#servant o.c

[darabeatha]

/ a.rknights has such good character designs but I fear catching up to it would take ages!

[lucinda-g-artista]

Artie and Guinevere /Shrek Universe

I grew up watching and loving the Shrek franchise. From the movies to the specials, and of course the Puss in boots movie. Now growing up, Shrek the Third wasn’t entirely my favorite movie- BUT I will admit…I had a huge crush on Artie- and watching the movie now it grew on me and the third film became one of my favorites. And it made me realize I still have a big crush on Artie….

ANYWAYS- Guinevere was kind of a..Biatch in the film- Like gurl you missing out- and since the Shrek Universe has many versions of the same fairy tales ect, I made my own version of Guinevere who works as a servant in the kingdom of Far Far Away (Her design was inspired by Guinevere in the 2008 Merlin Series)

I wanted to draw the two of them having a moment when Arthur became king

I also have always wanted to design an o.c for Shrek but I lacked the art and writing skills. But now that I have improved I can share my ideas out!

Arthur and Guinevere first meeting in the Third Film

[kckt88]

Scorched Hearts IX

Summary:

'We loved with a love that was more than love - Edgar Allen Poe'

Valaena takes justice into her hands after she makes a discovery, and Aemond sees his sweet wife in a whole new light.

Warning(s): Angst, Drama, Language, Uncle/Niece Incest, Kissing, Confrontation, Violence, Murder/Death, Blood, Smut, Rough P in V,

AEMOND x O.C Niece

Word Count: 4150

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated, do not copy/post to other sights without my permission.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @darylandbethfanforever9 @killua2dot0 @msassenach @xcharlottemikaelsonx @moonnicole

Valaena had always been perceptive, and it hadn’t taken long for her to notice Mira’s not-so-subtle attempts to repeatedly gain Aemond’s attention.

The young dark haired maid fluttered around him like a moth drawn to a flame, her eyes lingering far too long, her touches grazing his arm under the guise of serving him, her flirtations barely concealed by faux innocence.

It was clear what Mira wanted. But no matter how hard she tried, Aemond remained utterly indifferent to her advances.

He only had an eye for Valaena, his love unwavering, and his disinterest seemed to frustrate Mira to no end.

Lirri, ever vigilant and fiercely loyal, had taken it upon herself to sabotage Mira’s seduction attempts.

Whether it was "accidentally" spilling wine on Mira’s dress or intercepting her before she could approach Aemond, Lirri had become a formidable force standing in the way of the maid’s ambitions.

Arro, Aemond’s loyal guard, appeared to be in on it as well, watching Mira with hawk-like intensity and shadowing Aemond more than usual.

Their quiet efforts to protect Valaena and Aemond’s marriage had not gone unnoticed by her, and she had found their devotion comforting.

But then one day, everything changed.

Valaena had been tending to the children in the gardens when Lirri, who had been standing nearby, suddenly swayed on her feet.

She pressed a trembling hand to her nose as blood began to trickle from it, her eyes wide with confusion before she collapsed onto the grass.

Panic surged through Valaena as she quickly rushed to her side, calling loudly for help.

The maesters had arrived swiftly, attending to Lirri and examining her condition.

Their conclusion had been grim—Lirri had ingested some form of poison, although they couldn't be sure what.

Aemond had been livid, his fury barely contained as he ordered the entire manse into lockdown.

No one was allowed to come or go and Arro had been reassigned to guard the children exclusively.

And much to Valaena's displeasure, Mira had taken over as her personal lady in Lirri's absence.

Valaena had grown incredibly fond of Lirri, not just as a servant but as a friend. She spent hours by her bedside, clutching Lirri's hand, praying to the gods for her survival.

The maesters had induced her into a deep sleep with milk of the poppy, claiming it was necessary for her body to purge the poison.

Each day that passed felt like a waiting game, as Lirri’s still form lay in the bed, a shadow of her former vibrant self.

Despite Aemond’s best efforts to root out the culprit, there had been no clear suspect. No one seemed to know how the poison had entered the manse, but Valaena did.

The answer had been there all along, glaringly obvious to her.

It was Mira.

The tension had been building for days as Valaena watched the sly maid carry out her duties with a false air of innocence.

The sight of her smiling, knowing what she had done, made Valaena’s blood boil.

It wasn’t until one night, after the children were put to bed and Arro had resumed his watch, that Valaena decided she could wait no longer.

Steeling herself, Valaena moved through the manse, her footsteps quiet as she approached Mira’s chambers.

She pushed the door open, her heart pounding in her chest. The room was empty, which gave her the opportunity she needed.

She began searching through Mira’s things, rifling through drawers and cupboards. At first, there was nothing unusual, just the typical belongings of a maid. But then, in the bottom drawer, Valaena found something that made her stomach churn.

One of Aemond's cotton shirts, a pair of his small clothes, and even a lock of his silver hair, all neatly hidden away.

Valaena's hands trembled as she stared at the items—proof of Mira’s twisted obsession with Aemond.

It was no longer just an attempt at seduction. This was something far more dangerous.

Slamming the drawer shut in a fit of rage, Valaena stormed out of the room.

She wondered where Mira was, but luckily she didn’t have to search far as she found the little harlot in her chambers, lounging naked on her bed, a smug smile on her face as though she was clearly expecting Aemond.

Valaena's voice was cold as steel. "Well, what do we have here?"

But when Mira saw Valaena standing there instead of the one she desired, her expression quickly shifted to one of shock and fear as she scrambled to cover herself, but it was too late.

Valaena shut the door behind her with a soft click, her movements slow and deliberate.

Her voice was low and menacing as she stepped closer to Mira, her eyes gleaming with cold fury. "Did you really think that you could just try and take what is mine?"

Mira trembled, her naked body shaking under Valaena’s withering gaze. "I—I didn’t mean to—" she stammered, scrambling for an excuse.

Valaena’s laughter was sharp, cruel. "So, you're in my bed naked because?"

Mira’s voice quivered, "Please, have mercy, my lady. I beg you—"

Valaena cut her off with a venomous sneer. "Mercy? Like the mercy you granted Lirri when you poisoned her?" Her words were like a blade cutting deep.

"I-I didn’t—" Mira started, but Valaena suddenly lunged forward, looming over her like a dark storm.

"Don’t fucking lie to me!" Valaena snarled, her voice dripping with anger. "Lirri was getting in the way of your pathetic attempts to seduce my husband, so of course, you needed her out of the way. Or-" Valaena’s eyes darkened further, her tone chilling. "-Was the poisoned wine meant for me? So that I may die, and you could swoop in, and offer my poor grieving husband a shoulder to cry on, hoping that he'd fall into your arms?"

"I-I d-don't-" stuttered Mira.

"Oh give it up, your innocent little girl act won't work on me" snarled Valaena.

Mira stood frozen as Valaena threw her dress at her, the red anc creame cotton fabric sliding against her trembling hands.

 "Get dressed, Now-" Valaena commanded, watching the girl with cold, calculating eyes.

Once Mira had hastily pulled the dress over her shoulders, she whispered, "Please, my lady, I just—"

Valaena cut her off again, her voice lethal. "-What makes you think that Aemond would even cast you a second glance?"

Mira swallowed hard, fear twisting her features. "Your husband is a very beautiful man," she whispered, her eyes pleading for understanding.

Valaena laughed again, this time louder. "Indeed he is," she agreed, her voice coldly amused. "But there is far more to him than just his looks." She took another step forward, her gaze never leaving Mira. "-Come on, tell me what else you like about my husband."

Mira hesitated, her fear growing more palpable with each passing second.

But Valaena’s voice boomed again, sharp and commanding, "Come on! I asked you a fucking question."

Mira flinched. Her voice was barely above a whisper as she stuttered, "He—he’s a good father, and he’s kind and-and strong."

Valaena’s lips curled into a dark smile as she advanced slowly, like a predator stalking its prey.

"Me and Aemond are two hearts, one life. We are forever." Her voice dripped with certainty, her steps closing the distance between them.

Mira tried to back away, fear consuming her. "Please," she whimpered, as her back hit the wall.

Valaena leaned in, her voice now a deadly whisper. "We bound our blood. We risked everything so that we could be together. Do you really think I would let some pathetic wanton whore destroy everything we have?"

Mira’s eyes suddenly darted to the door and then she desperately tried to push past Valaena, her bare feet stumbling over the floor.

But Valaena was faster. She seized a fistful of Mira’s dark hair, yanking her back with a brutal force.

Mira let out a strangled cry, struggling against Valaena’s iron grip.

Valaena shoved her to the floor, watching as she landed in a haphazard heap.

"I am his, and he is mine," Valaena hissed, her voice cold and unyielding. "From this day until the end of our days."

Mira, sobbing and desperate, tried to plead again. "P-Please, my lady—"

But Valaena was done listening. Her hand moved to her sleeve, where she withdrew a gleaming dagger.

"My husband gifted this to me when first arrived in Qarth-he said it for just in case-and oh how right he was" said Valaena.

Mira’s eyes widened in horror, and she whimpered, trying to crawl away.

But it was too late.

"He is mine," Valaena whispered, her voice hollow and dangerous.

And with that, she plunged the dagger into Mira’s chest.

Mira gasped, her hands scrabbling at her chest, her body jerking in pain.

But Valaena didn’t stop.

"He is mine!" Valaena screamed, each of her words punctuated by a vicious stab. "He is mine! He is mine! He is mine!"

The chamber echoed with the sickening sound of blade meeting flesh, Mira’s blood spilling onto the floor, soaking the stone beneath her.

Valaena’s vision was red, her anger consuming her.

Then, she heard the door creak open behind her. The room suddenly fell silent, the only sound the ragged breaths escaping from Valaena’s lips.

Slowly, she looked up.

Standing in the doorway, his eye wide with shock, was Aemond.

Valaena and Aemond stared at one another, the room heavy with the smell of blood and death.

Gods, what a sight she must have made—her dress soaked in Mira’s blood, her hands stained crimson, her face spattered with it.

She was a vision of fury and violence, yet in Aemond’s eye, there was no fear.

Only an intense, burning gaze.

He stepped slowly into the room, his boots quiet against the stone floor.

The door closed with a soft click, and he locked it without saying a single word.

He slowly removed his belt, the weapons clanging as he laid them on the desk, then he removed his leather jerkin, placing it on th eback of a chair.

Valaena wiped her nose with her bloodied sleeve, feeling the weight of the silence between them.

She stood up, her body trembling—not from fear or regret, but from the raw energy of what she’d done and the intense way Aemond was staring at her.

Aemond walked towards her, his steps deliberate and measured, his eye never leaving her.

His gaze was filled with something dark, something dangerous, but not directed at her.

It was as though he saw her—really saw her—and what he saw only drew him closer, it made his blood go hot, in a way he never expected.

When he reached her, he grabbed the fabric of her bloodied dress in his fist and shoved her hard against the wall, the dagger falling to the floor with a loud clatter.

The force of it knocked the breath from her lungs, but she didn't resist. She lowered her gaze, her chest heaving.

But Aemond wasn’t having that.

He placed a finger under her chin and lifted her gaze to meet his, the intensity in his eye blazing like fire.

There was no judgment in his face, no anger. His expression was unreadable but fierce, charged with a storm of emotion.

Slowly, his hand slid around to the back of her neck, his fingers gripping her firmly, and possessively.

And then, without warning, he pulled her to him, crushing his lips against hers in a ferocious, passionate kiss.

It was hungry and desperate, filled with everything they couldn’t say in words.

Valaena’s hands, still covered in blood, found their way into his hair, tugging hard as she kissed him back just as fiercely.

The world outside ceased to exist in that moment—all the fear, the blood, the chaos.

There was only them, bound together in fire and fury

Aemond’s grip tightened on Valaena, his breath ragged with intensity as he manically tore at her dress.

The silken fabric ripped under his hands, shredding apart and leaving her bare before him.

He took a step back, his eye roaming over her naked body with raw hunger, and without a word, he began quickly pulling off his own clothes.

His gaze never left her as each article of clothing hit the floor, exposing his lithe muscled body.

Valaena’s heart raced, her body humming with anticipation, but then her eyes flickered to the side—Mira, still alive, barely clinging to life on the floor.

Her chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, eyes half-lidded, blood pooling around her.

Aemond, now naked, caught the direction of Valaena’s gaze.

A dark, twisted smile played on his lips. “Let her witness what she could never have,” he said coldly, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver down her spine.

Without hesitation, he roughly grabbed Valaena by the waist and lifted her against the wall, her legs instinctively wrapping around him as he pressed his body against hers.

His hands gripped her hips tightly, fingers digging into her skin as if he were claiming her all over again.

Aemond’s lips found hers again, this time more demanding, more urgent, as he devoured her with each kiss.

His body covered hers as he moved to suck and lick the delicate skin of her neck, leaving red marks in his wake.

Valaena moved her head to the side and moaned loudly as she felt Aemond’s teeth digging into her skin.

Not having the patience to properly prepare her, Aemond spat into his hand reaching down to run it up and down the hard length of himself, eyeing Valaena with an animalistic hunger, a smirk on his lips as she rolled her hips towards him.

Valaena barely has a moment to think as Aemond guides himself to her entrance and sheathes his cock forcefully inside and stretching her brutally, causing her to cry out.

“FUCKING TAKE IT!” spits Aemond.

Valaena can’t think of anything but the intense pounding thrusts that greet her, causing her to wail and moan, causing the tears form in her eyes, before running down her cheeks.

Aemond sets a brutal pace, his hips crashing into hers, his fingers digging into her hips as he pushes and pulls her against him.

His cock reaching deep inside her, the sting of being stretched by him now giving way to a pleasurable ache.

“YES! YES! AEMOND!” screams Valaena as she claws at his back.

“FUCK!” shouts Aemond as he feels her cunny clenching around his cock.

“P-Please. Oh Please. Yes-yes” babbled Valaena ignoring the pain in her back as the force of Aemond’s thrusts kept slamming her into the wall.

“That’s it-that’s it-” encouraged Aemond his gaze rooted to the place where they were joined, transfixed by the sight of her cunt stretched around his cock.

“Oooh-please-please” muttered Valaena.

Aemond leaned forward and took one of her rosy nipples into his mouth, sucking on the stiffened peak before he bit her.

“Ooooh Aemond-“ whined Valaena as she writhed against him, he smirked as he released her nipple and moved across lavishing the other one with the same attention.

