing so hard. Luigi was cry laughing and Peach was trying to cover her face, but it was clear that from the way her shoulders rose and went down that she was practically wheezing.

You asked Peach if you could hold him for a while, to which she seriously, or at least she tried to sound serious in the middle of all that laughter, answered that it was too dangerous to let him out. But how could something as darling as that do any wrong? Peach gently pulled you out of the room, but not before you let out a "Bye bye, piano playing turtle, I love you." To a very blushing and mortified turtle.

Turns out that the turtle had comitted war crimes. Very bad war crimes. And even though he was still a little cutie to you, he got what he deserved and shouldn't be let out under any circumstances. Still, you were def going to visit him again.