#NOT EMPIRE APPROVED-

[stardustedknuckles]

I am shaking the wizard Steel in my jaws like a squeaky toy. I've loved her since the beginning but we are beginning to really peel into what makes her who she is. It's the new world she believes in, not the emperor. I would venture to guess that she despises a man who would have her fly a damaged ship of wounded people over a military parade "just for morale." That's never been her. This was the first time we have seen the emperor or Steel interacting with him and his entourage and she fucking hates them.

And the wizard Gray calling out her ability to end a whole bloodline. All but threatening to tell on her to the emperor. Combining that with her telling Suvi that this new world has no need of a sword of the citadel and everything she does, but it will have need of Suvi.

A world without war, without fear. And I wonder, if she has no faith in the emperor and this new world has no need of her, what would that world need of an emperor?

Or, say, his bloodline?

[adm-starblitzsteel-4305]

💖BISEXUALITY CONFIRMATION APPROVES💖

A BISEXUAL LOVING - BUT SOMETIMES ANGERS ABOUT IT - MOTHERFUCKING KING OF THE MONSTERS 💖

@kaliido-s @sassyassblog @mossizi @androgynouslovechopshop @dacrackerz

[lareinedulune]

🍑

For my Feisty Friday Tumblr Saucy Wenches, a portfolio, a tribute, an art installation, a panoramic tour thought the images of Huge Jackman's arse 🍑 For your consideration...

[aroace-spec-empire]

Oh no-

oh. The bots found the acespec mafia tag. Delightful.

[headgear-smelvin-fart]

my grandma agrees. grandma approved

[solidaritygaming-fanblog]

what I REALLY need is a life series / hermitcraft / empires smp high school academic team au. Bigb's specialization for quick recall would be mythology and ancient Earth history. Jimmy takes trash questions (pop culture, video games, sports) but is in reality all over the spectrum (in both ways). Please believe me... the teams getting stuffed into vans and driven for three hours is the perfect setup for shenanigans. We can set up other smps as schools they go up against in matches and tournament's. I NEED THIS SO BAD RRAHHHHHHH

[daevabadfanart]

Alternative dust jackets for The City of Brass, The Kingdom of Copper, and The Empire of Gold, from Fae Crate's 2020: The Empire of Gold Hangover Recovery Kit. Drawn by Gabriella Bujdoso on Instagram with collaboration from the author S. A. Chakraborty.

[aroace-spec-empire]

ik we haven't even decided the laws or how exactly the government works yet, but I think our national flower should be the King's lomatia.

it is one of many flowers that reproduce asexually, (heres a reddit thread with a bunch of other ones: https://www.reddit.com/r/botany/comments/18pzbid/are_there_any_plant_species_that_only_reproduce/ )

and it is a flower so it is already aro.

The King's Lomatia is officially the national flower of the AroAce Spec Empire!

Also it looks really pretty-

[enlitment]

The Octavianus Fragrance: for a price you can barely afford, you too can smell like sickness and desperation!

[drohh13]

[hoboblaidd]

a kiss shared while holding your dying dead lover bodyguard . // from @keepsduty

ask meme | stolen kiss

Wolf.

Andruil's voice is thunder above the roar of battle. Solas is not the only one to turn at the sound of her voice, but he is the only one to stall in his fight.

The blood drains from his face as she shouts his name across the battlefield. It had been centuries, millennia, since he last faced Andruil. She is on a warpath, throwing his aside his soldiers as if swatting a fly, but her eyes are fixed on him, and he is rooted to the spot.

He is no wolf, no great beast stalking the shadows. He is naught more than prey, and the hunter has at last cornered her quarry. And all he can do is stare at his impending doom with wide, terrified eyes. 

Andruil slices his people with a wide rush of her spear, and he is there again. Staked to the tree by that same spear. With shattered bones in his hip, dragging his broken body to escape, faint from blood loss and the relentless burn of her residual magic, and his spirit destroyed.

He should flee, but the last time he’d run she drove that spear through his side. He should fight, but the last time they’d fought she had easily subdued him.

She closes the distance between them and he is frozen, caught between flight or fight, and immobilized by fear.

Death would be a kindness she would not afford. The promise of worse is in her eyes. She lunges towards him with a powerful force that rends the air around him.

He thinks, for the first time in centuries, in millennia, of Ghilan’nain as she had been. Her sad smile, her wandering fingers exploring the contours of his face, the ghost of her cold breath against his lips. What she was, what they were, ruined at the point of the spear that Andruil now thrust at him.

