#wild hunt oc

[velen-abera]

My oc!

She's an ice mage of the Wild Hunt (from Witcher 3), but she kinda... deserted? She's not sure how this happend but she got left behind and found herself learning about the world from diffrent perspective. She didn't want to return to the Hunt when they came for her, so she got the title of a deserter.

(She also... doesn't have a name. Whoops, my fault. If somebody have an idea, pls comment if you wanna)

She's cold and hard, comes across as emotionless, but under all that exterior she is very loyal (wich gave her problems with severing the ties with the Wild Hunt) and kind (... in her own way)

❤️reblogs over likes❤️

[gomzdrawfr]

very artist way to cope with hunger: craving something? draw it

[hsslilly-blog]

⭐ Man who hates exposure vs. Woman literally named famous star <3

I thought of this taking place at the 72nd Cannes Film Festival, in 2019. Big week for Claire. She had two films premiering at the festival, won the Best Actress Award for Wild Flowers and got a professional picture with this man. Oscar trail!

[edda-grenade]

mahra has fully reached 'OC i plonk into every setting' status, thus: portraits of her various incarnations!

dnd (dhampir), dragon age (elf rook), that weirdass regency fantasy/horror thing i've got going (human, mostly), bg3 (squid)

(also hi if you like these portraits, i'll be offering commissions in this style very soon :3c)

ko-fi if you wanna throw me a tip

[rakiah]

I gotta know, what would happen if we feed the little meow meows after midnight.

Be sure your door is strongly locked.

(Borrowing @ohhicas ratboy this time)

[itzkawaiiduh]

horror dump part 2 [cw for blood, body horror and sensitive content]

so not all of this is nevermore, but I wanna put down some horror works I've worked on recently! (content warning for a bear with a half human skull in its side. and blood, it's from the movie annihilation)

[vaguely-concerned]

the parallels between morrigan and the mage warden (especially one who snitched on jowan and so isn't automatically doomed if they stay in the circle) both being unceremoniously kicked out by their parental figures from the isolated nests they've been cooped up in all their lives and sent flailing out into the real world to test their wings. the love that you can read in between the lines there from irving, and even flemeth -- in both cases this is a cause of action taken partly to save their children (from the circle, from the blight, from the isolation and constriction they would be doomed to otherwise), and in both cases it also opens them up to a world of new dangers. (I wonder if irving knows how many grey warden recruits die right off the bat. from his general character I think he might take that chance even if he knew because otherwise the circle is all but inescapable, but from what he says to amell/surana at the time and how set duncan is to keep that particular detail on the down low I feel more on the side of him not being aware.)

irving at least is encouraging and explains the outlines of what he's thinking even in his hurry to get you out the door, flemeth takes the opportunity to get in a few more stabs of emotional abuse haha. but I think my amell looks at morrigan's shock and partial dismay to be sent away with them so abruptly (and despite everything, the sting of it being so easy to do on her mother's part, emotionally) and feels a sympathetic sinking in her stomach. because yeah she knows that feeling too

[darksaiyangoku]

RWBY Winter Tales

Ghostly Winds

For @chaoslordjoe

Jaune and Yang smiled as they watched Tristan and Lionel shape their snowmen. While most children would make simple snowpeople with sticks for arms, stones for eyes and a carrot nose, Tristan and Lionel decided to go all out and make snow sculptures. Tristan's was a knight wielding a sword in both hands, while Lionel's was a puppy with a bone in its mouth. Jaune chuckled as he picked up the younger of the two.

Jaune: Seems like we have ourselves two artisans in the making.

Lionel: *chuckles* You know it! I already have a name for this dog right here.

Jaune: Oh? What is it?

Lionel: Gelert! Just like in the story of the Loyal Dog.

Jaune: Awwww, that's really sweet! I'm sure Gelert would appreciate the tribute.

Yang: What about you, little man? Who's this handsome fellow supposed to be?

Tristan: That's me. Some day, I wanna be a great knight! Just like the ones in Vale!

Yang: *nods head* Very nice! Saving kingdoms, swinging swords and riding off in stylish armour.

Tristan: You know it! But if that doesn't work, I can always be like you and Jaune. A Witcher for hire.

Yang: ...you want to be a Witcher?

