#big wyrm boi

[tourettesdog]

Pops up from a bush like the short wyrm king I am

Hello my friend!

I am here to interest you in a DP x DC thing I have cause I haven't sent one on tumblr in a while.

This time I shall be finally using the Ghost King Danny hc anyways.

Ghost King Danny has just recently lost his friends and family in the nasty burger explosion, unfortunately CW couldn't rewind the accident and so, Danny is left by himself to wallow in hate and misery.

Until he was introduced to Batman. A character who lost everything at a young age but managed to drag himself up and become a hero.

Danny has been spending his everything to acquire comic books of this hero, watching his highs, the lows and cheering him on every step of the way.

Danny love Batman, because he's the only thing that helped to pull him out of his spiral. If he could, he would hug him and never let go.

Meanwhile in the DC universe. Batman has been unknowingly (to the both of them) blessed by the ghost king and highly favored.

During a mission to find and stop a cult from summoning this mysterious 'ghost king' that they want to unleash upon the world to destroy it.

They failed to stop the summoning in time, but instead of this eldritch being beyond human comprehension.

It's instead this small boy. A boy with a crown that's so big on his that it's around his neck, with a cape that looks like universe was weaved upon it.

The boy seemed confused on what happened, looking around and taking in everything slowly, his eyes roamed over the summoning circle laying upon the floor.

The defeated cultists sprawled about, the old, time taken look of the building until his eyes at last roamed over the Justice League.

The boy met Batman's eyes, and in that moment. With a speed that can only be less than the likes of Superman and the Flash, appeared before Batman directly.

The Justice League tenses and prepared for a fight, but instead of attacking the boy only hugged?

The boy's eyes seemed to be small stars themself as he looked up at Batman, and with a small and quivering voice spoke:

"You're real..."

this might be cringe but anyways.

Crawls back into the bush

This is not cringe at all. I actually really love it ahhh <3 ; o ;

The thought of Danny actually finding the person that helped him get through a hard time, when he didn't even think he was real? Very sweet and endearing.

[linka-from-captain-planet]

Florrickology, Part 4.5: "Lady Mizora" really could have fucked

I made this point in Florrickology Part 4, laying out the various simple ways that Larian could have contextualized Florrick confronting Wyll in Act 3 in a way that was a) not stupid and shitty and b) faithful to her characterization, but I've been thinking more about it and holy fuck does it suck that they didn't just capitalize on "Lady Mizora."

Because Ulder threw Wyll away for cavorting a devil, right?

That's unacceptable; there's never an excuse for something so selfish, reckless, and just plain stupid. His son may have been his pride and joy up to that moment, but how could he possibly forgive Wyll? How could he possibly trust him again?

But what if Florrick, his trusted advisor, closest confidant, greatest champion, fondest friend, the person who supported him more than his own family, did almost the same exact thing?

He could blame Wyll. His son should have known better. He raised Wyll better than that.

But... how could he possibly blame Florrick? He knows she's not selfish, reckless, or stupid. He couldn't not forgive Florrick. He couldn't not trust her again.

And... he doesn't look at Florrick and see himself. His hopes and dreams. His triumphs and failures. His beloved wife. He doesn't see a little boy who got misty-eyed over mermaids and loved to go fishing outside of Wyrm's Rock. There are none of those big, gooey feelings that hard-ass leader dad duke guys aren't the best at synthesizing and expressing.

In Florrick, he sees a friend and equal. A paragon of the best of the city. A public servant of the finest mettle.

She was a victim, no doubt about it. Anyone can be a victim, he knows that, no matter how powerful or intelligent or virtuous they are.

But, isn't that unfair? Why is Wyll culpable but Florrick innocent? He'd have to reconcile that. He'd have to look inside himself and understand the real reasons he cast will out, and with that understanding, seek Wyll's forgiveness.

[animeniac-writings]

Obey Me - Dogs, Cats, and More!

Otome: Obey Me Shall We Date

I do have a bit of a bias from having chronic rescue cats. Also I like to think there's demon 'pets', but for the sake of this we'll stick to human-realm known creatures.

Lucifer: He's a bit torn between cats and dogs, he loves Cerberus and the excited loyalty of dogs, but quite likes cats, quiet companionship and often independent. That said, he's a tired dad that will put up with (almost) any animal someone brings home.

Mammon: Your man IS a puppy. For you. His favorite animal/pet/familiar is his crows, he says because they're little pickpockets that bring him shiny things, but he loves them so much and coddles them when no one's looking.

Leviathan: Any aquatic life! Fish, eels, octopi, he finds them a lot easier to relate to and likes going on deep swims to look at them. Has given favor to a few throughout time and in turn extended their lifespan. You once told him he should get a pet lobster, since he will live forever, and with help so can they. Also went to a cat cafe with Satan once and really likes the gentle cat he met.

Satan: Cats. 100% Cat person, one who will buy the toe bean socks and take photos of them with their head in a slice of bread. Buys lots of cat themed items. Taking you (or any of his willing brothers if you're busy) on cat cafe dates are his favorite past time.

Asmodeus: Bunnies and chinchillas. Both for the fact they're fluffy, fat, and so cute! He once had a huge white bunny and adored her, even if she did chew on his makeup brushes sometimes. Would gossip and cry into it's fur, has never had a pet since but still loves holding and petting them (and taking so many pictures).

Beelzebub: Dog person for another puppy like demon boy :) Loves big dogs and little dogs, the dogs that will jump up and lick his face when he comes home, taking Cerberus on runs together. He will have a dog and they will do Everything together, workouts, snack time (with it's own pile to chomp on), matching shirts, will carry it around whether it's a mastiff on one arm or a little shaking thing in a purse he carefully holds.

Belphagor: Cats but he is still fond of dogs. Despite his name and their laziness, it's not sloths. Dogs because they remind him of Beel, but unless it's an old or lazy dog, he will prefer it to stay with Beel too. It can always come nap with him though. Has fallen asleep at many a cat cafe with Satan and woke up to multiple cats on him, they know how to find a good sunspot and he can respect that.

Diavolo: He has always wanted a pet, he would be happy with any pet, loves animals, creatures, doesn't have a favorite but he's heartbroken that most are scared of him. Even Cerberus is weary feeling his power.

Barbatos: Dragons, wyrms, and cats. As a being from millennia long ago before the creation of many animals, and having similarities in his demon form self, he greatly respects beasts of old. And cats are both nice companions, cat be low maintenance, and best of all, will hunt mice and rats. Coincidentally, so will small dragons and the like.

Simeon: Cats and quokkas, he's fond of all animals and will says cats if you ask if he's a "cat person or dog person" but nothing quite matches a smiling quokka in his eyes. If you have any pets they will love him immediately and he gets flustered when you pout complaining he 'stole them from you'

Solomon: Possums. He started feeding a possums once, not even knowing what it was, and ended up taking it with him out of curiosity. Unlike the others who will hold off on getting another pet for missing them with short lifespans, Solomon will always have a few around somewhere. He loves feeding them, handing them each piece of fruit into those little hands.

Luke: He says he loves all animals! He would visit them all in heaven often (it was secretly his favorite place to go), his very favorites were the baby seals and turtles though. Seals with those big wet eyes staring up at him, and turtles because they're so slow and he liked to watch them, and always help the ones that got stuck or flipped over.

[bluegekk0]

Not me imagining the beans(Lewk, Milo and Asta) are balls of energy! I bet they have their calm moments, but I can't get over how cute it is to see them jumping up and down with their arms in the air demanding upies! 🥺

Anyway, Question; How difficult was it to raise the kiddos? I bet Grimm and Wyrm had their hands full! 🤭 Hehehe!

