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aesteries · 12 days ago

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⋆✴︎˚。⋆ ─ ❝sweetling❞ ─ aemond targaryen and original female character. ❝alicent hightower's youngest daughter, haera targaryen, has returned to king's landing after eight long years in old town and aemond finds himself inexplicably drawn to the girl kissed by the moon and with the eyes that seem to only look at him.❞

how could i not love eyes that see me in all my forms as beautiful?

〔incest, innocence and fantasies, fluff and romance, smut, virginity, events of blood and cheese, family rivalry, disabled main character, hints of book!aemond, modified show!timeline and events.〕

words: 6.6k series' masterlist.

CHAPTER 2.

Court affairs often put him to sleep, hours of incessant complaints and requests from worthless high-born lords and ladies who wanted more than they deserved, but not today. What was unfolding before his healthy eye was just too gripping to ignore, and for once, he thanked the gods that he did not fake an illness to miss the spectacle. His half-sister, Rhaenyra, had been bold enough to bring her illegitimate children to the Red Keep to stake their claim on Driftmark. She was demanding to recognise her second son’s legitimacy, placing him as his apparent father’s heir, amidst opposition from Vaemond Velaryon, who argues that the title belonged to him instead. Many lords in the room nodded in secret agreement with Vaemond's reasonable demand, yet Rhaenyra refused to back down, her determination palpable.

The sudden boom of the throne room doors echoed throughout the chamber as they parted, a loud announcement of the King’s arrival snapping everyone back to reality. Glancing to his side, he saw his siblings straightening up, eyes fixed on their father, King Viserys, as he struggled down the stairs with his body curved over himself. Haera, ever the dutiful daughter, had perked up at the mention of her father’s name, but her clouded vision refused to settle over the fragile man as he began his laboured progress toward the throne.

“King Viserys of House Targaryen, the First of His Name, King of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.”

The room sank into silence, a deafening sound as all eyes focused on the King's pathetic frame. The status of his health was known, but to witness his decay was a shock to everyone, and even the unflappable Otto Hightower had concern etched all over his face, though it did not seem quite genuine as he scrambled out of the throne he had been keeping warm. The air was heavy with tension as the King's slow, agonising approach to the throne seemed to take an eternity, pain burning up his skin with every step.

He trudged up the steps toward the Iron Throne, pridefully waving off the guards' offers of assistance as he stumbled, his legs trembling beneath him. In his struggle and exhaustion, the crown that dangerously balanced over his balding head slipped and fell to the granite floor with a shattering clank of metal. Aemond’s eye locked on the back of his uncle’s head as the man was the only one to act, guiding his older brother on the final few steps and placing the crown on his head.

“I do not understand,” King Viserys’s voice was frail, breathless as he spoke, “why petitions are being heard over a settled succession.”

The sight of the bastard-born boy, with his head of brown locks and the whiteness of his skin standing between the rich tones of the Velaryons, triggered a low laugh from the prince’s lips, earning a side glance from his mother. The air in the throne room was thick, an obvious buzz of energy flowing between the Targaryen royalty.

“As a matter of fact, the Princess Rhaenyra has just informed me of her desire to marry her sons, Jace and Luke, to Lord Corly’s granddaughters, Baela and Rhaena.” Princess Rhaenys’s tone was firm and confident: “A proposal to which I heartily agree.”

Suddenly, as if he had finally heard something that interested him, King Viserys’ eyes snapped to attention, rising on his seat as if the weight of his crown had been redistributed to him with full health. The left side of his face, that side that was uncovered by the mask, twisted into a smile of cracked lips. “Very well…” His voice filled the space with anticipation, his tired eyes darting around the faces of his family. "However, I have a say in the matter of the betrothal of my grandson, Prince Lucerys.”

Aemond’s gaze drifted to his half-sister, who was already watching them with an air of confidence, a smirk on her lips with a subtle challenge. Her piercing glare seemed to dare him, to provoke him, to let him know that she knew something that he did not. His stomach twisted into knots, and he suddenly felt the ghost of a noose around his neck.

"I believe in the continued union of our families, those with the blood of Old Valyria," the king declared, his voice echoing through the hall. "And therefore, I have decided to unite my youngest daughter, Princess Haera Targaryen, to Prince Lucerys of House Velaryon, the rightful heir to Driftmark, the Driftwood Throne, and the future Lord of the Tides."

The young prince’s world was shattered, like that night when he claimed Vhagar, the remnants of untouched innocence finally scattering over the floor for everyone to see. His despair must have been that obvious, as Aegon’s worries were evident when he turned to glance at him. Aemond remained statue-still, his gaze fixed on the back of Haera's head as she stood rigidly, flanked by Helaena and their mother. Alicent's grip on the young girl's wrist was like a vice, a desperate attempt to prevent them from tearing her away, her knuckles white with tension.

Aemond’s heartbreak was soon replaced by a raging fire, like Vhagar’s fire, that consumed his every thought as his eye daggered Lucerys Velaryon, who in return dared to challenge him with a subtle nod. Any outburst in the King’s presence would be suicidal, his wrath barely contained as his hand lingered on the hilt of his sword. He was all too familiar with the King's blind devotion to Rhaenyra and her brood, and he knew his powerlessness against it. Perhaps he could take her and rescue her from the toxicity of the court, where her innocence was being sullied by the very presence of the Strong bastards. He recalled the day Lucerys had slashed him, the resentment still festering like an open wound. In this moment, Aemond felt trapped, forced to endure the insolence of his nemesis.

It was only when gentle warmth had wrapped around his fingers that he was brought back to the present from his deadly fantasies. He looked down to find Haera’s tearful eyes welling up with crystal tears, her mind consumed by her future. The quivering of her lips fed the fire in the pit of his stomach. She was likely aware of the implications of their union, of the dark legacy they would pass on to their children, a heritage shrouded in deceit and tainted by the lies that had defined their past. She was meant to clean Lucery’s dirtied Valyrian blood with their union.

Time stopped for them as they gazed into each other’s eyes, the gentle flutter of her white eyelashes betraying the warmth of her adoration. He knew, deep down, that he and she were meant to be; it transcended tradition. It was fate; it was the will of the gods—they made her just for him, everything that he was not. Even if she were to stand before the altar, before that naive boy to exchange vows, Aemond was resolute; he would set things right. His sweetling would not be made to suffer for the mistakes of others. He would move heaven and earth to ensure her freedom from the shackles of injustice, no matter the cost.

A sudden scream cut their moment short.

Aemond’s mind was reeling, struggling to comprehend just what was unfolding before him as the two of them snapped out of their trance that had drowned out the inheritance hearing. Daemon Targaryen’s sword sliced through the air with a swift swing, decapitating Vaemond Velaryon with a deadly motion. In the aftermath of the violence, as the body began to spill over the floor, Haera instinctively wrapped her arms around his middle for protection. He enveloped her tightly, his hand on the back of her head as he held her close to his chest. The feeling of her slender frame pressed against him and his arms cradling her felt surprisingly natural, out of a dream. It was a gesture that brought a sense of calm to the chaos surrounding them; it grounded them, a fleeting moment of solace in the face of Daemon's ferocity.

His heart was racing as he clutched her. It was where she belonged: sheltered in his embrace, secured in his grasp, shielded by his unwavering protection. The half-sister’s eyes were fixed on the pair, intense with the fire of the dragon, her mind reeling with the plan she had put in place. A brother consumed by his passion and a sister who reciprocated those feelings, now a forbidden romance. She felt the danger in the pit of her stomach, not for her claim to the throne but for the future of her second-born son. Persuading her father to accept the match had been easy, serving the young prince an opportunity on a silver platter. Lucerys saw the two Targaryens lost in their own world, and he saw a challenge.

The air was heavy with tension, thick with the weight of forbidden love and the ominous foreshadowing of strife to come.

The day after the disastrous inheritance hearing, the sun cast a gentle glow on the beautiful gardens of the Red Keep, its rays illuminating the many flowers that adorned the greenery. As she strolled through, a soft breeze caressed her face and tangled her hair, pulling the strands from the intricate braids her ladies had crafted. Yet she was overwhelmed by anxiety and a sense of unease that had settled in her stomach. The company, she was convinced, was to blame for her discomfort. Her mother’s encouragement still echoed fresh in her mind, and she would not let her down even if she had missed the worry behind the Queen’s forced smile.

Lucerys Velaryon had appeared outside the Queen’s chambers; his arm extended in invitation as a way to formally begin courting his promised princess. The young man possessed an unusual charm, an air of innocence one moment, and a sharp tongue the next. Within mere minutes of their stroll, he had dropped too many complaints for her comfort, criticising the alterations to the Red Keep, the gardens, and even the maids’ outfits. The food, as well, was apparently not to his liking, and she found herself on edge, bracing for the next critique to tumble from his lips.

Lucerys droned on about the dragonpit or something about dragons, but her mind had drifted to some of the times she had taken strolls around the garden. Aemond cherished their shared moments. He never complained, never interrupted her, and listened to her. She recalled how he would gently hold her hand over the cracked stones, ensuring she didn't trip and fall. He'd pluck flowers from the nearby bushes, presenting them to her so she could marvel at their beauty up close. In those quiet moments, Aemond always reminded her that she possessed a beauty that rivalled the flowers, making her feel treasured and unique.

As she stood beside her betrothed, Lucerys, her eyes widened in stark realization. Her thoughts strayed back to Aemond as if her mind were trying to escape the present.

The one-eyed prince lingered in the darkness, fixed on every step they took. The torches cast long shadows over him, clouding him from their sight and helping him blend into the darkness with his black leather. His mother had attempted to stop him, claiming that it was for her own good, but he refused to abandon her, especially since she was to be alone with that bastard and Gods knew what he could be capable of. She looked radiant, shining like jewels even under the weak sunlight, clad in an exquisite silk dress with delicate lace patterns. Her beauty, so pure, made his heart ache with jealousy, seeing how her beauty was being wasted on Lucerys when it should be reserved for him alone.

“I was wondering,” Lucerys’ voice finally directed at her shook her from her thoughts. “How come you do not ride your dragon?”

