#tw pyre

[umbravirtus]

Starter for @wintersovereign

Hans waited again outside his father's office. All his duties were done earlier, so he could see him as he retired for the night. It's been their routine for 2 months now, Hans waits outside the red and gold doors and Ulrich pretends he's not there, but today, The King of the Southern Isles has decided to indulge him. With a disappointed, nay tired sigh Ulrich motions for his youngest to enter his office, and Hans follows. The doors are closed behind them by the guards. Hans feels the stuffy air of the place and remembers how small he felt every time he entered, how his father's booming voice and presence seemed to fill the space, asphyxiating him. But he has a mission today.

Everything in the king's office was a testament to his prowess, his accomplishments, and more. Hunting trophies mounted to a wall above the chimney, sports trophies and medals won by himself and his sons on a glass case, war game trophies behind his tall rest chair. Without saying a word King Ulrich invited Hans to sit, interested in whatever his youngest had to say, and sat himself, the chair under him made a sound as if the weight of the king was too much to bear.

"You've been persistent and patient, waiting me out daily for months. You're also shooting too high as I shall remind you, you're a stable boy after your stunt in Arendelle, and no stable boy can speak directly to his king, there are channels you have to go through, so clearly, whatever you have to say must be important." He makes a pause

"Important enough to let me know you have too much free time, to wait for me and need more duties added to your plate." Ulrich sentences and watches his son in front of him, determined, unwavering. Interesting he thought, but kept to himself. His expression is unmoving.

This was, as far as he was concerned, out of character for Hans.

"You may speak." Ulrich finally says. This better be good. Hans swallows, doing everything to hide how his hands shook as he put a paper on his father's desk and spoke with firm conviction but an even tone. "Your grace," he has lost the right to call him father, per his punishment, but he should address him differently for even in his fallen status he was still his blood and above the common rabble, or so Ulrich said.

"Queen Elsa of Arendelle has been sentenced to death by Pyre by the church." Hans goes straight to the point. Ulrich arched a brow amused, raising a hand for Hans to stop talking, he interjected.

"And you're here for what reason, exactly, vindication? To say you were right and she's a witch? Everyone with eyes present in Arendelle saw that, Hans." Urlich scoffs, shaking his head "But if you must hear it, boy, you were right, she is a witch, still, the perception remains you're a regicide and have stained the good name of the Westergaards, you either shouldn't done heroics, like the rest of the present or should have succeeded in taking an empty throne, but you did neither." Ulrich felt like he knew this was a mistake and that he regretted entertaining his son, he was about to stand up, and this was him making excuses again when he heard Hans speak out of turn. "We should save her, your grace." The younger says, eyes fixed on his father.

Ulrich knows the fear his sons have of him, he worked hard to put it there, so Hans, meek, sensible, goofy Hans speaking out of turn was a welcome surprise. He sat down again.

"Are you guilty, my boy?" He asks "Perhaps, taken by her?" he questions hand on his chin. "I was, taken by her your grace, but not anymore." Hans fessed up, he suspected his father knew about his letters.

"Really" Ulrich sounds amused and surprised. "And why should we save her, boy?" he wonders "What's in it for us, for our kingdom?"

"I won't insult your intelligence by telling your grace, she would be a powerful ally, nor will I say, this is the way to Arendelle, his grace was waiting for, since with the Queen gone the kingdom is ripe for the taking by our allies in Weselton, I won't either pretend to know what's right given my shortsightedness for which you've granted me the chance at penance, I will say, your grace, the most powerful reason is that she's a mouse."

As far as he was concerned Hans just spent half an hour stating the obvious but he was not wrong if he had given him any of those reasons to save Elsa he wouldn't have. "A mouse?" the king repeats. "How so?" he was actually interested in what Hans had to say, nay, for the first time in his youngest life.

"She's a girl without a father's guidance, she's been alone for the best part of her life, in seclusion, and she's got the prowess but she's scared, that's who I saw on the fjord, a scared girl that needs a father and a mentor, she's a mouse."

Ulrich listens intently. The truth was, he never wanted to hear Hans' version of events, but he knew enough to know what he was talking about "And yet, you decided to kill her." He points out, watching for his reaction.