Tristan: Eh, maybe. But only if I can't be a knight.

Yang: I see... oh... *frowns*

Tristan: Hm? Are you okay?

Yang: ...you know, I think it's about time you went off to bed! *smiles nervously*

Lionel: Aw what?

Tristan: But it's not even dark yet.

Jaune: Boys, listen to your mother. Night falls faster in winter. Come on now, scoot.

Jaune and Yang hurried back inside and tucked in their children to bed. In the living room, Yang cast Igni on the candles and warmed her hands. She had a saddened look on her face.

Jaune: *places blanket over her* Is everything alright? You seem tense.

Yang: *sighs* Of course I'm tense. Tristan wants to be a Witcher.

Jaune: *raises eyebrow* That's what got you worried? Come on, he's a kid. They're always saying silly things like that.

Yang: But what if he's serious about this? Ever since we took him in after his father died, he's always looked up to us. He sees as heroes, even after some of the terrible things we've done.

Jaune: Isn't that a good thing? He doesn't see us as monsters.

Yang: I know, but our life as Witchers isn't what I want for him. It's filled with pain, blood, hatred. *carresses his cheek* We're a family now and I don't want him to face the kind of dangers we did.

Jaune: *holds Yang* He won't, don't worry. Look, I know you love him, Lionel too, but I think you're letting this get to your head a little. Kids change their mind all the time. Remember when Lionel was adamant about hating turnips. One bite of your roast changed that and now he begs for more every day.

Yang: *chuckles* Yeah, you're probably right. I guess I just didn't realise how hard being a mom would be. *turns to Jaune and kisses him* Thank you, sweetheart.

Jaune: Always. Now can I get some of that blanket? It's freezing.

Yang: *laughs and opens the blanket* Get in here.

Jaune sat on Yang's lap as she draped the blanket over both of them. Outside, the snow started fall heavier and the wind picked up. The sound of hooves thundered the ground as a group of knights in jet black armour raced across the landscape. They screeched and howled, their eyes glowing red as hot flames. Any who came into contact with them would never see their old life, their souls now belonging to the riders. Many nations and kingdoms across Remnant feared them, for they were wraiths that brought the omen of war. They were the Wild Hunt... and they were sending a message.

[cupsoupenjoyer003]

[Herbalism]

[thenoeyebunnynobunsusmaingallery]

How I feel when I got Wild Hunt Heatcliff *That's my voice... Yes

[propalitetz]

The Green Knight

[merlot-and-chardonnay]

A Lark Among the Wolves and Dragons: Chapter 61

Masterlist

Chapter 60.5

Aemma had Cirillia keep behind Rhaenys and Meleys as they flew to Dragonstone with haste. 

It was during this time, Aemma felt herself starting to dose off on account that she didn't get much sleep the night before. She turned her gaze sideways, feeling her eyes grow heavy with sleep. As she started to close them, she was almost certain she saw the sky turn red once again.

"Aemma....Aemma....Aemma!" "Ciri?"

Aemma opened her eyes to find herself in the spot she was in her last vision. She looked behind her to see she was behind the Wall once again. "Ciri?" "I'm over here," Ciri speaks, sounding close, making Aemma flinch. "It's okay," Ciri assures, placing a hand on Aemma's shoulder. Aemma sighed in relief. "Ciri, where...what's happening?"

"I think our minds have somehow linked to share this vision," Ciri explains, "at least that's what I hoped has happened." "You hope?" "I've been working on certain techniques with Avallac'h," Ciri explains, "he's an elven sage from-" "I know who he is," Aemma assures, "I've seen him before in previous visions. Is he here now?" "No," Ciri shakes her head, "he's keeping the Wild Hunt distracted as we speak, keeping them from finding me for the time being. I needed to speak with you." "Why?" "What do you remember from your last vision?" Ciri inquires, "and I don't want to rush you, but we don't exactly have much time. Avallac'h told me he won't be able to keep Eredin and the Red Riders at bay for very long." Knowing the seriousness of getting caught by the Wild Hunt, Aemma recalls what she remembered, "I heard Avallac'h telling you to run. We were here in this exact same spot. You were running from the Hunt. And this place..." Ciri looked up to see the Wall behind the both of them, "what is this place?" "This is the Wall of the North," Aemma tells her, "it was built thousands of years ago during the time of the First Men." "It's made completely of ice," Ciri states, "in my experience, walls are usually built to keep something- or somethings- out. What does this wall keep out?"

