#52 ancestors

[geneajournals]

Amos Fuller - Earning a Living

Amos Fuller is my 2nd great-grandfather (Ahnentafel #26).  He  was born in Alabama between 1847 and 1850 of Alabama parentage.

The earliest record found for Amos Fuller is the 1870 U. S. Census. He is listed as “Ames” Fuller, a twenty-three year old black male, born in Alabama. His occupation is given as “St.Bt.L???.[1] This abbreviation at first glance is rather cryptic. Ancestry transcribed the occupation as “St Bt Land”. Additional research on Amos’ occupations suggest that “St. Bt.” stands for steam boat.

I was able to trace Amos consistently through the Mobile City directories.  He first appears in the directory in 1877 with the occupation of “laborer”.  Amos is also classified as a laborer in the 1879 and 1880 directories. [2] The 1880 U. S. Census gives Amos Fuller’s occupation as stevedore. This is a dock worker who loads and unloads ships in port.[3]

In the 1884 Mobile City directory, Amos Fuller is listed as a steamboat hand.[4] This means that he was employed by a steamboat as part of the crew. Deckhands made up the bulk of the crew. Most of the deckhands were immigrants and freedmen. Their job was to load and unload cargo transported on the steamboat. Deckhands worked almost 24/7, bunked with the cargo and were paid low wages.[5]

Amos Fuller had a change of occupation as noted in the 1885-1886 and 1887 Mobile City directories. He is listed as “fireman Mobile ice Factory.”[6] Contrary to our popular image of a fireman, Amos was not putting out fires, he was stoking up fires. A fireman’s job was to shovel coal or wood into a boiler to keep it running.[7] Ice factories of the late 1880s used steam engine powered pumps which were integral in the process of making ice.[8]

For the next several years, Amos Fuller was listed in the Mobile City directories as a laborer.

In the 1894 Mobile City directory Amos was listed with the occupation of “fireman stbt D. L. Tally.”[9]   Steamboat firemen reported to the engineer.  The fireman’s job was to stoke the boiler to keep the steam engine running. They shoveled coal all day, hour after hour.  Not only was this a strenuous job, it was also dangerous. If a boiler exploded the fireman would be the first to die. [10] 

The steamer D. L. Tally was a packet boat based in Mobile, Alabama. It traveled the Alabama River carrying freight, mail and passengers.

“The Steamer D. L. Tally,” The Monroe Journal (Claiborne, Alabama), 18 October 1894, p. 2, col. 4, Newspapers.com (https://www.newspapers.com/image/244603449 : accessed 7 February 2024).

Image: Left to Right: D. L. Tally; sternwheel C. W. Anderson, n.d., black and white photographic print. From the Collection, UW-La Crosse Historic Steamboat Photographs. Used with written permission of Murphy Library Special Collections / ARC, University of Wisconsin-La Crosse.

Image: D. L. Tally (Packet, 1870-1895), n.d., black and white photographic print. From the Collection, UW-La Crosse Historic Steamboat Photographs. Used with written permission of Murphy Library Special Collections / ARC, University of Wisconsin-La Crosse.

In the 1900 Mobile City Directory, Amos had the following listing: “Fuller Amos, c, stbtmn, res 252 Lipscomb.”[11] This was the last time his occupation was specified as a steamboat man.

Amos Fuller died on 4 September 1909 of pulmonary tuberculosis.[12] One wonders if his exposure to coal dust had any relationship to the tuberculosis.

Sources

1870 U.S. census, Mobile County, Alabama, population schedule, Mobile Ward 8, p. 36, dwelling 257, family 257, Ames Fuller; digital images, FamilySearch (https://www.familysearch.org/ark:/61903/3:1:S3HT-6FZ9-M5B : accessed 17 April 2021); microfilm 545530/digital 4257608 > image 673 of 818; citing National Archives and Records Administration microfilm M593, roll 31.

Henry Farrow & Co's Mobile City Directory For the Year 1877, (Mobile: Henry Farrow & Co., 1876), 76, entry for "Fuller Amos"; also subsequent years with varying titles, specifically (1878) 68 and (1880) 69; imaged in “U.S., City Directories,” Ancestry (https://www.ancestry.com : accessed 15 September 2017).

 1880 U.S. census, Mobile County, Alabama, population schedule, Mobile, enumeration district (ED) 140, p. 21 (written), 367A (stamped), dwelling 189, family 190, Amos Fuller household; digital images, FamilySearch (https://www.familysearch.org/ark:/61903/3:1:33SQ-GYYL-HRT : accessed 13 September 2017) microfilm 1254025 / digital 5157243 > image 459 of 791; citing National Archives and Records Administration microfilm T9, roll 25.  

George Matzenger’s Mobile Directory For The Year 1884, Volume XX (Mobile: George Matzenger, 1884), 104, entry for ”Fuller Amos”; imaged in “U.S., City Directories, 1822-1995,” Ancestry (https://www.ancestry.com : accessed 6 February 2024) > Alabama > Mobile > 1884 > Mobile, Alabama, City Directory, 1884 > image 55 of 215.

“Steamboat Heroine: The Crew of a Western Steamboat,” Oklahoma Historical Society (https://www.okhistory.org/learn/steamboat4 : accessed 7 February 2024).

George Matzenger’s Mobile Directory For 1885-6 (Mobile: George Matzenger, 1885), 100, entry for “Fuller Amos”; also the subsequent year (1887) 113; imaged in “U.S., City Directories,” Ancestry (https://www.ancestry.com : accessed 15 September 2017).

Wikipedia contributors, "Fireman (steam engine)," Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia (https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Fireman_(steam_engine)&oldid=1187171257 : accessed February 4, 2024).

"When Steam Brought Cold, and Fire Made Ice," blog post, Hometown by Handlebar, posted 14 July 2022 (https://hometownbyhandlebar.com : accessed 4 February 2024).

George Matzenger’s Mobile Directory For 1894, Volume XXIX (Mobile: George Matzenger, 1894), 122, entry for “Fuller Amos”; imaged in "U.S., City Directories, 1822-1995," Ancestry (https://www.ancestry.com : accessed 6 February 2024) > Alabama > Mobile > 1894 > Mobile, Alabama, City Directory, 1894 > image 72 of 273.

 “Steamboat Heroine: The Crew of a Western Steamboat.”

George Matzenger’s Mobile Directory For 1900, Volume XXXV (Mobile: George Matzenger, 1900), 149, entry for “Fuller Amos”; imaged in "U.S., City Directories, 1822-1995," Ancestry (https://www.ancestry.com : accessed 6 February 2024) > Alabama > Mobile > 1900 >Mobile, Alabama, City Directory, 1900 > image 80 of 322.

Alabama Department of Health, death certificate no. 147 (1909), Amos Fuller, d. 4 September 1909, Mobile; digital image,  "Alabama Deaths, 1908-1974," FamilySearch (https://www.familysearch.org : accessed 16 August 2022). This image is only viewable at a family history center or affiliate library.

#52 ancestors #family history

[cgcart]

Week 15: Ancestors 10 April 2022 — 16 April 2022

The quote inside the Fibonacci spiral reads: "We do not inherit the earth from our ancestors, we borrow it from our children" -Haida

I used metallic watercolors, latex resist, and cuts of origami paper.

#Journal 52 #Journal 52 2022 #Journal 52 week 15 #week 15 prompt #week 15 #Fibonacci #spiral #watercolor #Haida #ancestors

[food4dead]

today's struggle: being percieved while doing something i dont even want to be doing

#ive been sitting in my car in the parking lot at the gym for like 30 mins #i told myself id go in once my phone charged to 50% #its now at 51% #i hate this and i hate it here #why couldn't my ancestors have just been fucking SKINNY #and why couldn't i have just had a body that FUNCTIONS WITHOUT NEEDING MAINTENENCE #FUCK #my phones at 52% now #alright ALRIGHT #im going

[perfectalpacacollector-f543cd03]

52 Ancestors: Strieby Church, Randolph County, North Carolina, Family Reunion

Another look back at Strieby's 2022 Homecoming as we get ready for this year's Homecoming and Open House on the 26-27 August.

Strieby Congregational United Church of Christ in Asheboro, North Carolina, has held Homecoming (Reunion)/Revival services on the fourth Sunday in August, for all of its 144 years so far as we have been able to ascertain. Over the past 10 years we, the descendants of the original community who grew up around the church, established in 1879, have made a concerted effort to preserve, share, and…

View On WordPress

#52 ancestors in 52 weeks #Black Cemetery Network #Family Reunion #Jerry Wolford #Mark Kemp #Our State Magazine #Randolph County NC #Reconstruction-Era National Historic Network #Scott Muthersbaugh #Strieby Church Homecoming #Strieby Congregational Church #Strieby Congregational Church School and Cemetery Cultural Heritage and Literary Landmark

[marthawrites]

could you write smut for Aemond like prompts 1, 15, 11, 52, 49, 25, 13, and 26? They are all so good 🥹 Reader could be his betrothed (Targaryen would be perfect but if you aren't comfortable then Stark is great) and Aemond didn't want to wait until the wedding

Hello dear nonnie! You requested this back in September - I apologize for making you wait so long for this story. If you're still around I hope it's what you want, and that you enjoy this rendition of Aemond and his (fanon) niece!

Shadows, Beastsong, and Dragonblood

Aemond Targaryen x niece reader

Word count: 7.6k+ (whoops)

About: Growing up you and your uncle Aemond always shared a special kinship. As you grew older, tension between your family and his rose. Moving to Dragonstone led to long years of not seeing each other. When you and your mother visited her father, King Viserys, yours and Aemond's relationship changed. It changed further, years later, upon your final visit to the capitol.

Includes: Fluff, angst, tension, and smut. Featuring incest (uncle x niece), mentions of Aemond's virginity loss at the brothel, mentions of minors sexually experimenting, male receiving oral sex, vaginal fingering, adult reader's virginity loss, and unprotected vaginal sex.

Note: Hello lovely reader! This story follows canon events. HERE is the prompt list used. Reader is technically a Velaryon!Strong bastard who personally identifies as a Targaryen because she looks just like her mother, Rhaenyra. Reader is implied to have pale skin, silver hair, and purple eyes - everything else is entirely up to you. Rhaenys has her canon black hair in this fic. I heavily debated about breaking this into three parts but decided to keep it as a single story. This fic has many firsts for me and it's different than those I've written in the past. It took a lot of effort and I hope you enjoy it!

I.

The years following Rhaenyra Targaryen and Laenor Velaryon’s marriage bared fruit after fruit. It wasn't long long after Jacaerys’ birth that Rhaenyra began to show signs of another pregnancy. A woman’s body goes through tremendous changes during, for, and after childbirth, and sometimes her moon cycle can take half a year to return to normal. The princess’ first moon’s blood after his birth hadn’t the chance to appear before the maester’s deemed her pregnant for a second time. 

Another boy, Laenor hoped, to help strengthen the Velaryon line. A healthy babe, Rhaenyra hoped, to love and grow.

Their second child was pinker and paler than Jace upon entering the world. Unlike your brother who had a fine covering of dark hair over his head, yours was so pale it looked akin to winter’s first snow upon your head. A tiny, sweet, healthy baby girl who would grow into the very image of your mother.

