#bard's belly

[bingebard]

i’m stuffed to the absolute max tonight. i’m home alone for the week and immediately took the opportunity to gorge myself.

i honestly didn’t want to stuff myself right away. i had planned on starting out with a water bloat or air inflation… but then i remembered that the corner store nearby sells ice cream… and root beer…

i had my mind set on getting myself a rootbeer float, craving the combination of heaviness from the dairy and air from the carbonation. i quickly bought myself a pint of ice cream and a liter of root beer, as well as a 20oz bottle of tea and a sleeve of crackers. i chugged the tea and scarfed down the crackers while walking home, which made my belly pleasantly sloshy, but i wasn’t full yet.

as soon as i got home, i got straight to making my float. i meant to start small. just a few scoops. as it turns out, my mug is large enough to fit an entire pint of ice cream in, with room to spare. i chugged as fast as i could.

i was still hungry by the time i was done, but my belly was just too sore and swollen to fit anything else inside, so i decided to wait until dinner to see if my bloating went down enough to eat a generous portion. it didn’t, but stupidly, i didn’t let that stop me.

despite how taut my belly felt, i managed to cram in a large helping of spaghetti and meatballs, a chicken caesar salad, an entire box of chocolate, an additional chocolate bar, and cookies, all while continuously chugging water and swallowing air.

i even held everything in all day so that i could be completely and totally full, and… oh man. i definitely succeeded.

my tummy is so tight, i feel like it’s about to split open. top to bottom- completely stuffed. i don’t think i’ve ever seen my lower belly so bloated…

should i take a break, give my strained guts some relief? or should i push myself even further? let me know what you would do if you saw me like this… maybe tell me what would happen if my housemates unexpectedly came back early and found me in this state, pinned down by my swollen tummy, out of breath and desperately holding in all of the little stuffed burps threatening to spill out…?

[myrkky]

Belly dancer Jaskier with 2 outfits

Also a more revealing outfit and a nude version is up on my nsfw twitter @ NastyMyrkky

[shiori42art]

Royalty AU! AU summary below! ✨

(Royalty AU + Omegaverse + a bit Furry)

Mondstadt. Kingdom of crops, large meadows and good wine. Most of its inhabitants are winged beings (For example Jean is an eagle, Kaeya a peacock. But there are other animals like Diluc who is a lion or Klee a bunny!)

It is ruled by Decarabian (Alpha, bluish black wings) and his wife Istaroth (Omega, white wings) Their heirs are the Bard (Who I call Dorian in my AUs until Mihoyo gives me his damn name) (Beta, tan wings) and Venti (Omega, white wings with turquoise accents) they are twins!

Decarabian was unfaithful, her lover was Amos which caused Istaroth to execute her and leave the kingdom, leaving Deca as a single father, LOL. He totally invested in his little children. Super protective father.

Dorian being the oldest for a few minutes and a Beta was chosen to occupy the throne when Decarabian passes the command or is no longer there. He was raised to be the next king, although he hates the word "rule" he prefers to say that he took care of Mondstadt.

But two years ago Dorian contracted the terrible disease of eleazar, he was on the verge of death then but he survived. He now has to rest a lot, suffers from fatigue and muscle pain, sometimes black scales grow on his body causing numbness.

Decarabian searched for the best doctor specialized in the disease, who turned out to be the Fenec Tighnari (Omega) of Sumeru, where this disease is somewhat more common there. Tighnari travels from time to time to treat Dorian.

When the scales cover a certain amount of his body they must be removed, this is very painful and Dorian spends a lot of time in bed, although when he feels better he usually plays music in the garden.

His personal guard the Red Knight (A lion Alpha, I called him Brend because I don't have his name either) has been in charge of his care since he contracted the disease and spending so much time together sparked the spark of love!!

A secret love, of course, only Venti and some gossips like Kaeya (Omega, Captain of the cavalry and Venti's best friend) know about it.

All this made Dorian unable to govern properly, there is no cure for his disease and they know that if it worsens he will not live much longer. So Decarabian, much to his regret, had to pass on to his second son, Venti.

But since we're in a dumb old monarchy, an omega can't rule by itself! So Deca must make an arranged marriage for his precious omega son (Imagine Decarabian raging here, no one touches his child)

And of the 6 kingdoms that remain, what better than to ally with the beautiful neighboring kingdom? Liyue! A huge kingdom, full of mountains and a booming economy with its huge port. The Liyue royals have money, trade, good relations with the other kingdoms, they are perfect.

Liyue is ruled under the harsh dynasty of Osial (Alpha Blue Dragon) his wife Beisht (Quillin Omega) his eldest son and heir Zhongli (Alpha Dragon-Quilin) his middle sister Ninnguang (Alpha white and gold Dragon) and little sister Ganyu ( Quilin Omega)

Zhongli has a complex because he is the only one who is a mix, he is embarrassed by the soft golden hair on his tail, and his father does not hide his disgust.

So Osial does not hesitate to accept the neighboring kingdom's offer, it is his chance to gain territory and get his son out of sight, leaving his favorite daughter Ningguang in control of the port.

In order not to look bad in front of the other nations, Decarabian throws one of his famous parties, this time with the theme of courting his son. Although he has a contract prepared for Liyue.

At the party Venti is very upset to find out about this whole thing, but he meets Zhongli and they hit it off right away! Despite being a dragon he is not scary like the Kitsune that Ianzuma rules (Ei is here, sent by Makoto, her courtship fails even though she was not interested lol)

Still things are awkward and embarrassing between them! They dance, and Venti is fascinated by the sparkling jewels that decorate Zhongli's horns (He likes things that sparkle, he's a bird) Zhongli gives him one of his chains, making a small bracelet as a courtship gift.

They are cute! Meanwhile Osial only examines Venti with disgust, but approves of his wide hips which will be useful for egg-laying, the contract calls for an heir after all.

After the dance, the next day it is announced that Zhongli was the winner of the courtship and the arranged marriage is official!

Venti wants to run away from all this, and refuse marriage, at least leave it for a few years to really meet Zhongli. But Osial threatens that if they don't get married now, Dorian will have to marry Ganyu.

Zhongli is horrified because his sister is still very young, and Venti does not intend to destroy the life of his brother who is in love with his knight, besides that stress could worsen his illness.

So Venti accepts the marriage.

There is a lot of drama and many more characters here! But maybe one day I'll be encouraged to write fic! For the moment I will continue roleplaying happily with my homie and making silly drawings of this

Thank you for reading!

[jermwalker]

bard

[akabirdieart]

Glimpse at the upcoming enamel pin project: The Wren Faire! These are the first four designs I’ve sketched. If you have ideas for bird +ren faire costumes please suggest them :)

[purveyor-of-blubber]

“Oh, how romantic…”

[blujaydoodles]

highly flirtatious bard meets avid people-watcher with 9 charisma

[theanoninyourinbox]

Y'know I gotta do it to em

You call one the Rogue the I Gotta make her a Rogue!!

