#gaerwen

[dmhtyresllangefni]

So why wait? Visit Tyres Gaerwen today and experience the difference that high-quality tyres and exceptional service can make. With their convenient location and friendly staff, they make it easy to get the tyres you need, when you need them.

[ladyofthestarlight]

🥀~LADIES OF THE HOUSE OF FEANOR~🥀

👑Lainfae Hriviel

Lady of Himring

“Slave of Thauron”

Wife to Maedhros the Tall

Mother of Aracarno and Tinestelodh

🐉Nindelire Sildarien

Lady of The Gap of Maglor

Daughter of Almawe

“Dragon Slayer”

Wife to Maglor Kanafinwe the Ministrel

🦜Uraewen Filidenthithiriel

Born in Doriath

Daughter of Mablung

“The Traitor”

Lover of Celegorm Turkafinwe the Fair

⚔️Halef Caradwend

Lady of Bethril

Daughter of Hardang of the House of Haleth

“Haleth Reborn”

Wife to Caranthir Morifinwe the Dark

Mother of Haliel Meldael

💍Maitanis Nolwendriel

Lady of Himlad

Daughter of Nolorad of the House of Rumil

“The Wise”

Wife to Curufin Atarnike the Crafty

Mother of Celebrimbor Tyelperinquar

❄️Ninquelosse Gaerwen

Princess of Doriath

Daughter of Galadhon

“The Exile”

Lover of Amrod Telufinwe the Wraith

🐍Istalind Aedhriel

Princess of the Vanyar

Lady of Amon Ereb

Daughter of Findis of the House of Finwe

“The Snake”

Wife to Amras Pityafinwe the Wicked

☠️Valaros Mormiriel

Princess of the Noldor

Lady of Ossiriand and the Forsaken Lands

Daughter of Feanor Curufinwe

“The Dark Lady of the Noldor”

Every man’s wife and every woman’s husband

-My art

[wondrouswendy]

Top 10(ish) Friendship Moments with Zath

So today is the 10 year anniversary of me knowing @rangerzath (formally ijaat on Tumblr).

This is a compilation of my favorite moments/experiences shared with Zath over the years. Some of these moments are funny. Some involve mistakes on my behalf, but Zath had my back. What do all of these moments share? They're heart-warming reminders that sometimes you can meet people online and form a friendship with them that survives the test of space, distance, timezones, ups and downs, and grief.

It's hard to believe 10 years have passed since we've known each other, but here's to 10 more years of more laughs, more jokes, and more joy. Thanks for being a great friend!

1 - Zathran's People Needed Him (SWTOR)

This is one of those memories that we often refer to amongst ourselves. The comedic timing between our comments is great.

1.25 - Gaerwen Aurell and Zathran Ijaat (SWTOR)

This was the friendship dynamic duo that started it all. Countless AUs spawned from these two, countless stories, and eventually, we both took the dive and merged our SWTOR legacies/families together into one universe.

1.5 - Zath Finally Gets Nightmare Brontes Wings (SWTOR)

Zath was one of the last people in the guild to earn the NIM Brontes wings lmao -- but when they did, it was great!

1.75 - Barsen'thor Buddies (SWTOR)

Barsen'thor Buddies was created as a guild for Zath and I originally. We were just a two person team until we decided to recruit people raid and pvp with us. We recruited people from the server and from tumblr in the olden days. We used to raid regularly and achieved many raid oriented goals. Some highlights include discussing whether this scene from National Treasure could be considered iconic to talking about OCs to labeling bad pugs as the proverbial "Steve."

2 - Almost Instant Regret (Overwatch)

Throughout our Overwatch 1 career, Zath often played Zarya would use the Graviton Ultimate to set up team wipes for me while I was playing Hanzo. I got really cocky in this game, but Zath had my back when someone tried to spoil my play of the game...

3 - Zath Becomes Superman (Overwatch)

The Iron Giant has nothing on this.

4 - Zath Panics When I Scream (PUBG)

Notoriously, in my early days of playing battle royale games like PUBG and Apex, I would get jumpscared easily by enemy players. I tend to scream/panic first, shoot second, give Zath information third. Not really helpful for your teammates! But this has become kind of a meme between us even though I no longer get jumpscared (as often).

5 - Check Your Corn-- (PUBG)

Zath doesn't get jumpscared often, but when they do... Well, make sure you're prepared with backup clothes. Sound warning on this one.

