#c: edrick

[domericstone]

who: @steelandfrost what: in the dark of night domeric returns to the dreadfort to gather important things and his mother. when: before domeric goes to the vale

In the heart of the Dreadfort, Domeric's solar was a haunting contradiction. Despite its name, the room was a dark, foreboding space. High, arched windows obscured by heavy crimson and black draperies, and the air carries a faint scent of aged wood and iron. A massive fireplace dominates one wall, its hearth cold and empty, surrounded by relics of House Bolton’s grim history. The shadow of the now former Master of Coin for the King of North danced across the walls.

At the center, a large mahogany table is strewn with maps and parchments, a hub of strategy and control. Some of the scrolls haphazardly thrown into a bag. Even as the light struggled to penetrate the pervasive gloom, the feeling of urgency. A man of calm, on edge and caught off guard by the door opening.

He turned and faced his brother. Edrick Bolton. Of his brothers he'd been Domeric's favorite over the years. The only one Domeric trusted enough with the secrets of his trade. But not enough with his greatest secret. His greatest secret spreading across the North like wildfire.

"What are you doing?" He asked with a calmness, skilled at hiding the true feelings underneath it all. Would this be the day brothers would raise their swords? Would they dance about the solar until the crescendo of steel piercing flesh? Domeric left the north a Bolton and would flee a Stone. A bastard.

"You shouldn't be here."

[nasirofmanderlys]

who: @steelandfrost context: i dont fuck with you by big sean

nasir manderly stepped onto the cold, wind-swept grounds of winterfell, the chill biting through his cloak as his boots sank slightly into the snow. the north had a way of making even the most hardened men pause, as if its vastness demanded respect. yet nasir was not here to admire the landscape; he was here to face edrick bolton. he had heard of edrick's opposition to the changes he had been pushing for in the north—an opposition that ran deep and stubborn as the roots of the weirwoods themselves.

nasir, ever the pragmatist, preferred to avoid unnecessary confrontations, but there were times when one had no choice but to speak, even with men like edrick.

the halls of winterfell seemed to swallow sound as nasir made his way through them, the stone walls thick with centuries of history. he could feel the weight of those who had come before him pressing down, their presence still palpable, even if just in memory. it was in these moments that he felt the full depth of the divide between himself and the northern lords—men like edrick bolton, who clung to the old ways with the fervor of a man holding onto the last thread of something dear.

"lord bolton," nasir began, his voice cutting through the quiet like a blade through thick cloth. there was no greeting, no niceties—just the directness that came from being a man of action. the memories of the recent great northern war came to mind, in which a certain bolton bastard fanned the flames of the border disputes between the manderlys and the boltons to the point where it ended in bloodshed and carnage. he simply stared at the man, as if to tell him he had not forgotten. he paused for a moment, the firelight flickering across his face, casting shadows on his sharp features.

"but i’m not here to argue about the past. i’m here because you and i both know the north cannot remain as it is. not forever." he leaned forward, his voice low but insistent. "i don’t expect you to agree with me. i don’t expect you to like it. but the north—your north—is being left behind. i’ve seen it. we have seen it. the rest of the realm is moving forward, and if the north wants to stand with them, we cannot afford to be stuck in the same old ways."

[wintervsuns]

♞

brandon let out a slow breath through his nose, jaw clenched tight as he listened to edrick. there was a sharpness in the bolton’s words, that cutting edge that always came with his kind—like every sentence was meant to dig in, to wound, or at least leave a mark. brandon didn’t flinch, but there was a heaviness in his chest, the weight of old grudges and older truths, or perhaps simply because he felt as though the other wished him to be a puppet and dance on a string.

the karstarks had already lost too much, had been served with disadvantage both personally and politically; he was too prideful of a northman to be edrick's example story.

“southern politics,” brandon repeated flatly, his northern drawl thick. “ye say it like it’s some curse we been shackled with, but i’m askin’—what the fuck do ye actually mean by it? the gold an' ships ships from cross the narrow sea? the trade routes that’ve made ‘em richer while we’re still out here counting barrels o’ grain before the first frost? aye, they’ve lined their pockets. grown soft, maybe. but coin’s coin. what’s wrong with wanting a slice o’ that, so long as our folk don’t starve for it?” he scoffed now, his hands on his rough beard. "yer own bastard brother few years back used just that to establish what you've got now - where the fuck were you, aye?"

he shifted in his seat, the old wood creaking under him as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “i know what yer hintin’ at. don’t go paintin’ me as some fool who can’t see it. i know the games they play. i just ain’t sure yer plan’s any better.” brandon’s grey eyes narrowed on edrick, hard and sharp. “you talk about standin’ firm, about holdin’ the old ways like they’re some sacred thing. aye, i get it. the north’s different. harsher. we look after our own. but there’s a difference between holdin’ fast and diggin’ yer heels in till the ground swallows ye whole.” the karstark was every inch the abrasion of a northern lord, his tone and his body language straight despite he fact he remained sat over his ale.

he let out a rough sigh, scratching his beard. “and don’t think i forgot who i’m talkin’ to. a bolton. house flayed man. you speak of loyalty to the north, but the likes o’ you’ve been carvin’ it up long before the southerners ever set their sights this far north. trust’s a hard thing to give a bolton. reckon you know that - go on and on about being kings of the dread. the north'll give its bones to the wolves of da north, happily. to the likes of you?”

brandon’s voice dropped, heavier now. “and aye, jin renshu murdered me wife. he should hang for it, these tradeslot need remember they ain't northern. but that don’t mean i’m gonna run into yer arms just ‘cause we share a bit o’ outrage. i pick my battles, bolton, and i sure as shit pick my allies. i ain’t blind to the cracks in this kingdom, but i’ll be damned if i stand with a man whose house is known for breaking oaths, skinning folk alive and being conned by some slimy bastard of the vale.” no doubt his temper had boiled. "yer all talk and chat bolton. make the stand yer be begging me to do yourself man, and then maybe men'll think yer worth even looking at, let alone following."

edrick listened as brandon’s words echoed in the hall, the tension between them thick like the northern winter air. he could sense the stubbornness in the karstark, a reflection of his own hard edge. but there was something in brandon's eyes that gave edrick pause. it wasn’t just a refusal to join his cause—it was a refusal to take a stand, and that, edrick believed , was the root of the matter.

he straightened in his chair, his pale eyes narrowing slightly, not with malice, but with the calculating sharpness that defined his every move. the firelight danced across his face as he spoke, his tone quiet but direct.

