#wyvern bond

[joncronshawauthor]

Announcing: Wyvern Rider (A story in the Ravenglass Universe)

Good news, everyone! I am thrilled to announce that my new serialised story, “Wyvern Rider”, will be releasing weekly chapters every Saturday at 2pm UK time, starting May 25, exclusively in my Ream community. Set in the Ravenglass Universe, “Wyvern Rider” follows the journey of Irina, a young village girl who forms a profound bond with an injured wyvern hatchling named Nim. Under the guidance…

[pergaminaa]

I find it really funny how in Heir of Fire Manon was referred to as ‘ice’ and it just happens that Dorian’s magic is ice

THESE TWO ARE MEANT FOR EACH OTHER

[tovaicas]

↳ ꜰꜰxɪᴠ — ᴅᴇᴛᴀɪʟꜱ + ᴅʀᴀʜᴍ ᴋᴏʜʀ

ᴅʀᴀʜᴍ ᴋᴏʜʀ (ꜱɪʟᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴇᴄʜᴏ) ɪꜱ ᴀ ᴅʀᴀᴠᴀɴɪᴀɴ ᴡʏᴠᴇʀɴ ᴏꜰ ɴɪᴅʜᴏɢɢ'ꜱ ʙʀᴏᴏᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀᴍᴇʀ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅʀᴀᴠᴀɴɪᴀɴ ʜᴏʀᴅᴇ, ꜱᴘɪʀɪᴛᴜᴀʟʟʏ ʙᴏɴᴅᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʀɪᴅᴇʀ ʀᴏᴜᴠᴀꜱᴛʀᴇ ᴅᴇ ʟᴇᴜᴠᴇᴄʜɪᴇʀ ꜰᴏʟʟᴏᴡɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅʀᴀɢᴏɴꜱᴏɴɢ ᴡᴀʀ. ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴜᴄᴄᴇꜱꜱᴏʀ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴏᴜʟ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴜɴᴡɪʟʟɪɴɢʟʏ ꜱᴜʙᴊᴜɢᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴅʀᴀɢᴏɴ ᴏꜱᴋʜ ꜱᴛʀᴀʜ, ꜱʜᴇ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪʟʟɪɴɢ ꜱᴏᴜʀᴄᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴅʀᴀɢᴏᴏɴ ᴀʙɪʟɪᴇꜱ ꜰᴏʟʟᴏᴡɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴇᴘꜱ ᴏꜰ ꜰᴀɪᴛʜ. ꜱʜᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ɪɴᴛᴇɢʀᴀʟ ᴀꜱ ᴀɪʀ ꜱᴜᴘᴘᴏʀᴛ ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀᴛᴛʟᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴅᴏᴍᴀ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇꜰᴇᴀᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀɪᴍᴀʟ ꜱʜɪɴʀʏᴜ ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀᴛᴛʟᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀʟᴀ ᴍʜɪɢᴏ, ꜱᴜᴘᴘᴏʀᴛ ᴀɢᴀɪɴꜱᴛ ɪᴍᴘᴇʀɪᴀʟ ꜰᴏʀᴄᴇꜱ ᴀꜱ ᴡᴇʟʟ ᴀꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇꜱᴄᴜᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴀɢᴇɴᴛꜱ ʜɪᴇɴ ʀɪᴊɪɴ ᴀɴᴅ ʟʏꜱᴇ ʜᴇxᴛ ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ʙᴀᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ɢʜɪᴍʟʏᴛ ᴅᴀʀᴋ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇꜰᴇᴀᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀɪᴍᴀʟ ʟᴜɴᴀʀ ʙᴀʜᴀᴍᴜᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴇᴍᴘᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴛᴇʟᴏᴘʜᴇʀᴏɪ ꜰᴏʀᴄᴇꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇʟᴘ ᴏꜰ ᴛɪᴀᴍᴀᴛ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀꜱꜱᴀᴜʟᴛ ᴏɴ ᴢᴏʟᴍ'ᴀᴋ, ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴡɪꜰᴛ ᴅɪꜱᴛʀɪʙᴜᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴜᴘᴘʟɪᴇꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀᴇʀɪᴀʟ ʀᴇᴄᴏɴɴᴀɪꜱꜱᴀɴᴄᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇᴏʀᴢᴇᴀɴ ᴀʟʟɪᴀɴᴄᴇ ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴀʀʟᴇᴍᴀʟᴅ ᴏꜰꜰᴇɴꜱɪᴠᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴡɪꜰᴛʟʏ ᴛʀᴀɴꜱᴘᴏʀᴛɪɴɢ ᴇꜱᴛɪɴɪᴇɴ ᴠᴀʀʟɪɴᴇᴀᴜ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ᴀʟᴅᴇɴᴀʀᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ɢᴀʀʟᴇᴍᴀʟᴅ ʙʏ ᴀɪʀ ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ɪɴꜰɪʟᴛʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ɢᴀʀʟᴇᴍᴀʟᴅ. ꜰᴏʟʟᴏᴡɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇᴠᴇɴᴛꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴜʟᴛɪᴍᴀ ᴛʜᴜʟᴇ, ꜱʜᴇ ʜᴀꜱ ᴍᴇᴛᴀᴍᴏʀᴘʜᴏꜱᴇᴅ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀɴ ᴀʟᴛᴇʀᴇᴅ ꜰᴏʀᴍ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴ ᴇʟᴅᴇʀ ᴡʏᴠᴇʀɴ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪꜱ ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴀᴅᴀᴘᴛᴇᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴀɴᴇᴜᴠᴇʀᴀʙɪʟɪᴛʏ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀɪʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛᴀʙʟʏ ᴄᴀʀʀʏ ᴀ ʀɪᴅᴇʀ ᴜᴘᴏɴ ʜᴇʀ ʙᴀᴄᴋ.

[maletitties]

lonqu and cherche are gym buds

[aro-laurance-zvahl]

What are your ideas on the Wyverns?

I had this, though, that when a wyvern dies, their skeleton is left in place, and because they are connected to Irene in a way, moss and colourful flowers grow around them.

Oh that is a very pretty thing to picture!!

I actually like the thought of making Wyverns more of an Esmund thing! Mostly because I thought it was a shame Garroth was never really able to talk to Raven, and also the Golden Vibes which are always very Esmund, and I like the idea of the wyvern dimension actually being Esmund’s realm.

Ive also been playing around with the idea of there being a Ro’Meave heirloom (or maybe an heirloom from Zianna’s side of the family as I’ve also been playing with which side the blood should come from) that’s essentially a dog whistle but for Wyverns. Legend says it was once worn around the neck of Esmund the Protector, and he would only ever use it in times of great need to call upon the Wyverns aid, an asset only he had but never abused. Some say that’s why the Wyverns ignore it now, because they have been greatly disrespected by humanity in his absence and so they refuse to respect the gift they provided. Others opt for the more simple answer, that it only works when it’s in Esmund’s hands.

But of course that’s only a legend, and that object of legend is one of the few things Garroth has from home.

[whereserpentswalk]

Reblog to receive your transformation. Look under the cut to see how your choice goes.

Lycanthrope: You can feel your bones shifting, your soul becoming forever fluid. As the moonlight shines on you you realize you can shift, as easily as you could go from sitting to standing. You can feel your hands turn into paws, your mouth become long, your entire body feel so warm and comfy under a pelt of fur. And you can run, through the forests and streets, and you can see and hear and smell like you never had before. And then you can go back, or remain in-between. Yet even in human form it's always with you, like your other form can always be in there waiting, waiting to be let out. You look in the mirror and it's not just you, your human face is just one part of a larger whole now.