“P-Please-Please-” sobbed Valaena as she felt his hard cock sliding against her folds.

“Your cunt is dripping, it's so beautiful-” sighed Aemond, his thrusts slowing down as he pulled away further each time, until his cock entirely withdrew from her warm wet entrance.

“Tell me you want me-“ growled Aemond as he ran the head of his cock through her wet folds.

“I want you” exclaimed Valaena.

“Tell me you need me” whispered Aemond as he sheathed himself back inside her.

“I need you-“ muttered Valaena as one of Aemond’s hands slid up her body and wrapped around her throat.

Aemond smiled and then began to fuck her again in earnest, his fingers digging into the flesh of her throat, using her as leverage as he repeatedly plunged his cock into her cunny, thrilled to hear his wife’s moans of need echoing around their chambers.

His thrusts once again brutal and unrelenting.

“Come for me-” breathed Aemond.

Valaena screamed as her desperately needed peak exploded from her body, making every limb tremble as her body bucked around Aemond’s cock.

“That’s it baby, take it. Take all of me-good girl”.

“S-so good-Aemond-“ whimpered Valaena.

“I-I’m never leaving this sweet cunt-“ moaned Aemond.

Valaena slid her hands over his shoulders and coiled her fingers into his long silver hair as she moved her hips against his, his cock hitting the sweet spot inside her perfectly.

“A-Aemond” moaned Valaena as he moved his hand to her breasts and once again took one of her nipples into his mouth, his teeth gently grazing the rosy bud.

“Let go baby, I can feel you clenching around me again-” exclaimed Aemond, as he moved to the other breast.

“I-I c-can’t. It’s t-to m-much” whined Valaena.

“Yes. You can. Peak for me, I want to feel you-”

Valaena’s thighs began to burn, as she felt her second peak approach.

“AEMOND” screamed Valaena her vision going white as she came around his cock.

“I-I’m going to spill my seed inside you-exclaimed Aemond, the tension in his abdomen was about to burst.

“Yes-yes-Inside me-please-” whined Valaena.

 “FUUUCCCKKK” roared Aemond as he exploded. His cock throbbing and twitching as he finally spilled his seed inside her.

Aemond groaned as he withdrew his softened cock from Valaena and then gently lowered her to the floor, his singular eye focused on his seed slowly running down her leg, he shook his head as he felt his cock begin to stir.

He reached forward and cupped her face tenderly as he peppered soft kisses across her forehead, cheeks, and lips.

"Are you alright?" he asked in a low, gentle voice, his brows furrowing with concern.

Valaena, still catching her breath, smiled faintly. "I'm fine," she whispered, touching his hand.

Aemond's gaze flickered with worry. "Did I hurt you?" he asked, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant.

She chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Only a little-but I liked it."

Relief flooded Aemond’s features. He quickly pulled on his breeches and a cotton shirt, then crouched beside Mira’s lifeless body, his fingers checking for any sign of life.

"She's dead," he declared, standing up with a heavy sigh.

Valaena pulled on a robe, tightening it around her body as she glanced down at the body.

"Are you ashamed of me?"

"No. Never. Hows could you even ask me that?" replied Aemond.

"Just I-I killed someone a-and-"

"I've killed before, do you think any less of me?" asked Aemond.

"No. I do not" muttered Valaena softly, her fingers fiddling with a loose thread on her robe.

"Well there you go then. Besides I never knew how insanely hot you would look covered in blood-"

"Lets not make a habit of it" replied Valaena rolling her eyes.

"What can I say, my sweet wife has found her inner dragon-I quite like it"

"Oh I know how much you liked it" said Valaena grimacing as she felt the sticky sensation between her thighs.

"The occasion called for it"

"What are we going to do with her?" asked Valaena, her voice calm but laced with the weight of what had just happened.

Aemond reached into the wardrobe and he slowly slipped on a hooded cloak, his mind already calculating the next steps. "You need to bathe," he said, not missing a beat. "I'll deal with her."

"But what will we say if people ask where she is?" Valaena questioned, her mind racing ahead, already trying to foresee the questions and suspicions that might arise.

Aemond, now fully dressed and ready to act, looked at her thoughtfully. "We could say she was caught stealing and then we asked her to leave-"

Valaena frowned, thinking for a moment. Then her voice grew sharper, more resolute. "She was the one who poisoned Lirri. Or rather, the poison was meant for me-"

Aemond froze, his face darkening with fury as he processed her words.

“What did you just say?”

“Mira-she intended to poison me so she could have you to herself, but Lirri-”

Without hesitation, he strode forward and pulled Valaena into a tight embrace, burying his face in her hair.

"I could have lost you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

"It's because of Lirri that I’m still alive," Valaena murmured, running her fingers along the jagged scar on Aemond’s cheek.

Aemond cupped her face, staring deep into her eyes. "She will forever have my gratitude. I couldn’t bear to live without you."

Valaena smiled softly, her fingers brushing against his lips. "Thanks to Lirri, you don’t have to."

He kissed her quickly, a fierce and urgent gesture, before pulling up the hood of his cloak.

Bending down, he hoisted Mira’s body over his shoulder effortlessly.

Valaena went to the door and unlocked it, her eyes scanning the dimly lit hallway for any sign of movement.

Once the path was clear, she stepped aside and glanced at Aemond.

"It's clear"

"Remember to bathe," Aemond reminded her, his voice low and steady.

Valaena nodded as Aemond slipped out of the room with Mira’s body, his figure disappearing into the shadows.

She closed the door quietly behind him, her heart racing as she stood alone in the aftermath.

Turning back to the room, she noticed the bloodstain on the floor and the remnants of her torn dress.

With a steadying breath, she picked up the shredded fabric and used it to wipe away the blood.

Once the floor was moderately clean, she tossed the soiled dress into the fire, watching as the flames devoured the evidence of the night’s events.

After a moment, Valaena summoned one of the maids to help prepare her bath.

She kept herself hidden in the shadows, ensuring that her face and body that was still covered in blood remained unseen.

Once the maid had finished, Valaena excused her politely, waiting until she left before discarding her robe.

She stepped into the bath, the water warm and soothing against her skin.

As she washed away the blood from her body, the water soon turned a pale shade of pink.

Valaena leaned back, closing her eyes, her mind replaying the night’s events—the danger, the passion, the resolve.

She was safe, the children were safe and Aemond would handle the rest.

Aemond moved swiftly through the shadows, Mira’s lifeless body draped over his shoulder as he made his way to the clearing where Vhagar and Silverwing nested.

Luckily, it wasn't far from the manse; as both dragons preferred to stay close to their riders.

The air was still, the only sound being the faint rustling of the leaves on the tree’s as Aemond approached the looming forms of the great dragons.

Vhagar, stirred at the sight of him, her huge golden eyes observing him with curiosity as he neared.

But it was Silverwing, the dragon bound to Valaena, that Aemond intended for this task.

He dropped Mira’s body unceremoniously in front of the silvery dragon.

Silverwing sniffed the body, her massive nostrils flaring as she nudged it with her snout, unsure of its significance.

"I know I'm not your rider but-" Aemond said, his voice low and commanding. "Aderī, Silverwing, kisātās." (Quickly, eat.)

Silverwing hesitated, her sleek head tilting, showing little interest in what was being offered to her.

Aemond narrowed his eye, knowing that the dragon needed just a little more incentive.

"Ziry sylutan naejot ossēnagon aōha kipagīros," he said, his tone sharper now. (She tried to kill your rider.)

At this, Silverwing let out a low, rumbling roar, understanding dawning in her eyes.

Her fury was palpable, and without further hesitation, she opened her jaws, and a stream of scorching flame engulfed Mira’s body.

The fire crackled in the night, turning the corpse into a blackened heap.

Once the flames subsided, Silverwing devoured what remained, her sharp teeth crunching the bones as she ate.

Vhagar, watching nearby, huffed in clear annoyance, her massive form shifting restlessly.

Aemond smiled, walking over to his old dragon. He placed his hands on her massive head, feeling the familiar warmth beneath her scales.

"Naejot byka syt ao uēpa riña," he chuckled. (Too small for you, old girl.)

Vhagar, however, wasn’t appeased by his words, and she nudging him impatiently with her snout.

Aemond sighed, amused at her persistence. "Paktot māzigon va pār." (Alright, come on then.)

He started climbing the rope ladder attached to her saddle.

Once he was fastened in, he gave Vhagar the command to fly.

With a deep growl, she spread her colossal wings, launching into the sky with a powerful lurch.

Aemond could feel her joy as they soared together, the wind whipping through his silver hair.

Vhagar loved flying with him, her massive form cutting through the night sky with ease.

After a little while Aemond directed her toward the open sea, letting her instincts take over.

After a time, her keen eyes spotted something in the water, and she swooped down, claws outstretched.

With a quick, violent motion, she snagged her prey—.

They returned to land, and Vhagar dropped her kill before landing with a heavy ground shaking thud.

Aemond climbed down, inspecting the whale with a satisfied smirk. He glanced over just in time to see Silverwing creeping forward, trying to steal a bite from Vhagar’s prize.

Vhagar let out a low, rumbling growl, warning Silverwing away, and the smaller dragon backed off immediately.

Aemond couldn’t help but chuckle.

"Umbagon aōha pālegon," he called out to Silverwing. (Wait your turn.)

Satisfied that the dragons were content for now, Aemond dusted his hands off and began his walk back to the manse, the chill of the night air a stark contrast to the heat of dragon fire still lingering in the clearing behind him.

His task was done, and the world had one less threat to his family.

TBC

[lola-writes]

One-Eye & the Dreamer

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x O.C Aylana Velaryon

Word Count: 2,9k

Themes & Warnings: slow burn, friends to enemies, enemies to lovers, violence, blood, targcest, sexual themes, tension, drama, angst, fix-it of sorts, eventual smut, sexual inexperience, forbidden love, high valyrian, dance of dragons, POV first person

Summary: Aylana Velaryon foresees Aemond Targaryen's fate and assigns herself to alter it.

Written from Aemond and Aylana's POV.

Chapter 1 (Prologue)

Chapter 2 (Aemond)

Chapter 3 (Aylana)

Chapter 4 (Aylana)

- AYLANA –

I want a trouble-maker for a lover; blood spiller, blood drinker, a heart of flame, who quarrels with the sky and fights with fate, who burns like fire on the rushing sea.

The celebration was a suffocating spectacle. Meaningless chatter swirled around me like dust motes in a sunbeam, while servants drifted through the masses with food and drink, but the tension never abated. It sat there, uninterrupted. Like an echo before the words were even spoken. 

Parched, I plucked a goblet from a passerby tray and secluded myself in the shade, twisting uncomfortably in my gown.

In that same moment, I watched the Queen return to the godswood. The masses parted from her course like waves before a storm. She strolled right up to her first-born who was nigh-on asleep in his chair at this point. A curt exchange, a forceful tug on his arm, and the heir to the throne stumbled out of the gardens, escorted by two King’s Guard. 

“She looks unhappy, do you not think?” Jace had materialized beside me, plopping a grape into his mouth. 

“Who?” I stifled, feeling as if though the heat had thickened my mind to mush, because I swore there was two of him. 

“Helaena,” he said blatantly. 

My eyes found the poor girl at the edge of the garden, a flurry of nervous energy. Her hands danced in a silent, rapid rhythm, a desperate attempt to soothe the storm within.

“Well, I would be too if I were engaged to my brother. Or even worse, to Aegon,” I laughed, nudging his shoulder, to which Jace rolled his eyes. 

“It’s not funny,” he parried, “She looks positively miserable. We should do something.” 

I raised a brow and turned to my brother, smiling slyly in equal disbelief and mockery, “What are we to do, dear brother? Kidnap her? Take her with us to Dragonstone? Do be serious.” 

Jace shot me a look and shook his head in realization. 

“Besides,” I proceeded, “I don’t believe happiness would touch any of the Greens with a five-foot stick.”

Jace scoffed and fixed me with a disapproving glare. He really did have a heart of gold and I chastised myself for being so insensitive. There was no disputing that the Greens were not as we had left them. A deep sadness settled around them like a poisonous mist, though Helaena appeared to bear the brunt of its affliction.

Alicent grabbed hold of Aemond next, her fingers digging into his leather sleeves, her air vibrating with repressed worry. Aemond listened intently, a flicker of defiance warring with a deeper concern in his face, though he spoke to her softly, listening attentively to her wishes, but by the look of it, he was being castigated. He caught my gaze then, a spark of surprise before a steely resolve settled in his stare. My own breath hitched in my throat as our eyes locked for a heartbeat, a silent exchange that crackled with something unspoken. 

I looked away.

“Is everything well, sister?” Jace peered at me with eyes the color of a huntsman’s hound, rimmed with the most genteel glint. 

“Naturally,” I forced a smile, pulling on my skirts. There was no denying the heat. The thick, moist air covered the city like a woolen blanket. 

No breeze. No respite. Just the broiling sun.

“They’ve been gone a long time,” Luke appeared at his brother’s side with an ominous plea, wiping his upper lip. 

I looked at him quizzically.

“Mother and Daemon,” he clarified.

Though, they had been absent all but ten minutes, my youngest brother had grown timorous beneath the scrutiny of the Greens.

“I’m sure they’ll be along,” I reassured him, though my voice must have lacked conviction.

“We shall go find them,” said Jace with great solicitude.

With the jolted realization that I’d be left all alone, I grabbed Jacaerys by the arm. “Do not,” I blurted out, a bit too loudly than I had intended.

“We won’t be long, sister,” Jace consoled. 

“Our presence is of greater service than our absence.” My heart hammered strangely against my ribs as they turned to leave.

“Which is why you will remain here.” 

Before I could protest further, Jace and Luke melted into the throng, leaving me nonplussed and perturbed, a chill whispering across my skin in the heat.

A longing gnawed at me as I gazed across the glittering waters below the city, out of which our volcanic island sprung a mere thirty-minute flight away. I shamed myself for faltering so easily. A one-eyed eunuch with a grudge and a court full of Greens shouldn’t be enough to dismay me. 

Faint laughter followed by sounds of plunges and splashes could be heard down below. Women swam naked in the river, right beneath the castle. I grew acutely aware of the sweat leaking out of me in hot pulses, the heat clinging to me like a second skin, and the new dress that Mother had made me wear was not exactly helping my affliction. 

