#silver-eyed lion king | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

senqv · 9 months ago

Text

HOUSE OF KINGS.

blue lock ! royal / fantasy au series featuring : michael kaiser x fem! reader

warning(s): 1.1k , asshole ism , more traditional feminine roles , arranged marriage , lmk if there are more !!

a/n: how r we feeling

next.

ONE. CHILD OF PROPHECY

in the reign of the first emperors, or so said the tales, the child of god is born — in silver moonlight and touched with the whisper of divinity.

they said that in his birth, the muses came and told it to his half-nymph mother, a beloved daughter of the water gods. they landed kisses on her sweat-sheened temple and sang each unravelling prophecy with the golden strings of their lyres; chosen by god, they purred, the emperor of kings.

they did not stay for long, but they had no need to. word travels swiftly in the whirling halls of the palace.

michael, gift of god, whom the divine had gingerly formed in their image, golden and jewel-eyed. the one who will fell men like wheat beneath a scythe and have them all crouching at his heel.

a godly son means haste to find a wife to carry on the bloodline, hungry in hopes that the gods will shine their divine light again with each beautiful son to come. and thus, the one they chose is you, daughter of house adalheidis, rumoured to have had divine blood from a sea nymph mixed in aeons ago. a nymph is the least of the lesser gods, but still a god, nonetheless, and divine blood purified the muddy dust of the human race to mould saints and heroes.

the divine blood of your house has long been watered down, with no traces of any deific features that might make an appearance in fables or folklore. but still, it is enough.

nymph, in the olden languages, is the same word for bride.

so perhaps your fate had been preordained long ago.

and so, when you first meet god, you are just short of thirteen years old.

they twine your hair with ribbons and strings of pearls, silent tittering as they dusted a pearly powder over your cheeks, an incandescent glow illuminating against the bronze mirror. your head lolls to the rhythm of their chatter, following the direction your hair was gently tugged at, eyes slow and blinking, not quite shed of the silvery sleep.

when you arrive, the sun shines brightly in the transparent sky, casting a golden glow over the white plaster of the palace architecture. banners hang from the ceiling, a royal blue, fluttering in the wind; your gaze climbs upwards, following the inscriptions of ancient fables, the effigies of the gods carved into the ceiling. the sunlight dancing in the curve of their marble eyes was so fervid you tore your gaze away in fear they might come alive.

a servant you had not caught the name of led you through the halls. he looked your age, maybe slightly older; not quite grown out into his lanky frame, eyes downcast and shy.

the emperor was not present, he had told you with nervous hands, and so you were being brought directly to the son of god himself.

your steps halt at a side door in the northernmost part of the palace. from what you could see, it was not as grand as the throne room you had passed by earlier, but it was obvious how pampered this boy prince was; before you, arched pillars loomed over the doors of imported oakwood, engraved with gentle carvings of even more obscure fables of prophetical sons and warrior kings.

he is lying on his side on a wide, pillowed bench, thick furs strewn all over the velvety couch. his eyes were half closed, lashes fluttering against his cheeks each time he blinked.

at the purposeful scuffing of your sandals against the floor, he glanced up briefly, lolling his head to the side to look at you.

lazily, his hands stroked the majestic forest cat on his lap, golden fur streaked like a lion, mirroring its owner. but no — it would be wrong to compare it as such. his hair was entirely different, lit by the sun with a spring honey lustre, spun from threads of gold. if you looked closer, within it glints the golden circlet of a prince, nearly black against the brightness of his hair.

you felt your breaths slow, gaping at the cold shock of his beauty. he was not much older than you, but incomparable with the boys your age; of jewel blue eyes sharp as a beast, cheeks and mouth tinted a cherubic rose, painted by the careful muses themselves.

if you were not a child of noble birth, you're quite sure your jaw would have been hanging slack by now. instead, you pressed your lips together and tore your gaze to the floor.

you can feel his eyes on you, and hear a slight shuffle of him leaning more forward to regard you. "what is your name?" his voice is silken, tinged with the slight crackle of sleep and boredom. you keep your gaze screwed to the ground out of spite, a muscle in your jaw ticking. your family was one of the great pillars of the empire, flourishing in trade and commerce. you were his arranged bride, to be the empress of his nation. and yet he still did not know you.

now, he sits up completely, cat yowling faintly in his lap. he speaks again, louder, clear as the glacial waters of the north. "what is your name?" the first lapse of silence was excusable, perhaps you had not heard. now, the boy prince demands an answer.

and so, you level your gaze with his, staring with all the conviction and animosity of a noble girl who had never experienced such blatant disregard. you speak your name as if casting a spell, each syllable strong and resonant, muttered with intention — to engrave your name in his mind, to make sure he could not forget it even if he wanted.

"of house adalheidis," you added in finality.

he's focused on you now, silvery blue gaze as cutting as a knife. he tips his chin up, staring downwards. "my name is michael," he purrs, "kaiser." the side of his mouth quirked slightly at the intensity of your stare. from the corner of your eyes, you faintly notice the dimples appearing at the sides of his face.

you both held the other's gaze in silence. the amusement on his face was obvious, and your brows melded together in confusion for a split second.

then he blinked, mouth cracked open like a yawning cat, mirroring the feline on his lap.

kaiser's interest came as quickly as it left, as if everything was a divine comedy preened before him to garner his delight. he no longer was looking at you.

"welcome to the palace."

you were raised in court, and you knew dismissal when you heard it. you lowered your head with clenched fingers, bruising the crushed silk of your dress.

#— HOUSE OF KINGS.#slayed #bllk #bllk royal au #blue lock #michael kaiser #michael kaiser x reader #kaiser x reader

129 notes · View notes

thebadboyfanclub · 2 years ago

Text

Do You Love Me? (Aemond x Aegon x Reader)

I know I said I would change a few things but I changed a fair amount so I really do hope this is worth it

There were a lot of mistakes Alicent has made in the past, countless one might say, the biggest one was unleashing a lion from its cage, a lioness at that.

“Let it be known that (y/n) of house Lannister and Aegon of house Targaryen are one heart, one flesh, one soul, cursed be to those who would seek to tear the apart”

As the cloak went over her shoulders (y/n) had ensured her future, the realms lioness had stepped foot in the red keep and she already had her eyes set on the throne, circling around it like a predator would do on its prey.

Aegon was a delight, a man that is easily satisfied and with a taste for all the things that brought pleasure to him, (y/n) did not mind it one bit in fact it made their wedlock feel like a breeze, as well as it ensured their image of a perfect match to the eyes of the small court and the whole of 7 kingdoms, the doting wife and the passionate husband that could not get enough of each other.

Aegon was a dragon still he did not posses the fire of a Targaryen, there was no craving for something bigger, he was born into a world that fed him with a silver spoon he has gotten comfortable and did not consider of anything bigger than what he already had, on the other hand Aemond lurked in the shadows waiting patiently for his moment, (y/n) saw an opportunity in the one eyed prince, an equal player that could assist her in winning.

“Am I interrupting?”

“Princess (y/n), no not at all”

Aemond would occupy the library for most of his day, he was a man that worked with a routine, break his fast, sword practise, flying with Vhagar, read at the library, have supper, fly with Vhagar again or spend time with his mother and sister before he excused himself to rest in his chamber.

(Y/n) waltzed in with her eyes scanning the prince that had gone back into focusing on his book, (y/n) sat on the chair directly in front of him, crossing her legs slowly, it was subtle however (y/n) picked up on Aemonds little glance at her leg that barely escaped from her dress.

“May I ask what is the prince reading?”

“The adventures of princess Nymeria”

“The dornish warrior? Interesting choice for a Targaryen”

“We have to give credit when credit is due, she established herself and her name lives on”

“Is that something you aspire to achieve?”

“Of course, I assume you share that ambition”

“How so?”

“I might be a noble man but I am not dim witted princess, you want something from me”

Silence took over the room with the only sound reaching their ears being the cracks of the wood that burned in the fireplace.

A small smirk appeared at Aemonds lips as he finally lifted his eyes to meet (y/n)s hues, she could not tell if it was the flames that licked his astonishing lavender eye or the sparkle of the challenge that made her heart skip a beat. (Y/n) leaned in to rest her chest against her hands that had intertwined in her lap all while biting her bottom lip.

“Mayhaps, I am a fair person prince Aemond it would not be without a reward”

“And what would that be?”

“Everything”

“Does my brother know you are here?”

“No”

“Excellent”

To have a Targaryen prince as a husband was a blessing, to have a Targaryen prince as a lover and a confidant was heavenly, (y/n) moved the pawns in her chessboard as she saw fit while Aemond did her dirty work.

“My dear husband, this is an important day for you why are you frowning?”

“My father never wanted this, he never wished for me to be king, for twenty years he upheld Rhaenyras claim”

“He told your mother-“

“Do you truly believe that king Viserys decided to name his heir while on his deathbed? He never liked me (y/n)”

(Y/n) could comprehend why was Aegon acting like this while they were on the carriage, she had witnessed first hand the dismissive behaviour of king Viserys when it came to Aegon and his siblings, the only time she saw the king smile was when she gave birth to their first born Vaegor, she recalled how the frail old man held the babe for the first time as a grin appeared on his deformed face that half of it was concealed by a golden mask.

“A lovely prince, savour this moment Aegon, before you even know it your son will grow taller than you and leave you wondering where did the time go”

Aegons face lit up at the light joke his father had said, (y/n) smiled as well but not to Aegon nor the king, she grinned while for the lightest moment she glimpses to Aemond, the prince stood to the back allowing the others their moment with the new born babe.

The timeline was quite blurry yet (y/n) was certain she had bared Aemonds son, a cold night at the dragon pit that (y/n) had gone to search for Aemond after an argument that had disturbed their affair, Vaegor was the result of that night.

(Y/n) pursed her lips before she rose from her seat to move and get comfortable on her husbands lap, as the carriage was in motion Aegon stretched his hands to help her take a seat, she had given birth to their 3 child not too long ago yet she manage to fit the gown he had gifted her at their wedding day.

“It does not matter what he thought, your father is dead and now you will inherit what you deserve, in a few moments this beautiful head will have a crown and the truth will be what you make it”

“Do you love me?”

(Y/n) did not respond instantly like she usually does, Aegon was casted aside by his family from a very young age even though they held him to a standard that was extremely toxic, to fight against his own sister. (Y/n) leaned closer to his ear slowly as her arm that was wrapped around his shoulders went up to his hair to caress his silver locks.

“Till the end of my days, remember?”

(Y/n) did not lie to him, she loved Aegon he had been good and gentle with her, that being said Aegon was not meant to be king, he would rather spend his days guzzling wine and dancing to music or bedding his wife than attend small council meetings, start a war with Rhaenyra or go fight in a battle.

No that was (y/n)s wish, actually it was everyone else’s wish but his. When the war began that remained in history as “the dance of dragons” after Aegon was crowned (y/n) could finally reveal the person behind the doll like mask, a vicious beast that stopped at nothing, she was the whisper in Aegons and Aemonds ear, moving them like muppets to do whatever she advised them to do so. Rhaenyra got the nickname “Maegor with tits”, Aegon was called “Aegon the usurper” and Aemond was “the kinslayer”, what a tragic day that was when Aemond came back he immediately summoned (y/n)

“What did you do?”

