#look at that precious beautiful unicorn

[kissofgallifrey]

[jinwoosbabyboo]

“Are You Jealous?”

Don’t we all love a beautiful jealous man? I like them a little pathetic🤭 (Not too pathetic though 🤨)

Zayne

*Zayne coming home to MC after a long shift*

MC: How’d the surgery go?

Zayne: Everything went according to plan

MC: Good good

Zayne: What are you doing?

MC: I’m getting my medical files in order before I submit them to the hunters association for renewal

Zayne: You haven’t had this months check up yet

MC: Oh Greyson offered to do it tomorrow since you’re backed up this week

Zayne: I’ll do it

MC: Zayne

Zayne: I’m your primary doctor I’ll do it

MC: With what time? Don’t worry about it Greyson already scheduled—

Zayne: Consider it canceled I’ll take care of you

MC: Are you jealous?

Zayne: No

MC: Babe … cmon

Zayne: I’m your doctor you don’t go to anyone but me

Rafayel

MC: Are you gonna help me with these boxes or just sit there all day?

Rafayel: I’m an artist you know my hands are delicate

MC: We’ve literally fought wanderers together

Rafayel: That’s different

MC: *phones vibrates w/ a text* Oh perfect

Rafayel: What?

MC: Thomas is on his way over to help

Rafayel: Well tell him to turn his dumbass around I’ll help you

MC: oh now you wanna help

Rafayel: What do you need him for when you have me

MC: Weren’t you just saying how delicate your precious hands are

Rafayel: yea but I’m done resting them now

MC: He’s already on his way Rafayel it’s too late

Rafayel: No it’s not I’ll do it tell him to go home

Rafayel throws himself on the floor and wraps himself around MCs leg

MC: RAF GET OFF MY LEG IM GONNA FALL

Rafayel: TELL HIM TO GO HOME

MC: OKAY!

Xavier

MC: I have a surprise for you

Xavier: I can’t wait to see it

MC: Close your eyes and hold out your hands

MC places a bouquet of flowers in his hands

Xavier: Flowers?

MC: Isn’t it pretty I spent hours trying to make it perfect

Xavier: They’re not as perfect as you

MC: Oh stop it … look I even added I think Jeremiah called them ‘Forget Me Nots’ they made me think of you

Xavier: Jeremiah?

MC: Yea he helped me put this together

Xavier: Why didn’t you ask me?

MC: because it’s a gift for you why would I have you help?

Xavier: Right…

***

Later that night….

Jeremiah: Hey Xavier what are you doing here this late?

Xavier: It’s nothing personal

Jeremiah: wha- AHHH WAIT WAIT WAIT

Sylus

*Sylus walks in on MC putting together an array of snacks, blankets and fluffy pillows out for a cozy movie night in the theater room*

MC: Look who crawled out of his study for a few minutes

Sylus: Can I ask what’s going on here? Looks like a unicorn just threw up all over my theater room

MC: Me and my boys are having a movie night

Sylus: Your boys?

MC: You can join us if you’d like

Sylus: How kind of you to invite me to use my own theater

MC: I know aren’t I the sweetest?

Sylus: You’ve been spending a substantial amount of time with the twins lately

MC: Have I?

*Luke and Kieran walk in*

Sylus: Get out.

Luke: Huh?

Kieran: But boss

Sylus: I won’t say it again

*Tosses them out with his Evol and slams the door*

MC: That was so rude

Sylus: You’re spending the night with me turn the movie on

*Sylus arranges himself against one of the giant pillows and drapes a blanket over his lap*

MC: Are you jealous of your own men?

Sylus: No …. I simply want to watch a movie with you

MC: Sure

[orangeheliophile]

Habits, and how he acts in a relationship

Warnings: some cursing.

● He's a menace. You know that unicorn puppet in the Bluey show? Yeah, that's him. But more grumpy and demanding.

●He doesn't like physical touch from other people, but he's constantly clinging to you at every second of the day. Deal with it. He loves you, so he's going to suffocate you with his affection until you learn to love it.

●You both have a secret language, which mainly consists of grunts, mumbles, hums, and other sound verbs. Sometimes, you both just look at each other and can communicate that way. Body language is a part of it, too.

●You like to cuddle in weird positions. For instance, he could be laying on the floor like a starfish while you mirror him while laying on top of him. Basically, you both cuddle like orange cats. In the most weird but funny way possible. But you can cuddle like normal people do, but where's the fun in that?

●He has a habit of kissing your beauty marks/freckles. They're like tiny stars in his eyes because even if he won't admit it, you're his universe. (He'll rather die than tell you that sappy shit in person.)

●Of course, his main love language is physical touch, but he likes all the other ones too. He wants to make sure you're loved and feel loved in every way. He also completely melts when you make him a gift or compliment him.

●Since he secretly reads romance Mangas, he knows how to flirt with you and make you feel all giddy. He's Bakugou Katsuki. Of course, he's the best in everything. He's extremely confident in himself. (He practices it in his head about 50 times before even thinking of saying it to you. He's actually super nervous around you because you give him butterflies. )

●Speaking of butterflies, they're more like his AP shots filled with cuteness aggression. It's Bakugou. He does everything intensely. He just can't help it but feel his heart is about to explode with how much he loves and adores you.

●That doesn't stop him from being an annoying bastard, though. No wonder his mother was so eager not to have to deal with his ass anymore.

●He will bite you, give you sloppy wet kisses, demand head and back scratches, and will purposely lick your face just to annoy you. (He's a dog. The pomeranian hair and chihuahua attitude doesn't help at all.)

●And he DEMANDS that you compliment him and show him affection. He'll die if you don't. (He will literally lay face first onto the floor for hours if you ignore him.)

●You have a habit of fidgeting and getting random bursts of energy. He helps with that. Since you need something to fidgeting with and are a bit clingy, he's happy because he secretly adores physical touch. His heart melts whenever he sees you jump in joy or fidget out of excitement. You're his little ball of sunshine he never wants to share.

●He Daydreams about your future together. Such as becoming the best pro heroes together, getting married, and having kids. He's already picked out, baby names, and he smiles whenever he sees you gush at babies.

●He loves your laugh and smile. And if he has to do something ridiculous or something unusual, he'll do it. He will also purposely act sassy/have more attitude than usual to see that adorable smile of yours. (It happens often when he acts like a clingy gremlin.)

●Since he plays the drums, he will definitely play your favorite songs and learn to play other instruments for you. He plays the electric guitar and bass sometimes, too.

●When you're feeling sad/sick or look absolutely adorable, he will treat you like his precious baby angel girlfriend. (Because you are!) He will cook for you, cuddle you, give you massages, and do anything to make you happy and comfortable. (Acts of service is his second favorite love language.)

●He's extremely protective over you after the war. It doesn't matter if his arm is damaged or if his heart has a possibility of arrhythmia? He's using Sero's tape to duck tape himself to your hip. So you're literally stuck with him forever.

●He will definitely want to train with you, always pushing himself to be the best, but encouraging you to become an even better hero student than you already are.

●He secretly keeps a scrapbook of all your memories together. He doesn't normally take pictures, yet suddenly he's an expert photographer when he's taking pictures of you or things he knows you'll like. He also keeps a journal of everything about you. There's too much detail and sweet things that he has to write down because he can't contain himself! (He nerds out like Izuku when it comes to you. Don't tell him that.)

●If you're a foreigner, be ready for him to study everything about your culture. He will personally learn the language and become an expert in at least 2 months.

●Since he's going to become the best future, Number One Hero, that means having an extremely healthy diet and lifestyle. He's making you join him, of course. Be prepared for everything organic for the rest of your life!

●He's definitely dating to marry. This man knows what he wants. And he only wants you.

●He has a habit of wanting to feel your heartbeat in some way. He'll put his head on your chest or place his fingers on the pulse point on your wrist sometimes. It soothes him in a way, knowing that you're alive and real and not just a wonderful dream he's imagining.

●Head bumps and nose nuzzles. It's another habit he has. You know how cats hug by nuzzling their bodies onto something else? That's him. But in a more dramatic way. He can act like a cat or a dog, depending on his mood. Then again, Katsuki is his own species of animal.

●If you're insecure, prepare to be even more smothered by him and his clingyness. This man will not leave you alone until you realize how amazing you are. He will look at you like you're crazy if you deny it. He's always right. So if he says that you're the best and most incredible person he's ever met, believe it.

●When he gets upset or has a bad day, he won't say much. He'll just cling to you as you play with his hair and express how much you love him. He needs you. And you're more than welcome to be right there for him when he needs it.

●Whenever you're doing something, he always admires you. He will have the softest expression on his face and the most loving smile on his lips. His pupils dilate to the max, and those cherry red eyes will turn into hearts. Even if you're just breathing, he's already head over heels. And this won't stop even if you two are married and have a family.

●One last thing, he simply adores looking into your eyes. They're so... majestic. They have such a depth and color to him. He could stare into them for an eternity if he could. And you feel the same way. Those cherry red eyes of his shine like rubies in the sunlight. They're mesmerizing. He is mesmerizing.

[adams-angels]

Adam sfw/nsfw hcs? I love your work! Thanks!!

💖 Please send me requests! Send me your own headcanons! I will draw! I'm obsessed rn!💖

SFW

I'm gonna start off strong by saying socks and sandals. Thinks it's great.

Will stop listening when he's losing an argument. Stutters and minces up his words if he gets flustered or too aggravated.

Lute is his best friend

Says he has tons on friend but in reality lute is his only friend

This man thinks he's higher up in the food chain than he actually is. Which then leads to weak apologies from him

Doesn't go anywhere without his mask. Really big believer in that he doesn't like showing his face because both his wife's left him

Still absolutely bitter about that btw

Has an unhealthy coping mechanism when it comes to jealously.

For example, your an angel and some newbie starts talking with you and there's nothing really in it but he opens a portal to hell when your not looking and literally kicks the guy through it before closing the portal.

Or if your a sinner and you're telling him about someone who helped you the other day he will HUNT THEM DOWN next extermination day... If he can wait that long.

Likes getting you lil gifts, key chains, magnets, pins. He'll see a little thing and think that's perfect and wont hesitate buying it for you.

He won't give it to you though. He'll leave it somewhere obvious in his apartment for you to notice and go "oh, that's cute." For him to shrug and say "it's okay. You want it?" It took a while before you actually started accepting gifts this way

In public he will get you the biggest things. Giant teddy bear. New TV. A unicorn. But that's just to show everyone that he spoils you. That no one can treat you as well as him.

Loves lazy days

Also loves it when you preen his wings

Was the kinda guy that didn't have any kind of skin care until he met you and now you're both chilling with facemasks on.

Has panic attacks when he thinks you're going to leave him

When he's not wearing his mask he will not smile. It's really difficult to get him to smile or laugh when he's not wearing a mask.

But he's got the most beautiful smile

You managed you get him to laugh because you fell. What? He's still an asshole.

You couldn't be mad at him. He sounded so happy.

Has dumb pet names for everyone he's close to. Some are cute. Some are absolutely vulger. "Sweetness." "Babe." "Cutie" "cockwarmer." "Adam's dumpster." "Precious."

He's insecure AF baby

Loves hearing you say you love him

Will only tell you he loves you in private.

Would take a very special case for him to say it in public

If you get in a serious argument with him he'll run away in anger. He'll then come back after an hour or so begging you not to leave.

Sorry I really love pathetic Adam. fight me.

Smut below the cut! Minors dni

NSFW

Ik everyone says it's great at sex but I don't think he would be 🤷🏻‍♀️ not at the beginning anyway

I think he's a selfish lover and it takes someone he really cares about to make any changes

Would absolutely finish inside you then fall asleep soz babes

His cock is good tho. Likes it's a biggen. Length and width.

It was probably made to fit perfectly so

At least that's what he says

He won't believe it if you dont orgasm the first time you have sex with him. Everyone else has! Why wouldn't you?!

Well, Adam, they lied, sweetie.

Loves getting his cock sucked.

Asks for it constantly

If he gets in an argument with you he'll probably say "I'm sorry, it's just been so long since I got head."

He loves eating you out. Watching you squirm while his tongue is inside you really gets him going.

Likes you have you sat on his face so he can hold you down

He cried the first time he had sex with you after realising he loves you

Will beg to be loved when he's close to finishing. "Tell me you love me!"

Will get embarrassed after the fact

He was adamant he didn't like you. That you were just hot. But one day found himself jerking to the thought of you and that post nut clarity hit like a freight train.

Loves being praised ofc

Breeding kink. I mean come on. He was made to populate the earth. It was literally his job.

Loves rough sex, being in charge.

Will get possessive during sex

If he's having a bad day he'll be a lot more desperate and a hell of a lot more possessive

"mine" is his favourite word.

～⁠♡✧⁠｡ I really hope you enjoyed! I'm not a writer by any means but I appreciate any support I receive so thank you for reading! ｡✧⁠♡～⁠

[dateko]

˚｡⋆  GLITTER AND GIGGLES | GETO SUGURU

contents: domestic fluff brain rot, papa!geto with the twins, tatted!geto, reader and suguru are married, & suguru being the best dad even though it is written quite poorly

“I’m home!” You announce as you enter the house, feet screaming as you kick off your heels.

Surprisingly, no one greets you back. The absence of the familiar rumble of footsteps that usually storm toward you causes you to frown. There isn’t a pair of mischievous twins that wait for you at the top of the stairs, nor is there a handsome husband dressed in an apron telling you that he’s missed you all day. You deflate at this, but your ears pick up the lovable sound of hushed giggles coming from the living room.

You creep up the steps gingerly, careful not to disrupt whatever fun the girls seem to be having.  And that’s when you see it. There, splayed all over your ridiculously expensive rug that is now littered with markers and glitter glue, is your husband. Your two girls occupy his sides, hovering over his bare back with busy hands.

“Girls?” You break their playful trance, and they turn to each other before you with wide eyes. “What are you two doing?”

Mimiko attempts to gather the markers into her arms as a stuttering Nanako waves her hands in your face, doing a very poor job at obscuring your view when her hands are so incredibly teeny. “Mommy! It’s nothing! We were just cleaning up.”

Your brow raises at this since you know well you didn’t raise a liar. Catching a glimpse of Suguru’s sleeping figure with his bare torso flat on the floor almost makes you think the two tired out their own father to death. But as you step closer, the sight almost makes you laugh out loud.

The tattoo of the rainbow dragon that trails down Suguru’s spine finally bears truth to its name. You’re not exactly sure where to look first. You follow the lines of pink and purple scribbled messily outside the inked lines, the loose glitter that sticks itself between the crevices of your husband’s back muscles, and the series of Sanrio stickers that wander down the side of his neck. It’s ridiculous, almost like a unicorn had vomited all over him, yet precious all at once. 

