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artzychic27 · 11 months

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More Addams Class Stuff (Mainly quotes, some original and some from the show)

Zoé: It’s the day your entire family gathers around you and judges your worth as a human being!… I hear it’s like Thanksgiving.

—

Mme. Bustier: Demeter, care to explain to me why I caught Marc trying to stab Nathaniel?

Mme. Mendeleiv: Near the heart?

Mme. Bustier: … Yes?

Mme. Mendeleiv: Oh, Marc’s just in love. Once, he told me he wanted to bite his head off like a female spider during mating season.

Mme. Bustier: And you’re not sending him to therapy?

Mme. Mendeleiv: Well, if he gives him a bouquet of roses, we’ll see.

—

Simon: *About Denise* I would die for them. I would kill for them. Either way, what bliss.

—

Simon: When we first met years ago, it was an evening much like this. Magic in the air. An enby.

Denise: A demiboy.

Simon: An open grave. It was my first funeral.

Denise: You were so beautiful. Pale and mysterious. No one even looked at the corpse.

—

Denise and Simon are the Gomez and Morticia of the class

Whenever Denise speaks Spanish, Simon will drop whatever he’s doing and rush to kiss up and down their arm

Simon may or may not have ordered a couples’ coffin for the two of them

Yes, they met at a funeral. When they were nine, Simon snuck out of his room in the dead of night and Denise was just walking through the rain when they came across the service and they found each other

—

Austin T: What if you met someone who would worship and be your eternal love slave?

Jean: I’d pity them.

—

Marinette: *About Zoé* She’s a black widow!

Kim: We are all in the tastefully decorated bedroom… Of a killer!

*Dramatic sting*

Adrien: It is tastefully decorated.

Kim: Eh, it’s okay.

—

Zoé: So, I killed! So, I maimed! So, I slaughtered every girl I’ve been in a relationship with! Don’t I deserve love? And happiness?… And jewelry?!

Reshma: Aw, of course, you do.

*The Science Kids all hug her*

Ismael: Everyone deserves those things, especially the jewelry.

—

Cosette is praying for the day Zoé attempts to kill them. They’re hoping for cyanide poisoning

It’s actually on her bucket list to be offed by a black widow, along with going to the Bermuda Triangle, getting struck by lighting twice, getting bitten by a black mamba, and skydiving without a parachute into shark infested waters

It’ll be hard to kill Cosette though. Its’ organs come out very easily all the time

One time on Valentine’s Day, Cosette left their heart in Zoé’s backpack and in return, got a hatchet to the back. She loves them!

—

Reshma: This day is looking bleak. All joy will be drained from this very room and children will be left in agony for hours on end, praying for Death’s cool hand to save them.

Alya: Was that a prediction?

Reshma: No, exams are today.

—

Nathaniel: *After kissing Marc, he immediately starts coughing* I think something crawled in my mouth!

Marc: Oh, I think that was Eliza. I hope she finished laying her eggs.

Nathaniel: Wh-what?!

Marc: Yeah, she was going to lay them in me this morning, but she seemed a little shy about it. Well, if you feel a sudden weight in your chest, she probably laid them.

—

Nathaniel would be terrified if Marc weren’t so damn beautiful

Nathaniel would die for him, he’d walk across coals for him, he’d take a dagger to the heart, allow Marc to eat his head like a female spider during mating season

In short… Nathaniel’s crazy about him

They met when Nathaniel was sketching one day in a dark corner of the school and Marc was hiding in the shadows, writing Nathaniel’s eulogy

—

Ismael: Mme. Mendeleiev, it was terrible! He killed them!

Mme. Mendeleiev: Caline’s students?

Ismael: The dragon!

Mme. Mendeleiev: What dragon? Who killed a dragon?

Ismael: A knight in shining armor, he killed the dragon.

Mme. Mendeleiev: I can't believe anyone would kill a dragon.

—

Demeter doesn’t really approve of the books Caline has both their students read

They’re filled with unnecessary violence and other terrible things- Children murdering old women, corrupt royals slaying dragons, and strange older men kissing younger women

She’d rather have them read the works of Edgar Allen Poe and maybe a few books by Stephen King

Mireille sometimes accidentally summons one of the ghosts possessing Lacey, and she will just end up wherever Mireille has her seance set

Mireille may or may not be trying to raise an army of the dead to do her bidding… And you can’t prove it, either

After school, the students like to hang out at an old funeral home, which, thankfully still has an intact embalming room

Aurore makes sure to leave a rain cloud pouring over the funeral home 24/7

—

Jean: Austin...

Austin T: Yes, raven?

Jean: Last night, you were unhinged. You were like some desperate howling demon. You frightened me… Do it again.

Austin Tomassian fell for Jean the moment he walked out of a burning building, looking so elegant amongst the screaming crowd trying to escape

He fell again… Literally. He fell into a sinkhole. When Jean walked by, one just opened up out of nowhere

Jean eventually caught feelings when there was an accident in wood shop class and Austin T got cut right in the finger crotch. There was a so much blood, and Jean was smitten that day

—

Mme. Mendeleiev: Class… Why do you hate Zoé?

Reshma: We don’t hate her. We just want to hang out with her.

Simon: Especially her head.

Mme. Mendeleiv: Do you think I like Zoé more than all of you?

Science Kids: Yes.

Mme. Mendeleiev: And do you think that when a new student comes along, one of you has to die?

Science Kids: … Yes.

Ironically, Simon has good dreams at night. He barely gets any sleep because of them

—

M. Monlataing: What are you doing?

Cosette/Ismael: *Hiding makeshift mines behind their bqcks* Nothing!

M. Monlataing: Oh, I don’t think so. *Hands them a bag of explosives* If you want to make a proper mine, use this.

Cosette/Ismael: Thanks, M. Monlataing! *Run off*

M. Monlataing: What are they teaching these kids today? Not knowing the proper methods to make an explosive.

M. Monlataing fully supports the students

And in response, they don’t try do blow him up every day… Only every other day

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous #nathaniel kurtzberg #marc anciel #aurore boréale #mireille caquet #Zoé Lee #Jean duparc #mlb au #Addams family #Addams class

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asumofwords · 11 months

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I've got a bunch of questions that are completely unrelated and highly irrelevant to the current plotline in the fic but I like to wonder cause this story is currently my favorite right now and I like imagining "what's if" and "how's" like genuinely, your writing has me hooked! 💞

Do you think daemon relates himself to aemond a little bit? like does he see his younger self in him?

they're similar but also contrasting as well, they both are the second sons, wanted the throne, were actually well fit for it but never got it, extremely chaotic as well and #NieceLovers too, in earlier chapters daemon had told his daughter like "be careful around aemond, cause I know that look he's giving you rn, I used to look at your mother the same way" but obvs daemon didn't commit half of the atrocities with rhaenyra which aemond had done to the reader.

How would sf&a!aemond be as a girl!dad??

I'm sorry but like imagining this aemond as a girl dad is genuinely so funny and an interesting concept, I know this mf has preference for male heirs (because canon typical misogyny rooted heir selection method), but like just imagine? let's pretend he has few kids with the reader and they only have one daughter, I just know this mf will definitely have a soft spot for his daughter.

How would aemond react if the reader was crowned queen?

like he could still be her husband therefore making him king consort, would he be proud? would he be mad? cause he wanted to be king, would he be horny (let's be honest this mf will take pride in knowing that the powerful queen is completely helpless beneath him, he's fucked up bro) but like yeah.

One can call this the questionnaire of absolute buffoonery a time waste but also delusional too cause I have way too much time on my hands, but hey we need silly little off topic asks like this from time to time to get rid of the tension that's been building up in the story in order to lighten up the mood haha 😂😂

*cracks fingers* alright let’s get into this

Do you think Daemon related to Aemond a little bit?

I think Daemon sees certain parts of himself in Aemond with the second son aspect. He also absolutely sees the reflection of pining after someone that you shouldn’t! He also sees his dedication to tradition and Targaryen customs, which Daemon is a staunch believer of! But Aemond is also starkly different to Daemon as well!!

How would S,F&A!Aemond be as a girl!dad ?

If the reader was to only have a girl, Aemond would be her biggest defender besides the reader of course. He would also dote on her completely, spoiling her rotten and giving her anything she asks for without question. He would ensure she had a dragon egg in her crib and would teach her Valyrian customs and language at night, sitting her on his lap as he rocked her back and fourth. Aemond would be the father that he wished he had.

He would learn to braid her hair elaborately and do it every day 😭 he would read to her under the Godswood

How would Aemond react if reader was crowned?

Aemond would be proud. He would be horny. He would be ecstatic. His zaldristos sitting on the throne, wearing the conquerors crown ? Man would be stiff as a rock and would not be able to take his hands off of her. He would have her ride him on the Iron Throne, and even though he was King Consort, he was still King.

Aemond would slay anyone who dared to question her rule, dared to whisper anything of rejection or dismissal. Aemond would torch thousands to keep her seated on that throne.

Our man is a SIMP.

Thanks so much for sending this in omg I LOVED IT! 🖤🖤🖤

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kradogsrats · 2 years

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Ghost (Fic)

a.k.a. “Rayla Enters the Bodyswap AU and is Not Having a Good Time, also Maybe the Actual Plot Starts?”

Quick recap of the AU situation, since it’s getting hefty:

Harrow agreed to the soulfang body switch with Viren

Viren died the way he lived: like a gigantic drama queen (also the primal stone was destroyed)

Callum and Rayla didn’t meet, and Ezran didn’t find the egg

Claudia is now High Mage, and has secret possession of the egg, a cautious rapport with Aaravos, and Callum as a recently-acquired apprentice

Harrow, meanwhile, has a lot of feelings and is following them toward peace with Xadia

—

Claudia learned a great deal about Moonshadow elves, after… after. When they first returned to the castle, she spent days picking through the wreckage of the tower, working under the nervous watch of guards worried over the structural integrity of burnt support beams. She had collected and examined the warped and melted weapons and the remains of fine leather armor. She had found the five unblemished, moon-white cords still looped around charred bones—one per corpse.

It wasn’t enough, so she read everything she could get her hands on, then sent birds to Evenere and Duren for more. She read about their assassins’ methods—near-invisibility beneath the full moon, unique weapons and combat styles that harmonized in pairs but disrupted any organized defense. She read about the sacred oath they made to slay their target, and the way they were bound to it.

The five white cords in her father’s—her workroom, resistant to every cutting tool and spell for severing she had tried, meant two things: the assassins’ task had been left undone, and there was someone out there who might come back to finish it. Claudia would be ready for them.

It was still almost purely luck that she caught the girl.

She had taken to walking the ramparts of the castle’s curtain wall after dark, hoping the air would clear her head after hours spent in High Council meetings, followed by more hours going over spellwork basics with Callum in the upper workroom, followed by even more hours down in her father’s sanctum with Aaravos. Up before dawn and awake until well after dusk, sometimes she couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen the sun.

She was especially agitated that night. Aaravos had greeted her earlier with a gift—the caterpillar-like creature he spoke through had spun from its silk a thin disc, about the size of Claudia’s palm, feather-light but solid. A lens, for you to see clearly things that might otherwise go unnoticed, Aaravos had said, with his ever-present half-smile. The threads of silk were less dense toward the disc’s center, allowing her to peer through it—though tilting it slightly in her hand shifted the spaces from translucent to a disorienting void-black. Held before her face, she could see the room as if through watery glass, colors dimmed and details smudged. Everything was dulled save for the frame of the mirror—each raised rune along its border blazed with a different color, shifting and weaving in a rainbow of light.

Claudia was young, but she was not a fool. A being like Aaravos only gave gifts because he would expect something in return, sooner or later. His attitude of benevolent service was a clear ruse, an attempt to trick her into stacking up favors he would one day call in. She had no idea what Aaravos wanted, from her or otherwise, and no sure way to find out short of walking straight into his arms. But she had taken the lens.

Later in the afternoon, she had experimented a bit more with it—the more concentrated reagents in the workroom shimmered with threads of color, her father’s staff glowed with a pulsing iridescence of purples. She wanted badly to see what it could expose of the dragon egg, but reluctantly held off on that exploration. She knew Aaravos’s little minion could listen for him as well as speak, so it stood to reason that anything she saw through the lens would be revealed to him, as well. She’d have to get a pouch for it, to keep away prying eyes on both ends.

She had just stepped out onto the east wall from the corner watchtower, lost in thoughts about lenses and secrets and inscrutable elves when she felt… something. An odd prickle on the back of her neck, like the subconscious awareness that an object in a cluttered room had been moved when it should not have been. It was a feeling she associated with the presence of unknown magic. The long stretch of battlements ahead of her was deserted, without even a guard in sight.

Her hand went to her satchel, and closed around the lens. She drew it out slowly, then held it up and turned it this way and that, as if examining its details in the moonlight. The shifting angle let her glance through it to scan the rampart walkway ahead of her. In the dimmed image of the lens, she saw the bright silver outline of a slim figure crouched in the shadow of a merlon. A slim figure with a drawn sword.

Claudia panicked. Her hand shot out, the double-serpent bracelet unwinding on command to ensnare her attacker. The figure deflected the first strike with their sword and a clash of metal, and avoided the second with an acrobatic dodge that carried them out of the narrow field Claudia could see through the lens. She whirled, trying to track the attacker, her hand darting into her satchel again for the clay vials kept within easy reach near the top. She snatched one out and crushed it in her fist in the same motion, scattering the mixture of powdered slowusk shell and the ashes of several sleep-inducing plants inside it in a broad arc through the air as the matching incantation rolled off her tongue.

The expanding cloud glowed violet, brightening and throwing off sparks where its effects were strongest. Claudia peered into it, one hand still clutching the lens, the other back in her satchel ready to grab another vial.

A shadowy figure slowly appeared out of the spell-cloud, staggering toward her unsteadily. The sword slipped from their dangling hand and clattered on the rampart’s stones. Another step, and they fell to their knees, struggling to remain upright. The blurred shadows of the figure resolved into sudden clarity as they swayed, and Claudia caught a glimpse of a pale, feminine face before they finally, finally collapsed and lay still.

Claudia sat down hard where she was, her limbs boneless and trembling. Her heart was pounding, and she struggled to slow her breathing back to a normal rate. She still clutched the lens tight to her chest—it had saved her life, for sure.

