#defy death rider

[jonmoxleys]

#jon moxley #wrestlingedit #aewedit #aew #aew x defy #defy #defy wrestling #defy death rider #sheslikealostflower #moxreigns #wrestling #* #gifs

[allelitewrestlings]

Seattle, I love ya! DEFY: Death Rider (2023)

#jon moxley #wrestlingedit #aewedit #defy wrestling #defy #aew #aew x defy #event: death rider #ours: gifs #maker: s #*

[s0fter-sin]

soapghost circus au

ghost’s an extreme motorcycle stunt performer - globe of death, riding on his back wheel along tightropes, that sort of thing

soap’s a fire breather/dancer. he’s a roaming performer; he just finds empty spaces or bored people and starts twirling

he pretends not to notice the way he always wanders towards a certain tent every night to watch a certain masked daredevil defy gravity. he thinks he's slick and that ghost won't notice him in the crowd, completely forgetting that he's carrying something that happens to be on fire

ghost couldn't miss him if he tried

one day off, soap's trialing fire whips; he loves the loud crack and the way the flame licks through the air and maybe he's a little too impatient to practice with non flaming whips first, even though he's never used one before

he's covered in soot and fine welts where the tip of the whip keeps flicking back up at him, cutting through his shirt and stinging his skin but he doesn't let that stop him. it starts to stick to him, damp with sweat and blood and he's quick to strip it off; throwing it to the side to keep practicing

when soap finally gets a few good cracks in a row and breaks to celebrate, he almost jumps out of his skin when he sees the masked rider leaning against a trailer watching him

of all the times he's wanted ghost to talk to him, this is not one of them

he wanted to impress him, dance for him with his flaming batons and be mesmerised by his fluidity and skill

not catch him filthy and struggling with something as basic as a whip

he's ready for ghost to ream him out for not having control over the whip - he's known throughout the circuit for expecting utter perfection in his routines - but when ghost finally does speak, it's only to ask if he's done for the day

soap falters for a moment. he wanted to get some consistency with the whip before he stopped, but he's starting to feel the hours of practice; muscles aching and skin blistered with minor burns

he says he is and ghost pushes off the trailer, nodding his head to make soap follow. he brings him back to his trailer and tells him to clean up then takes out his personal med kit to treat the grazes on soap's skin

soap's shocked; for all that he loves to watch ghost perform, they've never really talked before

part of why he joined the circus was so he wouldn't be a burden on anyone, the oldest in a family with too many mouths to feed and not even time to nurture, and here he is taking up ghost's valuable practice time be he wasn't good enough to handle his own discipline. he tries to brush him off, downplaying the burns and tries to leave before half them can be treated but ghost just glares and orders him to sit back down

ghost does expect perfection from himself but it isn’t out of any malice or ego; it's bc he knows if he isn't perfect, he could very easily die. he’s picked a dangerous profession and he gives it the respect it deserves. there isn't any shame in being a novice or failing at something; he thinks there's a lot of beauty in having the courage to get back up again and again

so every day he watches soap practice and bullies him into his trailer to put him back together bc he knows he won't do it by himself

and every night soap wanders over to ghost's section of the fair grounds, in awe of his skill and wishing he could be worthy of the care he gives him

#have i posted this before? yes but it has an actual idea behind it now #anyway back on my ‘soap pushes himself too hard to meet expectations only he is holding him to’ bullshit #price is obviously the ring master and id say gaz is probably trapeze #ghost used to work for robas circus who kept pushing him to do more and more dangerous stunts with less and less safety measures in place #and for a long time he thought thats how it was supposed to be #he was supposed to court death every night. supposed to limp back to his trailer and take care of his own injuries #and its only when price comes to one of his shows to scope out roba as competition and confronts him afterwards abt the conditions #that he realises something might be wrong #so seeing his past staring back at him in the form of soap hurts something deep within him and he has to make it right #he doesnt want soap to have to live with the same deep pains that he does #injuries that couldve been avoided if hed just gone easier on himself #coming out of my cage and ive been doing just fine.txt #we’re a team. ghost team #soapghost #ghostsoap #ghoap #john soap mactavish #soap cod #simon ghost riley #ghost cod

[witchersoldier]

Good Fucking Girl

rafe cameron x reader

SUMMARY: you find yourself inside the globe of death with none other than Rafe Cameron.