What I would give to be low born for a day.

A low voice, rich with an accent that hinted at sun-baked sands, startled me out of my musings, “With beauty like that you’ll leave cities in ruin.” His accent exposed what his complexion would otherwise suggest. But my train of thought was cut short when I met his heavy gaze.

Dark eyes, rimmed by thick black lashes, his skin olive and his hair gleamed like onyx in the summer sun. He donned a golden robe of samite, fitted tight around his waist by a jeweled belt, adorned by the sigil of Sunspear. A sharp rush of reservation ran down my spine. 

“A Dornishman in the capital is a rare sight,” I remarked, disregarding the honeyed words that coated his flattery. 

“Indeed.” Something amused and dangerous played in his eyes as he wafted a hand by his face. “We don’t like the smell,” he grinned, making the corners of his eyes crinkle. 

A wry smile tugged at my lips. I could hardly disagree with him about that. 

The stifling heat might have been unbearable, though the city’s stench was masked somewhat by the prince’s cologne – a curious mix of citrus and spice, like a desert oasis after a long journey.

“Prince Marius Martell,” he rumbled, his voice as rich and warm as Dornish sand. He pressed soft lips to my knuckles, dark eyes never leaving mine, “At your service.”

The son of Qoren Martell of Dorne - a traitor to the Crown, some say.

Their people were said to be descendants of the Rhoynar. 

Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken. 

And rightfully so, because they had never been conquered, and bent the knee to no king. Not even Aegon the Conqueror who united all of Westeros could bring Dorne to heel. Their independence had always sparked a thrill in me, though their reputation at court was as one might expect.

“I’ve been told that to trust a Martell is to be disappointed.”

He laughed. It was such a big, hearty, exuberant laugh, it came as a surprise. He tilted his head to the side. “Princess Aylana,” he chuckled, his timber disarming. “You Targaryens take yourselves far too seriously.”

My name on his lips caught me off guard.

“Your father joined forces with the Triarchy against Prince Daemon for control of the Stepstones some years ago, did he not?”

Prince Marius gazed out over the open water with a devilish smirk still plastered on his lips. “Dorne and the Crown has rarely seen eye to eye, it’s true”, he said. “But surely we have the right to our own waters. Do you not agree?” His mouth expressed its words in a stretching and sort of rolling manner, providing them with surprising weight, entrancing me like a siren’s call. “Besides,” he continued, and clicked his teeth together. “That was some years ago, was it not?” he smirked, echoing my words for a playful comeback. 

It was impossible not to be charmed by him, with his Dornish drawl and inquiring eyes. It felt like I knew everything about him, yet not a single thing at the same time. 

He spoke of his homeland with a passion that ignited a fire in my chest, reciting the histories, legends, and customs of his people, and I came to realize he was from another world entirely. A world painted in vibrant hues, vastly different from the courtly intrigues that choked King’s Landing. A world where bastards were not despised and daughters had as much of a claim as sons. 

It was riveting. 

A prickle of unease danced on my skin. My gaze flickered to Aemond as if I’d felt him watching me. His eye was burning me. His fingers trailing the hilt of his dagger like strings on a fiddle, playing the tune of its blade across my neck. My hand travelled instinctively to the blooming crimson. 

“You’ve been hurt.” Prince Marius’ words snapped me back to attention. I whirled away, the movement a touch too swift, a touch too desperate. 

“Dragons can be unpredictable creatures,” I offered tersely, an attempt of a smile on my lips. My mother’s words echoed in my head, a cruel reminder,

Know that you’re a terrible liar.

But it wasn’t a lie. Not entirely.

“That may be,” he drawled. “Though, unlikely to wield a blade.” He watched me with an inquisitive gaze, his perceptiveness sending a tremor through me.

“My sword is yours to command if you reveal the culprit.” Prince Marius drawl dipped a notch lower, duress coating his voice, as if he had not heard my explanation, or simply ignored it as a response of a silly girl.

For the briefest second, I genuinely believed he was a mind reader and I fought so hard not to let my eyes travel back to the source of my injury. Prince Marius’ sudden resolve tickled opposite emotions out of me, and I laughed. 

But the prince of Dorne did not jest. He stood there, unmoving, waiting on his command like a sellsword.

My laugh fell short. “That will not be necessary,” I assured him. Though, I had to admit that his sudden determination to root out my enemies without the slightest hesitation brought me satisfaction and comfort. 

Perhaps a Martell could be trusted, after all. 

I watched his mien soften to my reassurance. 

“How long do you plan to remain in King’s Landing?” I asked, attempting to sway the conversation in a different direction.

“Until the tourney, princess,” he replied. He was to join the tournament list? “Though everything after depends.” 

“On what?”

His gaze locked with mine for a beat too long as a secretive smile spread across his lips. “On you.” The words dripped from his lips like honeyed wine. 

My cheeks flushed and nerves played beneath my skin.

On me?

He bowed deeply and kissed my knuckles valedictory, before disappearing through the press of bodies.

The boldness of Prince Marius, it seemed, had thrown open the gates for every lord of a noble house to present themselves to me. Lannisters, with their gilded smiles and promises of influence. Tyrells, draped in silks, whispering of wealth. Baratheons, booming with hearty laughter and boasts of strength. Tullys, with an air of cautious calculation, and even a Greyjoy, his presence a salty reminder of the unforgiving sea. Taking their turn one after the other. It was overwhelming. Each echoing their house words in the stale air like hollow promises. Each offered a variation on the same theme: a plea for favor at the upcoming tourney, and requests to spare a dance at the wedding feast in two days’ time. The sheer volume of it all threatened to drown me.

“Cregan Stark of Winterfell.” A young lord, no older than myself, bowed deeply before me in black ringmail over layers of black wool and boiled leather, making him appear curiously feral amongst courtiers in delicate fabrics.

His forehead glistened with beads of sweat, and though his face remained stoic, a flicker of discomfort danced in his blue eyes.

“You’re far away from home, Lord Stark,” I said, offering him a gentle smile. “How are you faring in King’s Landing?”

A slow smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Implausibly hot, princess,” he rumbled, his northern accent wafting me like a welcomed breeze.

“On that we agree.”

He was beautiful in a stark kind of way. In the way snow glaze mountains, and the way ice reflect the first rays of dawn.

“Please accept this gift as an apology for the namedays I’ve missed, and as a token of my fealty to you, and to your family.” Ser Cregan’s hulking bannerman lumbered forward, the leather leash creaking in his grip as he unveiled a magnificent white wolfhound. “I’ve heard how much you adore the creatures.”

A gasp escaped my lips before I could contain it, as I observed the majestic beast at my feet.

“May she offer you comfort and protection,” he continued, adding weight to the word, and if it wasn’t for the bliss I was currently basking in, I would’ve grown coy. 

I could only imagine the state of myself from his view – a scarred face and a slashed neck. 

Must’ve been a sight.

“This is a most generous gift, my Lord,” I managed, my voice thick with a sudden rush of emotion. I dropped to my haunches and allowed the hound to sniff me. Her fur, the color of a winter blizzard, was matted and dusty from travel, a stark contrast to the pristine white of her glacier eyes. Her chest heaved with exertion, a giant pink tongue lolling out of her mouth. She was clearly parched. How long had she been out here?

“See to it she has water and a bath,” I commanded a nearby maidservant, and watched as the girl scurried into the castle with the panting hound. 

“I shall be watching your prowess at the tourney on the morrow, my Lord,” I declared with a smile. 

Lord Cregan dipped his head. “Thank you, princess, but I am not on the list. I will join merely as a spectator.”

“Very well,” I said. “I shall save you a dance at the feast.”

“I don’t dance, princess,” he rumbled, a hint of apology battling with his natural stoicism. “But if you find yourself in need of… meaningful conversation,” he offered, “I am at your service.” A ghost of a smile lingered on his lips for a moment before he bowed once more, and took his leave with his bannermen in heel, leaving me feeling oddly dissatisfied.

As the throng thinned and the servants descended upon the revelry’s remnants, I found myself beneath the white oak tree. Its bark was white as bone, its leaves dark red, like a thousand bloodstained hands. A face had been carved into its trunk, and its ancient limbs overgrown with smokeberry vines wrestled beneath the soil. Birds sang their melodies from hidden nests and brought a sereness to my overwhelmed mind, but the thumps of a cane against stone made my skin crawl.

“We have missed you, princess. I dare say, none has sparked the court alight quite like you these past years. Not even your mother when she was your age,” Lord Larys Strong drawled.

A tight smile played on my lips, a flimsy shield against the disdain bubbling within me. “You flatter me, my Lord.” The image of feet flashed before my eyes, and I had to do everything in my power not to gag.

“I must offer my condolences on the passing of Ser Harwin,” he said, his voice laced with venom, “You were so very close growing up. Even as a babe you were special to him. The gods are cruel.”

My jaw tightened. “He was your brother, Lord Larys. I believe it is I who should offer my condolences,” I said, avoiding his eyes.

Larys lifted a shoulder and stacked his hands atop the head of his cane, his fingers drumming a silent rhythm. “Grief, princess, is a tapestry woven with many threads. One person’s sorrow does not diminish the anguish of another.”

I met his gaze, a challenge flickering in my eyes. “Is it such grief, after all?” my voice was barely above a whisper, “You took his place as the new Lord of Harrenhal.” 

My statement hung heavy in the air. 

Larys looked at me as if I’d hit him over the head with my goblet. But I knew he was full of shit. 

“Sharp as a winter wind, as always, princess,” he said, almost in a state of admiration, as a grin tugged at his lips. 

The nausea I felt rising in my throat had nothing to do with the wine. Rolling my eyes, I gazed up into the crown of the heart tree, its face looking like it wailed in agony.

“They say the children of the forest carved the faces in the weirwoods during the dawn, centuries before the coming of the First Men across the Narrow Sea.”

Trying to dissociate from Lord Larys’ strenuous tale, I caught Aemond’s lingering gaze over my shoulder, and I couldn’t help but notice that he had not touched a scrap of food, nor drunk a drop of wine since our earlier encounter. 

A spark of triumph ignited in my chest – I had rattled him. 

But whether this unexpected advantage would prove to be a blessing or a curse remained to be seen.

More chapters

[msmpictures]

[☬ Ramshackle O.C ☬]

•{☬Basic Data☬}•

[ Name ]

Astrid Voldemort

Storm > Work's Pseudonym

[ Age | Birthday ]

23 - 27 | October 1st

[ Family ]

Robert Voldemort - Father

??? - Step Mother

[ Job ]

Hired murderer.

[ S.O ]

???

[ More detail of the wound ]

Second degree burn | Cuts = Enucleation (Eye removal).

•{☬ Likes - Dis. ☬}•

[ Likes ]

• To sleep [her only one 'escape']

• To draw [In her days of rest, she draws her father to remember him, even if she is not a very good artist] Although she doesn't show anyone her drawings.

• To smoke

• 💐 [She can describe them as the rainbow of her grey, so that relaxes her a bit]

• ☕ [She is addict at the coffe]

• To stare at the stars [ that makes her forget her shit of job for a while ]

• Children [Doesn't show it, but she really likes children.]

• Rural spaces [That relaxes her]

• 'Acid Candies' [I hope you understand what I mean] Although, she doesn't eat them often.

• Boxing [Is not really something that she likes, but she practices boxing often]

• Agriculture (frustrated dream)

[ Dislikes - Hates ]

• [H] HeR bOsS

• [D] To socialize [She can't actually do it, Astrid just talks with the people when it's about the business and when it's her next victim, so it's kinda awkward for her to get a conversation for more than 30 minutes]

• [H] Her own job [ She is forced to do it, she has no other choice. ]

• [D] Alcoholic drinks [ She says that tastes horrible ]

• [D] Her work partners

• [H] Did I say her Boss?

• [H] Her step mother [She is the reason why Astrid is here]

•{☬ Origins ☬}•

Warning: so long xd

( I don't wanna write a shit but this is how u could sorta understand x,d )

- Astrid Lived with her father in the Ramshackle Streets. Robert was a miner, so they were low class, despite that, they always had enough to survive without ever starving.

- She didn't care about her economic status, since she was working by selling lemonade (as a lil child) and saving her cash to buy a little house In the countryside. Besides, her father always loved her, there was nothing that someone could consider a problem between them.

- Although, Robert couldn't help but feel lonely, so he decided to look for a new lover. A woman who appeared in their life, when Astrid was about to 14.

- The woman was an alcoholic one, always spending the cash into whims and useless things, she was kinda aggressive alone and because of that never had a good relationship with Astrid, but Robert never knew about the circumstances, so he didn't do anything.

- Since the woman appeared, The small family began to have debts, so both Robert and Astrid had to work twice as hard, which did not prevent the debts from increasing drastically, in just two years. For this reason Robert decided to go with a 'friend' (who was a member of a criminal association), to request loans with the condition of paying later, but it never happened.

- This 'friend' He decided to collect everything Robert owed, and as a result of having empty pockets, he kidnapped Astrid (she was 16).

- At first they planned to use her as bait to get the money and then kill her, But after pleas from the minor, they decided to recruit her at a low level, as a kind of servant for anything basic, even burying corpses that they eliminated.

- All this in order to be the one to pay Robert's debts. But it would take a long period of time until now.

- As she grew older, the members began to promote Astrid's position, from making her infiltrate meetings to extract information to turning her into a hitman, having to sell this service to others, In order to recover the lost money.

- The rest, is History..

[⛈️] = Sometimes, she pretends to be mute, so she doesn't need to talk with anyone [That's until she finally she likes u]

•{☬Additional Data☬}•

[🌪️] = The grey hairs are sign of her stress x,d

[🌪️] = She could know everything about weapons and how to play them, but she doesn't know how to cook.

[⛈️] = I don't know what to add about her biological mother.. I'll say she divorced Robert and he won the custody of Astrid 👌.

[🌪️] = Astrid just knows Vinnie, and that because she tried to steal her and found a gun in her purse. (In that moment, Astrid was infiltrated, Vinnie too)

[⛈️] = They're not so close friends, but they help each other sometimes. Either to get information or to get beans.

[🌪️] = Once she finished paying the debts, she will go away from Ramshackle, and live her dreamed life in a house in a rural space.