“(Y/n) I swear I did not mean for it to happen, I lost control of Vhagar”

“Vhagar is a war dragon that invaded Dorne it was only natural for her to go for the kill yet you still wanted to torment Lucerys you are a fool”

She was furious, one thing (y/n) counted on was Aemonds restrain, his grudge against the strong boys ran deeper and now he had exposed them to bloodshed.

“We take my children-“

“Our children”

“My children! I almost died for them”

“And I killed for them”

“You killed that boy for yourself do not blame my sons and daughter for your mishaps”

Aemond and Aegon separately thought all three children were from them, (y/n) being the woman that carried them would say it was more complicated than that, her two boy Vaegor and Aelor were Aemonds, her daughter Daenera was Aegons.

Aemond loved all three of the children, he feared for their life the most when the war started and now he was shaking at the idea that he would be responsible for putting them in danger. He could see (y/n)s eyes go from one side to the other with quick speed as she raced in her mind to find a way to fix this.

“You will take Vaegor and Aelor to Essos, Aegon will take Daenera to Dorne, the Martells will not disagree at giving shelter to a babe”

The war had taken countless lives, only a handful of the Targaryen line survived, Aegon was severely wounded and in excruciating pain on a daily bases, (y/n) felt her heart ache at the side of his once handsome face suffer the fate of his father, deformed and frail.

“Will there be pain?”

“No my love, I made sure of it”

(Y/n) assured him as she carefully placed her arms around him so Aegon can sit up, it was a few hours past supper and the only light was coming front their candles.

Aegon faintly smiled before he hissed from the pain striking him with any type of movement, as he settled (y/n) reached over for the goblet that sat on the stand next to their shared bed and passed it to Aegon.

“I believe it is the first time that I give you wine and you hesitate to down it”

“At least I’ll leave doing one of my favourite things”

“One?”

“Yes, the other is playing with our children, please (y/n) I beg you, tell them I died in battle, tell them their father sacrificed his life protecting them”

“I will, do not dwell over that I will make sure they know how much you loved them”

“Good, good… well, I raise my cup to the new king, Aemond the one eyed prince”

(Y/n) held Aegon until he let his last breath, dying peacefully and being free from the pain and worry. Tears streaming down her eyes as she could not help but feel responsible, “Aegon never wanted this” she kept repeating before she wiped her tears and pulled herself together.

As the first rays of sunlight started to appear (y/n) walked out of her chamber and went over to Aemonds, she did not bother with knocking the prince would already be up by now especially at a day like this.

“Is it done sweetling?”

“Yes, the throne is yours”

Aemond rushed to hug the queen as she responded with her arms wide open as well, she had achieved what she wanted, Aemond inheriting the throne and her kids being next in line, she was queen and then she would be queen mother, still the tittle “dowager queen” fell heavy in her heart.

“We have duties to attend to, first things first I will ride to Essos for our boys and then to Dorne for our princess, the war is over it is time for our kids to come back”

“You are king now Aemond, you are in need of a wife”

Aemond broke off his rumble at (y/n)s proclaim, her misty eyes confused him even further, they had sacrificed everything for this why was she crying? Aemond let his hands rest on her biceps as he struggled to find the reason behind her meek demeanour.

“You are afraid, I’ve never seen you afraid”

“Aegon is dead, I am the dowager queen, you sit on the iron throne now and I am… what am I Aemond?”

The realm would not allow a king without a queen, when the announcement of Aegons passing will happen and his wish for Aemond to succeed him until Vaegor comes off age the small court will push for Aemond to be wed, uncertainty sunk in her veins and froze her blood at the idea of doing all of this for nothing.

Aemond lifted her chin with his finger moving his hand to not rest there but to go up and brush her cheek lightly as a sign of affection, Aemond adored (y/n), he loved her more than she ever would, she would never admit it yet to Aemond it was obvious that he was second best in her heart, Aegon had been her husband, she did not grace his life until after Aegon had already gotten a bite, a prince of the Targaryen like could have any princess or lady he wanted, the Gods were humorous to torment him with falling for a woman that loved him but did not love him enough.

“I am king until our son comes off age, Aegons wish is for me to succeed him, I will wed you when the moon turns and call it an act of kindness to the Lannister clan for your houses loyalty and to ensure the future of the late kings successor, I would never leave you in the dust dearest”

“We show mercy to Rhaenyras children, we will send for them and keep them in the red keep, the sea snake will decide who will be his successor my guess is Baela”

“I offer you a wedlock and your reaction is to discuss the inheritance of driftmark, is that how little you think of me?”

Her shoulders sunk at the bitter question, she sympathised with him to an extend of course, his jaw tightened when (y/n) pulled away to march at the window of his chamber, it truly seemed like (y/n) genuinely turned her back to him.

Aemond could detect her shoulders move from taking a deep breath, (y/n) faced him once again when she regained her composure her eyes were cold and her lips pursed together tightly.

“I have given you everything, I am called kinslayer and cruel on the streets, I did everything you asked me to”

“And I sacrificed everything, trust me Aemond I know the blood is on my hands, at least I own up to my crimes, you can scurry away and blame me we both know I did not force you to do anything, you wanted the throne for yourself, you used me and I used you”

(Y/n) held strong feelings for Aemond, they had shared such intimate moments and their ambition for greatness was the key to their affair, he was a good man and would be a great ruler, as the time went by she would have to be blind to not pick up on the hatred his eyes held when she walked with Aegon or when he was forced to watch Aegon play with his sons and call him father, his days were filled with agony, he loved his brother but he always got what Aemond thought he should own, his lover, his children, his throne, the bitter taste of being the second best no matter how hard he worked shattered him.

“We are bound for life Aemond, it is pointless to point fingers”

“I love you (y/n), I killed for you”

“You killed for your own ambition”

“I did it for you! For our love! For our children that will never call me father! I am not pointing fingers I am pleading the mother of my children to tell me she loves me, so… do you love me?”

Requests are open!

477 notes · View notes

countrymusiclover · 5 months ago

Text

13 - Facing Cersei Lannister

Part 14

The Lion Knight and Dragon Princess

Tags- just send an ask to be added @cdragons @kmc1989 @starkleila @noirrose21-blog @lover-of-books-and-tea

“Princess Vaella!” Jaime’s voice could be heard behind me but it only made me want to go faster. My silver hair was loose except for one small strands in a braid blowing in the wind while I ran on horseback.

I laughed with Amber riding beside me on her own horse when we ventured our way deep into the Kingswood without a care in the world. “I’ll only stop if you can catch me, Lannister!”

“Yeah Lannister. You may be a good swordsman but are you the same on a horse?” Amber teased him by sticking her tongue out.

Jaime growled under his breath galloping towards me as fast as he could, seeing some water up ahead trying to gain my attention. “Princess! We need to pull back. The horses won’t be able to jump that water.”

“Pffft let us have our fun, Lannister.” Amber galloped ahead of me going to jump it until her horse stood up on its hind legs and threw her down onto the ground. “Ow! Vae, listen to him.”

I began to panic tugging at the reins but my horse didn’t slow down getting closer to the water where I was sure he was going to launch me into the water. “Woah, woah, woah slow boy. Slow down please.”

“Vaella! Easy boy, easy, easy.” Jaime kicked his horse in the stomach charging forward and shoving his horse in front of mine, he snagged the reins turning the horses body away from the water.

I finally released a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding inside. “I thought I was going into the water…thank you, Jaime.”

“You’re welcome, princess. Are you alright?” Jaime’s eyes scanned over me not seeing any injuries.

I nodded, placing my hand over his holding my horses reins till a new noise broke through the woods where I removed my hand from his. “I am. Thanks to you.”

The three of us could hear the clatter of more horse hooves coming in our direction showing us none other than Lord Commander Barristan Selmy. “Princess.” He dismounted his horse and gave me a bow.

“Commander Selmy, what brings you out here. I have Ser Jaime here with me for my protection.” I eyed the knight before me.

Ser Selmy responded. “Your father has requested your presence back at the castle.”

“What does he need me there for?” I raised a brow.

The knight placed one hand on his sword and gestured with his other in the air. “He told me he wants you to meet Tywin Lannister’s daughter Cersei.”

“She’s your sister?” Amber asked, glancing at Jaime who hadn’t said anything.

Tucking some loose wipes of hair behind my ear. “Tell him I shall return to the castle before nightfall. We shall let the horses rest for a short spell.”

“Safe travels on your return back, my princess.” Selmy bowed a second time speaking towards Jaime before he rode in the direction of the castle back on his white horse. “Remember your vow to her, Ser Jaime.”

That was the day I would meet Cersei Lannister years before she became the Queen of King Robert Baratheon.

Months after Tyrion’s Trial

Guards had moved most of the crates from mine and Jaime’s room, loading up the supplies on a set of ships that we had set ready for Casterly Rock months after Tyrion had escaped and Tywin was killed by him. I winced feeling a soreness in my lower back where I gently stumbled down in a sitting position on the edge of the bed before a knock bounded on my door. “Just come in, Jaime!”

“You lying bitch!” The chamber door busted open nearly breaking the hinges when it slammed against the wall behind it and I watched Cersei storming inside clutching a piece of paper in her hand.

I slowly rose to my going to curtsy to her. “Your grace - ahh!” I screamed when she slapped me across the face and I stumbled into the vanity table behind me.

Cersei unrolled the scroll of paper. “For over a year I have thought something wasn’t right about you and I was right to have suspicions about you all along!”

“Your grace, I think you have the wrong person.” I gulped under my breath, scanning my eyes over the handwriting of Tywin Lannister that declared Jaime was no longer a member of the Kingsguard and that Jaime and I ( written as Clarrise ) would depart for Casterly Rock.

She yanked me up from the ground by my forearm pulling me in front of the mirror and yanking the bandanna off my head, revealing tousled silver hair to the queen. “You’re calling me a liar hmm. Then what do you have to say for this. Taragaryn’s are the only ones with this hair color!”

“It’s just hair dye, my queen.” I gulped nervously feeling the touch of a cold blade pressing against my throat.

She whispered into my ear. “Call out to him. Call out to him so he can see what traitor you really are.”

“No.”

The blade pushed further against my throat and I winced with some pain meaning she must have drawn fresh blood. “If you don’t call out to him I will kill you right now!”

“I’m simply a handmaiden going to work in her home, my queen.”

Cersei growled into my ear. “You aren’t worthy of my brother! Jaime and I came into this world and we belong together. You are nothing to him but a whore. He’ll never love you.”

Closing my eyes I couldn’t listen to her and her words anymore so I moved my elbow back and slammed it into her gut where she dropped the blade and I pushed her backwards away from me. “You don’t want to fight me, Cersei.” Spinning around on my feet I braced my hands on the vanity behind me to face her.

“You’re right I don’t want to fight you. I want you to die!” Cersei tackled me down onto the stone floor where we fist fight for a moment, dodging the other's attack when they tried to strike the other. At least that was the case until I kicked the blade away from reach and flipped us over shoving her body down onto her back.

Cersei’s head hit the stone floor a little harsh with my body weight holding her down. “Haha. You can’t kill me, dragon whore.”

“You wanna bet!” I bared through my teeth still holding the blade above her heart.