And, again, after you came into the world, Rhaenyra showed signs of pregnancy soon after. Laenor got what he hoped for with their third child: another boy, Lucerys, with a splattering of dark hair over his head, too.

Another three years would pass before your little brother, Joffrey, was born. Dark of hair and dark of eyes just like his two older brothers.

As you all grew, none of your brothers showed any signs of Targaryen or Velaryon features. They all had rich brown eyes, dark curly hair, and were quicker to tan than you. Whereas you were a copy of your mother. A true Targaryen beauty: silver hair, pale skin, and eyes the color of amethyst. If Rhaenrya was the Realm’s Delight, then you were the Charm of the Realm. The only thing you lacked as a Targaryen was a dragon. Disappointingly, the egg that was placed in your crib never hatched. The older you grew, and the more you learned of the world, the more you hoped to have a dragon of your very own one day. Rides on Syrax with your mother–thrilling as they were–left you sad. You wanted to be in charge of the reins. You wanted to speak and command a dragon. You wanted the power of your Targaryen ancestors; a conqueror like Queen Visenya or Queen Rhaenys.

You and your brothers grew alongside your uncles, Aegon and Aemond, and your aunt, Helaena, in King’s Landing. As young children you all, for the most part, got along well. You and your uncle Aemond shared one profound thing together: neither of you had a dragon. It was a topic of extreme sensitivity for him. And because of this, sadness, anger, and even embarrassment hung around him from a young age. You wouldn’t lie and say you didn’t carry those emotions in your heart, too, because you did, but Aemond’s was heavier. Suffocating. 

Shameful. 

When everyone else trained in the dragonpit you and Aemond were known to stay in the library together. You bonded quickly through tales of your shared ancestry, love of philosophy, and the histories. Much to Aemond's annoyance, your penmanship surpassed his own. When you told your mother you wanted to be a scribe when you grew older she laughed. “Princesses aren't scribes. You will do much more wondrous things than live your life by the quill.”

You nodded, ever sweet to your mother, and still practiced your writing. Your septa and parents praised you–and Aemond scowled in your retellings. It made you giggle. It was harmless and the extra attention (however negative it seemed to be) from your uncle who was barely older than you made your heart soar; emotions you couldn’t quite name soared too.

He surpassed you in everything physical. If it happened in the training yard, he had you beat by a league.

You surpassed him in subtlety. At first, you were the one who snuck up on him. You were the one who showed him secret passageways in the Red Keep, as well as hidden nooks and crannies that had surely been forgotten.

It didn’t take Aemond long to exceed your skill, however.

Time went on and life continued. With each passing year the innocence of childhood melted like candlewax. You all stopped playing as often until play happened no longer. When once there were shared sweets, games of tag, and exaggerated stories of ‘grand adventures’ to the stables, now there was gossip. Whispered words, sniggers behind hands, and an air of aloofness that had never been there before took over.

“Why do you and your family treat me and my brothers like this now, uncle?” You asked Aemond with flushed cheeks and eyes filled with unshed tears. Whether it were anger or hurt he could not tell. Your heart couldn't, either.

“They look nothing of their father. Or my sister,” he answered plainly with an edge of something you couldn't quite decipher. 

“And what of our cousin Rhaenys? Hm? The Baratheon blood runs strong in her for she is black of hair. No different than my brothers!”

“‘Tis different,” Aemond answered curtly, still refraining from speaking bluntly to you about what his mother gossiped about.

“It's not!” You proclaimed.

Not long after that confrontation did Laena Velaryon suffer an unfortunate death. Her funeral was memorialized in King's Landing with the closest of her kin. And, as the God's would have it, it was that fateful night Aemond gained a dragon–Vhagar, the largest and oldest in the world–in exchange for his eye.

A small price to pay for the way the young prince would bloom beneath her wings.

Rhaenyra’s family, as well as Alicent’s family, were all summoned by King Viserys to make sense of what happened to Aemond and why it happened. Tension swelled and crackled through the collected room like living storm clouds. You stood quietly behind your mother, purple eyes wide and scared as you surveyed the chaos. Even as all the kids yelled over one another trying to make their side of the story heard, you didn’t utter a peep. How desperately you wanted to ask Aemond himself what happened. How terribly you wanted to hold his hand through the pain of his slashed face being stitched up. How awfully you wanted to kiss him if only to let him know he could still feel something–to see if he could still feel something. 

The King seemed to hold no love for his son as he asked him–ordered him–to tell the truth. You felt your heart breaking as you witnessed father and son hold a stare off that could alight the entire room aflame. Two dragons, one old and one young, challenging each other, daring each other, their teeth seconds away from rending into the other.

The following moments were a blur and you didn’t realize what was happening until Alicent ran to your mother with her husband’s dagger clenched in her hand. You screamed and were pulled away in time to not get pushed or stumbled over. Blood spilled and the tension broke in a devastating clash of emotions. Emotions you, as a child, couldn’t understand, not fully. 

Kings Landing was no longer safe for your family. 

During the following days, before departing for Dragonstone, you were able to sneak to Aemond a handful of times. He didn’t talk much. You never pressured him to. Often, it was only silence and your uncle’s soft sobs that filled the otherwise quietness of his bedchamber. It was at the peak of those times, those heart wrenchingly raw moments, that you would sing to him. Admittedly you were no singer–flat most of the time and awkwardly sharp at others–but neither of you cared. You weren’t even sure if the song you sang was proper in its pacing and pronunciations. It was a song you both deemed secret: learned from the pages of an Old Valyria history book, paced to your own tune, the ancient words were sung with all the wonder of adolescence. 

Vhargar and Aemond’s bond had already been forged by grit, determination, and a kind of stupidity that only young boys held, and it grew by the day. You weren’t sure if Vhagar’s roars were louder while Aemond quietly sobbed into your comforting embrace, or while he was utterly silent. You wondered what brewed beneath the surface during those times. Part of you was afraid of what that silence might gestate. There were many tales of beasts being soothed by music, and so you sang and hoped your ancient song might keep his beast at bay.

“We’re leaving for Dragonstone at first light, uncle,” you said to him a little sadly. You hadn’t ever been away from Aemond. Would the libraries at Dragonstone offer the same respite as the ones here at King's Landing? Would you see hopeful glimpses of him from the corner of your eye only to realize it a play of your imagination?

While he acknowledged your words he didn’t say anything in reply. 

“When do you think we’ll see each other again?” You asked softly, tentatively.

“Likely when we are grown and free to make our own decisions,” he answered, words flat. 

It stung. It hurt. “Then I shall tame one of the wild dragons and fly to visit you.” Aemond’s single eye, that lovely hue so similar and so different to your own, glittered at you for the briefest second. So he can still feel things, you thought to yourself. The corner of his mouth twitched in tandem, and before you could stop yourself you learned forward and pressed the gentlest kiss to the outside of his mouth. You didn’t stay to catch his reaction for you turned on your heel and walked down the secret passage from whence you came; naught more than a whisper of silken skirts.

Such affection would be improper by Gods and men alike if you were born of a different bloodline. The Targaryens were closer to Gods than men, however, and so you did not have to play life by man’s traditions. The blood of the dragon runs thick, and your heart pulled to Aemond. A surge of energy rushed through you and you wanted nothing more than to kiss him properly. But when you turned to look over your shoulder, you only saw darkness. He was already gone.

II.

Dragonstone’s libraries were much different than the big library in the Red Keep. Over the following years, you finally, slowly, began to feel peace akin to what you and Aemond shared. Similar, but not quite.

Rhaenyra married her uncle Daemon and they had given you two more little brothers: Aegon and Viserys. Part of you missed life in King’s Landing with its bright sunshine, lavish gardens, and wide populace. Despite the grimness of Dragonstone, however, this place truly felt like home. An ancient seat of Targaryen glory, the the Targaryen's of old spared nothing while crafting this castle with arcane arts, dragonfire, and sorcery. The fabled magic of it sent your veins thrumming. If it weren’t for Aemond you might not ever want to go back to King’s Landing. Aegon’s garden was your favorite place in all of Dragonstone with its tall dark trees, wild roses, and thorny hedges. You wrote diary entries as well as letters there. You and Aemond wrote back and forth a few times over the years, but just like in childhood when games of chase were played no more, your letters, too, stopped. Still, the garden with its piney scent and tart cranberries remained your place of solace.

A letter from King Viserys arrived some time after you’d turned fifteen. Rhaenyra pulled you aside that same day, away from your brothers, and said, “father’s health is beginning to fail. I'm going to see him. Daemon said he will stay here while I visit on dragonback. Would you like to come with me? I’d love for you to. And I know Syrax would too,” she smiled hopefully, giving your forearm a gentle squeeze in annunciation.

You blinked, slightly taken back, before beaming a bright smile. “Of course, mother! I miss my grandfather and would love to see him.”

“I’ll send a raven. Perhaps he will have a belated nameday gift for you,” your mother answered with one of her playful expressions. 

A return letter was indeed sent and over the next few days Rhaenyra and Daemon made plans for the upcoming week. It wouldn’t be a long stay but that didn’t stop excitement from crawling up your spine and settling in your belly. How would uncle Aemond be? It’d been so long since you two had seen each other! It'd even been a long time since you wrote to one another. Would he remember you as you remembered him? Would he even care to see you?

You donned your warmest wool and most comfortable leathers for the flight to King’s Landing. Gray clouds broke to open blue sky and the brisk salty air had you feeling like you were in charge of the flight. Syrax knew the way well and flew right where she knew to–the dragonpit.

There wasn’t a grand welcome for your arrival and yet somehow it felt more comfortable than being paraded around for hours on end and being forced to entertain a grandiose feast. Viserys–he did look ailing, much more than you last remembered–and Alicent welcomed Rhaenyra and yourself. Ser Criston Cole and Aemond stood with them.

He did want to see you!

“Father! I’m sorry we haven’t been back sooner. Daemon and I–”

Excited hugs were exchanged between the three of you, and the conversation droned out as pressure built behind your ears; dull ringing taking over as anxiety, excitement, and something else unnamed thrilled along your spine. Aemond, only a short time older than you, was no longer the boy you remembered. He’d grown tall and sharp. Any softness of childhood melted away during the last few years. Placed over his damaged left eye was a simple black leather eyepatch. It stood out starkly against his pale complexion–though, it matched the rest of his black leather attire. His slash healed well, you thought privately, but a gnarly scar remained. It looked painful.

Aemond peered at you looking at him; keen. Something simmered beneath his eye and you were reminded of singing to him all those years ago–how you’d hoped to soothe any beast that might be growing in the shadows. The corners of his bowed mouth quirked.

“Darling?” Your mother asked, her voice finally making sense in your head as she turned to regard you closer. “Are you feeling okay?”

With a quick flutter of blinks you looked up to her. “Sorry. Yes, I’m feeling alright. A bit tired from the flight is all. May I have a snack before supper?”

“Of course,” she replied with a reassuring squeeze of your hand.

Alicent smiled. You always thought her pretty. A part of you wondered how none of her children shared her brown eyes or auburn hair. “Check with the kitchen. I’m sure there’s breads and cheeses available at the very least. Wine, too, I imagine.” She looked between you and Aemond before adding, “let Aemond take you. He’s been quite excited to see you since Rhaenyra’s letter.”