WARNINGS: mentions of drug use I guess, cursing, suggestive themes, a little dark I think but not really, cringe and rushed writing, not proofread. English is not my mother tongue.

WORD COUNT: 1.0k

AUTHORS NOTE: once again posting just after just finishing it. I never double read my work, or else I'd never post anything bc I'd probably hate delete it and never write again.

It was supposed to be a simple kook party, well, as simple as those went. But now I found myself inside a large metal globe, curiosity, and a bit of a haze from the pot brownie I had few minutes ago, led the way. A crowd slowly started to form outside the cage, faces I didn’t recognize were filled with excitement.

“Great, the substitute’s already here. Cameron, you’re in now.” The guy just beside the globe door spoke. Before I could say anything back, engine revving filled my ears and a sudden rush of adrenaline took over me. Globe of Death, that’s what this was. How come I didn’t recognize it sooner? They thought I was some kind of substitute, but for what? I had no bike nor was I dressed as a stunt rider.

Faster than my eyes could register, a red bike pulled up beside me inside the globe. He wasn’t showing any skin, yet he looked so damn delicious. Those black and red leathers clung around his larger body, the helmet with dark visors gave him such a mysterious look. He just stood there, tall and confident, making me feel smaller and fragile.

“What the fuck are you doing in here?” he spat at me, voice muffled. His hand flew to his visors pulling them up, revealing his ocean blue eyes. There was a hint of worry and anger, the latter was clearly not directed at me. I was stuck in place, trying to put together the pieces, his eyes and voice all too familiar. “Rafe?” my heart started racing, beating against my chest, so loud.

Fate was always bringing me to him, in the most unusual ways. Now this?

“Y/N get out of here now; you could get seriously hurt.” He looked down at me, commanding me to leave. Part of me felt scared and wanted to leave and obey him right now, but the need to defy him spoke so much louder inside of me. I didn’t have to prove him anything, but every time the Cameron boy was around me, I felt the undying urge to test his patience. Also, I could never let him see the power he has over me. “I’ll do what I please. And right now, I really feel like staying.” I raised my chin, looking deep into his eyes. Challenging him.

He only clenched his fist over his lap and chock his head, as if trying to get rid of his thoughts. Then again, strangely calm, he looked at me. “Fine. You want to do this? You got it. But if I see even one little hint of fear in you-” he didn’t finish his sentence, leaving it to my imagination. It was what he didn’t say that hit something deep inside of me, it made me feel hotness all over my body.

Rafe abruptly grabbed my wrists and put my arms above my head, making my red crop top ride up until it was barely covering my breasts. “Be a good girl for me and keep your arms up just like that, will ya?” Rafe’s voice was low as he gave me the order, his hand that was holding my arms up slowly traced down my body, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. When he reached the hem of my black skater skirt, he gave a barely-there squeeze and quickly put down his helmet visors. He revved his engine again, the vibration traveling through my body.

The crowd outside the cage was screaming, cheering. My friends probably somewhere looking at me, wondering ‘what the hell’s gotten into me’. The answer was right here inside the globe with me. Rafe Cameron. He’s got the talent of always getting under my skin, making me feel things no one else ever could, making me do things I normally wouldn’t, no matter how hard I tried to deny it, fight against it. That’s just the Rafe Cameron effect; he brings out parts of me that have always been there, just never stimulated enough.

And then the show began. Rafe started to make circles around me in his bike, going so fast I could barely make out his silhouette. The fear I felt before vanished so fast, in its place a feeling I didn’t think would make its way into this situation; arousal.