"Severe Winter weather? Wildlings perhaps..." Aemma shrugs, "I honestly don't know. The Lord of Winterfell might know, his ancestor was the one who built it. But I don't understand, are you saying this hasn't happened yet?" "Perhaps it was built to protect against the White Frost," Ciri mutters. "What was that?" "Noth...nothing."  "You...you haven't made it to the Wall yet?" "No I hadn't...yet....You saw the future," Ciri realized, "how is this possible? I thought you could only see visions of the past."

"I...I don't know," Aemma shakes her head, "I...that was the first time that's ever happened to me." "What exactly were you doing when it happened?" "I...Helaena," Aemma realized, "she can see into the future. She's a Dreamer, like our ancestor Daenys. I've heard her make predictions before and they came true in one way or another. I wonder...if her gift somehow influenced mine." "What exactly did she say?" "...she told me the Wild Hunt was coming," Aemma answered, "that they were approaching from beyond the Wall...and that they were coming after the Swallow. They were coming after you, Ciri."

Ciri was silent on it. Aemma had to wonder on some level if Ciri knew this was going to happen, "the Hunt...they're running after you for a reason, yes?" "It's not me they want, it's the Elder Blood that I possess," Ciri tells her. "What exactly is this Elder Blood?" Aemma asks. Ciri took in a breath before she explained, "I'm...as it turns out my family line is not entirely human." "I don't follow. You mean like, what Ivan is. Are you a half-elf, Ciri?" "Not a half elf," Ciri shakes her head, "But I do have elven blood. I have an ancestor by the name of Lara Dorren. She had a special gift that she passed onto her descendants over the years. The gift was passed over my grandmother, but my mother possessed it...and now I possess it. And it looks like my gift was somehow passed to you." "Tris told me about that," Aemma says, "she believes it happened that day in Kaer Morhen...when my father took my mother and myself away."

"I tried to stop him," Ciri confirms, "but I couldn't control my power when it happened. Tris had to stop me before my gift ended up razing Kaer Morhen to the ground." "The spell backfired and ended up hitting me, which somehow passed your gift to me as well," Aemma nods.

"I lost control of my power back in Loc Muinne," Aemma admits, "I...it's strong. I can see why the Wild Hunt want to wield it so badly. They'd probably do a better job at harnessing it than I could." "If Eredin got hold of the Elder Blood he would do more harm than good," Ciri insists, "it's why I have to keep running. I can't let him catch me."

"Perhaps if I was able to see more of the vision," Aemma insists, "if I could look further into the future..." She looks to Ciri. "What?" "The only reason I was able to see the future once before was because of Helaena and her gift as a Dreamer," Aemma explains, taking Ciri's hand in hers, "you can see into the future...if we both used our power, maybe we can see what is to happen."

"Aemma...we don't have a lot of time left." "All the more reason we should give it a try," Aemma insists, "if what I saw before has not yet happened, then we should know how best to prepare." Ciri still seemed reluctant, but seeing the determined look on Aemma's face, she takes her hands once again, "repeat after me."

Ciri mutters the incantation Avallac'h taught her, Aemma repeating as Ciri spoke.

Both Aemma and Ciri felt as if their souls had left their bodies, feeling light as air. "What's going on?" Aemma somehow manages to asks. Despite this out-of-body experience, it looked like she was walking, strolling past various men in black clothing and armor. "I...I think we're looking into the future again," she hears Ciri says, "Are we on top of the ice Wall?" "I think so," Aemma confirms, "these must be the men of the Night's Watch." "The what?" "They oversee the Wall," Aemma explains, "they keep of movements both North and South of the wall day and night. They're well renown for their bravery and lifelong commitment."