6 - Hacksaw Ridge (Apex Legends)

In this epic, thrilling match from the early days of Apex, Zath played Lifeline and learned the hard way what it takes to be a field medic in a battle royale game. I love this memory because it features some of Zath's funniest one liners, Zath saving the day countless times over. It also features a good old instance of me getting jumpscared.

7 - That Was a Mozambiqueeeeeeee (Apex Legends)

It's not often that Zath breaks the sound barrier with their voice, but lo and behold... sound warning on this one :P

8 - Thaeus and Ziael (World of Warcraft)

I think of our WoW OCs, Thaeus and Ziael have had the most development and story-based growth. A druid and a deathknight, who would have thought that they could fall in love? They are one of my favorite pairings because of their personalities and their dynamics. Zath has created a death knight character who subverts many of the typical tropes we see with these kinds of characters. Thaeus is kind, warm (in spite of being a *frost* death knight), and loving towards Ziael and his family. He is Zath's favorite of their large swath of OCs and played characters. It goes without saying that Zath is an excellent death knight and it's been a pleasure to see how Thaeus has grown in both retail as Zath's perpetual tinkered character and now in Classic as one of the guild's highest parsers.

9 - Rated Battlegrounds with Zath Leading (World of Warcraft, Retail)

Zath always was a champ leading our RBG team. This is my favorite game recorded from that era. This game has a little bit of it all. People ribbing Zath playfully. Zath and I bantering over Frost Mage being good, for once! Ultimately, this game was a win where everyone had fun.

10 - Zath Podfics (Control 2019)

Zath has started reading some of my fics out loud. Honestly, this has been one of the greatest gifts they have ever given me. Hearing my stories outloud has helped me overcome some of my own imposter syndrome as a writer. When I hear Zath reading my stories, it shows me that I am a good writer. I hear the cadence, the intended tone of dialogue, the humor within humorous scenes. Normally I'm so detached from what I'm writing because I'm so immersed in it already. Having an outside perspective bringing the scenes to life has been a tremendous gift, one that I know has been produced with love, passion, and care.

[giftyworld]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Nine West Gingham Bow Peep Toe Sling back Heel Shoes 8.5.

[christinamac1]

Welsh groups call on the National Eisteddfod to reject funding from USA nuclear and arms company Westinghouse

The National Eisteddfod receives sponsorship money for the Science Pavilionfrom nuclear power and arms company Westinghouse from the United States.Westinghouse recently announced that they are setting up an office atM-Sparc, Gaerwen, Ynys Môn to develop nuclear decomissioning skills. In 2017, Toshiba Westinghouse went bankrupt after having to abandon buildingnew nuclear reactors at the…

[fingons-rad-harp]

@jurassicobsessor @herinke9

it’s about eldarion falling for his childhood best friend and the stuffy royal advisors that aragorn can’t justify getting rid of even though he wants to tell him that he needs to marry a princess, so he courts rívorn in secret for years before she finally marches up to aragorn and follows in his footsteps by asking her foster father for his child’s hand

it’s about gaerwen becoming anarórë’s lady in waiting and Y E A R N I N G and feeling so guilty about it because she’s ENGAGED to gaerwen’s BROTHER so she’s off limits except that alphros is aroace as fuck and he and anarórë are qpps getting married for convenience and WOAH ANARÓRË LIKES GIRLS GAERWEN HAS A CHANCE FOLKS

it’s about iþilmë who is hardly ever seen outside the library and can usually be found arguing with the most learned gondorian historians on minute details until she angrily drags the nearest elf into the discussion so they can confirm whatever she was saying (much to the chagrin of the scholars, honestly that’s cheating)

it’s about tinweriel spending all her time in the stables and being able to out-shoot any of the rangers of ithilien, rising through their ranks so quickly that she breaks faramir’s record as the youngest captain, though it’s only a few more years before she passes on the title to join the royal family of rohan

it’s about how lómelindë does not inherit her parents’ height, and can usually be found riding on aragorn’s shoulders for the first ten years of her life, and how she takes the lead on re-settling arnor and seduces a guard of the citadel and how she’s always singing or playing music

and it’s about how eldarion’s and rívorn’s first child is a girl, and aragorn brings up the númenórean law to make sure she will inherit the throne (after all, he says, if silmariën’s line had ruled, númenor might never have fallen), and how maglor cries when they name her elerossiel

i’m having feelings about my fourth age kids again 🥺

[jackmoorejan20]

CTC Hair & Beauty Supplies provide you the best Hair Products in Gaerwen. Visit here: https://goo.gl/maps/iJ7Tj1hazA5Trffw8

[ceriothemberheart]

Only a fool would challenge Gaerwen Hopecrusher, this old and experienced blood legion soldier.

