#honor 200 price

[techsole-blog]

Honor 200 5G Price, Official Look, Camera, Design, Specifications, 12GB ...

[afro-elf]

Saw Hoz twice this week. But iam DREADING his big venue ticket prices.

he usually sets them relatively low regardless of venue size. i saw him in a small and bigger venue and both times it was pretty reasonable pricing compared to other artists i've wanted to see that aren't indie. but i know whatever vendor he/his label uses is gonna inflate them. ticketmaster definitely bumped up the price tag on the last tour... anyway jealous of you and all new yorkers, God's favorites

[dailynewztimes]

Honor 200 Lite 5G भारत में इस दिन होगा लॉन्च, मिलेगा 12GB RAM और 108MP कैमरा, कीमत बस इतना

Honor 200 Lite 5G स्मार्टफोन अब भारत में धूम मचाने के लिए तैयार है। हाल ही में इस स्मार्टफोन को ग्लोबल मार्केट में लॉन्च किया गया था, और अब भारतीय स्मार्टफोन लवर्स के लिए यह खुशखबरी है कि यह स्मार्टफोन जल्द ही भारत में भी उपलब्ध होने वाला है। Honor 200 Lite 5G अगर आप इस स्मार्टफोन का बेसब्री से इंतजार कर रहे हैं, तो आपकी प्रतीक्षा खत्म होने वाली है, क्योंकि भारत में Honor 200 Lite 5G Launch Date…

[todaywold]

Honor 200 Pro 5G: इंडिया में हुआ लॉन्च सबसे कम प्राइस में 200MP AI कैमरे वाला जबरदस्त 5G स्मार्टफोन दे दिया इसमें भर भर कर फीचर्स

Honor किया सबसे बेहतरिंग स्मार्टफोन लॉन्च Honor 200 Pro 5G दे दिया इसमें भर भर कर फीचर्स। दरअसल Honor अपनी दो सीरिज का 5G स्मार्टफोन लॉन्च कर करने की तैयारी कर रहे हैं Honor 200 Pro 5G, Honor 200 5G  सबसे पहले इस फोन को चीन में 3C सर्टिफिकेशन वेबसाइट लॉन्च हुआ दिखा उसी लिस्टिंग से Honor अपनी  मॉडल नंबर और सपोर्टेड चार्जिंग स्पीड का खुलासा हुआ। अगर आप तेज रफ्तार वाला 5G नेटवर्क और दमदार कैमरा…

[bourbontrend]

Discover the extraordinary journey of Kentucky Senator Bourbon and its new John Brown Bourbon Release! Celebrating Kentucky's rich history and crafted with unmatched expertise. Get ready to indulge in this highly anticipated, limited edition batch. Cheers to Kentucky's legacy!

[novaursa]

The Price of Fire (18)

- Summary: In the shadows of the Red Keep, the daughter of the Mad King, Princess Y/N Targaryen, finds herself caught between duty, love, and survival. As her father’s madness deepens and political intrigue swirls, she seeks solace in a forbidden romance with her sworn protector, Ser Arthur Dayne. With King Aerys plotting to use her as a pawn and her brother Rhaegar maneuvering to shield her from their father’s grasp, Y/N must navigate a web of deceit and desire. As tensions rise, secrets ignite into fierce passion and dangerous alliances, where the wrong move could mean the end of them all.

- Paring: targ!reader/Arthur Dayne

- Note: This series is almost done.

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Word count: 6 200+

- Previous part: 17

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround @lightdragonrayne @onlyrealjoy @hajmola-vs-aamchaska

The sun hung high in the sky, scorching the battlefield as the armies of Dorne and the Crown faced each other. Dust swirled in the dry breeze, carrying with it the heavy scent of anticipation and sweat. Rhaegar sat tall on his horse, his hair catching the sunlight, eyes scanning the field with a quiet intensity. Beside him, Oberyn Martell wore a crooked smile, his hand resting on the hilt of his spear, eager for the battle to begin.

The Dornish forces stood ready, their golden sun-and-spear banners fluttering in the wind, their formations tight and disciplined. They had been bred for this—warriors of the desert, fierce and unyielding. Opposite them, the forces of the Crown gathered under the red and black dragon of House Targaryen, though the men that followed Aerys seemed driven by something far more reckless than mere duty.

Across the battlefield, the wild, untamed presence of King Aerys himself was unmistakable. His banner flew high, but the sight of his forces moving forward—chaotic and disorganized—immediately struck Rhaegar as odd. These were not seasoned soldiers fighting with strategy and purpose. These men were little more than cattle being driven forward by the mad king’s whims, and the recklessness of it sent a chill down Rhaegar’s spine.

"Something is wrong," Rhaegar muttered, his brow furrowing as he watched Aerys’s soldiers march toward the Dornish lines. There was no order, no cohesion in their movements. They stumbled, tripping over one another, some already breaking ranks before the battle had even begun.

Oberyn let out a low, amused laugh. "That’s no army," he said, his voice laced with mockery. "That’s a slaughter waiting to happen."

Rhaegar’s grip tightened on the reins of his horse as the Crown’s forces advanced, their swords raised, but their movements erratic. Aerys had driven them to the brink, their fear of the king and his wrath greater than any sense of self-preservation. These men were not here to fight with honor or discipline—they were here because Aerys had given them no choice.

Without warning, the battle began. The front lines of Aerys’s forces crashed into the Dornish vanguard like a wave breaking against a rock, the clash of steel ringing out over the field. Swords flashed, spears thrust, and the cries of the dying filled the air. The Dornish soldiers held their ground, their spears cutting through the disorganized ranks of the Crown’s army with ruthless precision.

Blood splattered across the sun-bleached earth as the Crown’s forces faltered, unable to match the discipline and ferocity of the Dornish. It was clear within moments that this was not a battle of equals. The men fighting for Aerys were driven by madness, not skill. They threw themselves into the fray with a wild desperation, as though trying to avoid some unseen terror, but they were cut down in droves by the Dornish spears.

Rhaegar urged his horse forward, his eyes narrowing as he watched the chaos unfold. He had expected resistance—he had expected a fight—but this was madness. Aerys’s forces were throwing themselves against the Dornish lines with no regard for strategy or survival. It was as though the men were being herded to their deaths, driven forward by sheer fear rather than the desire to win.