Hi! Whats the weirdest little guy you got? I wanna draw a cool lizard

WEIRD LITTLE GUY (Saurian edition)

I will give you 3 options... choose wisely my apprentice!

OPTION 1: The Rogue

Secret Toadhead Agama (Phrynocephalus mystaceus), defensive display, family Agamidae, found in Iran, North Afghanistan, Eastern Caucasus, Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan

photographs by Milan Zygmunt & Antoshin Konstantin

OPTION 2: Chad W. Martin, III, Esq.

White-bellied Worm Lizard aka Red Worm Lizard (Amphisbaena alba), family Amphisbaenidae, found across much of South America

Legless lizard.

photographs by Dick Bartlett

OPTION 3: Bishonen Ga Daisuke Desu, Act 5

Common Barking Gecko (Ptenopus garrulus) barking at your sorry ass from its lair, family Gekkonidae, South Africa

photographs by Bernard DUPONT & Ryanvanhuyssteen 

[bingebard]

In the warm glow of the candlelight, you find yourself immersed in a decadent banquet, a culinary wonderland laid out before you. Succumbing to the allure of each tempting dish, you indulge in a symphony of flavors that dance on your palate. The feast becomes a celebration of excess, each bite a blissful note in a perfect sonata. However, as the evening unfolds, your senses mingle with a subtle discomfort. Your belly, now a testament to unrestrained delight, swells and expands with a delightful heaviness. In this enchanting moment, the aftermath of indulgence takes center stage—a tender ache that lingers, a testament to the pleasure found in surrendering to the feast.

[the-fandom-is-now-my-life]

Hey >:) Just a thought I had while reading the child creator AU.

What if the child was actually on of the archons? like, would you imagine it being Zhongli or Venti? They be like:

Zhongli: I demand to know who the father is! *looking threadedly while holding his spear, ready to pounce at someone* Creator: *sweating and thought* It's you bu. *The other Archons arguing as to which mortal it was that laid their hands on their creator*

Creator: *looks at them, then looking at Venti* *Venti, catching the creators gaze, winked and took his tonged out, fully knowing he was the father but keeping quite. He wasn't that dumb.*

Anyway that's enough of me, bye!

Archon's son

WC : 1k, venti: 591 zhongli:594

(somehow they ended somewhat close! I thought zhongli would be longer by a fair bit)

Cw:

venti- nahida can see the baby kicking inside the belly (I heard some people feel it's like body horror so just in case)

Zhongli -reader passed out because of low iron, pica/eating rocks

I will admit that this is mostly centered around the idea that they do know that it's theirs or it's likely to but at the beginning there is something along the line of that, anyway, wouldn't it be fun if venti's child could change some features, one day he looks like you and the next he is his dad's clone

“Why is everyone so silent?” Venti fills his glass with some wine, the atmosphere thick enough to cut. You were hosting dinner in your serenitea pot, something informal and a thinly veiled excuse to strengthen links between nations, and somehow the papers written by your physician were next to the door long enough for both zhongli and the tsaritsa to read.

“Their situation implies that they shared bed with a mortal” the tsaritsa crosses her arms above her chest, the way her lips curved and the roll of her eyes show her distaste for the situation.

“If their grace wanted to be accompanied by a man shouldn't that be their choice?” Venti says out loud while feigning innocence “who are we even to judge that?”

“Surprisingly enough Barbatos does have a point, to react like this is to some extent patronizing” Nahida nods along.

“tsk!”

“They seem pleased enough with the current situation so I find no reason to meddle” Raiden speaks for the first time since being seated. As much as the tsaritsa would have liked to snap back at her, you appear from the hallway oblivious to their fight so she chooses to bite her tongue and hope you bring it up later.

“Aren't they fidgety…” Nahida mumbles softly as you pat her hair, the soft white hair mixing with her green streaks. Her head is resting on your lap as you drink tea, bright green eyes focused on the prodding against your skin, some kicks and punches from the inside.

“Mhm, I can feel it in my ribs”

“just one month more, your grace!”

“Never thought a child could be so similar to only one of their parents” Raiden watches the baby from his crib, a small wood cot that Candace sent as a gift from Aaru village.

“Well, to a certain extent I expected that” venti WAS originally a formless air spirit mimicking his friend's form, at first you didn't even think he would be able to reproduce, but here we are and hubris is your biggest sin.

“♪~~♪~” spirit form venti sneaked inside the nursery by the slightly cracked space between the window and the window frame, barely smaller than your pinky finger but just enough for him to slip inside.

A good thing of simply being a bard in his nation was the freedom he enjoys, he is known for his songs and how good they are so it isn't strange when you have him around your house or in your serenitea pot, the pretext that you enjoy music under the shadow of your garden and that your little clone gets lulled to sleep quickly by his soft tunes. Even then it would be strange for him to be around so often so sometimes he just settles for mixing between his son's plushies and watching him play around for a while, after all it isn't like he has anything better to do.

“!!” Swiftly he gets caught by his son's hand and thrown up and down like a doll. This wasn't as smart as he thought.

“Hello, baby” Venti babytalks the the 1 year old seated on the floor playing with stacking blocks when he sees him he smiles. As much as Venti loved the image he couldn't help but be slightly scared as when he opened his eyes they were now his exact same colour.

“Oh, sh-” next blink his eyes were your color, the sane he was born with “how about we make this our little secret we never talk about ever again?”

“Their condition isn't as dire as you are making it seem it's just-” Zhongli tries to calm down Raiden, who visited Liyue under the pretext of cultural exchange.

“It isn't dire? They almost passed out during a leisurely stroll”

“At most they might have gotten low blood pressure”

Baizhu lets your arm go to hush them a bit “they aren't sick, just pregnant and not eating enough iron. May I continue the check-up or do you wish to wait outside?”

“as I insisted, Raiden, their grace isn't ill, they are just pregnant, which falls under no criteria of sickness”

“I meant to tell this to everyone next month but I guess Raiden gets to be the second to know!”

“For one to be impertinent enough to dare bed their grace” Raiden snarls under her teacup, a frown on her lips.

“I must guess their couple must be Ill mannered and uncivil” the tsaritsa follows her idea, the rest of the archon were asked to visit Liyue sooner than arranged to receive an important and very unexpected news, even if they didn't wish to show you directly their discontent between them it was fair enough.

“Don't you seem too calm, Morax?”

