#metal owls are out metal dragons are IN

[owlofthenight117]

You know, you probably wouldn’t actually want a knight in shining armor to rescue you. Any well experienced knight is going to have somewhat scuffed armor especially if they see a lot of battle. A new shiny set of armor is probably an inexperienced and new knight that probably isn’t qualified to rescue you from the dragon. And you know really, have you asked the dragon what it wants? It could just be a really bad toothache they need to fix, and trying to kill them when they was for help is honestly just quite impolite and rude. Moral of the story/randombitthatlivesinmyhead, order a knight in not so shiny armor, and ask the dragon what it needs.

#i mean i guess #be nice to dragons #and knights them to #honestly the constant crunching of metal #not good for your teeth #really hurts actually #like we don’t need to do that #metal has really no nutritional value #and all that fabric #it’s like eating your meal and flossing your teeth at the same time #just spend days picking metal slivers and fabric scraps out of your teeth #and oh dear is you breath fire that that stuff melts #just thoughts of an owl I guess #be well #stay safe #don’t forget that you’re important too #why haven’t I hit 30 tags yet #come on tumblr #I’m just going to keep on keepin on #how was your day? #are you eating enough? #sleeping enough? #drinking enough? #how can you boost your mental health #but don’t do drugs #those are bad #have a good night #have a good day #have a good life #you deserve it

[gillyeowalters]

I love the small things about Warframe's design so much. Like, the Duviri architecture.

[Spoilers!]

The houses obviously are just wall parts of the Zariman, arranged to look like settlements/towns. The same goes for many of the harvestable plants, that also mimic Zariman design elements (especially noticeable with the cactus-like Ueymag, that has an unnaturally symmetrical shape, mimicking the often repeated tuning fork-shape).

Duviri has multiple bioms, plains, snowy mountains, a desert, but they are all way too small to exist naturally.

All this paints the picture of a world created by the mind of a child, who might have never seen anything else but the inside of a spaceship. They might have never seen other architecture, so all houses have to look like they were ripped straight out of the Zariman's structure. They know that mountains and deserts exist, but they do not understand their scale, so they become just one more small piece of Duviri. Just like cartographs back in history they fill the unknown of their world with set pieces and the skeletal structures found all over Duviri lend themselves for a comparison to this "Here there be dragons" mindset.

Children build and recreate what they know all the time to learn and better understand it, but also to express their wishes and creativity. This gives the idea of a child, confined in space, wishing to get to be somewhere else, visiting the places they have heard of.

We get to see quite a few rather large settlements in Duviri, but the amount of houses and people does not seem to match. In general, only very few people seem to be roaming the streets. This is not an adult doing extensive worldbuilding, this is a child with a lot of building blocks but very few dolls building a world on which they can project their emotions and memories onto.

Most of Duviris normal inhabitants are just decorations, not existing to be characters, but because a town "needs to have people in it". They are not defined by who they are, but by what they do- and what they do is react to the player, sit around, talk and cower in fear when enemies approach.

The simple shapes of the buildings are very close to the concept of real life building blocks. Paedagogic toys often are simple, to allow for easy handling and more creative freedom.

The theme of death is also omnipresent. Every animal resembles a carcass build from metal plating and even the Dax enemies are skeleton-like, the Gladius' helmets lower part even resembling a rabbit skull. We obviously know how the story of the Zariman ended and the skulls and bones might be just an indicator of potential danger, but what if the skeletal design of Duviri's inhabitants are not supposed to indicate not (just) death, but an infinished state? They are walking skeletons, yet missing a skin, their shape, just like the fractured bodies of the townspeople, not fully formed out in the child's head. Since the townspeople are humanoid though, they look more finished, while all the child might have ever seen of sheep, cats, dogs, horses and owls could have very well been just pictures in a school book, maybe next to a diagram of their underlying anatomy (after all, one of the few things we get to experience of the daily life on the Zariman, is school).

There is also an enemy called the Dax Herald. A Herald was a specialist in ceremonies, making sure that they were held correctly (besides also having diplomativ tasks). Their head resembles a security camera, adding a layer of oppressive social norms normal humans certainly suffered under in the orokin empire

#warframe #warframe design #warframe ramblings

[rainystarters]

๋࣭ ⭑𓆩✧𓆪🗡ྀ࿔ 〖 stories and songs . . . 〗 a collection of sentence starters inspired by various codex entries from the dragon age rpg series. some prompts usfw. adjust details as necessary.

the wind that stirs their shallow graves carries their song.

heed our words, hear our cry.

oh, fair damsel of the garden!

surely your work is far too vital to be interrupted by one like me.

i was a fool to pluck that flower.

you are not a man known for your honor.

you allowed me to live once, and so now i do the same for you.

i am humbled by your words.

but some things cannot be repent.

there is something in here with us.

death is certain, either way.

you have been my rock and my shield.

strike true, do not waver. and let not your prey suffer.

as the sapling bends, so must you.

you are lost, and soon you will fade.

go forth and claim the empty throne of heaven.

you have brought doom upon the world.

magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him.

they shall find no rest in this world or beyond.

there is but one truth.

all things in this world are finite.

each night in dreams you may always remember me.

the light shall lead you safely.

i am but your faithful servant.

if blood must be shed and used, so be it.

step away from this folly, before it consumes us all.

i long to dance with you beneath the moonlight.

do not despair. for it is not you, it is of me.

my most heartfelt apologies for the ripped bodice.

such depravity i have never been forced to suffer!

let them hunt, and dread finding me.

truth will hold you for that is what truth does.

i shouldn't have doubted your resolve.

please accept my humble apologies.

in truth, it is i who has been most vulnerable.

the seals are already weakening.

it must be protected at all costs.

of unknown metal and magic keen, a finer blade there's never been.

any army is only as good as its equipment.

blessed by the vine in spring, i shall not fear the winter's sting.

only fools ignore the history of the ground they walk and the people they meet.

i could use an extra pair of eyes to keep watch at night.

i hope they found peace.

blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter.

in blood, my will is written.

we are forever in your graces.

the oath you have taken is all but broken.

can you be forgiven when the cold grave has come?

once we raised up our chalice in victory.

why change the past when you can own this day?

the wolves are our allies.

always keep an eye out for the noble owl.

nothing burns like the first cup.

gallows master, hold they hand. hold it back awhile.

look away, look into the sun.

you know we all are dying.

alas, i cannot stay.

we'll beat down the bastard, and then we'll get plastered!

what of the old secrets the burn in our hearts?

now we pray for a dawn that will never arrive.

but it is our blood he seeks.

you will realize the smiles are false, and behind them lies revenge.

for all your fancy intrigue, you have spent your life creating nothing of worth.

it moves on without you, uncaring.

who could bear the weight of a people destroyed by his hand?

what was your vision of our purpose?

so buy the lads a round.

i'm ashore for the night and seeking company.

i'd still rather die.

why be what i am when i can be more?

have you threatened to cut out anyone's tongue today?

for have i not grown in skill and measure?

binding a demon of higher power is dangerous...

let it be my choice to have served and died.

i'm not staying to watch you die like a fool.

the undead you have been fighting are people i killed with my own hands.

here is my soul, trapped in a cage of bone.

turn around, face the shadows. don't blink.

just going to lie here for a while.

chopping off their heads should do the trick.

i am empty, filled with nothing.

arrogance becomes our end.

i'm here to die. but i won't go quietly.

i don't want to die like this.

cry for the past; only there does glory dwell.

so the forest grows, a reflection of our might.

mourn the past and all that was left there.

mastery of the self is mastery of the world.

suffering is choice and we can refuse it.

pride disguises itself in its surety.

#rp meme #fantasy rp meme #action rp memes #sentence starters #rp sentence starters #rp prompts #rp sentence meme #rp starters

[rachiebeee]

some Leo headcanons I have

Leo doesn't know what day his birthday is. He knows its in July, but he hasn't done anything on it since he was 8 and he used to act like it was/wasn't on certain days based on how well they went (he thinks its the 7th, but he hates the number 7 so he ignores it).

Leo has stolen and crashed a police car. He will do it again.

Leo's mother and Aunt Rosa both had dreams from Gaea that told them Leo was going to kill Esperanza, but Esperanza took it as an "he'll do it on accident bc he doesn't know how to control his powers" and Rosa took it as "It's a sign from God and this child was sent by the devil".

He's asexual biromantic, but in love with the idea of being in love.

He learns a form of script-based magic - the same thing that is etched on each stone used for the Hecate cabin. Jo is his teacher, but when he visits camp all of the Hecate cabin are happy to help him too. He views it as a code instead of magic, and only ever uses it in the things he builds because he forgets it can be useful on its own.

He's a Fall out Boy stan. Loves all types of rock too, but FOB was his gateway into it.

Every time he went to a new school if they had a music program he could join for free he would. Originally he'd just choose a new instrument every school, but on his third try he learnt drums and decided to stick with it.

HIs eyes look like yooperlite while it's glowing, but more like burning coals while he's using his powers.

On that note, Leo's body temperature can be way hotter than the normal person's. On a normal day where he's fine in everyway, he's hot but not hot enough for people to think he's feverish. When he's excited his temperature rapidly increases, as it does with stress. When he forgoes sleeping his body forgets to regulate his temperature, which leads to him either going very cold or very hot.

He can't really get fevers at all really. It's also very hard for a lot of illnesses to effect him because half the time he burns it up before he even knows its there. When he does get sick it's really bad though, because his immune system is actually pretty weak.

Related to that, he is the only known person who can currently be a theoretical host to a thermophile virus. Not that he would, but it is a thought that has crossed his mind.

He has a hobby of making little robots. He makes Piper a bronze eagle one as a present and he slowly starts to make them for his friends

Annabeth gets a cat because he thinks she has cat vibes and an owl would be basic. Percy gets an otter because Leo did not want to think about making a robot fish that works well out of water. Frank gets a chameleon as a joke, but he makes it so it can turn into a small dragon too. Hazel gets a snake, again for the vibes. Nico gets a lizard. Just like, a nondescript lizard. He makes Reyna a bronze dog to "complete the metal set", but it's based of a Molossus of Epirus instead of a hound. Jo and Emmie get matching gryphons, and Georgina's little robot is a llama. Leo makes himself a wolf in honour of Jason.

On the topic of making things, Leo also gets really into all forms of metalsmithing. Which includes making jewellery, which leads to him getting a lot of piercings. Piper does too, because they went to go get the piercings together. He loves giving people little friendship bracelets, and charms, and ornaments. He makes people themed cutlery sets.

His love language is gift giving, if it's not obvious.

He stays in contact with Apollo, but in order to not upset Zeus they frame it as 'music lessons'. As the inventor of the Valdezinator (and its best player), it's a pretty good excused. Leo does make new instruments occasionally when they feel like they're pushing the 'lesson' excuse.

They fr just gossip during them though, and then give each other a scuffed form of therapy. They go from talks about petty drama to unanswerable philosophical discussions to jokes that make no sense.