Her brows furrowed, initially confused at his question but realising he had no idea about the tragedy that had befallen her hatchling, Brightfyre, during childhood. The memory of that painful day was still so fresh in her mind, even if she had been too young. It was like an open wound that would never heal, and his question had rubbed salt over it. "My dragon passed away when it was just a hatchling," she explained, her voice laced with a hint of sadness.

As she spoke, Lucerys's face lost its colour, his features contorting into a grimace. "The dragon keepers believed it was due to a malformation during incubation. According to the maesters, I wouldn't have been able to ride for long even if Brightfyre had survived anyways, as my sight would have continued to deteriorate with age.”

She missed the expression, her gaze fixed on the ground as she continued her walk, her footsteps steady and deliberate. Behind her, Lucerys had to consciously relax his facial muscles, shaking off the tension that had built up. Aemond, ever the observer, caught the subtle movement and raised an eyebrow, his eyes darting between the young couple as they strolled through the castle grounds.

“I’m relieved,” she confessed, her tone a stark contrast to the sorrow that had taken over her voice moments ago. “It gives me a sense of freedom, not being bound to one of them... being different from the rest of my family, to make a name for myself and not through my dragon.”

Lucerys's incredulity was palpable as he struggled to comprehend her words. "But you're a Targaryen," he protested, his voice laced with disbelief. "The blood of dragonlords from Old Valyria runs through your veins. Having dragons is the greatest symbol of our power and strength." He couldn't imagine a life without a dragon; it was unthinkable, especially for a Targaryen and for someone like him. Memories of his childhood came flooding back like an aggressive tide of the times he and the others had mercilessly teased Aemond for not having a dragon, only for him to claim the largest one alive. Lucerys swallowed hard, the memory still a bitter pill to swallow, especially when he thought of the Aemond of today.

She halted, her footsteps suddenly heavy on the stone floor, and turned back to him with an unreadable expression etched on her face. "I do not believe that," she said, her voice laced with conviction. "To me, we are more than the blood of dragons.”

Lucerys's response was immediate and firm. "Blood is everything.”

Her eyes, a light shade of purple that no other Targaryen shared, narrowed, and a spark of defiance flashed within them, lighting up like a flame. It was a glint Lucerys had never seen before—a darker, more intense, suffocating as she stepped closer, her shoulders squaring and her chin tilting upward. Lucerys felt a jolt of surprise. The gentle girl he had been introduced to had transformed before his very eyes into someone else. The corner of her lip curled into a faint, mischievous smirk, and for a fleeting moment, Lucerys could have sworn Aemond's spirit had possessed her, imbuing her with his audacity.

Her voice, usually so sweet and feathery, was laced with sarcasm that sent icy cold shivers down Lucery’s spine as she spoke. “Is that so, my prince?” Her tone dripped with irony. “Is your blood that..." Her eyes wandered over his form, her tilted head making it seem that she was speaking down on him. “Strong… that it defines who you are and determines your worth?” The emphasis on the word "strong" was a subtle challenge, a dare to Lucerys to defend his stance.

Aemond smiled to himself, filled to the brim with a sense of satisfaction as he observed the confrontation from his corner, her voice clear as she landed her verbal blow. He couldn't help but feel proud of her, amused by this feisty side of hers that she had never shown. Despite likely dying inside from the weight of her words, she had stood up to Lucerys, refusing to back down. Aemond knew she would learn to defend herself, and their nephew wouldn't easily intimidate her.

Lucerys's face flushed with anger, his ears burning as he understood the hidden message in her words, her intention to offend him clear as day. His nails dug deep into his palms to the point they almost drew blood, a desperate attempt to restrain himself from lashing out and from raising his hand to teach her a lesson about disrespect. He had to find a way to bend her to his will, and despite her venomous words, she had a rather fragile nature, and he was sure that a few swift blows would be enough to shatter her spirit.

“Anything the matter, nephew?” Aemond’s velvety voice halted the conversation between the young prince and princess, as he had made his way out of the darkness and into the light, having decided that they had spent too long together. His voice dripped with superiority, his shoulders tight as he looked down at the boy.

They turned to face him, eyes wide as they fixed on the intimidating figure with hands clasped behind his back and a smile that froze the prince in place, a smile that seemed to revel in the power it held over others. Lucerys' skin broke out in goosebumps as the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. In stark contrast, Haera’s body reacted differently the moment his calming presence washed over her; tense muscles relaxed, breathing slowed, and calmness took over her.

Lucerys, on the other hand, stumbled over his words, his voice trembling as he tried to find an excuse for their conversation that had taken a disgusting turn, eyes darting towards Haera, who seemed to be the only one immune to Aemond's intimidating aura. The prince's courage, once bold enough to consider striking his future wife, now shrank to the size of a timid rat, cowering in the face of Aemond's dominance.

Aemond turned to address his younger sister, his eye intense with adoration that seemed to suck up all the air around them, to the point Lucerys felt bitter jealousy like a kid watching someone else play with his toy. He could not lose this silent competition over Haera; she was his to claim, announced in front of everyone.

"Our mother has requested your presence," Aemond said, his voice low and husky, like the rustling of leaves in an autumn breeze. "Shall I escort you to her chambers?" He extended his arm, inviting her to take it.

And Haera smiled, the sight so beautiful that it would inspire the finest painters for their masterpieces. She placed her hand on his arm, touching gently and lovingly, and he pulled her away from Lucerys to seethe in silence. As they walked away, Haera's eyes sneakily shifted back to look at the dark-haired prince through a blurred gaze, sparkling like diamonds in candlelight, their secret message clear as day: she knew the game they played, and she would not be swayed. Aemond was the one she wanted, and he was who she was going to get.

The entire family gathered in the grand dining room after the darkness of the night took over the once clear sky, forced out of their chambers to avoid each other since Rhaenyra’s kin arrived. Even the melodic notes of the music could not fill the space between the strained relationships or clear the thick tension of the room as they sat around the table.

The two sides of the family sat awkwardly in silence until the arrival of the King, carried in by his guards in an ornate chair that allowed him to move with ease. As he was placed in the centre of the gathering, between both sides of the family, Aemond's gaze darted to the far end of the table, where Haera had reluctantly taken her seat beside Lucerys. It had been their mother’s idea, her sullen expression telling him all he needed to know as her pouting lips and folded arms screamed defiance.

The king spoke, his wheezing voice piercing the air, the frail state of his body evident even as he rested in a seated position. He welcomed his heir and her family with genuine warmth between laboured breaths. Aemond’s mind wandered, tuning out the king as he spoke of the importance of family unity. But, as the king began to congratulate the newly formed alliances, he snapped back to the conversation. His stomach churned with disgust as their father praised Lucerys and Haera, his jaw clenched in frustration. He wasn't alone in his sentiment; Aegon, too, seemed put off by the king's flowery words, his eyes fixed on some point beyond the gathering.

Aegon couldn’t contain himself for much longer, pent-up frustration and anger simmering like a pot about to boil. His eyes darted around the room, meeting Haera’s as he looked at the faces of his family. Though her vision was blurry, she could make out the wink he sent her way, tilting his head towards the young prince beside him.

“Well done, Jace. You’ll finally get to lie with a woman.” He was a master at pushing his buttons. He took great pleasure in witnessing his reactions, his face reddening with each carefully crafted comment that would leave him fuming and frustrated, like a shaky vial of Wildfire ready to explode. “You do know how the act is done, I assume... like, where to put your cock.”

“Let it be, cousin.” Baela did her best to manage the situation before the two boys escalated it.

However, Aegon continued; this time he addressed her instead, "I... regret the disappointment you are soon to suffer.” The young man gave her a pitiful look; the drunken joke was clear in his amethyst eyes: “But if you ever wish to know what it is to be well satisfied, all you have to do is ask.”

Everyone was jolted out of their casual chatter as Jace’s fist thundered down on the wooden table, the sound like a crack of lightning, and all eyes darted to the source to find him springing up from his seat. He gave Aegon’s shoulder a tight, almost brutal squeeze but then gave a playful punch to his arm. He then strode around the table with heavy footsteps and offered his hand to Aegon’s sister-wife, Helaena.

There was a sudden spike in tension, as if there was room for any more, as Jace boldly trespassed into forbidden territory. The King, in agony, remained oblivious to the rift between the members of the royal family, his sentimental gaze fixed on the unfolding drama until his frail health betrayed him, forcing him to be escorted back to his chambers for a dose of much-needed medicine.

The servants emerged from the kitchen with steaming plates of food, momentarily easing the bubbling tension that set over the family, calming their sharp glares at each other. During the bustle, one kind-hearted servant, unaware of the significance of her actions, placed the largest, most impressive plate in front of Aemond—a massive, glistening pig', its beady eyes staring up at him like a haunting spectre from his tormented childhood.

Lucerys did not miss the way Aemond’s gaze shifted momentarily, and he let out a snort, his own dark eyes shining with mockery.

As the room fell silent, Aemond's hand came crashing down on the table to get their attention, the sound echoing through the chambers like a challenge. He rose from his seat with his cup in his hand, holding it up to toast. Everyone turned to face him, their hands tightening around their cups of wine as if bracing for an impact that would rival Vhagar’s powerful landing, eyes fixed on the one-eyed prince as his voice boomed through the hall, "Final tribute."

“To the health of my nephews: Jace, Luke, and Joffrey.

Each of them handsome,

wise,

strong.

Come!

Let us drain our cups to these three... strong... boys.”

The fragile vial of wildfire shattered, releasing the fury of the young princes as they jumped to their feet, determined to defend their honour, no matter who witnessed it. Jace moved wildly at Aemond, landing a blow to his face, who barely staggered backwards. Meanwhile, Aegon shoved Lucerys headfirst into an empty plate. The guards hesitated, taking a second too long to intervene and separate the boys, allowing the drama to unfold as the frantic mothers rushed onto the scene, their worried cries piercing the air.