Lewk is definitely very energetic, he can't sit still and wants to be involved in everything his family and other Dirtmouth residents do. He's at the age where he can run and jump around, and even glide a little bit with his wings, so he gives the family a lot of headaches, even if he's generally a very sweet kid. Since Hornet is probably the most agile in the family, it's usually her job to tire him out so that he can fall asleep. Lewk enjoys playfighting a lot, and because Asta and Milo are still young, he has to be gentle with them. But Hornet? She's older and stronger, so she's a worthy opponent. Grimm also often takes that responsibility, I like to imagine he playfights with Lewk similarly to how you'd do so with a cat - with just one hand, since it's so big compared to the cat. I love the mental image of Lewk grabbing and biting Grimm's hand and forearm in a playful manner. Once he gets tired enough, he sleeps like a little baby for the rest of the day, but the next morning it starts all over again.

Like I mentioned, Asta and Milo are still very young. They can walk around, even trot on all fours for short distances, but they mostly stay in their little blanket nest and sleep. Asta is the more curious and energetic one of the two, she's also physically much stronger, so keeping an eye on her is important since she will inevitably crawl out of the nest and try to follow someone outside. She'll playfight with Lewk occasionally, though due to their size and strength difference there are times where Lewk goes a bit too far and accidentally hurts her, which is a sign that Asta's playtime is over. But that doesn't stop her from initiating the "fights", usually by biting Lewk's tail.

Milo is weak and a bit sickly, he spends a lot more time curled up in the nest and sleeping while cuddling a stuffed toy. He is very curious of the world around him, but unlike Asta, he's comfortable just watching everyone from the safety of his warm blankets. He can't keep up with his sister, and especially with Lewk, so they have to slow down for his sake whenever he joins them in playing. But generally he much prefers to stay away from playfighting, and if Grimm or FPK are in the room, he will "meow" at them until they pick him up and cuddle him. He's very close to both of them, and they give him a lot of attention since they're always worried about his well-being. He's definitely a mama's boy type.

Grimm and FPK have their hands full, you're absolutely right, and they did so especially with Lewk since he was their first child together (and Grimm's first child ever). There was a lot they had to figure out, and Lewk's seemingly limitless amounts of energy didn't help. They both experienced plenty of moments of panic when they saw him climb the furniture and try to jump off and fly, especially FPK who's very paranoid in general (Grimm is as well but he's much better at hiding it). But they couldn't be happier about raising him, so it's not a surprise that Grimm suggested having another kid not even a full year later.

They couldn't have predicted that they'd have twins this time around, and two kids means double the responsibility. Luckily they were already far more experienced at that point, so it came to them a lot more easily. Milo definitely made them very worried, he took his time to hatch from the egg and they were scared that perhaps he didn't make it, but eventually they welcomed him to the world. Of course, with his sickly nature they still had to keep a very close eye on him, the first few weeks after hatching are a very important period so they made sure he was getting enough rest, food and care. Asta was a lot stronger, though they gave her just as much attention to make sure she was growing healthy as well.

I mentioned it before, but I have no plans of aging the kids anytime soon. I like the ages they're at currently, they add much needed variety to the family. Lewk is about a year and a half old, and he just started going to school (yeah I'm 100% going with the idea that Quirrel runs a little school for the Dirtmouth children in the town, it's cute and gives him something to do in the AU, since I decided to keep him alive haha). Asta and Milo are roughly two months old, they opened their eyes a while ago and can now say a few words, but are still very much tiny babies that need a lot of care.

At some point I do want to draw some kind of chart showing the growth rate for the kids, but generally I imagine they grow rather quickly in the first year, and then gradually slow down. And since both of their parents are immortal, they eventually stop aging at a certain point, just like Hornet and Holly did. But for now they're still babies, and I want to keep them that way.

[in-a-mountain-pool]

The Dragon Boy (Teaser)

Aemond x Female!Dragonseed OC Vysella

Here is a little teaser of my submission for the HOTD big bang 'The Dragon Boy', with some beautiful artwork to be soon revealed by the amazing @cyeco13 !

It had felt like the end of days, a tragedy painted with vicious strokes of fire and blood. The very ground beneath your feet had shaken, the winds had howled as dragons danced above the skies of the Riverlands in violent flashes of greens and reds, and clashes of razor sharp teeth. Brothers and sisters rode into war for a cause that no longer made sense, as kin marched upon kin, and dragons raged against dragons. History was dying, old magic was fading, all because one man, one King, had made a choice born from love.  But how could love ever endure in a world such as this? How could you fight for a Queen who ordered the death of an innocent child? Or a King that paraded the head of such a gracious beast as Meleys through the streets of Flea Bottom? How could hope live on here at the end of all things, where flames paint the skies, and babes were torn from their mother's arms?  … Helaena’s arms.  Since you’d heard the news from the other Dragonseeds’ on the battlefield you wouldn’t dare speak his name out loud. Bile would rise in your throat at the mere mention of him, the One-Eyed Prince, the Kinslayer, all of these names they’d given him, to the boy with violet eyes who’d captured your heart all those years ago. He had met with his Uncle, your Mentor, above the God’s Eye only a week before. The village folk spoke of a fierce battle, with dragon fire so hot and so ferocious it was like the sky itself had been set aflame, and the Doom of Valyria had raged once more. The two beautiful beasts were said to have torn each other apart, Caraxes the Blood Wyrm sinking her teeth into Vhagar’s neck, before being disembowelled and crashing into the great lake below. He, had always been so careful, even as a child, it was no wonder he’d chained himself so securely to the saddle. Daemon had known this and used it to his advantage. It had been you who had told Daemon so, you who had taught him how to tie the chains to keep him safe. Neither man nor dragon could have survived such a fall. Even a Targaryen Prince.

Full fic to be revealed via @hotd-bigbang November 2023!

[lanaevyssmoved]

as someone who played wyll and astarion's romances back to back it is so blatantly obvious how much favouritism astarion got from larian, he has so much more content you can actually feel the relationship evolve during the story while for wyll you get the dance scene only in act 2, after which you're immediately a couple, and then you get nothing (zero zilch nada) until you finish his personal quest, with the cherry on top being that said personal quest is one of the last you do since you have to save his dad in the iron throne + destroy the steel watch + kill gortash to get access to the wyrm rock prison (sorry if this got long i'm just salty about the shit hand wyll got dealt, i can't help but wonder if there was more to his romance/personal quest before they rewrote it)

i think there are two reasons for this honestly

i think wyll has less content because of his rewrite where they changed his whole story, hiring a new actor, needing to mocap everything again, etc, there's a good chance they didn't have time to add more in. which sucks so fucking bad and i hate it. to me this is a clear "game wasn't ready yet, why are we releasing earlier than scheduled!"

with astarion, swen has already confirmed they were big on checking social media during EA. we know for a fact they checked reddit, there's a good chance they checked twitter too, and the larian discord server. anyone with a brain knows astarion has been immensely popular since day 1. he very quickly became the poster boy for the game and was the one they made the most memes with. astarion got favoured treatment because they knew he was popular and and was selling copies of the game. this also sucks so fucking bad and i hate it

[thejessofmess]

Plight Universe: Genofusion (Hollowtale genocide) Personality: Plight is a fusion of Papyrus (Undertale) and the Hollow Knight (Hollow Knight) and is the definition of a bean 'himbo'. He is sweet, polite, kind, gentle, and believes the best in even the worst people. Nonviolent and will take a stand to defend but not to attack. Loves puzzles (and crafting them), cooking, gardening, and sewing. Jokes like puns or wordplay will go over his head as he often takes them literally. Utterly abysmal at lying but is good at hiding his own discomforts for the good of others. He can be overbearing with his good nature and want to do the right thing but always means well. He has disassociation issues and feels uncomfortable when people mention his height or body. Powers: His specialty is in defense. Able to summon pure light magical shields, chains, pillars. Plight's scythe is a magical weapon as are his wings, though he isn't very mobile on the ground or in the air. The weaverlings are an extension of himself as magical golems that he uses for reconnaissance or as 'bombs' to dissuade attackers. He can tank multiple hits, absorb small bits of energy from attackers when struck, and has self healing...but only for himself, he lacks the ability to heal others. Notes: Plight has no memories of his time before fusion. He is often referred to by others as the 'Wyrm' though he dislikes that name. It's about time this big boy got an updated reference sheet!

