#sf the knight

[bugs-in-situations]

we are currently redesigning. Every Slugcat (canon and our ocs/au characters) because of Reasons. it's going slowly but we did these slug fables last night

[scootarooni]

............................so.....ive been reading dungeon meshi..............

[divinekangaroo]

Started reading Lymond Chronicles after @deadendtracks' comment that SK must've read them too / based Tommy on Lymond....

and like i'm what, at ch3 or 4 maybe and...

yeahhhhhhhhhh XD

[skate2victory]

art block doodles

all characters (besides chester) were suggested by my friends :)

[claire-starsword]

Bloodline of the Sacred Dragons - Chapter 3-8 & 3-9

He caused great damage, but having been finally defeated, Ziduur no longer posed a threat to the continent of Rune. That made everyone's hearts at least a little lighter.

"This is so terribly wrecked," Guntz freaked out as he inspected the damages on the Pao Train. Strangely, there was some happiness in his face too. There were parts of the machine he so far hesitated to touch or take apart, but now, to repair it, he would fiddle with them to his heart's content.

"But I'll fix it. Yes, I believe I'll have it all back to normal in three months," Guntz said to Koron, making a rough estimate.

"If that is how long it will be, there is nothing we can do. I'm just happy it can be fixed," Koron replied humbly. She hid a small sigh from everyone's sight.

The only good news is that the living quarters in the back cars were all okay. They wouldn't be able to act as a caravan for a while, but at least they could still live without issue.

"No, make that two months. That is, if I help."

All of a sudden, Krin had entered the conversation.

"That'd be great, if I call Master Crock and Lyle it will go even faster," Guntz went along with her.

"Leave it to me."

Although Koron couldn't deny a certain fear, she left the job in their hands.

"That's how it is, so, I'll be staying here," Krin told Karin nonchalantly.

She had always been one to jump into an idea as soon as she had it. Karin only smiled bitterly at her little sister's selfishness.

"Do as you please. That's just like you, anyway."

With her sister's permission, Krin went to Guntz, and they began to struggle together with the bunch of blueprints he had made. Very quickly, they had shut down everything else from their attention. Next to them, Cerberus laid down, seemingly bored as she watched her master move around.

Bleu gave his farewells to Koron once again. With Krin and Cerberus staying behind, the group of six continued to Uranbatol.

"Take care, Sir Bleu. Lady Karin, I will take great care of your younger sister as well. To everyone, may good meetings and the Light's protection be with you."

Sent away with these words of Queen Koron, the group left the Pao Plains.

***9***

The centaurs that once fought alongside Bleu were gathered in Uranbatol. With the help of Queen Koron, they had built a new town focused on sea trade.

"Seems like you had a hard journey. Until we finish preparations for your ship, you should relax and rest."

The governor of Uranbatol, Earnest, laughed brightly while buried in mountains of paperwork. Bleu added an official letter from Queen Koron to the piles. The letter contained a request for aid in the form of materials and provisions for the restoration of the Pao Train, and for a ship for Bleu's group to cross the ocean with.

"Still, those ocean monsters that escaped from us were defeated there, huh."

"You mean what a shame, don't you?"

Vankar poked fun at Arthur.

"Well, they wrecked half of our warships, so I wanted us to be the ones to finish them off."

Pelle laughed bitterly. He likely meant it.

The harbor, which was their whole livelihood, had to be closed off due to the kraken's attack. They immediately dispatched warships after it, and managed to sink the ship that seemed to be controlling the monster. However, a good part of the devils in there managed to get into the land.

When it came to the kraken, they couldn't leave a scratch on it. Half of their ships were sunken, unable to do anything against underwater attacks, and the fleet had to retreat in panic.

After that the kraken vanished, and they missed their chance at revenge.

"If you're on a journey, why don't we come along?" Pelle proposed, as if looking for an outlet for his burning fighting spirit. He used to be a wandering mercenary, and the idea of traveling to an unknown continent seemed to have greatly picked up his interest.

"You can't, each of you should know very well why," Earnest stopped him with no space for excuses.

"The only one busy here is you, uh, sir. Ah, I guess Arthur also has his hands full reforming the navy. Then, it'll be just me and ol' Vankar. So, that good for you, Bleu?"

Bleu struggled to answer. Earnest made a look that said 'don't indulge him'.

"We're not gathering a whole force to invade the place… but I appreciate the sentiment. Thanks, Pelle."

Pelle clicked his tongue at Bleu's reply. Vankar laughed heartly at him.

"Pelle, Vankar, I'm sending you two as messengers to Her Majesty Koron. You'll guard the supplies during transportation and the train while it is repaired. If some unlucky bandits come by, then you can kick their asses as you want. …Which is not something I should say with ladies present, is it?"

Earnest laughed, while Arthur agreed with a serious face. The governor turned to him a bit offended, but then Arthur grinned at him. Earnest snorted back at his friend.

"Then, how long will it take for a ship to be ready?"

Arthur told Camallia it would take around two days.

"Then, you and I can discuss the details. Until the ship is ready, we'll take your offer and relax in town."

Saying that to dismiss them, Bleu went with Arthur to another room.

To the next part>

[downthetubes]

New Eagle Times spotlights pioneering female comic artist Lily Renée

The fist issue of Eagle Times, the journal of the Eagle Society, is available now, the cover spotlighting pioneering female comic artist Lily Renée Wilhelm, aka Lily Renée

[surethingath]

Next to my heart I keep your name.

