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thedovesaredying · 8 months ago

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Flames of Green | CoD x GoT/HotD | Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader x John "Soap" MacTavish | Part 1.

Artwork by Elizabeth

You're the heir to the Iron Throne, the eldest child of the current king with the blood of the Targaryens flowing through your veins. Unfortunately, you're due to be married off to a mysterious Northern lord by the name of John MacTavish. At least your closest friend and member of your guard, Simon Riley, will be by your side throughout it all.

A/N: I'm back in my House of the Dragon era, so I'm mixing hyperfixations. The Cannibal doesn't get enough love, he's a nasty bastard and he deserves to cause some chaos. It will eventually be a Ghost x Reader x Soap relationship and likely a bit of a slowburn. Literally just for my own entertainment, but I hope y'all enjoy.

Warnings: None

Masterlist: CoD Masterlist

It’s times like this that you mourn the loss of your youth. Forced to sit in silence while discussions are held by old men around a table, weighing up the advantages and disadvantages of your future marriage to every potential high lord in Westeros. Your opinion is never considered, let alone asked for by any of your father’s advisors, your compliance expected regardless.

If you had been born a man you could have your pick of any woman in the kingdom to take as a wife, but instead, you’re forced to simply accept whatever man is placed in front of you. Such is the burden of being the princess and heir to House Targaryen. You will be made to give up the right to rule the kingdom to the high lord assigned to you, never to touch the ever-elusive Iron Throne that should have been yours by right.

You had never really taken the prospect of marriage too seriously in your youth, always considering it a problem for the you of the future to deal with. You didn’t care to forge lasting alliances with other ladies and lords, too busy dragging your poor best friend, Simon, through the gardens and dirtying your extravagant dresses.

But those days were over.

Talk of wedding a powerful lord and bringing forth the next line of Targaryen children is all that fills your ears now. You’re forced to entertain every man, young and old, that wishes to gain your favour with a polite smile and feigned interest. You don’t even have your dear Simon to offer you his companionship and a break from the cruel realities of the world. No doubt he would have entertained you with his dry remarks about each man set before you.

It has been years since you last saw Simon. He was taken from the Red Keep by his father and sent to squire for another lord in the hopes of teaching him the art of warfare. Lord Riley was a foul man, constantly berating his son for spending his time with the Princess rather than roughhousing with his fellow boys. He considered the boy too soft and squeamish at the sight of blood to make a good future lord of their keep.

You disagreed, of course, Simon was perfect just the way he was; gentle and kind to all those around him. Your friend couldn’t hurt a fly, but he was still one of the bravest people you knew.

You dread to think just how much he would have hated being drawn into battles, forced to kill other men with his own hands. The letters he occasionally wrote to you always steered clear of depicting the violence you were certain he must have been subjected to, but you’re far from naive enough to hope he has yet to participate in any bloodshed. As the years dragged on, word from him has grown scarce, however, to the point where you can hardly remember when you heard from him last.

What you do know, is that he had been sent to offer assistance in maintaining peace throughout the Stepstones, killing raiders and pirates that would endanger trade routes to King’s Landing.

But that was almost six months ago, and there has been little else to soothe your vexed nerves over his safety. He had made a promise to you the day he left, that once his training was done he would return to your side, this time as a knight who would offer himself to your Queen’s Guard once the time was right. Never again would he leave you, more than happy to forfeit the ruling of his own homeland if it meant he could keep you safe.

You had clung to that promise every day for years after his departure, but with each passing moment it become harder to hold out hope of seeing him again. After all, what is one promise between children in the grand scheme of things?

It’s a blessing when you’re finally relieved from the meeting, escaping from the suffocating air within the council chambers and fleeing to the safety of your room. You don’t even pause to ensure one of your guards is following you, getting straight to stripping from your dress and replacing it with your riding gear.

As the carriage carries you away from the city and toward the Dragon Pit your nerves begin to settle. The constant odour of sweat and excrement quickly gives way to fresh air the further away you get. It’s a beautiful day, with hardly a cloud in the sky and wildflowers blooming all along the road. It’s a genuine shame that your day has started so poorly, otherwise you’d have loved to wander the palace gardens and enjoy the midday sun.

The ground is rocky outside of the dragon pit, and you’re jostled around a bit until the carriage comes to a stop. Although this is your destination, the dragon you seek is not here. Your dragon is far too large to be housed within the Pit.

Unlike your younger sister, you were not blessed by the Gods to have your dragon egg hatch while you were in the cradle. All throughout your childhood you sat next to it and prayed for the hatchling to come forth, promising you would care for the creature and love it more than anything. But the baby dragon never arrived.

Many said that it was a sign from the Gods, that you were unfit to be the heir if even your own dragon refused to hatch for you. It was a heavy sentence hanging around your neck, weighing you down and making you feel as though you are worthless, despite the fact you have more power than most of the people laughing at your situation.

None of them are laughing now.

You see your dragon stretched out atop one of the nearby ridges. He’s so large that his wings and tail drape over the edge of the rocks, entirely unconcerned by the humans fearfully gathered beneath him as he snoozes away in the warmth of the sun. His scales are like coal, absorbing every ray of sunshine that he can.

The Cannibal may not be as large as Vhagar, but he’s far older and, as many would argue, far meaner than the old girl. Where most dragons have vibrant, golden eyes, you’re greeted by a pair of sinister green the moment you draw near. His go-to reaction to most things is aggression, and you’ve seen many people meet their end in a blast of emerald flame for merely disturbing him.

It’s for that precise reason you’re stunned to see someone standing beside the grumpy old beast. There’s only one person other than yourself who could get anywhere near the Cannibal without immediately being swallowed whole. The man pauses his rubbing of your dragon’s scales the moment he sees you, only to earn a displeased whack from the Cannibal’s snout. You bite your lip to force down the grin that’s threatening to spread across your face when the man drops down to one knee, his head bowed respectfully.

“Lord Riley,” you nod, “I do believe that’s my dragon you’re touching.” That earns a groan from the Cannibal, his massive head twisting away from you both, as though already bored of the conversation.

“A thousand apologies, princess,” Simon grins, his eyes sparkling with mirth, “your dragon was growing impatient.” The dragon in question huffs, his tail twitching like an agitated cat.

Simon looks so different from the last time you saw him. He’s both taller and broader, completely filled out with muscles. When he stands again, you’re face to face with the rather intimidating bone mask adorning his face. You’re not certain if it’s real bone, but at that moment you could have cared less, throwing yourself at the large man.

He catches you easily, holding you tightly against his larger body. It’s entirely improper and if anyone other than your guards witnessed such an interaction there would no doubt be whispers abound. Perhaps it’s a good thing Simon decided to meet you somewhere so private.

��When did you get back?” you ask, leaning back just long enough to look him in the eye.

“We docked late last night,” he answers, and you can feel the way his chest rumbles with each word. His deep voice soothes something within you, your stress dissipating like mist at dawn. “We received word that the King’s Guard now has an open position,” he continues, and then much to your shock adds, “I’m here to fill that position.”

You pull away from him almost completely, only your hands still gently curled around his gauntlets, “but I heard that your father was recently taken ill, don’t you need to return home?”

While the mask hides the majority of Simon’s face, you can still see the way the skin around his eyes crinkles slightly, “I made a promise to serve my future Queen,” he takes your hand from his arm and presses the back of your palm to where his lips are beneath his mask, “if you’ll have me, princess.”

You can feel your face burning with the intensity with which Simon stares at you. “I’m certain my father will be delighted to have such a well-regarded warrior in his service,” you smile, gently pulling your hands away from the knight, despite the urge to keep holding onto him.

Before you can continue the conversation, the Cannibal turns his head back to your again, nudging at you with an irritated huff. His breath is scalding against your skin, yet it doesn’t burn you, thankfully. You place your hand against the beast’s snout, feeling the thick scales shift under your leather gloves. “Gīda,” you coo to the dragon, waiting until he lowers his wing to the floor to provide you with a way to climb onto his back. He’s far too large for you to mount the same way you would a younger dragon.

Once settling into the Cannibal’s saddle, you grin down at your friend, “I look forward to seeing you in the keep, my lord.” You only have the time to see Simon’s quick nod, before your dragon is leaping from the edge of the ridge, forcing an end to your conversation. You can feel his clear exasperation through your bond and ensure to give the old dragon a scratch to the neck.

#writing #call of duty modern warfare #reader insert #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x you #game of thrones #house of the dragon #crossover

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the-californicationist · 6 months ago

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twenty questions for fic writers!

thank you for the tag @crashtestbunny 🩷 i've been looking forward to this questionnaire!

here's my AO3 link if anyone needs it

1. how many works do you have on ao3?

2. what's your total ao3 word count?

503410

3. what fandoms do you write for?

Call of Duty (AO3)

Game of Thrones (AO3)

Blacklist (AO3)

Doctor Who (Private)

True Blood (Private)

Firefly (Private)

Star Wars (Private)

4. top five fics by kudos

Guile & Guilt (COD: Soap/Reader)

The Window (COD: Poly141/Reader)

Gunslinger (COD: Price/Reader)

5. do you respond to comments?

Yes! I try to respond to all my comments. I miss them sometimes, but for the most part, I try to get to every one.

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Budapest (COD: Price/Reader) TW: Major Character Death

7. what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Good Fences (COD: Price/Reader)

8. do you get hate on fics?

No. I would cry. Keep the hate to yourselves, please. I'm like an unguarded marshmallow of a person.

9. do you write smut?

I think that's the only thing I can write.

10. craziest crossover:

Gravitational Shift (COD/Star Wars: Price/Sith Female OC)

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

No, luckily I'm not famous enough for that.

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! Gunslinger (COD: Price/Reader) is available in Russian.

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

The Sin Eater (COD: Monster!Price/Reader) is co-authored with the illustrious @vampirekilmerfic. When our lives calm down, we'll be finishing the damn thing. 🩷

I am also working on a Regency!Price fic with @ofdivinity01 TBA soon. 🩷

14. all time favorite ship?

SanSan

15. what's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I will finish them all.

16. what are your writing strengths?

Dialogue

Descriptions of dicks

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

Pacing. I'm always in such a hurry.

Lack of variety. I'm addicted to the HEA.

18. thoughts on dialogue in another language?

I have my PhD in Linguistics, so any chance I get, I love to include languages and dialects different from Standard English.

I spent about a month researching the difference between German and Austrian for Guardian (COD: Konig/FemOC). Probably should've spent some time researching the actual video game, but I was too horny.

When I read fics with other languages in them, it makes it feel more realistic to me, and I really enjoy it when authors throw in any locale-specific socio-cultural information as well.

19. first fandom you wrote in?

Harry Potter

20. favorite fic you've written?

Goldfish (GOT: Sandor/Sansa). I love it. I'm so proud of myself for what I was able to accomplish with that fic. Horrible reception, though.

In my COD collection, it would have to be Gunslinger, but I think Ursa Major might give it a run for its money.

NPTs: @vampirekilmerfic // @kit-williams // @deadbranch

#call of duty fanfic #fanfic writing #ao3 writer #by the californicationist

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mariacallous · 8 months ago

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Group chats, including at least one of mine, can’t get enough. #KateGate—loosely, a collection of theories around the whereabouts and well-being of Kate Middleton, the Princess of Wales—presently seems to be occupying more brain cells than oxygen.

Gossip has been flying ever since January, when Middleton took a step back from public life for abdominal surgery. For a while it was just mindless chatter, but then Middleton posted a photo on social media, purportedly taken by her husband, Prince William, that news agencies determined had been manipulated. Then, speculation—that she’d Gone Girl’d, that the royal family was hiding something—turned fully conspiratorial, and turned the conspiracies into a cultural moment. (See also: crossover memes showing Middleton at the weird Willy Wonka experience in Glasgow.)

It is as though, two decades later, the British royal family is just now learning about the Streisand effect. Back in 2003, Barbara Streisand sued a photographer for releasing a picture of her home that few people had seen. But the suit itself, which Streisand ultimately lost, led far more people to the photo than probably would have otherwise seen it, and now there’s a whole effect named after this incident. The royals released an altered photo and now it’s part of a “-gate”: #KateGate. By trying to relay that everything is fine, the photo lured even more people into questioning what was happening with Middleton.

Bottom line: If you’re, say, a member of the monarchy, and you don’t want them thinking your “abdominal surgery” is code for getting a Brazilian butt lift, your best bet, in 2024, is transparency. Anyone with an internet connection now has the kind of bullshit detectorsthat Area 51 believers could’ve only dreamed of—or they act like they do—and they’re going to figure you out.

Granted, they may not find the “right” answer or the “truth,” but they will know when someone is trying to pull a fast one. Thirty years ago, Buckingham Palace may have been able to throw snoopers off, but the internet of 2024 will investigate like no other. We got Taylor Swift conspiracies and QAnon. People wonder if most images are AI-generated for at least a second. Going onto X (formerly Twitter) now feels like stumbling into the writers room of a CSI spinoff—everyone thinks they’re a forensics expert. If anybody, including Middleton, thought no one would notice a doctored photo on Instagram, they were sorely mistaken.

On Monday, TMZ and The Sun released a video showing the Princess of Wales out shopping with Prince William. She was seemingly alive and well. The Sun said it was releasing images of their stroll “in a bid to bring an end to what the Palace has called the ‘madness of social media.’” It did nothing of the sort. Interest in Middleton peaked the next day on Google Trends. #katemiddleton and #whereiskate now have millions of mentions across social media platforms. The madness has not calmed.

People pay attention to the British royal family for the same reason they pay attention to Game of Thrones or House of the Dragon: They love mess. Monday’s grainy footage just made the mess worse. TikTok is full of breakdown videos attempting to debunk the images. Others just wondered aloud if they’d been fully sucked in.

“This was fun for a while, and now I am genuinely at a loss,” one TikTok user posted. “I don’t know if this is how you feel when you actually lose the plot in a conspiracy theory and like five years from now everyone’s like, ‘That’s the moment when we lost them,’ or if we’re like actually watching an insane cover-up take place.”

Following the release of the shopping video and images, “friends of the royals” told The Daily Beast that Middleton would resume her public duties with a “big bang” on March 31, Easter Sunday. On Wednesday, The Cut, which previously wrote that the Middleton affair was a “crisis,” reported that Buckingham Palace was looking for a communications assistant. (Mind you, this is Buckingham, not Kensington, but same operation.) Queen Elizabeth II used to say the royal family must be seen to be believed. That may not be true much longer.

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tabathastan · 1 year ago

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Main masterlist⇩

𝗆𝗒 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗎𝗆𝖻𝗅𝗋

Masterlist pt. 2

Anime

Bungo Stray Dogs

Black Butler

Demon Slayer

Fairy Tail

Jujutsu Kaisen

My Hero Academia

Magi - The Labyrinth of Magic

Hypnosis Mic

Death note

Soul Eater

Tokyo Ghoul

Angels of Death

Noragami

Durarara!!

Kamisana Kiss

Attack on Titan

Pokémon

Code Geass

Fruits Basket

Wind Breaker

Tv Series/Movies

ATLA/LOK

Bratz

Avatar The Way of Water/Fire & Ash

Descendants

Mcu

Game of Thrones

House of the Dragon/Fire & Blood

Hazbin Hotel/ Helluva Boss

h2o: just add water

Harry Potter

TVD/The Originals/Legacies

The Walking Dead

My Little Pony

Monster High

Pixie Hollow

Voltron

Shera

Supernatural

Gravity Falls/Reverse falls Monsters falls

How to Train Your Dragon

Ever After High

Stranger Things

The Owl House

Rise of the Guardians

Twilight

Jurassic Park/World

Frozen

Star Wars

Puss in Boots

Books/Comics

Percy Jackson

School Bus Graveyard

The Cruel Prince

Games

Aphmau

FNAF/Security Breach

Myct

Genshin Impact

Honkai Star Rail

Wuthering Waves

Resident Evil

Call of Duty

Legend of Zelda

Zenless Zone Zero

Other

God/Goddess

Creepypasta

Celebrates

Entry’s | Masky x Reader

Buddies | Ticci Tody x Reader

HOTD & X-Men Crossover

Poems

Natsu Dragneel

#dc comics #marvel mcu #bungo stray dogs #hotd #aphmau #game of thrones #tvd universe #wuthering waves #genshin impact #honkai star rail #black butler #demon slayer #fairy tail #jujutsu kaisen #shera #voltron #atla

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book-of-baba-fett · 2 years ago

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OC Appreciation June 2022

A huge thank you to everyone who submitted OCs! This post wouldn't be possible without you. Feel free to share, and check out all the great OC content below the cut!

