#Heralds of the sun

[grizguts]

A gift for my VtM Coterie, of our characters we play in our 'Fall of London' Chronical that we'll be ending soon and picking up our sequel second game with new characters, which follows the aftermath of what these goobers - sorry "Heralds of the Sun" got up to.

From left to right;

Mila, of clan Ravnos ( @diableriedoll on Insta, Tumblr & Twitter )

Mr. Bertram Davenport, of clan Ventrue ( Nathan - Mr.EnthralledYet )

Gwen, of clan Gangrel ( myself )

Dizzy, of clan Malkavian ( @EnthralledYet on Insta, Twitter, ArtStation & her website! )

Not gonna lie, I think I'm going to really miss my Gwen, my traumatised lil' feral fighter lol. If you'd like to know more about her, you can read the backstory I gave her here;

Gwen's Backstory

[coline7373]

"For Life and Light."

Pffffiuuuuu... I didn't thought I would finish it in time but I did! *fist pump*

Just in time to thank the @codywanfirstkissbingo 's mods for such lovely prompts and to wish everyone a very merry Christmas and/or Winter's Holidays!!!!!!!!!

Big love sent to everyone!!!

💖❄🎄💖🌞💖🎄❄💖

[pplaguedecay]

souls-ring fanart sketches

[austinslounge]

Link

"The camera doesn’t just love the fella. It has designs in mind that are simply too impolite to be mentioned here."

Where's the lie?? Seriously! 😅

[hywl]

ragnarök

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

For the Eönwë Week prompts:

💋 A knight's kiss with Eönwë/Gothmog, Eönwë/Manwë or Eönwë/Arien (your choice :))

Alternatively, if this one's taken: 🎀 Seeking a favor with the same ships

Thank you!🤗

How about both prompts, and for all three ships?

Day 7 for @eonweweek

Prompt: Freeform.

Pairings: Eönwë/Gothmog | Eönwë/Manwë | Eönwë/Arien

A/n 1: Since today is freeform, I have opted to use a little Medieval AU emoji game.

A/n 2: For those who want to know more about my Medieval AU read here.

Themes: Soft | NSFT

Warnings: Kissing | Mild violence (blink and you might miss it)

Minors DNI

💋A knight's kiss with Eönwë/Gothmog, Eönwë/Manwë or Eönwë/Arien

Eönwë/Gothmog : The great feast held in honor of Melkor’s anointing as Crown Prince ends.

Eönwë and Gothmog go off to the gardens to sit on the grass and watch the stars while many others walk or stumble to their own bedchambers. 

Most consider them to be a most unusual pairing. Eönwë is a true-born lord from a proud and ancient noble family. Gothmog, on the other hand, is lowborn, with no father to claim him for their own. In addition, Eönwë is the Lord Commander of the King’s army and a knight without peer, and Gothmog is a mere foot soldier who prefers brute strength to finesse. 

And these things do not matter to Eönwë, for he does not care for birth or wealth or position. Gothmog loves him, and that is enough for him. And when they kiss, it is beneath the stars, with the wind sweeping through their hair. Eönwë does what comes naturally to him: he willingly yields when they kiss, allowing Gothmog to take a firmer hand as always. It is another thing many consider most peculiar: a great knight willingly submitting to one of inferior birth, and yet, it is what Eönwë desires and what he receives. 

They kiss, and they kiss. Eönwë savors the wine and the spices he finds clinging to his companion’s lips and the sweetness of the marchpane roses they all had. Then he pulls away, desiring more than just a kiss.  “Let us return to our chambers,” he says, his smile a mirror image of Gothmog’s own. “This night is far from over, my love.” 

Eönwë/Manwë : The prince never thought he would receive the affections of such an illustrious warrior. 

And yet, he finds himself the recipient of much of the Lord Commander's affections. They dance during the feast to celebrate the end of a successful royal hunt, and they talk and they laugh. The others are also dancing, and there is much music, and wine, and laughter. Eönwë pays no heed to any of it. He is too drunk on the magic of the night to care about what the others are doing. 

And, he knew, of course, that there could be more to this night. So much more. 

“Come with me, my prince,” he says, leading Manwë away from the others. “There should be more to this night than feasting and dancing.” 

They walk, and they walk, and then they come upon a little grove of trees bathed in starlight. They walk on, not stopping until they reach the very center of the grove. It is a beautiful sight: the cloudless sky, the stately trees, the dappled light, and the bashful prince who smiles expectantly. Eönwë seizes the moment and leans in, his mood high.

It was all he thought it would be and so much more. He gathers the prince in his arms as they kiss, relishing the warmth that flows into his mouth. He kisses the prince until they are both feverish and breathless, and then he kisses him until he feels, more than hears, the soft moan.

“Your tent or mine, my prince?” He asks. 

Eönwë/Arien : He is at his investiture at Starfall, where he is anointed as an Honorary Knight of the Grove.  

It is a great honor, one the Lady of Greengrove does not bestow lightly. And the one presiding over the ceremony in the place of that great lady is none other than his own beloved herself.

