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Artfight is draining honestly and trying to mix it with fics is too much. But maybe I'll post my art here though just to be active? Or I'll make separate ac just for my oc art

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Mother

@/unnpunishable. "@/mothercain shot by @/edith_undrgrnd, march 2021" twitter, 12 jun 2022.

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Yk what I really hate? Miss characterisation.

Like I be reading those fics and my face is like 😧

Cus I know damn well they wouldn't have done that, even worse if it isn't an au or something.

That's why I've been studying Jacob's character for the past few days (⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠) Because honestly I feel like I didn't put enough effort in my last one, so yeah get ready for another Jacob fic coming soon(probably with Divya too)

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⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆Warmth⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

Summary: Just a lazy afternoon between the two

Pairing: Jacob Black X oc? It's just a mention of a name(Divya) with female pronouns.

Word count: 3k

I'll probably edit this as to add more storyline but decided to post it as I've been offline for long enough.

I didn't reread this so there might be some mistakes

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The rain drips down the window as the wind blows through the thick forest, giving it the odd feeling of calmness. If Divya wasn't so used to it by now she'd be worried for her boyfriend like mad. Well if she didn't know he was a wolf.

But now? Now it's like a routine, given how often it rains in Forks.

Rubbing her feet together underneath her blanket Divy buried herself deeper into her pile of blankets. That damned heater stopped working yet again, making her consider just throwing it out, knowing it's a second time it malfunctioned.

With a sigh she just peacefully, abelit bored, continued reading her book. Which happened to not be so interesting as Divya dozed off in seconds, not to add the sound of rain played a significant part in it too.

Unfortunately enough she couldn't rest long as that familiar padding against the hard wood woke her up.

".... shit.." she mumbles with a groan pushing herself up, her book falling off the bed while doing so, groggily she moved, her bare feet hitting the cold wooden tiles as she dragged her body out of the bedroom. "....fuckin'..." A yawn slipped past her lips as Divy leaned against the doorframe, her gaze focusing on the silhouette she came to know so well.

Jacob stood just slightly away from the door so as not to make any mess, considering he's dropping wet. He ran a hand through his hair, shaking the water off as if he still was a wolf.

".... You might want to take a shower" she mumbles, and at that Jacob's gaze flickered to her's and a smirk tugged at his lips.

"And you should be asleep," He said taking her form in, an oversized t-shirt with some band logo that's worn out, her favourite one that she always sleeps in.

"Yeah well um—.... thought... someone broke in or something" Divya mumbles, her arms crossed as she watched him. Jacob's brow raised at that and he took few attentive steps towards the girl.

"Intruders huh?" He mused, "I doubt anyone would want to break in here" He adds stepping just a few feet away, his gaze, dark ever so watchful eyes locked in on her face. "... better safe than worry" Divya said with a huff pushing herself off the door frame to give his shoulder a nudge "Come on, you stink of wolf " she said walking past him to the shower.

Jacob of course had that soft smirk plastered as he soon followed after

"What? We're taking a shower together now?" He asked, head slightly tilting as if daring her, at which she just hums.

"Not happenin' "

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The door to the bathroom creaked open, revealing a small, cozy but worn out bathroom. Both of them didn't say anything as they stepped inside, not wanting to ruin this oddly comfortable atmosphere.

Divy perched herself on the closed toilet, pulling one leg up so she could rest her chin on her knee. Watching as Jacob took his shirt off, throwing it in the watching machine.

"You look like a wet dog,"

A snicker escaped past her lips, a lazy smile graced her lips too.

"That's a...good thing?"

Jacob raised an eyebrow, gaze moving to hers as he unbuttons his trousers.

"I mean— yeah, yeah obviously"

An amused huff escaped Jacob as he simply shook his head slightly, stepping into the bathtub.

The noise of the shower running filled the bathroom, with occasional movements as Jacob moved on and about his business.

"You'll wash my back too?"

His voice called out, making Divya snap out of her headspace.

"What?— wash your back?"