Angels blood: it feels painful at first. You cough up what you think it blood but it looks like static. Your eyes start to glow but then wings come out from the back of your head to cover them forever. More wings sprout from your back, they feel nice, strange to move, strange to have new joints and bones and muscles, yet so soft and delicate and sensitive. Your body slowly shifts, as you become slender yet muscular, and you become completely androgynous, your sex organs fall away and any holes to expell waste close up. You feel comfortable all the time, you don't need to eat or sleep, and can't feel pain or tired, you're so strong now, yet so delicate.

Cyborg: You feel yourself being cut open. They decided to take away your sensation of pain instead of making you unconscious, so you feel everything it's just not painful at all. You can feel them cut through bone, dismembering you peice by peice, limbs and organs being gone forever, the strange sensation of body parts suddenly going dark. And then it comes back, peice by peice you get put back together. And your new parts all feel so strange, cold hard metal and plastic, they all move and feel differently then what you're used to, but they all feel so right. When you finally get up everything is diffrent, and when you see yourself in the mirror you realize there's no going back, you'll never be human again, you're as much a machine as a person, yet you're yourself, you're even more yourself then before.

Vampire: When you were first bitten it didn't feel like much, the transformation was slow. You became more androgynous every day. Your skin lost its color until it was entirely grayscale. You lost weight, you couldn't eat, at first you got compliments from weird people but soon you just looked sick, as you could see bones through your skin. Eventually you basically went through puberty in reverse, until you were sexless, and your genitals shunk until there was nothing left. You hadn't eaten in so long, but food seemed gross to you. Soon your mouth began to shift, seeming wounded at first, and then healing, it looked human when closed save for a few lines around your cheeks and jaw, but when you opened it all the way it was a massive complex maw with many jaws and countless sharp fangs, taking up half your face when fully open. After not eating for so long you finally take a sip of blood, from a freind willing to let you try, your veins light up red for a few moments and you feel so good, it's like a mix between the best food in your mortal life, and the joys of an orgasm, and you feel satisfied like you never had before.

Fae: You slowly let the strange tall woman pet your head and you know you're hers. She giggles as she takes out an eye in her hand and puts it back in bloodlessly. She waves her hand over your arm as it turns to living plant mater, and then she tilts her head to see if it fits and turns it back. She smiles, knowing what she'll do. Slowly she starts work, taking away parts and putting back new ones like you're a building toy. You look and see as she tries new limbs, new faces, everything she can think of, your human form being nothing more then a base she can customize. As she painlessly pulls out your teeth and puts gems in their place, and takes off layers of skin to make way for a new exoskeleton, she compliments you and tells you how good you are, and she gives you a kiss on the forehead right before she glues new wings to your back.

Doll: you can see your old self laying there dead, as you look at your new ageless hands. You can't pass for human like this but it doesn't matter, you have visible joins, and a flat unmoving face. It's weird moving without any soft skin. But you look in the mirror and you're so cute, they gave you such a pretty face, and started you off in a cute little suit to wear, with a rose it it's pocket and flowers in your artificial hair. You take a bit to figure out how to walk with your new legs, and everyone who looks at you thinks you're so pretty, not even as a person but as a peice of art, as something human hands made.

Mermaid: You feel yourself deep in the sea. But you aren't drowning. The water goes from blue to black but your eyes can see down here, and your body can live with the pressure. You can see around you as a city below the sea looms above and below you. Your body parts light up to accommodate the shadows, as do the creatures around you. As you start to swim your legs fuse together, and soon there are no legs, no feet, just a long serpentine tail, your body becoming cold and scaled from the chest down. You feel like you're wearing something cold restricting your movements but there's nothing on you. You can breath yet your mouth and nose take in no air. You'll never live with the humans again. Is this home. This is home?

Wyvern: You let the massive scaled creature bow to you and you touch its head. And suddenly you are one. It's like a link is formed and you can't tell where you and and it begins, your instincts, your thoughts, are the same. You can still feel and move your own body but likewise you can do the exact same for it. You can feel what it's like to move with the creature's weight yet elegance, with its sleek slender form, to move its powerful sharp toothed jaws and its delicate yet powerful wings. There's fire within this new body, and when you so wish you can breath it in and out. And it's all so natrual. You can see through both eyes, and you notice it's eyes have your color now, and a human shape, while yourse have its yellow green, and it's slit pupils now. You feel a need to fly that you know will soon be satisfied. You aren't one begin anymore, you aren't just yourself, you are mount and rider, and you feel your other body's wings spread as easily as you'd spread your arms.

Slime: it happens slowly, all of your body going away. First parts just feel soft, then soft enough to poke into, then it's just pink goo that you can move around as much as you'd like. The Flesh transforms but you just have to digest your own bones. The last parts to go are on your head, your teeth melting away as the last remnant of your humanity. Then you can move everything, it's unnatural feeling at first, you don't have individual body parts, just one shapeless mass that can be whatever you want, at one momment you'll be a human shaped thing, but the next you can be a shapeless blob, or anything else. Every part of you can see, and hear, and taste, and eat. You feel so fluid, so free, you are constrained now by nothing.

Living clothing: You let it wrap around you. It's fluid at first, wrapping around you. You can feel it bond to your skin, become as much a part of you as any other layer of flesh. It transforms, it can be any article of clothing, any outfit, all small or as large as long as there's something still on you. And you can feel it, whatever it is you can sense through it, it feels cold and wet in a refreshing way, and when it's something all around you it like a part of you is able to hug and hold yourself. But it's not you, it starts to whisper, and you realize you'll never be alone again.

Spirit: you are nothing. You can feel nothing. Your body is gone, truly gone, yet you can see, you are somewhere. And at just a thought you can be anywhere else you want to be, and look however you want. You can't touch. There is no more touch but you can lift with your mind what you desire. And you can see souls, see thoughts, see the mindscape that humans never can. Yet you're never to feel again. That is unless you possess someone, those bodies do look so possesable, to see what they see and feel what they feel. Mabye you can't just grab someone, but a living host...

Demon: the pact is sealed and your soul is forever gone. You don't feel diffrent, you're still you, but you can see souls, see the people around you have them, and they look so sweet, taste so good. Your true form sets in, as first you look like your ideal self, but then you begin to mutate. Raven's wings come from your back and horns grow from your head. Your eyes redden and teeth sharpen, and your hair becomes replaced with snakes, as a single snake replaces your sex organs. A Scorpion's tail comes out from your spine, and your feet turn into hardened hoves. You feel your new body parts and they feel so good, so natrual, they feel like this is what you were always meant to look like. You can turn back but it'll just be an illusion, this is your body now. Your wings and tail feel so good to move, like they were always meant to be there, like you were missing something without them, and as your snake hair rises it feels so nice, so powerful.

[corvus-frugilegus]

The real tragedy of the Dellamortes is how inevitable Illario's betrayal was.

Caterina's refusal to really see either of her grandsons for who they are sets all three of them on this path. Lucanis's mother was Caterina's favourite, she was probably the person Caterina had in mind to succeed her. That loss, the loss of so much of Caterina's legacy had to have been devastating. She'd built so much and it was all torn away in a single conflict. All she has left in the wake of it is two young boys and this tenacity that will not allow her to give up on what she's built.

So she puts it all on Lucanis. The son of her favourite (bonus angst if he looks like his mother). She's unable to see this sweet boy who loves wyverns and just had his life ripped apart for who he is. She just see's her legacy. The daughter she lost. She puts it all into him, he's pushed into the role of favourite.

Lucanis responds to this by shoving down the parts of himself she doesn't want to see- his gentle heart, his love of wyverns, the little boy who needs to be loved. If he's good enough, strong enough, the perfect crow, the perfect granson- then and only then will she love him, will he be safe.