Aemond's voice resonated through the air as Haera rushed towards the group that formed, her grip on her mother's shoulders tight with concern. Her older brothers stood before her, their faces tense with anger but their bodies relaxed. Jace's swift punch had left its mark after all—a small gash on the corner of Aemond's lip, a dark bruise starting to spread over his skin. "I was merely expressing how proud I am of my family, Mother," Aemond said, his words dripping with sarcasm as he gazed at Haera. The real insult, however, lay in his next sentence: "Though it seems my nephews aren't quite as proud of theirs, an unlikely match for my sister."

The family was dismissed, and each of them was sent away to enjoy their dinners in each of their chambers.

The flickering flame in front of Aemond captivated him, his gaze fixed on the gentle rhythm of the dancing fire. Time had passed since the tumultuous events of dinner, and he had yet to return to his chambers, finding himself in Haera’s safe library instead as he tried to ease the disgust that still lingered in his stomach. He waited for a long time to make sure everyone had returned to their chambers for sleep to avoid having anyone see him visit his beloved in her chambers.

But before he could act, the creaking of old hinges shattered the silence, and his eye darted instinctively to the source, finding no other than his girl, Haera, seemingly coming to fetch him. His heart immediately picked up the pace at the angelic sight.

Her cloud-like hair was elegantly pulled up by a soft braid, and her slender body was delicately wrapped in the rich velvet she was accustomed to wearing to bed. Only a thin, embroidered coat rested over her shoulders, tied at the front of her chest with a delicate silk cord, covering her modestly yet radiating an aura of luxury.

The gentle smile he always saved for her tugged on his lips, the book he had been holding slipping from his hands and forgotten in the excitement of her arrival. "Haera," he whispered, his voice full of affection, as he welcomed her. The young princess sighed in relief, the tension in her shoulders finally released. Her soft eyes caressed the contours of his familiar face. "I was looking for you, brother," she said, her voice tinged with worry. Why did you leave your chambers?” The words hung in the air as if she had been searching for him everywhere, her heart heavy with anticipation.

“I needed some time to myself.” He muttered, his eyes fixed on the floor as she approached him, stopping only in front of the chair where he sat with an air of exhaustion. Now that she had moved closer, she could see the purplish bruise on the corner of his lips more clearly in his swirl of colours, and something shifted in her stomach, stirring of concern. He was leaning back on the backrest, his legs splayed out before him, signalling a sense of comfort. His coat, discarded on the floor next to him, and the leather jacket, unbuttoned and open, revealed his plain cotton undershirt. She had never seen him in such a vulnerable state, somehow so at peace after the fiery argument he had sparked with their family, like a stormy sky clearing.

Aemond noticed how her eyes travelled over his figure, absorbing every detail, and his hand motioned for her to get closer to him to take a step into his quiet world. He would have gladly slid over to allow her some space next to him and enjoy the warmth of her company. Still, she might have interpreted it differently, as she lifted herself over the cushion to sit sideways on his lap instead, her movement sudden and fluid, taking place over him as she had always belonged there.

Somehow, courage had taken over her, building from the adrenaline of dinner; if her brothers were capable of such, she was as well. Haera had promised herself that her secret would remain locked away, especially now that she was a betrothed woman, yet witnessing Aemond’s distress over the impending union with Lucerys Velaryon and the impassioned speech he delivered at dinner had ignited a fire within her. A dormant aspect of her character had awakened, a part she never knew existed. This newfound sensation felt distinct, like the first crackle of autumn leaves. It felt exhilarating and empowering. With deliberate intent, she had taken over his lap, her legs dangling off his side, her side pressed flush against his chest, and her hands settled upon his shoulders, claiming him as her own.

Aemond’s vision blurred, everything around him dissolving into nothingness as his mind came to comprehend what was happening—her gentle pressure against him. The scent of her sweet skin, a blend of flowers, enveloped him, making his senses reel. She flushed a deep crimson, her bold facade crumbling beneath a wave of embarrassment, her cheeks burning. His hands trembled with longing, hovering above her hips as if touching her would shatter her and make her disappear forever. "Sweet girl," his voice was low and husky, his throat parched as the desert. "What are you doing?" The words were barely above a whisper, a struggling sound, as if speaking too loudly would banish the moment's magic.

She responded with silence, her unsteady gaze on him, eyes narrowing to clear her vision. The proximity served them like her magnifying glass, bringing him into sharp focus. She was drawn to the subtle curve of his eyebrows, the slight crook of his nose, and the sharp cut of his chin. Her eyes lingered on the corner of his lips, where the faint imprint of the punch had turned into a delicate purple bruise, barely staining his skin. Without thinking, she reached up, her fingertips lightly tracing its edge. The gentle touch sent a shiver through Aemond's body, and he sucked in a breath, caught off guard by the sudden intimacy of the gesture.

She had touched him before, gentle and hesitating as she searched for his hand, arm, or shoulder to rest her head on, but that was not with the same intensity or intimacy as now. Her touch was a spark, setting his body aflame, a drive that propelled him forward with a motivation that came from the desire to be worthy of her.

Haera’s skin felt strange, her body shifting from hot to cold and back to hot again while his hands finally came to rest on her waist, his slender fingers digging softly into the thin material of her nightgown. The voices in her head took to a contradictory choir, some screaming at her to feel more of him and the other trying to force her away, but a side was stronger and yearned to feel every inch of him, to be consumed by his presence, and for him to realise she would forever be his. The marriage to another man was nothing for her. She would forever be bound to him in her heart, and no contract or agreement could change that.

Her curiosity got the better of her, and she leaned forward, her lips brushing against the corner of his mouth in a hesitant, gentle touch. It would be her first kiss if she had pressed herself fully over his, and her inexperience in the intimacy of her touch was too evident in the way she just pushed against his skin, unsure of how to proceed. The gesture was so sweet and innocent, yet it almost sent him over the edge with a surge of heat, causing his desire to wrestle with his sense of restraint. His mind was a battleground, torn between the purity of her intention and the depravity of his own desires, as he felt the softness of her lips tantalisingly close to the spot where he wanted her to be, to devour her.

But Aemond was a gentleman; he cared for her feelings, so he refused to push her into anything she was not ready for and instead let her take the lead, allowing her to explore and discover the sensations at her own pace.

Haera pulled back with wide, innocent eyes that sparkled with the surprise of the burning sensation on her lips, covering them with her hands as the tingling was left behind. She looked unsatisfied, her curiosity still burning bright, but she didn't know how to ask the questions she wanted to. So she tried again, her lips finally pressing squarely over his in a chaste, exploratory kiss before pulling back to gauge his reaction. She repeated this once, twice, and three times as she peppered kisses over his lips, each time pulling back to look at him with her beautiful eyes.

He realised she was testing him, watching how he responded to her touch. Aemond smiled, his grip on her waist tightening to hold her in place. “Go ahead.” He muttered, a voice reserved just for her. "You can keep going." The words were an invitation, a permission to explore, and he could sense her hesitation dissipating as she leaned in again, her lips a whisper away from his.

The next time they touched, he leaned in to meet her halfway, brushing against hers with a guiding touch to encourage her to follow his lead and discover the warmth of a real kiss, one between lovers. She immediately mirrored his movements with the soft, tender pressure when his lips danced across hers. As she tilted her head, the kiss slowly gained intensity, and she felt herself becoming lost in the sensation, the heat taking over her lower body as her desire for him grew. Despite her initial uncertainty with him, she felt an innate knowing, as if she had been kissing him all her life.

The kiss deepened, and she felt herself melting into him as the flame grew within her, body moulding to his and pressing heavily against his thighs underneath her legs. Aemond's hand cradled the back of her head, taking control of the kiss, his passion for her growing with every passing moment. His hunger was palpable, and she felt herself responding, drawn to him like a winged insect to a funeral pyre, the world around them fading into insignificance.

His tongue darted out to press itself against her lips, a gentle invitation that she accepted with boldness, granting him entrance to her mouth. He slid inside, his hot muscle caressing hers tenderly as the kiss escalated from their tongues intertwining, sending shivers down their spines as they set into a passionate rhythm with their kiss. At first, her body had stiffened, unfamiliar with the sensation, but he persisted, his gentle prodding wearing down her defences. Soon, she found herself melting into the embrace, her senses surrendering to the intensity of the moment. It was as if her entire being had been submerged in a cauldron of molten lava.

The world around her began to fade, leaving only the two of them, lost in the vortex of their passion. The air was heavy, alive with the promise of what could be, and she felt herself getting swept away by the sheer force of his desire. The kiss was no longer just a meeting of lips but a fusion of bodies that left her gasping for air yet craving more. She started to feel the overwhelming pressure of release, and her body began to sway over him, seeking for something.

Aemond's senses grew heightened as the darkness within him began to unfurl, a dragon awakening from a deep slumber. With each deliberate roll of her hips, the danger escalated, threatening to engulf him. The thoughts swirling in his mind were primal, raw, and completely consumed by the proximity of her body to his. She had surrendered completely to him, pressing her small form against him on the worn couch, her arms wrapped tightly over his shoulders. The light of the room seemed to fade into nothing as Aemond's focus narrowed to the rhythmic movement of her hips as she began to squirm over him, the gentle pressure of her body, and the sweet curve of her neck as his hands began to travel over her body, feeling her form under his rough palms.

His mind wandered, consumed by the forbidden thought: could he claim her innocence? The notion sent a searing flame through his gut, fuelled by the knowledge that she was promised to another for political alliances, someone devoid of honour and talent. Another would never cherish her like he could, never adore her like he would. Aemond, a man of substance, could provide her with everything her heart desired. He would mount Vhagar, his majestic dragon, and fetch the moon itself if that's what she yearned for.

Yet he resisted the temptation to take her on that chair, despite the alluring sight of her sitting over him, her barely covered body pressing against him, unknowingly seeking pleasure as she rocked herself over him. She merited more than a fleeting passion; she deserved to be cherished and worshipped. The chair limited him to mere sensations—the feel of her skin, the rhythm of her movements, the sweetness of her taste. He needed to be patient to witness the moment she discovered true pleasure for the first time.