The sound of steel clashing grew louder, the chaos of battle unfolding around him. Rhaegar drew his sword, the familiar weight of the blade in his hand grounding him as he urged his men forward. His own soldiers moved with purpose, cutting through the disorganized lines of the Crown’s forces with ruthless efficiency. But as more and more men fell, something gnawed at Rhaegar’s thoughts—this was no way to fight. This was a massacre.

Oberyn, riding beside him, let out a shout of triumph as his spear pierced the chest of a Crown soldier, the man crumpling to the ground in a heap. "I almost feel sorry for them," Oberyn shouted over the din, though there was no sympathy in his voice. "This is hardly a battle!"

Rhaegar didn’t reply, his focus locked on the blood-soaked field before him. Aerys’s men were falling in droves, their bodies littering the ground like broken dolls, yet more soldiers rushed forward, heedless of the slaughter unfolding around them. They were like cattle, driven into the waiting spears of the Dornish, their deaths swift and brutal.

But something about it chilled Rhaegar to his core. This wasn’t how an army should fight, not even one loyal to a mad king. There was no coordination, no plan. These men were dying for nothing, driven to their deaths by fear or insanity—perhaps both.

Suddenly, a horn sounded from the far side of the battlefield, and more of Aerys’s forces poured forward, though they moved with the same erratic desperation as the rest. Rhaegar’s eyes scanned the field, searching for some sign of Aerys, but the king was nowhere to be seen. Instead, his men continued to charge forward, their eyes wide with terror, as though they were fleeing from something far worse than the Dornish blades that awaited them.

Rhaegar’s horse shifted beneath him, sensing the unease in its rider. He tightened his grip on his sword, his thoughts racing as the battle raged around him. What was driving Aerys’s men to fight like this? Was it fear of the king, or something more?

The clash of steel and the cries of the dying grew louder as the battle intensified. Blood splattered across the field, staining the earth red, and the air was thick with the scent of sweat, death, and fear. The Dornish fought with calculated precision, their spears and swords cutting through the chaos with ease, but Rhaegar couldn’t shake the feeling that something was horribly wrong.

Oberyn wheeled his horse around, his spear slick with blood as he grinned at Rhaegar. "This is almost too easy," he shouted over the din. "Are you sure Aerys isn’t just sending these poor fools to die for his amusement?"

Rhaegar’s lips tightened into a grim line as he watched another wave of Aerys’s soldiers rush forward, only to be cut down like wheat before a scythe. "Something’s not right," he muttered, more to himself than to Oberyn. "This isn’t how an army fights."

The chaos of the battle continued to unfold around them, the clamor of swords and the cries of the dying filling the air. Blood splashed against the dry earth, and the sun beat down on the field of carnage, unrelenting in its heat.

The wind carried a biting chill as dusk approached, its gusts tugging at your gown as you stood near Terrax. His eyes followed your every movement, sensing the urgency in the air. Your heart pounded in your chest, your hand resting on the swell of your abdomen as you watched the horizon, knowing that Rhaegar and Oberyn were out there, fighting for the survival of your family.

But you weren’t alone in your resolve. Behind you, Arthur’s voice broke through the quiet, laced with worry and desperation. “You can’t do this, Y/N. Not now. You’re too far along, and the risks are too great.”

You turned to face him, his expression torn between anger and fear, his hands clenched at his sides. He had always been your anchor, your protector, but this was a decision you couldn’t let him make for you. The burden of your family’s survival had been placed on your shoulders long before, and it wasn’t something you could ignore now.

“I have to,” you replied softly, though your voice was firm, unyielding. “Rhaegar needs me. The Dornish might have strength in numbers, but Aerys won’t stop. I can’t stand by and wait.”

Arthur stepped closer, his eyes pleading as he reached for you. His hand rested gently on your arm, his touch warm against your skin. “There’s still time to reconsider. Oberyn’s forces can handle this. They’re prepared for what’s coming, and Rhaegar—he’s strong. He’ll lead them.” His voice dropped, and his gaze flickered to your abdomen. “But our child… You… I can’t lose you. Not like this.”

You placed your hand over his, offering a small, sad smile. “I know what’s at stake, Arthur. But this is something I have to do. For Rhaegar, for our family, and for the child growing inside me. I won’t sit idle while everything we’ve fought for is torn apart.”

His grip tightened, and his brow furrowed, but he didn’t argue further. He knew you too well, understood the resolve burning within you. He leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “I can’t stop you, can I?” he whispered, his voice breaking slightly.

You closed your eyes for a moment, savoring the feel of him, the love and fear mingling between you. “No,” you whispered back. “You can’t.”

Arthur sighed, his lips brushing against your temple before he pulled back to look at you, his eyes filled with both admiration and sorrow. “Then go. But promise me you’ll be careful. Promise me you’ll come back.”

“I will,” you whispered, though the weight of the promise settled heavily on your heart. You couldn’t guarantee what would happen once you were in the sky, once you were in the fray, but you would do everything in your power to return to him.

Without another word, Arthur kissed you, the kiss filled with urgency and a depth of emotion that made your heart ache. When he pulled away, his hand lingered on your swollen belly for just a moment longer, as if he was committing the feel of it to memory.

“I love you,” he murmured, his voice thick.

“I love you too,” you replied, your voice steady despite the storm brewing inside you.

You turned then, your gaze settling on Terrax, whose restless energy matched your own. The dragon had sensed the shift in the air, the tension building. His massive wings flexed, and he lowered his head, as if beckoning you forward. You placed a hand on his warm scales, feeling the familiar pulse of the bond between you.

Arthur stepped back as you began to climb onto Terrax, his eyes never leaving you. The strain of your pregnancy made the task more difficult than it had been before, but the determination in your heart pushed you forward. The saddle that Rhaegar and the Dornish had crafted for you made the task easier, but the discomfort of mounting while heavy with child was unavoidable.

As you settled onto Terrax’s back, the dragon shifted beneath you, his wings unfurling in anticipation of the flight to come. But just as you tightened your grip, the voice returned, soft and distant in your mind.

"Blood brings the vicious beast."

The words sent a shiver down your spine, the cryptic message a reminder of the dark bond you shared with Terrax, the unsettling connection that had been forged during his hatching. The meaning behind the words was lost to you, but the urgency in them was clear. Terrax was ready to fight, to tear into whatever enemies lay before him.

You glanced down at Arthur one last time, his figure growing smaller as Terrax rose higher. His eyes followed you, his face tight with worry, but there was something else in his gaze too—pride. He knew what this meant to you, what it meant for your family, and though he feared for you, he understood.