When she felt like she could move again, she tucked the lens away and forced herself to crawl to the limp, face-down form. The sleeping spell was a potent one, but she hadn’t used it often, and had no idea how much time it would last. An hour? Less? Even if it was more, it was best to work quickly.

The slender horns poking out from bone-white hair confirmed the attacker as a Moonshadow elf, if their invisibility beneath the full moon had left any doubt. Claudia gingerly rolled them over. A girl—thirteen, or maybe fourteen years old? Her dirt-smudged face was still slightly rounded by childhood, despite a leanness from clearly having missed more than a few recent meals. But elves were frequently smaller and more delicate than humans, as well as being longer-lived, so ages were hard to gauge. Her hair was hacked short and ragged around her pointed ears, as if cut inexpertly with a blade not meant for the task. The dark-colored, flexible armor she wore was finely-made but dirty, and worn to the point of threadbare in the spaces between the leather. The overall impression was of someone who’d spent months living alone in the wild.

Her face, even slack with sleep, was somehow mournful—a faint downturn to the corners of her mouth, a barely-there crease between her white brows. The moonlight on her long, pale eyelashes cast delicate shadows across the deep purple markings that slashed down her cheekbones like tears. She was pretty, beneath the rough trappings—if you were the type to be into elves.

Claudia blinked, surprised at how far her mind had wandered. She was suddenly tired, the adrenaline having drained from her veins and left her with heavy limbs and a clouded mind. She should check the prisoner for weapons and find a way to restrain her, then see if she could summon a guard.

She patted her hands down the elf’s sides, feeling for hard lumps that could be hidden knives. It was only when the back of her hand brushed against rough, crusted cloth that she finally noticed the stained bandages wrapping the stump at the end of the girl’s left arm. Claudia gently peeled them back to reveal a wound that was congruent with the rest of the girl’s appearance—which was to say, not looking all that great. However the elf had been living recently hadn’t done its healing any favors.

She replaced the bandage and checked the rest of the girl’s limbs—all other extremities were present in the expected numbers, with no hidden blades save for the one tucked away at the small of her back. It was identical to the one she had wielded, the two obviously meant to be used in concert. The craftsmanship was exquisite, a complex series of joints allowing them to presumably fold and lock into different configurations—not dissimilar from her father’s staff.

Inventory of her prisoner taken, Claudia paused to considered her options. If she called for the guards, the elf would be taken to the castle’s main dungeon and questioned by the Crownguard, then members of the High Council, and eventually King Harrow himself.

Her mind filled with dismay at the thought. Harrow. Harrow would pardon her.

Even though the Moonshadow elf was almost certainly one of the assassins whose mission was why Claudia’s father was dead, King Harrow would let her go. He’d look at this skinny, maimed wretch, so near to the age of his own children, and he would spare her any justice at all. He would probably even hand her right back to Xadia in peace.

Or… Claudia could take her. Keep her contained and figure out what to do with her later.

It was almost definitely some form of treason. But so was concealing possession of the Dragon King’s living egg, and probably also consorting in secret with an elf of mysterious motivations sealed behind a mirror. And as with both of those situations, she just needed a little time. It was her responsibility to fully appraise all the possibilities, not rush into the first course of action that presented itself. When she knew what she was dealing with, she’d bring it to the right people.

She looked around, worrying at her bottom lip with her teeth. If there was any evidence of the elf’s passage, she needed to find it. The eastern rampart was still deserted, but even at this late—or early—hour, there should have been at least one guard somewhere along it’s length.

She found him twenty paces or so further along the walkway, covered by one of the banners that usually hung down the wall’s face. His throat had been cut. She gently closed his staring eyes, shuddering. He must have died only moments before she had stepped out onto the wall. If she’d been more alert, if she hadn’t lingered, then maybe—

She shook the thought away and forced herself to look critically at the body. If she wanted to keep her prisoner secret, she’d have to do something about him. She reached into her satchel, searching for one of the basic reagents used to close a cut. The spell wouldn’t have saved him—it was meant to soothe the scrapes of everyday life, not mend a mortal wound—but it might be enough to hide what killed him.

The flesh of the guard’s throat knit together reluctantly, and Claudia was shaking with exhaustion when she ended the spell. She’d cast it on Soren dozens of times over the years, and it had never been so difficult—apparently it didn’t work as well on corpses. She half-rolled, half-dragged the body to the edge of the wall, then managed to shove him up over the lip of parapet in one of the embrasures. The plates of his armor scraped loudly on the stone, and she paused anxiously to look around again.

Still nothing. She didn’t know when the guards changed shifts or positions—it had never been important, before. Hopefully she had at least a few more minutes.

She looked down at the body one last time. “I’m sorry,” she said. The words sounded absurd even to her, but she felt like she had to say something. “I… hope you find peace.” Then she tipped the corpse the rest of the way over the parapet and down the long, rocky cliff to the river below.

She sighed and looked back to the sleeping elf. Her prisoner was much smaller, and not wearing plate armor, but it was still going to be a trial for Claudia to get her all the way from the top of the castle wall to her father’s—her study, not to mention through the painting passageway and down below the catacombs to the waiting cells.

She wrapped the girl in the same banner that had concealed the dead guard, and began the long, slow process of dragging her to their destination.

—

The sleep spell was fortunately more potent than Claudia had feared. It was just after dawn when the Moonshadow girl to returned to consciousness, and Claudia had been waiting for hours.

She had hesitated over how to best restrain the elf—the chains in the cell were meant to keep a prisoner’s arms extended above their head and twisted in a way that made standing difficult, but they also operated on the usually-reasonable assumption that said prisoner had two present and functional hands. There was no way to clamp the iron ring to the elf’s stump-ended arm without it sliding right off, so she settled for chaining her good wrist, then tightly swaddling the other arm across her chest with the banner, almost as if it was being immobilized for healing. A touch of magic knit the ends of the cloth together seamlessly and far more securely than any knot. Finally, she bound the elf’s knees and ankles together—presumably an assassin would be as deadly with her legs as with her arms, and Claudia was taking no chances. There would be no one to help her if things went badly.

The elf began to struggle against her bonds immediately when she woke. Claudia watched surreptitiously through the cell door’s tiny window for a while, until her prisoner seemed to have exhausted herself. Satisfied that the restraints would hold, she sent a message to the High Council, pleading illness to excuse herself from that morning’s meeting, another to Callum dismissing him from their afternoon lesson, and a third to the kitchens with the request that breakfast be sent to her study. Then she settled in for a nap.

She awoke mid-morning, refreshed enough that a mug of hot brown morning potion could take her the rest of the way to feeling like a human being again, at least for a few hours. The breakfast tray she retrieved from the study was simple fare—bread and honey, some fresh fruit, a carafe of water. The castle cooks had learned long ago that any food sent to the High Mage’s workrooms had best keep for hours, because the chances of it being eaten immediately were slim.

She took care to smooth her rumpled dress and straighten her hair before entering the cell. An immaculate appearance had been one of her father’s many armors, demanding the respect he was due, and Claudia was learning why in her ongoing struggles with the Council. The effort here would probably be wasted on a disheveled, wounded elf—but it did make her feel a bit more confident. She took a deep breath and opened the door.

The elf-girl sat slumped where she was chained to the stone wall, exhibiting every signal of resigned defeat—but Claudia had more than a passing familiarity with approaching cornered animals. Everything was at its most dangerous when it had nothing to lose. Staying well back from reach, she crouched to put herself at eye level with her prisoner. She set the tray on the floor beside her, then folded her arms over her knees and rested her chin on them.

“So, you’re the last assassin,” she said. “Tell me how you escaped, that night.”

It wasn’t a guess, really—all the pieces fit. The shape and details of the girl’s elaborate twin short swords, a perfect match with the twisted remains of the other assassins’ weapons. The white cord Claudia had discovered knotted to one blade’s hilt. The ugly, swollen stump of her left wrist.

The elf didn’t look at her. Didn’t even move.

“Why were you even with them?” Claudia pressed. “You’re practically a child.”

Pale violet eyes flicked abruptly to hers. “Don’t call me a child,“ her prisoner said, with acid below her exhaustion. “You’re barely older than I am. You sound ridiculous.”

“Sorry, this is my first interrogation,” Claudia replied innocently. “What should I call you, then? Do you have a name?”

The elf hesitated. Something shifted behind her eyes, and her shoulders drooped, just a little. “No. I’m no one. Just a ghost.”

“What if I call you ‘Ghost,’ then?” Claudia suggested. “My name is Claudia, by the way.”

The elf—Ghost, Claudia decided for her—rolled her eyes and didn’t respond.

“Well, you must be hungry. I’m always ravenous coming out of a sleep spell. You won’t bite if I feed you, right?” Claudia tore a chunk off the loaf of bread on the tray and held it out.

Aaravos had laughed when she asked him what her prisoner would eat. The same as you do, he’d said. Moonshadow elves drink no more blood than Dark mages.

Ghost fixed her with a look that would have been withering, had it not been undercut by a clearly audible gurgle from her own stomach.

Claudia bit into the chunk of bread herself. “It’s fine, see? Fresh. Hardly any poison.” She tore off another chunk, and lifted the spoon from the pot of honey to top it with a thick, golden drizzle. Ghost’s eyes followed the movement.

She held out the honeyed bread, and Ghost shifted, leaning toward it slightly. Claudia scooted forward enough to tip the bread into her waiting mouth and hear the shuddering sigh as she chewed. “More?” she offered.

Ghost eyed her sidelong, evaluating. “Water?” she asked tentatively.

Claudia nodded and filled a cup from the carafe. She held it to Ghost’s lips, tilting it as she drank greedily. Ghost deigned to eat more of the bread after that, and even a few slices from the apple Claudia slowly peeled.

“What do you want?” she finally asked.

Claudia popped an apple slice in her own mouth. “Tell me how you escaped the tower.”

“Why? Does it matter?”

“Not really.” Claudia picked up a napkin and wiped the knife she’d used to peel and slice the fruit. “I’m just curious.”

Ghost’s eyes slid away from her. “No one escaped. I… wasn’t there.”

Claudia remembered pacing her father’s study, the anxious obedience of waiting for him as his message had instructed. How her eyes had suddenly fallen on the staff where it leaned against the desk—the staff he never went without.

“I understand,” she murmured.

Ghost said nothing, still looking away.

Claudia brushed the crumbs off her lap. “I think that’s enough, for now,” she said, standing and collecting the tray. “I’ll be back later.”

Ghost snorted. “I’ll be here, I suppose.”

—

They carried on like that for most of a week. Claudia didn’t have much in the way of questions—Ghost couldn’t tell her anything useful about the Dragon Queen or major players of Xadia, and Aaravos’s name meant nothing to her. She was simply too young, too junior, and too isolated to know anything.

Nonetheless, Claudia was beginning to feel the growing shape of a plan.

She pretended not to notice as the stump of Ghost’s wrist slowly swelled and reddened. It was clearly getting worse, though Claudia hadn’t examined the wound closely since her cursory look that first night, up on the wall. Ghost, for her part, expressed no pain but grew increasingly listless, eating less and fading more often into troubled sleep.

On the eighth day, Claudia prepared a bowl of water and a stack of clean cloths before opening the cell. She’d borrowed a roll of fresh bandages from the guardhouse infirmary, and had reagents for a variety of healing spells on hand in case things got truly dire.

Ghost was pale—the dark markings framing her cheeks even more livid than usual—and sweating, her body racked with tremors. Her left arm was swollen to the elbow, now; the skin reddened and hot to the touch. She offered no objection to the old bandages being peeled away.

In the better light, Claudia could see that the original wound had been cauterized, but poorly. Most likely Ghost had heated one of her blades and done it herself. If half of what Claudia had read about the Moonshadow bindings was correct, she had probably severed the hand herself, as well. Better to lose it as cleanly as possible than let it rot while still attached and poison the blood.

“That’s infected again,” Claudia said, nodding at it. “Will you let me tend to it?”

Ghost’s eyes were glassy with fever, but still focused on her in a glare. “Why?” she demanded. “What is it you really want, anyway? Revenge for your king? Then why not just let me die?”

Claudia couldn’t help herself—she laughed, long and hard. “Oh, Ghost,” she said when she could breathe again, settling back on her heels to wipe her eyes. “King Harrow is alive.”

“No. That’s impossible.” Ghost stared at her, mouth parted and trembling. “The binding for him released. It released.”

So there were two targets. Claudia filed that away in her mind for later.

“My father pulled out the king’s spirit with Dark magic, and took his body,” she explained, still smiling. It felt good to say the words to what was possibly the one person who might be even more hurt by them than she was, herself. “That’s who your assassin friends killed in the tower. They all died for nothing.”

“I—I don’t believe you.”

Claudia shrugged. “Why should I lie? If it wasn’t true, Dad would be the one here talking to you.”

“As to what I want—well, I think we may be able to help each other, eventually. So for now, you’re more useful to me alive than dead. Though you’d still be plenty useful, dead.”

She paused for a moment to let that sink in, then continued, keeping her voice casual. “Those horns? Ground up, Moonshadow elf horns work one of the most potent sleeping spells ever known. And elf ears of any type have a whole list of uses—they’re harder to come by this far west, so I’ve never gotten to try most of them. But the real prize from you would be an eye. They’re worth a fortune. I’ve read that a properly-preserved Moonshadow eye can be used to pierce even the strongest illusion.”

“I’m sure even your bones have a use, and your skin, if it’s tanned right. I don’t know about all your guts—I’d have to check Dad’s notes and see if he ever got his hands on one of your kind. I might have to do some experimenting.” She tilted her head, as if mentally already dividing Ghost up into parts. “It was a shame all your friends died burning. Nothing usable was left.”

Tears had overflowed Ghost’s pale eyes as Claudia spoke and spilled slowly down her cheeks. It was due to the fever, of course; pain and delirium had overwhelmed what little emotional fortitude she still had. She was barely more than a child.

Claudia leaned forward again, briskly setting the back of her hand to Ghost’s burning forehead. “Now, are you going to let me tend your arm, or do I have to spell you asleep again and do it anyway?”

“No magic,” Ghost pleaded, shuddering. Her voice was high and tight, trembling with emotion.

“No magic, then,” Claudia agreed solemnly. “Just hot water to clean it and a poultice for the infection. Some willowbark syrup for the fever, then fruit juice and broth, later—when you feel up to it.”