"Yes, Your Grace, for she had stricken her sibling's heart with a blast of magical ice and she was, as far as this servant was concerned on death's door; her limbs and face covered in frost with nothing this servant could or should do for her aid," Hans licks his lips but his eyes remain trained on his father. "I took regretful actions to the detriment of the youngest princess and I am not proud, but I will stand by my actions towards the sovereign, for it was an act of mercy." Ulrich looked at Hans, in front of him and nodded. "Gustav," he calls his chamberlain, his office was to the left of the King, and the doors opened "Yes, Your Majesty."

"See that Prince Hans is given back his titles, and that he looks as princely as he should upon my return. Prepare Berzerker, tell Franz, Viktor, and Lars we're departing as soon as the ship is ready." "Yes, Your Majesty," Gustav says and leaves, to start the machinery needed to put the massive vessel in motion.

Hans was astounded. Frozen in place. Ulrich finally stands and pats his shoulder, "I'll go fetch the Queen, Hans" Hans, not boy.

Hans knew this would come with a cost, but he was willing to pay the price. "We'll talk about this when I come back," Ulrich announces and leaves the office to ready himself for the travel, once Hans is left alone in the office, he collapses into the chair in his arms, finally shaking, releasing his breath he had been holding, tears threatening to fall. What just happened? he wonders.

To Ulrich, Hans was right, she was a mouse, but a mouse that had managed in three days what he couldn't, she, singlehandedly took his youngest from a boy to a man, from a mouse to a lion. From someone who gave excuses and was meek in his speech to someone who didn't see him with his gaze downcast, whatever she gave him, he needs more of that.

And if he found an excuse to piss off the church, gain more allies, save face to his current allies, and expand his territory while at it, he was all too happy to do it.

(...)

The southern Isles' fleet arrived in Arendelle as a show of force. Berserker was followed by three other ships and by the looks of it they got there just in time.

When the dock master tried to stop them, they said they were there to stop the execution so at a great risk to himself, he let them through. The people of Arendelle loved their Queen, so insurrection and chaos were the feeling and moment, but a foreign, well-trained, well-funded army was able to quickly take over the small army of Arendelle and everyone had heeded the Queen's request of no bloodshed.

Ulrich guessed the redhead that was being held by three soldiers so she wouldn't run into the pyre was the younger princess. The one Hans was briefly engaged to. The red capes of the four men parted the crowd as Moses parted the sea, and with good reason.

Westergaards came in all shapes and sizes but Ulrich had handpicked the biggest and broadest. There were giant wardrobes of men flanking him, Ulrich himself was smaller but still stood proudly with his 5"8' height yet it was his presence and the air he carried himself with that took space. The experience of kinghood one could guess, and it was easy to see where Hans learned his charm from, the man has a sharp, angular face with high cheekbones, piercing expressive eyes, and a slightly prominent nose. His features often lend him a look of gravitas, giving him a timeless and dignified appearance.

There was an army behind them, nobody wanted to engage just yet but it was clear they would.

The deacon held the unlit torch in his hand when he saw the group arrive. Ulrich and the church already had their issues, they were known enemies, so the deacon recognized them on the spot.

"I presume his majesty is here to witness the execution? perhaps finally bridge the gap between the church and your kingdom by vindicating your son's actions in detaining this foul, evil witch?"

Ulrich's rich, deep, and smooth voice echoed through the crowd His enunciation is precise, and the way he spoke with a measured cadence, giving his dialogue weight and sophistication. All planned.

"Ah, Au contraire, monsignor" Ulrich clocked the man's rank just by his robes. "I am here to take the kingdom from the vile, zealots that hide under a false god and feign righteousness such as yourself" He smiled like the cat that got the cream. He points at Berserker, she has, in the time this interaction has taken place turned around on the docks, the canons, the three rows of them totaling 158 canons, now are facing Arendelle.

The clergymen looked at it nervously. Just when did this happen and how did they get there "My ship has instructions to fire if they see a column of smoke or my signal, none of us, is making it out of here, and my gods will receive me with glory, women and thunderous clap in their hall meanwhile yours, well, might be a little disappointed that you choose" He looks around "This many lives over a little peace agreement."

