#and only say it once because that’s my husband

[yanderestarangel]

⊹₊⟡⋆ 𝓯𝓾𝓬𝓴𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓸 𝓪 𝓶𝓸𝓷𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻... 𝓯𝓾𝓬𝓴𝓮𝓭 𝓫𝔂 𝓪 𝓶𝓸𝓷𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻

♡⁠┊TW — dp, anal sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, monster fuck, praise, breeedkink, afab reader, dark smut, dead dove, Ghost has two dicks here (because I chose to write it like that)

"Don't look anywhere else, look at me... I'm still your husband." The words were followed by the wet sound of the two cocks of your now radioactively-rayed husband, who looked like a monstrous anomaly — with two extra heads, two extra arms, and... two extra cocks.

You hadn't expected that in thousands of years, but when Simon came out the door completely safe and sound, looking like that was shocking and at least scary to your eyes.

Even so, you were on your hands and knees, feeling one of his cocks enter your ass while the other filled your wet pussy, making you whimper loudly as you felt his very hot and heavy balls hit your clit with the slow thrusts that the military man was giving you.

You could feel every pulsing vein of his shafts in your wet holes, the slickness between your thighs and his groin increasing. His now gray eyes were locked completely on your figure, two of his four arms gripping your waist while the other two held your wrists behind your back, ready to dominate and maneuver you as he pleased.

Hearing your moans of acceptance, his two cocks throbbed like never before, impaling you to the point where you even forgot that your partner was now a shadow of what he once was.

All that mattered in that moment was that you could take every inch of what he was giving you, as if your life depended on it—as if every fluid that came out of his cocks was a poison that made you crave more and more of him.

The slow, flesh-to-flesh pounding that had once been tender was now replaced by Simon's almost animalistic movements above you. A little drool dripped from your mouth as you could only wriggle your toes every time one of his cocks reached the tip of your womb while the other kissed limits you didn’t even know existed.

Grunts escaped his lips, muffled by the mask that was now completely part of his skin, fused to his flesh like a second garment. His fingers dug into your flesh hard enough to leave marks as a hoarse growl came from his throat, echoing like a triad through his three heads.

"Come on, sweetheart... I know you want to cum, don't deny it... cum for me." His words were tinged with the same honey that once soothed your soul. It was still him, even with that new body—and you felt yourself becoming addicted to it, like a drug, leaving you with pleasure so intense it made your system shut down.

You felt him give one final thrust, and at the same time, your pussy was filled with the warm, viscous liquid of his semen. Your other hole was filled as well, causing tears to spill from your eyes as you whimpered from how full you were. But your partner didn’t stop—Simon continued with small thrusts until he felt your inner walls drain him. One of his many hands moved to your pussy lips, slowly opening them to expose your tight slit as it swallowed his cock.

"I won’t let you leave here until I see you beautiful, full, and carrying my children in your belly... Do you understand, my angel?" His words left no room for argument, and no matter how tired you were, saying "no" wasn't an option. After all, you wanted him too, regardless of his appearance. He was still yours.

[watcherintheweyr]

I can't believe I'm writing this

To open up with: IT IS ABSOLUTELY OKAY AND VALID TO BE DISAPPOINTED BY THE LACK OF WORLDSTATE CUSTOMIZATION IN DRAGON AGE THE VEILGUARD. I have my own disappointments about it!

Ok? We have that covered? We good?

Cool, moving on.

To people who are genuinely, hatefully angry, saying we will now be 'forced into Bioware's worldstate' (when this year alone they've stated there is no 'canon' worldstate more than once), or saying that none of our prior dragon age choices matter, I need you to take a step back and walk with me for a second, okay?

For starters: John Epler stated that one of the reasons they narrowed the choices is because they DO NOT want to invalidate the worldstates of their longtime players. However they also don't want to alienate newer players who don't have the history and lore of the past choices. It's a narrow line to walk.

Secondly, I want you to really look at the choices made by your Hero, Champion, and Inquisitor. Which of those choices genuinely affected NORTHERN Thedas, not Southern Thedas, to the point it would linger for years afterwards? Which of those choices weren't things that specifically affected or altered the sociopolitical Southern Thedas climate and landscape in lasting ways?

The Well? Kieran?

That only leaves that if your Inquisitor drank, they now have knowledge from ages long past... that Rook doesn't need. Rook has a direct line into Solas' history and a possible Veiljumper background, unlocking those very secrets on their own.

It's entirely likely and probable that the Well's fears and threats were a red herring. Think about it. We as a gandom have spent TEN YEARS worrying about the Well, about Solas, about Mythal.

Come June 2024, we're slapped in the face by the big bads of Ghilan'nain and Elgar'nan.

Morrigan likely isn't going to be close and friendly with Rook- so there's likely not much reason for her to tell us about her child or husband if she has them.

The rulers of Southern Thedas aren't going to affect us. We aren't tackling the current world ending crisis from the position of a leader of armies like the Warden and Inquisitor, but as leader of a small task force. The Southern Divine doesn't much affect us either- nor do Southern mage politics or templar politics.

Because Rook is an entirely new perspective.

Because Rook is in an ENTIRELY different sociopolitical climate/landscape.

I DO think there should've been ways implemented to specify your Inquisitor's bonds and personality. I'm HOPING maybe there still are that we haven't seen. But otherwise?

My Warden is free. I can say she's cured her Calling and is wandering the world with Zevran.

My Champion can retire into total obscurity with his husband or be quietly helping said husband destroy the slave trade. Either way.

Your history and choices in Thedas still matter. Your heroes still matter.

They just aren't Rook's focus.

Take a breath please. And stop sending death threats to the devs bc what the **fuck.**

EDIT:

further context from the devs on Bluesky

[entitled-fangirl]

Peculiar (P 0.5)

Cregan Stark x seer!Reader

Summary: After a frightening vision, the reader has to make sure Cregan is okay.

Warnings: misinterpreting the Red mf Wedding 😭

A/n: THIS IS A PREQUEL TO THIS! And based on an ask!

Masterlist

...............................................................

She could cry.

The visions had been getting better. She had been doing better. But suddenly, a horrific sight flooded her mind and she couldn't stop it from happening. 

Stark blood stained the stone floors of a great castle.

"The Lannisters send their regards…" she sniffled. That was all she could remember of it. "The Lannisters…"

She feared what her great lord husband would think when he found out about her… peculiarity. He knew of it only in speech, never seeing it for himself. 

She couldn't let him view what she had become. 

Her handmaiden had told her to keep Cregan at arms distance in order to keep her dreams and visions from scaring him, or worse, casting her aside. 

But she couldn't handle it tonight.

She needed to see that he was okay.

She jumped up and walked out of her chamber, not bothering to grab her robe.

Her feet padded against the cold floor of Winterfell as she ran to his room. 

But once she reached the door that she knew was his, she hesitated. 

She should not interrupt his sleep.

She shouldn't bother him.

She shouldn't…

She knocked on the door and waited.

After a while, the door opened with a creak. Cregan's tired form filled the doorway. He was angry, reasonably so, thinking that a servant had interrupted his sleep. But seeing the culprit to be his wife, he softened his tone, "Whatever is the matter?"

"I… I just… I-" she stopped herself, realizing how pathetic her words had become.

Cregan tilted his head, rubbing his eyes forcefully. "What is it?"

"I needed to see you," she almost whimpered.

He paused and considered her words. "You wanted to see me?" He questioned.

"I needed to see that you're alright," she clarified.

"I am fine," he stated, holding his arms out as proof. "I was abed, slumbering quite peacefully. You have nothing to fret over."

She steadied her breathing, "Right." She rubbed her arm soothingly. "It was foolish of me to wake you. Please forgive me."

"I will if you tell me what caused such a ruckus in your mind," he stated, a twinkling coming to his eye as his mind finally was beginning to wake.

He hadn't gotten to spend as much time with her as he had hoped. She was skittish, and fairly so, but he couldn't find a way to connect with her. 

Perhaps it was because she wished for her own room. Or so Cregan had been led to believe. 

"Well?" He questioned when she gave no response.

"I saw something."

"Alright," he said as he took in her words. "What is it that you saw? Are you alright?"

"No, my lord," she persisted. "I saw something."

Oh.

He knew that she had visions, but he had yet to see the effects of them.

And now here she was, teary-eyed in the night at his door, begging to see that he was alright.

Whatever had occurred must have been quite serious.

He hummed in thought. Rather than saying anything, he moved out of the doorway, motioning with his head for her to come in.

She obeyed and walked into his room. She walked past him and began to observe his chambers.

The room was lit only by the flames of the fire in the fireplace. She walked to the fire to warm her.

Cregan shut the door and turned to her. "Chilled?"

She shrugged lightly as she stared into the flames.

He moved next to her. His hand brushed against her lower back in an attempt to sooth her.

"There was… there was blood," she whispered out. "Stark blood."

He felt a chill go down his spine. "Stark blood?" He rubs a hand down his small beard and huffs. "Sit down. I want to hear it all."

"You don't," she countered.

"I promise to you that I do. Now sit," he commanded softly.

She considered his words then nodded, sitting on the sofa by the fire. She pulled her legs up to her chest and began. "Well, I usually try to forget."

Cregan sat down next to her but left enough room to let her be comfortable. "If you don't wish to tell me, just say so."

"I'll remember. Just… give me a moment."

"Take your time," he remarked sweetly.

They sat in silence for a while.

"The lion will set a trap and the young wolf will fall. Red will rain down… as the king meets his match."

Cregan hummed. "That's a harsh dream, don't you think? Do they always frighten you like this?"

"There was… a feast… a…. A wedding feast. There was a Stark. I'm sure it was you, I'm sure of it. And… and a wife that I… I hope is me. She was with child but…" her voice trailed off completely this time.

"But…?" He pushed.

"But... the wedding was a trap. And you died. It was horrid."

"Do your dreams always come true?"

"Not usually. But… I imagine that they will one day. That day is just not come yet."

He thought for a while, leaning back on the sofa. "Is there anything else of note to this dream?"

"They said something. Before… before we were slaughtered."

His face paled, "You as well?" 

She nodded, "Well… I believe I may have been first. Me and…" the words got caught in her throat. "…the…the child."

Cregan's mind began to go into overdrive. The child? She believed he would ever let something befall her and a child of his in that manner? 

He already felt protective over the non-existent babe.

"What did they say?" He asked lowly as he looked to her.

She continued to stare at the flames. " 'The Lannisters send their regards.' "

Cregan stood and began to pace as he rubbed his forehead with his hand. The other was placed on his hip.

She watched his shadow dance across the ceiling as he moved. "Do you think me mad?"

He paused and turned his head to look at her. "What?"

"It's alright if you do. The people do. I've heard their whispers in the night when they think I cannot hear them. I imagine you whisper as well."

"You are my wife. Why would I ever-"

"-Please. Do not lie to save my dignity." She sniffled. "You have a wife that will surely go mad by her last days. It's alright to admit it."

"You're not mad, nor will you be," he stated forcefully, trying to make her believe it. "Do they speak to you in that manner? Do they say things to you?"

"Sometimes," she answered with a dead tone. She was indifferent to it all now. 

He sighed. "I understand your need for space, but I'd like you to move into here. Permanently. What do you think?"

"I shouldn't."

He marched to her and knelt in front of her. "I want you to feel safe. Wanted." He took her hand. "Whether this vision is the very vision of truth or whether it's all shit, I'm tired of this wall between us. Now, will you help me tear it down?"

She bit the inside of her cheek and nodded.

He smiled lightly, brushing her cheek with his calloused fingers. "Thank you. Perhaps you should rest. It's still fairly early in the night. Enough time to find sleep."

"I couldn't sleep now. I never can after seeing things."

"Hmm. Well… perhaps you'll indulge me by laying by my side as I rest?" He offered, hoping to coax her under the warm furs.

He wanted to further tease her, but stopped himself, knowing that she was working through her thoughts. "I'm only asking for your company and nothing more."

She nodded.

He smiled and took her hand, leading her to the bed and pulling the furs aside. "The journey from your room to this one must have been cold. Were you so concerned for me you didn't grab a cloak?"

When she said nothing, he took that as an answer enough. "Let us get you warm then."