Mimiko tugs at your sleeve. “Are you mad?”

Shaking your head with a smile, you pinch the little brunette’s cheek. “Hand me a marker.” 

The girls giggle behind you as you kneel beside Suguru’s sleeping face. He’s gorgeous, always been, and always will be. Thought it was a shame you were about to ruin it. The marker in your hold draws an elaborate beard on his face, making sure to dance with a few swirls and twirls. You beam at how your canvas scrunches his nose, eyebrows furrowing at the feeling of your marker gliding across his skin.

Suguru scratches his face before opening his eyes, blinking repeatedly at the moment he realizes you’re home. “Morning, beautiful.” You grin, tucking a piece of his dark locks behind his ear.

“Sweetheart,” He sits up immediately, unaware of the glitter that falls from his skin behind him. “I missed you.”

You decide against scolding your husband for falling asleep instead of watching your children when he leans in to seal a kiss on your lips, and you turn away, stifling a giggle. “Come on, no kiss?” Suguru pouts. “What’s so funny?”

“Papa, you look so weird.” Mimiko pips from behind you, trying to hide her laughter.

“You have something on your face, Papa!” Nanako adds, squealing when Suguru grabs her to tickle her stomach. The house is filled with an abundance of happy laughter once more, and you can feel your heart swell with contentment. Your husband extends his arm to you and Mimiko, a soft glint in his golden eyes. The expression on his face is delicate, yet he is still completely unaware of the ridiculous lines that paint his features. “Come over here, you two.” 

Suguru beams as his three favorite girls pile on top of him, bubbles of joy bouncing off the walls every which way. You can’t help but finally kiss him. You could never resist Suguru, especially when he’s always been such a good husband and an exceptional father for the three of you. The wet smack you place on his lips causes the girls to grimace, trying to wiggle their way out of strong arms.

The twins scramble out of the living room and scurry off immediately. You stay in Suguru’s lap, hand tracing his collarbone and down his shoulders as he hugs you tighter. “Don’t think I’m letting you go without a punishment.” He teases, pressing his lips to your temple.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about?" 

“Oh yeah?” His eyebrow raises, unconvinced. “Well, I wouldn't be so sure. You look like Yaga right now.” 

Your hands scramble to your chin as you gasp, noticing the black residue on your fingertips. Your husband watches you as you attempt to scrub off the black beard on your face with your sleeve. Rolling your eyes at his smirk, you give up. Grabbing both sides of his face, you kiss him once more. “Oh, shut up and kiss me.”

“Anything for you, Sweetheart.”

[skyeslittlecorner]

Tails for all! - Kings edition

Other parts: Gehenna | Tartaros | Hades | Avisos | Nilfheim | Abaddon | Paradise Lost

Satan

The most classic tail, simple elegance. Ankle-length, black, with a red arrow at the end, just like his horns.

At the base, it is as thick as the wrist and tapers towards the end.

Identical to the horns to the touch, set won in the lottery.

You'll recognize his emotions more easily by his tail than by his face, he wags it like a cat when he wants to make some noise and lifts it at the base when he's happy.

The end has rounded corners, making it resemble an elongated heart instead of an arrow.

Sensitiveness 8/10. Doesn't like it when someone touches him by surprise.

When he's in a good mood, he gives tail slaps instead of kicks. The nobles are delighted.

It's not sharp at the end, so he'll try to stick it inside you. It's smooth and slippery, an arrow produces milk just like horns, and it fits so good.

Mammon

Big tail for a big man. Long, winding along the ground, golden and scaled. Standard tip without decorations, at least as thick as Mammon's thigh at the base.

His tail and greed gave rise to the legend that dragons collect treasures.

The upper scales look like pure gold, the lower scales are black and resemble obsidian. The entire tail resembles flakes of stones and precious metals.

The scales are bumpy like his horns, but it has no spines or blades.

Surprisingly warm. The scales at the base are very large.

Sensitiveness 5/10. He really enjoys being scratched hard as you leave lighter marks on his scales from the pleasure.

He likes to put his tail in his lap and you on top of him and watch you grind against him while he plays with your ass.

Leviathan

Not much longer than Satan, but covered with scales. They are soft compared to Mammon and shimmer like smoky mirrors. At the base, it is as thick as two cupped hands, shimmering purple and black.

Its ending is unique. On land it has a long, soft fur, but when he approaches water he can wrap a thin layer of skin around it, making it membraneous and resembling and looking like a fin.

Similarly, it has tiny long fins on its sides. They are a bit sharp, so sometimes he hurts himself with them. (Kiss these wounds, he will criticize you but he will love it anyway.)

Due to childhood trauma, he learned to hide his tail, wrapping it under his clothes and only showing the tip. That's why many demons think his tail resembles that of a deer.

Very, very sensitive. 12/10. Proceed with care.

He loves playing with his fins, but of course he won't tell you that.

Just seeing his tail in all its glory is incredibly rare, and being choked with it is the greatest honor. Not even Solomon experienced it.

Beelzebub

rainbow unicorn tail narwhal tail insect abdomen A long tail, similar in thickness to Leviathan's, but does not taper towards the end. Black, with dark green lines on the sides and back.

As befits the Lord of the Flies, his tail resembles a pelecinus polyturator. Composed of segments like a scorpion. Shiny, slippery and very hard. Chitin.

Green stripes are not just decoration. He can pull out the blades from them, and whipping will easily cut off your limb. He can pull out a sting at the tip, each blade producing a paralyzing venom.

His whip is almost a mirror image of his tail, but with golden blades instead of green.

While the rest prefer to wrap their tails around their legs, its natural position is twisted upwards, also like a scorpion. When he feels uncomfortable, he can "blow out" his tail into a swarm of flies that follow him. After all, it is a deadly weapon.

Sensitiveness 2/10. He likes it because it gives him an advantage over you. Until you start scratching his skin at the base. He's all yours on his knees.

If he doesn't pull the stinger out, the tip is rounded and a little bulbous, but you won't notice until he's deep inside you.

Lucifer

Long and thick, almost like a Mammon, phenomenally beautiful, angelic white with golden reflections. Resembles a snake. It splits in 1/3 and has two ends.

If you get close enough to it, you'll see that the base is as red as its horn.

You'd expect it to feel like reptile scales, but it's more like smooth feathers. Soft, but only the top layer. When you press it, you feel that the core is iron-hard.

He has the same scar as on his chest above his tail, only smaller.

Sensitivness 6/10. Unlike others, instead of pleasure, he may suddenly be struck by pain. Take care of him.

That doesn't mean he won't use his tail against you.

He wants to see your tears when you have his penis in your mouth and the tips of his tail in both holes.

[spacebarbarianweird]

Kid falls asleep somewhere and the caretaker finds them, bringing them to their bed

This is probably one of my favorite childhood memories 🥺❤️

Synopsis: Astarion is carrying his daughter to bed for the last time in her life.

Tags: dadstarion, dhampirs, fluff

This is the fluffiest thing I ever written. And since you all like reading about Astarion's daughter's future - I've written the whole part with adult Alethaine POV as she takes care of her own child centuries later.

Alethaine's age (1st part) - 17-years-old

Alethaine's age (2nd part) - 316-years-old

Thanks @themadlu for beta-reading!

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

Astarion is drunk with blood and night. His body is warm but his head is dizzy with happiness. Here, deep in the woods of the Unicorn Run, he can be truly himself.

A predator. A hunter.

A vampire.

He is free. He is fast. He is dangerous. Animal blood satiates him and he feels like the shadows of the past are leaving him.

There are still nightmares. Sorrows. Sometimes he is so angry he smashes things against the wall or tries to tear at his hair. 

But it doesn’t mean anything, after all. It all ended. For good. 

He will never be hungry again. He will never be tortured. Or forced to sleep with strangers. No more pain, no more misery, no more rapes.

He has a home. He has a family. He even has friends who pretend they don’t know he is a vampire. 

He has everything, and no one will take it from him.

Astarion comes back slowly, enjoying every step he makes with his bare feet. His ears twitch in anticipation – he knows he is being waited for at home. Tiriel will welcome him with her genuine smile, asking how his night walk was. Alethaine, their daughter, is probably somewhere else – she is seventeen and Astarion knows she has her own life right now, and he will know details of it only if she decides to tell.

Though, there is one problem.

Somehow Alethaine isn’t interested in relationships. Neither girls nor boys. Once she admitted to him she just didn’t get what all this fuss was about and the only person in the whole town who tried to ask her for a date ended up with a broken hand. Astarion refused to punish Alethaine for violence (“It’s your son’s problem if he can’t take ‘no’ for an answer, not mine.”), but it surprises him how little someone could care about love, relationships, and sex. 

Alethaine read the Necromancy of Thay at fifteen and she understands it much better than he ever will, but boys and girls? Absolutely unknown and weird.

Astarion decides to take a long path to the underground part of the town to enjoy the surface at least a little bit more. It takes him to the town’s cemetery – its old part almost forgotten by humans and halflings whose lifespan is so short that elves and dwarves don’t have enough time to get used to them.

And then he sees a familiar black leather bag with books.

He turns left and sees Alethaine curled on someone’s century-old grave.

It seems like she was reading and then decided to take a nap putting the book aside. Astarion picks the book up. Dragons, wyrms and drakes. The study. Probably one of the books she got from a traveling merchant a month ago. Astarion remembers how she came home with a huge pile of volumes proudly saying that she’s spent all the money she earned by working in the tavern and fortune-telling. 

1000 Poisons and Antidotes, A Field Guide To Fey, Thirty Ways To Skin a Dragon, Myth and Legends of Calimshan and also a few books in Infernal she got to “practice”.There was something else but Astarion doesn’t remember. 

Astarion reaches out for her shoulder to wake her up but then stops. There is something so precious and unreal he can’t take his eyes off Alethaine. 

She is beautiful. People say she looks like him, but he can’t be sure. Pale skin, elven ears, hair as silver as the moonlight. She is delicate like a fey and looks as fragile as a porcelain doll.

Astarion concentrates and hears her heartbeat. 

So alive. So real. So precious.

In moments like this, he can’t believe she is his child. When she was a baby, he mostly adored how cute she was. But now— 

It’s probably the first time Astarion realizes his daughter is almost an adult.

She is a beautiful and smart woman, her very own person, so different from both him and Tiriel. Damn, Tiriel is often asked what crypt she found her daughter in!

Astarion smiles looking at his baby – she will always be a baby to him. No matter how many centuries will pass, he will never forget a tiny dhampir who constantly cried to get his attention. And whom he carried to bed if she fell asleep playing with her dolls.

Astarion feels an itchy sensation on his skin. The sunrise. 

When exactly was the last time he carried his daughter in his hands?

Astarion takes the book on dragons, puts it in the bag, and then lifts Alethaine up.

She grunts something but doesn’t wake up.

“Come on, let’s return home. Days are merciless and cruel for the creatures of the night,” he chuckles.

Alethaine feels almost weightless in his arms as he returns to the underground part of Daggrerlake. Soon Alethaine will leave them, he knows that. She is already preparing to become an adventurer, though he suspects she will spend another year under their roof. Seventeen years is such a short amount of time. 

But it’s her whole life.

Tiriel welcomes them in the yard and chuckles, seeing Alethaine fast asleep in his arms.

“Oh, I thought she was way too adult for that,” she smiles, opening the door. “Where was she?”

“The old graveyard.”

“Well, her favorite place in the town,” she whispers. “Right after the tavern where she frauds travelers with her fortune telling.”

Alethaine lacks any fortune-telling abilities except for good intuition. But strangers who stay at the inn owned by a family of dwarves don’t know that. They just see a very pale and mysterious-looking elf who is advertised to them as a witch. 

Once, a fighter who Alethaine told he would get a wife soon, returned to her angry and pissed because his attempt to matchmake a princess ended up with him being whipped in a town square. It’s probably the only time Astarion had to show up in the tavern during Alethaine’s shift. When he got there, Alethaine was crying and the fighter was threatening her with every awful thing a man can do to a young girl.

The fighter was deliciously scared when a vampire threw him against the wall and broke his dominant hand. Alethaine then told Astarion, no, she wasn’t crying, no she wasn’t afraid of that dumbass, she just got offended by all those mean words he told her.

But Astarion knew she was scared. She was scared like any girl her age after being threatened by a much larger and older man. The fighter begged Astarion to forgive him and he threw the moron at Alethaine’s legs, forcing him to beg her and, if she accepted his apologies, he would let him go. 

Alethaine didn’t forgive him (maybe she was just paralyzed with shock and fear) and that night Astarion dined on his blood. Besides, if the man could approach someone that young and casually tell her he was going to assault her, it probably meant he’d already done it to someone else. Or would in the next village.

Astarion puts Alethaine to her bed. He bitterly smiles, noting that there is no plushie toy or doll anymore that she liked so much barely a few years ago – only books, candles, and animal skulls she collects in the woods.

He also bitterly remembers that, in the very recent past, he could easily help her change clothes into the night dress. But this thing is forever out of reach for him. So, he just puts her boots off and places them in front of the bed.

“Sleep well, princess,” he murmurs, leaving the room.

“Heavy-sleeper!” Tiriel jokes standing in the inner yard. She cuts the wood for the fireplace and Astarion adores the sight of her wielding the ax.

“She is,” Astarion looks away.

She is seventeen. She will soon leave their home. She will live for centuries – and her childhood will be such a minor part of her life that it makes Astarion upset. He cherished every single day since she was born: her first step, her first word, the first time she saw the snow, the first time she went somewhere alone (she was five and Tiriel sent her to pick up herbs from the healer). The first book she read by herself. The first letter she wrote.

And now, there are also the last things.

The last time she slept in her parents’ bed – he remembers how she took her pillow and left them to return to her room. The last time he bathed her – and she looked so innocent and cute in the wooden tub full of soapy water. The last time he read her a book – it was a novel about unicorns and fey. He expected she would bring another one to read the next day, but, instead, he found Alethaine reading by herself. 

The last time he played dolls with her. The last time Tiriel brushed her long hair. The last time they played hide-and-seek in the woods. The last snowball fight.

All these things didn’t seem like the last when they did it, but they became one.

And Astarion knows that the fact he carried Alethaine to bed this day was a miracle. He will never do this ever again.

“Astarion, my love, what happened?” Tiriel’s fingers play with his hair. “Don’t tell me everything's right, I see you are upset!”

“Alethaine grew up too fast,” he admitted. “It’s not fair that elves live so long and yet their childhood is just slightly longer than humans.”