Perhaps if he were her first—the first to touch her, to feel her, to take her maidenhead—he would leave an indelible mark on her soul. She would remember him forever, even on her wedding night and the following nights. Even without the most intimate of touches, she had awakened a deep longing within him that he couldn't ignore. He yearned to be the one to ignite the flames of true pleasure within her and to hear her soft, velvety voice whisper his name in rapturous surrender. The thought of another person claiming the right to shatter her, to push her to the limits, and to witness her stunning features twisted in ecstasy was unbearable. She would see him, not some other man, in her mind's eye. Maybe she would gaze upon her firstborn child and imagine what a child with him would look like—a Valyrian offspring with snow-white hair and piercing purple eyes. The thought tormented him, a sweet temptation that echoed through his being.

He refused to let the beast win—that beast that wanted to break her innocence over a pathetic chair, as tempting as she was in her sheer gown. Instead, he encircled her waist with his arms and drew her nearer, their lips parting with the most lustful sound as they pulled apart to breathe, a translucent string of saliva still connecting their mouths. She let herself fall over him, her head resting on his shoulder as she struggled to catch her breath. The love he harboured for her was a tidal wave, threatening to engulf him at any moment, but having her close and feeling her warmth and weight in his embrace was a balm to his troubled mind. It was as if the world, with all its cares and worries, receded, leaving only the two of them, lost in the silence of their own private universe.

Nothing could prepare them for what would come next.

ᡣ𐭩 ─ author's note ;

i HATE this chapter lol. i feel like it's so much of the show content that i didn't really play around with more stuff, but at least i added an alone moment with lucerys and finally a moment with aemond at the end, to help spice things a little bit before that inevitable chapter where everything goes to shit.

as i think i have said before, this is not a story that will continue with the show or books, so after chapter three there will only be two more chapters remaining and i'm planning for the last one to be almost no-plot smut, since that is what this series was originally. i have added the posibilities to little "spin-offs" one shots in the masterlist and if everything goes right i will go through with them but after i'm done posting other content.

i apologize for any mistakes in grammar or something, i did not have much time for editing but i'm hoping that it gets better by the next chapters! i'm definitely trying to pull my big guns for the last two chapters for sure.

a big question; should i cover blood & cheese completely, or let it be something that happens in the background and is not written down? it will happen, and it will be referenced, i just don't know if i want to write it all going down.

chapter two; Sunday 10th. ╰⪼ thank you for reading!

#ᡣ𐭩 #─ sweetling.#aemond targaryen #prince aemond targaryen #original character #hotd #house of the dragon #asoiaf #aemond x reader #aemond one eye

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tokidokitokyo · 8 months ago

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千葉県

Japanese Prefectures: Kantō - Chiba

都道府県 (とどうふけん) - Prefectures of Japan

Learning the kanji and a little bit about each of Japan’s 47 prefectures!

Kanji・漢字

千　ち、セン　thousand

葉　は、ヨウ　leaf, lobe

県　ケン　prefecture

関東　かんとう　Kantō, region consisting of Tokyo and surrounding prefectures

Prefectural Capital (県庁所在地) : Chiba City (千葉市)

Chiba lies on the Bōsō Peninsula on the east coast of Tokyo Bay, about 20 miles (30 km) southeast of central Tokyo, and boasts many international facilities such as Narita International Airport, known as the gateway to Japan); Makuhari Messe, one of the most prominent convention centers in Asia; Kazusa DNA Research Institute, a world leader in cutting edge research; and Tokyo Disney Resort, with two theme parks that draw in 30 million patrons each year. It also boasts beaches for swimming, surfing, and diving and was the location for the first Olympic surfing games. Historically, Chiba was a castle town controlled by the Chiba family in the 12th–15th century, and during the Edo (Tokugawa) period (1603–1867) it served as a post-station town for several major roads. After the construction of a railway connecting it to Tokyo, the town began to grow in the second half of the 19th century.

Recommended Tourist Spot・おすすめ観光スポット Mt Nokogiri - 鋸山

Mt. Nokogiri - Hyaku-Shaku Kannon carved into stone cliff

Mt. Nokogiri is named for the zigzag shape of a traditional handsaw that its topography resembles. Along with Mt. Kanozan and Mt. Kiyosumi, Mt. Nokogiri is one of Chiba's three most famous mountains. It stands at 330 meters high and features a grand lookout point as well as a temple complex containing one of Japan's largest Buddhas. The mountain is bare granite and has been a quarry since the Edo Period, providing stones for many of Tokyo's most iconic sites, such as Yasukuni Shrine and Waseda University. You can reach the top by an easy hike or via a ropeway to the top. Hell Lookout (地獄のぞき) is a lookout point at the top of the mountain that hangs over the edge of the cliff and offers a stunning view of Tokyo Bay, the Pacific Ocean, and the distant forests and hills of the Boso Peninsula, and on clear days, Mt. Fuji.

At the southern base of Mt. Nokogiri is Nihonji Temple (日本寺), an officially designated Important Cultural Property. There's a stairway leading from the top of the mountain down to the vast, picturesque Soto Zen Buddhist temple that dates back 1300 years and is still used to train young monks today. A giant daibutsu, or Buddha statue, is carved into the granite on the side of Mt. Nokogiri about midway up the mountain. It is 31 meters high and one of Japan's largest Buddhas, even larger than Kamakura's famous daibutsu at Kotokuin Temple. The statue was built to pray for world peace and most of the statue was carved over three years beginning in 1780.

In addition to the giant daibutsu, there are around 1500 small statues of various Buddhist deities around the temple grounds. Unfortunately, many of the smaller statues were beheaded during the anti-Buddhist movement that accompanied the Meiji Restoration, but there are ongoing efforts to repair them. This part of Nihonji was a spiritual sanctuary built over 21 years in the 18th century by craftsman Ono Kangoro and his students. Towards the top of the mountain stands a 30-meter tall Hyaku-Shaku Kannon, depicting the Buddhist Goddess of Mercy. Carved in 1966 into a stone cliff, it is dedicated to those who died in wars, of sickness or in accidents. The Kannon is also worshiped as a protector of transportation due to its protected location surrounded by rocks.

Regional Cuisine - 郷土料理 Sangayaki - さんが焼き

Sangayaki (source)

Namerou and sangayaki are well-known Chiba dishes, especially along the Bōsō Peninsula. Namerou (なめろう) is a dish usually made of minced horse mackerel and sardine mixed with miso, perilla leaves, and leek. When grilled and wrapped in perilla leaves, it is called sangayaki (さんが焼き). The name "namerou" may have come from the fact that namerou is so good that you want to lick your plate clean (nameru means to lick). The name "sangayaki" may be from the fact that the fishermen ate the dish along a river tributary, or sanga, and the word yaki means to grill (like yakisoba or yakitori). Namerou can be cooked in other ways, such as being shaped and grilled like a burger, or being coated in breadcrumbs and fried.

Chiba Dialect・Chiba no hougen・千葉の方言

Note: Chiba dialect is sometimes called Bōsō-ben (房総弁), after the peninsula. Chiba dialect is actually a family of three dialects: Bōshū-ben (房州弁), Tōsō-ben 東総弁, and Noda-ben (野田弁).

Bōshū-ben (房州弁)

1. おいねえ　oinee　not good

はしけえでおいねえや (hashikee de oinee ya)

Standard Japanese: かゆくていけないよ (kayukute ikenai yo)

English: This itches so badly

2. くわっせえ　kuwassee　please eat (command)

ばーさんほら、わーかでいーがらくわっせぇよ (baa-san hora, wa-ka de iigara kuwassei yo)

Standard Japanese: おばあさんほら、少しでいいから召し上がってよ (obaasan hora, sukoshi demo ii kara meshi agate yo)

English: Grandma, come on, please just eat a little bit

3. やんべえ　yanbee　health; condition (often used in a greeting)

いいやんべえだねえ (ii yanbee da nee)

Standard Japanese: こんにちは (konnichiwa)

English: Hello; Good day (lit. "you are in good health today")

Tōsō-ben 東総弁

1. あじょうだぁ　ajyou daa　how is it

あじょうだぁ？ (ajyou daa?)

Standard Japanese: どうですか？　(dou desu ka?)

English: How is it?

2. ねっけぇ　nekkee　warm

今日はずいぶんとねっけぇね (kyou wa zuibun to nekkee ne)

Standard Japanese: 今日はずいぶんと暖かいね (kyou wa zuibun to atatakai ne)

English: Today is fairly warm, isn't it?

3. わんらー　wanraa　you (informal, not very polite)

わんらーよー！んなことやってねーよ！ (wanraa you! 'n na koto yatte nee yo!)

Standard Japanese: あなたねえ！そんな事しないでよ！ (anata nee! sonna koto shinai de yo!)

English: Hey you! Stop doing that!

Noda-ben (野田弁)

1. こわい　kowai　difficult, taxing, bothersome

風邪ひいででまーだこわいだよなぁ (kaze hiide de maa-da kowai da yo naa)

Standard Japanese: 風邪を引いていてまだ身体がだるいんだよね　(kaze wo hiite ite mada karada ga daruin da yo ne)

English: I have a cold and my body still feels listless

2. はらくち　harakuchi　full

はらくちだよなぁ (harakuchi da yo naa)

Standard Japanese: お腹いっぱいだよね (onaka ippai da yo ne)

English: I'm full

3. やっこら　yakora　soon

やっこらいくべ (yakora iku be)

Standard Japanese: そろそろいこうか (sorosoro ikou ka)

English: Shall we go soon?

#japanese prefectures #日本語 #japanese #japanese language #japanese langblr #langblr #studyblr #都道府県 #千葉県 #chiba

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acourtofquestions · 5 months ago

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The summer days grew cooler the farther north they rode. Evangeline, to her credit, kept pace with them, never complaining about having to sleep on a bedroll night after night. She seemed perfectly happy to curl up with Fleetfoot, her new protector and loyal friend.

Lysandra used the journey to test out her abilities--sometimes flying with Rowan overhead, sometimes running as a pretty black dog alongside Fleetfoot, sometimes spending days in her ghost leopard form and pouncing on Aedion whenever he least expected it.

Three weeks of grueling travel- -but also three of the happiest weeks Aelin had ever experienced.