With a powerful beat of his wings, Terrax lifted off the ground, and the world fell away beneath you. The wind rushed past, carrying you higher and higher into the sky, the battlefield stretching out below like a distant painting. You felt the familiar thrill of flight, the rush of adrenaline, but it was tempered by the weight of what lay ahead.

Arthur remained in the courtyard, his eyes never leaving the sky as you flew farther from him. The distance grew, but even as the land blurred beneath you, you could still feel his presence, his love, connecting you to this world.

The battlefield was a chaotic, bloody mess. Dust and smoke hung in the air, thick and choking as the Dornish and Crown forces clashed relentlessly. The sun blazed high above, casting harsh light on the carnage below, turning the earth into a gruesome tableau of bodies and broken weapons. The cries of men and the clash of steel rang out, but beneath it all, there was an eerie, disorganized feel to the fighting that Rhaegar couldn’t shake.

Rhaegar fought on horseback, his sword cutting through the disarray of soldiers with grim efficiency. His Dornish allies fought bravely, holding their lines and striking with precision, but the Crown’s forces... something about them was unsettling. There was no discipline, no order. They fought like madmen, throwing themselves into the Dornish spears without strategy, without care for their own lives. It was as if they were driven by something far more sinister than duty.

Rhaegar swung his sword, parrying an attack before swiftly dispatching a soldier in a tattered Crownland tabard. He paused for a moment, scanning the battlefield, his heart pounding in his chest. The battle should have been more organized, but this was little more than a brawl—a senseless, bloody skirmish. The Dornish were disciplined, their formations tight, but Aerys’s men were like cattle rushing to slaughter, heedless of death. They charged in waves, breaking on the Dornish like water against stone, and yet they kept coming.

As Rhaegar caught his breath, he saw something that made his blood run cold. In the distance, on the far side of the field, a group of Crownland lords—men who should have been commanding from a safe distance—were riding directly into the chaos of the fight. And at the front of that group, clad in black armor that gleamed like oil in the sun, was King Aerys himself.

Rhaegar’s breath caught in his throat as he saw his father—his father, the king—charging into the fray with reckless abandon, flanked by several lords loyal to the Crownlands. Lord Staunton, Lord Darklyn, even the hulking figure of Gregor Clegane, the Mountain, loomed near him. They weren’t leading from the back as lords and kings were meant to—they were in the thick of it, driving forward into the heart of the battle like men possessed.

Aerys’s silver hair, wild and unkempt, streamed behind him like a banner of madness as he rode with a twisted grin on his face, his eyes blazing with something close to ecstasy. He swung a sword—a sword!—with a ferocity that was terrifying to behold. He was no seasoned warrior, no knight trained in the art of combat, but his strikes were savage, each blow fueled by the raw, untethered rage that had come to define him.

"What is he doing?" Rhaegar muttered to himself, his voice filled with disbelief. His father had always been unhinged, but this—this was madness on a scale Rhaegar had never witnessed before. The king was putting himself directly in harm’s way, and the sight of it filled Rhaegar with both horror and a grim understanding that this battle had taken a far darker turn.

Oberyn, fighting not far from Rhaegar, caught sight of Aerys and let out a short, incredulous laugh, his spear slick with blood. "Your father’s mad," he called over the din of battle, though there was no surprise in his voice, only dark amusement. "Does he think this will end in his favor?"

Rhaegar said nothing, his gaze fixed on his father’s wild form as Aerys hacked and slashed at anything that came near him, his lips moving, though the words were lost in the chaos. Whatever Aerys had planned, it was clear he was beyond reason now. He fought like a man possessed, as if his death would somehow win him the throne for eternity.

But Rhaegar’s attention was soon pulled away from Aerys by a low, rumbling sound—a sound that made the earth beneath his feet tremble. It was a sound he recognized all too well. He turned his gaze to the sky, his heart pounding in his chest.

And then he saw it.

Terrax.

The massive black dragon appeared on the horizon, his wings stretched wide as he cut through the air with terrifying grace. The sun glinted off his obsidian scales, and the golden fire of his eyes burned with a fierce, almost predatory light. As Terrax approached, the sound of his wings beating against the wind filled the battlefield, and all at once, the skirmish seemed to shift.

The men on both sides faltered, their heads turning skyward as the enormous beast swooped down, the sheer size of him blotting out the sun for a moment. Soldiers fell back in terror, their weapons dropping from nerveless fingers as the dragon descended, his presence altering the very atmosphere of the fight.

But Aerys—Aerys stood there, his wild grin widening into something manic, something grotesque. His eyes locked on Terrax, and he raised his arms high, as if welcoming the dragon with open arms. He laughed—high, shrill, and unhinged—and the sound cut through the noise of battle like a blade.

"Yes!" Aerys screamed, his voice filled with the kind of madness that sent chills down Rhaegar’s spine. "My dragon! My fire! Burn them all!"

The sight of Terrax, however, did not terrify Aerys. It excited him. The king was ecstatic, his body trembling with the sheer joy of it. To Aerys, the arrival of the dragon was a sign, a promise of fire and blood that he had been waiting for.

Rhaegar’s chest tightened—he knew this moment was coming, but seeing you there, riding the beast into the chaos, it became all too real.

With a sharp command, you urged Terrax forward, the dragon diving toward the battlefield. His wings cut through the air with terrifying grace, and with a powerful exhale, he unleashed a torrent of fire.

The flames poured forth like liquid death, consuming everything in their path. Enemy soldiers screamed as they were engulfed in the blaze, their bodies turning to ash in moments. But Terrax’s fire was indiscriminate—it did not care for friend or foe. Dornish men too, caught in the inferno, perished, their cries joining the cacophony of the dying. The ground beneath you turned to blackened earth, the heat so intense that it left nothing but charred remains in its wake.

Circling above, Terrax bellowed his fury, his wings carrying him higher again as you watched the battlefield beneath you transform into a hellscape of fire and destruction. Your heart pounded in your chest, but the voice that had always whispered in your mind had fallen silent. All that remained now was the heavy sound of Terrax’s wings and the crackle of fire consuming everything below.

From your vantage point, you saw him—Aerys.

The mad king stood in the heart of the carnage, his face twisted into an expression of pure ecstasy. His eyes gleamed with an almost supernatural delight as he watched the devastation unfold, utterly unfazed by the death and chaos around him. His lords, wild-eyed and half-mad themselves, stood close by, some shouting orders, others simply watching with equal fervor. But Aerys—he was in his element, drunk on the destruction Terrax had wrought.