“Not at all, I'm burning with hatred” he crosses his legs but makes the point of hitting his knee against the table “I'm so angry I can't even control my moves”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“i will be prescribing you with a herbal tea to ease the birth process, when you come out Qiqi should have them neatly portioned in the daily brew” Baizhu turns around to give Qiqi the list of flowers and roots and how much of each to put in little silk satchel. As he turns around to follow the examination he sees you close to the flowerpot on the desk and your cheek lightly swollen. A deep sigh leaves hus disappointed face, simply pointing to the pot “please, spit” and you do so, a rock falling back to the dirt. Even then Baizhu still looks disappointed.

“Didn't you tell me to eat more iron?”

“Not from dirt, my grace…”

“Then is iron ore fair game?”

“No… just simply no”

“He is a chunky baby” furina prods at your son's chubby cheek, before the time of delivery the doctors told you to expect twins but unexpectedly enough he was just a big baby around 4kg or 8.8lbs and he keeps growing as times goes.

“As heavy as a bag of stones!”

Lei headbutts your leg, his small hands scratching his scalp “please don't tell me you got lice, I told you to be careful” you settle your cup down on the table as you excuse yourself with cloud retainer, who visited to give you advice at childrearing.

“But I wasn't close to anyone with lice” quickly, your hands start segmenting his scalp looking for lice or eggs but there was nothing behind his ears or on his nape, but when you go higher towards his forehead you find two protrusions that made Lei push your hand away when touched.

“Ah? That does remind me back when Morax ripped his horn off during a fight, tte skin closed and we were so worried it wouldn't grown back, luckily a few months after a new one punctured the skin, even if he was so cranky like a child that season”

“And here I thought because he wasn't born with them he wouldn't get them”

“To suppress such minimal features shouldn't be too much work, even if this one thinks the child would prefer not to”

[almondmilktargaryen]

Duty & Sacrifice (Part One)

Summary: Aemond is married with two kids to Floris Baratheon, as it was his duty. But it's when he ventures into Flea Bottom in the night that he faces his sacrifices.

Couple: Aemond Targaryen/Fem!Reader

Category: Flangst

Content warnings: Cheating, mention of dead children

Word count: 2k

Also on my Ao3

Part one | Part two | Part three | Part four ✍️

The memory of Aemond’s mother holding a blade inches from Rhaenyra’s eye pops into his head whenever he plans to head into the city.  His mother’s thirst for justice and balance, for the sake of him, is an image he has never shaken.

“Where is duty!” He remembers.  “Where is sacrifice!”

And years later, with the Greens victorious and the Blacks slaughtered, sacrifice reveals its head here.  As Aegon takes rule on the Iron Throne as the one true king (according to future history books, not the people), and Helaena’s ashes rest in the sept with Jaehaerys, Aemond takes on his own sacrifice.

Well aware of his brother’s ineptitude (and reliance on the milk of the poppy), their grandsire assigns Aemond responsibility for helping train the Royal Army with Ser Criston,  as well as command the City Watch.  As much as Otto claims not to care for it, Aemond and Daemon were shockingly similar.  So there was no better person.  Aemond agrees with his grandsire but knows he only won the dragonback fight against his uncle because he was more disciplined.  He flew away on Vhagar unscathed in comparison because of his discipline.

Because Aemond understands duty and sacrifice.

And like his mother, he understands his role in the family and takes it seriously.

He wears his typical black leather attire whilst eyeing the hood in his wardrobe.  He’s even just about to grab it before his chamber doors groan loudly, the force of his two boys clamoring through to see him.  Baelon attacks his legs while little Daeron stumbles behind, forcing Aemond to submit and fall to his bed.  Aemond’s laughter mixed with the squeals of joy.  Before Baelon can sit on his chest again, he quickly sits up.  “Is it almost that time?” He asks them.

“Yes,” Baelon says. Aemond rises further and the boy rests against his father’s arm.  Aemond is sure that if he blinks, he’ll find his oldest suddenly tall enough to rest his head on his shoulder.  “Mother says I still have to go to bed when Daeron does.”

Aemond shrugs with an amused sigh.  He had learned through his oldest how much time children have to argue and dwell on their smallest of issues.  “Your mother’s rules are your mother’s rules.” He simply says.

“But I’m much older than Daeron.” He has used this argument multiple times on his father, yet Aemond remained delighted as his lips curled.  Aemond places a hand on his boy’s head and brushes over his matching Targaryen locks.  He’s letting them grow past his ears now.  Aemond has also learned his eight-year-old bends his will effortlessly, something powerful men with the most fearsome reputations and twice as many battle scars could not even dream of.  Meanwhile, his son achieves it with his mother’s eyes and little effort.

“I will speak to your mother about it tomorrow.” He grabs Baelon by the waist and lifts him to let his feet land on the stony floor.  “But for tonight, you must return to your chambers at the same time as your brother.”

“But Papa,” he drags out the last syllable.

“I will not hear it. Your mother--”

The doors echo again, and Princess Floris Baratheon steps in like she was summoned.  Her belly has already started swelling with their third child.  Despite what handmaidens and wet nurses have prepared her for, Floris has yet to discover any dreadfulness during her pregnancies.  Bards have written songs about her and each birth so far, claiming the Baratheon strength eases the process,  and the camaraderie between her and her sisters ensures strong sibling bonds for House Targaryen.  Aemond cannot disagree with the first, holding her hand throughout each labor.  Baelon took seven hours, and Daeron took four.  Not a scream, but Aemond was sure he’d witness her clenched teeth reduce to dust before the babies took their first breaths.  He brushed the hairs sticking to her brow and kissed her head and cheeks when she could finally sleep.  She deserved those songs, every lyric.

He has reason to doubt potential bonds, though, considering his relationship with Aegon.  His hope remains strong for his girls.

“Say goodnight to Papa, boys,” Floris says.

“But Papa thinks I should stay up late--”

“I said nothing of the sort.” He responds matter-of-factly.  “Listen to your mother or lose your negotiation opportunities.”

Baelon groans while Daeron giggles, following him out into the hall.

“Stay with Ser Criston, boys,” Floris tells them.  Her hands rest naturally on the bump as if her wrists missed it.  “I will be out in a second.”

When they disappear, Aemond keeps his expression light.  She still beams, and it helps.  “Best to head to them before the handmaidens snatch them up.”

“Yes.” She replies. “Though I’ve told them time and again to leave bedtime for me.”

Aemond puts a hand on her forearm and the other on her belly.  “You go on. I have a meeting concerning the City Watch.  I won’t be back until later.”

Floris maintains a radiant expression while nodding, despite the noticeable swallow in her throat.  When the door closes and he hears scampering pairs of feet grow farther in distance, he briefly questions going out, aware of his wife’s subtle yet looming suspicions.  But by the time he finally reaches out for his hood, he has already pushed the thought back.