"aye, karstark, i know well what you say about rebuilding," edrick began, his voice low, purposeful. "but you stand between two worlds—one foot still tethered to the old gods and the other wavering, not daring to make a choice. you think the north can stand between them, but there is no middle ground left. either we keep our old ways, or we lose them."

he leaned forward, his gaze unwavering. "unity in the north doesn’t come from bending to southern politics, but it doesn't come from standing in the middle either. the king’s ear may not be yours, but you’ve earned his respect. it makes you someone whose voice carries weight. it’s time you put that weight on the scales of what’s right for the north.”

he shifted, his movements deliberate, slow, and purposeful. "you speak of graves, and i’ve seen them too. seen what happens when you ignore the signs, when you let the wolves grow fat on the bones of the north." he looked at brandon, his voice turning harder. "but mark my words, karstark—there will be no rebuilding without first standing firm. the old ways are what have kept us alive. and the longer you stand by the fire of compromise, the quicker you'll watch it burn down to ash."

edrick paused, allowing his words to settle, the flickering firelight highlighting the steely edge of his resolve. “you want to rebuild the north, yes? but how do you rebuild something that is already on the verge of crumbling under its own indecision? tell me this, karstark—where do you stand, in truth? you need not speak it aloud for the entire room to hear, but you cannot tell me you do not hold your own doubts on these changes?"

[idkyetxoxo]

Cregan Stark - Honour Bound

Summary - Cregan's unwavering honour is tested when he discovers a dark truth about his friend and his wife. As hidden feelings surface and a violent confrontation looms, Cregan must navigate the treacherous waters of loyalty, justice, and love.

Pairing - Cregan Stark x reader

Warnings - Violence (domestic)

Word count - 2325

Masterlist for Cregan • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.

Cregan Stark was a man of ironclad honour, the kind whose word bound him as surely as the old gods bound the North to their land. He held to his oaths with unflinching resolve, guided by the deep-seated duty to protect his people and treat them fairly. 

In Winterfell, Cregan Stark's justice was as firm as the ancient walls that towered around him.

But even a man of his strength couldn't save everyone. No, not everyone.

He stood in the shadows, his gaze steady as I approached, my arm looped loosely through my husband's, as though I were a prize on display rather than a cherished partner. 

And he watched me with a quiet intensity that, perhaps, only I noticed. 

There was a sombre distance in his eyes, the kind that no one else would question, but beneath it, I sensed something that Cregan himself might deny even to the gods.

My husband, Edrick Glover, had known Cregan for years; they'd fought together, feasted together, and shared more tales than I could count. 

And yet, today, there was a chill in Cregan's stare as it settled on Edrick—a chill that seemed to seep past the polished armour they both wore and into something older, something unspoken.

"My lord," I murmured, forcing a smile to stretch across my lips despite the dull, aching reminders that clung to me like shadows beneath my skin.

I had seen Cregan's eyes on me before, had felt the weight of them. 

And I had felt, in rare moments, his restraint, his silent refusal to betray what he felt. He was bound to honor, to his friendship with Edrick, to the iron code of the North that demanded respect for a friend's wife.

Beside me, Edrick nodded, flashing Cregan a smug smile. "Cregan."

"Edrick," Cregan replied evenly, his deep voice measured but distant. His gaze lingered on my neck for a beat too long, catching sight of the bruises hidden there, their edges barely masked by my collar.

I straightened, clearing my throat, and forced another small smile. The ache flared at the movement, but I held my posture, hoping Cregan wouldn't notice. 

Yet he did, and I saw it in the way his jaw clenched, a flicker of dread darkening his eyes directed not just at Edrick, but at himself, as if he cursed his own helplessness, his own restraint.

The bruises marked me as clearly as any banner, blossoming over my skin like wildflowers in spring. 

They said what I could not—what I dared not—and for the briefest of moments, I thought I saw a spark of something in Cregan's expression, something close to fury.

A storm churned within him. It grated against his own sense of honour, his unbreakable belief that a man should protect his own, cherish them, not harm them. 

How could any man, especially one who claimed to hold honour so dear, lift a hand against his own wife? How could anyone violate that bond?

To Cregan Stark, it made no sense. It went against the very marrow of who he was. 

Yet all he could do was stand there, his honour binding him as tightly as any chain, as I drifted past him, his presence a silent promise that, somehow, one day, the North would make this right.

─── ✦��♡⋅✦ ───

The feast carried on well into the night, its raucous sounds fading as Cregan slipped away from the hall, his steps echoing down the cold stone corridors of Winterfell. 

The night was thick with silence, broken only by the faint murmur of distant laughter and the crackle of torches lining the walls.

As he made his way toward his chambers, a sound caught his ear—muffled, desperate, cutting through the quiet like a blade. He paused, heart suddenly pounding, and listened. 

There it was again—a strangled cry, followed by a dull thud. It was coming from one of the side rooms down the hall.

Without hesitation, he strode toward it, instincts prickling with a sense of wrongness. 

He pressed his hand to the heavy oak door, listening. Another cry—a woman's voice, choked and pleading. He needed no further confirmation. 

With a shove, Cregan pushed the door open, and the scene within unfurled before him in a twisted tableau.

I was crumpled on the floor, hands raised defensively as Edrick towered over me, his face contorted with fury, his hand drawn back to strike again. 

I was weeping, my body curling in on itself, bruises blooming across my skin like cruel blossoms. 

Cregan's mind flashed back to the bruises he had glimpsed earlier, the shadows that lingered on my skin, hints of violence kept hidden. Fury surged in him, white-hot and unforgiving.

Seeing me now, cowering beneath the man Cregan had once called a friend, filled him with a rage that was almost blinding.

The fire in him finally leapt to life. Here was no justice. Here was no honour. 

"What are you doing?" Cregan's voice was low and steely, a barely restrained growl that sliced through the air.

Edrick's head snapped up, and for a moment, there was a flicker of surprise before it hardened into defiance.

"Cregan, leave," he said coldly, his eyes dark and unyielding. "This is between us. It's none of your concern."

Cregan stepped forward, his imposing frame casting a long shadow across the floor. 

His heart twisted with an ache he couldn't afford to acknowledge—an ache born of all the moments he'd looked at me across crowded halls and found himself captivated, admiring, wishing for a closeness he could never allow. 

But all of it, his restraint, his honour, lay in shreds as he looked at me now.

"No," he said, his voice unshakable. "Tell me, Edrick, why you're beating your wife so mercilessly." 

His eyes burned, his hand inching toward the hilt of his sword, the old code of Northern honour urging him forward, daring him to intervene.

Edrick sneered, shrugging as if the answer was both obvious and justified. 

"Fine," he spat. "If you must know, my dear wife here," he gestured roughly toward me, "has been unfaithful. Playing the whore, thinking I wouldn't notice. I have every right."

My voice broke in, trembling, each word weighted with fear and desperation. 

"I swear it, my lord," I gasped, looking up at Cregan, my eyes wide and pleading. "I was not unfaithful. Lord Umber only brought me a drink—that is all. I swear it on the gods."

"Liar!" Edrick bellowed, his face twisting with rage as he raised his hand again. 

