#a HEAFTY boy of a drawing

[froggybrainz]

What a Heafty big Boi

First time drawing this lizard, and I'm still trying to figure him out

[indic0lite]

Fun fact! I once painted something that had so many layers that I after I saved it as a png and closed the sai file, I could never open that file again, I could only post the png JSNSJNSKSN

[arithesimp]

Best of Friends|

best friends- to enimes- to whatever the hell they have now. a very complicated relationship, that y/n y/l/n and Draco Malfoy have, chances are they won't figure it out any time soon

WARNINGS:none that i can think of

a/n - i wrote this on tumblr so i couldn't do everything properly sorry for the grammer

Slytherin!FEM¡ reader X Draco

y/n and Draco had been friends since they were two, their parents were best friends, and business partners, neither of them had much loving parents. only having their mom's and each other for support, "you two will eventually understand." was all their fathers said to them, never once did they know what that meant, and they never will.

starting their first year, they had one order, make friends with Harry, Draco went with a more aggressive interduction, whislt y/n went with a softer one- while neither of them were in Harry's favour, y/n was still given a nodd or short talks in the hallway.

in second year y/n began to hang out with Blaise zabni, of course she still hung out with Draco, just less. this of course made Draco angry, many arguments happened that year, "i can have more friends than you!" "so you're just gonna abandon me?!"

in third year they became super close friends again, like cuddling and kissing and so on, however that all changed when, Pansy and Draco started dating and Blaise and y/n started dating. Pansy and Draco didn't last long, "Pansy! why are you always down my throat?! for godric's sake! it's always 'Draco this and Draco that' just shut up!" "fine! maybe you'd be better off without me!" "i would be!"

they got back together after a day. but ended up breaking up the third week of school, for good

y/n and Blaise never fought though, unless it was about candy or food "no, i got that one!" "no- i did you got the every flavour beans!" The two dated for the first half of the semester.

Thats where we start our story.

y/n and Draco we're talking with Blaise, y/n and Blaise hand in hand, all three laughing about how Hermione had tripped in class today. the trio was walking to hagrids new class, care of magical creatures.

"Draco i swear if you agatate that- freak of nature that we'll see in class today i'm killing you." y/n said as Draco was complaining about that "oaf" as he called hagird teaching classes.

"Draco you're just dramatic." Blaise said adding onto y/n's point. "says the one who cried about charms last week" Draco fired back

"yeah but you were crying over potions yesterday, Draco" y/n said, "shut up- you cried over that muggle song you heard last month!" Draco and Blaise said in unsion.

"ulch! no, The story is a really sad and emotional song!" y/n defended her self, "look theres potter and his cult" y/n whispered

Draco looked up and sure enough the golden trio was standing right there "pottah! do you go anywhere without your possy?" Draco yelled

"wha'dya want malfoy?" Ron asked rolling his eyes "just wondering why potter's always with you, and the mudblood." Blaise said

"Blaise elias zabni, i will hex the hell outta you if say that again." y/n said grabbing her wand out of her robes, "sorry,love" he said looking down at his shoes

"malfoy why do you look so embarrassed all of a sudden?" Harry spoke up, pointing out his blush. "oh thats funny pottah! i don't get embarrassed." he said quickly looking away from the couple.

"Harry, ronalad, let's let the love triangle figure it's self out." Hermione said grabing the boys robes and turning them around "not so fast bush tail." y/n spoke up

"y/n you're so nice, if you'd stop hanging out with them you'd be much nicer." Hermione said turning around, putting her hand on her hip "i suppose it's because you need the attention from them, you wanna be notcied" Hermione added

"what did you just say to me?" y/n said pulling out her wand "i said, you hang out with them because you wanna be noticed, you want every to either want you, or be envious of you." she said

"you little-" y/n began drawing her wand as did Hermione but the boys on each side managed to hold the girls back and calm them down. y/n began walking again, shoving past them, pushing Hermione down and kicking her slightly before walking on "that'll teach you to disrespect me."

of course this angered Ron and Harry "y/l/n- how dare you?!?" Harry said drawing his wand "eat slu-" Harry barley got his words out before Draco shouted "STUPEFY!" lauging along with Blaise and walking off

"watch it you three, i don't play nicley if you're on my bad side." y/n said scowling at the girl just now getting up, the scarheaded boy regaing stablity, and the readheaded boy still looking at the two boys walking to the class.

at last they were in hagirds class, "this looks interesting." y/n said sighing, after hagrid explained everything, he asked the class whi wanted to try, every one took a step back except for y/n was zoned out, throwing stones at some kids in the class, and Harry who had his head in the clouds.