A dragon's roar caught both girls' attention. Aemma looked down the Wall to see a large green dragon close by. "It's Vermax," Aemma says in recognition, "if he's here then that means Jacaerys must be here too." "Who?" "My stepbrother." Right on cue, the scene switched, taking Aemma and Ciri to the bottom of the wall, close to the lift. A tall young man with dark hair approached the lift. He carried a sword, strapped over his broad shoulders, which were covered by a fur pelt cloak. "Is that Jacaerys?" "No, he's way too tall, and he's...he has a larger built," Aemma says. "Shame...he is quite handsome, I'll give him that," Ciri states. "He is..." Aemma agrees, before recognizing the sigil on the man's chest place. "That sigil...it's the direwolf of House Stark. I think this is Cregan Stark, the Lord of Winterfell." "Is he a good man? Can he be trusted?" Ciri questions. "I think so," Aemma confirms, "From what I remember, Cregan became Warden of the North at 13 when his father Rickon passed. His uncle Bernnard had oversaw Winterfell's affairs until Cregan came of age, though Bernnard tried to keep control of that position for just a little while longer. Cregan was quick to put a stop to that, he had his uncle imprisoned for treason. But he lives up to the reputation of honor his House is known for." 

"Is he married?" "He's...he's a widower actually. His wife died in childbirth, but his son survived. If I remember correctly, Cregan named the boy Rickon to honor his late father." 

 "Who is that approaching?" Ciri asks, which Aemma looked to see a younger man run after the young Lord Stark. "That's Jace!" Aemma exclaimed, "so he is here. But why? Did Rhaenyra send him to treat with Lord Stark?"

The scene shifted again, and Aemma and Ciri found themselves on the lift, which was going up to the top of the Wall, with Jace and Cregan. "I can't hear what they're saying," Aemma admits. "You can't?" Ciri sounded surprise. "No...can you?" "Every word." "I guess there's limits to sharing our gifts," Aemma sighs, "fine...what are they saying?"

"I'm not sure if I heard right, but Lord Stark just told your stepbrother that Winter is Coming." "The words of House Stark," Aemma mutters. "Jace is having a hard believing THIS isn't winter," Ciri laughs a little, "Cregan appears to be amused by that disbelief. He only shrugged this off as merely a light summer snow. Apparently, it gets a lot worse than this come ACTUAL winter."

Aemma looked over from the lift, seeing the snow fall, then looked up to see the overcast sky, "I find myself shuddering to think what this place will look like when winter does finally arrive."

The scene shifted once more, and the girls were atop the Wall once more, with Jace and Cregan. "What are they saying now?" Aemma asks, seeing Jace move his lips as he spoke to the young lord, almost as if there was a sense of urgency. "I...I think Jace is pleading with Lord Stark," Ciri answers, "something about upholding the oath that was taken years ago...for Rhaenyra." "She must've found out about the Greens coup by now," Aemma realized, "she must've sent Jace to Winterfell to remind the Lord of Winterfell of the oath that was made when Viserys named Rhaenyra heir to the Iron Throne."  "Greens coup? Aemma what...what are you taking about?"

Before Aemma could answer, she felt the air shift, and she could finally hear the two men speak. "Do you think my ancestors built a 700-foot wall of ice to keep out snow and savages?" Cregan inquires of Jace. "What does it keep out?" Jace asks skeptically. "...Death," was Cregan's answer.

Jace looked out to see what was lying north of the Wall.

The sky suddenly turned red as Aemma followed Jace's gaze, and a portal from the edge of the forest opened, legions of horses and riders and ice monsters coming forth. The leader of the Wild Hunt shouted a command in elven and the army charged at the Wall. Eyes wide, and panic setting in, Aemma ran towards her stepbrother, "Jace!" she calls out, "JACE! Jace get out of there! You and Lord Stark need to get away from the wall! JACE!"

Aemma reached out, but her arm ran past Jace as if she were a ghost. Both Jace and Cregan just kept talking to each other as if they were oblivious to the immediate dangers beyond the wall. "JACE! JACE! JACE!"

"Aemma!" she heard Ciri call out. "Ciri?"

The scene before her became distorted. Aemma felt herself walking backward, until she fell and landed on her bottom. "Jace? Ciri-"

"I want you to put out your eye," she heard another familiar voice speak, "...as payment for mine." "That voice...Aemond?" "One will serve...I will not blind you," she heard Aemond speak again, "plan to make a gift of it to my mother." "Aemond? Aemond, where are you?"