She repeated, gaze flickering to the shower curtains, behind which was Jacob. Truthfully Divya thought he was just teasing.

"yeah"

Apparently not.

After a second of silence, Divya slid off the toilet seat, rubbing the back of her head a bit awkwardly.

"...m'kay"

She mumbles, shuffling and grabbing the sponge that was on the edge of the tub. Jacob shot her a look from behind his shoulder but said nothing, just looked back ahead. Letting Div run the sponge across his back quietly.

".... something...happened?" She asked after she drenched the sponge in water to clean his back of soap. At which Jacob huffed. His hair was wet, droplets of water sliding down his forehead across his cheek.

"What gave you that impression?" He asked, side eyeing her over his shoulder,

"Nothing— just uh, well no not... nothing. You've been just like, quiet. I haven't heard your attitude in a while"

Divya hums with a shrug, having finished washing his back.

Not letting him answer, or rather not letting the awkward silence fill the room as Jacob did not look like he wanted to answer, Div spoke up again.

".... want me to wash your hair too?"

Jake just nodded slowly lowering himself until he sat down in the tub.

Truthfully he has short hair, washing it would take like 5 minutes, max. But it does fill the silence.

Divya preached herself on the edge of the tub, squeezing out some soap before she began washing his scalp thoroughly.

If Jacob didn't want to speak, she will.

"I've uh— I've been driving around with my van, you know? And I think I've heard some... cracking in there? I'm like, pretty sure it shouldn't be happening—"

"Want me to check it?"

"....uh yeah, yeah if you have time?"

Divya nodded slowly, more to herself than him, a small chuckle escaped her.

"Honestly I'm just glad it's still driving. I wouldn't be surprised if one day it fully breaks down" she said shaking her head softly, her fingers moving across his head, rubbing small circles with her fingers.

"How old is it anyway?" Fortunately for her, Jacob regained himself, a bit, but it's something.

"Gee— I don't know, my uncle gave me it and it was already in a bad state. I think....10 years?" She said with a shrug, at which Jacob just nodded.

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Soon enough they were back in the bedroom,

"... Long day huh?" Divya as always tried to fill the silence,

"Yeah,"

The girl hummed to herself at that, crouching down to pick up her book which has previously got thrown on the floor. Turning the book around in her hand, and dusting it off.

"Oh by the way I started reading th—"

Suddenly, Divya felt a tug on her wrist, making her just slightly stumble back before hitting what she felt like was Jacob's chest.

Confused she looked up, only a bit as Jacob was already glued to her, his face burying in the crook of her neck, inhaling.

"...Jake?" She echoes softly, as if she would break the moment if she spoke louder.

He just shook his head slightly, his free hand that wasn't holding her wrist, wrapped around her waist, hand just slightly slipping underneath her shirt.

"You're cold," he murmurs, voice muffled by her skin.

"Yeah—" a chuckle slipped past Div's lips, her gaze flickering to the heater by the drawers. "the heater broke,"

"again?" Jake groans into her neck.

"Mhm," she nods with a hum before adding.

"But you're warm" Div said, leaning into him as if to prove her point.

[guilore]

Today seems like a GREAT day to read up on Quileute history and all the misconceptions Twilight spread, and if you can, donate to the Move to the Higher Ground project!

If you are interested in local history, you can also text your US zip code to 907-312-5085 and they’ll let you know whose indigenous land you are on.

((I am far from being the first person to share this info, and I hope I am not the last. Not only do we have new blogs that could benefit from these links, but as active fans it is our duty to exert the same energy into educating ourselves about social injustices around us, especially considering what our ~fave~ series did to the Quileute tribe.))

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Dwayne

He is so FINE

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Do we..... still like Twilight? Like please please I have a fic with Jacob in works

I have no idea why I'm obsessed with Twilight yet again

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he's coming for you, homelander.....

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Thyra Wittenberg's Relationship chart

Unhinged Witch of the North in House of the Dragon

Hihi, so thought I'd say that this work is just... what came into my head? I mean you definitely can see it....cough cough...Aegon. yeah I was burning out in some parts.