Your stomach churned as you saw his gleeful expression, a sickness crawling through you at the sight of your father relishing the very fire that should have terrified him. This was what he wanted. This was what had driven him here, to the front lines of the skirmish.

Terrax, sensing your shift in mood, circled once more before diving down toward the heart of the battlefield. The dragon’s massive body slammed into the earth with a heavy thud, sending dust and debris into the air as his talons scraped against the ground. Soldiers scattered in terror, their courage crumbling in the face of the monstrous beast before them.

Terrax snarled, his head lowering, golden eyes fixed on Aerys, who stood unfazed, his expression twisted with manic joy. The dragon’s breath came in short, sharp bursts, the heat of his rage palpable, but Aerys merely tilted his head, as though Terrax’s presence was nothing more than a delightful spectacle.

You slid from the saddle, your feet hitting the scorched earth as you stepped forward, placing yourself between Terrax and the king. The tension in the air was thick, the smell of fire and death overwhelming. But your voice was steady as you spoke, loud enough to be heard over the crackling flames.

"You came here because of me," you said, your gaze never leaving Aerys’s face. "Well, here I am."

Aerys blinked, his wild grin faltering for just a moment as he focused on you, his daughter, standing before him. The madness in his eyes flickered, but the hunger remained. "My daughter…" he murmured, his voice carrying over the battlefield like the whisper of a storm. "You have finally come to me."

Terrax growled behind you, his massive body shifting restlessly, but Aerys was utterly unfazed, his attention fixed solely on you. The fires burned around him, the screams of the dying echoing across the battlefield, but for Aerys, there was only you—and the dragon.

From a distance, Rhaegar watched, his heart pounding in his chest. He could barely make sense of what he was seeing, the confrontation between father and daughter at the heart of the madness. Beside him, Oberyn narrowed his eyes, his grip tightening on the reins of his horse.

"Well," Oberyn muttered, his voice low and grim. "This is about to get interesting."

Rhaegar said nothing, his gaze locked on you, his sister, standing before the mad king, with a dragon at your back and fire in your eyes.

The battlefield still raged in the distance, but here, in the center of the carnage, it felt as though time had slowed. Terrax stood behind you, his massive frame looming, muscles taut, his golden eyes fixed on the mad king before him. Every breath he took came with a low, guttural rumble, a sound that made the ground tremble beneath your feet.

But your father—Aerys—seemed oblivious to the threat. His eyes, wide and glittering with that manic gleam you had come to recognize all too well, were locked on you. He stood there, his hair disheveled, his armor tarnished and ill-fitted. He looked more like a specter of the man he had once been than the king you remembered from your youth. And yet, despite everything, a flicker of the father you once knew seemed to remain. That glimmer kept you rooted in place, apprehensive to make the first move.

"Father," you said, your voice barely above a whisper, but the word hung heavy in the air. The weight of that single word was unbearable, torn between loyalty and horror at the man he had become.

Aerys’s lips curled into a twisted smile, his hands twitching at his sides as if barely containing his excitement. "Yes, my daughter," he cooed, taking a step closer. "You’ve returned to me at last. My blood, my dragon child. You see now, don’t you? You belong with me, Y/N. The fire, the blood—it’s ours. You and I—together, we are unstoppable."

You took an involuntary step back, feeling the heat of Terrax's presence behind you. The dragon’s thoughts stirred in your mind, fragmented and wild, like a distant storm you couldn’t quite grasp.

"Blood burns. Blood sings."

The voice rippled through your consciousness, the words erratic and unsettling, but you kept your focus on Aerys, unsure whether the voice in your mind was warning you of him—or something else.

Aerys continued to move closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "You don’t need to fight, my dear," he purred, his voice soft and dangerously persuasive. "You were born of fire, just like me. The babe, I'll let it live if you wish—it will be our babe—and it will be the greatest of us. You see that now, don’t you? We will rise together, burn away the enemies that surround us, and rule forever. You, me, and the child."

Your stomach twisted, revulsion and sorrow battling within you as you took in his words. The insanity in his voice was undeniable, yet some part of you still hesitated. Memories of the father who had once cared for you, before the madness consumed him, flickered in your mind. He had not always been this way. He had once been a king, a father you had looked up to. But that man was long gone.

"Father," you began again, more firmly this time, though your voice wavered slightly. "I can’t go with you. You need to stop this. You have to see what you’re doing—it’s destroying everything. You—"

"Destroying?" Aerys barked, his expression twisting into one of disbelief. "No, no, my sweet. This is creation! Fire is life. Fire cleanses the world of its weakness, and from the ashes, we will rise stronger. You and I are the flames, my dear. And he—" He gestured wildly toward Terrax, his grin widening. "He knows it. Our dragon knows."

At the sound of Aerys’s words, Terrax growled low, his wings twitching in agitation. You could feel his dread building beneath your hands, his wild thoughts still swirling in the back of your mind.

"Beast, beast, beware the beast."

Your pulse quickened, the words creeping into your thoughts like dark whispers. Terrax was alert, and though you couldn’t fully grasp what was coming, you knew that something inside the dragon was stirring—something dangerous.

Aerys stepped closer, his hand outstretched toward you, as though to pull you into his madness. "Come with me, Y/N," he whispered. "Together, we will burn away the lies, the enemies. The throne is ours, and you are my daughter. My blood runs through your veins."

The moment his fingers brushed your arm, you felt a jolt of dread rush through you.

The grip of Aerys’s hand on your arm was cold, even through the heat of the battlefield. His fingers dug into your flesh with a desperation that sent a shiver of dread down your spine. The wild gleam in his eyes was unmistakable, a wildness that had long since consumed the man who had once been your father. For a brief moment, time seemed to slow, the world around you narrowing to just the two of you—father and daughter, locked in this terrible moment.

"You belong with me," he hissed, his voice low and urgent, a whisper laced with venom and longing. His eyes bore into yours, wide and unblinking. "You see it, don’t you? The fire, the blood. It is ours. Together, we can burn away the lies, destroy the enemies of our house, and build a new world. A world for us, for our bloodline. Can’t you see it, my daughter? Can’t you feel it?"

And for a heartbeat, you did see it. As Aerys’s grip tightened, a vision unfolded before your eyes—an impossible, twisted future. You saw King’s Landing in flames, the red and black banners of House Targaryen flying high above the ruins. Terrax circled overhead, his flames pouring down like rain, turning stone to ash and bone to dust. Aerys stood at the center of it all, his face lit with a sick, triumphant smile as the city burned around him. And beside him stood a woman, heavy with child—you. Your belly swollen with life, but your eyes hollow, empty of the spirit that once lived within them.