She heard Aemond shout something incoherent, almost as if he were demanding something. She saw the scene clear as she saw Aemond charge at someone, dagger in hand. Aemond stopped in his tracks, seething hatred in his eye. Aemma noticed Aemond's eye patch was missing, revealing his sapphire.  "Aemond, what are you doing?" She looked to where Aemond was fixating his gaze.  She couldn't see, the background was too distorted to make out.

"Ciri!" Aemma calls out, "I can't see what is happening? What is going on? Who is Aemond trying to attack?!"

"Aemma? Aemma!" she hears Ciri call out, "your cousin, he's going to-"

Ciri's voice was cut off. Aemma suddenly heard Vhagar roaring in the distant followed by Aemond shouting, "VHAGAR! NO!"

Aemma heard cracks like breaking glass occur until the vision shattered like a broken mirror. "AEMOND!"

Aemma suddenly found herself back in the same spot she was in at the beginning of this dream sequence. She fought the urge to hyperventilate. She didn't know what to say or what to do. To her relief, Aemma saw Ciri was still here. The link between them had not yet been broken. 

Ciri placed a hand over her mouth, eyes in shock. A stray tear had even slipped out. "Ciri...what happened?" Aemma inquires with worry. "I saw...I saw..." Ciri stutters, more tears slipping out. "Ciri?" "I'm sorry," Ciri quietly sobs, wiping away the tears, "...I'm sorry." "Ciri, I...I saw Aemond in my last vision," Aemma tells her, "I couldn't see anything else but him. Did  you see him?" Ciri shakes her head. "You did see," Aemma realized, "What happened? What was Aemond doing? What was he trying to do?"

Again Ciri was silent. "Ciri," Aemma speaks, "if this was in the future, if it has yet to happen, I need to know, especially if it involves Aemond. Is he about to do something brash? Something that might get him in trouble?" "Even if I told you...I don't know what can be done," Ciri admits, "I could feel his anger...his hatred. He won't stop." "I still need to know," Aemma insists, "tell me, so I can stop him...so I can save him from himself if I have to."

Ciri made a sigh, "alright. Aemond. He was in a castle. I don't know what it was, but there someone else there, and he-"

Before Ciri could continue, a hand was placed over her mouth. Aemma looked to see who it was. "Say no more, Zireael!" Avallac'h scolds her. "What are you doing?" Aemma demands. "I'm sorry, Aemma," Avallac'h says, a regretful look on his face, "but Cirilla has told you too much already."

Ciri pulled Avallac'h's hand away, "she needs to know!" she insists, "She has a right to know! If no one tells her-" "It is best she does not know!" the elf insists back, "The course of this future was already in motion the moment Aemma made her choice to leave King's Landing. We cannot interfere. We cannot undo Destiny, no matter how much we wish it."

"What? What won't you tell me that I can't know?!" Aemma demands. Sensing Ciri was about to speak her mind, Avallac'h shouted incantations, that put Ciri in a deep sleep and pulled her from the vision. "Ciri!" Aemma exclaims. "We have run out of time," Avallac'h tells her, "the Wild Hunt is once again on our trail. You have seen where they plan to appear next, Aemma Silverlark...you know where you must go."

"But what about-"

Avallac'h shouted another incantation, breaking the link between them and ending the vision.

-------------------------------

"Ciri!" Aemma bolts up from the bed she was laying on.

Wait, a bed? Why was she in bed? Last thing she remembered was dosing off while astride Cirillia while following Rhaenys and her dragon to Dragonstone...to warn Rhaenyra of what had just transpired. Alicent and her father organizing a coup to usurp the throne and make Aegon king. Aemma and her grandmother had managed to escape.

"Aemma!" she heard Rhaena exclaim. Aemma looked over to see her sister had been keeping at her bedside, "thank the gods!"  "Rhaena," Aemma says as Rhaena pulls her in for hug, "Rhaena, what happened?" "You and grandmother arrived on Dragonstone on Meleys and Cirillia," Rhaena tells her, "she...she told us what happened. The king he's..." "Viserys is dead," Aemma nods, remembering what happened, "And the queen...she and the Hand they usurped the throne." "Grandmother told us that as well," Rhaena says somberly.