"grea! yuh two c'mon den! hop on!" he said grabbing the two and putting them on the hippogroff, "no! i am not! hagird you put me down this second or i'll sue! put me down!" y/n and Harry protested.

once the two were seated on the createre hagird explained some more stuff to the class real quick "Harry- no tension after this, got it? we won't talk we'll just sit and enjoy, got it?" y/n asked, Harry nodded

"righ then off ye go!" he said smacking buckbeak so it takes off. it was pretty eventful but due to the new found rules, Harry was the only one enjoying it.

a little over half y/n started enjoying it to, feeling the wind through her hair, streching out her arms along with Harry "this is actually kinda fun!" y/n yelled "yeah i guess" he said while holding back a laugh

"shush scarhead" she said smiling slightly. when they landed the two's hair was a complete mess, Draco being jealous as usual decided to make the greatest desecion and yell at the animal "not so big and bad are you" he began "d- d, don't do it." 'd' was y/n's nickname for Draco, and it gave him butterflies every time she said it so he always obliged

but this time he ignored the butterflies "you great big ugly brute." he yelled, this offened the hippogroff so it clawed at him, pushing Draco down "d!" she yelled letting go of Blaise's hand to run of to him "i'll sue you hagird! i will!" she yelled "it's killed meh it's killed meh!" he groaned, rolling on the floor.

"it's alright Draco, hagird help him!" she said holding her best friend's hand "righ well i tak em ta thea hospital wing" he said picking Draco up, y/n quickly followed after kissing Blaise goodbye "hurry hagird we have to get him to the hospital wing!" y/n explained

"i'll get you back for this! and your bloody chiken!" he said "hagird he's hallucinating!" she said "nuh he's noh" hagird rolled his eyes "he's jus exagratin'" hagird explained

"oh okay" she said letting out a heafty breath.

once they got to the hospital wing y/n sat next to Draco immediately, "d?! you alright?" she asked putting her hand on top of him "mhm" he said

"i can't believe you nearly got yourself killed this early in the year." y/n said laughing "hush y/l/n" he said rolling his eyes "right well Blaise said he needed to talk to me after class ealier so i'll be back later" she said getting up and kissing him

she was in for a treat.

[mentallyinwalmart]

There Is Nothing To Forgive a Braime soulmates one shot

This fic is a twist on the “shared dreams” soulmate trope, where, in my version, the God’s let your soulmate appear in dreams.

Jaime Lannister had never been good with words. All his life they had evaded him, from the time when he was a child and he couldn’t read without a heafty struggle, to his adolescence when he’d attempt to express to Cersei his feelings.

She didn’t care of course. She didn’t want his love, his admiration, and she didn’t care about his words, or lack thereof. All she wanted was his body and the pleasure it could bring her, all she sought was the security of knowing he was hers, under her spell, forever.

So the appearance of anyone speaking to him in dreams was odd. He was visual, and his dreams often came as a bombardment of images, some cruel, some lovely, all powerful, without a word to be gleaned from any of them.

But this night was different.

The dream was simple really, he was there, in the throne room, watching from above like a raven in the rafters, Aerys on the throne, his own white cloak shining. He watched as the mad king laughed, and he could hear the innocent scream as the king shook with wicked, mad laughter. He tightened the grip on his hilt and stepped closer. He could not hear what Aerys was saying, nor could he hear any other words, but he could smell the sickly chemical scent of wildfire and could feel the heat that would surely come from it.

He watched his own hands shake as he took another step up behind the king, all the fear he had felt in that moment evident on his terrified face.

But suddenly, he was not alone as he raised the sword to strike true. A girl, tall and strong, with long blonde hair hanging down her back. She was younger than him, but her eyes glowed like saphires and as she pressed herself against him, she took his hand on the swords hilt in her own, wrapping a warm hand around his, and helping guide the blade.

