#illians

[awesomemontiroberto]

La Stagione Nuova 4 Stagione    2  Puntata   La Stagione Nuova è un programma radiofonico che intervista cantautori emergenti. Va in onda il martedì alle 17.00 su www. radioflyweb.it Conduce Marcella Pappiani - Regia Tiziano Gallo Marcella cerca di intuire quali siano le influenze musicali degli artisti che intervista e collega i loro brani ai grandi successi del passato. Iniziamo con l'intervista a Illians

[crossfalconx5]

Most functional family in flordaddle (2009)

I love these freaks they’re so silly to me

me and the demon wife taking our weird son out for dinner (these two should be in jail for all i know but its whatever)

[pizza-game-posting]

[feretrophobe]

This is kinda old but no one will know unless I explicitly say it out loud which I'm not stupid enough to do.

[adorkableshephard]

Imagine if Tam had brought baby Rand back to Illian and he and Kari raised baby rand with an Illianer accent.

You’d get the Dragon Reborn shouting at Ishamael and the other forsaken like he’s Baile Doman.

Rand’s final showdown/negotiation with Tuon and he’s just muttering Fortune prick me the whole time.

[goodlucksnez]

So I missed March wheel spin because I was busy, but this month it is .......@dr-ground-zero turn! They have always loved my Vi//llian D//eku so I had to make a small thing!

plot: basically the underground mafia boss D//eku calls you to a meeting in their basement, to go over how insubordination will go & how he plans to make his mark in this world...without even a power to his name....it is just too bad someone left some flowers on the stage.

❗ PLEASE NO REBLOGGING TO NON-KINK BLOGS ❗

enjoy!

[anemoxlys]

Oberyn Martel x reader x Ellaria Sand

This is purely self indulgent as I have fallen down the Pedro Pascal rabbit hole (I partially blame DVCREE’s edit on Tik Tok -watch it if you haven’t it’s worth it-)

Word Count: 1.3K or 1,298 Warnings: Illian Payne, abuse (hitting from Illian Payne and Sandor Clegane), Joffrey, beheading, forced marriage (initial) This will be a several part series I just want to see if anyone is intrested before I release the entire fic in one go <3

“Sansa…” You whispered, throat tightening in horror as you stared up at the head of your father sat upon one of the spikes. Tears slowly began to fall from your eyes as you backed away from the ledge, the height of it now being the least of your concerns. “Dog look she’s crying!” You heard Joffrey laugh from somewhere behind you. “M’lady?” You heard the voice of Sandor Clegane speak from beside you before his hand reached for your arm and you flinched away, eyes not leaving the spike. “Y/N, we have to go.” Sansa muttered, grasping your hand in her own before a scream left her lips. “I could just drop you, you know.” Joffrey laughed insanely as Illian Payne grasped your wrists and held you over the ledge at the King’s command. “Sansa!” You screamed, fear clinging to you as you once again began to cry. “Y/N! My Lord, please help her!” Sansa pleaded, tears of her own once again falling down her cheeks. “As my future wife asks.” Joffrey smirked, an evil glint of malice flashing in his eyes. 

“I could have you killed right here, just like your father! Would you like your head to be put up beside him or should I ship it to your bastard brother?” Joffrey sneered as you flinched further and further away from the crossbow that was pointed at your head. “My lord please…” You began before you heard the bolt be loaded and you paled. “She is wearing far too many layers is she not dog?” Joffrey laughed, motioning with the weapon towards the hound. “My lord?” He started before Joffrey interrupted him, “Remove them won’t you?” Your body visibly stiffened as your hands began to tremble. The hound remained as he was, refusing to move and with a small tantrum Joffrey soon demanded Illian Payne do the deed. “Get away from me!” You cried as rough hands grasped at the fabric of your dress. “No!” You shrieked as the tearing sound began. Suddenly it all stopped and, for a brief moment, you were safe before the beatings began. Looking over your shoulder you realised it was Sandor. “I apologise m’lady it’ll hurt less than that bastard.” He muttered before the hits continued. 