#leo valdez #heroes of olympus #hoo #pjo #pjo fandom #toa spoilers #piper mclean #annabeth chase #percy jackson #frank zhang #hazel levesque #nico di angelo #jason grace

[twistedwonderlandsimps]

I've already actually had ideas similar to this but I've never really gotten around to writing it but!

Yuu AU where Yuu comes from a high-fantasy world. All kinds of creatures, whether mythological or not, exist in Yuu's world and aren't limited to humans. Additionally, humans aren't powerless because some of them actually have superhuman abilities and even magic. Kind of like the world building in 'I'm Not This Kind Of Hero' (check it out, it's a classic and makes me feel old) or Medusa and Futakuchi-san by Makise Shaun. Also, now that I think about it, it’s similar to Monster High but the atmosphere’s different. Monster High’s more on the creepy-cool theme while this one’s a more wider and diverse side. Same concept, different font.

Human, elves, dragons, dwarves, nymphs, slimes, fairies, humanoid, non-humanoid, whatever species it is, exists back in Yuu's world. Imagine Yuu belonging to one of these species.

Yuu as a giant merperson like Shirahoshi from One Piece. Of course they aren't in their  true form when they arrive because they won't be able to fit in the Mirror Chambers otherwise. Yuu definitely has the advantage when the Octavinelle arc comes up because they just steamroll past through the twins with a flick of their tail, lmao.

Yuu as a harpy. If they're the type that can lay eggs, imagine having to explain to Deuce that no, the egg they laid wasn't fertilized so it wasn't going to turn into a baby, calm down. Oooo, now that I think about it, variations of harpies! Owls, crows, eagles, everything! Regardless, Harpy!Yuu probably puffs up threateningly every time Crowley's somewhere in the vicinity.

Yuu as a dragonkin. Are they the Western type with the more lizard features? Are they the Eastern type with the more noodle-like features? Are they able to completely turn human or are they the type who constantly has their draconic features out? Probably either sees Malleus as a threat because of territorial and hoarding instincts or tries to hoard Malleus themselves because kin instincts. Well, depending on the type of dragon Yuu's gonna be, that is. Some dragons are solo creatures while others are more social.

Yuu as a slime. Whether they're more humanoid or just a round ball of goo, this Yuu's just vibing. Virtually zero damage can be done to them since they always just reform unless they're met with their weakness. Of course, this also depends on what kind of slime Yuu's gonna be since there's like a ton of slime variants out there. Some are infused elementally, some are infused with something else like metal, poison, acid, whatever. Oooo, just imagine a tiny ball of blob that can fit on the palm of your hand. This Yuu would probably be used as a stress ball a lot, that is if Yuu allowed it. Imagine a Yuu slime variant that doesn’t speak but instead wiggles to communicate. 

Yuu as a shadow creature. Which when faced off against the overblots just utterly decimates them immediately because not only are they a creature of the shadows, they are the shadows themselves. Kind of like Pride from Fullmetal Alchemist minus the eyes. Just imagine seeing your housewarden overblot and having this ink creature menacingly looming behind them and then see an even bigger creature appear and loom behind them. 

Yuu as an android, kinda like Ortho. I feel like this Yuu is the type to give Ortho a gun and be like, “Go, commit crimes, child.” This Yuu is probably a walking, talking military-grade bioweapon. Was definitely a big headache for Idia in STYX because Yuu hacked and overrode the systems.

Yuu as an arachne (spider-human hybrid). They just arrived and someone in the Mirror Chambar already fainted, frothing at the mouth (It was totally Jamil). They get Ramshackle and was like, ‘Score!’ and now it’s full of spiderwebs everywhere. It looks even more haunted than before, they’ve made themselves completely home. I don’t know why but I imagine this Yuu being the cheerful and energetic type.

Of course, let’s not forget the possibilities for the human variants of Yuu. Mad scientist Yuu who likes creating androids and robots. Probably has these tiny drone things hovering around them that shoot out lasers and practically doesn’t step outside Ramshackle because they’re too busy trying to build stuff until Crowley forces them out. Magic user Yuu who, well, uses magic. Probably doesn’t need any wand to cast spells and their magic is probably more versatile than the magic in Twisted Wonderland because they virtually have no limits in casting whatever aside from their limited mana.

Anyway, High Fantasy!Yuu.

#high fantasy!yuu #high fantasy yuu #'tis simply a mini au #twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland au #twst au #twisted wonderland yuu #twst yuu #twisted wonderland headcanon #twst headcanon #twisted wonderland headcanons #twst headcanons #twisted wonderland imagine #twst imagine #twisted wonderland imagines #twst imagines #twisted wonderland scenario #twst scenario #twisted wonderland scenarios #twst scenarios

[eldritcmor]

Hear me out! Hear me out!

Demigods x monster! 141 au

Because it would be funny. I love the fics of demigods being a bit more monster than initially lead on but it doesn’t really manifest til they either get to camp (a safe place) or hit puberty. Think about it! Zeus children who smell like ozone and seem permanently caught in a storm, eagle feathers growing in. Children of Athena with too big eyes and the ability to swivel their heads like an owl, owl down growing in. Children of Hephaestus who run incredibly hot, oil in their veins and metal for skin in some places. Their hearts ticks and their fingers whir. Children of Apollo who are hard to look at, who literally glow from the sun in their blood. Who sing like birds, and predict plagues. Children of Aphrodite whose appearance changes daily. Whose eyes never settle on a color and well maintained claws. Whose honeyed words can bind or break someone.

Now add in monster! 141. A one winged dragon, a harpy, a werewolf, and a wraith. Who see these children or adults presenting monster like features but humans look at them in confusion when it comes up in conversation.

A team who gets surprised when a bronze knife is pressed into their ribs a teenager because “I swear that’s a harpy.”

A task force who goes to investigate when manhattan goes completely dark. Only to find monster children in ancient battle armor dead, dying, or fighting for their lives against creatures not seen in centuries.

A task force that gets dragged into the fight with each demigod war. Who try to help the little monster children when the weight of the world is too much. Who reach out to allies and contacts because these are children who react like soldiers when faced with a threat.

Tags: @diejager @skylordgrey @isthatafuckinggayangel @josieguts

#cod mw2 #eld speaks #taskforce 141 #monster!141 #monster!141 au #john soap mactavish #captain john price #task force 141 #percy pjo #pjo hoo toa #riodanverse #monster cod au #monster 141 au

[themotherofblood]

Feel a little More

Tywin Lannister x Reader

Tears of Gold AU

A/N: Imagine Dany’s dress when she was presented to Drogo but in red, and instead of metal dragon pins they are golden lions.

tw: hands tied, manhandling, breeding kink, slight condescending Tywin but in a sexy way. overstim!!! cockwarming.

Ps. Aftercare scenes are a must for me!!

The hour of the owl held a certain anticipation, warmth and content in your heart. It brought you hours of unfiltered and honest moments of your marriage, whether it be a conversation, an argument or the pleasures of the flesh. These four walls were sacred to you, they protected you. That was the complexity of your union, to be in a loveless or unaffectionate marriage was one thing, being in marriage of intertwined souls was another. But the relentless mirage making that came with what you and your husband had was tiresome at best. To the rest of the world, your marriage was respected, Tywin protected you and you bore him heirs; that was it.

In the shadow of these walls however, your fear and yearning for one another ran wild, though Tywin was better at managing it, yours was in the testament of your duties as a wife. Here you sat in a yet another dress, sheer to the skin that clung to your body. A soft material against your goosebumped skin, and the cool metal of the lion pins against your shoulders. The sheer red material, exposed parts of you. Just enough to make a man want the rest of you but not quite give him the full gist of it. It was different than a trousseau, or perhaps a laced corset. More Essoi, in the fashion of seduction but you’d been rather open minded to most things that occurred in the bedroom.

You’d laid with your husband more times than you had fingers to count on, you’d birthed his children and he watched the blood flow from your core as his heir graced the world. Though every time his eyes raked down your body, a certain nervousness filled your senses. Like a lion anointing it’s prey before making the kill, it was silent and masterful. Just the way your husband loves you, a respectful and practical way. While you had been the nick of a dramatic lover beforehand, demanding of stars and dragons, his love towards you taught you to love better. To love within reason, and that love is stronger. It reminds you, each passing day that it could all wash away within a blink of an eye. Which made you desperate to love him harder, and to not mask any of your hearts wanton desires.

The handmaidens that dressed you took their leave, they were quite quick with it, changing you and getting your hair undone. Preparing you for your husband. You had moved around the room thrice, first you had picked the seating by the hearth, the second time- your bed and the third was the varenda. Long before circling back to the bedroom, you waited as your senses were shot to shit. You’d heard him coming before you saw him, his crafted boots crooned at the corridor of the tower before the door to your room creaked open. Your eyes met the green of your husband’s. Who still sported that same irked frown from earlier but one corner of his lip curled from seeing the ensemble you were in

You stood in the middle of the room, picking on your cuticles and fighting the urge to look at the floor. You weren’t sure where to put your hands, and nearly cursed your handmaiden for not talking about how stupid one might feel trying to be seductive. You stalked over to your husband, reaching your hand out to curl on the collar of the coat, pulling him further into the room. You knew he was still a bit bothered about you dancing with the lords that offered their hands, and you were only wondering what surprises awaited the sack.

His rough hands trailed down your body, feeling the sheer soft material against your skin, his hands coming to stop at the round of your bosom as his thumb ran over the now hardening nipple, his eyes fixated on how the cloth accentuated your figure, a soft hum left his body as his eyes trailed back up to yours. His eyes darted between yours, an emotion filled them that you couldn’t decipher but you knew your dress had an effect on him. He scoffed moving away from you and walking to the serving cart, picking up a cup and filling it with wine, bringing it to his lips as he turned to you. His chest rose and fell as his breath heightened, he scoffed again before closing his eyes and shaking his head. It made you a little nervous, not being able to understand what he was thinking about.

“You should go to bed.” Tywin finally spoke up, making your heart drop, did he not like your dress. Your brows furrowed as the gentle excitement in your face dimmed. Tywin still looked at you ravenous

“You should come with me then.” You threw back, he wasn’t just going to forfeit from this battle, he dragged this out for so long, only to deny you? You felt a little angry, you were frustrated and you were frustrated with lust. Your fingers reached to the gold pins on your shoulder, letting the dress come loose. Your thumb went under the straps to let the dress fall, in one swift push the dress pooled around your feet; leaving you naked in front of Tywin.

You body glistened in the light of the candles, the oils from earlier leaving your skin plump. You weren’t as talented in the art of pleasures and you were no whore, but your stood there naked, hands rested flat on your thighs. Your breathing a little heavier from the adrenaline rushing through you body. Tywin stood tall, leaning against the table, his hand clutching the edge and the other held the wine cup. His eyes shamelessly gave your body a once over as they slowly went down your body and back up to you eyes. He slammed the cup down on the table.

“Why do you find amusement in disobeying me?” He said as he closed the gap between the two of you in three long strides.

“You wanted a bride with more than half a brain.” You shrugged nervously smirking at him.