“I know, love. But she is an adult – and we need to see her like one, unless she wants to be occasionally treated like a child.”

Astarion places his head on Tiriel’s shoulder.

“I just… Damn… We both were children. Your childhood was hell and your mother was a bitch, but I don’t remember mine. You know, I just thought—” Astarion would sigh if he breathed. “There was a moment when I was carried to bed for the last time, too. And I can’t even remember who did it.”

Tiriel kisses his forehead — it’s a motherly gesture, not a lover’s one.

And then Astarion suddenly finds himself in Tiriel’s arms ‘bridal style’.

“Tiriel, put me back!”

“Why would I?” she laughs, holding him as if he were a young boy.

“I sometimes forget how strong you are,” he mutters, hoping no one sees them.

“It’s just your hollow elven bones. Though, I can lift human males up too!”

“I hope you don’t do this often because, otherwise, I will start getting possessive!”

“Or throw them in the mud after, don’t worry,” Tiriel kisses him, still holding Astarion as if he were weightless. 

“Ok, then, now you need to carry me to bed,” he pouts.

“I will gladly do that. And then, you will tell me how you want me to love you.”

“I will think on the way to the bedroom, my love.”

They both burst out in laughter.

**

A drake the size of a cat sneezes and burns the dandelions. Then, it looks up at Alethaine with guilt as if apologizing. 

“And can I ask where your owner is?” Alethaine murmurs. 

The drake sneezes again. Aurix – gold in Draconic – demonstrates its tummy to the dhampir and stretches like a kitten.

Alethaine takes a few more steps and finds herself in a beautiful green field full of grass and flowers. The wind makes waves on its surface and Alethaine feels that the night is slowly approaching.

A red-haired elf lies in the grass. Her red hair is messy – she’s been hunting the whole day. Her bow lies at her side. The freckled face is a bit suntanned and her ears twitch a bit as their owner wanders in her reverie.

“Tiri,” Alethaine leans to her sixteen-year-old daughter. “Let’s go home, dad worries you got lost.”

Tiri mutters something incomprehensible. She is young and her reverie is deep. As someone with very few memories to re-live, Tiriel Goldernoot, the only daughter of King Elren and his “witch-queen” Alethaine, probably sees only glimpses of her past lives mixed with human-like dreams.

Besides, her grandmother and namesake was half-human. So, Tiri’s dreams are much more vivid.

“Tiri, get up. If you don't, I will carry you myself.”

“It’s a manipulation, mum.”

“It is, so I see you are awake. Get up.” 

Tiri sits up, numb and dizzy after a reverie and she looks like someone beaten with a bag of sand. Alethaine helps her daughter to stand up and the drake immediately sits on her shoulder.

“Tired?” Alethaine asks.

“Ughm. I’ve been to Corellon’s grove.”

The biggest temple on the isle was ten miles away from Leuthilspar – the capital and Alethaine’s new home – no wonder the girl was so tired.

“I didn’t get inside, I just wanted to see the place from the hills.”

“Come on,” Alethaine takes her daughter’s hand and takes her home. 

“Mum,” she tells her, and Alethaine feels her daughter’s embarrassment. “May I ask— Though no, don’t bother, it’s stupid.”

“You want me to carry you?”

Tiri blushes and nods. They are the same height, mother and daughter, but Tiri is far from being a dhampir, and Alethaine can carry much heavier things than a young High Elf ranger. 

“But as long as no one sees us!” Tiri quickly adds.

“Don’t worry, no one will,” Alethaine promises and lifts her daughter up.

They walk like that for almost an hour. Tiri is exhausted and barely talks and Alethaine enjoys her loud heartbeat and deep breathing. When Tiri was born, Aletaine was suspiciously looking at the newborn baby. Was she a dhampir like her? Did the quote of vampiric blood affect her? Did Alethaine’s obsession with dark arts and demonic studies somehow hurt the child?

And then she remembers the realization. Tiri is as normal as possible. Just an elf. She wouldn’t grow fangs, she wouldn’t want blood, she wouldn’t accidentally reanimate a dead kitten and the druidic circles would never harm her. That moment Alethaine grabbed the newborn girl from her cradle, she came straight to Elren who was meditating in one of the many gardens of the elven castle and pushed Tiri into his arms. “Look at her!” Alethaine laughed as her half-asleep Thiramin was trying to realize what was going on. “She isn’t a creature of the night! The dark magic didn’t hurt her! She is normal! Like you!”

Alethaine catches the scent of other elves and puts Tiri on the ground. Now they walk through the streets like mother and daughter. Even though elves have different ideas of nobility and social structure than humans, Alethaine is still married to the king and she senses respect and fear from other elves (besides, they all know if it wasn't for her none of them would have made it alive after the demons had taken a hold on Faerun).

They needed the dark witch to deal with demons because druids don’t know what real darkness is.

“Hungry?” Alethaine asks.

“Like a vampire.”

“Interesting choice of words, Little Fire,'' Elren says sitting on the floor with yet another book about the ancient history of elves. Elren couldn’t care less about his status (“I’ve never asked to be crowned.”) and usually behaves as if he were still a ranger in the High Forest.

Tiri proceeds to tell her father how she marched through the hills, how Aurix almost ate a fey, and how she didn’t lose a single arrow while hunting birds. And then, she also saw portals to the Feywild but didn’t dare to approach them.

Alethaine walks up to the ceiling and stretches her arms – night is calling her. But she also feels the storm coming and decides she won’t leave the warm walls of the elven castle tonight.

When Tiri goes away to have dinner, Elren stands right below Alethaine. He is way taller than elves usually are and sometimes Alethaine feels very small in his presence. 

His hair is almost as long as Alethaine’s, but it has a golden shade. His eyes are light-blue and he wears intricate ear-cuffs as his only jewelry.

Elren reaches to rub her ear and Alethaine smiles like a content cat.

They met eighteen years ago, almost yesterday considering they are both older than three centuries. Alethaine hates all these sentimental and “star-crossing” things but, to be honest, she fell for the ranger elf the moment he showed up in her witch hut asking her to help him deal with the demons in the High Wood. Probably, the funniest thing for Alethaine is that Elren is so lawful, good, brave, kind, and generous, and is so much to her father’s liking he threatens to turn inside out anyone who wants to harm Elren.

Alethaine smiles, remembering their first encounter – Elren was captured by Drows and held in their torture chambers for a few weeks. Astarion got him out from there and by the time Aletaine found their small camp in the Underdark her father and husband-to-be were sharing stories of their adventures and laughing at the dumb Drows who didn’t expect a vampire to ambush them. 

Maybe Astarion saw Elren as a part of the world he once belonged to. Maybe, he just cared about him because Alethaine did. Maybe Astarion, despite his cynicism, still adores and respects people like Elren because they can do things he can’t. 

Besides, Alethaine knows her father fell for her mother. And Elren has a lot in common with his long-deceased mother-in-law. The same heroism. The same faith in the best. The same belief that says you should always negotiate first, but there is often a greater evil you should fight. 

“Elren, salen thiramin” Alethaine whispers.

“What?”

“Watch out.”

Alethaine relaxes her legs and falls from the ceiling right into her husband’s arms. 

“You know, one day I won’t be able to catch you, my queen!”

“Nonsense, my king, I trust you with my half-dead heart.”

They burst into laughter and their voices echo through the sun-lit rooms.

--

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[deanoheartspie]

Sunshine 5

Pairing: Cowboy Sheriff Dean x City Gal Reader

Summary: After your family cut you off, your great-aunt Laura invited you over to her ranch you often visited when you were just a child... You drive through the beautiful town until you accidentally graze a horse that just so happens to be the sheriffs...

Warnings: None

A/N: I've gotten some feedback on my writing! So this is my first attempt at trying to make it better and make it make sense for all! I really do appreciate suggestions with writing/about the book, also love hearing what you have to say about the characters.

(MIGHT REWRITE!! Depending on how I feel about it)

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Y/N POV

The beautiful grassy fields, full of bright colorful flowers, and the clouds in the most beautiful blue sky ever seen. It was like it was picture-perfect almost too good to be true. Maybe it was, maybe it wasn't you'd never know for sure.

Most of all though... Dean. He was a good man, you could tell by just the way he carried himself or the way he cared about others.

You've never laughed as hard or had genuine conversations as you had this afternoon with no other than the gruff cowboy. Family members never really cared or even tried to seem interested in what you had to say but when they did they were only interested in how it'd affect their precious images.

After he left though, grumbling about having to chase some dog again earning a laugh from you and a simple 'good luck' he ran off after walking me back. True gentleman I must say.

“Hey, Laura do you need help with anything?” You tiredly ask desperately wanting to drown yourself in a nice hot shower.

The older woman looks up from her knitting and smiles as she shakes her head “No thank you sweetheart, how did today go? Did he go easy on ya?” She asked as she went back to what she was doing glancing up at you a few times.

Easy? Maybe he did? He didn't seem as bossy as he usually was had they talked to him?

“You could say that... He did teach me a lot. I appreciate you guys letting me stay here” You thank them probably for the one-hundredth time this week.

“That's good. He's very good at what he does, and quit thankin' us we are family and family helps one another. Now shoo! Go relax, you are probably exhausted its getting way too hot out there”

You smile and nod, giving her a quick hug before running up to the room.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Drying off your hair, tossing a tank top, and your favorite soft pajama pants that most definitely would get ruined here if something were to happen.

The creaking wood floors, announce you to everyone downstairs causing Dean and a little girl to look at you... Smiling at them you wave.

“Who's this little one?” You ask but can see the resemblance between the two, was this who Lina Linda Lisa was? Whatever her name was talking about that day on the sidewalk?

“My daughter” His usual gruff and annoyed voice was non-existent. He sounded happier.

The big ole green-eyed little girl had the biggest smile on her face as she leaned back and forth on her plastic princess heels. She was practically a carbon copy of Dean, but as a young girl and boy was she adorable.

“Hello! I'm Rory” She stuck her tiny hand out, You gently shook her hand the same smile stuck on your face.

“Nice to meet you, Rory! I'm Y/n”

Rory quietly thought for a moment, it felt like a mini interview, and god that made you anxious.

“Do you like ponies?” she asked squinting her eyes, acting as if she was asking the most important question ever.

Dean rolled his eyes and shook his head while he had a small smile of amusement wondering how this would go.

“Hm, are they magical ponies or normal ones?”

She tapped her chin, before reaching up to her father who knew the look she gave him probably way too well because right away he handed her a unicorn stuffed animal. “Obviously the ones that can fly!” Aurora said in a duh tone, pointing up at you, you look around curious as to what/why she was exactly pointing for.

“Aurora what did I say about pointing? It's rude.” Dean's voice echoed from the hallway, he was on his way into the kitchen.

“I like her, you date her?” She said, causing Dean to spit out his coffee and start coughing his lungs out. Your eyes widen in surprise, who would've thought a simple question about magical freakin' horses would lead to this?

“You can't keep doin' that, sweet pea. She's my friend, and that's all.” He explained, cleaning up his mess while the little girl nodded before shrugging.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

The rest of the night went well, You and Rory played for a bit while Dean cooked. Giving him credit where it's due, he's a pretty damn good cook if you must say yourself. Though half the things he does make will mostly take 30 years off your life. That donut burger was worth it though...

Bedtime came around, and Aurora fell asleep in your arms safe and sound. Following Dean up to his room after he offered plenty of times to take Rory off of your shoulders after you refused not wanting to wake the young lady.

What you hadn't noticed before when you had woken the man up this morning was the little princess bed on the other end of the bedroom full of toys and stuffed animals.

“Sorry,” He whispered pushing everything off to the side neatly, grabbing a big t-shirt and gently putting it on Rory, before taking her from your arms and tucking her in.

Oddly enough this felt normal. Though it probably shouldn't have. Friends, friends are what we are and that's it.

“Good night Dean.” You say halfway out the bedroom door when he says something that caught you off guard.

“Will you have a drink with me?” He asked standing up straight and walking towards you with a tiny smile.

A drink with Dean? That actually sounds kinda nice.

“Sure. Though I'm surprised you still haven't learned your lesson from last night's drunken mess” You tease, flashing off your pearly whites as he rolls his eyes guiding you downstairs out to the front porch.

He hands me a nice cold beer before plopping himself down onto the front porch stairs, looking up at the starry night sky. Even at night, this place was beautiful.

“So, you never told me why you're here in the first place Darlin',” He said breaking the silence, putting his full attention onto you.

“Runaway bride.” You say shortly, with a tiny shrug before taking a sip of the liquid. Dean's were wide before he broke into a fit of laughter, shaking his head

“No really why are you here?” He asked again calming himself down, the smile still on his face and his face all red from the laughing.

“Runaway bride.” You say slower this time, in all seriousness. The smile was quick to leave his face and his eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his face.

“Your fuckin' with me right? That stuff only happens on telenovelas” Dean was leaning his head back against the railing, still in shock.

“Nope.”

“Y/n why do you sound so calm about this? What'd he do to have you run off to the middle of nowhere and pick up horse shit for the rest of your life” Dean asked, running his fingers through his hair before finishing off his beer.

“It was set up, arranged marriage. Didn't want to go through with it so I left plain and simple.” You get up stretching your arms grabbing the small blanket from the swinging couch, wrapping it around yourself.

“You shock me every day. I won't have some crazy man comin' here demanding you right? I ain't gonna get in a fight for you sweetheart pretty and all but I have a kid and I'm already on thin ice.” He seriously says while never once looking away from you.

“I don't expect you to get in a fight for me and no, there should be no man coming here to fight you” You roll your eyes, men were stupid sad thing was you did want someone to love, and protect you. But then again that only happened in fairytales, this was fair from one.

“Glad we are on the same page. But as the sheriff, I'd have to help ya out so just gimmie a call”

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

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[e-dubbc11]

You’re Mine…I’m Yours

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader

Warnings: Some swear words, possessive behavior by both reader and Billy in a semi serious way and a playful manner, little violent, fluffy bunnies and unicorns, little bit of smut (18+ please or I’m telling on you)

Word Count: 3.9k-ish

Summary: You have a weekly outing with your co-workers. Billy doesn’t really like it. He doesn’t like other men looking at you especially when he’s not there to put a stop to it but tonight he decides to do a little bit of a checkup on you.

A/N: This one has been done for awhile, I’ve just been so busy I haven’t had a chance to put it out yet, I haven’t had a chance to do much lately so I’m sorry for being behind on my reading also but I digress. I hope you enjoy it! Oh and this will probably be my last fic until my 400 follower celebration is finished, plenty of time left to come say hi so please do! ♥️

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

“Do you have to do these so often, baby?” He asked.