Rafe’s gloved hand touched the exposed skin on my waist, and he dragged it along as he kept circling around on his bike. My whole body felt like it was on fire, burning so hot, and the blood rushed to my core making me throb and clench around nothing, my body was betraying my mind. I wouldn’t be able to confront, deny Rafe after this, I’ll just be putty in his hands.

I don’t know if it was seconds, minutes or hours that passed by since he started touching me, but as soon as his hands left it was like the ground beneath my feet was disappearing too. I looked up to see Rafe taking of his helmet, still riding his bike around. His bangs hanging loosely on his forehead. He looked so heavenly right now, and I understood then when people said ‘looks can be deceiving’. No matter how angelic he’s looking now, Rafe Cameron’s the devil walking on Earth.

He handed his helmet for me to hold while he gave the final laps, and I held onto it like it was the only thing keeping me alive. At the moment, that’s what it felt like.

I only noticed the show was done when Rafe’s now bare hand touched my ass under my skirt. I couldn’t even fight it, his touch felt so fucking right, even with all those prying eyes around. If I was honest, the people watching us exchanging touches only made my body burn hotter.

His free hand came up to my jaw, forcing me to look into his eyes. Dilated pupils gave him away. He was just as turned on as me. I forced my head down to glance at his trousers; they looked so much tighter than before and made me think of how much I wanted to just sit on his lap and grind against him, right here and now.

Rafe forced my head back up, his face coming closer to mine. His lips were mere inches away from touching mine. He breathed out a low moan that sent shivers down my spine. His lips softly touched mine, just a ghost of a kiss, and he whispered to me approvingly, “Good fucking girl”.

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #outer banks fic #rafe cameron drabble #drew starkey #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader smut #biker!rafe cameron #biker au

[witheredoffherwitch]

Fandom Hypocrisy: Overlooking the Complex Narrative of Aegon ii Targaryen's Arc

I am writing this post as an extension to the previous reblogged post, which discussed the absurd theories circulating in the fandom about Aegon potentially violating his own mother 🙄🤦‍♀️ The obsession of this fandom with their personal headcanons can be quite absurd at times. It's even more ridiculous when their hatred for Aegon as a character overshadows the thematic significance of his story. It astounds me how this fandom can excuse and even romanticise the despicable actions of certain rapists and pedophiles, all because they happen to be their favourite character... BUT when it comes to Aegon's complex and nuanced character, suddenly everyone becomes a purist about morality and duty.

After all, so much of Aegon's journey is about facing unpredictable challenges and persevering against overwhelming odds. This should not be overlooked or overshadowed by personal biases towards his character. Here, I will delve into my own take on the central theme that drives Aegon's journey:

His main character arc revolves around rejecting his responsibilities until he is forced to face them! He defies tradition at every turn: neglecting his pure Valyrian bloodline, disheveled appearance compared to other royals, lack of drive for his claim and nonchalance towards establishing his house's legacy - yet still possessing all the quintessential traits of a true Targaryen heir: dragon rider and legitimate children through his sister-wife, and strongest claim to the throne via Andal tradition.

Aegon's upbringing was marked by years of abuse and neglect. He was born as a 'duty to the realm', and even his own kin saw him as nothing more than a disposable pawn in the race for the throne. It is crucial to examine how the political game unfolded in order to understand Aegon's position. He was forced into the role of a leader with very little support and resources - only 4 dragons compared to his opponent's 14, and one-third of the major houses backing him. Despite the odds stacked against him, he emerged as the underdog who ultimately prevailed.

Towards the end of the dance, he was a broken man, but still emerged as the ultimate victor. The discarded and overlooked son became the heir to his father's legacy. The Targaryen prince, who had never shown much interest in his legacy or his claim to the throne, ended up being the true winner of the Dance - a war that ultimately sealed the fate of his House in the long run. Though his legacy may have been diminished with Jaehaera's untimely death, the green faction still triumphed in both ideological and future succession battles, ensuring the eventual downfall of House Targaryen by depleting their most powerful weapons - their dragons!