Ghost slumped in her restraints. Claudia could see that most of the fight had gone out of her. With any luck, it was permanent. She closed her eyes and nodded weakly, tears still running down her face.

A touch and a few whispered words heated the bowl of water to steaming. Claudia dipped the first of her cloths in it, and began.

—

Ghost’s condition improved over the next few days, though she remained withdrawn. Claudia decided the time was finally right to open negotiations.

She entered the cell and sat, leaning back against the wall. Still carefully out of reach, but close enough to be considered companionable. She looked over to where Ghost was still chained. “How are you feeling?”

“Oh, I’m just dandy. Never better,” Ghost huffed derisively. “Don’t you have any friends to bother instead of me?”

“Hm,” Claudia made a show of considering the question. “Not really.”

Ghost rolled her eyes. “Just my luck. What do you want, then?”

“I want to talk about what I think we can do for each other.”

“I doubt theres much I can do for you in here,” Ghost said acidly, “Except, as you’ve pointed out, provide ingredients.”

“So let’s talk about what you can do for me not in here,” Claudia countered. “You also lost someone important to you, that night.” It wasn’t a question, but she paused for confirmation, anyway.

Ghost remained silent, but gave a single, short nod.

“Dad—Dad was my world. He taught me everything I know. Maybe he wasn’t always the best person, but—,” she paused, her throat tightening. “King Harrow is the reason he’s dead. So I want you to kill him.”

She held up her hand when Ghost shifted. “Just listen. You want to know why.”

“Dad gave everything for Harrow.” She grimaced, struggling with the words. “And now Harrow’s up there wearing his skin, throwing away everything my dad did in his entire life—everything he sacrificed for this kingdom, for humanity itself—like it was all for nothing. Like none of it ever even mattered.”

“So, I want—,” she took a slow breath, doing her best to keep it steady and still feeling it shake. “I want him to see everything he’s working for—this so-called peace that’s his grand new vision—in ashes. I want him to suffer. And then I want him to die.”

The silence stretched for a long time.

“You’re insane,” Ghost finally said, staring at her with a mixture of shock and fascination.

“Am I?” Claudia retorted. “How is it any different from what your Dragon Queen demanded?”

“I didn’t say it was bad.” Ghost’s eyes flicked away for a moment, then back to her. “And what about Prince Ezran?”

“Prince Ezran,” Claudia repeated, uncomprehending. Then the pieces came together in her mind. “He was the second target, wasn’t he?”

Ghost watched her coolly. “Is there any better way to make someone suffer?”

There was expediency, there was twisting the knife, there was poetic justice—and then there was… that. “No,” Claudia said decisively. “No harm comes to Ezran. Why were you sent after a ten-year-old boy, anyway?”

Ghost bristled. “It wasn’t only the Dragon King that was slain. Your Harrow also destroyed his egg—murdered their only child and heir. The same fate for his would be justice!”

Claudia thought of the egg, alive and not even ten paces away, and kept her face carefully neutral.

“There’s plenty of blame to go around, and plenty of blood. None of it is Ezran’s,” she replied. “It was Harrow’s hand on the spear, but my father’s will in the spell. The magic came from the last unicorn horn in the human kingdoms, maybe even in the whole world—a horn I claimed. I don’t know who laid a hand on that royal egg, and it doesn’t matter. They wouldn’t even have been in arms’ reach of it if not for all that came before.

“Your assassin friends killed my father. You’ll kill King Harrow. If that’s not enough blood to appease your queen’s sense of justice… then when Harrow’s dead, you can kill me, too.”

She moved to kneel directly in front of Ghost and grabbed her by the jaw. It was dangerously close, but she didn’t care.

“But if any harm comes to Ezran,” she continued quietly, “I’ll start with those pretty, precious eyes and harvest every last thing I can from you. And I’ll keep you alive as long as possible for it.”

Ghost glared at her, her mouth a stubborn line. Claudia stared back, her grip unwavering.

It was Ghost who looked away first. “My heart for Xadia,” she muttered. “Fine.”

“That didn’t sound like a ‘yes, Claudia, I promise Prince Ezran will not be harmed.’”

Ghost’s eyes returned to Claudia’s. “Yes, Claudia,” she enunciated, more than a little mockery in her tone. “I promise Prince Ezran will not be harmed.”

Claudia figured that was the best she was going to get. “Good,” she said, releasing Ghost’s face and standing up.

“So are you going to unchain me, then?” Ghost wiggled the fingers of her manacled hand. “Or is King Harrow going to somehow come to me?”

“Not yet, because I’m not stupid,” Claudia replied. “But give me another day or two and I think I’ll have a solution to both that and your little dexterity problem. I assume you’d prefer to be working with two hands again, right?”

Ghost stared up at her for a moment, then actually cracked a smile. “Yeah,” she said. “I’d like that.”

#the dragon prince #claudia #rayla #no editing we die like men #kradogsfic #ouroboros au

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chaoticbard · 10 days

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Barding

Defining Work

Every bard worth their salt has at least one song that's a perennial crowd favorite, one that consistently earns coin. Alaara has a couple that are fairly reliable when played. One of them is an exaggeration of her and her sister's childhood in which she goes on about how even straight out of the egg, they squabbled. And they did so in the most petty and ridiculous ways imaginable, one-upping each other until an outside force made them band together. Thus ended their war... at least until the evil was defeated. She titled it 'Dragons' Warfare'. Another is a tune all about her first true love. It's an argubaly corny as all get-out tune that's equivalent to something like a 50s doo-wop song. Alaara wrote it when she was very young and just starting out. 'Toril's Angel' is now a veritable classic, and one she still performs upon request. Her first love is very much over with, but she remembers it fondly.

The Cormyr Incident

Alaara is hard-pressed even to this day to go into gritty specifics when it comes to her infamous, disastrous performance in Cormyr. She's even harder-pressed to say the title of the song she'd performed lest it trigger someone's memory that was present during that unfortunately bloody day. Formally speaking, the title of the offending song that earned her the title of 'The Ravager' was 'Hijinks, Hellspawn, and Harlots'. A crude ballad, its lyrics were about anything and everything controversial one could do in life. Well and good enough on its own, but Alaara made the mistake of assigning the lyrics to persons in the audience. Given the drunken state of most of the crowd, this did not play well, and a fight broke out. Alaara ended up in the largest tavern brawl Suzail had seen in a century. Plenty of people left injured. A few left the plane of existence. Regardless of the fact those who died did so only after pulling weapons upon her or upon others, she felt guilty for a very long time about having blood on her hands over a song. What an embarrassing thing to slay someone over.

Alaara's Muses

As if in irony, one of Alaara's muses just so happens to be conflict. She's penned several works regarding varying types of strife. Petty but interesting squabbles from the history books have proven to be a gold mine for her. Stories about pompous nobles warring over land and getting their hubrises shattered. A well-disguised diss track about her former Waterdhavian lover, Rishaal who broke up with her in utter exasperation after his shop was decimated by Alaara on accident... She of course pens ballads aplenty about her adventure to Baldur's Gate. Every companion she traveled with gets a feature tune about themselves and their struggles, and everyone is featured in a work all about fighting the Netherbrain and saving the city. Every tune ends on a good note; Alaara finds no sense in making purely melancholic tunes that leave an audience depressed. Besides, all of her friends' stories came to a happy conclusion, or they're well on their way to them!

Her other, lesser used muse is love. Alaara reserves this muse for special occasions. Hallmarking her first love was one. She wrote a tune or two about Rishaal that held the golden dragonborn in good esteem, and one, of course, in bad. And of course, she'll pen a song (or a hundred) about the love of her life when they come along. Good luck perusing the works as they're in progress, however. These ballads are the only ones she'll get defensive over showcasing as they're being written. No eyes may gaze upon them as they're being completed because they have to be perfect. No sense in being anything less than that for whom she treasures after all.

#{{ About;; }}

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draqonsblues · 1 year

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I posted 869 times in 2022

That's 362 more posts than 2021!

61 posts created (7%)

808 posts reblogged (93%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@sasstrid-and-dorkcup

@lnc2

@jellyjay

@aerequets

@donqyeon

I tagged 135 of my posts in 2022

#alchemy of souls - 103 posts

#alchemy of souls: light and shadow - 19 posts

#the dragon prince - 9 posts

#tdp season 4 - 4 posts

#miraculous ladybug - 4 posts

#my loves - 4 posts

#in love w this - 3 posts

#lee jae wook - 3 posts

#i cant do this anymore - 3 posts

#rayllum - 3 posts

Longest Tag: 77 characters

#sorry for the long post will go back losing my mind over uk & mudeok/naksu<;33

My Top Posts in 2022:

i cant believe people hate naksu by saying she's manipulative etc. HONEY THATS WHAT MAKES HER UNIQUE she was trained to be a killer at such a young age and was wronged by the people around her and that's unfortunately the only thing she has ever known until she met uk

and also who wouldn't want a badass assassin for a main character (and how much angst this character can fit)

120 notes - Posted August 24, 2022

mudeoks entire harem showing up to look for her id say iconic behavior

154 notes - Posted July 10, 2022

no bc in my head, all too well by taylor swift started playing

158 notes - Posted October 9, 2022

that is the most sweetest proposal that mudeok and uk deserves. from mudeok coincidentally wearing a wedding gown and uk's speech about both of them sacrifacing their powers and then leading to quit being a pupil of naksu because he found someone to love and cherish and naksu allowing him to quit bc she also found someone to love and cherish. then uk asking mudeok to marry him? alright romance slayed so hard

227 notes - Posted August 28, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

i mean who the fuck gets matching jade egg charms when there's a belief that those very same jade is meant for your love to deepen for each other? or being blind temporarily yet instantly knew it was them through their touch? or suddenly confessing you miss them whilst the other is stuck in a mirror of longing? or using yourself as a shield to avoid them having their souls shifted?

537 notes - Posted July 10, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #insanity #most of it is aos HELP #alchemy of souls

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chispas-and-broken-bindings · 3 years

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Chispas Does a Meta, Pt. II

Let’s Build a Fire & Make Speeches!

Welcome back, my captive audience. If you have no idea how you got here or what I’m talking about, might I recommend going back to Part I where I sing a classic Lead Belly tune and introduce the topic of the day:

Ritual Sacrifice.

I’ve already introduced the lambs and given some context leading up to their impending deaths (again, we’re looking at Daenerys X, AGOT & Jon III, ADWD).

Now, let’s gather some kindling, eh?

You Can’t Burn Someone Alive Without Gathering a few Sticks...unless you have dragons. But Dany only has eggs (and now I somehow want to morph this into a Succession joke about making an omelette...and this is why I can’t be trusted to write metas)

Let’s check in with Dany X.

Her foragers returned with gnarled cottonwoods, purple brush, sheaves of brown grass. They took the two straightest trees, hacked the limbs and branches from them, skinned off their bark, and split them, laying the logs in a square. Its center they filled with straw, brush, bark shavings, and bundles of dry grass.

That’s a solid base, but I’m just looking for something extra. Some flair, if you will.

Over the carcass of the horse, they built a platform of hewn logs; trunks of smaller trees and limbs from the greater, and the thickest straightest branches they could find. They laid the wood east to west, from sunrise to sunset. On the platform they piled Khal Drogo’s treasures: his great tent, his painted vests, his saddles and harness, the whip his father had given him when he came to manhood, the arakh he had used to slay Khal Ogo and his son, a mighty dragonbone bow.

Now we’re getting somewhere. Anything more?

The third level of the platform was woven of branches no thicker than a finger, and covered with dry leaves and twigs. They laid them north to south, from ice to fire, and piled them high with soft cushions and sleeping silks.

Very posh. I’m satisfied. Oh, we’re not done yet? You know we have another fire to get to, right? You don’t care? Fine, but make it worth my time.

Afterward, Dany sent them all away, so she might prepare Khal Drogo for his final ride into the night lands. She washed his body clean and brushed and oiled his hair, running her fingers through it for the last time, feeling the weight of it, remembering the first time she had touched it, the night of their wedding ride. His hair had never been cut. How many men could die with their hair uncut? She buried her face in it and inhaled the dark fragrance of the oils. He smelled like grass and warm earth, like smoke and semen and horses. He smelled like Drogo. Forgive me, sun of my life, she thought. Forgive me for all I have done and all I must do. I paid the price, my star, but it was too high, too high . . .

Dany braided his hair and slid the silver rings onto his mustache and hung his bells one by one. So many bells, gold and silver and bronze. Bells so his enemies would hear him coming and grow weak with fear. She dressed him in horsehair leggings and high boots, buckling a belt heavy with gold and silver medallions about his waist. Over his scarred chest she slipped a painted vest, old and faded, the one Drogo had loved best. For herself she chose loose sandsilk trousers, sandals that laced halfway up her legs, and a vest like Drogo’s.

The sun was going down when she called them back to carry his body to the pyre. The Dothraki watched in silence as Jhogo and Aggo bore him from the tent. Dany walked behind them. They laid him down on his cushions and silks, his head toward the Mother of Mountains far to the northeast.

So, this is actually a very tender last rites for Dany’s deceased husband...warmongering rapist though he may be. Alas, the questionable choice to say he smelled like semen, kind of ruins the moment.

Okay, is that it? NO? What else is there? Oh yeah. I almost forgot. Silly me. The fucking eggs.

She climbed the pyre herself to place the eggs around her sun-and-stars. The black beside his heart, under his arm. The green beside his head, his braid coiled around it. The cream-and-gold down between his legs. When she kissed him for the last time, Dany could taste the sweetness of the oil on his lips.

I get it, Dany. Go big or go home.

Alright, Jon III. You have some competition. Are you up for the challenge? Hit me with your best shot.

The queen’s men had made it from the trees of the haunted forest, from saplings and supple branches, pine boughs sticky with sap, and the bone-white fingers of the weirwoods. They’d bent them and twisted them around and through each other to weave a wooden lattice, then hung it high above a deep pit filled with logs, leaves, and kindling.

Okay. What else?

Two queen’s men brought forth the Horn of Joramun, black and banded with old gold, eight feet long from end to end. Runes were carved into the golden bands, the writing of the First Men. Joramun had died thousands of years ago, but Mance had found his grave beneath a glacier, high up in the Frostfangs. And Joramun blew the Horn of Winter, and woke giants from the earth. Ygritte had told Jon that Mance never found the horn. She lied, or else Mance kept it secret even from his own

So, a wooden cage and a horn of dubious origin. Is that all you’ve got?