"How did I get here?" Aemma asks. "When the dragons landed, grandmother noticed you hadn't dismounted Cirillia just yet," Rhaena explains, "you...you were sleeping. She tried to wake you, but you wouldn't budge. She had you brought straight to the maesters, who tried to wake you as well, to no avail. They couldn't explain what happened, only that you appeared to have sunk into a deep comatose state."

Aemma remembered the vision she had. "Are Jace and Luke still here?" Aemma asks, "And Baela for that matter?" "Yes?" Rhaena frowns a bit, to which Aemma sighs in relief. "And what about father and Rhaenyra?"

Right on cue, moans of pain reverberated across the castle walls. "Rhaenyra? What's happening to her?" Panic had set in as Aemma feared if Daemon had something to do with the pain her stepmother was clearly in. "She...Rhaenyra went into labor the moment she heard her father had passed," Rhaena informs her sister, sadness befalling her countenance. "But...it's too soon," Aemma says in a hoarse voice, "She can't be going into labor right now." Rhaena shakes her head, clearly assuming the worst as tears left her eyes. "Hey," Aemma tries to assure Rhaena, placing a hand on her sister's cheek, "it won't happen again. We won't lose another mother to the child bed." Rhaena nods, trying to feel confident it won't be like what happened to Laena, but the worst case scenario was lingering in both their minds.

"We better go see what else is happening," Aemma insists, getting out of the bed and running towards the door. "Who's Ciri?" Rhaena asks, stopping Aemma in her tracks. "What?" "That was the name you shouted when you woke up," Rhaena tells her, "it was also the name you were calling out in your sleep as well. Who is Ciri?"

Aemma was about to tell her, but Rhaenyra's painful moans stopped her from answering. "I'll tell you later," she assures, taking Rhaena by the arm and leading her out, "Rhaena...there's also something else I need to tell you. But no one else can know for the time being." "What is it?"

"My mother, the Lady of Larks...she's alive."

"What?! But how?" "I'll explain that later as well," Aemma assured, "I need you to know now, because everything our father had ever said about his relationship to her was a lie."

"...that explains his behavior the night we left King's Landing," Rhaena says with realization.

"You all left me behind in King's Landing," Aemma states, remembering the morning after she left from Aemond's chambers. "It was father's idea," Rhaena informs, "he said it was best you stayed behind. That...he looked uncomfortable that night after dinner. I saw the way he was looking at you during the dinner. He tried to hide it, the discomfort but he wasn't very good at it." "It was the dress," Aemma says, "it belonged to my mother, she gave it to me before I left. He recognized where it came from. And he saw my...my necklace? What happened to it?"

Rhaena pulled the silver medallion from her sleeve and gave it to Aemma, "father tried to take it away when you were asleep," she says, "I told him I would dispose of it, but I lied. He had this agitated look on his face when he saw it hanging from your neck, I figured there was a reason for that."

"I'm grateful you kept it from him," Aemma smiles, putting the medallion back on.

The two sisters run into Jace, who looked like he was in a hurry to be somewhere. "Aemma, you're awake!" he exclaims. "I am," Aemma nods, "what's going on?" "Mother informed Luke and myself what has happened," Jace tells her, "she fears Daemon has run off to start a war, we need to stop him."

"Jace, wait!" Aemma calls to the prince, but Jace ignored her and ran off to the council room. Aemma sighed, wondering if she even should've said anything if Jace actually listened, if he would believe her if she told him about her vision.

Aemma and Rhaena catch up with Jace. In the council chamber, Daemon was indeed directing orders to prepare for an upcoming war and to send messages to the Great Houses to remind them of the oath they swore to recognize Rhaenyra as Viserys' true heir. Aemma stood back, not wanting to be seen by her father just yet.

"I will fly to the Riverlands myself and affirm Lord Tully's support," Daemon announces. "You will do no such thing," Jace firmly speaks as he approached the council. All eyes were now on the Prince of Dragonstone and Rhaenyra's heir. Jace falter for a split second before he regained his composure and spoke with authority, "My mother has decreed that no action is to be taken while she's abed." 