[skotiwolves]

My thoughts are so scattered and I can’t grab one to focus on, but I sincerely LOVED episode 5 for so many reasons

TBB ep5 spoilers

Omega and Cross having this… warm relationship. How she’s able to run down the beach on Pabu and sit down beside cross and ask him questions about being a sniper. Laying her hand on his shoulder and giving him advice. Joking with him and having Crosshair chuckle at her ‘little brother’ comment? Absolutely wonderful in every way possible. I cannot wait to see them through the rest of this season

Hunter and Crosshair. Hunter’s extreme distrust and wariness of Cross, understandably so. Hunter shoving Crosshair, wanting answers from him, now that he finally has the chance. That glare present every time he looks at him, not knowing if Cross had something up his sleeve or not. Their argument in the snow.

And yet, their loyalty in still being brothers. Hunters line “not alone. We’ll do it together.” Crosshair (and batcher) tracking him through the ground and digging a hole out for him. Crosshair shouting Hunter’s name when he fell through the ice—a reaction that is real. Cross holding his rifle down for Hunter to grab onto and for him to help pull him to safety. That understanding nod after the wyrm was outside of the sensors. And of course their conversation at the end, them finally starting on up and up to trusting each other again

The general feel of the team. Seeing the boys all with their armor back on was emotional. It felt like old times in the best way possible. And, even with Tech’s absence, omega filled that place of knowledge and skill. It felt like he was still there. It felt like s2 of bad batch. All of them, together, on a mission. Everyone with a role and a part to play to complete it. I love the dynamic of it and I didn’t realize how much I’d truly missed it

Wrecker wrapping Cross and Hunter in one big hug?? Crosshair and batcher being inseparable best friends??? Echo’s arms open wide for omega’s running hug??? AZI being back and helping with Crosshair’s aim??? A visit to Pabu aka where they’ll ALL be at the end of the season when they’re all very much alive and well and safe and NOT dead??? Omega sleeping with Lula in the safety of the ship with hunter and wrecker standing right outside??? The little nod that cross does know about Tech and that he’s very clearly upset over it??? Dad hunter??? Rex on the outside and getting all the info he can so they can all plan to infiltrate tantiss??? The bird from Mayday’s episode??? Cross putting all the clones helmets on the box so they’re not just some trash on the floor???

Exquisite. Phenomenal. One of the best episodes out of the bad batch.

[9bitaleeeeex]

Random fun fact from Hollow Knight that isn't directly stated but is very much implied

Just from looking at The Knight, Hornet, and The Hollow Knight (and knowing they're siblings) we can tell that HK is the oldest, Hornet is the middle child, and The Knight is the youngest So the reason hornet is so aggressive isn't becuase she wants to protect the kingdom, its just a case of the middle child blues.

But going even farther with this we can see that one day Hornet will be as big as HK but that is assuming that HK didnt get the big boy genes from his mother. But even still Hornet's mom is big too. And going even farther we can tell that The Knight's head is going to undergo some weird ass morphing and become moreso shaped like a boomerang than it is now. We also know that this boomerang head trait comes from the pale king oddly enough despite his head both and Wyrm form and current form being a fork. we know this because both Hornet and adult HK have boomerang heads. it is also safe to assume that hornet looked similar to the vessels when she was younger.

the problem is we don't know how the morphing of the boomerang head comes. HK and The Knight are the same age as eachother as seen in the abyss during the climbing section. One theory I have for the boomerang growth is that i comes from training. We know that both HK and hornet were trained in combat so that could be where it comes from. We cann 100% rule out the posibilty of this growth coming form the influence of radiance although it is shown with traitor lord that it can physically change you. we can rule this out becuase of the pure vessel fight it shows that HK was like that before having the radiance sealed in them.

this was random and probably incoherent but i really wanted to talk about it

[paragonrobits]

Marckus after the bar fight and recovering from his injuries, noticing something in the sky: Huh. Anyone else see a bright red star up there? Inexplicably brighter than Venus? Giving off this really unpleasant vibe of horrific evil and impending doom?

Kitten: Oh yeah, I see it too. Have for years. Dunno why no one else seems to.

Door: Whatever are you two looking at?? I see nothing.

Boy: THE EYE OF THE WYRM HAUNTS MY DREAMS. IT BLINKS AND BALOR GAZES DOWN AT US.

Big D: -does the mother of all spit takes-

Kevin: Oh shit.

[loksthegreat]

tell me about your most insane awful targ oc! and some brief summary of each of visenya's children? (looks, personality, spouse, fate etc)

Okay! sooo Visenya has 15 children that survive infancy so I’ll do a list up of those first and then maybe do a second post about my most insane targs, depending on how long this one’s gonna be!!

First we have Maegor II (103-157AC) he has his moms Valyrian features, hes somewhat buff (for a Targaryen man at least) and sun tanned from spending time in dorne. He was often teased for not having a dragon as a boy (Daemon gave him an egg, but it hatched into a Wyrm and took a bite it of his cheek, when he was a baby) so he’s a bit bitter and put all of his energy into becoming a great warrior, which paid off and eventually earned him the nickname of ‘the warrior among men’ (because u know the warrior from the seven), he’s always been serious and very focused on being the perfect heir and later king. He was 7 when Otto and Vissy fought so bad that they didn’t talk for 4 years, he’s a big mommas boy so he never really got close to Otto after that. He married princess Velaris Martell in 120 when they where both 17, (Visenya made a deal with Vels aunt and possibly fucked her dad to make that happen) they only knew each other for a year beforehand, but the marriage went surprisingly well, apart from their problems to conceive a child for the first 11 years. I head canon Maegor as a big fat asexual so that may have something to do with that… well they end up king and queen anyway in 149, they are good at ruling and Maegor claims Vermithor upon his moms death, so he can’t go and defeat the Pirates and fleet of the three sisters that attack from the stones! He has 6 kids in total, his daughter Rhaenys becomes queen after him and he is remembered as the warrior king. In 157 Maegor grabbed Blackfyre and was about to storm of and mount Vermithor after hearing about Aurys death, but had a stroke and died. (Also funfact: Visenya had a vision of Maegor the cruel during labor and on the ride to dragonstone (it was her first dragon flight) so she named him that. Otto is not a fan).

Baelor I (105-130AC) is a lot easier, he takes after his father in appearance, save for the violet eyes, he wears his hair in a bit of a snappy short cut, that he probably did himself (without a mirror) and is also relatively build, he lost an eye during his pirating years, so he usually wears an eye patch. He was very close to Maegor as a kid, his disappearance in 120 was a hit for Maegor. Baelor, Jaehaeron and Aerion were always big fans of their uncle Corlys and spend a LOT of time on Driftmark learning how to sail and all that oceany stuff. In 120 he was allowed to join Corlys on his journey to the stones for the first time and promptly got lost and picked up by pirates, his family thought he was dead and he didn’t know where the f he was so he just spend some time living his life until in 128 AC his brother Aerion stumbles upon him in Braavos and takes him home. He never marries and is generally not a very good time to be around. Probably the most traumatized out of Vissys kids. He fights for Visenya at sea and drowns when his ship is destroyed in 130 AC, though it’s a bit of a rumor that he just when back to the stones to return to his common life.