The two settled into the bed, the constantly flickering light from the flames almost leaving them in darkness.

She laid on the edge of the bed. She didn't want to overstep her welcome. She wasn't sure how far that welcome extended.

But his large arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her to him, and a chuckle came from his throat. "I wouldn't invite you if I didn't want you here."

She snuggled into his chest and relished the heat that radiated from him.

"I am sorry I have not been more attentive to you," he mentioned. "I should have been kinder and more welcoming."

"No," she interrupted. "I've pushed you away-"

"-Because I made you feel as if that was the best outcome." He brushed hair from her face. "Don't fret about that anymore. And in the morning, I want a list of those who have spoken unkindly to you."

"What will you do?"

He said nothing, only holding her closer.

As she began to lull to sleep, he smiled. "I won't let a Lannister touch you. That I can promise."

................................................

A/n: dare I make a part 3 when she's pregnant???? And have more visions??? I love how much everyone was trying to figure out what they were

Taglist: @twinkletwinklenotastar, @kidd3ath,@yujyujj, @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @8812-342, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn, @callsignwidow, @a1lexh-blog, @alyssa-dayne, @ethereal-athalia, @ashovertheriver, @dozcan123, @lady-dragon-rider

[bpmiranda]

Ok but can we get married reader finally leaving her husband for Logan 👀

A/N: fluffy, smut, lumberjack!logan x married reader, 18+ f!reader, angst, cheating, unprotected sex, breeding kink?

first part second part

lumberjack!logan wants you to leave your husband, he promises to take care of you, promises he won’t let him hurt you, and you start to consider it because you’re not exactly happy with your spouse

you married out of convenience, you accepted his proposal because that’s what young girls do and desire, a marriage proposal and a house and her mother was so very happy for her, but it wasn’t right

it didn’t feel right, not like it does with logan who is so attentive and thoughtful and he listens to you rather than tell you what to do or how you should feel about a situation, so you bring up the conversation

“‘course i’m happy,” your husband says, irate that you want to have a conversation about your feelings now when he’s getting ready for bed, “i’m still here, aren’t i?” he says with a small shrug

your heart sinks because you know he’s lying, you know he just wants to avoid the topic of whether he believes you were ready to be married so young, he’s a man of security and you were a safe choice for him

“let’s just run away,” logan whispers as you lay in his arms, breathless and sweaty as he caresses your bare back, staring up at the ceiling while you kiss his chest softly, “you don’t need a thing, leave it all”

you decide that if your husband won’t divorce you, if he won’t hear you out, you could just leave with logan, “is this what you really want?” you ask with big doe eyes looking at him and he brings you up to him

you sit on his abdomen and he caresses your hips as he stares up at you with that little loving smile, “of course i do, you’re everything i want, baby, every morning, you’re the first thing on my mind.”

your heart swells at his words, his honesty, and you nod as you lean down and kiss him, logan returns the gesture as one of his hands comes to the back of your head and his other one squeezes your thigh

“let’s run away then,” you whisper and logan smiles against your lips as he rolls over to settle on top of you, his cock rubs gently against your sensitive clit and you mewl his name, “logan, i love you.”

“i love you, sweetheart,” logan groans as his cock pushes into you, the feeling of your gummy walls around him is a feeling he never tires of and the way your brows knit together is a sight he wants adores

his strokes are slow and deliberate as he watches you fall apart for him, your release coats his length once again, allowing him to easily glide deep inside you, deeper and deeper until you feel him right there

“yes, logan, th-there!” you cry, shaking violently in underneath his toned chest as he kisses your forehead, “don’t-don’t stop!” you sob and he shakes his head, panting over you as he thrusts purposefully

“wouldn’t dream of it, baby,” he breathes out as his cock swells warningly inside you and your eyes lock with his soft, deep green ones as he stares down at you, so taken with you “can i?” you nod desperately

and he comes deep inside you, against your cervix, pulsing in your tight walls while you make out passionately, gasping and breathing hard into each other’s mouths as he milks himself of every drop

logan knows what it means, he’s aware of the responsibility he has taken on, and he couldn’t be more thrilled or grateful that you’re taking that leap for him, that you’re trusting him to care for you

he knows you better than anyone, he knows you in a way he cannot quite explain, but there’s something primal that pulls him to you, urges him to be the one, to be your man, the father of your children

“you’re mine, baby,” logan sighs, enjoying the feeling of how your body gives into him so easily, it’s so natural for you, like you belong to him and have belonged to him for ages before you even met

“all yours, logan, only yours,” you reassure him, not afraid of what might come because you know he’s going to take care of you, he loves you truly and unconditionally and he knows how to care for you

🏷️: @dontfeedthebigbadwolf @peterparkernotfound @httpsells @evasmlp @ayatotiddies @thatlittlered @seasonofthenerd @littlemisscantloveyouback @scorpiosaintt @simpingfor-wakasa @spencerswh0r3 @thatweirdtheaternerd12 @shybluebirdninja @iamburdened @pinkanonwriting

[xoxochb]

⋆·˚ ༘ * if my wishes came true it would’ve been you

warnings: implied sex, percy turns rabid, cheesy ass ending, I’d also recommend reading chapter 2 before this because I tried to make these two similar, and there’s one quote from a touch of malice that I italicized, also this is lwk short as fuck sorry

pairing: percy jackson x daughter of hades and persephone

a/n: I am absolutely BAWLING my eyes out right now I have emotionally attached myself to this series and now it’s over 💔💔💔

series master list

absolutely everything hurts. every muscle in your body— you’re sure you’re going to die. stupid perseus jackson he’s never going to hear the end of this for as long as he lives. but forget that. because you’re sure you had never been as happy as you are now, even if percy was drooling all over your shoulder right now. this can’t be real, was it really? you had escaped your wedding with the horrendous son of poseidon and amphirite, they would be hearing your many complaints soon enough, for creating such an awful child. yet at the same time you thanked poseidon for additionally creating the love of your life

you pinch his arm, quickly proven that this is indeed real when you feel teeth digging into your shoulder making you yelp and push away. “you’re rabid!”

he laughs. the absolute audacity he has to laugh! percy pulls you back into his arms and places a kiss to your bare shoulder where he bit you. “‘m sorry, angel. you did pinch me though”

you frown. “I wasn’t sure if you were real or not”

“last night wasn’t ‘real’ enough for you?”

you scoff and roll your eyes. “you know what I mean, dipshit”

he kisses your skin again, once to your shoulder, next to your mark-filled neck. “I’m real. are you?”

“fuck you”

“been there, done that”

“you’re an odd one, husband”

you feel his smile against the skin of your neck, eliciting giggles from your bruised lips

“say it again. call me your husband”

you sigh but nonetheless request his wishes. but he wouldn’t be receiving exactly what he’d like as punishment for biting you. “husband, would you be so kind as to make me breakfast?”

he’s like a fucking schoolgirl, truly. the reaction you pulled from him, a blush adorning his cheeks, a dream come true. “I’ll cook only the finest of breakfasts for you, wife”

oh how the tables have turned. now it’s your turn to blush furiously. “can we stay here for just a bit longer?”

“‘course we can, angel”

you didn’t even have to ask. you should have known he would have agreed when you felt peppered kisses being pressed over your shoulder, your collarbone, your neck, your jaw, your face, each corner of your mouth and at last claiming your lips once and twice

“perseus-” you begin, but only cut off by the boys lips. “can we-” kiss “I’m-” kiss “I swear to-” kiss

you groan and pull away, covering his mouth with your hand. “percy”

he nods. you press your lips to his forehead and remove your hand. “I hate you”

“aww, I love you too”

“don’t be an idiot”

the second the last word left your mouth percy wasted no time in connecting your lips again. and again, and again, binding himself with you as if he hadn’t absolutely devoured you 3/4 of the night. you pull back for only a second, nose brushing his, muttering a quick “I love you” before he grew impatient

six years of a hidden relationship, six years of waiting for a moment just like this, peace, not worried about your father catching you, and it had all worked out in the end. you’d got your happy ending at last and you were sure you weren’t going to give it for anything, because for a fact you knew, percy was the one

[sw3etnena]

Till death do us part

Summary: Votes are just words when a betrayal is discovered.

Warnings: Angst, physical aggression, torture, false betrayal, Pregnancy.

Author's notes: Let's start with an important fact, English is not my first language, if there is any spelling mistake, blame the translator! Second fact: Votes and reposts are appreciated, so please do this charity. And third fact: I know them, seriously, but I ended up running out of ideas for scenarios, so I got inspired by the Russians (since they have a history)

☆"I, Y/N/S, take thee, Simon Riley, to be my lawfully

wedded husband."☆

Ghost Husband! Who feels the world fall apart when he opens the yellow folder left on his desk, photos of you, talking and exchanging envelopes with a man he knows very well, after all, he was the one who captured him, a member of the Russian force.

He runs through the corridors, all eyes seem to be on him, but he doesn't care, clutching the envelope in his hands as he runs to the cells, where he knows you would be, where you are.

— Ghost… — Price steps in front of him, his hands holding your shoulders, Ghost can't look at him, his eyes fixed on you, hanging, hurt and almost unconscious.

— Did she betray us? — The question seems to come out bitterly, every piece of Ghost collapses when the captain nods reluctantly.

— Andrey Petrov. He confessed things that only she heard besides us. — He explains, and then Ghost pushes him aside, opening the cell, he sees you raise your head.

— Si… — You try with a broken voice, grunting when he squeezes your cheeks.

— We share the same bed. — He interrupts, you notice his eyes shining with tears. — And yet you betrayed me. YOU BETRAYED US!

You flinch when he shouts, pushing away from you aggressively.

— They lied, I-I. — You stop only to watch him rip open the envelope, throwing the photos at your bruised body. You tremble as you look at the photos, your doctor, the one who examined you two weeks ago, who told you in no uncertain terms that a child was on the way.

Did he lie?

— Simon… — Your voice breaks, suddenly you find the strength to face your husband. — He's my doctor, I was…

— Confidential conversations. — He interrupts again, approaching you again, pointing his finger in your face. — That only you heard, only you, me, and the captain, don't fucking lie to me.

— Simon…

— DON'T CALL ME THAT! — He yells, his hands coming up to hold your hair, you scream in pain. — You're nothing more than a traitor now.

Traitor.

'I swear to love and care for you at all times, and if I fail, it's because I'm dead." Simon says in a low voice, a soft smile on his face as he places the ring on your finger. "I swear to have you as my wife for the rest of my life, at all times, I will love you."

— I am… — You try to say, your voice dies when the door is opened once again, revealing a soldier, your colleague, known as “Wasp”.

— Lieutenant… The captain is calling you. — I’m coming. — And then he lets go of your hair, and slowly lifts your balaclava, collecting saliva and then spitting it on your face, the saliva mixing with your tears.

— I’ve already finished what I had to do. — And as soon as he leaves, you know that your world has ended, every piece of it, slipped through your fingers, so quickly, it all started in the morning, when you appeared in the mess hall, and everyone turned to you, until your captain, and best man at your wedding, punched you in the ribs, you fell to your knees, and then you were dragged to a cell.

— Please… — Your voice is interrupted by the scream that escapes, with the sharp pain of the cut on your arm, and then cheeks, thighs and legs.

— Your little friend asked me to say something. — The woman sighs, turning the bloody knife in her fingers. You frown. — It wasn’t fake. What wasn’t fake?

And then your eyes widen, your heart pounding in your chest.

— Listen, I swear I'm not a traitor. — A strong slap is placed on your face, you bite your cheeks before continuing. — You need to tell Simon that…

— Do you really think we're going to believe anything you say? — She questions, getting closer only to put the knife too close to your neck.

— Then go through my sock drawer. — You beg, tears falling. — If you ever had any respect for me, as a partner, at least tell Simon that. She doesn't answer, she just takes the knife away from your neck, grabs a bucket of ice water, and throws it on your body.

It was at that moment that you knew you were going to die.

☆"I promise to be faithful. "☆

You have no idea what time it is. The cell is dark, and now empty, only the sound of water dripping from your disheveled clothes fills the dirty environment, decorated with your blood and dried tears.

