This blog is being moved. IM for the new URL

This blog is being moved. IM for the new URL

This blog is being moved. IM for the new URL

me, remembering the incredibly in-depth DA verses i have for jörmungandr and zack: o shit, i should probably do something with those

the seven deadly sins have one brain cell between them and it’s merlin’s.

mateo tag drop

yveltal and trinket tag drop

baldr and adonis tag drop

starter call for the underused muses! these are muses i’ve written very little on (or nothing at all in some cases) and i’m here to change that. So like this for a starter from one of the following:

Mythology Garmr, Týr, Baldr, Adonis, Bái Hǔ

Yu-Gi-Oh! Red Eyes Black Dragon, Protector with Eyes of Blue, E. Hero Avian, Ccarayhua, Ccapac Apu, Cusillu, Uru, Wiraqocha Rasca, Yuraq Allqu, Geo Gryphon, Power Tool Dragon, Life Stream Dragon, Blackfeather Dragon, Bluefeather Dragon, Sirocco the Dawn, Gale the Swift Wind, Kalut the Moonshadow, Galaxy Eyes Photon Dragon

RWBY Bahadur Kishan, Ghira Belladonna, Rohen Belladonna, Sabre Grimlock

Warcraft Kalecgos, Zerriakstrasz

Misc Deadshot, H2-22, Ban the Fox Sin, Lion-O, Kier, Jacob, Trinket (Critical Role)

Overwatch Genji Shimada, Hanzo Shimada

Marvel Tiger, Torhild, Pietro Maximoff, Eddie Brock, Peter Parker (Insomniac)

Zelda Farosh, Link

Pokemon Giratina, Dialga, Solgaleo, Zekrom, Kyurem, Yveltal, Latios

Bakugan Alpha Hydranoid, Exedra

Final Fantasy Drago, Ifrit

Marcello Alvarez

Raven + Maiden’s badass fiery glowing eyes

weightpulled‌:

 ( @lunyrd ;  bái hǔ )

“   now now, don’t get too ahead of yourself there honey. “ He is always quiet, always more observant than talkative. But then, he’s something different in his own way. Out of the two of them, she’s more animated, more chaotic visibly.                       “  you get too handsy and I might just take them off ya. “

“Mm, my apologies.” Words cold and short fell from the spirit, arms coming to fold themselves across his chest. Not protectively, as some would erroneously assume, but perhaps a simple challenge. She was welcome enough to try, but she would find the White Tiger a most worthy adversary. “I see your warlike spirit burns today.”

The winds of winter were hard and cold, and the dragon loathed them all. Though both he and Viserion had grown wild and angry in the dark, trapped in chains beneath the Pyramids for a crime not their own, that rage paled now to raw fury felt at Winterfell, at the Starks, at the Night King and his armies. To their mother was the dragons’ loyalties, to she who had borne them into the flames and paid life with death, holding them against her breast as though they were her own flesh, her own blood, not the brooding would-be king and his frozen throne. To Daenerys was the dragons’ loyalties, and yet Viserion had paid for that loyalty with blood, and fire, and the crash of ice against his corpse.

Viserion had died for Jon Snow to live, and Rhaegal could not forgive the Starks for that.

It was not their fault for true. The one with hair of flame and eyes of ice had not been present beyond the Wall when his brother fell, and the strange child, forever seated, who spoke in tongues not his own and knew the dragons’ thoughts for his, had been in Winterfell and not, far away and present, but Rhaegal hated them truly. For their brother, his had died, and now his mother had joined with the murderous winter storm against the night.

A soft murmur, near buried in the wind, wrestled Rhaegal’s attention from his vicious rage. Mouse-like, a child stepped forward, and though awe curtailed her footsteps, the dragon found no pride in that, no urge to preen and make bright the pretty green scales of his hide. She was a child of winter, of snow and sleet and murder, and so she was cast in with the bloody hands of her brother.

Vicious jaws snapped, black teeth contrasting terribly against the too-white snows, closing against empty air and cold; a snarl rumbled in the depths of the green’s throat, a harsh warning for those with sense enough to mark it. Fire spat from his maw, a short burst of orange and red lanced with green that sputtered against the snow scant inches ahead of her outstretched hand. The dragon’s head roiled then, seeming to glare down at the winter’s pup; bronze eyes filled with rage and grief, pupils narrowed to slits. No further.

@murios / continued from 

nowthorn‌:

❛    hey ,    ❜    a hushed tone.  bag rustles ,  dual silver’s looking to the person closest to her.    ❛    are dogs against the rules here ?    ❜

* 🌙 — open !

“I won’t tell if you won’t.” A cheeky glint fostered in the faunus’ eyes, followed by a covert wink. “What they don’t know won’t hurt them.”

Nero vc: mommy Palkia I love you :) More than my deadbeat of a father can even begin to imagine :))))

Slowly, a loving smile dawned across the space creator’s face. Though she was thought hard, something cold and unloving next to the open heart of Dialga and the violent heat of Giratina’s fury, Nero had undone something in her from the moment of his birth. A love she never thought herself capable of feeling had dawned, and from there she had sworn to always stand by this tiny star, with a shock of snow-white hair and tiny fists waving as she held him in her grasp.

Even now, when her star was an adult grown, looming over her facade’s form with lanky limb and cheeky smile, that same love still still burned. Her hand reached up, still seeking to curl the wild fluff, however cut short, of his hair behind his ear, then trailed down to rest on his cheek.

“I know, my son. I despise him too.”