“Uncle,” you breathed, surprised by your lack of breath upon saying his name. “I daresay I barely recognize you.”

“I could say the same, niece. It's been many years,” he said with an inclination of his head. “You are looking a little faint. Let’s find you some food, hm?” He asked. 

At first, conversation proved to be sparse. Before, things had always been so easy with Aemond and silence had always been comfortable. Now, it didn’t feel easy nor did the silence feel comfortable. Anytime you looked up at him, or over to him, he was already looking at you. His attention barely seemed to wander elsewhere. You ate until you felt better while Aemond pretended to eat. Slowly, with effort on your part, conversation picked up. Before too long the air of awkwardness lifted and your shoulders relaxed.

Aemond seemed to notice, too.

Three days followed and each proved to be more eventful than the last. You’d met up with your aunt and uncle, Helaena and Aegon, and happily–even if Aegon's jests were more perverse than you ever remembered–caught up with them. They were married now. Though, you saw no sort of physical or emotional connection between them. You liked Helaena; you wondered, privately, if life was treating her well, and if she found any enjoyment within it. The faraway look in her eyes suggested not, but you remembered her always being a peculiar child. She didn’t always have both feet in this world, you realized, and you didn’t feel any sort of jealousy for her otherworldly gift. Did dreamers fall into a silent abyss while slumbering? Or did they even dream when they slept, resulting in a never ending barrage of sight and madness?

On the fourth day Aemond introduced you to Vhagar. Sympathy–or perhaps pity–shone in his eye when you told him you still hadn’t bonded with a dragon. “And here I remember you saying you would tame a wild dragon so you might fly across the sea to visit me?” He proclaimed with an arch of brow, snark and jest in equal measurements.

“It’s not quite so easy. I enjoy my skin and my hair. I have heard many tales of brave men trying to bond with those dragons only to end up as a pile of ash. Or forever scarred. Or–” you lowered your voice and tipped closer to him, adding with a whisper, “–lacking of limbs.” You tilted your chin, purple eyes glittering with playfulness; teasing, testing.

“Hm,” he stifled a laugh with a press of his lips. “Both of those are a marvel. It would very much be a shame to scathe the beauty of Old Valyria.”

Your heart jumped and you blushed. Surely he was only being kind, right?

He flew you on Vhargar until the spilled watercolors of sunset mottled into gray. Upon returning to the Red Keep, tucked away in one of your secret childhood places, Aemond dared to kiss your lips. Stunned and exhilarated alike, you returned the affection with fervor. He wasn’t your first kiss, but the things that sparked and webbed through your body were much more intense than any before. “Aemond…,” you whispered against his mouth. “We shouldn’t be doing this, uncle.”

“You can stop any time,” he rasped in reply, eye dark.

In a shuddered breath you admitted, “I don’t want to.”

“Me either.”

You kissed until voices and footsteps filled the nearby corridor. Hiding your giggles behind a hand, you slunk away in direction to your chamber leaving Aemond behind. You turned to see where he might be going. Already he’d turned on his heel and strode in the opposite way. He didn’t follow. That night–with a thundering pulse– you dreamt of wild roses, flying, and your hands on your uncle’s chest while he kissed your neck.

The following day was yours and your mother’s last day in the capitol. She intended to leave after lunch, and until then she let you do as you please. Requesting, of course, to be back in time to leave on time. With how much you missed the rest of your family you could only imagine how much she missed them!

“Come to Dragonstone with us. I don’t want to leave you so soon. I can show you all my favorite places at home. At the ancient seat of our family,” you added the last bit with bright eyes in hopes of seducing him away with you.

“My place is not there,” replied Aemond. “I am to stay here with my mother and siblings. ‘Tis my duty as second son.”

You knew, as second son, that Aemond would have to carve his own path with fire, blood, and teeth–heavy emphasis on the latter, most likely.

“Daemon can train you. Our castle yard has an impressive training pit. It’s different from the one here. Everything is different there. There’s some nights when the magic in the walls makes my blood sing. There is no magic like that left here,” you tried to coax him further, stepping close so you had to look up at him with soft eyes. Eager eyes.

Instead of accepting or denying your request he leaned down and kissed you like he did yesterday. And just like yesterday you warmly accepted the affection. The blood of the dragon runs thick, and dragonblood runs hot. Despite your relation, and despite yourself, you found yourself wanting. Needing. He was too. You could tell by the tightness of his pants. Two young dragons hidden away amongst sparse candlelight in a secret passage perhaps only Maegor the Cruel knew of. “I’ve always wanted to try something. Will… will you let me?”

He pulled back to peer at you curiously. “What is it?”

Slowly, running on an instinct that any wanton young woman harbored, you sank down onto your knees before him. “You can tell me to stop at any time. Okay?”

Aemond wasn’t an idiot. He nearly spent in his pants at the very sight of you lowering like that. Aegon had taken him to a brothel on the Street of Silk for his thirteenth nameday, and he lost the last innocence of boyhood within those perfumed walls; a secret not many knew. And, perhaps less knew how much he despised it–how it disgusted him. The thought still made his stomach turn.

But you? His beautiful, perfect niece, with your epitome of Targaryen beauty?

He never asked you to stop as you sated your curiosity. The rush of sensation that blazed through his body was more intense than anything he’d yet experienced. At the peak of his pleasure he swore he blacked out.

He returned the gift as best as he could with his fingers. 

You barely made it back in time to your mother to fly back home. You sincerely hoped she didn’t ask any questions about where you were or why you were running late.

III.

As the Gods would have it, it would be another few years before Rhaenyra and her family were summoned to King’s Landing for, perhaps, an even more dire situation than the first: the legitimacy of Lucerys’ claim to Driftmark and its throne. It was a matter already settled many years ago by none other than King Viserys. Yet, still, conflict stirred with Vaemond Velaryon and his proclamation.

A never ending political headache for the King who’s health was in such despair it was a miracle he lived to see each new morning.

Similar to when you and your mother arrived three years prior, there wasn’t a grand welcome awaiting your family. In fact there was… nothing. Tension sparked to new heights and you wanted nothing more than to crawl into yourself and disappear. While not entirely disappearing, you and your brothers made way to the private guest bedchambers; Rhaenyra made sure to have rooms arranged for all of you prior to arriving. Before leaving, she told all of you that she would summon you later once things were settled. Or supper. Whichever came first.

Truthfully you had no plans to eat with everyone. Uncaring of any potential consequence it might bring you loosened your hair, stripped down to your shift, and plopped in bed so heavily that a plume of dust rose from the sheets. If you were less exhausted–mentally and physically–you’d be repulsed by the dust. Right now? You cared little.

Slumber washed over you like the waves you were so used to at home.

You didn’t wake until hours later when a servant rapped over and over upon your door. “My lady? Hello?” 

Coughing and turning to face the doorway, you asked, “what is it?”

A young girl stepped inside and bowed. “Your mother has summoned you for dinner.”

“Bring me a plate, please. I have no wish to eat with a crowd tonight.”

She twisted her hands a few times as if in disapproval but said nothing. Instead, she simply nodded, bowed again, and left with a click of the door.

That night you ate alone and silently hoped Aemond would come find you. Surely he knew ways around the Keep that would lead him to you... But, he never did. After eating your fill you slept like the dead.

Sunrise gently woke you and gradually you began to prepare for the day. Once ready to get dressed, you were confused to see your dress on the floor instead of on the back of the chair you hung it over last night. Strange… you thought to yourself, scanning around the room for what might have caused it. A section of curtain fluttered with morning breeze and when you walked to inspect it you realized the window had been partially cracked. You laughed a short sound and rolled your eyes–how silly to be paranoid about the breeze. You couldn’t remember any strong gusts last night, but you did sleep very hard.

Fully around, now, you made your way to find breakfast. Eventually you did and broke fast with your brothers. For a few moments it felt like you were all children again. Talking, laughing, stealing bits of food off each other’s plates, it felt… good. Homey. Lighthearted in a way only they could make you feel. Once finished, they departed for the training yard and you went to explore the gardens. There might not be any wild roses here and the hedges might be considerably less thorny than those at Dragonstone, but that didn’t stop you from missing it. 

Flowers, shrubs, and trees were in full beautiful display and their fragrances sent you right back to childhood. You lost track of how long you wandered. At least a full hour, surely. Likely more. It wasn’t until you heard your name spoken behind you that you snapped back to reality. Turning to look over your shoulder, you stuttered, excited and surprised, “Aemond!”

He stood taller and sharper than he did three years ago. He was a man grown, now, just like you were a woman grown. Gone were any traces of awkward lankiness. He was slim, yes, but judging by the width of his shoulders he had a strong back and arms. “Niece,” he replied. “Your brothers graced my training session earlier. As did Vaemond Velaryon and his entourage,” he paused to inspect a bit of dirt on his sleeve before folding his arms behind his back. “I thought perhaps your strong brothers might grow into their Velaryon features as they aged. But, alas, they haven’t.”

Prick.

Was he really going right for your throat? Immediately?

“Do you have so little faith in your sister’s lineage” You asked, hands folding behind your back, mirroring him, as you slowly closed the distance between yourselves with deliberate steps. “Myself and all my brothers were grown in the belly of a dragon. Birthed into this world by a dragon. Tell me, uncle, how is that any different than being seeded by a dragon?”

“It is not my sister’s lineage I lack faith in, dear niece, it’s the roots she climbs.”

Fury heated your face and for a moment you considered punching him in his stupid, sharp, beautiful nose. Or perhaps kneeing him in the root he no doubt made reference to. In the span of three heartbeats you settled for neither and instead gave him a disappointing quirk of mouth. “And here I was upset that you didn’t come to say hi to me last night.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I saw you plenty last night.” he said, tone making it seem like everyone watched you sup together even though you ate alone.

You squinted at him suspiciously. “Did you come find me to be rude, or was there another reason you graced my company?”

“We recently received a collection of books from Myr. Would you like to look at them with me?” Hopefulness briefly lit his features. Idly, you wondered what his deal was. He was an outright asshole only a moment ago, and now he offered to read with you like you did so often as children? The library always had been a place of solace for both of you. Mayhaps he was simply nervous today, on edge, and let the ugliness of anxiety guide his tongue. It would be quiet in the library–the perfect place to, perhaps, connect once again as adults.

You continued to look up at him, attempting to read his features, before replying, “sure. Only if we can have tea and scones too.”

It was his turn to squint at you suspiciously.

That made you laugh; tension began to ease around both of you. “I won’t get crumbs on the pages. Promise!”

And so, walking shoulder to shoulder, you both made way to the library. Tea and scones arrived shortly afterward. As soon as you began reading from different tomes conversation began to flow more freely. Nerves might be flying wild everywhere else in the Red Keep, but here? Safely within these walls? You relaxed. Aemond relaxed. There were no more subtle jabs at bastardry, nor Driftmark, nor anything else. Every now and then you’d laugh and Aemond would smile. Other times it was perfectly silent. When you thought him engrossed by something he read, you eyed him carefully through your peripheral vision–and sometimes with your full vision–trying to keep rising sensations at bay. Despite his sharp tongue and rude quips, he was horribly handsome. You thought he was the last time you were here, too, and now those same feelings intensified to new heights. You caught him doing the same to you. Though, he didn’t coyly turn away when caught. Tension of a different sort heated the air around both of you. 