Your expression softened and you walked from the kitchen to the living room and sat down next to him on the couch. The suit jacket he wore to work was cascading off the back of the couch, he had rolled his dress shirt sleeves up to his elbows and he was holding the crystal glass with the dark amber liquid inside.

Billy tilted the glass back and forth, watching it glide from side to side when a stray piece of his ink colored hair dipped into his eyes.

“Do what, handsome?” You asked softly as you gently scratched his scalp with your fingernails. His onyx colored eyes fluttered closed as he lost himself under your loving touch. You moved the stray hair away from his eyes, those beautiful dark brown eyes that now gazed at you with a touch of sadness to them.

“Ya know, the work outing you guys do every week.” He said.

“It’s just a couple drinks after work with some co-workers, baby. And I still usually get home before you do anyway, Billy.” You stated. “Tell me the real reason you don’t really like me going out after work.”

He shifted his weight on the couch and set his drink down on the coffee table while you climbed into his lap and snaked your arms around his neck.

“I know you have trouble telling me stuff that bothers you, Billy but it’s just us here. You can tell me.” You said while gliding his striped tie in between your fingers.

The muscles in his shoulders stiffened as he brushed his beard with his long fingers.

“I don’t like…” He paused to think hard about what he wanted to say. “I just don’t like that I’m not there with you, ya know, to protect you.”

“Baby, what do you think is gonna happen to me? I’m with co-workers and friends.” You said with a smile, trying to make him feel at ease.

“Sweet girl, you are VERY beautiful. You think I don’t notice the way men look at you when we’re out? So I can only imagine how they look at you and act when I’m not around.” He said. The tone of his voice wasn’t angry but it was stern.

Billy’s worst fear was someone hurting you or taking you away from him. He often had nightmares about it so he was somewhat overprotective of you, jealous, and possessive, at times.

Not only did the nightmares scare him but they also scared you too because you didn’t always know what to do or how to help but you did your best. Billy said just you sleeping next to him helped him immensely.

Your presence helped to the point that he had them less often or they were less severe which he was so grateful for. So the thought of losing the one person that meant everything to him and that loved him even with all his faults to someone else, terrified him. He would do whatever he had to, to hold on to the most precious thing he’s ever had.

And Billy’s methods weren’t exactly conventional when it came to deterring the unwanted attention of men toward you, they were more like…unreasonable.

Most of the time he would notice before you did…a young frat boy staring at you from across the bar, a suit from Wall Street at the next table checking you out while out to dinner with clients, and even a couple of his own employees were fired because their gaze lingered just a little too long for Billy’s taste.

It was always just a quick glance at first, then a second time to confirm that they really were looking at you. With his long slender fingers wrapped around a beer bottle, a glass of bourbon, or a fork at dinner, his knuckles would start to show white the tighter he held on to them.

His dark chocolate colored eyes narrowed, and with a scorching glare he would size them up, stare them down until they either averted their eyes or doubled down, which Billy loved.

Like an evil cat, he prowled. Billy stalked his prey, he acted like a wild animal hunting for its food. He would wait until they went to the restroom or outside to smoke a cigarette and he’d growl in their ear “You look at my girl like that again and you’re gonna lose your two front teeth, do…you…understand?”

His lips curled back to reveal gnashed teeth and you knew they felt his hot breath against their ear, making the hair on the back of their neck stand at attention.

Billy never struck first. Sometimes they would make that mistake, especially if you were out at a bar together. He knew the rules, don’t hit first but you can defend yourself or in most cases, defend you.

And they’d always say the same thing to him, almost like they all gathered together at some point and agreed on the one phrase that would send Billy right over the edge. “Oh yeah? And what are you gonna do about it, pretty boy?�� And try to force him backwards by pushing against his chest.

Big mistake.

Yes, Billy was incredibly handsome but he hated being called “pretty.” And only you and his best friend Frank knew why. It enraged him. That term made his eyes glow with savage fire and caused his voice to harden. “You have about 30 seconds before I mop the fuckin’ floor with you.”

He warned them but they’d never heed that warning and they had no idea what he was capable of. As the saying goes, they “fucked around and found out.”

“Where are you going tomorrow, sweet girl?” He asked.

You pondered for a minute, trying to remember the place you all agreed on and then it came to you. “Oh! Ocean’s 8 Billiards. It’s on Flatbush Ave. in Brooklyn.” You replied.

Billy had a surprised tone to his voice. “You’re goin’ to shoot pool? As in, you’ll be bent over a table where every man in there can check out your ass?”

“Billy!” You snapped.

The heat radiating off his chest could be felt through his shirt as his cheeks flamed with anger. His eyes darkened, his pupils were wide and unfocused as you tried to bring him back by brushing his beard with your thumbs and reassuring him that he had your heart and no one else.

“Billy, have I EVER given you any reason not to trust me?!” You asked.

His agile fingers wrapped around your neck and pulled you close to him. There was a touch of acid in his tone and when he spoke you could feel his warm breath against your eyelashes. “I don’t trust any man that’s not me…around you.”

“You can’t control who I talk to, Billy Russo!” Easing your body away from him, you tugged slightly on his hair, tilting his head back so he was looking up at you.

He gazed up at you with a smug smile on his face. “No, but I WILL control who talks to YOU.” He growled.

The guttural moan that escaped your lips was involuntary and it shouldn’t but it made you wet when he talked to you like that. Grinding down into his crotch, you could feel his cock hardening underneath as you started to loosen his tie and unbutton his shirt. It turned him on when you talked back, he loved the push back.

“Oh yeah? You think I like it when I see women throwing themselves at you? Waiting until I go to the ladies room so they can try and make a move.” You hissed in his ear, biting down gently on his earlobe, and feeling his length strain against his suit pants.

Biting down on his lower lip, his eyes traveled the length of your body and back up to meet your gaze once again while his hands extended underneath your t-shirt to brush the smooth skin in the middle of your back, along your spine.

Goosebumps erupted across your skin which caused your nipples to harden and Billy swiftly pulled your t-shirt over your head and threw it across the room.

“And I’ve never given them the time of day, have I.” He said, burying his face between your breasts, his tongue tracing the skin across your collarbone before biting down hard on the spot on your neck that made your vision go white.

“You better fuckin’ not, Mr. Russo because I…don’t…share!” You said against his mouth before his lips collided with yours. Billy’s kisses were all tongue and teeth as his hand unhooked your bra to have your bare breasts pressed firmly against his body. Calling him “Mr. Russo” made him absolutely feral and reassuring him that he was all yours caused him to snap.

You made quick work of his shirt and tie before he carried you off to bed. You lost that battle, the war will have to continue tomorrow.

**********

After work the following day, you met your co-workers at the pool hall for your usual once a week bitch fest and enjoyed a couple of beers in the process.

“…Yeah I don’t think they shut up the entire time they’re in the office and if you gonna have meetings on speakerphone, how about you go into a conference room?” You said to one of your cubemates, talking about the people in the cube next to you.

Leaning over the table to line up your shot, you could feel eyes staring at you coming from all directions from a group of guys a few tables over. After sinking the ball in the side pocket, your friend walked over while you were lining up your second shot.

“Those guys over there are staring at you, one guy in particular.” She said.

Your second shot was a miss.

“Ya know how you can FEEL someone staring at you? Yeah I can definitely feel it.” You replied.

While chalking up your cue, you took a sip of your beer and looked around nonchalantly, trying to not give that group of guys any sort of attention and keep your focus on your friends but it was starting to feel uncomfortable.

But out of the corner of your eye, you also noticed a tall slender man, wearing a dark blue suit, with raven colored hair and a well-groomed beard walking toward you.

Biting down on your lower lip to keep the smile from spreading across your face, you shook your head back and forth as he came closer, and smiled that perfect smile of his only for you.

“Freeze, soldier! This group activity is for government contractors only!” You shouted with a smile.

Billy pulled you into a firm embrace by the waist so you were flush with his body, looking down at you with his million dollar smile and love in his eyes, he planted a kiss on your lips.

Resting his hands on your hips, his tongue swiped across his bottom lip, probably tasting the beer that was on your tongue moments before he kissed you. The spicy scent of his cologne hovered in between your bodies as he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead and then cupped your cheeks to kiss you again.

Billy loved touching you in every way possible because it reiterated to him that you were real, you were right in front of him, and it comforted him.

Touch was his love language whether it was brushing your legs with his fingers while watching tv, holding your hand while he was driving, or keeping you close while you slept. You were his in every way and he would never let anyone put their hands on you.

“Ok, well what if I tell you that you look really pretty today? Can I stay?” He asked, flashing that perfect smile at you again.

That smile would be the death of you. How were you supposed to say no to him?

“Maybe…what are you doing here, Billy?” You asked as you set your pool cue down and folded your arms across your chest.

“Would you believe me if I said I was in the neighborhood?” He asked, as a devilish smirk stretched across his lips.

Narrowing your eyes at him you replied. “Uh, I think you’re full of shit, lieutenant so no, I don’t believe you.” Your voice dripped with sass, as you lightly poked him in the chest. “Are you spying on me?”

With a sly smile, he tilted his head up and quickly glanced at the ceiling, he knew he was caught and flicked his gaze back to you.

“Is it so wrong of me to not want another man to try and put his hands on you in a place like this?” He said, gritting his teeth and whispering in your ear.

You pressed your tongue to the roof of your mouth before telling him. “And what makes you think I would let another man put his hands on me, Billy?”

“Like I said last night, sweet girl. I can control who talks to you.” He said in that soft sexy voice of his. The words fell like warm honey from his lips and soaking your panties in the process. “You don’t know the vile things all these guys in here are thinking.”

“Oh and you do? Maybe you should add ‘mind reader’ to your list of special skills.” You said sarcastically with wide eyes.

He started to shake his head and press his lips together in a straight line before saying. “Always with that smart mouth, huh baby? Ya know I could think of a few other things you can do with that mouth of yours and talkin’ back to me ain’t one of them.” He hissed in your ear.

Smoothing his hair, you gently pulled down on the back of his neck so his ear was close to your mouth. “Stop turning me on in front of my co-workers, baby. I mean it.” You said as a sly smile tugged at the corners of your mouth.

Billy knew exactly what he was doing to you.

“Ever been fucked on a pool table before, princess?” He purred, his breath tickling the side of your neck.

You playfully smacked him on the shoulder and lightly shoved him away from you. This was bonding time for you and your co-workers, he can talk dirty to you at home.

“Alright, alright! Go get a beer, actually get me one too please and I’ll let you stay.” You said, giving him a wink as he turned and walked away toward the bar.

Continuing the game with your friends, you noticed one of the guys from the “frat pack” a few tables over started walking toward you while Billy was gone. Before you could stand up after sinking your shot, he “bumped into” you. His crotch grazed your ass as he did and then acted like it was an accident.

You turned around quickly, breathless with anger and a thread of warning in your voice. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!!” You yelled.

He stood in front of you with a smug grin on his face, trying to act apologetic. “I am…SO sorry! I didn’t see you there but you are even prettier up close. I was watching you from a few tables over. How ‘bout I play the winner?” He said, looking at you and then at your friends.

You caught the strong scent of beer on his breath as he stood in front of you, trying to inch closer but you wouldn’t let him, and he tried to reach out to grab your hips but you backed away even further. In your peripheral, there he was, taking long strides to get to you as fast as he could and leaving the beer on the first table he passed.

Billy must not have seen when the stranger put his hands on you because he would have been laid flat out if he did. You didn’t hear him approach from behind but you felt him, you knew he was there however light on his feet he was.

It was almost like a sixth sense you had when it came to him and before you could say anything else to the rude stranger, Billy was standing in between you and the handsy frat boy.

Silently communicating with your friend that saw the whole thing, you shook your head at her basically telling her NOT to tell Billy that guy put his hands on you.

“What’s goin’ on here?” Billy asked, glaring at the stranger. “She’s taken.” He said, shielding you with his arm to stay in back of him.

The stranger moved from side to side trying to get a better look at you. “Well she hasn’t said anything about being taken, have you beautiful.” He said.

His compliment made you nauseous, your stomach immediately started churning, and you felt like you needed a shower after what can only be described as he was undressing you with his eyes.

“Well, I said she’s taken. Do you know what that means? Get…fuckin’…lost.” Said Billy.

The stranger stepped into Billy’s personal space and you waited for it. You waited for those words to be said because you knew they were coming.

“Oh yeah? Are you gonna make me…pretty boy?” He said in a wicked hissing whisper, giving Billy a slight shove to the chest.

The stranger kept poking, he kept provoking Billy into a fight but he wouldn’t budge. Never swing first. And he finally did, he took two swings at Billy which he dodged both of them, kicked him behind the knees and smashed his face into the wooden pool table which you were sure the entire pool hall heard.

It didn’t knock him out but it did knock him to the ground and the hit to the head probably gave him a concussion. With the frat boy writhing around in pain with a bloody nose and an egg starting to form on his forehead, Billy squatted down lower to the ground and with hell burning behind his dark eyes and acid in his tone said.

“Who’s pretty now?!!”

When the stranger took his first swing at Billy, you had moved out of the way, and while you were huddling with your co-workers, one of them said “Maybe it’s time to go?” Everyone cracked a smile and after he hit the ground, Billy walked away and over to you.

Everyone else was fine, except the guy who was prone on the floor with his face turned to the side. His friends rushed over and tried to help him stand up but you were sure he was seeing stars while employees of the pool hall asked them all to leave.

“Are you alright, baby? Is everyone ok?” He asked with concern in his voice. “Asshole, got blood on my shirt.”

“I’m fine, handsome.” You said as you turned to your friends to say “Same time next week, right?”

“Definitely!!!” Your cubemate exclaimed.

You said your goodbyes to your friends and told them that you would see them tomorrow and apologized for the extra action on their Wednesday night.

They all said the apology wasn’t necessary, they had a great time and even asked if Billy was available next week to be their bodyguard. He shyly turned away and you knew it was because he didn’t want everyone to see him blush.

Putting his jacket on, Billy turned toward you. “I can’t leave you alone for five minutes, can I?”

“Technically, my love, everything turned to shit when you showed up soooooooo.” You said with a coy smile.

“There’s that smart mouth again.” Billy said.

A few tables over, you noticed a group of women checking Billy out, batting their eyelashes, laughing and tucking their hair behind their ears while taking sips of their drinks.

“You have some admirers, soldier.” You huffed.

“I didn’t notice…but that’s because I belong to someone else. And she doesn’t like to share.” Billy said. He winked and smiled at you, pulling you in close. “Right, sweet girl?”