It is.

Okay everyone, I’m starting to suspect Jon III of phoning this murder in.

Dany X : 1/Jon III: 0.

Let’s Introduce our Masters of Ceremonies

How rude of me. I introduced the muderees in Part I, before introducing the murderers. I have no manners.

Well, on one hand we have: Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, the First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms (disputed claim), (not yet) the Mother of Dragons, the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, (not yet) the Unburnt, the Breaker of Chains (disputed claim)

On the other hand, we have Jon Sn-aaaP! He doesn’t do the murder, guys! He’s Jon “beet counter” Snow. He doesn’t burn people alive.

That’s Mel...It’s Melisandre of Asshai doing the honor tonight, kids, on behalf of Stannis Baratheon, the First of His Name, The King in the Narrow Sea (disputed claim), The King of the Painted Table (disputed claim), the dark lord (who the fuck calls him this? I really want to know who stuck this Harry Potter reference into asoiaf), The King of Dragonstone (disputed claim), The King at the Wall (eh...the Night’s Watch really rolls over on this), Azor Ahai reborn/come again (disputed claim), the prince who was promised (disputed claim).

Holy shit. That is way too many titles for an incest baby and a middle child. I’m calling this round a draw. No points awarded.

(If anything, Jon has dipped into the negative, as he doesn’t even get to do the murder in his own chapter. Weak.)

Moving on.

The Guest list

Who are the lucky few who got tickets to such exclusive events? I’m so jelly. I haven’t even been to the movie theater since early 2020.

With that collar-popping pyre, Dany was prepared to perform to a sold out stadium, but because of some backstabbing opportunistic dudebro, Ko Pono, who is suddenly fancying himself a khal, she’s dealing with some last hours of the Fyre-Festival fallout bullshit, after that punk took off with most of Drogo’s khalasar to party down at the Dothraki version of Coachella.

Time to turn this shit-pile into Burning (wo)Man, Dany. (I know. I’m insufferable. I’m really sorry, everyone. I told you someone else should write this.)

“The Dothraki follow only the strong,” Ser Jorah said. “I am sorry, my princess. There was no way to hold them. Ko Pono left first, naming himself Khal Pono, and many followed him. Jhaqo was not long to do the same. The rest slipped away night by night, in large bands and small. There are a dozen new khalasars on the Dothraki sea, where once there was only Drogo’s.”

Disappointing, but who do we have left? There has to be an influencer or two who would be willing to tweet about this, right? RIGHT?

“The old remain,” said Aggo. “The frightened, the weak, and the sick. And we who swore. We remain.” “They took Khal Drogo’s herds, Khaleesi,” Rakharo said. “We were too few to stop them. It is the right of the strong to take from the weak. They took many slaves as well, the khal’s and yours, yet they left some few.

Alright, so it’s a sad turnout for Dany. How are things up at Castle Black?

A thousand captives watched through the wooden bars of their stockade as the horn was lifted high. All were ragged and half-starved. Wildlings, the Seven Kingdoms called them; they named themselves the free folk. They looked neither wild nor free—only hungry, frightened, numb.

Eeek...pretty dismal, folks. Anyone else here?

The king’s eyes were blue bruises, sunk deep in a hollow face. He wore grey plate, a fur-trimmed cloak of cloth-of-gold flowing from his broad shoulders. His breastplate had a flaming heart inlaid above his own. Girding his brows was a red-gold crown with points like twisting flames. Val stood beside him, tall and fair. They had crowned her with a simple circlet of dark bronze, yet she looked more regal in bronze than Stannis did in gold. Her eyes were grey and fearless, unflinching. Beneath an ermine cloak, she wore white and gold. Her honey-blond hair had been done up in a thick braid that hung over her right shoulder to her waist. The chill in the air had put color in her cheeks.

A royal, albeit one whose eyes are described as bruises (that can’t be good), and a hot girl in gold (with honey hair). +2 for Jon III. Anyone else?

Jon watched unblinking. He dare not appear squeamish before his brothers.

Stop breaking my heart. Also, I don’t have time to talk about you...yet. And you aren’t supposed to be relegated to the crowd in your own chapter, Jon. It’s almost like you aren’t even an important character. Only weaklings like Sansa are relegated to passive, observant roles in their own POVs. Jeeze. Did you at least bring any of your bros to the event?

He had ordered out two hundred men, more than half the garrison of Castle Black. Mounted in solemn sable ranks with tall spears in hand, they had drawn up their hoods to shadow their faces … and hide the fact that so many were greybeards and green boys.

Docked a point for having to hide your faces, boys.

Where does this leave us? Oh yeah. Let’s tally up.

Dany X: 1: Jon III: 0

Pour the champagne and let’s all raise a glass for...

The Speeches! (or the best time to sneak out for a cigarette at most weddings)

Let’s remember, Dany is coming off a few major losses. Before her big speech, she has a few tête-à-têtes first. She needs to test out her material before her big act.

With Aggo:

Aggo would have added the weapons Drogo’s bloodriders had given Dany for bride gifts as well, but she forbade it. “Those are mine,”she told him, “and I mean to keep them.”

Can’t let a good weapon go to waste, amiright? Human life on the other hand…

With Jorah:

“Viserys is dead. I am his heir, the last blood of House Targaryen. Whatever was his is

mine now.”

Maybe, she does need to workshop this shit in Essos for a while. Yikes. -1

Everybody else:

“You will be my khalasar,” she told them. “I see the faces of slaves. I free you. Take off your collars. Go if you wish, no one shall harm you. If you stay, it will be as brothers and sisters, husbands and wives.” The black eyes watched her, wary, expressionless. “I see the children, women, the wrinkled faces of the aged. I was a child yesterday. Today I am a woman. Tomorrow I will be old. To each of you I say, give me your hands and your hearts, and there will always be a place for you.”

That’s actually sweet. +1

I wonder how that will work out for them? (No spoilers, guys! Just kidding. I’ve read canon and fanon and sooooooo many bad takes. Spoil away). In the meantime, let’s check in with the last two people Dany “saved”.

First up, is Eroeh, “the timid girl Dany had rescued outside the mud walls of the Lamb Men.”

Insider tip. When Dany says “rescued”, what she reall means is that she took the girl in as a personal slave after her husband’s thugs gang-raped her...for the Iron Throne...look, I’m confused too. But still, it’s a nice little trick to keep someone loyal. Eroeh only got slapped a little by her “savior”, but she knew from experience it could have been so much worse.

Eroeh stared fearfully at Drogo where he lay.

“He dies,” she whispered. Dany slapped her. “The khal cannot die. He is the father of the stallion who mounts the world. His hair has never been cut. He still wears the bells his father gave him.”

But then Dany went into labor at the most inconvenient time, and Eroeh...well, let’s see, what happened to her:

“Eroeh?” asked Dany, remembering the frightened child she had saved outside the city of the Lamb Men.

“Mago seized her, who is Khal Jhaqo’s bloodrider now,” said Jhogo. “He mounted her high and low and gave her to his khal, and Jhaqo gave her to his other bloodriders. They were six. When they were done with her, they cut her throat.”

Okay, Chispas, that was horrible. I’m truly sorry that we had to re-examine that scene. But what about the second person Dany saved? Surely they had a better fate?

That was Mirri. Our blood sacrifice, remember? Keep up!

Okay, -2 for Dany for making promises she’s already proven unable to keep. Still, It can only go up for her from here, right? Well...we’ll get back to that, later.

Right now, it’s time for our second orator to take the stage.

Melisandre only has “years beyond count” on Dany, so it’s almost an unfair competition. And she has the wind behind her back. Her man, Stanny, finally won a battle… never mind that it was against a bunch of refugees, during a supposed armistice. What does our Lady Red have to say?

Beneath the weeping Wall, Lady Melisandre raised her pale white hands. “We all must choose,” she proclaimed. “Man or woman, young or old, lord or peasant, our choices are the same.” Her voice made Jon Snow think of anise and nutmeg and cloves. She stood at the king’s side on a wooden scaffold raised above the pit. “We choose light or we choose darkness. We choose good or we choose evil. We choose the true god or the false.”

Strong start. Her voice somehow sounds like it smells good. +1

“If the Wall falls, night falls as well, the long night that never ends. It must not happen, will not happen! The Lord of Light has seen his children in their peril and sent a champion to them, Azor Ahai reborn.”

Look folks, we’ve got a professional hype-man in the house! +1

“FREE FOLK!” cried Melisandre. “Behold the fate of those who choose the darkness!”

ALL CAPS means she knows how to project. +1

And then boom. She just jumps right into the fire (figuratively...not literally. When I make this comment again later, with Dany, I will mean literally)...but I’m not ready for fire-play just yet. Does Mel have anything else to say?

“The Lord of Light made the sun and moon and stars to light our way, and gave us fire to keep the night at bay,” Melisandre told the wildlings. “None can withstand his flames.”

“None can withstand his flames,” the queen’s men echoed.

Mel has backup singers. Dany didn’t. +2 points to Mel.

Look, Mel had an unfair advantage. She’s a professional. She’s been on tour before. She has a few platinum records under her belt. Dany is the ingenue, who doesn’t even have her first single out. Still, this is a competition. Points must be tallied.

But wait, this is a Jon chapter. We can’t award him points, when Mel was doing all the work. In fact, I’m docking him a point.

Dany X: -1/Jon III: -1

It’s neck and neck, and they’re both under water, but at least Dany is putting her back into it. I’m not impressed with Jon. He is giving me real mediocre white man vibes, so far. It’s almost like he’s not into ritual sacrifice....which would be totally lame, right?

I know the rest of you are all itching for the murder part, but you’ll have to wait for Part III, when we’ll really dig into the charred meat of the matter.

I apologize for everything, but regret nothing.

#chispas does a meta #part II #I spent waaay to much time on this today #enjoy #anti daenerys targaryen #dark!dany #asoiaf meta #asoiaf snark #fire and blood sacrifices #longpost #don't tell me if I messed up the math #I don't care

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velvet-apricots · 2 years

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A friend went “Fyra lore when” and I realized aside from my fanfics I have not really given a lot of info about my Tarnished! So here we go.

Fyra is like Roderika and Fia, in that she comes from outside the lands between, from a group of Tarnished who broke off from Godfrey when he was banished and settled and made their own way in life, going from warriors to farmers, blacksmiths, and carpenters. They all live in villages scattered in a fertile valley, and have a governor that lives in a wooden fort. They are not a strong or super wealthy people but the warrior blood still runs in them and they can defend themselves decently enough.

Fyra is a farm girl on a big farm her father owns and works on, she has a country accent, and a strong body. She spent her time feeding the chickens, milking cows, and fighting off minor nuisances to keep said chickens and cows safe. As such, she can hold a sword and has a bit of combat skill. She has no formal education, but can read/write and do basic math. She can’t solve ten times ten or tell you what precarious means, but she knows that when you have six eggs from one chicken, and four from another, you have ten eggs

She used to talk a lot. She was a chatterbox and a flirt and likes boys (and girls sometimes). Her father gave up trying to stop her from having fun with them and just gives a basic “don't let 'em put it in you till you're married’ warning to her.

She is very girly and likes dresses.

She was unmarried and in her 20s when she left. She has sutors though… Well she had suitors.

Fyra has a grandmother, who likes to tell stories to her about the lands between, however her grandmother tells stories of before the shattering, so when Fyra does get to the lands between by hitching a ride on a boat with other Tarnished who are trying to make the journey, the lands are not much like what she envisioned in her head.

There are no undead where fyra is, but there are dragons. A big old dragon lives in the mountains around the valley, and there are other creatures one could consider ‘fantasy’ like (oversized spiders, giant rats, goblins, giant bats, ect). Whether the dragon comes from the lands between or somewhere else is not really known, as it leaves them alone, and the people in turn leave it alone.

Fyra’s mother and grandfather both passed away. IDk why either died, but for her grandpa, probably old age.

Fyra at first ignored the call of the lost grace, but oer time the fires of ambition burned hotter and hotter in her, until all she wanted was to fulfill the prophecy of being elden lord, even if it seemed impossible, given she had no real skill aside from the bare minimum. It was the fire that drove her onward.

Fyra hitched a ride to the lands between on the same boat Godfrey did.

Her talkative nature was killed pretty soon after coming to the lands between. She spoke to much to a certain white masked man, and he got so annoyed with her, his facade cracked and he murdered her by cutting out her tongue. He tried to be nice after she revived and helped her as he does in game, but you really can’t go back from that, can you? After that, she stopped talking a lot, fearing someone else would do the same, and in time, that fear morphed into a fear of just talking to people in general, because everyone she spoke to suffered in some way. By the time she slays the elden beast, she is totally mute.

In her time of trauma, Gideon shows her kindness, as such she latched onto him and grew to love him deeply, even if he was heavily flawed.

Rogier was her best and first friend in the lands between. His passing hurt her deeply.

She was also close to Fia, and while she liked D, he eventually stopped talking to her as she too pitied the undead. When Fia killed D, Fyra was horrified and felt like it was her fault as she gave him the dagger.

Fyra is also close friends with Nepheli, despite the awkwardness that comes with… well fucking her dad. Nepheli considers Fyra her family, with fyra feeling the same. When Gideon abandons her, Fyra tries to mend their relationship and give Nepheli comfort. In the end, Nepheli becomes Lord of Stormveil, and while she has civil conversations with Gideon and considers him her father still, there is no fixing what was never broken in the first place.

Boc means everything to her. She loves him and encourages him in everything he does. Indeed, he becomes a royal seamster to her, making her all of her dresses once she becomes Elden Lord. And though maybe not perfect, she loves every single one of them. As one of her few remaining friends, she is protective of him, and won't let anyone talk down to him.

Fyra of course is close to Hewg and Roderika as well, as both of them temper her weapons and ashes respectively. Fyra is so grateful they both get out of Roundtable Hold when it is burning with the Erdtree

Fyra’s favored ashes are the lone wolves Ranni gifted her, Banished Night Oleg, and the Crystalian.

Fyra is terrified of Seluvis. Like, legitimately she is so creeped out by him. Once she learned what he did, she left Ranni’s rise and never returned, leaving a lot of work unfinished. She feels terrible for it, but that man… That man freaked her out.