[⛈️] = Astrid doesn't tell her affection with words. She does it with flowers. If she gives you a daisy, she considers you as her family. If she gives you a rose, she loves you <3.

[🌪️] = She is the kind of person who doesn't understand the jokes. She doesn't have a sense of humour. (She tries man, she tries 😞)

[⛈️] = In an attempt to kill A drunk scammer, this one stroke her with a vodka bottle in her face, and as she failed on the floor, he tried to let her blind, burning her face with a lighter.

[🌪️] = Robert doesn't know if Astrid is still alive, but he is still trying to report her missing, no matter what.

[⛈️] = I could tell she is depressed, and because of that she eats the acid candies. I thought, as Stone with Pebble, she could have an 'interior Demon', with a similar appearance to her 14-year-old self. Despite that, I can't find a name for her..

The whole pic

THREE DAYS DOING THIS SHIT I GIVE UP

[cosmicourple]

I can see the other deities just comforting Ody and telling him they can work things out and not end the universe on accident. Meanwhile in the pocket dimension after the remaining crew arrived to keep them safe from whatever retaliation or fight may happen, Eurylochus is very VERY confused seeing a bunch of men he long saw dead and Polites with the baby in a strange world where they’re tended to by puppets until one of them shows an orb displaying what’s happening outside and- IS THAT THEIR CAPTAIN WHY DOES HE LOOK NOTHING LIKE A MORTAL!?!?! WHY AND HOW IS HE BRINGING THE KING OF GODS DOWN LIKE IT’S NOTHING?!?!

This makes me feel a bit sad bhgbg :’)

#1: Fggtrsswww Fed Up Deities attempting to Revive Their Universe struggle to comfort the very Thing they sent to topple Another Universe’s Government lmaooooooo they are trying 😭 good lord i need to establish individual O.C Profiles or something 4 these Gods🫠

#2: uaaaaawahahaha— Eury’ n the rest of the crew getting a glimpse of what is happening IJHYTTTFFFFR i love that the Shadow Puppets / Eikon (ig??? still not sure about the word-) r like servants providing to them :D

NHHGGGFRFGTT ODY’ OVERPOWERING ZEUS IN HIS AWAKENED ELDRITCH GOD FORM LETZ GOOOO—

Ouohnhggg you’ve given me so many ideas from this tehehehe thank u <33

[zuko-always-lies]

The Values that the Fire Nation Adults in “Zuko Alone” Teach the Children

The Fire Nation adults in “Zuko Alone” deliberately and non-deliberately, through actions, words, and examples, extol a complex set of toxic and imperialist values to Zuko and Azula. Foremost in teaching imperialist values is Princess Ursa. In order to understand more about what precisely Zuko and Azula might have soaked in from their environment, I thought it would be useful to go through the episode scene by scene and note which values were being propagated in the setting where they grew up. Much more under the cut.

Exhibit 1

Zuko: Hey mom, want to see how Azula feeds turtle ducks? (He throws the rocks at one of the baby turtle ducks, which disappears beneath the surface of the pool.) Ursa: (shocked) Zuko! (cut to a frontal shot of Zuko, Ursa continues o.c.) Why would you do that? (Cut back to the surface of the pond. The baby turtle duck bobs back up to the surface unhurt; his shell protected him from the rock. The baby blinks and shakes his head as its mother swims into the frame to make sure the baby is okay. Once sure of this, she swerves and attacks Zuko loudly. She jumps out of the pond and bites Zuko's foot. The young Prince yells in pain. Ursa removes the angry turtle duck and drops her back into the pond. She swims away with one final squawk of protest, her babies in tow.) Zuko: Stupid turtle duck, why'd she do that? (Zuko hugs his knees and looks sullen. His mother sits next to him.) Ursa: Zuko, that's what moms are like. (putting her arms around her son) If you mess with their babies, (she makes a biting sound for effect) they'll bite you back. (She hugs Zuko and he laughs.

Values(Extoled by Ursa):

1. Mothers should protect their children.

2. You should be kind to animals.

Exhibit 2

Azula: Mom, can you make Zuko play with us? We need equal teams to play a game. Zuko: (emphatically) I am not cart wheeling. Azula: You won't have to. Cart wheeling's not a game, (under her breath) dumb dumb. Zuko: I don't care. I don't want to play with you. Azula: We are brother and sister. (her voice becoming sickly sweet) It's important for us to spend time together. Don't you think so, mom? Ursa: Yes darling, (to Zuko) I think it's a good idea to play with your sister. Go on now, (she fluffs Zuko's head a few times) just for a little while.

Values(Extoled by Ursa):

1. Brothers and sisters should get along with each other.

Exhibit 3

Iroh: (voice over) If the city is as magnificent as its wall, Ba Sing Se must be something to behold. (cut to a younger Iroh sitting at a desk, flanked by two guards, writing the letter) I hope you all may see it someday, if we don't burn it to the ground first. (He laughs at this, then cut back to a frontal shot of Ursa, the letter scroll spread open in the foreground, with Zuko and Azula on either side. They laugh with Iroh at this comment.) Ursa: (reading the letter) "Until then, enjoy these gifts. For Zuko, (cut to Zuko running over and picking up a dagger offered by a servant on some sort of tray) a pearl dagger from the general who surrendered when we broke through the outer wall. Note the inscription (Zuko unsheathes the dagger) and the superior craftsmanship." Zuko: (reading the inscription) "Never give up without a fight." (The shot pans right to show Azula standing in front of another servant. He offers her something on a tray.) Ursa: "And for Azula, a new friend. She wears the latest fashion for Earth Kingdom girls." (As Ursa speaks, Azula picks up a doll wearing Earth Kingdom green. The Princess makes a face of disgust.) Azula: If Uncle doesn't make it back from war, then dad would be next in line to be Fire Lord, wouldn't he? (In the background, Zuko runs around practicing with his new dagger.) Ursa: (disappointed) Azula, we don't speak that way. It would be awful if Uncle Iroh didn't return. And besides, Fire Lord Azulon is a picture of health. Zuko: How would you like it if cousin Lu Ten wanted dad to die? Azula: I still think our dad would make a much better Fire Lord than (looking at the doll with disdain) his royal tea loving kookiness.

Values:

1(Ursa+Iroh). Imperialism is a good thing(the whole gifts thing in particular is a huge exercise in that).

2 (Ursa+Iroh). The idea of burning to death large numbers of “inferiors”(Earth Kingdom civilians) is hilarious.

3 (Ursa). You should show the utmost respect to the Firelord, the line of succession, and your older relatives.

Exhibit 4

Ursa: Your father has requested an audience with Fire Lord Azulon. Best clothes, hurry up. Azula: (mocking) Fire Lord Azulon. Can't you just call him "Grandfather"? He's not exactly the powerful Fire Lord he used to be. Someone will probably end up talking his place soon. Ursa: (crossly) Young lady! Not, another, word. (Azula runs past) What is wrong with that child?

Values(Ursa):

1. You should show the utmost respect to the Firelord.

Exhibit 5

Ozai: And how was it Great Grandfather Sozin managed to win the battle of Han Tui? Zuko: Great Grandfather won, because... (struggling) Azula: Because even though his army was outnumbered, he cleverly calculated his advantages. The enemy was downwind and there was a drought. Their defenses burned to a crisp in minutes. Ozai: Correct my dear. Now, won't you show Grandfather the new moves you demonstrated to me? (Azula stands and performs a series of firebending moves. A shot of Ozai's lower face shows his stony countenance turn to a slight smile at his daughter's performance. Zuko looks on, an uncertain expression on his face.) Ozai: She's a true prodigy. Just like her Grandfather for whom she's named. (Azula sits back down next to Zuko.) Azula: (whispering to Zuko) You'll never catch up. (Stung, Zuko gets up and addresses the Fire Lord.) Zuko: I'd like to demonstrate what I've been learning. (Cut back to Ozai's face, which turns rapidly to a frown. Zuko tries to run through some of the same moves as Azula but with evidently less skill. After a few moments, he chokes on the routine and falls on his backside. He recovers and finishes the routine as his mother looks on in concern. Azula looks on her brother's failure with glee. Ursa rushes over to him.) Zuko: (dejected) I failed. Ursa: No, I loved watching you. That's who you are Zuko. (cut to Zuko looking up at his mother with wide eyes) Someone who keeps fighting even though it's hard.

Values(Ozai):

1. Knowledge of battle strategies and the Fire Nation’s past conquests is very important.

2. Firebending prowess is incredibly important.

Values(Ursa):

1. You should not give up and keep trying at something, even when you are bad at it.

2. The firstborn son is more valuable for trying and failing than the second-born daughter is for succeeding.

3. You should continue trying to meet the toxic expectations of the court/your father.

Exhibit 6:

Azulon: Say what it is you want. Ozai: Father, revoke Iroh's birthright. I am your humble servant, here to serve you and our nation. Use me. Azulon: (leaning forward and pointing a finger at Ozai, who now kneels before him) You dare suggest I betray Iroh? My first born? (the fire in the trenches rises up into the frame from below, mirroring the Fire Lord's anger) Directly after the demise of his only beloved son? I think Iroh has suffered enough. But you, your punishment has scarcely begun!

and

Azula: Fine, don't believe me, but I heard everything. Grandfather said dad's punishment should fit his crime. (imitating Azulon) "You must know the pain of losing a first born son, by sacrificing your own!"

Values(Ozai):

1. Duty to the Nation and to the Firelord is of the utmost importance.

Values(Azulon):

1. Firstborn sons are more important than other children.

2. Extraordinarily harsh punishments for transgressions(particularly for failing to respect the line of succession) are normal.

Exhibit 7

Ursa: Zuko, please, my love, listen to me. Everything I've done, (she hugs him) I've done to protect you. Remember this, Zuko. No matter how things may seem to change, never forget who you are.

Values(Ursa):

1. Mothers should protect their children.

2. Remain true to yourself.

Exhibit 8

Fire Sage: (voice over at first) Azulon, Fire Lord to our nation for 23 years. You were our fearless (cut to a shot tilting up showing the Fire Sage with Azulon's gold sarcophagus behind him) leader in the battle of Gar Sai. Our matchless conqueror of the Hu Sin provinces. You were father of Iroh. Father of Ozai. Husband of Ila, now passed. Grandfather of Lu Ten, now passed. Grandfather of Zuko and Azula.

Values:

1. Imperial conquest is a good thing.

Thus, by examining this episode scene by scene, we can gain an understanding of how the Fire siblings grew up in an environment where toxic and imperialist values were standard and propagated by every adult. This goes a long way to explaining their later behavior and decisions.

[helenazbmrskai]

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Longest Tag: 68 characters

#when i was young i played around my family well xd trying to do that

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Radio Sweethearts (m)

🎧Pairing – [Yoongi x Reader]

🎧Genre – [Brother’s Best Friend Au, Smut, Fluff, Angst, College Au, Slow Burn, Podcast Au]

🎧Summary – [Yoongi have always been your brother’s best friend. You grew up together it was natural that you’ve fallen for him. The question is – does he feels the same? Will he ever see you as more than just his friend’s little sister?]

🎧Warnings – [sibling fall out, age gap, smut: (grinding, oral (f+m), vaginal fingering, oral fixation, cunnilingus, good morning sex, cum play, cum eating, blowjob, handjob, protected sex, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, brief creampie kink mention)]

🎧Word Count – [17k+]

Author Note – This fic is from 2020! It took me a crazy amount of time to spell check and rewrite entire parts to be somewhat good. I hope you will enjoy this project I planned where I rewrite some old fic of mine.

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410 notes - Posted July 13, 2022

#4

Sweet Tooth. KSJ (m)

Pairing – Sugar Glider Hybrid! Seokjin x Reader

Genre – Hybrid AU, Smut, Fluff

Summary – [You have liked Seokjin for years and finally you decided to tell him how you feel. Your confession landed you in a sticky situation the best way possible.]

Warnings – adoption of an adult hybrid, mutual pining, fake dating briefly and not the main pair, jealous Jin, dom! Jin, healthy amount of possessiveness, smut, vaginal fingering, kissing, dirty talk, exhibitionism, unprotected sex, big dick! jin, cum eating, finger sucking, lots of cum, creampie kink

Word Count – (5.3k)

Author note. It���s been a while since I got this request from @jinscharms​ I hope you will enjoy this and it will come as a pleasant surprise to see this notification after a long day at school! You were so sweet and let me take my time with this. I hope you’re doing well!

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418 notes - Posted February 17, 2022

#3

Born This Way 2 (m)

Pairing – [Hybrid! Jimin and Jeongguk x Human! Reader (fem.)]

Genre – [Hybrid AU, Smut]

Summary – [It’s been almost four months now that you bought your hybrids from that bitch and had them tied to chairs. You had lots of fun. You’re happy that they seem to like being here with you. Or– Jimin and Jeongguk have been thriving under your care – the healthy glow is on both of their skins, taken care of both physically and mentally – and they’re very serious about always paying your kindness back tenfold.]

Warnings – [Character Development, Smut, (M x M, M x F) (!) threesome, oral (f x m), cunnilingus, sub!jiguk, soft dom!reader (very soft for her boys), guk has tattoos and lip piercing, shy!guk, lots of kisses, lots of tongues and spit used, hair pulling, cum swapping, fingering, handjob and blowjob (m x m), oral (m x m), praise (o.c. it’s for jimin), bunny!guk, cat!jimin (and he certainly gots the cream), clit rubbing, female masturbation, they watch each other a lot, begging, guided deep throating (m x m), throatpie and creampie(s), dirty talk, pet names (kitty, bunny, honey, baby etc.), cum play, cute and sexy time, unprotected sex (be safe!), double vaginal penetration, size kink, cock worship, cockriding, french kissing, belly bulge]

Word Count – [4k] – of filth!

Author note. We might meet again in part 3? Who knows.

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513 notes - Posted June 12, 2022

#2

My Prince Is Charming (m)

Pairing – Prince! Jungkook x Servant! Reader

Genre – Smut, Royalty AU, Forbidden Relationship AU, Angst

Summary – Prince Jungkook overhears the stable boys talking about your pussy game and he wants to see it for himself.