His pushed forward as your feet stood its ground, his hand came up to hold your jaw harshly, his nostril flared as his eyes raged on silently. You were a thorn to his side, and the more days the two of you remained married, your claws only seemed to have gotten sharper. Your husband however was well versed in how to tame you, how to make you obey. Though he quite enjoyed this rebellious and confident side of you, he preferred you on your knees for him.

“You truly want to toy with me, tonight. Hmm?” His head gently tilled to its side, his feet taking him forwards as your followed backwards. The grip on your jaw hardening. “Have your words lost you Lady Lannister?”

“Put my head on a spike, because yes husband.” You whispered back fluttering your eyelashes at him “I quite enjoy toying with you.” You gave him a smirk as best your could with your cheeks squished between his fingers. Were you poking a lion with a stick? You absolutely were, but there is just a sinful thrill to the things your husband does to you. It’s more like a prayer than a taunt, it’s begging for pleasure at his mercy.

“All those lords tonight, my wife.” He whispered as his lips grazed down your neck, his cool finger tips tracing down your spine making your flinch just a little. “Those pious, young and boneheaded boys.” He tutted slapping your hands away from his chest, the back of your thighs felt the edge of your bed. “Everyone one of them wanted you, I should know, I was their age at one point.” He let go of you jaw, reaching to undo his cuffs. You weren’t done toying with him though.

“Does that mean that your were boneheaded once, lord husband.” You bit your inner cheek to stop yourself from smiling, the thrill of teasing your husband made your stomach flip.

Tywin eyes menacingly raised to yours, his fingers still work on undoing his clothes, one brow quirked up as the green in his eyes appeared darker. “Do you think I’d be in my position if I was bone headed?” The look in his eyes made your confidence shrink, you gulped as your eyes stayed on him.

He pushed your body down to sit on the bed, you obliged and lowered down, the soft furs tickled against your bare legs. His hands reached to unbuckle the belt that held his coat together, letting it come loose and bending it in his hands. His other hand came right under your chin, his demeanour completely shifting as he gently tilted your head back to make you look at him.

“The second you feel discomfort, please tell me to stop. Is that understood?” Tywin’s voice ordered you in a softer tone as his thumb stroked your cheek. You nodded but that made him hold onto your face harder “Words, wife.”

“I understand.” You nodded again with your reply.

He held your hands up, looping the cool leather around your wrists, tightening them enough for you to not break free, his fingers lingered a moment as they held your tied fists in them his fingers caressing your hands as if to assure you that you were perfectly safe.

“Kneel for me, Y/N” His voice laced with lust as he ordered you.

You pushed yourself of the bed and onto your knees, the rug under you protecting your knees from being hurt. You looked up at him on your knees waiting his next command as your tied hands rested on your lap. He took a moment to appreciate the beauty knelt before him, your hair, your glistening skin and that pretty face with the sweetest eyes looking up at him. Your chest rising and falling as your breath quickened, your husband caressing your face as he looked down upon you, his fingers trailing from your cheek to your hair before flattening his hand you head to stroke it.

His other hand undid his pants and breeches, your hands instinctively coming up to tug them down his long legs, his cock sprung free of its clothed restrains, Tywin’s thumb grazed your bottom lip before tapping it, indicating you to open your mouth. As a good lady wife, you did as he said. Keeping your tongue flat and opening you mouth for him; all the while your gaze was fixated on him. His placed the tip of his cock on your tongue, on cue your lips wrapped around the red tip, suckling it in your mouth. The gentle weight of his length against your tongue as your mouth worked on him, he pushed his hips forward slowly until he felt himself touch the back of your mouth.

Not wanting to overwhelm you, he retreated out before pushing back in again. A hum rumbled through his chest in pleasure as the warmth of your mouth caressed his cock. His hips rolling into you mouth and back out, even in pleasure Tywin’s eyes watched you for any discomfort or hesitation while you sat there with you hands in your lap, letting your husband fuck you mouth. He gently picked his pace up, making you gag on his cock. The corners of your eyes tearing up from the strain of it before gagging again, making Tywin groan in ecstasy. He held you head there for moment as you focused your breathing through your nose, gagging shouldn’t feel good but with each thrust, your pussy pooled. You coughed as your head was pulled back, Tywin giving you just a second to breathe properly before going on to fuck your mouth again.

You mouth was covered in saliva as your husband’s assault to your mouth persisted, his hands had tightened their grip on your hair as he guided your head to meet him halfway through his trusts, gagging and choking on his cock.

“That’s it my girl, choke for me.” His breath hitched as he once more he held your head as his cock found itself deep in your throat. Your eyes watered even more as you gagged on his cock, you dug your fingernails into your palm to calm the panic coursing through your body while focusing on breathing through your nose. You were oddly enjoying your husband using you like this.

His pulled himself back, a trail of saliva from your mouth to his length connected as he gave you a moment to breathe and collect yourself. He watched you for any indication of discomfort but your eyes were flared in lust just like him. Once you cleared your throat and could breathe properly again, you looked up at him a smiled. With that he yanked you by your arms, your bobbly legs stood it ground but the speed of it all making your squeal as he turned your around and pushed your body onto the bed. Your marriage bed was tall enough for you to bend over and still have your feet on the ground. Tywin’s hand smacked the flesh on your back before groping it with both hands.

You could feel him lower down to his knees as he pressed a kiss to your ass, your pretty wet pussy presented to him like a meal on a platter, he used his finger to spread your outer lips open, hoisting one leg on the bed to give him more ground to work on. His fingertips grazed the sides of your cunt, teasing you and denying you from touching your most needy spot. Your hands laid under you, useless as your writhed in anticipation. You felt the tip of his nose nudge your clit before his tongue flattened on your folds, licking a stripe from your clit to your hole and repeating that few times. His tongue worked its magic on you as moans and whimpers began to slip past your lips.

“All mine.” He boasted as he ate your cunt, making your head fall in shame.

His thumbs pushed your lips further apart, making your clit grace the world bare. His tongue gently flicked the bare bud making your squirm and yelp out. Earning you a sharp slap on your ass by your husband. “Move any longer and you will go to bed right now.” He warned you before diving back into his assault. He loved paying attention to your sensitive nub, how it reddened and peaked through the hood in excitement making your sing the sweetest songs for him, it pushed your highs, brazen and crazed with pleasure. He took the flesh in his mouth to suckle on it, making you cry out. You were getting pushed to the edge the more he played with that part of you, his beard leaving the sweetest burns on your inner thighs as he devoured you.

You could feel yourself push right over the edge, and your wanton moans made Tywin aware too.

“Let go for me, my love.” He sat back on his knees to admire the mess between your legs, his finger rubbing circles on your cunt. His lips found your sensitive bud again, his tongue flicking the little bud until you felt the coil of pressure in your belly explode, making you scream out as your gushed on your husband’s face. He ate through your orgasm as you cried into the sheets, your nails digging into your palms.

Tywin’s beard glistened in your juices as he shamelessly licked his lips. Your cheeks heated in embarrassment as you tried to catch your breath, he gave you only a moment of respite before pushing both your legs onto the bed and holding your body weight up to turn you. You knelt on the edge of the bed facing him, he held your face to make you look at him. His fingers trailing down to cup your cunt.

“Would you consider this attention enough?” He whispered next to your ear as he dipped a finger in you, slowly thrusting it as he used his other hand to hold your face tighter. Your mind still disorganized from earlier, however his finger stirring your insides again made you pathetically whimper and nodded to his question before muttering out a quiet “Yes.”

Another finger slid into your cunt, his pointer and his middle finger filled your cunt as he slowly began to pick up the pace, his finger curling to stimulate the already sensitive nerves from the inside, your hands wriggled against it’s bonds. You wanted to touch him, you always touched him. Tywin looked intoxicated from the scene in front of him, your head fell forward to rest on his shoulder as he pumped his fingers fast, making you moan out. You felt hot and clammy and so sensitive but his fingers persisted as he began to urge you peak

“No, please, please.” You whimpered against his shoulder

“Please what, hmm?” Tywin’s voice held a amused tone to it, watching his wife break apart on his fingers.

You couldn’t reply but only grunt and then scream out as his fingers kept hitting the right spot inside you, your pussy clenching around his fingers, ready to blow through another orgasm that hurtled toward you. You took deep huffs of breath as your husband held you to stop your from falling forward, fucking his fingers purposefully into your pussy. Unlike the one before where pressure built up, your second orgasm bursted through like a dam. Your body weight held up by Tywin as you shut your eyes closed, tears of pleasure falling from them as a squeak and then a silent cry fell from you lips. A jolt of numbness shot through you body, the only thing you could feel was the constant throbbing between your legs and your husband whispering praises in your ears to coax you through the orgasm.

“You’re alright, so good sweet girl.” He whispered against your ear as your body shook from it’s post orgasmic state. Though your husband was not done with your yet. He gave you only a moment before pushing you back into the bed, climbing in after you, with absolute ease turning you to lay on your stomach. You were too engrossed by the sensations running through your body to protest. He lifted your hips up as your upper body laid flat against the sheets, your hands tied and yet again useless.

His tip was leaking with pre-cum and slick, and his body about ready to mount his wife into unconsciousness. He positioned his tip between your slick folds, rubbing his cock through them before circling his tip at your oversensitive clit making you flinch and cry out. Wriggling your body away from him, he told you this would stop whenever you told him to but you wanted this, you wanted his cock deep within you no matter how sensitive from pleasure you felt. He pushed himself in with ease making him groan, he took a tight hold of your hips for leverage before slamming his hips in completey. Making you grunt out into the sheets, Tywin’s body erupted in ecastsy as he thrusted into you hard, the sound of skin slapping filled the room with your incoherent moans.

“Perfect little wife.” He groaned between bresths as he fucked into you. “Made just for my cock, isn’t that right?” He slapped your ass to coax a reply out of you,

A mumbled “yes, made for your cock.” Slipped past your lips but sounded more like you crying for more cock. Tywin hands reached forward, pulling you up as his arm curled around your throat, the other went to greet your throbbing clit yet again. As his finger rubbed your nerves you cried out, tears covered your face from how oversensitive you were and Tywin relished in the pretty cries that left your lips. You felt yourself nearing again.

“Please, please I can’t.” You begged for mercy

“Yes you can, you will. Just relax.” Tywin grunted as he felt his peak reach him too.

He held your clit between his point and thumb and rolled it in between his fingers, it only took a few more thrusts before you came undone. Gushing yet again, wetting your husband’s cock. Your cunt fluttering around him, pushed him right to the edge.

“Take all my seed, nice and full.” He roared as his cock spurted it’s warm seed into your cunt. Your body falling forward into the sheets as he let you go, his hand slammed next to your head as he held himself up through his orgasm.

Your body felt like the apple pudding the kitchens make, any control of your limbs were lost to you as you felt as if your were floating through the seven heavens. In reality you weren’t but you sure were out of it, in an odd limbo of consciousness and unconsciousness. Once Tywin could move himself he gently pulled out, a rather full cunt this time considering he hadn’t laid with you in two moons. You whimpered as you felt yourself empty, clenching instinctively to keep his cum within you. Though even that turned to be a hard task. He gently turned you over to untie your hands, a gentle red mark had looped around your wrists which he lifted to inspect, rubbing them in his hands.