I understand. Her words materialized in his mind, and she smiled sadly before helping him guide the word into its sheath through Aery’s back.

Forgive me. Never before had he spoken in a dream. Nor had he cared to.

There is nothing to forgive.

She faded before he could get a true glimpse at her face, leaving him alone to claw at the air, before waking bolt upright, alone in the summer night.

��

Actions spoke louder than words, and yet words were what Brienne put stock in. Honor was her pillar of principle, and she believed in any man’s word as she expected them to do in hers.

And so, when a young man’s begging voice pierced the foggy clouds of her dreams one night, begging for help, for forgiveness, and justifying why he killed.

For the innocent. For those he would slaughter. Because if I do not do it, who can?

She felt a strange sense of longing for that voice, for the man who must wield its mighty tone. She let herself drift towards it, it’s words becoming more and more earnest, panicked, even.

Please, mother, father, someone, guide me.

She searched the crevasses of her dream for its source, but as always found no images, only fragments of words. But then, just as she was about to give up, he appeared.

Forgive me.

The boy was behind the mad king, drawing his sword, tears gathered in his eyes. And suddenly, Brienne was there too. One look at the boy and she knew what he needed. She wrapped her hand around his, and pressed herself gently beside him, taking on the burden of the blade and the sentence it was about to deal. She knew how this story would end.

The sword pierced.

There is nothing to forgive.

All was warm and light was everywhere for a moment, and then it became too much and she awoke, sweating and panting in the summer night air.

Soul dreams are a thing of the distant past. I am no fool. She repeated the sentiment over and over, across years as she travelled lands and seas, and came to the service of Renly Baratheon. Finally, she had stopped thinking about the boy, the Kingslayer, with whom she had shared a dream unlike any other.

Until the night she dreamt of the shadow.

Though she could not see it, she could feel the cool air sweep through the tent, and could feel the hair on her arms stand up. She felt her heart hammer in her chest, and her blood run frozen.

No. No. Please no. Do not make me watch this again.

Renly was dead a week, and yet she could not sleep without watching it play out, over and over again. Perhaps I am the Kingslayer.

You are not.

Suddenly she could see again, and there he was. Older now, but without mistake: Jaime Lannister.

It takes one to know one, and it is not you.

It was his phantom turn to come closer, to warm her against the chill.

How can I ever forgive myself? She wept as Renly before her died once again, and her heart felt as if it were frozen to ice.

There is nothing to forgive.

Her heart beat fast and she turned to see his face.

But he was gone. And she left alone in her bedroll in Catelyn Starks tent.

—

There is nothing to forgive.

Jaime repeated the words his golden haired maiden had once offered him so many years ago. He prayed it would bring her the same solace it brought him.

He had heard of soul dreams, of the most ancient and purest loves, ones which the gods themselves were invested in. Ones for whom the soul was so tightly bound that they could, when direly necessary, appear in dreams.

But he didn’t believe it. Rather, he believed that as comfort had been offered to him, so would he offer it. For some reason. He couldn’t quite place why, but something had compelled him to speak to her, to comfort her, despite not even knowing if she was real, or just a figment of his imagination.

He thought about it a lot on the road to Kingslanding, as him and Brienne walked in silence. There was something in the way she looked at him, this odd familiarity, overshadowed by anger and confusion. It made him wonder a great deal about what she knew of him. It was not an expression he was used to being on the receiving end of.

—

To Brienne’s chagrin, Jaime did not appear in her dreams after the night he lost his hand. Despite the fact that she so sincerely blamed herself for it.

But as they stared at one another at the bathhouse, and he suddenly, inexplicably began to speak, something in her chest thrummed.

“I know, Ser Jaime.” She said, before he had fully begun the explanation of why he killed Aerys. “You did it for the people, for the innocents. If you didn’t, who could?”

His face went slack and his jaw hung loose, eyes fixed on hers as they simultaneously put the pieces together. In unison they spoke their next words carefully.