At some point you blacked out as you awoke several hours later back in your chambers with dressings on your wounds. “My lady you must rest.” You heard a familiar voice speak from beside you. Immediately, you crept back and away from the voice, muscles tense, until you saw who the voice belonged to and you calmed as much as life at King’s Landing would allow. “Tyrion…” You whispered before tears began to fall down your cheeks. “I want to go home…” You wept as the lord slowly stepped closer to you. “I know… my lady I know.” He sighed in response, taking your hand in both of his.

A few nights passed and before you knew it Joffrey’s name day arrived. You dressed as you always did, spoke nothing as per usual, left your hair down just like any other day and skipped breakfast to avoid the Lannisters. 

Your day only began to differ when the jousting tournament began, and that started as they always did- Illian Payne and the Hound gaining victory after victory. Until a new contestant entered the arena that is. The way his body moved was mesmerising, almost like a dance. The motions reminded you ever so much of flowing water. “The Dornish Prince, Prince Oberyn.” Tyrion explained to you, noticing how entranced you appeared to be with the man. “He moves very beautifully, does he not?” You asked, a soft smile gracing your lips for the first time in what felt like a millenia. “Indeed.” The Lord agreed, both of you failing to notice the raven haired woman in the crowd staring curiously up at you.

That night celebrations of the King’s Name Day could be heard throughout the citadel, most however celebrated the victory of the Dornish Prince against Illian Payne after his victory against Sandor Clegane. 

You walked silently past the Red Viper and the woman sat beside him in an attempt to escape the banquet hall when a whining voice reached your ears, causing you to flinch slightly where you stood now still. “Where do you think you’re going Stark? We will miss you ever so much, come give us a show like you did before or should I get Illian Payne to show you how again?” Joffrey snickered as chuckles and laughter followed the King’s remarks. “Apologies, the lady was just on her way to me.” You heard an unfamiliar voice reply on your behalf. Upon looking in the direction of the voice you rapidly found it’s owner as none other than the Prince of Dorne himself as the woman sat beside him raked her eyes up and down your body. 

“Thank you, my prince.” You quietly spoke, nodding your head at the two attractive people before you. “It is of no bother to me, what is your name?” Oberyn returned, motioning for you to sit beside him. “Y/N Stark, of Winterfell, my prince.” You answered, the usual homesick feeling creeping into your stomach at the mention of the homeland you so wished to return to. “A gorgeous name, much befitting of its owner.” The Prince complimented before motioning to the woman sitting beside him, “This is Ellaria Sand, mother of all eight of my daughters back in Dorne.” “Eight daughters, that must be difficult, I can only imagine how difficult it was for my parents with my two sisters and I.” You replied, sitting down beside the Prince of Dorne. “They are angels. They do not cause any trouble.” Ellaria answered, standing to walk behind you and seat herself beside you instead of Oberyn. 

The conversation, although mildly awkward, was interesting and flirtatious, you on the receiving and viewing end, and was regrettably cut short by a clanging of metal against glass. “People!” Joffrey’s voice cut through the peaceful, mindless discussion you were so much enjoying. “As a celebration of my name day I would like to announce an alliance of two houses. After much consideration I believe it to be the benefit and advantage of everyone involved. After all, the people of Dorne can hardly tell the difference between sheep and women anyway, so how hard is it to confuse a cow with a woman?” The king attempted to joke as a few nervous laughs flew across the room. “The proposal is between our esteemed champion and guest, Oberyn Martell and the cow of the narrative Y/N Stark.” The king finished as actual laughter reached people’s lips. 

You remained frozen in place, the only part of you that moved being your shaking hands before you stood up and quickly left the banquet hall. 

“You can’t go to Dorne!” Sansa muttered, clasping your hands in her own- preventing you from continuing to pack your meagre belongings into a bag. “I must Sansa.” You replied, tears once again pricking at your eyes. “Do not let them see you cry little sister.” Sansa whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead before pulling you into an embrace. “No matter what, you will always be my sister. You will always be a Stark.” She murmured, tears of her own falling from her eyes and rolling down her cheeks. “I know. I will miss you dear sister.” You admitted, clinging ever closer to your older sister, in a feeble attempt to never let go, to never leave. “First father, then Arya, then Robb and Mother, now you. Stay safe. I do not think I could manage another family member leaving forever.” You whispered, kissing her cheek before you pulled away, dried your eyes and made for the door. 