Eönwë kneels on a wide velvet cushion, trembling despite the warmth from nearby lit hearths. He remembers the cause for such an honor. Nevertheless, he tries his best not to dwell on it. Arien is safe and well, and that is enough for him.

The tip of a splendid sword forged especially for the occasion briefly comes to rest on his right shoulder and then his left. Then it is over, for the priest has already performed the anointing.

“Arise, Lord Eönwë, Knight of the Grove!” Arien cries, and gives the sword for another to take. It would be formally presented to Eönwë later, during the investiture feast. “And tell me, what boon does my savior desire of me?”

“A kiss from the one I love,” Eönwë says bashfully, then he rises. “That is all I ask.”

Arien smiles and says, “A gift I shall give freely, and with a glad heart.”

Eönwë smiles also. He frames her face with his hands and kisses her sweetly, sending a welcome shiver down her spine. 

🎀Seeking a favor with the same ships

Eönwë/Gothmog: It is his first joust of the tourney. Eönwë digs his heels into his steed and urges it toward the gallery.

Many had gathered to watch. The low-born keep to one side, shouting and cheering as the one the minstrels call “Swordsman of the Dawn” rides past them. The high-born kept to the other side, shouting and cheering for him with equal vigor.

Eönwë tilts his head at them and smiles, but his eyes do not see those shouting his name and cheering him on. His gaze seeks but one person and one person only.

“My lord,” Eönwë says. He reins his horse to a stop before the lower seats, where the foot soldiers sit. “Victory throughout the tourney would be assured if I am given the honor of your favor.”

Gothmog rises, flushing from cheek to throat. “I have no ribbon to give you, my lord,” he says, “or a priceless trinket. All I can offer you is this.”

He removes the copper pin he wears upon his cloak and offers it to the Lord Commander. Eönwë leans down and accepts it with gratitude.

“I shall keep it safe, my love,” he murmurs, bringing Gothmog’s hand to his lips.

Eönwë/Manwë : The sun was shining, and the sky was uncommonly clear. It was most suited for a joust and the one that would be spoken of for many a turn of the moon.

Lord Tulkas charges atop his black steed. Eönwë charges atop his grey and white. The throng roars, and upon the royal balcony, gold coins and priceless jewels are discreetly slipped into velvet hats and silk purses. Some believe Eönwë would emerge the victor. Others believe Tulkas would emerge victorious, for he was the older and the stronger of the two.

The warriors' horses tear up the rain-softened earth as they race to the center, and then their lances collide, cracking and splintering as they smash against heavy-plated armor.

Tulkas is unhorsed. He falls onto his back with a loud clangor, and the crowd gasps and cheers. But he is unharmed and is soon helped to his feet by a squire. Eönwë, satisfied that all is well with him, rides up to the balcony.

“My prince!” He cries. “If you would do me the honor of allowing me to wear your favor upon my person!”

Manwë appears and smiles. “Here it is, my lord,” he says, throwing down a square of richly embroidered silk to the warrior. “May you have much fortune for the remainder of the tourney.”

Eönwë catches it, winks playfully at the prince, and then rides back to the far end of the field.

Eönwë/Arien : It is the first time he sees her. 

She is seated on the balcony, listening to the ladies she serves. Her eyes gleam like finely polished amber in the sun, and her hair reminds him of molten gold. Eönwë urges his steed forward, as he wishes to know more of her. 

“Fair and gracious lady,” he says. “You have captivated me with your beauty. Pray what is your name?”

“You are a bold one, my lord,” the lady says, rising from her seat. “But you shall have my name if it please you. I am the Lady Arien.”

“Maiden of the sun,” Eönwë replies, beaming. “Tis a most fitting name, I think, for you indeed look as radiant as the sun. Tell me, my lady. Would you think me impertinent if I asked for your favor?” 

Arien smiles. “Not in the least, my lord, for I have heard much of you, and I know you are a man of honor. Here. You may have this.”

She loosens a ribbon from the end of her long braid and throws it down to him. Eönwë catches it with ease and brings it to his lips.  “I shall treasure this token always,” he says.

tags: @asianbutnotjapanese

[fazcinatingblog]

But why is there a picture of Ginni DID HIM AND TRENT BREAK UP LOVE ISN'T REAL THERE'S NO HOPE FOR ANYONE IT'S OVER NOTHING IS OKAY WE'RE ALL DOOMED

[tozettastone]

So in the 2000s and 2010s, mainstream news media in Australia began to use the phrase "Sexual Marxism," to describe the spooky scary practice of self determination as regards sex, gender and sexuality.

And very organically, I began to use the phrase "the means of reproduction," in response when I saw it. Like: "Oh, are the gender comrades seizing the means of reproduction? Again?? Nice."

It's been years since I last saw someone complain about whatever the fuck Sexual Marxism is meant to be (idk if they still use it — I don't get the sense it really caught on) but, sometimes, even now, I catch myself reading some stupid scaremongering nonsense in news media and murmuring, "oh, they are seizing the means of reproduction??" aloud to myself.

It just entered my vocabulary so very organically and never left.