They crested the hill and halted.

Aelin released the reins and took a staggering step, the emerald grass soft underfoot.

Aedion touched her shoulder. "Welcome home, Aelin."

A land of towering mountains--the Staghorns--spread before them, with valleys and rivers and hills; a land of untamed, wild beauty.

Terrasen.

And the smell--of pine and snow... How had she never realized that Rowan's scent was of Terrasen, of home? Rowan came close enough to graze her shoulder and murmured, "I feel as if I've been looking for this place my entire life."

Indeed--with the wicked wind flowing fast and strong between the gray, jagged Staghorns in the distance, with the dense spread of Oakwald to their left, and the rivers and valleys sprawling toward those great northern mountains--it was paradise for a hawk. Paradise for her.

"Right there," Aedion said, pointing to a small, weather-worn granite boulder carved with whorls and swirls. "Once we pass that rock, we're on Terrasen soil."

Not quite daring to believe she wasn't still asleep, Aelin walked toward that rock, whispering the Song of Thanks to Mala Fire-Bringer for leading her to this place, this moment.

Aelin ran a hand over the rough rock, and the sun-warmed stone tingled as if in greeting.

Then she stepped beyond the stone.

And at long last, Aelin Ashryver Galathynius was home.

images credit: Scribe.Jesinia Artwork

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heliopauseentertainments · 9 months ago

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An Unfamiliar Battlefield

Anonymously requested here on Tumblr

Continuity: IDW1 (roughly)

Relationship: Megatron/Hot Rod

Characters: Megatron & Hot Rod

Rating: Teen

Warnings/Notes: AU of an AU, Canon Blending, Past Relationships, Referenced Character Death, Romance, Recovery from Grief, Vignette

Crossposting: AO3 | Dreamwidth

Summary: In which a seemingly unqualified suitor vies for the open Lord Protector position for the Prime of Destruction.

Fic below cut.

Small. Thin armor. Loud paint. Incautious gait.

Megatron could have crumpled him like a frail sheet of foil if he so chose.

Yet in front of him, posed confidently with his hands on his hips at the foot of the impractically tall dark granite dais, beamed some red little fool the herald had introduced as “Hot Rod of Nyon.” Given the obnoxious flames painted on his chest, Megatron thought the mech’s name was a little on the nose.

This scrawny fool, apparently, wanted to be the Lord Protector of the alleged incarnation of Destruction itself. What a ridiculous thought.

Since Orion, Megatron’s previous Lord Protector, had succumbed to early onset cybercrosis more than three decades ago, Megatron had spent most of his time alone.

He, in fact, intended to keep it that way.

Watching his partner waste away against an invisible foe had been more of a punishment than being forcibly ascended to a position of ritualized shame and fear for his crimes had ever been.

The ritual mourning periods of seven months, then thirty months, and then a decade had all passed. The generals and officers who made up his “priesthood”—more like a religious militia meant to keep him in check—hadn’t pressed him to take another protector before the formalized markers of grieving had been reached. It wouldn’t have been proper, for all they, his prison wardens, pretended to care about propriety even when their “Prime” still lit decennial memorial lamps.

Megatron, regardless of his own opinions on the matter, was kept around solely for the fulfillment of ancient laws and summoning his strength in times of war. The First Prime was nominally the Prime of War, but Sentinel spent far too much time playing politician, leaving Megatron as the de facto holder of the purview.

It wasn’t as though he needed protection, not physically. He could protect himself, as was obvious from the battlefields they pleaded that he would drench in spilled fuel, like the arena of banal bloodsport they had unilaterally plucked him from. When Megatron had turned the rare suitor away before, the battle clerics hadn’t objected too strongly.

Usually.

Besides, it wasn’t as though suitors were commonplace. Not many were lining up to consort with a “deity” of death, forced to use his violence as a tool for theocratic control. Orion, before his untimely death, had been an irreplaceable exception. No one is else would or could ever take that place again; it would never be the same.

Starscream, the general who oversaw all the others who allegedly paid Megatron homage, was a sharp-eyed mech with innumerable half-spoken agendas. He relished being what passed for this "Prime's" high priest, chief jailer rather. This was clearly part of some of his machinations.

He stood, smirking, next to Megatron’s throne, arms crossed in front of his chest. His gleaming white wings were held out wide as he swayed side to side, not-so-subtly trying to make his heavily embroidered cape undulate in the artificial breeze.

“Starscream, this is unnecessary,” Megatron said, hunched over with his elbows against his knees. He glowered down at Hot Rod. “You know this is unnecessary.”

Hot Rod was hardly much bigger than one of Soundwave’s mini-bots, who were generally relegated to sabotage work as a result. A Lord Protector, expected to accompany him into the heat of battle, could never be allowed to fill a less combat-oriented position. Hot Rod would end up as little more than shrapnel littering the battlefield.

“Come now,” Starscream said, his slick grin stretched broad. It barely concealed that he was up to something, a fig leaf of pious duty. “It’s been so long since you’ve kept any company but your own.”

They both knew the other role a Lord Protector fulfilled: controlling the sacred monster.

“He’s not—“

"You've been lonely, absorbed in nothing but your work for far too long."

Starscream, of course, would be eager to have someone once more take up that mantle… for the approval of the public rather than practical necessity, given Megatron’s self discipline. That was likely why he had allowed this fragile mech to even put forward a petition. Any tether at all was better for their reputation than a beast with no leash.

“I’m right here!” Hot Rod, speaking for the first time, brazenly put his foot on the lowest step on the dark dais and smacked his tiny fist against his chest. His beaming grin became a frown at the perceived disrespect. “Don’t talk about me like I’m not here.”

What a rude little mech.

Talking out of turn, ascending the dais uninvited…. No self preservation to be had. The distance was supposed to be for the protection of any visitors, in case the “god” lost control. More time for the jailers masquerading as devotees to restrain him if the Lord Protector didn’t get there first.

This Hot Rod was clearly on some elaborate suicide mission for some reason. This was far more effort than most would bother putting towards such an end; there were doubtlessly easier ways to go about it.

“Just how badly do you want to die?”

“Not at all, actually.” Hot Rod didn’t back down, a determined look set on his face. “A big shocker, I know.”

Not the answer Megatron had expected, not that mechs tended to be forthright about their deathwishes.

“What exactly is your purpose here?”

“Surely, that’s self-evident.” Starscream’s opinions, as usual, were unnecessary so Megatron ignored him.

He merely repeated the question to Hot Rod, who had begun climbing the dais as though he thought he’d been given some sort of invitation. His bright paint was a stark contrast to the stone, black as the void, giving the impression of a rising star.

Some of the officers, all armed with guns and blades, stationed at various points up the steps began to shift, bristling with unease at the blatant disregard of norms. Several stepped forward, as though to get in the intruder’s way.

Megatron gestured for them to take no action.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure it’s obvious what I’m here for.” Brow furrowed, Hot Rod continued scaling the dais, stepping past the officers as though they were harmless bystanders. Armor clattered in the quiet hall as they made way for him.

Hot Rod’s bravery reminded him somewhat of Orion.

Orion had not climbed to meet him, no, but had lain down his weapons on the floor of the hall and had challenged Megatron unarmed combat.

Hot Rod too was challenging him in a way, but why?

Megatron silently let him approach.

Starscream whispered a reminder to mind his manners, as though he were some uncouth newbuild courting for the first time.

If only Starscream didn’t have wings…. Megatron occasionally considered pushing him off the side of the platform.

Once Hot Rod reached the top level, he stopped just within arm’s reach of the throne.

Megatron leaned forward, as far as he could without overbalancing. Seated, he was at Hot Rod’s eye level.

“What do you gain by asking this?”

Hot Rod’s bright smile was back, this time as a smirk, like he thought Megatron was joking.

“What do you lose by letting me?”

Smart aleck.

“Why are you determined to die?”

“I’m not.” Hot Rod shrugged, as though that were the obvious answer despite all evidence to the contrary.

“So you’ve said before, yes, but that’s the only outcome at the end of the path you’re trying to walk.”

“That’s my business, I think.”

Stubborn.

“So be it.”

Huffing, Megatron waved Starscream over without looking at him. The clicking of thruster heels against black granite told him that the high “priest” had obeyed.

“Yes?” he purred, clearly pleased with himself. He was getting what he had wanted after all.

“Have him trained. Presuming he survives, schedule the ceremony.”

#fic #one shot #maccadam #idw1 #mtmte #megatron #rodimus #megarod #hot rod

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devotedsims · 1 year ago

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introducing julie “jules” baird for @loveryss embracing erin bachelorette!

jules has lived her whole life in granite falls, with nature at her door step. she has all the inner wild spark that comes from being allowed to roam free in the woods. she is a fierce protector of those she loves, and she will go to any lengths to show her loyalty. she can be very messy at times, she just truly doesn’t mind getting her hands dirty. anyhoo, she hopes that erin is ready to have a great time during the bachelorette, jules is very excited!

her traits are self assured, slob, and loyal

she loves the color green, americana music, talking about her hobbies, country style and nectar making!

she dislikes winter holiday music, pessimistic sims, and cross stitch.

download here

#ts4 #embracingerinbc #hope you like her!!

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alltimefail-sims · 7 months ago

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/alltimefail-sims/748883412368179200/i-thought-what-you-said-about-using-granite-falls?source=share where would you put forgotten hallow and glimmerbrook?

Again, not 1:1 here, but I personally imagine Forgotten Hollow would be in a state like Massachusetts/Connecticut/Delaware. I'm a history nerd at heart, and due to the Colony lore surrounding Vlad I can't help but personally headcanon Forgotten Hollow as a part of the original 13 British colonies. Anywhere in here would work:

Knowing what we know about Glimmerbrook, the (alluded to be) original Mesopotamian-adjacent spellcasters, and the accidental invention of vampires, we can confidently say that spellcasters predate their companion occults by a significant margin. Because of this, I see the OG Spellcasters as existing most prominently all over the Eastern part of the world (Europe, Asia, Africa, etc.), but not specifically central to any one area. They've had lots of time to travel and expand their kind for one thing, but also I think magic comes in all different forms and therefore is just accessible to every person/place/culture/ethnicity/etc. You get the idea!