She wickedly smirked up at me. “It’s clear by the look on your face. If you were going to kill me you would have done it already.”

“A Targaryen is not afraid.” I muttered to myself clutching the dagger she had brought that was now in my hands and I could’ve killed her right then and there if I was like my father who was called the Mad King, but I wasn’t my father. Tears slipped out when I dropped the dagger and it clattered to the floor when I called my husband’s name. “Jaime!”

Quick footsteps rushed down the hallway and into the bedchamber seeing me holding his sister down on the ground and a dagger laying at my side where Cersei begged for her brother's attention. “Jaime, help me.”

“Vaella, are you injured anywhere? What about the baby?” Jaime didn’t hesitate to rush to my aid, wrapping me in a gentle bear hug, breaking the hug examining my very large and round belly.

Touching the side of his face I reassured him. “I’m alright. We’re alright.” It was very obvious now that I was seven months pregnant but thankfully with a young and innocent child king like Tommen had created a much easier time of the later months of my pregnancy then the first trimester.

“She’s lying to you. She doesn’t love you like I have since the day we were born.” Cersei pushed herself up from the floor sniffing through some frustrated tears.

Jaime kept one arm wrapped around my waist and I laid my head in the crook of his neck and one hand sprawled out onto his chest. “She hasn’t lied to me like you have. You’ve said you loved me but you just love the children I gave you. You don’t really care about me.”

“Jaime..”

He whispered down to me hearing my whisper. “I’m sorry for not telling you about her children in the first place.”

“It’s okay. I actually already knew about it.”

Cersei gasped in shock. “How in the seven kingdoms would you know? Nobody is supposed to know.”

“I’m a Targaryen in case you weren’t aware. Taragaryn’s were known for marrying their brothers and sisters because they were afraid that they could only ensure the purity line by doing so.”

Cersei stomped her shoes on the floor in anger. “Jaime, don’t listen to her fake acceptance of this. She’ll never be what we are.”

“I’m not staying here with you anymore, Cersei.” Jaime finally responds to her.

Cersei gasped. “You can’t mean it?”

“I do mean it, Cersei. I’m taking her to Casterly Rock right now and I’m leaving you here.” Jaime declared intertwining my hand in his and I squeezed his hand while we made our way onto the ship on our way to Casterly Rock after seventeen years of waiting.

24 notes · View notes

halfcentauri · 4 months ago

Text

Hello! New blood here! I've been hesitant to make an account or even touch this site for a while, but a few hours on here and I already feel at home. Ya'll are honestly so cool.

A few words about me, I guess. Nice to meet you! I go by Elane, any pronouns. Really enjoy writing (mostly fantasy stuff), have been looking for a good place to meet other writers and talk shop, read stuff and share some of my own, but haven't been able to find a space that wasn't either too professional or too inactive.

I considered writing a new piece as my first post, but... I got lazy. I'm just gonna repost one of my short stories from a different site instead. It was the piece that was the most well-received of all my posts there, and actually led to me meeting a very cool friend, so it feels right that I lead with it.

(I'm sorry if it's frowned upon to repost old stuff here. I'm new to this site and have next to no clue about the culture aside from clips of voice actors reading funny quotes. Also, I was never the best at formatting my posts, and this is site is virgin ground for me, so please excuse me as I attempt to figure stuff out.)

The Eternal Storm

"You're safe in my arms," Percy murmured, holding me close. "Never doubt your place beside me, however vicious their stares, however fearful your heart."

"I don't deserve your grace," I murmured back. My eyes were damp with tears. I held him closer. "You spoil me with second chances I've yet to earn."

"You've earned the world and more." He bared his teeth like a lion, a fierce pride naked in his smile. So fierce, it was almost desperate, and yet... it would do so very little to change my mind.

Around us, the storm thundered on.

Flashes of vermillion lightning engaged each other in a slow waltz. They extended like tree roots amidst the swirl of violet smog, almost frozen in time. The wind picked up, batting my hair through the cracks in my chainmail, mingling it with his as we leaned in for a kiss. The air tasted of mercury, the lethal silver raining from the heavens.

I felt his breath on my lips as we pulled apart, giggling like schoolboys. "No man is beyond redemption," he declared, seizing me by the shoulders. "No betrayal cannot be undone. It takes only blood and toil to build a kingdom—nothing more. What failure cannot be remedied by the same?"

"A failure of character," I said, withering under his gaze. "A failure of the soul, that claims blood beyond measure, and creates toil beyond reason."

"Blood and toil all the same," he said, frowning. "All debts can be repaid, Norman, however great. It only takes time," he gestured at the storm, "and we've yet time to spare."

I smiled at him—a feeble gesture—and pulled away from his touch. His arms hung rigid by his side, no doubt itching to hold me again. "Storms don't last forever," I said, holding a hand out to catch the rain; the silver was fast to escape my grasp. "Neither do phantoms."

I let the silence hang in the air, so that he might understand the finality of my decision. After a long moment, he spoke, "It's true, then. You deign to visit me only to tell me you're to leave again?" He grimaced. "You needn't depart now. It's only been a few hours."

"I have nothing left to do here," I said, hollow-eyed. "My place is without; as you said, paying back my debts. This time we spent together will be forgotten like a daydream, and the better for it. I only thought it fair that I inform you of this fact in person, before it becomes yet another regret. I am sorry if I have disappointed you."

"It needn't be that way," Percy pleaded. "Norman, you needn't prove anything to me."

"Then perhaps you don't know me as well as you think you do," I said. "I am never without something to prove, whether that be to myself or... to you, my king. No words can change that which has been wrought with steel, nor can they undo the shackles of guilt." Tremours were beginning to creep down the length of my arms, and my breath was beginning to hitch. The mercurial fumes would soon impair my ability to think. "I would leave you to your peace; all I ask is that you don't deny me mine."

His eyes softened, the creases betraying his age. "Norman... When you braved this storm, you told me of a favour you wished to ask of me. I had assumed you favoured my company. Surely, you don't intend to tell me..."

My voice turned grim. "It is thus: I have tracked down your murderer to her abode, after years of fruitless effort. Grant me leave to do you this one justice, and one day I shall gladly take my place by your side, here in this eternal storm." Descending to one knee, I forced my eyes to meet his. "However, until my treachery has been repaid, I must continue to live. Burdens are a man's honour; they are proof of his nobility. Please, my king."

Percy drew a breath, and sighed. "Should you fall to an alchemist's art, it won't be a storm you find yourself in. We might not see each other ever again. Are you to tell me you are at peace with this idea?"

The truth was, I did not intend to die to the foul woman's sorcery, but I suspected such an answer would not satisfy him. Instead, I said, "Are you so reluctant to permit me this act of closure?"

"I am, but... I can see that whatever else I may utter, you have made up your mind."

"I'm afraid so."

"Then go, and live a fool." His eyes were motionless. "Avenge me and be fulfilled. If that is what my love means to you, then leave with my prayers."

"Thank you," I said, fixing my eyes on the jagged earth. "Until we meet again."

"Until you prove yourself," he said, turning away. His voice turned cold. "Eternal winds guide you."

With those final words, the storm cleared.

I opened my eyes. The winds were as still as the red sands around me. The amulet in my hand had dimmed, its glow but a shadow of what it once was, its vitality having been drained by my time in the storm. Gripping it tight in my palm, I shattered it into black fragments, and rose from my seat atop the dune. I stared ahead at the Archives—the castle Percy's killer called her home.

It was a grand spire that pierced the earth, creating a sinkhole as deep as a continent was wide. Its buttresses were woven of crystal lace, framing a stately golden entrance that beckoned me inside. My legs marched on without conscious effort, drawn by the promise of absolution.

A tall, pale woman greeted me by where a glass platform bridged the sinkhole. She was smiling, with all the gentility and power of a gracious host. "You're back," she said. "How was your trip around Szeneste?"

I said nothing as I drew my sword and broke into a sprint. Her smile never faltered as she drew an intricate circle in the air before her with gold-tipped fingernails. A smell like death followed, sulphuric and dry. I drew my shield and channelled my fury into a roar as my feet hit the bridge.

The woman surrounded herself with her alchemical circles, and gestured at me, a faint amusement in her voice. "Let's see if we can't end this story with some éclat."

END

For some added context, this was submitted as a response to a writing prompt: "The end of a vacation, soon to return to one's everyday troubles." Except I'm apparently allergic to writing anything that isn't fantastical, so this was the result.

I hope you enjoyed the story, as I'll probably be posting more stuff here as I write it. Probably new stuff as well. Can't be lazy forever.

Peace! ✌️

#intro post #introduction #writing #writeblr #writblr #writers on tumblr #short story #fiction #fantasy #romance #romantasy #angst #mlm #mlm love

8 notes · View notes

sbk-zgvlt · 2 years ago

Note

1. I’m honestly impressed about how you two made a whole ass fan fiction which I heavily enjoy with just a simple question

2. I’m hoping onto that Peter Pan idea train

3. This random idea which has less Angst. Basically one day at NRC, all the main cast suddenly get transported into to a story book where they get each character is transported into a different story that best matches there personalities(or in author sense what there character was inspired by), so when the Diasomnia group get transported to the story of sleeping beauty, the can’t find Sebek anywhere. Meanwhile, Sebek is wondering where the hell everyone is and why he’s on a deserted island in the middle of nowhere, where’s there’s apparently pirate ships. (I also imagine sense Sebek is half crocodile fea he has a crocodile tail which can disappear and reappear)

1. We're just that cool

2. I think i need to make a tag for that now...

3. IM SO INSANE ABOUT THIS

They probably messed around with this cursed storybook that Crowley keeps in his office and now they suffer the consequences.

The thing is though that they have to complete each story by their order in the book to actually progress. So, we start with Alice in Wonderland where Heartslabyul is stuck in. The further down the story is in the book (First story = Alice in Wonderland, last story = Sleeping Beauty), the longer the dorm has been inside.

For example, Heartslabyul have only been stuck for a day. Savanaclaw for a week. Octavinelle for a month, etc.

The basics of how this works is that while the first story is being played out, the others haven't even started yet. They're basically on pause. It's like Heartslabyul is trying to finish the story in a day while Savanaclaw is stuck inside the story 1 week before the events actually happen.

When Heartslabyul finish their story, they get transported to the Lion King and meet with Savanaclaw. They finish the story, then meet with Octavinelle in Little Mermaid, so on and so forth.

They eventually reach the Sleeping Beauty, only to be met with a frantic Diasomnia who have been stuck in the story for 5 months (They don't age or something by the way...when they return to the real world they've only been gone for a minute).

Turns out they have NOT seen Sebek at all, and Silver is in a FRENZY. Malleus is starting to embrace his villain role a bit too well in the story, and Lilia has practically reverted back to his old war veteran days.

The cast finally snap them out of it when they're able to finish the story, and Riddle suggests that maybe Sebek wasn't affected by the storybook for some reason? Or they'll be able to find him once they reach the true end of the book.

So, the true characters of thr story finally manifest so Diasomnia can just watch things play out with the rest of the cast as well.

They watch Aurora get married, some get a bit teary-eyed while Leona and Malleus argue over the color of her dress, then all they have to do now is wait for the end of the story-

Everyone gets transported to a room. The Darlings' room. Everyone freaks out because WHAT THE FUCK I THOUGHT WE WERE SUPPOSED TO GO HOME???