Saeron I (106-154AC) is the older one of Vissys first twin boys, he’s the most gentle and soft spoken of her generally pretty feral kids, he’s pretty with long silver hair, violet eyes, a rather feminine face and slender but tall build. He’s found of music and poetry, which is why he is called ‘prince silver tongue’ in comparison to his twin who needs a sword to get what he wants while Saeron just talks his way round the house all day every day. He’s married to Lady Zahna Dayne, she’s a fierce woman with a sharp tongue and a liking for swordsmanship, she’s also in love with his twin, while Saeron would rather be married to her cousin Ser Aryon of his mothers kingsguard, sooo u Von imagine it’s not that great of a marriage, (they’ve been married since 126 AC, after 6 years of engagement, because no one thought they were actually gonna marry). They have have 3 children, (which might be Rhaenars…) and Saeron would def get on the insane list for being religious lunatic and self proclaimed prophet, but he’s not all that awful!

Rhaenar I (106-144AC) is the younger twin and one of my favorites to be honest, he’s taller than Saeron, slender but well trained, with long straight silver hair and Ottos blue eyes, he looks like Saeron because of the hair but he’s not as pretty. He’s his moms biggest supporter and would def have been on her kingsguard if the opportunity had been there. He’s known as ‘Silverlance’ or ‘Steelskiss’ and as you may have guessed he’s a great swordsman, but despite what the nickname suggests he can be quite charismatic and a smooth talker as well. He was in love with his aunt Rhaena III from a young age but she died before they could be together. After that he took a liking to his brothers betrothed and spend more time with her than Saeron during her visits to the Keep and Dragonstone. He married Baela (daemons daughter) in 132 and had 4 children with her. He was out fighting in 144 AC when the city was under attack and dismounted his dragon to follow an enemy into a tower, he was slain it what became known as the silver night, because it also saw the end of 2 kingsguard knights, by an unknown enemy, his body was dragged back to the red keep by ser Aryon Dayne (he’s gonna get a promotion for that) and bleed out in the man’s arms. It is very much unknown who killed him, since he was an undefeated knight (Baela burned down the part of the city in which he was killed later).

Jaehaeron I (108-130AC) was born on the step stones, since Visenya was currently fighting, Corlys had to help with the delivery cause there weren’t any midwives (he did not recover from that ever, even though he sure likes to rub it in with Otto) he strongly takes after his father in looks. Jaehaeron never married, since his mom was saving her children’s hands to make alliances. He was a decent swordsman and formidable archer. He enjoyed Sailing and during the dance he would sail up the rivers of the Vale and upon being killed in battle with a rebellious house of the vale, he is said to have come back to live twice and set sails for Dragonstone to support Baelors fleet, he didn’t make it in time, but managed to severely destroy the enemy ships before succumbing to his injuries alone on the shores of Dragonstone. Many belief that his Ghost still haunts the island and it’s castle. He is often used as a symbol of a revenge and remembered as the ghost of Dragonstone and the demon of the gullet.

Aurys I (110-157AC) was born a good 8 and a half months after Otto and Visenya split, and duo to his strong resemblance of prince Daemon there are some rumors about him being a bastard, he wears his hair at shoulder length and is the shorts of Vissys children, supposedly born prematurely. He was called ‘the small prince’ for most of his youth until he made a name for himself as a warrior, when killing three armed assassins from across the narrow sea that were tasked to kill the princes and her children, at only 12 years of age, after this he became known as ‘ser bloodnight’. He is a intelligent man and strategic advisor to his mother and later brother. He died in 157 in one of the first battles of the war of the Riverlands, falling from his dragon, and being impaled on a large lance. He was married to Rhaena IV (daemons daughter) they had only one daughter, Elaena I, who was said to be the spitting image of her father.

Okay so this took longer than I thought and it’s late so I’ll just update this with the other kids and the mad targs tomorrow cause I’m tired. Also if you wanna see some art of Visenyas kids I have a series of I think 6?? Posters with little introduction of them on them, I’ll see if I can tag them here, but check them out anyway!!! As always feel free to ask any more questions you might have!!

[amphiptere-art]

Dragon personality chart

To explain the simplified names. Also here's a separate thing I made that explains what dragons go under the different types.

West = standard medieval, four legs, two wings.

East = Asiatic dragons. Big serpentine flying boys with four legs.

Wyvern = wyverns. Two legs, two wings, generic scaly bird.

Drake = Drake. Scaly cat. Four legs. Land walker.

Basil = basilisk or salamander. Multi-legged (four legs +) non-flying dragons.

Wyrm = Wyrm. Terrifying giant scaly snakes.

Lind = lindworm. Two legs. Mostly snake-like.

Amph = Amphiptere. Two wings. Mostly snake-like.

This goes along with this personality type chart/quiz. I will also Include the image of the chart that allows for an easy way to do this quiz also at the end.

This is not a finite chart and should not be taken literally. Plenty of dragons can exhibit different personalities. And in my head cannon, they usually do. This is simply what is common or expected. Also, there are less dragon types than personalities. Which is why some of the dragons have a star next to them, which, basically just means that it was the second option.

Remember this is my opinion on what different dragons act like. In my first draft technically, many of the Dragons had similar personalities. I purposely shifted it so that the different dragons would each have their own personality type instead of sharing them. So this isn't even what my original head canon even says the Dragons personality types are.

If you do want to take this quiz and chart. please tag or reblog what dragon you are. I would love to know the results.

[wellthebardsdead]

My heart is melting writing both Vivi being mentored by voryn & nerevar and shown how to love himself and little Wyrm getting a happy and healthy home with Urag 😭😭😭 just- the usually big grumpy orc giving this tiny elf boy a bath, feeding him a proper meal and tucking him into a big comfy bed after teaching him to read 10 books! And instead of going to bed he sits up carving a Pearl into a prosthetic eye for the little elf!

[shallyne]

Feysand Week Day 3: Family

Mother of Nightmares

It's a bit angsty but it's gonna be fine 👀 I promise, 👀👀 @officialfeysandweek2023

Words: 1.167

TW: Under the mountain, children under the mountain, implied violence

Feyre needs to save her son, the time is ticking

Feyre never felt as much joy as she did when she held her baby boy. It was early in the morning and Nyx had stirred awake a few minutes prior and she had quietly tip-toed over to him, careful to not wake her mate, and picked him up. The morning sun was illuminating his wooden crib, as Feyre cooed at her baby, earning toothless grins, grins that lot up Feyre's entire world, rivaling the sun. Her little boy tried to grab her hair but she shook her head, smiling at him. Nyx settled on grabbing her finger, trying to chew on it as Feyre heard a rustling outside her bedroom door. She whipped her head towards it, listening to any indication where the noise came from.

Her heart stumbled in her chest and she tried to press Nyx closer to her but she didn't feel anything. Looking down at her arms, Nyx was gone. She wasn't holding him anymore. The crib was empty. "Rhys?" she breathed, looking to their bed but the sleeping form of her mate was gone too. Panic started to rise inside Feyre, dread building up but she had taken deep breaths and took big and fast steps towards the door. Nyx couldn't be far, that was impossible. He probably winnowed out of her arms, for the very first time, and Rhys had followed him. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she stepped into the long hallway of the river house. Rhys? she shot down the bond, into inky darkness. Rhys didn't answer. "Nyx!" she called out, panicked. A crash behind her made Feyre whirl around, looking through an archway, into the cell she was in under the mountain. Whirling back again, she stood in the long tunnels under the mountain, panic clawing at her. This wasn't possible. She was out. She was alive. Shaking her head, Feyre rubbed her eyes. No. No. No. She had to–

A cry stopped her train of thoughts. A cry she was so familiar with, she could make it out everywhere. Nyx. He was crying, he needed her. Feyre ran towards the noise, through the cold and damp tunnels until she found herself in front of familiar, big double doors. She ignored the panic that this place brought up in her, only listening to the cries of her baby as she crashed into the throne room. The same crowd that she had witnessed back then, under the mountain, was there but the room was eerily still. Feyre walked through the crowd until she saw two figures, which made her blood freeze. At the other end of the room she saw Amarantha leaving the throne room, Rhysand in tow. "Rhys!" she stumbled forward, the echo of Nyx's cries not growing closer, neither did they drift away. "Rhys!" she called again when she ran through the door. He turned around, his violet eyes glassy boring through her. "Rhys." she said, softly, grabbing his arm. Feyre looked over his shoulder, as Amarantha's figure grew more and more distant. "We need to find Nyx!" she hadn't realized she cried until a tear dropped down on her chest.