His palm met my cheek with a sickening crack, my body recoiling from the blow as fresh tears spilt down my cheeks.

The sound snapped something in Cregan. 

In a single, fluid motion, he crossed the room, his hand closing around Edrick's wrist in an iron grip, stopping the next strike before it could land. His eyes locked onto Edrick's with a chilling intensity, a fury simmering beneath his calm facade.

"Enough," Cregan growled, his voice like thunder rumbling in the depths of winter. His grip tightened, the warning clear. 

"If you think yourself a man, prove it—by protecting your wife, not brutalizing her. Accusations mean nothing without proof, and even then, this... this is not justice. Not in the North."

Edrick yanked his hand free, stumbling back, his face red with anger and embarrassment. 

For a moment, he looked as though he might strike at Cregan instead, but he hesitated, the simmering hatred in his eyes meeting the unyielding resolve in Cregan's.

Cregan could feel his heart pounding, anger simmering alongside the ache he felt for me, his restraint hanging by a thread.

It was all he could do not to draw his blade and demand satisfaction for each bruise, each tear he had seen over the past months.

"Think on your actions," Cregan continued, his voice barely above a whisper but laced with steel. "And remember—honour binds us all. I will not let your shameful behaviour poison this household."

My breath came in broken sobs, but as Cregan turned to me, his gaze softened, his fury tempered by a quiet resolve. 

"Are you badly hurt?" he asked, his voice as gentle as it had been fierce a moment before.

I nodded, unable to speak, and he offered me his hand, a silent promise that this was not the end—that, somehow, he would make sure justice was done.

Edrick's face twisted into a sneer and he gripped my arm as he yanked me toward him, his fingers digging into my skin with bruising force. 

"You think you can just leave me?" he spat, his voice seething with venom. "Where would you go? No man would want a spoiled woman like you. You're mine, understand? 

He shook me, each shake driving home the poison in his words as if the idea of my freedom were nothing but a laughable delusion.

Before I could even cry out, there was a sharp sound—the unmistakable scrape of steel sliding from its scabbard. The metallic whisper cut through the tension in the room, freezing Edrick in place.

Cregan stepped forward, his sword glinting in the dim torchlight, his face a mask of quiet, deadly rage. His eyes locked onto Edrick, fury simmering beneath the calm of his expression—a fury that was no longer restrained by the bonds of friendship, or even by honour.

"I will give her a place," Cregan said, his voice calm and deadly. "Once I've fought you and served her justice, I will take her as my wife. You'll never harm her again."

My head turned to him, eyes wide, the disbelief and confusion in me flickering with a faint, trembling hope. 

Cregan's words were no longer simply the declaration of a protector—they were a vow. It was the answer to the silent promise he'd held in his heart for far too long. 

He would not stand aside this time; he would be the shield I had needed for so long.

Edrick's sneer only deepened, a humourless laugh escaping his lips as he glanced between Cregan and me. "No... you wouldn't dare," he hissed. "Kill a friend? Break our bond?"

"I would," Cregan replied, his gaze unflinching. "I would if it meant sparing her from you."

A low growl rose from Edrick, and in a heartbeat, he released me, shoving me roughly aside as he drew his own blade, his expression darkening. 

"Fine, then," he spat, stepping forward, his stance hard and ready. "If you think yourself so righteous, come and prove it."

I stumbled backwards, my hands pressed to my mouth as I watched, my breath hitching as the two men—one my tormentor, the other my salvation—faced each other across the room, the tension crackling like a storm waiting to break.

Cregan circled Edrick with lethal precision, his movements measured, his every step a silent promise. 

"You've shamed yourself, Edrick," he said coldly. "Shamed the honour you once held. And you would continue this cruelty if I did nothing. Not tonight."

His gaze flicked to me, just for a heartbeat, a look that spoke of the love he could now no longer deny.

With a roar, Edrick lunged, his blade slicing through the air. Cregan blocked the blow with swift ease, his own sword flashing as he countered, forcing Edrick back. 

Steel clashed against steel, the sound harsh and reverberating in the small room as they fought, each strike harder than the last. 

Edrick's face contorted with anger, but Cregan's expression remained steady, the righteous fury that fueled him giving his blows deadly weight.

"You dare lecture me?" Edrick growled, swinging wildly, his movements becoming frantic as he fought to overpower Cregan. But Cregan deflected his strikes, each movement controlled, his purpose unyielding.

"This isn't about honour anymore," Cregan replied, parrying another blow. "It's about justice."

At that, he surged forward, pressing Edrick back, his strikes unrelenting. Edrick stumbled, and for a brief, desperate moment, his eyes flashed with fear. But he wouldn't surrender. 

With a snarl, he lunged once more, his blade coming dangerously close to Cregan's side.

Cregan sidestepped, his movements swift and smooth, and with a powerful swing, he struck. His blade found its mark, cutting through Edrick's defenses, slicing through his armour with chilling finality. 

Edrick gasped, his eyes wide, his sword slipping from his grasp as he staggered back, clutching at his side, blood staining his fingers.

He fell to his knees, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his face pale with the shock of betrayal, of his own demise. 

He looked up at Cregan, his eyes filled with disbelief. "You... you'd kill... a friend?"

Cregan's gaze was cold, steady, as he looked down at Edrick with unflinching resolve. "No," he replied softly, his voice like ice. "I killed a man who betrayed his honour."

Edrick's eyes fluttered closed, his strength fading, and he slumped to the ground, his final breath slipping from his lips like a whisper lost to the night.

In the silence that followed, Cregan turned, his gaze softening as it fell on me, I stood trembling, my hand pressed to my mouth, eyes wide with both relief and sorrow. 

Slowly, he approached me, the anger in him dissolving as he sheathed his sword, his hand reaching out gently. For the first time, I saw in his eyes the depth of his love, a love that had been bound by duty but now set free by justice.

"You're safe now," he murmured, his voice soft, filled with a quiet assurance.

Word would spread of what had happened, whispers echoing through Winterfell's halls, judgment whispered behind doors. 

But Cregan knew this would be his burden alone; he had chosen to bear it, for me and for the justice that would haunt him.

Tears filled my eyes as I looked up at him, my heart heavy with both sorrow and gratitude. 

I took his hand, my fingers slipping into his as if they had always belonged there, and in that touch, I knew he was more than my protector—he was my future.

That night, Winterfell was silent, save for the sound of one man's blood seeping into the cold stone floor. 

The North had seen its justice done.