But the blow doesn’t land. Not in him. He watches in a daze as blood spatters the ground, but it is not his blood, and it is not his side impaled upon the burning tip.

It is Protection. @keepsduty. The spear is buried so deep into Alenriel that she cannot fall to the ground.

Her hand grips the spear with white knuckles, Andruil’s slave marking twisting in a pain she channels into righteous anger. She is dead, she is dying, she is stubbornly clinging to life until her purpose is met.

She meets his eyes. “Go, Wolf,��� she says around a mouthful of blood.

Solas snaps from his shock, and the Dread Wolf forms a cloak around him. His instinct is to run. Run now, while the spear is lodged so deeply into Protection that he can see blood streaming through the back of her armor.

Alenriel grips the spear with both shaking hands even as Andruil attempts to wrench it free.

The Wolf lunges, and his jagged teeth meet Andruil’s neck. He tears it open, rending bone from cartilage and artery from muscle. The Hunter yells her anger as the arterial spray paints both Wolf and Protection in her hot blood. Andruil buries a dagger in his chest, but his jaw remains shut.

Another cry, this time a war cry, a battle song, as Alenriel thrusts her sword into her once-master. With the last of her strength, Alenriel twists the blade.

Andruil rips the dagger from his chest and swipes blindly. It slices Alenriel’s cheek before the Hunter drives it under the Wolf’s maw. His grip is broken at last, the pain white hot along his slack jaw. But his claws are just as sharp as his teeth. He raises a mighty paw and it connects with such force on Andruil’s face that she stumbles back. But the force allows her to free her spear at last from Protection’s side.

Alenriel falls to her knees, the sound of armor hitting stone reverberating in the courtyard.

Solas had not noticed the battle quiet. Both armies watch as their two gods fight their bloody duel. There are no eyes on Alenriel.

Andruil’s face is twisted in hatred, as pure and unflinching as the sun. Blood from the hanging ruins of her neck flows freely down her armor. He is wounded, but hers would be fatal were she not propped up by her dragon thrall.

No longer the prey, he is the Great Beast. His fear is suffocating, but his rage is overpowering. His eyes blaze with the raw power of the Fade and the muscles of his flank tense as he prepares a killing blow.

Andruil shouts a threat, but her ruined voice can manage only a primal, impotent roar. The Wolf laughs, and readies the lunge.

But she flees. The goddess of sacrifice unwilling to be a martyr, she and her spear quit the battlefield.

Solas lets go of the beast, collapsing as himself beside Alenriel. He drags himself to them.

Protection’s eyes flutter once before she dies. He buries his head in the cooling flesh of their neck, and his blood mingles with hers. 

Solas looks into her glassy, vacant eyes, and thinks them as full of fire as when she lived. With shattered bones in his jaw and victory on his lips, he falls upon her.

It is all the time to grieve that battle will allow. Andruil’s forces are rattled. His army needs to press the attack. His army needs him. Were their roles reversed, he knows Alenriel would stand.

“Dareth’atish, mirthadra mytha,” he rasps, his lips bloodying her forehead. “Mar hellathen halam. Nar’revas.”

So stands Fen’harel. His legs shake but his ruined voice is firm. He looks from his Protection to his army. His eyes blaze with the Fade, and his orb promises destruction. 

Be at peace, noble guardian. Your struggle has ended. You are free.

[del-stars]

and if i said sirius and walburga….?

[ddoofu]

so i watched

and decided to make this

I call him Pipisible

[adm-starblitzsteel-4305]

Astra: dad? Am i ugly?

Godzilla: what? No. You are the most beautiful girl in the world

....

Meanwhile

Batzilla: dad? Am i ugly

Battra: VERY!

THAT WAS ABSOLUTELY RUDE, BATTRA!!! HE'S YOURS AND SPACEGODZILLA'S SON!

Batzilla: Papa?

SpaceGodzilla: Yes?

Batzilla: Daddy says I'm very ugly.

SpaceGodzilla: ...

SpaceGodzilla: Absolutely handsomely ugly you are.

[daevabadfanart]

Character cards of Nahri, Ali, Dara, Muntadhir, Zaynab, Jamshid, and Manizheh, from Fae Crate's 2020: The Empire of Gold Hangover Recovery Kit. Drawn by m_maf_f on Instagram with collaboration from the author S. A. Chakraborty.

[aroace-spec-empire]

SOBBING WHAT HAS MY BROTHER DONE TO BUBBLE? 😭