For me, Glimmerbrook has always felt more like a place a lot of spellcasters fled to after the initial magical war, not a place of origin for their occult type. But as for where it is specifically in our real world, I group Glimmerbrook, Windenburg, and Henford together and would palce them all somewhere in central/western Europe!

But again, I don't think Spellcasters as a whole are isolated to one location! In my mind, the "newer" an occult is, the less likely you are to find them outside of their "source location" that houses peers of their same condition. This is why Werewolves, being the newest of the three, are still mainly based in Moonwood Mill and why the oldest and most prominent vampire clans are still located in Forgotten Hollow but do have a few other established clans that have branched out elsewhere (in places like San Myshuno, my NYC adjacent world, for example).

Because spellcasters are just sort of everywhere, I imagine there are well-hidden entrances to the magic realm all over the world and various ways to access the magic relam that don't require you to go to the portal in Glimmerbrook or any portal for thag matter - thus the stone they cary around, for example. Glimmerbrook just happens to have the largest and most obvious entrance because it was really never meant to be there in the first place! The Glimmerbrook portal is the remaining evidence of the spellcasters who had to make a hasty escape in the realm explosion and ultimately created a tear of that size in our world. There was no thought behind the location, the tear was just the result of a quick escape, thus why the location of Glimmerbrook has little to do with how spellcasters behave, speek, look, and so on. This would also explain why no one lives in the magic realm any more, and why Glimmerbrook is so unremarkably magical in its appearance by comparison. Today the Glimmerbrook portal is protected and monitored by the sages and other high ranking "protectors," but by and large Spellcasters have come and gone from Glimmerbrook over the years with no issue and no attachment. Some spellcasters weren't even in the magic realm, nor did they live there, when the explosion happened! Although some families have chosen to stay in order to be closer to the realm's entrance and their family's history to the realm itself, for the most part it was never intended to be a place spellcasters would be forced to stay forever; they don't need to live in Glimmerbrook to find individuals like themselves, as they're all over the world!

I hope that all made sense and that I didn't get too redundant; again I don't want to get into the governances of the magical world that I've made up unless people are really interested haha, so I tried to keep this as short and concise as I could. As always feel free to ask for clarification! Thank you so much for this ask!!! ❤

#ts4 #simblr #ts4 lore #the sims 4 #sims 4 #ts4 spellcasters #ts4 vampires #ts4 werewolves #glimmerbrook #forgotten hollow #moonwood mill #ddseries #my lore #ts4 occult #atfs ask #anon

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firstdegreefangirl · 1 year ago

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I'll Come Visit Again

“Hey,” Lucy hesitates, suddenly nervous. “Uh, remember when I went out with that guy and you said that no one ever buys you flowers? Well … you can’t say that anymore.”

She sets the bouquet down in front of the engraved granite slab, then lowers herself to sit on the grass in front of it. With one finger, she traces slowly over the letters.

Beloved son. Faithful friend. Fierce protector.

“This is weird, huh? I never had to worry about not knowing what to say to you.” Lucy takes a deep breath. “I just … hadn't visited in a while. And I’ll cut to the chase. I should leave a $20 for you too, but it’s a little windy.” She laughs.

“You, uh, you called it. With me and Tim? Yeah, that’s a thing now. We’re … I dunno. It’s still new, but it feels good. He’s good to me. We’re good for each other, I think. Sometimes, it’s a little bit like I can hear you. Teasing us, mostly. You’d like this version of Tim; it’s not like when I was a rookie.”

Read the rest on ao3 here

#katie writes #kw23 #chenford #lucy chen #tim bradford #jackson west #rip jackson #whumptober #whumptober 2023 #no. 19 #floral bouquet

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monarch-afterdark · 7 months ago

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Titan History: Behemoth

Welcome once again to Monarch: After Dark, the digital gateway between you and the organisation dedicated to understanding and navigating this troubled new world we live in.

For today's communication, as we begin exhausting the list of Titans we can provide extensive information on, we look to a friendly-ish face who grew very popular very quickly; the defender of the Amazon, Behemoth.

(Pictured above: News footage of a pacified Behemoth leaving Rio following the ORCA's activation, circa. 2019)

Monarch Database File: Behemoth

Monarch Designation: Titanus Behemoth

Height: 354 feet

Weight: 90,000 tons

Nature: Bio-Seismic

Behavioural Classification: Protector

-----

Also known by the name Mapinguari (a South American cryptid believed to resemble a Bigfoot/ground sloth cross), Behemoth was considered by some of those studying him to be the most interesting of all the Titans. A Titan that looks as powerful as his name implies, Behemoth resembles a cross between a ground sloth and a mammoth, armed with an imposing set of tusks, dense fireproof fur coating and spines of metal-fortified granite running down his back.

Behemoth's presence breeds new life wherever he travels, forests grow and flourish in his wake and his waste can be converted into an extremely effective fertilizer that can strengthen the very Earth's immune system. When Monarch makes the claim that the Titans are vital in restoring the natural order and healing our world, Behemoth is often the poster child of the effect the Titans can have.

(Pictured above: Footage captured of Behemoth using his tusks to ravage Rio de Janeiro, circa 2019)

While much of Behemoth's history is not known to us, it is noted that the Titan seems to share a rivalry with Amhuluk, the two having clashed many times before in the ancient past. Amhuluk and Behemoth's abilities appear to offset each other perfectly, preventing Behemoth from inadvertantly overwhelming the world with rainforests where rainforests shouldn't be.

Behemoth's awakening in 2019 during the Monster Zero crisis is notable, as his breach of containment was done so with the aid of Monarch operatives who sympathized with paleobiologist-turned-ecoterrorist Emma Russell. One member of Outpost 58, Mariko, had personally seen to the sabotage of the kill switch implemented within the outpost, preventing Monarch from being able to stop Behemoth's escape.

He went on a rampage through Rio de Janeiro shortly afterward, before being pacified by the ORCA activating in Boston. Behemoth was one of the few who had arrived to witness Godzilla's claim to Alpha status, and notably was the first Titan to arrive on the scene. Following this, Behemoth was noted as having regrown large swathes of the Amazon Rainforest, and the usefulness of his droppings was discovered not long after.

(Pictured above: Artisitic pinup of Behemoth in the Amazon, courtesy of Drew E. Johnson)

Toward the end of 2020, Behemoth had seemed to claim territory within the Amazon, but found himself locked in combat with Amhuluk. The opposing Titan managed to break off one of Behemoth's tusks and prepared to drown him in the river, but Godzilla's arrival and intervention stopped that from happening.

Behemoth quickly returned to a makeshift temple in the Amazon, crafted for him by the locals, which he seemed to be using as a resting place, and returned to dormancy not long after.

To date, no new activity from Behemoth since 2020 has been reported.

-----

And there you go! While Scylla and Tiamat appear to be the current subjects of most "Titan gossip" that goes on, Behemoth drew people's attention to him quite rapidly after his emergence and impact on the world was known. His fame grew to such an extent, that jokes among Monarch staff were often made about Behemoth and Kong having something akin to a friendship.

Until next time,

Monarch: After Dark

#monarch #monarch after dark #monsterverse #godzilla king of the monsters #godzilla kotm #behemoth #titanus behemoth #godzilla dominion #amhuluk #titanus amhuluk

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abbysimsfun · 4 months ago

Text

Sims In Bloom: Generation 1 Pt. 4 (Winter in Henford)

Winterfest was a relaxing day at home with a visit from Father Clement, just before Holly started walking and talking and getting into absolutely everything. She was so much wilder than independent, animal-loving Heather. Though well acquainted with the Pancake twins, Heather "Buttercup" Nesbitt's best friend was undoubtedly Ralph the dog, who took seriously his role as another protector to the second Nesbitt generation.

Daisy took an even more involved research role at work, submitting grants and watching over her daughters while hoping to achieve perfection in her own yard. She even grew a death flower, which bloomed with spiky black petals and burst with plants known to help stave off the reaper. Her second cowplant fared much better than her first, which impressed everyone in town even if they were scared to go near it.

Young River was a much more difficult baby than his older sisters, constantly blowing out his diapers and he almost never slept. He ran them ragged. Neal and Daisy took a nap together on an upstairs couch at the Gnome's Arms when they should have been sharing drinks, dancing, and celebrating Love Day, and they stopped talking about the possibility of a fourth kid; their little family of five was hectic enough. River needed so much attention, middle child Holly often felt like there was no attention left. Heather, on the other hand, could entertain herself for hours with brain games and math puzzles.

Neal's reputation for quality eco-design work earned him a promotion to tech scientist at work, spending hours drafting blueprints for his ideas. Daisy became a master of gardening and started growing rare and perfect plants; her reputation across town for the quality of her work was ever growing like her garden. She had at least a small hand in practically every yard in Henford, and some of the locals became her closest friends. Neal designed a recycled cardboard dollhouse, which Heather and Holly played with for hours on end. Holly named it Nesbeets House, which was how she said their last name – the Nesbeets. Even River was fascinated by the dollhouse, but by the time he was toddling around the house chasing after his older sisters, his favourite pastime was making Holly cry by tearing it down, no matter how often Neal tried to discipline him for it.

The family celebrated River's birthday in Neal's favourite place, Granite Falls, where he met an old hermit in a heavily overgrown valley under a waterfall. The spot was stunning, and even his toddlers could appreciate the wildlife. Animal-loving Heather proved to her parents she was responsible enough for a cat by getting an A in school, so they brought home an Egyptian Mau kitten named King Tut. Geeky Heather loved reading about ancient mummies and pharaohs in Shang Simla and their respect for cats, so she felt the name was only fitting and she and King Tut became fast friends, but Ralph was still number one in her life.

Would Daisy and Neal continue to progress in their careers while raising a happy and healthy family? ->

<- Previous Chapter | From the Beginning

#sims 4 #sims 4 gameplay #sims 4 screenshots #sims in bloom #gen 1 #henford on bagley #sims 4 legacy #ts4 #ts4 screenshots #sims 4 story #ts4 gameplay #ts4 legacy #ts4 story #granite falls

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artzychic27 · 1 year ago

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How about… Rochelle Goyle and original quotes with Nathaniel?