In this vision, you saw yourself as little more than a shadow, tethered to Aerys’s madness, bound to his vision of endless fire and blood. You saw the child he spoke of—your child—born into a world consumed by flames, shaped by Aerys’s obsession, doomed to carry the same curse of madness that had devoured your father.

"No," you whispered, the word escaping your lips before you could stop it. The vision twisted, darkened, and the suffocating weight of it pressed down on your chest.

The spell of the vision broke, and the battlefield roared back to life around you. Aerys’s face twisted with frustration, his fingers digging deeper into your arm, but his eyes were still alight with that same manic fervor. "You will come with me!" he demanded, his voice rising with hysteria. "Together, we will reign, Y/N! You will be mine, and we will—"

Before he could finish, a thunderous growl erupted from behind you. Terrax moved faster than you could think, his massive head snapping toward Aerys, teeth bared in a terrifying snarl. The dragon's fury rippled through the air, sending a shockwave of raw power that rattled the very ground beneath you. His golden eyes blazed with an intensity that bordered on pure rage.

"Father melts like a moon now. Mother shan't be pleased."

The fragmented thoughts of the dragon echoed in your mind, chaotic and wild, but they carried a clear warning. Aerys’s grip on you faltered for just a moment, his eyes widening in shock as Terrax advanced, the heat of his breath washing over you both.

With a surge of adrenaline, you yanked your arm free from Aerys’s grasp, stumbling backward toward Terrax. The dragon’s enormous tail whipped between you and your father, a clear and unmovable barrier, separating you from the man who had once claimed you as his own. Terrax’s wings flared, his teeth bared in a menacing display of protection.

Aerys staggered back, disbelief and fury etched into his features as he stared at you. "You dare to defy me?" he spat, his voice trembling with outrage. "I am your king! I am your father! You cannot run from this, Y/N. You cannot run from me!"

You met his gaze, your heart pounding in your chest, but the words that left your lips were steady, resolute. "I’m not running, Father. I’m standing against you."

His face twisted with anger, veins bulging at his temples as his hands trembled. "You—"

But before he could say another word, Terrax let out a deafening roar, the sound reverberating across the battlefield. It was a roar of defiance, of finality. The dragon’s eyes locked on Aerys, a growl rumbling deep in his throat, daring the king to take another step.

Aerys faltered, his eyes flicking between you and the beast behind you, confusion and betrayal flooding his expression. He had always believed you would return to him, that the blood you shared would bind you to him forever. But now, the truth was laid bare. You were not standing with him—you were standing against him.

Without another word, you scrambled onto Terrax’s back, your hands gripping the saddle tightly as you swung yourself up, the effort strained by the weight of your pregnancy. Terrax shifted beneath you, his wings unfurling with a powerful beat that stirred the dust at your feet. You could feel his tension, his anger, vibrating through your connection, but there was also a deep, unwavering sense of protection.

Aerys took a step forward, his face contorted with rage, but before he could make another move, Terrax launched himself into the air, his wings beating furiously as he lifted you skyward. The wind howled in your ears as the dragon ascended, leaving the battlefield—and your father—far below.

From the heights of the sky, you looked down and saw him, a small figure on the ground, watching helplessly as Terrax carried you farther and farther away. Aerys’s face, even from this distance, was twisted with disbelief and fury, his outstretched hand reaching toward the sky as though he could still pull you back to him.

But that was the answer he had sought since the night Arthur took you away to Starfall. Now, he knew—he had lost you.

As Terrax soared higher, the wind rushing past you, you glanced down toward the battlefield, where Rhaegar and Oberyn stood at a distance, watching the confrontation unfold. Rhaegar’s face was tight with worry, but there was also a flicker of something else in his eyes—relief. He had seen it too. The choice had been made.

You were no longer bound to Aerys’s madness. You were free, and so was your dragon.

And as Terrax carried you higher into the clouds, the fires of the battlefield fading beneath you.

Rhaegar watched from the rise as Terrax ascended into the sky, carrying you far away from the chaos of the battlefield below. His heart, already heavy with the weight of the rebellion, tightened further as he saw your silhouette disappear into the clouds. Relief warred with fear in his chest. You had escaped Aerys’s madness, but at what cost? How much longer could any of this last?

Beside him, Oberyn Martell shifted in his saddle, his dark eyes glinting with a mixture of amusement and grim determination. "Well, that was quite the show," he muttered, his gaze trailing after Terrax as the dragon vanished. "Your father’s about to lose what little mind he has left."

Rhaegar remained silent, his thoughts tangled. His violet eyes were focused on Aerys, who stood below in the center of the battlefield, his face contorted in a twisted mask of rage and disbelief. Aerys’s hands shook at his sides, his body trembling with fury as he screamed into the void where you had been only moments before. The sight of the mad king losing control, now that his last desperate hope had flown from him, was both tragic and terrifying.

Aerys’s voice carried across the field, shrill and cracked. "Rhaegar!" he screamed, his voice filled with venom. "You traitor! You thief!" His words were nearly incoherent with rage as he pointed a shaking finger toward his son. "You will pay for this! You will burn! All of you will burn!"

Rhaegar clenched his fists, his knuckles white as he watched his father from the distance. The Dornish forces had already begun to pull back, regrouping in the face of the Crown’s disorganized retreat. Aerys’s men, no longer driven by their king’s madness, were faltering, unsure of what to do without their master’s unhinged orders. The skirmish was breaking apart, and yet Aerys remained, screaming into the void, his fury at losing you blinding him to the state of the battle.

"Look at him," Oberyn said, shaking his head in disbelief. "The king of ashes. He’d sooner burn us all than admit he’s lost."

Rhaegar’s lips tightened, his gaze never leaving Aerys. The sight of his father, reduced to this shell of a man, filled him with a deep, gnawing sadness. But there was no saving Aerys now. His mind had fractured long ago, and what remained was a man lost to madness, clinging to power through fire and fear.

Aerys continued to scream across the battlefield, his voice cracking as he raged at his son. "You will not escape me, Rhaegar! I will find her! I will burn you all! You cannot hide from me!"