Aemond follows the hills and dips of the cobblestone roads whilst keeping his head down and royal roots securely hidden.  He turns some corners sharply and holds his breath before advancing toward others.  He knows his path through Flea Bottom well, but the odors of sweat, rotting meat, as well as discarded piss and shit (in buckets and sometimes small piles) are all elements he has yet to get used to.  It would be a more straightforward path if he took the Street of Silk, but they both agreed they would never return there again if they had the choice.

The roads were dimly lit, and though dangerous men lurk more prominently at this late hour,  one stare down from Aemond and a good view of his eyepatch gets the message across that he is not one to be trifled with.  Not to mention his skills with a sword.  He claims not to care for his appearance, but hot-tempered or drunk men hesitate to come close when they see him.  It saves him time.

Aemond looks around for lingering faces in nearby windows before repeating the special rap at the door: three times, then two, then one.  He opens it, unlocked to his dismay, but his arrival was expected.  He enters anyway and moves the heavy metal bolt to secure it after an audible shut.

The small home is dimly lit, with barely room for a stewpot, let alone one bassinet.  Aemond can see a single flame burn near the bedside.  He follows it with the sound of his own name, as it’s spoken so sweetly from around the corner.

Radiance fills Aemond's sight: a mess of copper curls and a nightgown, and two swaddled babes in her arms.  An exhale leaves his lungs and nose as he comprehends the familiar sight.  “Welcome back.” She says softly, not to disturb the girls, or likely from her own lack of sleep.

“You know I hate it when you leave the door unlocked,” Aemond tells her.

“It’s too early in the night to worry about that.  They are all at the taverns and whorehouses.”

One of the girls starts fussing.

“You cannot be too naïve. If I’m not here to protect you like what happened at--”

“Oh, hush and get over here. Hold your children.” She tries to sit up properly.

Aemond presses his lips together and takes a seat on the small cot, bumpy and unpleasant, nothing he’s been unfamiliar with in the past eighteen months.  The comfort settles in him like a kindling fire when he gets to gaze upon his two girls.  United since birth, it is hard for their mother to nestle one while Aemond cradles the other.  But with every visit, they learn and adapt.  Now is no different, as Aemond reaches for the one closest to him: Alisha.  He’s studied the difference between them, staring at them still in the hours of the night, observing from the floor while their mother rested.  Small strands of white peek through the auburn, already beginning to curl.  Alyssa's hair is a blazing hue of ginger.

Aemond gives Alisha time to adjust in his arms.  She fusses but eventually settles.  Her eyes open gently, a dull brown.  Nothing special. Nothing Targaryen.  Alyssa is safe too. And her mother keeps her close with two arms now rather than one.  “Are you staying the night?” She asks Aemond.

“I certainly can.” He scoots closer, meeting her hip.  He brushes some strands behind her ear before cupping her face, bringing her in for a kiss.  It was gentle, and the longing was the same as their first night together where nothing more happened other than this; sitting and kissing.  They did not feel the need for anything else right away, understanding what the other had been through amidst long talks in the dead of night.  When things escalated, she showed him patience and love, despite his fears and questions.

Now he’s more confident with movements, as his hand traveled to the back of her neck to keep her close.  The brown eyes she blessed their daughters with stared back at him.  Her breath smelled like bowls of brown, and he did not mind.  “You know what I think you deserve?”

“Hmm.” She looks up toward the ceiling as she ponders.  Brown seeps from the corners, and Aemond has hesitated to ask.  She puts a hand to his face, just below the scar.  “I’m sure you’re eager to show me.”

“A house.”

“Oh.” She pulls back as her brows quirk.  “But I have a house, Aemond.”

“Not one you deserve, though.  This was just temporary, to get you off the Street of Silk.  You deserve comfort. A home where the girls can run around outside and fall asleep at night in proper beds.  Where danger doesn’t loom just outside that door.  No one would ever hurt them.” He kisses her again, and he feels her hesitate.

“How do you know no one will hurt them?  Will you be there?”

“Not all the time. But more than I would be now.  That I can promise.”

“Aemond--”

“I can assign guards to protect you when I’m not there.  Servants that understand discretion.  The girls will be happy and safe, well-provided for.” Prisoners in the black cells live more comfortably than she does,  with space to move and leftovers from royal dinners served to them (that was Helaena’s biggest request as queen, and Aemond pushed it on Aegon as an attempt to honor his late wife).  When he visits, Aemond sees how little she moves.  She hurts from sharing such a horrible cot with twin babes, and Aemond cannot do anything about it here.  “Please, my love. You’ve done so much for me.  Taught me so much. Let me do this for you.”

“You know what will happen if they find out.”

“Nothing will happen.”

“The last war was about bastards taking the throne.  People have been finding your brother’s bastards on the street.  They butcher any boy or girl with silver hair like livestock, left to rot in dark corners alone.  I know you’ve seen them.”

“And I would do everything in my power to make sure no one touches you.  I have a lot of power. And will.  I’ve protected you from horrid men before.  You cannot doubt I won’t do it again.”

Water lines her eyes. It glistens painfully in the candlelight as her palm falls from his face, his shoulder, and then his chest.  She keeps her voice steady. “You can’t have lost one eye, be so intelligent yet so blind,” she says.  “People see. People talk. Even in the fields where nothing happens.  It only gives them an excuse to be more vigilant.  To see a whore just show up from the capital with guards, servants, and two girls.  One with some silver in her hair and another with a purple eye.  What else would they think?”

Aemond pulls back. “Purple?”

She gives Alyssa her full attention once more, coaxing her to open her eyes.

“No, last time I was here, they were both brown.  Like Alisha’s. Yours.”

“This happens with babies sometimes, Aemond.  This is only month three.” She tries to keep herself together.  “The gods are in their right to punish us.  For what we’ve done here. In here.”

“No,” he simply says. “The gods have tested me before we met.  I’m used to their tests. And I’m used to prevailing, eventually.  I will do it again.”

“You can’t--”

“I will.” A surge runs through him, nothing dissimilar to when he went to war.  The simplistic instinct that comes with the will to survive.  When he was at war, there was one he relied upon from beginning to end, and even years before that.  Aemond is gentle as the surge flows through his veins.  “I can’t stay tonight.” He tells her.

“Where are you going?” She doesn’t try to hide the stress.

He gives her time to take Alisha back.  Alisha protests, but only momentarily.  With a flat palm on each, he brushes over the heads of the twins.  His gaze meets hers and he notices tears streaming halfway down her face.  He brushes them away, planting a kiss on her lips again, holding her by the neck once more.  He doesn’t speak a word until she looks him in the eye.  “I love you.” He’d say it with more of a tender demeanor if time was not of the essence now.  “With all my heart, I love you.  You made the grave mistake of letting a royal war hero fall in love with you, my dear.  The determination to keep you safe comes with that territory.”

Her head drops as tears finally do the same, dripping off the edge of her chin.  Aemond kisses her nose.