Diasomnia are inconsolable because they think that Sebek was left behind in the Sleeping Beauty story and will be stuck there forever and are continuously trying to find ways to go back-

"Uh, you guys aren't Wendy." Everyone turns towards the window. Peter Pan, in all his glory, was sitting by the windowsill with his arms crossed. He thinks that they broke in and is prepared to beat their asses until Jack and Trey explain their situation.

Peter hears about this Sebek guy and goes "Oh! You mean ole' croc? I know where he is!" Diasomnia pause and then immediately start screaming at him to bring them to him.

A few pixie dust later (courtesy of a disgruntled Tinkerbell), they're flying over Neverland. Peter is about to introduce them to the lost boys only for the sound of a cannon to interrupt him.

Pirates are invading the island once more, and the cast are quick to defend themselves. They can't seem to get a single hit on Captain Hook though, mostly because of fairy tale laws or whatever.

They're in a bit of a disadvantage, and even Peter is getting restless-

Tick.

Tock.

Captain Hook goes pale, as well as the rest of his crew. NRC look confused only for a familiar voice to ring throughout the fight: "ARE YOU BACK FOR ANOTHER ROUND, CAPTAIN?" It's Sebek!

Except he looks...different. Not different in the way that Rook now has black hair for whatever reason, nor different by the fact that Lilia's hair is long again.

This Sebek looks older. Not too old, but there are key differences. His usual round ears are now a bit pointed, his hair past his shoulders. He's wearing something wildly different- there's no trace of his uniform.

Instead, an old, raggy pirate's cloak hangs off his shoulders that just serves to make him look more intimidating. And uh the rest of his clothes are the ones that Will Stetson is wearing in his cover of Shinunoga E-wa with black pants LOOK MAN im writing this in my notes app offline.

His magestone is no longer placed in a pen, rather it hangs off his ear as an earring.

The biggest change however is the scales and tail...as well as the ticking face of a clock that replaces his right eye.

Hook's crew are quick to retreat, not before Sebek can suddenly jump into their ship though. The cast watch Sebek raise Hook up by the scruff of his neck, and with a flick of his wrist, his claws retract.

"P-please!" Hook pleads. "Have mercy!" Sebek smiles. "I'm true to my word, Captain." And promptly slices his hand off.

He jumps off the ship with Hook's hand, Peter quick to catch him as they ignore Hook's frantic screams. Blood trickles down his claws, and once they reach solid ground, Peter puts Sebek down.

Sebek throws the hand into the sand, and with a single kick, sends it flying into the ocean. Right on time, a crocodile jumps from the water and catches it into its mouth, before retreating back into the water.

"That was so cool!" Peter exclaims from behind him with childlike wonder. Sebek doesn't react, only sighing, "HUMAN, JUST BECAUSE IVE BEEN HERE FOR A YEAR DOESNT MEAN ILL BE HERE FOREVER. SOONER OR LATER, YOU WILL NEED TO FACE THE CAPTAIN BY YOURSE-"

He turns around to continue to berate Peter, only to pause when he sees the mildly injured forms of the NRC cast.

"...PETER WHAT THE FUCK"

#fuck you this is an au now #storybook madness au #sebek zigvolt #twisted wonderland #twst #twst sebek #sebek twisted wonderland #twst sebek zigvolt #diasomnia #my asks!

140 notes · View notes

shesnakes · 5 months ago

Text

𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗡 𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗛𝗔𝗡𝗗𝗦 𝗦𝗛𝗢𝗡𝗘 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗔 𝗪𝗛𝗜𝗧𝗘 𝗥𝗔𝗗𝗜𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘 , 𝗚𝗟𝗘𝗔𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘 𝗔 𝗠𝗢𝗢𝗡𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗡𝗘. 𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗕𝗘𝗔𝗨𝗧𝗬 𝗪𝗔𝗦 𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗣𝗢𝗪𝗘𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 ; 𝗜 𝗪𝗔𝗦 𝗚𝗟𝗔𝗗 𝗪𝗛𝗘𝗡 𝗦𝗛𝗘 𝗧𝗨𝗥𝗡𝗘𝗗 𝗜𝗧 𝗔𝗪𝗔𝗬 𝗙𝗥𝗢𝗠 𝗠𝗘 .

FULL NAME �� . visaera targaryen SOBRIQUET(S) / ALIAS(ES) / TITLE(S) . princess of king's landing / the dragon's trove ( alternatively, the dragon's treasure or hoard & various other iterations ), the realm's delight, visaera the younger, ( our lady ) star of the sea, the westerosi pearl, the white lady, lady dragonglass ( to few ) AGE . twenty - five ( 25 ) GENDER + PRONOUNS . cis woman, she + her ORIENTATION . bisexual ALLEGIANCE . targaryens of dragonstone

AESTHETIC .

baroque pearls knotted to silver string, a mobile hanging above the crib of a lilac - eyed babe: the first lesson of girlhood, that the greatest beauty births from the illness of its host / the sound of blades clashing in devotion & fury, ringing out like the call of your name / a retinue of hands weaving flowers into white hair / rose petals & the cries of the people raining from the heavens & trampled underfoot ⸺ the least of sacrifices made in your honour / the outline of a slender body beneath the haze of a nightgown, stood upon limestone parapet: white - capped head turned to the skies as dragons soar above / the iridescent guts of an oyster as it is shucked for its pearl / cold sapphires burrowed into the empty eye - sockets of a bleached skull / a hand extended to call you back to bed / the languid steps of bare feet across cool marble stairs, silver mesh trailing like sea foam in their wake / a blade of dragonglass suspended in pale hand / juice of a ripe fruit spilling down slender wrist, met with a lapping pink tongue: violet eyes watching you all the while / the round marble of a shoulder and the soft curve of décolletage exposed from beneath fallen gossamer fabric / the last prize set upon its pedestal, cool & unmoving as the wolves descend upon it.

PRESENCE .

HEIGHT . stands 5'6", appears taller due to long limbs & willowy frame HAIR COLOUR . pure white, rather than the more oft - seen valyrian silver. she does possess some gold strands, which can shine in the sunlight. EYE COLOUR . lilac BODY . long - limbed, slender and very taut. with a particularly slim waist and full, heavy breasts ( princess bride vc there's a shortage of perfect breasts in this world ) DISTINGUISHING FEATURES . particularly sharp, elegant collarbone and dramatic 90 - degree shoulders VOICE CLAIM . shannyn sossamon as lady jocelyn, a knight's tale.

HISTORY .

glance at the princess visaera's head and you will not only see the soft white hair of a true targaryen, but the shadow of a beast's great paw atop it: from the time of her birth, the weight of her father's hand has sat upon her. the youngest scion of king's landing, visaera stands as the last of the targaryen line, making her the dregs in the bottom of the chalice: either that with the thickest blood, or the weakest. lord hand lymond lannister, controversially, hoped for the latter ⸺ from the time he held the milky-skinned babe in his arms, he know this child would be that of the lion blood. this one, he felt, would be his creation.

the lion's hunt differs from that of a dragon: the winged beast needs nothing but its own power, but in a kingdom filled with stags and wolves, the lion requires precision. its success depends upon planning. from youth, visaera receives an education left to her alone among the children: the art of pursuit, of elegant retreat, and the acts of bewitching that occur in the middle. lymond's subsidiary coaching is in service to the goal to shape visaera into the realm's preeminent bartering piece, the finest piece of silk to be exchanged for the weightiest reward. for that one would not only need beauty and title, which each of his children possess, but the capacity to draw those to her before all overs.

while the intended result is a soft and perfumed thing, the learning is strict, scentless, and demanding: not only the study of such arts of music and performance but that of body language and intonation, how to divine an individual's desires as if peering into a scrying pool ⸺ and then become them. she studies with maesters alongside a famed braavosi courtesan, imported and heftily compensated for her time. the study with mysande involves only intellectual strategy, examining only the art of coy flirtation and mental allurement. as girlhood flusters to something more womanly, the next educator is brought in: the master of whispers and a pair of little birds, lessoning in introductory concepts applicable to her deciphering of the human soul ( WANTED CONNECTION ).

the majority of her childhood is witnessed from somewhere in the foreground, visaera made to sit apart in a gown of pale chiffon, unable to attend much of childhood play. she's not to be hurt, father says, his great hand falling upon her shoulder with the cold affection of an old god. what he means has little to do with pain and everything to do with the bloom of it. what should have been said is she's not to be bruised. a precocious child, she is too quick-witted to remain endlessly obedient, and acquires her freedoms in what stealthy doses she can manage. when that does not work, there's a phrase for the rage of visaera's youth ⸺ the moon has gone dark & the tide has turned. so between stolen moments she bathes in milk, sits with gritted teeth as her hair is combed through and her body oiled with imported lotions. she swallows words of disobedience and allows the seed of them to flower in her stomach, climbing her throat until it blossoms into something enticing and virulent in her mouth. a garden even the lord of king's landing does not doubt. as the years pull and recede and no dragon is bound to her heart, the last remaining child without a beast, lymond lannister's gnarled instinct twists tighter, assuaged, assured: this one is a lion. not a dragon.

who else is there to blame but father, but the god of the golden mane, for the woman she becomes? honed into something sharp but made to embody a trivial thing, visaera is a blade of dragonglass sheathed in a skein of silk, the fatal toxin of a serpent's fangs milked into a jar of dornish honey. having exceeded her father's expectations, there is little else for her ⸺ visaera has played this game too long, and her patience grows thin, these halls weary. intelligent, enchanting, and easily bored, she can be seen sauntering the halls of king's landing with all the languidness of a cat, observing the state of this shaken world with bright eyes. though the court believes her to be a lovely and delicate thing, visaera now seeks to wrest herself from under her father's thumb & attain autonomy. a dragon, after all, may only be kept in the pit for so many seasons before it rises up ( ... ) in fire and blood.