Daemon gave Jace a certain look...a potentially dangerous look. "Good you're here, young prince," Daemon says with slight condescension, "You're needed to patrol the skies on Vermax." "Did you hear what I said?" Jace challenged. "You would do well to listen to him" Aemma steps in, all eyes now on the princess, including Daemon. "Aemma, you are awake," the Rogue prince said with a restrained tone, "good...we will need Cirillia to patrol the skies as well." "The Queen has decreed no action is to be taken, father," Aemma states with a stern tone, approaching her father with a look of contempt, "maybe instead of undermining her authority you would do well to listen, or better yet be at her side while she labors to bring in your next child, if that's not too much to ask."

Daemon kept his composure, not letting it known that the dragon inside him was slowly waking. There was a reason he had the Blacks leave Aemma behind when they departed for King's Landing initially. Daemon had suspected that Aemma knew the secrets he had kept hidden from her for the last sixteen years. The look on her face said it all. In some way it almost made Daemon fearful that the Lady of Larks somehow survived that cursed pogrom, which he had initially seen as a blessing as any secrets his Little Lark had kept to herself would've been forgotten.

But now it seemed that was not the case. "Very well," Daemon says with a dangerous tone, giving directions to the lords to send the ravens. He then turned to Aemma and to Jace, "Come with me, I'll show you both the true meaning of loyalty."

Jace followed, but Aemma stopped in her tracks, which Daemon noticed immediately. "Did YOU not hear me, my daughter?" "I heard..." Aemma says in a low tone, "I'm not going anywhere with you. Not until you admit it." Daemon looked to the lords in the council chamber, and then to Jace and over to Rhaena. "Leave us," the king consort said in a low tone to which the lords wisely heeded. Jace had a look of concern on his face. "Go, Prince Jacaerys," Daemon says to Jace, not taking his gaze off Aemma, "take Rhaena with you." "Father, what are you going to do?" Rhaena questions with concern. "Something I've should've done a long time ago," was all Daemon said.

Jace quickly escorts Rhaena out of the council room.

"Aemma," Daemon begins, tone still as low and dangerous as ever, "whatever you think it is I have done-" "What is it you have done?" Aemma challenges. Daemon was silent, turning his gaze away. "I know what happened," Aemma continues, "I know what you did to mother. I know I was not born on Dragonstone. I was born in Kaer Morhen, the keep of the witchers. I know mother fled King's Landing, she didn't love you, she was trying to get away from you. I know you forced her back when you found out about us. I know you forced her to marry you, become your second wife. I know you practically imprisoned her on Dragonstone against her will, I know you snatched me away from her when she tried to escape, and I KNOW OF THE NUMEROUS TIMES YOUR FORCED YOURSELF ON HER!"

"...Well AREN'T YOU EVEN GOING TO SAY ANYTHING?!" Aemma exasperates, unable to handle Daemon's silence, "are you even going to deny it? Lie to me like you have for the last 16 years?! Can't you even look me in the eye and even tell me it was all a lie?!"

"...so it's true then," Daemon says, "the Lady of Larks is alive." "You knew?" "Not at first...not until now," Daemon admits, "I knew the moment I saw you wearing her dress...She told you everything..." "Yes, she told me everything," Aemma almost sneers, like it was obvious, "she told me so much more then you would have ever told me."

"I loved your mother," Daemon mutters. "YOU DID NOT FUCKING LOVER HER!" Aemma screams, "A man who loves a woman would have NEVER done the things you did to her! You wouldn't have kept her from leaving if she wanted, you never WOULD HAVE TAKEN HER ONLY CHILD AWAY FROM HER!"

"YOU ARE THE BLOOD OF THE DRAGON, AEMMA!" Daemon shouts back, "MY BLOOD! Your mother did not understand that THIS is your heritage, not some fucking ruins in the middle of some mountains nobody even knows about!" he gestures to the whole of Dragonstone, "if the Lady of Larks had it her way, she would've deprived you of all this! She would have deprived you of sleeping with a dragon's egg in your cradle. Were it not for me, you would not have Cirillia as your dragon." "Don't you dare bring Cirillia into this!" Aemma shoves her father back, "don't you fucking dare. Everything you have given me at the expense of depriving me of my own mother! And you expect me to be grateful for that?!"

"Was your life so unbearable?" Daemon points out, "did I not give you a mother? Two mothers, had you bothered to stay. Did I not give you brothers and sisters? Had you remained in that...shit hole with those mutant cutthroats, you would never have known them." "Those cutthroats are called witchers," Aemma states, tapping her medallion for emphasis, "they were living peacefully, they allowed mother to live peacefully with them before you ruined it all."

