#so when i imagine casting i have this scenario where i get to be all noble and artistic and not cast The Name right give a newcomer a chanc

[doingrottenwork]

.

[sfznyxio]

-ˋˏ WILDEST FANTASIES ˎˊ

SYNOPSIS. you are irresistible and a source of temptation, especially in his imagination.

CHARACTERS. oikawa tooru, hanamaki takahiro, matsukawa issei, iwaizumi hajime

CONTENT. f!reader. canon-compliant, post-timeskip (2021). smut. 1.8k wc. rewrite of wildest fantasies at my old nsfw blue lock group blog @/bllk-after-dark, moved to haikyuu for an age-appropriate cast. reader is in a relationship with all except makki. seijoh 4 imagine how they would fuck reader. other warnings vary for each section and will be listed there instead because uh, it’s a lot.

VERA. sorry, the power of horny took over. i never read the manga, so i went with the seijoh 4 as the scenarios suit them the most. i struggled with makki and mattsun, so they may seem ooc. i guess I'm celebrating kinktober with this fic lol.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. OIKAWA TOORU

breeding kink, creampie, edging, fingering, jealousy (toward a teammate and kageyama), marking

mine is written on your skin with invisible ink. oikawa fumes at a player from his team talking to you, seemingly enjoying his company when he sees you laughing. he doesn’t experience rage often, but it can get worse when the infamous “king of the court” from the opponent team strikes up a conversation with you.

“what’s with the silent treatment, tooru?” the drive to the hotel is tense, and he treats you like a ghost. he also feels similar, for different reasons. when the two of you arrive at your room, he pins you down on the door with arms above your head and cunt on his knee. lust clouds his eyes as his tongue battles against yours and teeth nips at your throat, leaving a trail of bruises in its wake. 

“craving attention from him, out of all people when i’m here? i’m hurt.” you gasp at the friction of his knee on your cunt. his fingers slip inside, pumping them agonizingly slow as punishment. “think he can fuck you like this? hah, want everyone and that brat to know you’re mine.”

to prolong this type of behavior, you decide to instill delicious images in his head. “oh, how are you gonna show me off then? you’ve already done the hickeys. but what about a ring on my finger? or your cum out of me? or perhaps, a baby in me?”

oikawa pulls his fingers out when you’re nearing an orgasm. the impulse to buy a ring with his salary and propose you live, fuck you in the locker rooms to mark you with his cum, and knock you up so that guy can mind his damn business. he spends the entire night ramming his cock in you to make sure it takes.

“there you are! i had to ask one of your teammates where you were, but he’s so nice that i lost track.” oikawa is back at the court, dazed from his daydreaming. you didn’t notice him blanking out as you’re busy geeking out about his plays. “watching a match live was so exciting! i finally got to see your sets up close. one of the guys from the other team was your underclassman, right? i think he’s good too!”

he shuts you up with a kiss, and the audience reacts in a domino effect. the cameras pan to the two of you; his fans freak out that he is actually taken, and his teammates — as well as him — are in pure disbelief. you wonder why he did that. he looks proud of himself so you say nothing. “there. now the whole world knows.”

𝄞༉‧₊˚. HANAMAKI TAKAHIRO

begging, mutual masturbation, nipple play, phone sex, thoughts of oral sex (f!receiving), toxic relationships (with reader’s ex)

relief washes over him hearing that you broke up with ex over the phone. hanamaki never liked them to begin with, nor does he understand what you see in them. being the good friend he is, he remains civil, painfully. though it’s not as painful as suppressing his sinful thoughts about you squirming under touch, however.

“hey, makki. can you do me a favor?” he loves your voice. you saying his name is his greatest weakness. though it’ll be better to have you moan it in his ears when he rails you into a begging mess. now he feels guilty for harboring these feelings as he promised to only play as the ‘good friend’. but promises break eventually. “can you make me forget about them?”

the lines of friendship blur into indescribable tension. you express your frustration over lack of spice in your sex life, rambling about how badly you want to be fucked on someone’s mouth. the cries of your breasts and clit aching to be touched makes his cock to strain in his pants. sex isn’t a topic you confide in with your friends, but it does not matter now. you called him to forget after all.

“to tell you the truth, you’re driving me crazy,” he sighs with his head on the board while he pumps his length. labored breaths and whimpers are heard on your end. “what if i tell you i’m jerking off to you now, wishing i was inside that pretty pussy of yours? and what about you, wishing my mouth is there too and on your pretty tits to claim what has been mine in the first place?”

“i’m yours, always yours!” your whines turn into squeals, which has him cum on his hand. his body slumps over the edge of his bed, catching his breath alongside you. if you’re here, he would leave more proof that you are forever his with your ex nonexistent in your world. yet it’s all white noise. the entire time he has been spacing out, so you were waiting for an eternity for him to say something.

“hello? earth to makki?” hanamaki realizes the dried stickiness on his hand from his cum. he has been mindlessly jacking off to your voice. “i asked if you could do me a favor but i’d rather stop by your place to cool off. is it okay if i come over?”

“yeah. see you.” you thank him before hanging up. hanamaki tosses his phone away, contemplating what he has done. never, ever will he do this again and vows to not speak on it. all he can do is to maintain his role to comfort you through your breakup. he will do whatever it takes to prove he is indeed the better choice. there will be the day where you’re his for the taking.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. MATSUKAWA ISSEI

body worship, lap dance, lingerie, riding, sex toys (vibrator), strip tease, voyeurism

speechless is his reaction to you clad in lace lingerie. matsukawa develops a strong urge to impale you on his cock that is strained in his pants, just like how his arms are at the sides of his seat. for now he can only ogle at your body, a temptation for him to give into his desires, along with your alluring expressions.

the lingerie surprise tips him over the edge. he follows your fingers trail from your breasts to your clit, agonized by the drag of one of them along the lips back and forth. he grips his seat so hard he could feel the bones of his hands break. oh how he wants you so badly, but being the menace you are, you insist to stay patient until the end of your performance.

“not yet. keep your eyes on me.” you lift his chain to face you, with your mouth ghosting over his. how can he also enjoy the sight when you are torturing him with the sway of your hips, the flex of your thighs, and the bra straps hanging off your shoulders? and when you grind on his bulge with a vibrator in you which is your source of pleasure instead?

he finds himself matching your rhythm with an arm around your waist and the other cradling your head, kissing you as if his life depends on it. as clothes fly left and right, he yanks out your vibrator coated with your slick and finally plunges you onto him, having you seated for his show. how the tables have turned. now you’re the one being tortured, pounded with quick upward thrusts from him.

“now for the grand finale.” despite your protests to slow down, he wants to relish your body which is contorting in pleasure through the mirrors. a multitude of thrusts later, he reaches his climax and feels you clench, making sure you didn’t miss a single drop. it’s a shame that time goes by fast, because he sure wants to see your body arch for him over and over again.

“you know, it’s rude to stare without saying anything.” loud noises flood his ears. matsukawa is at the mall with you to help you buy new clothes to spice up your wardrobe. though when you mean by ‘spice up’, he does not expect to see you in lace lingerie at the fitting rooms. “so, uh… what do you think?”

matsukawa thinks that you may have a hidden agenda to seduce him, or just trying out the lingerie for fun. he marvels at how it suits your body, making you nervous. an idea pops into his head and whispers into the shell of your ear. “hm, not sure. why don’t you buy and put it on tonight for me so i can see it better?”

𝄞༉‧₊˚. IWAIZUMI HAJIME

aftercare, consent, insecurities, loss of virginity, missionary, petnames (baby), praise

sorry is your automatic reply when iwaizumi hints at wanting sex. you’re a virgin, so thoughts of being unable to satisfy someone experienced are rooted into your head. on the contrary, it’s a massive turn on. since it is your first time, he wants to make it extra special. he’s more excited than he should be so he tries to tone it down to not scare you.

you stare at him like a lost puppy as your partner reaches for your face. he smirks at how entranced you are when his fingers glide to your chin and then over your lips. he kisses you hard that you’re out of breath and pushes you to the bed. you begin to breathe normally again as he takes off his shirt, making his heart flutter, knowing that his body is for your eyes only.

“you can keep going,” you tell him when he checks up on you. with the slight encouragement of his hand drawing circles on your skin, you take off your shirt as well so he can explore more of your body. the two of you eventually strip yourselves bare while devouring each other with tongue and spit.

“squeeze if you want to stop.” your hand is intertwined with his, getting ready to signal for the sake of your safety. he penetrates you slowly, cock buried to the hilt inside, blabbering about how you’re taking him so well and swearing he’ll cum sooner than expected. the pitch of your moans is rising higher and higher. you hate how your sounds it seems by crashing your lips on his, but it tells him that he has done his job right.

“shit, baby. you’re absolutely perfect for me. how is this possible— agh,” iwaizumi hisses as he spills inside you. you’re now exhausted, sensitive from the caresses on your curves and kisses on your hands. this is what he would like to happen, however the next time he blinks, you’re lying beside him fully clothed.

“haji? you’re not saying anything.” you avert your gaze from his. you’re ashamed of literally pushing him away, believing that he’ll take offense judging from his silence. “i didn’t mean to do that. it happened so fast that i freaked out. can we start over and… start a little bit slower?”

“sure. let’s take things a little bit slower.” iwaizumi kisses your forehead to reassure you that you haven’t done anything wrong. somehow you’ve become bold, initiating the kiss and sneaking your hands under his shirt unconsciously. you retract from the sudden move, but he gestures to you to keep going. he’s so weak for you; he’ll do anything to make you happy.

[queenendless]

😷🤒Sick Day(Adult!SatoSugu x Sick!Fem!Reader)🤒😷

A/N: Yep this is part of that SatoSugu Teacher AU alongside Moving Day and Nights.

Also, announcement. I have smut writing fatigue after just putting out one and I'm down with a cold right now. So that vampire AU gang bang piece is happening next month. I'm so sorry for this yall. Thanks though to everyone who commented on that and helped me decide.

But I will hopefully be posting a JJK Halloween piece to make up for it. A headcannon/ imagined scenario where the JJK cast celebrate Halloween with my ideal fave pairings in couples costumes and such in this what if AU. And yas it gonna be SatoSugu x Fem or GN reader, idk on that part yet.

All credit for JJK and its characters goes to the madman that is Gege.

* Please DON'T plagarize, translate, or repost my FANFIC content. Reblog, like, and follow instead.

I hope you enjoy!

Your throat feels raw.

Your nose feels stuffy.

And you kept coughing every few minutes.

You should have figured spotting a curse forming from a virus epidemic happening in the hotel across the street would pose a high ass risk of getting infected yourself.

But as a Window, it was your job, as life risking as it was.

The more people inside and around the building got infected, the Grade 4 grew closer to Grade 3. If it kept up, dozens upon hundreds would die.

"Ijichi-san. Disease curse. Transitioning from Grade 4 to Grade 3. Requesting sorcerer help here immediately." You struggled speaking over the phone as you kept coughing, dispatching the address to him, seeing the revolting curse grow in size as its toxic presence spilled, tripping as you tried keeping your distance.

Your head was pounding and you could barely focus as Ijichi-san panicked on his end.

"L/n-san!? L/N-SAN!"

In a moment of ailment, you dropped your phone, causing it to disconnect from the impact.

You were barely able to keep a grip on your phone or walk without faltering as you felt more drained with each passing moment. You blinked a lot as you tried staying alert, stumbling before collapsing against a parked empty vehicle on the street, sliding down to your bum just to rest your aching head against your knees, hugging your legs to your chest.

That curse's smogs began spreading down the streets, into traffic, and nearby occupied establishments.

Believing help wouldn't get here in time through the systematic process, you opted for your wild card, shakily picking up your now cracked screen device.

"Toru. Curse problem. Get here ASAP. Please." Texting the address in your feverish haste, you pressed send before curling in on yourself, welcoming sleep to rest your aching self.

In just under the next few minutes — more like moments — you felt a boom in the cursed energy atmosphere, that curse no longer being sensed. At last, it was done.

The shift from freezing metal to cozy soft fabric stirred you awake a bit. Along with the feel of solid warm arms draped around your shoulders and under your knees. Those big smooth hands squeezing your shoulder and your kneecap had you tugging weakly on the front of that top, pressing your face against your makeshift pillow, struggling to open your eyes as your hearing painted the picture for you in the meantime.

"A majority will spend weeks recuperating. The ones closest to the cause will spend months in the hospital at best. Still though, no casualties. Thank you for the help." High chances it was one of the many medics on site for post cleanup.

"You can thank the young woman here for that. She was the first responder, after all. I'll tend to her recovery myself. Sayonara." You know that voice right away, even when he was muffled, relaxing further in his hold.

"This cold isn't going away anytime soon. Too bad reversed cursed techniques don't make the common cold go away." Your half lidded eyes still had him swooning at how frail and precious you were in his arms.

You murmured, noticing him in his black long sleeved top, matching sweatpants, and face mask with the blindfold. "Blindfolded giant." That's when you realized a face mask was put on you as well, your muffled coughs hitting cloth.

You could already picture him beaming, grinning, as he laughed a bit.

"Correction. Your blindfolded giant, darling~ Now then, let's get you home."

°•○•°•○•°•○•°

Geto typing away on his computer, working on his latest reports.

Gojo straddling his lap, hugging him as he napped against his dear best friend slash hubbie.

The former smiling fondly at the motion before picking up where he left off was their situation before both men's phones began vibrating and ringing.

"Geto-san! L/n-san has reported a disease curse spotting! But she was cut off before I could get further details!"

"She just texted me the location." The sleepiness was wiped away, replaced with firm seriousness, as Gojo started getting off of him to get some shoes on.

"Ijichi-san, do not fret. Satoru will handle the curse." Geto calmly responded over the phone before speaking concerningly to his snowy-haired hubbie. "Toru, bring a face mask in case the affected area reaches where you land post teleport."

Said man smooched his hubbie in kind before slipping on the black face mask to match his current apparel. "Wait up for us, Sugu~"

Seeing you both back, teleporting into your home office, Suguru smooched Satoru the moment he took that face mask right off. Pressing the back of his palm against your forehead to double check for a fever, Suguru's dismay was warranted.

So being there when you awoke from your fever dream tucked in the middle of your guys' giant bed meant Suguru patting your now sweating forehead with a wet rag, you trembling from chills raking your skin followed by feeling warmer the next minute as you coughed into a tissue he handed to you.

"Well dearest, you've got yourself a nasty cold here." Suguru noted with a gray face mask on as well, seated by you on his side of the bed.

"Ah bah." Your raspy spat earned you a cough into your fist before you were offered a filled up water bottle by Satoru who was sitting behind you on his side; blindfold off but face mask back on.

"Welp, I exorcized the curse and brought your cute self back here. Plus I got that report to work on in your precious stead. So you're welcome." He gently ran his fingers through your hair to ease you in whatever way he could.

"Thank you Toru." You slowly sat up and were then handed some cold pills by Suguru to down some water with. "Thank you Sugu."

"Now that we've made our home Ground Zero, you are hereby confined to this room. Drink plenty of fluids. Take your medicine. Get lots of rest. Do you hear me, young lady?" Suguru's smart ass tone made you pout.

"Yes mom." You murmured raspy.

