#a storm of swords starters

[arijackz]

PICK A CARD: What are your most alluring qualities?

🂺 "Beauty of whatever kind, in its supreme development, invariably excites the sensitive soul to tears." ~ Edgar Allen Poe~

Disclaimer: This is a general reading, take what resonates. This is meant to help uplift your spirit and highlight qualities about you that transcend space and time and manage to energetically get picked up by lil ol' me. Who then tries to put that inexplicable beauty into words. :)

p1 → p2 ↙︎ p3 → p4

☀︎ Pile One ☀︎ (nine of cups, magician rev., moon rev.,hanged man, page of cups, queen of cups)

⇾ Pink. Yellow. Fuzzy. This feels so warm, there's heat around my waist. Maybe you’re a dancer? Do you like to wear very big pullovers or extra garments around your waist? Corsets? I’m getting a strong emphasis with an attraction toward your waistline. Also, a very airy feeling in my ribs. ⇾ You’re fucking hilarious. Your ability to uplift any room’s vibe is extremely attractive. Strong water energy, Cancer, Pisces, Scorpio, 4th, 8th, 12th house. But not as emotionally heavy. Not the thunderstorm but the sunny, dewy morning after. Literal sunshine. You may have a signature scent. Coconut, vanilla, brown sugar. Before shuffling your cards, my nose was congested but while I was channeling, I had these moments where air would pass through the room, clear my sinuses, and the tingling feeling in my ribs came back. ⇾ You’re a high. A nice clean, mellow high. The brief moments in time when your body completely relaxes and you start flowing with the wind. People are addicted to how you make them feel. Your energy feels like the first hit of that oui. wink wink. People get a hit of your energy and it feels like an escape. This is my intuitive and sensitive dreamy pile. There is a lot of emotional depth here, you’re enigmatic. Being in your presence transports people to a simpler time in their lives. A period where the sun shined brighter, the air was cleaner, and all the color in the world felt more vivid. People can sense the storm raging in the back of your head but can visually see your perseverance and ability to not let darkness rot you, keeping this light and airy energy. It’s almost superhuman, you almost seem not real. You’re impossibly infectious. ⇾ You have a lot of natural inner abundance, you attract a lot in life even if you don’t realize it. I’m getting moksha house energy, a strong wheelhouse of influential power. The duality of your sweet, caring but reserved introspective nature is sexy as fuck, to be honest. It is hypnotizing and ignites people. I also see you have attractive skin, whether it’s clear, glowy, or cute moles, I'm not sure. But something about your skin people just can’t help but want to trace and admire. Jupiter/Pisces energy. Sugary sweet and in your own world, I feel like I have a toothache. Rare kind and light energy. Your attractiveness and romantic influence on people is one of your natural talents pile 1. I can see that with the Jupiterian energy I'm getting. You got 3 major arcana cards back to back. You’re a light in the dark and people are moths to a flame.

"You're pretty like a memory"

☀︎ Pile Two ☀︎ (ace of swords, the tower, knight of swords, 6 of swords rev, the magician, 3 of wands)

⇾ Well for starters, you’re SEXXXYYYY. Not just physically, but your wit, intelligence…people’s attraction to you gives me the image of Joan of Arc’s admirers. People perceive you as gorgeous, brave, and intimidatingly capable. ⇾ I’m getting Uranian energy, Yes, something about you is very mercurial, but this is next level. In modern astrology, Uranus is a higher octave of Mercury and symbolizes putting these higher-level ideas into action. Your ability to think of a goal and go after it is attractive. Or have a belief and fiercely defend it. I don’t know if you’re aware, but you have an innate ability to monetize or profit off of your ideas and skills. Especially with all this sword energy, the 3 of wands, AND the magician. Mane, you make shit HAPPEN. You make shit shake. A lot of people say they’re going to do things they have no intention of starting or say things they don’t actually believe. You are a rare exception to that. You put your money where your mouth is, and the amount of willpower and intelligence you possess is intimidating yet so very very attractive. ⇾ There’s gotta be some major concentration in your natal chart, a stellium, a reoccurring modality, sign, not sure but your energy is uniquely focused and intense. You may sometimes battle with excess mental energy. Anxiety, overthinking, etc. You’re a harbinger of change. Wherever you go, major changes follow and there is something very important about your energy. Your footprint in this world is larger than the average person’s. Your sense of self and your loyalty to your authenticity and values is highly admirable. *whispers* maybe even enviable, watch out for negative intentions and trust your discernment. ⇾ Whether you’re a man or woman watching this, you intimidate a lot of men. You’re the creme of the crop so to speak. You are the human embodiment of a warrior. Strategic, brave, and your fire cannot be dimmed. You have this eternal energy to you. Your name will be sung long after you leave this Earth. There will be tales and songs about you. There is an emphasis on making a change and legacy here, 10th house/ Capricorn Energy. Solar and Jupiterian energy is possible too, there's a lot of king semblance here. I feel like your frame is very attractive. Defined muscles especially around your neck and shoulders. Fox attractiveness. Sharp features, or some special emphasis with your lips, jaw, and teeth.  There is a lot of sexual attraction in this pile. I was shuffling and getting flashes of old Wattpad enemies to lovers and dark academia rivalry fanfiction 😭😭. I’m getting a headrush. Maybe you feel like a headrush to people at times.  You might look good in darker, cool-tone colors or have dark hair. ⇾ You make people aware of their shortcomings and that triggers them. You trigger strong emotions in people. People see you as superior to many, you’re either singled out in a crowd positively or negatively. People either love or hate you but it is undeniable that you are sexy and very fucking capable. You also have the ace of wands at the bottom of the deck…like I said…sexy and capable.

"Don't look at me with those eyes"

☀︎ Pile Three ☀︎ (The tower, queen of swords, three of pentacles, queen of wands, 9 of wands)

⇾ This is my dark feminine pile. 🎶Sheee’sssss a maaaann eeeaaatttttttuuuhhhhhhhh🎶, Ironically, the black cat got chosen for this pile. The tower paired with the two queen cards screams shadowy feminine to me, but balanced. The three of pentacles create a bridge between your intense fire and air energy. You balance your shadowy, detached and your fiery, passionate nature and it creates this intoxicating dichotomy that people can not get enough of. ⇾ You also are reserved and guarded, people can tell it is hard to gain your trust and gain access to your inner world so people subconsciously try hard to earn your favor. When I was laying out your cards my eyes got heavy and I felt like I needed to go to bed. You have a very sultry sluggishness to you. Think about Corpse Bride, how her eyes were always low, she moved slowly, and her voice was low. You have a dark veil over your character that is very alluring. There may be an 8th house or Mars emphasis in your natal chart. Make sure to check your planetary midpoints. ⇾ I am getting a Gabriette Betchel vibe. There's a darkness around the eyes of the man standing in the nine of wands. There is a draw to the shape of your eyes, especially if they droop a little or you have sunken eyes. Maybe you like dark makeup if you’re into makeup. This pile definitely had a crush on Morticia Adams growing up. You ARE Morticia Adams. Pretty Rave Girl is playing in my head, I don’t associate your energy with the rave aesthetic but I get the sense that people fantasize about you. You’re naturally mysterious and detached and most people only have an idea of you rather than a one-on-one connection. You may face a lot of projections, there’s fog around people’s perception of you. Plutonian-type power, insanely magnetic, with Neputinian-type glamour, veiled and shapeshifting. There may be some WLW baddies in this collective. ⇾ I feel like a very small number of people truly know you, you are reserved and selective with your energy and let me tell you, that is the most attractive practice a human being can implement. You are a once-in-a-lifetime personality that people dream about embodying. YOU ARE AN AESTHETIC. Well not exactly, I’m not limiting you down to your appearance. But you are the ideal embodiment of the dark feminine, man-eater aesthetic. The other three piles felt like concepts that I tried to piece together to paint a picture, your pile feels like a tried and true timeless dark sexiness that we've seen in cinema and music videos throughout the years. There is range here though, I’m feeling anywhere between Morticia Adams to Effy from Skins. The allure of Hollywood’s bombshells mixed with the angst and self-guardedness of America’s outcasted teen icons. I’m seeing an emerald snake, if you’re into sidereal astrology you may have ashlesha placements. I could write an entire essay about the fucking bullshit you've endured and THRIVED FROM but this is already getting a lil lengthy lol. Just know that you are living testament to the saying “I get knocked down ten times but get up eleven.” Stay sexy pookie.

"You got your HP Lovecraft... your Edgar Allan Poe"

☀︎ Pile Four ☀︎ (high priestess, two of swords, 4 of pentacles, the empress, knight of pentacles, 10 of cups)

⇾ UHHHH THE DRAAMMAAA. Bae, the high priestess FLEW out. You’re angelic. No mf backtalk. I don’t know about the stereotypical angel, but something about your presence is otherworldly. So intense but hard to conceptualize, can’t classify your energy as anything less than angelic. People see you as something holy and righteous. A theme of fairness and divinity is strong here. I’m seeing the virgin (Virgo, purity) and a gavel (libra, balance and fairness.) Your energy is always in a state of balance and harmony. Temperance did not come out, but I’d bet my top dollar that it would have if I kept pulling. ⇾ I’m hearing a steady water stream and the flaps of bird wings. People come to you for peace and tranquility. Your aura is serene and healing. Being near you is like transporting to a haven with clean water, a sustainable garden, fresh air, and BUNNIES. An image of a ton of white bunnies just came to me. This is not an 18+ reading, so I won’t go into detail but bunnies represent fertility and high sexual energy. You have an abundance of creativity. The best representation of people’s attraction to you I can put into words is like seeing raw energy. There’s this movie that came out in 2017 called Annihilation and there’s a scene where the main character comes into contact with pure energy and is so entranced by it that she just stares at it head empty, blankly in complete awe. THAT is how people see you. Like c’mon high priestess, the empress, 10 of cups, don’t ever fucking question yourself. You have an undeniably divine aura. ⇾ You’re a big deal, you're energy is very enlightening and calm but there is a heavy weight to it. Everything you do in life makes an impression and holds weight. Your thoughts matter, your conversation changes lives, and your very presence makes an imprint on people’s souls. Virgo 6th house, libra 7th house, Scorpio 8th house, Pisces 12th house. ⇾ You also have a very stable, Earthy nature to you with the 4 of pentacles and the Empress. To me, this is pure wealth. You will see a lot of luxury in your lifetime. You are a giver, you have a lot to offer the world. You are the epitome of “fill my own cup and let it overflow to those around me.” You share your abundance and prosperity follows you. You have the divine understanding that life is all about balance and what you give, you receive tenfold. ⇾ People think you look really good in white. Blonde hair could be a good look on you. Any aesthetic that involves purity or innocence really suits you. Personally, I’d say you look fucking killer in red hair. ⇾ With the ten of cups, I’m getting major wish-fulfillment vibes. When suitors see you they hear an angelic chime in their ear (I hear it right now) and music starts playing. DREAM GIRL. By the strictest definition too, you’re very dreamy and your allure is cloudy, people are afraid if they touch you, you’ll float away. You could have prominent Neptune placements. Do you like to sing? Harmoney and melodic sounds keep popping up. I'm thinking of Euterpe, the muse of music. ⇾ Your abundance leaks into your appearance (look for aspects to your ascendant, especially Neptune, Jupiter, and the Sun), you look very youthful and hydrated. It’s going to sound creepy but from a biological, primal-lizard brain perspective, you look fruitful and like you'd bear many blessings and children. Your skin is well hydrated and plump, your hair is strong and luscious, and you look overall very healthy.

"Be Not Afraid."

ahhh that was so much fun! to those who resonated with a pile, thank you for giving me the pleasure of experiencing your energy and reading for you. if you liked it let me know :)

[rumunasin]

Mol'lara tilted her head slightly, her white hair catching the sunlight in a way that contrasted sharply with her periwinkle skin. Her mismatched eyes, one red and one black, regarded the man with a mix of curiosity and wariness. She had grown accustomed to the stares and whispers of townsfolk, but the sight of another outcast piqued her interest. An outcast, one so humanoid, was likely to mean trouble. Humans were usually so respected and so revered, after all. Though, Mol'lara was quite the misadventurer, wnd quite enjoyed the company of the outcasts and feared.