HEADCANONS . trigger warning : animal death, sex work.

though the spelling differs, the pronunciation of visaera and her mother the princess regent's name are the same — a sly 'honour' suggested by her father, as if to distract from the bridle he would slip over his own daughter. because of the pronunciation, this will occasionally see her referred to as visaera the younger while at court.

while the majority of her hobbies were hand-selected by her father to ensure a well-rounded and preternaturally appealing woman, the only one she truly has a passion for is the harp. she's known for her hypnotic playing & similarly enchanting voice, but prefers playing privately than for an audience.

to emphasize her beauty and further create a kind of medieval 'brand,' she'll largely be found in gowns of white, silver, or more rarely pale purples, and often heavily featuring pearls and lace. she's oft-referred / cited to be the loveliest maiden in all the realm by bards and courtiers, and a great beauty of the histories. there's no denying the otherwordly shock of her beauty, but the lymond lannister pr machine works overtime.

there are, here and there, rumours that the youngest targaryen practices blood magic to maintain her beauty - and those that swear she uses glamour to alter herself. the widest-spanning tinfoil hat theory is that a necklace she favours and wears often - believed to be forged not of silver but valyrian steel, with alternating moonstones and opals - is the method through which she glamours.

her hound, seren, accompanies visaera most everywhere. he resembles a white saluki.

in the power struggle between the targaryen broods, visaera sides tacitly with her cousins. she believes both in the natural order of succession and that this course will prevent the greatest bloodshed - in quiet turns, she seeks to persuade her family of this. and vaeles, she does not question, is best suited for the throne among any of them.

thus far unable to claim a dragon nor bonded to an egg, visaera has instead taken to keeping their smaller counterpart around her. with the instruction of maesters in her childhood as to their care, she now keeps several serpents as pets; the smaller ones can occasionally be seen peeking out from beneath the fabric of her sleeves, woven around her arm, while the larger are known to occasionally make their way from her quarters to find habitat in the gardens. as a result of this, visaera has spent the last few years studying various poisons - beginning with that of her serpents, and more recently moving to that of flora. her knowledge is still mild-moderate.

she has, however, found a new application of the milk of one of her favoured serpents - utilizing it to paint an opalescent effect on her nails. it's perfectly harmless... when it's dry ( thank you holes 2003 you cinematic classic ).

visaera's lack of dragon or dragon egg is, predictably, a sore spot. not to be brought up unless you're actively seeking a spicy day.

it's a well-known anecdote that among visaera's many suitors was an iron born bastard, ardent despite the lord hand's disinterest in his pursuit of the princess. his petitions to the king for her hand fell on deaf ears, and was forcedly sent from king's landing. less known is the fact that they had been lovers, but still, all know the result - the captain now sails a ship named the white lady, christened after his love

the prom queen everyone knows is going to be crowned, aka the usual suspect for the awarded of the queen of love and beauty at any tournament she attends.

she shares a coordinating scar with favourite cousin vaeles, after an incident in which one of her father's hunting hounds attacked visaera as a child. vaeles pulled her into his arms before running through the crazed animal with his sword, but not before the dog tore through both their flesh.

in adulthood, visaera made a voyage to braavos. while she told her father it was to visit old tutor mysande and to receive a last bit of advice, she visited more than the retired courtesan ⸺ she paid plenty a visit to mysande's modern counterparts for ( ... ) both private lesson and personal pleasure leasure. she still holds a warm fondness for emerra, otherwise known as the red feather.

after so long denied the dirt and muck in her youth, she's has a love for nature and the sea in her adulthood ⸺ something of a sensual naturalist these days, walking barefoot among the gardens with hands outstretched or wading barefoot into the ocean, uncaring for how it wets her gown.

WANTED CONNECTIONS .

I SEE FIRE . 28+ masc . he who drew the silk from her back and found the blade of a spine beneath. the only man to see at once through the film of visaera's veneer, they fell quickly into a passion that has not found a rest since. this is, of course, as exhausting as it is exhilarating: antithetical in every way & unbent to each other's egos, their continual challenging of one another means they fall into argument as often as they do the bed. inspiration: x / x / x / x / x / x FEATHERS IN THE STRAW . 23-30 femme . the energy of that scene between margaery and sansa. you know the one. some women like tall men, some like short men. some like hairy men, some like bald men. gentle men, rough men, ugly men, pretty men... pretty girls. equal parts meaningless amusement and genuine fondness, visaera has taken an interest in this particular woman - an interest both fathomless and intoxicating to the other. inspiration: x / x BRUTAL DEVOTION . 28-40 . a sworn sword, a knight pledged not to the targaryen's, but to visaera alone: you have seen the depths of raging tide as much as the white glimmer of sun across a still sea. beauty, terrifying, uncanny. it is her safety and honour that they hold above all else. how can it be anything but, when blood has stained the floor between you?. NONE BUT MY LADY . 23-30 femme . cleopatra, charmaine, and iras. mother, maiden, crone. life, death, rebirth. the princess may have many an attendant, but it is these two alone who constitute her true companions, counsel, and remainder of her soul. two handmaidens/ladies-in-waiting, all having been together for 10+ years. that frayed rope of a line between loyalty and obsession; echoes of padme and her handmaidens. beautiful. terrifying. KNOTS & CROSSES . 25-40 . there is no move in westeros that is not part of a larger game: least of all what occurs between you both. you revolve around one another ceaselessly, each with your own goals ⸺ there is something dire you require for yourself or family honour that only visaera could grant, but nothing comes so sweetly. she requires something in return, even if the bargain is not yet decided. yet you continue to bump into one another in this ill-defined mist, dragging ever closer, until what is needed and what is desired soon conflate. how can you distinguish between them with one hand on your sword and the rested upon the crook of her back? AS SLEEP TO THE FREEZING . 25+ . you aimed once for a dragon sat among the red keep ⸺ not visaera but a sibling. your hidden intention, sharp-toothed, was obvious to her as another creature with hidden fangs. she crumbled your efforts to get close to her sister/brother, and this rung she kicked out from under you has not been forgotten. you will have your revenge. FLAG IN THE WATER . 24-29 masc . you were the first, the soft landing ground that visaera's good lord father set her upon: the testing ground for her skill. you thought it was love, and perhaps it was ⸺ even as she skirts it, even as she denies, you can see the bruise left on her from the strong beat of your heart. but the truth ferments in the dark, growing stronger and more bitter with each passing day: you were a project, a trial for the woman she was to become. pip/estella coded lovers to enemies (?) / unresolved feelings / angst. TEARS OF LYS . two muses 25 + . a blade of dragonglass, wearing through its sheath and slipping quietly through the ribs. at the behest of her father, visaera has drowned them in her wiles. the heart she stands as barnacle as was once your own, and you alone see the dark intent swimming beneath the gossamer veneer attention. they are bewitched, but you will end this rotten enchantment by whatever means necessary. / and ariel x eric x vanessa moment tyvm, in which vi is the little sea witch<3 preference for the ariel in this scenario to be femme as i love the girlies fighting !

MISCELLANEOUS . king's landing targ detractors, those integral to her early-years training!!! old tutors!!!, suitors past or present (particularly those hunger for power, and willing to devour a woman to achieve it), angsty childhood friends that have for some reason soured !!!, cat and mouse, court frenemies, keeping-it-on-the-downlow hedonistic partners/participants.

TRAITS . observant, manipulative, enchanting, intelligent, elegant, delusive, witty, coquettish, ethereal, intense, judgemental, tactical, materialistic, vain, shrewd, graceful, sensual, languid, curious, seductive, repressed.

CHARACTER / MEDIA INSPIRATIONS . shiera seastar, asoiaf . helen of troy, greek mythology . lucrezia borgia, the borgias . estella havisham, great expectations . vanessa, the little mermaid . margaery tyrell, asoiaf . ingrid magnussen, white oleander . jesse, the neon demon . princess irulan corrino, dune .

#asobai.intro #me not able 2 think anymore and stuffing handfuls from the garbage to fluff it up and finish

8 notes · View notes

istumpysk · 1 year ago

Text

Operation Stumpy Re-Read

TWOW: Asha I (fragment)

I know what you're thinking.

You're thinking,

"Stumpy, you're not seriously going to write a summary based on an enhanced image of George R. R. Martin's computer screen, are you?"

Listen, if you think I've got any self-respect left, clearly you haven't been paying attention.

Quick summary of the previous chapter for context:

House Frey's army is advancing on Stannis Baratheon's army, which is currently stationed in a snowy, abandoned village.

It's speculated (treat it like a guarantee) that Stannis will lure part of the Frey army onto a brittle frozen lake, where they will plunge through the ice and die.

Moving on.

...daughter of the Lord Reaper of Pyke... ...Asha thought as she look a... lay of the land.

The narrator of Asha's chapter is quickly revealed:

it's Asha.

+.+.+

The leader of the enemy wore silvered plate and mail, in laid with details of lapis lazuli. The crest of the warhelm was tall, fashioned in the shape of the Twin Towers of House Frey.

That leader, with the stupid looking warhelm, is Hosteen Frey.

What I don't understand is how Asha can see him so clearly. The conditions are expected to provide almost zero visibility.

This chapter might occur after Night Lamp shenanigans, and Hosteen wasn't one of the casualties.

+.+.+

Before him rode three banner bearers. One bore the stag and lion standard of King Tommen, another the Twin Towers of House Frey. The third brandished a bloody head impaled upon the point of a tall spear.

What a fun parallel.

With him rode three of his lads. Tumco Lho carried the three-headed dragon banner of House Targaryen, red on black. Larraq the Lash bore the white forked standard of the Kingsguard: seven silver swords encircling a golden crown. To the Red Lamb Selmy had given a great silver-banded warhorn, to sound commands across the battlefield. - Barristan I, TWOW

+.+.+

An old man's head it was, white-bearded and one eyed. The spear was... with a pale wood, almost white... along its upper shaft had... dark and red.

That better not be who I think it is.

Is the head on a weirwood spear? Rude. Uncalled for! These Freys, no respect.

+.+.+

Crowfood Umber, Asha knew. The old northman had fought to his death, it seemed. Perhaps the foe had thought the sight of the severed head would take the hearts of the...

NOOOoooooo!

NOT AN UMBER.

The Giantslayer disagreed. "You would make His Grace look weak. I say, show our strength. Burn Last Hearth to the ground and ride to war with Crowfood's head mounted on a spear, as a lesson to the next lord who presumes to offer half his homage." - Jon IV, ADWD

I HATE IT.

No one should have to lose their life for Stannis! No one!

+.+.+

They rushed together like...

two incestuously-inclined siblings embracing, their hearts overflowing with a mix of familiarity, warmth, and forbidden passion.

Final thoughts:

You know what I realized last night? A substantial portion of the Frey army drowning in a frozen lake is a pretty ironic way to die given what they did to Catelyn Stark.

George R. R. Martin, man. He never forgets.

Final chapter: Alayne I (Sansa I) 😱

-> return to menu <-

#operation stumpy re-read #twow #asha i

49 notes · View notes

blood-darkened-moon · 2 years ago

Text

Elden Ring

ER Trivia | ER Meta | This Sheep

#elden ring #tag list

86 notes · View notes

silveraurea · 3 months ago

Text

The lion cub

cr: pinterest

Pairings: OFC x Ned Stark

Summary: King Robert fears a Targaryen restoration. Maerryn gives birth and returns to Westeros to pay an old debt.

TW: angst; death; mention of sex.

════════ ≪ •❁• ≫ ═══════

Chapter 12

Legs of iron crossed the wheat field, grey of ashes, red of blood. The feet nearly stumbled on a soldier, robust and dead. The stag grunted, damned the great wolf who rebelled against him, his old friend and brother. Twenty years ago he was tall and strong and invincible, his fury alone ended the Targaryen dynasty. Damned be, all who now rose against the mighty stag, chained to his lust in all but power. All in name of a dragon bastard.

Entered the tent. Found the great lion cleaning his sword, as old, as cruel. “Damn you, Tywin Lannister!”, the brown eyes lit. “Damn you for ever fathering that whore! Kept her right under my nose, thinking I wouldn’t spare her!”.

“She is no longer a Lannister, Your Grace, and much less my daughter. They all use her as an excuse to raise their banners”.

“You fool! Why didn’t you kill her back then?”, he exclaimed, filled a chalice with wine. “Now the two whores are pregnant!Viserys and his two sister-wives, leading a Dothraki hord!”.