Hot-blooded. 

Dragonblood.

You ate supper with your mother that night. She and Daemon discussed things from earlier in the day but you paid it little mind–yours was still on Aemond. 

After supper you had a quiet night in your bedchamber. You requested a bath, and it didn’t take the servants long to prepare it for you. Soaking in the hot water was exactly what you needed–complete with your favorite oils generously added to the water until sweet florals and subtly spicy scents lingered around you. By the time you were done your fingers and toes were wrinkly and the water was tepid at best. Sitting in front of the vanity, you dried and braided your silver hair for bed. The day’s events–Aemond–proved to be mentally exhausting. Conflicting emotions warred in your mind as you laid in bed and started up at the neat lace underlay of the four poster bed’s silken drapes.

A noise at your door startled you from whatever daydream danced in your head. How was it opening? You triple checked the lock! Who was coming inside? Frozen and wide eyed, you couldn’t move from your spot upon the bed as someone silently intruded. As the figure stepped out of the shadowy frame you took note of their height, body shape, and silver hair… “Aemond!?” You asked shrilly. “Seven Hells what on earth are you doing?”

“Coming to pay a proper visit to my little niece, of course,” he answered with quiet amusement. Standing at the side of your bed, now, he tilted his head and continued, “I requested a specific guard for this duty tonight so I could slip past him.”

You looked up at him as he looked down at you, regarding you closely. Something shone behind his eye and you couldn’t quite put a finger on it. A rush of emotion rose and settled in the pit of your belly as Aemond gently dragged his thumb across your lower lip. Down the curve of your chin. You swallowed thickly. “You could have just as easily knocked like any regular person would, uncle,” you said.

“What's the fun in that?”

Silence followed as you both took each other in, that unknown expression behind his eye becoming more clear. Lust. 

Did your own gaze mirror it too? The sound of your blood filled your ears.

“Do you remember the last time you were here? When we were in that passageway all alone?” He asked, tracing the backs of his fingers along your pretty face. 

Of course you did. You smiled–coy–and tipped your head into his touch. “Quite well.”

A soft satisfied hum accented the curve of his mouth. “Good.” His fingers pressed against the underside of your chin as he tilted your face up to him, embers sparking through the eye contact. “I've searched for that type of release again and again and have yet to find it,” he said; desperation and intensity so evident you knew he meant it.

Shivers took over your entire body and your spine arched forward, curving as if to seek the sensation of his body against yours. “You have?” You asked between parted lips. 

“I have.”

A hot rush of excitement overcame you and before you knew it both of your hands pulled on the buckles of his tunic, pulling him down to you. You kissed him fiercely and he returned it with ferocity. There wasn't anything tentative about it; lips, tongue, teeth, all meshing until you whimpered into his mouth.

Aemond pushed you back on the bed and fell atop you, one arm holding him up for support, as his silken hair draped along his face. He was so warm, and felt so good over you, that you moaned into his kiss again; he swallowed it whole.

You whined, voice raspy and sweet alike, as you tugged on the front of his belt, “again. I want to do it again,”

“Look at you, so needy for my cock,” he rumbled against your neck, kissing and nipping along the sensitive flesh. He grinned warmly into the crook there and you giggled.

Pushing yourself up on your elbows you turned your body so you could push him onto his back. The startle of his angular lovely face was more than enough reward. With the new position you could feel how hard he was inside his pants, and you wondered if he could feel your heat through the thin material of your smallclothes. You slid down the front of his body until you knelt delicately on the floor. Looking up at him as innocently as you could, your hands ran up the lean length of his thighs while you nestled between them. “You left my window open last night,” you whispered at him as your fingers began to unlace the front of his bottoms.

A low, restrained sound came from Aemond at the combination of your touch and words. “I don't know what you're talking about,” he replied with cool indifference, supporting himself partially up with his elbows so he could watch you.

A knowing smile spread on your pretty lips as you answered, “you're a bad liar, uncle.” Kissing the flat plane of his abdomen, you tugged the front of his pants down until he was fully freed; hard, solid, and already blazing with heat. You moved those same kisses lower–placing them all around the base of his need until your nose tickled with his scent. His length twitched, the velvety smoothness of him bumping your face.

Above you, he hissed an inward breath, head tilting to the side. “Go on then, this cock isn't going to suck itself now is it?” He crooned, doing his best to appear in control even though his heart thumped wildly with anticipation and the clawing ache to be inside of you–any part of you–had him going mad.

If the slick between your thighs wasn't already unbearable you'd have retorted his taunt. But, you wanted this nearly as much as him. Lifting one of your hands you gripped around his length, pumping slowly, as you rolled your tongue beneath his tip; tasting him, teasing him, coating that part of him with saliva so you could more easily take him into your mouth.

Aemond could have lost it there–would have lost it if he hadn't already fucked his hand to release prior to visiting you. “Did I tell you you could use your hands?” His eye glittered like dragonglass.

Without having to be told again you released your grip and instead held onto the tops of his thighs with both hands, the wholeness of your expression feline. You licked up each side of his cock, circling your tongue around his head, again and again, coating him to your satisfaction. And then, just when you saw Aemond's hips twitch and flex beneath you, you took him into the fullness of your mouth and consumed him.

He groaned, head tipping back. Countless times had he tried to recreate the pleasure you gave him first; no woman ever made him feel the same way and he hated them for it. 

You bobbed, and sucked, and savored the hot solid length of him in your mouth. You dragged and worked your tongue against him, too, lost in the heady sensations of him. The quiet sounds he made coaxed you further and soon you became uncaring of the slobbery mess you were leaving on him. Relaxing your throat, you swallowed as much of his cock as you could. When you gagged at the intrusion you pulled your head up, only to do it again. And again. You moaned around him; wanton.

It was too much for Aemond. Somehow he grew even hotter, even harder, and soon one of his hands pushed your head down while his hips bucked up into your mouth. He panted. Peak was so close. Looking down at you, then, he saw how dazed and desperate you were as he fucked your mouth. The knot of pleasure at the base of his spine exploded and he groaned, guttural, as his balls tightened and cock released down your throat.

You about peaked with him. Breathing through your nose you did your best to take all of him, the hot pulses of his length making you clench around nothing. 

“Swallow. All of it,” Aemond said down at you, slowly easing the pressure of his hand on your head.

Panting, you did. You showed him your empty mouth with pride. “Dragonseed is never to be wasted, uncle.”

If Aemond had anything intelligible to say it didn’t leave his mouth properly. Both his hands gripped around your upper arms and he yanked you up, maneuvering you atop the bed once more. Reaching to the open belt around his waist he unsheathed his dagger with a whisper of leather and steel. It glinted orange in the chamber’s lowlight. “My sweet, lecherous niece…,” he said darkly, sweetly, pinning you down to the bed as he loomed above you. “I know how to make you a true Targaryen, bastard,” he hissed the last word into the shell of your ear and reveled in the way he saw your throat tighten in defiance.

You tensed beneath him and he laughed.

“My favorite bastard,” he crooned, trailing his dagger up the front of your body. “I will make you my wife.”

Goosebumps pebbled your skin as he teased you, taunted you, thrilled you with the edge of his blade. He never drew blood. It only grazed your shift. “I already am a Targaryen,” you proclaimed, voice strong despite its softness.

“I’m going to ruin you tonight and you will let me. Mother will have us wed by the turn of the new moon.” He tilted his dagger just slight, just enough, and the delicate material of your shift stood no chance against it. He sliced it open to reveal the fullness of your lovely body; your shape, your form, your clean floral scent… all of it made his mind feral. “Marry me, niece.”

A hundred–no, a thousand–things ran through your mind all at once. You saw and felt him already fully hard once again, and the hot press of his cock against your flushed skin had you losing sanity. “I will,” you breathed, nodding. “I will marry you.” 

Aemond tossed his dagger away to instead pull your smallclothes down your legs. “My darling betrothed,” he growled, shouldering off his tunic and undershirt as you lay completely bare beneath him. He didn’t even bother kicking his pants off the rest of the way before he moved between your spread thighs. “Let us promise our union now before any Gods that are watching.”

It was wrong. You knew it. And yet… Your heartbeat pounded in your ears and between your thighs. Madness. Surely this was madness. “We can’t,” you protested weakly.

He laughed another dark sound. “Targaryens are closer to Gods than men. We don’t follow the same rules as everyone else.” One of his hands moved over your breasts, sliding and squeezing over them with reverent affection. His other lowered between your legs and the tips of his fingers brushed over your budded pearl. He nearly snarled at the wetness he met there. He circled that bud. Slid over it. He worked your bundle of nerves, watching you all the while.

“A-Aemond!” You gasped, stuttering. Your nipples pebbled firmer as tension built in your belly, tightening in a way that only you were able to make happen. You needn’t any more convincing to give him your maidenhead. So wrong. But, with Aemond? So, so right. Your thighs spilled open wider for him; inviting him.

The rasp of his thighs pressed against the smooth undersides of your own and slowly, carefully, he lined himself up with your dripping entrance and began to press forward. 

Your body yielded and the fullness of him was a sensation unlike anything you’d experienced before. His heat seared into you as he sunk, cautiously, through your opening and past your body’s unmarred barrier. It pinched and you winced, blushed face staring up at him with doe eyes. 

Full. 

You were so full. 

You whimpered a little sound as Aemond’s jaw clenched and a groan rumbled deep in his chest. “You’re doing so well,” he mumbled, the intensity of his eye making you dizzy.

Finally, he was seated all the way inside you. With a heaving chest he held the position for a long moment, knowing you needed the time to adjust just as much as he did. He pulled back and eased back in, testing you. Testing himself. Fuck. He wasn’t going to last long. You were absolutely fucking perfect around him. You breathed his name again, gripping onto any part of his body that you could. 

Aemond’s movements became a little more sure with each moment. It didn’t take much longer until he was taking you fully. The softness of your breasts rocked with the motion of his thrusts, your face loosening as pleasure began to take over any pain there might have been. His greedy eye raked down the front of your body so he could watch where you were joined. Each time he pulled out his cock glistened with your slick, and each plunge sent you gasping at the pressure. Never had he seen anything that made his cock, and gut, and chest ache with such need. “You look so pretty with my cock inside you,” he said lowly, barely able to make words.

“Feels good, Aem,” you simpered in reply.

His mouth crashed to yours in a heavy kiss, licking into your mouth so your tongues slid against one another. The soft sound of skin slapping on skin began to grow louder as both of you worked into and against each other’s thrusts. “I’m going to mark that pretty little neck so that everyone knows your mine,” he rasped against your skin as he kissed over your chin, your jaw, until he reached your neck. He nipped there, biting harshly, kissing over each bite mark to soothe any lingering sting. He did it over and over, sucking the sensitive flesh into his mouth until he knew he’d leave a mark behind.

You trembled beneath him, squirming with pleasure, as he fucked into you at an angle and pace that had you soaring. The balance of pain and pleasure was more than anything you’d felt before and you were wholly at its mercy. You scratched his skin as you squeezed your fingers against his lean muscle, marking him as he marked you. “‘S too much,” you whined, breathless.

He only continued. Panting, he said, “I want to hear you scream my name when you come. Understood?”

You nodded, desperate. “Yes, yes yes yes..!” 