"Evening, sir. You have a keen eye, though I don't find myself visiting the Underdark too often these days either. It's such a dreary place." Her voice was smooth and steady as she spoke; just a hint of the drowic accent lingering beneath the surface, "I'm here on business, just as you seem to be."

She glanced back at the contract board, noting the details of the various monster problems. There were posters of missing people, some where presumably unfortunate bystanders but some were young folk chasing the dream and glory of monster hunting and city saving. "These people are as welcoming as a nest of vipers, but their problems are just as venomous." Mol'lara turned her body to fully face the man as she spoke again.

She took in his full, rugged appearance. This was obviously someone who lived as dangerously as she did, or perhaps even more dangerous. The thought of that enticed Mol'lara, she was ever the thrill seeker. But, his appearance was not quite what Mol'lara was looking at. There were other adventurers in the small town, some looked arguably more scary than this handsome stranger. Yet, they avoided him as they avoided her.

"Why are they so afraid of you?" Mol'lara tilted her head to the side as she asked the question, her arms crossing over her chest.

The Witcher stood relaxedly before the town's contract bulletin board, looking over the parchment and the details, along with the offered rewards. Seemed the neighboring woods had a good deal of local monster activity the town's folk wanted dealt with, before it spread further. Though they currently avoided him like he had the plague, keeping their distance and murmuring about him to one another. Not knowing through his enhanced senses he could hear every word from them, every insult and fearful observation. Maybe they were more content with the monsters for company... but it didn't seem like they were liable to try to drive him out of town... at least not yet. He would make what coin he could from the contracts and move on quickly, before they worked up the nerve to try. Even so, whether they liked him or not, based on the jobs, better a professional like him handle the contracts instead of some wannabe monster slayer, mercenary, bounty hunter or arrogant knight. Though those sort were probably the type of hunters they deserved.

He didn't expect the locals would be able to prove a threat to him, but remained on his guard all the same. He hadn't lived on the Path as long as he had by underestimating even the most seemingly humble of folk. It was then he became aware of another figure not far away, catching a scent and hearing a heartbeat... and he looked away from the board and to the source, studying the being. A white haired Drow beauty out in the sunlight of the surface... not a common sight, in these parts of the world. Almost as uncommon as the sight of him. There were some whispers from the town's folk about her as well. She didn't seem to be keeping her distance from him either, like most of them were. No reason he had to be rude to her, as the rest of the folk were liable to be. Wouldn't hurt to talk to somebody in a village or town for a change outside of those he had to interact with for his work. The mutant inclined his head and greeted her politely, viper eyes looking her over as his deep, calm voice washed over her, marred features smiling faintly.

"Evening, lady. Don't meet many Drow outside the Underdark. Haven't been there in awhile. Got business around here, like me, or just passing through? Ain't the most receptive town I've ever been in. Even by my standards."

@rumunasin

[unparalleledtomes]

Not With the Eyes, But With the Mind (18+)

Ao3 Link

Pairing: Gale x OC Female Character

Summary: Against his better judgement, Gale's hopeless pining gets the better of him and he finally caves, treating himself to images of Noa and nearly nuking himself in the process.

Warnings: masturbation, smut, nudity, minors dni.

Word Count: 1900

A/N: did it take me over three months to write 1900 words? you betcha. will it take even longer for the next one? you betcha.

Gale lay in his tent next to a toppled stack of books. If he unfocused his eyes, allowed his mind to carry him home, he could almost picture the view from his tower through the canvas. It was the moonlight, the way it barely poked through the blue-green skin of his tent—it reminded him of evenings alone on his balcony just before a storm rolled in, and how the moonlight barely poked through then.

He tried to hold onto that image and the tranquillity it often brought him, but tonight the colour only reminded him of Noa. 

How she poured wine from a bottle that glinted teal in the fire, a glass each for her and Karlach. Astarion nursed his own. But Gale didn’t indulge, too afraid of what might tumble from his mouth in the presence of his new friends, or those he hoped to call friends. The orb, too, clenched inside of him and there was a slight shake in his hands, a heaviness in his chest that felt like a threat. 

“Come on, soldier. You’ve asked everyone for their life stories and haven’t said one thing about yourself.”

“That’s not true. Astarion hasn’t said anything.”

“I beg your pardon. I’ve said plenty. What more do you want?” 

“Well, for starters, I’ve never known a magistrate so interested in bloodshed.”

“What’s life without a little danger, darling? Besides, you’ve rather impressed me these last weeks. Goblins and bugbears, those poor dwellers in the crypt. There’s plenty of blood on your hands.” He lowered his voice as he spoke, like the very idea of violence excited him. 

Noa scoffed into the fire. “Not a thought that comforts me. Mark my words on this, night-walker. I’ve been around a long time—life’s easier with a sheathed sword.”

Gale smiled but Astarion flicked his wrist. “Spoken like a true, boring adventurer. I, for one, can’t wait to see what other massacres lie ahead of us. Gods know there’ll be plenty before our next sunset.” 

Noa rolled her eyes. “Gale, how about you? How’re you faring under all these…oh, let’s call them adventures?”

“Well, it’s certainly a leap from the comfort of my tower. I’m far more used to a crackling hearth, a good book, and an equally soothing glass of Blackstaff wine.” The thought needed only to be spoken and he was back at home, all but felt the veins of mature pages in his hands before he let the moment pass. He raised a finger. “But, adventure never strays far from a talented wizard, as I’m sure someone of your demonstrable capabilities can attest.” 

He wasn’t sure why but Noa laughed then, and the sound lifted some pressure from his heart. 

Gale blinked at the tent. He breathed slowly and with some difficulty, torn between chasing away what he’d rather remember. But her image haunted him like a childhood mistake and it wasn’t long before the faintest thrum of lilac tangled in the moonlight, the orb stirred to life.

“Coming from the great Gale of Waterdeep, I appreciate that. It’s not every day a golden boy finds you impressive.”

“Ha, oh well, hardly a ‘golden boy,’ though my natural abilities did catch unequivocal attention from the most spectacular beings. That said, it does put a bit of pep in one’s step to know their name travelled across Faerûn, eh?” 

Astarion audibly scoffed but Gale relished in the idea. He ignored the ignorance, forgave it even. It was the very same he’d dealt with all his life from those who could only watch as he mastered the Weave, destined for greatness—that of which he had in Mystra’s reverent embrace. His eyes fell to the snapping firewood. As quickly as it’d come, the thought soured. 

“It has,” Noa said plainly. 

“All good things, I hope.”

She brought the goblet to her mouth and held it there without drinking. “I’ve heard your story.” Her eyes flicked to his and they watched each other for an eternal second. A queer look accompanied her words, silent recognition piercing as a blade. “I’m really glad we ran into you, Gale of Waterdeep.”

Nothing existed but her face across the flames. He could only stare; he didn’t know what to say. 

The need was in his hands before it was in his cock. He folded them behind his head and tried to focus on the dull ache of his knotted fingers. He blinked, inhaled through his mouth, but there she stood above the flames in a long stretch before bed. She reached to the stars and it was all he could do to avoid her silhouette as she bid him goodnight. 

But alone now he snuck a boyish glance at the memory of her breasts. The orb burned through his tunic and onto the canvas above him, an aurora borealis in that Waterdeep sky, and he watched the colours billow until an intrusive thought of her naked made his ears simmer. 

Energy crackled around his briefs, warmth pulsing between his legs with every unstoppable thought of her face, her eyes—one rich and dark as earth and the other obsidian as a mountainside. He thought of the freckles that spilled across her nose and wondered how many adorned places he couldn’t see.

Stop it, he thought. By the gods, stop it. But she didn’t leave and he wouldn’t let her. 

When Astarion and Karlach eventually retired, he was alone. Flames lapped at the darkness and he curled his hands into fists to stop the shaking. Through the spots in his vision, a lantern burned from Noa’s tent and he watched her gently unwind her braid in the sliver of gold that shone through. When she lifted her shirt he looked away so quickly the whole world spun. 

The orb radiated from chest to cheek with pain, a hellish prick of needles coursing through his hands. He breathed deeply, pleaded with his mind to free itself from these calamitous desires, but everything was black against the light of her face. 

He didn’t want to will her away any longer—he wanted to touch gold. 

His face burned, and with great shame he unlaced his trousers. The simple caress of fingertips made him shiver, his shaft already hard and leaking by the time he freed himself. He pinched his eyes shut and reconsidered the whole sordid indulgence but she immediately stood before him, smiled at him, and with the first timid stroke he nearly whispered her name. 

Together they soared past the skies above him, their naked bodies entwined within the Weave. She outshone the stars, overthrew those swirling constellations he often dreamed of, and he could only float in awe of her. She bit her lip the longer he stared, a simple gesture that made him grin as he imagined a dahlia flush in her cheeks. It was enough to coax a faster rhythm. 

Back in his tent the orb singed his chest but he ignored the fire to press his tongue into her mouth. It shamed him and even in his mind he hesitated, but she moaned and wound her arms around his neck until he relaxed. He tentatively twisted up and down and she inched closer to bite his lip. He trembled at the brazenness of it, but envisioned her leg around his hip, her fingers in his hair, and when she moaned again he started to pump faster. 

With that same shy look in her eyes she squeezed the length of his cock. His head tipped back and she pressed a kiss to his neck so warm he swore he felt it. He stroked faster, grabbing her breast with one hand, cradling her head with the other, but it wasn’t enough. With a moan he multiplied, arms born from arms to have enough hands for every inch of her. Countless fingers caressed her back and gripped her thighs, touched her tongue and brushed the hair from her face, and in that paradise of starved simulacra all her moans rang out like music. Whether his hands throbbed from the orb or his grip on the bedroll, he didn’t know—all he knew was somewhere in those stars Noa belonged to him.  

Wildflowers billowed in the camp’s lazy breeze and he felt it through the canvas, the way it quickly became her breath against his shoulder. His eyes watered from the choking pain in his chest but he’d let nothing take her, each stroke a blacksmith’s bellow that kept her image alive. 

She rocked into him, slow and natural as a boat on water. The orb sizzled like a branding but he held her gaze, stroking until his back lifted off the bedroll. He tried to speak, to beg her not to go, not now, not when the world was so close to making sense again, but no sound came. Still she smiled and brought her lips to his ear, close enough to feel her breath, close enough to feel the tip of her tongue when she at long last whispered, “Gale.” 

His eyes shot open. The Weave flowed from his pupils and drowned the world in lilac, droplets spilling down his fingers. He sat up and clutched his heart. Copper dribbled from his mouth and he coughed at the taste, a pounding in his head like a great aching heartbeat. He looked around, tried to catch his breath, but only coughed again. 

He was blind. There was nothing but the Weave, so bright in his eyes it burned white. A terrible shiver ran through him and for a moment he thought the last thing he’d ever see was Noa’s face. He tucked himself back into his trousers and blinked again and again until the monstrous glow dwindled back to lilac, and finally to nothing.  

With enough breathing the crickets’ song poked through the thunderclap in his ears and he steadied himself on one hand. Felt the soil beneath his fingers as the world retook shape. Focused on the toppled tomes at his feet as the vice loosened around his temple. He lifted his sticky palm without looking and lightly jerked his wrist, the Weave slipping over his skin like a glove before it disappeared again to take the mess with it. 

But when that hushed breeze no more than a whisper rolled into his tent, he turned toward it, opening and closing his fist though he didn’t know why. Perhaps as a reminder of how foolish he’d been, that he’d nearly broken the promise he made to himself by doing something this stupid, by putting this many innocent lives in danger. He studied his hand, its shape mostly lost to the dark, and slowly opened his fist again. Perhaps it was something else. 

An unwelcome wavelet of guilt trickled down his back and he cinched his tent closed, lying on his bedroll as if he hadn’t just tainted Noa’s trust or nearly blown away half the Sword Coast. All around was black and there was nothing he could do now but wait for the shadows to make sense, to watch the canvas overhead and see if he could return home. 

And in time, he did. 

He didn’t know how he’d look at her in the morning. How he’d look at himself. But in that quiet moment beneath the Waterdeep moon he remembered the way she looked at him, and sleep came easy.