Satoru snorted behind his face mask to which Suguru whacked him in the shoulder across from him with narrowed eyes. "At least Megumi and the twins are living in the dorms now and Tsumiki was able to convince her classmate to stay at her place for a while. Meaning we three have the place to ourselves~"

"Does that mean … I have to sleep by myself?" You whimpered, cracking their resolve. "Neither the Gojo Geto bears, nor the Gojo Geto cats, not even the Gojo Geto giant round plushies can substitute for the real deal." You moped, pointing at said custom made toys lined up on the window seat on the far side of the room.

"Aww, Suguru, how can we deny our lovely sweetheart the company of her valiant handsome knights in the flesh, huh~!?" Satoru dramatized his own cries, muffled though.

Suguru sighed, consigning. "At least one of us should. Who else will be teaching the first years in the meantime?"

"Round robin, then? Last one left standing tends to that noble martyr and gets our dear sweetheart to be their own personal nurse in the end … huh …" That hum and those inquiring eyes could only bode mischief. "I volunteer Suguru to go first!"

"Not gonna happen, Satoru." He immediately denied.

"But to be fed by, bathed by and be doted on by our angel is heaven sent~!" Satoru gushed.

"Which is why you shouldn't be the only one getting that special treatment!" Suguru being jealous at possibly being left out on that.

"Hey!" Your strained shout ends in a coughing fit, curled up in bed, sniffling to which Suguru hands you a big enough tissue to blow your nose in. "I'm dying here."

"Hmm … Yu could fill in." Satoru suggested.

"He is working as a teaching aid part time. And he did say he could help out whenever we needed it." Suguru added.

"Plus Nanamin is on a business trip for the week~ He'll need something to do while waiting for his beloved's return~!" Satoru teased.

"That settles it then." Suguru was smirking behind that mask, you could just tell.

"How lucky you are, darling, to have the strongest duo be your own personal nurses~" Satoru was so smirking his ass off.

"Even though you'll literally get sick of me?" You shyly asked, squeezing your bottle, apprehensive.

"We have strong ass immune systems, Y/n. Comes with over a decade of immense training." Satoru prided on, kissing your flushed cheek.

"If we can risk ourselves in the face of death as sorcerers, this is nothing." Suguru assured, kissing your other flushed cheek. "I'll call Haibara."

"I'll start up a bath for us all. Thank you big ass bathtubs." Satoru clapped to that.

"What do I do?" Even when sick, tilting your head and batting those eyes made the duo smooch your lips at once.

"Just be a good little patient for us, alright, honey?" God that wink of Suguru's left you more hot than usual as he walked off to make that call.

"Besides, being sick with you means being granted a sick leave and getting paid for it! Ah, thank you, my darling sweetheart~!" Satoru did hug you, nuzzle his face in your hair, and left you a wheezing mess.

"Y - You're w - welcome!"

Well, on the bright side, at least you'll all be sick together.

Snuggled in bed, among discarded tissues, wrappers of cough drops, and smooshed in one big embrace of entangled limbs while binging nothing but sitcoms, movies, and anime.

You would eventually get better in a week's time then later tend to your two enamored, affectionate partners and get them back into tip top shape.

But until then, being in their cozy arms, sleeping smack dabbed in between them, that might as well be the key on your quick road to recovery.

The SatoSugu cure, indeed!

[novaursa]

Hello:) I love your writing and I saw that you're still taking requests, so I wanted to ask if you'd be interested in writing about my idea??

So the whole idea is Cregan x wife!reader where (before her marriage) she was from a more southern house that's closer to Kings landing (Tyrell, Lannister etc. you can choose)

Now, the main plot is that she wants to help during the war, but she's not that good at fighting and also has no dragon. However, she wants to prove that she can help.

So she fakes/has a little argument with Cregan and then, after a cute goodbye, infiltrates the greens in Kings landing.

There, she acts as if she's no longer close to cregan because he is a black supporter and because of her previous house, she's a green loyalist (in reality, she's team black and a true lady stark)

While she's there, she infiltrates them and sneaks information to cregan and rhaenyra etc. While both of them (or at least cregan worry about her)

Larys and aemond are obvi kind of suspicious of her.

You can choose how you want this to end. If it's angsty because she gets caught or happy even though she got caught, or maybe she doesn't get caught at all. You can choose, with your writing, I'm sure you'll find a great solution:)

The whole scenario is inspired by "She Wolf" by shakira (I hope you know the song😅)

For the rating 16+/18+ depending on the violence/gore/sexual themes.

(Also I wanna thank you for actually considering and writing about my idea for your harwin story "chasing the inferno". I was the anon)

I hope the idea isn't too confusing. Have a great day :)

The Silent Game

- Summary: When your family took the side of King Aegon II, the usurper, you felt the need to support the rightful Queen and your husband, the Warden of the North. No matter the cost.

- Paring: lannister!reader/Cregan Stark

- Note: For more of my works, visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top.

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Word count: 8 000+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff

- A/N: I hope this is what you had in mind. 🙂 That idea you had (about Chasing the Inferno) was brilliant. And just what I needed to continue the plot, as my imagination was at the halt at that time. And I know that song. I was in my Shakira era when it came out. 😄

The North had always been a place of bold contrasts: the cold and the warmth, the silence and the howling winds, the dark nights and the flickering lights of Winterfell. You were still adjusting to these contrasts, even after months of marriage to Cregan Stark, the Warden of the North. Your union had been one of strategy, a lioness from the Westerlands joining forces with the wolves of the North. But in time, your marriage had grown into something deeper, something that transcended the cold calculations of politics.

Yet now, as the war between the Greens and the Blacks brewed, you found yourself increasingly restless. Winterfell felt like a prison, even with its ancient walls and the comforting presence of your husband. You longed to be more than just a silent supporter; you wanted to take action, to show Cregan that you were his equal in all things, that you could be the lioness who fought alongside the wolves.

But Cregan’s attention had shifted, as it often did with the coming of autumn. The Wall and its endless duty had consumed him, and the war in the south seemed a distant concern compared to the threats of the North. It was a reality you understood but did not accept. You needed to contribute, to show your devotion to him and his cause—Rhaenyra's cause.

Tonight, as you sat by the fire in your shared chambers, the flames casting long shadows across the stone walls, you decided to act. You would provoke Cregan, force him to send you away, to the very heart of the enemy’s territory—King’s Landing. There, you could serve as his eyes and ears, a lioness among snakes, sending back crucial information to the Black faction and to your beloved husband.

The plan was simple in theory, but your heart clenched at the thought of deceiving him, even if it was for a greater purpose. You had to make him believe that you no longer wished to stay in Winterfell, that you felt suffocated and out of place in the North. The thought of causing him pain was unbearable, but you knew it was necessary.

Cregan entered the chamber, his dark hair still damp from the cold air outside. His grey eyes softened when they met yours, and he offered you a small smile as he moved to sit beside you. His presence was comforting, a reminder of why you had fallen in love with him.

"You've been quiet tonight," he observed, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate with the very stones of Winterfell.

You looked into the fire, gathering your resolve. "I’ve been thinking, Cregan. About our place in this war."

He frowned slightly, not out of anger but concern. "Our place is here, in the North. The Wall needs me, and Winterfell needs its lady."

His words were reasonable, grounded in the reality of your lives, but they ignited the spark of frustration you needed to fuel the argument. "And what of the war in the South? What of Rhaenyra? Do we not owe her our loyalty? Our support?"

Cregan’s brow furrowed further as he regarded you. "We support her, but our duty is here. The North is vast and unpredictable; it cannot be neglected."

You stood up, letting your anger seep into your voice, even as it tore at your heart to speak such words. "I am a Lannister, Cregan! My brothers are in King’s Landing, one serving on the Small Council of the Greens. How can I sit here, idle, while they plot against Rhaenyra and our cause?"

Cregan stood as well, towering over you, his expression a mix of surprise and hurt. "You would leave Winterfell? Leave me?"

The pain in his voice nearly broke your resolve, but you pressed on, knowing this was the only way. "If it means contributing to this war, then yes! I am not some helpless maiden to be kept in the North while the world burns. I want to fight, to serve, to show that I am as much a Stark as I am a Lannister."

His eyes darkened, and for a moment, you feared you had gone too far. "You think I don't need you here? That I don’t want you by my side?"

You softened your tone, taking a step closer to him. "I know you do, Cregan. But I need to prove my worth, not just to you, but to myself. Send me south. Let me be your eyes and ears in King’s Landing. I can be of more use there than I am here."

He looked away, the muscles in his jaw tightening. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the battle between his desire to protect you and his understanding of the larger game at play.

"I cannot send you into the lion’s den, not when your brothers are part of it," he said finally, his voice strained.

You reached out, taking his hand in yours. "They are my brothers, yes, but they are also men who have chosen the wrong side. They may not trust me, but they will allow me close enough to gather information, to play the part of the loyal sister while serving Rhaenyra and you."

Cregan’s gaze returned to you, searching your face as if trying to find any hint of doubt. "This is dangerous. You know that."

"I do," you whispered. "But I am willing to take that risk for you, for our house, for our future."

He closed his eyes, his grip on your hand tightening. "You ask too much of me," he murmured. "But how can I deny you when you speak of duty and love in the same breath?"

You felt a tear slip down your cheek, quickly brushed away before he could see. "Then you will send me?"

Cregan opened his eyes, the decision made but the weight of it clear in his expression. "I will. But promise me, when this is done, you will return to me. I cannot lose you."

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. "I promise, Cregan. I will return."

He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as if afraid you would slip away then and there. You buried your face in his chest, inhaling his familiar scent, committing this moment to memory. 

When he released you, his expression was one of determination mixed with sorrow. "I’ll make the arrangements. You’ll leave within the week."

You nodded, unable to speak, your heart heavy with the knowledge of what you were about to do. But you reminded yourself of your purpose, of the love that drove you to this decision. You would prove your loyalty, your devotion, and your love for Cregan Stark, even if it meant walking into the lion’s den to do so.

The morning light filtered through the heavy curtains of your chamber, casting a muted glow over the room. The warmth of the fire had long since faded, leaving a chill in the air that seemed to seep into your very bones. You had spent the night sleepless, lying in the large bed you shared with Cregan, your mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. Today was the day you would leave Winterfell, your home, and your husband, to embark on a dangerous mission to the South.

The thought of leaving him, of being apart from the man you loved, filled you with a deep ache. But this was necessary. For Rhaenyra, for the Blacks, for Cregan. You had to believe that.

A soft knock at the door drew you from your thoughts. You sat up, wrapping your robe tightly around yourself as the door creaked open, revealing Cregan. His expression was a mixture of sadness and resolve, a reflection of your own emotions. He entered the room silently, closing the door behind him, and for a moment, you both just stood there, staring at each other.

"You’re leaving soon," he said quietly, his voice rough from the early hour.

You nodded, unable to find the words to respond. You knew that if you spoke, your voice would betray the turmoil inside you.

Cregan crossed the room to stand before you, his large hands gently cupping your face. His touch was warm, comforting, and you leaned into it, closing your eyes as you savored the moment.

"I wish there was another way," he murmured, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek. "I wish I could keep you here, safe, by my side."

You opened your eyes, meeting his gaze. "I know, Cregan. But this is what needs to be done. For Rhaenyra, for the North...for us."

His jaw clenched, and you could see the struggle in his eyes. "I hate that you have to do this, that I have to send you into danger."

You placed your hands over his, squeezing gently. "You’re not sending me into danger, Cregan. I’m choosing this. I want to help, to do my part. And I know you would do the same if our positions were reversed."

He pulled you into his arms then, holding you close against his chest. You could feel the steady beat of his heart, the rise and fall of his breath, and you closed your eyes, trying to memorize every detail of this moment. The thought of being without him, of not feeling his warmth beside you at night, was almost unbearable.

"You must be careful," he whispered into your hair, his voice thick with emotion. "Promise me you’ll stay safe, that you’ll come back to me."

You tightened your hold on him, pressing your face into the crook of his neck. "I promise, Cregan. I will return to you. I will always return to you."

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes, his expression serious. "If you find yourself in danger, if things become too perilous, you must come back. The war, the cause—it’s not worth losing you."

Tears welled in your eyes, but you blinked them back, refusing to let them fall. You needed to be strong, for him, for both of you. "I will be careful, I swear it."

Cregan leaned down, capturing your lips in a tender, lingering kiss. It was a kiss full of love, of longing, of a desire to hold on to this moment for as long as possible. You returned it with equal fervor, pouring all your emotions into that kiss, as if it was the last one you would ever share.

When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin. "I love you," he whispered, the words carrying the weight of all the things he couldn’t say.

"I love you too," you replied, your voice barely more than a breath.

The two of you stood there for what felt like an eternity, holding each other, neither wanting to let go. But eventually, you knew the time had come. You stepped back, breaking the embrace, and Cregan’s hand lingered on yours as you moved away.

"I’ll be waiting for you," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "Winterfell will be waiting for you."

You nodded, unable to speak, your heart heavy with the knowledge that this might be the last time you saw him for a long while. But you had to stay strong, for both of you.

Cregan escorted you to the courtyard, where a horse had been prepared for your journey. The Northern wind whipped around you, biting at your exposed skin, but you barely felt it. All your focus was on Cregan, on the way his hand gripped yours, as if afraid to let go.

As you approached the horse, Cregan helped you mount, his hands lingering on your waist, his touch warm even through the thick layers of your clothing. Once you were settled, he stepped back, his eyes never leaving yours.

"You’ll have a small escort until you pass the Twins, just enough to keep you safe without drawing too much attention," he said, his voice steady despite the emotion in his eyes. "I trust you, my love. I trust you to do what needs to be done."

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. "And I trust you, Cregan. I will send word as often as I can."

He gave a small, tight smile. "I’ll be waiting for your letters, but more than that, I’ll be waiting for you to return."

You looked down at him, your heart breaking at the thought of leaving him behind. But you steeled yourself, knowing that this was the path you had chosen.

"I will come back to you, Cregan," you promised, your voice firm. "No matter what happens, I will return."

He reached up, his hand brushing against your cheek one last time. "Goodbye, my lioness. Until we meet again."

With a final nod, you urged the horse forward, the sound of hooves on the stone courtyard echoing in your ears. You didn’t look back, knowing that if you did, you might lose the resolve to go through with this. Instead, you focused on the path ahead, on the journey south, on the mission that awaited you.

But as Winterfell disappeared behind you, you couldn’t shake the feeling that a part of you was being left behind, with the man you loved.

The towering walls of the Red Keep loomed ahead as your carriage (courtesy of Lady Frey when you rested in the Twins) rolled through the gates of King’s Landing. The familiar, oppressive weight of the capital settled on your shoulders the moment you crossed into the city. You had grown up in these streets, and while the grandeur of the Lannister seat at Casterly Rock had always called you home, there was something about the Red Keep that felt equally like a gilded cage and a battlefield. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what lay ahead.

The journey south had been long and grueling, but that was nothing compared to the task you now faced. You had to convince your brother, Tyland, that your presence here was born out of desperation and exile, not strategy and loyalty to Rhaenyra. Every word, every gesture would need to be calculated, yet natural, to ensure he believed you were truly the sister he thought he knew.

The carriage came to a halt, and before you could fully prepare yourself, the door was pulled open by a Lannister guard. You stepped down, your legs stiff from the journey, and barely had time to straighten your skirts before you saw him—Tyland, rushing down the steps of the Keep, his face etched with worry.

"Sister!" His voice was strained with concern, and he reached you in a few quick strides, enveloping you in a tight embrace.