No one visited you besides the woman, but you know there's a soldier at the door, you can see the shadow, they all came to look at you, not for long enough, just telling you how disgusted you made them, Kyle, Price, Ghost, they were all at your wedding, they were all your family.

You decide to stop mourning, there aren't many things in the room, but there is the knife used by the woman who tortured you, under a table a few feet away from you.

With difficulty, you manage to free yourself from the handcuffs, your feet finally falling silently to the dirty floor, you don't care, picking up the knife, also ignoring the pain in your broken thumbs.

Hiding is also easy, you just stay behind the door, until you hear the soldier curse, and then open the door, looking for you, who is quick to attack - even with the pain in your body - You press the knife into his shoulder, he grunts in pain, and then you knock him down, piercing just below his ribs, a clean cut, without any damaged area, you were not a monster like them.

You grab the man's boots that are easily too big for your feet, but it doesn't matter, not when you run silently through the corridors, ignoring the silent pains in your body.

Dodging the awake soldiers is easier than it seems, ducking and sneaking, but unfortunately, the emergency button is soon activated, while you hide behind a column, everyone runs in the opposite direction, and you smile mentally, stumbling until you reach the outside, and then into the forests.

During the night, which you discover is cold, you hold your slightly larger belly, it's a search for comfort, and you can't help but pray that he's okay.

You don't know how long you've been walking, but at some point, your still wet body feels heavy, and you find yourself forced to lean against a tree, sliding until you fall on top of the leaves, you sigh, your eyes closing. I'm not going to die.

☆"love you and respect you ."☆

— WHERE THE FUCK IS SHE?! — Ghost screams as he pushes the door, the squad stares at him, clearing their throats.

— She injured one of ours, and then ran away. — Price explains. — All we know is that she ran into the forest.

— She would have to walk more than ten kilometers to find any sign of life. — Ghost grumbles, rubbing his forehead in irritation.

— She must have someone waiting for her. — Kyle suggests.

— And wouldn't they come for Andrey? — Ghost interrupts.

— Y/N could be the real piece, Andrey is probably a pawn. — Kyle explains, crossing his arms.

— He got caught and then he ratted her out, we just need to know how she got someone to come looking for her.

— That doesn't matter now. — Price says, walking around the room. — We need to know what she knew, and how much they know.

And then they go back to Andrey's cell, who is more injured than you, with a broken nose, and yet a splendid smile on his face, the smile of a winner, he starts to hum.

— Не плачь, девочка, мама тебя спасет. — Ghost approaches, his eyes narrowing in her direction.

— What is he singing? — Ghost asks the translator next to him, he doesn't take long to answer.

— Don't cry girl, mommy will save you. — Ghost sighs deeply, holding his jaw.

— Tell me what you know.

— Она такой хороший солдат, мой друг, она девушка. — he says with difficulty.

— She'll make a good soldier, I bet it's a girl. — The military man translates.

— Who is she? — Ghost takes a deep breath, irritation growing in his body.

— Кто она? — The translator asks.

—Это, очевидно, ваша дочь. — He says, looking at Simon with a big smile.

For a moment, even the military man translating stops, his eyes wide and his breath held.

— What the fuck did he say? — Ghost steps away, approaching the translator, who reluctantly looks into his eyes.

— Your daughter.

No. It can't be. I-

It's impossible.

He doesn't,

there's no way,

no-

— Daughter? — His questions come out slowly.

— The one in your little wife's belly. — The prisoner says with an accent, his voice thick and drawn out, his smile seems to widen, and suddenly Ghost feels suffocated.

— I'll kill you, you son of a bitch! — He grabs the man by the collar, his eyes locked on his, who shows no sign of lying, Ghost feels dizzy. — She's not pregnant, she would have told me!

— Она сказала, что планирует рассказать

— She said she planned to say it.

— Она сказала, что хочет чего-то романтического.

— She said she wanted something romantic.

“Baby, what do you think of this?” You ask sweetly one night, sitting on Simon’s lap, scrolling your finger on the screen of your phone.

“Why something so fancy, baby? We’re already married, aren’t we?” Simon jokes, mentally noting the name of the place.

“I want something special for us, Si.” And then you kiss him, he kisses you back, so sweetly, wrapping his arms around your waist.

— Папы не существует, мама его убьет. — He continues to hum.

— Daddy doesn’t exist, mommy will kill him.

Simon doesn’t think before running to his quarters, the room they’ve shared for years, he searches under the bed, inside the wardrobes, and then drawers. There are sheets of paper with words and more words, and then:

Positive for pregnancy.

— Simon. — Price runs to the room, stopping at the door only to see Simon kneeling, his fingers trembling as he holds the paper. — Did you find out?

— Find out what? — He looks up at his captain.

— The pregnancy. — Price bites his cheeks, guilt burning in his chest.

— How do you know about this?

— W-we found a… — Price interrupts himself, sniffling softly, trying to contain his tears. — Recorder on her cell phone, hidden in the case.

— S-so she didn’t… — Simon doesn’t need to finish, he is interrupted by a loud sniff from Price, who timidly nods. — Fuck.

Traitor.

Traitor.

Traitor.

“I swear, for the rest of my life, to be with you, when you fall and when you get up.” Simon fell even more in love with your smile, at that moment, you dressed in white, your eyes shining, he finally felt alive.

Kyle, Gaz, Price, Soap, his entire family, present at the best moment of his life.

“And I promise to love you even in the fights, the battles and the heartaches.”

Idiot.

Idiot.

Idiot.

— We need to go after her. — And then they both quickly agree, and stumble toward the rest of the task force.

Little did they know that as their bodies ran through the forests, screaming your name, with nothing but flashlights to light their way, you were no longer there, your body carried like feathers by soldiers in black, barely able to breathe, pale and cold.

— It seems we have a victory. — One of them cheers, the same Russian accent you would hear from now on, a new life.

Or the destruction of it.

☆"In joy and in sadness"☆

[bloogers-boogers]

0*/**/20**

"My first time with Adam... now that's unexpected to write, think or say.. but it was unfortunately anticipated from the start of this whole marriage arrangement.

Where to begin? It was awkward. At the beginning, just by taking our clothes off was a struggle. Seeing for the first time in ages Adam's bare skin again... it felt like a curse, so soft and fragile looking like the human form he once bore. I couldn't dare touch it, nonetheless look at it so... exposed. It was exhilarating to say the least, but I would never admit it out loud to anybody, mostly not to Adam!

One of Adam’s worst qualities is that he was in fact beautiful. From the beginning of time to his worst possible fate becoming a fallen.

To believe Eve ate this man for dinner every night in eden is to envy. And I could now understand Lilith's fantasies of having the first man on fours and willing to take one in.

At first, ofcourse Adam would protest of the mere idea of bottoming, I didn't expect him to react positive or want to be the one to submit. But it was either that or be thrown back to the streets of hell, cause there was in no way a possibility of me ever submitting to Adam. After all, I've done already plenty of favors!

Aside from that issue, haha! There was plenty of more! Oh boy—! You'd think it'd be easy with our history? FUCK NO.

I wanted to scream the moment I had touched his shoulder, his skin burned against my fingertips. Not even the amount of pain I felt from my fall could compare! Okay... maybe I'm exaggerating a little... that shit was painful as fuck. But you get my point!! It was fucking odd!!! There's things an angel can predict but not this! Never this!

I never thought I'd fuck Adam! Adam of all people!!

And he's my fucking husband too!!!

And the worse part, it wasn't even bad. Yes, it started off awkward but it evolved immediately to something passionate and wreckless, the type of wreckless you could almost consider tender. Adam's kisses were desperate and suffocating, it was almost funny how he was trying to catch my pace. Almost. Because it was hot. Cute. CUTE erghhhhgg!!

Husband! Husband! Husband!! That thing is my husband! The thing that wanted to kill my precious daughter is my husband!

His messy hair, his golden sultry eyes, the drool sliding down his mouth while he chanted my name repeatedly shouldn't have been so memorizing under my gaze.

It shouldn't have felt so good to take him. After everything that happened. After all the sacrifices, betrayal and bitterness. It shouldn't have felt so sweet and right for me to claim Adam that night as mine.

The bite marks, hickes and bruises are only reminders of our honeymoon sins.

This is the last I'll ever be touching Adam, but it was sure an experience I'll never forget. A haunting memory."

Previous >> Next

[rkivees]

Seo Hyesook, Cristina Yang, Ellis Grey and the pressure placed by society on women to become mothers

In last week's episode, Love Next Door brought a serious discussion to the forefront of the drama. In a society where women are increasingly pressured to have children due to South Korea having the lowest birth rate in the world, giving a character the space to be honest about how she feels about her place in marriage, motherhood and society was a bold and much appreciated choice so I wanted to talk a bit about it.

Does she love her husband and her son? Yes, not only does she say this in this scene, but she also says it in future scenes, but none of this makes her pain any less real or any less valid. She resented her husband, her marriage life and her son all the same because she was happy as a Diplomat and she wanted to keep that life but now she is a mother and the world is not kind to working mothers. There was this kdrama once who had doctors multiple times say they didn't like hiring women because they soon get married and become mothers and rarely come back to work. I wonder why. Even if you wanted to go back, would you go back to a hostile environment?

Women are told from an early age that they should find a good man, get married and have children. This is their role in society and if they dare to try to break out of it, they are judged and shamed.

That's why this scene made me think so much about Cristina and Ellis, two equally strong and talented characters who are faced with the decision of whether or not to have children. Cristina finishes her act in the show by not having any and she states that she doesn't hate kids, she respects them and wishes them to have parents that want them. She loves her career more and she feels complete like that.

Ellis, on the other hand, had not only one, but two daughters. One was lucky enough to have an adopted family that loved her very much. And then we have Meredith, who was well aware she was not wanted. Below we have a quote of her coming forward in Cristina's defense.

Do you know what will happen to Cristina if she has a kid that she doesn't want? It will almost kill her. Trying to pretend that she loves a kid as much as she loves surgery will almost kill her, and it'll almost kill your kid. Do you know what it's like to be raised by someone who didn't want you? I do. To know you stood in the way of your mother's career? I do. I was raised by a Cristina. My mother was a Cristina. And as the child she didn't want, I am telling you, don't do this to her because she's kind and she cares and she won't make it. The guilt of resenting her own kid will eat her alive.

We get to see Cristina's future if she had children and it's much like Seo Hyesook. They try to overcompensate (they love their kid after all) that resentment while being eaten alive by it or we get women like Ellis, a woman unhappy in her motherhood, that traumatized her daughter to a point she didn't want to be alive.

Ellis never tried to hide her unhappiness and I am not, of course, exempting her for the bad mother she was but I want you to understand that if she wasn't put in this position to begin with, we would not have a traumatized child. Society cannot be absolved of the blame for creating unfit mothers that didn't want to be mothers and children who suffer from that unfitness.

I think it's a discussion that needs to be had, especially since we're going through a time worldwide where women are losing their right to choose and we get told more and more that there's a certain place for us, barefoot in the kitchen tending to our husbands and children.

We have to talk about it, about our choices or the lack of and how our place is wherever we want to be so we won't end up in a position where we resent our lives.

[zablife]

Maybe Johnny having a long day at work, he's tired and his girl gives him a blowjob

Hi lovely, I like the way your mind works! I took this idea and ran with it bc all I could picture was Johnny coming home after a trip to his cute little housewife and both of them finding comfort in one another. I hope you enjoy this short blurb about that!

Johnny Davis x wife reader

Johnny Davis Masterlist

Friday Night

Summary: You welcome Johnny home after a long week of missing each other.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, language, needy reader, blowjob, fem masturbation

The time Johnny was on the road was torturous for you, lonely nights spent on the sofa because you couldn't bear to sleep in an empty queen size bed alone. You'd drift off in front of the television set, only to be woken by the hissing static long after the station stopped broadcasting.

As your bleary eyes stared out toward the golden streetlights streaming in through the picture window, you often thought how different the night would be if Johnny were there to make you feel safe. For a start, you wouldn't have to check the lock on the front door twenty times.

You wouldn’t find yourself wracked by chills either. Once the cool autumn breeze turned to winter gales, you were often tucked beneath several knitted blankets, longing for the warmth and comfort of Johnny’s strong embrace.