In my heart it beats your name

In my mind there is no delay

[cosmic-showdown]

cosmic showdown round 1

galaco & sf-a2 miki & stardust/xingchen (vocaloid): She has a space theme to her

She's a robot. Her V4 design has a star theme.

Called Stardust, space themed design

galacta knight (kirby): called the Greatest Warrior in the Galaxy

[objuct]

This is finally done :"D Took way longer than I intended, but eh.

Knight Set

Unfortunately due to the limited UV space for horse accessories as well as the limited wearable categories of items for horses, this set isn't as versatile as i originally wanted it to be. But I did my best to make it as usable as possible and some items can be used outside of the set, like the saddle itself.

Horse Ranch Required

Non-default

New Mesh & Textures

Feel free to make retextures / recolors / mesh edits! (like everything else i make)

Disabled for Random

Some things to note:

The reins are decorative and nonfunctional, and are optional.

Due to the shared uv space across the various items, some things will not be usable with other things (like the only saddle that will work for the blanket is the included saddle)

The Neck/Head armor is Halter, the Neck/Head cape is Hat, the Blanket is Saddlepad, the Saddle is Saddle (wow), and the Reins/Saddle Tassels are Tail accessory.

DOWNLOAD - SFS

[bugs-in-situations]

SLUG FABLES JUMPSCARE

SLUGS? NO WAY?

Houuuguhg this is so good we love the framing and the background and the way you drew the knight and everything. eating this eating this e

[asumofwords]

Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: Hello my babies, this has certainly been a build up, say 98 chapters long? Thank you all so much for your love, and messages, and support, I really hope you enjoy the way I eventually end SF&A. This was originally two shorter chapters, but I decided to combine them together instead. Bold italics are inner thoughts and flash backs as per usual. I have so much more I want to say but won't because you want to read it, and obviously we will talk after!!! Enjoy <3

Chapter 98: Hand Turns Loom, Hen Kasta naejot Zōbrie

When your mother had been crowned, you remember the day clearly.

How all the Lords and Ladies around you, knights, Maesters, maids; all those in her presence bent the knee.

All but Rhaenys.

How the sound of their rustling robes, their shifting pommels of armour, or clanking of their swords filled the air around you. 

How your heart had swelled with pride, how deep and pure it had been. How you had felt adoration, devotion, and had no second thought about digging your knee into the ground below, bowing your head to your Queen. 

But now, your knees would not budge, not even if you had wanted them to. 

They did not bend, or creak, or crack.

They locked. 

Refusing to drop down to the stone floor below. Refusing to meet the cold, hard surface, which would no doubt send crawling ice up your knees and body, but not only that, it would be to give in. 

To give up.

To bend the knee to a monster.

And you had endured far too much to do that.

Too far to turn back now.

You would not bend the knee to Aegon, and so there you stood, in the throne room, before the Iron Throne, and the Small Council, refusing to kneel.

Refusing to swear him as your King.

Refusing to back down. 

Gods be good.

Be on my side.

You could feel the heated gaze of your husband, and yet you did not tear your own away from the man before you, who took slow and calculated steps, each one echoing into the sparse hall as his boots thumped against the stones.

You did not try to move, nor would you have had the chance with the guards behind you, their presence coming closer. The warmth of their bodies behind you made the hair on the back of your neck to stand on end.

His violet eyes bore into your own.

His own flesh and blood.

His niece.

Your uncle.

Someone you had grown up beside. Someone who you had played with, and laughed with, and fought with. Someone who had grown into the monster he was today. And so he stalked towards you, and still you did not kneel.

Aegon, watching your refusal, looked to the guards on either side of you, and nodded. 

Dracarys, Lucerys whispered in your mind.

Your knees hit the ground with a resounding crack, pain shooting up the both of them as the guards had grabbed you by each shoulder and forced you to the stone floor. Aemond shifted in your periphery, and you saw Alicent go to him quickly, grabbing his arm to keep him back, and yet you could not take your eyes away from the man who stood before you, hand resting atop the hilt of his sword, Conquerors Crown atop his silver waves. 

This was it.

Today the Stranger comes for me.

Aegon smiled down at you as he watched you come to the realisation. And yet still, you made no move to swear yourself to him. No move to call him King. No move to save yourself. And although you had been forced to your knees before him, you had not bent them of your own accord.

“The punishment for a crime like this is death.” Aegon boomed to the chambers, voice echoing off the stone walls, his steps becoming slower as he came closer towards you, "I could have you hanged on the wall, or send you to the butchers block. Perhaps I could even feed you to Sunfyre.”

“Aegon.” Aemond's voice came from behind, clipped and short, held back by the last threads of his resolve.

You let yourself look at your husband, and saw that he had made his way closer, though Alicent still stood in front of him, hand on his chest as an act of a human barricade between her two sons. 

Holding him back.

“Silence.” Aegon boomed, “Ser Otto, if Aemond speaks again, have him arrested and taken down to the cells where he can stay until the sentence has been served.”

You had thought to look to Aemond with your eyes for help, to beg for him to come to you, but all you had seen was the same man who had left you the last time you were here.

There was no saving you this time.

Dracarys.

The Small Council remained silent, not even Otto Hightower seemed to think he could talk reason into the King, and so he stood, eyes looking over the top of you at the opposite side of the throne Aemond was. 