For a moment, you allowed yourself to melt into his embrace. It had been years since you’d last seen Tyland, and despite everything, despite the sides you had chosen, he was still your brother. The scent of his familiar cologne brought back memories of a simpler time, before the realm had been torn apart by dragons and treachery.

"Tyland," you breathed, your voice trembling as you wrapped your arms around him, drawing on the emotions you needed to sell your story. "I didn’t think I’d ever see you again."

He pulled back slightly, his hands resting on your shoulders as he scanned your face, searching for any signs of harm or distress. "What happened? Why are you here? Why are you alone?" The questions came in a rapid, breathless stream, his eyes wide with worry.

You looked down, feigning shame and sorrow, before meeting his gaze with a carefully crafted expression of despair. "Cregan found out about our family’s support for King Aegon. He was furious, Tyland. He said he couldn’t have a Lannister—a traitor, he called me—living in his house. He… he exiled me. Sent me away with nothing but a few guards and this carriage. I had nowhere else to go."

Tyland’s face darkened with anger, his grip on your shoulders tightening. "That bloody Northern savage," he spat, his voice low and dangerous. "How dare he treat you like this? How dare he?"

You shook your head, tears welling in your eyes as you allowed yourself to lean into the role you had to play. "He said he never wanted to see me again, that I was nothing but a stain on his honor. I begged him to reconsider, but he was adamant. I had no choice but to come here, to you."

Tyland’s expression softened, his anger giving way to concern as he pulled you into another embrace. "You’re safe now," he murmured against your hair. "You’re with your family, where you belong. We’ll protect you, I promise."

You nodded, clinging to him as if for dear life, even as your mind raced with the lies you had spun. "I was so afraid, Tyland. I thought he might… I thought he might harm me. The way he looked at me…"

Tyland pulled back, his eyes fierce with a protective fury you hadn’t seen in him before. "He’ll pay for this, I swear it. But you’re safe now. I’ll make sure of it."

You allowed yourself to sag against him, letting out a shuddering breath as you feigned relief. "Thank you," you whispered, your voice shaking. "I didn’t know where else to turn."

He stroked your hair gently, guiding you back towards the Red Keep. "You did the right thing, coming here. The war… it’s tearing everything apart, but you’re safe with us now. We’ll figure out what to do next."

You let him lead you inside, your heart pounding with the fear that he might see through your act. But Tyland was focused on comforting you, on reassuring you that you were home now, that you were safe. The gods old and new were merciful, it seemed, as he didn’t question your story, didn’t probe deeper into your supposed exile.

As you walked through the familiar halls of the Red Keep, Tyland kept a protective arm around you, guiding you towards the chambers that had been hastily prepared for you. His anger at Cregan, his love for you, were palpable, and you leaned into that, praying silently that you could maintain this charade.

When you reached your chambers, Tyland dismissed the servants, wanting a private moment with you. He led you to a chair by the fire, urging you to sit, and then knelt before you, taking your hands in his. "You don’t have to be afraid anymore. We’ll protect you. The Greens will win this war, and when they do, you’ll be safe, and you’ll have your place in the new order."

You nodded, your eyes fixed on his as you forced yourself to believe in the role you were playing. "I just want to do what’s right, Tyland. I want to support our family, to do whatever I can to help."

He smiled, a hint of the boy you once knew shining through the hard exterior he had built over the years. "And you will, sister. You will. We’ll make sure of it."

As he stood to leave, you squeezed his hand, forcing yourself to look vulnerable, desperate for his protection. "Please… don’t let anyone else know what happened. I don’t want to be seen as a failure, as someone who couldn’t hold onto their marriage."

Tyland nodded, his expression serious. "Of course. We’ll keep this between us. No one will think less of you for what that Northern brute did. You’re a Lannister, and you’re my sister. That’s all that matters."

You nodded, offering him a weak smile as he left the room, closing the door softly behind him. The moment he was gone, you allowed yourself to collapse into the chair, your hands shaking with the weight of the deception you had just woven.

The Red Keep was your tie to home, but now it was a den of enemies, a place where every word, every action, could spell disaster if you were not careful. You prayed to the gods old and new, begging them for strength, for cunning, for the ability to play this dangerous game.

You had convinced Tyland, but there were many others who would not be so easily swayed. You had to be vigilant, careful, and above all, you had to keep Cregan in your heart. You would send him word when you could, slip information back to him and to Rhaenyra. But for now, you had to be the lioness among lions, playing your part in this deadly dance.

And all the while, you prayed that Tyland, or anyone else, would never see through the mask you had so carefully donned.

The grand halls of the Red Keep were as cold and imposing as ever, despite the ornate tapestries and blazing hearths that lined the corridors. You had grown accustomed to the hollow echo of your footsteps as you navigated this labyrinth of stone and secrets, but today, the weight of your task felt heavier than ever. The shadows seemed to cling to you, whispering of the dangers that lurked behind every corner.

In the privacy of your chambers, the faint scent of burning parchment still lingered in the air. You had just destroyed a letter—one that had arrived under the cover of darkness, smuggled into your hands by a loyal servant of the North. The letter had been from Cregan, your heart's anchor in this sea of deception.

You could still feel the warmth of his words lingering in your chest, a reminder of the love that bound you to him, even across the distance. He had written of his worry for you, of the nights he spent staring out over the frozen landscape of the North, wishing you were there beside him. He thanked you for your courage, for the sacrifices you were making, even as he admitted how much it pained him to have sent you away. His words were full of love, but also fear—a fear that you would be caught, that the game you were playing would turn deadly.

My brave lioness, he had written, I know the strength you carry within you, but I cannot help but worry for your safety. Every day, I pray to the old gods to watch over you, to keep you safe in the den of our enemies. You are my heart, my soul, and I am so proud of what you are doing, even though it tears at me to think of you so far away. Return to me, my love, when this is all over. Until then, be careful, and know that my thoughts are with you always.

You had read the letter several times, allowing yourself a few moments of vulnerability as you traced the familiar curves of his handwriting. But you knew that every word was dangerous, that keeping such a letter would be a risk you couldn’t afford to take. So, with a heavy heart, you had burned it, watching as the flames consumed the last tangible connection to your husband.

Now, as you walked through the Red Keep, you carried the memory of that letter with you, tucked away in the deepest part of your heart. You had to be careful, more so than ever before. The walls had ears, and the slightest misstep could unravel everything.

As you rounded a corner, heading towards the private dining chamber where you were to meet Tyland for dinner, you caught the tail end of a conversation that sent a chill down your spine.

Aemond Targaryen’s voice, sharp and filled with frustration, echoed down the hallway. "It’s impossible that Rhaenyra could have known about the ships. Someone must have tipped her off. The fleet from the Free Cities was our best chance to cut off her supply lines at the Gullet!"

You slowed your pace, your heart beginning to race as you listened. Larys Strong’s voice, oily and calm, responded in a tone that made your skin crawl. "It is troubling, my prince. We must consider that there may be a leak within our ranks, someone feeding information to the Blacks. We cannot afford any more missteps."

Your breath caught in your throat as you realized the gravity of their conversation. Rhaenyra had been warned about the ships—a piece of information you had managed to send north discreetly through one of your own messages. If they suspected a spy in their midst, it would only be a matter of time before they began to scrutinize everyone, including you.

As you continued down the hallway, forcing yourself to remain calm, you felt a pair of eyes on you. You turned your head slightly and saw Aemond and Larys watching you from the shadows. Aemond’s single eye glinted in the dim light, his gaze sharp and assessing. Larys’s expression was unreadable, but his presence alone was enough to set your nerves on edge.

You met their gazes briefly, offering a small, polite nod as if nothing was amiss, before continuing on your way. The chill that ran down your spine was unlike anything you had felt before, a cold, creeping fear that settled deep in your bones. They had seen you, and you could only pray that they did not suspect you of anything more than passing by.

As soon as you were out of their sight, you quickened your pace, eager to reach the safety of your brother’s chambers. Your heart pounded in your chest, but you forced yourself to maintain a composed exterior. You couldn’t afford to show any sign of fear or guilt—especially not now.

When you finally reached the private dining chamber, you found Tyland already seated at the table, a glass of wine in hand. He looked up as you entered, his expression softening into a smile.

"Sister," he greeted, rising to embrace you. "You look troubled. Is everything all right?"

You returned his embrace, taking comfort in the familiar scent of your brother, but the tension in your shoulders refused to ease. "I’m just tired," you lied smoothly, offering him a weary smile. "The journey was long, and the atmosphere here… it’s oppressive and difficult to adjust in a few months."

Tyland nodded, leading you to the table where a simple but elegant meal had been laid out. "The war weighs heavily on all of us," he said, pouring you a glass of wine. "But you’re safe here, with family."

You accepted the wine, taking a small sip as you tried to push the encounter with Aemond and Larys from your mind. But the memory of their scrutiny lingered, a constant reminder of the precarious position you were in.

As the meal progressed, you made light conversation with Tyland, discussing family matters and memories of your childhood at Casterly Rock. He seemed genuinely pleased to have you back in his life, and his presence was a balm to your frayed nerves. But even as you laughed at his stories and shared in his plans for the future, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were walking on a knife’s edge.

Every word you spoke, every gesture you made, was calculated to keep up the facade. Tyland must not suspect anything—nor could anyone else. You were playing a dangerous game, and the stakes were higher than ever.

As the night wore on, you excused yourself, claiming fatigue from the journey, and Tyland kissed your cheek warmly before you left. "Rest well, sister," he said, his voice filled with affection. "We’ll speak more in the morning."

You nodded, offering him a final smile before retreating to your chambers. Once inside, you closed the door and leaned against it, letting out a shaky breath. You had made it through another day, but the fear remained, gnawing at your resolve.

You crossed the room and knelt by the hearth, staring into the dying embers of the fire. Closing your eyes, you whispered a prayer to the gods old and new, asking for their protection, their guidance. You needed every ounce of strength and cunning to survive this—to complete your mission and return to Cregan’s arms.

As the night deepened, you crawled into bed, but sleep eluded you. Instead, you lay awake, staring at the ceiling, the weight of your deception pressing down on you like a heavy cloak. The memory of Cregan’s letter played over in your mind, a reminder of why you were doing this, of who you were doing it for.

No matter the danger, no matter the fear, you would see this through. For Rhaenyra, for the North, and for the love you carried for the man waiting for you in Winterfell.

But as you drifted into an uneasy sleep, you couldn’t help but wonder how much longer you could keep the truth hidden, how much longer you could play this deadly game before someone discovered the lioness in their midst was indeed a wolf.

The skies above King’s Landing were thick with the smoke of burning ships, the sound of clashing swords and the cries of the wounded echoing through the streets. The city had fallen, its walls breached by Rhaenyra's forces, and now the Blacks had taken control of the capital. The Red Keep, once a symbol of power and authority under the Greens, had become a battlefield, its halls filled with the triumphant and the defeated.

You stood in the throne room, surrounded by the black and red banners of House Targaryen, your heart heavy with a mixture of relief and dread. The mission you had embarked upon months ago had finally reached its conclusion. You had done what you had set out to do—played your part in the fall of the Greens from within their own stronghold. But the price of your success now weighed heavily on your soul.

At the far end of the hall, Rhaenyra Targaryen sat on the Iron Throne, her dark hair cascading down her back, her gaze as fierce as the dragons she commanded. Daemon stood beside her, his presence as menacing as ever, his eyes glittering with the thrill of victory. The throne room was filled with the murmurs of courtiers and soldiers alike, all of them awaiting the queen’s judgment on those who had opposed her.

As you approached the throne, your heart pounded in your chest, knowing what was about to happen, dreading it. Tyland had been captured along with the other members of the Green council, and now they awaited their fates. You had pleaded with the guards to see your brother, to speak to him, but they had refused. You had been kept away from him, kept in the dark until this moment.

"Your Grace," you said, your voice steady despite the storm raging inside you as you curtsied before Rhaenyra. "King’s Landing is yours, and the Greens have been defeated. I am at your service, as always."

Rhaenyra’s gaze softened slightly as she looked down at you, a rare moment of warmth in the midst of the chaos. "You have done much for our cause, my lady. Your loyalty and bravery have not gone unnoticed. It is thanks to your efforts that we were able to anticipate their moves, to strike where they were weakest. For that, you have my gratitude."

You bowed your head, accepting her praise, but the words felt hollow. Gratitude could not ease the tension that coiled in your gut, the fear that gripped your heart as you awaited her next words.

Rhaenyra’s gaze hardened again as she turned her attention to the prisoners being brought before her, shackled and defeated. Among them was your brother, Tyland, his face pale but his expression resolute. He had always been a proud man, and even now, in chains, he refused to show fear.

"Tyland Lannister," Rhaenyra’s voice rang out, echoing through the throne room, "you stand accused of treason against the rightful queen of the Seven Kingdoms. You served the usurper Aegon and conspired to destroy House Targaryen. For your crimes, there can be but one punishment."

You felt the blood drain from your face as the words you had feared most were spoken. "No," you whispered, barely audible, before finding your voice and stepping forward, your heart in your throat. "Your Grace, please, I beg you to spare him."

The entire hall seemed to hold its breath as you spoke, all eyes turning to you. Rhaenyra’s gaze was sharp, questioning. "He is a traitor, my lady. His actions led to the deaths of many, and he must answer for them."

You sank to your knees, desperation in your voice as you pleaded for your brother’s life. "He is my brother, Your Grace. He may have been misguided, but he did what he believed was right, just as we all have. I know his loyalty was to the wrong cause, but I beg you to show mercy. Let him live, and I swear he will never pose a threat to you again. He is all I have left of my family."

Tyland’s eyes met yours, and for the first time since you had reunited in King’s Landing, you saw something break in his stern facade. The love and concern in his gaze were unmistakable, and you felt your heart wrench as you saw your brother—the man who had always protected you, who had stood by you when no one else did—now reduced to this.

Rhaenyra’s expression remained impassive, but you could see the conflict in her eyes. She was a queen, but she was also a mother, a sister. She knew what it was to love and to lose, to be torn between duty and family.

"You ask much of me, my lady," Rhaenyra said slowly, her voice measured. "Tyland Lannister’s hands are stained with the blood of my loyal followers. Mercy for him could be seen as weakness, a precedent that might encourage others to rise against me."

Daemon’s gaze flickered to you, then to Tyland, and back to Rhaenyra. His voice, when he spoke, was cold and calculating. "Mercy is a luxury we cannot afford in these times, Rhaenyra. Traitors must be dealt with swiftly, without exception."

Tears blurred your vision, but you refused to let them fall. You couldn’t afford to be weak now, not when your brother’s life hung in the balance. "Please, Your Grace," you implored, "I will do anything you ask of me. Anything. Just spare him. I will leave the capital, return to the North, or anywhere else you command. I will serve you however you wish, but please, do not take him from me."

The silence that followed your plea was deafening. Rhaenyra looked at you, truly looked at you, and you could see the wheels turning in her mind, weighing your words, considering the options. You held your breath, praying that the love you had for your brother, and the service you had given to her cause, would be enough to sway her.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Rhaenyra spoke. "Tyland Lannister has committed grave crimes against the realm, crimes that warrant death. But in recognition of the service you have rendered to my cause, I will grant him his life." 

A gasp of relief escaped your lips, and you bowed your head in gratitude, tears now streaming down your face. "Thank you, Your Grace. Thank you."