A/n - National domestic violence hotline (CALL: 1-800-799-SAFE (7233), CHAT: www.thehotline.org/, TEXT: "START" to 88788) 💜

Cregan tag list - @veesuguru

[thewarishxre]

╳┊ @lxkisragnarok​​

          Un cambio, una perdida, una tradición, una victoria, una derrota, un suceso puede cambiar la vida de una persona en un abrir y cerrar de ojos. Desde toda su vida había odiado a una persona desde el instante que llegó. Jamás olvidaría el día que el esclavo sajón había llegado a la aldea y en poco tiempo había terminado por ser adoptado por uno de los Jarls. Edrick trató de mostrarse agradecido por salvar a Freydis pero conforme crecía su ira hacía él era más grande. En un principio fueron celos creyendo que le había quitado a una amiga, pero posteriormente sus sentimientos evolucionaron y la furia quedó siempre presente cuando no fue correspondido y en cambio aquel chico sajón si. Sin embargo, el destino tenía otros planes y a pesar de que de joven había pedido la mano de Freydis nunca obtuvo una respuesta de su padre cuando toda la aldea se incendio volvió a encontrarla y agradeció que abriera los ojos a la verdadera persona que era. Sin embargo, conforme pasaban los años notaba que su esposa siempre tenía un respeto por él y eso le enfurecía, cada oportunidad que ocurría luchaba por defender su vida... Hasta que creyeron que había muerto. 

          La muerte de Caleb fue el gran enfoque que necesitaron para juntar a todos los vikingos que pudieron, Jarls de varios lados acudieron a su llamado para un plan. Tomando cada reino y el último finalmente había caído. Y ni siquiera el mata daneses había logrado detenerlo y ahora tenía a este como su esclavo, que hiciera lo que deseará, como siempre debió de suceder y que su esposa se lo entregará a él mostró sin duda un mayor valor. 

          Llevaban unos días que había ocurrido el intercambio y tenía a su nuevo esclavo, sin embargo, que Freydis ni siquiera le preguntará una sola vez por él o si quiera hubiera ido a verlo si logró inclusive hasta él extrañarlo porque parecía que lo evitaba a toda costa aunque él no le importaba, por él mejor porque vaya que había hecho la vida de Caleb un infierno y apenas comenzaba. El primer día lo tuvo amarrado afuera del palacio afuera en el solo sin dejar sentarse y cada danés podría ir hacer lo que deseará. Recibió gritos, insultos, le aventaban comida, escupían o inclusive varios hasta lo golpeaban. Muchos habían perdido familia a mano suya o a la de los sajones y lo culpaban por ello. Otros días solo le sirvió a Edrick para humillarlo, en cada manera posible y ni siquiera había llegado a mencionar la parte de su hija, quería enfurecerlo para tener una mínima escusa para golpearlo más y enseñarle quien mandaba. Lanzó una cubeta de agua a Caleb que se encontraba dormido en su celda. ❝——Levántate❞ gritó este para que saliera tirando de la cadena, como un vil perro que lo sacaba a pasear. 

[unravellingsilencehq]

“Oh, Merlin, tell me, does THE ENCHANTRESS get what she deserves?” She is in THE DEATH EATERS & OPEN to finding out. 

— she walks through the world as ;

name → evangeline selwyn pronouns → she/her identification → cis female year of birth → september 1954 - september 1955 face claim → kiki layne blood status → pure-blood sexual orientation → homosexual occupation → unspeakable in the hall of prophecy at the ministry of magic future information → married to lachesis malfoy

— she is best described as ;

Dreams STOLEN by stars, she the COLD uncertainty of a tide highlighted by crystal visions yet the ALOOF fragments of a TURBULENT SOUL captive in ice waters . A LUNAR ECLIPSE, MYTHICAL in its undiscovered eternity, she is the INTRICACY of an optical illusion with two undisclosed sides masking her true image from a keen observer. As UNDECIDED as a FLIPPING COIN, she is the  grey hue of MELANCHOLY living in shadows of jade euphoria.

— her story starts with ;

tw: abuse

Born to callous people, the Selwyn’s cared more for the legacy they were leaving than the children they spawned. Notorious for being volatile, it was only to be expected for a family rumored to hold the heirloom of none other than Salazar Slytherin. Each as manipulative and deadly as the next; the family were known for holding power in the ministry and using it to their advantage. Harrelson worked in the International Confederation of Wizards while Saffron acted as a crowning gem on his arm. Possessing bitter distaste for anyone challenging traditionalist views, the couple forced sorcerers to bend under their whim; disposing discreetly of anyone who dared not comply. One of the most powerful and noteworthy families in the country, the lineage was filled with atrocities better left as rumors uttered by skeletons at the backs of locked closets. Eva turned a blind eye knowing it was better to be withdrawn than to partake in the nightmares her parents conjured. Not seeing the world as strictly black and white, she saw the souls behind their father’s disgust. Creeping at midnight to heal wounds inflicted by her parents on elves and EDRICK SELWYN [brother] who was a frequent victim.

Compared to her brother who grew to mimic their father’s behaviors, Eva grew inwardly. Typically a loner, she developed a distaste for people among the Twenty-Eight who cared more for appearances than self discipline. With crystals and astronomy maps for company, the witch grew obstinate. Worn to a cold exterior from years of forceful opinions, Eva grew more concerned with safeguarding her own heart than how her blunt comments could leave others with bruises. Renowned around Hogwarts halls for predicting disasters, many saw her as a bad omen. While her professor expressed their admiration in divination and suspicion she could be gifted with the inner eye, she rejected it. Harbored with dread, for if true her talents could lead to peril should her father become aware. Though solitude fated for her. Perched alone by the black lake, when she heard the voices of sisters SAGE BOSWELL [close friend] and ROWAN BOSWELL [close friend] who sang into the night like sirens luring their prey. Accompanied by OPAL GREY [friend] and RIVER NORWOOD [friend], they were equally as strange and unlike the Slytherin’s she was used to associating with. The group began to feel like home. Marveling at hidden objects and sharing tales with tower ghosts all with her family unaware of who she was associating herself with.

While playing the idealistic product of a Twenty-Eight, she craved a moment of sanctum away from the snobbery. Escaping London, what had meant to be a two week holiday turned into a summer romance and the best four years of her life. Brought to Paris following Boswell's band, Eva longed to find peace for her troubled soul; never did she imagine she’d find love instead. CLAUDETTE DELACOUR [former partner/potential love interest] felt like coming up for air. A complex woman, Evangeline found herself quickly captivated by her. Exchanged glances turned to drinking with the night ending wrapped under sheets in each other’s arms. Encapsulated with one another, from that night they never spent a day apart. They cherished one another and it wasn’t long before Eva had moved in with Claude and her best friend JACQUELINE LEJEUNE [former friend]. Claude’s social circle became hers, with GABRIEL DUMONT [former friend] and RAPHAEL FRANCOIS [former friend] the five became extremely close. With her friends visiting from England when they could, Paris was idealist and offered a life Eva had only ever dreamed of.