And uh yeah, forgot to delete the Aemond part (sorry). Back from my Aemond phase..

Yeah so Deamon was also supposed to be there but I'm still trynna figure out how their dynamic is....btw could you tell I'm falling in love with Helaena all over again? WILL be a fic about her and Thyra coming in soon.

Warnings:none I think

Word count: No idea 1k-2k

Relationships: Some hints?

☽༺The Blacks༻☾

🖤 Rhaenyra Targaryen – The Black Queen

- First Meeting: Rhaenyra hears whispers of a northern witch who defies death and commands dark magic. Seeking an advantage in the war, she sends a trusted ally to offer Thyra a place at her side.

- Dynamic: Rhaenyra is intrigued by Thyra’s power but wary of her unpredictability. Thyra, on the other hand, sees Rhaenyra as a woman scorned, much like herself, and respects her struggle—but she does not serve blindly.

- Battle & Strategy:Rhaenyra considers using Thyra’s magic as a secret weapon. Thyra could curse opposing generals, weaken morale, or even send terrifying omens. However, Thyra refuses to be a pawn, making her a risky ally.

- Personal Moments: Rhaenyra recognizes a kindred spirit in Thyra—a woman denied her rightful place. But Thyra’s unhinged nature unsettles her. She keeps Thyra at arm’s length, unsure whether she is an ally or a curse waiting to unfold.

🐺 Cregan Stark – The Wolf of the North

- First Meeting: Thyra, having roots in the North, crosses paths with Cregan, who is torn between the old ways and the Stark sense of honor.

- Dynamic: Cregan distrusts her magic but acknowledges her as a product of the North’s harsh realities. Thyra enjoys unsettling him, calling him "honorable to a fault," yet there is a flicker of recognition—he is everything she might have been, had life been kinder.

- Battle & Strategy: Cregan refuses to rely on magic, believing it dishonorable. Thyra, in turn, mocks his stubbornness, saying, "You think honor will shield you from a sword to the throat?" Despite their differences, she aids his forces—if only to remind the North that she is still one of them.

- Personal Moments:He sees the ghost of the girl she used to be, buried beneath madness and power. He attempts to ground her, but Thyra sneers at his efforts. "Save your pity, wolf. I drowned that girl long ago."

- Battle & Strategy: Jacaerys, ever the diplomatic leader, seeks to keep Thyra controlled. He tries to channel her powers toward strategy—spreading fear among the Greens rather than outright carnage. But Thyra, driven by vengeance, prefers destruction.

- Personal Moments: Jace respects her abilities but distrusts her lack of restraint. Thyra finds him too idealistic and enjoys testing his limits.

🐉 Rhaenys Targaryen – The Queen Who Never Was

- Battle & Strategy:Rhaenys sees Thyra as a dangerous wildcard, one that could turn the tide of battle but also backfire. She warns Rhaenyra to keep Thyra at a distance.

- Personal Moments:They have a mutual respect as women denied power. Rhaenys tells Thyra, "We are both creatures the world tried to drown. The difference is, I swam. You chose to sink." Thyra merely smirks and replies, "Perhaps I like the abyss."

☽༺The Greens༻☾

💚 Alicent Hightower – The Queen Regent

- First Meeting: Alicent is repulsed yet fascinated by tales of the witch who rose from death. The Hightower faith despises magic, but in desperation, she contemplates using Thyra to curse Rhaenyra.

- Dynamic: Alicent and Thyra are opposites—faith against sorcery, order against chaos. Thyra enjoys unsettling Alicent, whispering twisted truths in her ear just to see her squirm.

- Battle & Strategy: Alicent, deeply religious, sees Thyra as an abomination. However, in her darkest moments, she contemplates whether Thyra’s power could be wielded against Rhaenyra.

- Personal Moments:Thyra enjoys tormenting Alicent, whispering eerie prophecies in her ear just to unsettle her. Alicent, in turn, prays for Thyra’s soul—though she is certain it is already lost.