You snaked your arms around his neck and gently tickled the back of his neck with your nails. Goosebumps pricked his skin as you closed your eyes and pulled him toward you so you could rest your forehead against his.

Billy claimed your lips like he had so many times before, the butterflies in your stomach made your body shudder every single time.

“You’re all mine, Billy.” You said, tugging gently on his hair.

He looked down at you with his hypnotic brown eyes. “And you say I’m possessive.” He said.

“Well I guess we’re both a little uh…domineering, huh baby?” You said with a warm smile.

Billy chuckled. “That’s just a fancy way of saying we’re both a couple of jealous assholes.”

“Maybe it just means we really really love each other?” You said.

He shrugged and smiled. “Sure, baby. I like the sound of that better, anyway. I do really really love you, y/n.”

“I really really love you too, handsome.” You said as you placed your ear against his chest, forgetting all about every other person inside the pool hall.

Billy Russo was a marine, you wouldn’t know that by looking at him now in his designer suit, his $500 tie, and sterling silver monogrammed cufflinks.

Those were products of the hard work he put in, first as a marine and second as a CEO. He had been fighting off bullies for his entire life, even as a small child when he shouldn’t have had to.

He should have been protected and loved but neither of those things happened for him although it made him the strongest person you’ve ever known.

You finally understood why he was so overprotective, why he was so possessive of you and it was because no one had done that for him.

Every day that you told him you loved him, every time you smiled at him, every time you told him he was good enough, and that he was wanted, it helped to heal the broken little boy that was still inside.

The empty space in Billy’s chest that craved love was finally full and that was because of you. The lesson he was still trying to learn was that he didn’t have to hold on so tightly to keep you. You stayed with him because you wanted to, and the fear of abandonment he held close was slowly peeling away as you gained more and more of his trust.

Billy’s eyes shone like two pieces of onyx as he peered down at you, his intense brown eyes doing the smiling instead of his lips as he whispered in your ear. “Let’s go home, baby.”

You looked up at him through your long dark lashes and with a devilish grin on your face, you asked him. “Ok, my love. Did you come up with some other things I can do with my smart ass mouth?”

He let out a sharp exhale against your lips. “Oh I have a couple ideas, princess.”

Tag List: @mindidjarin @saintmurd0ck @wheresthesunshinesblog @rafaelakelley @idaoftheburningmind @snowkestrel @xdervyxccgh @mattmurdocksscars @fakehappy27 @music-indie-tv @fictional-hooman @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @celestialams @idek-what-to-put @anastasianeedstoread @ratsys @k-marzolf @nutmeg17 @rosaleenablack @vaguekayla @qu1etwolf @danzer8705

Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @jvanilly @russosafehaven @mrsbillyrusso @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend

If you’d like to be added (or removed from) my tag list(s) for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕 If I tagged you but you didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again.

[safely-in-vhagars-belly]

''Fight and Die'' PART TWO Slightly darkAemond x AFAB Reader

Aemond x fem oc/reader

Tags: Show setting, abusive brother (but its not aemond) mentioned of forced marriages and duels, mentions of parental loss.

🔷Summary: Your ancestors once betrayed the Targaryens and paid a high price. Now you are back at court with your brother, who hopes to sell you in exchange for his freedom.

🔷Author's note: It might still be a little darkish but not as dark as usual. I think this is the closest to show aemond I ever got. So he still is not a unicorn yall but he is at least imo he is decent and nice.

🔷Wordcount 6803

Warnings: Violence and smut but its consensual!:) fucking, smut, p in v, titty sucking, titty play, mentioned abuse (but aemond is not the abuser) stalkerish behaviour (imo)

---

The words that your brother spoke to you, haunt you like a pestering ghost, a memory of a life long forgotten, yet it is everything but a memory. It became reality the moment Prince Jacaerys suggested to marry you, Lady Revaera of House Marthyralys. 

There has never been a formal wedding between a Targaryen and a Marthyralys. Your houses both survived the doom, yes. But your house understood something that House Targaryen has trouble understanding: The Iron Throne itself is no magical artifact. It does not grant you power. Not really. True power, especially the fickle love of the people, is won through actions, gold, and loyalty. 

You quietly wonder how afraid your ancestor Daeyor was before they burned him alive at the stake after King Maegor had died. Loyalty, gold and actions could not save him then. 

Who is to say it can save you, now? You no longer are the loyal servants of the Targaryens. Your family tried to kill King Viserys and had Rhaenyra killed as well. His precious daughter, their ‘Realm’s delight’. You no longer have the luxury of loyalty. Gold is empty, mostly earned by sacking of villages and towns you do not want to learn the names of, afraid the souls of its inhabitants will find you this way, bound their tormented soul to your own and lead you to your doom. Actions…..

What is one girl compared to Seven Kingdoms? Especially if she has no power. For she is not allowed to pick her own husband, or anything else for that matter. 

Your feet quickly pace as you make your way from the dungeons to the courtyard, gasping for air when you leave the dusty dungeons behind at long last. You take a moment to breathe, to think and to worry silently against the cold stone walls of the castle. 

For a moment, your world spins around you and the castle walls seem almost as liquid, threatening to swallow you whole and to merge you with the souls who died here so long ago.  A sharp yet gentle voice calls out to you, and you are shocked to see someone so nearby, almost jumping away from him.

‘’Lady Revaera. We were just waiting for you. The Duel is about to start.’’

There is something about him that does not sit quite right with you. The way an unfinished painting tries to light up a grand hall it obviously does not belong in. He is leaning on a crane, and one look at his feet and you know who he is exactly. This can be no one else but Lord Larys Strong, the man who currently holds the cursed castle of Harrenhall.

Larys is known to you and your spies as a clever, dangerous spider that spins his lies easily as his webs. You were warned multiple times to treat carefully around him, or you would become webbed.

‘’O, do I know you?’’ You ask.

He does not seem to notice your lie, or he does not care about the lie. ‘’Larys Strong, my Lady.’’ You have it confirmed, at the very least. You doubt anyone would lie about being him, and his nickname adds up. Despite your trust in this man does not exist, you avoid looking at his feet at all costs. ‘’The Queen’s personal hand.’’ 

Larys leads you a bit further into the courtyard, where a beautiful black haired man is preparing two swords by cleaning and cutting them sharp. He wears the familiar armor of the King’s guard. 

You turn your head and notice King Viserys sitting in a luxurious armchair with a blanket over his shaking legs. Next to him stands Queen Alicent with her hands folded in front of her green silk gown. Their son, Prince Aegon is close to them and is occupied cleaning his nails until he sees you, quickly giving you a crooked, dangerous smile.

The Princess and her party approaches as well, fashionably late. Rhaenyra is the first person to enter the courtyard, as she will one day sit the Iron throne. She is closely followed by her husband, Prince Daemon, also once heir to the throne. Jacaerys walks behind them, wearing an impressive seahorse embroidered tunic with long pants. You can make out the chainmail underneath it from afar. 

Not a word is spoken to you by them. Nor does the Queen receive any hello. Only Viserys is greeted by the Princess with a kiss on his cheeks, and a faithful smile before she tucks the blankets tighter around his shaking body. Alicent glares as if she disagrees with the Princess, but lets her do her thing. 

Prince Jacaerys approaches you, a soft dreamy smile on his lips unbefitting of a prince. Unbefitting of this world, truly. He bows his brown haired head to you. ‘’My Lady. You are beautiful.’’ He says, as if that is a proper greeting. 

Rhaenyra’s scowl, what you assumed was one, is truly just her lips hanging in worry, not anger. The scowl softens when watching you make a small curtsy to Prince Jacaerys, your lips closing and opening when you praise the prince for his kindness. ‘’You honor me enough for a thousand lifetimes, my Prince. It is truly just a simple gown-’’ You feel a bit underdressed in the present of the Queen and the Princess respectively. Even Princess Helaena is dressed far better than you. 

Jace leans in a little closer, keeping his distance but still close enough for his hot breath to dance on your lips and to be able to see the light shining brightly into his eyes. ‘’I was not referring to your gown.’’ 

You feel the heat rise to your cheeks at that compliment, briefly turning your head just in time to see Prince Aemond approach the courtyard at long last. Together, bound in chains is your brother. Fyrand gives you a final glare. A warning to not mess this up.

The Prince ignores his sister, his nephew, you, almost everyone and goes to his father instantly. You watch as he too greets his king. His greeting is stiff, short, one-sided and rushed.

Prince Aemond does not wear his heart upon his sleeve, and you have trouble making sense of what goes on inside his head. But there is a brief crack that allows you just a glimpse of the man behind the beast when he greets his mother, and he holds her hands for a brief moment when she likely begs him to not participate in the duel to come.

‘’He is interesting, isn’t he, little sister?’’ Fyrand mutters next to you. You feel another load of blood rush to your cheeks, and you quickly look away from the prince. Your brother chuckles. ‘’He rides the biggest dragon in the world. Soon, he will ride you too.’’ He whispers.

You hear Viserys cough and Queen Alicent opens the duel now that everyone is present. Jacaerys is helped into his armor, when Aemond does his armor on himself, only allowing Cole to tighten it at the end of it. Jacaerys keeps conversing with his family, but Aemond does not utter a word to his side of the family. Judging by the hatred in his eye, he is already in battle against Jacaerys. Perhaps he truly never left that battle to begin with. The swords are handed to both, and you can instantly tell who of the two had the proper training by the way Aemond yields the blade all too familiar, too smoothly, too fast and too deadly. You gulp.

Your brother is led to the circle where both men have gathered. He stands in the middle between both, his hands still in chains but you could not tell by his victorious smirk. He acts as a free man. “Welcome, both of you. Today you shall fight until the other man yields. You fight for my sister, Lady Revaera of House Marthyralys. A fine reward, if I say so myself.” As on cue, you walk into the circle as well, your eyes lowered at the ground. ‘’That is close enough, dear sister. Go stand with the Queen and the Princess.’’ He tells you, worried of his greatest investment getting hurt. Or worse yet: Injured, ugly, defiled. You obey, walking back to the Princess and it takes place beside Helaena and Aegon.

Prince Aemond positions himself with his sword in hand, ready to deal the first blow. ‘’One of you shall marry Revaera after this day. One of you shall write history and unite the houses Targaryen and Marthyralys in blood.’’ You become a little annoyed at Fyrand’s needless monologue and just want to know who won already. Finally, Fyrand looks up to the sky, before cutting his own hand, dripping the blood in the circle. Jacaerys looks at his parents, confused and worried when Aemond does not even bat an eye at the sight, likely familiar with the offer for the gods. One shout causes the courtyard to fill with a silence that is yet louder than any scream anyone could have produced, their dragons included. ‘’Begin!’’

Prince Aemond approaches, his slender feet tapping lightly against the stones, as if dancing. His eye is on Jacaerys and for a moment you see the younger prince gulp at his uncle. But that moment passes quickly as you see that Jace reminds himself of something and takes a defensive stance too, rushing at his uncle in a surprise attack.

You thought Aemond meant to attack, but instead of that, he easily raises the blade and blocks Jace’s attack, smirking and likely taunting him with insults you can’t hear from here. Jace quickly jumps back, his sword now lowered. Instead of going in for a quick and easy victory, Aemond steps back, waiting for Jace to regain his strength and ego to attack him again. ‘’It is like watching a cat toy with a mouse.’’ Fyrand comments next to you, grinning as Jacaerys rushes at Aemond, before the latter steps aside, causing Jace to stumble out of the circle instead. 

Prince Jace returns with fire and blood and you can see a true Targaryen in him when he tries to attack his uncle once more, this time surprising him by faking right and going left near his face, causing the older prince to briefly, if just a moment, freeze up. 

Aemond does not back down however, forcing his sword up and blocks Jace’s easily, before pushing him to the ground with his strength, disarming him. “Jace!” His mother shouts, worried. Aemond nor Jace pay her any mind. Jace tries to get his sword by crawling away, but Aemond simply stands on his tunic with his boots, blocking his way with a sickened grin on his pink lips.

The king rises too, shouting as well. “Get up, my boy!” Aemond briefly scowls in his direction, hurt and betrayal written in his eye. The sword in his hands is pressed closer to Jace’s throat. “Do you yield?” Aemond asks.

Jace only has one response. Perhaps only one way of living. “Never!” You worry that although it might not be to the death officially, it might become that way if things do not slow down.

Aemond grins, forcing the blade tighter against Jace’s throat. “Yield, you bas-” This time Aemond is surprised as Jace hooks him on the nose, sending him flying backwards on the cold stones. Jace reaches for his sword, rushing at Aemond as if to slay him. Aemond rolls away from the blade, hissing like a hurt wildcat and likely muttering insults to Jace. 

Jace grins cockily as Aemond has lost his sword now too, and he holds his firmly in his hands. ‘’Let’s see how well you fight without your fancy sword.’’ Jace remarks. You see Aemond briefly look around, scanning the crowd for any other weapon. Jace knows he is disarmed. 

He looks at his mother and his stepfather. They tell him one with their eyes. ‘’Finish him!’’ And so Jace does his best. Jace rushes at Aemond with his sword drawn. Aemond listens. Aemond waits. And Aemond strikes. It becomes really clear to you that Aemond Targaryen does not care about a fair fight, and neither does Jacaerys. Where Jace took Aemond’s weapon, Aemond is one step ahead of him. You watch as the young prince is hooked in his gut instead, the sword missing Aemond’s head by an inch. Queen Alicent rushes to her husband at this sight. ‘’You told me there would be no death!”

Aemond easily steps around Jacaerys, avoiding the blade when tugging at his cape. Before you realize why or what has happened, Aemond pulls the cloak over Jace’s head, blinding him. An audible gasp can be heard from the audience as Aemond pushes Jacaerys on the ground, running back to pick his sword back up.

Jace growls in anger like a trapped cat, kicking the cloak off him and in the ground. You watch as the Targaryen dragon and the Velyaron seahorse end up in literal dust because of your house. Aemond swings his sword in response, before taking another stance. As if it says: Come and get me.

Jace charges with all his might and strength and while he truly tries his best, he is no match for Aemond. Not really. Instead of sidestepping, blocking, or blinding him, Aemond now simply has enough of the fight and hooks his legs around Jace’s feet, tripping him and bringing him down. He drops himself atop of Jace and levels the sword at his throat.

“Yield!” He shouts. Jacaerys weakly groans, feeling the back of his head. There is blood on his fingers. Aemond does not care. If anything, seeing blood makes him more eager. ‘’Yield!’’ He repeats.

You see Jacaerys look at his mother and father, his head hung in shame. “I Yield…” He feels bad about letting them down. You just know so. 