[talentforlying]

constantine receiving even the Slightest bit of attention at any given time:

[echosian]

hi innocence jr

top ten co-ops @creaturevoiddweller

[trenchcrows]

Grateful every day that mother is into the more leftist articles and podcasts and ways of thinking cause. What if I made fun of those maga Australians and she got mad at me. That is a fucked up and evil alternate dimension.

[mtg-cards-hourly]

Herald of the Sun

"Fear neither clouds nor darkness. The light shall overcome them all."

Artist: Micah Epstein TCG Player Link Scryfall Link EDHREC Link

[knightscanfeeltoo]

Could you imagine Poor Oscar of Astora/Knight of the Undead Asylum having to Rank Every Women from Dark Souls in a Tier List Thing even though he didn’t wanna do this...

(also i wanted to add more women in this picture like filianore, sieglinde and the desert sorceress but some characters didn’t have transparent background and i can only put 30 hashtags anyway plus i know gwyndolin might be a feminine dude since they use he/him pronouns but they are still “malewife” enough to be with other women so why not, Right????)

[glamfellens]

now im torn if i want to multiclass as a priest of eothas or berath in deadfire,,,

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

Day: 4 @eonweweek

Prompt: Romance

Pairing: Eönwë/Arien

Themes: Epistolary form (letters) | Medieval AU

Warnings: Just two people all loved up, your honor  

Word count: 800+ words

Summary: Eönwë writes to Arien, thanking her for her gift.

Letter from Eönwë to Arien:

25th August 1453

To my most beloved Lady Arien, greetings.

Not long ago, I received your letter and your gift of a saffron ribbon richly embroidered in golden thread. It pleases me to hear of your prosperity and good health, and I accept the present that you have bestowed upon me with a glad and willing heart. If it would not offend, I will wear it upon my person whenever opportunity allows.

My lady, the continued demonstrations of your affections oblige me to love and honor you always. Such things I do not consider a burden, for what burden is there in serving the one whom I desire over all others? I shall treasure your words and your tokens, and I pray that I will continue to be the recipient of your esteem; there would be no greater punishment than the loss of it.

I compete next in the tourney at House Shield. Lord Tulkas has welcomed all, and the king himself will take his place in the lists. I yearn to see you there, and perhaps, if it pleases you, I could entreat you to join me in more private amusements, far away from the prying eyes of others.

I must now end this letter, my lady, for a lack of time, but know that I wish you well and that you are in my thoughts always.

Written by the hand of your most humble servant,

Eönwë

Letter from Arien to Eönwë:

02nd September, 1453

To my most beloved knight, greetings.

Your letter came to me on the swiftest of swings, and it was received with much joy. I made haste to write in answer, for the weather is slowly beginning to grow colder, and our birds do not fare well when it becomes even more so. The cold makes them weak, and too many of them become easy prey. Come winter, my letters will be a rare thing, but I will more than make amends for it when we are blessed once again with the glory of spring.

It would not offend me in the slightest, my lord, if you wore my token upon your person. And it honors me, truly, to know that my tokens and my letters, trifling things as they are, will always be treasured by you. Your words of devotion humble me, my lord, and I pray that I will always prove myself to be worthy of it.

I too will travel to House Shield, for the ladies I serve desire to witness the spectacle of the tourney. Lord Tulkas will see to it that no expense is spared, especially now, when the king himself wishes to contend with other knights. As for the other matter, that of my joining you in more private amusements, my answer is yes, my lord. I will be glad to do so.

For now, my love, farewell.

Arien 

Letter from Eönwë to Arien:

11th September 1453

To the Lady Arien, my beloved companion in all things. Greetings.

Thanks, and thanks, and thanks again, my love, for your letter. Preparations are nearly complete for our journey, and the king has sent word for us to depart on the last day of this very month. The days will be long and hard and tiresome, but such struggles will be soon forgotten when I am finally able to see you and take you into my arms once again.

I too understand the difficulty that comes with sending letters during the winter. The road to Ilmarin is nigh impassable; the wind howls violently like a living, breathing beast and only the boldest, or perhaps the most foolish of hearts, attempt to ride up paths hidden beneath thick drifts of snow. Perhaps, my lady, you will consider wintering in Ilmarin before returning to Green Grove in the spring. You will find that the royal palace is warm and well-appointed even during the coldest and foulest of months, and you will not lack for any comfort. His grace the king has already consented to my request, and I will gladly speak to the ladies you serve on this score if you were to give me leave to do so.

By the hand of your most faithful companion,

Eönwë

Letter from Arien to Eönwë:

19th September, 1453

Most treasured companion, greetings.

My lord, I heartily accept your invitation to while away the winter months in Ilmarin. The ladies whom I serve will readily assent to your plea, and I gladly give you leave to speak with them when you see them next. I am told that Ilmarin is most beautiful during the cold months, with holly and sprigs of evergreen and gilded lamps wrought in the shape of stars adorning its chambers and halls. I have always longed to see such beauty with my own eyes, and I am forever grateful to you for granting me this.

I shall put down my quill for now, but please know that you are in my thoughts and prayers always.

Written by the hand of she who is always yours,

Arien

tags: @cilil @asianbutnotjapanese

[fazcinatingblog]

Putting the Ginni in beginning