"You cannot possibly be serious, Majesty this is madness." the man with the torch in his hand spoke. "Queen Elsa," Ulrich spoke directly to her. "You need my aid and my son needs a wife, say yes, so this puny excuse of a man knows, just how serious this is."

[rainbowsparklecur]

some pam

[averlym]

" just...come here. just sit here with me" (...that one scene from princess momonoke, click for better resolution)

[knifegremliin]

guy fieri lookin motherfucker

[hazyaltcare]

A moodboard for a songtive of Venus Doom by HIM with themes of being a god and the color orange.

Mod Rook

[drakonquill]

I was going to write today, and then my partner's discord got hacked and we lost a bunch of money. We've got it under wraps now, but I think I'm going to just chill and not let myself think too hard about anything.

[new-eyes-extra-colors]

following up an earlier post with some more thoughts on religion and mythology in my pokemon fanfiction.

in hoenn, legend has it humans and pokemon were made out of an uneven mix of earth and water, the same makeup as the planet. when they die they're buried or buried at sea to return that material to its source. cemetaries are often also gardens, and some folks living out in the country may forego a community cemetery to bury their loved one in their garden. it's taboo to disturb a burial place or dig up a garden.

may thinks this is strange because she's johtoni, originally from blackthorn, and according to their traditions bodies are burned to release the soul to ho-oh for safekeeping so they can be reincarnated. burying a body traps the soul outside of ho-oh's domain.

[tokachithewarrior2]

[omegathetaone]

People who fakeclaim systems because of the source of someone's alters boggles me. Like...you know nobody can control where they come from right?

Us, for example. We have an alter from a piece of media that we expressly avoided because we didn't like the creators and the environment of the media itself. We consumed the media for maybe 2 months before leaving, and then avoided it for personal reasons.

We ended up getting a split from that piece of media. He hates his source, and tries his best to remind people of that. It sees people tell other systems that they "aren't valid" because of his source. It is a source of constant anger for him because he didn't choose to be split from that media.

I'll try to explain this as best I can, but he despises the idea that just because he exists, for reasons out of his control, that the rest of our system would be considered invalid. Out loud, it sounds dumb, because it is. Just because he exists doesn't mean the entire fucking system is invalid.

He's an introject. That's it. There was no picking and choosing to have him be a part of the system. It's here because our brain thought he could protect us. It's that fucking simple.

[umbravirtus]

@wintersovereign wants some Hygge.

"Almost there," he says, his cravat is covering Elsa's eyes and he helps her sit down, all she knows is that she needs to wear pants for today's activity, he takes her to an area of the garden that's well-manicured but has smooth concrete pathways which were the point of today's activity.

"Keep your eyes closed we're almost there, I'm going to take away your shoes and fit you with another pair, bear with me." He says with a giggle and so, Hans helps her sit down on a bench, takes away her shoes, leaves them on the trunk there, puts on her feet a nice pair of quad skates, ties her shoelaces nicely, and, then tells her "Now, open your eyes" He smiles as he removes his cravat.

"Surprise, I'm going to teach you how to use these bad boys on the path here, we'll do the whole maze, and then we can come back here for me to grab another pair and we can skate together."

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

Although at first he’d be too distracted by cuddles to care, it would probably hurt Pyre that the first thing Eclipse did upon seeing him was to try and get rid of him. If it takes a bit for Bloodmoon and KC to calm Eclipse down Pyre might have unpossessed the plushie (indicated by the eyes no longer glowing) and hid somewhere else while invisible, he’s used to people not wanting him around, so he’ll stay out of the way. Although he’d probably stay within earshot so he can tell what’s going on

Oh he’d absolutely know it’s because Eclipse is terrified in general of ghosts. He’d be crying about ghosts and asking if there’s more and ‘why is it moving!? did you summon something into that plushie!?’ and just generally shaky and hiding away himself from Blood Moon holding Pyre’s plushie self.

But once they calm Eclipse down, he’d very gingerly reach out for the plushie and try to touch it, coaxed by the twins and KC to do so after scaring their poor ghostly guest, who is quite literally just existing, to apologize to Pyre.