His pace grew sloppy, frenzied, as his own high threatened to push him over the edge any second. “Give it to me,” he moaned, pleaded. “Come with me.” One of his hands squeezed over your breast again, pinching and tugging the nipple, while the fingers of the other worked your clit. 

“Aemond!” You gasped thinly, covering your mouth just in time to muffle the scream that no doubt released with the intensity of your peak. Aemond’s mouth replaced your hand as climax took him, too, cock twitching as spurt after spurt of his seed filled the deepest parts of your body. You both rode it out together, senses buzzing and fuzzy, while the wonderful post-climax bliss sensations intoxicated you more than any wine. 

He carefully slid out from your body and nearly grew fucking hard again as he saw the evidence of your maidenhood upon your clean bedsheets. 

“You will be the loveliest bride,” he said, relishing the sight of you glowing from pleasure.

Pulling the top quilts back, you beckoned him in, asking, “stay awhile longer?”

He did.

You laid together, limp and blissful, and for the first time in over three years Aemond found himself fully sated.

-

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider a follow, and/or reblog, and/or letting me know as it all makes me vvvery happy! ♥

To be added or removed from the taglist, hit me up!

Masterlist

Main Taglist: @watercolorskyy @melsunshine @girlwith-thepearlearring @arcielee @barbiedragon @aemondtarqaryens @chompchompluke @fan-goddess @schniiipsel

Aemond Taglist: @darylandbethfanforever9 @bellaisasleep @aemondsblog @khaleesihel @sirenofavalon @doublesparrows @aemonds-fire @nikstrange @abbyandizzysmum @aemonddtargaryen @lost-and-founds @castellomargot @avidreader73 @snh96 @boofy1998 @connorsui

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond smut #aemond fic #aemond imagine #request

[mapsontheweb]

Indo European migrations by Bayesian phylogenetic analysis from Max Planck University.

Language trees with sampled ancestors support a hybrid model for the origin of Indo-European languages

Languages of the Indo-European family are spoken by almost half of the world’s population, but their origins and patterns of spread are disputed. Heggarty et al. present a database of 109 modern and 52 time-calibrated historical Indo-European languages, which they analyzed with models of Bayesian phylogenetic inference. Their results suggest an emergence of Indo-European languages around 8000 years before present. This is a deeper root date than previously thought, and it fits with an initial origin south of the Caucasus followed by a branch northward into the Steppe region. These findings lead to a “hybrid hypothesis” that reconciles current linguistic and ancient DNA evidence from both the eastern Fertile Crescent (as a primary source) and the steppe (as a secondary homeland). —SNV

#maps #languages #migration

[simply-whump]

Exhuma (파묘) - Whump List

Whumpee : Yoon Bong Gil played by Lee Do Hyun

Synopsis : After suffering from serial paranormal events, a wealthy family summons a young rising shaman duo Hwa Rim and Bong Gil to save the newborn of the family. A dark shadow of their ancestor has latched on the family in a so-called 'Grave Calling'. In order to exhume the grave and relieve the ancestor, Hwa Rim seeks help from top-notch geomancer Sang Deok and mortician Yeong Geun. To their dismay, the four find the grave at a shady location in a remote village in Korea. Unaware of the consequences, the exhumation is carried out, unleashing a malevolent force buried underneath. (MDL)

Genres : Thriller, Mystery, Horror, Supernatural

Warning! Possible spoilers below!

Yoon Bong Gil

(52:00) - Possessed by an old spirit (on purpose), sweating, held back, vomiting blood, back to himself, heavy breathing

(01:17:30) - Stepped on, sweating, having a “nightmare”

(01:23:53) - Steps in front of a monster to protect someone, head grabbed and squeezed, weak, monster digs his hand into his body, collapses, bleeding out, spitting blood, dying, concern for him

(01:27:55) - In surgery, concern for him, doctor says he lost a lot of blood, has damaged organs and spine

(01:32:35) - Unconscious in hospital bed

(01:34:05) - Ritual performed, talking while possessed, sweating 

(01:43:40) - Still unconscious in hospital bed, agitated, concern for him, wound treated

(01:53:42) - Possessed, eyes bloodshot 

(01:59:40) - Still possessed, screaming in pain

(02:02:50) - Spitting a lot of blood

(02:04:30) - Finally freed from the possession, exhausted 

(02:06:24) - Walking with a crutch

>> More Whump Lists

#exhuma #whump list #asian whump #whump #korean movie #lee do hyun

[bethanythebogwitch]

I haven't talked reptiles in Wet Beast Wednesday in a while (and the first time I did it got like 9 notes) so I'll do it again with marine iguanas. Admittedly they're more amphibious than aquatic, but there's no Moist Beast Monday and I think they're cool so it'll have to do.

(Image: Doug Jones in The Shape of Water a marine iguana basking on a rock)

Marine iguanas (Amblyrhynchus cristatus) are large lizards native to the Galapagos Islands. They are unique for being the only extant lizards that spend time in the ocean. As of 2017, there are 11 distinct subspecies that are isolated from each other by the islands they live on. Occasionally a member of one subspecies will end up on the wrong island and produce hybrid offspring. Marine iguanas also can but very rarely do hybridize with the land iguanas of the Galapagos, with whom they are believed to share a common ancestor.

(Image: an iguana perched on a rock

Marine iguanas vary in size based on subspecies, with those from smaller islands reaching a smaller adult size. In general, they race from 12 to 56 cm (4.7 - 22 in) from snout to rear, with a tail ranging from 17 to 84 cm (6.7 - 33.1 in). Males are significantly larger than females, up to twice the weight and noticeably longer. Marine iguanas are robust, with relatively short limbs. Their leg bones are heavy, to provide ballast while swimming. Their tails are laterally flattened and provide propulsion for swimming. They have a row of spines down their backs that provide stability while swimming, similar to a fish's dorsal fin. Their feet have powerful claws and can be used to cling onto and push off of undersea rocks. Marine iguanas were noted by many explorers for their dark color, including Charles Darwin (who referred to them as "clumsy" and "disgusting"). This dark color helps them warm up quickly after diving in the sea.

(image: an iguana going for a swim)

A major feature of the marine iguana is its diet, which is a huge factor in their semiaquatic lifestyle. They feed almost exclusively on green and red algae that grown underwater. To reach the algae, females and smaller males browse the intertidal zone during low tide, while larger males and abnormally large females can swim out to the deeper subtidal zone to forage. They can spend an hour underwater one one breath and dive to 30 m (98 ft), but most dives are much shallower and shorter. Only the largest males swim offshore and dive to significant depths for their food. Because they are positively buoyant, divers must actively swim or cling onto rocks to stay underwater. Most individuals will return to the same spot for feeding and competition over feeding spots have been known to happen. Larger males that swim out for their food have the advantage of less competition for their feeding spots. The species has adapted to be able to fast or subsist on reduced for long periods. During El Nińo, where food supplies can be reduced for years, they will actually shrink, with even their bones getting shorter, then return to full size once the food supply is restored. Because they consume excess salt with their food, marine iguanas have developed the ability to filter the salt out of their blood and expel it through glands in their nostrils. The secreted salt can then be sneezed away. Juveliles spend the first few months of their life feeding on (WARNING: GROSS) the feces of older iguanas. This helps them develop the culture of symbiotic gut bacteria that helps them digest algae. In fact, their digestive systems are so specialized to algae that they can't switch diets.

(image: a marine iguana grazing on algae underwater)

As ectotherms (cold-blooded animals), marine iguanas need to keep themselves warm to survive. The water around the Galapagos is typically around 11-23 degrees C (52-75 F) while their preferred body temp is 35-39 C (95-102 F). This high preferred temperature helps with their digestion. To keep themselves warm, the iguanas spend a lot of their time basking in the sun, especially after swimming. They can also reduce their heart beats while cold to help prevent heat loss. Basking iguanas can cover large beaches. They live in colonies that usually range between 20 and 500 individuals but can sometimes get up to 1000 members. Their biomass to area ratio can be the highest of any reptile. While they are considered gregarious, they display no social behavior such a grooming. The closest they get to a group activity is sleeping next to each other to conserve heat at night. They also get along with other species, such as Darwin's finches, mockingbirds, and crabs who will pick parasites off their skin. Divers may allow cleaner fish to pick off bits of dead skin. Another lizard, the lava lizard, likes to visit colonies to hunt flies attracted to the iguanas. The iguanas allow the much smaller lizards to climb all over them. Marine iguanas often share beaches with Galapagos sea lions, who will occasionally allow the iguanas to climb over them.

(image: a group of iguanas basking together)

(image: a male marine iguana, identifiable by the rough scales on his head, with a lava lizard climbing on him)

During mating season, male iguanas stop being as chill with their neighbors, attempting to establish a territory and push other males out. They also change from their normal dark appearance to a much brighter coloration. Territories are usually bordered by rocks or crevasses and can be found next to each other in groups. Males will attempt to attract females to their territories while fighting other males to get access to their females. This behavior is called lekking. Females show a distinct preference for larger males and it is the largest males that are most successful at maintaining territories. Medium males are forced to patrol the edges of territories to try to pick up mates while small males often pretend to be female to sneak into another's territory and attempt to mate. Males with territories defend them with special displays where they will raise their dorsal spines and open their mouths while bobbing their heads around. If another male challenges the dominant, they will display at each other. If neither submits, a fight will start. Males fight by headbutting and trying to push each other around. These fights can last for hours and the participants will occasionally take breaks. In most cases, one will eventually display a submissive posture and retreat, though in a few cases the fight has escalated to biting and scratching. When courting a female, a male will nod at her and approach in a sideways walk. Smaller males without territories may also try mating forcibly. Females only mate once per year and will signal rejection to additional suitors by nodding at them.

(image: a male performing a territorial display)

(image: two males headbutting each other in a territorial battle)

Mating season usually lasts between December and March. Females will lay eggs about a month after mating. The eggs (usually 2 to 3 but sometimes up to 6) can collectively weigh up to a quarter of the mother's weight, which is very large for an iguana. They are laid well above the tide line and buried in sand or soil. In places with few good nesting sites, mothers will guard their eggs after hatching to make sure other females don't dig therm up to steal the spot. When females fight over nesting spots they are less disciplined than males and will quickly resort to biting. The eggs hatch after 3-4 months. Females reach sexual maturity after 3-5 years while males do so after 6-8 years. They live an average lifespan of 12 years, but can live up to 60.

(image: a female iguana digging her nest)

(image: a group of juveniles climbing on each other)

Marine iguanas are classified as vulnerable by the IUCN, while a few populations are instead considered endangered. A major threat to them is warming seas, which can reduce the red and green algae populations and replace them with inedible brown algae, leading to starvation. Marine iguanas only have a few predators and most of them target juveniles or small adults. As a result, the adults demonstrate island tameness, a lack of wariness to potential predators. This has left them vulnerable to predators introduced by humans, such as dogs, cats, rats, and pigs. Despite these invasive predators being present for ver 100 years, they have not developed any anti-predator defenses against them, a phenomenon called ecological naïveté. They also do not fear humans and will allow tourists to approach them, which has led to injuries and the spread of human-introduced diseases. They are protected by laws of Ecuador and most of their range is in protected areas. Efforts to remove invasive predators have seen some benefit. They are difficult to keep in captivity due to their specialized diets, and they have never been bred in captivity.

