#c: graham

[ravellaarryns]

who: @rememberences when and where: the night following the attack upon king graham of house royce, following an emergency council meeting where the vale officially declares war with the free city of lys.

it was late. how late, was another matter entirely; though the moon cast the reflections of a silver, pale light through stained glass windows that reminded her of her own chambers; kings landing had proved to be a danger, and it came not from the dragons, but rather the snakes they had invited to sit beside them at their court. nocturnal she had become by nature, less like an owl, but more like some strange form of an eagle. adorned in her white nightgown, she remained by the window, staring down at the passers by with no real thought in mind - the hearth had long since extinguished, and the room she was stood in remained in dwindling light.

for she was considering how the first war of her reign would be recorded in the history books: all whispered of her strength. and this, this was the ultimate test.

almost on queue, there came the noise of another entering her chambers: there was only one person who did not need permission to enter her chambers, and that was the man she had chosen to take as her king. it was poignant that she did not refer to him as the king consort, not even within her own mind; for ravella saw her position not as a blessing, not as a way to change the system, but rather what happens when the system fails. remaining stood beside the windows with her back to him for a moment, she remained utterly still: briefly wondering whether this would be another night where they attempted to conceive a son.

she was wholly aware of the fact she needed a son, to wipe away the stain that was the abomination she had ripped from herself. her arms remained on either side of her body as he turned to look at him, remaining fixed on one spot. there was no real discussion to be had when it emerged that it were the lyseni who had organised such an attack, no debate to be had; only a command, and a declaration to make. the first war of their rule; she was no fool to pretend she was able to wield a blade. her dead gaze set upon him as he closed the door behind him.

the first war of her rule, accompanied by her first traitorous lord. one that had reportedly done so, as a result of loyalty toward a dead man. a man she had killed. a man her husband had also killed. she was worthy. she was greater than him, even in legacy, even in death which tended to glorify all. he remained a miserable failure. "he will feed the crows once he is thrown from the moon door." she had not a care for tristan hunter. and she would show it.

[void-botanist]

The Shifters List

@outpost51 wanted more shifters in the new year and who am I to say no? So here's a quick list of my shifter characters so far.

I've got

Allison, red wolf

Graham, red wolf

Melinda & Alan, Allison & Graham's parents, both coyotes

Corcra, black fox

Ian, Sierra's husband and Spinder's brother-in-law, common raccoon dog

Marla & Hazel, Sierra & Ian's adopted kids, timber wolf and gray fox

Heith, bat-eared fox

Tatya, gray wolf

Edit Feb 2, 2024:

Pali, Marcus's spouse, golden jackal

There's no in-world rationale for who turns into what. Instead I exercise my authorial privileges because this is still my "don't overthink it" setting. But I think for genetic lineages, it's more likely that your kids will have the same or a closely related canid form, hence Allison's family all having Canis forms. At some point I'll probably think of more lore surrounding this form of magic and I might tweak things a bit, but unless I find a really compelling reason to change it I'm going to stick to having them transform into fully canid forms (while mostly keeping their human-form brainpower).

I also think it's important to note that Sierra, known to be the most humorless person, cannot contain herself about Ian's raccoon dog form. She has long since decided it is the cutest thing she will ever see. This isn't why she married him but it's a bigger factor than she would like to admit.

Nicea taglist: @kahvilahuhut @kk7-rbs @outpost51 @writernopal @athenswrites

Shifters taglist: @outpost51 @kk7-rbs

[fcundaticnsofdecay]

@diviinc liked for a starter from here

"listen, i'm going on like two hours of sleep so you need to either start over or go way slower."

[downthecove]

@diviolence asked: MM 17 to whoever you feel fits

MEME: 𝚂𝙸𝚃𝚄𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝙰𝙻 𝙶𝙸𝙵 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙿𝚃𝚂 STATUS: accepting

JOGGING COMMANDO WASN'T NORMAL FOR MOST PEOPLE. Yet Dorian always felt the most free in the sea when he was naked, in his true siren form, so why shouldn't he try to get as close to that as possible on land? He only had on a pair of loose grey sweat shorts that left nothing to the imagination. Often times he had to adjust himself a bit, his shaft hard to maintain. Maybe this was a bad idea. He looked over to Graham who he had invited to join him on the run to see if the man was noticing anything. A couple of passerby park goers clearly did. "Follow me." Dorian suggested quickly before cutting in between some trees. "Secret trail."