* indicates 18+/NSFW Content. If you notice a NSFW fic is not tagged as such, please let me know and I will edit.

✨ Nat's Recs - some of my own personal favorites

Fanfiction:

✨Across the Stars* by @djarrex (OCs -Priya, Gelissa, and Garran Gayiyla)

The Bad Batch: Trespass by @shadestepping (Multiple OCs)

Bonsoir* by @kaminocasey (OC - Cassia Nu aka Cash)

✨ By Any Other Name* & What Blooms in Thunder* by @rowansparrow (Clone OC - Rose/Gol'Chek, Nautolan OC - Quill, Human OCs Athena and Kiran, Garbak (Original Species) OC - Ju'Lah.)

✨Call Me Home * by @twistedstitcher27 (Jedi OC - Orr'Sinda Perth)

Call the Twi'Lek Midwife* by @ficsnooneaskedfor (OCs - Citali, Melita, Izel)

The Clone Wars Gets a New Victim by @thechaoticfanartist (Jedi OC - Grim)

The Duty of a Captain by @pro-fangirls-unsocial-life (Clone OC - Doc)

✨From Where We Stand* by @djarrex (OC - Ahri)

✨ Halo* by @rowansparrow (Nautolan OC - Quill, Human OCs Athena and Kiran, Garbak (Original Species) OC - Ju'Lah, Clone OC Rose/Gol'Chek.)

✨ The Hunt* by @moonstrider9904 (OC - Rose)

Illicit Affairs by @book-of-baba-fett (Jedi OC - Talia Riva, Clone OC - Captain Storm)

Insatiable* (Game of Thrones series) by @starwarslove16

Moonwalker* by @moonstrider9904 (OC- Sarah Adhara)

Not Saying Much by @clydesducktape (OC - Sola Korraay-Gideon)

One Step at a Time by @wild-karrde (Clone OC - Chuckles, Twi'lek OC - Arni, Pantoran OC - Nita)

Paradigm Shift (The Bad Batch/Expanse crossover) by @eyecandyeoz (OC - Emilia Chatham)

Pieces by @teletraan-meets-jarvis (OC - Issa Straun)

A Prince of Dathomir* by @kimageddon (Nightsister OC Zaiya Valessa, Mandalorian OC - Adaji Treshan)

✨Starlit Murder by @thebitchformerlyknownaskenobi (Pantoran OC - Kau'ra)

Stars in Their Multitudes by @jedi-valjean (Multiple OCs, feat - Com Narcom, Koss, Aberon Halmath, Kaltha, Tarkay, Leela, Korma, Sister Risuno, Unal Munir, Broque.)

Sins of the Father by @kimageddon

Artwork:

✨82nd Darkwatch Platoon by @zoruui

Ailani Réillata by @queen-breha-organa: Ailani in the Beach Dress by @gimmeyoursnacks Ailani Sketches by @maybe-murphy Ailani at Sunset by @d3epfriedangels ✨

✨Amaya by @amikoroyaiart

✨Cala by @thefact0rygirl, art by @maygalodon

✨Cherise by @cyarbika, headshot by @calamity-aims, art by @maulpunk

Captain Storm by @book-of-baba-fett, art by @elledjarin

✨Chad by @milfreva (there is literally so much Chad art and I love it all)

Dara Idella by @spacerocksarethebestrocks

✨Eya by @galacticgraffiti, art by @pinkiemme, art by @sar-arts

✨Kau'ra by @thebitchformerlyknownaskenobi, Starlit Murder fanart by @kimageddon

Lena Orim by @ilikemymendarkandfictional, art by @rebekahs-art

✨Locks and Urudyk by @cyareclones

Mari Gildow by @penguinkiwi

Omura Vane by @certified-anakinfucker

✨Priya Gayiyla by @djarrex, with Papa Rex by @howie-ner-cyare

Quill Cawthon by @rowansparrow, art by @space-b33

Sola Koraay-Gideon by @clydesducktape, moodboard for Not Saying Much by @princessxkenobi

Talia Riva by @book-of-baba-fett, character concept art by @deliahscrush2003 art by @elledjarin, by @deliahscrush2003, art by @space-b33

Creator Spotlight:

This section is for some OC creators in general - folks who share OC appreciation/have too many cool OCs to list them all here.

@ailani-reillata

@arrthurpendragon

@cyareclones

@circadianx

@darth-caillic

@deliahscrush2003

@eyecandyeoz

@findswoman

@justalittletomato

@just-some-girl-92

@kimageddon

@kote-wan

@milfreva

@moonstrider9904

@night-watch-trespass

@purgetrooperfox - Leo deactivated but I got so many shoutouts for their OCs and couldn't link anything but still needed to shout them out.

@rowansparrow

@wild-karrde

#oc appreciation #star wars #star wars oc #jedi oc #original character #digital art #oc artwork #oc fanfiction #creator spotlight

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little-engineer-who-cant · 2 years ago

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Ao3 Master List

Running master list of my Ao3 fics that are currently posted.

Never In My Wildest Dreams (Bridgerton) - Following the scandal of her aborted wedding to Anthony Bridgerton, Edwina Sharma wants to have a quiet Season. The world has different plans for her.

look into the eyes of damnation and bare your teeth (Skyrim) - The adventures of Alla Stoneshield in Skyrim, featuring custom followers.

Act I: Into the Breach

Act II: Rising Until Our Souls Shatter in the Sky

Act III: Call Your Rage Peace

Wolf's Den (Skyrim) - Farkas runs afoul of a Vigilant of Stendarr and stumbles upon a cottage in the woods. Gwendolyn is trying to scrape out a living in the Rift, then a dying werewolf collapses outside of her door.

sirens scream names forgotten by tomorrow, laid to rest in infinity (Batman / Percy Jackson and the Olympians) - Follows Jason Todd and Silena Beauregard in Gotham City.

Under the Red Hood Lies Jason Todd’s Shattered Dreams

Our First Date was a Walk in the Park

There’s a Waystation in Gotham

The Water Under the Bridge to Elysium is Still the River Styx

Orpheus, Don’t Turn Around (i know you will, you always do)

Screaming Past the Limit, Never to Slow Down Again

I Needed a Shovel to Love You (and now i’m digging up your grave)

Fallen Angels Holding onto Demon Collars

The Garden of Eden, Built in Sunwarm Sheets

Screaming to Delphi for Salvation

Robins' Nest

Fighting for the Light You Drowned Long Ago - Part 1 of Injustice

Are You Coming to the (Hanging) Tree? (Black Sails) - One shot Canon Divergence where Abigail Ashe joins the pirates and Charles Vane teaches her how to survive them.

You’re the Torch I’ll Use to Burn this World Down (Black Sails) - Pre-canon Black Sails AU featuring a chance meeting between Charles Vane and Miranda Barlow. What if they talk? Written for the Built On Sand Creative Event.

Dead Doesn't Mean Gone (Resident Evil) - A short rumination on Leon Kennedy's infection post-Resident Evil 4.

Down Into the Sea and Back Out Again (Resident Evil) - Piers Nivans survives Lanshiang. An ongoing collections of vignettes about the consequences.

Duty-Bound for Hell, So We Make this World Our Heaven (Game of Thrones / House of the Dragon) - Dreamsharing AU featuring Myrcella Baratheon and Aemond Targaryen.

What If I Knew Of You? (Black Sails / Pirates of the Caribbean) - PoTC and Black Sails crossover where James Norrington ruminates on Captain Flint.

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mylesimeblr · 2 years ago

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I'm already 12 pages into that Game of Thrones Byler crossover. I wanted to write it "M rated" and I tried to write "mild dialogues" and in the end I'm already going full Tyrion Lannister mode. I had this "reader" yesterday who told me that there was something deeply wrong with me. And yeah, maybe there is. But fuck, I like that.

Sometimes, Mike stayed far into the night, after all the other clients had either gone home or paid the services of a slave. There were times Will went off with clients too and Mike’s heart grew heavy with pain, especially when Will was followed by several soldiers. There were times, Will stayed, cleaning the tables as Mike finished his pinte, just the two of them. Steve was never far but when it was so late, he had duties of his own that called him away.

“You’re from Dorne, right?” Mike asked, watching the slave wipe ale stains from the wood.

“I was born in a village near Sunspear, yes,” Will answered and it was strange talking to him without games.

“Do you remember it?”

Will shook his head, “Not much. I was sold by my father when I was nine so I was pretty young when I came here.”

Mike nodded, “I was sold too. General Tarly saw me at the Market and took me to work for the Lannister army as a stable boy.”

Will stopped wiping his table and gave him a small knowing smile, “I was found at the Market too. Lord Baelish saw me and bought me to bring me here.”

Mike swallowed. They didn’t say it but they knew. It all came to meeting one person, one day. Had they met the other one, on another day, they could have been each other’s substitute. His brain suddenly conveyed the image of the boys carried around in the cart leading to the King’s Landing slave market that day, all those years ago. Through the fog of memory, he saw a young boy with caramel skin and big green eyes, sitting across the bench, hands tied and his heart grew heavy again. What were the odds, indeed.

“Where were you from, before King’s Landing?” Will suddenly asked, taking the image of small Will away.

Mike blinked, confused, “I don’t remember.”

#byler #mylesime fics #byler fanfic #game of thrones

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koorinohebi · 2 years ago

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Revamped Tags

So I remade my long-ass list of tags. They are under the cut because long. Anyway, I'm also going to remake my current shipping tags because I think they need to be revamped as well. So if you want a ship tag with Kiomi or any of the muses of this blog, feel free to like this post. Only requirement is that our muses have interacted.

=== Mun Tags ===

Beyond the Bounded Field || OOC Craft Essence || Commissioned Piece Limelight || Commission Drawing Board || My Art

=== General Purpose Tags ===

⩤ Throne of Heroes ⩥ Gallery ⩤ Unprompted ⩥ ⩤ Starter ⩥ ⩤ The Meme ⩥ ⩤ HQ Report : Dash Comm ⩥ ⩤ Simulation Room : Dash Games ⩥ ⩤ The Grind : Memes and Games ⩥ ⩤ Order Restored : Answered ⩥ ⩤ Dailies : Anon ⩥ ⩤ Attention : PSA ⩥ ⩤ Mystic eyes of .Crack. Perception ⩥ ⩤ tw : ⩥ ⩤ Inbox Call ⩥ ⩤ Preparing to Rayshift : Queue ⩥ ⩤ Take my Hand : Wishlist ⩥ ⩤ Drums of War : Music ⩥ ⩤ War Council : P . R . O . M . O. ⩥ ⩤ Loyalties : P.r.o.m.o ⩥ ⩤ Stashed ⩥ ⩥ Cont'd from x

=== Muse Tags ===

⩤ Blog Shenanigans ⩥ ⩤ Muse Commentaries ⩥ ⩤ Visage ⩥ ⩤ Saint Graph : Headcanons ⩥ ⩤ Battle Records : Aesthetics ⩥ ⩤ To each their own reveries : Musings ⩥ ⩤ Chaldea Lunchtime : Conversations ⩥ ⩤ Interlude : Drabbles ⩥

⩤ To each their own devices : Kiomi ⩥ ⩤ To each their own devices : Kamo Serizawa ⩥ ⩤ To each their own devices : Mitsuhide Akechi ⩥ ⩤ To each their own devices : Takechi Zuizan ⩥ ⩤ To each their own devices : Tanaka Shinbei ⩥ ⩤ To each their own devices : Chen Gong ⩥ ⩤ To each their own devices : Okuni ⩥ ⩤ To each their own devices : Lanlan Fang ⩥ ⩤ To each their own devices : Major Magatsu ⩥ ⩤ To each their own devices : Major Reiter ⩥ ⩤ Echoes : Guest Muse ⩥

=== Verse Tags ===

⩤ Singularities : Main ⩥ ⩤ Remnants : AU ⩥ ⩤ Event Horizon : Crossovers ⩥

=== Friend Tags (Ever growing) ===

Arai-chan ⩤ Sarutobi Arai : Sister-in-Arms ⩥

Assortedsnacks ⩤ Touken Danshi : Kikkou Sadamune ⩥

Aurivore ⩤ Gilgamesh : Majesty Defined ⩥ ⩤ Kogil : Decadent Exuberance ⩥

Caemthe ⩤ Demon King of the Sixth Heaven : Oda Nobunaga ⩥

Gemsofchaldea ⩤ Jack : A Child Beloved ⩥ ⩤ Da Vinci-Chan : The Universal Beauty ⩥

Getsuruito ⩤ Momochi Tanba : The Great Ninja Master ⩥ ⩤ Pang Tong : The Fledgling Phoenix ⩥

Historias-Multorum ⩤ Hinata Hyuuga : Delicate Breeze ⩥ ⩤ Tsunade : Densetsu no Hime ⩥ ⩤ Izuna ⩥ ⩤ Shizune ⩥

Homeport ⩤ Sakamoto Ryouma : The Miracle Worker ⩥ ⩤ The Evil Mastermind : Takasugi Shinsaku ⩥ ⩤ Hizen Tadahiro : The Sharpest Edge ⩥

Kiicho ⩤ Kicho : Enchanting Pearl of Mino ⩥ ⩤ Nohime : Ties Severed ⩥ (Mitsuhide)

Lovedloyalty ⩤ A Saber Among Shadows : Okada Izo ⩥ ⩤ Alter Ego : Okada Izo ⩥ ⩤ Mori Nagayoshi : Blood Soaked Loyalty ⩥ ⩤ Beowulf : The Grendel Buster ⩥ ⩤ Leonidas : The King of Sparta ⩥ ⩤ Phantom : Angel of Music ⩥ ⩤ Shuichi : Spiral Bound ⩥ ⩤ Mephistopheles : Deals with the Devil ⩥

⩤ Hitokiri Izo : Hound of the Kinnoto ⩥ (Tosa) ⩤ Okada Izo : The Ghost of Tosa ⩥ (Redline) ⩤ Mori Nagayoshi : Demon of the Battlefield ⩥ (Blog Servants, Redline) ⩤ Old Man Li : Old and Strong ⩥ (Blog Servants, Redline)

Moonlightmagus ⩤ Yuuki : Friends Forever ⩥ ⩤ Na'amah : A Demon Dancing through Emotions ⩥

Mysticallities ⩤ Tristan : A vicious fairy knight ⩥ ⩤ Strange Amalgamation : Rintsuka ⩥ ⩤ Liber : The Ancient Arbitrator ⩥

Nobuverse ⩤ Chacha : A Radiance of Warmth ⩥ ⩤ Nobunaga Oda : The Avenging Fool of Owari ⩥ ⩤ Summer Nobunaga : Blazing Rockstar! ⩥ ⩤ Nagao Kagetora : The Dragon of Echigo ⩥ ⩤ Lancer Class : Mei Fan ⩥

⩤ Nobunaga Oda : Enemy at Honnouji ⩥ (Mitsuhide)

Nulltune ⩤ Hakuno : Shards of Moonlight ⩥

Madamhatter ⩤ Sophie : A Dutiful Heart ⩥

Soulsbetrayed ⩤ Avenger Class : Izou the Manslayer ⩥ ⩤ Touken Danshi : Tensho Koshirae ⩥ ⩤ Hosokawa Gracia : Beloved ⩥