[pokemonheritageposts]

I love your card rankings so much! Turtwig line, mayhaps? 👀

Haven't done a gen 4 starter yet and I've always loved this line, so sure!

10. Torterra EX (illus. PLANETA Tsuki, Scarlet & Violet - Temporal Forces 12/162)

9. Grotle (illus. Sumiyoshi Kizuki, Black & White - Plasma Storm 2/135)

8. Turtwig (illus. Naoyo Kimura, Diamond & Pearl - Majestic Dawn 78/100)

7. Grotle (illus. Uninori, Scarlet & Violet - Temporal Forces 11/162)

6. Torterra (illus. Oswaldo KATO, Sword & Shield - Brilliant Stars 8/172)

5. Turtwig (illus. Masakazu Fukuda, POP Series 6 17/17)

4. Turtwig (illus. Kouki Saitou, Crown Zenith GG31/GG70)

3. Torterra (illus. kawayoo, Sun & Moon - Ultra Prism 9/156)

2. Turtwig (illus. OKACHEKE, Scarlet & Violet - Temporal Forces 10/162)

1. Grotle (illus. Oswaldo KATO, Scarlet & Violet - Temporal Forces 164/162)

[duxbelisarius]

The Velaryon Blockade or, How Not to Fight a War at Sea

Greetings and Salutations! After many months since completing the Military Analysis series, and having watched Season 2 of House of the Dragon (surely one of the shows of all time), I've returned to do some further analysis of the war of the Dance. I may end up including this entry in a subsequent re-write of the original analysis series, but I'm currently in the middle of working on a Daeron fanfic and wanted to write this to get my juices flowing. Without further ado, onto the main event: The Blockade of the Gullet (WARNING: Spoilers for HOTD and F&B; this is gonna be a long one!)

Analyzing the blockade of the Gullet or the Velaryon Blockade, as portrayed in Fire and Blood and House of the Dragon, requires tackling the subjects of how King's Landing is fed and whether such a blockade is feasible given the technology available to the setting. I'll start with the provisioning of King's Landing since the show made a big deal out of it, and it has implications for Fire and Blood's portrayal of the Dance.

The idea of a blockade of the Gullet leading to food shortages and near-starvation in King's Landing is a non-starter, since it is supported neither by the ASOIAF books or the show Game of Thrones. In the former case, we know that House Tyrells support for Renly leads to the Roseroad being closed and near famine conditions in KL, as noted by Tyrion in A Storm of Swords:

The mob loved Margaery so much they were even willing to love Joffrey again. She had belonged to Renly, the handsome young prince who had loved them so well he had come back from beyond the grave to save them. And the bounty of Highgarden had come with her, flowing up the roseroad from the south. The fools didn't seem to remember that it had been Mace Tyrell who closed the roseroad to begin with, and made the bloody famine. (ASOS, Tyrion VIII)

GoT retained this thread in Season 2 and returned to the subject of the Reach supplying KL with the 'Loot Train Battle' in Season 7.

Looked at more broadly, there are three sources of food that KL can access which render the Gullet completely redundant: Firstly, there is the Crownlands themselves, which should be accessible to KL by road or by boat via Blackwater Bay; there's the Reach, which is the most agriculturally abundant of all the Seven Kingdoms, although the main artery of this supply really should be the Mander river and not the Roseroad; and finally we have the Riverlands, which ought to be more important of a source for food since goods could reach KL from there entirely by boat or barge thanks to the Blackwater Rush and the God's Eye lake. Regardless, access to these areas means that little if any food provisions should be required to pass through the Gullet to support the capital, and this creates problems for the show and the books.

Leaving aside how the Blockade in the show is rendered useless, there is a massive plot hole for the Dance created by acknowledging this information. Prior to Criston Cole's Crownlands Campaign, most of that region, most of the Reach and all of the Riverlands have sworn fealty to Rhaenyra. Even if rationing was introduced and every source of food in the city were exploited, KL is still cut off from it's main food providers and this fact should have been addressed by the councils of either faction. Rhaenyra's allies were capable of cutting off the city's food supply and their armies could have come together to lay siege to the city. The only real obstacles they would face are Vhagar and Sunfyre, since Borros Baratheon and the Stormlands vanish from the narrative following Luke's death.

On the other hand, Aegon should have seized upon this threat to push for immediate action given his impatience with Otto's letter writing, the only payoff for which is the Triarchy's attack on the Gullet at the start of the next year. Aemond already secured the Baratheons, Tyland guarantees the Westerlands' support, and Ormund is effectively alone in supporting Aegon's cause in the Reach. As it turns out, neither faction is cognizant of this specific vulnerability of the capital at this time or later on in the Dance. When living conditions deteriorate under Rhaenyra, her tax policy is blamed rather than the fact that Cole's campaign should have negatively affected Crownlands agriculture; the Reach is rapidly switching sides thanks to Daeron; Daemon left the Riverlands in the hands of his army and those of the Lannisters, Aemond and Cole, with devastating consequences for the land and people; and finally, that the onset of winter should be having a negative effect on the food supply of the the Kingdoms.

It also needs to be stressed that for KL to rely on overseas shipments for the majority if not entirety of it's food supply, it would require the Targaryen monarchy to possess far greater governmental and military resources than they are given by George. Looking at Rome from the Middle Republic onwards and the Eastern Roman Empire prior to the Arab invasions, we can see that grain shipments helped to sustain far greater cities than King's Landing in Rome and Constantinople. In both cases though, they could rely on a hinterland for local food markets (Italy for Rome, Thrace/modern day Bulgaria for Constantinople) and possessed almost overwhelming naval supremacy which ensured the security of the seas. Rome could reliably access Sicily, North Africa, and Egypt for its grain needs, and Constantinople could do likewise with Anatolia, Egypt, the Black Sea basin and later Sicily and North Africa as well.

Ships bound for KL from the Reach would have to sail the treacherous waters and barren coast of southern Dorne, brave storms and pirates in the Stepstones, and risk further storms off the coast of the Stormlands, and this is without considering how dangerous the transit would be during years long autumns and winters. Essosi shipments have the same problem but with the added wrinkle that the crown would have to pay for them, whereas Roman grain shipments were often provided by collecting taxes in kind rather than cash from farmers in Egypt and North Africa. This alone would automatically elevate House Lannister above the Targaryens as the foremost house in the Seven Kingdoms, given their access to nigh-infinite gold deposits. This is all to say that the premise of the Gullet Blockade starving out KL is utterly preposterous, which makes it completely unsurprising that Ryan Condal and Sara Hess chose to run with it!

By contrast, the blockade attempted in F&B was meant to put pressure on the Greens by cutting off all trade to the capital, preventing merchants from reaching the city or leaving it. The foreign and domestic merchants trapped in Blackwater Bay are among the loudest voices criticizing Aegon and his leadership, which was seemingly the aim of Corlys Velaryon. Unfortunately for George's plot, close examination of the development of naval warfare in the Medieval and Early Modern Periods (c.500-1500 and c.1500-1800 respectively), the very periods George has derived his naval technology and ship designs from, indicate that the blockade of the Gullet makes no sense militarily. I arrived at my conclusion about the Blockade after consulting John H. Pryor and Elizabeth M. Jeffries excellent book The Age of the Dromon: The Byzantine Navy c.500-1204, with further insight provided by X users SzablaObr2023 and the "Orc Logistics Guy" himself, Professor Bret Devereaux.

The most fundamental problem with the Gullet Blockade is that it's the wrong kind of blockade to attempt within the setting; historically, there have been two types of blockade attempted in war: Close and Distant. Close blockades were the most common in pre-modern times, and involved cutting off naval traffic from a region or area (typically a port) with ships posted within sight of the coastline. Distant blockades aim to cut off traffic to a much larger area by posting ships at sea far from the coastline of the intended target. The Velaryons are attempting the latter kind by controlling the waters between Dragonstone and Massey's Hook, to prevent any ships from entering or leaving Blackwater Bay and thereby isolating King's Landing.

The forces available to Corlys Velaryon are not insignificant: we know that Alyn Velaryon sailed against the Stepstones in 133 AC with 60 war galleys, 30 longships, and over 100 cogs and great cogs, to which we can add the 7 warships that escorted the Gay Abandon in 129-130 AC. Increasing this fleet by a third and rounding up to account for the losses suffered in the Battle of the Gullet gives the Velaryon Fleet at least 270 ships at the outset of the Dance, potentially as high as 300. By comparison, the Redwyne Fleet in 300 AC possesses 200 warships, about equal to the Carthaginian fleet at the outset of the First Punic War and larger than any fleet used by Athens against Sparta during the Peloponnesian War (see this video from 15:27 onward).

Based on Alyn's order of battle, it appears that the Velaryon Fleet was evenly split between oared warships and pure sailing vessels, which presents a problem for the Gullet Blockade. While oared and sailing vessels could maintain a close blockade, the former are completely unsuited for a distant blockade due to their logistical requirements and seaworthiness. Close blockades were often used to cut off a port or narrow stretch of water in support of a siege by land forces; an excellent historical example is the Battle of Actium in 31 BC, when the army and fleet of Gaius Octavian trapped Mark Antony's forces in the Ambracian Gulf. Closeness to the coast and the friendly armies stationed there ensured that oared ships had access to food supplies and more importantly, fresh water. Pryor and Jeffries estimate that each member of a Byzantine rowing crew required a minimum of 8 liters of fresh water per day; a Dromon with 108 rowers would thus need 864 liters per day and 1000 liters or one tonne if the marines and officers are included (adding a second crew of rowers would almost double that amount). Mediterranean war galleys of the Medieval and Early Modern Periods had storage for only 4-8 tonnes of fresh water on board, making accessible fresh water sources a sine qua non for operations of any length.

The other factor rendering oared warships unsuitable for distant blockade duties is their seaworthiness, which Pryor and Jeffries discuss at length:

if the wind rose to Beaufort Scale Four-Five (16-17 knots) ... That would raise waves of around 4.75 feet, 1.45 metres. All galleys at all times were designed to cut through the water rather than to ride the waves and such a wind, which is just a “moderate” to “fresh” breeze on the Beaufort Scale, nothing out of the ordinary, would send waves washing over the deck of any dromon. Even if the wind were astern, she would still be forced to run for the coast. If the wind were ahead, it would be worse because that would mean that the ship was attempting to beat to windward and therefore would be heeling over with one gunwale continuously under water." ... Scale Seven winds would raise seas up to 13.5 feet (4.115 metres) and no dromon would stand a chance of continuing its voyage in such conditions. The authors of the Olympias project have concluded that a trieres [Trireme] would be swamped in waves above 0.85 metres, and we believe that in all probability a dromon would have been also. ... However, galleys were simply not designed to be sailed and throughout history they were always notoriously poor sailers. Because their lack of deep keels meant that they made excessive leeway when beating into the wind, because their shallow draft and low freeboard meant that they could not heel under sail very much, because their narrow beam and low depth in hold meant that their hulls did not have the structural strength to carry a large press of sail, and because their extreme length:beam ratio and lateen sails meant that they carried pronounced weather helm, constantly griping, the bows coming up into the wind, galleys were always notorious for poor upwind performance under sail. That is nothing to be wondered at for they were not designed to do that ... Moreover, a heel under sail of a mere ten degrees or so would put the lower rims of the lower oar ports at the flat water line and at that point it is highly questionable whether the oar sleeves would have prevented water from entering the hull, even if they were tied off. (Age of the Dromon, pg. 336-338)

Velaryon war galleys and longships would need to stay close to Cracklaw Point, Massey's Hook, Driftmark and Dragonstone to be of any assistance to the Blockade, although with the rough seas and weather of autumn and winter even this would be a doubtful prospect. Corlys would have to rely upon the cogs and great cogs of the Velaryon Fleet to conduct the blockade; Devereaux and Szabla noted that sailing vessels are capable of conducting distant blockades, as demonstrated by Britain's Royal Navy during the Napoleonic Wars. They also note that conducting such a blockade entailed problems all its own:

A distant blockade with sailing vessels still required significant logistical support, a well developed naval command structure and bureaucracy, and only began to be attempted centuries after the High and Late Middle Ages when the Cog was widely used.