“There is nothing forgive.”

~~~~~

Thank you so much for reading!!!! I am so happy to be back, and I hope to write a lot more in the coming weeks. Pleaaaaaaaaase send me any suggestions or promps you might have, or if you’d like to see more continuations of any of my work lmk!!!! As always, PM me if you want to be added or removed from the tag list :) Love you all xx, Bea

Tag list: @b00kworm @sassbewitchedmyass @onlyjaimebrienne @nashilena @oathbreaker-oathkeeper @averageinside @itsclaucueva @briennexofxtarth @slytherinoftarth @ladyem-fandom @afittingdistraction @ben-roll-io @marasjadesfire @paceofbase @hotarukuro

[dizaraksanar]

Masquerade (Pt1 of the Bloodbath Arc)

The manor hallway leading into the ballroom was bathed in gold. Nobles of all races mingled throughout the halls and danced in silken attire within the grand room. At one side of the dance hall stood tables of food and drink the occasional waiter slipping between guests with trays of finger foods and champagne. The end of the hall was decked in a single large chair, atop it rested a fiery red head whose eyes scanned the crowd in mock boredom. The crimson red and black gown clung to her form and draped in waves at her feet as she sat, the billowing sleeves adding drama to an already intriguing neck line. Somewhere across the ballroom Dizarak stood stiffly just outside the entryway, donning a long black vest with flowing black fabric to his ankles, black pants and a black long sleeve top hugged his toned figure. Ashraen tugged at the collar of his shirt before smoothing his vest, and a few stray hairs. He'd opted for an outfit, much akin to the one he wore during the Tavern's anniversary event, however, everything was carefully embroidered with light touches of gold. He'd even gone so far as to find a very nice pair of leather boots that only stopped when they reached his knees and were adorned with golden buckles, and glittering patterns.

He licked a long fang as he approached his mate, a few loose braids swinging lazily with that confidant gait he always seemed to have. A large hand was placed on the small of Dizarak's back as a breathy chuckle was offered. 

"Nervous? Don't be," he mused. "Aside from Moira, you'll outshine anyone in there. Besides, we're here to get out. Do something different. I... Wanted to spoil you a little." "Nervous is an understatement..." his hand idly tugged on one of his sleeves wishing he could be the skin just beneath it, hidden from view and anywhere but here. 

"You are sure we couldn't just go stand on Murder Row and call it a night? Bound to get preferable attention there than here." 

He grimaced at the crowd, his teeth tugging at the ever present lip ring, he could already tell the night would be spent attempting to make b-lines for the door for smoke breaks. The last time he had been to a gala he had been paraded around for potential wives. Ashraen opened his mouth and his ears sagged. He too eventually was chewing on his lip. This was a bad idea. Diz told him he wasn't about this life anymore and yet.... He wanted to see it. He wanted to see the man his mate seemed so convinced needed buried.

"Don't be like that, baby," he purred. In the slight shadows to the doorway, he bent and lightly nipped at the flesh of Dizarak's ear. "I needed to come for Moira and I didn't want to be alone. This is more your knowledge than mine. I thought... You might hate it less if I was here." 

His words trailed off and he was a bit put off by Dizarak's attitude, but he simply covered it with a smirk, and a smoldering gaze. He held out his arm for the other male as his opposite arm swept toward the doorway. He offered a partial bow of his form. 

Please don't leave me standing at the metaphorical alter....��

Diz scowled, his mismatched gaze peering over at Ash. He was right...everything was more enjoyable with the golden eyed male by his side but he couldn't shake the sense of dread. In his scanning if the room he was relieved to not fully recognize anyone immediately. He slipped his hand into the crook of Ash's elbow and tugged him close, planting a kiss on the others lips in plain view of the attendees. 

It was all the Paladin could do to not take Dizarak to the floor with that kiss. He broke it with a slight pant and ran a hand over the end of his ponytail that was slung across his shoulder. Hoo boy, Diz was going to be the death of him.

Screw it. None of these people would recognize him....hopefully.

"Fine....for you." He said.

Ashraen tucked his free arm behind his back and kept the elbow of his other close to his side as he led them into the proverbial lion's den. It was a mix of scents that immediately assaulted him. Expensive perfumes mixes with the baser musk of emotion. Ire, desire, disappointment... 

Moira had really stacked her deck and when someone brushed past, Ashraen's head was snapping on a swivel to catch the scent with a heavy huff if breath.