"But know this," Rhaenyra continued, her voice stern and unwavering. "He will live, but his life will be one of exile and dishonor. He will be stripped of his titles and lands, and he will be sent to the Wall. He will live out his days in the service of the Night’s Watch, far from here. He will never again set foot in the South."

You nodded, unable to speak, overwhelmed with a mix of relief and sorrow. It was a harsh sentence, but it was life. Tyland would live, and for that, you were endlessly grateful.

Tyland was led away, his eyes lingering on you until he disappeared from view. You rose to your feet, still trembling, and Rhaenyra gestured for you to approach the throne. 

"You have done much for me, and for that, you have my thanks," she said quietly, so only you could hear. "But remember, this mercy I have granted comes with a cost. Loyalty must be earned and maintained. See to it that you do not waver."

You met her gaze, understanding the weight of her words. "I will not forget, Your Grace."

With that, you turned and left the throne room, your heart heavy but filled with a sense of purpose. Tyland would live, and that was more than you had dared to hope for. But the road ahead would be long and treacherous, for both of you. You had made sacrifices, and you would have to make more. But as long as you could keep the people you loved safe, it would all be worth it.

As you walked through the halls of the Red Keep, the echoes of your footsteps accompanied by the distant sounds of a city under new rule, you prayed once more to the gods old and new. You had survived this day, but there would be many more challenges ahead. And through it all, you would need to stay strong, for yourself, for your brother, and for the North that still awaited your return.

The road to the North was long and arduous, the chill of autumn creeping steadily into the bones of everyone who traveled it. The once green fields had turned to barren landscapes, the sky a constant blanket of grey. You sat in the carriage, wrapped in furs, the bitter cold seeping through the heavy fabric. Beside you, Tyland sat quietly, his expression unreadable as he stared out the window at the bleak countryside.

The silence between you had stretched on for days, the weight of everything that had happened in King’s Landing hanging heavy in the air. You had saved his life, but at a cost. Tyland had lost everything—his titles, his lands, his place in the South. And now, he was being sent to the Wall, to a life of exile and duty in the farthest reaches of the realm. You knew he struggled with the reality of his new fate, and the words he had not yet spoken weighed on your heart.

As the carriage rumbled along the rough road, you finally mustered the courage to speak, breaking the silence that had settled between you like a shroud. "Tyland," you began, your voice soft but steady, "I know this is not the life you envisioned for yourself. I’m sorry for what has happened, for the choices that led us here."

Tyland turned his gaze from the window to you, his eyes searching your face for a moment before he sighed, a heavy sound filled with all the emotions he had kept bottled up. "You did what you thought was right," he said finally, his voice tinged with bitterness but also a hint of resignation. "You always were the clever one, the one who saw the bigger picture. But I can’t say I’m not angry, or that I’m not filled with regret."

You nodded, understanding his feelings all too well. "I had to make a choice, Tyland. I couldn’t let you die, not when there was another way. But I know the Wall is not what you wanted, and for that, I am sorry."

He leaned back against the cushioned seat, rubbing a hand over his face as if trying to wipe away the weariness of the past few months. "The Wall," he muttered, almost to himself. "It’s a place for criminals, for bastards, for those who have nothing left to lose. And now I am one of them."

"But you’re alive," you said gently, reaching out to take his hand in yours. "And you’re still a Lannister, no matter where you go. The North may be harsh, but there is honor in serving at the Wall, especially now that winter is coming. The realm will need men like you, strong and capable, to defend it."

Tyland looked at your hand in his, then back at you, a shadow of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "You always did have a way of making the worst situations seem bearable. I suppose that’s why you’re still alive, too."

You smiled back, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. "We do what we must to survive, Tyland. But that doesn’t mean we have to face it alone."

The rest of the journey was spent in a tentative peace, the bond between you and Tyland slowly beginning to heal, though it would never be the same. He had accepted his fate, though with a heavy heart, and you had accepted the burden of knowing that your actions had brought him to this point. But as the carriage drew closer to Winterfell, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief.

When Winterfell finally came into view, its ancient walls standing tall against the sky, you felt a wave of emotion wash over you. This was home now, the place where you had found love and purpose, and where you would begin the next chapter of your life. As the carriage rolled through the gates, you could see the figures waiting in the courtyard—Cregan among them, his tall, broad-shouldered form unmistakable.

The carriage came to a stop, and before you could even step out, Cregan was there, pulling the door open and helping you down. His hands were warm, his touch grounding you as he pulled you into a tight embrace. You buried your face in his chest, breathing in the familiar scent of pine and cold air that clung to him.

"I missed you," you whispered, your voice muffled against his furs.

"And I you," he replied, his voice thick with emotion as he held you close. "Every day, every night, I thought of you. But now you’re here, and that’s all that matters."

You pulled back slightly, just enough to look up into his eyes. "I brought Tyland with me. Rhaenyra spared his life, but she sent him to the Wall."

Cregan’s gaze shifted to where Tyland was stepping out of the carriage, his expression unreadable. He nodded in acknowledgment, though there was no warmth in his eyes. "Lord Lannister," he greeted, his tone respectful but formal.

Tyland straightened, meeting Cregan’s gaze with a mixture of pride and resignation. "Lord Stark," he replied, bowing his head slightly. "I’m here to serve, as ordered."

Cregan studied him for a moment, then nodded. "The Wall is not a punishment, Tyland, but an honor. The Night’s Watch may be seen as a place for those with no other options, but the truth is, it’s a place for men who understand the weight of duty. The realm needs protectors, especially now, with winter coming. You will find purpose there, and in time, perhaps even a sense of belonging."

Tyland’s eyes flickered with something unreadable, but he nodded in agreement. "I will do my duty," he said quietly, his voice carrying a note of determination. "If this is my fate, then I will embrace it."

Cregan’s expression softened slightly, and he extended his hand to Tyland. "Then you have my respect, and the respect of the North. You are welcome in Winterfell until you take the black."

Tyland accepted the handshake, and for a moment, the two men stood in silent understanding. You felt a sense of relief wash over you—there was no animosity here, only a shared understanding of the burdens they both carried.

As the three of you made your way inside Winterfell, the warmth of the great hall enveloped you, the familiar scents of wood smoke and roasted meat filling the air. You felt a sense of peace settling over you, knowing that you had done what you could to protect your family, and that here, in the North, you would find the strength to face whatever came next.

That evening, you and Cregan sat together by the fire, the weight of the past few months slowly lifting as you shared stories of what had transpired. Tyland joined you, his demeanor more relaxed than it had been since his capture. The three of you spoke of the future, of the challenges that lay ahead, but also of the hope that lingered just beyond the horizon.

As the fire crackled and the shadows danced on the stone walls, you felt a deep sense of contentment. The North was harsh and unforgiving, but it was also a place of honor, of loyalty, and of love.

The warmth of the fire had long since faded, leaving only the soft glow of embers to illuminate the room. The heavy furs that covered the bed provided a cocoon of warmth, sheltering you from the cold that seeped in through the stone walls of Winterfell. Outside, the wind howled, a reminder of the harshness of the North, but here, in Cregan’s arms, you felt only the warmth of his body against yours.

The two of you lay entwined beneath the blankets, your skin still tingling from the intensity of your lovemaking. It had been so long since you had been together like this, since you had felt the press of his body against yours, the way his hands knew every curve and hollow of your form. You had missed this—missed him—with an ache that had grown unbearable during your time apart.

Cregan’s fingers traced lazy patterns along your spine, his touch light but possessive, as if he was reminding himself that you were truly here, that you were his once more. You pressed closer to him, your head resting on his broad chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear. It was a sound that had become your anchor, a reminder that you were home.

"You’re quiet," Cregan murmured, his voice rough with the remnants of sleep. His hand slid up to cup the back of your neck, his thumb brushing gently against your skin. "What’s on your mind, my love?"

You closed your eyes, savoring the warmth of his touch, the safety of his embrace. "I’m just… grateful," you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath. "Grateful to be here, with you. I missed this, missed us."

Cregan shifted slightly, rolling onto his side so that he could face you, his dark eyes searching yours in the dim light. "I missed you too," he said, his voice low and full of emotion. "Every day you were gone, I thought of you. Wondered if you were safe, if you were thinking of me as much as I was thinking of you."

You reached up, your fingers brushing the stubble on his jaw, feeling the roughness beneath your fingertips. "You were always on my mind," you confessed, your voice trembling slightly with the weight of your emotions. "There were times I didn’t know if I’d make it back, but the thought of you, of us… it kept me going."

His expression softened, and he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment. "You’re here now," he whispered against your skin. "And I won’t let anything take you away from me again."

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer, needing the reassurance of his presence. "I don’t want to be apart from you ever again," you said, your voice fierce with determination. "I’ll do whatever it takes to stay here, with you, in the North. This is where I belong, where we belong."

Cregan’s hand moved to cradle your face, his thumb brushing away a stray tear that had slipped down your cheek. "You’re my wife, my love," he said, his voice steady and sure. "Nothing will keep us apart again. We’ve been through too much, and we’re stronger for it. This is our home now, and we’ll face whatever comes together."

You nodded, feeling a sense of peace settle over you. It was true—together, you could face anything. The challenges you had overcome, the dangers you had braved, had only strengthened the bond between you. And now, here in the safety of Winterfell, in the warmth of Cregan’s arms, you knew that you could finally allow yourself to rest, to trust that you were where you were meant to be.

Cregan’s lips found yours again, the kiss slow and tender, full of the love and longing that had built up during your time apart. You melted into him, your fingers tangling in his hair as you deepened the kiss, wanting to lose yourself in the warmth and comfort of his embrace.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and flushed, you rested your forehead against his, your eyes closed as you savored the closeness between you. "I love you," you whispered, the words slipping out as naturally as a breath.

"I love you too," Cregan replied, his voice rough with emotion. "More than anything. More than the North, more than duty, more than life itself."

You smiled, feeling the truth of his words settle deep within your heart. There was nothing more important than this, than the love you shared, the life you were building together. And after everything you had been through, you knew that you were ready to face whatever the future held, as long as you had him by your side.

The two of you lay together in silence for a while, simply enjoying the warmth of each other’s presence, the quiet intimacy that had been so hard-won. The world outside might be harsh and unforgiving, but here, in this moment, you were safe. You were loved.

As you drifted off to sleep, your head resting on Cregan’s chest once more, you knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, you would face them with the strength of the North in your veins and the love of your husband in your heart. And that, you knew, would be enough.

[natsukishinomiyaswife]

When You're Gone

Had a bit of writer's block, so I wrote this to help! ♡ These are short scenarios featuring some of the Twisted Wonderland cast, and what they do (sometimes without realizing it) when they miss you ♡ (There will probably be a part 2, with some more characters lol ♡) Enjoy! ♡

Characters included: Riddle, Cater, Ace, Ruggie

Riddle Rosehearts

He loves to have you close, engaging in conversation as you eat or work. Even when you say nothing at all, simply enjoying each other's presence, fills him with joy. There's no one he wants near more than you, and the seat beside him is yours, forever and always.

Whether it be an unbirthday party, in the cafeteria, in the library, or even in class, the chair beside him is always reserved for you. Even when he knows you won't be there, he still saves the spot for you, acting on instinct. The words leave him automatically, not even realizing what he said until it's too late.

"This seat is taken, so find somewhere else to sit" ♡

Cater Diamond

On nights when he can't sleep, scrolling through his phone, he'll look back on old conversations. Scrolling through messages you sent, pictures he took, fond memories you both shared. It brings him more joy than you'd think, a small smile coming to his face as he eventually falls asleep, dreaming of you.

Some nights he just can't sleep, no matter how hard he tries. Scrolling through his phone doesn't help, and Magicam doesn't seem as appealing as it usually is. During these nights, he listens to any voicemails he has from you, or any videos he's taken with you, longing to hear your voice.

He contemplates calling you, but ultimately decides against it, unsure what he'd say if you answered. He'll just keep listening to your voice until sleep takes hold, the sound calming his mind ♡

Ace Trappola

Everyone knows when you're not there, listening to Ace mumble to himself, wondering where you were. He'll look around as if seeking you out, before finally asking someone, curiosity taking hold.

While he does his best not to let it show, he worries about you, especially if he hasn't seen or heard from you in a while. Did something happen? Were you ok? Or perhaps you were mad at him, choosing not to respond?

He does his best to wait, finding the text he sent earlier unanswered. Scrolling through your past messages doesn't give him a hint, and sitting around doesn't help either, leaving him feeling off the rest of the day.

He goes about his business, but the thought of you still rests in the back of his mind. When he sees you again he acts as if nothing happened, being his usual self. Yet, the relief he feels at the sight of you, at your response, causes a smirk to come to his face. One that isn't there just to be teasing or smug ♡

Ruggie Bucchi

Ruggie's never been picky with food, taking whatever he could get. As long as it wasn't rotten, it was good enough for him, unconcerned with flavor or texture. When given a choice though, he's drawn to dishes you would like, always considering your tastes.

He's used to sharing with others, wanting those around him to be well-fed. As you begin to grow closer, he naturally starts to pick foods you would like, even if he doesn't realize it. All with the intention of sharing it with you, should you ever be hungry.

This habit doesn't stop when you're not there, Ruggie doing it without thinking. As he eats, he imagines you there with him, enjoying the dish for yourself. He finds it makes the food taste better, picturing your face lighting up at the first bite. Maybe he'll be nice and save you some, just this once ♡

𝓣𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓴 𝔂𝓸𝓾! ♡

[chuunai]

Henlo I have something to add to the 100 followers event if that’s cool

Dazai with scenario 2 and prompt 16. Idk how these things traditionally go but…. Your stuff seems good so far and I’m excited to see what you do with this

Thank you thank you, Anon. Also sorry for how long this took everyone I swear I’m combing through the requests 3_3

✧˚ · . dad first, detective second - dazai osamu

who would’ve imagined the demon prodigy having a hellion of his own?

summary ⋆ ★ comfort, fluff, established relationship (marriage with reader), SFW → baby baby baby, Dazai really likes your boobs, etc.

It’s a perfect night, really.

Your warm body resting against his, limbs lazily tossed over each other as you snuggled and acted like lovesick fools. Moonlight poured in from the cracks of the curtains, casting small slivers on your face. Dazai couldn’t help but think of an angel when it came to you. A heavenly being that granted him a new life and forgave him for his past.

Nudging at your cheek with his nose, his voice came out in a sleepy tone.

“You should sleep, [name].”

His hand reached up to cup your face, playfully using his thumbs to gently close your eyelids like one would do with a body. He’d seen many people in the Mafia do that—try and make the deaths they caused seem more peaceful rather than a brutal end. Dazai himself never did that. No need in beautifying a simple concept of its finality and simplicity.

“Can’t. I know she’s about to wake up. It’s nearly eleven, and we put her to sleep at seven. I can tell.”

You shook your head stubbornly, looking at the baby monitor nearby where static noise and the occasional mix of a tiny snore and coo came from.

His little hellion.

Really, he had no clue how he got so lucky. First with the fact that he impregnated you and you carried his baby. Second with the fact that he had his own family now. And third with the fact she looked so much like him. Thick brown curls of hair on her head, big curious eyes that looked at him so adoringly. The tiny freckles and birthmarks scattered across her skin. She had some of your features, yes, but they were more subtle than his features.

Coupled with the fact that she was a bundle of energy and sass like him.