Even if we leave these issues aside, the Gullet Blockade still has another serious problem: Communications. Based on a distance map of Westeros, the distance between Crackclaw Point and Sharp Point appears to be c.125 miles while the length of the Gullet proper from Dragonstone to Sharp Point may be 100 miles or less. Meleys is the only dragon known to have supported the Blockade and seems not to have been replaced after her death at Rook's Rest. Over 100 cogs and 1 dragon at best would be the only forces capable of patrolling the Gullet to any effect, while the need for ships to resupply the blockade and to act as reserves to relieve ships from the Blockade line drastically reduces the amount of ships that could patrol the Gullet. Pryor and Jeffries' assessment of Byzantine visual signaling suggests that communications within the Blockade would be almost impossible:

The masthead height of the foremast of a standard dromon as we have reconstructed it was only around 10.65 metres above sea level. There were, admittedly, larger dromons; however, for what follows a couple of metres more of masthead height would make no difference to the conclusions reached. With a foremast height of 10.65 metres above sea level, the theoretical horizon of a lookout at the masthead would have been only around 11.8 kilometres. Theoretically, the peak of a lateen sail 21 metres above sea level could be seen a further 51.7 kilometres away but, of course, no man could see 63.5 kilometres with unaided sight. In all probability, around 15-20 kilometres would have been the limit of visibility from the masthead of a dromon. Scout ships could not, therefore, patrol a space more than 30-40 kilometres in advance of a fleet and probably no more than 30, since they were always said to have been smaller than standard dromons and would have had lower mastheads. In fact, in order to be able to actually read signals with unaided eyesight and communicate them back to the fleet, distances must have been even less than this. Syrianos Magistros advised that a fleet should always proceed with scout ships out ahead, up to six milia or so. Two scout ships should be 6 milia ahead and another two should be between them and the fleet to relay any messages. Six milia was only around 8 kilometres. If the forward scout ships then had a range of visibility of another 8-16 kilometres, then the real maritime space that could be observed was only around 25 kilometres at best. (Age of the Dromon, pg. 388-389).

Compared to the Gullet, the Strait of Otranto is 100 km wide (c.69 miles) while the distance between Crete and Rhodes is 180 km (c.112 miles) with the island of Karpathos in the middle; neither the Byzantines nor contemporary Mediterranean powers could control entry and exit through such space.

It might be argued that spyglasses, known in ASOIAF as Myrish Lenses or a Myrish Eye, could offer a solution to such long distances; unfortunately these devices are only produced in Myr, and of the three mentioned in the main books only one is used onboard a ship. The lenses used by Maesters Luwin and Aemon are large enough to require a tripod; the only one mentioned aboard a ship is a collapsible Eye carried by a Myrish captain whose ship is taken by Victarion en route to Slavers Bay. Even if Myrish lenses were available to some degree, it's unlikely they could overcome the problems of distance and the conditions at sea.

Writing about the War of 1812, Frederick Leiner states that a lookout "perched on the masthead, 80 or 100 feet above the main deck, and equipped with a spyglass, with the horizon perhaps 20 miles off ... might be able to discern a larger warship-like frigate perhaps as far as 15 miles distant, if the weather were clear and sea conditions allowed." 15 miles or 24 km is impressive compared to the 8-16 km of the Byzantine scout ships mentioned by Pryor and Jeffries, but the heights of Leiner's masts are more than double that of a Dromon and taller still than a cogs. Even a spyglass from two centuries after they were first introduced would not greatly enhance the vision of a Velaryon lookout, and the notoriously poor weather and seas of the Westerosi autumn and winter would certainly counteract it. With ships being kept off station to ferry supplies and act as reserves, the area needing to be patrolled would make visual signaling highly impractical.

To quote Pryor and Jeffries once more, "Expeditionary objectives could frequently be achieved best by preserving one’s forces intact and actually avoiding battle since naval warfare was essentially amphibious warfare whose purpose was to secure control of terrestrial objectives rather than to attempt to control maritime space (Age of the Dromon, 388)." Using the Velaryon Fleet to support the Black armies rather than attempting an exercise in futility by blockading the Gullet, would have applied pressure to Aegon and the Greens more effectively while being consistent with the setting that George created and its inspirations.

The most obvious way for the Velaryon Fleet to support the Blacks would be through transporting Northern and Vale troops south of the Neck and the Mountains of the Moon, to take the fight to Aegon rather than sitting back passively once Daemon rallied the Riverlords and the Blacks in the Reach marched on Oldtown. Considering how swiftly both of those armies were raised, it makes no sense why the Vale could not at least send troops to assist Rhaenyra in the Crownlands. Another option and one which I proposed in part 12 and the conclusion of my military analysis series, would be to send the Velaryon Fleet south against the Stormlords.

Otto Hightower believed that Tarth would support Rhaenyra's cause, and Lord Buckler and Lady Fel were both executed by Aegon for refusing to swear fealty to him instead of Rhaenyra. The bulk of the Crownlands supports Rhaenyra prior to Criston Cole's campaign, and Felwood and Bronzegate are located south of the Crownlands astride the Kingsroad to Storm's End. The Wendwater flows through the Stormlands and Crownlands before emptying into Blackwater Bay; assuming the river is even partially navigable, this could allow shallow drafted boats to move troops and supplies into the lower Kingswood and prevent Aegon and Borros from aiding one another. Naval operations along the coast would be risky given the arrival of autumn, but the weather rarely affects the plot of the Dance if the author doesn't want it to. Tarth would serve as a base for the Velaryon ships to resupply and further raid the coast or land troops and the Blacks in the Reach could threaten the border, with the Cockleswhent and Blueburn rivers potentially serving as supply arteries for an invasion from the west.

There are also compelling political reasons for the Blacks and particularly the Velaryons to attack the Stormlands: It would punish Borros Baratheon for breaking his father's oath to Rhaenyra, esp. since his father supported Rhaenys and Laenor in 101 and Rhaenys is currently part of the Black council; it could be portrayed as vengeance for the death of Lucerys Velaryon over Shipbreaker Bay; and it could potentially force the Greens out of King's Landing. Aemond's betrothal to Floris Baratheon would give him some obligation to support his ally and future good-father against their common foe, and failure to give aid would endanger the Baratheon alliance. Aegon's only other allies are in the Westerlands and the Honeywine valley of the southern Reach, and without the Baratheons he is completely surrounded by his enemies. Whether Aegon, Aemond or both set out with an army to aid Borros, King's Landing's garrison and perhaps one dragonrider are all that would be left to defend against an attack by Daemon and the Riverlords and/or the Black houses of the Reach.

These scenarios offer a more effective employment for the Velaryon Fleet, but there is a way to retain the blockade while ensuring that the ending of the Dance remains relatively the same (Rhaenyra and Aegon are dead, Aegon III and Jaehaera marry, most of the dragons are dead, etc.) by acknowledging that the blockade is a poor strategy. It could start by allowing Mysaria's spies to discover the fate of the Royal Treasury, with ships carrying 75% of the treasury out of Blackwater Bay without the awareness of the Velaryon Fleet. It can even be implied that Larys Strong leaked this information to play both sides and drive a wedge between Rhaenyra and her Hand; this pays off as Rhaenyra blames Corlys and the Velaryons for this embarassment and imposes the Blockade against Corlys' judgement. The blockade serves as a way for her to get back at Aegon while asserting her royal authority after her claim was usurped.

The Velaryon Fleet is thus forced to commit the entirety of its forces to a task that Corlys, his vassals, and his captains and crews know is beyond their means to carry out successfully. Many galleys could be lost to the stormy seas and their crews drowned, while the cogs must endure the same weather and miserable conditions in pursuit of a pointless task. Morale declines steadily as many ships desert completely, turning to piracy or becoming merchantmen and sellsails in Essos, which further undermines the blockade. Tensions between Rhaenyra and Corlys would already be high before Rhaenys' death and could reach a crisis point after the Battle of the Gullet. The way the battle plays out in F&B could likewise be retained if the mistakes made by the Blacks are acknowledged, being the failure of naval or dragon patrols to detect the approach of the Triarchy Fleet. Gyldan could point out that both Prince Jacaerys and Lord Corlys are at fault for the disaster, but that Rhaenyra solely blames the Velaryons. I would even go a step further: Medieval and Early Modern naval combat relied heavily on boarding actions, excluding cannons since they're not present in George's setting. With many galleys and ships being entangled in these close-quarters bouts, it would not be surprising if the dragonriders set fire to Velaryon ships by mistake and further contributed to the deterioration of Velaryon support.

With many officers and crews having lost their families and homes in the Triarchy attack, this would present a perfect opportunity for Vaemond Velaryon's sons, Daeron and Daemion, and his nephews the 'Silent Five' to take action if they were not already involved in the events of the Dance. With Larys possibly assisting them, they could begin organizing a fleet-wide mutiny against Rhaenyra and the Black Council, which would take place after Corlys is arrested. Addam and Alyn would flee to Dragonstone and Driftmark, the former to seek Baela and Moondancer's help and the latter to rally ships and crews to help his father. The mutineers capture Alyn while Addam finds Moondancer dead, Baela imprisoned, and Dragonstone in the hands of Aegon II, with a battle ensuing between Sunfyre and Seasmoke which leads to Aegon's injuries and Addam fleeing the bay worse for wear. Heading to Maidenpool and finding that Nettles has fled and Daemon and Aemond are fallen in battle, Addam could then rally what forces he can for a suicide mission against Tumbleton with the aim of killing Daeron and the Betrayers and mauling their army before it can join Aegon at King's Landing.

This sets up how I would fix Second Tumbleton, by Addam showing up to find Daeron already battling with the Betrayers and the army divided. Knowing that neither Aegon and Alicent nor Alyn, Baela and Corlys will survive if the Betrayers take the capital, Addam and Daeron join forces and rout the Betrayers army, with all four dragonriders being killed in the battle. This change is important if Jaehaera's death is retained, since there needs to be strong foundations for reconciling the Greens and Blacks. Addam and Daeron the Daring's sacrifice gives both factions heroes that they can memorialize and honour together; Daenaera's marriage to Aegon III is also helped by her father and uncle having been actively involved in Rhaenyra's downfall in support of Aegon II. A final touch I would add would be for Alyn to lead a counter-mutiny following Aegon II's death which leads to deaths of Daeron Velaryon and three of the 'Silent Five'; Alyn could swear an oath to the dying Daeron to look after his daughter Daenaera now that both her parents will be dead. This magnanimous act by Alyn and the respect the Velaryon Fleet has for him could inform Daemion's decision to break with the remaining 'Silent Five' and support Alyn's claim as Corlys' heir.

If you've made it to the end of this wall of text, I commend you! For those that want a TL;DR: The Show's blockade is nonsense; the Book blockade is unworkable as a strategy; nonetheless, the blockade and the Velaryon Fleet can still play an important role in the story if the aforementioned flaws are acknowledged. Thanks for reading, and I'll catch you on the flip side!