Warnings – power play/dynamic, demanding and entitled jk in the beginning but gets sweet at the end, rubbing over clothes, dirty talk, blowjob, handjob, cum eating, jk cums down oc’s throat twice, unprotected sex with pulling out (remember pulling out is not a good method u can still get pregnant!), cock riding, big dick!jk, praise kink, scent kink, female masturbation, vaginal fingering, finger sucking, clit rubbing, cunnilingus, oral (f and m), teasing, overstimulation, lovemaking, sweet talk, it gets soft at the end, nudity, bathing, dirty thoughts/fantasies (both of them), sexual tension, mutual pining, virgin!jk, mention of the word ’whore’ once but no degradation, loss of virginity, forbidden love, mention of death if they get caught, oc has the hots for her prince

Word Count – (6k+);

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737 notes - Posted June 2, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

hey

can u write CEO!JK giving ridiculous tasks to assistant!y/n and she has enough and punishes him for it?

Pairing - CEO! Jungkook x Assistant! Reader

Genre - CEO AU, Pinning, Smut, Secret Crush AU

Summary - Mr Jeon to make it up to you for giving you ridiculous tasks he lets you sit in his chair and eats you out on his knees. yes. that's the plot babies

Warnings - y/n yells at kook but they obvi make up later, smut, dom!reader, sub!jungkook, dirty talk, teasing, licking over panties, oral (f), vaginal fingering, mention of masturbation (m), you cum around kookie's face, he also uses his nose to rub your clit, very slight degradation (one sentence only, you call him dumb but that's all), jk likes the taste of your pussy very much

Word Count - (2,1k)

Author note. Hope you like it!

You like to think that you're a very patient person. It's a trait that you got from your mother. It takes a lot for the people around you to rile you up so you're wondering how Jeon Jungkook could do that within five seconds. It must be a new record.  

He's your boss so try to refrain from glaring or rolling your eyes at him even when he tells you the most ridiculous task to carry out. You should give him a tight lipped smile and be on your merry way to do what the youngest CEO of the company wishes. But! Enough is enough. It was a shitty day, to begin with. First, you woke up late last night your washing machine broke down so you had no clothes to wear to the office your only option was your old pencil skirt that's way too short for you now to wear and some ugly yellow blouse. Like you said, not your day. 

Jungkook checked out your ass when you bent to pick up his pen. The pen which you're sure was not just accidentally dropped.

Getting him his fourth coffee of the day was however the last straw, one more thing and you're bound to blow up. 

"Can you get me the-"

"No, get it yourself!" You almost growl at him when he dares to bark another order for you. Yes, you're his assistant but you're not his personal maid that he can just order around. He's way past the bounds of professionalism so why should you care? Especially when you're so ready to put this bratty CEO in his place. 

"I'm not your coffee girl or your maid. Only call me if it's of some important matter otherwise I'll be doing my paperwork that I couldn't finish because of your ridiculous orders! I'm not paid to babysit a full grown manchild." 

Ok, maybe that was a little too harsh you swear you saw tears gathering behind his eyes. Slamming the door behind you was unintentional too. He did take my words seriously though since you haven't seen even a single hair of his after your outburst. 

You hope that you didn't make him cry. If he did you would feel too guilty for yelling at him. He's also the CEO if he cries after his assistant yelled at him this company is in big trouble.

You've been dreading this hour all day after that little outburst in his office but you have to clock out and maybe even wish him good night since you're feeling pretty guilty. 

You hear his soft 'come in' after you knock. His eyes go back to his paperwork when he sees it's you. He's looking pretty meek for a CEO. You're both tiptoeing around each other. You ask him if he needs you to look over something else and he tells you in a soft voice that he can take care of the rest. 

It's so awkward you want to crawl your eyes out. Fuck. You really owe him an apology.

"I'm sorry Mr Jeon I didn't mean to yell at you. I just..I was having a bad day but it's not an excuse. What I want to say is that I'm sorry and I understand if you want to fire me I'm-"

"What? Fire you? No! That's not what I want at all!" Jungkook looks at you like a deer caught in headlights. You have to admit that he's kinda cute. His tie is loosened around his neck and his hair is messy like he has carded his fingers through it to calm himself down. 

"I'm the one who is sorry Miss L/N. I know that you're not my maid and I'm sorry for being so unprofessional. I would like to keep working with you if you...if you would allow me."

You smile at his genuine apology he's usually a sweetheart a little childlike sometimes but he takes his job very seriously and he always asks about your day, your weekend he really pays attention to you and listens when you speak. 

"Apology accepted Mr Jeon." Jungkook's grin widens matching your own as the air clears around you. There's still something in your mind that you can't get over the thought of. 

"Why did you make me do all that bullshit for you? You're normally not like that. You do your job very diligently it's not like you to ask me to do coffee rounds." His ears visibly turn a hundred shades of pink. The way he avoids making eye contact with you means that he's shy for some reason. 

"I-" He stops as soon as he starts but you wait for him patiently to get his thoughts together. "I didn't know how else to get your attention. I'm so sorry I know it's childish of me. Why would you ever want to date a manchild? I'm there are more suitable men out there that-"

"Stop." You raise your hands up to stop him from rumbling further. He said what you think he said?

"Did you try to ask me out on a date all day? Wait a minute. If I get this correctly did you annoy the shit out of me so you could have the opportunity to see me? Correct?"

You groan when he nods his head so innocently. Manchild for sure. You take the time to really look at him though. He's tall handsome and powerful. That's what his business partners see or the people when he's on the top pages of the Forbes. 

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817 notes - Posted May 21, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[a-m-archived]

One idea I've had way before theo became a fandom-less o.c from her fate stay night days was that she had a servant verse.

said servant was a counter garden that delt with monsters like the beats of humanity due to her connection to them from her grand order days and how said servant was a small fragment of theo who went by Damocles. She was my attempt at theo going down the shirou route and being a "hero".

Her whole thing was that she was the guardian that delt with the shit that could cause lost belts and singularity's due to how she had so much confecting magic imbued with her body while being a singularity herself.

what if i brought this bitch back and gave her own verse, story and tags ?

[dawna-the-daring]

Dawna the Daring

Information

Name: Dawna Annabelle Walthomew Nobel

Tilte: Dawna the Daring

Rank: High Noble

Species: Shapeshifter/Faye Mage

Nicknames: Dawn, D, StarLight, Favorite, Silver Knight, Morning Light, Moonchild/Moonbeam, Hope

Aliases: Diana, Dee, Delilah, Debra, Dot, Donnie, Deeadra. Depending on the time period or mission depends on the alias used. All names start with D to acknowledge the first name she was ever given

Multiple possible ships: Hisirdoux Casperan, Bular the Butcher, James the Changeling (o.c), Delilah the Deadly (o.c), Kelpy the Kindred (o.c), Noble the Nifty (o.c), Steve Palchuck, Claire Nuñez, and Jim Lake Jr.

[Can also be shipped with one of your o.c's if discussed and agreed with]

Stats

Intelligence: Very High

Fighting Skills: High

Magic Level: High

Strength: Above Average

Speed: High

Durability: Above Average

Profile

Age: 916 years

Gender: Female (Fluctuates)

Sexuality: Pansexual genderfluid

Weight: 210 lbs

Heigth: 5'8"

Skin Color: White

Ethnity: Camelot (European)

Hair color: Hazelnut Brown (Can change)

Eye color: Green (Can change)

Background

Weapons training: Dawn typically uses her magic in a fight but in cases where magic isn't practical she has extensive battle training from the Order, the Gum Gums, and the Trollhunters/Gunmars Resistance. She can use just about any weapon but her magic split blades are her favorite and what she's most comfortable with. One is named after herself and the other her sister (Dawn and Dusk) as they are twin blades that are split.

Dawn watched the Round Table train and learned how to weild a sword that way. She is also proficient in knife/dagger throwing. Can weild an axe and throw a spear with great aim. She can also use a bow and arrow though she doesn't like them as much. Anything around her can be technically be used as a weapon but that doesn't mean it's an effective one.

Abilities

- Dawn is a powerful mage who learned magic during Camelots golden age. Merlins books and teachings helped her but sneaking out from the castle and exploring the woods around Camelots walls allowed her to truly learn magic for herself and what it means too her as a mage. She is most powerful with elemental spells as she learned from the woods and not a proper teacher. She has trouble with things like teleportation, telekinesis, and transmutation spells/hexes unless the spell she uses is connected to elemental magic.

- Her elemental magic attracts animals. She is good at calming stressed/angry animals as they can sense her magic and trust her. She can not speak directly to animals but she has an understanding of what their saying/feeling when they talk to her. If she listens closey enough plants also emit feelings and tell stories.

- Knows many different languages as after Camelots fall she took the time to explore the world. Has a slight accent but does a good job in sounding like a local. Strickler also taught her several codes like morse and tap that they use to have conversations during boring meetings.

- She is very knowledgeable on subjects like math, science, history, psychology, philosophy, biology, art history, anthropology, sociology, and many other subjects. She loves learning and often reads for hours at a time in her freetime. She absorbs knowledge like a sponge and one of her favorite past times is to listen to someone tell stories of their culture/past. Listening to others inspires her own creativity. She could sit and listen to Nomura, Strickler, and Otto's stories all day.

- Very empathetic and kind she just wants everyone to win. Whether she's a GumGum, an Order Spy, a freelance agent, or part of the Trollhunters she knows everyone and has seen their better side. She wants to believe everyone can be redeamed. Dawn wants to bring peace and when peace isn't an option she's hesitant to kill and perfers to injure or incapacitate instead. By nature she is a loving person and this has been used against her but she refuses to let herself see kindess as a weakness even if it has hurt her.

- Dawn is very adaptable when it comes to her environment or status. It's why when she's taken into the Order she rises quickly in the Changeling ranks and becomes a spy. Throughout her long life she has lived as a princess, a noble, a hand maiden, a pauper, and for a time a servant. Going through these various statuses she has learned a lot about herself and the world. She tries to treat everyone with respect and decency depsite status.

- During the GumGum war she became an amazing strategist and spy. Her skills to shift into any form allow her easy infiltration into an enimies camp. She uses her spy skills to watch how someone fights before devising a plan to counter their style and bring them down. She's best at making her enimies fall by finding their weaknesses and using it against them.

- Borne before electronics were around, Dawn often turned to the arts for entertainment. Hundreds of years of practice makes her a talented artist and story teller/song writer. She loves drawing and writing and has made hundreds of journals over the centuries. She has met great artists who have changed history over her life. Some being William Shakespeare, Leonardo Di Vinci, Michelangelo, Donetello, Raphael, Vincent Van Gogh, Charles Dickens, Virgina Wolfe, Pablo Picasso, Jackson Pollock, and Frida.

Weaknesses

- Dawn usually thinks things out and takes a calculated graceful approach to her fighting but when it comes to her close friends or family she can be very impulsive. She sometimes rushes into dangerous situations head first. She's also very stubborn and often gets in trouble for her sharp tongue.

- She is very protective of her friends and family. Dawn will do anything to keep them safe and has struggled with a savior complex ever since the fall of Camelot. She deals with severe self worth problems from unaddressed feelings and this causes her to think everyone is above her and their life is worth more than hers. Dawn has gotten hurt many times because she fears loosing those closest to her.

- Dawn has severe memory probelms from trauma and magical accidents/incidents. This leaves her vunerable to manipulation and can make her gullible at times. She is not naive and is often able to figure out who is her true ally and who is not but it can be hard to realise what's happening if she feels she's surrounded by friends/family. The Order especially her designated guardian or mentor Strickler have made it hard for her know what's right and what's wrong.

- Since she has been hurt and manipulated most of her life Dawna struggles with sharing things. Secrets are a common occurence and this can cause tension in a group setting. She keeps much of her past hidden and feels guilty about the secrets she hides but feels her friends/family would abandon her if they knew how she really felt and what she's been through.

- When she's hurt she often ignores it and lets the problem get worse because she doesn't want to address it. Her friends often have to drag her to a healer for treatment. This causes a lot of problems. She struggles with opening up so if she admits she's hurt or lets you bandage/heal her it means she trusts you far more than she'll admit.

- As a shapeshifter Dawn can shapeshift into anyone. After joining the Order her powers are put to use for infiltration/spying. Wanting to impress her higher ups Dawn often took her assignments too seriously and forgets who she is. She has identity problems and this can cause her great distress. However she has found ways to cope with this and Otto helped her master her powers so she'd control them and they wouldn't control her.

- After the Fall of Camelot, growing up in the Order Dawn has suffered many punishments for messing up an assignment/job. Strickler and Otto shielded her from the worst of it and sometimes Nomura would take the blame for Dawn but she has a lot of unresolved trauma that is buried deep within her. She will always feel indebted to Strickler and the other changelings but she also knows the Order is not a good place for her. The only good thing that came from all the punishments she's endured is she now has a high pain tolerance and she knows how the Order works.

- Dawn's maturity often fluctuates. She goes from being a young teen to an older adult yet she's always in the body of someone inbetween. Dawn could change her shape but mentally she's still that teenager who watched Camelot fall and wasn't able to save her family before they destroyed eachother.

[orthodoxydaily]

Icon, Saints&Reading: Tue.,Nov.24, 2020

Commemorated on November 11_ Julian calendar

The Holy Great Martyr Menas (304)

     The Holy GreatMartyr Menas, an Egyptian by birth, was a soldier and served in the city Kotuan under the centurion Firmilian during the reign of the emperors Diocletian and Maximian (284-305). When the co-emperors began the then fiercest persecution against Christians in history, the saint lost all desire to serve these persecutors and, having left the service, he withdrew to a mountain, where he asceticised in fasting and prayer. Once during the time of a pagan feastday he happened to arrive in the city, in which earlier he had served. At the climax of the festal games, which all the city had come out to see, rang out the accusing voice of the saint of God, preaching faith in Christ, the Saviour of the world.

At trial before the governor Pyrrhos the saint bravely confessed his faith and said, that he had come hither, in order to denounce all of impiety. Saint Menas spurned he suggestion to offer sacrifice to the pagan gods, and he was put to cruel tortures, after which he as beheaded. This occurred in the year 304. The body of the holy martyr as ordered to be burnt. Christians by night gathered up from the burnt-out fire the undestroyed remains of the martyr, which later were installed in a church in his name, built after the cessation of the persecution at the place of the suffering and death of the GreatMartyr Menas.

© 1996-2001 by translator Fr. S. Janos.