(image: a male with his bright mating season coloration)

#wet beast wednesday #marine iguana #biology #zoology #ecology #marine biology #galapagos #animal facts #iguana #lizard #reptile #long post

[love-me-a-lotta-whump]

파묘 - Exhuma (2024) - Whump List - 🇰🇷

Whumpee: 윤봉길 (Yoon Bong Gil) played by 이도현 (Lee Do Hyun)

Synopsis: A wealthy family living in LA summons a young rising shaman duo Hwa Rim and Bong Gil to save the newborn of the family. Once they arrive, Hwa Rim senses a dark shadow of their ancestor has latched on the family in a so-called 'Grave Calling'. To their dismay, they find the grave at a shady location in a remote village in Korea. Unaware of the consequences, the exhumation is carried out, unleashing a malevolent force buried underneath. (MDL)

Genre/Tags: Supernatural, Thriller, Horror

Watch On: Watchseries.im

Note: I had difficulty watching the whole thing (technical difficulties, yay! 🙃) so the time stamps are at the minute, not the second. However if you’d like it down to the second, feel free to check out the list made by @simply-whump (LINK)

🧡: HUGE thank you to @need-a-beating for letting me know where to find the movie!!!

WARNING: POSSIBLE SPOILERS BELOW

52:00 - restrained (rope), intentional/controlled possession, sweating, puking up blood

53:00 - coughing up blood, heavy breathing, sweating

1:17:00 - (nightmare: restless, stepped on) woke up startled

1:23:00 - protecting someone, grabbed by a monster, head squeezed, concern for him, growing weaker, monster impales him with its fist, concern for him, released, collapsed, out of it, concern for him

1:26:00 - laying on the ground barely conscious, coughing up blood, bleeding out, coughing up blood, concern for him

1:30:00 - doctor tells loved ones his organs and spine were damaged and he’d lost a lot of blood

1:32:00 - unconscious in the hospital, sweaty, looked after, concern for him

1:34:00 - possessed, sweaty

1:43:00 - seizing, concern for him, wound treated, very sweaty

1:53:00 - possessed, bloodshot eyes

1:59:00 - still possessed, in pain, burning

2:02:00 - coughing up blood, writhing

2:04:00 - covered in blood, concern for him, single tear rolling down his cheek

2:06:00 - walking on a crutch

———+———

MORE WHUMP LISTS >>> {x}

#whump #asian whump #whump list #whumplist #asianwhump #kwhump #kmovie #Exhuma #파묘

[at1nys-blog]

Next Door -Masterlist-

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x fem!reader

Summary: When you try to save your friends from bad press (your father's opinion on them) ending up having to find a way to survive it turns different than what you expected, but along the way there are your best friends, new friends and a very annoying gym bro that lives just Next Door

Started: 21/12/2023

Finished: scheduled to end 25/08/2024

Trope: Enemies to lovers

Status: 【Not Started yet】 【Ongoing】 【Finished】

Updates: twice a week 11:30 pm CET

A/N: THIS WAS POSTED FIRST ON MY AO3 ACCOUNT SO MY GOOD FRIEND COULD READ IT TOO AND BECAUSE I WANTED TO TRY SMAU IN THERE and now I can stop screaming. By the way, I waited to posted it on here because I didn't know if I was going to commit or what, so after 14/15 chapters I think I am committed enough. I have to apologize for future typos but I am too lazy to correct and screenshot everything once again lol

Vol.0

Ch.1: Vol.0 Ch.1- Profile 1

Ch.2: Vol.0 Ch.2- Profile 2

Ch.3: Vol.0 Ch.3- Kicked Out…

Ch.4: Vol.0 Ch.4- Kids…

Vol.1

Ch.5: Vol.1 Ch.5- Less pictures

Ch.6: Vol.1 Ch.6- ON MY ANCESTOR

Ch.7: Vol.1 Ch.7- Annoying Rich People

Ch.8: Vol.1 Ch.8-Karma is a Bitch

Vol.2

Ch.9: Vol.2 Ch.9-Luffy is a kid

Ch.10: Vol.2 Ch.10-Proposal

Ch.11: Vol.2 Ch.11- Sabo...

Ch.12: Vol.2 Ch.12- I wasn’t lying

Vol.3

Ch.13: Vol.3 Ch.13- Zoro would never be funny

Ch.14: Vol.3 Ch.14- A weird one

Ch.15: Vol.3 Ch.15- You love me

Ch.16: Vol.3 Ch.16- Turning point

Vol.4

Ch.17: Vol.4 Ch.17- @yasUsopp you are dead

Ch.18: Vol.4 Ch.18- Drunk you

Ch.19: Vol.4 Ch.19- In vino veritas

Ch.20: Vol.4 Ch.20- Is that punk boy?

Vol.5

Ch.21: Vol.5 Ch.21- You are missing

Ch.22: Vol.5 Ch.22- There is no way

Ch.23: Vol.5 Ch.23- Plan in action

Ch.24: Vol.5 Ch24- Bartolomeo the black sheep

Vol.6

Ch.25: Vol.6 Ch.25- Good Taste

Ch.26: Vol.6 Ch.26- Day out

Ch.27: Vol.6 Ch.27- ******* *********

Ch.28: Vol.6 Ch.28- **** ******

Vol.7

Ch.29: Vol.7 Ch.29- **** *** *************

Ch.30: Vol.7 Ch.30- ****** ****

Ch.31: Vol.7 Ch.31- *** **** ***

Ch.32: Vol.7 Ch.32-***

Vol.8

Ch.33: Vol.8 Ch.33- ** ** ***

Ch.34: Vol.8 Ch.34- ******

Ch.35: Vol.8 Ch.35-** *** *** *******

Ch.36: Vol.8 Ch.36- *** ***** **** ** ***** **** ***

Vol.9

Ch.37: Vol.9 Ch.37-***** *** *********** *

Ch.38: Vol.9 Ch.38- ** **** *********

Ch.39: Vol.9 Ch.39- *** ******* ** ****

Ch.40: Vol.9 Ch.40-*** ****

Vol.10

Ch.41: Vol.10 Ch.41- *** * *****

Ch.42: Vol.10 Ch.42- ****************

Ch.43: Vol.10 Ch.43- ***** ****** ******* ****

Ch.44: Vol.10 Ch.44- ****** ******* **

Vol.11

Ch.45: Vol.11 Ch.45-**** *** *** ******

Ch.46: Vol.11 Ch.46-** ******

Ch.47: Vol.11 Ch.47- ** ****** ****** ******* * *** **** ****

Ch.48: Vol.11 Ch.48- ***** ***

Vol.12

Ch.49: Vol.12 Ch.49-*** **** * ******

Ch.50: Vol12. Ch.50- ***** ********

Ch.51: Vol.12 Ch.51- **** ********

Ch.52: Vol.12 Ch.52- ******* *****

Vol.13

Ch.53: Vol.13 Ch.53- ****** **/****** ***

Ch.54: Vol.13 Ch.54- ***** *** ** ****

Ch.55: Vol.13 Ch.55- ******** ****

Ch.56: Vol.13 Ch.56- **** ********

Vol.14

Ch.57: Vol.14 Ch.57- * ********* ***

Ch.58: Vol.14 Ch.58- ****** ****

Ch.59: Vol.14 Ch.59- ****** ***

Ch.60: Vol.14 Ch.60- ******** *

#NEXT DOOR #NEXT DOOR MASTERLIST #one piece #one piece manga #one piece anime #one piece fanfiction #one piece fanfic #one piece ff #one piece smau #one piece monkey d luffy #one piece roronoa zoro #one piece nami #one piece usopp #one piece sanji #one piece chopper #one piece robin #one piece franky #one piece jimbei #one piece eustass kid #zoro fanfiction #zoro fanfic #zoro ff #zoro smau #zoro social meadia au #zoro x yn #zoro x y/n #zoro x you #zoro x female reader #zoro x reader

[thelostgirl21]

That moment you realize that, technically, Radovid is more of "elven blood" than Ciri herself is...

I've also noticed that Radovid would never have been Prince, much less King, if it wasn't for Falka's rebellion.

Since I didn't put all the children's names in the family tree (only those that inherited the throne), basically, what happened is that Radovid III and Vizimir I were brothers, and Radovid III inherited the throne after their father, Radovid II, was lost at sea.

When Radovid III died of meningitis at age 49, his son, Vridank, became King.

King Vridank had a daughter, named Falka, with Beatrix of Kovir, but divorced her when he fell in love with Cerro, and sent her and their daughter back to Kovir.

King Vridank and Cerro then had two sons together:

- Prince Heltmult, and

- Prince Denhard.

They also adopted Riannon, the daughter of Lara Dorren and Cregennan of Lod (Ciri's ancestors).

So, normally, after King Vridank's death, Prince Heltmult or Prince Denhard should have inherited the throne (depending on which one was the eldest).

But Falka murdered her father, Queen Cerro, and the two princes during her rebellion, and caused Riannon to go mad (plus, she was already married to the King of Temeria at the time).

So, the still living uncle of King Vridank, Vizimir I, inherited the throne from his nephew at age 52, and went on to rule until he was 96!

And King Vizimir I is the ruler that Vizimir II and Radovid V both descend from.

Then, there's also the whole story with their father, King Heribert, having chosen to marry a noblewoman against his father's wishes, with the clerk having documented the union as a morganatic marriage.

So technically, had that note on the marriage documents been respected, Prince Vizimir II and Prince Radovid V should never have been allowed to inherit the throne...

But their mother apparently did something to that note to make it look like it was just some scribble on an old dusty document or something...

I don't know if either princes were ever told of it, though.

Could you imagine Radovid finding out, and showing up with the documents proving that his father and mother's morganatic marriage was meant to prevent any child of hers from inheriting anything from their father and going "Sorry! According to this I can't be king! Bye everyone! I'm out!"

#Radovid #Jaskier #Radskier #Ciri #Cirilla of Cintra #Redanian monarchy family tree #With part of Ciri's as well... #Prince Heribert: Imma marry a noblewoman! I don't care what dad says I don't want a political marriage I wanna marry for LOOOVE #(or maybe because she had nice tits! I dunno!) #King Radovid V: Imma marry a viscount! I know he's a man but fuck it! I'm the King I make the rules and I wanna marry for LOOOVE... #(and also he's got really nice tits! You know?) #My Posts #My Stuff #Except for that last gif that I've shamelessly borrowed but it's for a good cause! #Thanks #endiness #(Seriously at some point I think I'll just get on your blog and massively reblog all those sets they're awesome!)

[geneajournals]

My Genealogy Document Processing Steps

We have all downloaded documents in haste only to repent at leisure. The lure of free access to genealogical records for a short period of time, such as a weekend, is irresistible. The urge to maximize the free period leads us to download files in a frenzy. After the weekend is over the amount of files in your download folder is usually overwhelming. In order to bring order to my life, I developed the following steps to process downloaded documents. Zotero is the reference management tool that I use in conjunction with my genealogy software.

The example I am using is a deed for Aaron Guice (1835-1917) found by using the FamilySearch full-text search product.

Step 1: Review the document. Review the record image to see where the document starts and ends. This deed begins at the bottom of page 529,

continues on page 530. and ends half-way down the page.