Spookums ⩤ Witching Hour : Gabriella ⩥

Summoned-Anima ⩤ Ashiya Douman : The Humble Priest? ⩥

Super-Kame-Love ⩤ Aina Kichida : The Turtle Sage ⩥

Tenkoseiensei ⩤ Assassin Class : Yan Qing the Wingman ⩥

#Beyond the Bounded Field || OOC

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marshallfluffrandomimagines · 5 years ago

Text

Masterlist

Imagines:

A Knight’s Tale:

Count Adhemar:

Not as bad as you seem

No Pairings:

Being Will’s best friend and Adhemar insults you

Will Thatcher:

Idiots in Loves

Assassins Creed:

La Volpe:

Ezio winds up La Volpe

You’re in trouble

Big Hero 6:

Crossovers with Doctor Who:

Baymax travelling with 10

Deflated Baymax and 9

Braveheart:

Stephen:

Hamish’s little sister

Buffy The Vampire Slayer:

All the Scoobies:

Getting Drunk

Giles:

Scaring Giles

No Pairing:

Spike’s Best Friend

Spike:

Little Marshmallows

Call of Duty:

No pairing:

TF141 Sniper

Criminal Minds:

Hotch:

Call of Duty

Stressful Day

Doctor Who:

9th Doctor:

Wedding Date

Hugs

10th Doctor:

Seeing you in a dress

12th Doctor:

Irish vs Scottish

Jealousy

Big Hero 6 Crossover:

Travelling with 10

Deflated Baymax with 9

Thick of It Crossover:

Jaime and 12

Downton Abbey:

Lord Grantham:

At Ease

Dragon Age:

Sebastian Vael:

To the rescue

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them:

Newt Scamander:

Meeting Newt

Percival Graves:

Being Percival’s friend and Grindelwald’s niece

Firefly:

Jayne Cobb:

Talk to Me

Game of Thrones:

Beric Dondarrion:

Protecting You

Bronn of the Blackwater:

Chivalry

Daario Naharis:

Since Childhood

Protecting You

Daenerys Stormborn:

Bad Day

Jaime Lannister:

Captured by Robb

Smile

Jaqen H’ghara:

Can’t Let Go

Jon Snow:

Answering the Call

Ghost Listens

King’s Landing Attack

Jorah Mormont:

Protection

The Fighting Pits

Jory Cassel:

Lannister Guards

Lord of the Rings Crossover:

Aragorn threatens Joffrey

Aragorn fights Jaime

Eomer and Jaqen

Ned and Aragorn are friends

No Pairing:

Fishing with Tywin

Loras comes out to you

Loras defends your honour

Making Barristan and Jorah laugh

Ned’s sister

Protective Barristan

Robb’s gift

Robb’s younger sister

Tyrion’s drinking buddy

Your own direwolf

Oberyn Martell:

Defending your honour

Rickon Stark:

In Time

Robb Stark:

Being a Targaryen

Roose Bolton:

Speechless

Tywin Lannister:

Drunk Tywin

Soft Side

Grey’s Anatomy:

Mark Sloan:

Flirting fail

Harry Potter:

Alastair Moody:

Faces

Draco Malfoy:

Nice

See you again

George Weasley:

The Ball

Harry Potter:

Pumpkin Juice

Hermione Granger:

The Ball

James Potter:

Your Birthday

Minerva McGonagall:

Bludger

Pranks with Peeves

No Pairing:

Being a Slytherin

Dumbledore wins the bet

Dumbledore’s got style

New Years

Pranking the Marauders

Remus gives up on you and Sirius

Remus is a little shit

Reuniting with Sirius and Remus

Sirius loses a bet to McGonagall

The Marauders protecting you

Oliver Wood:

Shy

Remus Lupin:

Chocolate

Getting sassy with Sirius

Marauder’s Map

Stealing his chocolate

Sirius Black:

Confession

Pleading

Stealing your tea

Studying

Severus Snape:

Covering for you

Tom Marvolo Riddle:

Attack on Hogwarts

House MD:

Greg House:

In Love

No Pairing:

Being a Duckling

Break up, Cheer up

Wilson’s daughter

Justified:

Boyd Crowder:

Trust Me

Crush

Raylan Givens:

A date

Les Miserables:

Javert:

Ten Years

Laughing

Lord of the Rings:

Aragorn:

Rohan

Eomer:

Dance

Game of Thrones Crossover:

Aragorn threatens Joffrey

Aragorn fights Jaime

Eomer and Jaqen

Ned and Aragorn are friends

Legolas:

First thing

No Pairing:

Lucifer:

Lucifer Morningstar:

Guard of Hell

Magnificent Seven:

Goodnight Robicheaux:

First time in 5 years

Marvel:

Clint Barton:

Last Arrow

No Pairing:

Steve instantly likes you but..

Taking sides in the Civil War

Pietro Maximoff:

Healing

Tony Stark:

Jealous

The Gala

Merlin:

Gwaine:

Tavern Brawl

No Pairing:

Merlin’s best friend

Midsomer Murders:

Ben Jones:

Showing off

No Pairing:

My Original Stories:

Gods of the Guardians:

Information about the Gods

Cetia:

Welcoming you home

Ecses:

Dragon Riding

Hirnas:

Loyalty

Iborh:

I Know

Kiro:

Meeting Kiro

Laoch:

King of the Gods

Lierr:

Anger

Martuc:

A Friend

Orion:

God of Love in love

Pydite:

Sarcasm

Rimos:

Earned

Sirius:

Shy

Tumenar:

Showing off

Outlander:

Dougal MacKenzie:

Listens to you

Phantom of the Opera:

Erik Destler:

Dancing with a Phantom

No Pairing:

Red Dead Redemption:

Arthur Morgan:

Saving you

No Pairing:

Rookie Blue:

Nick Collins:

Andy’s best friend

No Pairing:

Oliver’s partner

Sharpe:

Arthur Wellesley:

Arthur finds out

Ben Perkins:

Daniel Hagman:

No Pairing:

Meeting Wellesley

Sharpe’s best friend

Patrick Harper:

Sharpe’s sibling

Richard Sharpe:

Sherlock:

Greg Lestrade:

A dress

Confessions

Press Conference

No Pairing:

A Holmes’ cousin

Studying

Sherlock Holmes:

Buckingham

The scarf

Sons of Anarchy:

Chibs Telford:

David Hale’s friend

No Pairing:

Chibs and Tig are children

Tig Trager:

Trouble

Spartacus:

Smiling

No Pairing:

Star Trek:

No Pairing:

Picard hears a good idea

Star Wars:

Lando Calrissian:

Han’s younger sibling

Suits:

Crossover:

Neal Caffrey’s sibling

Supernatural:

Balthazar:

Shower

Your Wings

Castiel:

Meeting

Gabriel:

Act Natural

Assumptions

Doctor

Wings

Lucifer:

Shy

No Pairing:

Balthazar’s friend

Teen Wolf:

Bobby Finstock:

Crush

Chris Argent:

Recovering

Derek Hale:

Derek’s crush

Protection

Deucalion:

For You

Hospital Visit

Isaac Lahey:

Anchor

Date

Return to Beacon Hills

No Pairing:

Free Period

Theo thinks you’re useless

Theo thinks you’re useless part 2

The wild hunt

Trust

Peter Hale:

Blue eyes

Favourite song

Pain

Stiles finds out

Stiles Stilinski:

Hugs

Nogitsune is worried

The Dollars Trilogy (Western):

Colonel Douglas Mortimer (For a Few Dollars More):

Startling

Joe (A Fistful of Dollars):

Trying to impress

The Flash:

Earth 2 Harrison Wells:

Like a fungus

No Pairing:

Noping out of the situation

The Hobbit:

Bard:

Teaching

Bofur:

Singing with Bofur

Dwalin:

Bilbo’s sister

No Pairing:

Thorin and Dwalin make an agreement

Thranduil:

First Sight

The Hunger Games:

Haymitch Abernathy:

The Peacekeepers

The Thick of It:

Crossover with Doctor Who:

Jaime travels with 12

Jaime McDonald:

Jaime acting odd

Malcolm Tucker:

Cake

Soft Spot

No Pairing:

Teasing the boyfriend

Teasing Malcolm

The Walking Dead:

Daryl Dixon:

Saving You

Shane Walsh:

Pulled over

Twilight:

Emmett Cullen:

Self-defense

Garrett:

Redcoats

Jacob Black:

Alpha

No Pairing:

White Collar:

Crossover:

Neal Caffrey’s sibling

Drabbles:

Prompts:

Feel free to pick from these prompts if you’d like any drabbles and to give me a pairing

Romantic Prompts 1

155 notes · View notes

fanpom-imagines · 4 years ago

Text

Masterlist

DCEU (also comics)

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them

Kingsman

Knives Out (2019)

Lord of The Rings Trilogy

MCU (Including: Deadpool, Spiderman: Into the Spiderverse & X-Men included)

Now You See Me

Star Trek (Reboots)

Star Wars (Including Rogue One and Han Solo Movie)

The Hobbit Trilogy

The Man from U.N.C.L.E. (2015)

American Gods

Band of Brothers (2002)

Bates Motel

BBC Sherlock

Chilling Adventures of Sabrina

Doctor Who

DC Comics (Young Justice, Animations, Titans & Doom Patrol, Arrow, The Flash, DC’s Legends of Tomorrow, also comics)

Elite

Game of Thrones

Generation Kill (2008)

Hollywood (2020)

MCU (Daredevil, Jessica Jones, Luke Cage, Iron Fist & Punisher)

My Babysitters a Vampire

NBC Hannibal

Peaky Blinders

Stranger Things

Supernatural

Teen Wolf

The Pacific (2010)

The Witcher

Turn: Washington’s Spies

Umbrella Academy

Assassin’s Creed (1, Ezio Trilogy, 3, Black Flag, Unity, & Syndicate)

Batman Arkham Series

BioShock Series

Call of Duty (MW, MW2, BO 2, Ghosts, WWII, & Infinite Warfare)

Detroit: Become Human

Dragon Age Series

Fallout (3, 4, & New Vegas)

Far Cry (5)

Mass Effect Series

Outer Worlds

Red Dead Redemption 2

The Elder Scrolls (Oblivion & Skyrim)

The Witcher 2 & 3

Red vs Blue

I will do smuts and crossovers.

I will NOT do things related to rape, self-harm, underages sexual activity and things related to these topics (message me if you have questions about it).

Just understand that I’m not comfortable with some topics and others aren’t as well.

Also just because I have done imagines for a fandom it does not mean I do them anymore.

I also don’t do real people just the characters or people actors may portray.

And last, but not least the gifs I post are never mine I just find them on google images.

#masterlist #fandoms

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saelwen · 5 years ago

Text

The Last Dragon

Daenys Targaryen x Thranduil

Crossover: Game of Thrones and LOTR/Hobbit

Chapter12

Masterlist

Summary:After Daenerys death, her daughter Daenys, flew away with Drogon. Feeling lost with out her mother beside her, but what will happen when Daenys find a portal that will lead her to a certain world, where dwell elves, dwarves, humans and other races.

Warnigs: a bit of angst

Words: 2,377

It’s have been a month since I had arrived to Rivendell. The city was beautiful, with her large waterfall and gorgeous flowers, that made the air smell flowery and fresh. The elves here were more kind and patients than in Mirkwood, letting Drogon fly free in the city and pet him like he was a dog. They said that with Drogon here, they feel safer, after hearing of what me and him did to smaug and to the army of gundabad orcs.

A sigh fell from my lips, sitting comfortably on my balcony. I smile as I see Drogon fly by, making the elflings follow him and giggling when he let out a small roar. He’s really happy here...

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a soft knock on my door, “Come in!” I say, putting the book that I had on my lap, on the little table in front of me.

The door open and I saw a golden hairy head peeking. A giggle escape from me and roll my eyes “Come in, Glorfindel!” I hear him chuckle and closing the door. He walks to me and picks my hand, giving a soft kiss “You look lovely, Mellon nin!” he says with a warm voice, I roll my eyes and invite him to sit with me “What’s bring you here, Balrog slayer?” I ask him with a smirk.

The children of Lord Elrond have told me the tales of Glorfindel, that he’s from the first age, that came from the blessed lands to Middle-Earth with the Noldor elves and how he died protecting his people against a Balrog.

I must say that I was shocked when I found out how old he is. Glorfindel had been through so much and yet he still smiles and laughs like a summer child, bringing happiness to everyone around him.

He looks to the sky “I’ve come to see how you doing...and to ask you for a walk in the woods? I know a spot really beautiful beside the waterfall!” the enthusiasm in his voice and the sparkles in his eyes made me laugh a little. Oh Gods! He looks like a child...So Adorable.

I nod and look to the beautiful view in front of me “I would love too!” I said with a giggle. Glorfindel stood up and offer me his hand “Then let’s go, My Lady! Before the sun go down.” I grab his hand and let him lead me out of my chambers to the woods.

When we arrive to the spot, my eyes widened as I saw the view from the waterfalls. It was stunning! I could see all the city from here, seeing little black dots that was the elves walking around, doing they duties.

I turn to Glorfindel with a huge smile “It’s incredible!” I say in awe, he chuckles and sit down on the warm grass “I knew it that you would like it. Come! Sit with me.” I do as he says and sit beside him, feeling the warm light touch my skin and hearing the sound of the water falling down.

Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes. Letting my body and soul melt into the nature around me. I could stay a thousand years here...

After a while of begin in comfort silence, Glorfindel lets out a little cough “I come here to clear my mind...to escape from the horrors of middle-earth.” he says quietly. I look to him, letting him talk “Since the Valar had send me again to middle-earth, my heart has been empty...remembering all the wars, the death that i saw...and the friends that i lost.” he took a deep breath and look to the view in front of us “I thought that i shouldn't be here...that i failed to protect my best friend...but they grant me a second change, to guide and protect the last of the Noldor.” I saw a small tear falling down his soft cheek.

I pull his hand to my lap and gave a little squeeze, trying to comfort him. He looks down to me and smiled warmly to me “Just remember that maybe the gods had grant you also a second change too...Here you could live a new life...maybe form a family, expanding your House.” I look down, with frown on my face. Maybe he’s right...This is my second change to live a normal life.

We stay there the rest of the day, in a comfort silence, admiring the view and the nature around us. And as the sun was going down, we hear the sound of hooves running towards us.

Glorfindel jump in front of me, grabbing his sword but he relaxes as we see that was only Lindir “What are you doing here, Lindir?” he asks confused, putting his sword back on his waist “Lady Daenys! My Lord Elrond asks for to come to his office!” Weird...