The King hummed, looking down his nose at you as a wide smile cracked across his pink lips, “Or…" He breathed, "You could take your place at my side as my wife.”

Wife. 

Wife.

Ice ran down your back as you looked at him, your heart beating rapidly in your chest, fingers tingling from the grip the guards had on your shoulders and arms.

It was in that moment, that you knew there was no going back from this.

Dracarys.

“Annul your marriage to my brother in the eyes of the Seven, and I shall take you as my second wife.” He purred, the proposition sounding as though it was a benevolent offering, when all those who were present truly knew the more sinister reasoning behind it, “You may atone for your sins and crimes by birthing me heirs, as is your purpose, whilst also upholding the terms of the treaty. An honour given to you which you don’t deserve.”

You jolted forward, grunting, trying to rip the arms of the guards from you so that you could launch yourself forward. Muscles in your arms burning from the struggle.

You were going to die.

And you would not go down without ripping his throat out with your teeth. 

The guards hands tightened further, seams of your gown ripping as you struggled from below. Your eyes flicked momentarily to Aemond again, who looked as though he was fighting a battle of his own, but you knew, deep down you knew, he would do nothing.

As he always had.

And so you kept your eyes on the brother in front of you.

“My Husband-“ You began, venom dripping from your tongue.

“-Is my brother.” Aegon snipped, “And swore himself to me as King. He is bound by duty to the realm, and duty to the Crown. Aemond should be honoured that I would take his wife as my own. You would be wed to a King, not a second son.”

You sneered, trying to throw yourself forward at him, but Aegon did not flinch, and the guards pulled you backwards hastily, knees grazed by the stones below.

“Fuck you.” You hissed, teeth grinding against each other, heat in your cheeks, and blood thumping in your veins.

Dracarys.

The King laughed, head thrown back and violet eyes shut before he locked them back onto you. He smiled appreciatively, eyes roaming down your face, to the tight bodice of your dress and the way your skirts clung to your waist, all the way down to your knees on the stone.

“You are ready to serve me, as you are.” Your eldest uncle turned his head to look back at Aemond, “I will make her a good wife, one that can be tamed. One who will obey and follow orders, and all the while the treaty will be held. I am far more capable of tending to her needs, and a marriage to me is far better than death.”

You swirled your tongue in your mouth before spitting upon Aegon’s leather boots, “I will kill myself before I ever let you touch me again. I will throw myself from the window Helaena did rather than have your monster grow inside of me. And then my family will come you. Fire and blood, they will come. And you will die.” 

The pain came before you registered what had happened, the sting spreading across your cheek as your head snapped to the side of the room, eyes trained tearily on the floor.

Alicent was heard in the background, hissing to her younger son, "Stop!"

Your ears rang, and you tasted the coppery tang of blood in your mouth.

You slowly turned your head back to the King, hair having fallen over your face from where it had come loose from your braids. You spat a bloody glob of spit at him again, attempting to aim higher, but the blood merely sprayed towards him and landed at his feet.

Dracarys.

His eyes narrowed, and his lips pulled back into a sneer.

“The Princess must have a weapon on hand. Strip her.” Aegon commanded, eyes jerking towards Ser Cole, who shuffled awkwardly on his feet.

Your head snapped towards the knight, “Touch me, and I will kill you. I’ll fucking kill you, Cole.”

Ser Criston Cole, a man sworn to his King, known as King Maker, stood dumbly as he looked to you and then to the man who commanded him. His tan skin was flushed at his neck, a pinkish purple spreading up from beneath the breastplate he wore, and his piercing eyes darting back and forth in decision. 

This was not the first time that Ser Cole had been commanded to act in way that was not in protection of who he was sworn to. 

Once before with Alicent.

And now with her son.

The Dowager Queen made quick steps towards you both, “Aegon.” She growled, leaving her younger son behind as her feet echoed on the stone floor, "Stop this madness."

You desperately tried to wriggle out of the guards grip, hissing and grunting, knees digging painfully into the stones as your dress ripped beneath.

A knight came towards Alicent, hand held outwards towards her in preventing her from coming any further, “The treaty, Aegon. Think of how Rhaenyra will react when she hears about this!”

Aegon snapped his head towards his mother, “Fuck the treaty.” He sneered, looking back at Ser Cole, “I command you to strip this traitor, and reveal the weapon she no doubt hides on her person.”

Ser Cole swayed, his long, white cloak grazing against the cold stone floors as he started to slowly approach you, eyes on you with a look of regret. A look of apprehension.

One of pity. One of guilt. One of disgust.

They were going to strip you.

Before all the eyes of the Council.

“You’re a monster.” You hissed, ripping a hand from one of the guards, reaching out to grasp at the King’s robes who stood in front of you, fingertips grazing his breeches. 

For the first time, Aegon flinched backwards, and the guards rushed forward again, yanking you backwards and holding your arms behind you as you cussed, and cursed at them all, pain rippling through your arms.

“Kostagon se Jaes' ossēnagon jeme! Kostagon pōnta ivestragī nyke urnēbagon jeme zālagon. Kostagon pōnta tepagon nyke se kustikāne naejot gaomagon ziry nykēla. Jaelan naejot urnēbagon se ōños fade hen aōha qogralbar laesi skori gaoman ziry.”