[kiillmeromantically]

@kittywriites​ liked for a starter from this

based: linked in source 

“i know that when i asked that it was selfish,” he said before she could even speak. graham had been an idiot to ask her to wait since it was just not fair. he took a deep breath,” and i honestly didn’t know when i was going to come back here but i just-fuck.” he was always horrible when it came to dealing with his feelings. especially since his heart had been crushed when he had seen her with him. he glanced down at his hands before glancing back up towards her. after he forced himself to let out the breath that he barely realized he had been holding in,” i just need to know if you are happy with him,” he finally said,” did he, uh, does he make you feel like i used to?” he hated himself for even asking what he was,” does he touch you like i did?” 

[mlybrnte]

hannibal fumbled will so badly because of miscommunication. its miscommunication. will forgave hannibal for everything he did but we could have gotten past all that if hannibal just literally abandoned the metaphors and said 'i got the hots for you lets build a family together, will <3' its not that hard hannibal. but no, gay people always have to be extra about love confessions

[colliholly]

sometimes I think about how much body spray graham is probably drenched in (and also how flammable that would make him)

[corporatedespair]

cute little pixel cogs so small so delicate gone in the wind

[vamp1r1cjuggalo]

Part 2 of the redesigned manager redesigns!!!

Finally i am done thank cog

[flintmgr]

the managers dont have profile pictures on cogs ink, and i wanted to make renders of what i think they would look like

also yes ben isnt using his updated model i was LAZY! and did not want to get it

[ravellaarryns]

who: @rememberences​ where: the queen’s personal apartments, the castle of the eyrie when: following the wedding reception of graham royce and ravella arryn

There vows that had taken place within the Sept of the Eyrie before the eyes of the Seven had been finished, and finally the houses of Arryn and Royce were united in the way Lord Alfrid Arryn and Lord Malcom Royce had always intended for so many years - only,  the two noble and great men of the Vale had no way of knowing the children they had betrothed so many years ago had somehow found themselves and one another, only to ruin each other in the worst of ways time and time again. 

A part of her had grown a ghost to the vows she had taken that windy day, wrapped in Royce tartan as her hand was fasted with his own; binding in a way of old that reminded them of the longevity of these lands long before the Andals.

Something had been written that windswept, rainy afternoon where another ghost had played witness within that circulation of ancient stones, where their blood had joined as their hands had been fast - something that Ravella herself could not shake away or turn her back on, regardless of how much she cursed the Gods and knew them to be dead. Nothing, as though they never existed at all. They would not let her go, no doubt due to the amount of blood that remained upon her hands, the very blood of the late Falcon King as a resulted of her righteous insult to her very pride.

Truthfully, the Queen of the Vale had never intended to end up here; but weakness seemed to plague the sons of the House, whilst the strongest continued to be those of Bronze who led the kingdom and struck off the wrongs as and when, even if it meant to only insult their own character. The rain continued to hammer against the windowsill now as her ladies silently attended upon her, unpinning dark raven curls and applying scented oils to her wrists as she pulled a dark robe around her frame, icy, dead orbs remained fixed on the flickering hearth.

She heard him come in, though he was not attended by any other courtiers; this matter had been done before, this dance finished before, and the two of them knew it. There was nothing special and sacred about this night. That night had been years and years ago. "My Lord." She did not turn to face him as he remained sat at the mirror, and only saw his gaze through the reflection; and her own met with his.It was clear, just by his face, that he thought the very same thing.

She could hear the distant sounds of a baby crying in the very back of her mind, and it unnerved her, made her feel entirely on edge; was she supposed to feel some sense of pity for the bastard of her brother that she had tossed with him across the Narrow Sea? To name her a Princess of house Arryn was to say she were akin to herself, akin to the Queen of the North, when she was nothing but the product of a dirty night with the likes of a baker of Gulltown. No, she was sent to Braavos and would remain there, as a permanent guest and ward of House Arryn.

"Leave us." And there was a strange sort of unison in which all the serving girls suddenly bowed their hands, and the way they left these chambers; one by one they walked, letting the door close behind them.

How seamless was the duty that had been done, completed within a fortnight of ascending to the Mountain throne for those ancient and noble lords to know their Queen was one who intended on doing her duty - and it all it took, was dedication. The cloak slipped upon her shoulders as it always meant to, and she felt no sense of love for anything but the Mountains of the Moon. Love for a realm, as twisted as it was; why couldn't those who had come before her merely done the same? It was not sadness that plagued her gaze this night, only a silent acceptance of knowing it seemed there was something much greater at play here; that she was no God high above it all, but the closest thing to one within this realm.

There was no dancing around the fact the both of them would do their duty this night. They both knew entirely what relied upon it. “You kept your word.” 

[mimilllion]

insanity based ttcc doodles from the past few days

[classichorrorblog]

Friday the 13th Part VI: Jason Lives (1986)

[saageleaf]

manager warrior cats pt. 2

[tappioca]

Leshley Week 2023 Day 7: (Free)

paying homage to where it all began: the rescue mission that established their chemistry!