When he was home, everything was right with the world. He'd stroll into the kitchen to find you standing at the range, delicious smells wafting from the pan before you'd even served dinner. His raspy voice greeting you as his muscular arms circled your waist, his hips would press into your backside to prove just how much he’d missed you.

After your man was fed, he always helped you with the dishes, though he sometimes got distracted by your sweet, little aprons. You sewed ruffled confections in pinks and yellows, dotted with rosebuds and cherries that barely covered your bosom. The bow at the back always beckoned to Johnny to untie it, freeing you to the touch of his calloused hands. However, he surpassed his desires to help with the dishes, his deep sigh at the last dish a sign of his excitement of things to come.

As you wiped your hands on a cloth, you turned to smirk at him. "Mr. Davis, I think you missed me."

"Damn right I did," he growled, reaching for your hips.

You bit your lower lip as you noticed the flames behind his blue eyes, burning white hot for you. "Is there something in particular you were missin'?" you asked innocently, batting your lashes at him as though you didn't know the effect you were having.

One glance at the tent in his trousers could have told you he was more than ready to have his beautiful wife on her knees before him, but you wanted to hear him say it. There was nothing you loved more than having your husband command you.

Johnny slipped a hand behind your back, unlacing your apron with one deft maneuver. The slip of fabric fell from your neck first, then your waist as Johnny chuckled. "Dinner was real good, baby," he complimented you, patting his stomach with satisfaction. Then leaning forward to place a kiss to your forehead, his voice lowered to a whisper as he added, "My sweet angel keeps my belly full and my balls empty, don't ya?"

You giggled, nodding in agreement. One hand venturing low against the front of his trousers, you squeezed his impressive length as you hummed, "Need me now, don’t ya?”

Johnny nodded slowly, chin grazing the top of your head lightly. “Take care of your old man like a good girl,” he urged, pulling you into the lounge where you could sink your knees into the plush carpet.

Fingers flying to his belt, you pulled the leather from his waist with one quick swoosh, a devilish smile playing on your lips. You undressed him in record time, holding his throbbing length in your hand like a prize.

You always marveled at Johnny's self control in the moment, waiting for you to place his throbbing red tip at your lips. He would never push your head down harshly like other men had done in the past. Your Johnny was a tender lover, always waiting for you to take the lead. It was something you loved most about him. And, if you were honest, it was the reason why you gave so much of yourself to him so freely.

It couldn't be helped, the way your tongue kitten licked the drops of precum. Johnny's hips jerked forward involuntarily and your opposite hand soothed him with a reassuring stroke to his thigh as you murmured, "M gonna take care of you, baby."

And you did, slowly at first, but gaining vigor as you dared to take him deeper into your throat. Even when you gagged, tears pricking along your lash line, you continued lapping along the prominent vein on the underside of his shaft, to prove your devotion.

"Feels so damn good," he hummed in appreciation, which only urged you to continue, fondling his balls for good measure. And when his grunts turned to staccato breaths, you knew he was close to his end. Head tipping back in ecstasy he managed to warn you with a guttural moan, "Swallow f'me, angel."

The salty ropes coated your tongue and you struggled momentarily to contain everything Johnny had to give, hands flying to his hips to anchor yourself. However, you remained in place until he stopped pulsing, your hands rubbing soothing circles against his legs as he came down from his high. It was in that moment that you felt most exultant, basking in the feeling of him towering over you like a god.

You were happy to worship him, cleaning his cock with gentle licks. It was then Johnny held your shoulder, fingers squeezing gently as he slurred, “S’enough, babydoll.” His stormy gray blue eyes opened to look down at you, hand raking through your hair to get a better view of your angelic face, flushed from effort.

As he began to pull his hips back, withdrawing from the hot clasp of your lips, you whined in protest. Fingernails stroking along his thigh in silent plea, you placed featherlight kisses to his shaft so he understood your need.

"Not yet," you whimpered, mouth hovering over him suggestively.

His movements stilled beneath your touch, a soft chuckle tumbling from his lips as he stroked your cheek with his thumb. He could never deny you when you gazed at him with that shining admiration, eyes bright as stars.

He suppressed a shiver as your breath ghosted over him, trying to relax despite his heightened sensitivity. A lazy smile spread across his face as he granted you permission. "Alright, keep me warm til I get hard again," he uttered in that low, gravel filled voice that made your insides turn to jelly. He motioned you toward the sofa and you followed without hesitation, collapsing on top of him with a wide grin plastered to your face.

Delicate fingers guiding him back to your eager mouth, you watched Johnny sink into the sofa cushions with a shaky sigh and the sound made your cunt throb. He was on the verge of overstimulation, hand clenching around a cushion as you laved his velvety skin with your tongue. However, he endured the exquisite torture for you, to listen to your purr of contentment.

This time your movements were painstakingly tender so as not to cause him any discomfort, mostly allowing the weight of him to press against your tongue pleasantly. Being caged between his thighs, the taste and scent of him enveloping your senses, gave you a feeling of security you never wanted to leave.

As your eyes fluttered closed, Johnny's hand threaded into your hair pressing your cheek to rest against his thigh. He gazed down at you lovingly when he felt the slow undulation of your jaw against his leg, heart nearly bursting at the sight of your swollen lips suckling him. When your breathing slowed, he rubbed your back asking, "Tired, angel?"

The question roused you instantly, no intention of sleeping anytime soon. You fumbled with the hem of your dress, raising it to your waist and pushing your underwear aside so Johnny had a good view. Then you began rubbing tight circles over your pulsing bundle, gathering your slick before slipping two fingers inside yourself.

Johnny's eyes went wide with feral desire, cock stirring with each small pulse of your hips into your hand. He urged you toward your peak with rumbled whispers of filthy praise. "Look at ya all filled up. My pretty baby."

You keened at his words, back arching and a little moan caught in your chest as you realized he was getting hard. As his girth swelled in your mouth, you savored the salty remnants of his first orgasm and the beginnings of another. If only he knew how good it felt to have your belly warmed this way, you thought before your mind went cloudy.

As Johnny felt you quiver beneath him, his hand snaked downward groping your breasts and a spark of fire ran down your spine. He delighted at the way your brow began to twitch and how your toes curled at his ankle before you gave into the wave of pleasure cresting within. Suddenly your mouth parted in a muffled cry of pleasure, warm saliva spilling over your chin and dripping onto his balls.

"Oh, fuck, darlin'," he exclaimed as more blood rushed to his cock, the spongy tip pressing against the inside of your cheek insistently. There was hardly any time to recover before he was lifting you up from between his legs to pepper you with kisses, more than ready for round two.

[sparklingcid3r]

Do you have headcanons for the Curtis parents

HELL yeah i do‼️ a lot of these are inspired by my own childhood bc i got nostalgic😭

- I’m gonna call Mrs. Curtis Josephine because I saw it once and ran with it, also it’s not fair we don’t know her name :(

- But in my head, Josephine accidentally got pregnant in her senior year to Darrel Sr., who’d already dropped out of high school, and they decided to keep the baby, and Josephine ended up dropping out

- Josephine’s parents were furious over the situation, both her dropping out and getting pregnant to someone like Darrel. They kicked her out of the house

- Darrel worked like hell to provide for her and his own family put up money for them to try and help, but it wasn’t much. Despite that, they were happy

- Shotgun wedding! Not a big thing or anything, Josephine wore her patchy homecoming dress and Darrel’s mom sewed up one of her husband’s suits for him, and it was a quiet affair

- Darry lowkey tricked them into thinking parenting would be easy because he wasn’t a crier even when he was born. He was well-behaved and didn’t cause them that much stress. Like he still cried but not nearly as much as a normal baby would. It was a little nerve wracking as they wondered if something was wrong with him or if this whole parenting thing was easy asl

- Uh yeah so then Soda was born

- Josephine had bad post partem depression after Soda where she couldn’t spend a lot of time with Soda and kind of used Darry as a crutch, spending more time with him as a result was Darrel spent more time with Soda. I imagine this being the reason Soda took on more of his dad’s mannerisms while Darry took his mom’s

- Slowly Josephine started coming around, but it was still hard. She spent as much time as she could handle with Soda, but Darrel always told her not to pressure herself and that she just needed to give it time, but he was anxious about the situation too

- Darry was actually the one who coined Pony’s name. When Josephine was pregnant with him, she let Darry and Soda touch her stomach and feel for him, and Darry said he kicked like a pony and Darrel and Josephine looked at each other like 👁️👄👁️☝️

- Originally it was just going to be Pony, but Darrel started saying “How’s our Ponykid doing in there?” and so when he was born and they found out he was a he, Josephine switched it because she didn’t want him to be called a kid his whole life

- Josephine was the cook of the family, but some days Darrel would make pancakes for the family while Josephine would make faces out of syrup and fruit for the boys

- Same with the grill, Darrel would ask for everyone’s order: burger, cheeseburger, hotdog, and Josephine would help them making faces and (not very good) pictures with the ketchup

- Darrel always woke the boys up saying “Time to make the donuts!” and while Darry and Soda knew what that meant, it took Pony a little longer to stop getting disappointed when there weren’t any donuts waiting for them in the kitchen

- Josephine was the one who tucked the boys in, but Darrel usually came in a few minutes later to say goodnight to them as well, and if he hadn’t shaved that morning he’d rub his face against theirs without them expecting it and hurt like a mf, Soda swore he’d always be clean-shaven

- Even though they didn’t call him Superman, Darrel was the one they all associated Superman with. Before closing their doors at night, he’d always do the motion of ripping his shirt across the middle as if to reveal the logo on his chest, so Pony calling Darry Superman meant more to Darry than he ever wants to admit

- Josephine was always singing or humming, just making music. When she was cooking, cleaning, doing the laundry, music was always going in the Curtis home. I’m pretty sure in the movie there’s a piano in the house, and it absolutely belonged to Josephine. She tried to teach all three of her kids how to play, but Darry was the only one who really took to it

- Josephine could have died from joy hearing Pony and Soda singing Andy Williams and Hal David off key while Darry stumbled through a song on the piano

totally feel like i could go on about this family, they mean so much to me🙏

[reverieblondie]

The Dark Prince: Chapter 2, First Night in Waldemar

Paring- Dark Prince Rolan x Blessed Princess F!Tav

Warnings- 18+ MDNI, will include violence and smut, and two pinning idiots. (In this chapter... we get steamy...) Fingering, clothes ripping, Scent kink, Unprotected sex. Its the first night in Waldemar

Summary: Two carriages arrive to Waldemar... and the couples first night as husband and wife begins.

A/N: I want to give a huuuggggeeeee thank you to @sav-not-tav and @vera-king-hrfl for sending me some Rolan gifs and Screenshots for me to use for this series! I will be giving them a shotout every chapter, this one is from Sav! Thank you my lovely! Another huge thank you to my Sweet Anon for helping me with writing and editing this story! If you love anything Astarion says its because of them! they have nailed his characterization and have helped me soo much with this story!

<- Chapter 1 The Union

Though this is the night that many young lovers dream of after they have spoken their sweet promises to one another… when your wedding, your union is a tactical arrangement. One of political gain, it can turn a night meant for romance into a night of lines drawn in the sand as two people get to know each other for the first time.

The two newlyweds were not in particularly chatty moods during their separate carriage rides; the atmospheres were relatively peaceful, though not entirely quiet. Though conversations didn’t go directly to them, the respective courts figured it would be best for their Majesty's to have their time to themselves. However, that is only one reason they defy convention… what exactly could someone say to another who has married a stranger? Congratulations or a sorry? 

Tav used her time to cool her nerves with a book. Though things in the carriage are calm now, it didn’t start that way….

Tav had spent the first little while of the trip trying to convince Shadowheart and Lae’zel that she wasn’t insulted by the proceeding events at her wedding or her husband leaving her so quickly. Tav was met with only a suspicious stare from her lady-in-waiting and a scoff from her knight that such a weak lie was beneath her; the newly made Queen conceded in a hushed voice that yes, fine, perhaps she was a tad insulted, but quickly followed with slightly more insistent whispers and a calm hand that the githyanki needs to put her sword down as it was still unnecessary.