May the Gods kill you all! May they let me watch you all burn. May they give me the strength to do it myself. I want to watch the light fade from your fucking eyes when I do it.

Aegon leant forward, looking down at you as you struggled, voice quieter now, tutting, “I still remember how wet your cunt had been. How much you bled, and cried. How you called out for my brother. For your father. Kepa!" He mocked you, your stomach roiled and rage nipped at you hotly.

Dracarys.

"I wish it had been me,” He smiled cruelly, “I wish I had taken your maidenhead, like I should have taken it years ago. I should have fucked a bastard into you before you left the Keep.”

Tears welled in your eyes as you looked at him, lips curling back in disgust.

Baring your teeth back at him, you pulled at the guards grip, “You are nothing but a worthless, drunken, whoring King, who took naught but a moment until you spilled yourself inside of me. You are the most pathetic excuse for a man."

The King's face rippled with anger, brows drawn as his chest began to heave.

Ser Cole stood to the side, uncertain of what to do, unwilling to move again until commanded, Ser Otto watching with a stoney face, the Small Council shifting on their feet, all the while Alicent stood behind, guard preventing her from moving forward. 

The chambers fell still, and Aegon sucked in his cheeks, gathering the spit inside of his mouth, pursing his lips to spit upon you. 

A wet warmth landed upon your cheek.

-

It had been a warm day in Kings Landing.

The small folk had flocked to the beaches, dipping their toes and their clothes into the cold waves, desperate to cool off.

The Red Keep was no different.

Men and women gathered in the shade, or sat in their chambers, fans in hand, whilst servants served them cool cups of ale and wine.

Aegon, being the eldest, had devised a plan to keep cool that day. You were all to hide amongst the secret passageways, the cold stone walls protecting you all from the heat outside, but being the kids that you were, it would not stop you from playing. 

“Let the girl get the treats.” Aegon smiled, light leaking into the passageway from the room beside it.

“Why do I have to go to the Kitchens?” You argued, annoyance rolling through you.

Aegon looked to your brothers, and then shortly to Aemond, who all stood in front of you in a line, “Because you’re a girl. One day you’ll be someone’s wife and have to fetch things for your husband. I’m giving you practice.” 

Luc and Jace looked at each other, and snickered, though their laughter fell when you gazed at them angrily, “If you want the treats so badly, why don’t you get them. I’m not a maid.” You huffed, folding your arms across your chest. 

Aemond shuffled beside his brother, looking down at the dusty floor, scuffing the tip of his shoe into the surface.

Aegon smirked, “You’d be a pretty maid. Mine are all so dull and plain.”

“I’m not going.”

Aegon looked at the three boys beside him, “All in favour for Y/n going to get us treats?” His hand shot up as he loudly proclaimed ‘Aye.’

Jace and Lucerys followed suit, hands lower and voices even lower, their brown eyes refusing to meet yours. 

All turned to Aemond, who did not speak, and had raised his violet eyes towards you. 

“Come on brother, don’t be a twat.” Aegon chided.

“He’s not a twat, you cunt.” You snipped back.

Aegon laughed, “Come on, niece, play nicely. I’ll even give you a kiss.” Aegon puckered his lips towards you, making kissing noises whilst Jace and Luc scrunched their face in disgust and laughed.

“Leave her alone.” Aemond growled, finally speaking up.

The eldest Prince looked at your two brothers before bursting into laughter, “Sticking up for your love, Aem?”

“Shut up, Aegon.” You snapped.

“Make me.” He grinned, stepping towards you as he pushed you to the ground, you landed on your back with an grunt, staring daggers at Aegon as you jumped up, moving to punch him. 

Your eldest uncle was jolted from the side, falling into the narrow walls of the pathway, a cry falling from his lips. His pale hands scrambling to catch himself as he fell into the stone.

Aemond stood, chest heaving as he watched his brother come to the realisation that he had pushed him.

“You little-“

Aegon jumped at Aemond, grabbing him by the scruff of his collar, jerking the younger boy around. 

Jace and Luc watched on with wide eyes as you raced forward, "Let go of him!” You screamed.

Aegon’s arm cast out to the side and pushed you to the floor again, your head hitting the stone wall behind you. 

You blinked, eyes filling with tears. 

Aegon immediately let go of his brother and looked down at you. A tear rolled down your cheek as the back of your head throbbed, a hand coming to rub against the spot of impact. 

Aemond raced over to you, kneeling down to check your head. 

He turned to his brother, “I’m telling mother.”

Aegon sensing that there was no more fun to be had, spun around and left the secret passage, your brothers following closely behind, casting short glances to you to see if you were okay. 

You sniffed, trying to blink away the tears in the shadows, but Aemond didn’t point them out. He came to sit beside you, back against the bricks, and you let your head drop onto his shoulder. 

“Your brother is such a dick.”

Aemond sighed in agreement.

-

The floor of the throne room was cold.

Icy even.

Despite the beams of sun that landed colourfully onto the floor, streaming in through the stained glass windows, the stone would never warm. They would stay the same, icy, coldness that they always had been. 

Unforgiving. 

And they were just that, unforgiving.

Laid down beneath a tower of melted and twisted metal, made from an unforgiving King. A throne that lacked a soft edge, a show of compassion or kindness, even to those who were seated upon it.

The Iron Throne, for all intents and purposes, was just that. 

Unforgiving.