[edenmemes]

asoiaf: sword of storms starters

❝ why would the stars want to look down on one such as me? ❞ ❝ sometimes i think everyone is just pretending to be brave, and none of us really are. maybe pretending is how you get brave. ❞ ❝ come, curse me or kiss me or call me a liar. something. ❞ ❝ some battles are not won with swords and spears, others with quills and ravens. ❞ ❝ old stories are like old friends. you have to visit them from time to time. ❞ ❝ still, night falls for all of us in the end, and too soon for some. ❞ ❝ and i tell you truly, there is no man in all the world who will ever be half so true to you as me. ❞ ❝ there are fights no swords can win. ❞ ❝ nothing will happen to you. nothing. i could not stand it. ❞ ❝ in such troubled times, it is hard to know friend from foe. ❞ ❝ you hide behind courtesy as if it were a castle wall. ❞ ❝ why do i enrage you so? i’ve never done you harm that i know of. ❞ ❝ it seems to me that a ruler who trusts no one is as foolish as a ruler who trusts everyone. ❞ ❝ love’s not always wise, i’ve learned. it can lead us to great folly, but we follow our hearts...wherever they take us. ❞ ❝ only lies offend me, never honest counsel. ❞ ❝ it was never my wish to sow enmity between us. ❞ ❝ best you were taken to your bed for a long resting, until you are stronger. ❞ ❝ even brave men blind themselves sometimes, when they are afraid to see. ❞ ❝ no harm will come to you, you have my word on that. ❞ ❝ the worst is behind us. don’t be frightened. ❞ ❝ silence. have you forgotten who i am? ❞ ❝ there is something we must speak of. will you walk with me? ❞ ❝ you shall rise again, i am sure. a man like you. ❞ ❝ i am not a cruel man. you know me. ❞ ❝ the world grows a little darker every day. ❞ ❝ i have need of good counsel, and you never gave me less. ❞ ❝ you are a treacherous old rogue, but a good friend all the same. ❞ ❝ madness and greatness are two sides of the same coin. ❞ ❝ if you love me all so much, why are you still dressed? ❞ ❝ you’re mine. mine, as i’m yours. ❞ ❝ wars need not be fought until the last drop of blood. ❞ ❝ one voice may speak you false, but in many there is always truth to be found. ❞ ❝ when it comes to battle, discipline beats valour every time. ❞ ❝ sometimes the best thing you can do is nothing. ❞ ❝ it is too late for ifs, and too late for rescues. all that remains is vengeance. ❞ ❝ only blood can pay for blood. ❞ ❝ why do you hesitate? kill him, and be done. ❞ ❝ i will fall into those eyes and drown. ❞ ❝ harsh justice is still justice. ❞ ❝ i am cleverer than most, surely wits count for something. ❞ ❝ there’s a storm coming. a bad one. ❞ ❝ men will read all sorts of things into a knowing smile if you let them. ❞ ❝ the greatest fools are ofttimes more clever than the men who laugh at them. ❞ ❝ all these kings would do a deal better if they would put down their swords and listen to their mothers. ❞ ❝ you were made to be kissed, often and well. ❞ ❝ i walk alone with no true companion but tears. ❞ ❝ there is a savage beast in every man, and when you hand that man a sword or spear and send him forth to war, the beast stirs. ❞ ❝ there are fights no swords can win. ❞ ❝ here you are my guest, and safe from harm at my hands...this night, at least. ❞ ❝ i love the smell of you. i love your hair. i love your mouth, and the way you kiss me. ❞ ❝ i am alive, and drunk on sunlight. ❞ ❝ we look up at the same stars and see such different things. ❞ ❝ let them kill me. so long as i die fighting, a blade in hand. ❞ ❝ they are still behind us. they are taking us one by one. ❞ ❝ cry if you must. in your place, i would likely rip my hair out. ❞ ❝ would you wake me, please? i’m having this terrible nightmare. ❞ ❝ i know what it is like to love so greatly you can think of nothing else. ❞ ❝ if truth be told, i’m bored with your company. ❞ ❝ i am tired of fighting you. what say we make a truce? ❞ ❝ no man grows rich by kindness. ❞ ❝ it is well you did not lie to me. i would have known. ❞ ❝ the blood of my enemies i will shed gladly. the blood of innocents is another matter. ❞ ❝ i do not know who you are, and it may be that’s for the best. someone important, i fear. ❞ ❝ is every word you say a lie? ❞ ❝ why should i tell you my name? you haven’t told me yours. ❞ ❝ you are weak as a child, and no warrior. ❞ ❝ if i look back i am lost. ❞ ❝ if you lie to me, i will have your tongue. ❞ ❝ you’ve grown more amusing since last we met. ❞ ❝ i wonder if i might have a few private words? ❞ ❝ i dreamed a dream, no more. go back to sleep. ❞ ❝ this is a bad place, is it not? a dark place, and foul. ❞ ❝ i did not intend to give offence. forgive me. ❞ ❝ you have never feared to speak the truth, why do you lie to yourself? ❞ ❝ the music’s still playing. might i have this dance? ❞ ❝ your eyes give the lie to your tongue. ❞ ❝ let me go now. for our friendship, wish me luck and let me go ❞ ❝ a wise man never makes an enemy of a king. ❞ ❝ this must be our last time together. the danger is too great. ❞ ❝ some day try thinking before you speak. ❞ ❝ i have a dragon’s temper, that’s all. you must not let it frighten you. ❞ ❝ you must not be saying such things, even in jest. ❞ ❝ what we want is not always what we get. ❞ ❝ put up that sword now, unless you want to be hurt. ❞ ❝ sometimes a man knows more than he says. ❞ ❝ when i don’t fancy a man’s eyes, i put an arrow through one. ❞ ❝ my heart is full of doubts. ❞ ❝ in times like this, we must make do as best we can. ❞ ❝ i never dreamed how quick the sweet would turn to sour. ❞ ❝ my skin has turned to porcelain, to ivory, to steel. ❞ ❝ the stink of death is fresh on you. ❞ ❝ you have repaid betrayal with betrayal, let it end. ❞ ❝ the higher the man climbs the farther he has to fall. ❞ ❝ i was hoping one look at this sweet face of mine would be enough to persuade you all of my innocence. ❞ ❝ after all the storms we’ve suffered, you should trust me better. ❞ ❝ you can kill your enemies, but can you rule your friends? ❞ ❝ could there be honor in a lie, if it were told for a good purpose? ❞ ❝ i am the monster they all say i am. ❞ ❝ pray excuse me, i need to hit someone very hard with a sword. ❞ ❝ you did your best to kill me. perhaps i ought to return the favor. ❞ ❝ you do, don’t you? you take me for a fool. ❞ ❝ we’re all just songs in the end, if we’re lucky. ❞ ❝ there is a long league’s worth of difference between wilful and stupid. ❞ ❝ you...a man like you brings blood with him. ❞ ❝ when did i make so many enemies? ❞ ❝ i must be strong. if i despair, my grief will consume me. ❞ ❝ give me sweet lies, and keep your bitter truths. ❞ ❝ i know what it is to be betrayed by men you trusted. ❞ ❝ all my victories turn to dross in my hands. ❞ ❝ it is a pleasure to look on you again, even in such trying times. ❞ ❝ are you scared? have you lost your belly for fighting? ❞ ❝ you were so long, i feared something had gone amiss. ❞ ❝ any man who must say ‘i am king’ is no true king at all. ❞ ❝ always keep your foes confused. if they are never certain who you are or what you want, they cannot know what you are like to do next. ❞ ❝ small men curse what they cannot understand. ❞ ❝ if you’re lying to me again, you won’t be leaving here alive. ❞ ❝ it all goes back and back to our mothers and fathers and theirs before them. we are puppets dancing on the strings of those who came before us. ❞ ❝ when you know what a man wants you know who he is, and how to move him. ❞ ❝ a pure world. i do not belong here. ❞ ❝ you make me sorry that i am not the monster you would have me be. ❞ ❝ i crossed a thousand leagues to come to you, and lost the best part of me along the way. don't tell me to leave. ❞ ❝ my big mouth will be the death of me, i swear it. ❞ ❝ we have suffered much, and there is more peril and more grief ahead. ❞ ❝ i...i suppose i earned that. ❞ ❝ begging for help never gets you any. ❞ ❝ you’re not made to lie. you blush and squeak and stammer. ❞ ❝ one day you must tell me all. the good and the bad. ❞ ❝ and there is stands, miserable as it is. my ancestral home. ❞ ❝ whatever i do, all i make is death and horror. ❞ ❝ it is safer to walk in darkness here. there are things you would not wish to see. ❞ ❝ you have a certain cunning, but the plain truth is you talk too much. ❞ ❝ that might have hurt me once, when i still felt pain. ❞ ❝ we will fight a battle, and then we will rest. alive or dead, we'll rest. ❞ ❝ every man must die. but first he must live. ❞ ❝ all night i have been making songs for you in my head. ❞ ❝ my blood, my body, my songs, you own them all. ❞ ❝ if you lie i’ll punch your face. ❞ ❝ what a fight that was, and what a foe. ❞ ❝ be quiet. i will tell you when you can speak. ❞ ❝ forgive me. you have to forgive me. ❞ ❝ never lie to me. never betray me. ❞ ❝ there are two sorts of people. the players and the pieces. ❞ ❝ the only thing i value less than my life right now is yours. ❞ ❝ perhaps i should leave you here to rot if you’re going to be so discourteous. ❞ ❝ i hadn’t forgotten, though i hoped you had. ❞ ❝ i can still bite and kick. i’ll die with the taste of blood in my mouth, that’s something. ❞ ❝ you bray like an ass, and make no more sense. ❞ ❝ you do not belong here. this is not your place. ❞ ❝ i’m not going back to sleep. my head is all a tumult. ❞ ❝ some doors are best left closed. ❞ ❝ it does not matter how brave or brilliant a man is, if his commands cannot be heard. ❞ ❝ a man who fears battle wins no victories. ❞ ❝ you’re not half bad with a sword, but you’re not good enough to take on two hundred men by yourself. ❞ ❝ that is a good color on you. it goes well with your eyes. ❞ ❝ if blood is what you wish, then let it flow. ❞ ❝ i liked you well enough...but i never trusted you. a man needs to earn my trust. ❞ ❝ it is good to see you know who i am. ❞ ❝ i have told you no lies. yet there have been truths i have withheld. ❞ ❝ pardon me if i do not weep for you. ❞ ❝ you’ll find nothing here but death. ❞ ❝ don’t...don’t talk like this. you’re scaring me. ❞ ❝ you must be very brave or very stupid. ❞ ❝ i gave you the truth. you owe me the same. ❞ ❝ that loose tongue of yours will be your undoing. ❞ ❝ i must have fire in my eyes when i face them, not tears. ❞ ❝ it will take more than an arrow to kill you. ❞ ❝ the sound’s inside, it’s in here with us, and it’s getting louder. ❞ ❝ see? we know each other too well. ❞ ❝ you meddle in matters you do not understand. ❞ ❝ i have no luck. i have never had any bloody luck. ❞ ❝ do all gods feel so lonely? ❞ ❝ you are strangely quiet. how do you feel, i wonder? ❞ ❝ stop trying to think up ways to kill me. none of it will do you any bit of good. ❞ ❝ all you need to do is take my hand, come on. ❞ ❝ we’re together, just as you’ve always wanted, just as we’ve always planned. ❞ ❝ wars are won with quills and ravens. ❞ ❝ if only i had my sword, nothing could harm me. ❞ ❝ a valiant deed unsung is no less valiant. ❞ ❝ there are wolves in these woods, and worse things. ❞ ❝ say nothing of what we’ve discussed here today. to anyone. ❞ ❝ you’d best go. you’re making me angry. ❞ ❝ fear cuts deeper than swords. ❞ ❝ an ill-omened name. i have asked you not to use it. ❞ ❝ you cannot hide from me. come closer, now. ❞ ❝ there’s no cause for all these tears. ❞ ❝ it is good that you have woken, but you must give yourself time to heal. ❞ ❝ there is no honor in hiding and sneaking. ❞ ❝ come with me. we have to get away from here, and now. ❞ ❝ kings are falling like leaves this autumn. ❞ ❝ you don’t know half as much as you think you do. ❞ ❝ you seem so sombre. is aught amiss? ❞

[heavenly--knight]

🪶Like birds of a feather we were meant to be together ...🪶

A saint Michael the archangel hazbin hotel blog (a oc)

Guarded by Steph

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All icons are icons that are from artists like lima jey who have a similar design to my version, but edited

🌟 my Lucifer Morningstar rp blog: @hells-ringleader 🌟

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🛡like for a starter 🛡

⚜️rules here⚜️ (18+ RULE ADDED FOR THIS BLOG)

⚖️crossover and oc friendly

🦢headcanons🦢 (more under #headcanons:war canons)

⚔️semi. Sel./slightly canon divergent/ocs and crossover muses welcome/indie. ⚔️

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🕊I ship guitarhero/songbird as my main ship here!!🕊

Tags:

Ship tags:

#guitarhero: love in war

#eve x michael: a calm in the storm

Esc:

#ooc: out of heaven ~ mun speaking

#rp memes: starting point ~prompts and magic anons for rp

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Character tags:

#michael: the archangel of justice

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#lilith: the firey queen of hell

#azrael: the archangel of death

(And other character tags im not tagging them all)

[sallysavestheday]

Heya, sentence starter prompt for you! <3

"In Fingon's humble opinion, this really wasn't his fault."

