#Dragonlore

[greenbloods]

dragon intraspecies variation. vhagar and balerion are classic medievalist fantasy european dragons but seasmoke and dreamfyre--more associated with motifs of water--are chinese dragons.

[dragon-lore]

Cuuuute

Pet Dragon

[jordankbowers]

The Dragon’s Bloom Long ago, in a forgotten forest nestled between towering mountains, a legendary dragon named Kaelthar slumbered beneath the roots of an ancient tree. His scales shimmered like turquoise waves, his golden horns gleamed under the moonlight, and his power was whispered through the wind. For centuries, he had guarded the forest, ensuring harmony between nature and the mystical forces that flowed through the earth. However, his once peaceful home had fallen into desolation, and the land cried out for healing. One fateful day, the forest's flowers began to wither, their colors fading into lifeless grays. The sunflowers, symbols of the forest's vitality, drooped their heads in sorrow. Seeing this, the spirits of the forest awakened Kaelthar with a soft whisper in the wind. As he emerged, his serpentine body uncoiled, and the forest shivered with hope. But Kaelthar saw that his strength alone would not be enough to restore balance. He needed to fuse his magic with nature’s resilience. Kaelthar reached deep into the heart of the earth with his talons, pulling forth ancient roots and infusing them with his life force. From the roots grew towering sunflowers, vibrant and golden, each petal glowing with Kaelthar’s magic. These flowers would stand as guardians, their seeds carrying whispers of renewal across the forest. Where they landed, new life would sprout, and harmony would be restored. But Kaelthar did not stop there. He weaved a spell that allowed flowers to bloom on his very scales—sunflowers, wild blossoms, and delicate tendrils. These blooms represented a pact: he and nature were now one. No longer merely a dragon of the forest, he became its living, breathing heart. Every movement sent petals floating into the wind, scattering life wherever they touched. Villagers who ventured into the forest spoke of seeing a great turquoise dragon, draped in flowers and crowned by sunflowers, rising from the earth. They called him the Blooming Serpent, a reminder that even the fiercest of guardians could bring life, not just fire. And so, Kaelthar became a legend, a symbol of resilience and rebirth. His flowers flourished where darkness once crept, and his spirit danced in the wind, whispering an eternal truth: even the most ancient dragons could choose to bloom.

[yudacquel1961blog]

[visionproductions2008]

Unleashing the legends: A global journey through the mystique and power of dragons 🐉✨ Explore these digital art pieces, where East meets West, and fantasy transcends borders. Each dragon tells a story of its origin—majestic, fierce, and awe-inspiring. 🌍🔥

[kazukibassani]

🧩✨Peça por peça, quem mais aí é fã de dragões? 🐉

[cuma-lee]

Morzak, the Crimson Horror

Buy from this link: https://www.deviantart.com/cumalee/art/Morzak-the-Crimson-Horror-Open-for-Adoptation-1063572974

[dragon-lore]

Tag References

Main tags

#dragonlore - links to blog

#dragonfact - links to facts

#dragonart - links to art

#popdragon - pop culture dragons

#mythdragon - dragons from mythology

#dragonstory - links to tales

#dragonhistory - links to historical facts lore or art

#dragonmemes - memes about dragons

#dragoncomic - comics about dragons

#cutedragon - cute dragons

#dragonpolls - polls with or about dragons

I will update this regularly as more posts get added and expand the catalogue. I'm super committed now but we'll see how far I can keep this up hahaha.

[plugoarts]

When asked of the great wisdom of dragons, the Celestial Dragon Cai Mo (采墨) replied "The truth is that people are unwise, not that dragons are truly wise." Detail of Wrestling Dragons- ink on a treated skate deck. #penandink #indiaink #skatedeck #skateboardart #atigerstale #kickstarter #kungfu #countdown #lunarnewyear #wuxia #illustration #dragon #chinesedragon #fantasyart #blackandwhiteart #dragonlore #mythology https://www.instagram.com/p/Cm13aCypTcQ/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[whydon-twego]

Merlin remembers the flat, emerald-green hills when the sun rose and caressed his skin, warming it after the cold winter nights.

He remembers the festivals, the barefoot dances in the earth, he remembers the laughter, the children playing happily at their parents' feet, and the smiling faces of the old people exchanging stories in front of the fire.

He remembers the nights of the full moon when they would all gather in a circle around the fire to talk about the day, to exchange advice, to tell horror stories to strike fear into the children who never had to stray too far or they would never return home.

And then remember when the horror really happened.

Merlin opens his eyes and sees no green hills but only wreckage and blood covering the ground.

He sees bodies of people he has known for years lying on the ground with wide, terrified eyes staring straight into the void.

He sees death.

And his heart weeps and bleeds for his people who are now gone.

"Emrys, what shall we do?"