I nod and mounted on his horse, riding fast to Rivendell.

~~~~~~~~

I knock softly on the wood door, “Come in” Elrond say with a firm voice. Walking in, I saw him sitting behind his desk, who greets me warmly, but a shadow in the corner of my eye grabbed my attention.

I turn my head and saw Gandalf standing near the fireplace, smoking his pipe “Gandalf!” I say a while jumping to his arms. How I missed him!

He starts laughing and kiss my forehead “I see that are liking the elves. Before you were in Mirkwood and now in Rvendell, next you have to visit Lothlorien!” he says with a chuckle. Hmm...it would be nice to go to Lothlorien.

I look to Elrond “If I may, why did you ask for me that has seems so urgent?” I ask a while sitting on the chair beside the fire. He stood up from his desk and walk to us “There something that you need to know, Daenys...Gandalf if you mind?” he says a while motion to Gandalf move forward.

Gandalf sit in the chair beside me and pull a bag, posing in front of me “Well...a few months ago, I was on my way to the Shire, visiting master Baggins. When I pass by the place that I’ve found you, a bright light shows up there...I stop the wagon and run there.” he looks down to the bag with a serious look. What’s in that bag? I begin feeling weird, like something in that bag was calling for me “When the light went out, three strange eggs stood there in the grass.” with that he opens the bag and a gasp escape from my lips. It’s not possible!

Inside the bag was three small dragon eggs, two of them were orange and one was all black. I pick one egg, “How is this possible? There shouldn't be more dragon eggs!” I whisper to myself, Gandalf and Elrond look to each other, “Are those dragon eggs from your world?” Elrond asks me with a serious voice.

A small tear falls down my cheek, I nod to them and pull the rest of the eggs out of the bag, putting them on my lap. There is still hope...I could build the House Targaryen here! A new life as Glorfindel said.

Gandalf put his hand on mine and looks to with a serious face “Daenys!...Do you know to hatch them?” I nod and smile “Yes!...But I need time. If you mind, I will return to my chambers. I need to think.” they nod and gave me a little bow.

I stood up and walk out of the room, remembering the tales that my mother told about how she hatches her dragons. I need a life to exchange...

(Gandalf P.O.V)

I stay there, watching Daenys leaving the room with her dragon eggs “Do you think is wise to let her hatch those eggs?” Elrond whisper to me as Daenys leaves the room. I look up to him and nod “For what the Valar have told me....there will be a new enemy coming. We will need all the help we can have.” he looks to me in confuse “A new enemy?” he asks.

Standing up from my chair, I took my staff and walk to the door “It’s late, Lord Elrond! Tomorrow we will talk.” with that I walk out of the room, leaving behind a confuse Elrond. It’s better than he doesn’t know...

(Daenys P.O.V)

Three months had pass and my bond with the dragon's eggs grew more. Where I will find a life to sacrifice? I just can’t burn an innocent people!

A sigh fell from my lips, I rub the tip of my fingers on my eyes. What do I do?

Suddenly my thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a horn, I stood up from my bed and walk to my balcony. I saw a group of warriors walking through the principal gate of the city but what caught my attention was the orc that they got with them. And there is my sacrifice...

I turn back and run out of the room, to where they taking the orc. I hope this work.

When I was near the throne room, I could hear Elrond voice “Why are you in my land, you filthy?!” I walk closer and saw the orc on his knees with two guards on his side, with they daggers on his neck.

The orc starts laughing like a mad man, “I will not say nothing to you, elf scum!” he says with venom in his words.

Elrond frown and nod to the guards to kill the orc, I jump to the middle of the room “WAIT!” my voice sounded around the room. Elrond look to me confused “Why are you here, Daenys?” I walk to him, looking down to the orc with a disgust look “I need his life!” now Elrond was more confuse “His life? What are talking about?” I look to his eyes “I need a life to hatch my dragon eggs...and he’s perfect.” I say with a serious voice.

Elrond eyes widened and look to the orc and then to the guards “Put him in the dungeons!” they nod and drag the orc out of the throne room.

Elrond went to me and put his hand on my shoulder “Are you sure about this?” I nod “Tonight in the clearing on the garden, bring the orc there...Be sure that Gandalf and Glorfindel be there too!” with that I walk to my chambers, to get ready for the birth of my dragons.

~~~~Time- skip~~~~

I stand in front of wood structure, that had my dragon's eggs there. Drogon was beside them, curling is body around the structure.

Gandalf, Glorfindel and Elrond stood behind me with the orc, who was shouting curses. I look to them and smile a little “Attach him to the structure.” Glorfindel nods and drag the orc to the wood pole. Gandalf walk to me “Are you sure this is the way?” he asks worried.

I grab his warm hand and rub my thumb on his skin “Yes, I'm sure...Don’t worry.” he nods and give me a kiss on my cheek, whispering “Be careful.” and then he goes to stand beside Elrond and Glorfindel.

Taking a deep breath, I look to the dark sky, watching the stars shining bright. This is it, Daenys!

I move my gaze to Drogon “Dracarys!” with that he blows his fire to the wood structure, making the orc scream in pain and pleading to stop. I close my eyes and took a step forward. Rise my children...

(Thranduil P.O.V)

I stop my elf as I and my guards arrive to Rivendell, I didn’t inform Elrond of my visit but I think he won’t be mad.

Dismounting, I saw Lindir walking towards us “King Thranduil! I didn’t know that you would come to Rivendell!” he says with panic voice. I shake my head “Don’t worry, Lindir! I didn't inform Lord Elrond. Where is he?” I ask him.

I notice Lindir face go pale and he move his eyes to the floor “Ahh..My Lord is in a meeting right now!” What? Strange...a meeting at this hour?

Suddenly we hear a huge roar and the smell of fire, I look to my side and saw huge flames that was coming from the garden “What?!” I say in panic and confused. Then my eyes wide, Daenys...

With that I start running to where the flames were, “King Thranduil!” I hear Lindir try to force to stay there.

As I arrive to the place, I notice Gandalf, Glorfindel and Elrond standing there doing nothing, but as I turn my head to the fire, I see Daenys walking into the flames. What’s going on here?! I run to them “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! WE NEED TO HELP HER!” I scream to them but when I was about to jump into fire and grab Daenys, Glorfindel and Elrond grab me by the arms and pull me back “DAENYS! DAENYS, GET OUT!!” my voice sounded around the garden, full of pain and panic.

I notice her turning her head to me and smile. No, no, no....i can’t lose another person that I love!

Gandalf put his hand on my shoulder “Calm down, Thranduil! This is part of her ritual...she is okay.” What ritual? And how she is going to be fine?! SHE IS FUCKING BURNING!!

We stay there for hours, watching the flames burn bright in the night. Tears were running down on my cheeks. I lose her...

I hear a gasp from Glorfindel, I look up and saw a figure standing in the middle of the fire that was dying out.

My eyes widened as I saw Daenys standing there, unharmed and naked by the fire. How is this possible?!

On her left nipple was an orange baby dragon sucking the milk out, a while the other orange one was in her hand and the black one was in her shoulder, purring and pushing his little head against hers.

“She did it...” I heard Elrond whispering, my mouth was hanging open. The fire didn’t kill her...How’s that possible?!

Hey Guys!!! New chapter here and oh boy Thranduil had a heart attack. Hope you enjoy it and feel free to comment and tell me what you think!!

Also I will need help to name the three new baby dragons 🥰🥰 Send to my inbox! --» Here😋

XOXO

REQUESTS OPEN

Taglist: @foggyturtleknightangel @moonchild-stuff @damniitjim @demonquartz @crazyonesarethebest @gwendelerynan @llama2264 @tigereyesf @yes-captainstark @icarus-fell-in-spring @burningcoffeetimetravel @nikipuppeteer @numwoon44 @decemberflurries @lespaceboi @weehawkendawngunsdrawnyouron @horsesandwolvesaremyanimals @lasswarrior

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riverdalerandomness · 6 years ago

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This looked fun and I wanted to give it a go! Forgot to add the pic. >-< I’m tagging @pixeldistractions @retromaisie @sullivanrandomness @greeneyedsims and @starrsim

favorite game from the last 5 years? ‒ GTA 5. I’m still playing it and the online version, along with lspdfr (cop mod). So many hours of fun!

most nostalgic game? ‒ The Sims. I get so many feels when I play it.

game that deserves a sequel? ‒ Game of Thrones published by Telltale Games. Would love someone to do a awesome season 2.

game that deserves a remaster? ‒ GTA San Adreas, or basically all of them before GTA 4.

favorite game series? ‒ The Sims minus Sims 4 (that needs to be redone, period).

favorite genre? ‒ I guess action/adventure

least favorite genre? ‒ PvP - I think that’s why I dislike Fortnite so much!

favorite song from a game? ‒ I don’t really have one.

favorite character from a game? ‒ Trevor Philips. He’s mentally insane and just doesn’t give a crap about anything and anyone save is mom, and possibly Michael and Franklin.

favorite ship from a game? ‒ Batman and Catwoman from Telltales Batman.

favorite voice actor from a game? ‒ Dave Fennoy a.k.a. Lee Everett.

favorite cutscene? ‒ The end of GTA 5 if you pick Option C, and Michael, Trevor and Franklin are all standing on the bluffs, then M. and F. drive away leaving Trevor there alone. Love it!

favorite boss? ‒ Bowser Super Mario Brothers. I hated him. Took me forever to finally beat him.

first console? ‒ NES

current console or consoles? ‒ Just an Xbox One right now.

console you want? ‒ PS4 Pro

place from a game that you’d like to visit? ‒ Mexico, Shadow of the Tomb Raider.

place from a game that you’d like to live in? ‒ Does my created town of Riverdale in Sims 2 and Sims 3 count?

ridiculous crossover that would never happen but would be super fun? ‒ Clementine and Bayek from Assassin’s Creed Origins. In a different world I could see Clem becoming an assassin.

book that would make a good game? ‒ Odd Thomas by Dean Koontz.

show/movie that would make a good game? ‒ Containment. No zombies, just survival and a rush to find a cure.

games you want to play? ‒ AC: Odyssey, Fallout 76, Shadow of the Tomb Raider, Life is Strange 2, The Walking Dead, Green Hell, Red Dead Redemption 2, Call of Duty Black Ops 4. I think that’s it for right now.

have you gotten 100% completion in a game? ‒ Yup, I have my share.

have you cried over a game? ‒ Very few, but yes. It takes a lot to make me cry. So if/when I do, it has to be worth it.

what power-up or ability would you want in real life? ‒ To make money out of thin air. :p

#nonsims #just for fun

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yourgamecheats · 5 years ago

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'Call of Duty: Warzone' is a serious contender to Fortnite's throne

‘Call of Duty: Warzone’ is a serious contender to Fortnite’s throne

Despite being pretty late to the party, Epic Games’ Fortnite has become the battle royale title to beat. The cartoon-like survival shooter helped the company earn a reported $1.8 billion in 2019, thanks to a mix of slick gameplay, unique building mechanics and tons of big-budget crossovers to get players from every age group to part with their (or their parents’) cash.

But with popularity comes…

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#Engadget

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erenyuuta · 2 years ago

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Ice & Fire - Prologue

Series Masterlist

Next Chapter

Glossary & Character List (contains spoilers)

Pairing: Eren Jaeger X Yuuta Okkotsu

Genre: Fantasy AU, romance, smut, angst, fluff, a crossover between Attack On Titan and Jujutsu Kaisen, loosely based on Game of Thrones and Eragon

Series Summary: Yuuta Okkotsu, the kind-hearted firstborn prince of the kingdom of Nymeria, finds himself stranded on an island that had been thought to only exist in legend. It is there he meets the last of the Valyrians, a dragon-blood named Eren Jaeger. While their days on the island are happy, they can’t last forever. Yuuta has a duty as prince to his kingdom that he must fulfill, and it is this duty that ultimately tears them apart.

Content Warnings: BL/Yaoi, hybrids/monsters, magic/fantasy, infidelity, power imbalances, graphic depictions of violence and death, explicit sexual content (blow job, anal sex, rimming, cunnilingus, exhibitionism, monsterfucking, 69, cum-eating, spit play, deep-throating, double penetration, sadism, masochism, blood play/consumption, choking/asphyxiation kink, handjob, drunk sex, orgy), dub-con, non-con, virginity loss, drugs (alcohol), traumatic backstories, unrequited love, drowning, murder, suicide, yandere tropes, corruption arc, major character death

Written by Aleks from @erenergic/@princess-jaeger and Kana from @ficsforeren/@sundaysundaes

THE DEATH OF THE DRAGONS

Valyria, they called it. The Island of the Dragons.

The outsiders believed it was a myth. A legend. That the tale of the beasts who once ruled the world was simply a story parents invented to put their children to sleep. No one had ever seen a dragon soaring in the sky. No one had ever had shivers running down their spines at the sounds of their bellow. No one had ever felt the heat of the blue flames that seeped through the creature’s teeth. No one had ever witnessed the glorious tale of a Rider and their Dragon. How their power reigned over the world, providing peace and serenity to their people, and how their frozen fire and bloodied desire were the ones that consumed them too in the end. No one, except the Valyrians themselves. They remembered.

The Valyrians walked upon the ground that their ancestor, the mighty dragon Balerion, built from scratch with his blood and sweat. They stood on his bones, ones that were turned to dust, and they worshiped his name, the only thing that was left of him. But the dragon magic that once streamed under his skin was inherited by every Valyrian that was born into the world. It took the shape of the delicate iridescent scales that veneered their human skin, the two jagged horns that were perched upon their heads, a tail strong enough to smother the air out of a man’s lungs, and a string of marbled teeth made of knives.

They resembled the appearance of the devils that crawled their way out from the underworld, but the Gods were merciful enough to grant them the ability to conceal every part of them that was inhuman. Once a Valyrian was old enough–strong enough–to have control over their magic, they could embrace their human parts better. They could turn their scales transparent and hide their beauty from the world. They could use their magic like an invisible veil, cloaking their horns and tail. They could appear human. They could live like humans.

But even so, the Valyrians no longer possessed the thirst for knowledge their ancestors did. They weren’t as courageous, as fearless, and as greedy as they were. Even with blue flames dancing on their palms, they never used it to enslave other races. They were content with what their island had given them.

The outsiders, those who lived on the other side of the sea, had never seen a dragon’s wrath, only stories of it. Their incognizance could make them reckless and foolish. It could make them dangerous. Their curiosity could threaten the life of every Valyrian, fight their loyal husbands, and harm innocent children and their loving mothers. It was in their nature for humans to judge others by their appearance, and when their opponents embodied the look of a monster, it was only right for them to raise their weapons against them.

The Valyrians could tyrannize over the outsiders if they wanted to. They had the power to do so but chose not to. Yet that was not enough to convince a stranger, especially those who were already shrouded with fear. The dragon hybrids chose to avoid conflict and live a peaceful life, staying deep in the serenity the island provided them. They chose not to step outside and travel the world, no matter how beautiful they may seem, as they believed that the only living beings who thrived on the other end of the sea were monsters.

Legends are meant to be stories, their tall tales a source of wisdom and a tool for learning. But when a child believes these legends enough to stop questioning their authenticity, they become a threat to the world around them.

A bright Valyrian boy, defiant in his nature, was so consumed by his curiosity that it made him foolish. Armin was the name his father gave him, meaning hero in their language, in hopes that his son would become a savior to his kind, one that would return the peace to the island if a calamity ever arose. Little did he know that his son would be the one who would anger the Gods and bring catastrophe to their land.

A treasure chest full of clothes and jewelry was found washed ashore one day, on a beach where Armin often spent his time daydreaming about the outside world. Though they had their preference for clothing and accessories, hybrids were always fond of shiny gemstones, but at that time, nothing caught his attention more than a leather book the size of a large stepping stone. The inside of the treasure box was dry, despite the journey full of storms and crashing waves it must have gone through before it reached his beach. The book was not ruined.

Armin flipped through the pages. The words were written in a different language but even if they weren’t, it would not have mattered. None of the Valyrians were literate as they preferred to communicate verbally. They drew on the walls and walked their fingers across the sand, but they had never invented words to be placed on parchments.

The boy landed his cerulean eyes on a set of illustrations sketched by a human’s hand. Words and languages weren’t needed to explain that he was seeing a drawing of flaming water, land made of ice, and fields of sand spreading wide as if it was endless.

Beautiful, Armin wondered, stars dancing in his eyes as they gleamed in awe. Is this what the outside world looks like?

That was how it all started. One boy, desperate to seek an answer to his question, decided to take action to fulfill his thirst. With a wooden boat he made with his talented hands, a week’s worth of food, and a breechclout made from a wolf’s fur to protect him from the wind, Armin roamed the ocean at dawn. He let the waves carry him away from the paradise he once called home, seeking another heaven that would satisfy his curiosity.

But what stood on the other side of the sea was no such thing.

It was hell on earth.

They found him the second he stepped down from his boat. The outsiders approached menacingly with javelins gripped tightly between their hands. They questioned his identity with their deep, guttural voices in a language the boy had never spoken of. The golden-haired boy cowered in fear, his sapphire eyes quivering like the crystal-like water behind him. In his frightened state, the boy lost focus on his power, and the invisible cloak around him provided by his magic, vanished. The outsiders watched him with widened eyes, faces turning pasty at the sight of his horns and tail. They didn’t find beauty in his scales.

