#🐉┇IC

[drachenblood]

@petrokhelidon continued from here.

𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐀𝐳𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐨 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 with remembering the names of those around him. Common or highborn alike, soldiers or priests, they’d all mattered so very little to him. For his crusade was one that could be fought alone, his would be the hand that would slay Nidhogg and thus would he have his vengeance. That in felling his greatest foe would it also end a centuries long war was but a consequence of his true desire.

How he’s changed now, that he no longer has to try and remember people. That the lives that cross his path are as important as those who’ve stood by his side. He remembers well this Arenvald, for however little he’s spoken to the youth. How could he not when Alphinaud’s talked his ear off, boasting of his adventures with him  at length. How Fordola speaks of him now, the nigh fond derision that he hears in her voice, it reminds him of the way he speaks of Aymeric and Haurchefant both. The exasperation coupled with affection.

Unseen, he raises an eyebrow. Best not to mention it lest he wants his head lopped from his shoulders. For all he knows he might be reading too much into this and thinking too closely of his own companions. Time away has made him grown overfond and sentimental. Enough so that stray mentions of the two have increased in frequency going by the way the scions have teased him about it.

���Blame the company I keep these days.” He shrugs, though for how he may jest, his expression grows serious. “Yet if not for the actions of Alphinaud and the Warrior of Light, of their faith in me, might I still have been the thrall of a vengeful wyrm. That they had faith in me is why I fight. For them and for their dream. Those like Arenvald and Alphinaud are better than us in a way, they’ve no need for such reasons to drive their cause. They fight as they’re good people and mayhap something of Arevald’s faith in you is why you try so hard now.”

Elsewise why would she struggle as she does, when she speaks of the empire as she does now. “The same Empire that abandoned you and would execute you for a traitor for your failures, no doubt.” ‘Tis not the first he’s heard others praise what many would espouse of evil and oppressive. Even having become a turncoat did Gaius still harbor an overwhelming love for his nation. “What then? If I were to somehow break that collar of yours, would you go back to that Empire of yours? Is that where you loyalty stands now?”

[valtsv]

i think it's so so so great that beating someone up can actually injure and scar you. like from a symbolic perspective. every act of violence leaves a mark on you, chipping away at you with each blow until you're nothing but hard muscle and sharp edges. the hurt you visit on others shapes you in its image.

[taniatas]

[draconicfool]

It's the middle of the night. That's the first thing that goes through his mind at the knock. That it's the middle of the night and he's tired.

But he's told people before to bother him if they need him. Even at this late hour. But what greets him isn't a familiar face but a stranger.

The small doctor standing in the door on his fluffy robe. Staring for a moment. Processing. The planet has opened so recently it's only natural some ships just weren't ready for the weather. But all the same it's like a prickle on the back of his neck. A warning. Not that he knows why. It just feels off. Adjusting his tone a bit, he'd look the other over before turning his head for a moment. Back towards his room.

"Oh- hang on a tick, sugar-. Let me go get dressed and I'll come, okay?" And he shuts the door for a moment. Actually intending to get dressed. But along with that, he stows his mask into his jacket and goes back to the door. A soft smile plastered on his features. "Lead th' way~."

@xianzhou-craftsman || c.

[houroftheowl]

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

my entry for the unburnt: journey of the mother of dragons collaboration. all other works can be found on tumblr, twitter, and bluesky, hosted by @mursartifice

[bohemian-nights]

And the sheep she fed to Sheepstealer to bind him to her...how would she have come by those, if not by lifting her skirts for some shepherd?

[drachenblood]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐧 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐨𝐧, reminiscent in a way of how the skies bled in the crisis of the Final Days. Yet now is it absent the raining fire, absent the blasphemies born amidst despair. There is only a peace that settles far more comfortably across Thavnair than it does across his shoulders. He’s still unused to peace, still unsure of what to do with himself without a lance in hand and the weight of his armor wrapped tight and protective about him. For in the oppressive heat of these lands has he eschewed Iceheart for something more loose and comfortable and well does he feel too exposed. Even in the dimming light of sunset are his scales too noticeable.