“I insist, pretty. Shinju needs her daddy too.”

He knew how much she made you tired with her habit for refusing to nap for more than an hour or two coupled with breastfeeding and the general responsibility and time that being a mom took. Dazai wanted to spend time with his daughter too and relieve your stress. You’d get sleep, he’d get to see Shinju. Win-win, in all accounts.

Hell, he even gave you puppy eyes in the darkness of your room.

“I…fine. But don’t wake me up if you screw up.”

Dramatically, he sighed and frowned, placing a hand on his heart.

“Does my ‘bella really think I’m an incompetent father? How heartbreaking and cruel of her!”

Much to his relief, you playfully groaned, pinching his sides lightly.

“I didn’t say that, dummy. God, I swear Shinju is more mature than you.”

Jesus, you were so insulting tonight. How was the baby that tried to put anything she could in her mouth more mature than him? Sure, he was a bit funny and childish, but he wasn’t a baby. Well, if he had his face buried in your boobs he’d be a baby. Still, it’s not his fault that they’re just so big and warm and squishy and seem to beg for his attention.

Which is what he soon did, resting his head on your chest while cupping them softly. You were wearing one of his shirts and a nursing bra underneath. He wished you weren’t wearing anything at all, but it wasn’t fair to ask for that when you recently gave birth just a mere two months ago. His libido lowered itself only for you. And when you did have sex—quickies when Shinju would nap—, he was so much nicer and loving than usual. The mother of his child didn’t deserve rough mean sex, no, she deserved gentle treatment under the sheets of their futon.

You deserved everything that he could possibly give you.

So when the small baby demon eventually began to wake up and whimper, he pressed a kiss onto your cheek and slowly got up, whistling a small tune under his breath before waking to the makeshift nursery nearby.

Opening the door slowly, he made his way to the crib and picked up his sniffling newborn, shushing her comfortingly.

“Shhh, it’s okay. Daddy’s here. We don’t want to wake up mama, okay?”

Her tiny hands balled up into fists, weakly moving around and occasionally hitting his chest. Sitting down on the rocking chair nearby, he fumbled around for one of her stuffed animals, grabbing the familiar bunny as he placed it in her arms.

“Look there, Shinju. It’s your bunny!”

From an authoritative Mafia executive to a tired loving father. Lord, Chuuya would be laughing his ass off. Or have that stupid face of confusion while he’d berate Dazai with questions about what unlucky woman had to bear his spawn. But what could that short alcoholic of a ginger say? No woman wanted to birth his babies.

He was quickly snapped out of his thoughts when Shinju’s tiny fingers began to grab at his chest, thinking he could feed her too. He could, just not straight from the source unlike you. Standing up, he went over to the mini-fridge nearby which contained bottles of your milk. It wasn’t too chilly, and so he carried it and the cooing baby to the kitchen where he warmed it up in the microwave.

After it warmed up, he carefully began to feed her, leaning back against the counter as he did so.

It still felt so odd to him. Caring and loving someone he helped to create. His self from ten years ago would never believe it—that they’d find love and even have a baby after escaping the Mafia. He had you to thank for that. The one who picked up the discarded pieces of his soul and welded it into the man he is today—a father first, and a detective second.

Kinda rushed the end but I couldn’t think of anything more :(

Tags: @twst-om-lover, @sinfulthoughtsposts, @xxcandlelightxx

[love-and-deepspace-fanfic]

Rafayel Fanfic - Drunken Intimacy

This story is inspired by the 4* Rafayel card "Oceanic Nightfall," though I personally don't like how MC handles the situation, so here's a different scenario where I think things could get better.

Hope you've been enjoying my delulu so far

Imagine you just came back from a tired mission trip, and Raf has just finished throwing a party and got drunk....

Drunken Intimacy

You had just finished carefully placing your suitcase back in your bedroom after a long mission trip when you spotted a figure slumped against the sofa by the window, holding a glass of wine you had set down countless times since you saw him.

"Argh, this boozer."

You muttered under your breath. Resigned, you navigated around the remnants of a party scattered across the living room, making your way towards a collection of overflowing wine bottles. The sight of the trashed mansion after a long and tiring trip filled you with a mixture of surprise and disappointment.

You'd envisioned a different homecoming with Rafayel – a walk by the lake or a visit to his favorite restaurant, as usual. But this scene was far from what you'd expected. Since arriving home, you'd been deliberately avoiding Rafayel's gaze, not wanting to betray your disappointment, even though deep down you knew he must have had his reasons.

Rafayel remained motionless on the sofa, swirling the wine in his glass. His eyes, usually sharp, held a strangely gentle glint as they met yours. An unsettling silence lingered between you, broken only by the jarring ring of a phone.

You recognized the ringtone as your own, but couldn't find it anywhere. It wasn't until you spotted it lying beside Rafayel on the sofa that you realized he must have noticed your avoidance too.

You approached Rafayel with your gaze fixed elsewhere. You quickly snatched your phone and answered the call from Thomas. Just as you were about to move away to talk, Rafayel suddenly grabbed your wrist, pulling you down. Taken off guard, you fell onto Rafayel's lap, right as Thomas' voice echoed from the other end of the line.

"Is that […]? Are you home already?"

You shot Rafayel a glare, but his grip was firm, preventing you from moving. You sighed and switched on speakerphone to answer. "Yes, I just got back. Is there something wrong?"

“Oh, you're back already? The party organizers and I wanted to apologize to you! The party tonight was supposed to be held at the pre-booked hotel, but due to unforeseen circumstances, they couldn't accommodate us. That's why I had to ask Rafayel to let us use his place. He usually refuses these requests, but for some reason he agreed today, which is why the party ended up being such a success. Please don't blame him, he didn't want any of this. On another note, there was a sudden power outage, and by the time Rafayel chased everyone out, we couldn't clean up. We'll send some staff over tomorrow to tidy things up."

You cast a sidelong glance at Rafayel before replying, "It's alright, Thomas. I understand."

Relief washed over Thomas on the other end of the line. As he was just about to ask about your trip, the call abruptly cut out. A moment later, it dawned on Thomas that Rafayel must be sulking again.

You yourself were also taken by surprise. All you'd heard was Thomas' voice on speakerphone, and the call had just abruptly ended because somebody’s slender and beautiful fingers pressed on the disconnect button. Still sprawled across Rafayel's lap, you lifted your eyes to meet his, their gazes locking. His eyes, glazed over with intoxication, held an undeniable intensity as they looked back at you. His body burned with heat, his cheeks flushed a deep red all the way across his face to his ear. Despite the haziness in his eyes, his focus remained fixated on you. His hand reached out to take the one holding your phone, gently setting it aside before wrapping his arm around you, pulling you close as if to meld you into his chest. The intensity of his grip startled you. You pushed yourself up, bracing your hands against his chest to create some space, forcing him back onto the sofa before sitting above him to catch your breath. A mix of annoyance and amusement bubbled within you.

“What is it? Are you trying to convince me that all this mess wasn't intentional?"

Rafayel remained silent, his gaze unwavering as he stared at you. His scorching hand reached out to touch yours resting on his chest. He squeezed it tightly, then began to stroke it gently, sending shivers down your spine. You realized there was something different about Rafayel today. You let him keep hold of your right hand while reaching out with your left to touch his cheek.

“Tell me," you said softly, "What’s bothering you today?”

Rafayel finally spoke, but his words were nonsensical.

“Do you think a mother turtle can climb trees now?"

What? Mother turtles?

As if lost in his own thoughts, Rafayel continued rambling. "Jellyfish must be able to walk, and sharks know how to eat grass as well."

You finally realized what he was hinting at. You sighed reluctantly, "Didn't I tell you the trip would take two weeks?"

"You said two weeks, but you came back a day late without telling me!"

Rafayel said, his voice laced with a hint of sulking. You felt a pang of guilt. You had indeed been delayed a day, preoccupied with finding a souvenir for him and forgot to inform him. This was serious… he was really upset.

You sighed and gave in, "I’m sorry…"

"We haven’t done yet!" Rafayel’s voice grew more "ferocious.”

“Do you know how annoying those people were today? The ladies with their suffocating perfume, the pot-bellied old men with their sly faces, just looking at them made me lose my appetite. But more importantly..."

Rafayel suddenly stopped, his voice dropping, gloomy

"...Without you, I don't want to do anything."

Rafayel’s hand moved from holding your hand to stroking your cheek. His eyes softened but were still filled with sadness.

“To you... it's just a day... but to me it has been long enough that I've stopped counting... until I see you again..."

Ah, it’s this topic again...

Though you knew about Rafayel’s Lemurian heritage, he rarely spoke about his distant past.

Except at times like this.

Sometimes, you wondered what had happened to make Rafayel show such pain, and you had a feeling it was connected to you...

Maybe you would never be able to change or control what had happened in the past, but at least, at this moment...

Putting your thoughts aside, you leaned down, your hands gently touching Rafayel’s handsome face and then placing a kiss on his forehead. You kissed him deeply and forcefully on his forehead as if to create your own "protective" mark.

"Do you know what kissing the forehead is for?"

You leaned your elbows on his chest and gently stroked the mark you had just left,

“This is a mark only for those who need to be protected. I don't know what you've been through, but as long as I'm here, I'll be your bodyguard, protect you like how you 'hired' me before."

You looked at him and smiled mischievously, making Rafayel sink into his old distant memories.

The girl in the Lemurian outfit, radiant as the sun, smiled and declared that she would give him everything. He was her belief, and she would become his faith. She always stood on an equal footing with him, never backing down.

While reminiscing about that distant memory, Rafayel felt a gentle pat on his face. You were staring at him with scrutinizing eyes. Before Rafayel could even react, you had pressed down on him. Seeing his ears gradually turn red, you blew gently on it and teased,

"But let me warn you, my bodyguard fees aren’t cheap."

[whereslynx]

One with reader being sister to Ruby and shes dating spooky. He comes over to pick her up but Ruby opens the door and is scared. (It will never be not funny to me how scared he was when he had to talk to oscar 😂)

a/n: oh my gosh, me neither 🤣 ruby and spooky’s dynamic is hilarious! p.s still working on your guys’ requests, more will be out soon!

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The late afternoon sun dipped low, casting long shadows over the streets of Freeridge. It was that golden hour, where everything looked softer, even in a neighborhood like yours. Inside the house, though, tension was starting to build. You were upstairs, putting on the last touches of your outfit, knowing Spooky— known to you as Oscar—was on his way to pick you up. No one else knew about the relationship yet, and that’s the way you both liked it. Keeping it under wraps, especially with Ruby being your little brother, was an unspoken agreement. You knew he’d had his fair share of interactions with Oscar, but you also knew how skittish he got around him.

Oscar didn’t just carry the weight of being Spooky, leader of the Santos. He carried history, power, and a reputation that kept the neighborhood in check. To you, he was different—more real, more vulnerable—but Ruby? He still saw Spooky as that intimidating figure, a guy you didn’t mess with unless you wanted a bullet to your head.

As you finished adjusting the chain of your necklace, you heard the knock at the door downstairs. Your heart skipped a beat, half-excited, half-nervous about how this was going to play out. You weren’t worried about Spooky—he could handle Ruby in his sleep—but your brother had a way of overreacting.

“I got it!” Ruby yelled, rushing to the door like he always did when he thought something important was happening. You didn’t stop him, figuring this was the moment of truth.

You crept toward the top of the stairs, knowing exactly what Ruby was about to face.

The door creaked open, and Ruby’s eyes immediately went wide. There, leaning against the doorframe with his usual calm confidence, was Oscar. Arms crossed, brow slightly furrowed, like he didn’t even need to try to look intimidating. The man was a natural.

Ruby blinked, then blinked again, trying to process what he was seeing. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out at first. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he managed, “Uh… Spooky? Hey, man. Uh… what’s up?”

Oscar didn’t move. He didn’t have to. “I’m here for your sister.” Simple. Direct. The way he always was. But to Ruby, it was like he just got hit by a train.

“My sister?!” Ruby’s voice cracked, shooting up an octave as his face twisted with confusion, panic flashing across his eyes. His mind was clearly scrambling to catch up, the gears turning a little too slowly for him to grasp what was happening. His gaze darted from Oscar to you and back again, like he was searching for some hidden camera or a punchline to a joke he wasn’t in on.

He threw his hands up, pacing a few steps in the small living room. “Wait, wait—what? My sister?!” His eyebrows furrowed, mouth gaping open like a fish out of water. “Why? What’d she do? Is she in trouble?” Ruby’s brain had clearly taken a sharp detour, assuming the worst. Maybe it was all the times he had seen Oscar handling business with the Santos, the times he had heard about people getting in trouble with Spooky.

You could almost see the scenario playing out in his head—the horror of his sister getting mixed up in something dangerous, something he didn’t want to even think about. Ruby’s face flushed, his panic rising as he imagined a million different reasons why you’d be involved with the Santos, none of them even remotely accurate.

You barely managed to suppress a laugh, watching as he spiraled. The pure confusion and panic on his face was almost too much, and the fact that he was so off-track only made it funnier. You held back laughter from the stairs, knowing Ruby was already spiralling, his brain probably running through every worst-case scenario.

Oscar raised an eyebrow, clearly amused but not giving Ruby an inch of reassurance. “She’s not in trouble. I’m taking her out.”

Ruby blinked rapidly, Oscar’s words ringing in his ears like a bomb had gone off. “Out? Ouuttt?! How you gon’ take her out, huh? You gon’ take her out by a bullet to her head— Ai, ¡Santa María, madre de Dios!—I can’t breathe,” He rambled, holding the frame of the door like his lungs were on the verge of combustion. The shock in his voice was undeniable, like the thought of you and Spooky in the same sentence was just too much for his world to handle.

“Relax, lil’ homie,” Oscar drawled, his voice smooth but with that familiar edge that reminded you why he was the leader of the Santos. There was a coolness in his tone, the kind that came from handling far more intense situations than a panicked teenager. He let the words hang for a beat before dropping the punchline like it was no big deal. “On a date.”

The smirk widened just a fraction, like he was savoring Ruby’s reaction, waiting for the gears to finally click into place in his little brother’s mind. It was like watching a cat play with a mouse, slow and deliberate, and Ruby was the mouse in this scenario—completely out of his depth. Oscar’s stance was so casual, but it was the kind of casual that came with power, the type that didn’t need to be forced or flaunted.

Ruby looked like he was about to pass out, barely grasping the capability of comprehending his words. “Wait—so, like, you and my sister? You’ve been—what—dating? How long? Why didn’t I know about this?”

Oscar finally pushed off the doorframe, standing up straight. His presence alone filled the doorway, making Ruby look even smaller than usual. “We’ve been keeping it quiet.” He glanced up, spotting you watching from the stairs, his eyes softening slightly. “Didn’t feel like we needed an audience.”

Ruby looked between you and Oscar, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “But you’re Spooky!” he blurted out, as if that explained everything. “You’re—Santos. Leader. Spooky! What—how—why…?”

Oscar glanced at you, then back at Ruby, his smirk now fully formed, spreading slowly like he was enjoying every second of Ruby’s confusion. His eyes had that glint, the one that always hinted he was a step ahead of everyone else, like he knew exactly how this would play out before it even started. He stood tall, crossing his arms over his chest, the tattoos on his forearms peeking out from under his sleeves, a silent reminder of who he was—Spooky, leader of the Santos, a man with power and control in the streets.