But Rhaegar’s mind was no longer on his father’s threats. His thoughts were consumed with only one thing—getting you, his sister, and their mother, Rhaella, away from this nightmare. Away from the flames of Aerys’s obsession. Varys’s promise echoed in his mind like a lifeline, a whisper of hope in the darkness. The Spider had vowed to take them to Essos, where they would be safe, far from Robert’s rebellion, far from Aerys’s madness.

"Essos," Rhaegar murmured to himself, the word barely audible.

Oberyn glanced at him sideways, raising an eyebrow. "What was that?"

Rhaegar didn’t answer immediately. His mind was already moving ahead, planning. Varys had assured him there was a ship ready, hidden in the docks, waiting to take them away. You, the child you carried, and Rhaella. They could escape before the final blow fell, before Robert’s forces reached King’s Landing, and before Aerys burned it all to the ground.

"We need to leave," Rhaegar said finally, his voice low and tense. "This is all falling apart, Oberyn. My father will destroy everything. He will kill everyone—there’s no reasoning with him anymore."

Oberyn studied him for a moment, his usual smirk fading as he recognized the seriousness in Rhaegar’s tone. "You mean to run?" he asked, his voice calm but laced with curiosity.

"I mean to save my family," Rhaegar replied, his gaze hardening as he looked toward the horizon, where Terrax had disappeared with you. "Before it’s too late."

Oberyn nodded slowly, his expression darkening. "Then you’d better move quickly. Your father won’t stop until he’s torn Westeros apart, piece by piece."

Rhaegar turned back to the battlefield, his eyes locking on Aerys, who continued to shout at the retreating Dornish forces, his voice hoarse with rage. The mad king was a shadow of his former self, consumed by his obsession with you and the fire that had devoured his sanity.

Aerys pointed once more toward Rhaegar, his words garbled with fury. "You will burn, Rhaegar! You will all burn! The fire will take you all!"

But Rhaegar no longer cared for his father’s threats. His mind was set. The rebellion, the war—it all paled in comparison to the survival of his family. Aerys could burn himself and the world around him, but Rhaegar would not let you or their mother be caught in those flames.

"Let him rage," Rhaegar muttered, his jaw set with grim determination. "We’re getting out of here."

And as Aerys’s screams continued to echo across the battlefield, Rhaegar spurred his horse forward, his heart already focused on the future—on escaping this nightmare and finding safety across the Narrow Sea. The storm that was brewing would consume Westeros, but Rhaegar had already made his choice.

He would not let Aerys take them all down with him.

[ekrixart]

Happy First Anniversary of Elevator Hitch!!!

In honor of the anniversary we've started a petition with Makeship to support the launch an official plushie campaign!!

With the petition 200 pledges of $2 are needed within ONE WEEK to start the campaign,

The plushie itself will be $29.99 USD, but it's just $2 USD to let Makeship know how many people are interested in having a Protag Plushie and to move on to the actual production- If the campaign is successful that initial $2 will be taken out of the full price later when the plushie's actually made and sent to you

Support the petition using the link below

[5ilent5cience]

This is Second Part of 200 Followers Special, which is The Plague IV Edition. Just remember, you can pick one or more DTIYS if you wanted to, just have fun

~★

First Price = Half Body, Rendered

Second Price = Lineless art

Third price = Lineart Icon With Honors = Chibis

~★ It will be same rules except no Nsfw putten !! And do not forget to mention/tag me so i can share it on instagram !! :]

Deadline is March 10

[nendoposting]

Today I will be covering the very first officially released nendoroid! The one and only, Neko arc:grumbling face ver!

Being the first nendoroid to be officially released is a huge honor, she was released for purchase in 2006!

Being the first nendo it would make sense that she’s number #000

She originally went for 20$ but now she can range in price anywhere from 200$ to 1,000$

She’s an absolutely perfect icon and so much better looking than other first releases I’m glad she’s the first!

Bonus features: she comes with a fish :)

Fish for kissing

[hearts4hughes]

I would love for you to finish hard to get, Taylor swift tickets, or flirt? Btw your writing is phenomenal. You’re doing amazing bestie 🫶🏼

taylor swift tickets - trevor zegras

jack hughes x fem! reader + trevor zegras x fem! reader (platonic)

100 followers celly!

warnings: swearing and taylor swift presale type of stress

notes: in honor of my taylor concert fit coming in today<3. i hope you enjoy reading this short little blurb that basically sums up what a lot of people were feeling while waiting in the eras tour presale queue lol!

gif is not mine

trevor, jack, and i sit together on my couch. our eyes stay glued to the laptop screen that reads ��2000+ people ahead of you in the queue’.

today is the taylor swift verified fan presale. we were one of the few people who got sent a presale code, and we are treasuring it. out of nervous habit, my leg begins to jump. i feel jack’s hand on my leg, trying to calm my nerves.

“babe, it’s ok. calm down.” he rubs my leg and i send him a deathly glare.

“no it’s not ok!” i snap, throwing my hands up. “there are probably no tickets left and we are waiting here like assholes!”

jack’s eyes widen, shocked at my sudden freak out. he giggles a little before rubbing his thumb against my cheek. “ok, but nothing can change our spot in the queue.”

“jack, respectfully, shut up.” trevor chimes in, hitting him in the head.

we all are dressed from head to toe in taylor swift merch. in result of us all coming from hockey families, in general are very superstitious, so our superstition doesn’t stop at taylor swift.

“oh my god! it moved!” i jump up from the couch, grabbing the laptop that sits on the coffee table in front of us. the screen now says ‘1530 people are ahead of you in the queue’, instead of 2000+.

trevor and jack shuffle in their spots, moving closer to me to get a better view of the laptop. as we begin to move through the queue, alarmingly fast, no one talks. the only thing that fills the room is the noises of trevor biting his nails, my jumpy leg, and jack’s phone.

“holy fuck,” trevor’s mouth stays wide open, in disbelief that there is only 1 person in front of us in the queue. “everyone ready for this?”

jack and i nod in response, too focused to talk. the screen changes and we are entered into the ticket sales screen. i click on any seats i can find, not caring about prices. as i click on the seats and select purchase, it says the tickets were already purchased by another fan. we all start to mutter swears under our breath and trevor even stands up, pacing the living room.

finally, i click on three seats. they in are in the 200’s section and a perfect view of the stage. i quickly click purchases tickets and get through to the payment process.