Merlin twitches his lips at that title but says nothing about it, the few surviving people trust him and he already has too many deaths on his conscience, he is not worthy of the title of Emrys.

"Uther Pendragon has made his decision tonight. And he will suffer the consequences. Aithusa!" The dragon, who was resting after the journey she had made with Merlin, got up and went to her master, who stroked her muzzle and looked at her with sad eyes.

"We have one more journey to make, my friend."

"Emrys, you cannot go alone!"

Merlin turns to the few remaining people and feels his heart clench in a vice.

He will avenge them.

He will avenge them all.

"Not a house will stand in Camelot, not a single road will be remembered to lead to that cursed place, and not a single arch will stand of that damned castle. I cannot afford to take you with me."

His mother always told him that death only brings death. But his mother is no longer there because Uther Pendragon has decided that druids and magic holders are dangerous people. So there is no one left to stop him and Merlin has no intention of being stopped.

The war has begun.

[godseyeaemond]

"Rivals saw their flight as an act of surrender, as cowardice. But Lord Aenar's maiden daughter Daenys- known forever after as Daenys the Dreamer- had forseen the destruction of Valyria by fire. What isn't widely known, however, is that Daenys had claimed Balerion- at the time no bigger than a horse- the night before her fateful dream." - A book shown off in The House That Dragons Built S2E1

[gammadoppler]

many counter strike weapon skin urls are untaken im finding out right now

[novaursa]

Unseen Fires (embers)

- Summary: He loved you as long he knew how. And you never noticed it.

- Paring: sister!reader/Aemond Targaryen

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Previous part: 1

- Next part: the price

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

The sun shone bright on the training yard of the Red Keep, its rays glinting off the polished swords and steel armor of the knights that trained there. Aemond watched them from a distance, but his focus wasn’t on the clashing of swords or the stern commands of the masters-at-arms. It was on you.

You, with your radiant smile and laughter, the sound of it carried on the wind. You stood by the edge of the training yard, applauding as Ser Harwin Strong demonstrated a move with his blade. The knight grinned at you, offering a playful wink, and your laughter rang out even louder. It was as if the sun shone brighter around you, the warmth of your presence radiating outward.

Aemond’s chest tightened, a pang of something sharp and bitter twisting inside him. He was barely ten years old, but the feeling was new and unwelcome—like a knife hidden beneath layers of velvet. It wasn’t just the jealousy, though that burned fiercely enough. It was the realization that he wanted something from you that he could not yet name.

He clenched his small fists, nails digging into the palms until they hurt. He wanted to stride over and draw your attention away from Ser Harwin, to remind you that he was your brother, that he was the one who knew you best. But even then, he knew it would be foolish. He was too small, too young, too insignificant next to the brawny knight who seemed to have captured your attention so effortlessly.

And so, he watched in silence, biting back the hurt that swelled within him, swallowing it down like bitter medicine. He told himself it didn’t matter, that he would grow stronger, better. Perhaps then you’d look at him the way you looked at others.

Years passed, and Aemond grew taller, stronger, but that familiar ache in his chest only deepened. He began training relentlessly, pushing himself to the brink of exhaustion, desperate to become worthy of your notice. He studied histories and swordsmanship with equal fervor, each swing of his blade fueled by the thought that one day, you might look at him and see something more than a brother.

But it always came back to the same thing.

You were always kind to him, always patient, but your gaze was filled with the warmth of a sister, the gentle affection of family. You ruffled his hair when he spoke of his lessons, laughed softly when he tried to show off with his knowledge of dragonlore. And though your smiles were precious to him, they weren’t the ones he yearned for.

One summer afternoon, when the gardens of the Red Keep were lush and green, Viserys had thrown a feast for the visiting lords of the realm. You moved through the gathering with a grace that left everyone in awe, your laughter like music drifting through the air. Aemond watched as a young lord—a son of the Riverlands—leaned close to whisper in your ear. You blushed at his words, and Aemond’s gut twisted sharply.

His fists clenched at his sides, knuckles white as he tried to focus on the wine in his cup instead of the sight of you with that boy. He felt like an outsider in his own home, watching as you exchanged pleasantries, smiling with that shy look he had never seen before. The jealousy churned inside him, turning his thoughts dark. Why did you smile like that for him? Why did you lean in closer when he whispered something that made you laugh softly, your cheeks flushed?

Aemond had been prepared to endure the torment, as he always did, but when the boy touched your arm, guiding you closer toward the lantern-lit alcoves of the garden, he couldn’t bear it any longer. He abandoned his cup, moving swiftly through the throng of lords and ladies, reaching you just as the young lord’s hand lingered on yours.

“Sister,” Aemond interrupted, his voice tighter than he intended. “Father asked for you.”