Thank you! Have 100 words of Russingon oops. <3

In Fingon's humble opinion, this really wasn't his fault. He made some dimpled half-effort at reproach, stretching and yawning, all soft skin and tangled hair and velvet eyes. Maedhros only laughed and held him closer, thinking, No, it was only that you rose out of the lake like a golden lily, like a sword, and what else was I to do with my empty hand but claim you? I am greedy, and you are everything beautiful. The wind rattled the tent, presaging storms, but inside they were warm, so wound together. Invulnerable to rain. Accidentally, but with tender certainty, wed.

[abiiors]

17. thunderstorms - ross x reader

a/n: this is literally so fucking self-indulgent but i yearn for this so much i can't even find it in myself to be embarrased

cw: smoking weed, some kissing and touching but very very tame

“it looks like it might rain outside,” you point to the window, leaning against ross’ chest. a moment later, the sky rumbles, briefly flashing, and you feel smoke caress your earlobe, followed by the familiar earthy, grassy smell. 

he hums, voice deeper than before and right next to your ear. 

“should we do something?”

you turn your face, parting your lips a little so he can place the joint between them. the smoke makes warmth bloom in your chest. a second later, ross takes the joint back, inhaling the smoke again.

“i was thinking about restarting that zelda game we like so much.”

“oh yeah?”

his chest vibrates when he speaks, scattering goosebumps over your arms. you’re about to speak when another rumble cuts you off. then the first fat raindrop hits the window. 

“would you play with me?”

ross makes a show of thinking, pointing one accusatory finger at you. “you always chuck the joycons at me when the fights get hard,” he snickers, flicking your nose when you wrinkle it at him. the joint dangles between his lips, smouldering. you can’t resist placing a little kiss on his jaw. 

“because you’re so much better than i am!” you whine. 

“how will you get better if you don’t play!”

“is it not enough that i can sit here and cheer you on?”

you both stare at each other, noses almost touching, your side pressed against his chest and your back resting against his knee. a second later he exhales, blowing smoke right into your parted mouth. somehow this feels better than smoking on your own. 

“go on, get it then.” he smiles when you whoop, stumbling off the bed to turn the console on and get the joycons. 

when you’re back he pulls you into his chest again, slotted between his legs with his arms firmly around you. your bare legs spread out on the bed—it was a muggy summer day until the storm started and you’ve rather taken to wearing just his t-shirts and underwear around the house for comfort’s sake. most of the time. 

the rain gains speed, more fat raindrops hitting the window. it’s the perfect rhythm, you think. or maybe it’s the weed thinking that, making its way through your bloodstream. the world feels slower, softer around the edges. 

you stare at the colours on the starter screen, mesmerised. 

“that’s you,” he points at the screen when the first cut scene ends. you wrinkle your nose and flick him in the shin. “that pig-like monster?!”

“no, you idiot,” he giggles, kissing the shell of your ear and takes another drag of the joint. you have a sudden and visceral urge to kiss him, to feel that smoke entering your lungs again. 

“that old man. you’d love to be unnecessarily cryptic and sit by the fire roasting apples.”

you hmph, unable to contradict really because he is right. a second later he turns your face to his, as if he’s read your mind, and kisses you. his lips feel warm from the smoke, soft from your lip balm that he keeps stealing. his beard tickles a little and you laugh. 

when he lets go, he holds the spliff in front of your lips, letting you take a small drag. 

the sound of the rain fills the room, along with the click of your joycons. link grunts every few seconds, in the middle of a fight, and slashes at enemies left and right with a measly rusty sword. every few seconds ross leans and kisses your neck. 

“tickles,” you laugh, “you’re being very distracting.”

“am i? i thought you were a pro at this.” 

and just to hammer home the point, his hands push under your t-shirt, caressing the underside of your boob, thumb flicking over the nipple in a way that’s barely a brush. and yet you feel as if the thunderstorm outside suddenly enters your body. 

you briefly let go of the joycons, twisting your hands into his t-shirt and kiss him again. it’s a leisurely, slow kiss—mostly indulgent and lazy and soft. his hand lingers over your ribs, right under your t-shirt and still brushing against your nipple softly. ross holds the joint far away from you so he won’t burn either of you by accident.

right when his kiss turns a little more intense, a thwack echoes in the room. you break apart, giggling, laughing louder when the ‘game over’ screen blinks at you. 

“look at that, you’ve killed link!” you poke his chest. 

ross traces his thumb over your lip, dragging it down and letting it go. “i guess i am being distracting.”

you take the joint from his hands, handing him the controllers in return. “go on. your turn.”

“and what will you do?”

“stare at the rain, i think.”

you look out the window. it’s raining in sheets by now, so hard you can barely see the neighbour’s house anymore. the trees outside sway lightly, leaves dancing under raindrops. your head feels heavy, so do your eyelids. you could fall asleep like this, cocooned by the warmth of his body and surrounded by his smell. 

“you’d fall asleep,” ross catches you instantly. or maybe it’s that your eyelids are already drooping and you’ve turned into a ball against his body. 

“would that be so bad?”

he hums, threading his fingers through your hair, tucking a stray strand behind your ear. you smile at his tenderness. 

“you’ve played two minutes of the game you insisted on playing!”

you pout at ross, hoping the big eyes would have some effect on him. a second later he rolls his eyes and tucks your face into his chest. you feel him take the joint out of your hands, put it out in the ashtray on the nightstand. 

“this was your plan from the beginning, wasn't it!”

you shrug, already snuggling into him, as cosy as you can be while he restarts the game, goes through the same motions you were before but at a much faster rate. and even when your eyes close of their own accord you can tell where he is in the game based on the soundtrack alone. 

“that’s you,” you point blindly at the screen. he pauses. 

“that…apple tree?”

“noooo,” you laugh, properly slurring your words. “link. brave knight rescuing the princess and everything. from nasty boss fights in your case.”

“alright, princess,” he chuckles and kisses the crown of your hair. “go sleep now. i’ll wake you up if something interesting happens.”

[dragonologist-writings]

Title: Love & War Fandom: Pathfinder: Wrath of the Righteous Rating: M Status: Complete (19/19) Main Characters: Knight-Commander Cleo Ironbark, Queen Galfrey Supporting Characters: Yozz, Arueshalae, Woljif, Wenduag, Ember, Irahai, Nocticula, Hand of the Inheritor Ships: Knight-Commander/Queen Galfrey Additional Notes: Complicated Relationships, Angst, Rivals to Enemies to Lovers, Demon to Legend Mythic Path, Canon-Typical Themes, Minor Character Death Word Count: 72.8k Summary:

Galfrey was a queen, a paladin, an icon for all that was righteous and just in the Crusades. Cleo was a barbarian, a tiefling, a personification of demonic chaos. By all rights and logic, the two should have been at each other's throats- and often, they were. But somehow, through war and struggle and sacrifice, they ended up finding more in each other than either ever expected.

read here on ao3

Chaper 1 Below:

The first impression Queen Galfrey of Mendev formed of Cleo, warrior of the Ironbark tribe, was not a kind one.

To be completely fair, the Queen’s opinion was not wholly condemning, either. It was quite impossible for Galfrey to condemn the woman who had pulled Kenabres from the burning jaws of the demons. Every report given to the Queen repeated the same story: Cleo of Ironbark had bravely led the charge against the evil cultists and demons who threatened the city. Cleo of Ironbark had stormed the Grey Garrison and saved them all from the poison of the corrupted Wardstone. Cleo of Ironbark was a hero.

But Cleo of Ironbark was also…raucous.

“Another round!” the warrior cried, holding her tankard aloft, and the celebrating soldiers cheered along with her. The tankard was refilled without a moment’s hesitation, and after taking a long drink, Kenabres’s champion resumed her dramatic recounting of the day’s battle. Her voice carried across the tavern, rising above the din of the crowd and filling the large room with echoes of her bravado. Irabeth and Anevia sat at her side, listening to the tale with fond weariness and open amusement, respectively.

Galfrey kept to the corner of the tavern, holding her tongue and a humble mug of ale as she watched the theatrics unfold. Her retinue was waiting outside; she’d ordered them to give her fifteen minutes of peace before following her in. The guards were always so touchy about letting her out of their sight, as if she couldn’t handle herself perfectly well.

The Queen sighed at herself. That was unfair; they were merely doing their job. Under normal circumstances, she would have been content to let them do so. But a procession of guards was something that tended to be noticed, and in this instance, she’d wished to make her observations from a place of relative anonymity. She’d feared she might be noticed anyhow, but no; the people’s attention was centered solely on the sword-bearing storyteller who had already nearly drained her third serving of ale. This could only be the famous Cleo- who else would be drawing such adulation from the victorious crusaders?

Yet, she was not quite what Galfrey had expected.

For starters, Cleo was clearly not of Kenabres. Not a fact all that odd on its own, perhaps, but she was no ordinary traveler, either. She wore the furs and leather armor of the northern barbarians, and when she called out to the crowds, a Kellid accent made itself clear in her words. As if a lone tribeswoman in the middle of a Mendevian city wasn’t odd enough, the people’s new hero was also a tiefling. With skin of deep green and small horns that poked through her dark, close-shorn hair, her abyssal heritage was impossible to miss.

Even so, the notoriously suspicious Mendevians around her watched with high-spirited adulation as she spoke, her tail lashing enthusiastically behind her all the while.

“-and then,” she was saying, “just when we all thought we were well and truly fucked, I charged for the Wardstone. Minagho tried to stop me, but it was too late for her- I had my blade in my hands, and I took the biggest swing of my life, and with just one strike I shattered that corrupted chunk of stone!”

She mimed the motion of her attack, and the crowds shouted their appreciation. Their cheers brought a cocky grin to Cleo’s lips, revealing sharp-tipped teeth.

“And of course once that was taken care of, Minagho didn’t stand a chance. Shame she’s so good at running away, but there’s plenty other demons out there to slay!”

This declaration brought another round of victorious shouts, but Galfrey remained reticent. The scene so far had only served to cement her final impression of Cleo of Ironbark: that she was in possession of a concerning degree of reckless arrogance. Cleo spoke loudly and cursed often; she lauded her own daring exploits; she relished in stretching out her arms to display the scars lining her well-toned muscles to her crowd of admirers.

Galfrey was hardly unaccustomed to such personality. The thrill of victory could go to any soldier’s head, especially when aided by ale and applause. But she had been hoping for something more substantial from the savior of the city, and to find behavior which bordered upon unseemly was…disappointing.

Across the room, Cleo let out a loud laugh and leapt to her feet, very nearly tripping over her chair in the process. She teetered over Anevia, leaned down, and- inexplicably- blew a kiss onto the small charm in Anevia’s hands. They both laughed again at the action, even as Irabeth swatted at her wife’s shoulder in half-hearted chastisement.

In spite of herself, Galfrey felt her lips pull reluctantly into a smile. Her judgments were harsh; revelry could certainly be permitted in times like this. This was a celebration, after all, and here she was sulking in the corner and thinking dour thoughts. It must be the endless war meetings taking their toll, fixing her into this permanently somber state. After so many decades, it was growing increasingly difficult to escape such a mindset, especially when she’d spent the majority of the march to Kenabres half-expecting to find nothing but a funeral pyre.

Instead, she’d found a city in the throes of exhilarating victory. Such a state was infinitely preferable, and the leader who’d made it possible had more than earned herself a carefree night.

With that thought in mind, Galfrey threw back a swig of ale and strode forward to join her subjects at their table. Her fifteen minutes of peace were almost up, and it was time to make her presence known. Better to make a jovial introduction, she decided, rather than be a weight upon the soldiers’ high spirits.

The reactions her reveal garnered were much what Galfrey expected: Irabeth snapped to immediate attention, the nearby soldiers backed away to a respectful distance, and even Anevia straightened her posture and pushed her drink away.

But not Cleo. Cleo just watched, dark eyes giving away nothing as she granted the Queen a lazy smile. “Have I had too much to drink, or are you really who I think you are?”