"Nyx?" Rhys asked, sounding confused.

"Yes, Nyx!" she said. "Our son!" she sobbed. "Please!"

Rhys only stared at her until Nyx's cries grew louder, and his terrified voice called "Mama!"

Shocked, Feyre let go of Rhys and looked to the door on the opposite wall, walking towards it. When she looked over her shoulder, Rhys was gone. Feyre cursed, her heart hurting so much she was sure it was ripping apart inside her chest, but she didn't follow. She had to get Nyx, right now. Her baby. She stormed through the archway, standing behind a cheering crowd. Fighting herself through the Fae, the clinking of coins as they placed their bets. When she finally found the front, she stared at the pit right in front of the crowd. The Middengard Wyrm. Feyre stepped to the edge, expecting to see herself in the midst of it. She could make out Amarantha on her throne to Feyre's left, Tamlin sitting beside the throne, as she stared down. Familiar blue eyes met hers. Her eyes. Nyx's eyes. "No!" she screamed, as Nyx started calling to her. "Stop that!" she yelled to Amarantha. "I volunteer! I'll do it! Let him out, he's a child!" her sight turned blurry.

Feyre, Rhys spoke into her mind.

She fell to her knees, crawling forward, "Please!" she cried, Nyx's cries echoing in her mind.

Feyre! Rhys's voice sounded louder in her mind.

A thump below her made her heart stop, her blood freezing and a roaring in her ears drowned out any outside noise. The Middengardwyrm crashed through the wall, slithering towards Nyx. "No!" Feyre screamed, throwing herself towards the pit.

FEYRE, Rhys roared, and something yanked her back so hard that everything around her blacked out.

"No, Nyx!" she sobbed, her voice raw. "Nyx! Let me go, I need to-"

"Feyre!" Rhys's voice sounded so close. "Open your eyes, Feyre darling." he ordered, "Open your eyes, now."

A sob wrecked through her, but she listened. Feyre opened her eyes, staring right into Rhys's worried, starlit eyes. She couldn't breathe, she had to get Nyx. Feyre tried to push Rhys away, but he stayed exactly where he kneeled beside her. "Nyx is fine." he turned, so Feyre could look at the wooden crib that stood at the side of their bed, a protective shield shimmering around him. Two shields, Feyre realized. One of Rhys, and one that she threw over his crib. "Did I-*

Rhys nodded. "You protected him, Feyre. He's fine. He's sound asleep."

Feyre sat up, looking at her son. She could make out his small, sleeping form. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. Warm tears spilled down Feyre's cheeks. "He's okay?"

"He is. More than okay." Rhys said, stroking soothing circles over Feyre's back. "I think I saw him smiling in his sleep."

Feyre smiled but she had a feeling it came out all wobbly. She threw her hand over her face, crying as everything came crashing down on her.

Rhys shuffled and soon he pulled her into his lap, slowly whipping back and forth as he whispered to her. "It was just a dream. He's safe, we're safe. We are out." he repeated that. Again and again and again until Feyre could breathe again. She relaxed more and more every time he repeated it. They were safe. They were out. They were safe. They were out.

Her throat hurt. Her heart hurt. Her head hurt. Everything hurt.

She barely noticed Rhys standing up, still holding her in his arms, and changing the covers with a snap of his fingers. He put her back on the cool sheet, tucking her under the blanket and then wrapping his arms around her. Still whispering in her ear. Feyre barely heard anything. She didn't sleep that night, her eyes solely trained on Nyx.

He was safe.

Her son was safe.

Feysand Taglist:

@captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship @edgyellie @starfall-spirit @rhysiedarling @corcracrow @sydney-fae25 @tothestarsandwhateverend @aayo-whatt @dreamlandreader

[bogbiter]

League Concept: Flying Wyverns (ft. THROGG?!?!)

Hello beasties! Remember that guy I was rewriting? This man started in the same train of thought as Kyridon. Actually he was the OG. And he was admittedly not as cool. Or lore wise, thought out. He was PURELY designed for being a monster champ with a brawler kit.

And boy he has grown in concept since the start of 2021.

Let me tell you about a troll. His name is Throgg

Throgg from Warhammer Fantasy is one of the most intelligent individuals in the Old World. And most definitely the most intelligent troll period. While his original appearance did not paint him as especially bright, if just exceptionally competent in tactics. Yet The Kinslayer and End Times saga painted him a far more intelligent force. Like, he was Warhammer Fantasy's take on Smaug, having such a Shakespearean flair that one did not expect from some senior aged troll.

milkandcookiesTW does an exceptional video on the dude, and I do recommend reading Kinslayer as they not only make him the big bad, but also just because Felix and Gotrek books are just swag.

What does this do with our boy here? Well, the story below details that juxtaposition between pure predator and architect of the future of an entire species. Also yes we're revisiting the Freljord again fuckers because the Northern Lands of Ice and Frost need more things to kill you.

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In the Frozen lands, there lies the ancestral site of the Laitivern, the original Rulers of the Sky. For Generations, hundreds of  these wyvern clans would roost within the massive elder volcano of Wyrms Furnace, their kin dominating the skyline. And at one point they were not just limited to the Freljord either, for they had in older days conquered the world. They were cunning, and recognized that in a world of great beasts, numbers overwhelming lead to victory. They existed alongside Man, Troll, Minotaur, and Vastaya, but they were not on equal terms. They raided Man and Minotaur, competed with Troll, and preyed upon Vastaya. Their namesake became synonymous with dragons, for a flock of wandering Laitiverns could very easily overwhelm a territory and strip it of livestock and soldiers. 

The Rune Wars changed this dynamic however, for the sorcery unfolded onto the world would scar the lands they called home. Magibeast once dormant before days of creation rose up, and tempered the land in strange horrific ways. Magic radiated into new and terrifying plagues, and for as clever as the The Laitivern were, they did not know how to combat these new threats. But the other races did, and though they too had an uphill battle, they gained a footing when the Laitiverns themselves could not. They disappeared from most of the world, and those who resided in the Freljord soon found that Man and Troll had grown stronger. Now their meals were stolen away, or their hunting flocks ambushed and feasted upon. Some of these terrible magic plagues tore into scales like scalding iron, and left them too weak to fly. And those who could not fly, they starved. Many clans were razed in this era, and the Laitivern went into hiding, less they attracted the unwanted attention of Dragon Hunters and Slayers.

Those around the Freljord could sometimes go weeks without a successful kill. And as the magibeast roamed the land, and the shamans spread themselves out far and wide, those at Wyrm's Furnace had an idea to feed on them instead. The flesh of Balestag or Frost Casting Yeti could suffice a flock for much longer than a typical boar or cave bear. These hunts were not… always successful… but those who came back proved themselves the most capable and cunning of their flock, and were awarded the title of Mach'dala, or "Soul Downer''.

To their surprise, the young that ate upon the sweet meat of these corrupted creatures seemed to grow a powerful resistance to crippling frost magic, or bolts of channeled fire. Seeing positive effects of their more daring hunts, the tradition carried on, and slowly did their magical potency grow as those same hatchlings would then grow up into Mach'dala themselves. Near the modern age, as Noxus crashed the gates of holds in the east of the Freljord, some Laitiverns could deflect the magic, and those that had hunted shamans could now bring their own runic powers to the hunt. But they had also harnessed in this time the "Styg '', or "Wrath". The ability to breathe a clouded emission black as storm clouds and rolling with red thunder,  that could direct at prey and foe alike. The Laitivern became known as Galdrveiðrormr, or as the Mage Hunter Wyverns. And those of Wyrm's Furnace grew bold, and even with Anivia in the skies… they claimed the heavens as their domain.