“Yeah,” Oscar said, his voice calm but laced with that teasing edge. “I know.” The way he said it made it sound like the most obvious thing in the world, like dating the sister of one of his crew wasn’t something he needed to explain. He was used to people reacting to him with nerves or fear, and watching Ruby try to process it was just plain entertaining. He stayed relaxed, confident, while Ruby stood there, wide-eyed and speechless, like he was still trying to figure out how this even happened.

Oscar’s eyes flicked back to you for a second, softening just a little, before returning to Ruby with a look that said, you’re gonna have to deal with this, little man. His smirk never wavered, letting Ruby stew in the awkward tension of realizing who his sister had been sneaking around with. Ruby was still trying to catch up.

“You’re dating my sister?” he repeated, like saying it out loud might help him understand it better. “You’re serious? Like, this isn’t some kinda joke?”

You decided to put Ruby out of his misery, stepping down the stairs with a smirk of your own. His shoulders were still tense, his wide eyes darting between you and Oscar like he was trying to solve some impossible equation. As you reached him, you patted Ruby on the shoulder, hoping to ease his panic.

“Relax, Rubes. It’s not that deep. I can date whoever I want, remember?”

Ruby turned to you, still looking like he had just seen a ghost, his brow furrowed in disbelief. “But—Spooky?”

Oscar leaned against the doorframe, his smirk widening into something dangerously close to amusement. He crossed his arms, watching Ruby squirm under the weight of his stare. “Problem with that?”

Ruby gulped, practically choking on his words as he shook his head rapidly. “No, no, no problem,” he blurted, his hands flying up in a desperate show of surrender. “It’s just… I mean, you’re Spooky! You’re a Santo. You got all these people who, you know, listen to you, follow you. And you’re dating my sister? That’s just… I don’t know, man. It’s a lot to process.”

Oscar straightened up slightly, taking a slow step forward, his full height casting a shadow over Ruby. Even though his expression remained calm, the shift in his stance was enough to make Ruby take an instinctive step back. The tension in the air was thick, and despite Oscar’s cool demeanor, the power he carried was undeniable. “You worried?”

Ruby swallowed hard, his voice coming out shaky. “Nah, man, not worried. Just… surprised.”

You couldn’t hold it in any longer, laughing as you reached for your jacket off the banister. “Ruby, he’s not here to recruit me into the Santos. We’re just going out. Like normal people.”

Ruby’s eyes flicked nervously between you and Oscar, still not fully convinced. “Just… out. Like… food? Or like, gang business out?”

Oscar let out a low chuckle, the kind that made Ruby stiffen. “Food. No business.”

There was a beat of silence as Ruby mulled over Oscar’s words, still looking like he was on edge. But finally, he stepped aside, allowing Oscar to fully enter the house, though he couldn’t stop glancing at you with that same baffled expression. “Alright… just… be careful, okay? Don’t want you getting wrapped up in anything.”

Oscar’s dark eyes shifted from Ruby to you, a promise lingering in his gaze. “She’s safe with me,” he said, his voice low but carrying a weight of certainty that made even Ruby nod in reluctant agreement.

Ruby bobbed his head quickly, still processing. “Yeah, okay. Safe. That’s good.” His eyes lingered on you, his worry almost comical given how serious he was taking this whole situation.

As you and Oscar moved toward the door, Ruby’s voice rang out again, his nerves clearly not settled. “Just… make sure she’s back in one piece, yeah?”

Oscar paused, turning back with a glance over his shoulder. His usual cool, collected smirk was back in place, but there was something softer in the way he looked at you. “Always.”

Once you were outside, the cool night air brushing against your skin, you nudged Oscar playfully. “You really love messing with him, don’t you?”

Oscar chuckled, slipping an arm around your waist as the two of you made your way toward his car. “Can’t help it. Kid’s got heart, but he’s easy to scare.” His voice held a trace of amusement, but there was a tenderness beneath it that only you ever got to see.

You laughed, shaking your head, already imagining Ruby still pacing around inside, muttering under his breath. “Yeah, but I don’t think he’s ever gonna stop freaking out about us.”

Oscar’s smirk softened as he looked down at you, his arm tightening around your waist just a little. “He’ll get over it. But I’ll always have your back, no matter what.”

You grinned, warmth flooding your chest as the weight of his words sunk in. For all the bravado and reputation that came with being the leader of the Santos, Oscar always made you feel safe. Not just from the world outside, but in a way that was deeper, more personal. It was a safety that went beyond anything anyone else could give you.

As you climbed into the passenger seat of his car, you could still hear Ruby faintly through the door, probably pacing and muttering something along the lines of “Spooky’s dating my sister,” like the world had turned upside down.

You couldn’t help but laugh, leaning back in your seat. “This is definitely gonna be a running joke, isn’t it?”

Oscar smirked, his eyes catching yours as he started the car. “Oh, no doubt.”

[wintersongstress]

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Reader

Summary: The first time Simon lays you down beneath him, you wear something special for him.

Word Count: 1.2k

Tags: Soft Simon™, kissing, foreplay, sweet words of praise, mild smut.

A/N: I wanted to get my feet wet with some headcanons for Simon, since I’ve never written for him before but am planning on writing a multi-chapter fic soon. I like to imagine him very soft and adoring with his girl, so if fluffy mild smut is your thing I hope you enjoy this little scenario where the reader wears nice lingerie for him 😊

❁ — Simon should have known that your first time together, when he lifted the last layer of clothing from your head, you would make it special for him to see you like this.

❁ — When you stumbled through the front door together kissing feverishly, he couldn’t go fast enough. He scooped you up by the knees and walked you backwards to the bedroom, your laughter making him smile and kiss down your neck. He loved the fragrant hollow of your throat where you enchanted your skin with perfume, and how when he whispered in your ear, goosebumps erupted on your skin at the tone. You wanted each other, he was doubtless of it as you fisted the back of his shirt in your hands and sighed for him yearnfully.

❁ — The bed is soft and moonlit as he lays you down upon it. You wait for him as he switches on the light on your bedside table, and the stained-glass lampshade casts a mosaic of warm honey colors all over you.

❁ — Smiling, blinking slow, you part your legs for him as he stands to his full height, inviting him between them, but Simon is transfixed. The rush that compelled him earlier, the one to cover your body with his own, simmers as he leans in.

❁ — Dwelling dreamily, he traces the side of your lovely, soft face with his knuckles. Along the curved plane of your temple, the pillow of your cheek, down to the lush seam of your parting lips. Your lashes dip and you capture his hand to press a kiss into the heart of his palm.

❁ — “Love,” he murmurs. He was so in love, he didn’t know what to do with himself. His other hand comes to rest on your knee and he circles a thumb across your tights. “I could spend all night just looking at you like this.”

❁ — You hum, lifting the skirt of your dress a little higher up your thighs. This was his way of saying that you didn't have to do this if you weren't ready; Simon would be happy with whatever you decided to share of yourself with him. A light of understanding glimmers in your gaze.

❁ — “I want you closer.”

❁ — A knot tightens in his throat as he watches your fingers flirt with the frill of your hem, shuddering to think of them up higher, between, glistening.

❁ — “You’re sure?”

❁ — A sun of hope burns in his chest as he awaits your answer. He holds it back with all his self-control, his fingertips trembling along the swoop of your collarbone. If you say yes, he would succumb to all the things he's imagined doing to you, thousands of times, scrambling for where to start in showing you how much you mean to him.

❁ — In a liquid motion, you slide up with your hands braced behind you to gaze up at him and place that hesitant, dreaming hand of his over your heart.

❁ — “Simon, you’re all I think about.”

❁ — Whatever remained of his granite cracks and you move together.

❁ — He unzips your tall boots, holding your ankle as he tugs them off. Your tights join the floor next and he’s gathering the soft folds of your knitted dress up over your head. The undressing of himself is all a seamless blur—he has no interest in seeing anything other than your bare body and has no patience for hindrances, but when you lift a final, snowy camisole above your shoulders Simon's stomach flutters and his breath catches.

❁ — With all his imaginings, nothing could've prepared him for the heavenly sight of you before him in lingerie, and his jaw goes slack.

❁ — You let him look, gaze shy with your bottom lip tucked in while your fingers fiddle at your side in anticipation.

❁ — Your breasts are perfectly cupped in a translucent bra, the powder blue mesh fabric of which is embroidered with a garden of wildflowers with seed pearls at their centers. A wispy little bow rests in the center, a shimmery lace that scritches between his thumb and forefinger as he marvels at it. Your underwear matches, framing your hips in a way that makes him groan.

❁ — "Christ, you're fucking perfect," he murmurs at last. A tremor of unworthiness stays his hands, too afraid of tearing the delicate garment to touch it.

❁ — "I wanted you to see me like this," you begin. "Because I thought you deserved something nice when all you do is make me feel so....worthwhile."

❁ — A stone rolls away from his heart. Simon's brows drawbridge up, forgetting his own feelings of inadequacy as he cradles your warm shoulders in his hands and leans in to kiss you. He could never word the depths of his gratitude and awe, so he imparts it in this kiss instead, bruising, tender, and acheful.

❁ — He finds your lips soft, warm, and beaded with moisture as your calves enfold around him like the wings of a dove. He's falling back with you on the covers and he cannot help but grind himself against you until you're whimpering, desire taking over his thoughts. He wants to watch you come, just like that. He wants to feel your warmth around his fingers and lave and tease at you with his tongue until he heard you call his name in the pleasure-filled tenor of your voice, to behold this beautiful sculpture of a woman unravel. His kiss breaks away to view the sight of you laid out for him and his palms course along your torso appreciatively.

❁ — "Oh, sweet girl. How can you want me?"

❁ — You lean up with an arm thrown over his sturdy shoulders, unhooking your bra, which he pulls away as you bring your caress to his thickset arms, holding yourself upright to kiss at the tragedy of scars across his chest. Simon holds you by the small of your back, letting his eyes fall shut and embracing how much he feels the delicacy of your soft kiss across his skin, the sensation warming his body down to his toes like sunshine.

❁ — Reaching his shoulder, you trace a nail along the groove of the scar that cuts through his mouth, your eyes aglow with affection. It's a look he's not ready for; it stirs in his chest a throbbing ache to never be without you, but what you say next surpasses it.

❁ — "Make me yours."

❁ — In a moment when the thickness of his fingers were tangled with the grace of yours, Simon once told you that whatever was left of him belonged to you. You could have the broken shards of a man he still had left to give. But then you embraced him, held those pieces for long enough to carry him here to the moment when you said those exact words that made his soul alight, and he is suddenly entire.

❁ — A groan flutters from him, and in his head he maps out a plan for everything he wants to do to you, knowing where to start first as he travels down your body. Parting your thighs around his shoulders, he kisses the wet spot darkening the bridge of your underwear with the fullness of his mouth, pressing his nose into you until you keen and lift your hips, giving him the opening he needs to pull your underwear down blindly and show you what you mean to him.

Comments are appreciated 🥺 Thank you for reading 💖

[halfagone]

A Mandalorian Halfa Jedi?

I am thinking... about my Danny Phantom x Star Wars AU again. I mentioned this in the Haunting Heroes discord server, but imagine this:

Danny gets lost in the Star Wars universe, maybe they're part of the same universe, maybe not. We know that Earth technically exists there, so it's possible. Nonetheless, Danny gets lost and is eventually picked up by the Jedi. It is during the Clone Wars era, at the height of the war. Ectoplasm either functions the same as the Force out in larger space, or it easily passes off as the Force. Therefore, Danny is considered Force-sensitive and brought to the Jedi council.

He's far too old, older than even Anakin was, but he already displays some skill with the blade (thanks to his mom's training), and he's far too powerful with the Force to leave for the Sith or Dark Side users running about to find him. Those like Count Dooku or Asajj Ventress or whoever Dooku's master is (and, depending on the timeline, Maul and his brother Savage as well).

It's decided that Obi Wan should train him, since he did well with Anakin despite Anakin's older age for a youngling and lack of familiarity with Jedi customs and culture. As well as Obi Wan's own young age as a Padawan himself at the time. Surely, Obi Wan could whip him into shape and they need all the help they can get on the field.

Anakin does not like Danny at first. Not at all. He might have joked all he liked beforehand about Obi Wan getting another padawan, but seeing it happen is an entirely different experience. Danny gets along well with Obi Wan, with his dry, witty humor and his tendency for unorthodox strategy. Worse still, Ahsoka likes Danny. These two are peas in a pod, partners in crime. It feels like he's been forgotten and replaced and by someone seemingly better.

And then one day, when the 212th and the 501st are stationed together, he finds Danny shaking with night terrors, the Dark Side so strong in him Anakin is literally freezing from the cold. It's only then that he understands Danny a little bit better, and sees himself in this kid. Danny fights the Dark Side within him just like he does, and he never lets it consume him. Maybe for once, he can learn a little something from this kid too, and not let it overwhelm him.

And here is the part where I realized a golden opportunity:

What if the Jedi think Danny is a Mandalorian that was cast out for being Force-sensitive? Danny has an affinity for weapons beyond the blade, like cannons and guns and snipers. He talks about how his family taught him to use these weapons, that he's known this all his life. He talks about how his family wears suits all the time and hardly ever takes them off. He talks about always being afraid to reveal his powers to his parents, and how ultimately he ran away because of them.

Oh all the scenarios that could come out of this~

But now I'm also thinking about how strong Danny would feel in the Force. How much Danny could do on the battlefield because now he doesn't have to hold back. Droids might have more intelligence than a lot of sentients give them credit for, but if it's between the very alive, flesh and bone, clones of the Grand Republic Army and the Separatists' metal droids, Danny is absolutely going to be ruthless if it means the clones are safe.

Danny can literally control the weather. Imagine what happens when Danny creates an electrical storm for the first time to take down an enemy starship and the clones just look between themselves, whispering about how: "I didn't know Jedi could do that." "Is that how the Force works?" "Kriff if I know-"

And that's another thing! Clones! Danny would be absolutely appalled that so many clones were created and their freedom at the end of the Clones Wars is still up in the air.

It also ties beautifully with his love for space and now he's living the dream! Except space isn't what he thought it would be. And there are planets out here that have barbaric standards. It's the adventure of a lifetime! But there's a part of him that still wants to go home.

Just- all the possibilities and shenanigans this could bring. ✨

[shineonyoucrazyyandere]

Imagine GER just finding darling and bringging them to Giorno out of nowhere (as a first meeting, Giorno not knowing darling beforehand)

My stand brought in a stranger and I end up obsessed with them?! That’s a wild thought for Giorno honestly.

Also don’t ask me how this devolved into a weird mix of headcanon/scenario either

I’m seeing somehow, some way, GER anticipated Giorno’s potentially developing feelings for you. He’d be so bewildered his own stand brought him a person, it’s so unexpected that the two of you end being confused not quite sure what to do at first. Since Giorno is the head of the mafia now, he has all sort of potential issues that could arise in it, thus leading you into danger.

There’s really no time in being upset at his stand, there really isn’t a point either. The blond decides to profusely apologize firstly, and he’s not quite sure how you got here. He puts on the gentlest smile he can muster deciding to guide you through this confusing situation. Ironically all of this worrying about you, probably leads to an obsession.

He of course has Mista help him through this, and to no surprise his jaw is wide open when Giorno straight tells him his stand brought you there.