Aemond spits at the ground but you know he wanted to spit at Jace's face instead. 

Aemond grins at his audience, his eyes searching for you. You gulp when he blinks at you, at least you assume that is his intention.  ‘’What if I rather marry Prince Jacaerys instead? He seems kind and gentle.’’ You whisper to Fyrand when the crowd applause for the Prince's victory and Prince Jacaerys is helped up.

‘’You do not know what you need, I do, sweet sister. Kindness and gentleness will only take you so far. You need a husband not afraid to put you in your place, who won’t fall for your tears and won’t listen to your pleas. Aemond Targaryen is that man.’’ He whispers as Aemond is congratulated by the King’s guard.

‘’Your reward.’’ He pushes you to Aemond who barely glances at your trembling body. You do not feel as a human being.

Aemond does not say a single thing to you.

‘’When will the wedding occur? A week from today sounds reasonable.’’ Fyrand needs the wedding to happen fast.

A small condescending smirk grows on the lips of the prince. ‘’You insult me and my knowledge of my bride’s House. I know these marriages happen the same night the duels are fought, to prevent another challenger from rising up.’’ That is true. It is the reason why Grysalda the Bold was married to so many men. When Prince Car had defeated one, another challenger had appeared. 

But there is an issue. As any husband taking a wife, Aemond is entitled to your dowry. You asked for a loan but that loan has not yet been delivered. Your brother knows so. And that loan would be Aemond’s well earned compensation for taking you as his wife.

‘’I-I don’t have her dowry on hand.’’ Your brother fakes a small smile, laughing through his pain.

Aemond steps closer, sizing your brother up and down before speaking. ‘’Do I look like I need her dowry? I am a Prince of the Seven Kingdoms, of House Targaryen. And I can assure you, your pathetic amount of gold is not my motivation to marry your sister, you can rest assured of that.’’ 

“And you," he adds, staring at you for the first time. Your lips open but not a word comes out. Aemond steps within your reach, the leather of his boots cracking. Your chin is grabbed and you feel his warm bloodied hands caress your face, likely leaving prints of Jace's blood. ‘’You must prepare yourself. I wish to marry you before nightfall.’’ That is sooner than you anticipated. 

—

The duel is the discussion among the servants who help you prepare for your wedding day. It is odd, seeing how two people can differently recall events and leave out details to make their chosen one seem favored by the gods themselves. Both Queen Alicent and Princess Rhaenyra had sended you a lady to help you prepare. 

While Rhaenyra’s lady, Anya braids and brushes your hair, Alicent’s lady, Dyra puts your feet in soft silk slippers that feel softer than any bed you ever laid on. ‘’I can’t believe that Prince Aemond shunned dignity and blinded Prince Jacaerys. That was unbefitting of him.’’ You do not know how to respond to that, so you remain quiet. 

‘’Prince Jacaerys started it with disarming the Prince.’’ Dyra says, defending Prince Aemond as if he rescued her.

For some reason, Anya takes offense to that comment, and great offense at that. ‘’Prince Aemond did the exact same thing!’’ That is true, you saw it happen. But Jace didn’t allow Aemond to pick his sword back up. Aemond did allow that for Jace. But perhaps only because Aemond was toying with Jace.

‘’Should you two gossip about the princes? Won’t you two get in trouble?’’ You ask, becoming a little annoyed with their fighting. And they suddenly decide that maybe it doesn't matter who blinded who and who took who’s weapon away. They now have a far greater enemy.

It’s you.

For the remainder of the time you are not spoken to anymore and they are deadly silent. You are annoyed and worried and nervous for later. 

The gown they eventually pick out is an ivory color and has an open back with small dragon scales to honor your new husband’s house. There are black and red ones, as well as green and white ones. It is a colorful gown. Your hair is braided in traditional Targaryen fashion, and a small tiara piece, more a diadem, is placed on your head. 

The moment you are done you are escorted back to the throne room, where servants are rushing and running into each other, over each other and aside each other to arrange the wedding as soon as possible. You look up to see your house banner hanging next to the Targaryen one. You wonder if your ancestors would agree with what you have done.

You do not have long to think, for Princess Rhaenyra approaches you, this time without her son or husband. You quickly sweep in a curtsy, your eyes leveled at the floor. ‘’You look absolutely stunning.’’ Princess Rhaenyra says. You give her a thankful smile. The princess leans in a bit closer. ‘’Such a shame it won’t be for my son, however.’’ 

You remain silent on that matter. She smiles, kindly but you can tell her heart is not into it. ‘’Aemond will try to breed you tonight.’’ She says, and you are not sure why she would bother to remind you of that fact. You avoid her once more. ‘’Come to me if you wish to avoid his seed taking root. I have my own Maester at this castle. The Greens will never know.’’ She leaves before you respond to that, leaving you conflicted.

Soon it is time for the ceremony.

Your husband will be the last to arrive. Finally you and him stand in front of the Septon. He does not speak. Not a word. You become uncomfortable. ‘’You may cloak your bride, and bring her under your protection.’’ The Septon speaks. You feel Aemond cloak you with a smooth movement, placing the heavy cloak on your shaking shoulders. The septon smiles gently at both of you. ‘’One flesh, one heart, one soul.’’ He announces. Aemond bends his head gently, reaching your lips and briefly leaving a soft peck. You do the same, worried as you never kissed anyone before.

The rest of the ceremony feels nice as people congratulate you but you can’t help but feel that you are facing your execution. You know what will happen after this. You dread it. He will consummate the marriage. And you? You doubt you’ll survive it.

—---

The feast ends, and Aemond and you are now in his bedrooms. It is a big room full of books and a luxurious bed that reminds you both that you are not finished with your duties just yet. Aemond has taken a spot by the fireplace and has lit it, watching the flames consume the wood as you silently pull your nails, the final ones on your right hand. You aren’t sure you are allowed to speak, so you remain quiet. You aren’t sure you are allowed to sit, so you remain standing. 

Prince Aemond finally rises from his chair, his scent entering your nose as you quickly stop pulling your nails. His hands slowly go up to your throat, to where the pins keep the cloak he cloaked you with up. He works very smoothly yet carefully. It is dark in the room, said for the candles and the fireplace that make the room seem eerie and scary to you. The shadows that are casted by the fire are like a beast, devouring the room until only the dark remains.

The cloak drops to the floor with a dry thud. All that remains is your dress. Aemond takes a sharp breath, folding his hands on his back and making a quick circle around you, inspecting you as you look at your slippers, afraid of what he might think or say. 

It is tradition for the bride to have a dagger during her wedding night in your house. But for obvious reasons, you were denied one. So you may not stop what comes next.

A soft kiss is left on your forehead, before Aemond leaves a one sided but gentle kiss on your lips. You hear him take a deep breath once more.

You are turned around by him, your back facing his front. And his hands rest on the corset of your dress, that he begins to unlace. The moment he tugs at the strings, you feel a burden fall off your chest and yet you know this is not the end. This is only the beginning.

One by one, layers of your clothing fall to the floor. He takes a step back, his breath clearly roused by the sight of your naked breasts. You attempt to cover them, blood rushing to your cheeks. Instead of telling you to lower your arms or to smack you for blocking his view, he breaks into a precious small smile. ‘’My wife. My lady. My Revaera.’’ He tells you to disarm you with words instead of rough actions. He speaks with pride and possessiveness. 

Slowly you lower your arms, your nippels poking. He steps closer and his warm breath is upon your face once more as his fingers gently reach out to touch your breasts, giving you enough time to pull away or to put your arms back up. You don't. 

Perhaps you understand that you are his now. Perhaps you are scared. Or perhaps both are lies to deny that you are curious about this. You are curious to see what happens between a husband and a wife. He softly rubs your nippels, testing how sensitive you are to his touch before grabbing both breasts and firmly kneading it under his fingers. You gasp slightly confused as he pushes gently against your body, steering you to the direction of his bed with a lusty glance in his only good eye.

You stumble backward on the bed, falling on the sheets, your skirt all that covers you. Prince Aemond takes off his coat as well, unlaced his boots and pulls down his pants. You watch fascinated to see what he has between his legs. You never saw a cock before and somehow it looks yet alien and familiar.

He approaches you and climbs on the bed as well, towering over you. He takes your skirt off for you, as well as your shoes before he bends your feet, kissing your heels when making eye contact. You weakly moan as he begins to rub your irritated feet. ‘’You endure so much torture for me.’’ He teases, grinning.

You try to sit back up, to respond but he easily tops you, pinning you down with a smirk. He gives another soft kiss this time between your breasts and the leather of his eyepatch pokes you. And just like that, you feel the sliding of one of his hands down your belly, to your small clothes and finally inside of that too.  He gives you a fair bit of space and time to push him away again but the thing is, you don't want to push him away.

Your body reacts to this handsome prince and a pleasant warmth spreads from within your belly to the parts between your legs. And finally, Prince Aemonds fingers softly pet and feel what no one besides yourself felt before.

You didn't even realize you were holding your breath until the prince told you to release it. ‘’Keep breathing. If it becomes too much just say so and we'll stop.’’ He says, but you do not believe him that he would.

‘’So wet for me.’’ He murmurs against your neck. ‘’I know you are a maiden. I can tell. Tell me, my little maiden…’’ his fingers softly poke your wet folds. ‘’How shall I break you in, hm?’’

‘’I don't know…’’ You confess, as you try to make sense of his question. Break you in? How does that even work? It sounds painful. ‘’I'm sorry.’’ You add quickly afraid to anger him. 

Yet he does not move a finger. Not until you have answered his question. ‘’The least painful way, please.’’ You know he will do as he wishes. You are the wife so you must obey your husband. If he wishes to fuck you bloody no one can truly stop him from it.

Aemond's other hand softly cups your chin before he caresses your face gently, tracing lines only he can see. ‘’You worry for it?’’ He asks.

He must think you are a craven and a coward for being afraid of a little pain. Of doing duties you swore to do, of obeying a man that owes you. ‘’Yes, I know it makes me a craven and a bad wife but...I am so frightened of the pain.’’ You can't help the few lose tears escaping your eyes as you likely understand that the prince is disappointed and angry with you for this childish display. He had an eye taken from him. He claimed a dragon. He does not fear pain.

Instead he affectionately gives your forehead another soft kiss and you cannot read a single negative emotion on his face. ‘’My little maiden…’’ He murmurs again. ‘’Pain and pleasure are very close to one another. Closer than you might think.’’ You give a nod as if you understand his cryptic words. You do not. ‘’Kneel for me, please. On all fours.’’ He says, giving you an order for the first time since your marriage.

You feel a bit silly he asked this, yet you do your best to please him. So you kneel, on all fours. ‘’Like this, my prince?’’ You ask, your voice is a bit insecure.

He chuckles. A warm pleasant sound to match the warm pleasant wetness growing between your legs.

‘’We are married. I want you to call me by my name.’’He says, and you can tell by his tone he is used to ordering people around.

For reasons unknown to you, you want to obey him, yet mess up even this smallest request by accident.

‘’Yes, husband.’’ He psychically is displeased.

‘’My name, little cheeky brat.’’ You like the way your heart briefly rushes at his so-called angry voice. It was just him teasing you but you liked it.

‘’Aemond.’’ You say, obediently and full of admiration, turning your head so you can look at him. He blushes, keeping his eyes leveled at the floor like you often do too.

‘’Excellent. Very good.’’ He mumbles, avoiding your glance quickly. To prove his appreciation his fingers are gently pushed inside of you causing you to gasp. It does not hurt but the idea that man is touching you so intimately is shocking to you.

‘’Such a good responsive girl.’’ He whispers in his husky low lovely voice.  You shudder and moan quietly at the compliment, the soft touches and the building pleasure.

He chuckles. ‘’O, we like praise don't we?’’ You suppose. You never reacted this way to anything. You feel so small and powerless and yet curious and stronger than you ever felt.

‘’I am not used to a man's gentle tongue. I've only known their sharp hatred.’’ You explain to him.

Aemond nods, as if understanding that a bit too well himself. ‘’I thought you'd prefer it kneeling, as you might be frightened by the sight of it." It. You think for a while before it hits you what he means. 

‘’Yes,’’ You mutter, almost whispering. ‘’I apologize.’’ You add quickly. This likely is not what he signed up for when he fought Jace.

Another soft chuckle. ‘’What are you apologizing for?’’

‘’That I'm so wet and so confused and silly. I do not know what happens and how and what I am supposed to do.’’ You wish anyone had prepared you for this moment.

‘’Let me educate you then. Let me take care of you, as is a husband's duty.’’ You like hearing those words. All your life you had to take care of yourself. And now you have someone to watch your back. Someone who truly cares about you. Unlike Fyrand.

‘’You just focus on breathing and what feels good." Aemond tells you.’’

‘’What if I don't like it?’’

Instead of groaning or hitting you he softens his gaze. ‘’Your hands will be free. You may raise your left hand if I do anything that hurts or offends you. We shall stop the moment you do.’’

‘’My precious lady. My Valyrian little maiden.’’ He mutters when touching your chin, his mouth slowly sliding from your lips to your chin, to your neck, to your breasts…

And next is a moan close to a word that sounds Valyrian to you.

You communicated with your brother but only practiced sentences. Only words he used and whenever you asked he would deny you any further education.

‘’What was that, Aemond?’’ You ask, a little worried.

He breaks free from kissing and sucking your nipples, looking at you as if you confuse him.

‘’I said you were beautiful.’’ You suppose that is what would make sense. ‘’Don't you know Valyrian? The tongue of our ancestors?’’ 

You learned basic commands, basic survival words so you and your brother could communicate in secret should it be needed. But it took you months to master the easiest phrases. It's an elegant but tricky language, almost the way a snake would wrap itself around your tongue when you would speak it.

That is the physical part.

The emotional part is that your mother spoke it fluently. Your father was said to not even have learned a single word. Every word your brother had learned, came from the lips of the mother you shared and loved.

The mother that died birthing you. And you are sure your brother hasn't forgiven you for that crime. 

The words sound elegant yet thick and heavy, warm as a soft fire and his eye never leaves your face when he slowly speaks the words, kissing away your tears.

You try to understand what he said to you, in that moment. You try so very hard to remember every single command and word you learned....

But this one seems to be missing from your memory. This one seems to be absent.

‘’No, please forgive me.’’ You know it was likely high on his wishlist. It would be romantic to communicate with one another in a language that is almost forgotten by most.

‘’There is nothing to forgive. However, would you like to? Would you like to learn it?’’ He tilts his head, still rubbing your nipples and your entrance making it difficult for you to think.