Sharp and cold, made entirely of blades from those who had been conquered, those who had been slain, those who had fallen. And now your family sat atop it. A show of your ancestor, Aegon the First and all of his triumph. All of his power.

All of his mercilessness.

The skin of your cheek felt wet, Lucerys had stopped his whispering, and the world around you was oddly quiet. As though your ears had been stuffed with cotton, the muffled sound of the room around you making it hard to discern what was happening. And yet still, there was this odd feeling that spread around your chest.

Like the stone floors of the Iron Throne chambers, it was cold.

Icy.

They had always been a brilliant violet colour.

Your families legacy paired with the silver locks. And Aegon’s eyes had always been so telling of his moods, just like his brother. Telling of his thoughts, like a window to his inner workings and mechanisms.

It was always so. 

They would dance when he was mischievous as a child, and as he got older, they would deepen with unspoken grief and paranoia. 

But when Aegon was angry, they would become alight. Seemingly brightened by the flames that would lick him hotly at his cheeks, the colour lightening and eyes having more movement.

It’s how it always was.

And as you looked into Aegon’s eyes, you realised how much they had changed already. 

The rage that had been dancing and swaying behind his eyes not a moment before, was now gone. Like a fire that had been snuffed out, a light that had been trampled upon, a lamp that had been extinguished. And now they looked up at you blankly, as you blinked down at them from below.

The noises around you became louder as you continued to stare.

A woman was screaming.

Why was she screaming?

Guards were crying out, men were cursing, and all you could do, was look at the head on the floor in front of your knees, and the blood that slowly leaked from its neck and mouth, seeping into the material of your skirts. 

You wished she would stop screaming. 

Someone kept saying your name, but you could not tear your eyes from the man below you. His silver waves were tinged with red as the blood spread into his silky strands, his mouth agape, but silent.

Finally silent.

His eyes were what really changed.

They were dull.

Lifeless, and almost grey looking. 

Gone.

Aegon’s body was slumped beside it, arms and legs bent at unnatural angles, and blood leaking out onto the cold stones below. The thinner sections of blood had already begun to coagulate, the coldness sucking out any warmth from it and seeping into the porous surface beneath. 

Life that spread and was soaked up greedily.

Like so many times before, the stones were fed with the essence of another. 

How many more would face the same fate?

The coldness in your chest melted away, and a warmth spread through it, travelling up your throat, until it left your lips in a breathy laugh. 

And then it kept coming. 

And it did not stop.

You stared at Aegon’s head and laughed. 

It was not something that you could have stopped if you had wanted it to, it did not even feel like you were in your own body, looking down from somewhere else in the room, perhaps even over your own shoulder. But the more you laughed, the louder the woman’s screams became, until someone spoke your name again, but louder. 

You blinked, finally tearing your eyes away from the corpse of your uncle, the man who had raped you. The man who had driven your aunt to death. The man who had usurped the throne from your mother.

The man who had dealt so much cruelty. 

And your eyes were met with, not the dull, lifeless violet that you had once been staring at, but instead a vision of violet and sapphire. 

Aemond.

The Prince stood in front of you, looking down with a hard and stony face, jaw clenched and lips pressed into a line. Like his brother, his eye was the window to his soul, and flickering in the background was rage.

His shoulders were stiff, his body was tensed, and yet a hand was held out, steady towards you, palm up, scar revealed. The other was holding his sword tightly, body in a fighting stance, the blade dripping with thick viscous blood.

The blood of his brother.

Movement was all around you, and the woman still would not stop screaming.

Aemond barked at the room, “Hold!”

And the room fell still again.

All but the woman who screamed, and the men who cursed quietly beneath their breath.

You stared at Aemond's hand, the scar on his palm looking soft and pink, travelling up the length of pale skin. And with your own, you lifted and placed it in his, the strength of his arm pulling you to stand.

You knees popped and stung as you stood, the skin rubbed raw by the stone floors, dress ripped in some places. Guards stood dumbly on the side of the room unsure of what to do, all in shock.

Your husband flicked his blade to the side, blood spraying off of it onto the stones.

More food to feed them.

Aemond sheathed it back into its holder on his hip with one hand, the other holding yours firmly. 

God you wished she would stop screaming. 

Aemond bent down to the corpse of his brother, no regret, or grief on his face, instead a steady blanket of disgust and hatred instead. With his long fingers, he scooped the Conquerors Crown from the stone floor, looking down at it as he turned it slowly in his hand above Aegon.

The metal glinted, and the ruby in its centre glowed when the light shone over of it.

“What have you done?!” The woman screamed again, your head turning to see Alicent being held back by her father and guards, “What have you done?!”

Ser Otto Hightower, stood with nothing but shock in his eyes as he looked between his two grandsons, the one on the floor, and the one standing above him. His arms were wrapped around Alicent’s chest, keeping her pressed against him as she thrashed.

“He was to be our undoing.” Aemond stated bluntly, voice loud within the chambers.

Ser Cole did not move. 

The Small Council did not move. 

And all that could be heard was the screams of a grieving mother.

“Ser Cole.” Aemond gave the man what appeared to be a silent order.

Cole was a man who had been a father figure to him. A man who had trained him in swordsmanship and battle. A man who he had grown beside and watched support his mother.

And Ser Criston Cole obeyed, staying where he was, and all other guards and knights followed. 