You are eventually taken home, with seeing little of the estate Giorno was staying on. He distracts you as much as possible with casual conversation, he even rides home with you, knowing that’s still a compromising position on both his and your end. He’s certain you’ve accepted what happened and will likely keep it to yourself. The blond could likely leave it be, if he drops it now everything would be fine…

He doesn’t end up dropping it however, it starts off slow, with him keeping an eye out for any increase in crime in your area. Small little excuses that Giorno tells himself needs to be addressed. He ends up figuring out where you work, maybe stages a few people around other local businesses. Unbeknownst to you, you were now under the protection of the mafia.

Any criminal issues, or even abusive behavior is abruptly addressed and taken care of, it’s almost frightening how quick it happens. You’re rather unnerved at how some people look the other way when you walk by. Especially those you might have had a hard time with. There’s a few times you feel like you’re followed, but nothing comes of it. But hey that little garden you had bloomed to life so much, it looked like something out of a fantasy.

You had a feeling who was responsible for all of this, aside from the garden. (You had no clue Giorno was behind helping that flourish). What were you supposed to say? You couldn’t exactly call the police? And you knew people would just tell you to keep your head down. Did you do something wrong?

Ah your heart was starting to palpitate from panicking, one of your coworkers asked if you were alright. You tell them you think you need to go lie down, luckily they were understanding and happy to cover the rest of your shift. Leaving you to walk home shortly after lunch, your eyes casted down on the ground.

Nothing would happen…it would be okay. Yeah, just breathe….

Getting home your hands tremble while putting your key into the keyhole. A click and turn later you rushed inside, until you spot something in your kitchen. It wasn’t there this morning, at least not in the state and type of flowers that were there.

A vase that you usually put cut flowers in, which before you were left for work were in a sad, wilting state, and needed to be composted or thrown out, were replaced by a gorgeous bouquet. There was even a butterfly on one of the petals, slowly opening and closing its wings. You couldn’t really keep your eyes off it either…

It was beautiful, but it sent a sense of dread through you rather than comfort they usually would. Who ended up placing those there? They seemed to know what they had been doing with how they were cut.

Poor butterfly, did it accidentally get trapped in here too? You could at least relate to the feeling of being trapped. Free to roam but enclosed in a strange space at the same time? Was that really freedom?

[ice-cream-writes-stuff]

I’m loving your self aware LADs au!! I’ve been giddily waiting for the community to create it!!! Thank you for being the first person I’ve seen to write it!! Self aware aus are so fun and I can’t get enough of them!!

This isn’t a request but I want to share a funny lil idea!

Imagine reader trying to play wingman for mc? Like with you just posted about an outing with mc, reader and sylus, reader gets them talking arguing and when they are distracted Reader just, slips away to give him bonding time I just know reader can see through Sylus’ disguises

One of the love interestsare at the cafe? Reader hyping up the qualities each love interest is attracted to when it comes to the MC

If Mc is at the cafe Reader is fishing to see which love interest Mc is more into so that Reader can set up meet cutes for them

All the while reader is also just trying avoid being found out that they are aware that they are in a game, playing off as just being naturally observant of their customers or saying that the main cast are just rememberable!! Reader is so not trying to play Cupid to keep their mind off of the dread of being stuck in a video game nope no siree!!

[Almost Summed it up! Yeah, I still have a few scenarios I want to add as {Side Stories} for different characters.

-

Bug-eyed at the small snow man seated on your counter, you could feel your heart speeding up at the warm gesture. Knowing he only used his ability for the MC only.

"WAH! He's so... CUTE!"

Your fawning ceased when realizing the temperature. "HOLD ON A SEC-!" You hold up a hand as Zayne eyes you strangely, watching you dash around, muttering about something he couldn't quite hear.

Once back to where you were, you hold a ice chest out. Plopping it on the counter with little grace, away from the snowman. Carefully cupping around the fragile ice. You place it gently into the ice chest, closing the lid right after.

"I will treasure him!" You cry out, heart eyed as you hug the ice chest. Zayne felt his lips twitch at the actions you displayed, sighing as he took a sip of his own beverage.

-

[total-drama-brainrot]

Alenoah AU, where Noah says this in London instead:

Owen: "Why don't you like Al? He's great!"

Noah: "I like Alejandro and I agree that he's great, but I still don't trust the guy."

Owen: "Why?"

Noah: "I have my personal reasons... One of them being that I don't like how he treats you, Owen... So, please be careful from now on..."

Owen: "Okay, Noah... You do have a point."

How would Alejandro react to Noah liking him, but not truly trusting him? 😲

See your first mistake is assuming Noah would ever give up an oppertunity to shit-talk someone. /j

But for real, if Noah did clarify that he doesn't dislike Alejandro but does distrust him, I can't see things playing out too differently from canon - save for Alejandro being a bit less openly hostile towards him post-challenge. Noah would still be eliminated, because having a teammate who distrusts him doesn't align with Alejandro's game plan.

Especially if Noah divulges why he doesn't trust Alejandro. If Noah tries to out the fact that Alejandro isn't as altruistic as he wants to appear, that makes Noah himself a direct threat to Alejandro's plans and schemes. Again, he'd be eliminated as soon as possible.

Regardless of any potential feelings between the two, Alejandro can and would always prioritise the competition over any budding relationship he has with Noah... at least in London. Further on in the competition, if/when the two of them have gotten to know each other better (and when mutual feelings have had time to grow and develop) it's a different story.

It would, however, mean there's a lot less bad blood between the two post series. At least on Alejandro's end. If anything, he'd probably have a smidge of respect for Noah, since he's one of the few people who had caught on to Alejandro's false geniality pre-merge and/or pre-elimination.

Meanwhile Noah would still be justifyably salty that Alejandro got him eliminated, but I imagine he'd pin most of the blame on himself. After all, it was his big mouth that once again dropped him into hot water with his team. Plus, in this scenario, Noah admits that he does like Alejandro, so even considering his elimination I doubt Noah would be too upset with Alejandro himself.

So, in the case of this hypothetical AU, I'd suggest that the main meat of the story here would be post-World Tour, which plays out canonically (or as close to canonically as you'd like). Alejandro gets Drama Machine'd, and Noah - as one of the few people in the cast who doesn't actively hate Alejandro - questions his whereabouts when he fails to show up on the cruise boat the Gen 1 cast are seen on at the beginning of RotI.

He's likely the only person to do so since, barring Heather, Noah's one of the select few who Alejandro didn't royally fuck over. Not directly, at least. And Heather's too preoccupied with the loss of her million to think about Alejandro's wellbeing. And Chris tells him straight; the robot on the cruise ship? Alejandro's chilling in there, healing from the lava burns in almost complete isolation.

Noah is understandably horrified. He's even more horrified when Chris reveals that the Burromuertos signed over custodial rights for Alejandro and disowned him, so Chris is full within his legal rights to keep Alejandro in the Drama Machine for however long he deems fit. Unfortunately, he's also sworn to secrecy about the whole deal; Chris can't have Alejandro's situation reaching the press, it'd be bad for the show's publicity. (Add some legal jargon here, or something about non-disclosure agreements being in the casts' contracts, or whatever.)

But he can't just leave alejandro to suffer in an indefinite mechanical imprisonment. So Noah bargains his way back into his old position as a PA, if only to keep tabs on Alejandro's wellbeing.

Something something you end up with one of those Assistant Noah x Drama Machine Alejandro AUs, which eventually evolves into a "Noah works as an assistant on All-stars" AU, or whatever.

[the-s1lly-corner]

hello! Im one(1) of the anons that requested the jane doe reader and i thought of a funny scenario

So the character of jane doe was basically decapitaded so, imagine if reader's head isnt atached to their body, and can take their head off .

The tadc cast react to the reader taking off their head and then putting It back on like nothing. Tyy!!!

( remember to rest and drink wáter) :)

TADC cast x a reader with a detachable head!

oh hoho this one is going to be fun because my TADC oc can do the same thing, can take their limbs and head off at will and as needed; so i may or may not let my excitement show in this post and use my oc as a placeholder.. i definitely will.. which reminds me, i have a sketch of my ocs human design as well as a messy ref of their digital body... i have got to draw them more.. maybe ill finish the human sketch sometime today after this post... speaking of this post! this is the last request in my inbox ! after this im gonna take a break for a bit then reopen requests! do not send in requests at this time, please! (this goes for everyone regardless of fandom </3)

CAINE:

technically i think you could consider him with a detachable head... because i dont... think he has a neck... so technically.. not phased at all, he has seen things from various different circus members.. but lets say you came before zooble, and you were also the first circus member who could do that... i think he would be really into it and be amused. probably flies right up to you chattering about that little trick of yours

POMNI:

uncomfy by it, i think it would take her a while to get used to it... i think she would be the same with zooble thanks to the "these are people" thing, with the only reason she didnt freak out at zoobles dismemberment in the pilot being because she was preoccupied with her panic and confusion of this new setting

RAGATHA:

mildly uncomfortable anytime it happens but no where near as uncomfortable as pomni, since she has had her time to get used to a bunch of weird stuff in the circus; both from the circus itself as well as the people in it.. will guide your body to your head if theres ever a scenario where the two get separated.. hand holding... smiles

JAX:

probably tries to convince you to leave your head in someones room or in a box and have some poor unsuspecting person open it.. i think that would scare anyone, even if they were used to your headless activities... probably laughs at your body wandering aimlessly trying to find your head if theres an occasion where it was forcefully knocked off.. probably nudges your head away... this only really works if your body has to blindly fumble and you having to telepathically guide it towards you instead of it just going into autopilot and knowing where you are automatically and has zero struggle beelining for the head... but fumbling... funny

KINGER:

owoo!! jumpscare!/ref

honestly i think sometimes he just rolls with it and other times hes bothered by it; really depends on how hes feeling that day... but i think the majority is that hes used to it thanks to zooble... has probably run off with your head on accident when he meant to run off with you as a whole, usually in the face of danger during an IHA...

ZOOBLE:

completely unphased by it since they can pretty much do the same thing! there isnt really much to be said since zooble neither feels this way or that in regards to your little decapitation trick... if they couldnt mess with their own parts though i think they would find your thing cool, though

GANGLE:

depending on what your digital body is themed around i think this would determine how gangle would feel about it... like zooble is mismatched and is seen taking out their antennae as well as their limbs being snagged off by jax... with zooble, is makes sense, they look like a mismatched mess of different parts.. so if you were something that could reasonably do the same thing i think she can overlook it... now the first time would still be a shock, no doubt about it, regardless of theme.. very careful whenever theres a reason they need to get close to your head, she does not wanna knock it off and potentially upset you

[galaxyshine24-7]

Soooooo there this video from the HSR channel that has Acheron and Black Swan dancing together and for some reason i keep thinking MC dancing like that with someone. And it’s not from the TWST cast, like maybe someone from their childhood that they knew back then. I really dont know why i keep thinking about this scenario but…

So imagine the scene, MC is currently working in some high end job and the event was nearing it’s end so there are very little people around. Someone came up to the bar while MC was cleaning some glasses. It’s their old friend from the orphanage! So some conversations started and then the friend ask them to dance with them, MC agreed.

As they were dancing, unknown to the two of them, a certain hunter from Pomefiore just so happened to be there and also just so happened to be recording their dance as it was quite a dance and shared it to the other gangs. You can imagine the reaction those groups have when they see their bartender dancing such an intimate dance ;)

(Also here’s the link to the video im talking about https://youtu.be/e5xueJq4Lwc?si=GRJ4_OwCBaYaTJAq )

(If that doesnt work, the title is called “Rondo across countless Kalpas”)

A Dance to Remember: Twst Silver Bullet Au

(I love this video the music and the animation is amazing I can get much inspiration from this so I hope you enjoy the story.)

(F/N = Friend's name)

(Y/N = Your name or Yuu's real name)

(It's long so be warned)

A Dance to Remember A Silver Bullet AU story

It was a quiet night under the fog-covered sky as Yuu stared at the sparkling glass on the counter. They twirl their finger gently along the rim letting out a sigh. Another grand party hosted by Crewel that they were asked to work at. High society and eccentric people gather all from Crewel's circle drinking, dancing, and signing their life away under Crewel's watchful eye.

Same old, same old from Yuu's point of view, it's already late into the night branching into the morning. Most of the quests have gone home save for a few that have a meeting with Crewel. All that is left is the staff and the guards picking up what remains of the party. The only reason Yuu is still here is because Crewel wanted to talk to them about something, but he might as well have forgotten with it being an hour now. Still, Yuu knows better than to leave, especially if it's Crewel who wants something. So they sit behind the bar waiting for their teacher to finally arrive.

"Y/N is that you?" A voice breaks Yuu's train of thought as they turn to see a familiar face.

It was a friend from the orphanage Yuu stayed at. They never thought they would see them again. Especially hearing their real name after all these years.

"F/N it's you?!" Yuu couldn't believe their eyes jumping over the counter to give them a hug. "I can't believe it's you. What are you doing here?"

Yuu's friend picks them up and spins them around embracing Yuu with the same energy.

"Of course it's me, I haven't seen you in years, I can't believe you're here." F/N puts Yuu down. "I should ask what are you doing here Y/N?"

"I work as a bartender," The gesture to the bar behind them. "And I go by Yuu know."

F/N looks at Yuu in confusion but soon puts the pieces together.

"I see the years have changed both of us." F/N gives Yuu a sad smile. "After you disappeared from the orphanage I got adopted, by a pretty wealthy family. They are close to Crewel so I go to these parties often." They rub the back of their neck.

"I'm glade you found a family." Even if they are likely tied to the mafia if they are close to Crewel.

"Yeah, you could say I got lucky." They shrug.

Yuu can guess there is probably more there given Yuu's own past, but it's not their business to pry.

"So I'm guessing they're talking to Crewel right now." Yuu looks over to the grand stairs to the double doors at the top where Crewel holds his special meetings.

"Yeah, and I'm guessing you're waiting for Crewel?" F/N raises a brow.

"Yeah," Yuu chuckles.

"Which means we both have time to kill." F/N smirks.

"Yes, it would seem so." Yuu gives them a sly smile.

Music floats through the hall, has Yuu pictures all the dancing that took place earlier that day. The flowing bodies and the adoring smiles. Those who knew Yuu could tell they loved to sing and dance something their teachers took advantage of very often. It's been so long since Yuu has danced just for themselves. F/N can see them start to sway along with the tune. They outstretch their hand in front of Yuu catching the bartender by surprise.

"Really?" Yuu questions looking around, the staff and guards not really paying them any mind.

"When we dance it will be just us, like old times." F/N gives Yuu a warm smile.

How could they say no to that?

Yuu threw caution to the wind just this once and took their hand their bodies swayed and entwined to the music. They laughed and smiled on the dance floor, for it was true it felt like they were the only ones in the world to witness this moment.

Sadly like most gifts in the NRC, some things are too good to be true. Up in the rafters of the hall sits a hawk smirking with glee at what they happen to witness transpire.

"Magnifique," A camera snaps as the hawk can't help but admire his work. He didn't expect Yuu to be here or to get this thrilling scene in front of him. His queen would be most pleased with his work indeed, and to think he can see the beautiful image of Vil's scowl looking at the pictures and videos he procured. Not just Vil's of course, Yuu's beauty is too grand to share just with him and Vil, no Rook must tell the world about this diamond in the rough. Rook didn't wait to sneak out after the dance was over gleeful as he hums along to the song.