And then you have Illario! There isn't as much to go on in the text about his family or what he was like as a boy but there's a few things we can pretty confidently infer. Like Lucanis, Illario violently loses everything he has at a very young age. All he has left are the other two Dellamorte's.

But he isn't the child of Caterina's favourite. She isn't automatically putting all of her legacy on his shoulders the way she does Lucanis. He still gets the training, and what we do see in the wigmaker job and the wake and even in the codex entires in the game is that Illario does become a comptent and capable crow. He has a level of skill that I suspect is broadly expected of house Dellamorte, he was trained by the first talon herself. But the Illario we meet as an adult has this laissez-faire affect and presents himself as a seducer and a bit of a peakcock. He also very overtly refers to himself as Dellamorte-the-lesser and at the end of the wigmaker job when they're discussing the title of first talon you can feel the resentment below the surface.

For Illario it's not about the power and the prestige that comes from the title of first talon. It's not even about having the title itself. It's about FINALLY earning Caterina's love and respect. Things he undoubtly never felt as a boy.

How could he? When he's a child the only two people he has left in the world have this special bond that he never gets to be a part of. His only caretaker has a clear favourite and she shows it. He's lived his whole life in Lucanis's shadow, and a shadow that Lucanis never wanted to cast! Which if anything just adds insult to injury for Illario.

Lucanis has everything Illario wants and he doesn't even want it.

I imagine as a boy Illario tries SO HARD to win her love, her favour, he'll do anything to feel like he's loved and wanted and valued. And when after YEARS it doesn't work even though Lucanis clearly doesn't want the role he's been forced into? Illario gets resentful, he gets angry, he starts acting up. He becomes the suave peacock, the grandson who fucks up sometimes- probably not because he's bad at being a crow but because at least Caterina's ire is attention. It's a scrap of love.

Illario and Lucanis love each other. They're brothers. Illario resents Lucanis for being loved and favoured. Lucanis wants nothing more than to give it all to Illario. Illario doesn't want that he wants Caterina to love him on his own merit. At the same time (pre-inner demons) Lucanis will never actually give the title up because it means he's loved, he's valued, he matters.

The title of first talon has been synonymous with emotional safety and love for these two for their entire lives, and it's twisted them up so badly.

The real irony of it all is that this whole time Illario is so much more like the person Caterina wants Lucanis to be. Her heir, the Dellamorte best suited to be the next first talon has been right there infront of her all along, but she's so caught up in grief and legacy she misses it. She never really see's either of her grandsons for who they are.

I actually suspect that when it all comes to light, even though she's furious with him, Caterina finally starts to see what she's been overlooking in Illario all along. And Lucanis who's started to heal... well I think she's starting to see him too, and the truth of who he is is something she'll struggle to face.

When the day finally comes that Lucanis tells her he doesn't want the job, when him and Illario both accept that their lives have meaning outside of Caterina's opinion of them, is the day that the Dellamorte's can maybe start to really see each other.

[clockys-soul]

Some Dragons!

Tempest: Tempest is a male Windreaper Wyvern bonded to Nova Fulgur, he is curious and hotheaded, though not necessarily reckless. He and his rider are part of the Rebellion.

Cassiopeia: a female Night/Snowreaper Wyvern bonded to a Aionios Mercenary named Auriga Blanche, they are part of the 3rd Wyvern Squadron and fight alongside the Aionios troops and Fulgur family. (Both Cassi and Auriga belong to @vincedmeat )

Thunderbolt: a female Thunderreaper Wyvern bonded to Aesir Fulgur, just like her rider she is harsh and unforgiving, especially on the battlefield. She and her rider are responsible for a lot of death and destruction.

Frostbite: a male Frost/Snow/Night/Bloodreaper Wyvern bonded to Aurore Duratus, he is the offspring of Aurore's parents dragons. Frostbite is considered to be among the most beautiful dragons ever seen by Dragon Scholars, no doubt thanks to his special heritage.

Skullcrusher: a female Magmareaper Wyvern, bonded to a man simply known as the Brute, she is feared and possibly the most dangerous and largest of the Aionios mercenary dragons. She has a severely scarred and injured lower jaw which was corrected with Dragonsteel, she’s a veteran and has killed many other dragons. Both are part of of Squadron 1.

Weepingsnow: a male Snowreaper Wyvern, hatched wild but later bonded to Skadi Duratus, named for his markings he is rather gentle, which common for his breed, and always hovering around his peculiar rider, however he is not to be underestimated.

Quickstrike: is a male Dune/Flashreaper Wyvern, bonded to another Ainoios mercenary named Lazuli, unlike most others, Lazuli has no real desire to fight this war, yet knows not what else to do and fears what may happen if she refuses. Quickstrike is often curled around his somber rider.

Nightshade: is a male Grovereaper bonded to a Forest elf Sentinel named Jade, he has rare markings and is a very proud dragon, often holding his head high and affectionately nipping at his riders arms.

Inferno: a male, Flameborn, Flame/Emberreaper bonded to Pyrrha Ardor, who is also a Flameborn. He is temperamental and stubborn, not unlike his rider, though he acts the ability to use sarcasm like she does. When angered enough his scales will shimmer blue and his fire too will turn a brilliant blue.

Veilwatcher: a male Ghost/Emberreaper, bonded to another Aionios merc named Vendetta, just like his rider, Veil is unpredictable and remorseless, snapping at allies too, though never even hissing at Vendetta, kindred spirits these 2 are, though he is much more mentally stable than his traumatized rider.

Geyser: a male Sea/Emberreaper, bonded to, again, a Aionios merc, Llyr is his beloved rider, often tugging her into water to play, Geyser is generally Curious and playful but mostly only towards Llyr.

Snowfall: a young female Snow/Frost/night/Bloodreaper Wyvern bonded to Aurore Duratus's younger brother, Aquilo Duratus, she is just about big enough to be ridden and both her and her young rider are mostly kept out of the conflict. She is curious and very friendly.

Sunbringer: a male, Sunborn, Lightreaper Wyvern, bonded to a Sunborn girl named Elaine Solar, both are beloved by their people of the Temple of Solis. Sunny is protective and intelligent like his rider.

Seastrike: a male Sea/Flashreaper bonded to a human/elf named Lepidolite, Seastrike's appearance is akin to that of an electric eel. ( Both also belong to My friend @vincedmeat )

Whiteout: a male Icereaper Wyvern, bonded to Gwendolyn Duratus, he is docile as long as Gwen is near, otherwise he becomes rather agitated. Their bond is said to be among the strongest, Gwen not even needing to utter commands for her dragon to act. His favored food is Sabertooth Salmon and he will pester Gwen until she takes him to the lake to catch some.

Eclipse: a female Light/Nighreaper, bonded to yet again, a Aionios Merc, Aurelius is a very competent fighter and rider, he is intelligent, snarky and passionate and yet very honorable. Eclipse is an elegant dragon and among the most beautiful, she is loyal and fierce.

Skyfall: a male Flashreaper, bonded to a member of the rebellion, Valkyrie Fulgur, Skyfall is clever and aggressive, incredibly snuggly when interacting with his rider though, he is Val's greatest comfort.

Silvermoon: a female, Moonborn, Nightreaper bonded to Moonborn Jericho Lunar, she is quick, clever and proud. Her rider is her priority and favorite thing in the world. The people of their temple deem her the most magnificent dragon in the world. Though it seems she has caught the eye of the beautiful Sunbringer.

Goldwing: a male Firereaper Wyvern bonded to Themis Ardor, Goldwing is clever and highly focused on Themis at all times, both he and his rider are younger twins. He is considered the Ardor's most beautiful dragon, many watch him fly just to see his wings catch the sunlight. Other than Themis's next of kin, he dislikes men to a degree of growling and snapping at them.