Letters and howlers from home were burned on arrival in an attempt to distance herself from the Selwyn’s by any means necessary. The exceptions were rare letters from Erik who consistently pleaded with her to see reason and return. Not heeding his warning, Eva was prepared to disown her family while Claudette held reservations to sacrifice the same. Left exasperated and hurt at being kept a secret from people that meant so much to the French woman, the topic was a continuous sour point. With the desire to love openly and freely, they’d planned to flee Paris once Claude had visited home to leave a mere note for her parents before reuniting so they could disappear into the night. Never did Eva consider their simple goodbye would be their last farewell. Hours and days passed with no word, leading her to assume Claude had gotten cold feet and chosen her family rather than facing her again. Abandoned and left by the one person she’d truly loved, her heart ached with betrayal and broken promises. The rejection forged walls back around her heart, plans to stay in Paris were quickly torn and with owls from Opal and Sage informing her that Rowan had passed suddenly and under suspicious circumstances Eva flead back to the past and the rainy streets of london. 

Influenced back into the grasp of their father, his fury upon her return could have burned the manor to the ground. Adamant she brought shame onto the family name, his ‘teachings’ had been ill in comparison to the torment she faced upon return. Long sleeves hiding scars from cursed quills, Eva fell back in line. Distancing herself from her friends to prove loyalty to her family, she took a job within the Ministry under her father’s guidance that having sorcerers hold Ministry positions would come in use. While skeptical about the world her family envisioned with THE DARK LORD [leader], she knew her alliance to them would mean safety. Immersing herself amongst the wizarding aristocracy again was no small feat. The people she grew up despising for their flippant nature were the few she found herself reluctantly making small talk with in order to appease. Though one that captured her unexpectedly was LACHESIS MALFOY [fiancé]. Articulate with a mind as sharp as a crafted blade; they were as captivating as a lit flame. Finding herself unarmed by their intellect and unwavering gaze at her callous words, Lachesis deemed her cold nature like devotion; with Eva baring her soul only for a selective handful. If Eva was the dark side of a moon filled with mysticism, they were the sun burning a heart she’d long forgotten she’d had. 

Devoting two years to one another, their engagement was celebrated amongst the elite for the uniting of two noble houses. Influenced by Lachesis and Edrik to hold a stronger hand in the movements of The Death Eaters; she finds herself in the exact position she’d always feared. Proving her worth by decoding a prophecy stolen during the Solstice of 1983, Eva has confirmed its meaning to be about CAIUS BURKE [acquaintance] and KERVENS BORGIN’s [friend] mission to gather objects for the Dark Lord’s quest for horcruxes and their prophesied success. Gaining trust amongst The Death Eaters, she has it on good word that MASON TREMBLAY [acquaintance] while trapped in Azkaban is gathering followers from the inside. While Evangline believes The Dark Lord means safety, she can’t help the paranoia still when it comes to a particular french woman. Cursed into silence to not betray her loyalties, instead of worrying for Claude she is focusing on rebuilding the bonds of her old friendships. Creature recruitment heavily on the mind of The Dark Lord, Evangline is seeking out River, Sage and Opal in hopes of entrusting them; promising a world where creatures didn’t live in fear or discrimination. However with Sage’s cold shoulder and River’s reclusive behavior; Evangeline can’t help but feel there is more to the death of Rowan than she was once privy to. 

— she is a LEVEL 6 WITCH & a undiscovered LEVEL 3 SEER & readied for war ;

[edrickdragonkin]

Hello my friends!

You can me Edrick but I'll also respond to anything.

I use xe/xem pronouns, I'm transmasc and canelian (non-ex nblnb nblm).

I've known I was otherkin since 2014 and known specifically that I'm dragonkin since August 2021.

For those of you who know it my Dragon Code is DC3.D Gn L Phevwllt Ss&f,wf&l Cwh\gy,civ,viv,ibl++ Bco/st# A- Nt M H Ff/c S-

For those who don't, I'm a nonbinary dragonkin who has a head, external ears, horns, wings, 4 legs and a tail. I'm scaly and feathery but my wings are feathery and leathery. I'm white and grey iridescent, my claws and horns are ivory and I have pale blue eyes. I breathe cold and steam in a cloud. I'm a young adult. My natural habitat is the tundra. I'm single and looking to mingle. My hoard is average sized. I eat fish and other meats. I'm open about being dragonkin online but not offline.

DNI if truscum/transmed, TERF, SWERF, anti neopronouns, transphobic, homophobic, binarist (think nonbinary people don't exist or are "confused"), racist, anti blm, pro cop, trump supporter, maga, ableist, anti kin, MAP, anti pagan, anti Wiccan, integration only for involuntary systems or actively support anyone who is.

[penny4pixelz]

Cedrick..?

[sofrpc]

⌖*ﾟ— 550+ UNIQUE AND UNDERUSED MALE NAMES

as requested, i have created a masterlist of 550+ unique and underused male names ! these are all listed in alphabetical order, and although i dont claim any of these as my own, please don’t copy and paste straight into another masterlist. feel free to use the names in any way you like, i hope this gives you muse for your characters (my faves are bolded) — also smash that like or reblog if you found this useful, thank you !

A

abel, acacius, ace, achilles, adagio, adaiah, adalius, adley, adelio, adonis, adrian, adriel, aiden, akello, alain, alarik, alastair, alek, alfred, alfonzo, ali, alisio, alonzo, amari, amedeus, amias, amos, anakin, andre, ansel, anton, anwar, apollo, aragon, aramis, archer, aries, arlo, arrius, artemis, asher, ashton, asriel, atlas, atlantis, atticus, auden, august, auri, austin, avery, axel, aziel

B

bacchus, baden, bailey, baldwin, balin, balton, bandit, banks, barley, baxley, baxter, baze, bear, beau, beck, benson, bentley, berlin, bianco, bishop, blade, blaine, blaze, bode, bodhie, booker, bosley, boston, brandon, brantley, brayden, braxton, brecken, brennon, brett, briley, brinley, brock, bruno, bronx, brooks, bryce, bryson

C

caelan, caesar, cade, cador, cage, cain, caleb, callaway, callen, callister, callum, calvin, camden, campbell, carlisle, carlo, carrick, carter, casey, casper, castiel, cedric, cesar, channing, charles, chase, chuck, clifton, clinton, cleon, coen, coleman, colton, crew, cristiano, cooper, corbin, corey, cortez, cravin

D

dale, dallas, dalton, damari, damian, damon, dane, dante, dario, darius, davon, dax, dean, declan, dedrick, delius, demarcus, demetrius, dennis, denzel, deon, derek, devon, dexter, dillon, dimitri, dion, dolan, dominic, drake, drew, drystan, duke, dwayne, dwight, dyson

E

eaton, echo, edan, eddison, eden, edrick, eli, eliam, elias, elijah, elio, eliseo, ellis, emilio, emerson, emmett, enoch, enzo, ernest, eros, essex, evan, evian, ezra