St. Martin the Merciful, bishop of Tours (397)

St patron of France

This holy and beloved Western Saint, the patron of France, was born in Pannonia (modern-day Hungary) in 316, to a pagan military family stationed there. Soon the family returned home to Italy, where Martin grew up. He began to go to church at the age of ten, and became a catechumen. Though he desired to become a monk, he first entered the army in obedience to his parents.   One day, when he was stationed in Amiens in Gaul, he met a poor man shivering for lack of clothing. He had already given all his money as alms, so he drew his sword, cut his soldier's cloak in half, and gave half of it to the poor man. That night Christ appeared to him, clothed in the half-cloak he had given away, and said to His angels, "Martin, though still a catechumen, has clothed me in this garment." Martin was baptised soon afterward. Though he still desired to become a monk, he did not obtain his discharge from the army until many years later, in 356.   He soon became a disciple of St Hilary of Poitiers (commemorated January 13), the "Athanasius of the West." After traveling in Pannonia and Italy (where he converted his mother to faith in Christ), he returned to Gaul, where the Arian heretics were gaining much ground. Not long afterward became Bishop of Tours, where he shone as a shepherd of the Church: bringing pagans to the faith, healing the sick, establishing monastic life throughout Gaul, and battling the Arian heresy so widespread throughout the West. Finding the episcopal residence too grand, he lived in a rude, isolated wooden hut, even while fulfilling all the duties of a Bishop of the Church.   His severity against heresy was always accompanied by love and kindness toward all: he once traveled to plead with the Emperor Maximus to preserve the lives of some Priscillianist heretics whom the Emperor meant to execute.   As the holy Bishop lay dying in 397, the devil appeared to tempt him one last time. The Saint said, "You will find nothing in me that belongs to you. Abraham's bosom is about to receive me." With these words he gave up his soul to God.   He is the first confessor who was not a martyr to be named a Saint in the West. His biographer, Sulpitius Severus, wrote of him: "Martin never let an hour or a moment go by without giving himself to prayer or to reading and, even as he read or was otherwise occupied, he never ceased from prayer to God. He was never seen out of temper or disturbed, distressed or laughing. Always one and the same, his face invariably shining with heavenly joy, he seemed to have surpassed human nature. In his mouth was nothing but the Name of Christ and in his soul nothing but love, peace and mercy."

Icon: Iveron from Montreal

Today we commemorate one of the copies of the Iveron Mother of God Icon, called the Montreal Iveron Icon, a miraculously myrrh-streaming icon from which abundant grace poured forth to the Russian diaspora and many other Orthodox Christians. As God’s Providence and the Mother of God would have it, the man who was found worthy to receive this icon from Mount Athos and become its custodian was in fact a convert to Orthodoxy from Catholicsim—José Muñoz from Chile, now also known as “Brother José.” Archpriest Victor Potapov spoke with the icon’s custodian on one of his visits to Washington.

The Iveron Icon, which at present is preserved in a monastery on Mount Athos, was according to tradition painted by the Apostle and Evangelist Luke. In November 1982, a copy of the Iveron Icon of the Mother God began to stream myrrh in Canada. In 1983, the Icon was in Washington for the first time, and I then asked its guardian, the Spaniard José Muñoz, how he had received the Holy Object, and when it had begun to stream myrrh. Here are his own words, which were recorded during our conversation with him:

“Once during our pilgrimage on Athos, after several hours of walking, we got lost. It began to get dark. We needed quickly to find shelter for the night. Going along a path, we stumbled upon a small, poor skete. There the fourteen Greek monks of the skete were engaged in iconography. They received us very cordially. Having rested a little, we began to examine the icons of their work. One of my fellow travellers, who spoke Greek, got into a conversation with the monks and told them who we were and where we were from. I, though, taking advantage of the moment, began more attentively to examine everything round about. Suddenly my gaze stopped at an icon of marvelous artistry with dimensions of approximately fifteen by twenty inches. I asked a monk if he could not sell it to me. He refused, having explained that this image was the first to be painted in that skete and therefore could not be sold. I could not tear my eyes from that wondrous icon. We stayed the whole night in the skete and in the morning stood through the Liturgy. During the singing of “It is truly meet”, I begged the Queen of Heaven on my knees to let the Holy Image go with me... Bidding farewell in the morning, all the monks accompanied us, but the hegoumen [abbot.—O.C.] was not among them. And then at the last minute before our departure from the monastery we saw him: he quickly descended the staircase with the wrapped-up icon in his hands. He came up to me and said, “Take it. I am gifting it to you. It must be with you.” I offered to pay for the icon, knowing that the monks were needy; but the hegoumen said severely, “One must not take money for such a holy object!” I crossed myself, kissed the image and made a vow to myself that that image would never become the source of my enrichment..more to read

Luke 12:42-48

42And the Lord said, "Who then is that faithful and wise steward, whom his master will make ruler over his household, to give them their portion of food in due season?43 Blessed is that servant whom his master will find so doing when he comes.44 Truly, I say to you that he will make him ruler over all that he has.45 But if that servant says in his heart, 'My master is delaying his coming,' and begins to beat the male and female servants, and to eat and drink and be drunk,46t he master of that servant will come on a day when he is not looking for him, and at an hour when he is not aware, and will cut him in two and appoint him his portion with the unbelievers.47 And that servant who knew his master's will, and did not prepare himself or do according to his will, shall be beaten with many stripes.48 But he who did not know, yet committed things deserving of stripes, shall be beaten with few. For everyone to whom much is given, from him much will be required; and to whom much has been committed, of him they will ask the more.

Thessalonians 1:10-2:2

10when He comes, in that Day, to be glorified in His saints and to be admired among all those who believe, because our testimony among you was believed.11 Therefore we also pray always for you that our God would count you worthy of this calling, and fulfill all the good pleasure of His goodness and the work of faith with power,12 that the name of our Lord Jesus Christ may be glorified in you, and you in Him, according to the grace of our God and the Lord Jesus Christ.

1Now, brethren, concerning the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ and our gathering together to Him, we ask you, not to be soon shaken in mind or troubled, either by spirit or by word or by letter, as if from us, as though the day of Christ had come.

[ultravioletproxy]

[Wekesa] (O.C. Ref.)

I wanted to start getting a bit better at designing/ flushing out actually interesting anthro character, and so with the help of flannelRaptors / he gave me the idea to work with a Shoebill as bird anthros are highly underrated. That, and there are so many wonderful bird species/ variations to work with. I'm pretty pleased with this fellow, and satisfied that he looks very much african.

►Name: Wekesa

►Age: 47 Human Years

►Height: 6'7"

►Basic Description: This fellow is an aging king of his tribe. Been through many battles for his land an his people. He was once great, but now that all threats have been vanquished. He's started to settle into his age. Eating, relaxing, and sleeping away his aches and pain due to the many battle scars hidden beneath his feathers. He's rather mellow for the most part, but can have a short fuse if his joints are particularly aching that day. He enjoys a hot soak with plenty of steam with mineral massages to follow up. He also highly enjoys a good feast, his species is known to highly enjoy eating in general due to how large they get (loves getting fed. He takes advantage of his royal status for sure. However he prefers to be minimally dress to hating how his feathers would get out of order due to clothing snagging on them. He likes to be quite neat and tidy and constantly preens/ baths/ cleans himself/ by his servants. However, he is NO means lazy or a bad king. he mostly gets overtaken by his lasting injuries. To sum it up he is an aging chronically in pain king he serves his people justly but at the same times does like to take advantage of his high status~

►●Terms of Service●◄

Artwork & Character© to RoneOmbre

[i-am-made-of-memoriies]

Okay, so I’m going to shamelessly post a fic that I wrote for my O.C Amathel. She is not a self-insert ( @spideypan would never forgive me for that), but a completely independent character who is incredibly different from me. This will probably be a two shot (maybe more?), but you never know!

The characters and themes of this story will be a mix of the Hobbit and Lord of the Rings movies and the books, because though I’m not really a fan of the Hobbit movie, some characters have potential!

Summary of the first chapter: Amathel of the Woodland Realm has been sent on a scouting mission with a young and promising silvan elf, Tauriel. Though the scouting mission is Amathel’s priority, she can’t help speaking at length with Tauriel and sharing the trials and tribulations that come with being part of the Mirkwood royal family. 

Amathel closed her eyes briefly, imagining the targets around her, the way her bowstring cut into her fingers, and the weight of the bow in her hand. Breathing in the sweet air of the forest, she opened her eyes and loosed arrow after arrow. Much to her pleasure, each arrow met their mark, impaled deep into the target.

“Sister,” A familiar voice called from behind Amathel, “Father requests your presence.”

She turned to face the voice, meeting the gaze of Legolas, her brother. “Thank you for the message. You may use the field now, if you’d like. I just need to pick up my arrows first.”

“Thank you, but I think I will go for a ride through the forests,” Legolas mused, “I am in need of a quick trip.”

“So be it! I will see you at dinner?”

“Of course.”

Amathel reached the throne room, still clad in her training gear, bow in hand. “You called.”

“Indeed, I did.” Thranduil sat askew on his throne as he often would, nursing a glass of wine in his right hand.

“Is there a task you would like me to perform?” Amathel did not dare make eye contact with Thranduil; from a young age, she had been afraid of her father’s cold aura and had subsequently grown distant from him. After the death of her mother, the distance only grew until she considered herself more of one of Thranduil’s guards than an offspring.

“There is a Silvan elf I would like for you to scout with. She has rising potential and I believe you could help her grow as a hunter.”

“I will gladly take this assignment. What is her name?”

“Tauriel.” Thranduil took a long sip of wine, “You are to meet her in half-and-hour in front of the throne room.”

Amathel nodded in acknowledgment and lifted her bow from the ground. In the time between her meeting with Tauriel, she opted to retire briefly to her room and read. To pass time, Amathel enjoyed the grace of elven poetry. Though she felt duty bound to protecting her people and home, she secretly hoped that she could settle down one day and become a poet. After she was done fighting and killing, she could only hope for a simple life, full of art and peace.

The minutes flew by and before she knew it, the bells of the hour had rung. Grabbing her cloak and bow, Amathel fastened her quiver across her chest and jogged through the meandering hallways of the palace. In front of the grand doors of the throne room, a tall, lean elf stood, checking her arrow tips.

“You must be Tauriel.” Amathel nodded her head as a sign of respect, “I am Amathel, daughter of Thranduil.” Though she uttered those words with frequency, they never failed to feel foreign and leaden on her tongue.

Tauriel nodded back, “Your father has asked us to attend dinner then depart.”

“We are to leave in the evening?” Amathel knew that the woods were the most treacherous during the night; in the darkness, creatures who would not likely show their ugly countenances in the daylight found courage to venture out of their dens.

“I suppose we are,” Tauriel chuckled, “I’m sure the king has his reasons.”

“But of course.”

Dinner was quiet as usual. Amathel’s eldest brother and heir to the throne, Elyon, sat to the right of Thranduil, his posture perfect and his bites dainty. Legolas, the youngest, sat properly as well, glancing towards Amathel every few minutes, as if imploring with his eyes, “who is the girl next to you”.

Finally, Thranduil spoke up, “You may have noticed an addition to the table this evening.”

Legolas nodded, relieved that his question was finally being answered.

“This is Tauriel, a Silvan elf with whom Amathel is to go on a scouting mission.” Thranduil announced, extending a graceful arm to towards Tauriel, “They are to leave tonight.”

“About that,” Amathel began, “I mean this with no disrespect, but why are we to leave at night? Night is when danger is greatest.”

“I trust you to defend yourselves,” Thranduil met Amathel’s gaze, “Perceive this as an exercise.”

Amathel nodded and returned to her meal, taking small sips of her wine. As much as she hated to admit it, she was quite a lightweight, and though she could beat any man or dwarf in a drinking contest of their own ale, she could seldom finish more than a glass of elven wine.

Tauriel, on the other hand, finished her glass in two hearty gulps, thanking the servant that filled her glass again. Amathel watched her intently from the corner of her eye, observing her motions. She was bold, each movement strong, but still beautiful. Her features were delicate, yet defined, and her long, red hair cascaded down her back. Unlike Legolas and Thranduil, Amathel and Elyon possessed darker shades of hair instead of the near-white. This was a feature taken from their late mother. Instead of hair color, Legolas had his mother’s thin face and bright eyes.

The remainder of dinner passed in silence. As soon as Thranduil finished his meal, he stood up, his robes billowing out around him.

“You two may grab supplies and depart within the hour.” He motioned towards Amathel and Tauriel, “Be back by nightfall tomorrow.”

“Of course, my lord.” Tauriel bowed her head respectfully and Amathel followed quickly in suit.

Before the two could leave, Legolas caught Amathel’s wrist. “I saw you looking at her.” He mentioned, his voice full of faux nonchalance.

“Indeed.” Though Amathel was caught off guard, she pretended to expect the question, “I am to go on a scouting mission with her tonight, I’d like to get to know her as well as I can.”

“By gazing at her profile throughout all of dinner?” Legolas teased, a playful smile tugging at the edges of his lips.

Amathel huffed quickly, “I must leave. I’ll see you tomorrow, brother.”

“Be safe.” Legolas, placed his hand on Amathel’s shoulder.

“You know I’ll be fine.”

Amathel and Tauriel set off into the forests just as the sun receded behind the peaks of the mountains.

“Tell me about yourself,” Amathel began a conversation, “My father says that you are a proficient hunter.”

Tauriel chuckled, “I’m sure he exaggerates. I am average at most.”

“I’m sure you’re being modest. Why did you learn archery? If you were male, I wouldn’t have to ask, but for women like us, learning to fight is a choice.”

“I wished to be able to protect those that I love.” Tauriel’s horse moved in perfect synchronization with Amathel’s so that they were able to converse with ease. “Also, growing up alongside my brothers, I hated to be the weak one. Learning to fight only felt natural. And you?”

“I am the daughter of Thranduil,” Amathel chuckled, clenching her fist as she uttered the words, “I could have chosen to live my life as a doted-on princess, but like you, raised alongside two brothers, I loathed being weak.”

“You must be an apt fighter.”

“I am not bad, no, but I do not enjoy killing. One day, I hope to live a life of peace. Though I want peace, I don’t want to be weak; I want to know how to defend myself and my people, but never have to use it.”

“You do not enjoy killing?” Tauriel’s eyes widened, “When your father spoke of you, he mentioned the ease in which you have ended the lives of orcs in the past. He says you are a natural.”