The sheets on your bed were absolutely destroyed, Tywin had walked over to the basin were the water was still rather warm, he dipped a cloth in to clean you up. When he reached to hold your legs open, you whined while lazily pulling yourself away

“No more, I can’t.” You whimpered

“No more my love, you did so well.” He cooed at you as he ran the cloth through your in thighs before wringing it and running it through your body. He wiped the stray tears that left your eyes as you blinked them open, sniffling before focusing your gaze on your husband. Who had a soft and comforting look to his face.

“Are you alright, Y/N” He inquired as his hand pushed your hair back, you nodded in reply; making him tap your lips for an answer

“Yes.”

He lifted you up effortlessly, taking you to the lady’s chambers. You lazily watched him with a post orgasmic bliss spread through your face. He put you down on the bed, you sat naked on the edge as you watched your husband walk around to your dressing table and retrieving your hair brush. You would have protested that he needn’t do that, you could have called your maids but when his fingers rubbed into your hair. You melted further. He took his time in comfortable silence, as he untangled your hair, one he was done he pushed you further onto the bed, maneuvering you under the covers before climbing in on the other end. You immediately curled up to him, he looked down onto your face. A small satisfied smile spread through his face as he took in the effect he had on you.

You however were fighting an internal battle, you were exhausted. Your husband nearly attempted to fuck you dead, but you needed his seed to catch. You tried your best to hold it in but youwere so tired, so you whined annoyed making your husband look down at you.

“Can’t hold it.” You pouted and your husband as usual had a solution for this too, he turned you the other way, his larger body spooning you. You felt him move around until you felt his softening cock enter your sore hole, you whimpered against his hold but he shushed you while gently pushing in. He stayed there still as his body cuddled into yours as every night before. He felt you flutter around, unsure of what to do until he spoke up.

“Sleep my love.” He whispered and so you did, your body grew heavier as your slipped into the world of slumber, content, warm and safe.

next chapter

#Spotify #tywin lannister x reader #desiblr #tywin lannister #house lannister #tywin lannister smut #tywin x reader #got x reader #got x you #ruiewrites #game of thrones #tears of gold au #reader interactive #reader insert #reader is female

[rain064]

Introduction:

Hi, I’m Rain, queer, agender, (you can use any pronouns for me), 18yrs old.

I’ve never really used tumblr before so idk if people introduce themselves on here or not- but I’m going to do so anyway. I created this just to post whatever, my interest, art, etc. mainly cause insta feels so dead? (Except my one friend, their my #1 fan fr <3) Feel free to talk or comment about anything I post just nothing rude obviously. Anyway here’s some of my art and interest…

(Cw: a bit of blood in my one art, I’ll try and do Cw for anything that may be slightly trigger just to accommodate for ppl, if there’s anything I don’t put a Cw but think I should, let me know)

1st photo is a human version of Gwen from Spiritfarer, 2nd Rin from The Poppy War series by R.F Kuang, 3rd me (yes I’m a trans demon), 4th is Satoru Gojo (kind of abstract art? Idk I never went to art school)

So now here’s a list of my interest…

Main: Various characters from various things I like to obsess over, think about, and analyse. Plants. Music (I’m more of a lyrics person, so I like to analyse that too) Tea. Moths.

Music: [Fav.] The Crane Wives, Mitski, Hozier, System of a Down, the Attack On Titan soundtrack [Likes] My Chemical Romance, Ghost, Rage Against The Machine, Slipknot, O. Children, Pinkshift, Depeche Mode, Linkin Park, Death, Anti-Flag, The Sisters of Mercy, Stiffed, Bad Religion, Pink Panthress, The Oh Hellos, Los Retros, Glass Animals (mostly HTBAHB album), Pierce The Veil, Florance + The Machine, The Fugees

Shows: [Anime]- Attack On Titan (Excluding the fourth season), Jujutsu Kaisen, Banana Fish, Nana, Full Metal Alchemist, Michiko & Hatchin [Other]- The Bear, Arcane <3, Bee and Puppycat, The Owl House

Movies: Everything Everywhere All At Once <3, Parasite, Wendell and Wild, Nimona, Spider-Man (Spider verse movies), How To Train Your Dragon (1+2), Birds of Prey, Ponyo, The Sea Beast, Kung Fu Panda (Only 1 and 2), Puss In Boots (1+2), The Guardians of Ga’Hoole, The Adams Family (1991)

Video-games: Red Dead Redemption 2, Spiritfarer, Bayonetta, The Last of Us, God of War, Legend of Zelda,

Books: The Poppy War (Trilogy) by R.F Kuang, The Jasmine Throne by Tasha Suri, The Wings of Fire by Tui. T Sutherland (My childhood books),

Characters: Levi Ackerman (I love him sm), Hange Zoë, Erwin Smith, Satoru Gojo, Yuji Itadori, Maki Zenin, Ash Lynx, Echo (Arcane) Fang Runin, Sydney Adamu

———

Anyway feel free to chat with me if you’d like, I’ll be posting mainly my art but a bunch of random interest as well.

(Ignore any spelling errors, and in terms of commissions, I’ll figure that out soon but for now I’m not doing them, will post when that changes. If you want to use my art go ahead, just give credit please)

#introduction #artwork #art #digital illustration #illustration #digital art #my art #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jjk #jjk fanart #spiritfarer #fang runin #the poppy war #queer #transgender

[gentle-giant-swag]

HELLO EVERYONE! I SHALL NOW REVEAL THE BRAKCETS

First up

Wait

MOST FUCKABLE GENTLE GIANT

The A bracket (finished)

Battle 1-16

(most submissions in form 1 and most submissions in form b)

Starts Friday the 9th of June. 5pm CET. The brackets will be posted between the 9-10th of June.

Side A, 9th of June. 5pm to 8pm cet

Raphael Hamato (rise of the TMNT) vs Totoro (my neighbor Totoro)

Heavy (team fortress 2) vs Big Friendly Giant (BFG)

King Dedede (Kirby) vs Scorpia (She-ra)

Bismuth (Steven universe) vs Susan Murphy (monsters vs aliens)

Fezzik (the princess bride) vs Dick Gumshoe (ace attorney)

Master Chief (halo) vs Bumblebee (bumblebee)

Big Macintosh (my little pony: friendship is magic) vs Massimo Marcovaldo (Luca)

The titan (the owl house) vs Tyson (Percy Jackson)

Side B, 10th of June, 5pm to 8pm CET

Ivan Bruel (miraculous ladybug) vs Asahi Azumane (haikyuu)

Takeo Goda (ore monogatari) vs Caduceus Clay (critical role)

Milly Thompson (tri-gun) vs Sandy (Lego monkie kid)

Jaguar D. Saul vs Jean Bart (one piece)

Komamura (bleach) vs William Ellis (identity v)

Beelzebub (obey me) vs Kazanari Genjuurou (symphogear)

Senri (plus anima) vs Murakumo (rune factory 5)

Holly (super lesbian animal rpg) vs Brutus Feels (Kane and feels)

The B bracket (finished)

Battles 17-32

Characters who have returned from the spring bracket and from fandoms I’ve personally interacted with. So the spring bracket but we blacklisted big man

Date: Tuesday 13/6 to Wednesday 14/6, between 5pm to 8pm CET

Side A (Tuesday)

The iron giant vs Baymax (big hero 6)

Gonta gokuhara (danganronpa) vs Jonathan Joestar (JoJo’s bizarre adventure)

Dj (total drama) vs Yasutora “Chad” Sado (bleach

Muriel (the arcana) vs Jasmine (total drama)

Subject Delta (bioshock) vs aaarrrgghh (trollhunters)

Klaus Von Reinherz (kekkai sensen) vs Asterios (fate grand order)

Hunk (Voltron) vs Gooliope Jellington (monster high)

Dragonite (Pokémon) vs Asgore Dreemurr (undertale)

Side B (Wednesday)

Alphonse Elric vs Major Lewis Armstrong (full metal alchemist)

Urbosa (legend of Zelda) vs Glamrock Freddy (five nights at Freddy’s)

Milla Vodello vs Helmut Fullbear (psychonauts)

Dedue Molinaro vs Raphael Kirsten (fire emblem: three houses)

Winston vs B.O.B (overwatch)

Kanji Tatsumi (persona) vs Common Wubbox (my singing monsters)

Mordecai vs Muarim (fire emblem: gay rights path of radiance/radiant dawn)

Minsc & Boo (baldur’s gate) vs Big the cat (sonic the hedgehog)

C BRACKET (ongoing)

Battles 33-48

Those who fell in between the A and the D bracket. So this one has some pretty chaotic matchups

Date: Sunday the 18th to Monday the 19th, 5pm to 8pm cet

A bracket: Sunday

Nicholas St North (rise of the guardians) vs Grear Danes (irl)

Falkor the good luck dragon (the never ending story) vs Susan Strong (adventure time)

Grandpa Max (Ben 10) vs Cerberus (Greek mythology)

Kiryu Kazuma (yakuza) vs Dr Joshua Strongbear Sweet (Atlantis)

Fatgum (my hero academia) vs Takashi Morinozuka (ouran highschool host club)

Will Powers (ace attorney) vs Luther (Detroit: become human)

The Tick (the tick 1994) vs Evan Buck Buckley (911 on fox)

Riki Nendou (saiki k) vs Hearts Boxcars (homestuck)

Side B (Monday)

Shirahoshi vs Tony Tony Chopper (one piece)

Jetfire/skyfire (transformers) vs Indus Tarbella (epithet erased)

Sisyphus (hades) Vs Grog Strongjaw (critical role)

Hugo the abominable snowman (looney tunes) vs Aone Takanobu (Haikyuu)

Android 16 (dragon ball) vs Tiny (ever after high)

Wrecker (Star Wars: the bad batch) vs K (virtues last reward)

Goldlewis Dickinson vs Potemkin (guilty gear)

Yasha Nydoorin (critical role) vs Lily Bowen (fall out)

D BRACKET

Battles 49-64

Aka the one where the contestants sadly got the least amount of votes)

Date: Thursday 22/6th to Friday 23/6th 5pm to 8pm CET

Side A: Thursday

lain chu (dragon hunters) vs Panda (tekken)

Isaroth (genshin impact) vs Bizarro (DC red hood and the outlaws)

Jienji (Inuyasha) vs Jackie Wells (cyberpunk 2077)

Looks to the moon (rain world) vs Jogu (naruto)

Bane Perez (identify V) vs Zinnia (super lesbian animal rpg)

Vulkanon (rune factory 4) vs Argus (Greek mythology)

Mountain (ark knights) vs Taiga Saejima (yakuza)

Abbi (Omori) vs Gorem (bakugan)

SIDE B: Friday

Junko (storm hawks) vs Hajin (monstress)

Gylph (super lesbian animal RPG) vs Bongchun (Bongchun bride)

Fitz Fellow (detective grimoire) vs Bubbles (questionable content)

Dubo (omega strikers) vs Bob the titan (Percy Jackson)

Otto the giant water dog (wondla) vs Kurita Ryoukan (Eyeshield 21)

Mele the Horizons Roar (ishura) vs Gentle Bear (dog island)

The Selfish Giant vs Banjo Lilywhile (the hogfather)

Livio the double fang (trigun) vs Hank McCoy (x-men)

I will make propaganda master posts and if you want to add, just use the ask box or dm me with propaganda for one of the characters who’s going to participate. But that’s all!