Alix: Hey, Nath. Rock Paper Scissors? One… Two… Three! *Does paper and puts her hand over his face* Paper beats rocks!

Nathaniel: *Sighs*

Alix: Hades, I thought that would crack you up.

—

Adrien: Oh. I guess gargoyles can’t swim, huh?

Nathaniel: No. I’d sink right to the bottom. But I bet it’s amazing!

—

Nathaniel: *After turning into a ghost* Now that I am weightless, there is something I just have to try… CANNONBALL! *Jumps into a pool*

—

Kim: I was going to say, why is that gargoyle destroying the roof?

Chloé: That’s… Also a good question.

Nathaniel: I don’t know. Gargoyles are born protectors. And fixing roofs is a big part of that. But this guys is… Crazy scary.

—

Nathaniel: Chloé! I don’t wanna walk into the ghoul’s restroom! You know you are not supposed to use the cursed amulets in school.

Chloé: But how am I supposed to pass biteology? By studying?

—

Kim: We don’t need a hall pass!

Nino: Dude, you’re our permanent hall pass.

Nathaniel: I cannot believe you would try to take advantage of me.

—

Marc: Nath, are you crying?

Nathaniel: … Yeah. I know I seem tough like granite, but honestly, I break much easier than talc.

—

Kim: We’re gonna crush those guys at Gargoyle Prep into pebbles!

Nathaniel: *Gasps*

Kim: I-I mean, we’ll make ‘em crack-

Nathaniel: Oh my God!

Kim: That slipped out! I’m sorry!

Ivan: Kim…

Kim: Uh… Something about erosion?

Nathaniel: Why don’t you just break off my wings and beat me with them?!

—

Nathaniel: Are you calling me fat?!

Nino: No! Not at all!

Nathaniel: I cannot help that I’m 370 pounds of pure granite!

Kim: Dude. Not cool.

Nino: You literally said you would throw your back out if you had to carry him again.

Nathaniel: WHAT?!

Kim: I… May have let that slip.

Nathaniel: … *Runs away crying*

Adrien: Smooth, guys.

—

Nathaniel: If I run and leap at Marc, he will most certainly catch me in his arms. *Runs toward Marc* Coming in!

Marc: No! I am holding coffee! *Drops his coffee and catches him*

Nathaniel: Sweetie, you have six arms, you didn’t need to throw your coffee.

—

Adrien: I don’t like this. I don’t like this.

Nino: Dude, will you chill? I swear on my stitches we’ll be fine.

Max: Nino, Nathaniel’s a light sleeper. He’ll surely catch us sneaking out at this hour of the night.

Nino: It’s all good-

Nathaniel: Ahem.

Nino: … He’s right behind us, isn’t he?

Ivan: He is.

Nino: … Nath… Please, do not scr-

Nathaniel: *Screeches*

@msweebyness @imsparky2002

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous #nathaniel kurtzberg #rochelle goyle #mlb au #school for monstrous youths #monster high #monster high au #answered ask #ask me stuff

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proudautisticcomrade · 2 years ago

Text

The many Skulls of the Lurid Crypt

I am one of the overseers (players) of this succession fortress organized by @dorfposting And I succeeded the Dwarf from @impossiblepackage first, then @jv to finally me. Here is my story of Ërtongnòm - Gerbilgod

First of Granite, year 152 in the fortress Ërtongnòm: Gerbilgod

After stumbling along searching for my mountain-home, I, overseer Erika, daughter of Hawks, found the fabled Ërtongnòm.

Two things about the fortress that caught my immediate attention was the impressive stockpile of foodstuff. A good abundance to ensure our citizens are well-fed. The other thing was the smell however…

Understanding the discomfort miasma would bring to a fortress, and with discomfort brings temper tantrums, I instructed our miners, the Dwarves Ber and Mistêm, to dig out the dumping pit a little deeper. A crude solution, but one that will suffice until magma becomes our servant.

And in ensuring that refuse and other garbage is to be dumped, I ordered the Dwarf Besmar Närèrith, our fisherdwarf, to specialize in trash collecting so that the only labor they are concerned about, other than fishing, is to ensure our fortress’ stink does not sicken us all. Then I asked Goden Shedlok the Herbalist to specialize hauling food, so that our carefully prepared meals do not go to spoil and spoil all of our moods.

Hopefully, the Dwarves’ other labors do not hinder their new found responsibilities too much.

11’th of Granite

An Elven caravan had just arrived on the morning. They didn’t carry too much, nor was anything too valuable, save the fruits, vegetables and nuts. I felt that the necessary course of action was to simply ignore our nature-protector friends. Afterall, our stockpiles are more than sufficient.

We would find better trading partners later in the year, I’m sure of it.

25’Th of Granite

Looking at the state of the Dwarven Bunks, I decided the best course of action, while the fortress was cleaning up, was to set up personal furniture for the dwarves, so they may have personal coffers to hang up their clothing or other objects of subjective value.

I have the dwarves use the available shale to set up these stone workshops, one will focus production on cabinets, the other on coffers, and the final one on doors.

With the abundance of Rock Salt, and my reluctance to use economic stone for anything other than steel production, I ordered the furniture to be made of rock salt. Not the best material in my not so humble opinion, but us Dwarves make do with what we got. Perhaps when we have more migrants come in, be it this year or the next, we may assign them masons to work specifically on these tasks. But for now, this is work available for anyone.

6’th of Slate

Besmar has been spotted working on refuse removal, yet, most times I spot her praying fervently to her Gods, meditating on their spheres of influence. Though I am not one to get in the way of others’ personal beliefs, I find her lack of work disturbing. Had I any extra laborers, surely this would be no issue, but I must rely on her solely to dump refuse without sacrificing the other Dwarves’ work.

I am happy to report that no complaints of miasma have been announced by any of the Dwarves. So at least we have that.

21’st of Slate

I spoke too soon about the Miasma situation, I turned a corner to check on the bunks, and I find the purple clouds of miasma torturing the animals. The remains of Crundles continue to rot as our dumper continues to pray.

1st of Felsite

Ask and ye shall receive. Migrants have arrived.

Now our humble fortress of 28 (including monster hunters) is boosted to a modest 59

More children arrived with their parents. Which means more haulers, which hopefully means more refuse dumping.

Now a new task was set forth, to house all these new workers, for our glorious fortress.

At Elevation Level: (-7) going downwards, I set up mining orders to rapidly set up new housing for the Dwarves as well as any bunks for future migrant waves.

11’th of Felsite

Let it be known, on this day, the farmers of Ërtongnòm have petitioned for a guildhall for the Farmer’s Guild named: “The Guild of Meadows”

In other news, I have switched the children’s chores away from most hauling activity to refuse hauling, in order to better streamline the sanitation process of the fortress. There are poor moods across the board so I hope the construction of the guild will help build the morale of the citizens.

I felt that in honor of a Dwarven Farmer’s Guild, the Hall itself could resemble that of a Plump Helmet. When the final touches of the fortress have been completed (Dug out, smoothed, with some furnishing), we will boast our finished product for all to see (on Tumblr).

22’nd of Felsite

May Lumnum, God of The Stars and Freedom, watch over us. A fearsome beast approaches.

The Worst of these troubles: we only just noticed this beast towards our gate (Because I was only notified as it transformed near our entrance). I pray that the monster hunters, with the aid of our cage traps, can defeat this creature before any of our citizens die, or worse, become infected.

I haphazardly set up a burrow called the Panic Room in the Oily Chestnut and a small space where the lever is so that a dwarf may press it before the monster can invade… hopefully.

23’rd of Felsite

Our Prayers are answered, Stinthäd Melbilastel, the were-lizard (and not a citizen btw) has worn off her transformation. Which now gives us ample ability to destroy her. Though I pity her and her curse, I cannot allow such a threat to exist near our fortress endangering our proud citizens and those lazy monster hunters who did nothing. I organized a small militia of Dwarves to deal with this threat. Even though we had no military equipment, we at least had numbers. Finally, with no casualty to us (no injuries or deaths) we walk off in mourning of this poor soul. The least we could do is engrave a slab in memoriam.

26’th of Felsite

I would like to personally congratulate comrade ‘jv’ for their victory in the fortress elections. You represent the will of the people, may you lead us to glory!

By the gods’ very flame, one of our children has been afflicted with a strange mood! I eagerly await the artifact young Urdim Cilobrulush will create!

They claimed one of the Craftdwarf workshops on the main floor, and has been seen hauling giant mole bones to their shop.

Five Days Later…

Finally, I turned my attention towards the merchants, and decided against purchasing any foods or such, but did trade for some leathers in bins. Having leather fashioned into cloaks, I believe, would give our military dwarves some extra protection.

3’rd of Malachite

A little outside the Tavern is the entranceway to the housing facilities for our Dwarves. Mud marks the path forward and I found it appropriate to till out some farm plots for more cavern diet variety. It completely slipped my mind to build additional bunks for so many new Dwarves. So I immediately worked to remedy that. I also started to commission more furnishing for our veteran Dwarves, the dwarves that were here before the wave. Though fortress life is hard, a comfort here and there can make it all worth it.

15’th of Malachite

The worshippers of Lumnum, who band together as “The Tenebrous Order,” have requested for the construction of a temple in service to the God of The Stars and Freedom. A small temple, humble and non-obstructive to our time, could be arranged. Though I’m not too religious myself, I recognize the faith of the people in their gods, and I hope morale could be raised by this new holy site. Very well my Dwarves, construction is underway.

Because Lumnum is the God of The Stars as well as Freedom, I thought the best way to honor that sphere of influence was to design the temple in the shape of a five-pronged star. I’ll commision some statues of copper in the image of Lumnum to decorate the temple.

11’th of Galena

And now we find ourselves with yet another uninvited guest to our territory. Mostly unarmored Dwarves position themselves behind the drawbridge, and I bring the monster hunters out of their comfort zone to help defend our fortress. Our soldiers, due to the armor not yet being fully forged, are mostly unprotected, with only Hammers to keep them safe.