“I suppose he would. I spent little time with him while I was younger.” Amathel remembered the first time she had to kill an orc. She had never fought anyone in open combat, only regulated training matches. While on a ride through the forest with one of the elven generals that was in charge of her training, they came across a few errant orcs.

Amathel remembered the terrifying faces of the orcs getting closer to her. Quickly, they would be too close to hit them with arrows and she’d be forced to resort to close combat. She could run away and let the general deal with the orcs. There were few enough for that to be possible; but if he reported back to her father that Amathel was a coward, she’d only be asserting her weakness compared to her brothers. By the time she had mustered enough courage to fight back, the orc was in close combat range. Amathel had been trained extensively with a sword. Unlike her brothers, who preferred daggers, she had chosen a sword.

Unsheathing her blade, she pivoted on her heel, her moves circular and flowy, typical of elven fighters. With well-practiced ease, she parried the blows from the orcs, finally getting into a position to finish it. Holding her breath, she ducked under the orc’s messy blow and plunged the blade into the chink of its armor. Caught by surprise, it stumbled back, allowing Amathel to strike it over the head with the butt of her sword. The orc crumpled to the ground, bleeding black blood over the grass, its body completely motionless.

By the time Amathel had killed a single orc, the elven general had taken out the rest of them.

“Are you alright?” He ran over to where Amathel was frozen, leaning heavily on her sword.

“I killed it.” She murmured, her voice shaking. Glancing at the corpse again, a wave of nausea and dizziness overcame her. Her body heaved as she retched violently, disgusted in what she had done.

“I will take you home to your father now, you are not well.” The general helped her to her feet.

“I am fine!” She pushed the general’s hand away, standing on her own, “It was my first kill, that’s all. I can go on. I need not to return home.” Amathel was afraid that her father would quickly deem her a coward and disallow her from training further. She refused to be seen as weak; not in the eyes of her father.

“I will take you word, then. We continue now.”

“Amathel?” Tauriel’s voice snapped her back into reality.

“Ah yes, my apologies! I was merely spacing out for a moment.” Amathel waved her hand dismissing Tauriel’s concern, “Ah, what was I saying? Right! I truly do dislike killing. The first time I killed an orc, I threw up, in fact.”

“Oh! Well I’m sorry to take you on a fighting mission, then.” Tauriel looked concerned. She expected Amathel to be a stone-cold killer, trained extensively in warfare. Instead, she seemed to be quite the pacifist.

“Worry not! As long as there is danger, I have no qualms against fighting it. I can only hope for a peaceful future.”

“Good, for the orcs have become more bold.” Tauriel’s tone grew serious, “They now venture further into the forest.”

“We will take out as many as we can,” Amathel agreed, “We are nearly at the border of the forest.”

“Shall we make camp and begin scouting?” Tauriel suggested, motioning to the pack on the side of her horse.

Amathel nodded, dismounting her horse gracefully, landing on the ground without a sound. Unpacking the supplies from her horse, she gazed at Tauriel inconspicuously. Amathel noticed how graceful Tauriel was in all movements, as if dancing; the more Amathel observed, the more enthralled she was by Tauriel. Not only was she graceful in movement and speech, but she was strong of will and similar to Amathel herself. Maybe Legolas had a point. Amathel was interested.

After placing her bedroll on the ground, she beckoned Tauriel to sit beside her.

“Tell me of your childhood.” Her voice was quiet and inviting.

“But, we must scout.” Tauriel appeared opposed to the idea. Behind the determination in her eyes, Amathel could spot a yearning for conversation.

“We can spare a minute.” Amathel chuckled, “We will be efficient.”

Tauriel capitulated, settling onto the bedroll, her legs crossed. “My family is small,” she began, gazing off indefinitely, “Very typical, in fact. My father was a royal guard, which provided some privilege, and my mother stayed home and cared for me and my siblings. My brothers were ambitious children. They aspired to be royal guards like my father, training in archery as soon as they could grasp a bow. My parents encouraged it. Strong sons make a prosperous family. They were not nearly as enthusiastic when I expressed interest in warfare. They allowed it nonetheless. My first few centuries were uneventful, sweet childhood. After I was old enough to marry, my parents encouraged it. I refused and found my own way. Though they weren’t pleased, they respected my opinion. That is all.” She smiled softly, looking to Amathel, whose eyes had not left her face. “And you?”

Troubled childhoods were a token of one of royal lineage. If your father was Thranduil of the Mirkwood elves, life was that much more exciting. “I am the middle child.” Amathel started with the obvious fact. As a middle child, she had neither the privilege of the first-born nor the intrigue of the youngest. “My older brother, Elyon, was the perfect heir, similar to father in his sense of...superiority. Though, I will admit, he lacked father’s flamboyance. Before Legolas was born, I spent most of my time with my mother, following her everywhere. Though she was the queen, she was independent and strong. I admired that. Once Legolas was born, I had a playfellow. We got along splendidly; both of us despised the stuffy haughtiness of the palace and would often embark on long rides through the forests. It was nice. Mother died when Legolas was still young. Father never spoke of it, he didn’t spare us the details. All we knew was that she had died. That is all.”

Tauriel simply nodded, her brows creased, as if trying to formulate a response.

Breaking the tension in the air, Amathel stood up. “Let’s scout.”

“Yes, good plan,” Tauriel replied, flustered. Quickly, she assembled her supplies and fastened her quiver over her chest. Signalling to Amathel, she ran deeper into the forest.

[shrike-dyke]

o.c.: the Queen of Six Valleys

Nobody has ever seen the Queen. Sure, the old men down at the tavern will talk your ear off about how their great-aunts met Her or whatever, but those tales are twisted by time even if they were true to begin with. When supplies go up to Her castle overlooking the city of Milldale, or when decrees come out, they're handled with speed and silence by Her army of hooded servants with their featureless masks.

Nobody's ever seen their faces either. They say there was a village mayor up the Crane Hills who tried to gain leverage by ambushing and unmasking the servant delivering Her latest decree, and that just as he was about to strike, three more servants showed up out of nowhere and carried him away never to be seen again.

They say a lot of things, really. I've heard that the Queen is a vampire, or a lich, or even the Devil itself. I've heard that there hasn't been just one Queen, but a sequence of mothers secretly passing on the throne to their daughters. I've heard that actually there is no Queen at all and it's the masked servants who are in control.

It's all just idle gossip, though. Most people don't really care that much. After all, the Realm of Six Valleys has seen neither famine nor plague nor war within living memory, even as neighbouring countries face hardship after hardship — and surely our Queen has at least something to do with that. If the occasional spy or traitor disappears without a trace, well, that's their own problem.

But even so, we're all on the edge of our seats for Her wedding. Our glorious, all-powerful Queen will come out of Her sequester for the first time in over a century … to marry a commoner? The daughter of a baker? How did they even meet? I've been to the bride's family's bakery a few times and it's perfectly ordinary (lovely beet cake though). But it doesn't really matter, as long as they're both happy and the good times continue…

[k2kid]

Confidential War Diary of 18th CANADIAN BATTALION – 2nd CANADIAN DIVISION

From 1st December, 1918 to 31th December, 1918

Volume 40 With appendices 1 – 30

Place Date Hour Summary of Events and Information       Maps for reference: Marche 9, Germany 1 M, 1 L, 2 L. 1/160,000 attached. Appendix No. 27. 28. 29, and 30. Mean- 23.05.40. Marche 9 1   The Battalion moved in full marching order 08.00 Hrs. for VILLERS STE. GERTRUDE, the usual noonday halt was made for dinner. From the Noon Hour on the country became rolling, and hilly and very heavily wooded. The Battalion arrived at the destination at 15:00 Hours. Capt. T.H.C. Rayward, and batman returned from Instructor’s Course at Senior Officer’s School, Aldershot, England. 1 O.R. to hospital. 1 O.R. from leave. Appendix No. 1. Villers Ste. Gertrude. 2-G.95.35 Marche 9 2   Battalion resting in billets. 12 O.R’s on leave and 2 O.R’s returned from leave. 3 O.R’s to Hospital and 1 O.R. returned from Hospital.   3   Battalion resting in Billets awaiting move order. 2 O.R’s to hospital.   4   The Battalion moved in full marching order at 08:30 Hours and marched via GRAND MONIL to ODEIGNE. It rained practically during the entire march of the day. A noonday halt for dinner was made, the Battalion arriving at its destination at 16:00 Hours. The march to-day was stedily [sic] uphill into the heart of the Ardenne Mountains. Lieut. R.E. Rouse and 2 O.R’s from leave and 2 O.R’s to Hospital. Appendix No. 2. Odeigne 3-I 20.10 Marche 9 5   The Battalion moved off at 08:30 Hours in full marching order for COUTRIL, dropping down the latter part of the march into open country. Battalion arrived at its destination at 15:00 Hours. 2 O.R’s to Hospital. Appendix No. 3. COUTRIL 4-K 98.60 6   The Battalion moved off at 08:00 Hours in full marching order for WALL RODE, Germany, crossing the Frontier shortly after 10:00 Hours, and passing through St. Vith about 14:30 Hours, arrived at destination at 16:00 Hours. 8 O.R’s from leave and 3 O.R’s to hospital. Appendix No. 4. WALLERODE 5-C 90.35 Germany 1-M 7   The Battalion moved off at 08:30 Hours for MANDERFELD, arriving there at 15:30 Hours. The country roundabout assuming more of an agricultural aspect. 1 O.R. to Hospital and 2 O.R’s returned from Hospital. MANDERFELD 4-H 60.10 Germany 1-M 8   Battalion resting in billets. Capt. R.R. Hartry and 7 O.R. from leave. 2 O.R’s to Hospital. MANDERFELD 4-H 60.10 Germany 1-M 9   The Battalion moved off at 08:30 Hours for DAHLEM, arriving at destination at 16:00 Hours. The Battalion Headquarters being located in the Post Office. 1 O.R. from leave and 1 O.R. on Course. Appendix No. 6. DAHLEM 3-K 60.45 Germany 1-M 10   The Battalion moved off in fighting order at 08:30 Hours and marched to MUNSTEREIFEL, arriving at destination at 15:00 Hours. Lories provided by Brigade, carrying the Men’s packs. The Battalion was billeted in a Boy’s Boarding School. Appendix No. 7. MUNSTEREIFEL Germany 1-L 11   The Battalion moved at 08:30 Hours in fighting order, and marched to KUCHENHEIM, arriving at destination at 13:30 Hours. The Battalion Headquarters being located in the Burgomeister’s house. 18 O.R’s from leave 1 O.R. to hospital and 1 O.R. returned from Hospital. Appendix No. 8. KUCHENHEIM Germany 1-L 12   The Battalion moved in fighting order at 08:30 Hours and marched to DUISDORF, arriving at 12:00 Hours. 2 O.R’s from leave and 1 O.R. to Hospital. 1 C.S.M. and 11 O.R’s [to] 2nd Divisional Headquarters, Bonn, for Guard Duty. Appendix No. 9. DUISDORF Germany 2-L 7 D 35.40 13   The Battalion moved off in full marching order at 08:00 Hours and marched via Bonn, crossing the famous RIVER RHINE at that point to its final destination in the town of Hennef (Sieg). In passing through Bonn the Battalion marched with rifles at the slope and bayonets fixed and passed in review at the east end of the Bonn Bridge, before the Corps and Divisional Commanders. Lieut.-General A.W. Currie, Corps Commander, taking the salute. Maj.-Gen. H.E. Burstall, Commander of the Division, and the Divisional Staff being immediately in the rear of Lieut.-Gen. Currie on the reviewing stand. Upon the arrival of the Battalion in Hennef, 13:30 Hours, Batt’n. Hdqr’s was located in the office of a manufacturing establishment on Frankfurter Strasse, and Hdqr’s officers were billeted in a large Chateau nearby. The Men of “A”, “C” and “d” and Hdqr’s Companies were assigned to billets they were to occupy during their stay in the area. These billets being in private homes of the civilian population. “D” Company proceeded without delay to the village of Happershass, where they were to be on duty as Outpost Company. 3 O.R’s from lave. Appendix No. 10. HENNEF 6 G 90.80 Germany 2-L 14   On this second day of the stay of the Battalion in this are the Officers and men rested in their billets, recovering in a measure from the hardships of the march. Conforming with Army Orders issued to the Burgomeister and from him to the population in general, many civilians have reported to Batt’n. Hdqr’s. for the necessary Identification Passes for use in the local area. These passes being a description of the holder and having further, his or her photograph attached thereto. Several men of the Battn. having knowledge of the German Language, have been selected for Batt’n. duty as Interpreters, etc. 1 O.R. on Hand Compositors Course. 5 O.R’s from leave. 2 O.R. Canadian Corps Cyclists returned to their unit. 2 O.R’s to Hospital.   15   The Battalion formed up on parade and marched though the town to a theatre, in which nothing in the way of amusement was presented for quite some time, and in which the Battalion now held Church Service. The Padre, being in fine form, gave the Battalion an excellent sermon, which was thoroughly appreciated by all members of the Batt’n. present. 1 O.R. to Brigade Duty as Paymaster’s Clerk. Appendix No. 11 attached.   16   The Battalion carried on with training, as per syllabi attached. Between “A” and “D” Companies’ billeting areas a fine large field was located and it served as an excellent Drill Square or Parade Ground. 1 O.R. to Hospital. Appendix No. 12.   17   Battalion Headquarters Staff and Company moved today to the village of Allner, locating the Battalion Orderly Room in a magnificent large Castle, or as termed in the German tongue, Schloss. The Schloss is a huge and very fine specimen of Architectural Art of an earlier period, and is built entirely of stone. Its is surrounded by a beautiful park. When one has seen the Castle and Grounds he is immediately struck with the thought that it is emblematic of the utmost in luxury and convenience. The Batt’n. Headquarters Officers have appropriated the entire Castle and appurtenances for their quarters, having installed themselves in the Sleeping Chambers and using the Breakfast Rooms, Dining Rooms, Drawing Rooms, Billiard Rooms, etc. at their will. The Castle maintains a large staff of servants and consequently the order of the house is of the finest and our Officers are living, as is their due, in every luxury. In a large forest in the rear of the Castle Grounds Dear [sic] and small game abound and the Officers of the Battalion secure a great measure of enjoyment from their hunting and shooting expeditions. The remainder of the Battalion remain in Hennef and are continuing with their training as per syllabi attached. 6 O.R’s from leave. 1 O.R. to Hospital. Appendix No. 13. Allner 6 G 90.80 Germany 2-L 18   The Men of the Battalion have now fully recovered from the hardships of the march and are training as per Syllabi attached. The spirit of the men is superb and they are entering into the daily routine of their stay here and are carrying on their various duties with an eagerness and willingness that is proverbial with the Canadians as a whole. Clothing parades are being held almost daily and the various Company Quartermasters are as rapidly as possible fitting the men with the required new clothing so that the Battalion has now approached the appearance of smartness that is second to none in the allied Armies and in the Canadian and British Armies in particular. 1 O.R. to Hospital. Appendix No. 14.   19   The Battalion continued their training as per syllabi attached. Lieut. S.G. Stokes and 4 O.R’s on leave. Appendix No. 15.   20   “B” Company moved to-day to Brel to continue their duty as Outpost Company there. The remainder of the Battalion continuing their training per Syllabi attached. 3 O.R’s on leave. Appendix No. 16.   21   The Battalion continues training as per Syllabi attached. 4 O.R’s on leave, 1 O.R. to Hospital. Appendix No. 17.   22   The Battalion attended Church Service to-day and enjoyed an excellent sermon, the Padre being in his usual good voice. Major J.J. Richardson and 3 O.R’s on leave. 2 O.R’s attached to Battalion as interpreters. Appendix No. 18.   23   The Battalion continued training as per Syllabi attached, and are maintaining duties in control of the area in the following manner:-

  Duties of Commandant and Town Major combined in towns of Hennef (North of Railway), ALLNER, Happerschloss, Heisterschloss, Brehl, Mushmuchl and Weldergoven, in the person O.C. Battalion occupying this district. Headquarters at Schloss in Allner. One H.Q. Officer has office at Hennef permanently for purpose of stamping identification cards. District Administration is carried on by the Battalion Administration through the Burgomeister. No civilians are employed.