“I want to make you a home and keep you safe.  That’s not possible here. But it is possible.  For you. For them. It is possible.  I just need you to trust me.”

“I’m scared.” The whisper shakes from her, like dead leaves against the winter wind.  “Don’t leave me yet.” She holds the babies.  She can’t reach out to touch him, yet her arms try.

“I’m not leaving.” He kisses her lips again as if each one was a grant of safety from the gods.  He gave each one to her willingly, frivolously, like he was a god himself who had the power to control such things.  Because he did. He was a Targaryen.  It was close enough. “I will be back, I promise you.”

She still cries as he stands.  The babies too. And he cannot show how it breaks his heart, not now.  If he gives in and does what he truly wants, it will only be a problem when he wakes up here the next morning.  His eye stung with its own unshed tears, but he turned away regardless.  He took a long, steadying breath before heading toward the exit.  With a grip on the bolt, he commanded, “Lock this door.” He tried keeping his voice firm.  “And do not open it unless you know it’s me or a man named Ser Criston Cole, you hear me?”

She nods, and he can feel a tear slide down his cheek, mirroring her own.  He took in the image of the three before slipping out.  The door closed and hearing the heavy bolt provided some relief.

Then he stood there, longer than what was safe, yes.  The cold of Flea Bottom wrapped around him almost instantly, a biting chill of the desolate streets while the soft glow of candlelight shut out from him on the other side,  as it was not his to bask in for too long.

But even in the nearly black darkness of the narrow streets, he could spot one of them; a tiny figure huddled in the corner of a nearby alley, a broken skull with hair shorter than Baelon’s.  Royal blood left to soak into the cobblestone under his feet.  Bones exposed and rotted in the dark, forever cold, soon forgotten.

Aemond made haste to vanish into the shroud of night, swallowed by the fog.  Criston would be in his quarters at this hour, surely.  It was a straightforward path back if he took the Street of Silk.  And he didn’t have a choice.

[tcustodisart]

Connecticut Tav | Wood Half-Elf | Beast Master Ranger

So, this is my sheet for @bareee's @tav-dex. Went a little overboard and made a whole ass character sheet (man the last time I made one of those was so long ago). I want to write something about my cringe boy so. Buckle up because it's going to be long and poorly written (I suck at writing).

One edit because I'm a dummy, his alignment is neutral good not true neutral idk why I did that.

He was born and raised in his mom's and step-dad's tavern called Crow's Perch (not as fancy as Elf Song but in a different category as Blushing Mermaid)(the tavern thing is just for the sake of a joke that the most popular drink they serve is called 'Connecticut Water'). He has an older brother, who's a bard. Despite the description for Urchin background ("After surviving a poor and bleak childhood") he had a happy childhood, filled with love and support. The two brothers treated the whole Lower City as their playground: breaking into places just for fun, pick pocketing nobles, climbing Wyrm's Rock Fortress etc.

His love for beasts and creatures of any kind comes from the stories told by his step-dad (both him and Tav's mom are retired adventurers). Step dad was the one who told Tav about Darkmaw the Wicked *wink wink*.

At one point he got tired of the city life and decided he wanted to become a ranger. After successfully fulfilling some contracts he became so confident of his skills he tried to build a trap all by his own. The trap exploded right into his face (he himself has no idea how it didn't kill him or damaged his eyes). After that he was sulking in his hunting hut for a month. The experience humbled the boy. Most of his adventuring prior to the nautiloid could just be boiled down to hanging around one village and talking local boars out of destroying potato fields, and occasionally getting rid of poachers.

Before the abduction he was on his way to Baldur's Gate to see his family (which he hasn't seen in months).

Trivia (because it's easier to write stuff this way):

His hair started to go grey at the start of Act 3 from the weight of responsibility and stress.

In Act 1 he was corresponding with his family thanks to Faust. After entering The Underdark he stopped sending letters (In Underdark because it would be hard, in Act 2 because he didn't want the bird to be killed by Shadow Curse).

Despite being close to his family in Act 3, he didn't visit them or send any messages in fear that Gortash and/or Orin would hurt them.

He carries with him a razor and some fancy oils for his beard.

His brother wrote one ballad about him, soon after that Tav forbid him from writing more (it was very much not accurate).

His step-dad taught him how to fight with a sword, while his mom taught him archery and the art of stealth.

Tav's biological father died when he was very young so he has barely any memory of him.

Tav's a walking Merlin app, he can identify any bird by just listening to it.

He loves climbing trees. Either to rest on a branch or to scout the surroundings.

He loves picking up herbs and making potions.

Despite growing up in a tavern he's not much of a drinker.

He's very self-conscious about his height and chest-to-belly area. He tries his best not to show it.

At one point he was persona non grata at Sharess' Caress.

He enjoys fishing.

Sir Daisy Dewdrop Fluffington is a name of his childhood plush.

He knows how to play lanceboard (he often plays against Gale and tries to teach it to Wyll).

He draws in his journal. He drew all of his companions at least once.

He almost cried when Jaheira called him 'cub' and almost called her 'mom' in response.

He's scared of Lae'zel. But tries his best to understand and help her.

He had countless heart-to-hearts with Karlach.

In his journal he described Astarion as 'his equal on the battlefield'.

[probablybadrpgideas]

Selkie bard who due to muscle memory still belly flops around on land like a seal even when in human form

­

[amorgansgal]

So in talking about Halsin being excited to hold his first baby, I thought it would be fun to write a little hc piece about all the gang holding your baby for the first time. This is more them just being a friend of yours, rather than being the partner.

Baldur's Gate 3 - The Gang Meeting Your Baby For the First Time

Karlach - There’s a whole exaggerated tiptoe thing as she walks into the room, though she’s not very quiet as she’s practically vibrating with excitement and carrying gifts, just so many gifts, gifts for you, gifts for your partner, gifts for the baby, gifts for the healers. ‘Oh… my… gods!’ she’ll whisper on seeing the baby. ‘They’re so cute! They’re so small and cute!’ She’ll grab anyone nearby so they’re forced to look at the baby. ‘Look at them! LOOK AT HOW SMALL AND CUTE THEY ARE! I just want to squish their tiny, little face.’ Oh absolutely wants to hold the baby. If you want a break at any time Auntie K will be there!

Gale - Has to have a healer help him through the door because he’s carrying a load of books. He’ll greet you first and see how you’re doing before having a look at the baby. ‘Oh, they’re lovely, congratulations to you both.’ Morena Dekarios has already sent a small mountain of meals to your house, so you won’t have to cook or go hungry and she’s made a little baby grow. Gale has brought what he considers ‘essential reading’ for the baby and gives a small lecture as to his choices. ‘This concerns conjuration magic, very essential to know, even if they don’t become a wizard or cleric or bard…’ Will definitely want to hold the baby, though he’s a bit awkward while doing so.