[kaerinio]

the terms of endearment used between dany and drogo don't materialize out of nowhere. "my sun-and-stars" and "moon of my life" come directly from dany's own influence. you see, these terms do not appear officially until after rhaego's conception, and earlier that very night, dany engages in a discussion with her handmaids, asking if they've seen dragons, if they've heard of living dragons, if they know of magic, stormsingers, shadowbinders, sorcerers. she also muses about magic's death in the west following the doom. it is here that doreah unveils the legend of the two moons, the sun, and the dragons hatching from the first moon, which cracked and perished upon getting too close to the sun; according to her, the other moon will one day kiss the sun, and dragons will enter the world once more. intrigued by the tale and driven by some sort of magical instinct/intent, dany invites doreah to dine with her, and it is during this extended time that she decides she, dragon-blooded and moon-kissed, must kiss her own representation of the sun, drogo, in order to bring dragons back into the world. at this point, she's experiencing some phenomena with the eggs, like the heat radiating from within them and the visions of thousands upon thousands of flames flashing when she looks at them, but she's still convinced that they are petrified stone. she hasn't yet fully awakened the valyrian sorcery pulsing in her blood, but after hearing doreah's story, she knows that she is the one who must restore her house. she must "bring back the dragons" in the only way she knows how: by conceiving a son. and in her choice to conceive him beneath the moon (and under the eyes of the open sky, where all important things are done in the dothraki tradition), it is clear that she knows she will conceive him (which is later noted in her very subtle "i know" to jhiqui, who is marveling at the slight swell of her belly).

also, earlier in the chapter, we see jorah deem rhaegar as the last dragon; this acts as a driver of sorts, pushing her to want to restore her house, especially as viserys becomes more and more erratic and as her awareness of how awful he would be as a king grows. jorah's words act as a spark, but it's her desire to give her home a good ruler that truly leads her to want to conceive rhaego. in these moments of reflection, dany imagines the child she would raise, and i would argue that she even thinks of the name "rhaego" almost immediately.

anyway, i have completely gone off the rails here, but the point is: "my sun-and-stars" and "moon of my life" are not meaningless terms of affection. additionally, with the legend in mind, it's daenerys who first calls drogo her "sun-and-stars" with drogo following suit, calling her "moon of my life" as an homage to that night beneath the stars.

[shmunter]

its fine they’re just sleeping

[eclipsedcrystalstar]

Him!!!! You might notice his obvious lack of legs, they were completely detached at the time he died so they didn’t become part of his ghost

[lightxshadow]

THE SOUL OF A CHILD ; A RIFT BETWEEN THE LORD AND LADY OF HIGHTOWER AND OLDTOWN

after the death of their son, garland and zialla comforted each other all throughout the night as neither could sleep. in the morning trouble arose as they started planning the funeral. zia who had thought dante would be given both the funeral rites of the red religion and the faith of the seven, as they had held two weddings, was shocked when garland told her that dante would not be given the last kiss.

the last kiss is an important ritual after death for the followers of r'hllor in which a priest or priestess gives the departed a 'kiss' and fills their body with fire. zialla pleaded with her husband to allow dante to undergo both rites but to no avail as garland feared their son would end up rejected by the seven and alone with r'hllor without family. this fight led to the two of them not speaking for a few days as they awaited the arrival of garland's family for the funeral. garland slept in his office while zialla stayed in their chambers, healing after giving birth, with their daughter.

after the disastrous hightower dinner, zia invited garland to come back to their chambers and they started speaking again. she still carried resentment over the fact he denied dante the last kiss, but she felt it wrong to continue her silent treatment in lieu of how the dinner ended. she also softened due to how she felt garland defended her in the end. but she has not forgiven nor forgotten as zialla believes their son's soul is now condemned to the darkness of the great other.

[itswrenly]

so that list of dialogue prompts i reblogged earlier?

yeah.

I accidentally wrote 900 words? Maybe? And I really like them??

so uh. That’s under cut. Character study timeee

content warnings:

- Murder/bounty hunting

- Descriptions of blood

- Non-detailed description of wounds

- Mention of a dead body

- On-screen character death

note that these are almost entirely contained within one scene, with the exception of discussions of bounty hunting.

“Stay in the den.”

Lumine remembered this evening well. Years later, it haunted her dreams, and gripped her mind in a way she’d take to her grave.