“A d-demon,” one of them said and the boy took a step back, lost his footing, and fell onto the sand. Sea water drenched his skin, and while it usually calmed him down in the past, it only made him feel frantic. The boy tried to communicate with his gentle heart, his hands raised in surrender but they mistook it for a threat. A man, twice his size, shouted at him, his voice ringing vehemently enough to awaken the boy’s instinct to protect himself. His human eyes turned snake-like as he stretched out a hand before him, palm splayed with heat trickling from his fingertips. In the next second, blue flames materialized out of thin air.

And it burned the man into dust.

The boy was just as frightened of himself as the other males, but the humans were much faster to regain their composure. Acting on impulse, they restrained the boy with ropes that dug tortuously into his skin, threw a rag over his head, and brought him to a dungeon where they would spend hours tormenting him. They mutilated him, chopped off his hands so he wouldn’t be able to use his fire magic. Each question was answered with a wail, and once they had grown tired, the humans tried to burn him alive, wanting him to experience the same painful death that had befallen their comrade. Armin might not have been invincible to daggers, but he welcomed the heat of the flames like an old friend. He couldn’t be burned, his bones remained strong, and his skin was unscathed. At that moment, fear was no longer the only thing that swelled inside those humans’ merciless hearts. There was greed. They saw his power as a gift, and they wanted to take it for themselves.

The boy pleaded for his life and they promised him freedom if he could lead them to his home. Gullible and desperate, Armin led them back to the sea. They stopped in the middle of the ocean, their bodies weak and dehydrated. The outsiders were confused as they could see nothing but water glimmering like diamonds under the sun. There was magic shrouding the island, a protection field that prevented anyone but the Valyrians from seeing the island until they passed through it. The humans, not knowing about the invisible cloak that concealed the island, were furious, assuming that the boy had tricked them and led them astray. But then Armin murmured a word in a language they didn't know existed, and like a curtain being tugged to the side, the island appeared before their eyes.

The outsiders rejoiced. They were one step closer to getting what they wanted.

Armin, despite his willingness to cooperate, had his head detached from his neck the second they arrived on the island. That day, from daylight to nighttime, the humans wreaked havoc on their island with their spears and swords. The outside world was cold and cruel, and the humans were trained for survival and warfare. But the hybrids were nothing like them, too used to living in tranquility to be able to take the life of another. The battle was one-sided.

Humans didn’t just walk away victorious. They robbed everything they could, raped every woman, tortured every man, and murdered the elderly all in one night. They tied up the children’s hands and legs and they tossed them to the back of their boats, carrying them back to their own land so they could experiment with their powers. They ripped the scales out of their skins. They used their bodies to test their weapons. They wanted to know every bit of their weakness and steal away every bit of their strength. The children didn’t last long, dying from being unable to withstand the pain. The massacre put an end to their race. The dragons had perished, all except one.

Eren Jaeger, a nine-year-old hybrid, managed to escape the massacre at the cost of his family’s lives. He saw the way his father gasped as a javelin struck past his heart. He heard the sound of his brother’s cry as they chopped off his legs and fed his body to their hounds. He felt the way his mother embraced him with her trembling arms as she asked him to flee for his life and leave her behind.

“You have to go or they will take you away,” she urged him, her voice quavering in terror. “Run. And when you feel like you can’t run anymore, run faster. You have to live.”

“But Mother–”

“Eren.” She placed her hands on his shoulders, casting him the same smile that Eren had fallen in love with from the day he was born. “You have to live so you can remember us.” She kissed his tears away but she didn’t let him do the same. She pushed her child forward, yelling, “Run!”

Eren did, without having a second to bid his goodbye. He sprinted faster than the wind, even if each stride felt like he was stepping onto shards of broken glass. He dived into the sea, and he let the tide and the storm be his shield and shelter.

And he never looked back.

THE BIRTH OF THE WOLVES

Nymeria was the home of the Gods. Vibrant with colors, perfused with life.

As one of the eight kingdoms that ruled the continent, its beauty stretched endlessly from the drift ice in the north sea to the mangrove jungles in the south. Petals of cherry blossom trees performed a graceful dance with the wind in the spring, while the scent of thriving bamboo permeated the air throughout the year.

The first emperor, Michizane Sugawara, built his kingdom from scratch. He was known as the Wolf of The North, due to his fierceness and loyalty. But an old lady would tell her grandchildren a different story of how he regained that title.

Michizane was only a baby who had barely learned how to smile when his people perceived him as a vessel of a vengeful spirit. He was born with an anomaly, where his eyes were blood red instead of gentle brown like his parents. From the day he breathed his first air, a deadly plague spread through the entire village, taking every newborn’s life, and sending the elderly to eternal sleep. The soothing rains turned into storms, flooding their land and destroying their paddies. The gentle breeze evolved into a hurricane and swept away their houses. They were too afraid to question the Gods and so they blamed a child who still craved his mother’s warmth.

On a night of the full moon, they snatched the baby away from his mother’s arms. They cast him into the woods, far away in the north, where the starving wolves roam around, searching for prey. The people sat down and prayed at the gate, not for the baby’s safety, but to offer his life to the Forest Gods, hoping that it would stop the calamity that befell their homes.

His people abandoned him, but the wolves took him into their pack. Michizane was raised in the woods and the wolves taught him their language and the meaning of family. He learned compassion. He learned how to forgive and rely on each other’s strength. Because when the snow falls and the wind blows, the lone wolf dies but the pack survives.

The catastrophe that struck the village continued long after they last listened to the sound of Michizane’s fretful cry. The people remained hungry, their children were only bones and skin. One day, a pack of wolves walked into their village with silence in their steps and glowing eyes. They were not ordinary beasts, three times the size of the wolves that guarded their woods, heavier with more massive jaws and teeth that could tear a man’s leg with a single bite. They did not fear fire. They did not fear blades. The people screamed in their helpless state, and the mothers cried as the wolves howled.

Then a man stepped in, a stranger by face but not by name, and the wolves turned as still as the dead.

“I am Michizane Sugawara,” the man said, his eyes glowing in the night like a scarlet moon but they were as gentle as the breeze that kissed his cheeks. “The man you once cast away.”

“The vengeful spirit!” a brawny man shouted, pointing his javelin at his face. A beast covered with smoke gray fur lunged forward in response, standing before Michizane like a mother wolf protecting its pup. The man took a step back, his face turned pasty at the sight of its bared teeth.

“Easy,” Michizane said, his hand stroking the direwolf’s fur, and the growling that rumbled deep within its chest turned into a soft purr. His opponent watched his every movement closely, but the one who seemed like a threat was not Michizane. It was himself.

“I am not here for revenge,” Michizane explained, grabbing the sack he carried on one shoulder and emptying its insides. Mangos and berries tumbled to the ground, rolling and knocking themselves against the peasants’ feet. The people stared in bewilderment. Where did he find these fruits? They wondered. They were certain that there was nothing left for them to harvest, as the storms had destroyed everything to the ground.

“I found them in the forest,” Michizane answered their silent question. “There is more than I can carry. Come with me. I’ll show you the path.”

The people turned their heads, staring at each other’s faces with frowns breaking on their temples. “B-but…” A lady spoke, her voice was as frail as a spiderweb. “There are… wolves in the forest.”

“Yes, there are,” Michizane responded with a smile, caressing the beast with one hand and it leaned further into his touch like a small kitten. “They’re my family.”

“Why should we trust you?” Her husband said, firmer in tone even when his knees were trembling under his weight. “What if you lead us into the forest and toss us to the wolves?”

“Because I’m not like you.” The tenderness in Michizane’s voice began to waver as his patience ran thin. “I don’t sacrifice a human’s life to save my own. I am here to give you an option. Pledge your loyalty to me and I will make sure your children sleep with their stomachs full. Put your faith in me and I will let the wolves protect you, the way they protected me. I doubt you can survive the next winter if you remain in this state. We can survive together. We will survive together.”

Words alone would not be enough to suddenly turn their fear into devotion, but at least, they managed to light a flicker of flame in their hearts, enough for them to be brave. They kept their weapons and torches in their hands but they followed his trail without a word. The wolves stood on their sides, their teeth no longer bared, and they were as silent as the night itself. When they entered the forest, they were welcomed by the sight of mango trees coming into fruit, dangling tantalizingly before their eyes.

“Take as many as you wish,” Michizane said. “I won’t let you starve.”

Instead of sprinting toward the trees, the villagers dropped down to their knees, their arms stretched out as they pressed their foreheads to the ground. They called upon his name, chanting it like prayer as they spoke their gratitudes. His red eyes shone in elation, happy to welcome his new family, but an innocent child pointed his hand at him. “A demon,” the child said before his mother clasped her palm against his mouth, shushing him down.

“He’s not a demon. He’s our savior.” She bowed to him. “He’s our king.”

The demon in the darkness was the answer to their prayer all along. The lost hero. The new emperor. The Wolf of The North.

Michizane brought his people together, protected them under his claws and teeth, and guided them to live a life full of love and forgiveness. The empire that started small, grew immensely over the years as more people came to seek the taste of serenity that he provided. Centuries passed by, and Nymeria remained prosperous. They said their soils were blessed by the deities, that when a man tossed a broken branch into the dirt, the earth would restore it to its glory by the next morning. Food was never scarce. Children never ran out of laughter. Men guffawed all day and mothers sang their favorite lullabies to their smiling babies. People created names for their Gods, and they chanted them in their prayers with their eyes closed and their heads bowed low enough for their skin to graze the earth.

But a thousand prayers were left unheard once a man, driven by his vanity and lust for power, claimed the throne and betrayed his ancestors’ will. The Gods stopped giving them their blessings, and they simply watched from the heavens above.

And they watched how Nymeria slowly began to rot from the inside.

Emperor Yuuki Okkotsu was not born a vile man. He was just like Michizane himself. Determined. Goal-driven. Strong and courageous. A respectable, handsome young man who would never lay a hand on the innocents. He wished only to preserve peace in his kingdom. The only thing that separated them was the fact that Michizane kept the turmoil in his chest buried deep behind the smile that he showcased to his people. He would rather suffer alone than bring his people to shed tears with him. Yuuki Okkotsu, on the other hand, was not one to put on a facade. When he was suffused with joy, the women rejoiced in pretty clothes and the men fell asleep with smiles on their faces. When anger consumed him, he let his wrath burn everything around him. When he was swallowed by grief, the children cried in his presence.

Nymeria was an ally to every kingdom, except one: The Dricans. Known as The Golden Lions, they were powerful, fierce, and strong like the king of the jungle itself. They were one of the seven kingdoms that presided over the continent, second in strength only to the wolves. But unlike the Nymerians who were content with living within the borders of their land, the Dricans wanted more. Fueled by greed, the lions roared and the wolves perceived it as a threat.

It was the last night of winter when a Nymerian princess was captured by the Dricans. They sliced her flesh open, destroyed her honor, and sent back her corpse to her brother, the king himself. The Dricans sent their regards, a message strapped to her casket said. The emperor remained muted but the direwolves howled. And the world watched with bated breath as he took his revenge.

The diplomatic acts between the two kingdoms did not work as the emperor was determined to make Drican pay for their sins. Insulted by his act, they decided to settle it for good. Yuuta Okkotsu, Yuuki’s first-born child, witnessed the terror that the Dricans spread throughout their lands from the spaces between his mother’s fingers. Drican invaded their home at the break of dawn, burning down their fields and tainting their crystal lakes with shades of crimson. Though shocked by the sudden aggression, Nymeria was strong enough to put up a fight.

The war between the two dynasties lasted for the entire summer. Blood of Nymerian warriors pooled and dried on the ground, their skins scorched by the blazing sun, frozen when the night kissed them goodbye. Many innocent lives were taken away. A widow’s wail echoed through the night, and the fireflies went silent as they mourned her husband’s death. The emperor was running out of options. He couldn’t win without a new source of power. And in his desperate need, his advisor whispered in his ear.

There was a rumor, he said, that a witch lived somewhere in a forested ravine in the rugged mountain that stood a hundred miles away from the palace. A lady with ginger hair and a smile wicked enough to spread goosebumps on a man’s skin. Nobara, they called her, a strange name for a strange woman, but Yuuki wanted her more than he longed to feast on a wild boar. He sent twelve brave men to take her captive. Only five of them returned, dragging the witch behind them like cattle.

The emperor asked her to create a spell, one that would grant him an immense amount of power. He informed her that it was necessary for him to protect his realm, to give his people the peaceful life they desired, just like in the old days. The witch, knowing that Drican was the one who waged the war, granted him his wish. She cast a spell on him, and he perceived it as a gift. A blessing from the Gods, he believed. Her only warning for him was to not harm the innocents, an easy feat as he had sworn to protect them even before she shrouded him with her magic.

For her spell to work, a sacrifice was necessary. A human’s life. The more he killed, the stronger he became. Yuuki could feel the surge of energy flowing through his system as he drove his sword deep inside his opponent’s chest. Anguish was a hurricane churning inside his chest that he tried to put a blind eye on. There was no need for the two kingdoms to sacrifice the lives of their brave men, but it was a point of no return.

The emperor deceived himself by believing that one death of his enemy would guarantee a life for his people. He stopped seeing the Dricans as humans, and perceived them as demons instead. And by the power bestowed by the Gods, he would send them back to the land of the dead.

The emperor had the strength to incapacitate a whole army by himself. Within three days, the Dricans kneeled before him, pleading for mercy. Their foreheads were glued to the ground, their body shaking in fear, and their lips were bitten hard to suppress their tears. Yuuki, for once, stopped raising his sword. He tried to find the will within himself to forgive, but once it was found, a Drican soldier, unwilling to surrender, rose to his feet, snatched a knife hidden underneath his cloak, and tossed it forward. The dagger pierced through the air, aiming straight for the Yuuki’s head but the spell protected him, hardened his skin, making it impenetrable. There was not a scratch on his body, and not a drop of his blood was shed. The dagger clattered on the earth before he retrieved it with one hand. In the next second, the Drican soldier’s head was split into two, his own knife flying past through his skull.

The Dricans didn’t seek mercy, Yuuki concluded. They sought a chance to betray him, to strike him down when he was in his most vulnerable state. He wouldn’t give it to them. He wouldn’t let a traitor walk on his land.

And so the emperor sent an order to slaughter them all. Every Drican, let it be men, women, or infants—everyone must die. He was swallowed by his wrath that he forgot the caution the witch had given him. And when he took an innocent’s life for the first time, the amount of energy that flowed through him was a hundred times more intense. The witch had lied to him, Yuuki thought. Innocent lives didn’t weaken the spell, it strengthened it. Killing a faithful wife would grant him the same amount of power that he felt when he slaughtered ten vicious men. Killing a child would give him the strength to crack the earth open with a swing of his sword. With every innocent life he took, the greater magic he possessed.

The war lasted for months but it ended in one night. It was not followed by cheers of victory, only eerie silence.

Drican had fallen, and from their ashes, Nymeria rose stronger than ever.

Peace returned once again, but it was never the same. Before he ascended to the throne, the emperor was once a kind, loving husband, and a doting parent to his two children, Yuuta and Rika. Now, his sanity deteriorated with each passing second. The spell got to his head. He became addicted to power. He murdered each of his enemies but they never granted him the same power that he felt when he took innocent lives. He needed it. He needed to kill. But when he had run out of enemies to slay, his lust for power turned him blind.

Yuuta, a twelve-year-old boy at that time, was unable to catch a wink of sleep. It was the night of the full moon when he stepped down from his bed, dragging his little feet as he made his way to his parent’s chamber. He wished to see his mother, wanting to fall asleep with his head on her lap as he listened to the same lullaby she always hummed and sang to him to wash away his nightmares. It was childish of him to still want to be spoiled this way despite his age, but his mother never complained once. She found him endearing, and she was his first love.