The Sea Ghost: a Wild, elder female Seareaper Wyvern, she is often spotted flying or napping near the south eastern part of the kingdom of Aura, she is docile and friendly, even letting children come up to pet her and feed her her favorite snack, mackerel. She is old, nearly a century old she was named for her pale scales.

Nightfang: a male Night/Bloodreaper Wyvern, bonded to a former Aionios merc, Jean Duratus is the spous of Boreas Duratus, together they had Aurore and Aquilo. Nightfang is very fond of Jeans children, and himself has fathered their dragons. He is quick and nimble yet a fierce fighter and very protective.

[joncronshawauthor]

Ravenglass Revelations: Behind the Scenes of My Magic System

Today, I want to pull back the curtain and give you an exclusive peek into the heart of the Ravenglass Universe – its magic system. As the architect of this world, I’ve always believed that a well-crafted magic system is the lifeblood of any great fantasy realm. So, let’s explore the forces that shape this universe. The Cornerstone: Ravenglass At the core of our magical world lies ravenglass,…

[thedovesaredying]

Fire Meet Flesh | Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader | Dragon AU | Part 1

(GoT Screenshot)

Ghost is the last remaining dragon. He, alongside his human rider, Johnny, patrol their kingdom's border and protect its people from those who would do them harm. Just the threat of a fully grown dragon is enough to deter enemy kingdoms from striking, but this leaves Ghost rather lonely. That is until he discovers you.

He's determined to win you over, but even with no competition, can a dragon who has no idea what he's doing earn your heart?

A/N: Fun little AU fic where Ghost and Reader are both dragons! Body-wise the dragons are more like wyverns, with a set of wings and one pair of legs.

Words: 1,430

Warnings: Unedited.

Masterlist: CoD Masterlist

Next

“The hell has gotten into you, Ghost?” Soap groans for the umpteenth time that morning, yanking on the reigns attached to the dragon’s chest only to sigh in exasperation when Ghost simply continues on regardless. Nothing the Scotsman can say will sway the dragon from the task at hand, they’re on a mission of the greatest importance, even if Soap doesn’t know it yet.  

At another round of expletives from the brunette, Ghost shakes his head with a snarl, refusing all attempts at getting him to turn around. They’re deeper into the mountain woodland than they’ve ever travelled before, completely uncharted territory. While most dragons are trained from a mere few days of age to obey their riders, Ghost never had such an education, the only remaining member of the now extinct wild dragons.  

He was captured as a fledgling and locked away as part of the spoils of war. While the rest of his species were slaughtered, and the handful of domestic dragons battled against one another, Ghost was left to rot in a dungeon far too small to contain his rapidly growing body. Brothers turned on brothers, sisters on sisters, and parents were made to kill their own hatchlings in the name of their human kings. His once golden scales faded to a sickly white after years of living in darkness, and his throat, snout and legs were permanently scarred from the chaffing of iron chains. Humans had done nothing but bring pain and suffering to him and his fellow dragons, used their loyalty to their riders against them to bring about the ruin of their species.  

Soap was originally brought before him as another prisoner, someone he was supposed to burn and then consume – the first meal he’d seen in several weeks at that point – but the strange human had been smart enough to convince him they could work together to escape. He only bonded with his Johnny with the intention of leaving him the moment they were free, but it would seem the connection between a dragon and their chosen rider goes much deeper than Ghost had realised at the time.  

Even if he wanted to, Ghost couldn’t get rid of the damn human, they were bound together for life and Ghost wouldn’t be able to have another rider until Soap’s death. If he survived the pain of a lost partner, that is. Begrudging as he was to admit it, he really couldn’t see himself bonding with another, they would either perish together or Ghost would return to the wilds, the last of his kind.  

At least, that was what Ghost had thought, what the silly little humans and their so-called scholars had thought. But Ghost knew the scent of dragon, could pick it up from miles and miles away, and somewhere on this mountainside? There was another dragon.  

For hours he’s forced Soap to circle the same patch of land, breathing in lungful after lungful of the delightful smell. It sends tingles down the entire length of his spine every time he catches it, but he’s not entirely certain why. That isn’t what he’s focusing on, however, rather he is more interested in trying to pinpoint where the smell is coming from. It’s difficult with how dense the trees are, but eventually, he spots a clearing large enough for them to safely land.  

He twists about in the air, drifting just above the tops of the pine trees, before he lowers his legs and drops down onto the grass below, none too gently if Soap’s pained grunt is anything to go by. He tries to send something akin to an apology down their shared bond, but it’s no doubt overshadowed by the rapidly climbing excitement building within him.  

Johnny just huffs at him, swinging his leg over his saddle, before clambering down Ghost’s back to the ground. “Now, what’s got ye so full o’ beans?” the human grumbles, petting at the side of Ghost’s face when he offers it. Unable to verbally explain, he merely whines and starts stepping from foot to foot, entirely restless. The display, unfortunately, just gets Soap to laugh at his enthusiasm.  

Deciding to ignore his rider’s cruel mockery of his eagerness, Ghost is quick to put his snout to the ground and begin sniffing. If he were a dog, his tail would have been wagging at a mile an hour, but he’s a dragon, and dragons compose themselves with much more dignity, and so, Ghost will deny any claims Johnny makes about him practically wriggling with excitement when he catches a trail he can actually follow.  

The scent takes him away from the open grass and further up the mountain, through some of the sparsely growing trees, before he finally sees physical evidence of his target. Where the trees have begun to cluster closer together, several of them have been knocked clean over, torn up roots and all, covered in deep claw-shaped gouges.  

The destruction doesn’t go unnoticed by Soap, who starts trying to deter him from his search, but Ghost has a clear path to follow now, and instead picks up speed. He’s not exactly subtle as he crashes through the short bushes and branches at get in his way, and Johnny certainly isn’t helping the matter with his panicked yelling. Fortunately, he’s not so distracted that he misses the massive, gaping hole in the side of the mountain, screeching to a halt when he realises that’s where the scent is freshest.  

Ancient trees form a thick canopy above the cave’s entrance, hiding it entirely from the air while still creating a space large enough for a dragon to easily enter and exit. It’s the perfect spot for a lair, far superior to the dragon stables Ghost is currently forced to live in, miserably lonely wooden structures that no longer even smell like the dragons they once housed.  

This dark cavern, surrounded by only the sounds of nature – the wind, the birds, the bubbling stream nearby – and smelling strongly of a lair is perhaps the most enticing place Ghost has ever encountered. He could easily see himself choosing to roost here, hunting the grasslands at the base of the mountain and indulging in a long nap or two beside the cool stream in the midday heat.  

Poor Johnny had only just caught up with him, reaching out to rest a hand on his hind leg, only for Ghost to start moving again, much to the man’s disapproval. He pokes his head into the cave, noting that it’s much deeper than he had anticipated, with tall ceilings and even a small pool of water at its centre. It’s dark inside, so much so he almost entirely misses the large form settled at the back of the cave, mistaking it for a large pile of stone.  

He realises perhaps too late that the rocks are moving and is more than a little stunned to find a pair of bright green eyes blinking back at him. As his eyes rapidly adjust to the darkness, he sees the large, powerful form of the dragon who had been resting moments earlier. Your scales are completely black, blending in seamlessly with the shadows, and a large frill juts all the way from your neck to the tip of your tail. Your horns are long and sharp, pointed like the tips of deadly spears, and a deep emerald green is glowing from between your bared teeth, evidence of the flames you’re more than ready to unleash on this unknown dragon.  

It hits him like a bludgeon to the face when he takes in another breath of your scent – you're not just a dragon, you’re a she-dragon. He’s not only found himself a fellow dragon, but perhaps the very last female of his species. He’s so enamoured by this discovery that he completely overlooked the fact that the two of you aren’t alone. A gasp from Johnny is all it takes for your attention to immediately shift to the human currently gaping at you from your own doorway.  