His footsteps are light when he approaches, though no doubt has she heard him when he’s made no attempts to conceal his presence. ‘Twas too easy to find her, thus leading him to believe she might very well have been waiting for him. “Hiding again, are we.” He settles on a stone beside her, the chill of her presence a relief against the heat. Does she feel it as he does, does it affect her worse? He’s always wanted to ask since stepping foot here. “The others had thought you fled already.” / @akhafah

[drachenblood]

𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐧’𝐬 𝐧𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐧𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫. ‘Tis impossible not to – not when the boy who follows him as a second shadow possessing of a habit of talking overmuch. By now, there’s not a soul within their company he’s not had a too long lesson of their histories. Of the man who joins him now does he know of too know his deceit – old and new. Too many chances given, in his opinion. One too many, much less a second. Though ‘tis the difference between he and the rest of the Scions and their ardent belief in that there lies more within a person’s heart, even the wretched sort undeserving of such faith.

Knowing this, does he raise an eyebrow at such truths laid bare. A rather vulnerable confession and certainly not one he’s heard afore. Certainly not in Ishgard, where even the most hopeful and naïve sort would be loathe to unveil their hearts for all to see. “You… wish for us to be friends.” The raised eyebrow has yet to settle, so he schools his features, finding himself wistful for the days of old when he could walk about in full armor – helm included. “Hmph.” His mouth twitches in an effort to repress a mirthful smile. “Are we not such now? I’d hope so after all that we’ve seen and done together, how you’ve mended my wounds while I guarded your back. There’s naught that creates a stronger and surer bond than those forged in the chaos and flames of battle.” For a certainty would he call Urianger a friend now, sordid history or not.

Ah, woe! The entire endeavour has been revealed as fruitless. Only now does Urianger remember that just because the inner core of the Scions used to be comprised entirely of enthusiastic students, that is no longer quite the case. There are now those whose studies were all of the practical sort. Not to imply Urianger thinks any less of those who are not Archons!

Just that he now realizes himself completely lost upriver. This entire stream of thought flickers over his face before settling on something a little bit short of crestfallen. “Ah. Then I shall be forthwith direct. It has been some many years since last I was able to befriend a fellow elezen mine own age and I fear I have entirely too little certainty how one befriends another if not sharing studies.” By which he means he has made almost zero friends who aren’t the Warrior of Light without using knowledge offerings as an opener. He is embarrassed looking somewhere over Estinien’s shoulder while elaborating this, gesturing vaguely.

[valtsv]

my top tip for surviving any roleplaying community is to understand the golden rules "in character =/= out of character" and "RP boundaries can and should be negotiated ahead of playtime, and can always be renegotiated" and stick to them. which means that "a character's behaviour, and the ways they interact with other characters, do not mean that the player harbours any of those sentiments unless expressed otherwise out of character" but also "all players have a right to express discomfort or dissatisfaction with the ways we're interacting through the medium of our characters, and you should not react defensively or dismiss anyone else's concerns just because it 'isn't real'".

[draconicfool]

"Anton-." There's a small huff as he's taken down with the other's arm around him. Features a light red as his tail wraps around his leg. Just looking up at the other as he hides himself slightly in that much too big collar of his sweater. "S' m' job, y'don't have t' pay me back-." Not to mention such a thing would have him feeling very awkward. Even as those clawed fingers push together. Purple eyes darting away quickly. "Jus' buy me a drink or somethin' later."

@belobogbro || c.

[joelletwo]

Here's a dumb one. G7 Sugi.

[ID: gintama fanart of takasugi drawn for an expression prompt of sticking a tongue out with big shiny excited eyes. he is drawn boredly and slouchedly eating ice cream from a spoon, then lighting up when he tastes it]

really challenged me to think about what a happy sugi could possibly look like lol THANK u

[drachenblood]

𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐑𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐭, do the people of Thavnair train their soldiers well. They want not of discipline even if to his sharp and keen eyes does he espy a man bestruck by stars in the presence of the Warrior of Light. He stands at a distance, gaze to the view of the markets as he listens, mouth turned to a tight line though there is amusement that stirs beneath a mask he wears well.