“someone grab the notepad with the credit card information!” i bark out orders as jack and trevor run around the living room to bring me the yellow notepad. jack throws the pad over to me and i type in the information, not messing up once. after entering everything, i click purchase and wait for the screen to confirm that i have the tickets.

as the screen goes blank, only showing a small circle indicating the purchase is being processed, no one even dares to move. i glance at trevor who has his hands on top of his head, and then jack, who has a nervous expression painted across his face.

i close my eyes and hold my breath, not wanting to watch what was going to happen next, but as both trevor and jack say ‘oh my god’ simultaneously, my eyes shoot open.

“we got the tickets!” i scream, throwing the laptop off my lap and shooting to my feet. we all cheer, hugging each other and jumping up and down. after we get off our adrenaline high, the shock hits us.

“we are seeing taylor swift.”

[anexperimentallife]

Help a Filipino family with a newborn and three other kids stay in their home!

UPDATED POST about the Tolentinos' situation after some negotiation with the new landowner!

Right now they have to come up with 6,000 pesos (about 120 dollars) by the end of April, 6,000 more by the end of June, and 12,000 pesos (about 240 dollars) more in December. (So basically around 480 dollars, with a quarter of it due immediately. This is less than what they WERE going to have to pay.)

Thanks to you, $98 of the first payment has already been raised! Thank you! We're still not quite there, though.

Here's Jhane Tolentino's PayPal donation link

In case you missed the earlier post, here's the deal in the nutshell: Jhane's* dad is partially disabled, and works as a taxi driver two days a week, for about 10,000 pesos (less than 200 dollars) a month, which is about all he can manage. But twenty years ago, the Tolentinos built a house for their family on land they were told they could occupy forever.

The landowner passed away, and his heir refuses to honor the agreement. He is demanding the Tolentinos start paying rent or vacate the house they built. After some negotiating, the price is dropped a bit, and he is allowing them to purchase the property their house is on (once again, the house they BUILT there, because they were promised they could stay there forever), but they have to come up with the above amounts by the times indicated or forfeit the deal.

If they can get through these first few payments, they hope to be able to handle things on their own, but this came out of the blue, and right now they need a hand.

*In case you don't remember Jhane (@geniussheepworld), she's been a friend of the family since 2021, shortly before El was born. Back when I was hooked up to an oxygen machine for a month, Jhane moved in with us to help Zoey (@thesurestthing) take care of Baby El and me, and pretty much just became part of our little family. She's living with us again to reduce the financial strain on the rest of the family, but that's all we can really afford to do.

P.S. This is originating on my blog instead of hers because she's new to Tumblr, and we don't want her to get mistaken for a bot or anything, whereas I've been here since 2012.

[skyc47su]

Topic: Concerns over making skycotl figurine sculpt commissions

Hi everyone! First of all, I'd like to say thank you so much over your comments and reactions to my two skycotl elder sculpts! I've worked hard for them, and I just feel so happy to everyone's comments on my work! Especially to some where I've managed to convince people they were real sky merch hehe (note: they aren't x'D). I think that's the highest honor I've ever received being an artist~

I'd like to address this topic, as I've been receiving a few comments on how they'd love to own one and perhaps commission me for custom skycotl sculpts. I hope it's alright with you guys for a moment of a very long text post ;u; So for starters, I'd like to state the fact that I am not a professional artist. I'm just a hobbyist with a background in veterinary medicine. ;w; zero background on art school. I was pretty much self-taught. So if I ever do create sculpt works for sale, they will be made by a hobbyist artist with no art background other than years of self-taught art stuff.

I'd like to state reasons on why I hesitate to make custom figurine art commissions.

I have never made nor sold physical merch/ sculpts -However I have made and successfully shipped sculpt works to friends! They were however made with oven-baked sculpey, which did not handle shipping well and had to be glued together. However, the elder pieces were made with quality air dry polymer clay. This clay, when dry, has the same feel as nendroid or SHFigurarts figurines. They are amazingly flexible and takes a lot to break. So I'm confident with these figures being able to survive shipping.

I cannot guarantee flawless, clean, uniform quality similar to goodsmile and other well-known figurine makers, or even indie makers -The results may be different every time, there may be unwanted notches here and there, I might see something during painting progress that I didn't spot while sculpting and cannot adjust it once the clay dries, my paint job may be flawed (uneven lines, color mistakes, etc.). These are my main concerns. Again, I am not a professional, although I do improve each time I work on something new. Currently, these two were the second time I've sculpted using air dry polymer clay.

From the images above, you guys may spot imperfections such as: -Tsadi's helmet and head being a little rough -Rough-looking paint details (especially the white "glow") my hands were shaky -Tsadi's gloves not being perfectly straight -Little dry paint "dirt" bits which leaves some little bumps here and there (Notice Tsadi's arm having little bumps) -The underside of Teth's hair was hard to reach and paint perfectly -Teth's hands looking a little odd (the clay air-dries fast and the more I worked, the more it risked their fingers breaking apart) -Teth's skirt should've been more flared-out, but the clay decided it doesn't want to hence the skirt flaps became a little limp -Accidental score marks I must've left from being pricked by something (like a fingernail or a tool next to me) before it dried completely 3. Price -Even if I consider my work shoddy, I'd honestly price Tsadi (Golden Wasteland elder) $200 and Teth (Hidden Forest elder) $150, without shipping fees and etc. I think that sort of price will turn people off, but these are completely hand-made, from sculpting to painting. No any sort of pre-made clay cast used. I did lose a lot of skin on my fingertips because of this project. I'm actually still in the process of growing it back ;; I was constantly checking my work everyday for 30 days, leaving the clay to firm up a bit and coming back to adjust it as it dries, so it did take a lot of time and effort. (I'm not complaining however, I really did have fun with this project!) 4. Material supply -The main concern is the clay. It's brand is "Modena" air dry polymer clay sourced from Japan. I've waited half a year just to buy it from one local art shop, and currently I've only seen 4 packs left in stock. I had to use 1 and a half pack of clay just for GW elder, because he's such a big guy x'D

So ah... Yes, these are my concerns if you guys do really want to commission me. I'd be willing, of course! But I'd like you guys to know first of what you guys may receive if you do so. Thank you all so much for your consideration and taking time to read my post! I hope you guys have a wonderful day QwQ your comments have made me so happy! Oh and I still do digital art commissions though :3

[bethanydelleman]

Could you do a ranking on the mothers-in-law of JA novels, from worst to best?