Astarion - He waltzes in, though is very quiet. He brings a large bouquet of flowers, some very good wine and the fanciest collection of soaps and bath paraphernalia. If someone points out he should’ve brought something for the baby too, he’ll say, ‘Why? It’s not as if they care or can lodge a complaint!’ He’ll inspect the baby with pursed lips, then give a little shrug and say, ‘Well, I'll hand it to you, darling, that’s a surprisingly cute baby. You know how usually babies are ugly, wrinkled potato looking things and you have to lie and pretend they don’t look like that. That one is actually quite endearing, so well done on making a rather pretty baby.’ Does not want to hold the baby.

Halsin - Absolutely beaming when he walks through the door. He’s carved a whole little wooden menagerie for the baby and also brought some healing potions and herbal teas to bring back your strength. Definitely has heart shaped eyes whilst looking at your baby and really wants to hold them, but doesn’t want to overstep your boundaries. He’ll instead gently murmur to them, stroke their little cheek and their belly. ‘Silvanus’ blessings upon you, little one.’ He’ll smile at you. ‘They are perfect, congratulations.’ The baby loves being held by him, they are out like a light as soon as he’s holding them against his chest, slightly rocking them and mumbling a lullaby.

Lae’zel - Her attention is mostly on you, after all you just went through the toughest battle known to your kind and given the baby is healthy, alive and sleeping, really all praise and attention should be on the mother. If your partner was there she’d probably chastise them for not fetching you everything you needed right this second. If Xan is with her then she’ll introduce them to the baby. ‘This is a baby, we are expected to tell the parents that they are cute, even if such a thing is a lie.’ She’d probably bring a little training sword and shield. ‘Once they are able to stand and walk and hold a sword, inform me, and I will begin their training. You and your child are lucky, it is an honour to receive the training the Githyanki do.’ Doesn’t want to hold the baby, but if Xan is interested then she may relent.

Wyll - Perfect guest, he does not stay too long, but gives attention to everyone and brings food, a well chosen toy and a lovely woven shawl for you. He doesn’t want to overload you with gifts and says if there’s anything he can do to help around your house, be it cleaning, mending or gardening, he will be there. With your say so he holds the baby and smiles as they grip tightly onto his little finger. ‘They are a fine little boy/girl.’ He actually speaks to the baby ‘When you are bigger I shall tell you all that we and your mother did. Defending Baldur’s Gate, fighting Ansur the dragon, defeating the Dead Three and the Netherbrain. I am sure you will not believe it, but it is so.’ He’s very comfortable holding the baby.

Shadowheart - She is so nervous and probably would prefer to wait for you to be back home, rather than coming to see you in a hospital. She doesn’t want to overcrowd you. She may even be a little apprehensive in asking how you are and while she asks if the birth was alright, she’s not sure if she wants to know the answer. But she does bring a beautiful baby’s mobile with a crescent shaped moon and stars carved out of crystal, so the light can glimmer on them and cast rainbows about the room. She surprisingly relaxes when she does get to hold the baby. ‘Oh, you’re quite lovely, aren’t you?’

[sanjoongie]

𐌕𐋅𐌄 𐌔𐋅𐌉𐌄𐌋𐌃 𐌌𐌀𐌉𐌃𐌄𐌍 𐌀𐌍𐌃 𐋅𐌄𐌓 𐌁𐌄𐌓𐌔𐌄𐌓𐌊𐌄𐌓

🐺Pairing: Berserker! San x Shield Maiden! Reader (f)

🛡Genre: smut, fluff

🐺Au: Historical Au, Viking Au, parent au

🛡Trope: established relationship (married)

🐺Word Count: 2,755

🛡Warnings: mentions of fighting, killing, blood, battle, {breast feeding}, lactation kink, breeding kink, breast play, knife play, fear kink, oral (f), penetrative sex without a barrier, pull out method, mentions of somnophilia, switch! san, switch! reader, mentions of masturbation

🐺Rated: 18+ MDNI

🛡Summary: when your husband comes back after the long raiding season, he continues his mission to keep you pregnant and away from the battlefield

🐺Author’s Note: this a self indulgent au that i have been dying to write but not finding any time to, so i decided to gift it to myself for my birthday 🥳

🛡Beta’s: @downtoamagicalland & @mejuii

"I'm home!" San bellows as he sweeps aside the sheepskin that covers the door to your home.

"Papa!" Four children's voices ring out.

You watch with amusement as your horde of children practically puppy-pile your husband in an attempt to greet him. 

San lets out his belly laugh, beyond happy. Your Viking husband places his double-handed axe against the wall and sweeps up your children, all four of them, in his arms and squeezes them until they protest. 

"I have missed you," He sighs, kissing them enthusiastically on top of their heads before letting them go.

"Papa, papa!" Your oldest, Sari, pipes up. "Mama is teaching me how to wield a sword and shield!"

San's eyes swipe towards you, grinning. "You're going to be a shield maiden like your mama?"

"I'm going to beat you one day!" Sari swears solemnly.

"I don't doubt it," San nods solemnly back.

A loud wail starts up and you cluck your tongue. “Not even five minutes after your father is home and you cause mischief?”

Your eldest boy, Taewoong, the second oldest child, looks expectedly at San while your second daughter Micha sobs.

“Son.” San takes both of Taewoong’s hands in his own. “Why would you harm your younger sister? She looks up to you to protect her.”

Taewoong shoots a look at you and then looks down at the way his father’s thumb swipes lovingly.

San sighs loudly. “Please take care of Micha. When I'm not here, you're the man of the house.”

Taewoong's lower lip juts out. “Papa!” He wails.

San looks bewildered at the sudden outburst and looks to you for help. 

“He didn't expect you to be gentle with him. I'd have given him a swat by now.”

San kisses the top of Taewoong's head and then begins to tickle Micha's ribs, eyes disappearing at the sound of her laughter, tears forgotten.

“Sari, take your brother and sister to bed now. I've got to greet your mother properly,” San orders.

The three run to their shared bed, quickly shedding their clothes until they were in their bedtime nightgowns. 

“Hello wife,” San says in a low voice. “And who is this piglet in a blanket?”

You twist your lips. “That is the newest baby you left in my stomach, Husband.”

San plucks the slumbering baby from your arms and coos at the round cheeks. “Hello, baby.”

“Will you name him now that he's been born and you're home?” You ask, waiting expectantly for his reaction to the good news.

“A boy?!” He grins. He rocks his new son as if he’s the most precious person in this world. “What’s your name, hmmm?”

“If you’ve any love for me, you’d name this one for a softer life,” You grumble.

“What about Hajoon? Perhaps he’ll take on your storytelling and be a bard or a poet!” San offers.

“Stories?” Sari pipes up from the bed. 

“Stories!” Micha echoes her older sister.