“I wouldn’t worry much, my king”, Tywin lifted the sword, “The Dothraki can never afford a fleet. Furthermore, dragons are extinct”.

Green scales dragged the iron chains across the carpet. The dragon let a small roar when a tiny hand lifted a dragon made of wood and hit it thrice on the castle. The silver-eyed twins, Rhaella and Rhaellor, aged three, struggled to teach the bronze-eyed boy, Aerys, how to fight with wooden dragons, with little success.

“Aerys, this way you’ll destroy the castle!”, Rhaellor took the wooden dragon from his hand. Aerys cried.

Maerryn approached the children, got down to reach them. The three were raised as siblings, spoke only High Valyrian, to honor their blood. “Rhaellor, stop arguing with your cousin!”, she scolded him, and returned the dragon to the little boy.

Went back to the seat beside Daenerys, who supported a velvet fabric in her growing womb. “I thank you, sister”. They shared a smile. “Look, I’ve been working on this for Aerys’ nameday”.

Maerryn analyzed the brown fabric. Three dragons flew over the Red Keep on a cloudy sky. Goldwing, Bleedfyre and Wildbreath were in their splendor, as big as history would describe their glory, three dragons for the three remaining Targaryens. She looked at the three dragons playing near the children, and wondered where they would be kept once they grew larger; the ancient idea of a pit filled her with sadness. “It’s beautiful. I’m proud of your progress, sister”, Maerryn smiled. “I wish I had my rhinestones to add, but I left them in Winterfell, years ago”.

“Do you miss it? Winterfell?”.

The golden eyes looked ahead to the red sand. The cold of Winterfell haunted her through the eyes of Rhaellor and Rhaella. They reminded her of the never ending snow, the cold walls, the loneliness. When Maerryn first held them upon leaving her womb, the sight of silver eyes made her cry. She thanked the gods, for they gave her something to remember her husband. Alive or dead, Eddard Stark was present in their strength, their compassion. The princess prayed every day for him. But Winterfell could burn, she’d rather spend her whole life on the desert with little water. “There was not a day in which I didn’t shiver. Only Ned could bring warmth”.

They shared a laugh. “Indeed, must be unbearable. Our little dragons would suffer. As did you, sister”.

Suddenly, Wildbreath sung. Goldwing climbed on Maerryn, big enough to cover her body. The entrance was lifted, Viserys was welcomed by the green dragon, the blue eyes enchanted on how he had grown, almost the size of a pony. His hand messed the white curls of the children and embraced his sisters.

“Viserys! It’s been years!”, said Maerryn, as the two sisters got up.

The prince kept them seated. “Do not rise! It seems I’ll have another nephew”, his hand greeted the child on Daenerys’ womb.

“No one is more thrilled than the Khal! He even dismissed Daenerys of serving him, on the sole purpose of preserving the child”.

“What is Valyria like? Did you get hurt?”.

“It’s beautiful. Surrounded by ruins, abyss and sea. Inhabited. Got a few scars from it, but it’s too soon to say”.

Rhaellor pulled his mother’s dress. “Mother!! Look, dragon eggs!”.

Each child carried an egg, scales shining on the sun. Bleedfyre quickly flew to protect the bag. “Er, children, these are not toys!”, said Viserys, putting the eggs back to the bag. “It was supposed to be a surprise. If they hatch”.

“So it’s true! Sister, maybe we can hatch more! Look how many!”, Daenerys asked to see the bag, and counted three red, one bronze, two silver, one green, two gold.

“Maybe Goldwing can help incubate them”, said Maerryn, and the gold dragon bumped on her hand.

When the moon was beginning to lower, Maerryn woke up with screams. Beside her, Rhaegor slept profoundly, but Rhaella had terror in her eyes, large tears made of fear. “My angel”, she hugged the girl, “did you have a nightmare?”.

Rhaella sniffed, calmed at her mother’s embrace. “Can you tell me what it was?”. She caught breath, “I… I saw a giant lion. It was a cub, but big. Cornered me and Rhaellor to an abyss. It stepped closer and closer, until it was inches away. And then… a wolf jumped in front of us. But the cub killed the wolf. There was a lioness with wings who attacked the cub, carved the claws on his heart and started eating him. Mother, I’m scared. These dreams are not real, are they?”.

Maerryn frowned, caressed the white curls. “Have you had these dreams before?”. Rhaella shook her head. The princess kissed her head. “I’ve had dreams like yours since young. They talk of past, of future, and will haunt you as long as you live. Rhaella, look at me”. The child obeyed, the silver eyes shining in the moonlight. “Don’t ever tell anyone about them. Not even Rhaellor. They will fret once they find truth in your visions, and you will be their prisoner. You must only tell me. Promise?”. Rhaella nodded, and hugged her.

The amber eyes looked at the white curls of the twins. Maerryn had delayed her mission to ensure their safety, but Rhaella’s dream reminded her of their fate. She woke up Rhaellor. “My two little dragons”, she smiled, “I need you to be kind and strong. Mother will be away for a while. You must obey your uncles. I will send for you when the time is right. Take care of Goldwing for me, will you?”.

They cried silently. Maerryn kissed their foreheads, a blessing for the difficult times to come. Gave them the dragon’s eye ring as an insignia for her word. “We will meet again very soon”.

Entered Daenerys’ tent. Touched her shoulder. “Sister. I must leave now. Please take care of the children. I will send for them, for you, as soon as I can”.

“Where will you go?”.

“I must pay an old debt”.

In the ardent sun, iron claws touched the golden grass. The white curls shined on the open wheat field. Once the land made of gold, the Westernlands were now an open grave. Even the strong Baratheon army and the king’s army couldn’t defeat the wrath of the Riverlands and the North. The golden grass hid the ashes on the ground, castles were crumbled to ruins. As a result, Tywin Lannister was deposed as hand. The lions lost most of their glory.

The sun seemed to mock at the sight of Maerryn Targaryen, princess of Dragonstone, chasing a rabbit across the wheat fields. She had payed her way from the red waste to the free cities to Lannisport. Painted the white hair with octopus excrement, no one would say a thing to a lowborn witch traveling to the Island of Faces. The claws grasped the ears, looked at the paralyzed rabbit. In other times, she would skin it, turn the beautiful fur into a hand warmer for the lands of ever winter. But at this moment, her thoughts were muddled, the lioness craved for flesh.

Entered a cave under the hill. Found seat on a rock, made a cut on the rabbit with the iron claws. A deep growl startled her. The remaining sun rays kissed golden paws that stepped closer. A copper-black mane adorned the large head, showed its fangs at each growl, larger than a hand.

The great lion approached slowly. The amber eyes widened, marveled at its mightiness. Placed the rabbit on the floor, in front of the animal, she was herself a lioness and it would spare her. It would spare her, Maerryn watched the great lion tear the rabbit apart. The sun hid on the horizon; the lioness laid on the rocks and closed the eyes at the sound of hunger.

Woke up in a fright. The bright sun lit the black cave, and the great lion laid beside her. Purred at the pale curls, its mouth presented her with a rabbit, intact. Maerryn held the dead rabbit, the beast lowered its head, the small hand found its mane. The great lion curled to her. Astonished, Maerryn accepted its company. “The gods showed mercy”, she whispered, caressing the beast, no house from the west had ever tamed a great lion. The princess cried at the sun. She had a claim to The Rock.

Walked for days. The great lion became her esquire, often hunting for them both, growling in response to whatever she told him. Maerryn then begun circling The Rock, hiding in caves, scratching the claws to spend her time. Until one night the guards marched outside of The Rock. Until one night the great lion followed her and sat behind, as her hand found the secret door to the mines. Until all lions from Casterly Rock were freed and answered to her command. Until she found Tywin Lannister in his room, without a single man to guard him.

The marble floor lit by the crackling fire. The old lion sit at the council table, accompanied by two empty goblets and a chalice full of wine. Had the last sip of many, all around him begun to blur and he wanted nothing more than a maiden to bed, a sack of coins would do. Supported the body with his hands on the table, and as he tried to focus ahead, a woman appeared behind the arch. Stepped forward, he could see curls ignited by the fire, hidden by a blue veil. Pierced his eyes at the fragile body, the small hands, the cat eyes. Eyes he knew too well.

“Myrren?”.

As the dame approached, he noticed. The fire had deceived him, the hair shone as white, as bright as the moon; the eyes were of amber, the claws were of iron. His little cub was no more. Long was the sweet, longing stare of a frightened girl that everything understood, everything accepted. The fierce cat eyes, once cold and green and calculating, turned amber of vengeance, of passion, of fire. His eyes lost color. Beyond him was the little girl he rescued from the Red Keep, who attempted to end his life in this very room, two decades past.

“Maerryn?”.

The princess showed her face. Approached the old man, who struggled to maintain his balance. Giggled, the mighty Tywin Lannister was indeed mediocre, a man with cheap needs, trapped on a mine of gold.

Maerryn had one sip of the chalice. The amber eyes closed at the bitterness left on her throat. Opened, the walls of salt were suddenly licked by orange flames. Turned red. She hugged to swords melted into stone, and above laid a man with nails that reached the floor, hair as white as hers, violent eyes. “Burn them all!”, he ordered. “Burn them all”, the city was in flames, the pitiful princess laid beside her father, certain the guard with lion’s armor would kill them both. She saw the Valyrian steel trespass the black robe above her, clung to the feet of the lion guard.

Across the room, a man with black cape and silver fur stared. The sword fell from his hand, “What have you done?”. The princess quickly crawled to him, kissed his feet, there was kindness in his heart. “My good Ser, if there is any honor left in you, spare my life and of my nephews. They are two and three, and know nothing of cruelty”. A hand touched the white curls, “My princess”, his voice was crisp and deep, harsher than truth, “stay here. I’ll look for your nephews”.

Screams echoed in the hall of the kings. Maerryn silently followed the man with silver fur, and saw the Lord Hand taking off a spear from a woman in orange. Felt a black glove stop her. The princess cried, released herself from the stoic man, hugged the white-haired baby and the girl about her age. “My lord hand, I beg of you”, she pleaded, crawling to his feet, “I, Maerryn Targaryen, princess of Dragonstone, renounce my life in name of my nephews. Kill me, let them return with Lord Stark so they can know peace”.

The man with stern eyes kicked the princess away, stepped outside. The little girl watched him clean the spear. A giant man appeared behind him, a pair of hands lifted her, felt her face bury into the silver fur. Screams followed strange breathing sounds. The princess tried to look behind the man, worried about her nephews, but he rushed towards the door.

A man with a stag helmet stopped him, “Seven hells, Ned, kill the damn girl!”, said the voice as low as thunder. “I must save her”, she heard the crispy voice again. Then, he was stopped again, by a spear. “Hand her to me”, said the man in the lion armor. Maerryn tightened her grip to his neck, screamed at the guard who parted her from him, was thrown inside a carriage. “Your fondness for the princess will be remembered”, she heard the lord Hand’s voice.

“So it’s true”, his words echoed in her mind, as she slowly became aware of her surroundings, “Your hair lost color. Your blood lost gold”.

The amber eyes filled with water. Ned was the one who saved her during the siege. All along, he tried to protect her.

“That night, during the sack. Why did you spare me?”.

“You have the Lannister blood. It’s a pity you disobeyed me and turned to be so unfilial!”.