Your eyes roamed down his body, to where the white cloak, pinned to the pommels of his armour, soaked the blood of the King on the floor below. It tinged the white a deep red, and bled up the material, as though it had been thirsting for blood this whole time, much like the stones.

Aegon was dead.

And Aemond had killed him.

“What have you done, Aemond?! Your brother! The King!” Alicent cried, voice distressed as she screamed at her only surviving child.

Aemond ignored his mother, turning to you, a singular word falling from his lips.

“Come.”

The throne room was filled with your footfall as Aemond led you towards the Iron throne, Alicent’s cries which had turned to soft sobs, and the whispers of the Small Council.

No-one brave enough to speak up, or out against the Prince.

Aemond walked up the throne steps, as though he was born for it, as though he had practised each step with perfection. Each step taken was with purpose, as though he knew it was his true duty and right.

And you followed after, hand still in his, mind still in a daze.

You stared at the Iron Throne as he turned softly to sit himself upon it. 

He looked comfortable.

At home.

Perfectly fitted for it, as though he was made for it. 

With a look of determination, he handed you the crown, the heavy metal resting in both of your hands as you look down at it.

Alicent cried louder.

The room was still.

You locked eyes with Aemond’s violet and sapphire gaze.

And lifted the crown to place it atop his head.

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

Tag List:

@izzicle @ej-shitchats @may-machin @alegria1580 @witchy-jadda @videovampire @inkdelicious @queteimporta39 @virtualsweetsqueen @fo-cus @auratiqs @feyres-fireheart @queenofshinigamis @asoiafwh8re @teasandcrumpets @shesjustanothergeek @grungegrrrl@queenofsarcazm @marihoneywk @curlszx88 @virgogaia @loser-keiji @asoiafwh8re @whore-of-many-hot-men @vipervixxen @theonewiththeimaginaryboyfriends @watercolorskyy @lavendervisions @mazmack666 @chokefrog @orangejump-suit @nik2blog @serrhaewinin @ohemgeewhat @winxschester @cryptidsrcool @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @celestedonut @bloodyvelvet777 @iamapersonthatsalive @av-sos @yentroucnagol @sanzu-s @opheliaas-stuff @bellameshipper @maviee @persephonerinyes @neytiri-09 @ensnaredinwonderland @xbluegracex @sotragedynut @nattieot7 @shesawaywiththefairies-blog @coffedraven @prettycutebunny @celestedonut @the-jess-life @ssulfurr @out-of-life @madislayyy @crazylokonugget @cicaspair418 @katwmk @relminnie @milovart @teagrex @visenyaverse @bellameshipper @toodlesxcuddles @tempt-ress @dontmindmereading7 @qyburnsghost @55gyi53vtnquwziq5 @notnormalthings-blog @maidmerrymint @qyburnsghost @madislayyy @chelseaouat

Bold is who I cannot tag!

[rsucces]

The Accolade - Posepack

Hello everyone It's rsucces(renard) here!! Here's a pose pack I made for any fantasy player~

The Accolade

You knelt as a young servant, rise now as my knight!

Category : Couple poses

Content : 6 pairs of poses for 2 sims - kneeling/accolade/make vow

What you need : Pose Player / Teleport Any Sim/NA's sword ACC

Download here (free): SFS

Please do respect my TOU

I'd more than happy if you share your screenshots! Feel free to tag me on Tumblr and I'll repost!

To find out more things I make, you can always view my Airtable for my worklist and stuffs (English\中文Available)

@ts4-poses Thank you~

[cityof2morrow]

Gallery Collection 001

Published: 2-21-2024 | Updated: N/A SUMMARY This is the first in a series of upcoming investment objects for Sims 2 – things your sims can use to generate income over time. From 1975-2000, Anheuser-Busch, Inc. commissioned 30 paintings of African kings and queens for an extended outreach and marketing campaign. This set of paintings features artwork from this amazing series. Celebrate Black History Month 2024! #co2bhm #bhm2024 #sims2bhm.   *No copyright infringement intended – I own no rights to these images.

DETAILS Requires Sims 2. Requires Apartment Life for shiftability. §1K-15K | Buy > Deco > Wall Hangings Paintings are centered on 1-tile but cover more tiles than that. They come in various gallery sizes and images have been edited to fit the mesh. After purchase, their value increases by approximately 2% daily – watch out for burglars! Files with “MESH” in their name are REQUIRED. Frame recolors include EA/Maxis and yeti textures. Frame and painting recolors are merged into two files so you’ll have to take them or leave them. ITEMS Great Kings & Queens of Africa: Paintings 001-006 (92-764 poly) DOWNLOAD (choose one) from SFS | from MEGA

IMAGES

Akhenaton Pharaoh of Egypt (1375-1358 BC) by Barbara Higgins Bond

Alfonso I King of the Kongo (circa 1486-1543) by Carl Owens (1929-2002)

Askia Muhammaed Toure King of Songhay (1493-1529) by Leo Dillon

Benhanzin Hossu Bowelle—The King Shark (1841-1906) by Thomas Blackshear II

Cleopatra VII Queen of Egypt (69-30 BC) by Ann Marshall

Hannibal Ruler of Carthage (247-183 BC) by Charles Lilly

Hatshepsut The Ablest Queen of Far Antiquity (1503-1482 BC) by Dean Mitchell

Idris Alooma Sultan of Bornu (1580-1617) by Charles Lilly (1949-)