F

fabian, falcon, fallon, farley, felix, fenton, finley, finnick, floyd, flynn, fonso, ford, forester, francisco, franco, freddy, frederick, frodi

G

gabe, gabriel, gaius, gabin, galvin, gareth, garrick, gaston, gaveel, georgie, gemini, giorgio, glade, gonzalo, gray, gregory, greyson, griffin, grover, gunner, guy

H

haim, hadden, hadley, hale, hammond, hanan, hanson, harden, harley, harris, hayes, helio, helix, hendrix, hermes, hiram, holden, holland, holmes, houstan, howard, hudson, hugh, hugo, hunter, hyde

I

iago, ian, icarius, idris, iker, ilario, indigo, isaak, isaiah, israel, ithiel, ives

J

jace, jadon, jago, jahziel, jairo, jakez, jakobe, jamari, janos, jaron, jasper, javier, jaxon, jayden, jaylon, jaziel, jenson, jeremiah, jermaine, jersey, jett, joaquin, jonas, jose, joss, jovani, joziah, judas, jude, julian, julius, junior, justice

K

kace, kaden, kael, kairo, kahlil, kai, kaleb, kamden, kanan, karson, kashton, kasper, keenan, keiran, kennedy, keon, kenton, kenzo, keyon, kez, kiah, killian, kingsley, kito, klaus, kobe, koby, kodah, kohen, kolton, kristian, knox, kyan, kynan, kyson

L

lamar, lamont, lance, landon, laney, larkin, lawyer, lazarus, leandro, lee, legend, lennox, leno, leon, levi, lex, liko, link, locke, loki, loman, lonzo, lorenzo, luca, lucian, lukas, lyam, lynx

M

mac, machi, macklin, maddox, magnus, maison, major, makeo, malaki, manning, mano, marion, marlon, mars, martez, mathias, maxton, mekhi, meyer, micah, milian, miller, milo, montey, montez, myles

N

nakos, nasir, nathaniel, neel, neriah, nero, nevada, nicolo, nicklaus, nickolai, nico, nike, nikos, nixon, noah, nolan, norton, nye

O

oakley, oberyn, obi, obsidian, octavian, oison, olimpio, olsen, omar, ontario, onyx, orion, orlando, oskar, oslo, oryn, otis, oxford, oxley

P

pablo, paley, palmer, parker, parson, pauly, paxton, pearce, perkin, phelix, phoenix, pierre, pike, podrick, porter, preston, prince, puck

Q

qamar, quinten, quillon, quince

R

racer, radley, rafael, rafer, ralph, rambo, ramiel, ramone, randall, raven, rayan, reed, reese, rhydian, ricardo, ridley, riker, riley, river, robin, rocco, roderick, roland, roman, romeo, ronan, roni, rowan, royden, rufus, ryder, ryland

S

sadler, safari, salem, salix, salvador, sami, santiago, sawyer, sean, seaton, severo, shayne, shiloh, silas, silvano, simba, skander, skyler, slade, spencer, spiro, stanley, stefan, syrus

T

talmon, tane, tanner, tate, tatum, tavis, teddy, terence, theo, theon, tirion, titus, tobias, tommen, tonio, travis, trey, troye, trystan, turner, tyrell, tyrese, tyson

U

ulan, uri, uriel, urien

V

vadim, vale, vance, valentine, vaughn, venturo, venus, vermont, vero, victor, vidor, vince, volante, voss

W

wade, walker, walter, warner, warren, watson, waylan, wayne, wilder, wilson, wilton, wolfgang, wyatt, wynton

X

xander, xavier, xenos, xylon

Y

yates, york, yuri, yusef

Z

zacharias, zade, zavier, zayn, zed, zeke, zero, zeus, zion

[starcunning]

QUICK for whoever comes to mind first and you haven’t done yet

You didn’t name the character, so I pick the character without a name. ; )

 Q   :   QUESTION.   would your muse ask the big question or expect their partner to?

Neither. For one thing she’s barred from further sacrament, and for another, I just don’t foresee it being a thing. Maybe. He’d have to ask, though. She’d never presume.

 U   :   UNREQUITED.   has your muse had their heart broken?

Maybe. I keep feeling like there was some sort of something between her and Arrow Fei. I suspect it ended with his death. Before she was Curst, she had flings and couplings, but was not exactly in the best position to consider her romantic future anyway.

 I    :   I LOVE YOU.   does your muse find ‘i love you’ easy or hard to say?

If there was something like that with Arrow, I think it would have been easy. They were equals. With Edrick it’s harder: although he insists on treating her as an equal too, it’s not something she’s fully able to accept.

 C   :   CHOCOLATE.   does your muse like chocolate? which one is their favourite?

I imagine so. Her father probably brought treats like that on the occasions he visited his children, but after she left with her elder brother Giraud, it would have been a less frequent thing in her life. Sancour probably has wonderful chocolate, and whether she’s right or not (they do pretty well on Hesperus, and it’s easy to find on Thracian Primarus), she will forever insist on the superiority of her homeworld’s confectionary.

 K   :   KISS.   is your muse a good kisser? why / why not?

Yes. No doubt about that in my mind, which is probably why I think about this thing with Arrow. There was probably someone before her burden, too. I guess I’ll find out when I write about that missing finger of hers.

[ssironstrange]

My playlists!

this may sound snobby of me but i really don’t care. i have fucking excellent taste in music. i have a thing for music to the point i’m a bit of an audiophile. music is so crazy important to me. i could probably write a 10k essay on all the reasons i love music. but, anyway. thought i would share the playlists i write to or just... do anything to, really.

Spotify

My obligatory Ironstrange playlist - this one is a hefty one at 422 songs at the time of writing this. This is generally upbeat and energetic with a lot of classic rock, alt rock, 80s stuff, and then a dash of love songs and sprinkle of instrumental/orchestral stuff. i do a lot of writing to this one, but more than anything it’s just my jam out playlist.

Slow smut playlist - the typical stuff you’d have playing in the background while making some sweet slow love. slower tempos, deeper bass, more haunting vocals. i really love writing to this one for just about anything, but especially writing passionate sex.

Hard smut playlist - s p i c y. hard hitting, deep bass, lewd and explicit lyrics. bangers for banging to. i think this one is just a bunch of fun, honestly. it’s great for writing some hardcore smut to, or just to jam out without shame.

Ed’s dead - the rest of these are character specific but still have general themes. this one is the tearjerker playlist. for all your whump, angst, and hurt/comfort needs. tbh i probably write most often to this one no matter the subject! this was designed around the dramatic scene of a character death in a roleplay. it’s very feelsy.