[ineloqueent]

where the wildflowers grow

Gwilym Lee x Fem!Reader

synopsis: they say there lives a witch in the wildflower woods, but Gwilym has never believed the tales. until now.

warnings: use of medieval swords (no blood)

word count: 2.1k

see the moodboard here!

⭒

It’d been dark when he’d set out that morning, and though it was always dark on his mornings in the woods, this day had begun darker than usual.

He’d dressed by the flame of a single candle and sheathed his sword at his side, fastening the buckles of his boots with practiced hands, for this was routine.

Gwilym liked routine. He even liked his shifts in the Wildflower Woods, and while the other members of the royal guard drew straws to determine which unlucky bastard would be patrolling the woods that day, Gwilym always volunteered.

The woods were quiet, and an outlander might have thought that this silence was what the men feared, the dull buzz that began in one’s ears once exposed to soundlessness for an extended period of time, alone with the sound of one’s breath and the wealth of one’s thoughts, but the outlander would have been sorely mistaken.

The men did not fear silence; they feared what lived in the silence.

It was said that a witch lived in the Wildflower Woods, capable of a dark and terrible magic, magic which the king had long since outlawed, criminalised. There had been innumerable huntings and burnings when the legislation had passed, and to this day, every citizen of the kingdom could hear the cries of the men and women killed for crimes they had most likely not committed.

No exceptions had been made, and everyone deemed a witch had faced a terrible fate upon the courtyard pyre of the Castle Gaerwen.

No exceptions had been made, but one particular individual had slipped from the grasp of the king’s guard.

They called her Morgana, after the enchantress of Arthurian legend, and she was feared as equally as the woman of the legend. It was said her gaze was deadly, and that she could take any form she desired, turn water to liquid poison, revive both the dying and the already dead, and change the weather at will. No one had any power over her, for even the elements bowed to her magic, and so she had been deemed too much of a risk for the royal guard to capture.

And so, the royal guard now patrolled the Wildflower Woods morning and night, to ensure that the witch did not move to attack the good citizens of Daryn.

Gwilym had patrolled the woods for years now, and had neither seen nor heard any sign of a witch. Thus, as all logic demanded of him, he did not believe the tales. The other men called him foolish, shuddered at his naïveté, but Gwilym laughed merrily at their fears whenever he was given the chance. He did not believe the tales, and so he did not fear the woods. The woods were a solace, and in living the life that he did, with chases and fighting and travelling, it was nice to have some time to himself, in a place where the world was quiet.

His boots crunching on the gravel of the path which led out from the guards’ quarters and toward the outer wall of Castle Gaerwen, Gwilym nodded morning greetings to those arriving home from the night shift.

Women stood lined up to draw water from the wells in the courtyard, and a group of them giggled as Gwilym passed. He sighed inwardly. He did not encourage their attentions, and yet, they continued to behave in this manner whenever he was about.

Ignoring the chatter that followed him, Gwilym arrived at the outer gate.

“Morning,” he said to Mercher, his friendly acquaintance and the man whom Gwilym was to share the day’s shift with.

Mercher mumbled his own greeting, and Gwilym smiled.

“Nervous? It’s just the woods, you know.”

The other man grunted. “There’s more to those woods than you think, ffwl.”

“There is no witch in those woods, fy ffrind,” Gwilym countered good-humouredly.

“Perhaps you are right,” Mercher responded, as he tapped his fingers along the hilt of his sheathed sword, “but there are other things too.”

Gwilym raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Mmh. Venomous serpents larger than fully grown horses, boars with tusks longer than your forearm, spiders which will crawl into your eyes if you close them unawares.”

Gwilym’s eyes twinkled; he was amused. “Well then, Mercher,” he clapped his companion on the back and strode forward through the opening gate, “we should get going so that these creatures can have their breakfast.”

Mercher swallowed thickly, standing rooted to the spot. With a shake of his head, he hurried to catch up to Gwilym, who was still smiling to himself.

“By rights, we shouldn’t be allowed to risk our lives like this,” said Mercher.

Gwilym laughed. “You should have been a baker instead of a soldier! Courage, fy ffrind. It will get you far in life.”

⭒

As they were only two, Gwilym and Mercher were forced to split up in their duties. Gwilym appreciated the solace, but Mercher was fearful. The former repeated his advice of courage to the latter, and the two parted ways.