All the while, Tav could hear her other knight and the older armored tiefling, General Zevlor, talking amongst themselves from where the two men sat outside, taking turns steering the horses that pulled them along. Tav couldn’t help but smile as Wyll went from merely swapping polite small talk with the general to hearing them exchanging hearty laughs and pleasant words. Wyll always makes getting to know people look so easy and effortless… maybe she could learn to be as charismatic, might make getting to know the King easier. 

In Rolan’s carriage, the new King largely kept his gaze turned towards the outside, his eyes skimming whatever part of the landscape he could see for the lights of Waldemar’s capital. Sitting across from him, the two vampiric elves chortled between each other, showing off the silver, pearls, and ornate rings they each had swiped from the various wedding attendees. The newly made King knew he probably should have frowned at those associated with him acting in such a matter, but he found it hard to bring himself to care about such things, so he simply didn’t bother. Rolan barely paid it any mind as the two vampire spawn continued trying to one-up each other, only briefly interjecting if their banter began to tip into bickering or if they snapped at Aurelia when she tried to do the same as she steered the carriage, as his mind was preoccupied with more important matters. More than once, he caught himself drumming his fingers or tapping the end of his tail against the padded seats as he impatiently waited to return.

The two well-made carriages made good time; the no-man’s-land between Sivailon and Waldemar rarely suffered from bandits thanks to Halsin and the other druids who lived there. Though anyone foolish enough to try and steal from the dark prince…the dark King would be met with a cruel fate… so many don’t even dare…

Tav eventually finished her pre-wedding reading, leaving the new Queen with little to do but wait. She had known that things would not completely change in a handful of hours, but she had hoped to have gotten the chance to establish even the smallest amount of rapport with her new husband and co-ruler; there was only so much one could learn from reading, especially when most material she could find on Waldemar was about the... previous rulers... and thus was potentially out of date.

She supposes she could ask General Zevlor her questions, but as she listened to Wyll and the older tiefling continuing to converse amicably and even levity...

No, Tav decided, I can’t do that to him.

She knew Wyll would have removed himself from the conversation in a heartbeat to make way for her, but she also knew more than just her own life was changing this night; Wyll, Shadowheart, and Lae’zel’s daily lives were all changing so that they might stay by her side in a new kingdom. No matter how willingly they came, the least she could do for her friends was to allow them the opportunity to forge connections of their own the way Wyll was doing now.

The way she wished she could be doing right now...

For now, Lae’zel seemed content to keep her piercing gaze trained outside, watching the landscape pass by. Shadowheart was quick to notice when Tav began to grow restless. It wasn’t long before the cleric started discussing what she knew regarding the caravans meant to transport their personal effects to Waldemar palace over the next several weeks. Lae’zel would occasionally chime in to point out a few naturally formed landmarks or potential hazards once they were well beyond the ill-defined boundaries of the no-man’s-land of the druids and the kingdom of Waldemar. Tav gratefully accepted the distraction her friends offered.

Eventually, in what felt like no time, Lae’zel alerted the two Selûnites of the lights from Waldemar’s capital city, which were now barely visible in the distance.

Both carriages slowed to a stop, and Tav heard the sound of moving armor as General Zelvor once again relinquished the reins to Wyll. The older Tiefling made his way to the carriage door.

Gathering the skirts of her dress in one hand, Tav gratefully accepted the general’s offer of a gauntleted hand to help her down. When she looked towards her husband’s carriage, she was nearly startled upon seeing how close the three vampire spawn had gotten; the pale, elfin man was already leaning against the carriage wheel she had just exited, and the other two were not far behind.

How had they moved so quickly without making a sound?!

The vampire leaning against the carriage raised a hand as if to shoo aside a squire, “If the moon princess would be so kind as to make way...”

A flash of embarrassment shook Tav out of her brief stupor—at least, she hoped it had been brief—and she swiftly stepped away from the carriage door. Her nerve-weary mind didn’t even register what the vampire had said until she saw the angry expressions of Lae’zel and Shadowheart looking out of the carriage to glare at the elf as he sauntered over to the threshold.

“So which of you lucky ladies gets to aid me into the carriage?” the pale elf crooned as if speaking to a pair of swooning maidens.

Shadowheart schooled her expression into one cold scorn, “Keep talking like that, and perhaps we will leave you to walk the rest of the way.”

Astarion tsks his lips before flashing a sinful smile, showing off his fangs, “Touchy, touchy flower, can’t we all be friends?” 

Tav could still hear the verbal barbs the two groups exchanged, even though she couldn’t make out the words by the time General Zevlor was helping the new Queen into her husband’s carriage. As she settles beside her co-ruler, she thinks she hears a blitter scoff from the Dark King. When she looks towards him, she only glimpses the glow of his eyes for a moment before he’s looking out the window again towards the lights of Waldemar’s capital. She doesn’t have long to dwell on it, for soon the general has taken up the reins of their royal carriage, and they are once again moving towards the city; a quick glance out the window confirms that Wyll is steering the other carriage to follow them—even as it seems he has to call over his shoulder at its passengers.

As the carriages ride forward, the people of Waldermar wait outside in the moon-bathed darkness, holding lamps and candles, to catch a glimpse of the newlyweds. Within their carriage, where usually a couple would share in smiles or lustful whispers, Tav and Rolan share in silence. 

It was only a handful of seconds before the Tav began to mindlessly fidget as the silence sat between them like an unwanted passenger. There were countless possible conversation starters, questions she wanted to ask him, but all either fled from her mind or the words died in her throat whenever she opened her mouth; her husband still hadn’t looked at her since she entered the carriage, instead keeping his glowing eyes trained out the window towards the lights of Waldemar’s capital.

With how close the two sat, Rolan was consistently aware of his new wife’s shifting and fidgeting, even as he kept his gaze focused on the horizon, and his mind focused on more important matters. The newly made Queen had shifted again, causing his eyes to roll. He wondered if perhaps she was trying to put distance between them, possibly trying to escape his infernal heat that was undoubtedly prickling at her skin with how close they sat to each other, or perhaps she was uneasy now that she was once again forced to be beside a hellspawn—beside the fiendish usurper. His Queen adjusted again, and he found himself wishing she would have just sat across from him rather than try to suffer through his proximity in silence like some sort of martyr.

A thought occurred to him about the people who would be waiting to see the new royal couple—to see her. He had given them a proper Queen to fawn over. Unlike himself, she is innately touched by the divine and from proper nobility... but if she is visibly frightened of him…

Rolan contemplates if he should say something, remind her they both needed to look presentable or try to comfort her.

Comfort her?

Rolan wants to scoff at the idea.

I don’t even know how to comfort Lia and Cal.

Before he could stop himself, his eyes briefly flick over to the stranger sitting beside him; luckily, she didn’t appear to have been staring as he’d been expecting her to, so she probably—hopefully—hadn’t noticed his glance. He wasn’t eager to get dragged into a conversation with her. He was even less interested in having to deal with his new wife sneering at his sharp teeth or recoiling from his clawed hands.

Rolan was only distantly aware of how the impatient flick of his tail lapsed into it, lashing across the excessively padded seats. At least until it smacked against a gown-covered leg, eliciting a startled ‘Oh!’ from the woman beside him.

Growing frustration is quickly replaced by a flash of embarrassment as he whips his stupid, mindless tail away from her as if the contact has burnt him. Her eyes met his a moment later, and he realized too late that he had ended up staring.

Tav watched as her husband once again angled his face away from her. Clearly, he had been as surprised as she’d been, at least if his wide-eyed expression had been anything to go off of. She had met a few tieflings before and knew that, for many, their tails were part of body language.

Perhaps the Dark King is nervous, too? Or maybe he was irritated...

Once again, Tav keenly felt the absence of understanding. She knew there would be a great deal to learn. Still, she’d hardly anticipated how... daunting it would be to ask.. Biting the inside of her lip, Tav debated whether she should say something or maybe take a shot to lighten the mood? Tav eventually shelfs the idea before returning to the uncomfortable silence between them.

So, she nearly jumps in her seat when the Dark King speaks up.

“Pardon me…” his eyes once again glancing at her, more specifically where his tail had thumped against her leg.

It was not exactly the conversation she envisioned, but she still found herself with a small, slightly relieved smile: “It’s alright.”

The long, low sound of a horn echoed out to herald the arrival of Waldemar’s new royal couple, causing the pair to look out the windows again as both carriages finally passed through the threshold of the city’s gate.

Up and down the city streets, hundreds upon hundreds of people hold up the warm lights of candles and lanterns, like a sea of flickering stars that had fallen from the night sky and parted to let the royal carriages through. They look on with eager eyes, ready to catch the sight of their Queen. 

They gaze up at her with awe, and some even begin to bow as the carriages, now moving at a slightly slower pace, pass by. It’s not until Tav’s eyes meet with a young child sitting perched upon the shoulders of another onlooker, both smiling up at their new Queen, that she snaps out of her daze. She waves and smiles at the people, though only a few of their expressions are fully illuminated until a sudden burst of light draws the crowd’s attention.

The people seem awed and intimidated in equal measures, though no alarm is raised. Tav glanced around in confusion before quickly noticing a soft glowing light between the Dark King’s palms while he recited something under his breath.

His clawed fingers curl and flex gracefully as what started off as a small mote of light steadily grew into a whorling orb of colors. Tav feels almost hypnotized by the beauty of his spellcasting, watching as the magic is pulled and shaped between his hands without slipping from his control.

Then, in one smooth motion, he stands and tilts his hands toward the carriage window. The whorling orb blooms into a dazzling spray of colors blazing overhead, which the crowd receives with quiet sounds of wonder.

They aren’t the only ones moved by the display, and Tav lightly brought a hand to politely cover her slack-jawed expression as she watched the spell’s aftereffects, still artfully coiling through the air even as it faded. She’d known Rolan was a wizard, and tales of his terrifying power were still circulating throughout the Sivailon court, but she hadn’t been expecting the beauty she had just witnessed.

It’s as if the obvious hits her once again she looks out to the streets. This is Waldemar, the kingdom born anew through revolution. Glimpses of old bricks paired with new ones show the repair after the revolt three years ago. She is in Waldermar—the kingdom and the capital city—ruled over by the usurper and now, by marriage, her.

The Dark King continues to garner the crowd’s attention as he releases another spell to go twisting through the air, replacing the last one that has since dissipated. Tav’s fingers fidget once more as she hesitantly pulls on the innate magic in her veins. She feels it rise within her, like the ebb and flow of the tides pulled by the moon.

Should she join in? She knows her magic will be different from his, but... What if this was a new custom she wasn't privy to? If this is important to her new husband or the people he rules, she should try her best to participate before giving the wrong impression.

The new Queen abruptly stands, drawing Rolan’s attention. He maintains concentration on his last spell with little difficulty as he watches her softly mutter an incantation, stopping and repeating herself as if unsure of her recital. She moves her hands in a manner familiar to him, though her motions are more strained and tense. It is as if all her concentration is going to what he recognizes as a relatively simple spell. The magic of the spell waxes and wanes far more than it should. Her hands move more frequently than such a simple casting should require as she goes back and forth between needing to stop the spell from unraveling itself and needing to keep it from fizzling out.

It’s painfully clear to his learned eyes that she is untrained.

He wants to scoff but holds it in, Typical sorcerer.

They call her a ‘divine soul,’ but he supposes the princess has been too worried about her dresses and tea parties to focus on honing her innate magic.

At least she isn’t trying to cast with her pinky raised.

Once the spell was not immediately at risk of dissipating in her hands, she rushed to throw it up. Dancing lights, a mere cantrip, just as he had predicted... The silvery-blue motes drifted through the crowd, the light rippling instead of maintaining the soft, steady glow it was supposed to have, and every slight bump of the carriage seemed to strain his Queen’s ability to maintain concentration on the spell.

It’s unpolished and sloppy, but the people cheer in awe anyway; some even clap or weep as they praise their new Queen, blessed by the moon herself. Rolan bites back his frustration. Perhaps with proper guidance and a more practiced hand, she would have potential, but that was hardly his concern. All that mattered was that her magic came from the divine, and the people knew it. Let his detractors cry out against and cower before his infernal blood, but now they could placate themselves with her presence.