Wyrm's Furnace however was full of more Laitiverns than the Mach'dala. There were the Oldsouls who guided the roost and healed its soldiers, the Foragers who gathered supplies for nesting and firemaking, the Bouncers who protected the roost, and the Carvers, who carved out rock for them to build more nests and roosts. An apt home for hatchling, with many careers to seek. Among a clutch of eggs that belonged to a esteemed Carver and Mach'dala, was Veyolkos. 

It was very clear after he hatched he was born a gifted hatchling, with his scales sharpening very early on, and learning to glide within a month of hatching. But this caused the problem where he was a bit too curious. Curiosity in the Freljord for even humans and Yordles has to be tempered, otherwise death would be the answer to the inquiry. So they kept him near the Oldsouls, who had no qualm with watching a hatchling. Except Veyolkos the moment he learned to speak, had too many questions. He asked why they collected spears, and was told they were warrior's trophies. When he asked if he could make a spear, the elders were dumbfounded, and had no idea if they could. Humans seemed to make them with ease, but they were so thin the Laitivern's saw them as an inconvenience. What use was a weapon if you were already so dangerous unarmed. He didn't like the answer, and attempted to make such spears. And then axes. And then disastrously, a bow. After a few days and a few more missing scales and bruises from the Laitivern Chick's attempted craftsmanship, they relieved Veyolkos of their watch, the Oldsouls growing tired of his boundless energy and always fidgeting talons resulting in injuries around the roost. 

This was unseemly, as chicks could easily get lost or snatched up by an Azurite Eagle. But a few experienced foragers agreed, for his mother couldn't take him as she hunted far more dangerous beasts, and his father worked near falling stone for a living. Taking him under their wing, they showed them the shells they used to forage water, and the branches they searched for that carried the healing ingredients needed for the Oldsouls to use. They showed him flint, and chunks of metal along the cliff faces that helped start flame. And this, seemed to get him wondering if the wood they harvested for the fires couldn't be used to make something else. Especially seeing how easily the wind could snatch their cache from their talons. So he took to some branches, and as the veterans foraged, attempted to make a basket. He had never seen a basket, but he figured something that could hold multiple supplies at a time they could carry in their jaws and talons, was far easier. And to his chagrin, after six fell apart, the seventh carried back 3 shells of water and a bundle of medicinal batteries. The Veterans were curious about the little thing, and asked the young hatchling how it was made. And Veyolkos was more than happy to show.

As he grew into a Yearling, he would continue as a forager. Though he would not lie, he wasn't particularly fond of just being a forager. Yes he made baskets for collecting, but he also wanted to make more with the sticks, bones, and stones at his disposal. So he made for larger baskets yes, and sleds to make transporting caches easier, but he also took to equipping himself with armor. Most notably, taking the hides of kills and tanning them to make leather. To make into stripes. And to create spears around his face and shoulders, as to create a formidable defense as he and other foragers would descend into the valley to steal from the Freljord's wolves and bears. Veyolkos despite his size would always attempt to lead the attack, for though he was similar in size to the bears he believed his craftsmanship would stand the test against them. And the first couple attempts did not. But he learned to treat the wood with flame, and sharpen the bone instead of just relying on its broken pieces. And soon his body was among the veterans as they reaped hard earned scraps, as he tore into their furred hides with sharpened blades and claws, bringing back extra to be eaten, and additionally bringing him more materials to work with. 

Though the Bouncers found his designs to be… the work of a fledgling that had yet to realize his true strength, the Foragers were more than happy to use his new equipment. Veyolkos at first believed he could create a new career, here in Wyrm's Furnace. As much as he enjoyed gathering, he couldn't help but feel it would be wasted potential. While others saw shapes and landmarks, he saw patterns. Patterns that could be manipulated and made into something new. For his siblings he created shields of bone and hide, to protect their sides once they were applied. When they went off to hunt, they wouldn't be as scathed by a predator's blows, but they did return with the armor mangled and torn. Which only incentivised him to cure leather and toughen the hide at his disposal.

But at two years of age, all his planning and testing was interrupted by his mother. His mother saw his tinkering not as the work of a brilliant mind or an opportunistic artist, but a soul yearning for conflict. Wolves and Elk wouldn't cut it, no, he'd need bigger prey. She told him that since he could fly with expertise now, that he must return home with magically gifted prey. Veyolkos was mortified at first, for he had heard his mother's stories of those beasts beyond in the Old Pines and Evergrowth. But before he went out, he asked her to let him prepare for it. She accepted, and for 2 months he fastened himself a suit of leather, bone, and took from an abandoned den, a worn out and torn chest piece of steel to make as a helm. And so he went out on his hunt, soaring through the skies in ragged armor. There amidst stormy skies he scoured, the pelts of his armor keeping him protected from the bite of winter's wind. 

The storm he flew into made it so visibility was low, but amidst the flurry he caught sight of a fire deep in a cave. He perched outside of it, resting atop the mouth of the cave, as he let himself lay low and hid beneath the white blanket of the precipitation. There he saw a lone man, decorated in bear furs moving back to the cave, unaware of the danger lurking above his own refuge. He had heard of Shamanic Werebears, and wondered if though not the largest kill to make, if it would draw the praise of his roost. This was his first magibeast to down, not fed to him in shreds from the mouth of an elder or his mother.As soon as the shaman passed under the roof of the cave Veyolkos shot forward like a panther leaping towards a bird in flight. His body contorted, facing the man as the man instinctively entered his Ursine state. The two collided, bouncing into the cave as both tried to land their jaws on the throat of the other. But Veyolkos’s face spears became too difficult to navigate around, and so the Ursine departed, bleeding from his chest and arms, and tried to find a new way to attack this armored Laitivern. Veyolkos would look around, to find that indeed, Laitivern scales were used in the making of spears and axes. He snapped his jaws as the Ursine tried to rush for his flank, only to pull away, revealing that hidden along their neck was the teeth of bear, wolf, raptor… Laitivern. This Shaman most likely had experience, and knowing killing a slayer like him could prove dangerous to his people, he immediately went to flee, only to feel the Ursine crash into him and knock him over, immediately trying to go for his chest, yet seemed somewhat stunned when his claws only struck hide and stone. Which he had still torn apart, but had not reached the vitals of the Laitivern. Taking advantage of the situation, Veyolkos slapped the Ursine onto its back, and flipping himself up with cat-like agility. He plunged his head spears into the Ursine Man’s side and continued the fight, as the bear man clawed away at his face only for Veyolkos to plunge his spears deeper into the shaman. The struggle was long and brutal, Veyolkos withdrawing only after the Ursine stopped swiping away with their claws. His own face was a bloody mess, but beyond the blood flowing down his eyes, he was able to see the man’s bag. Torn up during their brawl, he noticed its contents included a long scroll, made from the skin of a seal. He nabbed it and the man’s body, flying off with his catch.

He returned to his mother and the elders, presenting his kill as he panted, before showing off his armor. He harshly dropped the shaman before their feet, before ripping a chunk out of the Ursine’s flesh, harshly gulping down the pelt and viscera. He couldn't hear anything they said, but he assumed he had pleased them. He climbed to the top of the Qyrm's Furnace, and took to studying the runes engraved onto the pelt, occupied only by the howl of the wind.