This is going to be fun!!! Here are the hero and heroine moms ranked as mother-in-laws... Okay, realized that two entire novels are devoid of MILs (Emma and Persuasion), so I'm throwing mother figures Mrs. Weston, Sophia Croft, and Lady Russell in too. Also, I started with best:

1. Mrs. Dashwood: fully prepared to love anyone her daughters love immediately. Judicious in her visiting, so friendly and kind she can break through any introverts shell, A+ MlL

2. Sophia Croft: ships her brother with happiness. Total badass who is never boring at a party. Welcoming and kind and will show Anne the captain-wife ropes (probably including some literal ropes...)

3. Mrs Morland: ready to welcome and forgive anyone kind to her daughter; sensible and practical. Her only demerit is insisting on the General's consent. I'm sure Henry loves going to their house for visits.

4. Mrs. Weston: loves Emma like a daughter and a best friend. Already has an amicable and equal relationship with Mr. Knightley. They will all go along charmingly. Only problem is her overly friendly husband who might invite the Eltons!

5. Lady Russell: Yes, she was prejudiced against Wentworth at first, but she admits she was wrong. She loves Anne, is the only half-sensible person at Kellynch, and she shares Anne's interests. Sure to be a welcome relief from Sir Walter and Elizabeth whenever the Wentworths visit.

6. Lady Bertram: she's... there. Nothing very positive in her behaviour but nothing negative either. Maybe gifted Fanny a pug.

7. Mrs. Price: Positives- lives very far away, will most likely leave you alone. Negatives- everything else.

8. Mrs. Bennet: Inspired the Bingleys to move hundreds of miles away, but she does feed you really well when you visit. Makes her daughter want to sink into the floor to get away.

9. Mrs. Ferrars: the only positive is that she may randomly give you £200. Cruel, falsely charming, probably still has Edward written out of the will even though Robert committed the real crime (marrying Lucy Steele).

Honorable Mention: Mrs. Musgrove has basically adopted Anne by the end of Persuasion and she is a stellar MIL, the whole family is so welcoming and loving. She is tied with Mrs. Morland.

Dishonorable Mention: Lady Catherine is the novel's stand-in for the orphan Mr. Darcy's family. We know that Elizabeth encouraged her husband to reconcile with his aunt, but why? Why do you want her around Elizabeth? Lady Catherine is tied with Mrs. Bennet.

Side Note, a lot of the heroes and heroines are motherless, Henry Tilney, Colonel Brandon, Captain Wentworth, Fitzwilliam Darcy, Charles Bingley, George Knightley, Emma Woodhouse, and Anne Elliot. So really not a lot of MILs to go around!

[gcholdtrops]

this might sound like a brag but i just need to share it somewhere bc i'm overwhelmed and just estatic this happened ;;;

been studying for the past 5 years, had my final exam in spring where i scored an A+, meaning that i was qualified for a price ... in my country we have this form of education where it's more hands-on, so it consists of a semester of 2-3 months, then apprenticeship the remaining time of the year ... and there's less people taking this route and doing academics instead (which is fine!!!) we just need more hands-on people in the industry. anyway ... both the school and the company you're an apprentice at can send in a recommendation with some words describing you, etc. this is based off of any student taking this form of education, who scores an A+ at their final hands-on exam, so there's around 200-300 students a year that can be chosen where's there is only 25 being picked. i got a mail yesterday saying i was picked as 1 out of the other 25 who'd receive this trophy and honor !!! i got so much positivity by my old boss and my current boss even told me i deserved it, and they were glad they managed to keep having me there ;;; i just ... yeah ... needed to word it out somehow :3.

[mitaukanoarts]

Huh, I never posted her backstory anywhere. Well then. Lets recitify that shall we? Mair Hendwr Backstory -

Gifts are never given freely by the fae, and one such gift the Lord and Lady Hendwr did receive. Two children the Prince of Boars Twrch Trwyth would bestow, but the third would be their own and that was the price he demanded. One fully human child to stay in his kingdom ten years after its birth, he would keep it in his world and then the debt would be repaid.

The third child born was Mair, the most human and mundane of the children. With coal black hair, deep brown eyes and a penchant for mischief she easily made friends and was most glib with her speech, a young couturier in the making it seemed. All would have been well, had the closest noble house not sought out an early marriage arrangement for their daughter as the two children had become fast friends. Tentative agreements were sent, and one last trip to meet with the other nobles to discuss the details at length.

While the children played, the parents plotted. The Lord and Lady Hendwr unwilling to let their ambitions of a greater alliance for their house be stopped by a mere fae bargain signed the proposal for a future alliance of the houses. But Twrch Trwyth is no fool, he waited until the girls played far from the keep, waited untill servants looked away and the older boys clashed sticks in battle before snatching Mair  up in his jaws, a gigantic red bristled boar with red eyes. It would be a memory that scarred her friend, haunting her into adulthood the memory of the red eye’d boar and Mair’s scream of terror.

Though Twrch Trwyth demanded payment he was not cruel or harsh with Mair, though she did see him rage across the Fae realm when his anger did consume him, and from this she learned when to be quiet and when to be seen for even Princes of the Fae have tells for their emotional state. He kept her there for two hundred years though she stopped feeling the effects of age at twenty-five. For two hundred years in a land where time was slippery at best, Mair fought, read, and learned some magic. Any extended time will change any human in the fae realms especially one so close to the Prince of Boars. The hair that grew past her ears, all new growth since coming there was red, her eyes also changed after the first ten years to match Twrch Trwyth’s now she was all but his daughter in blood.

One day, in the eternal sunset of that world he came to her with a proposition. She would be allowed to leave, and return to the world of mortals perhaps even live a full mortal life but only if she established herself in the human court. For Twrch Trwyth had heard rumors that other fae had their hands and eyes on the court of the Britannia’s young King Arthur. The Prince of Boars, being far older and wiser than they, must then have an envoy as well.

So Mair once again found herself brought back into the mortal world, resigned that it must have changed significantly in 200 years. But to her shock, she found while her time in that otherworld had been long in the mortal world it had only been fifteen years. The Prince of Boars had kept her for two mortal lifetimes and while she felt all 200 years the world had not much changed. She was now an outlier older inside than she appeared. Worse yet, her childhood friend had never forgotten her and once a year made her way to the place of Mair’s disappearance to honor the memory, so it was a shock when a woman with eyes like the boar and hair with more red than black appeared in that place.  There was a brief scuffle between the two, the friend being sure the Fae Boar had taken on the appearance of a human to taunt her or as some sort of trick.

She attempts to keep her otherworldly appearance from being a distraction she generally wears a hood to disguise herself. Her hands, and arms, are covered in black blackberry tattoos a reminder of her new home in the fae realm.