I lead our Dwarves onwards to battle. Unfortunately, not every Dwarf had heard the call to the Tavern and several children were playing in the mud outside. So, bravely, I led our soldiers to dispose of this garbage, and swiftly, the threat was taken care of, with only one fatality.

Unfortunately, one of our soldiers, young Mörul Likottorad was lost during the conflict. We know not their whereabouts, but we assume the worst. Due to the missing nature of the body, we will engrave a memorial slab in her honor. Go to the ancestors lost hero, your struggles are over.

Haphazardly, I arranged for a hospital to be built on the main floor. Though our casualties were minimal, some Dwarves, like our siege operator Kulet Alisbesmer, had sustained some injuries, they for example had lost their ability to stand. We will need to commission some crutches, and our Chief Medical Dwarf (CMD) will need to treat their wounds.

1st of LimeStone

Now, don’t ask me how, but Kulet seems to have gotten better with minimal input. She wasn’t even on her last legs, she could barely stand, now here she is, working as if nothing traumatic happened. Ah well, Dwarves are just built differently. Construction of the Hospital is going well enough, we have some beds, a coffer to store our medical supplies, and I am building a Soap Maker’s Workshop inside the hospital so we may be able to clean wounds in the future. This really should’ve been something I built first, but better late than never. Across the Hospital, where the training barracks are, I am constructing a Bedroom, an Office/Dining Hall, and a set of prisons for the new Captain of the Guard, Minkot Datantoral/Ironlaw (I mean come on, with a name like that, why not?!). I also realized the mayor JV needed some extra effort into their living standards, being mayor and all. And why not, surely ImpossiblePackaged, for their labors as overseer, requires a new living standard.

4th of Limestone

More child snatchers arrived, they ran away just as quickly. I pray for peace, my Dwarves have seen enough action.

14’th of Limestone

A Caravan from Litast Likot has arrived to Ërtongnòm. I seem to be getting what I want in terms of peace. So far, things have been relatively peaceful. The problem, I’ve been skimping out on the Fortress’s trade goods production, so as a result, we’re not trading for anything. Shameful, I’m aware, but with the formation of a militia, threats arriving to the fortress and trying to specialize workers into other industries I deemed important for the time, it just slipped my mind.

15’th of Limestone

A day later and the liaison offers us a barony. Though my thoughts on the nobility are less than flattering, I recognize this is a huge prestige for us Dwarves. So, in honor of their labors in guiding us to this mountain home, I felt it necessary to award comrade ImpossiblePackaged the title of Baron. Glory to our eternal fortress! For my successor, i ordered us some subterranean plant seeds and spawn as well as extra logs for bed production. Make use of this as you will, honored overseer. They want, in return, bracelets, and are offering a 196% increase to purchase any the next time they visit. I’ll commission some bracelets for the fortress and encrust them with gemstones. The future looks bright for us. Glory to the Future!

21’st of Limestone

So, for reasons beyond my comprehension, it did not occur to me to check the finished goods bins for trade goods. Fortunately, the liaison has not left us, so I sent our broker to trade. After considerable trading, and feeling a little ripped off, I bought the fortress additional provisions to ensure its survival. I also purchased bins of different cloths and bags of seeds and spawns. We can craft more goods to replenish our loss and use the new silks/yarn-cloth/plant-cloth/leather to dress our citizens into something fresher.

18’th of Sandstone

It’s been an uneventful Autumn as of yet. A long while ago when constructing the trash pit, we ran into some semi-molten rock. This could indicate magma below. Right now, coke is becoming a rarity, so magma forges and smelters could be very helpful to us economically necessary. The magma sea was discovered, now to figure out pumps, or move metalsmithing operations downwards. This also means our dumping pit for trash no longer will emit a smell, because the magma will burn it all! So long miasma, you purple cloud of anxiety!

22nd of Sandstone

This is so far what I have for the new magma workshops that will mostly replace our need for refined coke. After the workshops are dug out with storage space, we’ll begin actually channeling into the sea for the forges and smelters. I did see some magma snakes and other nasties, hopefully this won’t present itself as too much of a problem, I may consider putting guard detail down to these depths.

23rd of Sandstone, or as I like to call it, as soon as I unpaused the game:

Made of water, no wonder you were forgotten. Although such an announcement scared me, I realized there was no real way for the monster to enter the fortress properly. It’s in the caverns, we have traps set up for this beast, and it’s made of water. I’ll set up a guard post with our war dog, but I think the monster hunters in the tavern are more than enough.

1st of Timber

The great big ball of agua fled. Kinda hoping for a fight, but this is probably for the best. At least this means nobody dies. The miners continue to dig deep into the depths of this world. I am eager for some metal bars into our workers’ hands. We also just received a new migrant wave pushing our population from 69 to 77. We deconstructed the upstairs Metal Forges and Smelters. The anvils will be relocated to the lower levels and housing for our smiths will be located near the workshops. And then move the storages near there as well. Because the steel industry still needs carbon in order to forge steel, coke will still be located by the smelters.

10th of Timber

Do you think Armok hides in heaven because they too are far too tired to deal with all this? Our Dwarves do not like listening to burrow orders, so my only solution is to send soldiers to throw themselves at the enemy in order to deal with threats. Here’s hoping we don’t make more engraved slabs.

13th of Timber

No deaths!!! The giantess Istrath Absamistrath Muraktesum is dead by the hands of Mebzuth Athelilrom, the killer of the cyclops invader that resulted in the death of another Dwarf in the months prior. Truly, the title of Hero of Ërtongnòm is earned here.

26th of Timber

I dug out the forge shops and this thing came out of the rock. WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!?!?! We are going to lose miners and gain some coffins and slabs. I have the soldiers guard a hallway that leads to the rest of the fortress so that the soldiers can regroup and not take this thing one at a time.

1st of Moonstone

There are so many casualties. That THING charged the blokade and killed seven soldiers (Including Mebzuth) and ten civilians. I ordered the Dwarves to wall off the forges. A vile siege of darkness has arrived to Ërtongnòm. Goblins charge the gates. The Gates are closing, whoever is outside is just going to have to fend for themselves, because we absolutely cannot defend ourselves. After more dwarves threw themselves to kill the fiend, thus killing themselves, the thing finally died, but we are out of soldiers. A vile force of Darkness has arrived. We have no soldiers, our workforce was cut by 27% and the winter has only just begun. The gates are closed. Armok save them, because I cannot.

16th of Moonstone

The baron, ImpossiblePackaged, was injured during the fight in their fight against Skullscrypt the Lurid, that maroon fiend that slaughtered much of our citizens. Though they killed the beast, they are left in critical condition that has already been patched up, and sutured. The only task left to do is to clean them up, lest they die of infection. A statue in honor of the death of the Lurid will be erected of course, but it will be a somber moment. Too many lives were lost thanks to that death machine.

19th of Moonstone

I’m not sure which of the Gods I’ve angered, but I'm going to assume I did something serious. This must be the third Forgotten Beast that has visited our fortress. We still haven’t been able to rebuild our militia, so I think it’s best to simply keep the gates closed, and never venture out into the wild.

20th of Moonstone

It got into the fortress. It came from the caverns and attacked our war dog first, then it set off our many stone traps. In a miraculous turn of events, it fell into the entrance of the garbage pit. A small hallway that is inaccessible to the rest of the fortress. So now we have a pet monster that I hope starves to death. In any case, I need to replace that dog. It served us well and will be remembered.

7th of Opal

Some Good news…finally. Likot Idudos, our mechanic, has entered a strange mood and is gathering goods for their latest artifact. I am excited about what new goody we may yet receive!

12th of Opal

Our Newest artifact! Though I would’ve preferred the creation of armor or a weapon, this artifact will truly be a delight to display around the fortress. Perhaps I’ll set it up in the guildhall or the temple, and allow those buildings to finally be complete.

4th of Obsidian

As I realize my tenure as overseer draws to a close, I look back at my progress here in the fortress of Gerbilgod. Could I have done better? I came here smelling the miasma, hoping to clean it. Then the migrants came to help, then the monster came to feed. We have no more coal to refine into coke, and thus, an end to our metal industry. To try to substitute, I awoken the slumber of a beast best left forgotten. My Dwarves, oh my precious Dwarves, will you ever forgive me? The gates remain closed. Perhaps the next overseer will find success in my downward descent into madness. I truly hope so, for the sake of Ërtongnòm. The previous overseers built great foundations for wealth, but the outside world proved too hostile, too greedy. To any overseer who wishes to avenge our people, build up our strength, destroy the beasts in our fortress and prove to all the glory of Ërtongnòm! My final message to you all: bring us Glory!

In remembrance: 26 Lost but never forgotten

Ber Dallithonddom, Miner

Aban Degëlîton, Carpenter

Vucar Dumatrìthar, Herbalist

Besmar Närèrith, Fisherdwarf

Goden Shedkol, Herbalist

Zulban Idbal, Gem Cutter

Kol Össeklikot, Animal Trainer

Zuntîr Rovodmedtob, Macedwarf

Kib Takùthducim, Marksdwarf

Rimtar Estunaban, Trader

Mebzuth Athelilrom, Hero of Gerbilgod

Atír Mosusgoden, Hammerdwarf

Nish Zulbanrutod, Dwarven Child

Zulban Litastkobeb, Sworddwarf

Mörul Likottorad, Hammerdwarf

Rovod Dalzatshorast, Miner

Erika ProudAutsiticComrade (Minkot Ironlaw), Captain of the Guard/Hammerdwarf

Feb Ustuthód, Bone Doctor

Zuglar Akrulfotthor, Metalsmith

Udib Likotuvel, Hammerdwarf

Goden Mebzuthmishthem, Dwarven Child

Amost Tangathlibash, Doctor

Tulon Alåtharist, Farmer

Kogan Likottulon, Glassmaker

Fikod Rakustardes, Pump Operator

Inod Thîkutzuntîr, Peasant

#Dwarf Fortress #gerbilgod #long post

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