“I spent my entire life trying to please you! I married North to bring glory to your house. I converted tens of northern banners on your favor! And you had the nerve to disown me!”

His fist met the table. “I sent you North so you would tame the wolves and be fierce, ruthless! Create a Lannister court, seize their power! And what did you do instead?!”, he smiled. “I never expected Ned to be so humble, and you to be so stupid. In the end, you are just a woman. Why did you have to be so compassionate, so reasonable to him? And then… you kidnapped Tyrion! He would not lie about such atrocity, no matter how dumb it was. This is when I cut ties with you. And thinking it could not get worse, you ignited the Riverlands against me! Tell me, how can you possibly be my daughter?!”.

Maerryn looked into the fire. Whatever pain, whatever sorrow she ever felt was because of his doings. Her mother being killed on his command; taught to hate her own kind; Lady Catelyn’s murder, the Stark children becoming orphans, Ned losing his wife; marrying into an unwelcoming clan, the murder attempt by the septa. They all had the same end: to make her suffer.

“What will you do now, dare I ask? Return North? Take Dragonstone? Will you use Ned’s army or the Dothraki? I am curious. Did you ever received another seed? Will the Khal take you as a consort, or you’ll breed little dragons to your brother? A little thing like you is only capable of spreading legs!”.

“Beware of your words”, she warned. “My blood is made of fire and gold. I have children made of ice and fire”, she stated. The great lion appeared behind, and advanced slowly.

“The dragon’s blood locks you in this chain of vengeance! You will do everything in your power until you find justice. However, dear princess, you are doomed. Even if you burn all around you, your heart will never find rest”.

The amber eyes saw fury. “We are no longer father and daughter. But I am still a lioness”. Maerryn climbed on the table and held his neck behind a dagger. Tywin Lannister held the trembling pale hand, eager to push the dagger away.

“I have bred wolves. I have raised a dragon. And I have tamed the lions of the rock”.

The blade trespassed his throat. The lion jumped at his trembling body, as Maerryn took off his head and put it on the velvet sack. The imp invaded the room. “Sister!”, the green eyes widened at the sight of blood, his father’s body being fed to the great lion, “What have you done?!”.

“What I was destined to do”. The princess descended from the table. Her heart knew no remorse. “Rejoice, brother. As promised, you are now Lord of Casterly Rock”.

Tyrion gasped, hid his mouth with the little hands. “This cannot be! You weren’t supposed to kill father! This…”, he fret, failing to see in her the cunning Myrren, who always thought thrice, who would never surrender to such irrational desire. The white hair seemed to grow on her mind, she was a full dragon, in vengeance and madness. “Dear sister, you are blind! We have no forces to stand on our own! No grains, no weapons, all because of the stupid little war your husband laid upon us. How will we stand?!”.

He walked around the table, watched more lions invade the room and devour his father. “The West is but ashes. I- I cannot stay! I will find aid with the Cleganes, yes, they will be of help”.

The iron claws stopped him. “Little brother. Every time you see danger ahead, you flee. Tell me this, why did you lie to father? Wasn’t you who persuaded me to take the Rock for you?”.

He tried to smile. She could be mad, but she saw right through him. “Sister, see, this is too much for me. I never intended to have father killed, I only wanted to…”:

“Whore around and enjoy the never ending pleasures gold can buy! What a coward!”, Maerryn scoffed, “You are indeed a stain on the Lannister name! Good thing I am not your sister anymore”. The dagger met his neck. She would not face betrayal again. “If you back away, you will not live”.

Tyrion lowered his head. It was his fault she turned like this. Had not he encouraged her to take the Rock or supported her, she would not have left Winterfell easily, not after Ned showed his love. Tyrion had given her every reason not to trust him. Since things were so, it was best to let her act her way, and pray he would live. “Sister. Why don’t you rule instead? I never had such aspiration. I am content to stay in your court, even as a jester”.

The princess was silent. The ancient desire of power grew vines on her heart. For three years she rode across the Red Waste, commanded the Khal’s army, slayed people under his name. Maerryn watched the lions fight for Tywin’s body, tearing his members apart. Their obedience to her was a sign from the gods, a sign she was destined to rule the most fearsome of beasts: lions, wolves, dragons.

“There is no one more fit than you”, he sung, desperate for his life. “You have the blood of the dragon. Wherever it goes, so goes power”.

Two entire kingdoms led a three-year war on her name, she remembered. The West was brought to waste because of her. The stag hid on the Red Keep, afraid of the day the dragons would seek his power. She would be merciful, such day would not take much longer.

“Kneel”, she ordered. The imp’s knee met the floor, the sword tinted with blood hit his shoulder. “I, Maerryn Targaryen, the lioness, Queen in the Rock, princess of Dragonstone and heir to the seven kingdoms, hereby name thee, Lord Tyrion of Casterly Rock, as hand of the queen”.

Tyrion kissed her hand. Raised at her gesture.

“Send all the ravens in the Rock. Announce to the seven kingdoms: Casterly Rock is to stand on its own, as an independent kingdom. The lords of the West are to show on the forthnight to plead loyalty to their queen. Fail to do so, they will be considered traitors and be fed to the lions of the Rock”.

#the lion cub #got fanfic #my fanfics #asoif fanfic #lannister fanfic #targaryen fanfic

1 note · View note

the-monkey-ruler · 11 months ago

Note

Do you think you could make a list from the strongest demon king to the weakest?

Maybe Wukong's sworn brothers other than the demon bull king wouldn't be included because we never see them fight (although I understand they fought alongside Wukong when he rebelled against heaven?)

I could only give out a rough outline since I'm not really a 'power scaler' and honestly it's hard to say if by strong you mean the most difficult or if they had powerful attacks. Most of Wukong's worst fights aren't, particularly because his enemies were physically powerful but just had a strong weapon or a single powerful attack while being a glass canon.

While Wukong's sworn brothers did join the fight against heaven, their own armies were captured. Not sure if this was to reflect Wukong's favoritism toward his own monkeys or to show how his sworn brothers were outclassed but I am not even going to try to guess.

So this will be more of a list of Wukong Most DIFFICULT fights to the easiest fights.

Hurt Wukong Trapped Wukong Fought (tie) Fought (lost) Lost without Fight Never seen Fight (inconclusive) Magic Item

Red Boy - made Wukong pass out, Guanyin subdued him, glass cannon

Scorpion Demoness - poisoned Wukong, killed by Pleiades Star Offical, glass cannon

Yellow Wind Demon - make Wukong blind, he needed Lingshan's help, glass cannon

Hundred-Eyed Demon Lord - blinded Wukong momentarily, also taken out by Star Official Pleides

Golden-Winged Great Peng - Talons overpowered Wukong, was taken out by Buddha

Silver Horned King - captured Wukong due to magic spell and has magic item, was killed later though

Single Horned Rhinoceros King - very powerful magic item used, subdued by Laozi

Yellow Brows Great King - powerful magic item and needed Maitreya Buddha help to defeat

Princess Iron Fan - blew Wukong away with magic item, he needed Lingshan's help

Golden Horned King - captured Wukong due to magic items

Six Eared Macaque - tie until Buddha gave Wukong the upper hand

Bull Demon King - impressive fight but still ran away after being overwhelmed in numbers

Yellow Robe Demon - impressive fight but Wukong still needed the 28 Star's help

Nine-Headed Insect - ran away until taken out by Erlang Shen

Black Wind King - good at escaping, needed Gaunyin's help

Great Immortal King of Spiritual Touch - Gaunyin defeated in the end

Yellow Toothed Elephant - defeated Bajie, lost to Wukong

Azure Lion / Lion-Lynx Demon - defeated Wujing, lost to Wukong

Grand Saint of Nine Spirits - Wukong had Tianzun to help

King of Dust Protection - captured Bajie and Wujing

King of Heat Protection - captured Bajie and Wujing

King of Cold Protection - captured Bajie and Wujing, was killed by Bajie

Lady Earth Flow - able to slip away, needed Nezha and King's Li's help

Great King Jupiter's Rival - had a magic item but never got a chance to use against Wukong

Tuolong Black River God - his own cousin took him out but even Wujing could fight him

Python Demon

White Bone Demon - hard to pin down but killed in one blow

Spider Demons - stole Sanzang but very easy to defeat

King of the Southern Hill

Tiger Strength Great Immortal

Elk Strength Great Immortal

Antelope Strength Immortal

White Deer Spirit

Nine-Tailed Vixen

Great King Fox Number Seven

Wansheng Dragon King

Demon King of Confusion

Dragon Demon King

Peng Demon King

Lion Demon King

Female Macaque King

Snub Nose Monkey King

Bear Mountain Lord

This is my personal take on the Demon Kings and as you can see, I did include demons that aren’t technically Demon Kings but rather the main antagonist in their arc. This also doesn't include ALL the demons or any gods or immortals that Wukong has fought with either, these are just the Demon Kings (or at least demons that are the big bad in their arcs) so there are still other antagonists that are in the book on here.

I am solely going on how the fights went in my notes and what I can remember so if you remember these fights going differently and actually want to add any details please let me know. I didn't include anything that the demons like 'claim' to have or powers or feats that they have done, just what they ACTAULLY did in the story, cause actions speak louder than words.

There could be grey area with the demons with magic items. And you could argue how easily the demons that caused Wukong the most damage were easily defeated by other gods just because they could bypass their one (1) magic spell gimic that was just giving Wukong trouble. Two of these Demon Kings were taken out by the SAME ROOSTER just because they are insect demons and roosters are their natural enemies. So take that as you will... Other demons Kings were defeated just cause their owner showed up before they could really fight too.

35 notes · View notes

perfectlyvalid49 · 2 years ago

Text

Carol of the bells is my favorite Christmas song, and I had no idea that the melody was from another song. That’s really neat!

It doesn’t explain why the song goes so hard though, and I have a theory! Basically, it’s that the little melody of four notes that’s repeated over and over (sing, “Hark! How the bells” it’s that) is the dies irae (pronounced dee-eys ear-ey; it’s Latin).

What’s the dies irae? It’s a Gregorian chant from the 13th century about the wrath of God that is referenced all over in modern music when something bad is happening or when someone dies. You’ve almost certainly heard it before – It’s in the Lion King when Scar tells the hyenas to kill Simba as a cub, it’s in A New Hope when Luke sees his homestead burning, it’s the four notes that play every time Kevin sees Old Man Marley in Home Alone, and it’s the four notes that Elsa hears in Frozen II. If you want more examples, there’s a TV Tropes page: https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/DeathlyDiesIrae

So, your brain has been trained to hear those notes, and think, “Oh man, this is dangerous, somebody might die.” And then it’s just a Christmas song? Like, your ears are hearing: Hark how the bells, sweet silver bells, all seem to say, throw cares away

And your brain is hearing: Something real bad Is happening Someone might die During this song

Add in the fact that it’s a relatively fast melody, and you have something that is designed to subconsciously make you kinda tense. And I think that people who like the song are really just appreciating the tension, even if they don’t know where it’s coming from. Like, OP compares it to fire shooting out of a flaming skull, and that’s what the dies irae does – it’s a flaming skull for your ears.

Now why this was used to compose a New Years song in Ukraine 100 years ago? That, I can’t answer.