You worry. That is not an easy tongue and you worry no one would have patience to stick with you.

‘’Who would even teach me?’’ You ask, laughing.

He stops sucking your tit, his tongue licking his lips as if to remember the taste of your body when his good eye slightly narrows in darkness and hunger you are unfamiliar with. ‘’I would.’’ He responds, in a heartbeat.

You blink. ‘’Do you even have time for that?’’ It sounds so draining and long. He is a prince. His schedule is packed as it is, you imagine.

He sits a little straighter, brushing his fingers against your face, kissing your cheeks. ‘’I'd make time for that.’’ He reveals. ‘’My wife should learn whatever she wants.’’

You think back of all the times you begged Fyrand to teach you. And of all the times he said no. To think you are finally going to learn the tongue of your mother, it means more than he could ever know. Tears break free. ‘’I'm sorry it's just I wanted that for years and Fyrand denied it so many times.’’

He briefly groans as if annoyed you mention him. ‘’You do no longer belong to that donkey. You belong with me now.’’ With. Not to. With. Equals. Not property. ‘’And I decided it's time you start living your life. Not just enduring it.’’

Aemond waits a moment after saying that, avoiding your eyes, clearly embarrassed by what he chooses to say. Instead of mocking him you touch his scarred cheek. At first he flinches but he trusts you soon after looking in your eyes. ‘’My brother said you were a monster. A beast who missed an eye with a horrible temper who would rape me every night for the rest of my life.’’

He raises a brow, insulted.

‘’Charming description.’’

‘’Yet you might be the kindest, most considerate man I ever met. And I met so many.’’ You tell him.

He thinks. ‘’I imagine you met hungry and desperate men. Men become monsters when they want to gain something. Just look back at how I beat Jace this afternoon.’’

You feel pride grow at this accomplishment. ‘’You wanted me then?’’ You ask.

He rolls his good eye, and grins. ‘’Yes.’’

‘’What for?’’ You ask, shyly touching his chest and drawing circles over his abs, watching his chest raise with every breath he takes.

‘’Can't you tell?’’

‘’My beauty.’’ You assume that would be it.

He shakes his head, touching your chin. ‘’You are beautiful, but it's not just that. Beauty does much for the male eye but for the brain to take interest there must be something there. Interest. Curiosity. Beauty alone is a horrible foundation. Beauty fades, beauty changes.’’ You, unknown to you, have leaned in closer and are staring at his lips.

He simply nods, confirming to you that he saw it and approves of it. You sit a little straighter, leaning in closer to his face and leave a soft kiss on his lips. You are gently touched by your hairs, touched as if you were made of glass and a single movement could shatter you. 

You expected him to perhaps dominate the kiss or to flip you on your back and to start fucking a child inside of you but none of that happens as the two of you just kiss.

Until you both do more.

You turn around, kneeling and he takes that a sigh of consent. It is. Your hips are grabbed gently and Aemond murmurs in your ear that you are perfect. Your cunt is touched one final time by him, just to feel what he did with you. He enjoys being inside of you with his fingers, feeling the wetness he created.

And after a much too long time, he finally sinks himself deep inside of you and gives the first shattering thrust that causes you to cry out.

Your head lowers as you become used to his soft thrusts that feel good and warm. ‘’So wet and tight for me.’’ He groans between the thrusts. You can only nod, driven speechless by how good and how fast the pleasure is building. Never in a million years you assumed you would enjoy your consummation and now you are. You are enjoying it, living for it and thank the gods for it. 

Aemond’s cock takes you deeper and rougher as the minutes pass by, his breath fast and yours a soft squeaky whimper almost befitting an old door. He feels harder than he did a few moments ago, and takes you when clearly hatching something. And finally he begins to grab your hips, fucking you now fully and as fast as his body allows him to fuck you. You never knew you would enjoy it rough, dark and fast but right now it is all that exists to you. He is all that exists to you. 

Your husband grins, madly before groaning and likely coming inside of you, before taking you another sharper and harder time. Your nails dig into the sheets of the bed, your cries echo and your body locks as Aemond encourages you to come as well. And you faithfully do what every good wife would.

You obey your husband and soak his cock when you shatter around him in dozens of pieces with a heart wrenching cry. ‘’Gods.’’ You murmur, catching your breath. Aemond leans back on the pillows too, your head warmly nestled on his chest. 

‘’No, just me, ‘I'm afraid.’ he answers in his mocking smirk. You roll your eyes smiling. ‘’I think you should get some rest.’’ ‘’It’s been a long day for you.’’ He adds, tucking the blanket of his bed around your body. Aemond picks up a book close to his bed and starts reading the pages, but he soon joins you in bed, sleeping too with his arms wrapped around your belly. And for the first time in a long time, Aemond Targaryen slept without nightmares, early wake-ups and in the arms of someone who at least tolerated him.

You wake up at Aemond’s clearly hushed voice, yet he sounds angry. He is by the door, covered in a robe and is trying to keep someone out of the room. You overhear their conversation. ‘’No. You can’t see her. She is resting.’’ You instantly know who is on the other side. Fyrand.

You feel uneasy and dread fill your chest as well as your heart is beating faster. Your brother laughs. ‘’You will let me pass, Aemond. She is my sister.’’ He says. ‘’I only need her for a moment, you can have her for the rest of the night.’’ Disgusted, Aemond blocks his way in once more. 

‘’She is my wife now, before she is your sister.’’ He steps a bit closer, making his voice softer but you can hear what Aemond has to say perfectly. ‘’I do not care that you convinced my father that you are no threat. Your sister belongs to me now. She will soon become a child, if the gods allow it.’’ He steps a bit closer. ‘’I have seen the bruises on her body. You will never torment her again.’’

‘’My sister is loyal to me.’’ Fyrand nearly shouts but you do not believe his words. You aren’t sure. 

Aemond shrugs. ‘’I will just have to keep my eyes on both of you, if that’s the case.’’

Fyrand grins. ‘’Good luck, since you only have one.’’

At that point, Aemond slams the door shut.

You quickly pretend to sleep, hearing Aemond join you soon after that. Your body is lifted and put back against his chest, his arms wrapped back around you. You do not know if he knows you are awake. ‘’No one, not your brother, not my sister, not the seven fucking gods themselves will take you from me.’’ He murmurs, causing you to blink uneasily. He does not see, however and drifts off to sleep.

You, however…..

You are awake for a very long time.

--

thank you so much for reading!

Hopefully it was fun

let me know what you think

[loveephia]

Hihi ❤️ I love your idea for the haikyuu and prompts! can i request a “I heard you talking in your sleep” and “your bed head is really cute with miya atsumu? if you don’t want to do two prompts, it’s okay, you can choose one of them ! ;3 love you <3

PILLOW TALK | atsumu miya

prompt: "i heard you talking in your sleep." + "your bed head is really cute."

content: (🦷) tooth-rotting fluff, reader off in dreamland dancing with unicorns, atsumu literally loves you so much, timeskip.

⚠ warning/s: none.

note: i'm gonna poo myself. this is such a cute concept RAAAAHHHHGHGHGHH(!?#(× i did both prompts because i remember you being one of my earlier readers. thank you for supporting me till now, and enjoy reading!!!

atsumu miya doesn't know how long it's been now, but he's been watching you sleep ever so peacefully under the comfortable duvet. your hair was sprawled out on the pillow, your mouth slightly open as drool flowed down your cheek, and your breathing was steady.

he tucks away a stray of your hair that dared to cover your beautiful face, and he hears something.

"i.. do." you mumble.

atsumu quirks his brow, "what's goin' on in that pretty li'l head of yours, hm, y/n?" he says barely above whisper, as not to disturb your precious sleep.

your eyes slowly open, trying to adjust to the light from the lamp next to atsumu. "hey darlin', i heard you talkin' in your sleep. what was that all about?" he asks out of curiosity.

you widen your eyes and sit up abruptly, checking your set of fingers on the left hand, then reaching over to check atsumu's. not finding what you wanted to see, you sit there in a daze, trying to recall what just happened.

from the way you looked so out of it, atsumu can't help but snicker. you look over to him, confused. "yer bed head is really cute, y'know that?" atsumu stated. you blink at him before trying to fix your hair to look more presentable.

"you gonna tell me what happened?" atsumu asked. you quickly shook your head, your cheeks reddening in the process.

you were at an altar. need i say more?

although atsumu really wants to know what happened, he lets you have your space and decides to wait until you're ready to speak about it.

atsumu leans over to give you a small peck on the lips, "let's go back to sleep." he says.

© lowercase intended | loveephia

[u5an5]

Of things obtained: Once Upon a Witchlight Ep. 3 | Let Them Eat Cake

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.

! Fair warning, this post contains SPOILERS. If you don't want to be spoiled, STOP READING !

.

Gricko

In possession from beginning:

Primal totems (gorilla, basilisk-esque creature; ep.1)

Alarm whistle (ep.1)

Glue dropper bottle

Eyedrops bottle

Items acquired:

Bag of 500 gold pieces (ep.1)

-3 for trying to make up making Red sad

Cloak of Displacement (ep.1)

1 ticket to Witchlight Carnival (ep.1) 5/8

Sycamore seed 4 (ep.2; +1d4 for ability check until dawn)

Clothes:

Comically too big cloth butterfly wings (ep.2; blue-red)

Really small Tentacle Chad T-shirt

Pacts/contracts:

Hootsie

Items acquired:

1 ticket to Witchlight Carnival (gained due Fey Pact; ep.2) 6/8

Clothes:

Cloth butterfly wings (pink; ep.2)

Pacts/contracts

Fey Pact 5: You must carry around a small pumpkin as though it were a precious egg (she holds it on her head). Once the Witchlight Monarch is crowned, all pacts made fade, and only then. (ep.2)

.

Gideon

In possession from beginning:

Items acquired:

3 letters from Mr. Roslov (ep.1)

1 ticket to Witchlight Carnival (ep.1) 5/8

Sycamore seed 5 (ep.2; +1d8 for ability check until next dawn)

x5 Magical Cupcakes for winning the Cake Eating Contest

Each cupcake works like an invisibility potion. You must consume the entire cupcake for it to work.

Clothes:

Comically too small cloth butterfly wings (ep.2; red with orange rinds)

Cake Chad T-shirt about six sizes too small

Pacts/contracts:

.

Kremy

Languages: Common, Draconic

In possession from beginning:

Tophat

Cane

2 gold pieces (ep.1)

at least 2 handkerchiefs

Items acquired:

1 ticket to Witchlight Carnival (ep.1; misplaced it)

1 ticket to Witchlight Carnival (gained due Fey Pact; ep.2) 5/8

Satchel with Carnival map and Three Rules of Feywild (ep.2)

Sycamore seed 1 (trait "I am easily amused" until dawn; ep.2)

Clothes:

Cloth butterfly wings (ep.2; purple)

Pacts/contracts:

Due possessing unspecified knowledge he didn't pay for when he "abandoned his station" has to deliver 100,000 gold pieces to Mr. Garou by the end of the month (in next 19 days) as recompensation. If he's no longer able to do so by dying, the rest of the Krew is obligated to pay it (ep.1)

Fey Pact 8: You must declare your love for unicorns at every opportunity. Once the Witchlight Monarch is crowned, all pacts made fade then, and only then (ep.2)

.

Frost

In possession from beginning:

Backpack (ep.2)

Glue (totally not related to horses)

Glue antidote (got all used up to remove glue from Gricko)

Tambourine

Water skin

Items acquired:

Letter to Zybilna by Madrik Roslov (ep.1)

Bag of Beans (ep.1)

1 ticket to Witchlight Carnival (ep.1) 5/8

Sycamore seed 7 (ep.2; it turns into:)

1 gold piece

Dandelion (ep.2; reward for catching Red's interest; blown away while making a wish)

Clothes:

Cloth butterfly wings (ep.2; jade with yellow eyes)

Pacts/contracts:

. .

Krew (The Party)

In possession from beginning:

2 gold pieces (ep.1)

Items acquired:

5 gold pieces (ep.2; for street-performing)

Pacts/contracts:

With Madrik Roslov: In exchange for checking if Zybilna is alright, and if true, giving her the letter he wrote, Party will get what is left from his possessions once he passes away (ep.1)

With Diana Cloppington - In exchange for riddle concerning Prismeer, with knowledge and information she was able to store about current state of it in it, Party promises to, at least, attempt to help her return to human and be reunited with Sir Cloppington; Not really Fey Pact but on their rules (ep.2)

Altered states:

Twist of Fate curses:

(Gricko) 12 - You are physically incapable of looking anyone directly in the eyes [1:40:48 - 1:57:00]

73 - You gain the beauty of the gods as long as you view yourself in a mirror. If not your beauty will corrupt into necrotic eldrich horror (failed) [1:50:40 - 1:57:00]

(Frost) 84 - All water tastes oily, including your saliva [1:40:50 - 2:02:41]

(Kremy) 9 98? - You are insatiably hungry and you eat and drink messily and noisily [2:02:25 -

To-do list:

Get the 100,00 gold pieces by the end of the month (ep.1)

Find out why Madrik Roslovs patron, Zybilna, stopped answering his calls for 15 years so he can die in peace, knowing her fate (ep.1)

Get to the Witchlight Carnival before it ends and find the only available entrance to Prismeer, Zybilnas domain (ep.1)

Try to become Witchlight Monarch (ep.1)

Find out who was the man that cut off Lexi Pott's wings, why he did that and what happened with them (ep.1)

Find a way to reunite Diana Cloppington with her with her horse, Sir Cloppington and return them to their previous forms (ep.2)

.

Time

3rd day of Campaign, less than 7 hours till Coronation - same day, some time later

9th of the month (19 days until The Debt deadline)

Happiness Meter

+1 - Party absolutely smashing competition in Cake Eating Contest

Total money: 505 gold pieces

Random Info

Man whose name Lexi Pott's was unable to say was going to "wake her" and was very scared for Party meeting him. When they mentioned name Zybilna, she said they "already were too deep" (ep.1)

After Lexi Pott died, Party was surounded by Fairy Ring made up from mushrooms (ep.1)

.

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[broncoburro]

Noble Dress in The Tri-Kingdom

Vestur’s three kingships were distinct cultures before the Founding Wars.

They retain many of their cultural features. It’s easy to tell which Kingdom a lord, lady, or viscount is from at a glance.

Middle Kingdom

The Middle Kingdom seeks to emulate gentility and grace of the unicorn (one of the crest animals of their royal family). “Noble” colors like pastels are common, and gold is essentially a requirement. Vestur values battle culturally, but years of safety and excess means military influence has been essentially sanded off of attire, save like... ornamental epaulets.