If you want to be tagged please comment and I will tag you in the complete fic.

Thanks for reading

[endy-x]

Siv Illian

A Normal Civilian and not a cop in my tiny style

Extra Tiny version below

[wot-tidbits]

[chocoblep]

#23: The Jeweler

Prompt: On Cloud Nine

Illian strolled through the Jeweled Crozier, heading for a shop that he liked to frequent whenever he was in Ishgard proper. It was a jeweler, and they dealt not only in cut stones and settings, but also raw gems for foci and other uses. Today he was on an errand; he’d been contacted by the shop’s owner, and he needed to stop in to take a look at a stone that had come into their possession. This one was important; he’d been asking for a blue opal of sufficient quality for a project that he was working on, and if this one was sufficient, he’d likely be able to make the sentinel earrings he’d been working on a reality. 

He’d heard of a ring that someone had developed that put a shield around a person that fit like a second skin. They employed blue opals, which was not surprising given that those stones were often used in protective spells to begin with, and he wanted to see if he could duplicate that effect with an earring. If he could, then M’rath would be much better protected, even without a bodyguard, though having one was usually very effective in preventing attacks from occurring in the first place. Still, when one dealt in money, one made enemies, and Illian was determined to keep his friend safe.

He walked into the shop, pausing with the door still open to tap some of the snow from the bottoms of his shoes before wiping them on the mat. His ears twitched as he caught snippets of the conversation that was happening between a couple and the shopkeep. Settling himself near the other end of the counter, he waited for his turn.

“I really had my heart set on the mythril,” the Elezen lady said, and looked at the man standing beside her. “Are you certain we couldn’t afford this pair?”

“Not if we’d still like to get them enchanted,” the man replied. Our budget wouldn’t cover both…”

“Perhaps if we waited on the enchantment?” she asked, her brown eyes hopeful.

“Ah, I was hoping we could do that before the ceremony, so that our oaths and the enchantment went hand in hand. But with the price that enchanter quoted us, we wouldn’t be able to afford both.”

The woman turned to look longingly at a set of wedding bands. Illian’s brow furrowed, and he slid closer along the counter. 

“Excuse me,” he said softly, and the trio turned to look at him. “I happen to be an enchanter as well. Perhaps I could give a second opinion?”

“Oh,” the shopkeep said, brightening. “Yes! Master Runetide is not just an enchanter, he is also an inventor, and very knowledgeable besides! He would be a good one to ask about enchantments.”

“Ah, you flatter me, Rinelle,” he said, waving off her compliment. “I simply overheard and couldn’t help but wonder if you were given a fair price. What kind of enchantments were you wanting, and what were you quoted?”

The man looked Illian up and down, and he was suddenly glad that he’d chosen one of his fancier jackets. Idly he wondered if his ears were poking out of his hair–he typically arranged it when he was in Ishgard to hide the pointed tips to avoid racists. Apparently he was satisfied with what he saw, because when he spoke, it wasn’t to tell Illian to buzz off. Instead, it was to inform him that they were looking for two simple enchantments–a resize enchant that was coded to its owner only, and a warming enchant for the cold weather. When he rattled off the price he’d been quoted, Illian arched his brows.

“I hate to inform you, but for two simple enchants such as those–even on two pieces instead of one–you are being swindled. Depending on the starting material, enchantments can be complicated, but mythril is highly conductive, and so the materials you would not need to use nearly as much in the way of spellcasting components to attach the enchantments. It’s part of why mythril is so expensive. Have you signed a contract with this other enchanter already for the work?”

“Ah, no,” the man replied. “We were going to do that today, after picking out the rings.”