On the other hand, she very much likes Iji, Blaidd, and Ranni. She calls Ranni “Miss Ranni”, which Ranni finds endearing.

Fyra also does not like Dung Eater. When Boggart warned her of him, and she found out he had a physical location, she went out and flat out murdered him in his prison cell. She had no regrets doing that.

She’s so nice to him, Patches can’t really bring himself to shove her off that cliff. Other then that he doesnt think a whole lot of her, given she’s as gullible as a three yearold when they first meet.

She. Adores. Alexander. Like, he was one of her most favorite people to run into cause he was so jolly and clumsy.

She liked Dialos a lot, and helped him when she could. She probably would flirted with him, had they met under different cercumstances.

#Fyra the 'i fucked your dad' tarnished #oc #elden ring oc #elden ring spoilers #elden posting

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drarryruinedme7 · 3 years

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Last year I made a post with all my fave Drarry fics from my first year of fandom. Have my second year wrap up! Listed by Rating and then length.

RATING: TEEN AND UP AUDIENCES

Beautiful by @xx-thedarklord-xx (2017; 8.9k)

Summary: With the second task looming closer, Harry escapes to the Black Lake to open the egg, in the hopes of avoiding Myrtle. The Mersong isn't just helpful in figuring out that Mermaids are real, it attracts his very own handsome Merman.

*I didn’t know I love merpeople AUs until I read this one. It was cute and sweet and I’m really glad I read it.

Hermione Granger's Hogwarts Crammer for Delinquents on the Run by @waspabi (2017; 93.3k)

Summary: 'You're a wizard, Harry' is easier to hear from a half-giant when you're eleven, rather than from some kids on a tube platform when you're seventeen and late for work.

*What can I say. This is a masterpiece, it absolutely entered my heart to never leave it again. Best AU ever!!!

Away Childish Things by @letteredlettered (2018; 153.8k)

Summary: Harry gets de-aged. Malfoy has to help him.

* This has been the turning point of my Drarry passion this year. First, I discovered Lettered (good Lord why hadn’t I before?!) and then, well. This fic brought out so many feelings in me and I’ve already re-read it something like 5 or 6 times in the span of a few months. Amazing.

RATING: MATURE

you’ve got the antidote for me by Kandakicksass (2018; 20.7k)

Summary: When Harry Potter unintentionally severs their soulbond before it can fully form, Draco Malfoy resigns himself to a slow death and decides not to burden Harry with a soulmate he's made it very clear he doesn't want.He's never been selfless before, but for Harry, he can try.

* The angst!! It’s usually not my cuppa, but this was bittersweet and just so well written, I couldn’t stop reading. Find the rec for this one at this post.

RATING: EXPLICIT

Give Me Sweet Oblivion by @tryslora (2012; 4k)

Summary: Italy seems like a long way to go to keep a fetish secret. But the club is exclusive, and the far away location, and Muggle nature, promises anonymity from Wizarding Britain. The only problem is that sometimes, great minds think alike.

*Super hot, I love finding old gems like this one. Plus, Italy. Go, folks!

Shiny Things, Slightly Damaged by @lqtraintracks (2020; 5.3k)

Summary: Harry may not ever have had to see it if McGonagall hadn’t decided it was a good idea to hold a ceremony on the grounds outside before the Sorting in the Hall. And by ‘it’ he’s referring to Draco Malfoy on a motorbike.

*jsklajdksajfa This one! THIS ONE! Slayed me. I read it feverishly and then like, fainted at Draco on a motorbike.... this fic surprised me and I 100% loved it.

A Ghost of Blissful Feelings by @alpha-exodus (2020; 6k)

Summary: Harry hadn't expected to spend his eighth year fucking Draco Malfoy, but it's the only thing that helps him let go.

*Dunno guys, I’m amazed by how much this one hit me. You should read the tags before diving in, but it was darkish in the right way, Harry and Draco suffers and find peace in a ‘’special’’ way, but I stand by it. Hot and intense.

Tell Me (What you Need) by @keyflight790 (2019; 6k)

Summary: Even though Harry was paying for his Dom, there were limits; breaking points in which someone would refuse, no matter how many Galleons were pushed in their direction.

*Okay, I may be biased because this is a gift for me, but Chris never lets down with her amazing writing and this has everything I need and more: Dom!Rentboy!Draco and a perfectly sweet Harry with a Daddy!kink. I mean.

Dangerous by Faith Wood (2014; 6.3k)

Summary: Being trapped in a dungeon with Malfoy — who's a werewolf, a former Death Eater, and a giant git — is definitely dangerous. Harry has no reason to be excited. None at all.

*Y’all know Faith Wood is like my n.1 fave Drarry author. I have no idea why I had never read this one though!!! It’s actually phenomenal, scorching hot and just dsjkafjaks love this werewolf!Draco. OMG.

Scent and Sensibility by aidaninkling (2018; 7.5k)

Summary: [...] Draco's always known he'd be married off as a trophy omega, but suddenly his mother's trying to make him king by promising him to some stupidly good-looking alpha and she just won't stop smiling at him. Does fate's cruelty know no end?!

*This blew my mind. A/B/O AU so hot I melted while reading it and I loved it so much that I re-read it three times IN A ROW. No kidding. Read it.

The Eighth Tale by @letteredlettered (2012; 12k)

Summary: Draco Malfoy tries to fix the past, but instead mucks it up some more. For Harry, it all becomes quite clear.

*Back to Lettered. I love Time Travel fics, and this just delivered perfectly. The ending was also enigmatic enough to keep me wandering, which I always appreciate in these kind of stories.

Sex, Lies and Veritaserum by @letteredlettered (2011; 17.9k)

Summary: This entire fic is one long conversation about sex.

*LOL alright, I’ve developed a new obsession this year (clearly). This was ...gosh! Hot but it also gives away a certain level of intimacy and trust between Draco and Harry to be so open about their kinks... it was perfect.

On One’s Knees by pir8fancier (2008; 33.8k)

Summary: The war is over and to the victors go the spoils.

* The fic which made me fall in love with DownAndOut!Draco.

The Pirate and the Prince by @nerdherderette (2019; 49.2k)

Summary: Draco can't believe that fate and circumstance have made him a stowaway on the Master of Death's ship. He doesn't know what's worse: the dread pirate's legendary vendetta against the aristocracy, or the fact that his captor is the most infuriating yet irrefutably fascinating man Draco has ever met.

*Okay y’all. Nerd is a great person and author. She is phenomenal. And this fic shows it so well. The pirate!AU the Drarry fandom both needed and deserved. Sublime.

Unhook the Stars by jad (2016; 70.5k)

Summary: [...] Seventy-thousand words of pornographic discourse between two boys-turned-men that still haven't learned how to communicate like normal people – with words. Guest appearances by Pansy Parkinson, Neville Longbottom, Hermione Granger, Blaise Zabini, Teddy Lupin, Gregory Goyle, the Weird Sisters, ex-wives, several Weasleys, a Boggart, and a Honey Badger.

*Again, Dom!Draco and such a beautiful sub!Harry. They stole my heart. In this fic they grow up together through the aftermath of the war and they just... they have this intense Dom/sub relationship, I can’t... explain how much I loved this. Scorpius also makes his appearance and it’s so real and cute!

Such Great Heights by aideomai (2015; 93.3k)

Summary: Draco Malfoy, wide-eyed and pale and in a decidedly ragged shirt, was crouched next to the pile of whatever the dragon had been eating. Harry threw himself to a halt and yelled, “Merlin, how many times do I have to save your life?”

*This is one of the last ones I’ve read. Find my rec for it here. Such a cool fic, with a shunned Draco who gets to be so happy in the end, it made me happy too.

Burn The Witch by @lettersbyelise (2019; 95.8)

Summary: When Harry Potter is sent in to investigate Draco Malfoy’s successful potions company, posing as Draco’s bodyguard, he doesn’t know the case will launch a series of events that will change his life — and Draco’s. A story about choices, scars, Chopin piano pieces, and finding all kinds of love in the most unexpected places.

*I do not have the words to express what this fic means to me. First of all, it’s how I met Elise who’s an amazing person and who I’m glad to call friend. She’s the sweetest. And also incredibly talented. This fic will take your breath away from the first word to the last one. Smol!Scorpius is perfectly characterised and my absolute favourite bit of the fic.

Who we are in the shadows by @quicksilvermaid (2019; 99.7k)

Summary: What happens when you’re forced to become the very thing you despise? Ex-Auror Harry Potter, tossed out of the Ministry for something he had no control over, has been looking for a way back to his former life. When he comes across Draco Malfoy in the criminal underbelly of Wizarding London and in need of protection, Harry figures bringing him in to face the Ministry's justice is his ticket back to everything he's lost. But nothing is exactly as it seems. Not even Harry himself. And as he gets drawn further and further into Malfoy's world of honour and deception he finds himself questioning everything he thought he knew—about his childhood nemesis, the Ministry job he misses so much, and most of all, about himself. What happens when you’re forced to see that you were wrong?

*Another incredible person who I got to know better thanks to her breathtaking storytelling and her sweetness for sharing it with me. Quick made something amazing with this fic and I urge you to read it. It was my first creature fic ever, first time I read about werewolves and I totally fell in love with it. Sheer perfection.

Freedom to be by @quicksilvermaid (2019; 169.5k)

Summary: Harry Potter is the Boy Who Lived. 12 years after the war, he's become the Boy Who Lived For Everyone Else. He has the perfect wife. The perfect house. The perfect job. The perfect friends. Only nothing feels perfect. Until one day he stumbles across a club called Release and begins a journey of self-discovery that takes him to a very different place.

*Well, could I just miss out on another one of Quick’s great works? With, again, Dom!Draco!??? No, I couldn’t! This is such a great exploration of BDSM and what it means and Harry’s path into it.

19 Years and 5 Minutes Later by TheMightyFlynn (2015; 202.8k)

Summary: Five minutes after his happily-ever-after, Harry finds himself locked in the public loos with an angry Draco Malfoy and a need that he has denied for 19 years.

*Find my rec for this fic here. It’s really long and has Ginny bashing, but it’s totally worth it!!

#drarry #drarry squad #drarry fic rec #drarry rec #draco x harry #draco malfoy #harry potter #drarry fics #drarry fanfictions #my recs #two years of drarry #amazing authors #amazing stories

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cm-top-10 · 3 years

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C.M. Top 10: Most Dark & Gore Scenes &/or Characters in Cartoon Series

Warning: The following top ten may contain possible spoilers for those who haven't seen newer series. This post may also contain forms of graphic violence & some gore scenes that maybe too much for you to witness. So for your safety & others do not look unless it's at your own risk.

You've been warned...

We all discover at some point in time that not everything you know is allover the rainbow. Most times we see things we can't unsee or learn dark secrets of someone you thought you knew your whole life. & sometimes we learn things the hard way. Or the messed up dark way...

So for this 1st dark Top 10 features the most characters with a dark histories, secrets or just straight up dark/gore scenes. Which character did you not expect to have a dark side? Sadly you be the judge...

1. Invincible - Omni Man beating his son to a pulp.

After learning the dark truth that was revealed to Mark about his father's true intentions. Nolan tells his son the truth about why he was sent to Earth & why he killed the Guardians.

Telling him the reasons why he's here was so he could eliminate any potential threat to the Viltrum Empire. & that he was raising his son not out of responsibility or heroics, but to have him as a bred soldier of the Empire to kill anyone who stood in their way.

& he wanted Mark to join their cause with him.

After Mark angrily refused to help him conquer the planet. Nolan nearly beats the life out of his own son & yells to the top of his lungs saying how pointless it is to protect his home world. While killing millions of innocent people in the process of their brutal fight.

However before he could finish him off, Nolan suddenly realized what he did to his own child & fled the Earth in machspeed, shedding a tear.

They say fatherhood is complicated, but not like this...

2. Castlevania Lords of Shadow - Gabriel's dark fate

While on his journey to slay all three of the Lords of Shadow. Gabriel slowly learned they were the founders of the Order & told him the truth of his order's true intention from each Shadow Lord who too were being used by the Brotherhood of Light. Then when he finally reached the final Lord of Shadow, he learned about his wife's death & fell into dark despair.

Over time his heart grew darkened. & knew nothing but bitterness & sorrow...

But after defeating the three Lords, Laura appears to tell Gabriel that he awakened another ancient evil known as the Forgotten One. Who had plans to destroy all creation & they had to venture to the Brotherhood's fortress to find the entrance to where he was imprisoned.

However only dark begins can enter the realm. & the only way he can bypass it's effects & to defeat this ancient evil, was to become one himself...

So Laura asked him to drink her blood & free her of her torment. Hesitant at first he did what was asked of her & dranked every last drop of her blood, until she died.

He then defeated the Forgotten One & saved mankind. But at a cost of his soul & happiness.

Thus becoming a vampire.

A vampire the world would soon know & fear as Dracul the Dragon.

But that is another story...

3. Baki the Grappler - Yujiro Hanma

As most know Yujiro is the world's most unstoppable & cruelest warrior in the history of fighters. Not even the U.S. Military dares to go near him. Yes Yujiro the Orge has struck fear into many people, even military personnel of different countries. & he did it with no weapons & has turned the U.S. into his personal playground for death & battles.

But the most cruelest thing he's done was ripping the face of one of China's most respected Kaioh masters while facing him in battle, testing his worthiness. The reason Yujiro did this challenge was not to prove his worth but to show all of China & their leaders that they are worthless to him. & showed them all that he doesn't care about their hatred towards Japan noir their worthiness.

& he struck that fear into all who witnessed Ryu Kaioh getting defaced & brutally defeated. Yes this is one man who's definitely going to hell & is going to smile about it.

Because Satan himself would be pissing his buttflap in his sights in fear. While Yujiro fucks his succubus wife in front of his face knowing how little fucks he gives about his "sins."

4. Primal - Sauropod Massacre

After being infected by the Zombie Virus. The infected sauropod becomes a mad rouge & slaughters it's own herd in a bloody rage & massacre.

It left no survivors, ripped them apart & destroyed many of the herds' eggs leaving nothing remaining...

Truly whatever zombie virus this was it drove this poor creature mad & didn't stop until everything wasn't breathing.

Luckily Spear & Fang were able to run it into a dormant volcano. Where the infected dinosaur burnt to ash.

Hopefully now the poor beast is at peace...