“Please?” Taewoong adds belatedly, knowing he’s already pushed enough this evening.

 San looks at you with wide eyes. You sigh and roll yours. “I always tell them stories before they sleep, you know this, you silly man.”

“My fierce shield maiden wife tells stories to our children?” San pretends to be ignorant.

“You must tell the tale of when you met Papa!” Sari insists.

“You’ve heard that more times than I care to count!’ You protest. “Surely you want a new tale now that Papa is here?”

Micha shakes her head. “No! Want stories about Papa!”

San gently slips the babe back to you. “I’ll tell the story. Mine’s much better.” 

He discards his furs and sits on the bed with his children, in simply his pants, bearing all his tattoos and scars. 

Hajoon shifts after being moved so much and he begins to whimper. “It’s okay, sweet boy,” you whisper. “Mama will feed you.”

San’s voice bounces off your walls as he launches into his version of how you two met.

“Papa was in a large battle, two major armies crashing together, it was glorious. So many men were sent to Valhalla by my axe. The battle lasted all day and all night and when the sun rose, I found myself surrounded by many other warriors still. My berserker blood rage had settled and I began to get tired and weary. Just as I felt my eyes drooping,” San pauses to roar and the children scream in delight. “I heard a battle cry and saw a Valkyrie descend from the heavens. She was heavenly, in both her beauty and her bloodlust. She carried two blades that she swung with accuracy and deadliness. She carved through many warriors until finally she appeared in front of me. I was caught in her spell and there was nothing I could do if she decided to finish me and carry me to Valhalla.”

“Mama,” Sari sends me a dirty look, as if to scold me for attempting to kill her Papa.

San laughs under his breath and then becomes serious again. “She pointed her swords at me and said, ‘you’ll become my husband’. I had no choice!”

Taewoong’s adorable face screws up in confusion. “If Mama is so good, why doesn’t she go on the raids?”

San’s eyes widen as he realizes he’s talked himself into a corner, so to speak. 

“Yes, Papa,” You say Papa as if it’s derogatory. “Tell them why Mama doesn’t fight anymore.”

San begins to pout, his signature way to speak when he knew suddenly the things weren’t going his way. “Your Mama needs to stay here with you! And protect you! What if someone came raiding here? No one is better to keep you safe than Mama.”

Micha’s lips begin to quiver at the realization that she and her siblings are in danger. San has to assure her that there is no need to be afraid and soon all the children are tucked firmly and off to slumberland.

“Papa duties complete,” San says with a proud smile.

“Good. The babe’s fallen asleep as well,” You murmur.

You place Hajoon in the sling that rocks him to sleep and tuck yourself back into your dress. Your eyes meet San’s when you catch him looking at you hungrily. 

“San,” You say his name in warning.

Your husband sweeps you up, carrying you in his capable arms and brings you to your bed, on the opposite side of the house. He keeps himself aloft over you, but his lower half pins you in place. 

“I missed you,” he whispers and then collapses his weight on you. 

His head is tucked in between your shoulder and head and you pat his head reassuringly. “I missed you too, husband.”

“The birth wasn’t too hard?” San wonders, rubbing his cheek against your skin. 

“It was fine, San,” You say, moving your hand down to his back to absentmindedly run your fingers along his spine.

For a moment, you trace his scars from memory. He was acquiring new ones that you hadn't witnessed and it sent a pang to your heart. You missed the days when you used to battle at San’s side and then fuck with the blood of your enemies still wet on your skin. 

“Would you have told our children the true reason I remain at home?” You can’t help but wonder.

San raises his head and you watch an unfamiliar emotion cross his eyes: fear. “I was convinced for the longest time that you would become jealous and think I had found another lover. I dreamt of you slitting my throat with a savage grin while I slept.”

“San, that’s absolutely ridiculous,” You deny. “First of all, if I was going to kill you, I would make sure that you were awake for it, especially if I thought you were cheating on me.”

San puts a finger to your lips to halt whatever you were going to say secondly. “But now it’s because I love our horde of children. But I love it even more when you’re heavy with child and I can just fuck you whenever I want. I love your body when you’re full with a child.”

“San,” you say his name hoarsely. Damn Viking man and his breeding kink. 

His eyes wander down your body to your chest and he cups one of your breasts. “Let me suckle from your breast, love,” he whispers naughtily.

“The babe needs that milk!” 

San smiles mischievously. “He can have the other breast. This one is mine.”

Your viking husband pulls the top of your dress down your arms, effectively both trapping your arms in place and spilling your breasts to him. One leaks with milk, where Hajoon had been feeding, and San moans quietly.

“San, the children!” You protest one more time.

“Shhhh,” San hushes you, “The babes don’t understand. Besides, if you’re quiet enough, they won’t wake.”

You whimper as San takes one breast into his mouth, tongue lapping at the tip, and then begins to suck to pull the milk from it. His blunt fingernail plays with the areola of the other, bringing it to a point as well. After months of being on your own, your back arches as the familiar touch of your husband practically burns into your skin.

“My poor wife,” San chuckles lowly. “You need the touch of your husband to bring you back to life?”

“Please, don’t stop,” You murmur and San doesn’t.

His treatment of your breasts, weighting them in his palm, and squeezing them softly, was almost akin to adoration. He was careful to not be rough, aware of just how sensitive you were now that you were fresh from a birth and breastfeeding. 

With your milk still on his lips, San continues to tease you verbally. “I bet you’re aching and wet for me, aren’t you, love of my life?”

Your thighs clench at his words. “I brought myself with my fingers a few times once you were gone. You know how gooey I am when I’m pregnant.”

San groans, his eyes rolling into the back of his head before he moves down your body, abandoning your breasts at the thought of your wet cunt. On his way down, he pays homage to every piece of skin he passes. Any scar or cellulite or stretch mark gets kisses as well. 

The way San makes love to your body would be the proof that your husband would never cheat on you. Then again, the way San makes love to your body would also be a key motivator to ensure he never did the same with anyone else. 

San peppers your mound and out lips with kisses, murmuring praise against your sensitive skin. “Daddy missed you,” escaping his lips once or twice.

You snicker under your breath which quickly turns into a breathy whine as San places a tender kiss right on your clit. Then his tongue delves into your folds, tracing your inner lips and tasting you. He takes his time, re-learning every crease and dip of your cunt. It’s equal parts coming back home and giving you what you missed.

Your core is aching as San tongues your hole, using it to stretch you a bit, but mostly to wind you up. Just when you think he’s going to climb back up your body and fill you up with his cock, he halts his progress to flick and circle your clit. You growl in frustration and dig your hand into his hair. 

“If you don’t fuck me right this second, I’m going to milk you for all your worth and they will have a husk of a man to send back out when raiding seasons starts again,” You threaten.