The squish - so lmao despite the title this one is a rather interesting mix. Made for Ed’s boyfriend who is basically a celtic grim reaper, very violent, and a huge party boy. theres like traditional celtic music plus hard rock plus some love songs. its... just a weird mix. just like their relationship. hella fun, though.

Edrick - music for my character, a japanese werecat/nekomata who is alllll sorts of mentally fucked up, aggressive as fuck, absolutely will not admit he’s submissive, drug addict, into some hardcore edgeplay bdsm, and loves his boyfriend so much it drives him crazy but he’ll never say it. So what kind of playlist does a dude like that get? heavy angst, dark and creepy beats, hard rock, a smidge of traditional and modern japanese music, and general angry shit. it’s upbeat but like... in the “i’m getting amped up to get my own ass beat” kind of way.

Pandora

Work radio - i’ve spent like... 8? years or some shit fine tuning this one. it was originally created to listen to at work and just became sort of a general listen to at any time station. theres a little edm, a little of current hits, stuff like hozier and adele, a bit of alt rock, some soundtracks.... its really a wide spread of stuff.

Dub luck - idk whats up with the name, my s/o created this one originally and i took it over. it’s purely EDM with a focus on dubstep.

Guardians of the galaxy - preeeettty much what the title says. inspired by gotg, so lots of classic rock and 80s stuff.

Chill out - a mixture of trance and softer edm, soundtracks, and classical.

Youtube

Halloween Bday - SPOOPY PARTY TIME!! I basically listen to this for the entire month of october LOL but also what i use for my birthday parties since its so close to halloween

vikings - music from the show vikings and other really cool modern vikingish stuff with just a pinch of nordic metal. this shit is epic and i fucking love it.

anyway, thats all so far! I’m working on curating a few others for spotify like a purely instrumental and orchestral one, videogame themes and remixes, and a few different EDM lists. i’ll probably update and rb this when i get them going. hope you enjoy these!

[crowtoed]

Because I like naming things

Like I REALLY like naming things (need a character name? Lemme at it.). So I thought of names for all of the Vox Machina offspring per my headcanons.

Tried to stick with the flavor of Percy’s name, whatever the hell Whitestone’s naming customs are (SHRUG), and honoring the dead without outright dead guy junior.

I headcanon 8 de Rolo smols, spaced out over a while since Vex is going to be fertile for another several decades and I don’t see she and Percy’s love for each other or desires for a big family waning. 

Frederick Percivalwald von Weissstein Pulaski de Rolo (he has a son named Percival Frederickstein von Musel Klossowski de Rolo IV), called ‘Freddie’. The eldest, born just skirting 9 months after the fall of Vecna.

Bramwell Ignatius Vax’ildanus Isambard de Rolo, called Bram. (BRAMWELL MEANS RAVENWELL, YOU’RE WELCOME) Born just a year after his brother.

Ursula Elaina von Byroden Montford de Rolo (Ursula means ‘bear girl’ essentially, Vex picked out this name in honor of Trinket). I totally ganked this idea from @mischief7manager since those are perfect for Vex. Born almost two years after Bramwell.

Cornelia Whitney Pelorea Othanzia de Rolo, called ‘Cora’. Born a year after Ursula.

Hazel Fortunata Liliebourg Juliana de Rolo (siblings attempted a nickname but she put them in a headlock. You call her by her full name) By this time Vex was utterly jaded with pregnancy and was actually on an adventure when she gave birth... right under a hazel tree near Westrrun. Born three years after Cora.

Oliver Johannes Weisswald du Giffard de Rolo (called ‘Nolly’ or ‘Nol’) Born two years after Hazel.

Sophronia Louise Iounia Rainesford de Rolo (called ‘Posey’) Born four years after Oliver.

Lucrezia Vex’ahliahilde von Byroden Merletta de Rolo (called Lucy) The surprise baby, born a whole seven years after Posey. Spoiled to bits and a favorite playmate of the gnomelings.

I headcanon that Pike changes her name since the Trickfoots are no longer delinquents. Scanlan wants to do whatever his wife wants. She either outright changes it to something to do with Sarenrae (like ‘Lightguard’ or ‘Dawnflower’) or combines her name with Scanlan’s into Shortfoot. They have two twin girls named Rosemaree and Saranna and a youngest son named Burthold (called Burt). Saranna plays the tuba, much to everyone’s chagrin.

Zahra and Kash name their son Vane, they opt not to have another child because of their semi-nomadic lifestyle. He takes after his mother’s tiefling bloodline, but can scowl just like his father.

At some point after the fall of Vecna, Taryon and Lawrence happen upon a half-orc foundling in a town they’d helped save with the Darrington brigade. They adopt the boy and name him Edrick. He spends every summer in Whitestone with the de Rolo brood.

[autoescolaaguavivaiririu-blog]

🚗🚘 Teste Prático 🚘🚗 - Estamos muito orgulhosos dos nossos alunos aprovados no teste prático, parabéns Bruno de Sousa Neckel, Charles A. de Oliveira Pereira, Daniela P. P. Dos Santos, Edrick Metzner, Franciele Fernanda de Lima da Silveira, Daniela C. G. F. Da Rocha, Helena Schiocchet, Jule Bitencourt, Mateus H. Dos Santos Ferreira, Mayara Harger, Suzan Aline dos Santos e aos demais aprovados !!! - Faça sua matrícula também - 👇 ⚠️Nossos contatos:⚠️ 📞(47) 3437-2530 - WhatsApp 📞(47) 3026-7349 📞(47) 99776-2165 - WhatsApp 📱@autoescolaaguavivaiririu 📷 https://goo.gl/R5LQAQ 🏫 Rua: Iririú n°1436 - Iririú - Joinville #autoescola #autoescolaaguaviva #joinville #promocao #cnh #carteirademotorista #transito #testepratico #aulateorica #joinvillefazbem #joinvillesc (em Auto Escola Água Viva Iririú) https://www.instagram.com/p/BwE3l_-h9BH/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=198epxj6ygw2

[goodqueenaly]

To what extent do you think the Starks(and the North as a whole) were involved in the whole "blood sacrifice" business pre-conquest?

Well, it’s pretty established in Westerosi historiography that blood sacrifices offered to the old gods were an actual historical phenomenon in the North:

The men of the North are descendants of the First Men, their blood only slowly mingling with that of the Andals who overwhelmed the kingdoms to the south. The original language of the First Men—known as the Old Tongue—has come to be spoken only by the wildlings beyond the Wall, and many other aspects of their culture have faded away (such as the grislier aspects of their worship, when criminals and traitors were killed and their bodies and entrails hung from the branches of weirwoods.)