She is nine years old. Her da leans down, presses their forehead to hers, and tells her to stay. She does, for a few minutes, curling up in their nest and burying her face in her twelve front talons. It’s when she notices that Gamboge is also gone that she gets up.

It’s when she notices that her cousin, Scarab, is soaring outside, yelling for citizens to get into their dens, that she goes looking for her family.

The rope bridges of the Cavern’s Crypt Cord are barren. There’s commotion coming from the market cave, but unlike the usual noise, things sound as though they’ve turned violent. Lumine lacks wings. Additionally, she is a fledgling, and will not become a juvenile for another four years.

However, her family is in danger, and Lumine is as stubborn as she is fast on her feet.

The fledgling bolts across the hempen bridge and into the market. Dragons are flying out in a panic, and fail to notice her small stature slipping by. The scene she’s met with is not a pretty one.

Her da’s bright red scales were stained a shade darker as they stood next to Gamboge, who clutched his face in one of his hands, blood gushing from across his snout. The liquid trails to a serrated machete, discarded on the ground next to where she’s frozen.

It took a moment too long for Lumine to register the body of a Pyrite behind him, still bleeding out.

It took another moment for her to make eye contact with the dragon that stood across from the duo. They were a pale Pyrite, their face adorned with more gold and silver than Lumine would’ve known what to do with. Feathers covered their tail, wings, and wrists. Their sky blue eyes were piercing, almost entrancing in a sense.

Two years later, her da would teach her that the best way to keep someone from noticing someone else’s presence is to pretend to not notice them yourself. Two years later, she’d wonder if her da had known that when they had turned to Lumine and roared.

“RUN, LUMINE!”

It was their voice that wormed its way into her nightmares. Their command for her to flee. Their scream as the bounty hunter’s talons tear into their face. The Pyrite’s talons on the stone as they barrel towards Lumine.

This is the first time Lumine realizes that something is critically wrong with how she reacts to the world around her. This is when Lumine’s arm jerks out, four fingers and two thumbs curling around the handle of the machete. This is when she transfers the weapon to her other hand. This is when she lets in collide with the Pyrite’s chest.

Lumine is nine years old the first time she kills another dragon. There isn’t a drop of blood on her. The only evidence of the incident is the two deceased Pyrites, and the scars across her da and uncle’s faces.

She is seventeen years old. The Pyrite government fell apart last year, the capitol bombed by a group of rebels. Lumine convinced the leader of the rebellion, her surrogate brother’s elder sister, to save as many records of government-hired bounty hunters as she could before the bombing. They’ve finally found their way into Lumine’s talons. 

The bounty hunter’s name was Shāpu. Her aforementioned surrogate brother, a pure-blooded Pyrite named Arashi, tells her he’s rusty on his Old Pyrite, but is fairly confident that the name means “sharp.” She hasn’t told him about the incident, or why she picked through records, searching for those of this hunter specifically. She can tell he’s too afraid to ask.

She is twenty years old. The first time she speaks about the incident to anyone outside of those present is when she is trying to convince a young mixed-blood to fight his pibling, potentially to the death. His name is Pyre. He, like Arashi, is like a brother to her. He is two years younger than she is. He is hesitant. He wants to fight, but he is scared. She knows that his problem isn’t in a lack of skill; the dark purple scar that tears through his right eye he gained when he was just ten years of age makes that clear. She tells him about killing Shāpu. She tells him that she was half the age he is now. She tells him that she doubts he’ll have to fight his pibling to the death. She convinces him to go through with dueling them for leadership of their cord. Pyre wins with minimal bloodshed, and neither party is killed.

Lumine reflects that night. She reads over Shāpu’s records again. She dragonizes them in her head. As she finally lays down to sleep, ignorant of the sun climbing the horizon line, she asks herself if she’s glad she’s still alive.

She’s glad to have her da and Gamboge, who still look out for her. She’s glad to have Arashi, with his knowledge of old Pyrite and all-too-clear tells. She’s glad to have Pyre, with his sense of justice and distaste for violence, despite how he excels at it. So, she decides she’s glad she’s still alive. She’s not sure if she’s glad that Shāpu died for it, but she decides that concern and her answer can coexist.

She is twenty years old. She was nine when she first killed another dragon, but she has a da, an uncle, and two brothers, and she wouldn’t trade a single one of them for anything.