🍷Aegon II Targaryen – The Drunken King

First Interaction: Aegon first sees Thyra when she waltzes into the Red Keep, barefoot and grinning. "You’re not a king," she tells him. "You’re a joke the gods forgot to finish."

Escalation: Aegon is terrified of her yet strangely intrigued. He drinks too much and asks if she can make him invincible. Thyra chuckles and tells him he’s already dead—he just doesn’t know it yet.

💀 Aemond Targaryen – The One-Eyed Prince

- Battle & Strategy:Aemond sees Thyra as both a threat and a test of his strength. He wonders if her magic is stronger than his dragon. Thyra, in turn, enjoys provoking him, questioning whether Vhagar truly makes him powerful—or if he is just a lost boy playing war.

- Dynamic: Aemond is fascinated by her unnatural existence, while Thyra sees his pain and anger as a mirror of her own. They may share a mutual respect, but Thyra enjoys provoking him, testing the dragon in him just to see how far he’ll go.

- Personal Moments: They share a strange fascination. Aemond is drawn to her unpredictability, while Thyra sees his anger as a reflection of her own.

🔥 Helaena Targaryen – The Dreamer Queen

-First Meeting: Helaena dreams of a woman rising from the ice, golden runes glowing on her skin. When she sees Thyra in person, she murmurs, “The drowned witch who breathes again.”

-Dynamic: Thyra, despite her cruelty, finds Helaena oddly soothing. She sees her as someone untouched by the world's ugliness, and for that, she is both drawn to and repelled by her.

- Battle & Strategy: Helaena has dreams of Thyra long before they meet—visions of golden runes and a woman rising from ice. When they finally meet, she simply says, "You do not belong here."

- Personal Moments: Thyra finds herself unexpectedly drawn to Helaena’s innocence. Unlike others, Helaena does not fear or judge her. Thyra, for reasons even she doesn’t understand, cannot bring herself to harm her.

-Potential Outcome: Thyra may become protective of Helaena in an unexpected way—or she may see her as a tragic figure doomed to be swallowed by fate.

🐉 Criston Cole – The Kingmaker

- Battle & Strategy:Criston sees Thyra as a monster to be destroyed. Thyra, in turn, mocks his rigid beliefs, calling him "the fool who follows queens like a lost dog."

- Personal Moments:Their encounters are pure hostility. Criston refuses to acknowledge her as anything but an abomination, while Thyra enjoys breaking his sense of righteousness.

[guilore]

GIVE HER BACK TO ME 😭 TAKE CRISTON COLE PLEASE

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here, waiting for updates on the 999 fanfics I follow without thinking that people have to socialize, study, work, eat, go to the bathroom and sleep.

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╔═ஓ๑Fire&Fate๑ஓ═╗

‧₊˚✩Thyra Wittenberg X Rhaenyra Targaryen

Summary- A small meeting between the two women, doesn't have to do with my small project or anything.

Word count- 1k

Category: Not smut but not fluff either??

Thyra's story for anyone curious

The moon hung heavy over Dragonstone, its silver light spilling through the open balcony, painting the stone floor in pale streaks. The sea whispered below, its waves a distant murmur against the cliffs. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of burning herbs and salt, the remnants of some forgotten offering or a spell half-finished. Rhaenyra stood by the window, clad in a robe of black and red, her fingers tightening around the goblet in her grasp. She did not turn when she spoke.

"You should not be here."

Thyra, standing in the shadows, did not smile, though amusement flickered in the ice of her eyes. "And yet, here I am."

The words curled in the air like smoke, weightless yet suffocating. Rhaenyra exhaled slowly, as if steadying herself, before turning.

Thyra was as she remembered—unsettling, beautiful in a way that defied nature. The way she stood, too still, too silent, sent a shiver down Rhaenyra’s spine. The last time they had met, Thyra had been a whisper, a ghost of a woman who should have drowned but did not. And now she stood before her, a shadow crowned in silver light, draped in leathers and dark silk, her presence thick with something unnatural.

“You haunt me.” Rhaenyra’s voice was steady, though her fingers trembled slightly as she set her goblet down.

Thyra took a step closer. “I am no ghost.” Her voice was low, almost a purr, a dangerous thing that coiled around Rhaenyra’s spine like a serpent. “I am flesh and blood, Rhaenyra. Do you need proof?”

Rhaenyra did not retreat. She had never been one to cower, even when she should. “And if I did?”

Thyra tilted her head, eyes flickering with something dark and knowing. She was close now, close enough that the scent of sea brine and something metallic—blood, perhaps—lingered on her skin.

“Then take it.”

The challenge hung between them, thick as the storm that raged in Thyra’s veins. Rhaenyra’s breath hitched as cold fingers brushed against her jaw, trailing down, barely touching, but enough to set her skin alight.

“You are fire,” Thyra murmured. “And yet you let them try to smother you. Why?”

Rhaenyra’s fingers curled into fists. “You assume too much.”

Thyra leaned in, her lips barely ghosting against Rhaenyra’s ear. “And you lie too easily.”

A sharp breath, a shudder—not fear, not quite. Rhaenyra hated how well Thyra saw her, how she unraveled the truths she kept buried beneath duty and expectation.

Thyra’s lips traced a path down her throat, not quite kissing, just hovering, letting the promise of touch be more maddening than the act itself. Rhaenyra’s pulse hammered beneath her skin, her body taut like a bowstring, waiting, wanting.

“Do you fear me?” Thyra’s voice was soft, but the steel beneath it was unmistakable.

Rhaenyra swallowed hard, her hands finding purchase on Thyra’s arms, pressing, gripping. “No.”

Thyra’s fingers trailed lower, teasing, testing, her lips curling against Rhaenyra’s skin. “Then prove it.”

Rhaenyra’s breath came quicker now, anger and desire tangling in her chest. “You think you can waltz into my chambers, whisper riddles, and unravel me?”

Thyra smirked, a slow, knowing thing. “I think I already have.”

Rhaenyra’s nails dug into her arms, hard enough to leave marks. Thyra merely raised a brow, daring her, drinking in the sharp defiance, the simmering rage, the power that crackled between them like a coming storm.

“You are insufferable,” Rhaenyra hissed.

Thyra hummed, amused. “And you are desperate to know if I will burn.”

Their breaths mingled, the space between them nonexistent. Rhaenyra hated her in this moment—hated how easily Thyra drew her in, how she made her feel like a creature of instinct rather than a queen.

And yet, when Thyra finally, finally closed the last sliver of space between them, when lips met lips in something fierce and unyielding, Rhaenyra did not pull away.

The storm outside howled, but inside, the world burned.

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The fire had long since died in the hearth, leaving the room bathed in shadows and the lingering warmth of bodies that had fought as much as they had surrendered. Rhaenyra lay half-draped in furs, her skin still tingling from Thyra’s touch, from the imprint of her nails, the bite of her teeth.

She should have felt victorious, or satisfied, but instead, a slow frustration burned in her chest. Thyra lay beside her, a presence as calm as the sea before a storm, her fingers tracing idle patterns against Rhaenyra’s arm.

“You think this means you have won?” Rhaenyra murmured, voice thick with exhaustion and something dangerously close to longing.

Thyra chuckled, low and knowing. “You mistake me, Rhaenyra. This was never a game.”

Rhaenyra turned her head, studying the woman beside her—the witch who should have drowned, the monster who refused to stay dead. In the dim light, Thyra’s eyes gleamed, unsettling and unreadable, but Rhaenyra saw it now, the thing she had tried to deny.

This was not just desire. It was not just power clashing against power.

It was something deeper, darker. Something inevitable.

Thyra lifted a hand, brushing a strand of silver hair from Rhaenyra’s face, her touch uncharacteristically gentle. “You can fight it,” she murmured, “but you cannot outrun it.”

Rhaenyra closed her eyes, exhaling shakily.

She did not know if Thyra meant fate.