Much of Meghaduta is more open walls cordoned by mere swaths of colorful silks than actual windows, an architectural decision made with the sweltering heat in mind and one is he full glad for given that the nights are no less balmy, still does he think of how easy ‘twould be for an assassin to slip in unnoticed for the many points of entry. ‘Tis a blessing for these people that their satrap is no easy mark.

“I’ve naught else to do lest these whelps decide to drag me off to another round of training.” He snorts as he heads for the exit. For how Vrtra had entreated him to mentor his guards does it still rankle how much like his old master he has become in training. Though not even under pain of death would he admit such to Alberic elsewise he’ll not hear the end of it.

“If this hunt yields naught but mere bandits ‘twill be but a diversion and less of a burden to Vrtra’s people and thus still worthy our of attention.” With how tirelessly the alchemists slave in their research into the void, he’d not have them hounded by interlopers. He’d made a promise to the wyrm after all, to all of dragonkind in truth. And to allow such work to be disturbed is to foreswear such vows. “‘Twas by Palaka’s Stand that these cravens are most active, no? Then let us be off.”

⸻ ♞ The two of them were similar. They had met when both of their hearts were devoured by rage and hatred. At the time, Roi had barely survived the loss of the scions. There had been a darkness within him, growing and festering. He fought with it, indulged in it, and drowned in it. Roi had been a mess, likely more lost in his resentment and anger than even Estinien knew. The way he smoldered under the surface, only a handful of people got to see.

Even at the time, he wouldn't have called them friends. Allies, perhaps, but Roi had his walls too high. He, as always, only realized how much he cared about the other after he had lost his body to Nidhogg. When he swore to never lose another person, he promised himself and Alphinaud that he would save him no matter what. And right now, next to a friend and ally that Roi had been to hell and back with, he is so thankful for Alphinaud for giving him the hope and strength to attempt to free the man from the hold of the Eye.

"I suppose it is better than them coming to you for every issue. Though I would find it annoying to be kept in the dark." Roi comments before looking at the guards. With a nod to Estinien, he approaches one of them.

Upon speaking with the guard, the only thing confirmed is the information he already had. That someone or something is causing havoc for merchants. The inclusion of someone in the possibility made him wonder if it was just bandits. While that should be a relief, it was also a little disappointing.

Once he finished speaking with them, he returned to Estinien. "Is this something you want to pursue? Even if it is merely bandits, I would prefer to see if there is any way to resolve the situation. Many places here are still rebuilding. They need to be able to receive food and medicine." Roi was not the sort to let a problem go unsolved, much to his own frustration towards himself. "But I understand if you would rather remain here for something potentially boring."

@drachenblood

[daenysthedreamer101]

favorite characters??

Hello, lovely 💕

You didn't specify which franchise but I'm gonna assume you mean ASOIAF.

In GOT definitely Dany. Not to sound like Jon lol but she is my Queen and I absolutely adore her. She is beautiful, smart, strong and just cool lol. (I will never get over s8)

In HOTD, it's harder to say. Definitely team black but I really am interested by Aemond and how his story will unfold. Obviously Rhaenyra is my Queen, love her and I totally support her. Also Daemon is just really amusing to watch 😭

But also the dragons lol they might be my favorite characters.

There are many other charactes in asoiaf I love (robb, margaery, oberyn, ser barristan) but Targs are my faves.