A deep mist hovered betwixt the trees this morn, and so it was difficult to see very far beyond one’s own hand, but it also afforded the woods a mysterious quality, one which only fuelled Gwilym’s lust for adventure; outwardly, he was grown, but at heart, he was still a child, and longed to live the stories of pirates and highwaymen that his mother had told him when he was little.

Gwilym was still searching for his purpose in existence, and though he had yet to find it, he was sure it involved adventure, something more than this little life he presently lived.

Almost as though the world around him were aware of his longing, a rustling arose from the surrounding shrubbery.

Gwilym’s hand flew to the sword at his side, his knees bent, prepared to run.

There was silence. Not even a bird cawed in the canopy overhead, no river water rushed, no wind was heard between the trees.

Something slithered in the undergrowth.

Slithered. It was very distinct.

Hyperbolic images of terrible, scaled bodies with large mouths bearing fearsome, pointy teeth dripping venom conjured themselves in Gwilym’s mind, and his heart kicked up its rhythm.

His eyes flitted about the bushes, the endless wildflowers which carpeted the forest floor and provided the wood with its name, but he could see nothing. It was still rather dark out, and the mist did his eyes no aid.

Then, suddenly, a great, scaly body launched itself from the undergrowth, and before Gwilym could react, tore its fangs down his calf.

He gave a cry of pain, and lashed out with his sword, but the venom must have been rapidly acting, because his vision had already turned blurry.

But with, quite literally, a stroke of luck, he struck the creature, and with a violent hiss, it retreated rapidly back from whence it had come.

Gwilym was left to his solace once more, but now he was panting, and nearly doubled over in trying to lean his weight against a tree.

He shouted for Mercher, once, twice, but no response came.

He was on his own.

Feeling as though he were going blind, Gwilym staggered forward at a pace that was rather quick, fuelled by desperation. Pain lanced through his leg and up toward his heart, and he knew that one must not allow venom to circulate once in the veins, but what else was he to do? Lay himself down to die?

No, for that would be a coward’s death, and Gwilym Lee was no coward.

A light flickered in the mist, between the trees.

Perhaps he was hallucinating. It was not unlikely.

But he held onto hope, and dragged his heavy feet forward until the light grew bigger, brighter.

The light came from a window, in a cottage built of heavy stones. Gwilym imagined the craftsmanship to be excellent, but he did not know for sure. His vision was beginning to grow dark around the edges.

At last, he happened upon the door. With a heavy arm, he knocked against the wood, and collapsed, just as the door swung open.

⭒

He could smell woodsmoke, and heather and all kinds of herbs.

His eyes were heavy, as though he had not slept for days, and a dull pain throbbed in his leg. But it was nothing of the agonising pain he had felt before.

There was a sound like the clinking of metal pots and pans, and someone was humming.

With tremendous effort, Gwilym rose to his elbows, and opened his eyes.

The light was low, but there were candles aplenty, and they flickered softly, in their places about the room— in teacups and saucers, upon plates and wooden carvings, standing proudly in window sills and atop shelves.

On the shelves, there were potted plants and what appeared to be bottled herbs, labeled with names both familiar and unfamiliar to Gwilym’s vocabulary.

His eyes wandered about his peculiar surroundings, before returning to where he lay— in some sort of bed that was really more of a cot, made of linen and crowded with sheepswool blankets and a stitched duvet.

Bless the kindness of strangers, he thought, until his gaze happened upon his host.

She locked eyes with him before he could turn away, and his breath caught, because the woman before him was enchantingly beautiful, and without a doubt the witch of the tales he had not believed.

A slow smile curved over her lips. “My stare is lethal, no?” she said, a thick Welsh accent carving her English words differently from the way Gwilym spoke his.

His first instinct was to laugh, and he almost did, before he thought better of it. There was no telling what this witch was capable of, and presently, he was utterly at her mercy.

But a question had occurred to him as well, and so he asked it.

“However did you guess that my English is better than my Welsh?”

That slow smile touched her pretty lips again. “Like you say, it was a guess.”

“Damn good guess,” Gwilym said, not bothering to hide the fact that he was impressed.

She laughed, a warm sound, and he felt oddly comforted by it. “Us gwrachod do have a talent for those sorts of things.”

“So it is true, then?” he spoke carefully. “You are the witch of the Wildflower Woods.”

“I am. Morgana, if you will.”

He fixed her with an inquisitive look. “Yes, but that is not your name, is it?”