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            Laitivern mature rapidly at a young age, then it slowly peters out once they reach twelve years of age. As sub-adults they are not yet old enough to court or start their own clutch, but they can hunt amongst one another with some independence. Veyolkos had decided to flip flop between the Forager groups and Mach'dala. Amongst his siblings he was an alien, they adhered to the ways of old. And so he was most regarded not as a pack mate, but a tag-along. And so on their hunts he'd disappear for a time, since they wanted nothing to do with his inventions. But that was fine for Veyolkos. He'd begun smiting since he was seven, and had outfitted his talons with claws befitting a king. Silver he had learned, had some properties that could protect him from the surge of energy his prey usually outputted. Mystical stags he'd search for, not awake. For their speed was so frighteningly swift he could never keep up. When he found such prey he'd make sure they were sleeping. Sometimes he'd silently move in and pin the magibeast down, eating them alive. Other times he just found it easier to grab a large chunk of ice or a boulder to drop on them and concuss them. Before taking his talons to their throat. Should he find the campsites of hunters, he'd make sure none were around before taking any armor or artifacts they possessed as novelties to research. Most treasured to him was literature,for even power fantasies where the author obviously transposed himself into his work he found utterly fascinating. His favorite thing to catch he had created a pulley system just to harpoon the beast: The Frost Serpent. He had found their hide was too sharp and smooth to gain purchase with talons, and they moved so quickly that it would be a miracle to catch their giant eyes to rangle the beast. So Veyolkos had learned to harpoon them as soon as possible, and cranking the pulley could effectively keep one in place and slowly drag it to be butchered. His siblings called it cheating and barbaric. He called it an opportunity, for their sharp scales and fangs made for excellent blades and armor scaling.

         Among his foraging kin he'd fashion them nets, should everyone be feeling more in the need for fish and seal. And he'd create great traps to capture Elnüks. The Foragers also noted how he often searched for herbs when they were available, and whatever food they had he would use them on the meat. At first they found it strange to add greens to their carrion, but when cooked, or he put it in a stone pot he had made and boiled them together, opinions changed quickly. He was always fast on the wing, and that made him exceptionally good at catching the more mundane prey.  And they knew for a fact he would hunt the yetis that marched around their territory, plucking them straight from the sky only to drop them to the earth, like an eagle does with a tortoise. 

          Though his most macabre behavior of butchery. Impaling his prey to the trees and their branches, so that he could take his claws and remove their hides, and cut their flanks. He had made a basket specifically for this act, and he'd return with the cut pieces and prepare it for whoever was willing to eat from his kills. Sometimes he'd return with the helm of a Frostguard, other times the necklace of the Ursine, and rarely the weapons of the Winter's Claw.  To the Laitivern he was still Veyolkos, but he had heard himself spoken about in times where he lurked in the shadows outside of man's fire glow… as The Windrazor. Veyolkos appreciated the name, and on his 14th year decided that his title should be just that: The Windrazor.

Naturally though as tensions rised in the Freljord, with the coming of the Dominion and the Walled Settlements of the Avarosans, hunts were now far more stressful. Especially now that Wyrm's Furnace was repeatedly being raided by Tribal Yordle, Trolls, and Slayers of The Winter's Claw. To kill a Laitiverns had always been a statement to one's hunting prowess, but their sharp scales and strong hide made for excellent armor and weapon crafting. The Bouncers were strong folk, but they were being overrun. As some bouncers fell after raid after raid, and The Mach'dala themselves would fall,  Veyolkos stopped his hunts, and stayed behind to watch over his kin's ancestral site, ready to prove himself capable of protecting their roost. He took to what resources he had, and through convincing, equipped the remaining Bouncers In Armor, protecting their faces and chest, yet still allowing them to shoot their scales out at the enemy. He asked upon the Carvers to find fine stone deep within Wyrm's Furnace, and bring it to him. There he'd teach them, including his own father, to make blades for the tails of The Bouncers, and these blue, steel-shining great blades were so refined in quality that they could take down scores of men, and even without their cutting edge the weight alone could crush a troll's skull. 

He rallied the foragers and equipped them in shields that protected their flanks, and branded their heads with metal spears and their chest with plates made of thick hides and stone. They would go out there to scout first the whereabouts of these hunters, using the cover of night and thunderstorm to determine exactly how these raiders planned to take them. Mach’dala and Bouncers occupied any forces coming from their east and north, while they determined the best possible way to strike. Veyolkos also searched out the Vellox tribes that wandered near their territory, and communed with Yetis. He raised to them teh cruelty they had been experiencing, and how together, they could not only protect Wyrm’s Furnace, but all those in the freljord. He was no longer just trying to protect the Laitiverns, he was amassing an army to do so. He asked his siblings and mother to aid him in such encounters, and at first confused and just going along, they had not the slightest idea why? Only to see Vellox cowering and Yetis lowering their ice clubs in their presence, as Veyolkos spoke with haunting authority, though the other Mach’dala could not discern what he was saying. They would bow to each other, and then the non-laitiverns would leave. Only for Veyolkos to tell them each time:

“Numbers make us look professional. A mad Laitivern rambling does not hold the same power unless occupied by his kin. Especially if he speaks their tongue.”

He would soon talk with the Oldsouls his next set of plans, to continue teaching the carvers how to sculpt armor, and to carve out more dens for the new alliances.. The Oldsouls at first seemed offended by the preposition. They lambasted him for getting distracted. He had always needlessly complicated everything with redundancy and risks. At first Veyolkos let them ramble on, insulting his plans and his reliance on historical enemies, and his cruel affection towards melting metal to crudely reshape it. He then snickered after they had their say, and wandered back to his den. But not without departing to them some words, his tone callous,

“I was not asking for permission, I was letting you know.”

Continuously during their scouting, Veyolkos would plunge deeper past their territories to find covens in the moonlight, gliding silently to learn of their language, and their magics. For his many years with the scroll of his first kill, it had yet to dawn on him what it could mean. But as he had gotten older, he had gotten wiser, and more keen to meaning and interpretation. And understanding the magics their enemies often used was part of the battle. Know the enemy, more than they know you. And as he grew to understand the runic languages, he’d return back to the roost. He would make sure armor was being made, weapons being carved, food being prepared and stored. He’d have the foragers learn to create new tonics and wrappings to aid the bouncers, and then he’d retreat to his den. Only to take the scroll out and reach the highest peak to study the writing. The humans were obsessed with things beyond them. They shared that, and yet as he came to rehearse the incantations, he understood the nature of the scrolls. To shape into something else. To shape into another form of beast. He held in this information, and seeing what needed to be done, he tucked it away into his den. And prepared for conflict. Afterall, blood was to be spilled.

----

It turned out a large group of mercenaries, slayers, and soldiers of the Winter’s Claw had made their trek to Wyrm’s Furnace to finally get the materials needed for their employers or clan. War is, in part, a business, and buyers have strict schedules and due dates. As they ventured towards Wyrm’s Furnace, they noted how quiet it was. The Freljord could be isolating and haunting, but even here the wind seemed only distant. And as they reached the edge of the treeline heading towards the clearing, four of them took a step too far to the right, and were suddenly plunged straight into the earth. Looking down at their comrades, all they found was the four impaled on spikes of carved cedar, bleeding out as they stared down at the bottom of the pit. As if on cue, bolts were fired at the encroaching band of hunters and mercenaries. Many mages put up barriers for them and their crew as they ran past the treeline, shields raised for those who did not have arcane energies protecting them. But the bolts had come high from the peaks, before a new wave set upon the encroaching men. These bolts were massive, more akin to ballista as they descended down, taking a seventeen more of the hunters, limiting their numbers. As they saw no Laitivern in the sky, many shouted for their fellow man to take cover, as they rushed for the massive jutting stones that surrounded the mountain. Many took bows or muskets and fired up where the shots were coming from, hoping to score some blows.

Then they heard something coming from where the Laitiverns roosted. An eerie, discordant hymn, and it felt like those at the base of the mountain were no longer alone. They all felt it: something has gone deeply and irreversibly wrong… and they needed to start running. As soon as they were going to reposition, they heard screeching as a great pack of raptors descended upon them. With the beasts’ strong back legs and jagged bills, a few more mercs fell before the raptors were ignited by the magics of the mage or the molten lead of muskets. And yet the raptors stayed firm, dragging people out into the opening clearing. Some of those people dragged out were able to down the beast with spears and axes, and as soon as they stood up to seek cover, they were pelted with boulders. Attacking the hunters now were Yetis, roaring and beating their chest as they grabbed clubs and warpaddles before charging in. Some of them, the smaller white haired primates, fell, but the elders stayed strong and crashed into their flank. 