Eventually, they pass through the castle’s massive gates, and Rolan slowly releases the hold of his spell, allowing the display to fade away as he returns to his seat. His new Queen seems to follow his lead, rubbing her hands as if the dainty things had been strained from casting her little cantrips. This time, he is more mindful of his tail, making sure the appendage stays away from her as the tip of it sweeps against the floor in silent anticipation for this ride to be over.

Meanwhile, Tav takes in the large palace of towering cobblestone where she will be conducting her queenly business. It seems as if light is spilling from every window, like every candle within had been lit in preparation for their arrival. Idly, she wonders how the castle compares to the one in Sivailon. Both kingdoms were old, though neither was meaningfully more ancient than the other. Hopefully, Waldemar’s palace would not be dissimilar from her Sivailon home.

General Zevlor eased the carriage to a stop right at the front steps of the castle, where two rows of well-armored soldiers, many of whom seemed to have horns or wore helms styled to look as such, stood on either side of the path leading to the threshold. Three teiflings seemed to be waiting by the entrance; one was a tall, muscular woman with a broken horn and ruby red skin, the next was a shorter woman with periwinkle skin and was dressed in a colorful ensemble, and last was a young man wearing a wide smile while his tail swayed back-and-forth as he watched the carriage with clear giddy anticipation.

The Dark King was the first to step down from the carriage, and it seemed his boot had hardly touched the ground before the three tieflings came forward.

“Rolan!” The young man of the group rushed forward with his arms out.

Tav was practically in shock as her husband rolled his eyes but didn’t hesitate to meet the young man’s embrace with one of his own. This was the friendliest he’d been all evening, and if the new Queen hadn’t frozen mid-exit, she is certain she would have slipped out of the carriage from sheer surprise.

“Welcome to Waldemar, Queenie!” a sudden boisterous voice called out, making Tav jump as she looked to see the woman with the broken horn swiftly approaching. “Here, let me help you down.”

Where Zevlor had cautiously offered his hand to help, this woman firmly scooped Tav up with both arms before setting her back down with ease. Tav had to admit being hoisted and carried, even if only for a moment, had her cheeks warming—though a distant part of her mind recalled how the stories typically had one of the newlyweds carrying the other rather than it being done by a beautiful stranger with a smile that seemed bright enough to be its own source of illumination.

“Karlach, weren’t you advised not to help people down like that anymore?” The other tiefling woman—who on closer inspection seemed to be dressed in a set of performance attire that complimented her physique beautifully—said while approaching with a polite smile of her own that didn’t hide the concern in her eyes, “Besides, that’s not how we should approach… nobility…”

Beyond those words, an otherwise unspoken exchange seems to pass between the two tiefling women, though it is over so fast that the true contents are known only to them.

“Right.” The bright smile on the muscular tiefling—Karlach—dims a bit, becoming slightly embarrassed as she stepped back from the Queen, “Sorry, didn’t mean to… scare you...”

“Oh!” Tav quickly scrambled to find her voice again, “No! You were fine! I wasn’t frightened! I found your warm welcome was quiet- Well- Welcoming.”

Karlach beamed in response before happily turning to the other tiefling woman, “You see, Alfira! No feathers ruffled. Plus, I think Rolan didn’t want me to ‘surprise lift’ him again.”

Tav pressed her lips together, attempting to hide her amusement as she pictured the dreaded Dark Prince being unexpectedly hoisted into the air so casually. She’s almost tempted to ask for a demonstration.

“Please forgive our Royal Enforcer.” Alfira said, her smile slightly more relaxed, “Karlach tends to be quite casual—even with royalty.”

Karlach shrugged, “I’ve known Rolan since before people began calling him ‘Prince,’ and we’ve gotten this far. Don’t really see the point in changing it up just because folks are calling him ‘King’ now.”

“I can hardly see any issues with that.” the new Queen agreed, “One should be able to trust their friends and their court; it’s only natural the two would overlap at times.”

The expression on Karlach’s face somehow brightened even further, and a soft chuckle escaped Alfira before she cleared her throat and attempted to resume propriety.

Tav turned back towards the carriages, intending to locate her own small court of friends and wave them over so they could be introduced. She then froze as she spotted the vampiric elven man glaring at her. His mouth twisted further into an unapologetic sneer as their eyes met.

The sounds of bickering help Tav tear her gaze away to land on her friends. Wyll had paused from regularly chiding the others to behave themselves while he was handing off his reins to a handful of tieflings who had since emerged to take care of the horses and the two carriages. It appeared he was taking the opportunity to introduce himself to the servants as he helped them unload what belongings her court had been able to pack, though they seemed surprised he was even talking to them. Lae’zel is already sizing up the new environment, scrutinizing everything and everyone in sight as she has all evening. Tav knew that her knight would make it her duty to personally map out the palace within the week and that her friend was waiting to assess if her presence wasn’t otherwise needed before doing so. Lastly, Tav’s gaze falls to Shadowheart, who was showing remarkable restraint considering the vampiric elven woman who was currently trying to drape herself against the Queen’s lady-in-waiting—much to the tiefling vampire’s apparent dismay. The half-elf’s expression was stoic, even as she traded verbal jabs with the other woman, but Tav could see how her friend was internally debating whether or not to borrow Lae’zel’s mace and remind the undead that she was also an active cleric of Selûne.

“Come now, just a bit more of your time.” the elven woman cooed with a mocking smirk, “Our conversation was so enchanting. Why let it end now? Perhaps we could all share a meal…”

“I would tell you to drop dead, but I suppose that still wouldn’t spare me from your chatter,” Shadowheart responded coldly, physically brushing the elven woman off her shoulder before striding away from the three spawns.

“Let our new friend go to her mistress, Violet.” the pale elven man suggested, his tone flippant as he watched the selûnite make her way toward the Queen with a mean-spirited smirk of his own, “I’m sure there will be plenty of chances to grab a bite with them soon enough.”

Cal and Rolan had since released each other, and the newly made King noticed that Aurelia had nervously been glancing between her fellow Tieflings and her fellow vampire spawn. Rolan gave a slight nod, and Aurelia sagged slightly in relief before ushering Astarion and Violet away. Both were clearly less eager to remove themselves from the situation than their sister, but they still ultimately complied with only a minimal amount of complaining.

Cal placed a hand on Rolan’s shoulder to regain the his attention, “So are you going to introduce me to your wife or... ?”

Rolan rolled his eyes, “Don’t start...”

“Can I at least know if I should call her Queen or Sis?”

“You’re not funny, Cal.”

“Come on, Rolan. I’m trying to be happy for you.”

“This is serious business.” Rolan sighed, “Please, just keep the quips to yourself.”

Now it was Cal’s turn to roll his eyes, “Gods forbid we try to be friendly with your new wife.”

Of course, Cal was still concerned about being friendly. Rolan fondly realized he’d be a fool to have expected otherwise, but he brushed the thought aside.

“Where is Gale?” Rolan asked, “Has he gotten confirmation that Waldemar’s settlements received word of their new Queen?”

Cal didn’t respond—instead, he stared past his brother in blatant surprise. Perplexed, Rolan followed his gaze to the Queen’s gith. Rolan gave his brother an unamused look.

“I believe the gith is one of her knights.” Rolan clarified dryly, causing Cal to jump as if he’d forgotten his brother was right there.

“Sorry, I was just...” Cal glanced at Rolan before once again staring at the gith in wonder, “I knew the rumors, but I wasn’t expecting her to look so... I mean, look at those ears; they look like ours but more... elaborate, I guess? Elegant? She kind of looks like an elf but... not an elf...”

“Yes... Very fascinating.” Rolan drawled, pinning his brother with a pointed but quizzical look, “Though I recommend we leave, or you make your staring more discreet before she notices; I have yet to see her without a hand on her sword.”

Cal opened his mouth to protest but paused before sighing as he and his brother moved to enter their palace. Their retreating figures were noticed by the new Queen, who had been introducing Karlach and Alfira to her own court.

Tav hastily excused herself as she went to catch up with her husband. Lae’zel, Wyll, and Shadowheart quickly did the same, and Alfira shared a knowing glance with Karlach and Zevlor before she followed suit.

As the Dark King and the other young man made their way inside, Tav managed to catch up—in heels, no less—and overheard the two already discussing several of Waldemar’s other towns and cities. They evidently heard her approaching as the pair stopped to look back at her, as their conversation trailed off.

“Oh, please, do not stop on my account.” Tav requested, hoping she didn’t sound too breathless, “Though perhaps I could be informed of any important situations as we make our way...”

Her husband’s tail flicks as he regards her silently and unreadably. The other tiefling, who greeted him with an embrace, just glances between the two newlyweds.

Tav hears the footsteps of her court, so she isn’t surprised when they join her, though she hadn’t expected Alfira to be with them.

“My apologies, your Majesties!” Alfira chimed in before addressing Tav directly with a short bow, “The King has assigned me to attend to you, and, as such, my first order of business is to give you a tour of the palace. He has also prepared a surprise for you that should be ready once the tour is complete.”

At that, Tav’s eyes widened, and she again felt her cheeks starting to flush.

A surprise from her husband on their wedding night... She suddenly felt breathless for a very different reason.

“That sounds lovely...” Tav heard herself answer before she and her friends began following the blue tiefling through the castle. Tav turns to see her husband's back walking in the opposite direction without a second glance.

It doesn’t take long before Tav notices Lae’zel beginning to grow restless and impatient, the knight letting out a ‘Chk’ every time Alfira’s guidance repeatedly leads the group from one end of the palace to the other and back again.

The longer the tour dragged on, the more Tav began to share in her knight’s frustration. The Dark King had been distant from her all evening, but she could swallow her own disappointment and accept it. They were practically strangers, and she could understand why someone in that position might be so reserved towards her on a personal level. However, they would inevitably have to face each other if she was to be able to perform her duties as his co-ruler, and yet...

Tav tried to calm herself and remain attentive to Alfira’s words, trying to at least use the time to learn about the palace and its other inhabitants—starting with Alfira herself. Apparently, the tiefling is a bard who specializes in lore, which not only helped explain the woman’s attire but also how she knew so much about the various pieces decorating the castle—although Tav was fairly certain that much of the artwork decorating the place had not been put there by the... previous rulers...

By the time they crossed paths with Karlach again, Tav could tell the meandering tour was wearing on them all. Shadowheart had been following closely at Tav’s side ever since Alfira had led them away from the Dark King to take them on this tour, but now her fellow selûnite was not even bothering to hide how she looked upon the bard with suspicion—although Karlach opting to tag along seemed to help alleviate the cleric’s agitation a little bit. Lae’zel looked down every hall they passed, causing the few servants milling about to scramble away or quickly avert their eyes from the group. Even Wyll seemed to be struggling to maintain his naturally open and friendly demeanor as the group continued to pass by still lifes of grim items arranged in a similarly grim manner, pieces depicting fiery or desolate rocky landscapes, and renditions of frightening creatures ranging from mundane beasts to fiendish beings.

The addition of Karlach’s friendly company could only do so much to soothe the growing awkwardness, especially after Tav had asked about her husband and the Royal Enforcer apologetically relayed that the Dark King was still busy. Tav didn’t even bother trying to ask with what. As frustration and nerves tangled in her mind, Tav found her hand drifting up to fidget with the string of oak leaves around her neck. It was almost a relief when Lae’zel eventually decided to speak up.

“Enough of this farce! Either our guides are unfamiliar with their own domain, or they have been intentionally dragging out this exercise in pointless tedium!” the githyanki snapped before addressing Tav, “My Lady, I take my leave of you for now. I intend to properly learn the layout of this place.”

Karlach visibly tensed, and Alfira appeared to almost protest.

“Very well, I see no problem with you accumulating yourself in whatever ways you require.” Tav replied, her tone calm but leaving little room for argument, “Please, try to be gentle, in both word and deed, as you do.”

“As you wish.” Lae’zal nodded, before making her way down one of the halls and disappearing around the corner.

When Tav returned her focus to the pair of tieflings that had been guiding them, she noticed that the Royal Enforcer seemed to be letting out a breath and had relaxed her posture again while Alfira continued to stare down the hallway after Lae’zel, the bard apparently lost in thought for a moment.