It’s rather embarrassing having to later listen to Soap gripe and groan to Price and Gaz about almost being toasted by you when Ghost had to rather quickly snatch him out of the literal line of fire.  

The two of you might have got off on the wrong wing, but Ghost is certain he can win you over. He’s not exactly sure how his species usually try to court one another, but he’s seen how humans attempt to woo their mates, so surely it can’t be too difficult, right?  

[jaehaeryshater]

Illustration from Septon Barth’s novel ‘Dragon, Wyrms, and Wyverns: Their Unnatural History.’ The image depicts Vhagar proudly presenting her hatchlings to her mate Balerion, circa 35 AC. The hatchlings are identified by Barth as Sheepstealer, Cannibal, Vermithor, and two she-dragons that remained nameless, as they died before bonding and being named by any Targaryen. ‘The Black Dread’, as he was called, invoked fear in the hearts of not only people, but other dragons as well, and his hatchlings are depicted cowering from him, though he meant them no harm. All except Vermithor, who easily became familiar with his father, which greatly pleased Vhagar. This depiction was later called into question for being propaganda for Jaehaerys’s rule and exceptionalism, but the truth remains unknown.

art by: @ra-horakhty-art

Recently, I promised a sweet Balerion, Vhagar, and family artwork and I (and the artist ofc) have delivered! You might have seen the artist post this already, but I wanted to post it on my blog as well because I’m so proud of the piece. My vision going in was for it not to be depicted just as an artwork for us in the real world, but also presented with a storybook feel, with the added lore that it’s supposed to be an illustration from one of the histories in A Song of Ice And Fire. I tried to take into account not just popular depictions of the dragons, nor House of the Dragon, but specifically from the text and from art that GRRM himself has commissioned. Because of this, Vhagar is bronze-greenish instead of her standard green. After hearing @francy-sketches theory that Vhagar, for lack of a better term, oxidized with age and became green as she got older, I decided I liked that interpretation and have depicted her as green in artwork of her once she gets older, and this color when she’s relatively young. I‘m a bit biased but I do think it looks beautiful and exactly how I wanted it, book accurate and something you could imagine actually seeing in a Westerosi history book.

My main motivator in these dragon arts, as I’ve stated before, is to explore the nature of dragons, not as weapons of war or in context of the Targaryens, but as mythical animals. They’re not quite like lizards, but also can’t be held to the same standards as people. In most dragon lore, they often act like mammals but are physically reptiles. Most stories involving dragons have the creatures caring for their young and maintaining a bond with their mate, so for lack of anything on the subject from GRRM, I take it upon myself to feed my headcanons. I find it sweet to depict times where Vhagar was not lonely, nor being used in war. It adds another element of tragedy, that these dragons did not have to fight each other but were made to anyway. On a happier note, is it not so so sweet how the hatchlings here are so comfortable with their mom to protect them, they’re cowering under her and climbing on her wings because they trust her. My favorite is Sheepstealer on her wing, that’s adorable to me. And Vermithor, I did mean for that to be true instead of just propaganda, but I couldn’t help adding a little Jaehaerys slander. But Vermithor is still a very brave boy and wants to be just like his father when he grows big and strong! Cannibal, on the other hand, is scared out of his mind, all these anxieties and being forced around other dragons caused him to fly away and isolate himself (in my mind).

It was such a pleasure to work with @ra-horakhty-art, they were super accommodating and worked easily with my ideas. The process was super fast and easy on my end, he works hard and quickly so I was absolutely impressed.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

dewdrops deserted in the carnage 

the wistful wyvern, chapter four

a/n: we're mostly getting angsty in this chapter, buuuuut also just a little bit slutty at the end. just a little sprinkling of spice.

summary: “please, stop,” you said firmly, your glare briefly averting, “look, trust me when I say, I wouldn’t be here if I had any other choice. But unfortunately, you’re the only one with the information that we need.”

warnings: knight!bucky barnes x knight!reader, fantasy AU (monsters, but not much magic), original fantasy world, ex-friends to lovers, coworkers to lovers, former fuckboy!bucky, tattooed!bucky, slow burn, one-sided pinning, forced proximity, violence, weapons, the death of a horse, crying, only one bed, jealousy

word count: 3398

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“I mean, I knew that your dad was a crook, but One-eyed Ollie? That’s your father?” 

Letting a heavy sigh seep from your lungs, “unfortunately,” you didn’t bother throwing a glance over at the warden riding beside you.

“How did I not know this?” 

“Only the most important people know,” you shrugged, as the king had kept up his promise to keep your past secret. 

“Oh, geez, thanks, snow,” Bucky huffed, taking your comment to heart, “glad for the assurance of where we fucking stand.” 

Twisting your neck, you glanced over at him as his stare was now firm on the road you travelled down, “…fine,” you exhaled, “what do you wanna know?”

Meeting your gaze, his curiosity then began to overflow, “what’s he like? What was your childhood like? Did you know him well?”

“Uh, well,” an awkward chuckle briefly billowed out of you, “let’s just say, he wouldn’t win any awards for his parenting skills. His idea of bonding with his kid wasn’t to teach me how to fish or farm. He taught me how to lie and steal from innocent people. To be honest, I don’t even know if he ever really saw me as a child, more just a tiny impressionable human being that he could mould into the perfect addition to his team…” 

Staring over at you, he asked, “were you there back then?”

“No, that was a little before my time,” you cocked your head as you frame rocked with each of Zenna’s steps, “if I’d already been a part of the only successful attempt there’d been in all the history of Obelón at breaking into the vault in Ingorn’s palace, then I wouldn’t need to go seek help from my father after swearing I’d never even acknowledge his existence again for the remainder of my days.”

Pursing his lips, his gaze then flicked away from you as he uttered slowly, “…so, have you ever stolen anything from me?”

Rolling your eyes, you sighed loudly through the amused smile that somehow bloomed on your lips, “Buck–”

“Have you?” 

“No!” you exclaimed, “of course not.” 

“Really?” he tilted his head before turning his attention back towards the road, “your fingers never had a moment where they itched too much to resist–,” and as he spoke, you begrudgingly fulfilled his request and swept out your grasp, snatching up the coin purse at his belt right as his body’s swaying gave you an opportunity. Though as soon as you’d swiped it, completely unbeknownst to him, you threw it back in his face and the pouch struck his bearded jaw, “ow!” before it tumbled down into his grasp. 

As his eyes lifted from the purse up to shoot a glare in your direction, you just huffed, “there. You happy? I stole something from you. Now can we please just–” 

But the rest of your banter got cut short as a rumbling abruptly shook the earth beneath you. Both of the horses reacted, getting a bit spooked at their sudden unstable footing. 

Without any further warning, the dirt before you split open as a huge ankheg burrowed its way out. 

Skittering forth with its many legs, the insectoid creature ferociously jumped your horse, causing her to tumble over as the monster snapped its large mandibles at her. Tumbling to the grass, all the air got knocked out of your lungs from the impact. 

Coughing and reeling from the fall, you swiftly unsheathed a couple of daggers and tossed them just as Bucky too sent a few bolts flying as well, both of them sinking into the monster at the same time. 

Unfortunately, the ankheg hadn’t been alone as a few more then crawled out of the hole and attacked you both. 

One skurried on top of you as you were still dazed on the ground. Its long branch-like antennas swayed above its head as it screeched a clicking call over you.

The bulbous sack that protruded right on its throat throbbed as green acidic saliva began to drip out of its mouth and down its mandibles, scarcely missing your head as it sizzled against the grass.

Fiddling for a blade, you sucked in a shaky breath when you discovered there weren’t any left on your person. 

As it pinned you down and you used all of your might to keep it at bay, your glance first fluttered to your partner for help, only to discover that he too was in over his head. Your frantic eyes then flickered around, searching for anything you might be able to defend yourself with. 