The little boy landed a hand on the door, pushing it open as he rubbed his eyes away from sleep. “Mother,” he called but no one came to answer. Stepping further inside the room, he witnessed his mother lay down on the bed, her long black hair strewn across her pillow. Looming above her, trapping her waist between his knees, was the man who wore the same face as his father. But instead of a smile and affection in his eyes, the man bared his teeth, his sapphire eyes glowing as he curled his strong fingers around her neck, choking the life out of her.

Yuuta was petrified, his feet icebound to the ground as he watched with his big blue eyes shaking in disbelief. By the time he found his voice, his mother’s body had turned limp. Her beautiful eyes had lost their gleam, and she stared hollowly at her husband’s face. Yuuta saw the way his father sighed in relief, almost as if he was drowning in ecstasy. Yuuki stared at his hands, laughing as he felt power coursing through his veins. He felt alive, better than he had ever been.

Then the man stopped, sensing the little noise that Yuuta made as his breath hitched in his throat. His father spun his head around, facing his child and the tiny hairs on Yuuta’s nape stood in fear.

That man was not his father.

Yuuta ran as if the devil was chasing after him. He ran without looking back, his lungs burning and his heart bleeding. He returned to his chamber, locked the door, and pressed his back against it. His knees shook underneath his weight and he slid down to the floor. With both hands covering his mouth, he shut his eyes closed and sobbed. His younger sister, Rika, who was staying in the same room, woke up from her sleep at the sound of his muffled cry.

“Yuuta?” She crawled down from her bed, dragging her quilt behind her as she made her way toward her brother. “Yuuta, what’s wrong?” She went down to her knees before him, checking on his face with bleary eyes. “Why are you crying? A nightmare?”

“R-Rika…” Her name was strangled in his throat. “Mother—Mother is—”

The sound of a fist meeting door was heard from the other side and Yuuta jerked violently in surprise, returning to his feet with his arms wrapped protectively around his sister.

“Yuuta,” his father called, his thunderous voice had not been laced with the same tenderness in the last few years. “Answer the door.”

“N-no!”

“Yuuta?” Rika, who sensed the horror in her brother’s voice, started to mimic his body language. “What is happening?”

“Yuuta.” Yuuki’s voice pitched lower.

“Go away, Father!”

Enraged, the emperor smashed the door with one hand. The children shrieked, holding each other tight as they fell to their knees. Yuuta embraced his sister close, placing his palms over her ears to silence her surroundings. The boy was still sobbing fervently, body shivering from head to toe, but in his eyes, there was a hint of bravery that Yuuki had only seen in his worst enemy. No matter how much his feet were itching to run, Yuuta was determined to protect his sister.

“Stay away,” the boy said, peering deep into his father’s eyes with the intensity of a cornered wolf. “I won’t let you hurt Rika.”

The little girl was clutching onto his shirt, clawing at Yuuta’s chest as her tears stained his fabric. “Y-Yuuta…”

“It’s all right, Rika,” Yuuta replied, pressing his cheek against her temple as he maintained his gaze on his father’s face. The tremble in his voice was no longer as apparent as before. “I will protect you.”

The sight of his children crouching in fear before him momentarily broke the spell that fogged his thoughts. The bloodlust in his eyes flickered like candlelight being swayed by the wind before it vanished completely. As if losing his strength at once, the emperor kneeled on the ground, his face contorted in pain as he watched the siblings with his eyes rimmed by his tears.

“I’m sorry,” Yuuki said repeatedly as he watched his trembling hands in horror. He seemed afraid, not of anyone but himself. “Please forgive me.” He reached out a hand, wanting to take his son’s hand but the boy took a step back.

“D-don’t touch me,” Yuuta said. He could tell that whatever it was that possessed his father a moment ago had left its vessel, but his fear made him hesitant.

Grave sadness overtook the emperor’s face. “Yuuta… There are… Voices in my head.” His father confessed, and for the first time in his life, his son watched the hero who brought victory and honor to his empire—to his family—crumble in agony. “I can’t stop them… I had to do it. I needed to do it.”

“You killed Mother,” Yuuta said, each word vocalized with a dagger scratching against his throat.

His sentence robbed Yuuki out of his breath. “Haruka…” He mourned his wife’s name through gritted teeth. “I never wanted to hurt her.” The man shook his head, pleading for forgiveness. “I don’t know what’s happening to me. I’m going insane, Yuuta. I can’t stop it. I just wanted to feel alive and the next thing I knew, I—” The man cast his gaze down to his hands, splaying his palms before he clenched them into fists. “This power is a curse. That witch… I have to find that witch to reverse it but…” He ground his jaw, trying to stop a sob from fleeing out of his mouth. “My wife… My wife is gone… I killed her…”

Yuuta did not believe his words, but he stayed in silence, watching the tears line his father’s cheeks as he cried silently in shame. When the man elevated his face, he swore to him, “I won’t hurt you. I promise I won’t hurt you. My children… You are the only ones I have left.”

There was no guarantee that the emperor would stay true to his promise. Even the man himself didn’t find the strength to believe in it. But despite what he had done, he was still the father who nurtured him, who taught him the meaning of life, the man who made his kingdom feel like home. Yuuta felt his heart break into pieces, even more than it already had.

On the next morning, as the servants cleaned and buried his wife’s corpse, Yuuta and Rika were escorted out of the palace without being given a chance to state their prayers. Afraid that he would harm his children in the future the way he did his wife, Yuuki sent them away to his relatives at the opposite end of the world, far away in the west. He bid his final words not with a goodbye but with an apology, leaving his children confused and shaken, but Yuuta never spoke a word. No matter how frail and heartbroken his father seemed, he would never be able to forget the wicked gleam in his eyes as he rejoiced over his wife’s death.

“I will find a way to cure myself,” his father promised them. “I will return to how I was. Your mother’s family will take care of you until then. Yuuta, Rika, we will be together again soon.”

The children traveled across the sea, accompanied by their most trusted knights to protect them and servants to attend to their needs. They rode the waves, making their way to visit their relatives in the west. That day, the sunset was the most beautiful one Yuuta had ever seen but he could not find the strength to appreciate it. And as if the sky listened to the storm that raged within his chest, the clouds turned dark and the heavens cried for his sake.

The gulls were tossed paper in a storm, flashes of white in the gray, tumbling as they struggled against the gale. Heavy droplets of rain felt like ice daggers on their skin, and the tides churned below them, tilting the ship from side to side. As the children and the servants struggled to find their way to the deck, fighting against the rainstorm, a sudden crash of waves toppled the ship and sent Yuuta’s body flying backward. He was clutching against the railing, screaming for help as he felt his fingers starting to lose grip. Beneath him, the sea rose as great mountains, anger in the form of water, turbulent and unforgiving.

He heard Rika shouting his name, her voice was a whisper among the thunders that rumbled through the sky. Before a hand could reach him, the storm stole him away.

Yuuta fell into the bottomless sea, forced to fight against its rage. And with no weapon in his hands, he let the Gods decide on his fate.

***

Tagging: @brujaovermoxy @erentoes @starry-supernova @itsalicewickedmcgee @jaeger-xo @whore4jean @ninachan00 @raechulashleigh @fqiryspit

Thank you for reading!

#eren smut #yuuta smut #eren fluff #eren yeager smut #eren jaeger smut #yuuta okkotsu smut #yuuta fluff #aot smut #snk smut #jjk smut #jjk fluff #aot fluff #snk fluff #eren jaeger #eren yeager #yuuta okkotsu #ice & fire canon

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liesandarbor · 7 years ago

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Every mention of “obsidian” and “dragonglass” in the books.

Happy Friday Thrones and ASOIAF fans! With all of the talk of obsidian, dragonglass and the great war to come this season, I gathered an ultra post of every mention in ASOIAF text of Dragonglass and Obsidian (BONUS: and some ‘black oily structures’). There’s a little crossover in a few of the quotes!

Let’s jump to them at the cut.

Every mention of “Dragonglass” in the books:

"Take a lesson, Bran. The man who trusts in spells is dueling with a glass sword. As the children did. Here, let me show you something." He stood abruptly, crossed the room, and returned with a green jar in his good hand. "Have a look at these," he said as he pulled the stopper and shook out a handful of shiny black arrowheads. Bran picked one up. "It's made of glass." Curious, Rickon drifted closer to peer over the table. "Dragonglass," Osha named it as she sat down beside Luwin, bandagings in hand. "Obsidian," Maester Luwin insisted, holding out his wounded arm. "Forged in the fires of the gods, far below the earth. The children of the forest hunted with that, thousands of years ago. The children worked no metal. In place of mail, they wore long shirts of woven leaves and bound their legs in bark, so they seemed to melt into the wood. In place of swords, they carried blades of obsidian." "And still do." Osha placed soft pads over the bites on the maester's forearm and bound them tight with long strips of linen. Bran held the arrowhead up close. The black glass was slick and shiny. He thought it beautiful. "Can I keep one?" "As you wish," the maester said. "I want one too," Rickon said. "I want four. I'm four." Luwin made him count them out. "Careful, they're still sharp. Don't cut yourself." "Tell me about the children," Bran said. It was important. A Game of Thrones - Bran VII

The next day two of them came together to audience; the Greatjon's uncles, blustery men in the winter of their days with beards as white as the bearskin cloaks they wore. A crow had once taken Mors for dead and pecked out his eye, so he wore a chunk of dragonglass in its stead. As Old Nan told the tale, he'd grabbed the crow in his fist and bitten its head off, so they named him Crowfood. She would never tell Bran why his gaunt brother Hother was called Whoresbane.

A Clash of Kings - Bran II

A length of frayed rope bound the bundle together. Jon unsheathed his dagger and cut it, groped for the edges of the cloth, and pulled. The bundle turned, and its contents spilled out onto the ground, glittering dark and bright. He saw a dozen knives, leaf-shaped spearheads, numerous arrowheads. Jon picked up a dagger blade, featherlight and shiny black, hiltless. Torchlight ran along its edge, a thin orange line that spoke of razor sharpness. Dragonglass. What the maesters call obsidian. Had Ghost uncovered some ancient cache of the children of the forest, buried here for thousands of years? The Fist of the First Men was an old place, only . . .

Beneath the dragonglass was an old warhorn, made from an auroch's horn and banded in bronze. Jon shook the dirt from inside it, and a stream of arrowheads fell out. He let them fall, and pulled up a corner of the cloth the weapons had been wrapped in, rubbing it between his fingers. Good wool, thick, a double weave, damp but not rotted. It could not have been long in the ground. And it was dark. He seized a handful and pulled it close to the torch. Not dark. Black.

A Clash of Kings - Jon IV

"This Andrik may be a great fighter, but men do not fear him as they fear you." "Aye, that's so," Dagmer said. The fingers curled around the drinking horn were heavy with rings, gold and silver and bronze, set with chunks of sapphire and garnet and dragonglass. He had paid the iron price for every one, Theon knew.

A Clash of Kings - Theon III

Trader captains brought lace from Myr, chests of saffron from Yi Ti, amber and dragonglass out of Asshai. Merchants offered bags of coin, silversmiths rings and chains. Pipers piped for her, tumblers tumbled, and jugglers juggled, while dyers draped her in colors she had never known existed. A pair of Jogos Nhai presented her with one of their striped zorses, black and white and fierce.

A Clash of Kings - Daenerys III

"A fine trick," announced Jhogo with admiration. "No trick," a woman said in the Common Tongue. Dany had not noticed Quaithe in the crowd, yet there she stood, eyes wet and shiny behind the implacable red lacquer mask. "What mean you, my lady?"

"Half a year gone, that man could scarcely wake fire from dragonglass. He had some small skill with powders and wildfire, sufficient to entrance a crowd while his cutpurses did their work. He could walk across hot coals and make burning roses bloom in the air, but he could no more aspire to climb the fiery ladder than a common fisherman could hope to catch a kraken in his nets."

Dany looked uneasily at where the ladder had stood. Even the smoke was gone now, and the crowd was breaking up, each man going about his business. In a moment more than a few would find their purses flat and empty. "And now?"

A Clash of Kings - Daenerys III

Sam came puffing up as Jon crossed the camp. Under the black hood his face was as pale and round as the moon. "I heard the horn. Has your uncle come back?" "It's only the men from the Shadow Tower." It was growing harder to cling to the hope of Benjen Stark's safe return. The cloak he had found beneath the Fist could well have belonged to his uncle or one of his men, even the Old Bear admitted as much, though why they would have buried it there, wrapped around the cache of dragonglass, no one could say. "Sam, I have to go."

A Clash of Kings - Jon V

Jon slid his new dagger from its sheath and studied the flames as they played against the shiny black glass. He had fashioned the wooden hilt himself, and wound hempen twine around it to make a grip. Ugly, but it served. Dolorous Edd opined that glass knives were about as useful as nipples on a knight's breastplate, but Jon was not so certain. The dragonglass blade was sharper than steel, albeit far more brittle. It must have been buried for a reason.

A Clash of Kings - Jon V

Every fourth or fifth step he had to reach down and tug up his swordbelt. He had lost the sword on the Fist, but the scabbard still weighed down the belt. He did have two knives; the dragonglass dagger Jon had given him and the steel one he cut his meat with. All that weight dragged heavy, and his belly was so big and round that if he forgot to tug the belt slipped right off and tangled round his ankles, no matter how tight he cinched it. He had tried belting it above his belly once, but then it came almost to his armpits. Grenn had laughed himself sick at the sight of it, and Dolorous Edd had said, "I knew a man once who wore his sword on a chain around his neck like that. One day he stumbled, and the hilt went up his nose."

A Storm of Swords - Samwell I

His duty done, he finished dressing with clumsy, frightened fingers, donning his cap and surcoat and hooded cloak and buckling on his swordbelt, buckling it real tight so it wouldn't fall down. Then he found his pack and stuffed all his things inside, spare smallclothes and dry socks, the dragonglass arrowheads and spearhead Jon had given him and the old horn too, his parchments, inks, and quills, the maps he'd been drawing, and a rock-hard garlic sausage he'd been saving since the Wall. He tied it all up and shouldered the pack onto his back. The Lord Commander said I wasn't to rush to the ringwall, he recalled, but he said I shouldn't come running to him either. Sam took a deep breath and realized that he did not know what to do next.

A Storm of Swords - Samwell I

When he opened his eyes the Other's armor was running down its legs in rivulets as pale blue blood hissed and steamed around the black dragonglass dagger in its throat. It reached down with two bone-white hands to pull out the knife, but where its fingers touched the obsidian they smoked.

Sam rolled onto his side, eyes wide as the Other shrank and puddled, dissolving away. In twenty heartbeats its flesh was gone, swirling away in a fine white mist. Beneath were bones like milkglass, pale and shiny, and they were melting too. Finally only the dragonglass dagger remained, wreathed in steam as if it were alive and sweating. Grenn bent to scoop it up and flung it down again at once. "Mother, that's cold."

"Obsidian." Sam struggled to his knees. "Dragonglass, they call it. Dragonglass. Dragon glass." He giggled, and cried, and doubled over to heave his courage out onto the snow.

A Storm of Swords - Samwell I

"Why can't I just be Samwell Tarly?" He sat down heavily on a wet log that Grenn had yet to split. "It was the dragonglass that slew it. Not me, the dragonglass."

A Storm of Swords - Samwell II

But Dywen listened, and Dolorous Edd, and they made Sam and Grenn tell the Lord Commander. Mormont frowned all through the tale and asked pointed questions, but he was too cautious a man to shun any possible advantage. He asked Sam for all the dragonglass in his pack, though that was little enough. Whenever Sam thought of the cache Jon had found buried beneath the Fist, it made him want to cry. There'd been dagger blades and spearheads, and two or three hundred arrowheads at least. Jon had made daggers for himself, Sam, and Lord Commander Mormont, and he'd given Sam a spearhead, an old broken horn, and some arrowheads. Grenn had taken a handful of arrowheads as well, but that was all.