Much to Yuu's dismay it would be a long time before they could feel this relaxed with the flames of jealousy swirling around them from the mafia boys at the discovery of the treasured dance.

Vil was the first to witness the video and pictures, and even he couldn't find a flaw in Yuu's movements. The Pomefiore leader couldn't believe his eyes at the 180 the bartender could undertake, and their smile was so real and so beautiful he had to admit deep down it rivaled his own. Even Epel got to catch a glance has Vil was in a daze and he had to admit Yuu was a fine dancer. The last part he said out loud shocking Vil out of his thoughts has his emotions ran wild ordering Epel to go re do his makeup a ridiculous number of times along with the rest of Pomefiore to try to calm his emotions.

Rook did not keep this a secret he sent copies of the dance to the other leaders sitting back to watch the show. Leona couldn't help but smirk, the herbivore probably had no idea this was captured seeing their surprised face would make this worth while, but the person they where dancing with caused a bit of his blood to boil. The bartender was theirs's who would dare touch them so carelessly, and how dare Yuu laugh and enjoy their company it seems the bartender needed a reminder on their role. He makes Ruggie take the case to find any dirt on the person Yuu was with. As Jack stares at the video in awe trying hard not to show it.

Azul and the Leech twins had the same reaction in a way. If Azul knew Yuu had this talent he would have exploited them long ago when he had them in a binding contract. He needed to know who Yuu's friend was. It could be his one clue to find out who the bartender really was. The twins wanted Yuu to play with them instead and would deal with this mysterious figure that foolishly danced with their shrimpy.

Kamil stares at the video in a strange quietness a small frown adoring his face. Yuu looked so happy and was a wonderful dancer. Why didn't they ever dance with him? Did Yuu not like him? Who is that beside them? Kamil has so many questions and was in deep thought, so much that it worried Jamil at his state. Even Jamil couldn't help but raise a brow as the video questioning how stupid Yuu's dance partner must be since they now have a target on their back.

Idia made several copies of the video making sure he has it forever. He analyzed every moment of Yuu's dance partner and began to search the web to try and figure out who this person was that was so close to Yuu to dance with them. Ortho loved the video and hoped Yuu would one day ask his brother to dance with them as well. He himself now wanting to study dance styles and techniques to try out himself.

Riddle spits out his tea after viewing the first view seconds of the video. Trey rushes to clean up the mess as everyone wonders what disturbed the treasured tea time. Ace looks over Riddle's shoulder to see whistling at Yuu's dance moves soon telling the group making them gather around. Deuce is awe struck at the dance and how well Yuu knows the moves. Cater wants to post it online and tell everyone how they have a five star dancer in NRC. Trey is the first one to bring up who they are dancing with as the others zero in on the mysterious person. Riddle's face grows a bright red who dares touch their bartender. With Yuu's connection to the mafia they are too important to not know who they interact with. Riddle issues an order right then and there to bring the person to Heartslaybul he needs to interrogate this person himself to see if they are a threat or not. That is the only reason of course, don't question Riddle otherwise, the housewarden orders with a bright blush on his face.

Lilia is the first to see the video and brings it straight to Malleus with a mischievous grin on his face. Malleus sits in the lounge reading a book as Lilia hangs from the ceiling handing him his phone. Malleus is confused at what Lilia wants to show him until he sees Yuu dancing and smiling. His heart stops has he sees how graceful they dance. He never knew they could do that. It was a nice surprise at first until it starts to sink in. Was this a party, and he wasn't invited? Who was that person dancing with Yuu? They seemed very close, closer then he is too Yuu. Rain starts to pour from outside as the royal fae starts to sulk. His two attendants notice the change as they rush to his side seeing the video. Silver tilts his head wondering why Malleus is so upset at Yuu's dancing until he sees the dance partner he then starts to understand a little. Sebek is furious how dare the bartender not invite his Liege to the dance he will make sure they pay. Lilia pats Malleus on the head telling him he will find out more about what happened so Malleus could feel better. Yuu has certainly got a lot of explaining to do.

Has Yuu makes it back home and goes to bed they feel a bit happier and lighter as they fall asleep without a care in the world to the sound of rain outside their window.

(Thank you for reading💖)

[euphoniumpets]

From another world | Sebastian Sallow x Reader x Ominis Gaunt [ 01/?]

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x reader x Ominis Gaunt

Summary: You woke up feeling disoriented, wondered where, how and why you came across in a city. That's when you sawthat the city and Professor Fig was real and in front of you and that's how you knew that you were in the Harry Potter world. You didn't know why, but you knew that you had one goal in your mind and that was to stop Sebastian Sallow from murdering his uncle and give him a second chance in life. And perhaps it was the reason why you ended up there to stop more than one life.

A/N: hi! yes, so, i was in a hiatus for a while before and now i am brain rotting over sebastian sallow and ominis gaunt from hogwarts legacy. these boys deserve more love and i'm ready to give it to them. this story is an AU where the reader is from our world but get transported into the game. I placed the reader in Hufflepuff but you can imagine your own house as well! Taglist is open if anyone want to be tagged in further chapters! just comment down below or send in my inbox!

Warnings: smut can come across further in the series, some sexual references, violence, blood and gore.

CHAPTERS: one - two

All you knew that you woke up and felt disoriented. You heard your mother's voice coming downstairs and calling your name to wake up. You thought it was your real mother before you had woken up, got changed, and then walked downstairs. Your first reaction was that you were shocked.

But not because you didn't recognise your real mother, but the way she used her wand in her hand and used magic. You almost passed out and thought it wasn't real until when she said that you were almost too late for the carrige that would take you to Hogwarts.

You didn't question it, since your mother would think that you had loosen your mind and before you knew it, you were waiting outside for the carriage and Professor Fig would accompany you to Hogwarts.

It felt real. Almost too real and it made you shudder with fear, knowing how things and event would turn out if you didn't act quickly.

You waited with your bags in front of your apartment and saw a carriage approaching you. Your eyes widened in surprise when you realized who it was. You recognized professor Fig and you knew he was not from your world.

''This is impossible....'' You whispered to yourself. ''I must be dreaming,'' You muttered as he approached you. ''Ah! it appears we are almost ready to depart,'' You heard him speak to you and you almost wanted to approach your soon to be mentor a hug. He was one of your favorites person in the game and you knew that he was soon going do die.

You took in your surroundings and you knew that scenario. It was the beginning of the game you knew very well and you knew that your journey to Hogwarts was not going to be a pleasant one. ''It's a pity we didn't have a bit more time to spend on spell-casting,'' He spoke.

''I persume you've been practising the spells we worked on?'' He asked you. You nodded. ''I have, professor,'' You lied. You actually didn't know if you had practised with the spells since everything felt unknown at the moment.

''Well, I'm quite sure I've never seen anyone take so quickly to a second-hand wand,'' He complimented. You glanced at your wand in your hand and remembered that scene very well. ''You'll be a force to be reckoned with when you get your own,''

''Thank you, Professor Fig, I appreciate your working with me before the term begin-'' You were about to say before you noticed a familiar figure that had apparated in front of the two of you.

You felt your stomach turn into a twist.

''Oh! Eleazar!'' Mr. Osric exclaimed when he saw Professor Fig. ''George, glad my rather cryptic description of our location did not thwart your finding us,'' Professor Fig told him. ''I've apparated to more vaguely defined destinations than this,'' Mr. Osric informed and chuckled.

''Though, I confess I may have miscalculated slightly on my first try, gave quite the fright to some theatre-goers in the West end,''

''It's been much too long, when I recieved your owl, I must say I-''

''Best not to speak here, Elzear,hm?'' He stopped him before he could finish his sentence. ''Of course, why don't we speak en route to Hogwarts? We have a start-of-term and a Sorting Hat to get to,'' Professor Fig replied and looked between you and Mr. Osric.

''Wonderful idea, as long as your young charge here doesn't mind me tagging along,'' Mr. Osric asked you. ''Not at all, sir,'' You told him.

''After you,'' Professor spoke and gestured towards you. You entered into the carriage as the two of them followed after. You knew that Mr. Osric would die on your way towards Hogwarts and the dragon and about the portkey would be on your hands. You decided not to stop it since all you knew that it felt like a dream, that you were still dreaming, but you still felt like his blood was on your hands.

Mr. Osric and Professor Fig began to catch up and you looked out from the window to spot the dragon. It was all too foggy and you couldn't see anything so it was pointless to keep an eye. Your eyes drifted back when you noticed that Mr. Osric had asked about you.

''A new student,'' Professor told him. ''Y/N L/N, pleasure to meet you, sir,'' You introduced yourself with a smile. ''New?'' Mr. Osric asked with a surprised expression. ''Yes, sir, I'm starting school as a fifth-year,'' You explained.

''How extraordinary,'' He spoke. ''It is indeed, none of the faculty has ever heard of anyone being admitted to Hogwarts so late,'' Professor Fig informed.

''Nor have I,''

''Of course, as the other fifth-years will have been honing their magical skills for four years now, the Headmaster asked if I could get our new student up to speed a bit before the terms begins,'' Professor Fig told Mr. Osric.

''Well, you couldn't have asked for a better mentor, Professor Fig is not only an exceptional teacher, he is also a remarkably intuitive - and gifted - wizard,'' Mr. Osric spoke with a glint in his eyes. You smiled softly when you heard Professor Fig's friend complimented him.

He was indeed, you thought.

''Mr. Osric is prone to flattery, I daresay it's one of the reasons he's risen so far at the Ministry,'' Professor Fig spoke.

''Have you seen this?'' Mr. Odric asked and pulled out a newspaper in front of you. You noticed the person and knew who it was. The goblin rebellion and Ranrok. You felt a slight anger when you saw his face appear in front of you, knowing why he must be stopped.

''I have, opinions differ as to how great a threat Ranrok really is,'' Professor Fig spoke. ''Although, I've yet to convince my colleagues at the Ministry, I believe he is a significant threat,''

''And it was your wife, Eleazar, who alerted me to his activities months ago'' Mr. Osric informed. ''Miriam, how?''

''She wrote to me about Ranrok before she died, wondering what the Ministry knew about his activities,'' Mr. Osric explained with a sympathetic expression. ''Before I could respond, I recieved this, it was the last thing she sent me, Eleazar,'' He replied and pulled something out of his pocket.

It caught your attention since you recognised the portkey in his hands and the symbol but also the strange glow. The glow was exactly like from the games would show up. ''It came via her owl, but with no correspondence, I can only assume-''

''That she had to get rid of it quickly to keep it safe,'' Professor Fig spoke as Mr. Osric handed the objec in his hands. ''Persumably from Ranrok,'' Mr. Osric said.

''I cannot open it, whatever magic protects this is powerful indeed,'' He spoke. ''It looks liek goblin metal,'' Professor Fig spoke as he examined the Portkey.

''That symbol-''

''What's that glow?'' You spoke. ''I don't see a glow,''

''Neither does I,'' You looked between the two men as Professor Fig handed you over the Portkey. The lid suddenly opened up and revealed a key. ''Merlin's beard, how did you-?''

You were about to grab the key before Professor Fig stopped you.

''Wait! We don't know what-'' Professor Fig spoke and grabbed the Portkey. The dragon suddenly attacked the carrige and split it in half and Mr. Osric was long gone before that. It felt too real, but how brains play a trick on us. You knew that would happen and you tried not to panic.

''Hang on!'' Professor Fig yelled. You suddenly flew out of the carriage and you saw the key flying beneath. You tried to get to the key before it could fall. ''Grab my hand!'' Professor Fig shouted as you grabbed his hand tightly and before you knew it, you apparated.

The next thing you knew, you felt like you were going to throw up.

You realized you were in the cave of the beginning in the game and I knew how this was going to be further.

-

After finding Professor Fig and defeating the Pensives, you found yourself back at Hogwarts. ''Are you alright?'' He asked you with concern. ''I've never seen so powerful a goblin, he seemed totally unaffected by my magic,''

''It seems like we're back where we're supposed to be,'' You spoke and looked at your surroundings. You spotted the familiar castle up ahead and that brought you a smile on your face.

''You're right,'' Professor Fig chuckled. ''It seems those who set up the pensive, the locket, and the path to both wanted someone with your ability, to end up here,''

''Come, we have a sorting ceremony to get to,'' He spoke. You followed after him and towards to Hogwarts.

As you walked inside of the familiar corridors that you had seen in the movies and in the game, you couldn't help but gasp in surprise when you saw the hallways.

''Remarkable, isn't it?'' You heard Professor Fig question next to you as you took in the castle. It was every harry potter fan that had wished for ever since to see the real castle in front of their eyes.

You watched as you stood at the entrance to the great hall as you saw Professor Fig facing you. ''Oh good, we haven't missed the Sorting ceremony,'' He spoke with a relieved voice after he peeked through the doors. ''I'm no expert, but-'' Professor Fig stated before he used his wand to change your clothes into the same first year clothing that they had in the movies before they got sorted into their houses.

''That seems more appropiate, now, I need to study this locket as soon as I can, but first I must contact the Ministry, they need to know what happened to George and be warned of Ranrok, for the moment, I ask that you keep all that's happened this evening between you and me,''

''Of course,'' You told him.

''Thank you,''

''Ready for the Sorting Ceremony?'' He asked and looked at you with excitement, ''Yes,'' You spoke. Professor Fig opened the door to the great hall and you saw the other students gathered around as well by their houses at the dinner table.

You spotted your headmaster, Black and Professor Weasley with the Sorting Hat in her hand. Headmaster Black noticed Professor Fig at the door.

You heard Professor Fig mutter something about Black before he approached the two of you. ''Fig,'' He spoke and you rose your eyebrow towards the man.

You understood why the other Professor didn't like their headmaster that much.

''Nice of you to join us, the Sorting Sediment is over,'' He replied.

''There were complications,'' Fig replied. ''Complications?'' Black repeated and looked at him. ''It seems the goblin is-''

''Goblins! No time for rumors, Fig, and I'm rapidly losing whatever patience I had left,'' Black spoke before his eyes drifted towards to you.

''If you're lucky, we might still be able to get you sorted this evening,'' He spoke and walked back to the great hall. ''I'll be in touch,'' Professor Fig spoke as you nodded before walking inside. You couldn't help but look marvelled at the sight.

It was just like the movies when Harry, Hermione, and Ron had walked for the first time and the ceiling was written in the stars. You looked at your surroundings, spotting a familiar Slytherin brunette boy who talked with a blonde one. You thought it must've been Ominis and Sebastian.

As you walked down, Sebastian could feel someone was watching him and noticed your eyes on him. While you locked your eyes with him, you sent a small smile before turning back to the Sorting Hat.

''Professor Weasley!'' Headmaster Black called after her. ''We've one more to be sorted,''

''Welcome, you're just in time, have a seat,'' She spoke as you sat on the chair in the middle. You took a deep breath when you felt the hat on top of your head.

You were nervous and always wondered in what house you belonged to. Sure, you've taking dozens of quizzes and even in your game got you placed in Hufflepuff. ''Ah yes,'' You heard a voice inside of your head.

''A bit older than the others aren't you? You come here with preferences and preconceptions, certian expectations,'' The sorting hat told you.

''I know where to put you, better be Hufflepuff!'' You smiled as you felt the hat was removed from your head. You wondered how this was going to be and you knew that this was just all a dream before you were going back to the real world.

At least that what you hoped.