May the best gentle giant WIN!

SECOND CHANCE BATTLES FOR ROUND 1

27/6, apricot bracket

Battle 1

Battle 2

Battle 3

Battle 4

29/2, shavedown of the apricot bracket

The battle

1/7, blueberry bracket

Battle 1

Battle 2

Battle 3

Battle 4

3/7, shavedown

The battle

4/7, citron bracket

Battle 1

Battle 2

Battle 3

Battle 4

5/7, shavedown

7/7, durian bracket

Battle 1

Battle 2

Battle 3

Battle 4

8/7, shavedown

The (un)official GGSmod messed up someone’s name post

The crime list

Ask game

#gentle giant swag #tumblr tournament #fandom tournament #tumblr bracket #fandom bracket #my neighbor totoro #bioshock #Kirby #jjba #ace attorney #trigun #total drama #danganronpa #the arcana #the iron giant

[waratah-moon]

Super Like • Eddie Munson

Eddie 23

Car fixer at Indy Automotive Lives in Indianapolis 5 miles away

Looking for Still figuring it out

About me My friend said I'm a golden retriever gamer boy. Part-time twitch streamer, I know it's lame but it gives me the validation I never got as a child. Also in a band and we're metal as fuck. Hair is short now but I'm growing it out.

🌙 Leo 💌 Touch 🐾 Don't have any, but love 🚬 Smoker 🍃 Yes 🍺 Most nights 📱 Socially active 💤 Night owl

My Interests Tattoos, Dungeons & Dragons, Heavy Metal, Horror Movies, Online Games

My anthem Closer (NIN cover) Corroded Coffin

Eddie super liked you... part 2 - part 3

Masterlist / send me a message / Steve version

Send me a message if you want me to do a part 2 (instagram posts or texts)

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson smau #modern!eddie munson #modern!eddie #stranger things #stranger things smau #maggie writes

[flower-cage]

The Wolf and The Dragon | Chapter Five

by @flower-cage

Once again beta'd by the wonderful @em-writes-stuff-sometimes

Aemond Targaryen x Stark!Reader

Summary: The war between the Greens and the Blacks has begun and the youngest of the Stark heirs is sent on a secret mission to King's Landing. In its course, she will learn to accept the power that was never meant to be hers and the love she never thought she deserved.

Ao3 | Main Masterlist | TWATD Masterlist | Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | NEW Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 coming soon

Chapter Five: Dragonstone

Chapter summary: Together with the Prince and Ser Criston, in the aftermath of your vile actions, you undertake the final steps in your perilous mission.

Words: 6,157

Warnings: 18+ only; sexually suggestive content, violence, gore, mentions of blood, cursing.

Although this chapter does not contain explicit smut, later chapters will. Minors do not interact.

Your thumbs twist along one another, your leg bounces when you are seated, your digits tap any and all surfaces they can reach. That is how you await an order of execution to come knocking at your chamber’s door - but it never comes. You tense in the short moments the Queen Mother crosses your path in the corridors, awaiting her scolding, her disapproval, but it too never comes. You await snide comments reminding you of your lack of composure, your absolute discourtesy. You await Ser Criston’s animosity and the Lord Hand’s snubbing. You await even the stroke of lethal metal in the hour of the owl.

But none of it ever comes.

As though your deleterious thoughts insistently pursue you through the winding passages of the Red Keep, you walk with a fast gait and a posture inflexible, ears finely attuned to the voices which echo off the thick walls. You hope that your uncongenial disposition will scare away unwanted attention, for you wish not to discover what sentiments the nobility harbors for your terrible acts of incivility. Even when you shudder at the sight of a member of the court, however, it is your shame, not the consequences you expect to suffer, that devours you from within.

“And what the fuck have you just done?”

His words loop in your mind freely, trampling over any other thoughts and manifesting the same ice-cold repugnance that had consumed you at their original declaration. A foul sensation pierces your gut and suffocates you in self-disgust time after time. In all their unfounded malice, his words hold still one accursed truth: you had submitted to the behavior you so passionately condemn, to his infantile eruptions of bad temperament. A pitiful victim to your damaged ego, courtesy of his adamant rejections, you had surrendered to unruly vitriol and inadvertently confirmed his assumptions of treason and ineptitude.

“And when that threatens to fail, you lash out like a child.”

Your own words, spoken in moments of furious passion and etched with spiteful judgment, now mock you seven-fold. If he were a child, what were you?

This enclave of fear against shame that rages within you pitches also cowardice against bravery. In bursts of courage, you find yourself outside his door, in the dead of the night when the dark shields your insecurities from unfriendly eyes, and after hours of peaceful solitude have granted you empowerment. Every time, your fist is the first to rise to the challenge, inches from the dark wood, only to fall back to your side when your heart catches up with your mind and you become frozen with trepidation - or is it shame? 

And so, when your head hits your pillows, the brave has already given way to the coward, and your wish for closure and repentance has once more given in to your fragilized pride. When the sun rises each following morrow, it takes you into steering clear of his path, for the light of day too cruelly exposes your humiliation.

You do not see him again on the days that succeed your return from the Neck. You had neither shared words on the flight back, nor when you presented yourselves to the Queen Mother upon arrival. The War Council had not been summoned since your departure, each Lord having now been sent back to their own House seats to set forth preparations for war. Reserved for you is the tormenting task of waiting. Though you try keeping busy with visiting the Grand Maester, looking to be of aid, he quickly becomes exasperated with your insistences and most diplomatically dismisses you.

“I thank you for your dutifulness, my Lady,” he had smiled sympathetically, pushing you gently towards the exit of his study, “I will see you in a few days' time when all of this greenery has turned dust.”

To no avail, you search for books, instruments, arms, anything you could disguise as a critical element for your journey to the ancient island-seat of the House of the Dragon. In the end, it serves to prove only that, no matter your efforts, your mind - insistent in assigning him such high priority - is repeatedly envenomed by the infuriating Prince Aemond. Such are the lengths you take to deviate from his path that it is only at the stables at dusk on the seventh day that you are finally in his presence. 

You secure your cloak around your neck, your bow to your back, and your travel bag to the back of your stallion. Ser Criston revises the steps the three of you have diligently delineated and, though it helps mute your far more injurious thoughts, it does not cease them - not when the royal root of your distress stands present.

Reserved as usual, the Prince graces the knight with no more than nods and hums of pure courtesy. He does not look at you, as half the times you have been in his company. And yet, when you envision his commonly fervent looks, you shudder. There was never a balance, a common ground - whether violent or awed, he had only ever cast you ardent gazes. Either he did not look at you, or he attempted to set your soul aflame.

Every part of you tenses in his company, despite his ordinary demeanor. As a measure to remain calm, you focus fiercely on Ser Criston, only to inadvertently heed naught but your own desperate reprimands to cease all thoughts about Prince Aemond. 

“I advise we refrain from using our titles,” you hear, managing to catch the last of his directives. “We cannot be too careful.”

Too soon, however, the knight leaves you to retrieve the dragon poison the maesters have concocted, the weapon which will dictate your victory if effective. His back retreats slowly into the receding light and your eyes remain glued to it as much as they are able. Though the Prince refuses still to regard you, you cannot bring yourself to watch anything else now that your chief distraction has abandoned you. How could you not, when he has incessantly haunted your dreams and your musings?

He looks rightfully in place next to his stallion - both graceful, robust forces, one’s white mane complementing the other’s. As he secures his own in his usual method, your imagination paints the picture of his cloak hood forced back by the wind, silver hair flowing wildly like his horse’s, catching moonlight and stealing your breaths.

Whether it is the strenuous passage of time, or the weighty silence, or your flesh, exhausted from the burning and cooling of your greatly fluctuating emotions; whether it is the coward seeking to pretend amiability or the brave wishing to make peace; something compels you to release all your discomfiture. You choose to accept it, whatever it truly is, for it promises to liberate you from your self-inflicted torment. And you take the opportunity in this raw, perhaps momentary freedom to test the waters and evoke the tenderness of which you knew him capable.

“My Prince?” you try. To your surprise, he turns to face you fully, readily. “If I may-”

“My name,” he commands. “You ought to familiarize yourself with it.”

Not unlike most of your exchanges, his eye seeks to hold you, penetrate you, burn through your dignity to force your submission. Even in your resignation, it is against your nature to allow it, to surrender.

“If I may, pl-”

“Say it,” he orders.

In your hesitation, he steps closer - always seeking to subjugate you with his towering presence, always to no avail when you are engulfed by his sharp and sweet scent of sandalwood. With no allowance on your part, your nose draws in more of the air between you, made warm with his proximity and satiating an innate obsession you knew not. His fragrance has become intimately familiar and too quickly synonymous with passion, though you remain ignorant of how this came to pass. It makes your flesh thrum - his scent, his warmth, and perhaps the effort with which you refrain from reaching for him and ceasing the final distance between you.

The thought, the pull, invades you with such abruption you whip your head back in utter scandalization. With eyes wide, mouth parted ghastly, you look at him finally to meet his leering countenance.

“Say it,” he presses still, so remarkably close, voice luring you into obedience.

“Aemond,” you manage a whisper.

The shape of his name on your lips captures his attention, darkening his eye, and his evident appetence goads him yet closer. The width of a single, fine hair is all that separates you, but his energy is so palpable you feel him flush against you. Emboldened by your influence, encouraged by your undeniable cravings, your wayward fingers reach around his shoulders to pull on the bindings that secure his silver hair. A low grunt like a thunderous purr rumbles out of him.

“Your Valyrian hair might denounce us-” you gasp when his hands take your waist. “If I may, please… Aemond.”

The parting of his lips evinces the effect you intended to have when your grip tightens on his strands. He tilts his head further down as you resume your indecent ministrations. Expert and swift is your work, made easier by the lushness of his hair even as your eyes veer to remain locked in his. 

It is unclear whether each pull brings your faces yet closer, inch by inch, or if it is you who leans, but soon the intimacy is such that your eyelids become heavy, guiding your sight toward the pink flesh that glistens just out of reach of taste.

“Why do I remain standing?” The question tumbles out in a whisper, unprecedented; your mind incongruous with your heart. You nearly berate yourself for the disruption, though he softly smirks and incites you to elaborate. “Why haven’t I been denounced for my behavior?”