"Is that what HE told you?" Daemon scoffs, "the White Wolf?" "His name is Geralt of Rivia." "I take it he was the one who gave you THAT disgusting trinket, the one I thought I told your sister to dispose of," Daemon points at the medallion, "did he tell you what happened? He wasn't there half the time. That freak is hardly a saint in your mother's story. Only reason he ever came for her was because he was obsessed with her. Her and you for that matter, and if you stayed him and his ilk would have turned you into one of them. Seems like he tried to do that already. I wager that sterile bastard had it enchanted to put you under his influence. Perhaps it was used to make it seem like your mother survived and told you what he wanted you to hear."

"You can't stop lying, can you? Can't stop making excuses," Aemma scoffs in disbelief, "of course you can't...that's who you are." "Take off that cursed necklace, Aemma," Daemon demands. "I will not." "Take it off. Now!" "NO!"

Daemon came after Aemma, who jumped back, punching Daemon in the jaw. Aemma ran off, but Daemon caught her, shoving her against the wall, and yanking the medallion off her. "Give me back my medallion!" Aemma demands, running after Daemon, "Vesemir gave me that, he made it just for me!"

"He should've been burned for engraving our sigil into this thing," Daemons says with disgust, "tainting the Targaryen symbol with this black magic." Daemon takes one quick look at the medallion before he tosses it out the window before Aemma could grab it from him.

Aemma stood at the window, mouth agape to see the tears falling as she could not see where the witcher medallion landed. "There now, dear daughter," Daemon says with an assured tone, "you are free of the witcher's influence. He will torment you no longer."

Daemon goes to pat Aemma on the head like he used to, but Aemma shoved him away, "YOU MONSTER!" She punches at her father, but Daemon stops her, restrains her as he allows her to take her frustration out. "You fucking monster!" She screams, voice hoarse, "you're a monster! Not even all the silver in this world could stop you! You monster!"

Aemma had exhausted herself to the point where she was a shivering sobbing mess in her father's arms, who held her, partly to comfort her, partly to keep her from attacking him again.

Rhaenyra's screams from her labor pains soon overrode the sounds of Aemma's tearful hiccups. "The king is dead," Daemon says in a serious tone, "that cunt of a Hand and his bitch daughter have usurped your true queen's throne. You need to decide now, Byka zaldrīzes, where your loyalties lie. Will you take their side? Or will you put aside your grievances and support the true ruler of the Seven Kingdoms?"

Daemon sets Aemma down on the floor to let her continue crying it out before he walked away. Aemma was not about to let her father have the last word.

"Father!" she calls out, still hiccuping in spite of her dried tears, causing Daemon to stop in his tracks, "I thought you should know...I fucked Aemond...How’s that for living up to my Targaryen expectations?"

Saying nothing, keeping himself from bristling from that statement in anger, Daemon walked out of the castle towards the beach.

Chapter 62

[ray-elgatodormido]

Just want to put this here and admit that I am having way too much fun testing every grab attack on Lü Bu in Empires 7. He and his bones aren’t doing too good though.

Really enjoying Gan Ning’s flail, the nunchucks are fun too, Ling Tong’s shoulder twister is iconic, loving Guan Suo’s multi slap face kicks, Deng Ai’s Bonecracker musou is the best I love it and how can I forget Huang Gai and Wang Yi’s grabs.

A moment of silence for Lü Bu’s fractured bones

[alanide-arts]

MHW sketchdump feat. some friends' OCs

(Tyrann becomes an Ecologist at some point!)

[chadhunkler]

Wild Hunt Chad

"The dawn of the promised banquet, the day of the hunt rises. I can feel it even at the tip of my hair... that the destruction of Dan's Barbecue is nigh."

[ebraheem--abd]

‼️ Don't scroll ebraheem 😢🍉🙏

I know I lost this war

Everything (my home , my university, my future .my healty and well-being,and my friends)

But I earned your love, support and hlep you are the only beautiful thing now

Please don't leave me alone

And donate at my link

Remember you are saving a whole family 😭🙏

https://gofund.me/070a766c