And just above your head, there lied a solid rock. 

Bending your legs, you pressed your boots up against the ankheg’s hard scales, using everything you had as you slipped your right hand out and stretched it to the stone. Only your fingertips grazed it at first as it wasn’t quite in your reach. Straining till a scream forced its way out of your lungs, your grip then finally succeeded and wrapped around the rock. 

It stunned the creature slightly when you knocked the stone against its head, enough to grant you the upper hand and slip out from under it. 

You didn’t know how many times you repeatedly brought the rock down upon the monster as you lost yourself completely till you were kneeling above its smashed remains, heaving for breath, with its dark green viscera splashed across you and dripping from the stone still glued in your grasp.

The grunt of Bucky dealing the killing blow to the one he was battling didn’t manage to snap you out of your trance. But when the dying sounds of your horse cut through the blinding adrenaline within you and found your ears, in an instant the rock tumbled from your grasp.

Twisting around, tears swiftly blurred up the image of Zenna suffering on the ground, her brown-speckled stomach split open and blistering as her innards spilt out of her. 

“No, no, no–,” you shakily scrambled to your feet, but already knew there wasn’t anything you could do. 

The only thing you could do for her now was end her pain. 

Bending down, you pulled one of your daggers out of her killer’s corpse, still lying right beside her. 

Your hands were shaking so hard that you nearly dropped the blade. Every muscle in your body locked up as you tried to kneel down beside Zenna. 

Then, as tears streamed down your cheeks and dropped to the blood-stained grass below, a hand suddenly appeared and slipped the weapon out of your hand. 

Blinking up into Bucky’s blue eyes, he quietly uttered, “I’ll do it,” as he tightened his fist around the hilt of the short blade. 

As he sank down onto his knees, you turned around and shut your eyes. 

When her suffering sounds were no more and the road grew quiet, an onslaught of tears violently burst out of you. 

Rising to his feet, Bucky wrapped his arms around you before you tumbled over. Twisting slightly, you curled into him, welcoming his hug as your sobs melted against his armoured chest.

“You ready?” Bucky asked softly in your ear as he sat behind you on his ebony mount. 

Staring up at the intimidating dark stone fortress of Yoslor Penitentiary, you let out a low breath, “no.” 

Sometime in the decade since you’d been imprisoned here, your father had finally been caught. For what exactly you weren’t sure of, but the night that the king had pulled you aside to discreetly inform you, was the first one you’d soundly slept through, perhaps ever. 

Even though the last very thing you desired was to lay eyes on your dad once more, you still slipped off of the stallion but a moment after Bucky did. 

You were both let in without much fuss after stating your stature and your business. Guards led you through the prison, passed some of the cells, and escorted you to a chamber, not unlike the one you’d been in when you had talked to the king and your whole life had changed.

After you’d both taken a seat at the central table, not much time passed before, like a haunting nightmare, the voice of your father began to rumble on the other side of the closed door.

“Oh come on, gents. You can tell me who my visitor is,” your eyes fluttered shut a moment at the familiar sound, “or do you want me to guess?”

Blowing out a slow and agonising exhale, you gathered yourself right before the door burst open and in tumble your father. 

Though he was a bit slimmer now, had lost more of his hair, as well as the new accessory of heavy chains that restricted his movements, he still looked exactly the same. 

“Well, well, well…” a bright grin split apart his lips, flashing you a few of his golden teeth, as the guards tossed him down into the opposing chair and secured his chains, “my baby dewdrop,” he stared at you with the eye not scared over and covered by a leather patch, “I heard you got out.”

“Hello, Olliander,” you greeted coldly, keeping your spine straight. 

“Oh, come on, no need to be so rigid,” the chains jangled loudly and he gestured with his hands, “get over here and give your pa a big hug.” 

“Please, stop,” you said firmly, your glare briefly averting, “look, trust me when I say, I wouldn’t be here if I had any other choice. But unfortunately, you’re the only one with the information that we need.”

“And what would I get out of this little arrangement?” 

Staring back at him, you swore you felt steam begin to billow out of your ears, “you would get to help your daughter, finally do something reminiscent of good, after running and making me take the fall when I’d thought you’d only set me up to be the decoy.”

“Look, dewdrop, it was a different time back then, the authorities were hot of our trail!” he tried to diminish your statement, “someone had to go down in order to save the rest of us.”

“So, you thought it should be your own kid?” you seethed, leaning forward in your seat ever so slightly. 

“…well, you’re tough, I knew you’d be able to handle it,” he tilted his head, “and just look at you now! If I hadn’t made that decision, then you’d never have this fancy new life of yours.” 

“Don’t you dare,” the little restraint you tried to keep a hold of snapped, “don’t you fucking dare take any of the credit. You didn’t do a single thing, my entire life, you never did anything that didn’t benefit you,” your pointer finger extended accusatorially, “so, I’m not asking you, I am telling you, you will give us the information we need, or else I’ll make sure your life here gets a hell of a lot more miserable than it already is.” 

The room fell quiet, not even Bucky dared to move before your father eventually let out a heavy sigh, “…what do you wanna know?”

“The vault in Ingorn’s palace, the one made out of hellstone,” your fingers dug into your thigh beneath the table as you spoke, “how did you do it?”

The one-eyed criminal then began to laugh, “seriously? You wanna break into that? I mean, you’re good, dewdrop, almost as good as me, but come on, with how rusty you must be these days, that is just insane–”

“Just tell us how you did it,” you barked. 

“Alright, fine,” he exhaled and rested a restrained arm against the edge of the table, “well, first of all, the lock on it is a thing of beauty, you can’t just tickle her open like a lady with a few lockpicks…” 

“You know, when you said that you knew a place in Erasild where we could stash our stuff, this isn’t what I imagined,” you stared up at the building before you, before shooting a glare in Bucky’s direction, “a brothel? Seriously? We don’t have time to pause everything just so that you can get laid.”

“Hey, this is business, not pleasure,” he stated, then playfully added before heading inside, “but if you wanna get that stick out of your ass, I’m sure some of them would like to help.”

As you entered behind him, the warmth radiating from the establishment swiftly thawed the evening chill that had settled in your bones. Navigating through the clusters of small tables, gently lit by candlelight, a trio of bards in the corner caught your ear as they strummed out a smooth ditty as a part of the sensual ambience. 

A voluptuous woman then sauntered out of a backroom with a casket of clinking wine bottles in her grasp. As she sat it down on the bar with a loud thud and her gaze then flickered up to spot your travelling companion, her face lit up into a bright smile. 

“Ah! Darling!” she immediately walked up to him and threw her arms around him. Pressing her lips to his cheek in a loud peck, she then pulled him back at arm’s length to get a good look at him, “what has it been, like three years? I was starting to think you’d died on me.”

“It's good to see you too, Helen,” a warm chuckle rumbled out of Bucky, before he then twisted back towards you, “let me introduce you,” he held out an open hand in your direction, “this is Warden Y/l/n,” you bowed your head softly as she found your eye, “snow, this is Helen Raye, owner and proprietor of The Sapphire Chateau.”

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance, madam,” you offered her a tight-lipped smile. 

“The pleasure is all mine,” she purred, letting her gaze study you a second before her plump lips parted once more, “so, will you be wanting to share your entertainment tonight, or do you want someone all for yourself? There is this girl that came to me a few years back that I know you’d just love,” your eyes couldn’t help but grow wide as Helen battered her eyelashes up at Bucky, “she can’t just bend herself into a pretzel, but every other shape imaginable.” 

“Uh, some other time, Hel,” he declined with a polite smile, “we’re not really here for that.”

“Oh,” she breathed, though still smirked back at Bucky like she was about to ravage him. 

“We just need a place to set off a few things, let Echo stay, just for a little bit while we go pay Ingorn a visit.” 