So now all they had was Mormont's dagger and the one Sam had given Grenn, plus nineteen arrows and a tall hardwood spear with a black dragonglass head. The sentries passed the spear along from watch to watch, while Mormont had divided the arrows among his best bowmen. Muttering Bill, Garth Greyfeather, Ronnel Harclay, Sweet Donnel Hill, and Alan of Rosby had three apiece, and Ulmer had four. But even if they made every shaft tell, they'd soon be down to fire arrows like all the rest. They had loosed hundreds of fire arrows on the Fist, yet still the wights kept coming.

A Storm of Swords - Samwell II

"Yes," said Sam, "but is it the cold that brings the wights, or the wights that bring the cold?"

"Who cares?" Grenn's axe sent wood chips flying. "They come together, that's what matters. Hey, now that we know that dragonglass kills them, maybe they won't come at all. Maybe they're frightened of us now!"

Sam wished he could believe that, but it seemed to him that when you were dead, fear had no more meaning than pain or love or duty. He wrapped his hands around his legs, sweating under his layers of wool and leather and fur. The dragonglass dagger had melted the pale thing in the woods, true . . . but Grenn was talking like it would do the same to the wights. We don't know that, he thought. We don't know anything, really. I wish Jon was here. He liked Grenn, but he couldn't talk to him the same way. Jon wouldn't call me Slayer, I know. And I could talk to him about Gilly's baby. Jon had ridden off with Qhorin Halfhand, though, and they'd had no word of him since. He had a dragonglass dagger too, but did he think to use it? Is he lying dead and frozen in some ravine . . . or worse, is he dead and walking?

A Storm of Swords - Samwell II

Lord Commander Mormont gave him a withering look. "You are a man of the Night's Watch. Try not to soil your smallclothes every time I look at you. Come, I said." His boots made squishing sounds in the mud, and Sam had to hurry to keep up. "I've been thinking about this dragonglass of yours."

"It's not mine," Sam said.

"Jon Snow's dragonglass, then. If dragonglass daggers are what we need, why do we have only two of them? Every man on the Wall should be armed with one the day he says his words."

"We never knew . . ."

"We never knew! But we must have known once. The Night's Watch has forgotten its true purpose, Tarly. You don't build a wall seven hundred feet high to keep savages in skins from stealing women. The Wall was made to guard the realms of men . . . and not against other men, which is all the wildlings are when you come right down to it. Too many years, Tarly, too many hundreds and thousands of years. We lost sight of the true enemy. And now he's here, but we don't know how to fight him. Is dragonglass made by dragons, as the smallfolk like to say?"

"The m-maesters think not," Sam stammered. "The maesters say it comes from the fires of the earth. They call it obsidian."

A Storm of Swords - Samwell II

Sam stumbled. “Jon found more, on the Fist. Hundreds of arrowheads, spearheads as well . . .” “So you said. Small good it does us there. To reach the Fist again we’d need to be armed with the weapons we won’t have until we reach the bloody Fist. And there are still the wildlings to deal with. We need to find dragonglass someplace else.” Sam had almost forgotten about the wildlings, so much had happened since. “The children of the forest used dragonglass blades,” he said. “They’d know where to find obsidian.” “The children of the forest are all dead,” said Mormont. “The First Men killed half of them with bronze blades, and the Andals finished the job with iron. Why a glass dagger should—” The Old Bear broke off as Craster emerged from between the deerhide flaps of his door. The wildling smiled, revealing a mouth of brown rotten teeth. “I have a son.”

A Storm of Swords - Samwell II

"Tell them what, my lord?" Sam asked politely.

"All. The Fist. The wildlings. Dragonglass. This. All." His breathing was very shallow now, his voice a whisper. "Tell my son. Jorah. Tell him, take the black. My wish. Dying wish."

"Wish?" The raven cocked its head, beady black eyes shining. "Corn?" the bird asked.

"No corn," said Mormont feebly. "Tell Jorah. Forgive him. My son. Please. Go."

"It's too far," said Sam. "I'll never reach the Wall, my lord." He was so very tired. All he wanted was to sleep, to sleep and sleep and never wake, and he knew that if he just stayed here soon enough Dirk or Ollo Lophand or Clubfoot Karl would get angry with him and grant his wish, just to see him die. "I'd sooner stay with you. See, I'm not frightened anymore. Of you, or . . . of anything."

A Storm of Swords - Samwell II

"You—" she started.

"I have the knife. The dragonglass dagger." He fumbled it out as he got to his feet. He'd given the first knife to Grenn, but thankfully he'd remembered to take Lord Mormont's dagger before fleeing Craster's Keep. He clutched it tight, moving away from the fire, away from Gilly and the babe. "Paul?" He meant to sound brave, but it came out in a squeak. "Small Paul. Do you know me? I'm Sam, fat Sam, Sam the Scared, you saved me in the woods. You carried me when I couldn't walk another step. No one else could have done that, but you did." Sam backed away, knife in hand, sniveling. I am such a coward. "Don't hurt us, Paul. Please. Why would you want to hurt us?"

Gilly scrabbled backward across the hard dirt floor. The wight turned his head to look at her, but Sam shouted "NO!" and he turned back. The raven on his shoulder ripped a strip of flesh from his pale ruined cheek. Sam held the dagger before him, breathing like a blacksmith's bellows. Across the longhall, Gilly reached the garron. Gods give me courage, Sam prayed. For once, give me a little courage. Just long enough for her to get away.

Small Paul moved toward him. Sam backed off until he came up against a rough log wall. He clutched the dagger with both hands to hold it steady. The wight did not seem to fear the dragonglass. Perhaps he did not know what it was. He moved slowly, but Small Paul had never been quick even when he'd been alive. Behind him, Gilly murmured to calm the garron and tried to urge it toward the door. But the horse must have caught a whiff of the wight's queer cold scent. Suddenly she balked, rearing, her hooves lashing at the frosty air. Paul swung toward the sound, and seemed to lose all interest in Sam.

There was no time to think or pray or be afraid. Samwell Tarly threw himself forward and plunged the dagger down into Small Paul's back. Half-turned, the wight never saw him coming. The raven gave a shriek and took to the air. "You're dead!" Sam screamed as he stabbed. "You're dead, you're dead." He stabbed and screamed, again and again, tearing huge rents in Paul's heavy black cloak. Shards of dragonglass flew everywhere as the blade shattered on the iron mail beneath the wool.

A Storm of Swords - Samwell III

"Sam?"

Grenn looked away. "He killed one of the Others, Jon. I saw it. He stabbed him with that dragonglass knife you made him, and we started calling him Sam the Slayer. He hated that."

Sam the Slayer. Jon could hardly imagine a less likely warrior than Sam Tarly. "What happened to him?"

A Storm of Swords - Jon VI

Ser Ilyn bowed before the king and queen, reached back over his shoulder, and drew forth six feet of ornate silver bright with runes. He knelt to offer the huge blade to Joffrey, hilt first; points of red fire winked from ruby eyes on the pommel, a chunk of dragonglass carved in the shape of a grinning skull.

Sansa stirred in her seat. "What sword is that?" Tyrion's eyes still stung from the wine. He blinked and looked again. Ser Ilyn's greatsword was as long and wide as Ice, but it was too silvery bright; Valyrian steel had a darkness to it, a smokiness in its soul. Sansa clutched his arm. "What has Ser Ilyn done with my father's sword?"

I should have sent Ice back to Robb Stark, Tyrion thought. He glanced at his father, but Lord Tywin was watching the king.

A Storm of Swords - Tyrion VIII

"And Sam the Slayer," said Grenn. "You slew an Other."

"It was the dragonglass that killed it," Sam told him for the hundredth time.

"A lord's son, the maester's steward, and Sam the Slayer," Pyp mused. "You could talk to them, might be . . ."

A Storm of Swords - Samwell IV

Stannis snorted. "I know Janos Slynt. And I knew Ned Stark as well. Your father was no friend of mine, but only a fool would doubt his honor or his honesty. You have his look." A big man, Stannis Baratheon towered over Jon, but he was so gaunt that he looked ten years older than he was. "I know more than you might think, Jon Snow. I know it was you who found the dragonglass dagger that Randyll Tarly's son used to slay the Other."

"Ghost found it. The blade was wrapped in a ranger's cloak and buried beneath the Fist of the First Men. There were other blades as well . . . spearheads, arrowheads, all dragonglass."

"I know you held the gate here," King Stannis said. "If not, I would have come too late."

A Storm of Swords - Jon XI

King Stannis gazed off north again, his gold cloak streaming from his shoulders. "It may be that I am mistaken in you, Jon Snow. We both know the things that are said of bastards. You may lack your father's honor, or your brother's skill in arms. But you are the weapon the Lord has given me. I have found you here, as you found the cache of dragonglass beneath the Fist, and I mean to make use of you. Even Azor Ahai did not win his war alone. I killed a thousand wildlings, took another thousand captive, and scattered the rest, but we both know they will return. Melisandre has seen that in her fires. This Tormund Thunderfist is likely re-forming them even now, and planning some new assault. And the more we bleed each other, the weaker we shall all be when the real enemy falls upon us."

A Storm of Swords - Jon XI

"Y-yes, Your Grace. Jon Snow gave it to me."

"Dragonglass." The red woman's laugh was music. "Frozen fire, in the tongue of old Valyria. Small wonder it is anathema to these cold children of the Other."

"On Dragonstone, where I had my seat, there is much of this obsidian to be seen in the old tunnels beneath the mountain," the king told Sam. "Chunks of it, boulders, ledges. The great part of it was black, as I recall, but there was some green as well, some red, even purple. I have sent word to Ser Rolland my castellan to begin mining it. I will not hold Dragonstone for very much longer, I fear, but perhaps the Lord of Light shall grant us enough frozen fire to arm ourselves against these creatures, before the castle falls."

Sam cleared his throat. "S-sire. The dagger . . . the dragonglass only shattered when I tried to stab a wight."

Melisandre smiled. "Necromancy animates these wights, yet they are still only dead flesh. Steel and fire will serve for them. The ones you call the Others are something more."

A Storm of Swords - Samwell V

"Sam the Slayer!" he said, by way of greeting. "Are you sure you stabbed an Other, and not some child's snow knight?"

This isn't starting well. "It was the dragonglass that killed it, my lord," Sam explained feebly.

"Aye, no doubt. Well, out with it, Slayer. Did the maester send you to me?"

A Storm of Swords - Samwell V

He wanted it, Jon knew then. He wanted it as much as he had ever wanted anything. I have always wanted it, he thought, guiltily. May the gods forgive me. It was a hunger inside him, sharp as a dragonglass blade. A hunger . . . he could feel it. It was food he needed, prey, a red deer that stank of fear or a great elk proud and defiant. He needed to kill and fill his belly with fresh meat and hot dark blood. His mouth began to water with the thought.

A Storm of Swords - Jon XII

Armen crossed his arms. "Obsidian does not burn."

"Dragonglass," Pate said. "The smallfolk call it dragonglass." Somehow that seemed important.

"They do," mused Alleras, the Sphinx, "and if there are dragons in the world again . . ."

A Feast for Crows - Prologue

"Long ago," Jon broke in. "What about the Others?"

"I found mention of dragonglass. The children of the forest used to give the Night's Watch a hundred obsidian daggers every year, during the Age of Heroes. The Others come when it is cold, most of the tales agree. Or else it gets cold when they come. Sometimes they appear during snowstorms and melt away when the skies clear. They hide from the light of the sun and emerge by night . . . or else night falls when they emerge. Some stories speak of them riding the corpses of dead animals. Bears, direwolves, mammoths, horses, it makes no matter, so long as the beast is dead. The one that killed Small Paul was riding a dead horse, so that part's plainly true. Some accounts speak of giant ice spiders too. I don't know what those are. Men who fall in battle against the Others must be burned, or else the dead will rise again as their thralls."

"We knew all this. The question is, how do we fight them?"

"The armor of the Others is proof against most ordinary blades, if the tales can be believed," said Sam, "and their own swords are so cold they shatter steel. Fire will dismay them, though, and they are vulnerable to obsidian." He remembered the one he had faced in the haunted forest, and how it had seemed to melt away when he stabbed it with the dragonglass dagger Jon had made for him. "I found one account of the Long Night that spoke of the last hero slaying Others with a blade of dragonsteel. Supposedly they could not stand against it."

"Dragonsteel?" Jon frowned. "Valyrian steel?"

A Feast for Crows - Samwell I/A Dance with Dragons Jon II

"Scared? Of what? The chidings of old men? Sam, you saw the wights come swarming up the Fist, a tide of living dead men with black hands and bright blue eyes. You slew an Other."

"It was the d-d-d-dragonglass, not me."

"Be quiet. You lied and schemed and plotted to make me Lord Commander. You will obey me. You'll go to the Citadel and forge a chain, and if you have to cut up corpses, so be it. At least in Oldtown the corpses won't object."

A Feast for Crows - Samwell I/A Dance with Dragons Jon II

". . . obsidian," said the other man in the room, a pale, fleshy, pasty-faced young fellow with round shoulders, soft hands, close-set eyes, and food stains on his robes.

"Call it dragonglass." Archmaester Marwyn glanced at the candle for a moment. "It burns but is not consumed."

"What feeds the flame?" asked Sam.

A Feast for Crows - Samwell V

"Some smaller than others." Valyria. It was written that on the day of Doom every hill for five hundred miles had split asunder to fill the air with ash and smoke and fire, blazes so hot and hungry that even the dragons in the sky were engulfed and consumed. Great rents had opened in the earth, swallowing palaces, temples, entire towns. Lakes boiled or turned to acid, mountains burst, fiery fountains spewed molten rock a thousand feet into the air, red clouds rained down dragonglass and the black blood of demons, and to the north the ground splintered and collapsed and fell in on itself and an angry sea came rushing in. The proudest city in all the world was gone in an instant, its fabled empire vanished in a day, the Lands of the Long Summer scorched and drowned and blighted.

A Dance with Dragons - Tyrion VIII

Seven hundred feet up, Jon Snow stood looking down upon the haunted forest. A north wind swirled through the trees below, sending thin white plumes of snow crystals flying from the highest branches, like icy banners. Elsewise nothing moved. Not a sign of life. That was not entirely reassuring. It was not the living that he feared. Even so …

The sun is out. The snow has stopped. It may be a moon's turn before we have another chance as good. It may be a season. "Have Emmett assemble his recruits," he told Dolorous Edd. "We'll want an escort. Ten rangers, armed with dragonglass. I want them ready to leave within the hour."

"Aye, m'lord. And to command?"

A Dance with Dragons - Jon VII

Nearby midnight the winds finally died away, and the sea grew calm enough for Tyrion to make his way back up onto deck. What he saw there did not reassure him. The cog was drifting on a sea of dragonglass beneath a bowl of stars, but all around the storm raged on. East, west, north, south, everywhere he looked, the clouds rose up like black mountains, their tumbled slopes and collossal cliffs alive with blue and purple lightning. No rain was falling, but the decks were slick and wet underfoot.

A Dance with Dragons - Tyrion IX

The arms most wildlings carry are little more than sticks, thought Jon. Wooden clubs, stone axes, mauls, spears with fire-hardened points, knives of bone and stone and dragonglass, wicker shields, bone armor, boiled leather. The Thenns worked bronze, and raiders like the Weeper carried stolen steel and iron swords looted off some corpse … but even those were oft of ancient vintage, dinted from years of hard use and spotted with rust.

A Dance with Dragons - Jon XI

The giants had no kings and no lords, made no homes save in caverns or beneath tall trees, and they worked neither metal nor fields. They remained creatures of the Dawn Age even as the ages passed them by, men grew ever more numerous, and the forests were tamed and dwindled. Now the giants are gone even in the lands beyond the Wall, and the last reports of them are more than a hundred years old. And even those are dubious—tales that rangers of the Watch might tell over a warm fire. The children of the forest were, in many ways, the opposites of the giants. As small as children but dark and beautiful, they lived in a manner we might call crude today, yet they were still less barbarous than the giants. They worked no metal, but they had great art in working obsidian (what the smallfolk call dragonglass, while the Valyrians knew it by a word meaning "frozen fire") to make tools and weapons for hunting. They wove no cloths but were skilled in making garments of leaves and bark. They learned to make bows of weirwood and to construct flying snares of grass, and both of the sexes hunted with these.