  One Railway Control Post on broad gauge Railway station at Hennef, which has phone connection to Inter-Allied Railway Commission at Cologne. On the outpost line we have two main Control posts, four subsidiary posts and tow patrols, reference map Germany 2-L.

  No. 1 Post (subsidiary) at railroad bridge under V. in Weldergoven.

No. 2 Post (subsidiary) on dirt road just east of village of Weldergoven, just above N. in Weldergoven.

No. 3 Post (subsidiary) on bridge over river where Hennef road joins Allner road. Directly above W. in Weldergoven.

No. 4 Post (Main Control) on bridge in Muschnuehl road, directly below M. in Muschnuehl.

No. 5 Post (subsidiary) on foot bridge S.E. of village of Brehl halfway between l. in Brehl and T in Triesch.

No. 6 Post (Main Control) on bridge where main road Winterschield crosses river.

No. 1 Patrol covers ground between No. 4 and No. 5 Posts.

No. 2 Patrol covers ground along river from junction main Winterschield road with main Brehl-Schied Road.

Traffic with Neutral territory only through main control posts.

Subsidiary posts to guard bridges and prevent traffic to foot paths etc.

No. 377223 Pte. Bihl W. (193 Labour Co’y) and No. 3108760 Pte. Wieber J. (11th Co’y Cdn. Forestry Corps) are attached from 4th C.I.B. as interpreters at Railway Control Post. We have no F.(b) Police attached.

3 O.R’s on leave and 3 O.R’s returned from leave. 5 O.R’s attached to 2nd Divisional Train. 1 O.R. to Hospital. Appendix No. 19.

    24   The Battalion continued training as per Syllabi attached. 4 O.R’s on leave and 2 O.R’s returned. Appendix No. 20.   25   “‘A MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL’. Christmas  Day dawned bright and clear, with just a touch of snow upon the ground, which gave the vicinity a very “Christmas-like” appearance.

The members of the Battalion were in excellent spirit and thoroughly prepared for anything the day might bring forth. The Officers of the Battalion made every preparation for a fine Christmas Dinner and the men were awaiting it with very keen anticipation. At the appointed hour the tables in the different Company mess-rooms, especially selected for the day, were teeming with good things to eat, and they assuredly presented a most pleasant sight.

“A” Company Mess-room was located in a large hall in the Northern section of the town. “C” Company enjoyed its dinner in a very picturesque theatre in the centre of the town, while “D” Company had theirs in one of the schools the town affords. “B” Company being on duty as Outpost Company, had arranged to  have dinner in one of the schools in the village of Brohl.

Each of the mess-rooms was decorated in a most pleasant and “Christmas-like” style and tended to heighten the then very high spirit of the men. The tables were loaded with Apples, Oranges, Nuts, Ginger-ale, Cakes, etc. and from the serving tables in the rear came the most appetizing odours of Turkey, meats, vegetables, Christmas Plum Pudding and other items to be served as the dinner progressed.

The men took their places at the tables in a very business-like manner, the different platoons being kept together, and then began what was their first Christmas dinner and also, in all probability their last one in German Territory.

Lt.-Col. L.E. Jones and ad Staff Officers and the Officers of the different Companies were in attendance at each of the dinners of the Companies and during the progress of the dinner Lt.-Col. Jones made a short [entered in pencil] speech of good will, wishing the members of the Battalion a “Very  Merry Christmas” and every prosperity for the coming year, which as he remarked would be the one year that would never be forgotten by any one present or by the world in its entirety, being the Anniversary year of the Ending of the War. He again complimented the members of the Battalion upon their share of the conflict and expressed himself as being more than pleased with their conduct in the past and present.

At the close of his address the men express their appreciation of his remarks by rising and giving him three of the most hearty cheers and a “Tiger”.

At the close of the dinner the faces of the men showed, very glowingly, their entire satisfaction. Altogether the occasion was carried off in an excellent manner and it will be one that will never be forgotten by any of the members of this battalion.

2 O.R.s on leave and 3 O.R.s returned.

  26   The Battalion continued training as per Syllabi attached. 4 O.R’s on leave and 1 O.R. returned. 1 O.R. to Hospital. Appendix No. 21.   27   The Battalion continued training as per Syllabi attached. 3 O.R’s on leave and 24 O.R’s  returned. 4 O.R’s attached to Repatriated Prisoners of War Camp, Wahm. 1 O.R. attached as reinforcement. 2 O.R’s to Hospital. Appendix No. 22.   28   The Battalion continued training as per Syllabi attached. Lieut. C.D. Smith and 4 O.R’s on leave. Appendix No. 23.   29   The Battalion attended Church Service and enjoyed another of the Padre’s excellent Sermons. Capt. C.H. Boulden and Capt. W.A.S. Porter and 5 O.R’s on leave, and 1 O.R. returned. 1 O.R. to Fitters Course at Duran. 1 O.R. to Hospital. Appendix No. 24.   30   The Battalion continued training as per Syllabi attached. 1 O.R. on leave to Paris and 1 O.R. returned from leave, from United Kingdom. 1 O.R. returned from Hospital Appendix no 25.   31   The Battalion continued training as per Syllabi attached. 4 O.R’s on leave. 1 O.R. to Hospital and 1 O.R. returned from Hospital. Appendix No. 26.

War Diary

Appendices (Not Including Maps)

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War Diary of the 18th Battalion: December 1918 Confidential War Diary of 18th CANADIAN BATTALION – 2nd CANADIAN DIVISION From 1st December, 1918 to 31th December, 1918…

[bifaq]

Bisexual Media Masterpost

Someone sent us a message asking whether we know any media containing bi characters and I thought “hoo boy time for another masterpost.” So here it is. Add your rec + at least one sentence describing it in the reblogs or responses and I’ll update the post to include them! [these titles] are ones that don’t actually label characters as bi but where a character has relationships with people of more than one gender and isn’t really labelled otherwise. These are ones that have been suggested by our followers. 

TV Shows and Webseries

Brooklyn Nine-Nine - Police squad turned chosen family fighting crime and occasionally each other (in ridiculous bets). 

The 100 - Post-apocalyptic space society decides that for some reason, a bunch of teen delinquents are the best people to repopulate the earth. Except earth already has inhabitants. (cn: bury your gays, tragedy porn)

Black Mirror, specifically the episode San Junipero - Shy awkward gay lady meets bubbly bi lady for dancing, sex and technology-based hide-and-seek.

Orange is the New Black - BamBi discovers that being rich doesn’t (reliably) keep you from going to prison and that other people have real problems. 

How to get away with murder - Black bi law professor cannot believe what her students get themselves into. 

Orphan Black - Clones try to find out how many fucking roles Tatiana Maslany is capable of playing within the same plot. 

Lip Service - Scottish The L Word, which reminds me

The L Word - I really don’t know how to adequately describe this if you’ve never heard of it, please google it. 

Dear White People: A bunch of black college students have very different ideas about how to deal with on-campus racism.

Crazy Ex Girlfriend: Woman thinks moving to a new town to be close to her ex-boyfriend will cure depression, surprisingly finds that this is not the case. 

Couple-ish: Nonbinary bi artist and their lesbian (?) roommate have to fake a relationship for visa purposes. 

Greys Anatomy has a strong female bisexual main character called Callie Torres who is AMAZING but there is a lot of seasons of it

The O.C. - During the second season of this teen drama about a boy from a poor, troubled family being taken in by a wealthy family with problems of their own, a bisexual recurring character is introduced as a love interest for one of the main characters. [The Legend of Korra - Sequel to Avatar: The Last Airbender, follows teenage Avatar Korra as she tries to keep the world and herself in balance with some help from her friends and mentors. (Although the label bi is not used in the show, the creators released a statement explicitly using the word right after the finale aired and it may be in the sequel comics.)]

Shadowhunters - 18 year old girl finds out about her destiny of being a demon-fighting Shadowhunter and goes on a journey to find herself and defeat evil

Movies

[Cloudburst (2011) - adorable old sapphic ladies take a roadtrip to Canada so they can get married before their grandkid can put one of them in a home and split them up.]

[Margarita with a straw (2014) - Talented writer with cerebral palsy discovers that she deserves to be more than people’s token disabled girl, leaves behind unsatisfying boy crushes and (temporarily) her family to go to college in the states and fall in love with a blind lady.]

Brokeback Mountain (2005) - Bisexual shepherds get mistaken for gay cowboys. 

Appropriate Behavior (2014) - Confused twenty-something tries to reconcile being a model Iranian daughter with being a bisexual woman with a live-in girlfriend. (I’m pretty sure there’s some transphobic language, but unfortunately can’t recall the details.)

[When Night is Falling (1995): College professor is torn between boyfriend/colleague and local mysterious circus lady.]

3 (2010) - Midlife-crisis-y couple begins separate affairs with the same guy. (I’m not totally sure if this film is available in English, it’s originally German. It might be my favorite movie ever, though, and I strongly recommend you watch it if you ever have the chance.)

[Frida (2002) - A visually stunning biopic on bisexual painter Frida Kahlo. I recently learned that Salma Hayek was pressured by Harvey Weinstein to include a sex scene with another woman, and honestly don’t know how I feel about that. Not wanting to include a scene that confirms a historical figure’s bisexuality seems not super great, but forcing women to perform sex scenes for the voyeuristic enjoyment of gross dudes in power positions is super disgusting, so.]

RENT (2005) - Struggling artists do their best to (not) pay rent. Instead, they sing a lot (like people in musicals tend to do.)

Books (fiction)

The Second Mango (plus sequels), by @shiraglassman: Lesbian jewish Disney princess goes on magic quests, finds bi working class girlfriend and (platonic) bi royal consort/baby daddy along the way. Includes many more queer characters as well.

Rewriting the Ending, by hp tune: Sapphic broke-writer-meets-rich-heiress fluff. (cn: some unaddressed bi erasure on the part of one protagonist.)

Ex-wives of Dracula by Georgette Kaplan: Cheerleader and dorky girl-next-door develop a thirst for blood and for each other. (cn: grown man trying to hook up with high school girls.)

The Color Purple by Alice Walker: Woman gets mistreated by all the men in her life, realizes her husband’s mistress is the best thing in her life. (cn: domestic abuse & rape)

The Light of the World by Ellen Simpson: Local bi woman cannot believe that her grandmother was gay for another lady, enlists help of her friendly neighborhood historian to find out more. 

Orlando by Virginia Woolf: immortal person finds life is too long to settle for one gender (both identity- and attraction-wise).

[Temple of My Familiar by Alice Walker: A non-linear journey through the lives and thoughts and memories of several connected characters, includes a section featuring the women from The Color Purple.] [Otherbound by Corinne Duyvis: A fantasy in which a boy in our world can for unknown reasons see through the eyes of a bisexual, servant girl in other world every time he closes he eyes.] [Some Girls by Kristin McCloy - a woman in her twenties moves cross country to make a life for herself in NYC despite the wishes of her loved ones.]

The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo 

Books (nonfiction)

When we rise: My life in the movement by Cleve Jones - A personal memoir of an activist of the Gay Liberation movement. Not focussed on bisexuality in any way, but good context I think for debates with people who think it makes sense to define our community by “who originally started it.” Spoiler alert: There was no one person or group and also language and identity evolve over time. 

Sapphistries: A global history of love between women by Leila J. Rupp - It’s an ambitious project to cover all of human history on the entire planet, but this is a pretty good attempt. Deals a lot with evolving identities and the difficulty of pinning labels on historical figures. 

Bi: Notes for a Bisexual Revolution by Shiri Eisner -  A radical look at bisexuality - its history, its power, and the responses it provokes in the world. Blessed Bi Spirit: Bisexual People of Faith edited by Debra Kolodny - A multifaith collection of essays by bisexual people of faith. Published in the 90s, so some of the language is dated but it still is very relevant to today. Some of Us Did Not Die: New and Selected Essays of June Jordan  -  A collection of new and selected essays spanning the entire career of bisexual activist and author, June Jordan. She writes on issues of gender, race, sexuality, violence, writing, politics, etc.

Podcasts

Queery: Cameron Esposito talks to queer people about their identities, feeling ok in your own skin, coming out, and more. (I especially loved the episode where she chats with Stephanie Beatriz who, you guessed it, is bi. There’s also one with Evan Rachel Wood Bisexual.)

The Bright Sessions: Therapy sessions for people with supernatural abilities. What could possibly go wrong?

Love

mod platypus