All eyes swiveled to the void male, the weight of his presence palpable in the room. Silvermoon had been less than welcoming to his kind and rightfully so but with Ashraen and Moira's pull he had been allowed to attend the event provided he remain in Ashraen’s view while there. That didnt stop raised eyebrows. 

Moira kept watch from her perch, her hired guards told to keep the tall men comfortable and safe, even if that meant disposing of a noble or two. 

The dark haired male stood a little taller despite heafty gazes upon him, his hand squeezing Ashraen's arm once to draw his attention back. 

"You realize they think I'm here because I'm your property. Right?" He muttered glancing at a few of the people around them. Quickly he dipped his head in greeting to the older gentleman who approached them with what appeared to be his daughter. 

The older male spoke to Ashraen, "I didnt know they allowed slaves at these events? However did you manage to smuggle him in?" 

Something in Dizarak snapped, he slipped his hand free and extended it toward the older man "Perhaps you'll forgive my forwardness but I wasn't aware they allowed ancient relics either. I'll forgive you for the comment about my being a slave. Cant blame ignorant people for not knowing to whom they speak. Dizarak Sanar of the Sanar Noble line." 

It was as if the other male choked on his drink, quickly he dipped his head in respect and pressed his forehead to the back of Diz's hand before scurrying off.

The exchange was a whirlwind of quickly executed actions that nearly had Ashraen crawling after Dizarak as he moved about the room. Throwing physical weight around was one thing, but seeing his lover throw political weight around... The way he carried himself and addressed others... Sweet Light above.

Gold flicked to catch Moira from across the room and brows lofted quickly. She'd had her doubts. Excuse. His boy could fall back into line just fine. He simply chose not to, for whatever reason.

Ashraen was all too happy to follow Dizarak until a particular scent caught his attention. His head snapped around to locate the source and he seemed hyper fixated on the male he had located, conversing with a group. Young, up and coming thing that had a penchant for the nastier side of Silvermoon. He smelled of deceit, stale blood, and an updated desire that had Ash licking his fangs like an animal lining up his meal. He was so focused he had no idea that he was staring.

Dizarak had just finished turning away a young female elf who he could have sworn was about to swoon, when he turned back briefly to Ash. His face fell flat as he watched his mate stare at something that looked younger than Melisande.

With pursed lips Diz snapped his fingers next to the wolfs ear, no way in hell he would be ignored. This was Ash's idea and for once his mates wandering gaze drew unamused irritation. 

Moira grinned from her perch, watching the void male morph back into the Sanar noble she was familiar with tales of.

That same ear flicks and stiffened with the snap causing the copper male to look back at his partner. The look simply read confusion until Dizarak's own look was registered. His ears sagged dramatically and he coughed an awkward apology as he snagged glasses of champagne from a waiter? A quick sniff determined champagne and the glass was offered to his mate with an adverted look.

"I, ah, I think I know why she wanted me here," he mumbled. "Sorry, I..."

Another scent sent his eyes wandering over Dizarak's shoulder and he bit his lip, fighting to pull his gaze back to Diz rather sheepishly.

"Do us both a favor and memorize the targets for later. Tonight you brought me to this hell, and you're staying put." He accepted the champagne, more for something to keep his hands busy than actually drink. Personally he disliked the stuff, but he figured there was no spiced rum so this would suffice.

With a single hand Diz reached to and adjusted something on Ash's shirt, a wrinkle or something. He frowned.

"I am staying put, darlin'. I haven't even mo--"

As he spoke, his eyes had wandered again and the void male reached and turned the paladins head with a rough tug, "understood?" He bargained, "or you'll be returning to a locked bedroom door with both your mates behind it."

Golden eyes now widened with shock and completely focused on his mate as he attempted to find words. He was rather sure this was a spectacle for all, further cementing Dizarak as the Noble he claimed to be, but the Paladin suddenly didn't care.

Ashraen swallowed thickly, murmuring, "Y-Yes, Dizarak."

Once he was released, he would exhale a low breath, and take up his place beside, yet just behind his mate. The adjustments to his attire had him glancing at himself and oddly now concerned with his choice. Was he not appropriate? It wasn't as fancy as his partner? To be right honest, he was positive he paled next to his date. Ash was not of Noble line, after all.