“That depends a good deal on who you think I am, doesn’t it?” Galfrey countered evenly. She kept her voice lighthearted, welcoming, and held out her hand in a simple greeting. “Galfrey, of Mendev.”

Cleo regarded the offered gesture for a moment, her gaze sliding from Galfrey’s hand to meet her eyes. The edges of her smile grew more pronounced. “I see the rumors were not exaggerated. Pleasure to make your royal acquaintance.” Without breaking her stare, Cleo wrapped her calloused fingers around Galfrey’s, and she brought Galfrey’s hand to her lips.

The kiss she laid on Galfrey’s skin was short, but her eyes stayed fixed on the Queen- testing her, Galfrey realized. Pressing to see how quickly Galfrey would pull away.

Indignation surged through Galfrey’s veins, but she had decades of practice in disguising her annoyances.  She did not pull away, nor did she flinch under that taunting gaze; she waited until Cleo’s touch retreated, and only then did she withdraw her hand.

“Thank you for the compliment,” she said stiffly, and Cleo chuckled.

“Didn’t say what the rumors were, did I? But you are quite welcome, your royal highness. To what do I owe the honor of your visit?”

The words were simply dripping with mockery, and Galfrey almost changed her mind right then and there. The mission she’d meant to bequeath upon the hero of Kenabres required some modicum of respect and discipline, and she could just as easily enlist any of her current generals who actually displayed those qualities.

Except…none of those generals, in all their years of service, had accomplished anything like the feat this woman already performed. If even half of what Cleo claimed was true, she should be dead ten times over. That meant that this woman was either a braggart lying through her teeth…or she truly possessed the type of power the Crusades so desperately needed.

It was a risk, to gamble on the latter option in such a way. But the war had been locked in a stalemate for far too long. Perhaps a certain amount of risk was warranted.

And besides, Galfrey reminded herself, Cleo was currently deep in her cups. In all likelihood, she would wake in the morning somewhat sheepish and ready to approach their arrangement with a bit more propriety.

“The Queen graces me with her presence, I see.”

Galfrey stifled a sigh as she entered the Cleo’s tent. Outside, troops bustled in preparation for the march to Drezen, their shouts and orders mingling with the familiar clang of plated armor. The soldiers had been all too eager to accept the hero of Kenabres as their new Knight-Commander- much more eager than Cleo was to actually act the part. The obstinate woman lounged at her table of maps, not even rising to her feet as she greeted Galfrey with her usual taunt.

This was a worthy gamble, the Queen reminded herself. This inexplicable hostility was a small price to pay, if her newly-appointed Knight-Commander truly had a chance at cracking Drezen.

“Indeed. This mission is a matter of great importance, Commander,” Galfrey said, happy to hear that her voice came out smooth, betraying none of her frustrations. She allowed the weight of her authority to creep in on that last word, hoping to emphasize the importance of the title. “Reclaiming Drezen would be an unimaginable boon to the Crusades…as I have told you. The people believe in you. You have ignited their courage, and their hope. It is these virtues which will bring us to victory.”

“You can ease off the speeches in here, you know. Save us both the time,” Cleo drawled, not bothering to lift her attention away from the maps spread out before her.

Galfrey scowled and moved closer, setting her hands firmly over the maps and papers covering the table. “We are all putting our trust in you. This is not something I say lightly, and I cannot leave without knowing that we have an understanding.”

For the first time, Galfrey’s words actually seemed to have an effect on Cleo; her lazy smile disappeared, and her dark eyes narrowed as she studied the Queen standing before her. She even rose from her seat so as to meet Galfrey eye-to-eye across the narrow table. She shucked off her fur cloak as she stood, revealing broad shoulders laced with scars and decorated with geometric tattoos which wound around the back of her neck.

“And where will you be,” Cleo asked, steady and sharp, “while we charge off fearlessly to victory?”

Galfrey arched an eyebrow, surprised, but it seemed an honest question. “I shall be preparing the defenses at Nerosyan and its sister cities, and planning the future of the Fifth Crusade. Does this satisfy your curiosity, Commander?”

Cleo gave an undignified snort, a look of self-satisfaction flashing across her face. “Should’ve known.”

“Do you have something to say?” Galfrey demanded harshly. Such a rebuke would have shaken any of her courtiers or generals. Even now, knowing Cleo as she did, she half-expected the other woman to step back at the sound of her cutting displeasure.

But of course the Commander did not such thing. She actually leaned closer, eyes flashing, as she hissed, “Just that what you mean to say is that you’ll be watching the battle from the rear, safe and hidden away in some cushy palace while your soldiers bloody the battlefield. Can’t say I’m surprised. I’m sure a throne room is much more amenable to your sensibilities than a war camp.”

Her sensibilities? Galfrey’s jaw clenched. This feckless stranger hadn’t the faintest idea what she was speaking of- what did she know of the battles Galfrey had seen, the blood she herself had spilled in the name of Iomedae? She knew nothing, and Galfrey owed her no explanation for any of it.

“I have already overlooked many instances of insubordination, Commander,” Galfrey said, her voice low. “Do not test me further.”

The warning was a serious one, and perhaps Cleo sensed it. She paused, her face still close, searching the Queen’s expression for- well, Galfrey still wasn’t quite sure. But at last, she let out a quiet breath and turned away.

“It’s only insubordination if you’re the one in charge,” she said, almost conversationally. “From where I sit, you’re not the one doing the leading on this particular mission. If you’ve really got the mettle, march on Drezen with us. You’ve been making all your speeches about how pivotal this mission is for your Crusade. So prove it.”

A few seconds passed in which Galfrey could not form a response. Cleo made no secret of her disdain for the Queen’s presence- why would she make this offer now? Cleo tilted her chin, boldly staring down Galfrey as she waited for an answer.

“It has been a very long time,” Galfrey said slowly, archly, with as much authority as she could muster, “since anyone has dared to speak to me in such a manner. I must ask, what is it you are hoping to accomplish?”

Cleo shrugged. “Believe it or not, I’m not actually trying to offend. I don’t know you well enough to know whether I want to offend you or not. And that’s the point. Where I’m from, we don’t give respect based on fancy titles. We respect the people who’ve earned it.” She paused, her eyes roving over Galfrey’s polished armor. “Whatever you believe about me, I do want to win this war. But I also like to know the people I’m fighting with.”

“On that, at least, we can agree.” Galfrey frowned as she found herself seriously considering the offer- no, the challenge. That was what this brash, impetuous tiefling had thrown at her feet. A challenge.

“Very well,” Galfrey said. “We march together.”

A grin crossed Cleo’s face, catching Galfrey by surprise yet again. “Looking forward to it.” She laughed, and the grin widened to show off her pointed teeth. “We’re gonna make those demons wish they never crawled out of their mothers’ hellholes.”

When Galfrey left the tent, she told herself this was a sound decision, made for sound reasons. The advance would benefit from her presence, and this way she could keep an eye on her new unpredictable Commander. All her reasons were all true, which made them all that much easier to believe.

But a small part of her whispered that the truth of it was…it had been so long since someone had truly challenged her. Maybe she just wanted to see what would come of it, and of this unprecedented Knight-Commander.

Gods above, Galfrey thought, shaking her head at herself as the thoughts rattled through her mind. What have I just unleashed upon the world?

[turboacek-blog]

Tenten if she was the main character

Not to be taken too seriously

Written Jan 24, 2023 (clearing drafts lol)

Just wanted to explore some power-ups weapons etc… that could have been given if she had time to actually expand etc

Custom weapon

We get a taste of her gigantic iron ball in the filler episodes I believe

But when she already mastered all weapons at 13 then the next step is a special weapon just for her

They even kinda touch on this in the games, in NUNS4 the Shikamaru adventure side quest has her make a custom weapon and Shikamaru is impressed by how she made it so she has the ability to mix and mash weapons to make something unique

And I don’t need her to be a villain/antagonist but she could have easily been the scientific ninja tool starter as it ties into her weapon-like

Sealing

We see her keep her weapons in scrolls but I think just expanding on sealing outside of the regular item storage summoning could have worked

From just having it more available like how Sasuke has his wristbands that he can use to easily reverse summoned Shuriken and etc

To going Fate’s Gilgamesh and summoning them out of thin air

Like people joke about characters using kunai and etc but in reality if someone had the chance to slit a character like Madara’s throat if he doesn’t get healed up immediately he would have died

Random ideas I had:

Seal tattoos

Just think that if she made herself the storage she can just send chakra through her body and the weapon will pop out and to having seals all on her would effectively be tattoos,

Can be how Naruto’s seal works where only active with chakra, or something more permanent and she’s totally inked out

Just think it would be cool if she just sent chakra to her shoulder then out came a shield or sent to her finger and some Shuriken popped out, her palm a sword, her foot a tanto etc

Switchable weapon

Similar idea but she links her weapons with seals so that if she sends chakra through the seal it swaps out the weapon automatically like she’s using the staff then with some chakra it swaps to a sword mid motion then chakra agin now it’s a mace

Based on the part 1 Tenten from the Storm games where she just cycles through weapons instantly in her Taijutsu combos

Plus woul be a unique weapon for her as only she would know how to send chakra to get the weapon she wants

Lastly legendary weapons

Kishimoto had the right idea with having her use the six paths weapons

The thing was due to her chakra she couldn’t use it a lot

So I think it would be nice to start that idea earlier and she uses/acquires legendary weapons

From the 7 swords of the mist, to more filler weapons like that Thunder sword that was apparently the second Hokage to just not as known to us weapons like Sakumo’s/Kakashi’s chakra blade that glowed white is a good idea

But yeah I just think they took this character that can use any weapon and mostly relegated her to long range kunai throwing as they focused more on her accuracy than her weapon mastery as in any other anime she would be using a sword a ton or if she sticks to long range would be some menace like Gilgamesh or plenty of archers or snipers and etc

[pokemanix]

Official Professor Kukui Cards from the Pokémon TCG

Professor Kukui (124 and 148) - Sun & Moon The Masked Royal (139) - Sun & Moon: Celestial Storm The Masked Royal (085/SM-P) - SM-P Promo Rockruff (TG07) - Sword & Shield: Silver Tempest Trainer Gallery Rockruff (11) - Satoshi vs Team Rocket Battle Set Professor’s Research (Professor Kukui) (168) - Starter Deck Generations

[mintyisms]

Neopets: Curse of Maraqua Starters

taken from the archived version of the comic on JellyNeo

"Go on! I'll watch for grown ups."

"What a splendid party. It's time we paid them a visit, don't you think?"

"You fool! You have no idea who rules these waters!"

"No one dares speak his name for fear of attracting his attention."

"The clouds look angry. We're in for a bad storm."

"Two swords are better than one."

"Who are you? Stay away from me!"

"Those of you who surrender can become part of my crew, and those who do not will walk the plank."

"There is no place for you to go, no one to help you but me."

"If they find you, they will never let you return home."

"You can stay here until your wound has healed."

"I brought you something to eat. How are you feeling?"

"There is nothing but death ahead of you on the seas."

"I am banished, remember?"

"I did not ask for my nightmares. They horrify me in my sleep, and my waking hours are filled with loneliness."

"I never believed the legends, but now I have seen them."

"Back off, or I'll gut you like a herring!"

"Easy now. Put that away. We don't want trouble here."

"There is a cave that we are forbidden to go near."

"We can't waste time waiting for help that may never come. I'm going in!"

"Look, another pretty toy for us to play with."

"It's such a relief to find you. I thought I had lost you forever."

"How do I know you will come to help us?"

"That beast will pay for this insult a thousand times over."

"That's truly an amazing blade you have there."

"Now! Climb as fast as you can!"

"We have the element of surprise."

"You are a fool to think they will heed your warnings."

"This battle is almost over, and we've barely begun."

"I've never been one to run from a fight. I just wish we had more help."

"Now hold on a minute. Don't you think we need some sort of plan?"

"Do your own dirty work."

"I have something more powerful than that sword."

"I have not forgotten how to fight."

"I swore to never take another life, but for you I will make an exception."

"I know what life is like in the city, and it is not for me."

"I need excitement and treasure, not silk sheets and politics."