A flash of fear permeates San’s eyes. “Yes, wife,” he replies demurely.

You take the lead, flipping the two of you so that you are on top now. San’s hair briefly fans out above his head and his dark eyes take you in. 

“Take your pleasure from me, queen,” San says huskily.

You lift an eyebrow in question as you begin to rub your wet folds against San’s erect cock lying against his stomach. “Don’t you mean valkyrie?”

San’s eyes slid to the side as he witnesses you pull your knife from under the pillow he was on. His eyes widen and he holds himself still. “I’ll call you whatever you want, shield maiden. Take from me what you what, simply leave me alive another day to feel your sweet cunt wrapped around me.”

“This sweet cunt has given you more than enough babies, San,” You say in a low voice. You begin to move your hips only as the flat of your blade is brought against San’s throat. 

San’s Adam’s apple bobs deliciously in anxiousness. “If I keep you pregnant with my babies, you’ll stay off the battlefield. You terrify me, wife of mine. Your bloodlust makes me look like a fawn who does not know danger.”

You lean forward, still tilting your hips in leisure. “Are you saying you fear your wife? The mother of your children?”

“I fear the shield maiden who stole my heart and is just as capable of breaking open my rib cage and stealing it again,” San whispers. 

You felt your inner fire, your warrior’s soul, light up with those words. Your hips began to move with more vigor, a delighted grin opening your lips. “Good, that’s how I prefer you.”

San groans loudly, his eyes rolling into the back of his head with pleasure as you bounce more enthusiastically against his pelvis. He slaps his hand over his mouth, aware that now he might wake the children. His eyes are wide with worry as you continue to ride his pronounced hips. 

With your fervor activity, your short sword makes a line along San’s neck and his pupils blow out. Nothing like enacting the bloodlust during a fuck to get both of your blood going. 

“Dare you come inside me, husband?” You purr quietly. “With my sword against your neck so pretty like?”

San whines behind his hand at your words. You can feel his pelvis muscles flexing with each time your ass meets his hips, so that he can fuck you harder, or at least, give you more. 

Meanwhile, with each stroke of San’s girthy cock inside of you, you can feel your orgasm coming within your grasp. You withdraw your sword from San’s neck just in time as it hits. You arch your back, a silent cry releasing from your lips, your sought after climax finally ripping through you. It’s everything you had dreamed about while your husband had been raiding.

San, fast as lightning, flips you over before the vice grip of your pussy pushes him over the edge inside of you. He comes with his teeth dug into his bottom lip, fisting his cock and his seed spurts over your mound and your lower stomach. He pants as he continues to dirty your body, fist moving slower and slower as his high leaves him.

He grins, shoulders moving with each breath. “Now that was a welcome home fuck.”

You stand up to find the bowl you keep of water and a rag. Often you clean yourself up from the mess of the milk from your breasts so it’s no added labor to wash San’s cum from your body too. 

“You are a debased man, husband of mine,” You murmur under your breath.

“That’s why you married me!” San protests. 

“The breast milk is new,” You throw over your shoulder. 

San scratches the back of his head, still crouching on the bed, his legs under his body. “I love every part of you,” He admits, “Why not that too?”

Once you settle back into bed, San cleans himself up too and then settles behind you pulling your body flush with his. He nuzzles your shoulder and hums contently. “Are you sure I can’t convince you to make another baby with me?”

You sigh, still rolling your eyes at San’s antics. “Why don’t we play a game? If you can fuck me while I sleep without waking me, you can fill me up to your hearts content. And if I wake up then, you better be ready to finish with your mouth.”

You can practically hear the glee in San’s voice when he replies. “And that’s why I married you.”

And then he’s snoring like he doesn’t have a care in the world. You find yourself drifting off to sleep as well, feeling safe and happy in San’s arms.

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

i keep laughing when i read the dnd campaign with the beast pirates-

now i need to see how it would go with shanks and his crew

Imagine DND game night with the Red Hair pirates

Yassop: *the reluctant DM* All alright, so you've all fallen through a sinkhole and landed in the goblin King's throne room. Benn's paladin lands directly on the heir to the goblin throne, dealing *rolls dice* 17 points crush damage, and you killed him.

Benn: oh come on, I didn't even do anything.

Yassop: the goblin king, with his too-tight pants, ruffly white shirt, and long blond hair, launches himself to his feet. And in a booming voice, he yelled out, "These outsiders have murdered my son! Throw them in the dungeon!"

You: but it was Benn's fat ass that did it! Why do I have to go to the dungeon?

Yassop: The goblin king pauses, clearly thinking it over, after a moment he says, "Fine, that one's excused," before yelling, "but the rest go to the dungeon!"

Lime Juice: fuck me.

Shanks: what the fuck, we just broke out of jail less than three in-game hours ago!

Yassop: *definitely not punishing them for murdering an important NPC, and is trying to buy himself time to figure out what to do* Huh, I hadn't noticed...

Lucky Roux: For the love of god!

Yassop: Anyway, the entire party, minus (y/n) Dragon born, is taken to the dungeon. The goblin king turns to your dragon-born and looks you over, "Now, what shall we do with you?"

You: I'd like to roll a perception check, I'd like to know the vibe of the goblin king's court, from the nobles to the servants. *Rolls a D20* Fifteen with my plus eight modifiers, so twenty-three.

Yassop: Both groups, nobles, and serfs, are terrified of their king. You can see that a servant in the far corner has bandages under his shirt. It appears that he's been flogged recently. You notice, the nobles' eyes darting nervously as they mutter to one another.

You: I'd like to offer my services to his majesty, as a bard.

Yassop: The king scoffs, "I have plenty of bards, I have no use for another, you shall tend to the hearths of my castle. Go, start with the kitchens." You are taken to the kitchens and see it's dark, humid, hot, and crowded. The servants are wary of you, you see many of them are injured, and gaunt. The châtelaine approaches you and hands you a large rusty ring of keys and a map. She tells you your responsibilities are to make sure all the fires in the castle are lit.

You: and how much am I paid?

Yassop: she scoffs, "Your pay is food in your belly, a roof over your head, and clothes on your back. Now get started." And she leaves in a huff.

You: I'd like to persuade the servants to work together to overthrow the Goblin King because they deserve fair wages and safe working conditions.

Lime Juice: *chortling,* of course, unionizing them is your first move.

Yassop: *frustrated,* roll a d20.

You: *rolls* nat twenty, let's fucking go!!

Yassop: you inspire a popular servant to take the lead, and they overthrow the goblin King. The servants beat him to death. *Rubbing his temples in irritation*

You: I free the group from the dungeon while the servants deal with the king, using the keys and map the châtelaine gave me.

Shanks: Before we leave, can we look for treasure?

You: .... let's only take a reasonable amount, we wouldn't want to make them our enemies.

Benn: very wise.

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