You blinked, glancing up at Aemond in surprise. There was a question in your eyes, but you nodded, slipping your hand away from the young lord’s grasp. Aemond relished the brief flicker of disappointment in the other boy’s eyes, but he hated the confusion in yours even more. As he led you away, he could feel the weight of your gaze on him.

“Aemond, Father did not ask for me,” you pointed out, amusement lacing your voice as you glanced back toward the gardens. “What was that about?”

He had no words, no excuse that could explain the fierce possessiveness that had driven him to interrupt. He simply shrugged, his expression carefully blank, trying to mask the turmoil inside him. You only laughed, shaking your head, as if it were another one of his childish quirks. As if you couldn’t possibly see the truth beneath the surface.

He had thought it would get easier with time. That maybe the feelings would fade as he grew older, as you drifted further into your role as a noble daughter of House Targaryen. But it only grew worse, more painful, as you continued to shine brighter in the court, drawing attention from every corner of the realm.

Aemond stood beside you in council meetings, listening to the lords and knights praise your grace, your wit, your beauty. He watched them bow over your hand, their eyes lingering a moment too long, their words too soft. And each time, the bitter jealousy in his chest flared hotter, like dragonfire burning through his veins.

He hated it. Hated the way he felt so small, so powerless to change your view of him. Hated that every smile you offered to another man felt like a knife twisting deeper into his heart. But more than anything, he hated himself for wishing for something that he could never have.

It was during one of these moments—when you were dancing with a handsome young lord at a feast in the Great Hall—that Aegon, always perceptive in his own twisted way, sidled up beside Aemond, a smirk playing on his lips.

“You’re like a moth, brother,” Aegon drawled, taking a long sip of wine. “Always circling her flame, hoping not to get burned.”

Aemond’s jaw clenched, but he said nothing. He couldn’t, not with the truth so dangerously close to the surface. Aegon laughed, the sound harsh in Aemond’s ears.

“She’ll never see it, you know,” Aegon continued, leaning in closer, his voice a mocking whisper. “She’ll always think of you as her little brother. How does it feel, hm?”

Aemond forced himself to swallow the bitterness, the anger that simmered just beneath his skin. He turned away, focusing on the distant music, on the way you laughed with your dance partner. He couldn’t let Aegon see how deep the words cut, how much truth they held. Instead, he clung to the hope that one day, things might be different.

But deep down, a part of him knew that Aegon was right.

The realization came to him fully on a night when you were ill, confined to your chambers with a fever that kept you in bed for days. Aemond had barely left your side, reading to you, bringing you water, anything he could think of to ease your discomfort. And in those quiet, shadowed hours, he had watched you sleep, watched the gentle rise and fall of your breath, and felt a longing so deep it nearly broke him.

He loved you. Fiercely, desperately, with a need that consumed him. But he also knew that it would never be enough. That you would never see him the way he saw you, would never understand the depth of his feelings. He was your brother, nothing more.

And as he sat there in the darkness of your chamber, listening to the distant echoes of the Red Keep, Aemond let the ache settle in his chest like an old wound. He would endure it, just as he always had. He would continue to fight for your attention, for your approval, even if it meant living with the knowledge that you could never truly be his.

But in the depths of his heart, a flicker of hope remained—a hope that perhaps, one day, you might see him. And until then, he would carry the weight of his love in silence, hiding it beneath the mask he wore for the world.

[livingshad0w]

I’m back hi hello!! I am going to attempt to put this all under a read more so i dont blow up somebody’s dashboard

This AU is set (mostly) within these two large neighboring kingdoms that have been mostly indifferent to one another, but tensions have grown a lot between them in recent years. Mostly things like border disputes, but every once in a while bigger incidents happen—though their leaders are usually pretty good at smoothing things over enough to prevent all-out war.

Risen still exist in this AU, since it wouldn’t be Destiny without them. They do still have to die and be resurrected by a Ghost (losing their memories in the process), but instead of being machines the Ghosts are more like small fae creatures that take a “favorite” form. For example, my Hunter Zanne’s Ghost takes the form of a hummingbird, while another OC of mine has a hare!

The Guardian nation is governed by the Consensus, rather than a single ruler, with representatives from each major faction (such as New Monarchy, Dead Orbit, and even the Iron Lords). Their primary goal, above all, is to protect the Traveler, the source of Light in the realm. Not every person in the kingdom is Risen, nor is every Risen a Guardian. The Warlords exist as well, but they are held to the Iron Lords’ standards, and are dealt with accordingly if they’re caught acting out of line.