“So, Queenie,” Karlach piped up, a grin already brightening her face again, “Think your knight would be up to doin’ the occasional spar? I bet she is tough as infernal iron.”

Tav was about to respond when Alfira suddenly clasped her hands together in a friendly gesture, the sound of which managed to get the group’s collective attention.

“Karlach, I thought of something fantastic!” the bard exclaimed, “After she sees the ballroom and gardens, I think the Queen would love to see the palace forge as one of the last stops. You and Dammon could even show her around!”

Wyll lit up at the mention of a ballroom and was clearly trying politely to hide his suddenly renewed enthusiasm, but Shadowheart looked at the two Tieflings with confusion.

“You... have a forge?” she asked, “Here on the palace grounds?”

“It was Rolan’s idea to get one added. More convenient to get important repairs done that way.” Karlach happily explained, “And Dammon doesn’t have to deal with bastards going out of their way to cause trouble for him anymore since he started living here, too.”

“And who’s Dammon?” Wyll asked, prompting the Royal Enforcer to get a giddy expression as her tail swayed.

“Only the best damn blacksmith in Waldemar!” Karlach declared proudly, “And my wonderful boyfriend!”

Between Wyll’s barely hidden excitement at the mention of a ballroom and Karlach’s unrestrained joy, Tav couldn’t help but smile. A glance revealed that even Shadowheart’s cool expression had softened slightly.

“I would be delighted to meet him.” Tav said, lowering her hand from the sacred oak leaves on her neck when an idea struck her, “In fact, I would like to ask him about a possible commission for myself. If you don’t think he would mind...”

Karlach’s smile grew impossibly bigger, “Queenie, Dammon will be thrilled!”

“Perfect!” Alfira interjected, “Karlach, you finish showing the Queen around, and I’ll tell Dammon to meet you at the forge.”

The bard didn’t wait for an answer before taking off, leaving Karlach to gleefully usher the new Queen and her court through the palace, the remaining knight inquiring about the ballroom. Alfira rushed through the castle, the decorative bells of her attire jingled as she sped up, running by familiar faces still busy at work in the castle even on this late night. Finally, after racing almost halfway across the castle and scaling a massive flight of stairs, she made it to Rolan’s office. She didn’t even bother announcing her presence before she slipped in and shut the door behind her, causing whatever discussion Cal and Rolan were having to halt at her arrival.

“Alfira?” Cal asked. Her confusion quickly turned to mild concern as the woman made sure to lock the door before facing them. “Alfira, what’s wrong?”

“The gith- The githyanki knight-” Alfira forced herself to speak, even as her lungs still burned for air, “She is wandering the castle unsupervised.”

The bard leaned her back against the solid, intricately carved wood of the door as she caught her breath. Cal straightened up from where he’d been leaning over his brother’s shoulder while Rolan set aside the notes the pair had been looking over before he could risk crumpling the pages in his irritated grasp. The two waiting silently for Alfira to continue.

“I kept the tour going as long as I could, but Lae’zel—the githyanki—grew impatient and is now exploring the palace herself.” She continued after a moment, “I left the rest with Karlach and came directly here.”

“Gods damn it…” Rolan hissed, pushing himself back from his desk.

He hadn’t expected Alfira would need to report to him already. Perhaps he should have anticipated that a princess so used to getting her way would  be the type to so brazenly have her people begin snooping before the first night was out. At least he’d had the foresight to assign Alfira to her in the first place; now they just need to figure out what to do about the wayward gith.

“Should we get one of the spawns involved?” Cal piped up.

“Not practical.” Rolan dismissed, beginning to count the spawn off on his fingers when Cal looked at him with disbelief, “Aurelia, Astarion, and Violet are already faces she knows from this evening. Dalyria is preoccupied with the apothecary, and Leon’s eyes make him too recognizable.”

“Wait, what about Petras?” Cal asked.

Rolan looked at his brother as if the answer should have been obvious, “He’s… Petras.”

“Right...”

“None of them would be able to follow her outside during daylight either.” Alfira added, “Not without the constant risk of bursting into flames anyway...”

“I could alert Minthara.” Cal offered.

Rolan considered it for a moment but then shook his head, “Her time and resources are better spent keeping an eye on Waldemar’s other settlements.”

“Though she should still be informed about this, right?” his brother insisted, “Even if just to make her aware of it.”

At that Rolan nods, “Alfira, you will bring word of this to Minthara as you did me.”

“Understood.” the bard agreed, unlocking the door to leave before pausing, “I’ll need to take a detour first... and grab a bottle of wine.”

“What?”

“I’m supposed to be telling Dammon to meet the Queen and her court at the forge so he and Karlach can show it to her.” Alfira explained, “I’ll need another excuse for being late to rejoin them.”

Then, she was out the door without waiting for either of them to respond. Rolan leaned back in his chair, running his hand down his face as he let out a heavy sigh. He just wanted to be done with tonight.

“I’ll do it.”

Rolan jerked his head towards Cal, “You’ll what?”

“I can keep an eye on the githyanki.” Cal repeated, “Make sure she doesn’t spy too much.”

Rolan could only stare at his sibling in silence for a moment, “You are aware she could very well be extremely dangerous, correct?”

Cal crossed his arms and looked at Rolan the way he always did when trying to imitate Lia’s and their mother’s stubbornness, “I’ll just have to make sure my staring is more discreet then.”

“Zurgan. Fine!” Rolan bit out, taking off his jacket to remove the harness for the hidden dagger he wore in its specially made sheath, “At least keep this on you and never turn your back on her.”

Rolan practically shoves it all into his brother’s hands, and he can tell Cal nearly rolls his eyes as he accepts it. They lapsed into silence as Cal donned the harness under his own jacket. Rolan forced himself to look down at the pages he’d set aside on his desk as he heard his brother walk towards the door. He forced himself to try to read the words as he heard the door open.

“I’ll be careful, Rolan.” Cal murmured, “I promise.”

Rolan didn’t let himself look up from the page until he heard the door close.

By the time Alfira finally rejoined Tav and the others, they had already met Dammon at his forge, which he and Karlach had shown off proudly. As the blacksmith had explained when asked about Alfira’s whereabouts, the bard had arrived later with wine and vessels from which to drink it. It was Shadowheart who noticed Alfira’s return as Dammon and the others were focused on the sacred oak leaves Archdruid Halsin had gifted Waldemar’s new Queen.

As Wyll helped the two ladies-in-waiting set up an area for the group to sit, Dammon finished his assessment with a nod, “It will take some time but I can do it. I will need to ask Gale about creating a controlled enough charge of lightning to have the silver to ahear to the organic matter of the leaves... Then I will, of course, have to make sure it comes out flawless and that the silver used is pure with no discrepancies… Oh! Then there’s-”

Karlach draped her weight against Dammon, causing him to stumble slightly and break off from his rambling. She followed up with a kiss to his cheek that had him grinning even as he instantly flushed a deeper shade of red.

“In Common, love.” She chuckled with affection as she guided him to sit down with the others. “I think you lost poor Queenie over here.”

Dammon then turned back to Tav, who could only stare wide-eyed as she tried to follow any of what the blacksmith had just explained. A quick glance at the others showed that they were similarly lost.

“Right, right...” Dammon chuckled. “Yes, I can preserve the leaves in silver. It should take about… four days to do it, give or take.”

“That’s wonderful! Thank you!” Tav beamed at the young couple before excitedly brushing her hair aside so Shadowheart could help remove the necklace and hand it off to Dammon.

Alfira began to pour them each a serving of wine as Karlach smirked, “See? What do I say? Best dámn blacksmith in Waldemar.”

Dammon bashfully rubbed the back of his neck at that as Tav smiled at them before softly clearing her throat, “Now, regarding payment... Would you rather I pay you in advance?”

The blacksmith shook his head, “You can pay me once the commission is finished, your Majesty. I know you’re good for the coin.”

“Besides, we’ll know where to find you.” Karlach teased with a friendly wink.

“Yes, I suppose you do.” Tav chuckled, “So, will 7,500 gold be enough?

There is a sudden silence as Karlach and Dammon stare at Tav with wide eyes.

Shit! Was that too low? Are they offended?!

Tav nervously fidgeted with the material of her gown beneath the table, “Or would 10,000 gold suffice?”

Dammon makes a strangled noise that has Tav fearing for a moment that he’d inhaled his wine as Karlach pulled the blacksmith to lean against her patting his back, “Slow down there, Queenie. You’ll give Dammon a heart attack if you go any higher.”

Dammon blindly fumbles for his girlfriend’s hand as he stares off into the distance, “It’s- It’s only a 100 gold job... Any higher, and I might as well be robbing you.”

“Well, I’m glad you told us then. I certainly wouldn’t have known any better.” Wyll laughed, giving the blacksmith a friendly and approving smile, “Seems the Royal Enforcer has chosen a man as honest as he is talented.”

Karlach smirked, “Damn right I did.”

“Then... How about this,” Tav spoke, now more sure of herself, “100 gold for the commission and 100 gold for you delivering it personally.”

Karlach and Dammon share a smile before the blacksmith holds out his hand, “You have a deal, your Majesty.”

With a handshake and an agreement made, Shadowheart points out the late hour, and Alfira agrees that it would be best for the new Queen and her court to turn in for the night.

Though not before Rolan’s gift.

They part ways from Karlach and Dammon, bidding the pair a good evening before the group once again follows Alfira through the hallways. In seemingly no time at all, Alfira stopped at an ornately decorated, which she opened with a flourish before turning to hand Tav a gilded key and gesturing for the Queen to enter.

It’s a beautifully decorated room, with an ornate desk and chair placed in front of a large window, fresh-cut flowers arranged in a variety of gorgeous vases, plush couches, and a grand, luxurious bed. Tav walks around the room, trying to take in everything from the elegant furniture to the tea set with silver detailing.

“These are your quarters for you to do with as you please.” Alfira explained, “King Rolan felt you would enjoy your own space.”

That or he would enjoy keeping his own space… Tav thought before she could stop herself, though she brushed it aside and offered a sincere thanks to be delivered to her husband for the lovely gift.

Alfira bows and then looks towards the others. “Now, I’ll see you both to your rooms. I’m sure the Queen is ready for bed.”

Butterflies erupted in Tav’s stomach as she bid her friends and her new lady-in-waiting goodnight, leaving her alone with her thoughts as the group departed.

Soon, she was pacing around the room. It’s the first time she has been alone this evening, and she suddenly isn’t sure what to do with herself. She tries relaxing, idly casting a few cantrips, and even tries to focus on praying to Selûne… but her restless mind keeps returning to the same thought…

When will her husband join her, and what will they do when he does?

Well… she had a semblance of an idea regarding the latter... Tav stripped out of her wedding gown and removed her jewelry, leaving her to continue pacing around the candle lit room in only the pale blue slip the head selûnite cleric back home had instented on for the occasion. However, as Tav looks at the soft color and the delicate embroidery, she is unsure if this is something that the Dark King would even like. Maybe he’d prefer something else? Perhaps red, low cut, and sheer…

If he were to run those claws over such material, then he could so easily tear it away. Then again he could probably tear any material off her if he so pleased

Her cheeks burn at the thought. She moves across the room quickly to throw open the window, hoping the cool evening breeze will ease her flushing skin and help quell her racing mind.

Leaning out the window, Tav lets the night’s chill wash over her. She tells herself that she shouldn’t be so nervous... Married couples do this all the time after their weddings. Besides, King Rolan is  handsome. Though most couples have had more of a relationship, more conversations before their first night together… She had  hoped they would have had a chance for that after the ceremony. This all would likely be less nerve-wracking then.

Though... Perhaps this is what he likes... Hearts racing, body shaking with uncertain anticipation, getting to know each other’s bodies first when everything is still so painstakingly new...

Tav shakes her head, hardly feeling the night’s chill as her face heats instantly again. Closing the window with a sigh, Tav continued trying to wrangle her thoughts and finish getting ready.