5. Star Wars Rebels - Master Luminara's remains

In the search for Luminara to replace Kanan to be Ezra's new master. They soon learned too late that her remains were being used to lure any surviving Jedi out of hiding. So that any Sith Hunters like the Grand Inquisitor would slay them on the spot.

Sadly no one knows whatever happened to her corpse after they escaped. Or if the Empire even still has her.

Rest in peace Luminara wherever you are...

6. Legend of Tarzan - Death of Clayton

While battling in the trees, Tarzan defeated Clayton by tangling him into the jungle vines. But during his blind rage he angrily swiped vine after vine, until one wrapped his neck. Tarzan tried his best to warn him, but in his rage Claton cuts the vine that he was holding on to.

Then after it broke they both plummet to the ground. Tarzan landed safely, Clayton however was hung from above by one of the vines wrapped around his neck after it snapped it straight out from the fall.

There truly are things worse than fate...

7. RWBY - the Death of Adam Taurus

After weeks of stalking Blake & her group. Blake had no choice but to confront Adam for the last time with the help of Yang. The battle was harsh, but in the end they managed to out-think him by stabbing him from different sides. One in his chest & one in the back.

He then fell to his death over a huge waterfall after hitting his head over a ledge before plummeting into the water. Hopefully they've finally seen the last of Adam Taurus.

But let's also hope he doesn't pull a Cinder...

8. TFP Beast Hunters - Predaking beats the scrap out of Ratchet

After using Ratchet to wipe out mankind. The Decepticons threw him into the frails of a vengeful Predaking. Predaking then beats & claws Ratchet, throwing him around like a rag-doll. Until he was ready to finish him off, luckily Ratchet convinced him to hear him out. & told Predaking the truth about what had happened to his Predacon army.

After he told Predaking that it was Megatron who ordered his race's extermination. He asks why he did so & Ratchet replys--

Ratchet: Being on the receiving end of your might. One theory springs to mind, Megatron fears you & any like you.

In his blind rage Predaking stormed his way to Megatron, wiping out anyone who stood in his way.

Which led to his own demise, but that is a story for another time...

9. JoJo's Bizarre Adventure - Stealy Joe gets his ass beat by Jotaro

Now this slimy bastard got what he deserves. Not only did he try to humiliate & blackmail Jotaro into doing his bidding. This cocky motherfucker goes & threatens a random little girl out of the blue. If Jotaro didn't face him like a man & does what he says.

With him up to here with the man's assholeness, our boi Jotaro decided enough is enough & beats the ever loving shit out of this guy. & after punching him multiple times, he literally sends him flying into a wall & throws him his receipt.

Rest in Hell, Joe you worthless bastard!

10. The Falcon Captain America & The Winter Soldier - Captain America U.S. Agent gets his arm broken.

John Walker the former Captain America was given a mantle he wasn't worthy of. Don't get me wrong as much as I had my doubts of him, I was willing to give him a benefit of a doubt. That is until he soiled Steve's good name by using his shield to kill a man in cold blood.

During his blind rage of vengeance, he chased down one of the Flag Smashers & constantly beats him over-&-over with the shield. & then kills him with a fatal blow to the chest area in front of tons of people.

After he murdered one of the perps, Falcon & Bucky tried to ask him to hand over the shield peacefully...

You can take a wild guess what Walker's answer was. He then attacked them with rage & ego, losing his shit. However that ego died as soon as Falcon & Buck breaks his arm to get the shield back. He was then discharged by the U.S. government & was relieved of his duties as Captain America.

Not only that but he then found his way into a dark path he may not be able to uncross.

But that part is another story for another time.

Either way he got dealt some shitty karma.

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thefallendivine · 3 years

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Ma’an-riss Q’iras: Bittersweet

NOTE: This is the short for the second Guardian. If you don’t want to be spoiled about the character, then you are free to skip this post.

---

An ear-splitting screech pierces the air as Tien stabs the wyvern right at the inflicted wound in its chest, bypassing its shell to tear right through its muscle straight into its heart. The wyvern’s last breath blasts her right in the face, smelling like a Dwarven coal mine: sulfuric, earthy, and comes with a burning sting that clings to the back of the throat. Even with the winged lizard’s lashing tongue and bared fangs, Tien is not at all fazed, having grown used to the sights and smells of these Draconic descendants.

Pressing one foot on the wyvern’s chest, Tien establishes footing as she twists her blade around its heart until the wyvern’s thrashing stops and it slumps lifelessly, just like all the others.

“That should be the last of them,” calls a familiar voice from behind Tien. Pulling out her curved sword before turning to face the approaching Human man. With a big grin on his face, Kimber looks around, “We hit the jackpot, didn’t we, boss?”

Tien casts her gaze all over the ruins, so does her companion, a Dragon Hunter just like her who has worked for the hunting party she leads for many years now. Someone she considers her brother.

It is the strangest feeling, having been raised to view Humans with indifference at best, Tien now considers several of them as family. Fifty years ago she would have shuddered at the mere thought of entrusting her unguarded back to an incompetent race, but she has seen past that. Most times she wonders if the Elves are the problem, rather than the Humans.

But that in itself is the beauty of being a Dragon Hunter. No matter what shape or size a person is, they are welcomed with open arms in the quest of slaying terrorizing monsters. Most of them are already disowned by their respective nations, that is why they find no more reason to begin quarrels with one another. It may be a difficult job, but not any more difficult than any other job for a warrior.

“The only problem is: how are we going to transport all these guys?”

The question has Tien looking back to Kimber. “We don’t. Not yet.” Tien turns to the others, her voice then rings deep and loud as she instructs her party, “Wrap them up with the cloth we brought. Be thorough. When you’re done, load up half of the wagons with wyverns. Bury what’s left in the sand with the drakes and the wurms. Those of you whose mind and blade are still sharp, gather around.”

As their party moves to fulfill their leader’s orders, Kimber turns to Tien. “Those weird cloth that took up half the space in our storage. Don’t tell me they’re from ‘nishil-norey’.”

Tien stifles a smile after Kimber butchered the name of the Elven city. But from the proud undercurrent of Kimber’s expression, presumably from displaying his knowledge of the overlooked origin of an uncommon product in front of an Elf, Tien lets the Human have his moment of triumph. “Yes, they are.”

Nyshlenorreian fabric are used by Dragon Hunters to preserve their kills so the value does not depreciate as they are transported through changing humidity and temperature. Elves use them for preservation of harvests, especially those reserved for offerings, and are mostly used within Elven territories. Smuggling these fabrics out of the woodlands is a difficult undertaking and always costs a fortune.

“Holy shit, boss. You’re really serious about this haul, aren’t you?”

Tien raises a brow. “When am I never serious?”

Kimber nods. “Fair point. But why would we load up only half of the wagons?”

Tien turns to the center point of the ruins: an abandoned graystone fortress, its walls still standing strong despite the thousands of years of history that shows on its surface. “Because I need to somehow make up the investment I made. By, perhaps, about ten times?”

Following Tien’s gaze, Kimber whistles. “You mean to say there’s gold inside?”

Tien shrugs. “Gold, ancient relics, unhatched eggs, they always guard something. And that something is always worth a whole lot than a weyr of freshly killed Dragonkins.”

The response Tien is expecting does not come, and she looks to Kimber who now has faraway look on his face. “So you really were serious when you said that this might be the last hunt we’ll ever have. Our kills alone are enough to drown ourselves in fine wine for the next twenty years. But if you’re right about the treasures inside, then we don’t have to do all this anymore.”

Like Kimber, Tien does not reply, having mixed emotions about it all.

Thankfully for the Elf, the Human breaks the moment. “It’s bittersweet… but mostly sweet.”

Tien nods, a soft smile gracing her lips. “Mostly.”

Kimber smiles back before facing the other hunters who have now gathered, raising his sword as he shouts, “You hear that, fellas? One more dive into some musty ruins and we can finally pay back the boss with all the thousand year cognac she wants! No more of that filthy ale she forces down her throat to make us happy!”

The other hunters shout back their own cheer, inducing a fond shake of the head from Tien.

The raucous elation is then disturbed by a shriek echoing from inside the ruins. As the cheers come to a halt, a wyvern shoots out of the fortress’ cracked surface.

The laughter comes a moment later.

“Look at the little guy cheering with us,” Kimber says along with the jeers of the others.

Tien ignores her party in favor of watching the wyvern fly up high towards the sky. Wyverns are hostile on sight even if they are outnumbered, but the one that came out is not. And the shriek it let out is not one of fear; hunters are well aware of how a scared wyvern sounds. Tien has never heard that kind of emotion from a wyvern’s call.

How strange, she thinks to herself.

Just as Tien’s gaze settles back on the fortress, the ground they are standing on begins to shake. A clap of thunder that is usually heard from above reaches the hunters ears. It reverberates below their feet, and aside from just hearing it, they feel it as well. The tremors creep up from the earth onto their feet, quivering its way up their bodies until their balance breaks, pulling them down to the ground on their hands and knees.

Now kneeling and unable to regain stability, the hunters as one welcome the great Dragonkin that bursts out of the fortress with forced reverence.

Tien watches in both horror and awe as the fortress that withstood time is now shattered like glass to make way for what appears to be a giant wyvern— using the leading edge of its wings as a forearm, it lands on the solid ground of the desert.

Assessing the monster, Tien’s gaze moves over its golden carapace up to the crown of horns on its head. Just like any other Dragonkin, penetrating the scales would be difficult, which only leaves the underside. It will be the same as any other wyvern, except the one in front of them is ten times larger than the ones they fought in the area, which only means that it would be impossible for such a wyvern to fly. While it can still move around with leaps and bounds, it still is a wyvern on the ground. And as far as Tien’s experience goes, a grounded wyvern is a dead wyvern.

Tien nods to herself.

“Stand your ground!” She shouts as she gets back to her feet, sword placed in front of her. ”We cannot outrun a wyvern this large! So we kill it, like all the others!”

Just as Tien says the words, the “wyvern’s” wings detach from its front legs, before spreading outward in a glorious display— Tien has never seen a wyvern do such a thing. But before she can think further on it, the monster roars, and along with it, the earth quakes in perfect harmony.

Tien frowns, hearing something beyond the sonorous cry. An unrecognizable pattern of sound yet with distinct and clear succession of structured noise, one with an undertone of expression.

Tien’s eyes widen. Did it speak?

The Elf almost cannot believe the conclusion she came up with, but once more, the wyvern roars.

“Orrtid irayagnan onna...”

Tien’s breath catches. “Impossible...” she breathes out.

“Hey, boss! Are we gonna do this or not?”

To Kimber’s question, Tien can only respond with a vacant look.

Unfocused, her quiet words do not quite reach her companions, “Is this what the Dragonkin are guarding? A real Dragon…”

The golden titan roars again, louder and angrier, “Orrtid irayagnan onna!”

This time, Tien does reply. Not to the Dragon, but to her party. “Run! Run for your lives!”

Confusion spread throughout the Dragon Hunters at the sudden change of instruction. But seeing the frantic look on their leader’s face, they all follow with infected horror.

Ma’an watches as the mortal Humans, ordinary and odd, scatter across the sandy terrain, weaving their way through her dead Dragonkin servants. Anger surges from inside her, hot and pulsing like the world’s core. She takes to the skies, looking down on the mortals who dared disturb her slumber on top of murdering her servants.

She lets her wrath free, spewing out the heat that comes from her own core onto the fleeing mortals.

Once they were the masters Ma’an served, but no Human can ever make her bow down again. Setting herself down on the ground, she shouts a vicious cry: a proclamation of her awakening in the present age.

#main companions #guardians

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a-secret-bolton-vampire · 3 years

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Daenerys Stormborn, Part 1: From Pentos, to Vaes Dothrak, from Qarth, to Slaver's Bay

I've decided since this tiny post; I'll write about Dany. But there's so much I can talk about that I will most likely write between other essays (unless I feel otherwise). Daenerys Targaryen is my favourite character in ASOIAF. She's an incredibly complex character, and one whose fate interests me quite a lot. Of all the endings in the show, Dany's made me the saddest and angriest. Not only did they rush and make her turn a "twist" that happened on a dime, but it fed into the Mad Queen theories that I really despised.

Can't a powerful women with dragons not go mad with power and become prone to hysteria? Also, can said woman not be murdered by her lover/nephew as a way to give said lover more pain instead of having any meaningful end to her arc? And can said woman not have been "an insane tyrant the whole time"? I may one day vent on season 8, but I won't. Instead, I want to attempt to make sense of the ending we saw in the show, and how it applies to the books. Bit by bit, I will build up to Dany's ultimate role in the series. But first, we need to set the groundwork for it.

(CW: Rape)

The Last Dragon

The first we see of Daenerys, she is a very shy girl who was under the thumb of her physically and psychologically abusive brother Viserys. With no agency, she was married off as essentially a marital slave to be raped by Khal Drogo. However, after some meaningful dragon dreams, Dany began to try and take advantage of her surroundings to give herself power. Of course, Viserys didn't like this very much. Dany was everything Viserys wasn't.

Whereas Viserys was incredibly narcissistic and had no real feelings for anyone other than himself, Daenerys shows empathy to those lower than her. While Viserys was prone to violent outbursts of intense rage and did not think things through very well, Dany is more measured, perceptive, and intelligent (not to say she's infallible, nobody in this world is infallible). As Daenerys became more and more loved by Drogo and the Dothraki, Viserys found himself jealous that she was better received than him, the lawful heir to the Targaryen dynasty.

This culminated in Viserys threatening to cut Rhaego out from her, and Drogo pouring molten gold onto his face to kill him. Good riddance, fuck Viserys. Anyways, she then tries to convince Drogo to cross the narrow sea to invade Westeros, but he stubbornly refuses until an assassin hired by Robert attempts to poison her and is caught, at which point he vows to do so. In her first real experience with war, when the khalasar sacks a Lhazareen village, Dany is disturbed to see all the innocent men being massacred and the women being gang raped, so she decides to take the women under her protection, which earns her resentment from some of Drogo's bloodriders.

I don't think Dany was quite aware of what war and conquest would look like until the village, and she was horrified by what she saw. During the sack, Drogo was wounded slaying Khal Ogo, and with Dany's urging, one of the women she took under her protection, Mirri Maz Duur, agreed to heal his wound. Of course, being a maegi, she is hated and not trusted by the Dothraki. Regardless, Mirri heals Drogo's wounds and they continue on until Drogo collapses from a fever, having removed the poultice of his wound.