Step 2: Download the digital image(s). The record image is downloaded to the appropriate file folder on my computer.

Step 3: Name the digital file. My naming standard is SURNAME_Given Name-MARRIED SURNAME-YYYY-MM-DD-What-Where-Platform. The digital file names can be seen in Step 7. Since there are several Aarons with the surname Guice, the RIN number is included in the file name.

Step 4: Obtain the FamilySearch film number. On the FamilySearch record image screen click on the “Group Data” tab located at the top of the Full Transcript panel. This will give the image group data including the FamilySearch digital file number.

Step 5: Set up the Zotero Info tab. Set up a Zotero item in the appropriate Zotero file. Enter the relevant information, including the URL, DGS file number and image number(s).

Step 6: Link the digital file(s) to the Zotero item.

Step 7: Zotero Notes tab. Copy and paste the AI transcript into a note. The citation will go into a separate note.

Zotero item showing attached notes and linked digital files.

Step 8: Set up Zotero Tags. Set up tags to aid with searching for items in the collection.

Step 9: Zotero Related items. Link related items from other files in my Zotero collection.

I used this tab to link the previously entered item for my 4 March 2024 blog post on the deed transcription. Also listed are items for the deed index and the digitized deed register.

Step 10: Transcribe the document.

Since I started using Zotero and following these basic steps I have found it easy to keep track of my family research.

#52 ancestors #family history

[entryn17]

📺 factsappreciator39 follow

did you guys hear about the time traveler that appeared in connecticut?? apparently it's something to do with stopping the end of the world but i'm skeptical..

🕸 charlotteswebring follow

why is it that when something otherworldly appears it's always in the US?? you'll never hear about a UFO sighting in the serbian capital for example 😪

( 52 notes )

🌊 lostinthevvaves

since we learned time travel is possible then we're probably doomed to send that guy back over and over. have none of you guys heard of a causality loop???

( 80 notes ) #mel speaks

🪱 krillorbekrilled follow

ate 3 week old oysters from the fridge i thinfk a homo erectus (LOL) ancestor is thrying to colmmunicate with me;

( 2 notes )

💫 physicsblr-official

if time is defined by the progression of events or increase of entropy and you're completely frozen (to the point no bodily processes occur and every particle you're made of stops moving (i.e. your temperature is absolute zero)) but events and processes continue happening around you, when you wake up would you still be the age before you got frozen? or would it be relative to how others saw you even if you were essentially static

( 16 notes ) #physics #studyblr #quantum physics

💫 physicsblr-official

time traveler looks so find

( 578 notes )

#unreality #got really bad deja vu when writing this post

[tessa-liam]

Marabelle

It’s A Dream Come True

– Chapter 7

Choices – The Royal Romance, AU

Series Premise – An American teenager from New York City is introduced to the world of a small European country and its society of royalty, nobility, and commoners. How will her life story be transformed? Will this new adventure bring her happiness...or regret?

Marabelle Series Masterlist

Main Pairing – Prince Liam Rys x F!OC Sophia (Sophie) Taylor

Other Pairings – Maxwell Beaumont x M!OC Daniel (from NYC), Drake Walker x F!OC Melanie Smithson

Most characters belong to Pixelberry.

Series Rating – M*🔞Warnings: this series will have NSFW material, crude language & innuendo.

Not Beta’d - Please excuse all errors.

Category – Alternate universe/on-going series/angst/fluff

Words: 2393

It’s A Dream Come True

Chapter 7

Chapter Summary – It’s the evening of the Masquerade Ball. Bertrand and Maxwell formally introduce Sophie to King Constantine as Lady Sophia of House Beaumont and officially joins the court as a noblewoman. Prince Liam and Sophie spend more time together and reach a milestone.

Music Inspiration:

When You Walk in the Room, Sanne Saomonse

A/N1: Bethany Beaumont, Maxwell’s mother, is originally from the U.S. and is Barthelemy Beaumont’s second wife. Annabelle Beaumont (deceased) is Bertrand’s mother.

A/N2: ‘Social Season’ in this AU series refers to a traditional period in the spring/summer for royalty and members of the court to take part in Balls, dinner parties and charity events.

A/N3: My submission for Choices Flashfics @choicesflashfics, Week #52, prompt 3 - “Well...that was/this is unexpected.”

A/N4: My submission for @choicesseptemberchallenge2023, @midnightmelodiz, Day 4 – Dreams, Day Dream, “I’m in love with you!”

It’s A Dream Come True

Royal Gym, Cordonian Palace

In the heart of the palace, Liam and Drake were in the midst of an intense workout session. The Royal gymnasium was within an imposing chamber with high, vaulted ceilings, adorned with paintings of legendary battles and noble ancestors.

Liam adjusted the weights on the bench press and began to lift, his muscles straining against the resistance. Drake, spotting him, supplied encouragement.

“You’ve got this, Li! Remember, every rep gets you one step closer to looking dashing in that masquerade outfit.” Drake chortled with a grin.

Liam chuckled, grateful for Drake’s support. “I don’t know how I’d manage this without you, my friend. It’s not just about looking good at the ball, though. I want everything to be perfect for Sophie. This is a big night for her.”

Drake nodded, understanding all too well the pomp and circumstance of court events.

“Yeah, I feel you, buddy. Melanie has been talking about this ball non-stop. It’s like the Super Bowl of fancy parties, and I am determined not to embarrass her.”

Their conversation paused momentarily as they continued their workout, their thoughts on their respective relationships. While Drake thought about Melanie and their commitment to each other, Liam’s thoughts went back to his conversation with Sophie after the garden party.

‘Sophie, I’m glad you could make it.’

'Thank you for inviting me, Liam.’

'I hope you don’t mind my asking, but is everything all right? You seemed a little ... disturbed earlier.’

‘I must admit, running into your chest was not exactly how I envisioned starting a conversation today.’

'Nor I, but it was a pleasant surprise nonetheless.’

Sophie opened up about the events that had troubled her that day. She spoke about the pressures of court and the weight of expectations, and her encounter with Madeleine.

Liam knew and understood that the palace and the court can be overwhelming; even at times, for himself. He found that they had ‘common ground in unexpected places.’

This was why he was determined to get to know her better. He felt a connection with her and a shared understanding that went beyond their titles. Liam wanted to find out everything about her.

After finishing their sets, they retreated to the terrace to grab water bottles and fresh fruit. Liam sat down with a towel and wiped sweat from his brow. “Have you chosen your mask for the ball yet?” he asked Drake.

Drake scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Not yet, but I’ve been thinking something mysterious and intriguing. Melanie loves a good mystery, so I want to keep her guessing all night.”

Liam grinned. “All night, Drake? Really?”

“Yeah, maybe not all night,” Drake winked with a grin. Liam laughed taking a swig of water.

The Masquerade Ball

“Awe, Sophie... look at you!” 

Maxwell blurted excitedly, as he twirled her around to appreciate her gorgeous red ball gown.

Sophie blushed at Maxwell’s enthusiastic compliment, feeling a warm flutter of happiness in her chest. Her ball gown, with its intricate lace details and flowing skirt, had taken her hours to choose with Aunt Bethany, but it was worth it to see the delight in Maxwell’s eyes.

“Thank you, Max,” she replied, her voice soft and touched by his admiration. “You don't look too shabby yourself in that dashing suit.”

Maxwell chuckled and gave her a playful wink. “Well, I had to step up my game to match your elegance tonight. Wait until Liam sees you, little blossom,” he teased.

“Are we ready?” Bertrand inquired, stepping beside Sophie and his brother, offering his arm for her to take.

As Sophie slipped her arms with her cousins, Maxwell exclaimed, “let’s do this.”

The doors to the grand ballroom are opened, and the herald announces,

“Lady Sophia Taylor of House Beaumont, accompanied by Duke Bertrand Beaumont of Ramsford with Lord Maxwell Beaumont of House Beaumont.”

The Introductions continued, as each noble or noble couple made their entrance into the ballroom.

King Constantine and Queen Regina, seated on the raised dais, exchanged polite greetings and nods with each noble as they were presented, their regal presence commanding respect and admiration from all in attendance.

As Sophie, Bertrand, and Maxwell approached the royal dais, Sophie executed a graceful curtsy, her gown billowing elegantly as she lowered herself before the King and Queen.

Bertrand and Maxwell, the brothers by her side, performed deep and respectful bows.

King Constantine and Queen Regina acknowledged their gestures with warm smiles and nods of appreciation.

Prince Liam, who was standing to the right of the dais, could not help but smile as he caught Sophie’s eye after she had finished her graceful curtsy as she moved towards him. His smile was warm and friendly, a silent greeting that conveyed his pleasure at seeing her once again.

"My lady, you are a vision of beauty."

Sophie, her cheeks tinged with a subtle blush from his attention, returned Liam’s smile with a gentle one of her own. It was a small, private moment amidst the grandeur of the ballroom, but it spoke volumes of their connection and friendship in the midst of the royal event.

A soft gasp escaped her lips as he gently lifted her hand and pressed a tender kiss to it. Her heart fluttered at his chivalrous act, as she felt a rush of warmth and attraction towards him.

With a charming smile, Liam offered his arm to Sophie in invitation to join him in the ballroom. She gracefully accepted, her hand resting delicately on his arm as they entered the grand hall together, the music and festivities swirling around them.

Melanie, watching the pair stroll into the ballroom, could not take her eyes off them. Their presence captivated her completely.

“Do you want another drink, Mel?” Drake asked, trying to get her attention. His voice broke through Melanie’s trance, and she turned to look at him, momentarily torn between her fascination with Liam and Sophie and the offer of another drink.

“Oh, uh, yeah, sure,” Melanie replied, her gaze reluctantly leaving the couple as she refocused on Drake. “Thanks, Drake.”

As Drake shook his head and started to walk to the bar, Melanie could not help but steal another glance at the couple now across the room. Liam and Sophie looked so comfortable together, their laughter heard from across the hall. It was hard for Melanie to ignore the pang of jealousy that tugged at her heart.

Drake returned with a fresh drink in hand, offering it to Melanie with a warm smile.

“Everything okay?” he asked, concern clear in his eyes.

Melanie forced a smile, trying to shake off her feelings of longing. “Yeah, just lost in thought, I guess. Thanks for the drink, babe.”

He nodded understandingly, his stare lingering on her for a moment longer before he turned to talk with his sister, Savannah. Melanie took a sip of her drink, determined to enjoy the evening despite the twinge of heartache.

Melanie watched as Liam gracefully guided Sophie across the ballroom floor, their waltz a mesmerizing display of elegance. The couple moved with such synchronized grace that it seemed as if they were the only two people in the room. She could not help but feel a pang of envy at their obvious connection.

As they waltzed towards the French doors and stepped out onto the balcony, Melanie’s curiosity got the best of her. She decided to follow discreetly, making her way through the crowd and out onto the balcony as well. The cool night air greeted her, and she saw Liam and Sophie standing at the balcony railing, gazing out at the garden maze.

From her vantage point, Melanie could see the intricate pathways of the garden maze lit by soft, romantic lighting, when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

Startled, Melanie turned to see a royal guard standing behind her. She immediately straightened up and offered a polite smile.

“I’m sorry,” she said apologetically. “I didn't realize. I was just admiring the view.”