She toyed with the idea of doing something with her hair before ultimately deciding to just leave it down. Then, after finding a few bottles of fragrant oils arranged on a vanity, Tav sat on the canopy bed, slowly massaging them into her skin. She made her body relax, relishing in the soothing motions, how it made her skin feel soft, and how nice it smelled. Hopefully, this would impress him. Tav suddenly pauses from rubbing the oil into the skin of her legs and groans in frustration.

Since when has she ever been so worried about such a thing? Why now?

Again, Tav shook her head. She knew why—of course, she knew—but she wanted this to work. Sivailon needed this to work.

Tav sighed heavily, allowing herself to slump back into her pillows. She spares a look towards the flickering flame at her bedside. Maybe she should snuff the flame out... or that was for him to do when he arrived.

He could probably pinch it out with his fingers... The heat barely had an effect on his warm skin.

She groaned as her thoughts wandered once again, though she didn’t bother trying to stop them this time and merely let her eyes fall closed.

A stirring wakes her, prompting Tav to sit up, her head groggy as she looks out into the darkened room. Someone had extinguished the candle at her bedside, and now the only illumination left is a soft beam of silver moonlight spilling in from the window. Tav’s gaze follows it until she spots movement in the shadows, and then two eyes, like twin eclipses of fiery gold, stare back at her from the darkness.

Tav felt the blood rush to her face as she watched, straining her eyes as she tried to see him better through the dark. With how he moves, she realizes he is taking off his clothes. As if aware of her curious gaze, he crosses through the stream of moonlight, allowing her a fleeting glimpse of his body, revealing he’d already shed his top and his jewelry. As he draws closer, she can just make out his hands, unfastening his belt.

She tries to say something—anything—but breaks off with a gasp at the feeling of his hands softly caressing her shoulders while his glowing eyes roam her face. The Dark King’s body is so close, she wonders if the heat she feels is from him or the anticipation simmering just beneath her skin.

The Dark King guides her to lean back as he joins her on the bed, his eyes burning a path down the silk slip to where he now sits between her legs. He looks back up, his gaze holding a silent question she eagerly answers. She gently nudges one of his hands lower and nods as he drags his dexterous fingers past the sides of her breast to the curve of her waist. His claws lightly trace over the silk, slowly causing her body to arch up into his touch. When he reached where the cloth was now riding up her hip, his hands stilled as he glanced back at her expression again before resuming.

She shudders as he leans in closer, his breath fanning across her ear as his hand dips beneath the hem of the slip and it feels like a tingling fire is left in its wake. Tav watches as the Dark King slowly ghosts his sharp claws up the soft skin of her thighs,  muscles tightening in response to his touch. Her heart pounds within her chest, as his finger wonders then he stops as his finger brushes against the wet spot of her underwear making her gasp. He does it again, more purposefully this time, as he makes a low hum of approval.

The Dark King shifts his position, allowing him to lower his head to the crook of her neck so that he could feel more of her. He smirks as he presses his lips to her skin before teasing her with his sharp teeth before drawing away.

Tav released a shuddered huff, though she could hardly tell if it was from relief or disappointment.

“Don’t worry,” the Dark King whispered into her ear, “I promise to be gentle.” 

Tav reaches up to do her own exploring, blindly feeling along the length of his horns, trying in vain to map them out in her mind. She feels his breathing become more shallow when she runs a hand through his hair, slowly combing her fingers down through it as she carefully tugs him closer, her fingers carefully caressing his chest.

Was that just her heart racing, or was his hammering away too? He pulls back before she can figure it out. The Dark King finally shoves her silk slip further up her body with one hand as his fingers finally push aside her underwear, granting a clawed digit access to trace her wet slit. Slowly he moves up to her clit, so swollen and sensitive to every little touch. Tav’s back arches as he circles the bud. His tail coils around her leg, and he slides an arm under her back. He lowers himself slowly until his weight begins to press down on her. She is torn between wanting to pull him closer and wanting to better explore his body when he returns his head to the nape of her neck, first breathing in her scent before his warm lips start to kiss along her already feverish skin.

They still haven’t really said anything to each other, but maybe they don’t need to. Tav takes a sharp inhale as she felt his tongue against her skin, her husband clearly more focused on using his tongue for something other than words.

Fuck it.

She starts to move her hips softly against his hand, and that is all the hint he needs. The Dark King hooked a claw under her panties, effortlessly tearing the material before discarding it. His hand soon returned to feeling how she was dripping for him. 

Tav lets out a pleading whine and once again feels him smile against her throat. Then he moves forward, his hips nudging her legs further apart and leaving her cunt exposed to him, his eyes watching as she quivers as he drags his length against Tav’s wetness, coating himself in it. The heat of him made her shiver as she fought the urge to grab him by the shoulders and grind her hips on him till reaching her pleasure. He pauses, pushing himself up to look into her eyes. His own were now completely dilated as he brought their faces closer. Then he pushes the tip inside her slowly watching her face contort. She moans at the stretch, a sound the Dark King swallows as he leans in and finally gives his bride a kiss…

Tav wakes with a gasp, only to immediately squint her bleary eyes against the light of early morning. She slowly turns her head to the side of the bed before sitting up to look about the room, only to find herself alone. Her gaze catches on the candle at her bedside, completely burned down to the wick with the last few wisps of smoke signaling how the flame had just recently sputtered out. Tav moves to firmly props herself up as she uncomfortably shifts in her ruined panties—ruined but still on her and in one piece.

He never came…

[talesfrommedinastation]

For Tech Tuesday, I colored in the sketch of my husband as Tech and his grandmother’s psycho dog.

Randomly put Crosshair's tattoo on the old girl and....it works.

Crosshair would totally be a hateful little white Texan shit hound that mauls EVERYONE, kills NONSTOP, pisses on EVERYTHING, and yet, is an absolutely loyal little asshole who lives way too long and looks so fucking SMUG in all her pictures.

"Look at me! I do nothing but hateful garbage all day long, but a rich old doctor's widow and her Golden Child Grandson love me and that's ALL THAT MATTERS!"

----

(I can't say enough about what a fucking asshole Boo the Pekingese was. Boo sucked. Boo bit toddlers, children, old people, Korean War vets, other dogs, mail carriers, construction workers, LDS missionaries, everyone that made the mistake of coming near her. I always gave the little fuck a wide berth whenever we visited.

To clarify, this dog was NEVER abused or anything. According to FIL, GMIL brought her home with her two littermates Mimi and Leela, who were lovely and playful until the day they died.

Meanwhile, Boo marched in, took one look at the massive Art Deco ranch home that was to be hers, and waltzed over to GFIL's art collection from Iran and promptly pissed on it. When GFIL ran over to yank her off, Boo promptly bit him multiple times on the hand and arm.

GFIL almost drop kicked her into oblivion right there and then. Had quite a fight with his wife, GMIL, over Boo, and shortly after, volunteered for Doctors without Borders. Using his retirement and MD to reattach limbs in post-Khmer Rouge Cambodia was preferable to sharing a home with Boo, apparently.

Don't know if that story's true or not, but the incidents are there and Husband's grandpop did serve in MSF/DWB for most of the 90's. I think it's because GFIL was a good person and wanted to spend his golden years and medical background making the world a better place, but who knows. What's a Texan story without insane exaggeration?

Meanwhile, Boo bit my husband, who was a little boy, RIGHT ON THE FACE, when they met. Husband, at only 5 years old, laughed and hugged the dog, despite bleeding from his forehead. I guess he earned Boo's respect there, because whenever Husband came by, Boo would turn from a biting, snarling lunatic to a friendly, happy pup. She'd sit in his lap and let him carry her around like a loaded rifle. I guess once she tasted his blood, but not his fear, things changed. Who knows.

Boo did not have a terrible ending. No. Boo died in her sleep, curled up on GMIL's bed in the warm Harris County sunshine, at age 21. She's now happily chilling in Satan's arms, I'm sure.)

[asscrackcreed]

altaïr spends sm time in the bathroom since he keeps checking out his muscles in the mirror. ezio does the same but with his ass. they are not the same

ezio wants altaïrs ass

altaïr wants connors muscles

connor wants to disown his family

[shannonsketches]

like why did they change where Vegeta was when Cell announced the cell games in the anime

why did they make this vegeta starting shit with yamcha instead of chillin in the lab with his family? why did they take Bulma out of the lab? Why'd they say she was Out while Dr Brief was repairing 16? Why did they change Bulma working on advanced robotics to running in late with her baby?

it's the same scene except: - Bulma's actively at work being a scientist - Vegeta's not being rude to her (or anyone else!) - Vegeta waits for Trunks instead of leaving the room - Cell interrupted the airwaves, which means Trunks and Vegeta were just hanging out with Bulma and Dr B while they were working

Those are all Great Character Details!! That the anime rails against!!

[boylikeanangel]

ok yknow what else. I am so glad they're acknowledging the 180. I haven't really voiced this cuz I was otherwise so excited for this season but I really was on the verge of indignation about them just deciding to make gabriel a goofy sidekick after he was literally the biggest villain of season 1. it really felt like they weren't willing to acknowledge just how much pain he's actually caused aziraphale and crowley and, to be honest, it seemed a little out of the blue that aziraphale would try to help him. but no. they're actually talking about it. it's a central point of conflict for them that crowley rightfully wants nothing to do with this because it's GABRIEL, he tried to kill aziraphale, he's still understandably terrified that heaven will try to hurt him again, and now he wants this guy nowhere near either of them, and cannot understand why aziraphale would have him in his bookship after what he's done. and as for why aziraphale wants to help him, that seems like it's actually going to be explored rather than just accepted for the sake of the plot moving forward. not only have they not forgotten just what gabriel did or tried to do last season, they're placing that lasting fear and apprehension towards him front and centre and are going to have aziraphale and crowley conflict over whether or not he deserves their help. I'm honestly so relieved because I had always been staunchly anti-gabriel and never really enjoyed the fandom's overly jovial attitude towards him, and was genuinely really skeptical when it seemed they were going to make him a sympathetic character in the new season, especially since the trailer played the comedic angle for all it was worth. but it's not just absurdity for absurdity's sake. it's actually something for our main couple to work through. the writing knows this is a difficult shift in dynamic to contend with. and they're directly employing it as an obstacle for aziraphale and crowley. it's really good and it's put a lot of my worries about the overall tone and messaging of this season to rest

[incesthemes]

hey girlie it’s me, sam winchesters gay lover, your mootie 🥰🥰🥰 i just wanted to let you know, that your tags on the post about that wincest video are based and i agree with every word, hashtag slay couldn’t agree more i loved reading your essay in those tags heart ❤️

omg thank you!!! i'm basically only capable of talking in essays whether people want me to or not, unfortunately

i just have a lot of feelings on this topic and the whole "canon or not canon" argument is weird to me; the themes are pretty darn clear in supernatural (it is NOT known for its subtlety) so idk man. they don't have to kiss to be canon. and they don't have to have a romantic relationship to be canon either. how many times do they get into relationships with other people only for it to be treated as cheating/betrayal/abandonment, only for them have to give up that relationship in order to reaffirm their devotion to their brother

that's just what the text says. i'm not under any kind of delusion that they have some secret sexual or romantic relationship, but that doesn't change that sam and dean are each other's most important person regardless of that. which is really awesome imo, that romance isn't treated as more important than whatever horrible thing they have with each other, and that they don't have to consummate their relationship with romance/sex in order for it to be the most important one they have

(and of course there's romantic/sexual subtext, like parallels and metaphors and misunderstandings and jokes, but to me that just provides a solid foundation for presenting this relationship between them as the most important even though it's not romantic or sexual—because this language of romance is the only one we know, really, when it comes to writing important relationships between characters. it's the only one we know in our own personal lives, to a large extent. so you use the romance/sexuality to symbolize the actual bond they have. which is so much worse lmao)

anyway i think spn is fairly unique in this way because of how no other relationships can really ever stand parallel to the one they share; even in other shows that center male friendship, romance is allowed to coexist with brotherhood. for sam and dean, it's not, and that becomes a point of tension and conflict and resolution many, many times over the course of the show. so like yeah!!! just because it's not romantic or sexual doesn't mean it's not canon, in the sense that their relationship is the point of the show, and it is the most important relationship they have. they chose each other above all else, every single time. yknow, it's "the epic love story of sam and dean" and all that