From there, Dany's hold on the khalasar is weakening. Her power is really tied to Drogo's, as Dothraki society is extremely misogynistic and views women as lesser beings. Desperate to save him, she turns to Mirri for any magic she could use to heal him. This decision is what finally breaks the khalasar, several of the bloodriders try to kill her, and in that time, another one of the women Dany rescued, Eroeh, was gang raped and murdered by Jhaqo and Pono. The result is Daenerys being left with what can't be more than 100 people out of the original 100,000 or so people in the khalasar.

However, Dany suffers another crushing loss; her child Rhaego. While Mirri says that death may pay for life, and she sacrifices Drogo's horse, the real price was Dany's unborn child. She did so because Rhaego was to be the stallion who mounts the world, a prophesied leader of all Dothraki who would become a great conqueror. In addition, Drogo is "healed", but permanently left in a catatonic state. When Dany asks Mirri when he will be back to normal, Mirri says;

"When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east," said Mirri Maz Duur. "When the seas go dry and mountains blow in the wind like leaves. When your womb quickens again, and you bear a living child. Then he will return, and not before."

Dany seems to take this to mean "never", and is heartbroken, so she mercy kills him by smothering him with a pillow.

Throughout the first book, Dany has a series of dreams and visions involving dragons, the most telling of which was her "wake the dragon" fever dream she had during Mirri's ritual. As a result, and to get vengeance for her husband and child, Dany decides to tie Mirri on a stake to Drogo's funeral pyre, as well as placing the dragon eggs with Drogo. Then, when it is lit, and Mirri burns alive, Dany walks into the flames. Everyone thinks she is mad, that she is out of her mind, but Dany seems to think this is all part of her destiny.

And sure enough, when the fire burns out, she is unburnt (save for her hair), and she has three newly hatched dragons. The "wake the dragon" dream also features, near the end, her opening the red door of the house she stayed in as a young child in Braavos, and finding herself under the visor of Rhaegar's helmet, as Jorah repeats "the last dragon". Dany's journey in the first book is about taking control of herself and her family's legacy.

Early on, she realizes that Viserys will never conquer the Seven Kingdoms, and although Viserys originally had Dany marry Drogo to get an army of his own, the khalasar eventually became Dany's army. And when Viserys died, Dany decided it was her responsibility to do what he could not; take back the Iron Throne for her family. And then, at her absolute lowest, when she has lost practically the entire khalasar, her husband, her child, she gains three dragons.

Viserys believed that his name made him a Targaryen, that being King meant he was a true Targaryen. His anger was a tool to assert his dominance as a Targaryen, to get others to bend to his will. He has immense pride for his family, which turned into unchecked narcissism. But for all his talk, Viserys was no true Targaryen, and no true dragon. Dany even thinks this just after he dies.

He was no dragon, Dany thought, curiously calm. Fire cannot kill a dragon.

Dany has brought dragons back to the world, a symbol of the power Targaryens had, back to life. She was not killed by the fire of Drogo's pyre (of course, she isn't fireproof, this was a one time weird occurrence). She is a true dragon, a true Targaryen, who is truly following in the footsteps of her family.

The Lost Dragon

During the Drogo pyre fire (hah), a red comet appeared in the sky. Believing that she has a bigger purpose, and that the comet was sent for her, she and her khalasar follow it, into the Red Waste. Despite thinking this is a sign for her future, she is mostly lost and unsure what to do. With enemies all around, the Red Waste is the only way to go. They find the abandoned city of what she calls Vaes Tolorro, and she sends out her bloodriders to look for what is around.

Eventually, Jhogo returns with three representatives of Qarth; Xaro Xhoan Daxos, Pyat Pree, and Quaithe. They bring her back to Qarth, where she is showered with gifts and given part of Xaro's own palace to stay at. She begs an audience with the Pureborn, the descendants of the kings and queens of Qarth, but they reject her plea for aid in conquering Westeros. Xaro meanwhile suggests marriage, but only as a means to steal her dragons for himself. Quaithe gives very cryptic and vague as hell prophecies to Dany.

With no one left to turn to for aid, Dany decides to seek answers from the warlocks at the House of the Undying, drinking shade of the evening and having numerous visions. When she finally finds the Undying, they seem to be trying to steal her life force, only for Drogon to set them alight. After that, with no way to leave Qarth and refusal to be sent off with any ships, Dany is stuck, and is the subject of an assassination attempt by the Sorrowful Men, sent by Pyat Pree, only for it to be thwarted thanks to Barristan.

On surface level, Dany's ACOK arc is less eventful and straightforward than AGOT; she remains in roughly a single location the entire time, with only two major events occurring (the Undying visions & the attempted assassination). However, after such a journey in AGOT, it makes sense for her story to slow down a bit before speeding back up in ASOS. After finally embracing the responsibility of carrying the Targaryen legacy her brother failed to live to, Dany now has to deal with the fact of how important she is and what her next moves are.

Despite Qarth being so beautiful and splendid, with seemingly everyone ready to provide aid for her quest to conquer Westeros, it is all an illusion. They see someone who is now one of the most powerful people in the world, someone they can use to manipulate for their own ends and gain power for themselves. Quaithe tells Dany as much:

Last of the three seekers to depart was Quaithe the shadowbinder. From her Dany received only a warning. "Beware," the woman in the red lacquer mask said. "Of whom?" "Of all. They shall come day and night to see the wonder that has been born again into the world, and when they see they shall lust. For dragons are fire made flesh, and fire is power."

Dany thinks to herself that there must've been a reason the comet led her to Qarth, as part of her belief that she is heavily tied to destiny.

"The comet led me to Qarth for a reason. I had hoped to find my army here, but it seems that will not be. What else remains, I ask myself?"

So what was the reason she was in Qarth? In my opinion, it was partly to teach her a lesson in not trusting people, but mostly knowledge. The House of the Undying is a massive moment in the series, as it lays out many future events of the series before us (and her!) that are very cryptic and hard to uncover. I will one day examine the full scope of the visions of the Undying, but I want to focus on the narrative reason for this.

Daenerys has a strong sense of destiny. The hatching of the dragons, the red comet, the visions, they all have to mean something, lead toward this grand destiny of hers. I think that a lot (but not all) of the visions Dany experiences are relevant to her future, and lay out a lot of what she will experience/do in the last two books. The prophecies she learns (especially concerning being the "slayer of lies", "three treasons", "three fires", and "three mounts") stay with her into ADWD, where Quaithe once again appears and asks she remember the Undying.

Prophecies are also very common in Greek tragedies, and also appears in Macbeth, a tragedy written by Shakespeare, wherein Macbeth seeks out the knowledge of the witches again out of fear that he will lose his position as king. Daenerys is aware that there will be three treasons committed against her, as well as three fires she will light, and three mounts she will ride, and that there are three heads of the dragon. She constantly considers in ADWD whether these prophecies are coming true, that she finds confusing and suspicious, frustrated even.

In short, the Undying is not just a window into the future, but more of an exploration of the effect prophecy has on a young person like Daenerys who so strongly believes in destiny. She also learns in a vision of Rhaegar about something called "the song of ice and fire", which seems to be extremely significant, and that she will be at the centre of the climactic events of the series.

In the end, it is not herself or the Qartheen who get her out of Qarth, but a disguised Barristan Selmy, sent with three ships by Illyrio to bring her back to Pentos. Dissatisfied with her time in Qarth, she decides to return to Pentos with Barristan... but Pentos is not where she ends up, not even close.

The New Dragon

After leaving Qarth and the return west, Jorah, mistrustful of Illyrio, instead convinces Dany to turn the ships to Astapor and buy Unsullied slave soldiers to help in her conquest of Westeros. Stopping by Astapor, she finds a hellish place, red bricks, tortured slaves, and narcissistic slave masters who have no regard or empathy for anyone other than themselves. Disgusted by what she has seen, Dany formulates a plan entirely in her own head; she decides to buy all the Unsullied by giving Drogon over to Kraznys.

Only she didn't. She only did that to gain control of the Unsullied, before burning the masters and freeing all the slaves. As she tells Xaro later in ADWD, despite being surrounded by slaves with the Dothraki and in Qarth, she did not see how horrible it could be until she got to Astapor and saw how the slaves were tortured. She had the power to try to end it, and decided to take it upon her hands. So instead of heading to Westeros, she decides to liberate Yunkai and Meereen as well.

It's easy to be frustrated at Dany's Essos arc, especially since it doesn't really interact with the Westerosi plot where the majority of the action is taking place, but I think it's important that Dany repeatedly is given an option to go to Westeros, but instead stays in Essos. Progressions in real life are rarely linear, and I applaud GRRM for being able to have clear character arcs while not having the progression be entirely linear and staying true to life.

After Astapor, Yunkai fears what will happen to them as she approaches and hires two sellsword companies for aid. Instead, Dany purposefully lies to the Yunkish envoy and the sellswords, and gives the later wine to get drunk on (and an offer to join her) while she attacks at night. Daario, a lieutenant of the Stormcrows, is won over by Daenerys, kills his fellow captains, and defects to her side. Yunkai is defeated, and the slaves are let go. However, unlike Astapor, Dany does not put an end to the Wise Masters. For this, she is hailed by the freedmen as "mhysa!" or "mother". The Second Sons also join Daenerys after the battle.

Then they move on to Meereen, who has decided to crucify a little slave girl for each mile as a marker from Yunkai to Meereen. When she arrives, the Meereenese champion is easily defeated, and Mero, the former captain of the Second Sons, attempts to kill Dany in her camp, but is promptly killed by Arstan Whitebeard, who is then revealed to be Barristan, who reveals Jorah has been spying on Daenerys for King Robert.

Daenerys takes Meereen and crucifies the 162 Great Masters as retribution for the 162 slave girls crucified. When Barristan explains why he did not tell her who he was, she accepts and forgives him, but she finds she cannot forgive Jorah and banishes him. And of course, instead of leaving for Westeros, she decides to stay in Meereen, after learning that Astapor has been left in the hands of a butcher king named Cleon, overthrowing a council she had instilled when she left, and proposing war against Yunkai, which she just liberated.

Worried about what the effects would be if she simply left Meereen for Westeros, she decides to stay in Meereen and rule as its queen. I decided to call this section "the new dragon" because of Daenerys dismantling an institution her own ancestors helped found. The Ghiscari of Old Ghis had slavery of their own, which they ended up teaching to their new conquerors, the Valyrians. Then, after the Doom, slavery continued again, only this time it was now being practiced by the Free Cities, who are in constant trading with the masters of Slaver's Bay.

As she notes, they keep to the Ghiscari gods, and their symbol is of the harpy, a symbol of Old Ghis, but they no longer speak Ghiscari, instead speaking High Valyrian. Slavery was something the dragonlords of Old Valyria engaged in routinely, and that legacy is still all over Essos. In a way, she is undoing the sins of her ancestors past, and trying to make the world a better place and fighting injustice by using her dragons.

In contrast to ACOK, where she seems as yet undecided on what exactly her destiny is, she seems to be taking control of it in ASOS, becoming Mhysa, the Breaker of Chains, a saviour to those who have been enslaved. It is at this point that she starts to gain a serious following, one that I only assume will continue to grow in Essos. Because of her actions in fighting against slavery, she not only becomes a real saviour to the freedmen, but she also becomes a messianic figure to the followers of R'hllor, as a reincarnation of Azor Ahai.

This is where Dany goes from being simply the last Targaryen, the last dragon, and into a legendary, almost mythic, god-like figure. In my future essays, I will expand upon this aspect of her, since it is going to be really important moving forward, but the start of that is here in ASOS. And thus, this will be where I am concluding part 1. AGOT had Daenerys starting low, but eventually learning to rise up and realize she has to be the one to carry on the Targaryen legacy, after knowing Viserys would never live up to it.

ACOK had Dany questioning her destiny, as well as figuring out what her next step is after the miraculous birth of her dragons. And ASOS concludes her act 1 arc, by having her take control of her destiny and becoming a truly legendary figure who is changing the world. In part 2, I will be discussing in depth the thematic and personal struggles Daenerys faces as she is ruling Meereen in ADWD, and what those struggles and their resolution means for her future.

#asoiaf #asoiaf meta #daenerys targaryen #daenerys stormborn #house targaryen #asoiaf character arcs #essos #mother of dragons

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dzamie-oc · 3 years

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11 - Holiday

i’m what the kids call tired

Length: 1500 words Rating: T (suggestive words, only kobolds are naked and they’ve got scales) Summary: Morning for a particular adventuring group, and it turns out there’s a holiday about slaying a dragon about. What an event.

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Falina groaned and shifted under the covers. A pair of somethings yawned, then snuggled back in against her, trapping one arm. Her mind paused for a moment, then, staying as still as possible, the human woman moved her free arm to carefully, tentatively feel what had latched onto her in her sleep. Scales. She felt the tough, but not unpleasant, texture of scales under her fingers. Opening her eyes, she found herself still in the room above the Adventurer’s Guild, with her elven partner still in his trance state against the wall.

A lump under the blankets shifted. The woman lifted them away, and found herself staring at a pair of jaws spread wide, baring a plethora of small, yet sharp teeth. Adrenaline surged through her body, and she reached for the knife on the table... when those jaws closed, revealing the face of a small, dragon-like creature with yellow scales and eyes to match, slowly blinking sleep from her eyes.

Right in front of her, Rinta sat up on her knees and stretched her arms up with a groan, giving Falina a good view of her bare scales. Then, the kobold leaned over, nudged the other lump in the blankets, and made some growling and hissing noises Falina assumed to be Draconic. A few moments later, a second, green head poked out of the covers. Kassar said something back to Rinta, but extracted himself from Falina’s bedspread and shook himself. The human looked at the yellow kobold, and noticed she was looking back at her. No, not at her - at the knife in her hand.

“A-ah,” Falina said, letting the weapon fall back onto the table. “Look, to my tired eyes, a yawning kobold looks a lot like a hungry dragon, especially a foot away from my face.”

To her surprise, the kobold smiled, and her tail swished back and forth excitedly, running into Falina’s leg. “Really? Oh, thanks!” She hopped off the bed and began to stretch the rest of her body, then looked back over at the human. “I’m glad your reaction time is lacking, then. I use magic best when there’s not a dagger buried in my scales.”