His humming fills your ears to the brim, tingling with its low vibrations and more finely attuning you to him. Even from behind half-shut lids, he contemplates your question, hiding its answer just behind the soft glinting of his eye and stowing it between his lips. A hand lets go of its grip on your body to brush the side of your neck. His calloused digits turn your skin rough in goosebumps as they journey upward, and he breaks away from your gaze to appreciate the pattern he leaves behind. Your chest burns with the toil of constraining your gulps of air, the unbridled beatings of your heart, the anticipation of his every move. Every second is addictive in its raw, ardent adrenaline until his fingers lodge against the curve of your jaw, where days prior they had touched with brutality.

As though he shares your thoughts, his own jaw sets into a stern place you know too well. In the blink of an eye, his face falls back into disregard, and the dizzying spell of attraction is broken. You think he traps something there too, in the taut clench of his teeth, perhaps something he had nearly set free.

“Aemond,” you whisper as he retreats, as your arms fall limply from his shoulders, but the word no longer holds the same effect.

Your every muscle aches when you finally come to a stop. Every inch of skin is covered in a viscous layer of sweat. It gathers on the edges of your brows, at the tip of the fine hairs framing your face. Its droplets roll down your neck, making the path they touch both tacky and ticklish. Your legs more than any other part of you sting from having clung to your horse so firmly. The beast itself huffs violently and you pat its neck, appreciative of its tremendous efforts. Had there been a faster, more furtive way, you would have willingly spared it. When your feet hit the ground, your knees almost give in to fatigue but Shadow’s firm bearing saves you from a disgraceful fall. She too pants loudly in her exertion, though she is quick to vanish between the trees, to no doubt chase after supper.

Indeed, the hour of the wolf merely threatens departure, the sunlight still a couple of hours away from washing over a starless night sky, the crisp, dewy air burning still from throat to chest. In these last moments of darkness, your small company seeks refuge in the woods just off Duskendale, at the exact midpoint of your perilous journey. In a clearing dwarfed by shrubbery, you build a small fire, and you soon sit about it, having fed and refreshed the horses, to share a quiet meal.

Shadow returns to join you, eventually, with a disfigured, unrecognizable creature pierced by her teeth. She settles across from you, on the other side of the fire, and too close to Criston for his liking. He shuffles farther as she proceeds to devour its flesh, blood splattering as organs are brutally yanked from the carcass. He regards his dry jerky mistrustfully, utterly repulsed, and you chuckle when he drops it back into his bag, defeated.

“Anyone else in your family have one?” he tilts his head toward her, untroubled by your amusement.

“Only I,” you tell him. “My father meant for her to be Cregan’s at the time.” You look at your direwolf, ever present, ever faithful, and cannot fathom carrying out this mission without her. More than your protector, she has become your strength, your friend, your home. “But she chose me instead.”

He hums exaggeratedly, knowingly, and raises his brows in a pretense of great surprise.

“I’ve heard a similar tale before,” he over–enunciates, looking unblinkingly at Prince Aemond as if the very emphasis of his gaze would erupt a response.

You follow his train of sight, but the man beside you gapes into the flames with his only eye - the one which remained after his own beast had chosen him. In the dark, they lick his skin rapidly, contouring his acute angles in blood-red hues. His iris glints like a ruby as it reflects the crimson glow and his blushing lips turn ruddy under the blazing lights. And though it paints him truly beautiful, ethereal even, it is a thought you entertain only absentmindedly. Rather, free of any sense of decency, you revisit the images of those lips as they had appeared mere inches from yours. In your mind’s eye, you see every curve and incline, every shade of pink, every fine hair and fading sun freckle.

“Can’t imagine your brother was any pleased about that,” the knight addresses you before you get trapped in a trance. He smiles like he understands precisely what had transpired between the Stark siblings nearly fifteen years in the past - like he had priorly watched the severance of familial bond. “I’m sure it’s been isolating.”

He regards the Prince still, and you understand clearly that he does not, indeed, speak of you. This time, the latter meets his mischievous brown eyes in stern warning.

Cregan had been twice your age the day your direwolf became yours. She was not yet fully grown when she walked out of the Wolfwoods in the company of your father, but in all the majesty of her raven fur and sapphire eyes, she was the amazement of all who had the privilege to lay eyes on her. And yet, all that had been beautiful turned terrifying when your brother approached, and she bared her menacing teeth.

Dark and broad and scruff like a true Stark he was already. Proudly he strode toward her as a king strides to his throne, as if that pinnacle of power had always been his to claim. In your brazen innocence, you swung yourself between them when your father’s fist clenched on his sword. But Shadow did not retaliate against the sudden move. From that day onward your friendship only grew, whereas the bond with your brother never bloomed.

“Not close to your siblings, huh?” Criston’s question is so attuned to your thoughts, for a heartbeat you believe to have vocalized them.

How could you have been? Your sisters had been betrothed and dispatched to be raised by their future families by the time you learned to read. Cregan never forgot the loss of Shadow to you, and your father never bothered to correct his remoteness.

“I have a good relationship with my brother Rickard,” you tell him instead, “despite our age difference.”

Always a diplomat - the Stark brother with the auburn-colored curls and the soft smile - he had slowly though surely assumed the role of the older brother as you grew into your maiden years. If Cregan is known to don the outward, boisterous charisma inherent in a great leader, Rickard possesses the quiet confidence of a mentor, one you cherish greatly. 

Ser Criston is the first to drift off after you offer to keep the first watch. He does not show further interest in your upbringing, and you, in your turn, prefer the company of the crackling logs as they char beside you. Evidently, Aemond preserves his quietness, also watching wistfully as ambers leap out of the flames.

There is a mystifying quality to the dark, specifically that which lingers late at night before the break of day. Inexplicably, it promises salvation; it promises protection. It erases your anguish and warrants your vulnerability as it seduces you with the prospect of forgiveness. And thus once more you find yourself yearning for repentance because the night veils your insecurities.

As you often do - as you can never refrain from doing - you watch him. For perhaps the first time you think you see him for all that he is; not a Prince of the Realm, or Aemond One-Eye, the Kinslayer, a second son, a dragon rider, but a man both whole and fragmented. You wonder if the night permits also the naked truths of the world, for under your eyes he has never looked so mundane, so grounded and connected to the physical realm in which you all dwell. There is no pretense of superiority where he simply sits in silence, no violent anger you hear belongs to the blood of the dragon, only a man who gets distracted by the alluring movements of the fire, who tires, who feels. Though to you his beauty and his essence will always be innately empyreal, he has revealed to you in short-lived moments of tenderness that his heart does remain human.

“Aemond,” you breathe, you choose the brave to speak. When he looks at you his eye is quick to soften, and you suspect it is the glittering of your own which elicits so. “I wish to apologize,” you gulp, “for my behavior… of earlier.”

Your clumsiness of speech evinces the burden of your humiliation, but each uttering that is unaccompanied by harsh retaliation frees you of whatever weighs on your heart, compelling you to continue.

“It was most unbecoming of me to defy and- and harass you, my liege Prince. And I greatly regret it.”

He does not grant you a reply, allowing you with his compassionate regard the floor so you may confess in this single moment of defenselessness all that you have previously inhibited.

“But I beg you,” your voice trembles, you grasp his hand where it rests on his bent knee, clutching his fingers as if that might urge him to comply, “to accept me not as your enemy, not as someone who aspires to usurp you of your station or your commendations,” you sniffle, containing your tears as you hold his unwavering, penetrating look, “but as a friend.”

He exhales, then, breaking from your insistent eyes and staring instead at your joined hands as though he cannot bear being the target of anything other than your spite.

“You might realize we have more in common than it seems,” you whisper, leaning in to recapture his attention, “and that’s a good thing.”

His eye meets yours briefly, and he turns his palm in your hold to take your trembling fingers. When his thumb strokes over your knuckles, your breath hitches.

“Why do you insist on my approval?” he murmurs gently.

It takes you off guard, his question, but most jarring is the softness he chooses to maintain. He does not mock your offering of peace, does not take the chance to humiliate you further as you debase yourself. And you find you lack an answer despite the parting of your lips.

“Very well,” he acquiesces, sighing resolutely. “I shall grant you pardon.” 

He rises before you can properly express your gratitude, and pulls on your joined hands so that you follow him.

“But only,” there is a glint in his eye you know well to be mischief, and it tugs a smile on your lips, “if you teach me how to beat you… in the dark.” 

A relieved chuckle leaves you, and with it does the tension that had tightened the muscles on your shoulders.

“I’m afraid I’ve brought only my bow,” you say, wiping the wetness on your eyes when they threaten to spill over, “for the sake of stealth and secrecy.”

“Funnily enough,” he responds, a smirk widening on his face as he reaches with both hands for the back of his head, “I thought the same.”

In a swift motion, he pulls two fine daggers from his back.

You know you should deny him. From head to toe, your body begs you to lay back down and rest. You know you will regret it at sunset, but when he extends you his beautiful knife, you take it anyway.

“Seldom will you have to fight in complete darkness,” you pant, “even so, if you learn to rely on your other senses, you will have an advantage.”

You deflect each of Aemond’s strikes, a feat more difficult now that you engage in close combat. The blunt side of your daggers meet every few seconds as he quickly learns to retaliate your movements.

“Attune your ears to your opponent’s breath and steps,” you advise him, breaking his quick series of advances with a few of your own, “the reverberations of their sword - all of which will denounce their position.”

“Allow your enemy the first attack, so you may learn their patterns and anticipate their moves.”

“But above all-” you sidestep his next blow, where he expects you to meet blade for blade, to position yourself instead on his blind side. “Beware of your weaknesses.-“

He turns to keep you on his good side - dagger first, torso second - but it is too late; you duck well in advance, anticipating his reaction, and land a swift kick to the backs of his knees, causing his fall. 

“For those will be their strength.”

You press the dulled steel to his neck and pin his body to the ground as you had the first time you faced one another in the training yard. And much like the last time, your noses brush when you first settle atop him, and his heated scent, spiced sandalwood made earthy with his exertion, is just as dizzying. He huffs, annoyed at being beaten yet again, but unlike the time he had lunged at you to seek revenge - and perhaps your death - the dim moonlight now reveals a toothy grin. It too traps you in a dazed state of mind and you fail to thus conclude your lesson.

“You positioned yourself on my blind side,” he concludes for you, groaning, “and used my height against myself.”

He allows you neither a response nor a reaction, for just as swift as you had been, he hooks a hand behind your knee and throws his body against yours to take over your position.

“But you forget that I am stronger,” his grin turns triumphant, devilishly triumphant, as he takes in your widened eyes, your parted lips, “and have not yet yielded.”

He holds your wrists to the ground above your head and his torso presses against yours, from his chest to his pelvis, where he kneels between your legs. Your mind has not been freed of its foggy prison despite his abrupt movement, and every point of contact between you is turned tender, hyper-sensitive to his every movement. His position of power where he towers over you, where he pins you at the same time down and against his body, for once electrifies you not with anger but with excitement… with want.

So it is a purely physical reaction when your eyesight descends to watch his flushed lips, making your own tingle with the effort it takes not to lunge and take them. Your insides coil when you go to meet his gaze once again, only to find it, too, fixed to your lips.

