#Natalia Dragon

[paopao33989]

是我最爱的防剿局四大名捕！

（Cultist Simulator.Ver）

图片背景来自于BOH！

[jeeyonshim]

the priest and the demon hunter

[illicitafair]

A BROTHER IS A BROTHER

1. Cain and Abel, Alexandre Falguière // 2. House of the Dragon (s1, ep8) // 3. Fire & Blood, George R. R. Martin // 4. Clara Ortega // 5. You are Jeff, Richard Siken // 6. A Brother Named Gethsemane, Natalia Diaz // 7. Adam Raised A Cain, Bruce Springsteen // 8. The World at its Beginning, Dustin Pearson // 9. House of the Dragon (s1, ep4)

[haaaaaaaaaaaave-you-met-ted]

Desert Lords by Natalia P. Gutiérrez (VampirePrincess007)

[askweisswolf]

To Pick a Lock (Warden Tabris 2nd Person POV)

AO3 link

The first thing Mother teaches you when you start your lessons with her is how to pick a lock.

It’s not what you expected to learn; in truth, you didn’t have any expectations to start with because you don’t want these lessons, not really. You’re too young yet to understand why Mother taking you out like this makes her and Father argue quietly before you leave, why every time you come home a little sweaty and dirty Father looks at you with sad eyes and his lips pressed together, but you are old enough to recognize that these lessons take away from important things like spending time with your friends and playing.

Mother insists, though, so here you are. Learning how to lockpick.

Failing miserably at it, if you’re being honest with yourself.

You scowl at the lock in your hands, because you’ve been working on it for awhile now and you can’t quite figure out how to get it to open. The lock doesn’t scowl back at you  because it’s a lock, and it simply sits there in your hands, behaving perfectly lock-like. Somehow, this just makes you scowl even harder.

“Patience, bug.” There’s a laugh in your mother’s voice, as she gently takes the lock from you. “You’re pushing it too hard.”

You cross your arms over your chest, but you can’t resist leaning in as she starts picking up where you left off. “This is dumb,” you huff.

“Patience,” Mother repeats softly, and despite the hot frustration balled up in your chest you can’t help the way your eyes widen when the lock clicks open in her hands. She clicks it into place and hands it back to you. “Now try again. Slower, this time. Move with the gears, not against them.”

You sigh heavily, but start fiddling with the lock again. This is dumb. Mother is dumb. You could be playing right now.

You tell yourself you’re not disappointed when at the end of the lesson you’ve worked out how to follow the shape of the gears, but still can’t quite get the lock open. Mother laughs and promises that she’ll keep teaching you.

(When Mother dies it’s sudden and bloody; Father won’t let you see her body, and you quickly stop asking questions because you see the tear trails on his face. While he makes arrangements and tries to keep his sobs silent, you sneak outside with her lock.

Slower, Mother said. Move with the gears, Mother said.

The lock clicks open in your hands and you look up, thrilled in your victory.

You look up for her and you forget she isn’t there.)

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The lock in your hands is broken.

You work that out fairly quickly; the gears rub together in a way that feels unnatural, a low sound that only you can hear because you know to listen for it. You click your tongue quietly as you realize this, but the children are looking at you with hopeful, eager faces, so you smile instead of frowning like you want to.

You downplay the dagger skills Mother taught you before she died, but the lockpicking–that’s fairly harmless. The children sometimes bring you a lock, because they get a kick out of watching you open it. It’s worth it to see their eyes shine, to see the way they smile. You can figure this out; you just need to be creative.

“Patience, bug.” Mother’s voice is faint in your ears these days, but you heed the memory all the same. You can hear Shianni and Soris whispering to each other, watching from a little away, but you ignore them both as you carefully work your tool through the lock.

You think you have something, after a little bit of fiddling. If you hook the tool on one of the gears just so and apply a little more pressure than you usually do, you could possibly force the lock open without the children realizing there’s a problem. It could also cause the lock to fall apart in your hands but, well, it’s either that or you don’t get the lock open at all, and that simply won’t do with young eyes watching.

You take a quiet breath, hook the tool and pull, a quick, firm motion that looks more confident than you feel. The children gasp, and a few exclaim excitedly, but you ignore the sounds and focus purely on what you’re doing. Your risk is rewarded as only a moment later, you hear the familiar click, and your smile widens as you remove your tool and the lock opens.

The children cheer like you’ve performed magic.

Shianni and Soris approach you later, after the children have been rounded up by their thankful parents or have wandered off to do more interesting things; Shianni’s smirking as she approaches. “That took you longer than usual,” she practically sings, and Soris nudges her gently with his shoulder.

You roll her eyes, tossing her the lock. “It was broken,” you reply. “I had to be a little more careful with it.”

Shianni catches the lock, nudging Soris back as she examines it. Soris lets out a low whistle at the sight. “You got it in the end, though,” he says, and you hum at the appreciative tone in his voice.

Shianni looks at you, brown eyes gleaming trouble. “When are you going to teach me to pick a lock, cousin?”

“Never,” you reply without missing a beat, and Shianni laughs as she tosses the lock back to you. She’s already enough of a handful on her own; she doesn’t need your particular skill set to make an even bigger nuisance of herself. It’s an old argument between you at this point, one that doesn’t even annoy her anymore.

You’re doing this for her own good. One day she’ll learn it’s easier to keep her head down and her hands out of sight.

(Lockpicking wouldn’t have saved her against Vaughan. You know this.

It still might have helped somehow, and it’s something that gnaws away at you for the entirety of the Blight until you’re able to make it home again.)