(emphasis added)

Moreover, it definitely lasted for quite a bit of time: 

“Then a long cruel winter fell,” said Ser Bartimus. “The White Knife froze hard, and even the firth was icing up. The winds came howling from the north and drove them slavers inside to huddle round their fires, and whilst they warmed themselves the new king come down on them. Brandon Stark this was, Edrick Snowbeard’s great-grandson, him that men called Ice Eyes. He took the Wolf’s Den back, stripped the slavers naked, and gave them to the slaves he’d found chained up in the dungeons. It’s said they hung their entrails in the branches of the heart tree, as an offering to the gods. The old gods, not these new ones from the south. Your Seven don’t know winter, and winter don’t know them.”

[C]onsider Maester Yorrick’s Wed to the Sea, Being an Account of the History of White Harbor from Its Earliest Days, which recounts the practice of blood sacrifice to the old gods. Such sacrifices persisted as recently as five centuries ago, according to accounts from Maester Yorrick’s predecessors at White Harbor.

Edrick “Snowbeard” came some generations after Theon “the Hungry Wolf”, whose reign coincided with the Andal Invasion (he was, at the very least, king after Rodrik Stark, who won Bear Island back from the Hoare kings), so at least well into the rule of the Andals below the Neck, House Stark was still taking a prominent role in this “grislier aspect” of their faith. Moreover, if that Wed to the Sea can be believed, the practice continued for several millennia after that (only two centuries before the Targaryens arrived - amazingly recent in the long history of the North and Westeros in general). 

Now, to be sure, how long the Starks officially presided over macabre human sacrifices in the name (names?) of the old gods is unknown; those instances of blood sacrifices recorded by Maester Yorrick’s predecessors could have been the work of old gods fundamentalists (for lack of a better term), unknown either to the Stark in Winterfell or perhaps even their local Manderly overlords. Certainly, based off the excellent work @racefortheironthrone did in his second Politics of the Seven Kingdoms essay, I would think that the Starks took an active role in cultivating the process in at lest their earlier days; the Stark scheme was to make themselves indispensable to the North as a socio-political unit, and a leadership role in blood sacrifices, like their association with Winterfell and the Wall, helped them in a place of religious and supernatural supremacy within the North. 

Unfortunately, as we know little about what happened with the Starks between the Andal Invasion and Torrhen kneeling to Aegon, we can’t say what might have made the practice stop (or, at least, quiet down). Perhaps, once the Manderlys settled themselves in White Harbor, the Starks found it expedient to drop the open practice of stringing their enemies’ guts through trees; southron and Essosi traders might have looked askance at doing business in a place where such a “barbaric” custom was still supported. Perhaps as well, in order to keep the Seven-worshiping Manderlys firmly fixed in their Starks loyalty, Winterfell agreed to end the practice. Without more information, we can’t say.

[goalhofer]

2019-20 San Antonio Spurs Famous Relations

LaMarcus Aldridge: Cousin of Minnesota United F.C. FB Marlon Hairston.

DeMarre Carroll: Nephew of St. John's University Red Storm men's basketball head coach Mike Anderson.

Patty Mills: Nephew of former Brisbane Bullets F Danny Morseu and cousin of Newcastle Knights C Edrick Lee & Cairns Taipans C Nathan Jawai.

[vampireadamooc]

Shout Out to the Stunt Team who worked on ALVH

Stunts Andy Abele...stunts

Kenny Alexander...stunts

Matt Baker...stunts

Hunter Baxley...stunts

Matt Berberi...stunts

Lucas Bernard...stunts

John Bernecker...stunts

Christopher Berry...stunts

Bob Brown...stunts

Troy Brown...stunts

Edrick Browne...stunts

Chris Bryant...stunts

Roy Burger...stunts

Dieter Busch...stunts

Jay Caputo...stunts

Jay Carrado...stunts

Kyle Clements...stunts

Jeffrey J. Dashnaw...stunts (as J.J. Dashnaw)

Christopher Di Meo...stunt performer

Shauna Duggins...stunts

Doc Duhame...stunts

Zack Duhame...stunts

Justin Eaton...stunt performer / stunts

Chris J. Fanguy...stunts

Guy Fernandez...stunts

Jeff Galpin...stunts

David Scott Gaudin...stunts

Adam Gomez...stunts

Nelson Greaves...stunts

Thomas Robinson Harper...stunts

Will Harper...stunts

Regis Harrington...stunts

Freddie Hice...stunts

Ronan Hice...stunts

Jace Jeanes...stunts

James Juckem...stunts

Jacob Kabel...stunts

Janice Knox...stunts (as Janice Knox-Little)

Matt Kutcher...stunts

Theo Kypri...stunts

Don Lee...fight coordinator (as Don L. Lee) / stunt coordinator: second unit (as Don L. Lee)

David Little...stunts (as David A. Little)

Travis Wade Locke...stunts (as Travis Locke)

Billy D. Lucas...stunts

Dave Macomber...stunt double: Dominic Cooper / stunts

Sam Malone...stunts

Kyle McCasland...stunts

John Medlen...stunts

Brandon Melendy...stunts

Michael Moody...stunt performer

Chris Palermo...stunts

Alec Rayme...stunts

Justin Riemer...stunts

Larry Rippenkroeger...stunts

Mic Rodgers...stunt coordinator

Eric R Salas...stunts (as Eric Salas)

Alex Schoenauer...stunts (as Alex Buciellato Schoenauer)

Lew Scott...stunts

Wesley Scott...stunts

Matthew R. Staley...stunts

Larnell Stovall...stunts

Ronn Surels...stunts

Richard C. Taylor...stunts (as Rich Taylor)

Betty Thompson...stunts

Mallory Thompson...stunts

Tim Trella...stunts

Igor Tsay...fight choreographer

Eric VanArsdale...stunts

Michael Walton...stunt double: anthony mackie

Lee Whittaker...stunts

Joe Williams...stunts (as Joe Nin Williams)

Mike Wilson...stunts

Dana Michael Woods...stunts

Scott Workman...stunts

Danny Wynands...stunts (as Dan Wynands)

John Zimmerman...stunts

Lucas Bernard...utility stunts (uncredited)

Jay Caputo...stunt rigger (uncredited)

Shauna Duggins...stunt double: Erin Wasson (uncredited)

Justin Eaton...stunt double: Benjamin Walker (uncredited)

Chris J. Fanguy...utility stunts (uncredited) / water safety (uncredited)

Jeff Galpin...utility stunts (uncredited)

Scott Helgert...stunt performer (uncredited)

Matt Kutcher...utility stunts (uncredited)

Don Lee...co-stunt coordinator (uncredited)

Kyle McCasland...stunt wrangler (uncredited)

Shane Rangi...stunt performer (uncredited)

Eric R Salas...water safety (uncredited)

Aaron Toney...stunt double: Anthony Mackie (uncredited)

Eric VanArsdale...water safety (uncredited)

Lee Whittaker...key stunt rigger (uncredited) / stunt coordinator: second unit (uncredited)

John Zimmerman...stunt rigger (uncredited)