It is of their own accord that your eyelids flutter shut when he nudges your nose with his. His cupid’s bow is sharp when you let it pry your lips open, his bottom lip tastes salty when he lodges it between yours. And when his warm, warm tongue slides so slowly against yours, your jaw melts apart, allowing him deeper, allowing you to sink further into your hazy deliverance.

You can scantily reciprocate it - his tortuous, lustful, lewd licks. You can only let him do as he pleases. You can do nothing more than sluggishly burn and melt like molten lava, surrendering to the excruciating strokes of his honeyed, warm tongue. It licks its heat into you as if his very dragonfire is what drips from his mouth into yours, scorching your insides with desire as it descends into your most intimate parts, as they hum in delight. Its every caress is charged with a sensation so delectable your own slick muscle sits soft and still, stunned.

And you love it.

His torso presses against yours - as do his hands, his mouth, his heart. Your legs tremble as they yearn to spread for him further. And when you think you cannot bear any more of his touches, he rolls his body against yours, dragging his stiffened member against your clothed yet craving core. The lecherous movement forces a startled moan from your lips and too soon you both reel back from one another, parting just as easily as you had joined.

He looks at you wide-eyed and mouth parted as if taken aback by his own actions, though he does not take initiative to change your indecent position. His chest moves up and down in accordance with yours.

“My Prince,” you pant, “we shouldn’t-“

You cannot force the words out, for they get trapped in your throat. Your body loathes you. It aches for him madly with its every fiber and it loathes you for driving him away. But your head has finally caught up with your heart, and your Stark honor stubbornly stands its ground, even if hanging by a thread, compelling you to get a hold of your improper desires.

Aemond nods at your plea, slowly then rapidly as if amid the gesture he realizes the insanity of your activities. He helps you to your feet, and you both stand there, avoiding eye contact as dawn approaches.

“Forgive me-” he starts, but you shake your head before he can finish.

“It’s as much my fault as it is yours,” you attempt to appease him, appease the situation. “The rush of peril will do that to anyone.”

He never agrees, not as you walk back to your makeshift camp, not before he drifts off on the ground by your side.

The sun had almost made its way to the peak of its trajectory when Ser Criston relieved you of your appointed duty. You had watched it ascend over the twisted trunks attentively so that your tired eyes remained vigilant, only to fall into deep slumber the very moment it was granted. When he addressed you again, the sunlight was already scarce and you had time but for a stretch and a bite before you departed.

Once more the three of you rode fast under the light of the moon, under the shading of your hoods. As you approached the shores of Cracklaw Point, the winds gained an icy bite which you welcomed to refresh your fatigued muscles. After all, horse riding was merely the first physical adversity you would have to endure in this perilous quest.

Rowing had not been much easier, but at least your legs had gotten a chance at rest. With your wolf guarding the horses ashore, you were free to take to the ocean. The canoe your small party fitted into had been courtesy of the Master of Whispers and his muted men, hidden in the bushes with two oars. The dark waters of the Blackwater Bay shimmered in the light of the stars and, as Aemond had suggested, its waves were not nearly as vigorous as those of the open sea, permitting you a swift sail to the rocky coast ahead.

Most difficult had been securing your wooden vessel to a stony wall that would not part it in half when the waves rocked it back and forth, and climbing the menacing slope with a large bag of dusty poison strapped to your back. You had located an incline shorter than most, but its fall promised fatality all the same.

The Prince had taken the lead, his torso knotted to one end of a sturdy rope and yours to the second, to fix stepping screws and safety cords along your ascent. The motion of the sea had left you less nauseated than this uncertain, upward trek. You envied Criston, who served merely as a grounding weight for the swinging rowboat below.

“Do you see that pointed summit?” Aemond had asked when you finally reached the peak. “‘Tis a volcano. Dragons will often rest at the grassy fields by its base, where it’s warmest.”

When you offered him round, fearful eyes, he chuckled.

“During the daytime,” he added. “At night they’ll seek shelter within the ground. You’ll be safe.”

Thus he had sprinted the opposite way, splitting from you to scatter poison at the very cavernous nesting place of the winged beasts before you could question his surety.

Now, you are beyond ready to leave this somber, humid island. Nothing about it invites you to stay any longer than you absolutely must - not its howling winds, not its steep slopes, and certainly not the looming threat of untamed dragons. You surmise that is what the stronghold of the enemy is supposed to feel like - uninviting. Each second stretches by as you sit on the muddy grass, at the top of a hill, waiting for Aemond to return. You cast a silent prayer for him as your ever-treacherous mind paints pictures of him getting devoured or burnt alive deep within the somber caves of Dragonstone. The thought is one you would have embraced - and even entertained - a few days back, even if deep down you had never wished for his demise. But right now, as the damp chill of the Blackwater is windblown into your bones, you wish for nothing other than his heated touch, his dragonfire.

They don’t astound you any longer - these indecent thoughts that overwhelm you without warning - and you try no longer to escape them or deny their existence. In fact, you delight in their indulgence. You delight in reliving them. The mere remembrance of his lips on yours and his slick tongue slipping between them is enough to protect you from the humid cold.

You spot him when he is halfway up the hill, running towards you, large steps climbing quickly up the slope and braided hair catching the moonlight. You rise to your feet before he meets you. 

What does it mean for you? To have admitted to these feelings? You find nothing is of certainty but your craving for him.

“Sorry it took me so long,” he pants when he finally reaches you.

He goes on to comment on the intricacy of the mazes that are the dragon caves within the hills, but you get yourself trapped in your own musings. The humidity sticks to his skin, gifting him an alluring glow, and a drop of sweat unlatches from the fine hairs that escape his coiffure. Attentively you follow it with your gaze as it rolls down his glistening skin, curving around his jaw to move down his neck. 

It drives you to thirst.

You take too long to look up when he turns back to you, so when you meet his eye it dons already that vehemence you know so well.

Not a single bone in you wishes to inhibit yourself any longer. You had contained your anger before him only to have it explode monumentally. You had stifled your vilest reflections only to exploit the opportunity of physical violence the first chance given. The control over your luscious musings is fast fading. You are exhausted of all the pretense, the weight of duty and honor, the weight of repression.

“Aemond,” you plead, wishing he would simply understand.

You want to lean as he had, lodge your lips on his as he did, and commit him to taste. But you find yourself rooted to the spot, aching, as instinct fights logic, as desire fights morality. Your flesh burns with the urge to throw yourself in his embrace yet it freezes in fear of dishonor.

Against all odds your hand finds his chest, his own fingers clasp onto your elbow. When you think you can finally break through the invisible barrier that restrains your ardors, however, you spot a distinguishable glimmer of silver at the foot of the hill. Aemond turns to look for the source of your distraction.

“Daemon,” he spits.

The Rogue Prince. He approaches like a villain in a novel, stomping leisurely in the night with his Dark Sister in hand. You know him as well as the entire Realm - the proud, callous, viciously barbaric brother of the late Viserys I, now husband to the former heir.

Aemond pulls out his sharp daggers, his disposition starkly contrasting to just seconds ago when he reached for you so softly.

“Aemond,” you hiss, pulling on his arm in vain. “Let us go - we can make it to the boat in time.”

He hesitates to turn and follow you, but when he does comply, Prince Daemon recaptures his attention.

“Nephew!” he roars. “Did little Luke take your stones as well as your eye?”

You lose him in a heartbeat, to a juvenile taunt no less, as he storms down the hillside to meet his uncle. In your desperation, you take your bow to release an arrow against the older Prince, but it merely catches his shoulder. Though he grunts a curse and breaks it off at the root, it does nothing to deter him. As you raise a second arrow, the Princes meet, and you cannot assume the risk of it hitting the wrong one.

So you run.

Aimless, you dart off to where their blades viciously bounce off one another. And then, just before your very eyes, Aemond falls. As Dark Sister rises above him, glinting, you are drained of all warmth.

How would you relay to his mother you had let him perish?

There is no option, naught to do but to protect him. You don’t think as you holler at Daemon the Rogue, nor when you throw your body against his piercing blade. Though the pain of its cut steals your breath, stinging maddeningly where it opens a gruesome gash beneath your collarbones, shoulder to shoulder, you still land a hit so harsh against his jaw that you are unsure whether it breaks his face or your knuckles. You are happy to watch his head hit a rock hidden in the grass before you too hit the ground.

A guttural grunt leaves you as the pain truly registers. Even in your state of shock, its sting immobilizes your arms, its throb hammering, blinding, deafening. And wet. You are quickly drenched in your own blood. You feel it slide between your shirt and your leather tunic, drip down your sides, pool in the hollow of your throat as it gushes and gushes from within you like the mouth of a river.

“You fucking fool,” Aemond snarls above you, quick to tear his undershirt and wrap it tightly around your wound to constrict the blood loss. You have not the strength to bite back. When he notices this, his incensed demeanor turns desperate.

He carries you over to the cliff you had climbed. Tying your body to his, he makes it to the boat. How swiftly this happens, you cannot gauge. You can no longer comprehend the passage of time.

His chest on your back, his scent in your head, the lull of the sea invite you to doze. Absent-mindedly, you hear Aemond urge you to keep your eyes open. But his voice is too sweet. It too tantalizes you to welcome sleep. 

And so you do.

A/N: yay, we're halfway through! I know posting this on a random Wednesday at midnight is a dumb move, but I couldn't hold it any longer...

Taglist in comments.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen fic #hotd fics #hotd fic #aemond targaryen x stark!reader #aemond fanfic #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen x reader fanfic #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x you

[raayllum]

"You can rest now" for Ziaravos?

Ziard is a young mage when he finds him — powerful, patient, otherworldly — wandering in a wood by Elarion. Ziard comes here often to find roots for his spells, checking his traps and snares, adding bones from owl pellets to his necklace (after a good cleaning) for both beauty and practicality.

Aaravos glows. Aaravos grows, showing him magic of every primal, plants swelling under his step, horns glistening in the moonlight.

Ziard comes back day after day to sit at his feet and listen, enraptured by a world of stars and magic and opportunity. He has never been able to tame the primal magic offered to some other mages in the city before and he longs for it just as much as he hungers.

He offers some skinned and cooked rabbit one day, to the mage, but Aaravos refuses; it doesn't seem like he needs to eat (or even to sleep). Not like humans.

"Humans are always hungry," Aaravos says with a chuckle, fingers gliding briefly along Ziard's jaw. His skin shivers with heat. "Come. Lay your head in my lap."

Ziard does so eagerly, chest sighing. Normally he'd be too afraid to do so in these woods, but nothing can hurt him, so long as he is with one of the Great Ones.

Aaravos combs a hand through his increasingly whitening hair. "You can rest now," he coos.

Hours later, Ziard wakes up alone. The spot where Aaravos had sat is cold, and nestled between the dark gnarled roots is a bright, silver staff embedded with a shining purple gemstone.

A tiny note is tucked between the clasps, yellowed parchment torn out of the notebook he carries on him for writing about ingredients.