Ja Ja King of the Opobo (1821-1891) by Jonathan Knight

Khama III The Good King of Bechuanaland (1819-1923) by Carl Owens

Makeda Queen of Sheba (960 BC) by Debra Edgerton

Mansa Kankan Musa King of Mali (1306-1337) by Barbara Higgins Bond

Menelek II King of Kings of Abyssinia (1844-1913) by Dow Miller

Moshoeshoe King of Batsutoland (circa 1786-1870) by Jerry Pinkney

Mwana Ngana Ndumba Tembo—Ruler of the Angolan Tchokwe (1840-1880 circa) by Kenneth Calvert

Nandi Queen of Zululand (1778-1826 AD) by HM Rahsaan Fort II

Nefertari Nubian Queen of Egypt (192-1225 BC) by Steve Clay

Nehanda of Zimbabwe (1862-1898) by Lydia Thompson

Nzingha—Amazon Queen of Matambo (1582-1663) by Dorothy Carter

Osei Tutu King of Asante (circa 1650-1717) by Alfred Smith

Queen Amina of Zaria (1588-1589) by Floyd Cooper

Samory Toure The Black Napoleon of the Sudan (1830-1900) by Ezra Tucker

Shaka-King of the Zulus (1787-1828) by Paul Collins

Shamba Bolongongo African King of Peace (1600-1620) by Roy LaGrone

Sunni Ali Beer King of Songhay (circa 1442-1492) by Leo Dillon

Taharqa King of Nubia (710-664 BC) by John Thomas Biggers

Tenkamenin King of Ghana (1037-1075 AD) by Alexander Bostic

Thutmose III Pharaoh of Egypt (753-712 BC) by Antonio Wade

Tiye The Nubian Queen of Egypt (circa 1415-1340 BC) by Leonard Jenkins

Yaa Asantewa Queen of Ghana (1863-1923) by Barbara Higgins Bond CREDITS No copyright infringement intended – I own no rights to these images. Artwork and trademarks are the property of their respective creators and/or owners. If this exceeds fair use, please contact me via private message. Thanks: Simming and Sketchfab Communities. Sources: Any Color You Like (CuriousB, 2010), Beyno (Korn via BBFonts), Console Certificates (d_dgjdhh, 2019; 2011), EA/Maxis, Gyeongbokgung Sajeongjeon Painting (National Heritage Administration, 2024 via CCA; Sketchfab), Great Kings and Queens of Africa Series (Anheuser-Busch, Inc., 1975-2000; Kentake, 2016), Offuturistic Infographic (Freepik), Painting by Zdzislaw Beksinski (Sosnowski, 2018 via CCA), Yeti Metals (Shastakiss, 2017).

[acourtofthought]

From TOG:

"The Cauldron made you a Seer"

Is that a who Elain is? Or what Elain is? Is her Seer gift the power she wields or the woman beneath?

"The Cauldron chose three sisters. Tell me how it's possible that my two brothers are with two of those sisters yet the third was given to the other."

Is Elain being the third sister who she is inside? Is that what makes her unique? What gives Elain her personality?

In SF, after having known Elain for nearly 2 years, I don't get the sense that Az really knows who Elain is at all. He thinks she's too trusting and hopeful, with no idea the things he's done. He thinks she can't handle the Trove. He directly disrespects how she said she's not a child to be fought over by claiming he'll defeat Lucien in a duel. He directly disrespects that she told Nesta she's not allowed to tell her what she can and can't do by claiming she shouldn't be exposed to the darkness of the Trove though she volunteered. And he never once gives her credit for her bravery, when she saved his life and many others.

Lucien may not have known truly known Elain in the first moments they ever met but just as the knight from the story grew to see the fae woman for who she was, I think it's clear Lucien has taken the time to see Elain for who she is and not just what she can do for him, where he's not simply using her to make himself feel like a hero.

[coolgreensunglasses]

Saint & Knight Clothing Recolors - Sims 4/AAI2

poses by @helgatisha

Feeling abnormal about that clown or that bodyguard? Want to have little virtual dolls of them at your disposal for whatever reason? Well, look no further!

Contains 6 Recolors, including:

@Nucrests Insomnia Hoodie Recolor - MESH

GP03 Blazer Recolor - Requires Dine Out. I'm so sorry I couldn't find a better base game one, Knightleyheads. I'll do better next time

@cloudcat's Savo T-Shirt, Onyankopan Decal Recolor - MESH

And as a treat...

... I tagged this with #aai2 spoilers for a reason!

@serenity-cc's Alessi Top - MESH

@dyoreos Dreamer Pants v2 - MESH

Clown Paint - Made with textures from Simple White Facepaint by SassymcSassafras on ModTheSims, @chrysosims Winifred’s Kiss lipstick from Crypt O' Club, and Eyebrows 04 by @soloriya.

SFS Download - LINK (MESHES ALL REQUIRED)

I've never posted CC before - or on tumblr at all, really - but I figured that this might be exactly what someone is looking for. It certainly was for me before I took things into my own hands!

I'd love if you tagged me in any posts using these!

If I disrespected your T.O.U, please let me know, I couldn't find one visible for every CC maker I've mentioned.

& if you'd like to know where I got the rest of the CC here, feel free to ask!

Godspeed, Manosouta Nation.