The Awoken kingdom, naturally ruled by Queen Mara, follows a different belief system, as they are ever stretching skyward in an attempt to reach their former home in the heavens. As such, their cities tend to stand very tall when compared to those of the Kingdom of Light. The central city of the kingdom, Rheasilvia, is home to the palace of the queen and her royal knights, the Corsairs. Recruits train in the academy for most of their young adult lives to be granted the honor of being named a Corsair, and be given the privilege of riding their dragon in their Queen’s name. There are still a lot of citizens who do not have dragon partners, of course, but the riders are viewed in rather high esteem by those who are stuck on the ground. The Kingdom of Dusk do also have Risen of their own, though they do not associate with the Traveler or its Guardians, and go by the name of Lightborne instead.

The dragons that have entwined their lives with those of the Awoken call themselves the Ahamkara. Ahamkara are a regal and enigmatic species, and no two are alike. Any attempt to label them by subspecies has ultimately ended in failure as a result of that. Some Ahamkara are capable of shapeshifting, though they often find a favorite form and stick to that. They are known to be distantly related to a different, more powerful kind of dragon, known only as the Wyrm Gods. The Ahamkara that live amongst the Awoken turned away from following the great Wyrms, choosing instead to find their own paths. Many of the Wyrms did not take kindly to this abandonment and have trained their new followers’ sights on the Ahamkara and their allies.

When Mara and Uldren Sov were younger, their partner Ahamkara were a bonded pair of twins just like them. Uldren’s dragon Ager was killed in an accident long ago, which led in turn to Mara’s Rega dying soon after. Of grief, they told the people, but the royal family knew the truth. And while Uldren never chose a new partner, the Queen took up arms with another dragon from far away—an ancient Ahamkara named Riven. Riven helped to guide their kingdom to the prosperity that it enjoys today, though her motives aren’t always clear; she pays loyalty not only to the great Queen of the Awoken, but also to the mysterious King Auryx and the Witch Queen Sathona—each unbeknownst to the other, of course.

The Eliksni are mostly unchanged, besides the necessary “nobody goes to space” thing. Their bodies are build a little heavier, since they don’t have to worry about zero-gravity environments. Their homes were lost in the Whirlwind, and so now they travel the realm in clans looking for a new place to settle. They’re kind of like classical artificers, always repairing upgrading their vessels—air and sea ships, in this world. House Light is already living in the Kingdom of Light, but they aren’t in the central city!

I have taken more liberties with the Cabal. They are dragons, though rather than the large, lithe figures that most Ahamkara cut, the Uluran are wide-set, stocky, muscular creatures that carved out new homes anywhere they could sink their claws into after their homeland was razed by the Wyrmcult. While winged, their heavy build means they don’t tend to do much more than leaps and glides, as much of their original territory was mountainous. They absolutely do not take riders.

An Uluran’s battle prowess is measured by the number of scars in their thick hide, and their longevity by the length of their tusks. They still stand approximately the same height as their in-game counterparts, in comparison to a human. They paint their scales to denote their allegiances, such as Ghaul’s bloody crimson, Caiatl’s proud blue, or Calus’s lavish gold. The Shadow Legion in this case wears no paint at all.

The zealous new followers of the Wyrm Gods, the Wyrmcult (or the Hive) are an uplifted species from a realm entirely separate from the Kingdoms of Light and Dusk. Not satisfied with their dominion over the extraplanar, they now serve as the great Wyrms’ own swords in their efforts to conquer all the realms. While originally their kind were very insectoid in form, over the ages their devotion to the great Wyrms has molded them into something altogether new. Their three great leaders, King Auryx, Witch Sathona, and Blade Xi Ro are the best examples of this, each of them taking on varying degrees of draconic features.

Auryx, for example, has grown wide, intimidating horns and large scaled wings that cut a frightening figure for those caught in the blaze of his conquests. Sathona, too, is carried by two vast pairs of wings, though hers are much sleeker, and her horns much more regal, befitting of one who has learned the arcane arts of the Ahamkara. Xi Ro, the youngest of them, chose instead to toughen her hide and sharpen her claws, that she might break any blade turned against her, and shatter her foes in turn. Warfare is her craft, and battle her lifestyle.

Victims of Auryx’s sword-cuts across the realms, bathed in the scorching dragonfire stolen from his masters, follow in the wake of the Wyrmcult anywhere that they ravage. Their bodies have been seared black, trailing dark smoke wherever they go, while the stronger creatures among them still seethe with the flames that Took them. The color of those flames varies depending on which entity it was that did them in, with Auryx’s Taken carrying deep emerald green flames, while Sathona’s are more purple, and Xi Ro’s crimson. (The Witness’ Taken are bathed in white flame, entirely different from the dragonfire. If you look closely at it, it’s almost lowercase-p prismatic, showing in different colors on every angle.)

I think that was everything I had so far? I’m open to asks about particular details if people are curious! I’ll inevitably rb again if i realize i missed something big, so.

I know the general mood around Destiny is kind of super low right now but would anyone be interested in hearing about a dragon-riders au ive been tossing around

[cuma-lee]

Irradrax, the Radiant Scourge

Buy from this link: