#MACE OF THE BLACK CROWN

[ihaveatypeanditstrickstergods]

I was looking up one of the Arms of the Betrayers for. Reasons. And there's a chart on ways that they could potentially be destroyed:

Imagine being on a quest to destroy the Mace of the Black Crown.

[blorbologist]

hey there's something about how in Zerxus' stained glass exposition, the Ring of Brass all look... subdued. remorseful.

Is this how he remembers them? At the end? Not the confident, powerful portraits we are presented with during Calamity?

and of course, the missing sixth member (not depicted with the ring, separate from his friends...) with the Mace of the Black Crown vs his Holy Avenger...

[angelofdumpsterfires]

i love all the details in zerxus’s lair; the chandelier is shaped like the mace of the black crown, he even has a big tapestry of tempus!

[novaursa]

Legacy (dragon in the garden)

- Summary: Tywin was the man who saved you from Robert's wrath. He was also the man who doomed you.

- Pairing: targ!reader/Tywin Lannister

- Note: Once more, be aware of time jumps and how canon events and the timeline don't match the plot of the story.

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Previous part: the dawn

- Next part: future of the realm

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround @luniaxi

The memory came to Tywin Lannister unbidden, like a faint whisper carried on the wind as he rode through Highgarden’s fragrant gardens. The sights and scents of the Reach stirred something deep within him, a reminder of another time, long before the crown’s descent into chaos and ruin.

It was a warm day, the kind that Highgarden seemed to conjure effortlessly. The castle was alive with color, the gardens bursting with blooms of every hue. Tywin had ridden at the head of King Aerys II’s grand procession, the gold of House Lannister glittering beside the red and black banners of the Targaryens. At the time, Tywin had still been the Hand of the King, and though his duties weighed heavily on him, there was a quiet pride in his station.

He remembered the moment he first saw her during that visit. She was only a girl then, with her silver-gold hair glinting in the sunlight like threads of moonlight. She moved with an elegance beyond her years, a natural grace that captivated everyone who saw her. Lords and ladies alike were drawn to her like moths to a flame.

Tywin had stood on a shaded terrace, observing the gathering below. King Aerys, resplendent in his black and red robes, sat on a dais, his expression a mask of smug satisfaction as his courtiers fawned over him. Beside him stood his daughter, the Princess Y/N, who charmed the assembled lords with her sharp wit and radiant smile.

Tywin’s memory sharpened, focusing on a specific moment. Lord Mace Tyrell, younger and more eager then, had approached the princess with a bouquet of roses, his cheeks flushed with youthful enthusiasm.

“For you, Princess,” Mace had said, bowing deeply as he presented the flowers. “The most beautiful roses in all the Reach, for the most beautiful lady in the realm.”

Tywin had watched as the princess accepted the gesture with a polite smile, though there was a flicker of amusement in her violet eyes. “Thank you, Lord Tyrell,” she said graciously. “The roses are lovely, but I suspect the gardeners deserve more credit than you.”

The gathered nobles had laughed politely, and Mace had flushed even deeper, stammering a reply that Tywin couldn’t recall. What he did remember, however, was the way her gaze had briefly lifted to meet his own, her smile faltering for the briefest of moments. It was as though she had sensed his presence, even from across the crowd.

Later that evening, during the banquet held in Highgarden’s great hall, Tywin had found himself seated near her. Aerys, in one of his rare moments of lucidity, had boasted of his daughter’s intelligence and charm, praising her as the jewel of House Targaryen. Tywin had offered a measured response, careful not to provoke the king’s volatile temper.

“You must be very proud, Your Grace,” Tywin had said. “The princess embodies the strength and beauty of her house.”

Aerys had preened at the compliment, though his attention quickly shifted elsewhere. The princess, however, had glanced at Tywin, her expression thoughtful.

“You flatter me, Lord Lannister,” she had said softly, her voice steady and composed. “But I suspect you do not offer such praise lightly.”

Tywin had inclined his head, acknowledging her perceptiveness. “No, I do not,” he had replied simply.

The memory shifted again, to a quieter moment in the gardens the next day. He had found her there, surrounded by a cluster of children from noble houses, all vying for her attention. When she saw him, she had risen gracefully and dismissed the others with a kind word, leaving them to scamper off among the flowers.

“Lord Hand,” she had greeted him, her tone polite but curious. “To what do I owe the honor?”

“I came to see the gardens,” Tywin had replied, though they both knew it was a lie. He had no interest in flowers or idle strolls. He had wanted to see her, to understand the unique blend of strength and warmth that set her apart from the rest of her family.

“You don’t strike me as a man who enjoys gardens,” she had said, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “They require patience.”

Tywin had allowed a rare smile of his own, though it was brief. “Patience is not a virtue I cultivate easily,” he had admitted. “But even I can recognize beauty when I see it.”

The memory faded as Tywin’s horse came to a stop before Highgarden’s grand gates. He blinked, the present rushing back to him with the murmur of his guards and the rustling of banners in the wind. His gaze shifted to the carriage behind him, where she now sat with their son, a living testament to the choices and sacrifices that had brought them here.

Highgarden had been the site of many memories, but this visit was different. It was no longer about the past or the ambitions of a mad king. Now, it was about legacy—his legacy. And for the first time in years, Tywin felt a flicker of something unfamiliar: hope.

Mace Tyrell rode alongside Tywin at the head of the procession, his green and gold attire vibrant in the sunlight. He gestured animatedly as he spoke, his voice carrying over the steady clatter of hooves. Tywin, as always, remained composed, offering only curt nods and the occasional word in response to Mace’s enthusiastic chatter. Beside them, Ser Barristan rode in quiet vigilance, his sharp eyes scanning the path ahead.

Behind them, the carriage carrying you, Damon, and Lady Olenna followed. The crowds lining the road murmured in anticipation, their curiosity piqued by the sight of the Lannister-Targaryen union and the young heir.

Inside the carriage, you adjusted Damon in your arms, his tiny hands reaching for the folds of your gown. He gurgled softly, oblivious to the spectacle outside. Olenna, seated across from you, smirked as she peered out the window. “The Reach loves a good show,” she remarked dryly. “And this one promises to be quite the spectacle.”

You glanced out the window, your expression composed despite the flutter of nerves in your chest. The sight of so many eyes fixed on the carriage was both unsettling and humbling. “Let them look,” you said softly. “If they wish to see a Targaryen, they may.”

The carriage rolled to a stop, and moments later, a footman opened the door. Tywin dismounted from his horse, his movements precise as he stepped forward to offer you his hand. Taking it, you descended gracefully, holding Damon close to your chest. The whispers among the crowd grew louder at the sight of you, their admiration and curiosity palpable.

Mace stepped forward, his arms outstretched in a gesture of welcome. “Lord Tywin! Lady Y/N! What an honor it is to have you here in Highgarden!” His gaze flickered briefly to Damon, and his smile widened. “And the young heir to Casterly Rock—what a fine boy!”

“Lord Tyrell,” Tywin said, his voice steady and polite as he inclined his head. “Your hospitality is appreciated.”

Mace’s attention shifted to you, his expression one of exaggerated delight. “My lady, you grace Highgarden with your presence. Truly, it is a sight to behold—a Targaryen among us!”

You inclined your head gracefully, a faint smile on your lips. “Highgarden is as beautiful as I have always heard, Lord Tyrell. It is an honor to be your guest.”

Olenna descended from the carriage next, her sharp gaze taking in the scene with thinly veiled amusement. “Mace, don’t stand there gawking like a fool. Let the lady and her child breathe.”

Mace chuckled nervously but stepped aside, gesturing toward the entrance. “Of course, of course! Please, come inside. The finest rooms have been prepared for your stay.”

As you walked beside Tywin, Damon nestled securely in your arms, you couldn’t help but notice the way the crowd’s eyes followed you. Murmurs of admiration and curiosity rippled through them, their gazes lingering on Damon’s silver-gold hair and violet eyes. You caught snippets of their whispers—"A true dragon,” “How beautiful,” “Lannister and Targaryen blood united.”

Once inside the grand hall, Mace continued to prattle about the preparations made in your honor. “We’ve spared no expense! The feast tonight will be one to remember. And the gardens, my lady—you simply must see them. They are in full bloom.”

You nodded politely, though your attention was divided between Mace’s words and the quiet exchange of glances between Tywin and Olenna. Both were masters of subtlety, their unspoken calculations nearly palpable as they sized up one another.

As you reached the rooms prepared for you, Mace gestured grandly. “Here we are! I trust you’ll find everything to your liking.”

Tywin offered a curt nod. “Thank you, Lord Tyrell.”

Mace lingered for a moment longer, as if hoping for further praise, but Olenna’s pointed clearing of her throat sent him scurrying off to oversee the feast preparations. Once the door closed behind him, you turned to Tywin, your expression unreadable.

“They are eager to please,” you remarked softly, adjusting Damon as he began to fuss.

“They’re eager to gain favor,” Tywin replied, his voice cool. “Do not mistake hospitality for selflessness.”

Olenna chuckled, settling into a nearby chair. “Oh, Tywin, you’re as charming as ever. But he’s right, my dear,” she said, looking at you. “Highgarden is a lovely cage, but a cage nonetheless.”

You met Olenna’s gaze and then Tywin’s, your resolve firm. “Perhaps. But even a cage can offer opportunities.”

Tywin studied you for a moment, his expression thoughtful. “You’ve been planning something.”

You didn’t deny it, offering only a faint smile. “I will let you know when the time is right.”

As the evening approached, the promise of a feast loomed large, but your thoughts lingered on the whispers of High Heart and the call that refused to be ignored. Highgarden was only the beginning, and you were determined to uncover the truths that awaited you.

The room assigned to you in Highgarden was as opulent as one would expect from the seat of House Tyrell. The walls were adorned with rich tapestries depicting scenes of bountiful harvests and the famed roses of the Reach, while the windows offered a stunning view of the lush gardens below. The scent of blooming flowers drifted in through the open window, mingling with the faint sound of birdsong.

You sat on a plush chaise near the window, Damon cradled in your arms. The boy was content, his hair catching the late afternoon sunlight as he cooed and gurgled softly. Tywin stood nearby, his gaze distant as he surveyed the room. He had removed his armor and donned simpler, yet still impeccably tailored, attire, the weight of command momentarily lifted from his shoulders.

“It hasn’t changed much,” he said after a long silence, his voice carrying a rare softness. He stepped closer, his sharp green eyes meeting yours briefly before flicking to the gardens beyond the window. “Highgarden looks as it did the last time we were here.”

You looked up, curious. “The last time?”

He nodded, a faint shadow of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “It was many years ago, during the height of your father’s reign. I accompanied him on a royal progress to the Reach. You were there, a young princess, adored by everyone.”

You tilted your head slightly, surprised by the memory. “I barely recall ever visiting Highgarden with my father.”

Tywin’s expression shifted, a touch of amusement glinting in his eyes. “That’s because you spent most of your time in the gardens, surrounded by admirers. Lord Mace was barely more than a boy himself then, but he and his sisters followed you around like devoted attendants.”

A small laugh escaped you, the image vivid despite your lack of recollection. “I can imagine. Mace still carries that same eagerness, though now he directs it toward his endless attempts to curry favor.”

Tywin’s gaze softened further as he continued, his voice tinged with nostalgia. “You were the centerpiece of every gathering. Even your father seemed proud in those moments, though he scarcely showed it. The lords and ladies were enamored with you, charmed by your wit and grace. I remember thinking then…” He paused, his words trailing off.

“What did you think?” you prompted gently, your eyes searching his face.

He met your gaze, the weight of unspoken thoughts evident in his expression. “I thought that your father did not deserve you as a daughter. That you were too bright, too capable to be overshadowed by his madness.”

The sincerity in his words left you momentarily speechless. Damon squirmed in your arms, breaking the silence, and you smiled down at him before replying. “I never knew you thought that way. Back then, I was just a girl, oblivious to much of what was happening around me.”

“You were a girl,” Tywin acknowledged. “But even then, you carried yourself with a dignity far beyond your years. It was why the lords adored you—and why your father sought to keep you close.”

You looked away, the bittersweet memories of your father stirring uneasily within you. “He kept me close because I was useful to him,” you said quietly. “A tool to be married off, just like Rhaegar.”

Tywin’s jaw tightened, his gaze hardening. “You were no tool. Not to me.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, heavy with implications. You met his gaze once more, searching for the deeper meaning behind them. “And yet, here we are,” you said softly. “Bound by necessity, much like those days.”

Tywin stepped closer, his hand resting on the back of the chaise. “Necessity, perhaps,” he said, his voice low, “but not without purpose. What we have built is more than circumstance. It is strength, and it is enduring.”

Damon let out a soft coo, his tiny hand reaching upward. Tywin’s expression shifted slightly, the faintest trace of warmth softening his features as he leaned down to brush his fingers over the boy’s hair. “He is proof of that.”

You smiled faintly, watching as Damon’s small hand grasped Tywin’s finger. “He is our future,” you agreed, your voice steady. “And I will do everything in my power to protect him.”

“As will I,” Tywin said firmly, his tone leaving no room for doubt.

For a moment, the three of you remained in quiet companionship, the past blending seamlessly with the present. Highgarden’s beauty and the memories it evoked were undeniable, but the strength of your family, forged in the fires of adversity, was what truly grounded you.

Tywin straightened, his commanding presence reasserting itself. “Rest while you can. The feast tonight will demand much of your energy.”

You inclined your head, watching as he moved toward the door. Before he left, he glanced back, his expression unreadable. “The lords of the Reach may admire roses,” he said, his voice quiet but firm, “but even they know the value of a dragon.”

As the door closed behind him, you looked down at Damon, his eyes staring up at you with innocent curiosity. The weight of Tywin’s words settled over you, a reminder of your purpose and the strength you would need to navigate the challenges ahead.

The gardens of Highgarden were a masterpiece of design and nature, a testament to the wealth and refinement of House Tyrell. Lush greenery stretched as far as the eye could see, interspersed with vibrant flowers in every hue imaginable. Fountains burbled softly, and the air was rich with the scent of roses and lavender.

You sat beneath the shade of a sprawling oak, Damon cradled in your arms the next day. His tiny hands reaching for the petals of a rose you held just out of his grasp. His silver-gold hair gleamed in the dappled sunlight, and his violet eyes, flecked with pale green, seemed to captivate everyone who looked at him.

Lady Olenna Tyrell sat beside you, her sharp gaze surveying the small crowd of noblewomen who had gathered nearby. They hovered at a respectful distance, their murmurs and admiring glances directed at Damon.

“He’s a handsome boy,” one of the ladies said softly, her voice carrying just enough for you to hear. “A true Targaryen, isn’t he?”

“And a Lannister,” another added, her tone tinged with awe. “Such a combination… it’s no wonder he’s destined for greatness.”

Olenna smirked, leaning slightly on her walking stick as she addressed you. “It seems your son is already causing a stir, my dear. Not that I’m surprised.”

You adjusted Damon in your arms, your gaze sweeping over the ladies before returning to Olenna. “It’s as you said—symbols and pawns. They see him as both.”

“They see him as a future king,” Olenna corrected, her voice low and pointed. “Even if that’s not what your husband has in mind. The boy’s blood is enough to set tongues wagging from here to King’s Landing.”

You didn’t respond immediately, your focus shifting to Damon, who was now giggling at the rose in your hand. His laughter was light and innocent, a stark contrast to the weight of the expectations already being placed upon him.

One of the braver ladies stepped forward, curtseying deeply before addressing you. “My lady, your son is truly a wonder. May we approach to offer our congratulations?”

You inclined your head gracefully, your expression composed. “Of course.”

The small group of women moved closer, their eyes fixed on Damon with a mixture of admiration and reverence. One of them, a young lady with dark hair, smiled as she spoke. “He has the look of both his houses. The strength of the lion and the beauty of the dragon.”

Olenna chuckled softly, her sharp wit laced with amusement. “A fine compliment, though I doubt the boy is concerned with such things. He’s more interested in that rose, it seems.”

The ladies laughed politely, their attention still on Damon as he cooed and reached for the flower again. You allowed yourself a small smile, though your mind remained guarded.

Another lady, older and more forthright, leaned in slightly. “My lady, may I ask… does Lord Tywin often dote upon the boy? It is rare to see him so taken with anyone, even his own blood.”

Olenna raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained by the question. You glanced at her briefly before replying. “Lord Tywin values legacy above all else. Damon represents that legacy, as well as the unity of our houses. He is proud, as any father would be.”

“And you, my lady?” the older woman pressed. “Are you content?”

Before you could respond, Olenna intervened with a sly smile. “Contentment is a luxury few of us can afford, wouldn’t you agree?”

The ladies chuckled nervously, unsure how to interpret Olenna’s remark. You took the opportunity to shift the conversation, your tone calm but firm. “I am fortunate to have a healthy son and a husband who values family. That is enough for me.”

The group murmured their agreement, though you could sense their curiosity lingered. Damon squirmed in your arms, drawing your attention back to him. His tiny hand brushed against the rose, and you finally relented, letting him grasp it carefully.

Olenna watched the scene with a softening expression, though her sharp tongue wasn’t far behind. “If only the rest of us could quiet a crowd with a single smile,” she said dryly. “You and your son have quite the effect on people.”

You looked at her, your lips curving into a faint smile. “It’s not the first time I’ve been surrounded by admirers in a garden.”

Olenna chuckled, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Touché, my dear. Touché.”

The ladies eventually drifted away, leaving you and Olenna in relative peace. Damon, still clutching the rose, began to drift off to sleep in your arms. The sight of his tiny form, so vulnerable and full of promise, filled you with a fierce determination.

“He’s the future, you know,” Olenna said quietly, her tone unusually gentle. “Not just for your house, but for all of us. Make sure he’s ready.”

“I will,” you replied, your voice steady. “No matter what it takes.”

Olenna nodded, satisfied.

The forest was quiet except for the rustling of leaves and the crackling of the small fire at the center of their camp. Arya Stark sat cross-legged on the ground, sharpening Needle with slow, deliberate strokes. The Brotherhood Without Banners moved about the clearing, preparing for the night. Hot Pie was stirring a pot of stew, its savory scent wafting through the crisp evening air, while Gendry was busy repairing a dent in his helm.

The chatter among the men was subdued until one of them, Tom of Sevenstreams, leaned closer to the fire, his voice carrying a note of curiosity. “Have you heard the latest from the Reach? Highgarden’s been bustling with nobles, all of them clamoring for a glimpse of the dragon babe.”

Arya’s hand froze mid-stroke. Her sharp gray eyes flicked to Tom, her heart skipping a beat. She forced herself to keep her expression neutral as she asked, “What dragon babe?”

Tom glanced at her, surprised by her sudden interest. “The Targaryen princess,” he said, as though it were common knowledge. “Or should I say, Lady Lannister now. She’s Tywin’s wife, isn’t she? Gave him a son not long ago—silver hair, violet eyes, the whole dragon’s brood look.”

Gendry looked up from his work, frowning. “A Targaryen? Married to Tywin Lannister? That’s mad.”

“Mad, maybe,” Tom said with a shrug, “but true. They say the boy’s got both lion and dragon in him. The nobles are calling him the future of the realm.”

Arya’s grip tightened on Needle. Her chest felt tight, her mind racing as memories of the reader flooded her thoughts. The woman who had been like a second mother to her, who had taught her to wield a needle of a different kind, who had comforted her during her worst moments in Winterfell—and later, the woman she had tried to save at Harrenhal, only to watch Tywin take her to King’s Landing.

Hot Pie, oblivious to Arya’s inner turmoil, ladled some stew into a wooden bowl and handed it to Gendry. “Didn’t think dragons and lions could make a cub together,” he said, his brow furrowed in confusion.

Gendry smirked. “Guess they can now.”

Tom continued, his tone conspiratorial. “They say she’s still as regal as ever, even with all that’s happened. And Tywin—well, he dotes on her, or so the rumors go. But the boy, now he’s the real talk of the realm. The lords and ladies are already whispering about alliances.”

Arya couldn’t stay silent any longer. “What else have you heard about her?” she asked, her voice sharper than she intended.

Tom raised an eyebrow at her intensity. “Not much beyond that. She’s at Highgarden now, with Tywin and the boy. They say she keeps to herself, but when she does speak, people listen. Why? You know her or something?”

Gendry glanced at Arya curiously, noting the way her jaw tightened and her eyes darted back to her blade. “The lady from Harrenhal.”

Arya hesitated, then nodded. “She lived in Winterfell,” she said quietly, her voice tinged with emotion she couldn’t quite suppress. “She’s… like family.”

Hot Pie’s spoon froze mid-air, stew dripping back into the pot. “Wait, you’re saying there is more to that Targaryen lady. Like, you know her know her?.”

Arya glared at him. “She’s not just a Targaryen. She’s a Stark, too. She raised Jon, taught me and Sansa things… She was there when my brothers were born. She’s family. I’ve told you that already.”

Hot Pie blinked, trying to process the information once more. “That’s why you were so worked up at Harrenhal, wasn’t it? When Tywin took her?”

Arya’s expression darkened. “Yes,” she said simply. “I tried to save her. I thought I could get her out before they took her to King’s Landing, but Tywin had too many guards, and she…” Her voice trailed off, the frustration of that memory still fresh in her mind.

Gendry frowned, his brows furrowing. “And now she’s married to Tywin Lannister,” he said softly. “That must be… hard to hear.”

Arya’s grip on Needle tightened until her knuckles turned white. “It doesn’t matter,” she said, though her voice trembled slightly. “She’s doing what she has to, just like all of us.”

Tom, sensing the tension, shifted uncomfortably. “Well, from what I’ve heard, she’s doing all right for herself. She’s protected, and her son—”

“She doesn’t need Tywin to protect her,” Arya snapped, cutting him off. “She’s stronger than any of them.”

Hot Pie cleared his throat, trying to lighten the mood. “Well, maybe she’ll get away, like you did. Maybe she’ll come back to us.”

Arya didn’t answer. She stared into the fire, her mind racing with possibilities. She thought of Y/N, of Damon, of the tangled web of alliances and betrayals that now surrounded them. Deep down, she knew that nothing would ever be the same—but she also knew that the woman she remembered was still in there somewhere, fighting her own battles in the heart of the enemy’s lair.

“I hope so,” Arya mutterted under her breath, her resolve hardening as she returned to sharpening Needle. She would find a way to make things right, no matter how long it took.

[the-mortuary-witch]

ASMODEUS

WHO IS HE?

Asmodeus, also known as Ashmodai, Asmody, Asmoday; appears as a Great King 'Asmoday' in the Ars Goetia, where he is said to have a seal in gold and is listed as number thirty-two according to respective rank. He is strong, powerful and appears with three heads; the first is like a bull, the second like a man, and the third like a ram or a goat; the tail of a serpent, and from his mouth issue flames of fire." Also, he sits upon an infernal dragon, holds a lance with a banner, and amongst the Legions of Amaymon, Asmoday governs seventy two legions of Spirits.

Asmodeus is one of the “seven princes of hell,” a demon whose wickedness is matched only by his talent. He specializes in spreading lust, and he doesn’t just prey on common people. Kings, Queens, and even divine beings have been affected by his touch.

BASIC INFO:

Appearance: a strong and attractive young man with shoulder-length black hair, fiery orange-yellow eyes (like burning embers), black draconic wings, and ram horns. When angered, his hair catches in flames and burns to become short, blazing like embers. His horns become more prominent, and his eyes become even more fiery. He goes into battle with a staff or sword commonly, but sometimes with a mace. The dragon he is sometimes seen riding is a trusted friend of his from ages past. He can also appear as a bull or ram, which are aspects of his. His traditional art which shows him as having three heads is simply a symbolization of this. 

Personality: Asmodeus is tremendously strong at heart and holds a great deal of wisdom and passion. Overall, he has a very resilient and noble attitude, and is also connected to lust and domination, as he indulges in sexual pleasures. Asmodeus enjoys luxury and sensuality, but can also be very dark and serious when needed, and can become quickly impatient with those who earn his disfavour. He can also feel war-like at times, but in a way that is similar to heroism. But his darker side, however, is called Asmodai, who is one of the most destructive and terrifying of all the demons.

Asmodeus is a master of emotions and knows how to rapidly gain favour by playing to the emotions of crowds, masses, or even single persons. He doesn’t have to lie, he simply uses emotional reasoning to appeal to peoples’ hearts in order to be convincing. He tends to be very kind-hearted, loyal, passionate, and steadfast. 

Symbols: upside down red pentagram, cards, snake, crown, scorpion, seal of Asmodeus, money, the element air, and gambling

King of: demons, lust, passion, sex, valour, inner-strength, knowledge, craftsmanship, and the pursuit of power.

Culture: Demonic

Plants: rose, mint, sunflower, blackthorn tree, mandrake root, belladonna, nightshade, yew tree, lavender, poppy, cypress tree, jasmine, and snakewood tree

Crystals: leopards skin jasper, carnelian, peridot, ruby, cinnabar, black tourmaline, red jasper, and garnet

Animals: bull, snake, scorpion, ram, cats, and rooster

Incense: frankincense, rose, vanilla, cinnamon, and dragons blood

Practices: sex magick, healing (especially from sexual trauma), curses and hexes, justice, protection, banishing negativity, and relationship magick

Colours: red, black, yellow, and silver

Numbers: 32 and 3

Zodiac: Aquarius

Tarot: The Devil, King Of Wands, and 6 Of Swords

Planet: Venus

Days: Friday (Friday the 13th as well), full moons, Lupercalia, Beltane, and Litha

Parents: Agrat bat Mahlat and King David

Siblings: N/A

Partner: Bensozia, Lilith, Sarah (the daughter of Raguel), and possibly many other demons and spirits

Children: N/A

MISC:

• Lust and carnal desires: Asmodeus is said to have great power over matters of lust and sexuality, and is often depicted as a seducer and temptress.

• Love and passion: he is believed to be able to stir up powerful emotions of love and passion in humans, leading them astray from their true path.

• Sexuality and physicality: Asmodeus is associated with the physical realm and is said to have great understanding and influence over the physical body.

• Material wealth and luxury: sometimes portrayed as a being of great material wealth and luxury, and is often depicted surrounded by opulence and excess.

• Power and authority: Asmodeus is a high-ranking demon in the hierarchy of hell, and is believed to have significant power and influence over humans and other supernatural creatures.

•’Use of seductive and manipulative techniques: Asmodeus is known for using charm, persuasion, and deception to achieve his goals and manipulate others.

FACTS ABOUT ASMODEUS:

He HATES water, shellfish, seafood (especially fish), complaining, and pettiness.

Known for his gambling or being over gambling.

He is also associated with music, battles, and vengeance.

He rules over the gambling houses of Hell and can bestow luck in gambling and loves to play poker and blackjack in the astral with his practitioners.

Can be invoked to help with justice or vengeance spells.

He dislikes birds, but likes cats.

HOW TO INVOKE ASMODEUS:

When working with Asmodeus, it’s important to approach him with respect and caution. Remember that he is a powerful demon and should be treated as such. Be open to receiving his gifts of passion, sex, valour, inner-strength, and more, but also be prepared for his darker side. If you’re looking to connect with Asmodeus on a deeper level, try meditating with his enn (Ayen avage aloren Asmoday aken) or creating a sigil in his honor. And always remember to thank him for his gifts and offerings.

Here are some additional tips for working with Asmodeus:

Build a relationship: Like any deity, building a relationship with Asmodeus takes time and effort. Try making regular offerings or dedicating a space in your home to him. You can also try researching more about his history and lore to deepen your connection with him.

Focus on inner strength: Asmodeus is known for his rulerships of inner strength, which can come in handy when facing obstacles or challenges in life. Try working with him to cultivate this quality within yourself, and remember to thank him for his guidance.

Use protection spells: Asmodeus can also be called upon for protection, especially in matters of the heart. Try creating a protection spell or talisman with his sigil to ward off negativity and attract positive energy.

Connect with sexuality: Asmodeus is strongly connected to sexuality, making him a great deity to work with for matters of the heart and relationships. Try connecting with him through sexual energy or using his energy to enhance your own passion and desires.

Always show respect: When working with Asmodeus, it’s important to always show respect and approach him with caution. He is a powerful demon, and should be treated with the reverence and respect that he deserves.

Another fun way to work with Asmodeus is to create a vision board that reflects his rulerships. Cut out pictures and phrases that represent passion, sex, valour, and inner-strength, and arrange them on a board or piece of paper. Place this vision board on your altar or carry it with you as a reminder of the gifts you’re seeking from Asmodeus.

PRAYER FOR ASMODEUS:

Oh mighty King Asmodeus, ruler of the underworld and master of the infernal realms, I call upon you in this moment. I beseech thee to draw near and manifest your presence before me.

By your divine power and authority, I seek your guidance, protection, and assistance in the matters that concern me.

I acknowledge your greatness and offer my respect and devotion to you.Hail Asmodeus, King of the Fire and Ruler of the Underworld!

SIGNS THAT ASMODEUS IS CALLING YOU:

He shows up in your dreams.

Shows up as the King of Wands when using tarot cards.

Feeling of being watched or accompanied by a supernatural presence when alone.

Seeing or drawing toward animals associated with him (bulls, snakes, scorpions, rams, cats, and/or roosters).

Unusual dreams or vivid visions, often involving themes of love, lust, or sensuality.

Experiencing feelings of intense desire, passion, seductive, or sexual energy (in my personal experience).

Feeling a sense of connection or communication with a supernatural entity or presence, especially during meditations or rituals.

A sudden need or desire to explore darker or taboo aspects of your personality or desires.

Feeling a stronger connection to the elements of fire or earth.

Observing unusual synchronicities or patterns in your life that remind you of him.

OFFERINGS:

Images or drawings of bulls, snakes, scorpions, rams, and roosters.

Cards.

Incense: frankincense, rose, vanilla, cinnamon, and dragons blood. 

Dice. 

Gold jewelry. 

Food and drinks: pineapple, oat meat, alcohol (red wine, spiced rum, and whiskey), spicy food, cloves, pastries, cakes, lemons, chestnuts, black coffee, limes, honey, chocolate, and homemade lemonade. 

Bull, ram, or narwhal horns. 

Musky cologne. 

Sunflowers. 

Red, black, yellow, or silver candles. 

Crystals: leopards skin jasper, carnelian, peridot, ruby, cinnabar, black tourmaline, red jasper, and garnet. 

Weapons: maces, axes, and ornate swords. 

Menstrual blood (if your relationship is deepened with him, and you're comfortable doing so).

Money. 

Anything cinnamon scented. 

DEVOTIONAL ACTS:

Participating in activities that he may appreciate, such as creative pursuits or pursuits of power and control.

Boundary work. 

Working towards personal goals and desires related to sexuality, power, and success. 

Practice loving yourself. 

Making a meal in his name. 

Shadow work. 

Learning to stand up for yourself and others. 

Create a playlist with songs that remind you of him.

Lighting a candle or incense in honour of Him. 

Stand up for those who need it. 

Coming to terms with your sexuality. 

Body worship. 

Sexually please yourself/explore and know your body.

Make love/have sex.

Offer your love and lust energy. 

[reiinai]

For @artists-guild-of-exandria Calamity project:

The enrinys Xartaza, soul of the Mace of the Black Crown.

[transdimensional-void]

baelor breakspear at the tourney at ashford meadows

something that stood out to me about the manner of baelor's death at the tourney is how reminiscent it is of rhaegar's death at the trident.

rhaegar wore black armor with a red dragon on the breastplate. baelor wore black armor with a red dragon on the helmet.

rhaegar was killed by his cousin, who was able to become king due to rhaegar's death. baelor was killed by his brother, who was able to become king due to baelor's death.

rhaegar was killed by a hammer strike to the chest, where he wore a dragon decoration. baelor was killed by a mace strike to the head, where he wore a dragon decoration.

there are also other parallels between the two. rhaegar's wife was a martell princess. baelor's mother was a martell princess.

both were targaryen crown princes for whom there were high hopes, and both of their deaths were seen as a great tragedy for the dynasty.

it's also notable that baelor's name is linked to the story of bael the bard, yet nothing we know about baelor himself calls to mind any part of that myth, except perhaps the part about him being murdered by a family member. rhaegar, on the other hand, is one of the series's best-known bael the bard figures.

and this is particularly interesting for the ashford tourney theory, which posits that the ashford maiden's champions at the end of the first day parallel sansa's suitors in asoiaf...and foreshadow a final, targaryen suitor. if baelor is meant to call to mind rhaegar, then it seems very likely that baelor's son, valarr, is meant to call to mind rhaegar's son...

[hugemilkshake]

I got an idea...based off something I read off tumblr in the cookie run x reader thing. A fic about y/n being taken into the kingdom as their ruler and pure vanilla helped them with the difficult part of ruling and stuff...a crazy idea if ya want a kingdom of yanderes:

Y/n was taken into the kingdom and was crowned ruler...but they don't ACTUALLY RULE! From the outside the kingdom, it looks like y/n is making the rules and making the decisions and stuff...

But th truth? The cookies are the ones making up the rules and y/n's job is to just sit there with that cute crown on their head while the cookies spoil y/n with attention, affection, anything they desire...but won't let y/n leave the kingdom for their safety and the cookie's obsession. Reason they crowned y/n as a ruler? An excuse to keep em in the castle so others don't ask questions.

Enjoy the milkshake! I’m putting some characters that we don’t see that often since I miss them

A false ruler

-platonic-

Pt 2

This is a little longer than what I usually write

You ran as fast as your legs could take you. You don’t remember what brought you to this moment but you couldn’t look back. There are cake monsters chasing after you, and you have no way to defend yourself.

The more you ran, the more you began to tire out. You didn’t think you were going to see another day when you heard… something..

Music

Music meant potential help. And potential help was what you needed at this moment, so you made a dash for the music.

You broke through the foliage only to see a group of cookies, the one sitting on a tree stump abruptly stopping his music. Now you would great them and tell them what’s wrong but your vision began to blur a while ago and your world had finally gone to black.

—————————————

Clover Cookie was a bit stunned at seeing a cookie collapse in front of him, so was Purple Yam and Milk Cookie. But the snarling of cake monsters gave some, but very little clarity.

And as suddenly as you fell, Purple Yam Cookie sprinted through into the foliage, the sounds of commotion could be heard, indicating that he started a fight.

On the other hand, Milk Cookie was helping this mystery cookie out of the foliage and away from Purple Yams unchecked wrath.

“Are.. they okay?” Clover Cookie took a cautious step forward as Milk Cookie assessed the passed out cookie. “They should be, they seemed to have exhausted themselves. The just need some rest”

Clover Cookie took a sigh of relief, he was glad that they weren’t dead, something about them was… intriguing.

—————————————

You woke up and winced at the brightness of the sun. You heard a calm voiced cookie saying something around the lines of “they’re awake!” And another voice- in a more aggressive tone saying some sort of snarky comment.

Once your eyes adjusted to the light you saw a cookie with curly white hair looming above you. This made you jump and sit up quickly, only for pain to ripple through out your dough.

The curly haired cookie immediately jumped back, either shocked or panicked that you were able to sit up so quickly. Despite the pain in your dough you backed away until you hit another cookie.

“HEY!” The cookie barked, he was broad with purple dough and was honestly quite intimidating… especially with the icing and jam he was wiping off his face and mace…

This caused you yelp and stand up and stumbled backwards. You tripped over a log, injuring yourself more.

The cookie in white tried to step towards you but was to focused on trying to prevent the purple guy from attacking you.

You soon felt a cookie kneel next to you and speak to you in a calm, melody like voice. “Hey… take a deep breath, we’re not going to hurt you”

You felt your heart rate slow down and your anxiety lessen, you were still injured and what happened. You wanted to speak but you couldn’t form any words, the cookie next to you softy smiled understanding what your trying to do

“I’m Clover Cookie, over there is Purple Yam and Milk Cookie. You stumbled upon us with some cake monsters chasing you.” The cookie, who you learned is named Clover Cookie spoke in a gentle tone

You told them that your name was Y/N Cookie. You soon tried to stand but you winced. Milk Cookie walked over and kneeled next to you.

“Try not to move, you’re exhausted. Moving will only worsen your condition” Milk Cookie said in a concerned tone, kinda in a tone that one would use when they are worried about their friend

Purple Yam soon spoke up in quite the annoyed tone “Can we go now?! They can get healed back at the kingdom!” This seemed to snap Milk Cookie and Clover Cookie out of their concerned minds.

“Yes.. we should find them proper care.” Clover Cookie picked up his lute and looked over at Milk Cookie. “I agree, Y/N Cookie is it okay if I carry you back to our kingdom?”

You told Milk Cookie you were fine with being carried, but you didn’t expect to seem like you weighed nothing to Milk Cookie. The four of you started your way back to this allusive kingdom, but at some point you fell asleep. Unknowingly changing your life for better.. or for worse…

—————————————

Weeks had gone by, you still talked to Clover, Milk and Purple Yam from time to time but this had changed, a lot.

When you were more recovered, you had been brought to the castle in order of “The king” aka a child named Custard Cookie the lll. It was cute to see a kid so happy to be “king” but that wouldn’t be the case for long since the founding cookies of this kingdom are KIDS!

The fact that they could run a kingdom with some help from like 3 adults was SHOCKING.

You eventually started to stay in the castle, you’d suggest stuff and try to help out but it seemed like no one took you seriously… until.. you heard someone referring to you as “the ruler of the cookie kingdom”

You were quite happy to have others think of you as royalty but you were still recovering from some injuries since you did end up having a minor break in your leg so you couldn’t leave the castle.

Little did you know… this was planned out.

[see-arcane]

Recently got a thing in the mail

And I went on a Journey

Naturally I flipped directly to my favorite doomed paladin, Sir Zerxus 'The Road to Hell(s) is Fucking Greased with Good Intentions' Ilerez

Still more of a fan of the mosaic's style,

but I do dig the additional detail work. Also, of course, WEAPONRY

Fancy holy avenger, First Knight of Avalir edition. Love the addition that apparently the entirety of that city-state was firmly in the Mark us down as scared AND horny category when it came to Zerxus being a godless cosmos-powered juggernaut. Understandable.

The Mace of the Black Crown has a custom look. Not just the standard DnD frame, more of a sleeked down/barbed silhouette. You can almost make out a little face with the ruby. (Hi, Xartaza!)

And then.

...it would not surprise me to know that the Lord of the Hells keeps him close at hand. Not because, if given the chance, the damned knight would attempt to free himself from the chains he allowed himself to be bound in, no. But because keeping the soft, familiar light of Exandria's stars from he who loved them most probably brings the Lord of the Hells joy unending.

The stars.

The Astral Plane.

Evandrin Alterra, Elias, Tempus.

This Infernal piece of shit didn't settle for damning Zerxus. He was so intent on removing even a wisp of peace from him, on sowing maximum misery and keeping Zerxus nailed down as close as possible, that he didn't even let his new Champion exist aboveground to fight any battles--because the battlefield might potentially offer a view of the stars somewhere, somehow, through a crack in the smoke-choked sky, and so might potentially bring the solace of thinking of or connecting with his loved ones.

FUCK.

I am getting a shovel and digging this man out of the Hells myself.

[twinterrors29]

while Palpatine had ordered the Jedi to take extreme action in order to defend him from the supposed assassination attack planned on Naboo, the Council never actually told him their plan to send Obi-Wan undercover as Rako Hardeen

so when he saw Anakin teetering as he failed to cope with his Master's murder, he gave the final push to bring him firmly to his own side, then sent the newly-minted Vader to carry out Operation Knightfall at the Jedi Temple while he transmitted Order 66 across the rest of the galaxy

but first, Vader sneakily ordered Ahsoka and Rex away from the Temple, telling them to guard Padme with a small squad of troopers to keep them out of the way of his slaughter

however, Sidious expected him to try something like that, and made sure to comm Captain Rex directly to ensure that neither he nor Ahsoka escaped the massacre unscathed

once Padme and her handmaidens subdued them and used their med droids to remove the chips, they all saw that no matter Anakin's intentions Palpatine wasn't going to leave them alive and fled Coruscant to found the Rebellion together

back at the Temple, while Mace is making his final stand chopping and maiming Vader upstairs, a single Temple Guard in a secret sublevel watched the security footage in horror, hearing the cries of all their brethren across the galaxy

they saw a chance to protect one of their brothers, and they decided to take it: before the troopers could find this cell block, they triggered the deadman's switch, collapsing the entire level and killing themselves and their single prisoner, destroying any remaining evidence that the man out in the galaxy wasn't the true Rako Hardeen

across the galaxy, Obi-Wan woke from his deep sleep after surviving the ordeal of the Box on Serenno to the horror of feeling all his kin dying at once

only for Dooku to walk into the room

Dooku had figured out who 'Hardeen' was, and had elected not to share that information with his Master in the hopes of turning Obi-Wan and taking on Sidious with him at his side

but now he could see that Sidious had accelerated his own plot, and Dooku was left to scramble to make something of this opportunity himself before he sent Vader to remove the now unnecessary apprentice

so he showed Obi-Wan the news footage of Anakin proudly marching on the Temple with the troopers, and the newly-crowned Emperor decrying their collusion with Dooku to assassinate him at the upcoming Festival on Naboo

Obi-Wan was utterly heartbroken by these betrayals, but accepted Dooku's proposal to flee together in order to mount resistance against Palpatine's new rule

before too long, they catch up to the fledgling Rebellion that Padme, Rex, and Ahsoka have been putting together in exile and revealed their identities

Ahsoka and Rex were very relieved to hear of Obi-Wan's survival, even with the unspoken tension of knowing that his faked death was the trigger Palpatine used to kick off his ultimate power grab

as the new regime on Coruscant settled in, Padme and Dooku worked together to set themselves up as political figure heads of Rebellion, delivering speeches across the galaxy to weaken Palpatine's public image while secretly running black ops missions on the side

(they would both grudgingly admit that they made a good team, even if they still hated each others' guts)

Rex and Ahsoka ran further black ops missions, keeping the Empire busy and distracted and rescuing troopers wherever they could, and setting up new Rebel cells and recruiting any sympathetic politicians and operatives they can find

Obi-Wan, on the other hand, still had the wrong face, and had no access to the necessary technology to change that; he chose to act as a lone field operative, but knew that most friends and allies would be put off by the fact that he was wearing his murder's face

(and they all agreed, it was better to keep Obi-Wan Kenobi's survival a secret from the Empire)

but then, a few years in, they learn that the Empire is looking for Hardeen specifically

at first they fear that the secret has been found out

but then they hear further rumors, that they're gathering up any and all known Jedi Killers, supposedly building a program to hunt the surviving Jedi

despite their misgivings, Obi-Wan resolved to use this chance to infiltrate the Empire

Sidious of course immediately welcomed Hardeen into his proto-Inquisitorius program

"Hardeen" is immediately assigned to a single masked Force user (seemingly a young humanoid adult who seemed...oddly familiar, but they were clouded in the Force) and a squad of Purge Troopers

the Purge Troopers, on the other hand, he immediately recognized: this was the remains of Ghost Company, including his former Commander, who had been sent on a comms-dark mission on the Outer Rim during his undercover assignment

as it turned out, because they'd never been forced to actually turn on their Jedi during the Purge, they lacked the same cognitive dissonance that many of their peers in other battalions struggled with, forcing them to try to justify their choices that day; in fact, they very much wanted out of the Empire, and were searching for an opportunity

and now they were assigned to train with their beloved General's murderer

the tense stalemate among them lasted until they captured a young girl in the Lower Levels of Coruscant on their first mission and realized they couldn't afford to wait any longer

the troopers' tentative plan of kill-Hardeen-and-maybe-the-Inquisitor-and-steal-the-ships-and-disappear-with-the-kid, however, was derailed by "Hardeen's" quick-talking offer as they cornered him to enact the first step:

after all, they wanted Vader's head for what he'd done to their brothers and the Order, and Obi-Wan was willing to give them the opening they wanted, even if he knew he would never be able to strike the killing blow himself

and he was already planning to offer them a way out of the Empire

the troopers accepted this offer

they moved quickly, luring Vader into a trap, but he had suspected treachery and managed to turn the tables on his attackers

to try to turn the tide back in their favor, Obi-Wan revealed himself, but was unprepared for the immediate onslaught of hatred and fury that triggered in his direction

which allowed the concealed Inquisitor to make her move, Barriss stopping the monster that killed her family and betrayed her best friend

with Obi-Wan's identity revealed, they all celebrated their victory and his return from the dead as they fled Coruscant to join the Rebellion, getting them all to safety

[julibf]

Sansa Stark connection with

the Blue Rose

A GAME OF THRONES 

We all know that the Blue Rose has a very important significance in the story of ASOIAF and many readers seem to believe that Sansa story has nothing to do with the Blue Rose, but George managed to sneak in some hints that the blue rose will be a big part of Sansa story. We start to see the connection right in the beginning of the story, when King Robert is visiting Lyanna in the crypts of Winterfell. 

"I was with her when she died," Ned reminded the king. "She wanted to come home, to rest beside Brandon and Father." …….."I bring her flowers when I can," he said. "Lyanna was … fond of flowers." (A Game of Thrones - Eddard I)

We have George telling the reader how important flowers are for Lyanna storyline. 

THE HAND’S TOURNAMENT

"It is better than the songs," she whispered when they found the places that her father had promised her, among the high lords and ladies. Sansa was dressed beautifully that day, in a green gown that brought out the auburn of her hair, and she knew they were looking at her and smiling. (A Game of Thrones - Sansa II)

Sansa is experiencing her first Tourney, this is even greater than her dreams. Now, we all know that her aunt Lyanna Stark was crowned Queen of Love and Beauty in the Tourney of Harrenhall. She received a crown of frosting blue roses from the beautiful Prince Rhaegar Targaryen and if you read Sansa’s chapter you would think those events have nothing similar, yet, if you pay attention, you can see the crumbs that George have left for us. 

Ser Loras was the youngest son of Mace Tyrell, the Lord of Highgarden and Warden of the South. Sansa had never seen anyone so beautiful. His plate was intricately fashioned and enameled as a bouquet of a thousand different flowers, and his snow-white stallion was draped in a blanket of red and white roses. After each victory, Ser Loras would remove his helm and ride slowly round the fence, and finally pluck a single white rose from the blanket and toss it to some fair maiden in the crowd….. Sansa never saw it. Her eyes were only for Ser Loras. When the white horse stopped in front of her, she thought her heart would burst. .... To the other maidens he had given white roses, but the one he plucked for her was red. "Sweet lady," he said, "no victory is half so beautiful as you." Sansa took the flower timidly, struck dumb by his gallantry. (A Game of Thrones - Sansa II)

Ser Loras, the KNIGHT OF FLOWERS, gives Sansa a red rose (different from the white ones he was giving to the other maidens). A few chapters later, on Eddard VII, Ned notices that the flowers in Ser Loras armour are covered in sapphires making the flowers all blue. 

When the Knight of Flowers made his entrance, a murmur ran through the crowd, and he heard Sansa's fervent whisper, "Oh, he's so beautiful." Ser Loras Tyrell was slender as a reed, dressed in a suit of fabulous silver armor polished to a blinding sheen and filigreed with twining black vines and tiny blue forget-me-nots. The commons realized in the same instant as Ned that the blue of the flowers came from sapphires. (A Game of Thrones - Eddard VII)

First, we have Ser Loras, the Knight of Flowers, who wears an armour covered in blue flowers, giving Sansa a rose and telling her she is beautiful. Later we have Lord Baelish telling Sansa that she has her mother ‘s look and tells her Catelyn was HIS queen of beauty. For last, we have Sandor Clegane the champion of the lists after protecting Loras from the Mountain, having been named champion by Loras, escorts Sansa home.

Sansa was the Queen of Beauty and Love of the Tourney, only the author deconstructed the events in tiny little pieces. Again, George is literally giving us a puzzle with tiny little pieces that we must put together in order to get this story right.

A CLASH OF KINGS. 

In this book, we are going to read a tale about the Blue Rose of Winterfell in one of Jon Snow chapters. The author is going to intercalate the chapters giving us a foreshadow for the end of the story. The chapters 51, 52 and 53 are going to be very important for the story.

A CLASH OF KINGS CHAPTER 51, JON VII

In this chapter Jon Snow captures Ygritte and while she is his prisoner, she tells Jon and the audience, the story of Bael the Bard, who stole the maiden of Winterfell and left in her place a blue rose. 

She smiled again, a flash of white teeth. "And she never sung you the song o' the winter rose?" "I never knew my mother. Or any such song." "Bael the Bard made it," said Ygritte. "He was King-beyond-the-Wall a long time back. All the free folk know his songs, but might be you don't sing them in the south." "The Stark in Winterfell wanted Bael's head, but never could take him, and the taste o' failure galled him. One day in his bitterness he called Bael a craven who preyed only on the weak. When word o' that got back, Bael vowed to teach the lord a lesson. So he scaled the Wall, skipped down the kingsroad, and walked into Winterfell one winter's night with harp in hand, naming himself Sygerrik of Skagos. Sygerrik means 'deceiver' in the Old Tongue, that the First Men spoke, and the giants still speak." "North or south, singers always find a ready welcome, so Bael ate at Lord Stark's own table, and played for the lord in his high seat until half the night was gone. The old songs he played, and new ones he'd made himself, and he played and sang so well that when he was done, the lord offered to let him name his own reward. 'All I ask is a flower,' Bael answered, 'the fairest flower that blooms in the gardens o' Winterfell.'" "Now as it happened the winter roses had only then come into bloom, and no flower is so rare nor precious. So the Stark sent to his glass gardens and commanded that the most beautiful o' the winter roses be plucked for the singer's payment. And so it was done. But when morning come, the singer had vanished . . . and so had Lord Brandon's maiden daughter. Her bed they found empty, but for the pale blue rose that Bael had left on the pillow where her head had lain".(A Clash of Kings - Jon VI)

In the song, Bael calls the maiden of Winterfell the fairest flower that blooms in the gardens of Winterfell and stills her for himself. The Lord of Winterfell thought he meant the winter roses from the glass castle gardens, but it was the girl that Bael wanted for himself.

The next chapter of the book, chapter 52, is SANSA IV

In this chapter Sansa will get her period and be ready to give children to the king. A winter rose (a maiden Stark of Winterfell) is flowering and blooming. 

"When she woke, the pale light of morning was slanting through her window, yet she felt as sick and achy as if she had not slept at all. There was something sticky on her thighs. When she threw back the blanket and saw the blood, all she could think was that her dream had somehow come true. She remembered the knives inside her, twisting and ripping. She squirmed away in horror, kicking at the sheets and falling to the floor, breathing raggedly, naked, bloodied, and afraid. But as she crouched there, on her hands and knees, understanding came. "No, please," Sansa whimpered, "please, no." She didn't want this happening to her, not now, not here, not now, not now, not now, not now...... The sight of the food made Sansa feel ill. Her tummy was tied in a knot. "No, thank you, Your Grace." "I don't blame you. Between Tyrion and Lord Stannis, everything I eat tastes of ash. And now you're setting fires as well. What did you hope to accomplish?" Sansa lowered her head. "The blood frightened me." "The blood is the seal of your womanhood. Lady Catelyn might have prepared you. You've had your first flowering, no more." Sansa had never felt less flowery. "My lady mother told me, but I . . . I thought it would be different." "Different how?" "I don't know. Less . . . less messy, and more magical." Queen Cersei laughed. "Wait until you birth a child, Sansa. A woman's life is nine parts mess to one part magic, you'll learn that soon enough . . . and the parts that look like magic often turn out to be messiest of all." She took a sip of milk. "So now you are a woman. Do you have the least idea of what that means?" "It means that I am now fit to be wedded and bedded," said Sansa, "and to bear children for the king." (A CLASH OF KINGS - SANSA IV)

I must admit I was always surprised that so many readers never notice how Sansa chapter where she flowers comes right after the chapter where we hear the tale of Bael the Bard and never put the two together. If the story follows the end of the show, Sansa will be the last maid left in Winterfell, since Arya is sailing in the sea and Jon will be the King Beyond the wall. 

A STORM OF SWORDS

Finally, my favourite foreshadow in the entire serie!!!!

This was it was noticed by https://www.tumblr.com/nattyslove22 please go check her gorgeous post here in this link!!!!

To catch the little crumbs that George left us in this book, we have to go back to book 1, A GAME OF THRONES in order to find our clues. In that novel, Catelyn kidnaps Tyrion Lannister and takes him to the Vale, to her sister castle the Eyre and while she is there, she mentions that Lysas apartments are close to a small garden of blue flowers.

Lysa's apartments opened over a small garden, a circle of dirt and grass planted with blue flowers and ringed on all sides by tall white towers. The builders had intended it as a godswood, but the Eyrie rested on the hard stone of the mountain, and no matter how much soil was hauled up from the Vale, they could not get a weirwood to take root here. So the Lords of the Eyrie planted grass and scattered statuary amidst low, flowering shrubs. It was there the two champions would meet to place their lives, and that of Tyrion Lannister, into the hands of the gods. (A GAME OF THRONES CATELYN VII)

Later in A STORM OF SWORDS, we will have Sansa leaving her apartments and finding the entire garden covered in snow. We know that it’s the same garden because George made sure to point out the sculpture of the Weeping woman in both chapters. 

In this scene, we have Sansa being kissed by the SNOW on her lips in a garden of BLUE FLOWERS, reviving her dreams of love and innocence. The entire chapter feels like a dream, where Sansa longs for home, for the dreams that she used to dream. 

She awoke all at once, every nerve atingle. For a moment she did not remember where she was. She had dreamt that she was little, still sharing a bedchamber with her sister Arya. But it was her maid she heard tossing in sleep, not her sister, and this was not Winterfell, but the Eyrie. And I am Alayne Stone, a bastard girl. The room was cold and black, though she was warm beneath the blankets. Dawn had not yet come. Sometimes she dreamed of Ser Ilyn Payne and woke with her heart thumping, but this dream had not been like that. Home. It was a dream of home. …….. Snow was falling on the Eyrie. Outside the flakes drifted down as soft and silent as memory. Was this what woke me? Already the snowfall lay thick upon the garden below, blanketing the grass, dusting the shrubs and statues with white and weighing down the branches of the trees. The sight took Sansa back to cold nights long ago, in the long summer of her childhood.

We are going back to her childhood. 

She had last seen snow the day she'd left Winterfell. That was a lighter fall than this, she remembered. Robb had melting flakes in his hair when he hugged me, and the snowball Arya tried to make kept coming apart in her hands. It hurt to remember how happy she had been that morning. Hullen had helped her mount, and she'd ridden out with the snowflakes swirling around her, off to see the great wide world. I thought my song was beginning that day, but it was almost done.

We have now Sansa for the first time in the novels, mentioning HER SONG, the song she thought it was going to happen in Kings Landing, the song that she now believes has come to an end. But what if, her song is just about to start???

When she opened the door to the garden, it was so lovely that she held her breath, unwilling to disturb such perfect beauty. The snow drifted down and down, all in ghostly silence, and lay thick and unbroken on the ground. All color had fled the world outside. It was a place of whites and blacks and greys. White towers and white snow and white statues, black shadows and black trees, the dark grey sky above. A pure world, Sansa thought. I do not belong here. Yet, she stepped all the same. 

Ghostly silence is very on the nose. 

Drifting snowflakes brushed her face as light as lover's kisses, and melted on her cheeks. At the center of the garden, beside the statue of the weeping woman that lay broken and half-buried on the ground, she turned her face up to the sky and closed her eyes. She could feel the snow on her lashes, taste it on her lips. It was the taste of Winterfell. The taste of innocence. The taste of dreams.

SIGH, this will NEVER not be the most romantic chapter of the books.

THE BLUE ROSE AND SANSA STARK

Many of you, will say that the Blue Rose is not Sansa, its Jon Snow, which I agree somehow. The books point out to Jon as the blue rose, but the books also point out as the maiden of Winterfell as the winter rose. 

A very interesting point to notice is that this time, George is making the story a little different. You see, in the tale of Bael the Bard, Bael is the singer who enchants the Winterfell maiden, runs away with her and gives her a son; the same thing with Prince Rhaeger, who stole Lyanna and gave her a son, Rhaegar, just like Bael was a singer and played the High Harp, we have several characters in the books mentioning what lovely singer the dragon prince is that he even made Lyanna Stark cry with his sweet voice. With Jon and Sansa, the story will be a little different, because in this story, Sansa is the singer!!!!!

CREDIT https://nobodysuspectsthebutterfly.tumblr.com/post/716900314509361152

Sansa could sew and dance and sing. She wrote poetry. She knew how to dress. She played the high harp and the bells. Worse, she was beautiful. (A Game of Thrones - Arya I)

Well look at that, the same instrument that Rhaegar used to play. 

Margaery’s kindness had been unfailing, and her presence changed everything. Her ladies welcomed Sansa as well. It had been so long since she had enjoyed the company of other women, she had almost forgotten how pleasant it could be. Lady Leonette gave her lessons on the high harp, and Lady Janna shared all the choice gossip. Merry Crane always had an amusing story, and little Lady Bulwer reminded her of Arya, though not so fierce. ( A Storm of Swords - Sansa II)

And of course, Jon only mentions Sansa a few times but he makes sure to mention Sansa singing.

"Of Sansa, brushing out Lady's coat and singing to herself. You know nothing, Jon Snow.". (A Dance with Dragons - Jon XIII)

It was Sansa who bewitched Jon Snow with her songs, right in the beginning of the story. Which is why I believe that Sansa first child will be a girl and not a son, like Lyanna and Rhaegar. 

THE POWER OF SONGS

Its with a song that Sansa saves her life during the battle of Blackwater. We all know that during that chapter Sandor Clegane abandons Joffrey guard and goes looking for Sansa in her room. He is drunk and angry and Sansa believes he will either rape or kill her, she is terrified of him, but instead of screaming or crying, she sings for him and her song calms him and makes him cry. 

Later, in the next chapter Sandor Clegane comes looking for Sansa in her room and threats to kill her, Sansa is terrified of him and instead of screaming or crying she starts to sing and her song calms him and makes him cry. 

His dagger was out, poised at her throat. "Sing, little bird. Sing for your little life." Her throat was dry and tight with fear, and every song she had ever known had fled from her mind. Please don't kill me, she wanted to scream, please don't. She could feel him twisting the point, pushing it into her throat, and she almost closed her eyes again, but then she remembered. It was not the song of Florian and Jonquil, but it was a song. Her voice sounded small and thin and tremulous in her ears.

Gentle Mother, font of mercy, save our sons from war, we pray, stay the swords and stay the arrows, let them know a better day.

Gentle Mother, strength of women, help our daughters through this fray, soothe the wrath and tame the fury, teach us all a kinder way.

She had forgotten the other verses. When her voice trailed off, she feared he might kill her, but after a moment the Hound took the blade from her throat, never speaking. Some instinct made her lift her hand and cup his cheek with her fingers. The room was too dark for her to see him, but she could feel the stickiness of the blood, and a wetness that was not blood. "Little bird," he said once more, his voice raw and harsh as steel on stone. Then he rose from the bed. A CLASH OF KINGS - SANSA VII)

Yes, Sansa is no warrior and can not use swords, but she was still able to defeat the great Sandor Clean by using a song. I love that detail in her story. This is a Song of Ice and Fire and my baby girl is one of the singers of the story.

OK, this is getting long, so I am finishing here. I am a re reading of all the books this year, expecting for a release date of WINDS (we can dream right?) but I am getting surprised at how many little details I am finding this time. The books are full of little surprises. 

BTW, I am planning to do a thread pointing out the parallels between Sansa and Rhaegar and let me tell you, the singing its not the only one I notice so far!!

[lemoncakesandwine]

Maybe wager for young willas tyrell x reader that he tries to crown but fails tragically? Or really any prompt that suits you

Here you go anon!

A Dark Turn of Fate

Pairing: Willas Tyrell/Fem. Reader

Other Pairings: Willas Tyrell & Garlan Tyrell | Garlan Tyrell & Fem. Reader

Prompt: Wager

Themes: Jousting | Tragedy

Warnings: Violence | The Willas Tyrell & Doran Martell Jousting incident | Canon-Typical Violence | Major character injury

Wordcount: 1.6K words

Summary: Willas agrees to a wager with you before riding against Prince Oberyn Martel in the first joust of the day. Tragedy strikes. 

This is also available on AO3

Willas urged his horse toward you in the gallery. “My lady,” he cried, his face flushed with his recent victories and his heart gripped by a sense of daring he did not think he possessed. Out of all the ladies present, only you caught his attention during the entire tourney, and he had been determined to win you over before another day was done. “On this day, I shall crown you my queen of love and beauty. It is only befitting, I think, for a lady such as yourself to receive such an honor.”

You regarded him first, flattered by what he had said. Willas was armed with a lance embellished with strips of gold and protected in plated green armor. Twisting vines and five-petaled roses of filigreed gold adorned his breastplate, greaves, and gauntlets. The firstborn son of Mace Tyrell and the heir to Highgarden cut a most dashing figure when arrayed in such a splendid manner, but would he pass muster in the contest to come? You pondered this while turning to look at the other end of the lists. Willas Tyrell’s challenger, Prince Oberyn Martell, waited on his horse, a stallion that was as black as sin and with a mane and tail the color of fire. His scaled armor of crimson and gold glinted in the sun. A twelve-foot lance painted in red, gold, and orange was held firmly in his hand. The Dornish prince had ridden well today and had distinguished himself in the lists by besting the other knights who rode against him. Willas would be his next opponent, and the prospect of it unnerved you in a way you could not describe. Oberyn was older. He had wielded many a lance in tourneys and battles, and few withstood him. Willas, on the other hand, had little experience fighting an actual warrior despite his anointing as a knight, and it showed in the anxious looks he sent Oberyn’s way.

“You honor me, ser, with your offer,” you said, rising and crossing to the thin railing separating the stands from the field. “But I urge you to exercise caution,” you warned quietly, so others would not hear. “Prince Oberyn is a worthy rival, and more than one knight has been unhorsed by him thus far.” You flashed a grin. “But we will see. Keep your gaze fixed on him, and only him, and do not lose heart. You may yet succeed where others have failed.”

Willas blushed. “I thank you for your counsel, my lady,” he said, clutching on to his courage before it deserted him, “but I am certain of victory.” He glanced at Oberyn and silently prayed the gods would indeed reward him. Oberyn had ridden fiercely during the jousts and struck without restraint. “I am also certain that the one to place the crown of snowdrops around your brow would be me and no other.”

“Shall we hold a wager on this?” Ser Garlan, the younger brother of Willas, cried from a bench behind yours. He had been vanquished by another in the lists, and now he was with his friends, nursing his wounded pride just as he nursed a cup of fine wine. “If my brother defeats Prince Oberyn,” he exclaimed, getting up, “and if he succeeds in triumphing over all others, he will name Lady Y/n his queen of love and beauty, and she shall be his companion for the remainder of the tourney and the feast!” 

You turned to face Ser Garlan, your curiosity roused. “And what if Ser Willas should lose, my lord?” 

Garlan did not hesitate to reply. “Willas shall be your slave for the remainder of the tourney and the feast, my lady, and attend to your every whim. What say you to this wager, brother mine?” 

“I accept!” Willas proclaimed, awash with fresh courage. He looked at Oberyn, thinking if fate smiled on him, he could very well emerge the victor against the Dornishman. Others had done the same against those who were their betters; he was confident he could do it also. “If I win, brother, I will make Lady Y/n my queen of love and beauty. If I fall, I shall attend Lady Y/n as her slave and tend to her every whim.” 

“Ser Willas accepts the terms of this wager!” Ser Garlan excitedly returned. He addressed you next. “Do you accept the terms of this wager as well, my lady?” 

“I do, my lord,” you said, your eyes glinting with amusement. It was not every day one had the heir to Highgarden as a devoted attendant. “I accept them heartily.” 

“We have an agreement, then!” Garlan declared. He sat down and beamed. “I shall leave the rest to your capable hands, brother.” 

“My thanks, brother,” Willas said. He lowered his visor. It muffled his voice thereafter. “I shall see you after this, my lady.” 

“Good fortune to you, my lord,” you said, your heart aflutter when Willas bowed his head to you and went to take his place.

The Master of Revels stepped forth when both contenders were ready. He waited until the talking and laughter died. 

“Welcome, one and all!” He boomed for most to hear. “For the first joust of the day, I present Prince Oberyn of House Martell and Ser Willas of House Tyrell!” 

The cheers that erupted from nobles and common-born alike were near-deafening. It was a match few expected to take place. An ancient feud lingered between Dorne and the Reach, and there was little love between the two Great Houses of Tyrell and Martell. Still, people shouted good fortune to both men. Coin and jewels and costly favors were pledged by those who believed one man or the other would emerge the victor. Then, pages standing at either side of the gallery lifted their trumpets, and the Master of Revels made haste to retreat to one end of the field for his safety. The moment he was out of the way, the trumpets rang out, feeding into the anticipation that had begun to build in the air. It was also the signal Willas and Oberyn needed to hear. When the last note ceased reverberating, they couched their lances, put spurs to their horses, and charged down the lists. 

A fresh cheer rose, and it grew louder and louder as the two riders and their mounts hurtled toward each other at great speed. Willas tightened his grip on his weapon and girded himself, eager to prove himself as adept as Prince Oberyn. He shifted in his saddle, ready to strike, and when he did, Oberyn, having seen him doing so, shifted deftly as well, but at the last moment, before Willas could alter his position. The young knight’s point glanced harmlessly over the prince’s left shoulder while the prince himself struck true and hit Willas clean on his breastplate. Willas was unhorsed violently from the shock of the impact, but he was not thrown from his saddle. His foot caught in a stirrup as he fell, and he pulled his horse down on top of him when he did. Cheers turned to shocked gasps, and cries of horror spread around the commons while the steed whinnied in fright and fell on top of him, crushing his leg beneath its weight. It struggled to stand, but when it finally did, its rider did not rise with it. He lay on the dirt like a rag doll, unmoving.

You did not waste another instant. You took to your feet, dipped under the space beneath the rail, and ran onto the field, dread coursing thick through your veins and sheer instinct driving you forward. Someone shouted for a Maester. You barely heard it. Every moment leading up to the fall seared into your mind. They would remain with you for a long, long while.

“My lord?” You panted when you reached Willas. Never had you run that fast before. “My lord, can you hear me?”

Willas moaned in pain. It was a relief to listen to him do so; it meant he was still alive. You knelt beside him and reached for his helm. Its clasps were too small, and its straps were hidden beneath flesh and steel. You fumbled in the attempt to free him from it, yet try you did.

Suddenly, the rush of boots pounding over the earth sounded in your ears. When you glanced back, you found Garlan was not far behind you, and he was not alone. He had a Maester with him.

“Allow me, my lady,” he commanded, his eyes bright with fear.

You obeyed and moved to the side. Garlan took your place. He got to his knees, unsheathed a dagger that hung at his belt, and made quick work of cutting through strips of leather. When Willas’s helm finally loosened, Garlan removed it and let out a small sob when he discovered his brother struggling to open his eyes.

“Do not move, my lord,” you urged, taking Willas’s hand into your own. He managed to give it a squeeze. “We will take you to your pavilion soon.” You looked at Garlan. “We will need a litter for him.”

“Prince Oberyn is already attending to it,” he said. The Maester who came with him got down to his knees and set himself the task of carefully inspecting Willas’s leg.

In the distance, Prince Oberyn could be overheard directing a group of squires as they hurried to make a litter. You listened to him shout out instructions and shivered. Nothing good would come out of this; you were certain of it, and not just because Willas was grievously injured. The old feud between Highgardeners and Dornishmen could rear its head once again, and that could bode ill for many.

“Should I stay with Ser Willas, my lord?” you asked. Willas had squeezed your hand again as if he wanted you near.

“Do so,” Garlan said. “Your presence seems to be a comfort to him.”  

[madeleinelovescolours]

bold your favs

I got a bunch of new mutuals recently, so I'm tagging you XD

[COLORS ] red. brown. orange. yellow. green. blue. purple. pink. black. white. teal. silver. gold. grey. lilac. metallic. matte. royal blue. strawberry red. charcoal grey. forest green. apple red. navy blue. crimson. cream. mint green.

[ ELEMENTS ] fire. ice. water. air. earth. rain. snow. wind. moon. stars. sun. heat. cold. steam. frost. lightning. sunlight. moonlight. dawn. dusk. twilight. midnight. sunrise. sunset. dewdrops. magic.

[ BODY ] claws. long fingers. fangs. teeth. wings. tails. lips. bare feet. freckles. bruises. Canine. scars. scratches. wounds. burns. spikes. feathers. webs. eyes. hands. sweat. tears. feline. chubby. curvy. short. tall. normal height. muscular. piercing. tattoos. lithe.

[ WEAPONS ] fists. sword. dagger. spear. arrow. hammer. shield.poison. guns. axes. throwing axes. whips. knives. throwing knives. pepper sprays. tasers. machine guns. slingshots. katanas. maces. staffs. wands. powers. magical items. magic. rocks. mud balls. pyre. teeth.  rifles.  

[ MATERIALS ] gold. silver. platinum. titanium. diamonds. pearls. rubies. sapphires. emeralds. amethyst. metal. iron. rust. steel. glass.wood. porcelain. paper. wool. fur. lace. leather. silk. velvet. denim.linen. cotton. charcoal. clay. stone. asphalt. brick. marble. dust. glitter. blood. dirt. mud. smoke. ash. shadow. carbonate. rubber. synthetics.

[ NATURE ] grass. leaves. trees. bark. roses. daisies. tulips. lavender. petals. thorns. seeds. hay. sand. rocks. roots. flowers.ocean. river. meadow. forest.desert. tundra. savanna. rainforest. caves. underwater. coral reef. beach. waves. space. clouds.mountains. poppies.

[ ANIMALS ] lions. wolves. eagles. owls. bears. falcons. hawks. swans. snakes. turtles. ducks. bugs. spiders. crickets. birds. whales. dolphins. fish. sharks. horses. cats. dogs. bunnies. praying mantises. crows. ravens. mice. lizards. werewolves. unicorns. pegasus. dragons. rats. livestock. foxes.

[ FOODS/DRINKS ] sugar. salt. candy. bubblegum. wine.champagne. hard liquor. beer. coffee. tea. spices. herbs. apple.orange. lemon. cherry. strawberry. watermelon. vegetables. fruits. meat. fish. pies. desserts. chocolate. cream. caramel. berries.nuts. cinnamon. burgers. burritos. pizza. french fries. ambrosia.

[ HOBBIES ] music. art. watercolors. gardening. smithing. sculpting. painting. sketching. fighting. writing. composing. cooking. sewing. training. dancing. acting. singing. martial arts. self-defense. electronics. technology. cameras. video cameras. video games. computer. phone. movies. theater. libraries. books.comic books. magazines. cds. records. vinyls. cassettes. piano. violin. guitar. electronic guitar. bass guitar. harmonica. harp. woodwinds. brass. bells. playing cards. poker chips. chess. dice.motorcycle riding. eating. climbing. running. exploring.

[ STYLE ] lingerie. armor. cape. dress. tunic. vest. shirt. sweater. boots. heels. leggings. trousers. jeans. skirt. jewelry. earrings. necklace. bracelet. ring. pendant. hat. crown. circlet. helmet. scarf. brocade. cloaks. corsets. doublet. chest plate. gorget. bracers. belt. sash. coat. jacket. duster. trenchcoat. hood.gloves. socks. masks. cowls. braces. watches. glasses. sunglasses. visor. eye contacts. makeup. ties. uniform.

[ MISC ] balloons. bubbles. cityscape. light. dark. candles. war. peace. money. power. percussion. clocks. photos. mirrors. pets. kisses. diary. fairy lights. madness. sanity. sadness. happiness. optimism. pessimism. loneliness. family. friends. assistants. co-workers. enemies. loyalty. smoking. drugs. kindness. love. hugs.revenge.

@mjlegends @thefiasco-onyourblock @manicpixietboy @fionas-frenzy @oracle-sasha @taashyvashedan @felanndaris

[lipeg]

A portal opened in the middle of an alley.

Four young girls fell out of the portal and the moment they left the portal closed.

Ruby: We achieved!

Weiss: Wait, no is Vacuo?

Blake: It looks like the city of Vale

Yang: Is this possible, the city of Vale was almost completely destroyed

Weiss: Let's get out of this alley and find out

Everyone agreed with Weiss' idea.

When they came out of the alley, they got a big surprise.

The city of Vale.

Completely rebuilt.

Blake: But how?

Weiss: How is this possible!

Yang: Hey! Remember the city not completely destroyed but still

Ruby: It seems like the city has never suffered an invasion before.

Weiss: There's something wrong, very wrong indeed

Yang: What do we do?

Ruby: Let's walk around town and see if we can find anything

The girls started walking around the city. The city, even though it changed many things, was still identical before the Grimms attack.

Weiss looked at people and everyone was carefree and they were happy, what happened?

Weiss: There is something very wrong

Ruby: Let's go to Parker there was a big screen

Weiss: Do you think that is still there?

Ruby: It costs nothing to try

Blake: Let's go there first, then we'll go to Academy

Weiss: But wasn't Academy destroyed?

Yang shrugged his shoulders.

Yang: Who knows if Academy was rebuilt?

Weiss: I highly doubt it, I believe that the priority was to rebuild the city and Academy must have been left behind

Blake: Staying here arguing won't help anything, we'd better go and see about this soon and then see if Academy is up and running

Once again, the four girls headed towards a public park nearby, but along the way they noticed some different things.

There were men and women wearing blue and white attire, very reminiscent of the uniform of Atlas soldiers, Blake heard with his ear that these same "soldiers" are talking about them.

But they didn't do anything.

Blake “ there is something wrong ”

As soon as they arrived at the park they got a surprise.

A crowd of people gathered in one place and they were all looking in one direction for big screen.

Team RWBY looked at the big screen and them got a surprise.

The screen was showing a gigantic army fully armed and prepared for war.

On both sides of the screen there was a pole with 6 flags.

The flag that was lower was the flag of the White Fang which was more destroyed, torn, burned, holey and dirty.

On top of the White Fang flag there was a flag of Vale which was quite burnt.

On top of the Vale flag was the Mistral flag that had a huge hole on the flag.

And above the Mistral flag there was the Atlas Flag that had several holes and had a big hole in the middle but it still showed the Atlas symbol.

Above the flag of Atlas was the flag of Vacuo which was well burned, but the symbol, even though it was damaged, was still recognizable as the Vacuo symbol.

The last flag, the one that was highest.

An orange and white flag that had a crown and head of a jackalope who had big horns. The crown was between the jackalope's horns but was not on the animal's head.

Ruby “Why are the flags of the kingdoms like that? Where did that flag that's high up come from? ”

Team RWBY's attention changed and now their attention went towards the big screen.

There was a giant army.

An army larger than the Army of Atlas but much larger, proving to be the largest army ever seen.

But there were some familiar faces.

Cardin that bully was totally different, he was much older now he had a beard and slightly longer hair, he was wearing an orange and black uniform. He had his black mace being supported with his two hands.

On his left shoulder there was a kind of cape that only covered his shoulder, that had a half moon upside down with five stars on top.

Next to him was Velvet, that hadn't changed much. She also had the same cape as Cardin which only covered her shoulder and also had the same symbol the only difference was that the outfit and her cape were brown.

Next to her was Nora!

Nora had changed a lot, his hair was big, she was wearing pants too! But she still kept her skirt on, her arms were showing that she had those scars she got in Atlas. His uniform was blue with some pink details.

Her beloved Magnhild was upside down and her hands were resting on the end of the handle.

Next to her was her beloved Ren... Who looked like a real assassin.

If didn't his pink headband wouldn't be able to recognize he, his face was covered by a mask, his uniform was very reminiscent of his old outfit he wore in Beacon. He had it behind his waist.

Just like Cardin and Velvet, Ren and Nora had those capes on their shoulders with their respective colors.

Yang: Ren... Nora?

Weiss: What the hell is Cardin doing there?

Weiss had to control herself not to scream.

Ruby: Where did this army come from?

Between Velvet and Nora there was a door that opened.

Ruby's eyes widened.

Three figures came out of that door.

Jackalope, a creature with the body of a horse, the head of a rabbit and the antlers of a deer.

The second figure was Jaune.

But that wasn't the same Jaune that Ruby once knew.

He was totally different from before, he had a beard, your hair is long again, he was wearing more elegant clothes looking like a King.

On his left side was Neo.

Neo lost his long three-color head now his hair was short, she was wearing a dress and looked like a real lady she still had her umbrella.

Ruby: Jaune—

Soldiers: LONG LIVE YOUR MAJESTY!

Soldiers: LONG LIVE THE KING OF REMNANT!

Soldiers: LONG LIVE KING JAUNE!

The soldiers and public saluted the king.

Yang: Jaune?

Blake: A king

Weiss “ The disgrace aged like wine! ”

Ruby: Jaune... What did you do

[qwertyprophecy]

The Undefeated

Character Design of The Dark Queen of Mortholme, Pt. 1

The player character, the Queen, is defined by her status as the final boss. She's the ultimate authority, the most powerful being in her universe as dictated by the rules that created it. Her design needs to communicate how that's made her haughty, effortless, infinitely confident and immutably inflexible.

For the base design, since I'd decided on a darksoulsian aesthetic to evoke one of the most famous examples of the "hard boss fights" genre, it was pretty clear she was going to be wearing armour; which as a happy bonus helps convey rigidity. To further emphasise the tropes of the role the player steps in (and, honestly, just for me to have some fun designing and nightmares animating) that armour would be over-the-top edgy with ridiculous spikes, huge pauldrons and broody tatters, as classic evil fantasy ruler fashion dictates.

She had to, of course, be impossibly tall to tower over her opponent, and wield a stupidly enormous crushing weapon with ease. I really wanted to give her a flail for grand swings, but for the final version I had pity on my animator self complaining about the chain and turned it into a mace instead.

To portray how naturally she holds power and how little of it she needs to use it, and to make her feel royal, stiff and formal, I knew her body movements were going to be as minimal as possible. To add other sources of grandiose large motions, I gave her a cape—one of those weird fantasy butt capes that may be historically questionable but look terribly cool so it's justified—and long hair. I'd experimented with a feather from the helmet, but the exposed hair added a glimpse of humanity to balance out the rest of her impenetrably tough exterior.

A crown to depict rigid authority was a must, obviously, even before I named the game I'd started calling her Queen. (Originally the characters were "Boss" and "Player" but that got increasingly confusing when I started writing notes about the human player.) I drew random helmet variants for a while before picking the one that reminded me of a bridal veil. At that point the Queen and the Hero were already rapidly developing a lesbian romance, so what else would I pick.

After experimenting with some splashes of red, I was going to tone the colour scheme down to just black and passionless cold hues to contrast with the Hero. However in that version she had a problem with pose readability--when her arms crossed over her body, the black gauntlets disappeared into black armour. To make the position of her hands easier to distinguish, I dipped her fingers into the blood red, and was so pleased with the effect I added it to the spikes of her crown and weapon too. She can be stained by a bit of passion, as a treat.

[thewriterg]

drowning, falling into you

pairing(s): miles morales x black!reader, mace morales (earth!42 miles) x black!reader, rio morales x black!reader, morales twins x punk!reader,

summary: In no shape or form did you see yourself in or wanting to go to Visions academy but you didn’t have much of a choice did you welcome the change with open arms? Hell no you happened to be angry at the world actually and you made sure to make it just about everyone’s problem

word count: 2.0k

warning(s): RUSTY Spanish, semi bullying, rocker reader, twins are like 17 pushing 18, descriptions of violence, stealing, reader can be read w an accent, wounds, and language

playlist; fiction (dreams in digital) by orgy,

A/n;—Pics from Pinterest— new series!? 🙀

she’s lost in coma where it’s beautiful, intoxicated from the deep sleep

You hummed out a response at your tour guide that you had been paying little to no mind to as the boy Kayden or Kyle you couldn’t quite care to remember showed you around your new school looking over a copy of your schedule accordingly and showing you which classrooms you had to make it to neither were you offended at the look you got when he saw all of your core classes were indeed AP

You walked behind the blonde with a slight stride in your step you were about an inch or two taller than him with the boots you wore giving you a boost in height also your electric guitar swayed gently on your back the neck of it peering over your shoulder while the body sat against the back of your thighs

“Well you’ve already got your dorm information, your locker, I think you’re all set” You now we’re in front of your first class how the hell were you going to get through a precalculus class as a junior at eight o’clock in the morning for the next seven months was beyond your comprehension

“Yeah, ‘preciate it mate” You muttered before taking a step into the classroom and just like every corny, cliche high school Disney movie eyes were on you but instead in usual desks they were all standing in various places of the classroom as the teacher a heavier dark skinned woman her gray locs pinned into a bun at the crown of her head as she stood with a clipboard originally reading off names before your presence interrupted

“You must be Miss y/l/n it’s wonderful to have you with us” The middle aged woman greeted not before double backing at your outfit that was no where near school uniform you stuck out like a sore thumb with your black leather jacket pins littering the the front and collar, your a size too big straight cut jeans black washed, and a old ripped in some places long sleeve shirt for the cooler November weather

“Y/n is fine mam, and I would say feelings mutual but I would be lying through my teeth” You could hear various snickers and giggles from around the room which you ignored waiting for further direction from the woman who sighed in tiredness any other time you would feel a slight bit of remorse for teachers who were not paid enough to do the job they did but today you couldn’t seem to care hell the school system was corrupted and narcissistic anyhow

“Well we’re in the middle of our seating arrangement change and who you’ll be sitting next to is the person you’ll be working with for the rest of the year” Not like you would be working with the poor lad anyway as time passed the occupation of seats were filled up some silently cheered at their shoulder partner while others groaned and soon you knew it your name was finally called

“Lastly we have Miss Y/l/n and Mr Morales” Mrs Brinker you had learned the woman’s name easily when it was being called over forty times in requests of a seat change called out directing you to your seat which you opted closest to the wall making sure to sling your guitar off your shoulder to sit it against it

“Hey I’m Miles! I know you’re new and if you want I can help you out and—” You watched the toffee toned boy with attentiveness which on his side looked like you were just glaring him down before you kissed your teeth opting your line of sight to the front of the classroom

“Okay” The brunette muttered awkwardly taking his seat next to you directing his attention to the smart board he had to admit that you reminded him of his twin a lot but he was still determined on getting you to speak to him… eventually

Whispering small comments to himself as Mrs Brinker went over practice problems over the board to refresh their memory over the weekend a sheet of paper was eventually passed back to you both with the instructions of one partner gets odd numbers one gets even and to finish the paper by the end of the class bell

Miles had never struggled with math but this section in particular was very difficult for him luckily it was only the second section but something about the law of sines and cosines didn’t seem to want to stick in his head so opting to look over at you and instead of working on your problems you were writing in some type of journal tapping your foot steadily even your resting face looked unapproachable

You and Mace would get along great

“Uhm do you mind helping on these last few problems… please?” The boy spoke out his last few words pleading as a squeak slipping through his teeth and he watched as you turn your body towards him a slight sigh resting on your lips as you did so

“X=1 so carry the X or the 1 whatever works best for your mental, over your total and then sum it together…” Suddenly in the middle of your explanation Miles forced himself to focus in on your voice scolding himself when his eyes drifted on your side of the two seat table along with the discovery of the small notebook had realized you’d finished your problems with the piece of paper he had to give you, he noticed you chose all odd number instead of even opposite of him who fought as if he was in war when it came to even numbers

Hed liked to think that you'd both get along fine… if he could get over the fear that settled in him when you looked at him with siren like eyes that had squeaks and helium sounds produced from his vocal chords the dark eyeliner around your eyes just enhancing the fact so with the missing part to his formula he finished the rest of his problems quicker than usual soon taking his and your paper up to the turn in bin making sure to staple it together before the fact just in time for the bell to ring

While students blared through the door out of the classroom when he was finally able to return back to his seat to get his books you were gone without a trace he didn't have time to dwell on it before he heard police sirens blaring in the distance he huffed looking up on the wall watching as the clock read 12;17 the longer red hand moving around the face faster than any other he had a conference at 12;45 as he contemplated his decisions

He could make it

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He could not make it.

“What took you so long?” He heard the distorted voice coming from a mask that could have sent chills down his spine, the looming presence that could make goosebumps rise up on his skin, could even make his knees shake.

“Got caught up in… traffic” The boy muttered the spandex of his suit clinging to his body while he could hear a deep chuckle from under the mask that made him huff

“Yeah well tell moms that you ‘just got caught up in traffic’ when she kicks your ass for being late” Miles could feel the eyeroll from under his twins mask as his claw swung slightly at his side his double braids sitting on his shoulders neatly

“Hah, so funny. What’s going on?” The slightly taller boy questions balancing off the balls of his feet as he scanned the street listening to Mace huff out a grunt in a response

“Some cow lookin’ joint, calls himself the spot. Perdiendo mi maldito tiempo, pregúntame.” The last fraise was muttered under his breath before he dropped down off the building his low gravity boots helping land smoothly and soon Miles was following after checking the time on his watch

12:27

The twins watched as the the… spotted being struggled to steal from an ATM politely asking the store owner who they referred to as “pa” to let him rob him… in peace chase him around the store with a bat in amusement Miles slipped a beef patty from the case into the microwave waiting for it to heat up while Mace simply watched the scene unfold sitting on the counter in front of the register eyes squinting behind the mask

“Why do people say ATM machine? The ‘M’ stands for machine.” Miles hung from the ceiling biting down on his snack mask pulled just over his nose watching as the… being scrambled to stand tall in his presence which sent him through another one of his own portals in response the teen jumped down from his place above the floor pushing the half of pa Lenny that wasn’t with the rest of him

“Ayo pa, how much we owe you for a beef patty and these chips man” Mace called voice even more gruff as his accent mixed with how distortion of the mask

“Prow, Spidey if you catch him? It’s on the house.”

“Woah Spiderman! This is real.” The spot hyped himself jogging in black while Miles watched him In nothing more than curiosity after he turned the isle to be faced to… black hole with him

“So are you like a Cow or… a Dalmatian?” He questioned in genuine curiosity causing a small chuckle from his twin that he wouldn’t have been able to catch without his enhanced abilities his attention adverting back to the criminal

“I am… the spot. We meet again Spiderman” Miles struggled to keep from laughing trying not to choke on the food in his mouth as loaf of bread fell through the portal of his stomach denying the accusations with his hands up

“So is that a costume orrr?”

“Unfortunately for both of us this is skin… you see I’m from your pas-” The vigilante interrupted the criminal as his phone went off causing the dotted figure to huff out a mock whine Mace checked his also getting the same notification he did fixing Miles with one look

“My bad but I really gotta wrap this up” shooting two different webs from the shooters on his wrist they traveled through a portal coming back to smack him in the face quite little as he struggled to get the sticky fluid off his mask the spot traveling out of the store before he followed chasing after him Mace sighed out a huff with a roll of his eyes sliding five dollars across the counter

“Keep the change”

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“Cant you just act like a regular supervillain so I can catch you!” Miles struggled traveling through different portals of the spot the scene was unpleasant to say the least while Mace softened the blow of things a new addition to his claw that lowered the faculty of gravity

“We’re crunching on time Hermano!” He called out after lowering a taxi to the ground after keeping it from crashing into another bodega

“Almost… done” The teen groaned dodging different fists that came from a portal before tying it with a web and before he knew it all different limbs of the spot were tied in web fluid the spot in the middle of it all after before running off

“Come back here nemesis!”

“And don’t escape!” He called back swinging from building to building Mace not far behind him on their way back to academy he was able to see the police cars he heard over all surrounding a local pawn shop that had probably got stolen from and was able to hear the head of police say something along the lines of

“That damn cat is becoming a pain in my ass”

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Hey… hey, how you guys doing 😖

Not going to lie to you started school in early EARLY August and these honors classes have been kicking my ASS.

I’m also In drama club, student council, & yearbook club so please bare with me

Trying to learn to balance everything out but I’ll get it eventually‼️

Also I’m so ready for autumn 🍂 <333

Enough with life updates,

More of the twins than anything to get us started but it’s okay because I’m HOPING to post every Monday or every other Monday

Also thank you guys so much for 1.4K I’ll start crying in here 😖

Have a good day and be safe writers !<;33 -G