Modesty is a must - having any skin showing below the neck is VULGAR and CRASS. Ideally your scarf or cravat should cover that, too.

Tasteful gold jewelry is appreciated. Hair is kept long - usually dreads or braids.

Wear for men means stockings and highly embroidered frock coats. Heel-length dresses for women and highly ornamental sleeves! Other accessories like a capelet or jacket are also encouraged.

Northern Kingdom

There is a limit to how impractical dress can be in the North, and so this makes Northern nobility look quite out of place compared to the high fashion of the Middle and South.

Few dyes in the unforgiving and icy Wasteland means ornamentation is strictly through feathers or embroidery. If you can manage color, it’s saved for an especially flashy accessory - like a cape or hat. Jewelry is minimal since it is cold against the skin. Hair is kept short, usually - though women may wear it longer if they like a Middle Kingdom flair.

Formerly a nomadic culture right up until annexation, dress is much less gender-segregated because Northerners didn’t historically have different clothing for men and women. However, Middle Kingdom influence means difference has been injected in. Women wear pant-skirts as a compromise... though if nobody from another Kingdom is looking, they’ll just wear a pair of breeches.

There are less nobles from the North over all simply because there is less workable land to lord over and maintain, so many end up in the King’s Army. This has lent a heavy military styling to their dress.

Cultural holdovers from their nomadic roots include: spurred riding boots, the ornamental feathers, largely black color scheme, and the use of hats. However, anything resembling their heritage is seen as gauche by the middle kingdom... so you see less fur and wide-brimmed hats than their commoner counterparts.

Southern Kingdom

The Southern Kingdom is rather unique, as in addition to having a defined territory, it maintains many other trading enclaves throughout Vestur’s peninsula. (Dress would look very different for a Southern enclave within the Northern Kingdom for example, but I won’t get too in the weeds there.)

The Southern Kingdom is a culture deeply invested in trade and mercantilism, and so are essentially teeming with exotic textiles, dyes, precious metals and rocks... you name it.

As a result they have the most elaborate dress. Capes, sashes, loose-hanging and billowing cloth of all colors is the pinnacle of beauty.  The more colors, the better - you had just best make sure they are coordinated.

Ideally too, you should wear enough jewelry to jingle when you walk. Especially if made of gold or especially rare gemstones.

The coastal South has held onto more of their unique dress sense than any of their enclave territories, or the North. They don't feel as much need to pander to the Middle Kingdom sensibilities because they were already a thriving country before teaming up with the Middle Kingdom. Joining with the Middle Kingdom was seen as a union of equals by the South, rather than a conquering by a superior political power like what happened with the North.

The hot weather of their territory means they show much more skin than the other kingdoms... in fact, the advent of breeches and shifts is relatively new, and only because the Middle Kingdom was so scandalized by their pantslessness and bare chests.

(A shout out to @lsdoiphin since Forever Gold’s worldbuilding is a collaboration between her and I!)

[thatbadadvice]

Help! All These Boring, Ugly Bitches Won't Hang Out With Me

Care and Feeding, Slate, 23 January 23:

Dear Care and Feeding: I live in the very lonely overlap of a Venn diagram, and I need help figuring out how to fix it. To keep it short, I’m a mom who was on the fence about having kids, so I’m not a very ‘mom-y’ mom. My kid isn’t my life or my identity, and while I think I’m a caring and attentive parent, I’m not the primary parent, and I like it that way. I lost most of my non-parent friends when I had my kid. However, my appearance and interests still very much scream “non-parent.” My kid is off-putting to the people most like me (many are overtly judgmental), but my looks and lifestyle are off-putting to other moms (for example, I prioritize my appearance, have a lot of tattoos, and value my work). This has left me very lonely and isolated. Finding friends as an adult is so hard, so please don’t suggest “finding my people” as I’m very extroverted and have been trying to make new friends for years. It’s not working. If I’m honest, I think my childless friends think I’m stupid for having a kid, while my mom acquaintances are jealous of my appearance and judge my choices. It really sucks. —The Worst Venn Diagram

Dear The Worst Venn Diagram,

Holy shit, a mom ... but with tattoos? Is that even possible? You think you've heard everything at a gig like this, but then someone as incredible as you comes along with such an unusual life story! What a remarkable woman you are.

I can see why it would be difficult for someone as hot and interesting as you to make meaningful connections when you yourself are so special and have a lot of tattoos, and moms are always so ugly and boring and worthless and don't have any tattoos, let alone a lot of them. It might help take the sting off to reframe it this way: it's actually a much bigger bummer that all those sad, frumpy mommy-bots are missing out on an amazing opportunity to befriend a mom with tattoos. Can you imagine how enriched their lives would be if they could get over themselves for just one minute and try to understand you as a person, rather than making a bunch of generalizations and assumptions based on surface-level observations? But here they are, writing you off as soon as they see how beautiful and covered in tattoos you are when you walk around with your important briefcase from work. It's really their loss.

You're practically a unicorn! I mean, okay — unicorn is hyperbole. But you get what I'm saying! You're probably one of a handful of women anywhere who has a kid and also cares about the way she looks, and when you add in the fact that you work and have just so, so many tattoos? I don't know, unicorn might not be far off.

In light of that, you've set for yourself a really hard task here. It's not going to be made easier by the fact that the dull and homely stay-at-home moms who stupidly chose to contribute nothing worthwhile to society are being so judgmental about the way you live your life as a gorgeous, professional cool girl who just happens to have a kid. You have such a neat and fun lifestyle and other women don't! Why should you be punished for being a valuable person who, more importantly, values herself, unlike the other moms, who look like absolute shit and never have anything interesting to say and don't have tattoos and are so mean and critical of your choices and the way you look?

Never forget this: you are exceptional. It's not such a mystery that you've been trying so unsuccessfully to make friends for so long. Of course you can't "find your people." There are none. You're a sexy mom with tattoos and a job, and that's always going to be hard for the two kinds of women on earth to understand, whether they're the kind of woman who is a judgy, child-free asshole or the other kind of woman: a jealous, kid-obsessed mommy zombie.

You are one of one — wild and precious and brave and free and so, so pretty, and with so many tattoos. You must never let motherhood define you — only everyone else.

[nikibogwater]

I watched The Last Unicorn (1982) with very, very little prior knowledge of the film. And I wasn't planning to, but I ended up taking notes because wow. This movie. It's something.

The very little prior knowledge I had was as follows: it's an old animated film about a unicorn and I've occasionally heard people talk about it fondly. That's it, that's literally all I had going into this thing. It was not nearly enough to prepare me.

Ohhhh I love the scenery! Man, nothing hits quite like a traditional hand-drawn backgrou--OH MY WORD WHAT IS THAT WHY IS IT MOVING LIKE THAT STOP IT

Ohhh, this is a Rankin-Bass production? Well, that explains the animation.

Yeah that is not a unicorn, that's a llama with a table-knife glued to its head.

Ooh, the opening credits play over a lightly animated medieval tapestry! That's so coo--aaaaand they picked the most 80's sounding song I can imagine to go over it, okay.

Yo this butterfly is stoned out of his little buggy mind, maybe he should get some rehab.

Love that it's not immediately clear what the "red bull" actually is yet. Is it a literal bull? Is it a raging fire? Is it the inescapable march of industrial progress?? Gotta stay tuned to find out. (edit: it was literally just a bull and I need to stop reading symbolism into every little thing).

Ok ngl, the "Man's Road" sequence was actually fire, despite (or perhaps because of) the 80's cheese.

Angela Lansbury!!! Man, she just ate this role. Who'd've thought Mrs. Pots could sound so threatening?

I would die for Shmendrick.

Oh that is a very lore-accurate harpy right there. (⊙_⊙;)

Love how the witch's carnival arc touches on the idea of truth vs. wishful delusion. There's a beautiful irony in a movie about a literal unicorn talking about the importance of staying grounded in what is real and truly beautiful.

No, seriously, I would die for Shmendrick. Protect this precious man at all costs.

Can we pretty please stop calling the witch Mommy

"That's my immortality!" eyo this witch is actually a great villain. Really wish she could've stuck around for the whole movie.

Awww, the unicorn is taking care of Shmendrick! That's so sweet! God knows he needs it.

Shmendrick: Run! We'll find each other later! *immediately gets captured*

Have I mentioned that I would die for Shmendrick.

I feel like the entire bit with the outlaws had a lot of connecting shots cut out for time because I really couldn't follow any of what was happening.

Hehehe...That tree looks like a butt. I wonder if they did that on purpo--WHAT THE HELL

*nervously glancing over my shoulder to make sure my family doesn't see me watching this*

Unicorn to the rescue!! Thank heavens.

"That was true magic." Then please don't ever do true magic again.

"How dare you come to me now, when I am this?!" H-hey, nobody told me this movie was gonna go that hard...

Mom-friend acquired! Just in time, too. Unicorn looked like she was getting real tired of being the only one with two brain cells to rub together.

Our heroes: *bracing themselves for what may be the darkest, most dangerous part of their journey* Freakin' Gerry Beckley from "America:" 🎵MOON RISIN'! DISGUISIN'!! 🎵 Gotta love that tonal dissonance.

Oooh hey the animation on the Red Bull is actually kind of good!

Molly: DO SOME MAGIC! Shmendrick: I CAN'T! Molly: YES U CAN I BELIEVE IN U Shmendrick: *does some magic* Molly: NOOOOO WHAT HAVE U DONE Molly I love you, but make up your darn mind.

Love that being turned into a human being is like, the worst thing that could ever happen to the unicorn. Yeah, being human is a pretty awful experience.

Boy there is just empty static behind Prince Lir's eyes. Homeboy doesn't have a thought in his head and probably never will.

Lir: babe look I got u a severed dragon head pls love me

Oh yeah. Marry this one, Unicorn. He's a keeper.

Molly: Shmendrick will help! Unicorn: I hope for no help from him. He is no magician now, but the king's clown.

GURL SAY THAT AGAIN! U KEEP DISRESPECTING MY BOI SHMENDRICK AND U WILL GET THESE HANDS!

The pirate cat is now my second-favorite character. I've known him for all of 10 seconds, but I love him.

He doesn't actually purr. He just says, "Purr, purr." I love him even more now.

"No cat anywhere ever gave anyone a straight answer." Most accurate line ever put to film.

Unicorn, please marry Prince Lir, you well never find a purer source of Himbo Energy than him. Look at him, he's even singing badly for you, you gotta take this one.

"I mean you can't really be that ridiculous magician's niece--" BETRAYAL. OUTRAGE. SCANDAL. I DISOWN YOU, LIR, YOU FOUL SERPENT WHO SPEAKS NOTHING BUT FILTH. I HOPE THE UNICORN BREAKS YOUR STUPID LITTLE HEART

Dang. This guy voicing the skeleton is putting his entire heart and soul into that laugh.

Prince "I love whom I love" Lir will not be stopped even by the threat of potential bestiality. I'd say Husband Goals, but first of all, ew, and second, he insulted Shmendrick so he is dead to me.

"I wish to God I didn't care about anything but my magic, but I do!" Oh Shmendrick, honey... 🥺

Yooo, that transformation back into her unicorn form was actually sick. For a Rankin-Bass made-for-tv movie, this thing pulls off some surprisingly good animation every once in a while.

Yeah, kick his magical red butt, little unicorn! Go save your boyfriend and your family!!!

What is it with Christopher Lee and playing creepy old guys who get thrown off of towers at the end

Wait, no, I only sort of meant it when I said the unicorn should break Lir's heart, I didn't think they'd actually do it!

Molly ditched her outlaw husband to travel the world with Shmendrick and honestly, I'd do the same if I was in her place.

Oh wow. She chose to save her own kind and return to her forest even though she loved Lir. This is actually very bittersweet and--GOTDANGIT GERRY BECKLEY, NOT NOW!!!

Closing thoughts: This movie was an absolute trip and I'm probably going to think it was a fever dream I once had after some time has passed. It's also the only movie I can think of that I would actually want a remake/remaster of. The story was great, though it jumped around from place to place so quickly that it was sometimes hard to follow what was happening. I like the characters a lot (mostly Shmendrick tbh but they're all good), and I wish there had been more time to let them interact with each other. You can see the potential for chemistry between the different personalities, but it's stifled by moments of awkward voice acting and the strange, jittery character animation. With more time to breathe and better animation, this story would really be something amazing. I'm actually very interested in reading the original novel it was based on now, I'll have to see if I can get my hands on a copy. All in all, The Last Unicorn (1982) is a mind-boggling experience with surprisingly deep themes combined with what I can only assume is what you see when you're on acid. If you have any interest, I would highly recommend seeing this thing for yourself.

Yes. Even the Boob Tree. Please. I don't want to be the only one who is cursed to have that scene in my brain.

[aerkame]

Is there perhaps an explanation as to why Finfolk are so obsessed with silver? I tried to look up information online but can’t seem to find an answer.

I could not find an answer myself, it seems to just be a thing with them. Much like how dragons have hoards, fairies love kidnapping mortals, goblins having greed, the list goes on with characteristics in folklore creatures that are not explained.

Some of them could probably just be symbolism like how the dragon hoard in Beowulf cursed humans to turn into greedy dragons themselves. I wouldn't doubt it really. One of the stories (well two, but one only mentioned it) had Christian symbolism in the form of crosses that could ward off finmen from kidnapping women. They would paint a cross on their chest or hold onto a silver cross around their wrist and the women were warned to never turn their back towards the ocean, letting their guard down.

But aside from that, I really don't know. It might be symbolism for something but it is interesting as the folklore is from Orkney but has Christian influence sprinkled in SOME stories that I read.

Bit of a history/folklore rant

The cross on the chest thing really does remind me of unicorns (the original, not modernized ones). Unicorns are also Christian /English folklore creatures that were seen as wild, untamable, magestic beasts that could only be calmed by the innocent or pure of heart. It was said that they lay their heads on the chest of pure women, which is something that is often seen in some folklores that involved Christian values or had influences. I personally think this is because of how the soul was viewed back then. A lot of people always thought of the heart and soul as everything to the person and not the brain like today. So it would make sense that it was seen that the chest/breast (where the soul and heart of a person is) of an innocent woman was extremely precious and needed to be protected from evil or harm. (Fun fact: This is also why everyone always went for the chest in battle. A stab or shot to the chest was considered instant death, not the head.)

I would like to note that when talking about folklore, I tend to lean towards learning from OLD English times. They have some really interesting things to learn about and some of the folklore is just so fun to get into. Also old unicorns were really badass looking. So strong, so beautiful.

In case you couldn't tell, I really love history and folklore.