[wingsdippedingold]

My statement on ACOTAR characters

(unedited; really just a brain dump)

I know I use a lot of pro and anti tags when it comes to ACOTAR, and while I do have characters I like more than others, I really just dislike them as a whole. I think the series is poorly written and SJM is the one I actually hate.

I honestly can't really criticize or defend any character properly, because the characters themselves are just deficiently made. They all come from the same dumbass author. The main thing keeping me in the fandom are the actual people in it, because they have actual thoughts that make sense, and I find discussing the topics presened entertaining. So I don't wanna hear any "Well if you hate the books so much stop talking about them" bs

I don't hate Rhysand, in fact I think he has a lot of cool moments. I like the idea of him not bowing to anyone but his own people, so he got a knee tat of Velaris (even if I think its dorky). I enjoy his outlook on what's right, and I did genuinely like him early on. But I think the way SJM writes his actions (especially political ones) and their justifications incredibly disjointed poorly thought out. I think he's wrongfully used and justified and digs people into a bad way of thinking ethically because SJM has made no move to do anything but portray him as a white knight. Had the narrative acknowledge some of the things he's done as actually bad, in fact that most of them have bad outcomes for some even if they benefit others, I'd have no issue with him. SHe just writes him doing heinous things for reason and then is like "Oh but he's traumatized so its okay!"

I don't dislike Feyre, but I think she's often shoved into a backseat role in her own series. I know this is a multi-pov story, but seriously? How the fuck did SJM make Feyre's pregnancy climax to nothing more than more Nesta hate??? Why was her experience and thoughts just completely missing in the plot that literally revolved around her?? I find her flaws charming, and yet they're often forgotten or used to justify things that shouldn't be justified. I don't have any issue with her beyond the SC disaster. But, I think the fact that there's Feyre antis in general speaks to how bad of a writer SJM is. You can't even make people agree on liking your main fucking character? In fact most Feyre antis are Pro Nestas... which is ridiculous. How poorly do you have to write for people to pit sisters against each other WHEN YOUR MAIN TROPE IS FOUND FAMILY. The way SJM uses Feyre pisses me off endlessly

I think Feysand has its moments, and I don't hate anything about them specifically - but rather how they're presented and treated by the narrative. I think they make sense together, and I prefer them to Feylin, but I hate how SJM and fans bend over backward to justify everything.

I'm not a Nesta stan, I just think the narrative (and especially SF) is an injustice to real world issues and the logic used against her makes no sense in reference to the other characters. SJM says she loves her so much, but shows her none. I find the way the fandom treats her lacking empathy, and SJM has done nothing to actually better her character. I think its ridiculous no one acknowledge that she grew up in the same fucking cottage as Feyre with the same parents. SJM constantly dredges up new shit to pit her and Feyre against each other instead of just letting them be happy. She treats Nesta like she's irredeemable, and when she does "redeem" herself its literally in service to the people who are forcing her to fix herself??? She's used as a point for juvenile drama and placed in a cycle of being antagonized with no outlet to place blame. See my full thoughts on her here

I don't actually despise the ic, I think they all are just wasted and thrown into whatever whirlwind situation gives SJM a boner. I think Morrigan had so much potential, but SJM decided it would be better to use her for petty drama and forwarding a ship. I don't hate her because she doesn't do anything for the woman in the CoN, because quite frankly I don't think SJM has thought that far. I don't think Cassian's the worst man alive, but I think SJM has a poor grasp on him and what a healthy relationship (even in the bounds of a fantasy novel) is. And I just find Azriel particularly useless, he's not a thoughtful sensitive soul, he's just yet to be focused on. And I do not look forwards to the day he is, based on his first and only current pov.

I'm not a Tamlin stan, in fact I really don't care for his character, but I think he suffers from lazy writing and some severe character assassination. I think the switch up on his character after the first book is absolutely ridiculous.

I dislike how SJM throws Elain around and treats her like a little precious baby and making her out to be an airhead whos absolved from the same crimes Nesta's hated for.

I'm not an SJM fan, I'm an avid SJM hater. I actually despise her, and while I won't write out my entire long list of grievances with her here, just know that literally all of my issues with the series would be gone if she was just a better person and writer. Seriously, I think she lacks so much mechanical and analytical skill (which is crazy, she's been publishing books for 12+ years and written like 15) and I see no change in the future. She constantly retcons, switches characters up for whatever her narrative calls for, and sacrifices good character writing for a fast track to mediocre faerie smut.

I hate the way she sexualized Feyre's experience under the mountain. I hate the way she immediately objectified Feyre when she got pregnant (the blurb describing Feyre walking around while pregnant is insanely kinky and I hate it). I hate the way she throws around trauma and mental illness like cute little stickers so that she can pick and choose the aspects she thinks are cool. I hate that she's fucked up people's perception of abuse and mental illness. I hate the way she uses poc and steals credit for representation she didn't care to make. This isn't even all of it, its just what I can remember within the 9 minutes I spent writing this brain dump. SJM does not deserve more of my time 😭

If I was a character in the series I genuinely think I'd avoid all of them, because I don't care, and if I somehow did have to be cornered with any of them, I'd hate all of them. But If I ever faced up with the mother (aka Sarah), it'd be on sight. My hatred for her knows no bounds. Hate is a strong word, and one I used so many times in this post (something SJM does a lot too though, so I'm not worried, seriously get a thesaurus and stop using the same phrases every 6 pages) because it's true.