#[whispers of fire]

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Flower Empowered.

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[dragonskulls]

done with the requests, really had fun with the httyd ones specially, thank you all!

tagging the users that requested

@aposterous @avianreptiles @sapphofinch @helsingvania @morp @crypticcrab @bi-pan-whiteout @kratt09 @lynxfrost13 @icecreamsodaaaaa

[anodesu]

So glad people seem to be enjoying the newest Warframe expansion. Here's a gif of one of the many anims I made for it.

[willoillo]

BONK

OW

[sunspearesque]

OHHHHHH MYYYYYY GOD you guys 😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ look at oberyn and nala !!!!!!!!! I LITERALLY HAVE TEARS IN MY EYES

@kenobiwanx thank u thank u THANK U so much talented gorgeous amazing human !!!! i’m so very glad i stumbled upon your account in a random Tuesday afternoon and fell in love with your work. thank u for making my vision come true <3

[spiderliliez]

Mysaria and Rhaenyra THE HOUSE THAT DRAGONS BUILT

[+] LGBTQ 🏳️‍🌈 [+] EMMA D’ARCY [GIF Collection] ✨ [+] ..more on “RHAESARIA” ✨ [+] ..more on “HOTD” 🔥

[discordiansamba]

He returns to the palace for the first time since he was nine in chains.

It's humiliating. Azula insists on parading him through the Caldera in a cage, chained and muzzled. Like they're an animal. Poor Prince Zuko, they hear people whisper. Possessed by a vengeful spirit and made into a monster. He used to be so gentle. How kind of Fire Lord Ozai to try and spare the boy's life for so long, in hopes that they might one day free him from the spirit's grip.

The muzzle does not stop errant flames from escaping, does not stop them growling and glaring down all who gawk at them. It's not helping their case, but they can't control themselves. They are more than just angry- they're furious. They can't tell where Prince Zuko ends and the dragon begins- there's not a difference between them in the moment.

(Azula stays far away from the cage.)

Father Fire Lord Ozai greets Azula with a hero's welcome. The mighty princess who at long last, took Ba Sing Se for the Fire Nation. The merciful princess, who spared the life of the dragon that took her brother's flesh and captured it instead. Azulon's get Fire Lord Ozai faces their cage- and they lunge at the bars. They can't help themselves. They'd like nothing more than to escape, and burn this new prison to the ground.

(Ozai flinches- the raging dragon is no longer confined to the body of a small child. They may be chained, but they are far more terrifying now.)

Ozai turns away, putting on a show. They are to be kept in the deepest cell of the capital prison, where the sun cannot reach them. They will keep him there until after the eclipse- if the darkness and the eclipse do not drive the dragon out, then they will be forced to finally put an end to the poor possessed prince's life. It would be a mercy at this point, Ozai says.

They languish in the small, cramped cell. No one ever enters it- they are too afraid of their flames. Food and water are shoved into a gap in the wall. The muzzle comes off, but they remain shackled. Too dangerous, they hear the guards mutter. I have a cousin that used to work at the Ember Island villa. They've seen what the prince can do.

(They would like to show them they can do a lot more.)

Then one day, out of the blue, they get a visitor.

They don't recognize them at first. All these humans look the same. They growl, letting smoke escape their mouth as a warning. They can bind them with chains, take them away from the sun, but they cannot take away their fire.

"Zuko?"

The growling abruptly stops- and Zuko untangles himself from the dragon for the first time in weeks. He stares up at the visitor with wide eyes, unable to understand why she's here.

"...Mai?"

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

i like to think that after the first arc, Jambu would take Glory on little field trips to teach her about the rainforest, since Glory was there for like a week before she became queen and then she was immediately launched into other problems

[hoboscruff]

Drew something due to the resurgence of Whisper of the Worm

[ibrithir-was-here]

Been watching OTGW and this silly little idea popped into my head and I had to doodle it quick xD

[tiredsurvivoronmain]

When Wesker was on the ceiling aiming at Chris his finger wasn't on the trigger again...

[justanartsysideblog]

A Whisper of Wolves

Robb Stark has heard the stories of the Mad King and his reign, and knows what happened to his grandfather and uncle when called to the Dragon’s court. It is no secret that while the North has accepted Queen Rhaenys as the ruler of the Iron Throne, they hold no love for Rhaegar’s daughter. When word comes from King’s Landing that the queen requests a Lord of the North for her council, Robb goes in place of his father who has not fully recovered from the bloody civil war fourteen years ago. When he arrives, expecting to find traces of the Mad King and his ilk, he realizes that the stories told in the North are not entirely true…and the dark-eyed queen is nothing like her grandfather.

I finally managed to finish the prologue! Enjoy below. AO3 link available here.

—

Prologue

One of Rhaenys’ earliest memories was of sitting atop the Iron Throne.