With her two apparent bedmates no longer on the bed, Falina threw the sheets off of herself and sat up, feet on the floor. With the kobolds having discarded their clothes before getting in her bed, she was relieved to find that her own garments were still on her. “Yeah, well, try not to yawn in my face once Arwyn and I hit silver rank. You’re not like the tales of evil kobolds passed around the Guild hall.” Falina pulled on pants, then a shirt, both a little baggy to conceal the tools of her trade. “So why were you two in my bed?”

“Why wouldn’t we be? You invited us to sleep with you last night,” Kassar chimed in, “something about it being cold.”

“I WHAT?!” Falina exclaimed. Off to the side, she heard Arwyn chuckling; the elf was evidently only feigning to still be in a trance.

“Yeah, I’m glad you’re warming up to us a bit,” the green lizard replied, “you’re very soft, by the way. I mean, obviously without scales, but still! Very comfortable.”

“I- with you two?!”

“Hm? What’s that supposed to mean?” Rinta said, scaly arms crossed over scaly chest. “We may not be dragons, but there’s no need for tha-”

“Ah, you younguns. Before we spill each other’s blood...” Arwyn interrupted, “Falina. They meant literally that they slept alongside you. Rinta, Kassar. In human slang, ‘to sleep with’ someone means to have sex with them.”

“Ohhh...” Kassar and Falina said.

Rinta huffed and put on her cloak. “That reaction was still rude.”

After they all got dressed, they opened the door of their room, ready to see what people needed helping and what creatures needed slaying. To their surprise, the hallway had been decorated with streamers, and they could hear raucous cheering and singing more clearly from the hall below.

“Oh, that’s right!” Falina said, “it’s Drachenfell today! Oh, we’re definitely taking a day to have fun.”

“Drachenfall?” Rinta asked. A human adventurer rushed past them, knocking her aside; in retaliation, she gripped her staff and growled at the receding hooligan, the glow in its crystal fading when a green-scaled hand pulled at her arm.

Falina pretended not to notice the interrupted spell, and instead explained, “yeah, about seventy or so years ago, a team of the king’s great knights slew the terrible dragon, uh...” She snapped her fingers a few times, trying to remember the name, and finally continued, “Kazerahad. And it happened close to here, so we celebrate it like it was entirely our doing.” With a proud grin, she crossed her arms and nodded. “Which, of course, it was, even if the knights came from other places.”

Arwyn tossed his dark brown hair. “Ah, and to your people, this is all ancient history, I’m sure.”

Two tails and a hand smacked the elf. “You’re forty, ‘gramps;’ nobody’s buying it,” Falina said.

Arriving in the food hall, the group broke off their conversation to grab a meal: meat for the kobolds, a salad for the elf, and eggs and toast for Falina, herself. They all reconvened at an empty spot at one of the tables. Next to them, a few adventurers with badges of copper or iron traded extremely true stories of the many, many dragons they, personally, had defeated, oftentimes without the aid of their party. Falina caught Rinta looking between her meat and the boisterous braggarts with a mischievous, hungry glint in her eye, so she reached over and tapped the kobold’s snout with the handle of her fork. “Hey, none of that. No fighting in the Guild Hall.”

“I wouldn’t call it a fight-”

“Not happening.”

Rinta still looked reluctant to give up her quarry, so Kassar spoke up. “So, this Drachenfall thing,” he started, “it commemorates the death of a dragon, in one of those ‘don’t be sad because it’s over, but happy because it happened’ things?”

“Well-” Arwyn started, but Rinta cut in.

“No, it probably started as a somber event, but over time got happier, because festivals are more fun than days of remembrance.”

Falina furrowed her brow. “No, it’s a celebration that the dragon died. There was a monstrous, fire-breathing beast terrorizing the city and devouring people, and the valorant knights saved the citizenry from its horrible hunger.”

“Ah... right,” Rinta said, her downward-curved horns seeming to reflect her mood. She tore off a bite of her breakfast and lethargically swallowed it in a few gulps. “So... maybe Kassar and I will take a small assignment or two, and leave you people off to celebrate the killing of Khazhra’ad.”

The human, for her part, felt like a bit of a jerk. She looked down at her own plate, idly listening to the roar of voices all around. The only one not downspirited seemed to be Arwyn, who finished off his salad before suggesting, “a pair of small, dragon-looking beings unaccompanied around town, on a day that’s, well, kind of about dragon slaying, and therefore probably has plenty of world-ignorant children and cocky teens with toy swords? I can’t say I like that combination.”

Rinta sighed. “Yeah, and beating or eating kids is a no-go, no matter what you think about my...” she cast a glance at the adventurers who were showing off scars that totally came from dragon fights and not accidentally stepping on a cat’s tail, before continuing, “... hunting desires. So, what then, Arwyn? Because if you think we should just stay in here all day, I’m gonna invite at least one of those humans to our room and have myself a snack.”

“We could go with them and try to forget the real theme of the holiday,” Kassar put forth. The others gave him strange looks: Arwyn looked impressed, Falina looked confused, and Rinta looked at him like he had renounced koboldhood and would be living as an alligator. So, the green kobold explained, “you said it yourself, there’s enough time for the celebrations to change. Besides, this is a pretty major thing, it seems; if we spend the day avoiding it, we’ll come up miserably short in our report to Azurel.”

Rinta gulped down the rest of her breakfast, and chased it with a swig of her drink. “Alright, for Azurel.”

Falina smiled, though her enthusiasm was still tempered by her earlier misstep. “Great to hear! So, we’d have to avoid... that, that... that one... probably there... oh! I know what to start with. You two can eat sugar and bread, right?”

Kassar shrugged. “We can eat just about anything. Our lack of gag reflex isn’t just for draconic pleasure.”

To the side, one of the noisy adventurers choked on his toast. Rinta leaned over and remarked, “another casualty of draconic superiority. Tragic.”

Falina shook her head at the yellow kobold, then leaned in conspiratorially to Kassar. “Well then, you’re about to learn the glory of funnel cake.”

#text #kobold #kobolds #ocs #oc: rinta #oc: kassar #oc: arwyn #oc: falina #writing #writers on tumblr

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floggingink · 3 years

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OH HERE WE GO LADIES IT’S RIVERDALE, CHAPTER EIGHTY: “Purgatorio”

I’m tuning in to be VERY entertained on the grounds that I missed almost the entirety of S4 and will not understand anything

we open with an incredible analogue comparing the football team to the Army, as men do construct rituals: football players get blown into the sky, etc., in a heartrending mash-up of Archie’s innocence + the American ideal/expectations/pipeline of masculinity

Archie Company is decked out appropriately to storm Hürtgen Forest

that art direction trope where a character’s hearing goes EEEEEEEEEEEEEE after an explosion……...delightful

the Vixens and friends cheering him on from the sidelines as if Archie can only process his unprocessable present through the lens of his past………...hits the spot

distressingly wood-based rifles for our purposes

Archie > Dawson: I don’t mind telling you I felt emotion upon Archie hoisting his war buddy over his shoulders to that quadruple-toned “Chivalric Archie Using His Strength for Good” tune, like when he broke his whole hand busting Cheryl out of Sweetwater River

WHEN HE SAW HIRAM LODGE, I’M TELLING YOU!

Hiram’s dragon-scale gloves? absolutely savory; he would

“Yonkers” is one of those New York place names I don’t totally buy is real (Poughkeepsie is another)

the sepia-toned light in this hospital room rings true judging by all the Captain America fanfiction I’ve read; I also like the mint-colored hand towels draped on Archie’s bedframe bought, one assumes, using the Department of Defense’s Kohl’s Cash

Archie made Sergeant, which is the best ranking for a fictional character: important enough that they can be a leader, get into trouble; low-profile enough that you don’t have to write them in the room making terrible decisions; probably won’t die immediately, as a Captain or Private might be

Fifth period is AP English: Archie reads A Farewell to Arms to Corporal Jackson, a WWI novel by Hemingway that Jug definitely turned him onto

Christ, Archie looks good in that on-leave jacket thing

I like Jackson’s subtle graph paper-print hospital gown

Gay?!: was Jackson in love with Archie? is he gonna bus to Riverdale once he’s off his pain meds? RAS, is that you in there?

God you know I love that haunted-ass Exorcist wooden bench bus light lighting

how long has the WW been relocated under Pop’s??? I do NOT know what happened to La Bonne Nuit

Sexy, aesthetic Southside: Fangs’ hair? his Tony Stark glasses? the girls’ “I’m a Slave 4 U” Burmese pythons? Toni’s headdress and immaculate glossed lip?

Sixth period is Intro to Film: the only part of From Dusk till Dawn I’ve seen is Salma Hayek putting her toe in Quentin Tarantino’s mouth but judging from that I figure I’d like the rest

The female gaze: Jesus Sweet Pea still looks good

Toni’s stage is flanked by twin pillars of melting candles and I would like someone to track those down for my bathroom

if they lay one hand on Pop Tate…

Betty appears to be, on her own, running the FBI training course. Betty is such a freak

Betty’s FBI-appointed psychologist is “Dr. Starling,” wears a great yellow blouse; Betty eats what appears to be a mini-sized Milky Way

her blond FBI trainer-boyfriend (uh) Glen appears to be an unholy fusion of Jimmi Simpson and that one actor with brown hair and really sharp light eyes whose acting credits I can’t think of right now, you know who I’m talking about (not the guy from Vampire Diaries)

I quite like her patterned blouse and I hate his yellow (gold?!) and blue tie

Please protect Betty: obviously we stan the Silence of the Lambs shit even as it remains infuriating Bryan Fuller couldn’t get his hands in it

Betty’s cat’s crying was so disturbingly baby-like that I had to leave the room once I realized it was in fact a cat

I’ve watched the Elisa Lam tape too many times in recent hours to handle this hallway shot

REALLY GROSS LICKING NOISES

the Trash Bag Killer coming at her was scary :(

Betty’s lovely blue knit cardi with the puffed sleeves!

50 Shades of Betty: clearing her throat before the doctor quite finishes her sentence—Lili Reinhart continues to be great at conveying “slightly perturbing subterranean tension”

was Charles a serial killer too??? oh damn!

Betty has been successfully holding off giving Glen a key to her place until now, an era that must come to a close

fellas, “Do I at least get a kiss?” is a bad move

Veronica was rich: Veronica’s new digs: exposed brick, bougiely avant-garde chandelier; possibly an elevator door right there behind the dude?

Veronica has married Hiram, to no one’s surprise

Chadwick looks like Jimmi Simpson and brunet Evan Peters plus a jaw

Veronica’s single-puffled-sleeved gown…..madamn (she has absolutely been taking secret birth control pills)

Summer + Blair = Veronica: of course Veronica would be great at Howard Ratner’s job; I MUST know what “specialty showcase haute couture offense” Vinnie has committed

T-Dubbs’ green jacket

Veronica pretended she was working at like, a department store? but she MISSED the EDGE post-day-trading

their apartment is so expensive that their bedroom is totally exposed

oh my god, Hermione

Best costume bit: please get me these satiny green high-waisted slacks?! and ugh her blouse has shoulder tassels……..she’s flourishing

“That’s threatening to an alpha like Chad.”

yes, they have a private elevator. fine.

Glen and Chad get their ties from the same Men’s Warehouse

“When that helicopter went down on the way to Martha’s Vineyard…”

you know kissing is 4-real when one person cups their hand to the back of the other person’s neck all close

I don’t understand the drop of the Glamergé egg but I appreciate that there is one and that Veronica is like, get this the fuck out of my house

Veronica’s shiny cropped tweed two-piece, Yvonne’s weird feathery coat that matches her bf’s shirt (you know she’s supposed to be “too much” because she’s got big hoop earrings)

God, Jughead is next and I’m not gonna be able to handle it

OH GOD IT’S SO MUCH WORSE THAN I THOUGHT

Alphabet City?! the piano?? the fucking East Coast Beat typewriter shit—the day robe? I’m—READING CLUBMASTERS? FORSYTHE???

OH GOD HE’S DATING ANOTHER WRITER (she has nice pants)

Jughead eats: “that place you like” is a HOT DOG STAND in the middle of SOME GRASS

I’ve seen Brick like thirty times: Jughead wears high-ankle light blue jeans, grey socks, and spectators that blend to create the illusion of wading boots. I’m going to commit a crime

Jughead doubts it: “So did Kerouac. And Hemingway. And Fitzgerald.”

fuck yes I love Floundering Jughead, and his Pushy Agent who pronounces “career” like “Korea,” and the continuing tradition of Jughead getting kicked out of his house

I like Literary Grifter’s sweater

the Brat Pack, and most of the Rat Pack for that matter, were actors, but I assume RAS couldn’t resist the rhyme

I was 100% afraid we were about to learn Cora was an uncomfortably-young undergrad

the musical cue as she reaches into her bag is absolutely as if she’s taking out a gun, and it might as well be! it’s the scariest thing in NYC: an unpublished manuscript

showrunners doing a classic I Love Lucy job partially concealing Vanessa Morgan’s pregnancy via medium close-ups, draping black clothes

Cheryl slowly turning to ask if doesn’t she look okay 10/10 icon

Cheryl’s pins: she has either a tiny spider or maybe a tick

Cheryl’s sheaths: the lacy red thing, amazing

why is Cheryl’s left hand gloved?

Cheryl’s a chaos angel from hell: Cheryl’s going to forge a Rembrandt, which unfortunately means she’s my favorite person on the planet (she does not look happy about doing this)

btw is Nana Rose an Immortal?

please tell me about Toni’s eyelashes

EXTREMELY HAUNTED DOLL?!

“Damn good coffee”: Archie’s earnest “Where are people gonna sit for the bus?” slayed me

fuck YEAH Ghoulies party house! terrible music but really good skull spray paint art

Jug looks LOW lol

Veronica’s blouse + buttons, impeccable

I’m writing a scene where it’s gay.: Tabitha/Squeaky

the hellscape semi’s red backlighting and its skeleton’s red eyes

I like Linette’s glossy bomber!

the trucker who’s about to kill her can’t also be the Trash Bag Killer….truckers have to stick to too much of a schedule….but he could be Betty’s meandering serial

I loved this episode

NEXT WEEK: Archie brings the FBI down on some people paying their rent :(

#riverdale #i say #commentary #tropes

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