(Is it obvious I'm a Targ supporter/loyalist lol?🔥🐉)

[twilightssparkle]

Rarity 💚

[drachenblood]

“A little bird’s told me you’ve been to see the children.” Mayhap more than a single bird for the orphanage was always a flutter with excitement, ready to natter on about this or that each time he’s managed to visit. Thus far have the children been ever eager to speak of this woman and her time there. ‘Tis an odd thought and he can ill imagine one such as Zero indulging in their games, yet more than one child has attested to this fact. A failure of imagination does little to stem his amusement, a corner of his mouth quirking upwards as he regards the other woman. “Never took you for the sort to have such a soft heart.” / @confluxium

[drachenblood]

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐢𝐝 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐲 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐲 has she given him all he need know. Though to say as much would further earn her ire, but is there some measure of amusement when well is he versed in this language she speaks. For still does he employ it now. If she thought him bad then he’d pay to see her spend an afternoon or two in the company of the Scions – the Little Lord especially. Or mayhap ‘tis best to keep her away from the boy when like would he return to the Rising Stones or wherever else they’ve got themselves holed up and find a slaughter on his hands, this girl living up to the appellation tied tight ‘bout her shoulders.

Wyrmblood he’d been called, for how much of it he’d spilt. Once a name he’d born with pride, then with shame come the closing of the war, when all truths had been lain bare and now once more is it his to claim. For ‘tis the name the dragons would give him too. Wyrmblood now, for what he shares with them, those who have become his kin. But with the Butcher, is there not like to be such a story to be found, no absolution from the people she’s terrorized – her people, if such is how she would see them. Like as not if he were to ask now that would her denial be vehement.

“Tell me, what sordid stories have you heard of my homeland?” Stories of the endless cold no doubt, and would it all be true. “You’ve lived all your life in such blistering climes as this, think you’ve the mettle the handle the the frost-rimed hellscape of Coerthas?” She’s as sublte as a rampaging bull in this heavy handed change of talk, but he may as well squeeze blood from stone for all that he was getting out of her regardless. And he’d not have her ready to take her blade to his throat for pressing to hard. Fury, still he wonders of the madness that’d taken him for this scheme, what foul airs must he have inhaled to addle his brain so to think he could render aid to a woman as willing to accept his hand as a feral mongrel would to a stranger.

“We make for Dravania, ancient land of the dragons. Once eternal foe of my people, now our uncertain allies. A peace won through much hardship and loss, but a peace nonetheless. A thousand years of suffering brought to an end and I would see that it remains so, no matter what it may take of me.” At this he chances a glance at his companion, still so tense atop her chocobo. “What do you know of dragons?”

Was it faith or pride that had her follow Arenvald? That made herself subject to this collar, try so bloody hard to make up for at least some of the blood on her hands, if though she knows there is no way she'll ever atone for all of it? She can still feel the hard clench of anger and dread at the very thought of Arenvald in that infirmary, playing the hero to save her of all people, like he had seen her measure and thought she was still somehow worth saving, despite the fact that she'd never asked for it. Does that make her loyal to him, then? Or simply in debt?

She huffs out a frustrated breath at her circling thoughts, a calloused hand lifting to pinch the bridge of her nose. Gods, did he ever shut up? If this was what happened when hanging out for too long with that little ragtag band of heroes━

" What does it matter? " Fordola finally finds her voice anew, tight and low as it may be. Green hues open, fixing a hard stare 'pon the dragoon now riding at level with her. " If the rumours are true, there is naught left to go back to even if I could. " Even if part of her would, still, after everything. If only to see the truth of it with her own eyes. To find if there was still anyone left, that she wasn't entirely alone in this, even if she herself had a hand in killing her━

" I've made my bed. I'll live with the consequences, " Her tone has a note of finality, underlined by a warning in her gaze for Estinien not to push any further. The Empire, her motivations, her choices, they are all a convoluted mess of contradictions and emotional turmoil that spawns a low head ache behind her eyes even just trying to think of it, let alone being pushed to talk about it. Arenvald has tried many times, earnest and optimistic as he always is and yet she still cannot trust herself to attempt to untangle all of it.

That she now has this dragoon try and do the same out of some misbegotten sense of kinship━

Laughable. She's not worth that either.

" What should I be aware of, where we're going? " She switches tack, the change of subject somewhat hard-handed, but if he's so determined to talk she'd rather focus on what's ahead rather than have him play the mind-healer.