There were flickers of others, moments of lucidity among foggy recollections; the look upon her mother’s face as her father had given a token to another woman at a tourney, the sound of her father’s harp, the day her Uncle Viserys had called her “sand rat” and her grandfather had laughed.

But none were as clear in her mind as that day, when the screams had ended, and her mother had placed a heavy crown atop her head, bloodied hands trembling.

The air still smelled of smoke and the metallic tang of blood wafted through the throne room as shadows danced among the dragon skulls adorning the walls. The flickering torch light made their eyes gleam and their crooked grins seemed to stretch the more she looked at them. It was frightening, even though she knew she was not supposed to be afraid. You are a dragon, and dragons are not afraid , that was what her father always told her.

Still, she wished that she had been allowed to bring Balerion. She could feel the cold metal even beneath the cushion that had been given to her, and her little legs barely reached the edge of the seat. Her hands were placed firmly in her lap, as her mother had instructed.

“The edges are sharp, you could get hurt.”

Jaime Lannister stood to her right, armor polished bright, expression unreadable. He’d been the first to bow before her and swear fealty as her mother had stood behind her, hand warm and steady upon her back.

He had smiled when he had caught her looking, and she’d smiled back. Even though he’d seemed afraid, he’d made certain to smile at her.

She’d sat there for what felt like hours, as people came and bowed and swore their loyalty to her. They called her “Your Grace” instead of “Your Highness” and she’d tried to tell them they were saying it wrong but her mother said she was a grace now and not a highness anymore, so it was alright.

Only princesses are highnesses. You are a queen.

But her mother was supposed to be queen, when her grandfather died. She was supposed to be queen, and her papa would be king. That was the way things were supposed to be. Her papa had told her so.

“Where is papa?” She’d asked Sir Jaime, but he hadn’t seemed able to answer. Her mother had simply shook her head, and tucked a curl behind her ear.

Men in gold cloaks had lined the hall, and came and went to speak with Sir Jaime and her mother. They’d spoken to them, but they’d continued to bow to her and say “your grace” as if they’d been telling her all along. She did not know what they were talking about, but they mentioned wildfire, and streets, and “storing in safe places”.

Rhaenys had just wanted to sleep. It was past her bedtime, and she’d worried that her mother may have forgotten that she was supposed to read Rhaenys a bedtime story tonight. It had been hard to keep her eyes open, and only the reminder that the throne was sharp and could cut her had kept her from curling up against it and falling asleep.

When Lord Tywin arrived he’d knelt as well but there had been something different about his eyes when they’d met hers. Cold. Calculating. Things she had been unable to discern at so young and age, but that stuck with her for years after.

“Have the rest of the Kingsguard sworn their oaths?”

“Yes, father. All who are in King’s Landing,” Sir Jaime had nodded, voice weary. “It is done.”

Her mother had placed her hand upon her shoulder once more, before she had stepped forward and held out something gold and glittering to Tywin Lannister.

“For your service to the realm,” She had said, as she’d pinned the golden hand of the king upon his breast.

————————

The room smelled of herbs. My uncle must have overindulged last night , Rhaenys thought bemusedly. The slight furrow in Prince Oberyn’s brown as he reached for a cup of tea rather than his usual goblet seemed to prove her correct.

The morning meeting of the Small Council had yet to begin, but she knew already that the day would end in a shouting match. Ser Baelor Hightower, her Master of Coin, was frowning at his report on the recent crop yields, which did not bode well; no doubt the topic of raising yearly taxes would be brought up again. Everyone was present–no one would have dared come later than the Queen–but since she hadn’t started the meeting yet, they waited while looking over missives. Once everyone had settled she waved her hand for the meeting to begin. It did not take long for them to fall into all too familiar bickering.

Once again, her Master of Ships, Lord Gulian Swann, suggested upgrading their navy. Many of their ships needed serious repair and some were barely seaworthy. Not only this, the navy itself lacked sailors. The life at sea was harsh, and their standing navy was small and underpaid due to resources going elsewhere. Which was the counterargument given by her Master of Coin. Adding to the expenditure of the crown when naval battles were not their current priority was not something he would allow unless ordered to.

"Demand more ships from those damn Greyjoys if you need them so badly."

"I need a navy, not a fleet of pirates who are more likely to run than to fight!" Lord Gulian nearly slammed his hand on the table, but a glance at Lord Tywin's stern visage made him pause.

Lord Baelor cleared his throat, "Our coffers are put to better use elsewhere. We have the queen's ascension to the throne to celebrate, and the event must fit the grandeur of Your Grace," He nodded in deference at Rhaenys, who had silently been watching the argument. "We have borrowed too much coin. If we take out another loan we might as well give the throne to Braavos.”

“There is the option of marriage,” Lord Kevan Lannister reminded, then quickly continued as several voices raised in protest. “Not for you, Your Grace.” He nodded his head in a quick bow, “But Princess Daenearys has reached marital age. She would fetch a hefty bride price.”