(To Be Continued....) (Mentions: @courtingfate , @ashraenv ,A brief mention of @melisandemeadowshine) (OOC Note: This piece and the ones to follow are previous writing that are just now seeing the light of day but I and my RP partners are now comfortable sharing. Pieces for this may be posted based on which of the characters appears the most, this one clearly Dizarak and Ashraen, others may appear on Nerimoira’s tumblr be sure to follow the hastags to keep up with the tale)

[definitelyarkto]

So long, Stone Man! I actually had a lot of fun with this fight! The mechanics surrounding the cultists and Dabih himself finally made me fill out all 10 unit slots. Bringing 3 different kinds of damage can make you do that.

Strategy for The Ambulant Patriotic Hero

As I mentioned before, the battle consists of two cultists - the shaman and the normal cultist - and Dabih himself. While Dabih has a major weakness to Ice and Light, both of the Cultists have 99% resist to all elements. To damage them, you’ll need to bring non-elemental magic and physical attackers since the Cultist has high DEF and the Shaman has high SPR. Ideally, you’ll want to take out both of the cultists first (namely the Shaman) as they’re the ones that will be doing anything during the first phase of the fight. Once the second phase hits, you’ll be met with much higher damage, breaks, instant death, and status ailments (including stop). You may want a backup tank for this!

The Team

LM Slime- Physical Provoke Tank. The cultists will use both magic and physical attacks against you, so you can’t bring both kinds of cover tanks. I thought the magic was more dangerous though, so I brought a magic cover tank and a physical provoke tank. Having someone to draw those deadly breaks helps more than you think.

Chow- Magic Cover Tank. The goodest boy. Takes care of the Shaman’s heavy magic attacks while lessening the need for a healer if equipped with Holy Wand. Also negates stop and counters with Esunaga if needed :’)

Loren- Breaker, side damage. Keeps the incoming damage low and the outgoing damage high.

LM Fina- Healer, dispeller, elemental support. When you transition into the second phase, Dabih drops you to 1% HP and hits you with a million different status ailments. Fina is here to recover everyone in one turn then sets up reraise for the potential instadeath. Also removes the annoying buffs the cultists puts on themselves when needed.

Fryevia- Ice Damage. Only here to rush down Dabih when the cultists are dead.

Reserves

MS Nichol- Buffer. Mainly sets everyone up on turn one and again during the second phase. We more or less forego buffs during this fight.

PG Lasswell and Ellesperis- Physical Damage dealers. Both chain very well with eachother and Ellesperis has the added bonus of having extra damage against humans.

Trance Terra and Beryl- Magic Damage dealers. Also chains very well with eachother (with a slight delay). Beryl also doubles as a magic tank if we need him to be.

The Battle

As expected with most of these fights, Dabih gets the first turn and proceeds to summon one Cultist and one Shaman. The cultists buff Dabih with 90% Phys/Mag Damage reduction and buff their own ATK and MAG. First turn, you’ll want to set up your Tanks to protect your team since we won’t be buffing the rest of them, then we stat break the enemy. The Cultist will do AoE physical earth attacks as well as ST physical attacks that will break your ATK or DEF by 50%. The Shaman will cast strong AoE non-elemental magic and AoE dark/water magic on turn 2, so I’d recommend killing them first. After the two cultists are dead, you’ll have all the time in the world to kill Dabih as he won’t do anything. It’s a good idea to finish any missions you haven’t cleared yet at this time.

Once you transition into phase two, Dabih will start by breaking your stats by quite a heafty amount before afflicting you with a bunch of status ailments, imbuing you with Dark so you can’t hit him, and dropping your party to 1% HP. He also summons a stronger version of the cultists on that same turn and they do the same thing they did on turn 1. Recover and rebreak the cultists: they have a high chance of 1 shotting you if you don’t. Kill the cultists as fast as you can, especially the Shaman. They both do nasty damage; the Shaman has high enough modifiers to kill your magic tank in one turn and the Cultist uses an ability that can instakill you every 6 turns after turn 5. At the same time, Dabih will keep trying to break you and reimbue your physical attackers with Dark. After the cultists are dead, bring out your ice attacker and kill Dabih before he can respawn them.

And that’s it! This really hastily written guide has been sitting in my drafts for about a month now rip. I don’t have the best memory, so I’m sorry if I forgot to add something crutial to the guide! Make sure the Shaman dies as quickly as possible and you should be good to go. GOOD LUCK!