“Ah, you must be going to that fancy ball they’re throwing! I’ve no idea what the occasion is, but business has been booming the past few weeks as all sorts of lords and ladies have passed through on their way down to the capital.”

Sharing a glance with you at the new information, Bucky then fibbed, “uh, yeah, we–… we are.” 

Twisting her frame, Helen then waved down a lanky boy behind the bar and said, “I’ll have Jeremy take care of your horse,” you watched as the lad zoomed out to do his duty, “and if you want somewhere secure to store your items, you’re welcome to use the little safe in my room.” 

“Thank you,” you uttered. 

“Do you have any rooms available?” Bucky asked as Helen manoeuvred around the bar, “a hot bath would be nice before we head out again.” 

“Uh,” her vision fluttered down behind the counter where a few keys hung from small hooks, “I have one room unoccupied,” she held up a dangling key, hooked on her curved finger, “it’s yours if you want it.”

And before you could protest about how this didn’t line up with the limited time you had to work with, Bucky had already snatched up the key, “thanks.”

“Room eight,” her teeth lightly caught her bottom lip, “your favourite, if I recall correctly.” 

If his back hadn’t been turned to you, the flush that then crept up on Bucky’s features would have been noticeable to your eyes even in this low light, “it–, uh, yeah, thanks,” he then cleared his throat, “the soap and such still in the same spot?”

“It is.”

“Great,” he exhaled, then turned to you, “I’m gonna head up first, get cleaned up,” his feet already began to carry him towards the staircase in the corner, “you mind ordering us some food? I’m starving for a proper meal.” 

“Uh, sure,” you uttered, still a bit stunned as you now found yourself without a buffer, “so, what kind of food do you serve in this establishment?”

“Let me get you a menu, love,” Helen headed into the back for a moment, only to return with more than just a pamphlet of culinary options. As the list slid over the bar towards you, her palm also insistently pushed a small glass vial containing some dried herbs in your direction. 

“What–,” heat began to rise in your cheeks as you read the small label. It was athrire, the herb commonly brewed into a tea and utilised as birth control, “oh, no, thanks, but I don’t need this.”

“You’ve been on the road for a while, and from how I know that man, you’ve probably run out by now,” she winked and pushed it right back to you as you tried to return it. 

“No, it’s really not like that, we’re not–”

“Darling,” her hand enclosed momentarily around yours, “just take it.”

When you’d found the room, Bucky was so fresh out of his bath that you nearly caught a glimpse of something as he buttoned up a fresh pair of pants. Droplets still trailed down his inked physique as he turned at the sound of your entrance. 

If his painstakingly slow work at covering his drool-worthy body up again hadn’t been enough to make you more flustered than a bashful bunny, the discovery that the room only had one bed sure did the trick.

It shouldn’t have surprised you, but it still managed to. 

And when you stated that you’d just sleep on the floor and let him have the plush mattress all to himself, Bucky argued teasingly that you’d slept under the stars together countless times before. 

But that had been different, oh so very different and he knew it.

As he disappeared to get your food, you grabbed a quick bath. The view of the night sky from out of the balcony doors relaxed and distracted you long enough that you had to scramble at the last moment when Bucky returned, knocking on the door before you shrieked for him to stay on the other side just a moment longer as you rushed out of the tub. 

After the warm meal was scarfed down and a dozen yawns had escaped your lungs, you found yourself in a place you never thought you’d actually get to be. 

In bed next to Bucky. 

You were afraid to move. Just laid there like a statue, your stare darting from the constellations clear out the tall window, to the small Zondür alter in the corner of the chamber. 

But eventually, you heard your hushed tone fill the room, “so, Helen…”

“Hm?” Bucky hummed from his side of the bed, “what about her?”

“She seems nice,” your gaze bore a hole into the ceiling. 

Hearing him shift beside you, he said, “well, she is.” 

Feeling his gaze upon your silhouette, you didn’t dare to twist and meet his eye, “…so, how many of the other people that work here do you think are nice?”

A short chuckle then bubbled out of him, “snow…” before he teased, “what are you trying to get a personal recommendation or something?”

Your mouth then flew open as you shot him a glare, “no, I just–,” letting out a loud groan, “forget I said anything,” and you frantically turned your back to him, “go to sleep.” 

“Helen is very good at what she does,” he casually informed you through his amused smirk, “she hires people who are very good at their job, people who are very nice. You’d be in good hands with any of them.”

“I-I wasn’t trying to–,” you stammered, nearly twisting around to bash his mass in the moonlight, “just shut up, please!” but he just laughed. 

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[quarterlifekitty]

What if 👀 fire emblem three houses!AU

In this— I imagine you and all of the guys are graduates of Garreg Mach officer’s academy. They’ve all become knights of Seiros, while you, being a bearer of the crest of Seiros, are being groomed to take up a higher position of authority within the church. (Thinking of having Laswell as the archbishop. Wouldn’t that be funny?)

Gaz is noble born but decided to become a knight, leaving the care of his house to his sister. He started as a myrmidon and eventually became a swordmaster. He was something of a heartbreaker in his academy days, though you remained immune to his charms then and now. He bears a major crest of the elite. He’s more concerned with your safety now that you have an important position.

Soap is a commoner, and began as a brawler, now a war master. In his academy days, he cared much more for training than studying, and was constantly pestering you to spar with him. He tries to show more deference now because of your position in the church, even though you’ve said there’s no need. He bears no crest.

Ghost began as a mercenary and mage, and now is a mortal savant. He bears a minor, unknown crest. His allegiance is only really to individuals, rather than the church— namely you and Price. In his academy days he was know for being unapproachable, with not much having changed. He resents that you’ve been pulled further into the fold of the church without being given much choice, but is by your side in the matter regardless.

Price is a paladin, and is of an earlier graduating class, though his years and yours did overlap somewhat. He bears the minor crest of a saint. He’s loyal to a fault to the church, perhaps, and now you’re grouped in along with it.

Nikolai is from Price’a graduating class. He is a wyvern lord and has a knack for animal handling. In your academy days, he teased you relentlessly for being smaller and having no shortage of issues when it came to learning to bond with mounts. He gives you a smug sort of smile whenever he has to bow in your presence. He bears no crest.

König is a noble, bearing a major crest of the elite. His family expects him to withdraw from knighthood when he is needed to take command of his house, and he’s dreading that day. He was a cavalier and is now a great knight, with training as a bow knight. In your academy days, he was known for his complete lack of affinity for all types of magic, and for spending more time at the stables than in the presence of others. He had hoped to propose to you upon your graduation, but your being ascended into a church position has delayed that. He’s waiting for the right moment.

Horangi is a disinherited noble, as he does not bear a crest. He’s since found his way through many walks of life, and worked as a mercenary prior to becoming a knight. He is a trickster, having both an affinity with the blade and for healing magic. He is loyal to you still— where his employment as a knight began purely in self interest, he now holds some belief that you might actually better the world through your new position, where he finds other church officials do nothing more than uphold status quo.

Nikto is a dark knight. He grew up at the monastery, though he did have a stint outside of its walls traveling, he came back and was granted admission to the officers academy, partially due to his martial prowess and partially due to his bearing of a major saint’s crest. He has the greatest affinity with dark magic, and that combined with his unwavering use of a mask has made others distrust him. Despite this, he is grateful to the church for its support in his life, and sees no better path for himself than serving it for as long as it doesn’t inconvenience him. He dislikes many of the other knights and does not see them as truly loyal. As such, he is often keeping tabs on which ones are close to you and attempting to get closer.

@machveil heehee 💖

[glasgalahad]

Sᴀɴᴅ ᴀɴᴅ Bʟᴏᴏᴅ.

Sand Barioths are the mounts of seasoned Lamure warriors. One has to prove their fortitude, endurance, and lethality to gain the right to bond with such a highly-respected ally, and once formed, that link will never fracture.