The royal guard nodded, his expression stern but professional. “I understand, Miss, but for security reasons, we need to keep this area clear. I’ll have to ask you to return to the main ballroom.”

Melanie nodded in understanding. “Of course, I didn’t mean to intrude. Thank you for letting me know.”  She turned to leave the balcony, casting one last glance at Liam and Sophie, but they were no longer there.

The Garden Maze

Sophie’s laughter echoed through the hedges as she darted around corners. Her gown billowing behind her. The scent of blooming flowers filled the air, and the distant sound of music from the palace mingled with the symphony of nature. Liam pursued her with playful determination, his eyes alight with mischief as he turned a corner.

He found Sophie, cheeks flushed with eyes sparkling, standing at a small clearing where a stone bench rested beneath a canopy of Ivy. Sophie, breathless but with an impish grin hiked up her gown, revealing her shapely legs and slipped off her heels.

“A lady must do what a lady must do,” she declared, her voice teasing. Liam couldn't help but chuckle, charmed by Sophie’s unpretentious spirit. He approached slowly, allowing himself to savor the moment.

“Well, this is unexpected,” Liam remarked, his voice laced with amusement.

Sophie's eyes twinkled mischievously. “You didn't think I let you catch me so easily, did you?”

Liam shook his head, feigning innocence. "Of course not. I just did not expect you to resort to such …  tactics.”

With a playful glint in her eyes. Sophie stepped closer. “Desperate times call for desperate measures, don't they?” She winked.

Their continued banter dissolved into shared laughter, filling the garden with an infectious joy. Liam took a step closer, his fingers lightly brushing against Sophie's as he reached for her.

“Well then, Lady Sophie, I shall have to employ my own tactics.”

As if in response, Sophie took a step back, her eyes dancing with anticipation.

“And what tactics might those be?”

With a sly smile, Liam lunged forward, but Sophie was quicker than he anticipated. She dodged his outstretched hand with a graceful pirouette, her laughter ringing out like a sweet melody.

 Their game of tag continued, each chase and evasion bringing them closer together, the connection between them growing stronger with every shared moment. The palace seemed a distant world, forgotten in the enchantment of their own private garden.

They finally paused, breathless, and flushed from their game of tag.

Liam’s gaze met Sophie's, and in that moment, the world seemed to fade away leaving only the two of them.

Their newfound love, unspoken yet palpable, hung in the air like fragrance of the surrounding flowers. It was a love that was blossoming amidst the twists and turns of the garden maze, a love that had taken root in their hearts.

Without a word, Liam took a step closer, his hand gently cupping Sophie’s cheek. She leaned into his touch, her eyes fluttering closed. Their lips met in a tender, unhurried kiss. Sophie's blue eyes met his as Liam wrapped his other hand around her waist to pull her closer. Their lips met again, this time with an urgency as Liam deepened the kiss; his tongue searching hers.

Beaumont Estate

It was early morning when Sophie awoke in her bedroom at House Beaumont. The dreams she had experienced that night were like fragments of a beautiful story unfolding into reality.

As the soft light filtered through the gauzy curtains, Sophie could not help but smile. She lay in bed, the memories of her adventures with Liam in the garden maze still fresh in her mind. The way he chased her, the laughter they had shared, and the kisses that had ignited a fire within her heart.

With a contented sigh, she pushed back the covers and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She couldn’t linger in bed all day, no matter how tempting it was to stay in bed with her daydreams. ...but she knew Marabelle was waiting for her morning ride.

Sophie picked up a brush and began to brush her long, chestnut hair. Her reflection in the mirror seemed different now – happier, more alive. She remembered the laughter they had shared, the way Liam’s eyes sparkled when he looked at her, and the warmth of his embrace. In her thoughts...Liam, I think, I’m in love with you!

📌@ao719 @txemrn @queenmiarys @sfb123 @twinkleallnight @alj4890 @differenttyphoonwerewolf @harleybeaumont @busywoman @karahalloway @kingliam2019 @imjusthereforliam @lovingchoices14 @kyra75 @tinkie1973 @emkay512 @malblk21 @kristinamae093 @charlotteg234 @irisk12 @walkerdrakewalker @choicesficwriterscreations @midnightmelodiz

#liam rys #prince liam #tessa liam writes #the royal romance #trr #trr fanfic #choices the royal romance #choicesflashfics #choices monthly challenge #cfwc fics of the week #marabelle #sophie taylor

[just-late-roman-republic-things]

Servilia's ancestors appear to be gold-stealing brainless fuckboys on her father's side and...whatever this is...on her mother's:

Servilia and Her Family, Susan Treggiari, p. 52

#jlrrt reads #servilia #servilia and her family #susan treggiari #marcus livius drusus #quintus servilius caepio

[piizunn]

not your founding father (mouthpiece)

My thoughts on Louis Riel being named first premier of Manitoba.

Taanshi kiyawow, Riel dishinikashoon. I descend maternally from seven Métis families from the historic Red River Settlement in Manitoba and Batoche, Saskatchewan. Notably, my Berthelett ancestors worked for the North West Company and were community leaders in the Métis settlement of Pointe a Grouette before it was systemically overtaken by French settlers who claim we formed no roots in the area (St. Onge). My Caron ancestors from Batoche fought in the North West Resistance alongside Louis Riel and Gabriel Dumont. My fifth-great-uncle Jean Caron Sr. fought alongside his sons at the age of 52; his house still stands in Batoche to this day, where thousands of Métis make pilgrimages every year to remember the events of 1885. 

What do you know about Louis Riel?

I can only read his words and imagine what guidance he would have provided had he lived longer than 41 years. Or imagine myself in his place as he walked to the gallows on November 16th, 1885. As a child when I visited Manitoba my grandpa and my kokum would take me to visit his grave, just as they did with my mother, who named me ‘Riel’.

We are inextricably linked through time and across our homelands. What’s in a name? Unasked for? Not yet earned? I do not yet know who I am to my people but I carry an important name and the trickster’s spirit, and with these comes the responsibility of understanding and revealing cultural and societal truths (Stimson).

I am still growing into my name

Today I am a mouthpiece

An interpreter of the past

What do you know about the trial of Louis Riel?

July 31st, 1885, Riel gives his final speech. Historical weather data shows that it was a hot day in Regina. Cooler than the days before but still hot with the swelter of the plains. He spoke long, in English, not the language of his birth.

“The day of my birth I was helpless and my mother took care of me although she was not able to do it alone; there was someone to help her to take care of me and I lived. Today, although a man, I am as helpless before this court, in the Dominion of Canada and in this world, as I was helpless on the knees of my mother the day of my birth. The Northwest is also my mother; it is my mother country and although my mother country is sick and confirmed in a certain way, there are some from Lower Canada who came to help her to take care of me during her sickness and I am sure that my mother country will not kill me more than my mother did forty years ago when I came into the world, because a mother is always a mother, and even if I have my faults, if she can see I am true, she will be full of love for me.”

“When I came into the Northwest in July, the 1st of July 1884, I found the Indians suffering. I found the half-breeds eating the rotten pork of the Hudson Bay Company and getting sick and weak every day. Although a half-breed, and having no pretension to help the whites, I also paid attention to them. [...] We have made petitions, I have made petitions with others to the Canadian government asking to relieve the condition of this country.”

“We have taken time; we have tried to unite all classes, even may speak, all parties.”

“During my life I have aimed at practical results. I have writings, and after my death I hope that my spirit will bring practical results.”

“When we sent petitions to the Government, they used to answer us by sending police [...] There are papers which the Crown has in its hands, and which show that demoralisation exists among the police, if you will allow me to say it in the court, as I have said it in writing.”

“If I am blessed without measure I can see something into the future, we all see into the future more or less.”

“The only things I would like to call your attention to before you retire to deliberate are: 

1st That the House of Commons, Senate and Ministers of the Dominion, and who make laws for this land and govern it, are no representation whatever of the people of the North-West.

2nd That the North-West Council generated by the Federal Government has the great defect of its parent.

3rd The number of members elected for the Council by the people make it only a sham representative legislature and no representative government at all.”

“I have never had any pay. It has always been my hope to have a fair living one day. It will be for you to pronounce - if you say I was right, you can conscientiously acquit me, as I hope through the help of God you will. You will console those who have been fifteen years around me only partaking in my sufferings. What you will do in justice to me, in justice to my family, in justice to my friends, in justice to the North-West, will be rendered a hundred times to you in this world, and to use a sacred expression, life everlasting in the other.”

What do you know about Louis Riel?

I have done this walk in my mind so many times that I have lost count. Historical accounts of the day note that it was a chill, clear, autumn morning. The prairies stretched out, silver frost bathed in sunlight. He faced it all and was brave until the end. Despite reports of it being destroyed, former premier of Manitoba Duff Roblin and his family, and the RCMP gloat over the supposed fragments of the rope that hanged the traitor, and I wonder how long the rope would be if you lined up every single scrap of twine rumoured to be the noose that killed Riel?

Does it make you feel less guilty to call him a founding father? Canadians are only able to remember him through his murder and not through his words that can still animate his presence. Written words and objects once owned are ghosts, extensions of our bodies and spirits. When I read his letters and journals I see the urgency in his penmanship, and I think about the sweat and invisible oils of his skin becoming a part of each page as he wrote and wrote and wrote. I wonder where each journal travelled with him during his exile, and why he chose each book. There is one with an illustration of a guardian angel watching over two children, and I wonder if he thought of himself as one of them being shepherded through life by his ancestors. 

Canadians argue about whether or not Riel should have been hanged instead of talking about what he had believed and said and accomplished, and what he wanted to do with the rest of his life had it not been cut short. 

No one talks about his dreams or his fears, and he did not live long enough to answer the question of if he would have wanted to be revered as the first premier of Manitoba. Or, in response would he ask for clean water for all, to stop the sweeps, and starlight tours? Would he ask for the Winnipeg police to search the landfills for our murdered women instead of brutalizing and killing us? Would he call for an end to all colonialism and genocide? Or would he simply ask for a place to smudge and be in peace for a while?

When we send petitions to the government they still answer us by sending the police, before turning around and calling Louis Riel a founding father (Riel).

Canada cannot answer these questions for him by giving him that title posthumously, only sit with the discomfort of blood-soaked hands, and wonder how different things would have been had that sacred fire not been snuffed out in 1885.

I cannot answer these questions for him either

And I am still growing into our name.

Works Cited

Riel, Louis. Excerpts from his final statement in court on trial, July 31st, 1885

Stimson, Adrian, “Buffalo Boy: Then and Now.” Fuse Magazine, vol. 32, no. 2, 2009, pp. 18-25. 

St-Onge, Nicole J.M. “The Dissolution of a Métis Community: Pointe à Grouette, 1860–1885.” Studies in Political Economy 18.1 (1985): 149–172. Web. 

#all love to wab kinew but like....mr riel just wants community food and housing and to not get murdered and also our land rights back #like he just wanted us to live our little métis lives in peace and he hated the canadian government #my work #this was part of a performance but i would just like to post the text #native #métis #louis riel #politics #canadian politics #canadian history #métis history #first nations history #fnmi #mmiw #first nations métis inuit #missing and murdered indigenous women and girls #mmiwg2s #colonialism #canadian colonialsm #land back #history #poetry #personal writing #indian #ndn #american indian movement #north west resistence #red river residence