A gift, it reads in elegant, lofty script. For my favourite mage.

His heart leaps.

(He does not know that he is not the Favourite — merely the first in a long, new line of pawns.)

He picks the staff up, admiring it, the way the smooth metal crafting suits his hand.

(He does not know it is a ploy that will lead to him burned to a crisp, and an angry dragon dethroned—and that, shortly thereafter, Ziard will be at rest. Permanently.)

#tdp aaravos #tdp ziard #ziard #aaravos #pre series #thanks for asking #requests #my fic #fic #ficlet #tdp #the dragon prince #pawns

[chickenmcnuggies]

sometimes I see you on my dash and I'm like "wow these posts are pretty good but I dont remember why I followed this person" and then I load up my dwarf fort with my beloved hippogryphs

YEAAAAH im glad you like them! the hippogriffs and griffons are two of my absolute favorite creatures, so im very biased to them :) (also glad that you can tolerate my other post lol)

i suppose on that topic, it gives me a good excuse to show off the last 6 beast/giant variants going into the mods since i already finished all their sprites.

first up is the stymphalian bird! it's a small bird with feathers composed of bronze. they're docile by nature but are capable of shooting out their metal feathers to attack their predators

...on the other hand there's the giant variant, which is vicious by extension of living in savage lands

speaking of giant variants, there's 5 other ones being added

(griffon, fae dragon, bicorn, warg (it's default sprite was changed and the old sprite repurposed), and chimera)

the other brand new creatures are:

owl bear, a large carnivore with claws capable of slashing through metal. inspired by the cool looking owl bears from baldur's gate 3 that i saw when a friend was streaming the game. can be war trained if tamed

basilisk and mandrake

the basilisk are aggressive carnivores which possess a gaze that can turn their prey to stone, similar to the gorgons. unlike the gorgon's stare though, supposing their victim doesn't die while in statue form, they will return to normal after an in game week (they dont require food/water/breathing while afflicted)

Mandrake are small plant creatures who live rarely in underground lakes, where they 'breed' by planting their seeds in the ground. upon death they drop their seeds which can be planted to make very potent ale. the ale has many beneficial effects, such as helping infection and stress relief, but also has a grocery list of rare (2-10% odds) of triggering multiple ill side effects, such as nausea and sending a person into a fit of rage. made entirely just to make taverns all the more FUN

something i didn't plan to add, but added based on request: a tressym! flying cats from forgotten realms (and also baldur's gate) that i thought looked cool and had interesting enough lore to make a good addition. I only actually finished their sprites earlier tonight, and their raws aren't made yet.

going off what i read about them, they were going to be the same size as a cat, capable of being 4 different colors/coat patters, and immune to poison. it also mentioned them being able to see invisible creatures, so i'd like to play around with them having extra vision/high stats to be able to detect ambushers, tho i'd need to test to make sure they dont completely trivialize it. Was planning to make them like the griffons and wargs, where they have the [PET] token, but not [COMMON_DOMESTIC], so there's a chance for dwarves and humans to tame them in world gen, but they would hopefully be very rare due to their spawn biome (taiga?) and frequency (was thinking around 7%)

last but not least, another mega beast, this time the Undead Dragon! an undead mega beast that's intended to be a similar difficulty to the bronze colossus. it lacks blood, and damaging organs or connections doesn't bother it. It is capable of raising corpses once a day, and breathing a cool breath that makes a target drowsy and nauseous. while it can of course be killed in the usual dwarven solutions (magma, crushing) it can also be killed instantly by being speared in the skull by a spear, or decapitated. it is not capable of flight due to it's body being too rotted.

#answered #modding #dwarf fortress #sorry if the response was much longer than you anticipated! but i realized i haven't shown stuff off in awhile #i did do a bit of balance testing with a fort last month but i haven't been playing df as much lately #i was pretty busy working on the last gay fates update but now that that's done- #the mythical beast update will hopefully be out around next month? idk i like testing pretty extensively #on one hand im not proud of the mandrake sprite on the other hand it's very silly and it charms me #i do think i kinda cooked on the giant sprites tho. im very proud of how they all turned out! #the giant griffon especially bc the regular griffon sprite was the very first one i did #and i still feel i didn't quite capture what i wanted to with it. though i have come to like the normal griffon sprite now

[someone-save-vlad-king]

Common Sense Kings Headcanons

(Angst-free only.)

As a Whole:

"Common Sense" is a lie. They share one braincell and Kan keeps it in the confiscated phones drawer. (He hasn't trusted them since the Incident. No, I will not elaborate.)

They're all great swimmers, except Tsuburaba. The kanji in Awase's name all relate to water — bubbles, rapids, ocean, and snow; Kaibara is definitely the type to use his Quirk as a boost (and it just seems helpful in general); and for Rin, Chinese dragons are associated with water, unlike Western ones. Tsuburaba, meanwhile, is mostly associated with air.

Video game nights usually end in disaster. That's why they mostly play Mario Kart, the least rage-inducing game ever.

Awase:

Sometimes, he Welds together little mixed media sculptures. Metal bits, googly eyes, Rin's scales, that sort of thing. He isn't very good at it, but then, he doesn't have to be. It sparks joy.

Also decent with mechanics. He, Yaoyorozu, and Hatsume would make a great team.

Has a lot of scars from all the dumb shit he's done over the years — and he's proud of every single one of them. Even the dumbest ones. It inadvertently helps some of his friends feel better about their own.

Cheats at origami.

Kaibara:

Loves green tea. This is based on two puns: Sencha (煎茶), the most popular green tea in Japan, and chasen (茶筅), the bamboo whisk used to make matcha. (There are so many puns you can make on the name Sen, it's great.)

The best dancer of the four — or, the only good dancer. The other three suck.

A contortionist in every way except professionally, with no qualms about showing it off. He's got the most fucked-up joints you've ever seen. He can even turn his head around like an owl. Fear him. (Seriously, look up contortionists, they're awesome.)

Tsuburaba:

Has the spice tolerance of a wet chicken nugget. You could kill him with a singular Dorito. The other three refuse to let him live this down.

Obsessed with practical effects in movies and plays. Props, clever set design, you name it. He's even experimented with using his Solid Air for something similar, though he hasn't done it in a while. In a movie production AU, he'd definitely be in charge of that.

When Kan doesn't have it, Tsuburaba holds the braincell. He's objectively a terrible choice, yes, but process of elimination rules. And yes, this is because of the Incident.

Rin:

Many thoughts, head still empty for some reason.

His favorite animal is the koi fish.

Almost won the class representative election purely by promising to teach the class Mandarin swear words. Kan was not happy.

Can and will make up a bullshit idiom. What are you gonna do about it? Fact-check him? Take your phone out and Google it? In front of the teacher?

#headcanons #mine #class 1b #class 1-b #common sense kings #awase yosetsu #kaibara sen #tsuburaba kosei #rin hiryu #on another note tsuburaba's costume should've been an embellished flight suit

[vigilskeep]

a while back there was mention of dragon age daemon au but i don't remember, did you share your daemon headcanons?

for a very simple au i think that everyone has a daemon except dwarves, who don’t because they don’t have a connection to the fade (sorry guys :( it just makes sense in my heart they can have cool other stuff) and mages’ daemons can do stuff thats creepy to everyone else like witches in hdm. i actually think it would be fun if only mages’ daemons could talk or smth like that. obviously “severing” from your daemon is equivalent to being made tranquil

umm for a more layered au that ties it more deeply into da lore it would be fun to tie it more deeply into the da concept of spirits and demons. like everyone has a spirit but it can transform into a demon; chantry lore says that this is when there’s evil in your heart, but really it can also just be when you need a protector. or something like that. templar lyrium probably cuts them off from their spirits in some way which is part of why it does damage. when you templar silence a mage’s powers it deafens their connection to their spirit.

anyway onto the more important things, morrigan has a wolf (looks cool and tough as hell, actually should have a pack). to keep symbolism going with that pair i want to give alistair a sheep which he’s kind of embarrassed abt but it’s like one of the cool ones with sick horns that has soft wool AND could totally gore someone to death if it felt like it. velanna has um a porcupine. fenris has a white tiger and anders has a fox and he’s not saying he’s mad abt the canine feline assignment but yeah he IS mad abt it actually and HE thinks that— anyway anders’ might turn into something else bc of justice? or it’s already justice and “becomes” a different vengeance (affectionate) form during da2? merrill has something she thinks is boring but is actually kind of metal and also still cute like a little bird that traditionally migrates insanely long distances or like uhhh a poisonous newt. dorian has that cool monkey from the concept art or smth. leliana has an owl she wishes was a songbird. solas um has some kind of spirit he’s buddies with that’s pretending to be his spirit so he can cover up for not having one because it was Different somehow in his day, and possibly the spirit is cole idk just throwing that out there. cassandra has a shy little daemon she blushes furiously abt bc she thinks it’s too small and it hides in her armour. sera has a dragonfly. that’s what i have for u

[mistrall-art]

-- B A S I C S

name: annabel charlotte rayen løckhart nicknames: anna, juno age: 18 in PS, 29 in SotO birthday: 355th colossus (december 21st) race: krytan human gender: female (she/her) orientation: bisexual profession: order of whispers lightbringer, commander, dragon champion, (she's still stuck in pof :')

-- P H Y S I C A L A S P E C T S

hair: mahogany brown eyes: amber skin: russet brown tattoos/scars: half sleeve tattoo of a snake with flowers on her left arm; left cheekbone scar from risen charr, scar from balthazar across her neck and throat, self inflicted scars across her lower arms.

-- F A M I L Y

parents: richard j.e. løckhart, (i forgot her name!) -løckhart siblings: mireille c.m. løckhart grandparents: grandparents (deceased) in laws and others: reagan callaghan (girlfriend) ; Anna considers everyone in DW part of her family pets: dismarq (a shadow fiend in the shape of a cat), snowy (snow leopard cub), snow owl (again forgot name, but sadly died in HoT), griffon cub

-- S K I L L S

abilities: necromancer (specialises in curses and death magic) hobbies: playing the violin, learning languages, strategy, puzzle solving, singing, baking, reading, working out

-- T R A I T S

most positive traits: ambitious, charismatic, protective, goal oriented, confident in own abilities, kind, efficient most negative traits: goal oriented, stubborn, 'ends justify the means' mentality, ruthlessly efficient, jealous, liar

-- L I K E S

colors: blue & black smells: sea, burning hearth, home textures: marble, smooth wood, metal drinks: tea, warm chocolate milk, fruit drinks

-- O T H E R D E T A I L S

smokes: sometimes, but is trying to quit drinks: only during parties drugs: no been arrested: yes

Thanks for the tag @i-mybrunettelady

Tagging: @commander-wame @kerra-and-company @mystery-salad (and anyone who'd like to do this <3)

#gw2 #mistocs: juno #tw self harm #(<- only very briefly mentioned) #i had to look for notes from a decade ago to find her parents' names XD and still only found one #i'll edit this if i find the rest :'D