The World of Ice and Fire - Ancient History: The Dawn Age

The one thing that can be said for certain is that it was a cataclysm such as the world had never seen. The ancient, mighty Freehold—home to dragons and to sorcerers of unrivaled skill—was shattered and destroyed within hours. It was written that every hill for five hundred miles split asunder to fill the air with ash and smoke and fire so hot and hungry that even the dragons in the sky were engulfed and consumed. Great rents opened in the earth, swallowing palaces, temples, and entire towns. Lakes boiled or turned to acid, mountains burst, fiery fountains spewed molten rock a thousand feet into the air, and red clouds rained down dragonglass and the black blood of demons. To the north, the ground splintered and collapsed and fell in on itself, and an angry sea came boiling in.

The World of Ice and Fire - Ancient History: The Doom of Valyria

The children fought back as best they could, but the First Men were larger and stronger. Riding their horses, clad and armed in bronze, the First Men overwhelmed the elder race wherever they met, for the weapons of the children were made of bone and wood and dragonglass. Finally, driven by desperation, the little people turned to sorcery and beseeched their greenseers to stem the tide of these invaders.

And so they did, gathering in their hundreds (some say on the Isle of Faces), and calling on their old gods with song and prayer and grisly sacrifice (a thousand captive men were fed to the weirwood, one version of the tale goes, whilst another claims the children used the blood of their own young). And the old gods stirred, and giants awoke in the earth, and all of Westeros shook and trembled. Great cracks appeared in the earth, and hills and mountains collapsed and were swallowed up. And then the seas came rushing in, and the Arm of Dorne was broken and shattered by the force of the water, until only a few bare rocky islands remained above the waves. The Summer Sea joined the narrow sea, and the bridge between Essos and Westeros vanished for all time.

The World of Ice and Fire - Dorne: The Breaking

Every mention of “Obsidian” in the books:

Catelyn had more faith in a maester's learning than a septon's prayers. She was about to say as much when she saw the battlements ahead, long parapets built into the very stone of the mountains on either side of them. Where the pass shrank to a narrow defile scarce wide enough for four men to ride abreast, twin watchtowers clung to the rocky slopes, joined by a covered bridge of weathered grey stone that arched above the road. Silent faces watched from arrow slits in tower, battlements, and bridge. When they had climbed almost to the top, a knight rode out to meet them. His horse and his armor were grey, but his cloak was the rippling blue-and-red of Riverrun, and a shiny black fish, wrought in gold and obsidian, pinned its folds against his shoulder. "Who would pass the Bloody Gate?" he called.

A Game of Thrones - Catelyn VI

The stewards! For a moment Jon could not believe what he had heard. Mormont must have read it wrong. He started to rise, to open his mouth, to tell them there had been a mistake … and then he saw Ser Alliser studying him, eyes shiny as two flakes of obsidian, and he knew.

A Game of Thrones - Jon VI

The next morning it was Ser Brynden Tully himself who rode back to them. He had put aside the heavy plate and helm he'd worn as the Knight of the Gate for the lighter leather-and-mail of an outrider, but his obsidian fish still fastened his cloak.

A Game of Thrones - Catelyn IX

Bran picked one up. "It's made of glass." Curious, Rickon drifted closer to peer over the table.

"Dragonglass," Osha named it as she sat down beside Luwin, bandagings in hand.

"Obsidian," Maester Luwin insisted, holding out his wounded arm. "Forged in the fires of the gods, far below the earth. The children of the forest hunted with that, thousands of years ago. The children worked no metal. In place of mail, they wore long shirts of woven leaves and bound their legs in bark, so they seemed to melt into the wood. In place of swords, they carried blades of obsidian."

"And still do." Osha placed soft pads over the bites on the maester's forearm and bound them tight with long strips of linen.

Bran held the arrowhead up close. The black glass was slick and shiny. He thought it beautiful. "Can I keep one?"

"As you wish," the maester said.

"I want one too," Rickon said. "I want four. I'm four."

Luwin made him count them out. "Careful, they're still sharp. Don't cut yourself."

"Tell me about the children," Bran said. It was important.

A Game of Thrones - Bran VII

"But some twelve thousand years ago, the First Men appeared from the east, crossing the Broken Arm of Dorne before it was broken. They came with bronze swords and great leathern shields, riding horses. No horse had ever been seen on this side of the narrow sea. No doubt the children were as frightened by the horses as the First Men were by the faces in the trees. As the First Men carved out holdfasts and farms, they cut down the faces and gave them to the fire. Horror-struck, the children went to war. The old songs say that the greenseers used dark magics to make the seas rise and sweep away the land, shattering the Arm, but it was too late to close the door. The wars went on until the earth ran red with blood of men and children both, but more children than men, for men were bigger and stronger, and wood and stone and obsidian make a poor match for bronze. Finally the wise of both races prevailed, and the chiefs and heroes of the First Men met the greenseers and wood dancers amidst the weirwood groves of a small island in the great lake called Gods Eye.

A Game of Thrones - Bran VII

All the colors that had been missing from Vaes Tolorro had found their way to Qarth; buildings crowded about her fantastical as a fever dream in shades of rose, violet, and umber. She passed under a bronze arch fashioned in the likeness of two snakes mating, their scales delicate flakes of jade, obsidian, and lapis lazuli. Slim towers stood taller than any Dany had ever seen, and elaborate fountains filled every square, wrought in the shapes of griffins and dragons and manticores.

A Clash of Kings - Daenerys II

A Clash of Kings - Jon IV

A Storm of Swords - Samwell I

"Obsidian." Sam struggled to his knees. "Dragonglass, they call it. Dragonglass. Dragon glass." He giggled, and cried, and doubled over to heave his courage out onto the snow.

A Storm of Swords - Samwell I

"The m-maesters think not," Sam stammered. "The maesters say it comes from the fires of the earth. They call it obsidian."

Mormont snorted. "They can call it lemon pie for all I care. If it kills as you claim, I want more of it."

A Storm of Swords - Samwell II

Sam had almost forgotten about the wildlings, so much had happened since. "The children of the forest used dragonglass blades," he said. "They'd know where to find obsidian."

"The children of the forest are all dead," said Mormont. "The First Men killed half of them with bronze blades, and the Andals finished the job with iron. Why a glass dagger should—"

A Storm of Swords - Samwell II

Sleeping alone in my own cold cell never made me any harder or braver, though. He wondered what his father would say if he could see him now. I killed one of the Others, my lord, he imagined saying. I stabbed him with an obsidian dagger, and my Sworn Brothers call me Sam the Slayer now. But even in his fancies, Lord Randyll only scowled, disbelieving.

A Storm of Swords - Samwell III

Roro had sailed past Skagos into the Shivering Sea, visiting a hundred little coves that had never seen a trading ship before. He brought steel; swords, axes, helms, good chainmail hauberks, to trade for furs, ivory, amber, and obsidian. When the Cobblecat turned back south her holds were stuffed, but in the Bay of Seals three black galleys came out to herd her into Eastwatch. They lost their cargo and the Bastard lost his head, for the crime of trading weapons to the wildlings.

A Storm of Swords - Davos V

The king gave that a curt nod, as if to say he knew and did not care. "You slew this creature with an obsidian dagger, I am told," he said to Sam.

"Y-yes, Your Grace. Jon Snow gave it to me."

A Storm of Swords - Samwell V

"What are these glass candles?" asked Roone.

Armen the Acolyte cleared his throat. "The night before an acolyte says his vows, he must stand a vigil in the vault. No lantern is permitted him, no torch, no lamp, no taper . . . only a candle of obsidian. He must spend the night in darkness, unless he can light that candle. Some will try. The foolish and the stubborn, those who have made a study of these so-called higher mysteries. Often they cut their fingers, for the ridges on the candles are said to be as sharp as razors. Then, with bloody hands, they must wait upon the dawn, brooding on their failure. Wiser men simply go to sleep, or spend their night in prayer, but every year there are always a few who must try."

"Yes." Pate had heard the same stories. "But what's the use of a candle that casts no light?"

A Feast for Crows - Prologue

"I know what I saw. The light was queer and bright, much brighter than any beeswax or tallow candle. It cast strange shadows and the flame never flickered, not even when a draft blew through the open door behind me."

Armen crossed his arms. "Obsidian does not burn."

"Dragonglass," Pate said. "The smallfolk call it dragonglass." Somehow that seemed important.

A Feast for Crows - Prologue

"We knew all this. The question is, how do we fight them?"

A Feast for Crows - Samwell I/A Dance with Dragons Jon II

The candle was unpleasantly bright. There was something queer about it. The flame did not flicker, even when Archmaester Marwyn closed the door so hard that papers blew off a nearby table. The light did something strange to colors too. Whites were bright as fresh-fallen snow, yellow shone like gold, reds turned to flame, but the shadows were so black they looked like holes in the world. Sam found himself staring. The candle itself was three feet tall and slender as a sword, ridged and twisted, glittering black. "Is that . . . ?"

". . . obsidian," said the other man in the room, a pale, fleshy, pasty-faced young fellow with round shoulders, soft hands, close-set eyes, and food stains on his robes.

"Call it dragonglass." Archmaester Marwyn glanced at the candle for a moment. "It burns but is not consumed."

A Feast for Crows - Samwell V

The soldier pines and sentinels wore thick white coats, and icicles draped the bare brown limbs of the broadleafs. Jon sent Tom Barleycorn ahead to scout for them, though the way to the white grove was oft trod and familiar. Big Liddle and Luke of Longtown slipped into the brush to east and west. They would flank the column to give warning of any approach. All were seasoned rangers, armed with obsidian as well as steel, warhorns slung across their saddles should they need to summon help.

A Dance with Dragons - Jon VII

The World of Ice and Fire - Ancient History: The Dawn Age

It has long been held that they did this for protection from predators such as direwolves or shadowcats, which their simple stone weapons—and even their vaunted greenseers—were not proof against. But other sources dispute this, stating that their greatest foes were the giants, as hinted at in tales told in the North, and as possibly proved by Maester Kennet in the study of a barrow near the Long Lake—a giant's burial with obsidianarrowheads found amidst the extant ribs. It brings to mind a transcription of a wildling song in Maester Herryk's History of the Kings-Beyond-the-Wall, regarding the brothers Gendel and Gorne. They were called upon to mediate a dispute between a clan of children and a family of giants over the possession of a cavern. Gendel and Gorne, it is said, ultimately resolved the matter through trickery, making both sides disavow any desire for the cavern, after the brothers discovered it was a part of a greater chain of caverns that eventually passed beneath the Wall. But considering that the wildlings have no letters, their traditions must be looked at with a jaundiced eye.

The World of Ice and Fire - Ancient History: The Dawn Age

The "unicorns" of Skagos were once scoffed at by maesters at the Citadel. The occasional "unicorn horn" offered by disreputable merchants has never been more than the horn of a kind of whale hunted by the whalers of Ib. However, horns of quite a different kind—reputed to be from Skagos—have been seen by the maesters at Eastwatch upon occasion. It is also said that those seafarers brave enough to trade on Skagos have glimpsed the stoneborn lords riding great, shaggy, horned beasts, monstrous mounts so sure-footed they have been known to climb the sides of mountains. A living example of such a creature—or even a skeleton—has long been sought for study, but none has ever been brought to Oldtown.

Though rarely seen off their island, the stoneborn once were accustomed to crossing the Bay of Seals to trade or, more oft, raid—until King Brandon Stark, Ninth of His Name, broke their power once and for all, destroyed their ships, and forbade them the sea. For most of recorded history, they have remained an isolated, backward, savage folk, as like to murder those who land upon their isle as to trade with them. When they do consent to trade, the Skagosi offer pelts, obsidian blades and arrowheads, and "unicorn horns" for goods they desire.

Some Skagosi have served in the Night's Watch as well. More than a thousand years ago, a Crowl (a member of a clan that passes for nobility on Skagos) was even Lord Commander for a time, and the Annals of the Black Centaur speak of a Stane (a member of another Skagosi family) who rose to become First Ranger but died shortly thereafter.

The World of Ice and Fire - The North: The Stoneborn of Skagos

Mentions of oily black buildings/stone/structure:

Neither the dancers nor the drinkers took much note of Theon Greyjoy as he strode to the dais. Lord Balon occupied the Seastone Chair, carved in the shape of a great kraken from an immense block of oily black stone. Legend said that the First Men had found it standing on the shore of Old Wyk when they came to the Iron Islands. To the left of the high seat were Theon's uncles. Asha was ensconced at his right hand, in the place of honor. "You come late, Theon," Lord Balon observed.

A Clash of Kings - Theon II

Even among the ironborn there are some who doubt this and acknowledge the more widely accepted view of an ancient descent from the First Men—even though the First Men, unlike the later Andals, were never a seafaring people. Certainly, we cannot seriously accept the assertions of the ironborn priests, who would have us believe that the ironmen are closer kin to fish and merlings than the other races of mankind.

Archmaester Haereg once advanced the interesting notion that the ancestors of the ironborn came from some unknown land west of the Sunset Sea, citing the legend of the Seastone Chair. The throne of the Greyjoys, carved into the shape of a kraken from an oily black stone, was said to have been found by the First Men when they first came to Old Wyk. Haereg argued that the chair was a product of the first inhabitants of the islands, and only the later histories of maesters and septons alike began to claim that they were in fact descended of the First Men. But this is the purest speculation and, in the end, Haereg himself dismissed the idea, and so must we.

The World of Ice and Fire - The Iron Islands

Maesters and other scholars alike have puzzled over the greatest of the engimas of Sothoryos, the ancient city of Yeen. A ruin older than time, built of oily black stone, in massive blocks so heavy that it would require a dozen elephants to move them, Yeen has remained a desolation for many thousands of years, yet the jungle that surrounds it on every side has scarce touched it. ("A city so evil that even the jungle will not enter," Nymeria is supposed to have said when she laid eyes on it, if the tales are true). Every attempt to rebuild or resettle Yeen has ended in horror.

The World of Ice and Fire - Beyond the Free Cities: Sothoryos

The maester did not believe in omens. And yet . . . old as he was, Cressen had never seen a comet half so bright, nor yet that color, that terrible color, the color of blood and flame and sunsets. He wondered if his gargoyles had ever seen its like. They had been here so much longer than he had, and would still be here long after he was gone. If stone tongues could speak . . .

Such folly. He leaned against the battlement, the sea crashing beneath him, the black stone rough beneath his fingers. Talking gargoyles and prophecies in the sky. I am an old done man, grown giddy as a child again. Had a lifetime's hard-won wisdom fled him along with his health and strength? He was a maester, trained and chained in the great Citadel of Oldtown. What had he come to, when superstition filled his head as if he were an ignorant fieldhand?

A Clash of Kings - Prologue

Lord Stannis Baratheon's refuge was a great round room with walls of bare black stone and four tall narrow windows that looked out to the four points of the compass. In the center of the chamber was the great table from which it took its name, a massive slab of carved wood fashioned at the command of Aegon Targaryen in the days before the Conquest. The Painted Table was more than fifty feet long, perhaps half that wide at its widest point, but less than four feet across at its narrowest. Aegon's carpenters had shaped it after the land of Westeros, sawing out each bay and peninsula until the table nowhere ran straight. On its surface, darkened by near three hundred years of varnish, were painted the Seven Kingdoms as they had been in Aegon's day; rivers and mountains, castles and cities, lakes and forests.

A Clash of Kings - Prologue

#asoiaf #dragonglass #game of thrones #asoiaf references #asoiaf resources #mine

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