[officialdaydreamer00]

Child Of Wisdom, Legacy of the Dreams

irene lore, twst x pjo

in which the prefect has kept a secret from her friends, a rather godly one, to say.

character: irene lovejoy (aka the prefect), grim, ace, deuce

content: mentions of greek mythology and its questionable lore, monster attacks, weapons. it's PJO what did you expect

to ace and deuce, the prefect was a mysterious person.

it was not the fact that her being a girl enrolled and was studying at NRC, a all-boys private college. no, it was because there was just something that never made sense about her.

for starters, she had this aura around her that made everyone, especially those who interacted with her feel a strange sense of inferiority, as if she wasn't entirely human. no one could ever put a finger on it, however.

her appearance initially, when she revealed herself during the welcoming ceremony caught them off guard. she was tall, taller than both of them by a couple centimetres, and rather athletic-looking. she had a light tan complexion which glinted nicely in the sun. her hair was ink black with a single streak of white framing the left side of her face. at first, they thought it was dyed as a fashion choice, but when they asked her about it, the prefect only smiled albeit grimly, shaking her head and left.

deuce didn't know if his eyes had problems, and he was sure as hell he didn't. sometimes when he stared at the prefect's eyes for long enough, he swore he saw the sea green slowly bleed into a startling shade of grey, like storm clouds rumbling in the rain. pretty, but intimidating, too, as if she was analysing the best way to overthrow headmaster crowley and make professor crewel the new one. when he blinked, however, they were the same shade of sea green he was familiar with.

ace didn't know how the prefect did it, but she had somehow renovated ramshackle dorm into what seemed to be a pantheon by the time school's festival and the vdc approached. everyone was pleasantly surprised to see the simple yet intricate designs of the marble walls and the detailed paintings on the ceilings, and the marvellous library filled to the brim with books in english and a language they didn't recognise. housewarden vil commended her creative mind and efforts nonetheless.

the prefect was indeed an unsolved mystery. she was seen with owls surrounding her serene laughing figure, as she treated each one with such care that could only rival jade leech's obsession with mushrooms and nature. she sacrificed the best part of her dinner to the hearth that always burn brightly in ramshackle's living room. and someone swore they saw her with a bronze sword running into the forests, and leaving with golden dust clung to her uniform, but they could never provide any evidence afterwards. it was as if someone put blinds over their eyes, preventing them from seeing the truth.

that was what ace and deuce got from their observation. it didn't make much sense to them, but they wouldn't want to pry, no matter how curious they were. they trusted the prefect, and she trusted them. she would tell them one day, right?

... right?

it was just another day affter school. ace and deuce accompanied the prefect and grim back to ramshackle when a loud rustle coming from their right. the sudden sound made the group jumped.

"what was that?" ace exclaimed, clutching the fabric near his chest.

"myahh, probably just some animals sniffin' around the place." grim grumbled, snuggling into the prefect's hold.

the prefect, however, froze. she felt a shiver running down her spine as her eyes darted around in alarm. that, of course, didn't escape the eyes of the two students walking beside her.

"prefect? is something wrong?" deuce asked, concerned for his friend as he looked around as well. "what is it that makes you like... that?"

she didn't answer. shoving grim into deuce's arms, to which the cat monster yowled indignantly, her eyes locked on the direction of the sound. her hand moving to her earring, which was an odd looking, pointy silver cross.

"ace, deuce." they heard. there was a serious look on her face, which was rather strange to see. "take grim back to ramshackle, and stay there until i come back."

"wait, what-" their question were promptly cut off. "and do not, follow me. i mean it." she said, pointing her finger at them. then she sighed, her serious face turned weary.

"i know you have a lot of questions, but save it until i come back. i'll tell you everything when i do."

and at that, the prefect bolted straight into the forest, tugging the earring off of her ear, leaving behind a baffled trio who stared at her silhouette until she disappeared. ace and deuce shared a single look, a nod in silent agreement, and then they ran.

not to ramshackle, however, but after her.

metals clashing. sounds of people shouting in a different language. faint yet distinct thumping of boots that their prefect always wore. they all led the two to a clearer part of the forest behind ramshackle dorm.

there, they saw the prefect holding a baseball bat, swinging it at a bald middle aged man in a trench coat. she had a cold glare fixated on the weird man, and continued to try and strike him down.

the man, on the other hand, they had a feeling that this man was anything but normal. probably because his figure was constantly flickering from a bald man to a guy with long brown mane for hair. or it could be that he had a sinister look on his face as he jumped around the place, trying to tackle her.

the prefect, now sported a feral grin on her face, skidded below the man and swung her bat. a sickeningly loud "shwing!!" echoed all over the woods, and with that, ace and deuce finally saw the real being behind the flicker.

it was a horrifyingly giant monster, with the face of a man, the body of a lion and the tail of a scorpion, which was sliced off clean. it roared in pain and anger, and once again tried to pin her down with its oversized paws.

the prefect moved into another stance. in her hand was, to their surprise, not a baseball bat, but a three foot long sword with a bronze sheen, shimmering whenever the light hit it. she skillfully dodged the monster's attacks, and with all her might, she swung the sword at its neck.

the monster let out a final roar, before it exploded into golden dust, clinging to the prefect's uniform. the two could hear her muttering something in that same language they heard her speaking a while ago, before shrinking the sword back into the earring, clipping it back on her ears.

she scanned the area one more time and let out a silent sigh, she began her walk back to ramshackle. ace and deuce decided to run back before she realised they saw all that. sure, they have several... thousand questions, but it would be for another day. right now, they decided to keep it a secret, until the prefect told them herself.

god, what have they gotten themselves into?

the long awaited lore!! my brain hurt for waking up so early to finish this one lmao, so it's a bit rushed at the end oof

taglist🏷️ @azulashengrottospiano @aqua-beam @identity-theft-101 @siren-serenity @dove-da-birb @cookiesandbiscuits @minimallyminnie @ceruleancattail @axvwriter @moonlit-midnight @krenenbaker @twistwonderlanddevotee @bun-lapin @savanaclaw1996 @mermaidfanficlibrary @xen-blank @loser-jpg @taruruchi @cave-of-jade @cheezy-moon @thehollowwriter

reblogs are very appreciated!!

[falkarph]

ASSASSIN'S CREED: MIRAGE PROMPTS

rp starters from ubisoft's assassin's creed: mirage. some may be edited. possible spoilers ahead!

❛ ugh, how the stench of pride seeps from your pores … ❜ ❛ you need something stolen? then i am your man. ❜ ❛ i’ve had a clever thought. if your mind is absent of one, you should perhaps follow mine. ❜ ❛ do you have any idea what they will do to me? ❜ ❛ anyone can wield a sword. but how will you use it? ❜ ❛ true learning requires action and stillness in equal parts. you have made the action. now seek the stillness. ❜ ❛ we are messengers of justice and not the final judges. ❜ ❛ you killed them… ❜ ❛ anyone who works from the shadows does so only because they must. ❜ ❛ we have a similar spirit, you know? ❜ ❛ i am grateful to you for leading the way before me. ❜ ❛ i cannot imagine you being afraid. ❜ ❛ to have courage means to act in the midst of great fear. ❜ ❛ i am not worthy of your prayers. ❜ ❛ you even leave like they do. ❜ ❛ few things are more dangerous than the wounded pride of a powerful man. ❜ ❛ poetry is like music to my ears. especially when i am the subject. ❜ ❛ i know such pain. and i am sorry for yours. ❜ ❛ turn your hate inward. it is your own wickedness that brought you here. ❜ ❛ how am i to guide you if you will not speak openly? ❜ ❛ i … i have struggled with nightmares. ❜ ❛ we are only as weak as we allow ourselves to be. ❜ ❛ ohhh secret stuff, what are you doing this time? stabbing? stealing? stabbing and then stealing? ❜ ❛ what was it like, the first time you took a life? ❜ ❛ if we do not quell the storm within us while awake, it will haunt us in our sleep. ❜ ❛ i‘m grateful for our bond. you are a true friend. ❜ ❛ i know it in my ripe old bones, he wants me to die of starvation. or worse, go out of business! ❜ ❛ how shameful it is that knowledge always ends up in the wrong hands. ❜ ❛ i will walk behind you, every single step, to remind you not to forget who you are. ❜ ❛ how did you find this place? you should not be here. ❜ ❛ unlike you, i keep the past in the past. ❜ ❛ i am your past. tell me … will you leave me there? in the dark corners of your memory? ❜ ❛ words are weapons enough for me. ❜ ❛ my only fear is that we become like them. ❜ ❛ sometimes it is best to leave the thorn in, lest you bleed dry. ❜ ❛ no matter what others say, you only have yourself. ❜ ❛ family? the word has no meaning. ❜ ❛ does where you stand not awaken fond memories? ❜ ❛ rumors of my villainy were greatly exaggerated. ❜ ❛ do not overthink it. you simply need to have faith. ❜ ❛ how can you hunt when you are hounded? ❜ ❛ i wait for no man. ❜ ❛ should we not seek to know our enemies better, to better defeat them? ❜ ❛ come, i rarely bite and i never leave a mark. ❜ ❛ i work in the dark to serve the light. ❜ ❛ i have heard many men say that. ❜ ❛ yours is the tongue that will not still itself, even when i beg for silence. ❜ ❛ how can i leave you to wolves such as these? ❜ ❛ my face is quite forgettable, unlike yours. ❜ ❛ my father once said, to know the measure of a man ask those who work beneath him. ❜ ❛ you spy on me now? ❜ ❛ you know where to find me when your "duty" is done. ❜ ❛ each trail of blood leads back to you. ❜ ❛ will you not stop until all of us are dead? ❜ ❛ that is forbidden ground. there is nothing there for you. ❜ ❛ you let me struggle alone! ❜ ❛ follow this path and i will kill you myself. ❜ ❛ where you go, there i will go. where you rest, there i will rest. i will walk behind you every step of the way. ❜ ❛ i will make every last one of them pay. ❜ ❛ you do not have to look to the past to know who you are. who you can be. ❜ ❛ i know you now. i see you for what you are. ❜

[willtheweaver]

Story garden tag

Thanks for the tag @agirlandherquill @thatuselesshuman this looks like a fun one

Rules: Use the given starting sentences for each paragraph, start to construct a story, then share it and add your own starters, and keep the story going!

The starting sentences are in bold

Endings are inevitable, but what about beginnings? When does one story conclude, and another starts? Why am I asking you this? I honestly don’t know. Maybe it is because these may be my last moments alive, and I am afraid of what comes next. Read this account carefully, and set it into your heart so that you will never forget.

The burn of the fire could never compare to the bite of the cold that has sunk its teeth into unwilling flesh and refused to let go. I know it sounds overly dramatic, but have you ever been in a situation where you question everything you held dear? When all reason abandons you, your sanity slowly seeps out of every pore, and you feel like you are losing your humanity?

Trouble sought them out through the storms, through nightmares-there was no escape, not even now. The naive, the dreamer, the one who fears no god and laughs at the face of death. They are just asking for karma to destroy everything they hold dear. Had I known what lay insides that cursed sea, I would have stayed in that tavern and swore to never sail again.

Why do the dead never seem to stay dead? What drives them to keep haunting those they knew in life? Is it the guilt of those they haunt? Or does sheer will and malice drive them to follow and pursue people until they can no longer take it? I’ve carried many ghosts around me over the years. Some continually keep me company, others have faded away, or have made peace with me. Yet there was one I never expected to see again: you.

If you could leave me again, would you? I know this is a sensitive subject. I do not blame you for being mad at me (but did you really have to put your sword between my ribs?) When I found out that I was going to spend half a year on a tiny ship with you, I expected the worst. Yet we stayed away and never spoke to each other for the first month. Yet I could see the daggers in your eyes. In your head, you weighed all my sins. So it came as a complete surprise when you first spoke to me.

Tagging @mk-writes-stuff @somethingclevermahogony @poethill @kaylinalexanderbooks @jay-avian

@the-ellia-west @illarian-rambling @ahordeofwasps @winterandwords @theink-stainedfolk

@phoenixradiant @the-golden-comet and open tag

Your tags are:

I didn’t think I could ever be forgiven.

Looking back, would you have jumped ship when things first began going wrong?

There are some things that should have remained buried.