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You agree with Jory on one thing: the Korcari Wilds are bloody cold.

That’s about all you agree with him on, because Jory is also an idiot, and you don’t have the time or the patience to deal with him right now. You have a job to do and only one senior Warden tagging along, and the whole thing has your back up in a way you don’t like. Daveth at least has some sense to him, but you also don’t like the way he looks at you, so you just barely tolerate his presence better than Jory’s.

He can’t even pick a lock. Absolutely useless, the pair of them.

“Are you almost done here?” Jory asks as you pick the lock of a chest, and you ignore the way you can hear him shifting in the grass. “I feel like this shouldn’t be taking so long.”

You grit your teeth against the desire to snap, although you desperately want to. You’re exhausted from traveling to Ostagar and frankly you’d like to see how well he can pick a lock with stiff fingers, but you’re also painfully aware of your position; the only elven woman in a group of human men, alone in the middle of nowhere. You can’t trust that they won’t knife you for simply mouthing off.

“She’ll be done when she’s done,” Alistair says, his voice gentle but firm. You slowly feel the tension uncoil from the base of your spine at his words. “Let her work.”

Jory grumbles, then shifts again slightly when Daveth nudges him and cracks a joke. You blow out a quiet breath, feeling out the gears of the chest; it’s old, older than any lock you’re used to. Slower, you remind yourself. Move with the gears.

“Patience, bug.”

The lock clicks open on your next breath and you smirk, pushing the chest open. Jory and Daveth have dissolved into bickering over something now, and Alistair is trying to break them up without being too loud; watching the three of them jump when you slam the chest closed is oddly satisfying.

“Just some vendor trash,” you say, but you toss the worn amulet to Jory anyway; he catches it with only a slight fumble. Maybe he can get some gold for it, and you’re surprised to see him give you a small nod after a moment of examining the tarnished piece of jewelry. Daveth laughs and calls his attention to something, and you quietly slip to Alistair’s side as the other two take the lead.

You take another breath.

The gold sitting alongside the amulet wasn’t much, but you still lean in slightly anyway, press your hand into Alistair’s so you can pass the coins along to him without a word. He jolts against you, but his fingers curl against the coins when he realizes what you’re doing. You risk a look up at him–close, too close, you’re way too close to this human man–and he’s looking back down at you with a small, amused smile on his face.

His eyes are as gentle as his voice. You don’t know what to make of that.

“Thank you.” The words are soft so Jory and Daveth won’t hear, and you slip away before he can reply.

The Wilds are cold, but where your fingers touched his remain warm for longer than you’d like to think about.

[lastweeksshirttonight]

Stephen interviews a bunch of children to make an absolutely hilarious horror movie trailer, and it's... everything, honestly.

(Obviously posting this for a reason given my blog theme, but this is also too good to not share.)

[secretagentdragon]

Years late to these templates but here's my canon DA protags! (she/her for all)

L to R: Hayden Mahariel, dalish elf rogue (duelist/assassin) - Natalia Hawke, human mage (blood/a bit of force) - Kianne Trevelyan, human warrior (champion)

[theblackdragon-studios]

When i see my birthday gift, i really see :

Daddy Nox and mommy Pendara, with all their kids XD !

Nox, Pendare, how would you react if this was real ?

Nox and Pendara: *imagining it*

Nox and Pendara: …

Nox: Nothing the Spirits, the Demons, or the King could do to me would compare to the torture that would be.

Pendara: Growing up, these kind of scenarios were funny in the cartoons…but now I know the truth… No thank you.

———

Ask is referencing this post.

Characters and creators:

Cynder-Sierra Entertainment

Oran-@thelegendoforan

Hamyb and Jackie-@hamyb-dragon

Esper-@dragonhoard89

Natalia and Angel-@nataliaechothorn

Nox and Pendara-Me

Disclaimer: This is not an invitation to get your characters drawn. These are friends and were in the group picture I did that this is referencing.

[hamyb-dragon]

Stories by the lunch

Par une belle journée de printemps, Hamyb, Natalia, Esper et Jackie se retrouvent pour passer du bon temps ensemble en piqueniquant et en se racontant des histoires drôles.

---

On a beautiful spring day, Hamyb, Natalia, Esper and Jackie get together to have a good time, having a picnic and telling each other funny stories.

---

Natalia is owned by @nataliaechothorn

Esper is owned by @dragonhoard89

Hamyb & Jackie are owned by ME

[purplefeathersandblackleather]

"I'm not afraid to face a little bit of danger." (The Lady With Emerald Eyes)

@strangelockd

"I want the love, the money and the perfect ending." (Melt the Ice)

@sinisterstrange616

"You want the same as I, so stop pretending." (A Beautiful Stranger)

@sobeautifullyobsessed

"I wanna show you how good we could be together." (The Rain Falls)

"I wanna love you through the night, we'll be a sweet disaster." (The Golden Web)

✨ Happy Birthday, @the-eldritch-sorcerer! ✨

Thank you for bringing so many people such amazing interactions with Stephen in such a short time. I hope you have a beautiful day and continue to have amazing interactions on here.

[nataliadyernews]

Natalia Dyer in a Halloween skit for The Late Show with Stephen Colbert

[jeeyonshim]

what will you bargain for her?

[seagullcharmer]

got a huge jumpstart on my figure collection. but i can't get tear on her stand. this is so sad

[niriaveil]

your honor i simply love her so much

[gwydionmisha]

Jonathan Groff, Natalia Dyer, John Oliver and Imagine Dragons Star In A Spooky Film Written By Kids