Lamure's vast expanses are highly unforgiving and volatile- as such, a remote tribe housed on the edge of the Sadona Barrens has long known that beasts designed for speed and agility serve far better in navigating their home.

These wyverns are regarded as companions of the utmost honour. To see one daubed in its Rider's paint and hand-crafted ornaments is to witness an ancient partnership that has persisted for countless generations.

↠ Sand Barioth is an extremely underrated subspecies, in my opinion. Most of MonHun's subspecies feel a little too much like reskins or are too similar to their predecessors- Green Nargacuga, Pink Rathian & Aurora Somnacanth come to mind, in particular. Sand Barioth breaks the species mold, placing the monster in the antithesis of its domain- it's a really fun, flashy, and bold concept.

In terms of inspiration here, I based both lore and visuals on the ethnic Karo people of Ethiopia. Their daily practise of body-painting is really beautiful, and so strikingly captures the human experiences of creativity and self-expression.

Be sure to check out my other Monster Hunter illustrations!

GʟᴀsGᴀʟᴀʜᴀᴅ 2024 | Mᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ʙᴇ ᴜsᴇᴅ/ʀᴇᴅɪsᴛʀɪʙᴜᴛᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴡʀɪᴛᴛᴇɴ ᴄᴏɴsᴇɴᴛ.

[creative-frequency]

Yay! I'm glad to hear that Rook's wyvern has struck a chord with you (and others? oh, my! I'm actually so flustered and flattered right now, thank you for telling me 🥹)! Also, what do you think the of the wyvern being named 'Knight' or 'Queen' (you know, because Rook is called 'Rook')?

Anyway! How do you think that first meeting between the wyvern and Lucanis went (at least from Luncanis's perspective)? Like was he about to arrive at the Lighthouse for the first time before Rook is all, 'Oh! Hey, Lucanis, one last thing before we arrive. You don't have any wyvern poison on you, right? My wyvern companion will want to give you a quick sniff and she might mistake you for a rival if that's the first thing she smells on you.' Would Lucanis even believe it until he sees it?

This man better be ready for the good things that are about to happen to him 💚

Rook's Wyvern: First Meeting with Lucanis

The wyvern should definitely be named something royal like Queen, Marquis, or Baron.

Let’s go with Baroness for this one! She would have blue stripes across her scales.

Lucanis would be so dumbstruck at Rook’s unexpected inquiry that he would have to process the information in pieces: “What? Why would I have wyvern poison on me? And, what do you mean by ‘my wyvern companion’? Wait. You have a wyvern? Here?”

Rook is not sure if the assassin is terrified or not.

Cue three different variations of the question: “You have an actual wyvern? How?”

When he gets the confusion cleared, palpable enthusiasm quickly follows. Rook is baffled, while Lucanis is vibrating with excitement but desperately tries to rein it down.

After Lucanis is introduced to the other Veilguard members and settled down (and Spite has calmed down), Rook would suggest that they go meet the Baroness now – if Lucanis can afford the time, of course.

“Yes. Lead the way.” The man would not hesitate. If this turns out to be an elaborate joke or a misunderstanding, all his hopes and dreams will be crushed.

It’s better to be proactive rather than wait for Baroness to realise there is a new person in her territory aka the Lighthouse.

Lucanis would try to play it cool because they only just met with Rook and he wants to make a professional impression, but damn it’s hard not to geek out.

He would coolly (not really) mention that he has been really interested in wyverns ever since he was a boy.

Rook would be so relieved to hear this because normally they have to persuade people into this meeting process that is meant for their own safety.

Lucanis waits a good distance away at first.

Rook has their way of calling the Baroness and when she arrives, Lucanis is completely amazed as he stares at the real live wyvern. For a small moment, everything is worth it.

Lucanis would be floored by the way Rook handles the astonishing creature. Even Spite would be impressed at the presence and bond those two command.

Rook talks to the wyvern like one talks to an intelligent creature and introduces Lucanis with a heavy emphasis on “He is part of our team.”

Rook motions Lucanis to stay still. Baroness takes a sniff of the air, then carefully paces closer to sniff his clothes before backing away and leaving.

Lucanis is still staring.

“Curious. She likes you.”

He wants to hear everything about Baroness and what Rook knows about wyverns. Rook will promise Baroness will surely allow him to pet her if he would like to.

This is the best thing that has happened to Lucanis in his whole life.

[molter-writes]

pleeeasssee miller i know you let the work stand on it's own but please tell us jsut a tad bit more about the valyerian sex magic!!!!

i meannnn

on valyrian sex magic

i am not the person to ask for the true asoiaf lore, of course; but there is obviously a pervasive source of magic across Planetos — accessible by many cultures in many different forms — and the "flavour" of the magic of each is very much a reflection, i think, of what GRRM wants us to glean about each. the Starks are themselves effectively the oldest singular consistent human organisation, if you will, that we actually meet in the books, and their magic is extremely rudimentary and primordial—they turn into animals and talk to trees. It's giving primordial man, it's giving Lucy—humanity as a symbiotic participant in (rather than an editor of) the natural world.

fast forward almost five thousand years: the valyrians are not tree hugging hunter-gatherers. they are the roman empire if the roman empire were composed of evil wizards. Their magic is dark, rooted in blood and fire—it was a tool of mind control, of asymmetric warfare, of wroth destruction. It required blood sacrifice and whips and horns and knives. It mated slave women to animals to produce grotesque chimeras. The entire thing is about the subjugation, not the embrace, of nature. Obviously until we have WoW or (lol) aDoS, we won't know—and maybe not even then—but the best prevailing theory in my view is that blood of the dragon is literal. Planetos has wyverns and, more importantly, firewyrms (flightless, firebreathing lizards) that the Valyrians almost certainly combined with human beings in some ritualistic hellcurse to produce the first dragons. this explains (1) the psychogenic bond between rider and dragon; (2) why nobody without valyrian blood can ride one; (3) the decline of the dragons correlating near-perfectly with the Andalisation (read: de-magifying) of the Targaryens; and perhaps most importantly, (4) why an animal that can fly hundreds of miles in a day would for some reason be found only on a single small isle in some random corner of a massive content that has volcanos and mountains and hot weather elsewhere. only one culture having dragons is like only one airport having planes.

much like the american NRA often asserts about guns, dragons are something of a sexual equaliser. part of why rhaenyra is so much freer than alicent when they're young is not merely because of her elevated social station (which is a principal part of it, yes) but also because she is in sole possession of one of the only six nukes in the world. At fifteen Rhaenyra possesses the power to go burn Riverrun to its foundation. I mean, if you thought Daenerys had firepower—regardless of D&D's absolute boneheaded visual mistakes in the show—Syrax is bigger than Drogon.

in any case i digress; i bring this up to make the point that while we do know valyria was a patriarchy of sorts, you can imagine a world in which a valyrian noble house would be headed (on occasion) by a woman because she is the most powerful imperial military leader because she is in command of the largest dragon. as a result, you can imagine a culture that embraces less patriarchal sexual and gender politics than do the Andals, and when take this inference a step further with the chimeras and the dragon-making and all the other frankensteinian blood magic, i just don't think it's that much of a leap to imagine that some dragon-wielding all-powerful female ruthless blood wizard in ancient Valyria decided—based on blood purity or necessity or ego or whatever—to impregnate some other woman. some maesters recorded that dragons appeared to change their sex—becoming able and unable to lay and fertilise eggs. Anyway, I just don't put genderbending and fempreg past the people who—if the theory is right—invented fucking dragons. It seems easier to do magic pregnancy than to do dragons. idk. melisandre gave birth to a shadow. nearly every ancient tradition on the planet can explore the miracle of virgin conception but we can't have lesbo baby?? why?? thank you for coming to my Ted Talk