“All right, then. I have a proposal for you.” Illian fixed them both with a smile and pulled out a business card, and then turned it over and pulled a self-inking quill from his pocket. Uncapping it, he beckoned it to life, and it scrawled out a series of numbers for different enchantment options. When he set it down on the counter, he capped the pen and stowed it again. “I will offer you a safety net. If you wish to stay with the enchanter you’ve met already, show this to them. With mythril rings specifically, you could easily enchant them with a resizing spell with a single keyed host or about this much,” he began, tapping his finger next to the first number. They all huddled around it. “If you wanted just a simple warming spell, tack on this much,” he said, tapping the second number, and then pointed his finger at the third. “But if you wanted a temperature regulation spell that would also keep you cool in warmer climes, tack on this much instead. That is how much I would charge you for this job, and that includes both rings. If they will not match my price, or at least give you something more fair…” He picked up the card, turned it over, and held it out to them. “Then I will do it for that quoted price.”

The pair stared at him, and then the man took the card. “That’s…. That’s a little over half the other’s price,” the man breathed, relief relaxing his shoulders a bit. “Thank you…” he squinted down at the card, and then smiled. “Illian Runetide. What a fortuitous name.” Then he turned to his wife-to-be. “I think, with this, we can get the mythril rings and the enchants.”

The squeal that left the woman before she brought her hands up to cover her mouth was one of pure delight, and she looked to Rinelle and then pointed to the pair of rings she’d been lamenting over before. “We’ll take those, then!”

Rinelle looked over to Illian gratefully before pulling the pair of rings out. “And if you are getting the resizing enchant put on them, then I could knock off the resizing fee that is typically included in the price.”

“Oh! Wonderful!” the man said, and then turned again to beam over at Illian. “Thank you, ser. We will contact you, most likely. You seem a much more trustworthy sort, and you have truly made both of us so very happy.” He held out his hand for a shake, which Illian took with a smile.

“I do not typically advertise my services, as I work directly for a man in the Shroud, but I do offer my services from time to time,” he replied. “I just couldn’t stand to see you pay more than you needed to on such simple things. Weddings are expensive enough.”

When the couple had left the shop, Rinelle ducked into her storage room and came out with a parcel, which she unwrapped on the counter to display about six blue opals. “I ended up with more than I thought I would, so you've got your pick this go ‘round,” she said, giving him a smile. “I know you said you only needed two, but pick four. I’ll give them to you for the same price.”

Illian looked up at Rinelle, his lips curling into a lopsided grin. “Really, now? Why, Rinelle, you’d better be careful, someone might get to thinking you’re sweet on me.”

The shopkeep scoffed, but her cheeks gained a bit of color. “Oh, come on, Illian, we both know I’m sweet on what good you do for business.”

He leaned in, lowering his voice to something almost sultry as he asked, “is that why you told me to come by at four bells? Because you knew I’d get you an upsell?”

Rinelle gasped, an almost affronted look on her face. “No, no! It wasn’t the upsell! It was because I know them, and I know that enchanter, and I was hoping I might be able to bring you both together to spare them from being overcharged.”

“And the upsell,” Illian said, waggling his blonde brows.

“Well, I’m not made of money, you know! Best get to picking before I change my mind, you miscreant!”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he said with a little salute, which only made her laugh. They chattered about his most recent innovations as he figured out which opals to take with him, and then headed for the door. When he twisted to wave at her on his way out, he was surprised to see that her entire face was red. Oh. Well, he wouldn’t comment on that.

This time.

[brick-van-dyke]

Thinking about how "self defence" is considered okay until a country the west is not allied with does it.

[adri-atics]

Was anybody going to tell me last 200 pages of The Great Hunt were absolutely life-changing incredible or was I supposed to find that out by losing my shit on a plane myself?

[bison2winquote]

Illian Federov, Last Bout: Styles Will Clash (Sean Altly)

[pizza-game-posting]

[softsnzstuff]

For those that are interested, within the first minute of this presentation, RDJ mentions having a headcold and then dramatically sniffles.

[justmaghookit]

Illians have a leg up in interacting with humans as they are a warmblooded mammalian like species.

This is a double edged sword because they are also firmly in the "adorable" category to most human sensibility and being seen as a sentient plush toy isn't always conductive to interspecies politics.