Rhaenys cleared her throat. “I will be deciding on my aunt’s marriage. It is of no concern to the Small Council.”

“But Your Grace–”

“My decision in this matter is final.” Rhaenys held up her hand to silence her councilors. She knew she could not choose her own marriage partner–Lord Tywin would see to that–but the least she could do was spare Dany the same fate. Besides, Rhaenys was rather certain that supplying their naval fleet was of far more importance than a ceremony celebrating her crowning. She turned to Baelor Hightower, “Is there a way to at least supplement the manpower of our navy with able-bodied individuals from the poorhouses? Many are willing to work if able, I am told.” She glanced at Varys who gave a small nod.

“It would cost less than fixing the fleet as a whole,” Ser Swann admitted, “Though some ships will still need repair.”

“We could pay the poorhouse workers less and use the excess coin for our current repairs,” Hightower conceded. “That could last us until the yearly taxes to the crown.”

“Your Uncle Viserys should also be reminded of his duty to protect our shores as the Steward of Dragonstone,” Lord Oberyn interrupted, ignoring the subtle frown on Tywin Lannister’s face. Instead, he leaned back in his chair with a satisfied grin and took another sip of his tea. The subtle insults traded between the two was normal, and while Rhaenys would prefer that her Hand and her Uncle got along, she knew very well that would never happen.

Lord Tywin’s daughter Cersei had become a bit of a nuisance since her arranged marriage to Rhaenys’ uncle. She’d gotten increasingly demanding with her father, or so Varys told Rhaenys, and Lord Tywin was getting fed up with filling her requests.

Rhaenys had no doubt that Tywin still held hope that his daughter would give him a Targaryen he could manipulate as he wished if he decided Rhaenys was no longer worth the investment. For now, however, Cersei seemed unable to conceive–whether the fault lay with her womb or Viserys’ seed was unknown, at least to anyone outside Dragonstone. Considering none of the women Viserys took to bed were with child, he was the likely culprit. It brought Rhaenys a bit of morbid satisfaction to know that the man who had called her sandrat and her mother a whore was impotent.

Rhaenys waited to see if Tywin would object, but when he remained silent she nodded, “Send my Uncle a missive, and begin preparations for searching the poorhouses.” She cleared her throat, “I do agree that a celebration would be beneficial, but there is no need for a grand tourney. To celebrate I suggest opening some of our grain stores to the citizens of King’s Landing. They will feel gratified to the crown and less likely to cause trouble if taxes must be raised.”

“Then what do you suggest for the nobility?”

“I will hold a banquet for the loyal retainers that helped me sit upon the throne.” Rhaenys watched the council exchange pleased glances before she continued, ignoring her heart hammering in her chest, “And I will invite the Lord of the North as a guest of honor to strengthen our relations.”

There was a brief moment of silence before every council member began to shout.

[willoillo]

trick or treat

And this is how I learned I still had "open for trick or treating" in my bio lmao.

Anyyyyyywayyy.... you get Homemade Fudge (straight from grandma!!)

[lordbloodraven1000eyes1]

Check out this great Gig I've got from #fiverr https://www.fiverr.com/s/8zADPXE

A seamless pattern I got that's bloodraven themed. Hope everyone likes it 😃

[jin-enjoji]

office au starscream sucks and fucks his way to the top of the proverbial ladder, becoming a COO only to find out that he haaaaates the CEO, megatron. starscream often gives their competitors inside knowledge into their operations and info, for a nominal fee. megatron is stern and unkind, but likes starscreams fiery chutzpah and doesnt notice (or doesnt give a shit about) his treachery. starscream poisons megatrons coffee after a night together. before he takes a sip, he proposes to starscream and that is the first time in his life that starscream considers settling down, if only for the promise of being taken care of and having a well-to-do husband who will provide him a pampered and stress-free life he's always wanted.

[soupandsorcery]

i'm sorry i can't shut up about Beaux and Lucanis and Spite, but i'm basically always thinking about them.

I'm still in Act 1 with Beaux, so we're not even close to romancing yet, but I'm just thinking about Lucanis kissing them for the first time, and there's something tender and soft about it that Beaux wasn't expecting because Lucanis is just. Overcome with the feeling that he can have this. That he can be cared for and touched tenderly and wanted without pain and blood being a part of it. That someone like Beaux, someone shining and good and kind, would want him after everything. And Beaux swoons because he's been wanting to kiss Lucanis basically since that first coffee meeting in Treviso, and it was definitely worth the wait.

And then Spite takes over.

And it's fingers in Beaux's hair, pulling their head back to just the right angle, kissing them with so much intensity that it makes Beaux's head swim. It's teeth and tongue, and Beaux definitely moans into it.

Then Spite bites their bottom lip, hard enough that Beaux's going to feel it, just on the edge of drawing blood, and there's that thrilling purr in his voice when he says, "Mine. Ours."

Beaux's so fucked.