Retreating up, they soon were beset upon by Vellox, whose snow leopard print helped them camouflage into the mountain, as their human faces suddenly bared saber fangs as robust monstrous winged arms threw them towards the hunters, tussling with them as they scrapped on the steps of the Laitivern’s roosting site. Weapons striked against flesh with the same ferocity of claws and fangs sundering armor. The Vellox had ways to avoid a direct engagement, with some departing to blow onto their foes winter’s cold embrace, freezing them in place. Yet still Vellox would fall, but as they did the Raptors and Yetis charged from behind, hoping to take the hunter’s down with them if they could. And the hymn above became not some eerie whisper, but a chaotic cacophony being blown through the horn of a ram. Before a Vellox would climb onto a rock and chant, and as she began her most terrifying dirge, the roost erupted with the sound of metal and flapping wings.

The chaos that ensued was swift and brutal, as the Laitiverns defended their ancestral site with an unmatched ferocity. The hunters and mercenaries found themselves vastly outnumbered and overwhelmed as descending onto the group like a horde of wasps were the Laitiverns they had come to hunt. Many bolted for the treeline, running as the Laitivern’s armor blocked their shots, and they threw themselves towards the mages, dragging them away as more of their kin flew ahead of the humans, claws lowering as they lifted the men into the heavens, tearing them apart as they took the remains back to the roost. The ground shook beneath the clashing forces, and the air was filled with the sounds of battle cries, roars, and the piercing screeches of the Laitiverns. Many of those from The Winter’s Claw stood their ground, and those slayers were able to counter the aerial dives of the Laitiverns. Yet they didn’t expect to suddenly be confronted by the heavily armored form of Laitivern Bouncers, Yetis, and Vellox barreling down the mountain towards them. Nor the synchronized volleys of scales being thrown at them. 

Veyolkos had expected a larger group, and though mildly disappointed at only two hundred something men, it made his job way easier. He soared through the sky, leading the foragers and his siblings in a coordinated attack. He darted through the air like a dark shadow, shedding his scales like a storm of glinting blades to lacerate and weaken their forces, before with the cold calculation and agility of a falcon in the dive to strike with deadly precision. And when he noted the flank they were striking was in disarray, he lunged for a sorceress clinging behind a rock for cover. He dived down again, tucking in his wings as he descended from a great height towards her. He angled himself to the side and spread out his wings, coasting down towards her with talons outstretched, seeing the hunter witch’s eyes widen as his talons enveloped her chest. As he nabbed her he flew towards the center of combat, letting loose a series of Styg projectiles onto the enemy to scatter their forces. It wouldn’t be long now till they either broke, or were devoured. So as he applied crushing pressure to her ribs within his grasp, he had to act quickly. He flew behind many a peak to hide his position, as he landed on his perch for which he had titled his study, harshly throwing her down.

He grabbed his scroll, and as he set the stone down on the edges of the scroll, she began to scream at him, of course. She had expected to hunt creatures a little above yetis in wit, not, whatever this armored beast was.

“What!? What the fuck are you planning?!”

He scoffed at her, making sure the seal skin scroll was secure as he turned to face her with a look of not pride nor indifference, but the look of a tiger caught stalking its quarry.

“The intellect I have can be gifted unto another. I refuse to see my society surrounded by witless animals.”

Now was her turn to scoff, as she leered at him with a mocking tone.

“Awwww… golden boy feels he’s wasted on chewing bones with the rest of his packmates-”

He slammed his bladed tail onto her with a sudden harshness, the woman hacking and wheezing as she felt her body crumple from the strike, as he approached her with way too much a casual stride, as he picked her up with his wing claws.

“Though river streams and hills grow steeper, man grows a little more shallow. What right do you have to try and belittle me, witless tool? You have come to slay, and now are to be slain. At least your death will merit some greater use!”

She squirmed in his hold, as he held her over the paper, the Laitivern chanting as she screamed for him to let go, a spell loading within her palm to smite the Laitivern. Veyolkos could see the runes begin to glow in her presence, and so he raised his other wing talon, aiming it at her neck, knowing to make it quick-

“I will give you the taste of the beast that you see in me!"

And in a sudden slicing movement she felt skin tear, then muscle, then a tingling warm pooling before her consciousness fled. And she coughed, though as her blood fell onto the scroll, and as it did she too began to fade, though slightly, as color fled from her skin and hair, her body a dull gray wash as the luminance from the pages poured into his chest. The new rush of energy was paralyzing at first, as he stumbled back, her form turning into mere ashes as they blew over his scales, branding his face in white stripes that ran down his nostril and under his eyes, branding some of the patterning in his wings. When he could finally move, he heard Yetis howling, Vellox roaring, and Laitivern’s trilling. He soon flew back to the scene below, as the many parties feasted on those who decided to experience a warrior's death. Veyolkos landed before them, breathing heavily from the exertion of the ritual. They seemed oblivious to what he had done, assuming him to have just been pursuing the marauders. 

To his surprise, the Oldsouls and the Elders approached The Windrazor, their demeanor now changed. They had witnessed the rewards of his planning, and wordlessly bowed to him. He was dumbstruck by the wordless praise he had received. One of respect. His mother and father, having been in the fight, showed their throat to him, the highest level of trust and respect a laitivern could receive. He began to fidget in place, before broadening out his wings, and roaring to the crown a decree. A promise.

“THIS! THIS MARKS THE BEGINNING! TO AN AGE OF BEASTS!”

For now he had the skills gained to understand his enemy… far more intimately than before.

Veyolkos Kit:

Passive-Volatile Coating: The more damage he takes from Epic Monsters, Dragons, or Enemy Champs, the more his energy bar is filled. Once filled Veyolkos can charge his next attacks with draconic energy with increased movement speed for 3 seconds

Q - Voltaic Lunge: Veyolkos lunges towards a targeted location, knocking back any enemy champion or minion he collides with. Upon impact, a searing energy mark is left on the target, dealing physical damage.

W - Thousand Blades: Veyolkos sheds part of his armor for a brief moment, sending shards flying outward in all directions. These shimmering shards damage any enemy champions and minions they hit.

E - Evasive Maneuvers: With lightning speed, Veyolkos rapidly dashes away while releasing Styg energy forward, dealing additional searing damage if performed up close. From a distance, the Styg inflicts minor physical damage.

Ultimate - Flight of The Razorwing: Veyolkos takes to the skies, gaining enhanced mobility. During this time, his abilities undergo changes:

Voltaic Lunge becomes Thunderous Grapple, allowing him to tackle and immobilize a single enemy champion.

Thousand Blades transform into Draconic Cleave, a 360-degree tail swipe that damages all nearby enemies.

Evasive Maneuvers evolves into Laitivern's Dive, granting Veyolkos an arching leap with a powerful energy blast upon landing.

----

Aighty so physically he's gone like over... several hundred iterations. What remains consistent is the general build of Seregios, from the sharp scales, wing walking, and face. While also incorporating the more panthurine movement and tail slams of Nargacuga.

He's also gone through like several hundred actual redesigns, and while he started as just that: A flying wyvern capable of speech, he did evolve more into an analog to Throgg. And while Trundle is a legitimate troll king and is pretty sick, he more or less serves as a modestly competent himbo in a alliance with Lissandra. Veyolkos fills the roll of a cunning beast going through great lengths to ensure he has the means to play his cards correctly. He likes to innovate, he likes to build, but most importantly he likes to share that knowledge to elevate his people. But he also understands the sinister nature of his action, and how it spawned partially from necessity, but mostly through curiosity.

His own desire to stake out his claim and plunge Runeterra into an era of beast speaks to as sense of him wanting to elevate his people, and a naivety to the danger of his ambitions.

[lady-phasma]

I need more of the Blood Wyrm forgetting he's a big boi