Only good thing about Christmas time is I get to hear carol of the bells all the time but the bad part is I have to act normal like that song doesn’t go hard as fuck

#carol of the bells #dies irae #music theory #I’m not an expert #I just watch a lot of You Tube #it's still my favorite christmas carol

64K notes · View notes

ancestorsofjudah · 1 year ago

Text

1 Kings 10: 18-22. "The Great Throne."

Lions, the instinct man has for just rulership, eat gazelles, the little doe eyed boys that don't yet understand how law and order work quite yet. The process in Judaism begins early in life, how predators protect the weak.

The apex predator according to the Religion is the King of Israel, who sits atop a great throne:

18 Then the king made a great throne covered with ivory and overlaid with fine gold.

The throne of God is the reigning centre of God in the Abrahamic religions: primarily Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. The throne is said by various holy books to reside beyond the Seventh Heaven which is called Araboth (Hebrew: עֲרָבוֹת 'ărāḇōṯ) in Judaism.

Ivory has a Gematria of 1239, אבגט‎‎ abgate, "the supreme from the farthest shore". To overlay in gold is to preserve the inner and outer appearance of balance between the cometing forces that interfere with the pure expression of the Sefirot by the one who takes the Big Seat:

"The Ark itself was made of wood. Yet, the verse (Exodus 25:11) tells us, “And you shall overlay it with pure gold, from inside and from outside.”

The Jews fulfilled this directive by making three boxes tucked into each other. The larger, visible box was made of pure gold. Inside it, they placed a box of acacia wood. Then a second golden box was placed inside the wooden one. Thus, the middle wooden box was covered with gold inside and out.3

What does this teach us about our personal Mishkans?

We, too, have three layers. The innermost dimension of the soul is “pure gold.” This is our “G‑dly spark”—that part of our subconscious that can never be tainted, just like gold, which is an inorganic element not subject to change.

Next comes the more visible part of our soul: our personality. Feelings, attitudes, moods—the part of us that fluctuates constantly. Like wood, these can either be exquisite and beautiful (our idealistic, spiritual moments), or rotten (the moments filled with depression and negative desires)."

19 The throne had six steps, and its back had a rounded top. On both sides of the seat were armrests, with a lion standing beside each of them.

A good ruler must never have a guilty conscience. In order for Solomon to rule wisely with justice and compassion in his heart and mind, he needed to understand Teshuvah and Shauvot (like the rest of us!) and be of a sound mind and ritually pure soul.

Teshuvah are the Six Steps of Atonement and Reconciliation. They are performed in tandem with the special Shabbat performed during Pesach. Then comes Shavuot, the "weeks" that followed, which culiminate in the receipt of the Torah.

To rule deep within oneself, then outside and ensure the marks of social and corporate justice are met, one must soul search as during an observance of Pesach, what is one hearing and seeing, and what is one going to do about it?

Then comes the process of actively referring to the Torah which has already been deposited by God, the Temple, one's parents and culture in its place in one's final judgement. This is the Shavuot.

20 Twelve lions stood on the six steps, one at either end of each step. Nothing like it had ever been made for any other kingdom.

The Twelve Lions representr the majesty of mental achivement signified by the 12 Noble Skills, AKA the 12 Tribes of Israel.

21 All King Solomon’s goblets were gold, and all the household articles in the Palace of the Forest of Lebanon were pure gold. Nothing was made of silver, because silver was considered of little value in Solomon’s days.

22 The king had a fleet of trading ships[h] at sea along with the ships of Hiram. Once every three years it returned, carrying gold, silver and ivory, and apes and baboons.

All of King Solomon's goblets were made of and meant to serve up the spoils of God, for neither are possible without a community of intelligent and artfully trained persons who are not making war. Along with civil rights, Solomon placed his valuables in his Forest Palace, at a location cleared specifically for the purposes of cultivating a just and peaceful place for people to live.

Trading ships are vehicles of scholarship. We know Hiram brought the Hindoo School into the mix, but Solomon didn't stop there. In addition to bringing new learned men into his kingdom, Solomon lured apes and babboons, persons on the fringes, into schools and institutions of learning so they too could one day aspire to the Throne of Israel.

All of these things the King of Israel pursued like a hungry predator. Thus is the Kabbalah of the Great Lion Throne.

0 notes

countrymusiclover · 4 months ago

Text

43 - The People of King's Landing

Part 44

The Lion Knight and Dragon Princess

Tags- just send an ask to be added @cdragons @kmc1989 @starkleila @noirrose21-blog @lover-of-books-and-tea

Vaella’s pov

The small boat of food rocked back and forth with Arya and I sitting across the other in utter silence. I hadn’t gotten much time to speak and learn what had happened to the young Stark girl. Tapping my fingers on my knees with a black cloak hanging over my shoulders I broke the silence. “Arya, can I ask why you want to kill Cersei? I’ve heard why but I figured I should hear your side as well.”

“Joffrey and her beheaded my father in this city after they said he was falsely accused of a crime he did not commit. Her family killed my mother and brother Robb and hurt my sister Sansa. She needs to be removed from the Iron Throne.”

Nodding my head I eyed the smaller sword she was carrying compared to the one I had attached to my hip. “Who gave you your sword? Does it have a name?”

“Jon gave it to me before he went to the Wall. My sister has her own needles and I have this one. So it’s called Needle. What about yours?” She pointed her index finger at my sword.

“Rhaella, after my mother. Thankfully I’ve never had to use it yet since the day Jaime gave it to me.”

Arya made a scowled face. “Do you truly love him, the Kingslayer?”

“I owe him my life. When we first met each other we somehow found a way to simply see the other person regardless of what their station was. He’s the father of my children and a good husband compared to what people think.”

The youngest Stark girl stared at me. “Why did he kill The Mad King, your father?”

“To save the population of King's Landing and avoid bloodshed. The exact same thing we are doing now against Cersei Lannister.” I brushed hair behind my ear glancing forward seeing we were getting close to the docks of the fish shipping area. “We’re here. Remember what I told you.”

Arya resighted the words exactly. “Stick to your back and don’t kill anyone but Cersei unless we get ambushed.”

“Exactly, young Stark.” I muttered, reaching behind my head and throwing the hood over my face. I didn’t need everyone in the city to recognize my silver hair except for two people that could help with our plan to get the city's food destroyed. Once we had tied the boat ropes onto some stable ground we got off the small boat and began our walk up the hill. There weren't too many houses this far away at the water's edge making it easy to knock on the first door that we came to. Knocking three times on the wooden door it creaked open with me muttering into the barely lit darkness. “And the dragons roared as one.”

“Princess Vaella, it’s you. I had begun to fear the worst when you hadn’t come to pay me for the food I provide you weekly at Jack’s tavern.” Nallie with her light brown hair that had some gray stands in it peaked her head out from around the door noticing Arya standing behind me. “Who’s your friend, my princess?”

Looking out the corner of my eye I introduced the pair quickly knowing we needed to get to the secret passageways before sunrise. “Her name is Arya. I’m sorry to say we don’t have time to chat. I need you to transport this food into the city streets and say it’s from Vaella and Daenerys Targaryen, the last living dragons.”

“You’ve brought us smallfolk food?” Nallia asked with a pleased smile on her face.

Grasping one of her hands in mine I smiled back thankful that I had lived like them once to see how life outside the Keep truly was. Cersei thought wrong, these people aren’t your enemy. They are what give you power more than wearing a crown on your head. “I have not forgotten my subjects unlike Queen Cersei has. You help me hold the realm together. Can you do what I ask of you now?”

“Of course, my princess.” Nallia gave me a curtsy before Arya and I quickly left her sneaking through the streets until I found the back door to the tavern I knew quite well.

We didn’t utter a word while we made our way through the underground passageways. I was rather proud of myself that I was able to still remember all of these without a map. Pushing two uneven stones forward the secret passage door in front of me clicked open allowing me to slowly enter inside and see we were in the large room that had a painted map drawing out across the whole floor.

“Where do we go from here? Where’s the Queen?” Arya began looking around the room, keeping one hand on her small sword.

Slowly shifting my gaze across the room I could picture myself when I was younger running through the halls with Jaime and my brother Rhaegar when we were coming back from being on the city streets below and it was late at night. “Arya, I’m gonna go find her on my own.”

“What! No way in hell. You asked me to come with you to kill the Queen. I’m going to kill her even if you are now chickening out.” She snapped at me trying to move around me until I snagged her wrist.

“You will get to kill her like you’ve wanted I swear to you. But you can’t come with me for that to be accomplished. You must hide in the shadows until I bring her back into this area. She needs to be alone for you to be able to kill her. Do you understand me, young Stark?”

She blinked through some angry tears but nodded her head slowly yes. “I’ll follow your instructions, Vaella.”

I released her wrist heading around one of the pillars and up the nearest staircase that would lead to the Red Keep tower that overlooked the entire city. I used to go up there to watch the sunset but now I am going to face the woman who could be just as mad as my father was. Pausing in front of the open doorway I wrapped my fingers around the sword handle, finding the Lannister lioness standing in front of the large open windows overlooking the city. “Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. You must be proud of yourself.”

“The Mad King's Whore of a daughter. I didn’t expect you to be so stupid as to come try and kill me all by yourself while I hold all the power in the realm.” Cersei slowly turned on her heels until she was facing me.

“I’m not here to kill you, Cersei.” I pushed the door closed, not removing my gaze away from her vengeful green eyes. I stood next to the table keeping my distance from her and not removing my weapon. “But I can say for absolute certainty your reign ends today.”

Rhaegar’s pov

Stormfly’s wings slowly flapped while I had my sister riding her own dragon right beside me. My mothers loyal houses riders were on their own dragons flying a few feet away from us so that we were all spread out in the skies above Kings Landing. Amethyst, my mothers dragon, was hiding behind the Red Keep in the woods in case mother needed to ride her.

My aunt Daenerys dives down to the watery ground and when she got close to the ships she blew them apart with heavy dragon fire. “That’s our signal. Go, go!” I hollered to the other dragon riders beside me before diving down towards the water.

My twin sister soared down beside me destroying two ships at once. The other noble houses of Valyria did their best to destroy some ships at the same time. We definitely had the advantage of coming in at nightfall before the sun had risen above the water so they didn’t see us coming.

Tucking the reins of Stormfly she made a loud noise I clutched the reins giving her a command in high Valyrian. “Dracarys, Stormfly!” She opened her mouth wide and destroyed five ships in one hit.

“Rhaegar, what are those things?” Luciya flew over to me pointing her index finger to some men on a ship getting what looks to be a very large crossbow loaded and aimed up towards our army of dragons.

Lord Waters and his dragon drudged a large spear that was fired up in the sky at them that had come from the crossbow altering the group. “Those blasted things can kill us!”

“Argh!” I groaned, yanking Stormfly’s reins where she avoided the multiple amount of spears coming up at us not needing to get hit.

“Rhaegar!”

Whipping my head around, I recognize my sister's voice behind me screaming out. Shireen’s leg had gotten hit by one of the spears causing her to begin falling towards the water. “Luciya, no!” Her dragon's wings wrapped around her small body doing her best to secure her body before they crashed into one of the buildings creating large rubble from the collision.

10 notes · View notes