She had been standing by a stove, but now, she wiped her hands on the apron that hung over her full skirt, and walked toward him. She perched in a rocking chair positioned by the cot and leaned back into it, folding her arms.

“No one has ever asked my name before.”

Her voice was quiet, low, and surely as enchanting, as lethal, as her stare. But he detected a loneliness beneath the words.

“Well,” Gwilym said, “I am asking you now, politely, if you will give it to me.”

She narrowed her eyes. “There is much in a name, Gwilym.”

He raised his eyebrows in surprise, sitting up properly. “You know my name?”

She nodded. “A pretty name, no? But a bit long. I like Gwil better. Do people call you that?”

His heart felt strangely light at his name on her lips, even when it was shortened. “They do now,” he said, and thought that her eyes glittered. “And your name?”

She murmured it, and it sounded to him like the songs of old, a lilting melody with an alluring darkness humming beneath the surface.

He rolled the sound over his tongue, and felt a faint blush rise to his cheeks as he said it. Indeed, there was much in a name. An intimacy, too. Gwil did not often use the given names of his acquaintances.

“You healed my leg,” he remarked thoughtfully, shifting it from beneath the blankets.

“And purged y gwenwyn from your veins,” she added.

Her eyes were deep, and he felt himself sinking into her gaze as he met it.

He murmured, “You saved my life.”

“Ie,” she said. “That I did. A witch is not so bad, you see.”

Her smile was teasing, and he knew then that he had nothing to fear from the witch of the Wildflower Woods.

“And for that,” Gwil began, his eyes searching the room for his sword. It was resting just beside him, on the floor by the cot, and he drew it now, standing it upon its point on the stone floor and bowing his head briefly. “I am forever in your debt.”

She smiled, and Gwil feared that more than his honour was indebted to her.

His heart, for certain, was too.

[dmhtyresllangefni]

[ealingestateagents-blog]

Housing plan for Caffi Gaerwen site on Anglesey

Housing plan for Caffi Gaerwen site on Anglesey

www.bbc.com/news/uk-wales-48635998

[wondrouswendy]

Sweating over whether I want to try and do whumptober or kinktober this year… I don’t think I’d write something for every single day mind you, but maybe I could try my hand at it again :x

[brotherhood-ao3feed]

Don't Forget to Blow Out Your Candles

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2ImG07X

by Gaerwen

At the Dugout Inn in Diamond City, Nate and Danse celebrate Nora's birthday just how she likes.

Day Three -- Threesome

Words: 2387, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 3 of Gaerwen's Kinktober 2019

Fandoms: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M, M/M, Multi

Characters: Female Sole Survivor, Male Sole Survivor, Paladin Danse (Fallout)

Relationships: Female Sole Survivor/Male Sole Survivor, Paladin Danse/Female Sole Survivor, Paladin Danse/Male Sole Survivor, Paladin Danse/Female Sole Survivor/Male Sole Survivor

Additional Tags: Threesome - F/M/M, Polyamory, Bisexual Characters, Explicit Sexual Content, Dirty Talk, Birthday Sex, Rimming, Anal Sex, Cunnilingus, Blow Jobs, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Post-Blind Betrayal

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2ImG07X

[giftyworld]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Nine West Gingham Bow Peep Toe Sling back Heel Shoes 8.5.

[enollafaithless]

Fd: DC Comics Ch: Zatanna Zatara Ph: Gaerwen More photos https://osyagallery.com/zatanna-zatara Follow me www.instagram.com/osya.gallery/ Support at www.patreon.com/osya https://ko-fi.com/osyacosplay

[ao3feed-raventrust]

by Gaerwen, Zath

Fate has never been on Khadgar's side. All he has ever wanted is a steady place to call home among people who enjoy his company. Every time he thinks he has found it, fate seems to have other plans in store.

Cursed from birth with the powers of the Guardian and the burdens that come with it, Medivh has known all his life that no happy ending is in store for him. One day, he will lose his battle against great evil, and the last vestiges of himself will burn to ash.

Words: 2453, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Series: Part 1 of An Archive of Longing

Fandoms: World of Warcraft, Warcraft - All Media Types

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Major Character Death

Categories: M/M

Characters: Khadgar (Warcraft), Medivh (Warcraft), Moroes (Warcraft), Cook (Warcraft), Anduin Lothar

Relationships: Khadgar/Medivh (Warcraft), Khadgar & Medivh (Warcraft), Raventrust - Relationship

Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Tragic Romance, Angst, Age Difference, Grief, Canon Blending