Or herself.

[guilore]

here’s how Daeron can still win

[guilore]

The Witch of Winter's Wake

Summary: A small story for my Hotd/Got character, Thyra Wittenberg, basically an introduction. Could count as a tiny itty bitty project I'm working on.

Thyra Wittenberg was a daughter of Rolland the Bloodlust Viking and Sierys, a woman whispered to have the blood of witches in her veins. She had a younger brother, a boy the village favored over her.

Her father fell in battle when she was sixteen, and the moment her mother heard of his death, she vanished like a ghost on the wind, leaving Thyra and her brother to fend for themselves. But Thyra had no interest in raising a child—not when the chieftain’s seat was at stake.

The village elders, bound by tradition, favored her brother, who was only twelve at the time. A boy was better than a woman, even if the woman had the fire of a warrior in her blood. But Thyra would not accept defeat. She clawed, schemed, and bartered for power, even selling her own body to those who could grant her influence. It was a sacrifice she had convinced herself was necessary—until the night she was betrayed.

She was meant to entertain one man that night. Then another came. And another. Shadows filled the hut like creeping death. But she caught the betrayal before it struck. In the polished surface of her goblet, she saw the reflection of a man raising a vase over her head, ready to knock her unconscious.

Survival was instinct. Without thinking, she reached for the dagger strapped to her thigh. A hand fisted in her long hair, but with a single slice, she severed it and ripped free from their grasp. She ran.

The winter air burned her lungs as she sprinted into the night, the sound of angry voices chasing her. She ran until she reached the frozen lake, a great black mirror under the moonlight. Without hesitation, she dropped to her knees and pounded her fists against the ice until it cracked, opening a jagged hole.

The water swallowed her whole.

Cold death embraced her, pulling her to the lake’s depths. Her heart stopped.

Her body remained beneath the ice, untouched, forgotten, until the thaw of spring.

And then something ancient stirred in her blood. The magic of her mother’s lineage, long dormant, awakened. Runes, bright as molten gold, burned into her skin, searing her flesh and reshaping her soul. The ice groaned and split as she emerged, her breath misting in the dawn air. She was no longer the girl who had drowned. She was something else. Something more.

The village would pay.

Thyra, reborn in death, embraced her true nature. No longer a mere chieftain’s daughter. No longer a girl clawing for power.

She was a witch. And she would carve her own legend into the bones of those who betrayed her.

[guilore]

[guilore]

─── ⋆⋅Mizu hc's⋅⋆ ───

I just finished watching the blue eyed samurai and oh lord I have so many things to write about!! This is my first ever post here so bare? Bear? with me and my broken English.

• I feel like it would take you a long time to get close with mizu, there would be times where you feel like you're both connecting but then Mizu would push you away (probably because she's scared and sometimes isn't good with communicating anymore, I'll write about it later)

• she definitely is awkward in the first few months, I think she would absolutely need long conversations with reassurance, showing that you love her despite everything.

• Prefers quality time, Mizu definitely likes that little spars between you two, or just long walks even if filled with comfortable silence.

• You'd need lots of patience. Like— A LOT. I mean it. You'd have to talk her through things, explain that you care and slowly build up that trust and connection. She'd still push you away at times and thus those talks.

• I literally do not understand why people portray her as a massive cold masc. Like— give my girl flowers. I'm sure she'd love it, even little trinkets bought or made, Mizu would appreciate each of them.

• Has the most gentle touch ever, like god's— her calloused hands touch you so softly, as if she's scared to break you. Her hands killed so many so she's extra careful with you. Gentle kisses on your forehead (a rare occurrence with mizu) or just holding your hand.

• she'd be awkward with complementing you(it'll pass after time and believe me she'll get shameless whatsoever but only in private). The most heard one would be "You look... pretty" or beautiful when she's mesmerised with you.

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I'll probably be adding more if I think of any or just make parts? Dunno yet but hey— I posted! First time ever<⁠(⁠￣⁠︶⁠￣⁠)⁠>