This narrative is much more intricate, but in a fandom where people are quick to react with anger without fully grasping the depth of his character's development, it can become diluted. It deserves a more thorough examination, but unfortunately, there are individuals who attack anyone who posts anything positive about Aegon by labeling them as 'rape apologists'.

#aegon ii targaryen #alicent hightower #helaena targaryen #jaehaera targaryen #pro team green #hotd discourse #house of the dragon #fandom bs

[darklinsblog]

Flesh & Heart | Lucerys Velaryon Imagine

Summary: Lucerys Velaryon, the future Lord of the Tides would even defy her Majesty, his mother, all for love

Pairing: Lucerys Velaryon x Targaryen!Reader

Part I

Ever since that night on the pleasure house and the following actions on Luke’s chamber, you had barely gone apart. Which was quite disastrous taking into account you were still on accords to marry and Lucerys was betrothed to Rhaena.

For that, he knew he should’ve kept it quiet, to let that night fall onto oblivion, so you could go on with your lives and duties.

But he kept finding himself on bed with you, foolishly enamored and regardless of how hard he tried, his heart was elsewhere and his mother could spot the eyes of love on any distance.

From her perspective, maybe her children were simply being young, discovering even.

Rhaenyra didn’t see this as a sign of a alarm because as far as she was concerned, you both had every intention to follow along the lines of your traced destiny.

But as everything seemed at ease, Lucerys was able to have you every night, to suffice his need of you but even then it did not feel enough.

He was passionately kissing you, holding you with all his need in front of any guards, you were scared this would bring you trouble, but as soon as his body crashed onto yours, everything was forgotten.

There was only him and him alone.

But you knew reality was following along, sneaking upon the bedroom, filling your head with doubt.

As your lover was holding you close, pulling your hair apart to tenderly kiss on your shoulder you could only think of the one thing you had been hiding from Lucerys for over a week now.

“What’s clouding your mind, my dove?” He asked you

“I shall wed to Sargon Baratheon”

The room fell death silent as you spoke the truth. Lucerys seemed to tense up as he cupped your face, forcing you to look him in the eye.

“That is a lie” he muttered as his eyes watered, you shook your head slightly.

“I have chosen in an intent to protect the both of us” you spoke as the voice of reason, but he cared not for reason.

“How will this do us any good?!” He was hurt, mostly definitely, but you couldn’t string along any longer, the pain would only be greater.

Luke stood up, leaving you in the bed, creating distance between the two and in a way, this would be very much like your distance after your marriage.

“Lucerys wake up! You are to be Lord of Driftmark and to take Rhaena as your lady, we cannot fool ourselves, I am to marry a good Lord and that’s the end of it!”

“I am in love with you, Y/N! Does that not count for anything?”

“Love is not above politics, Luke…” you were speaking the mere facts, but it did not made the blow any lighter. “Lord Baratheon is to come to King’s Landing in three days and he shall take me as wife the day after”

“I am to lose you in four days from now and you wish for me to fucking what? Sit back, drink wine and clap happily upon your wedding?!” You looked down, knowing this was anything but fair

The young prince felt absolutely insane he was bubbling with anger, sadness, confusion… All at once.

“Our mother has made the arrangements, it is done, we cannot-“ you choked up in between the tears and now, he realized you were just as distressed as he was so he rushed to get on his knees and cup your face, wiping away with his thumbs your silent tears.

“I wish not to be apart…” you said with a low voice, and his heart skipped a beat

“Say the word Y/N, just a word from you is enough, for me to cross all skies, move every tide and ground there is to this world”

The prince was looking at you intensely, even now you could imagine your life with someone else, but that life would be dull, no matter how great was the man you were wedded to, you didn’t wish to share a life with a man that wasn’t Lucerys Velaryon.

“Prince Lucerys Velaryon The Sea Rider, heir of Driftmark, and Princess Y/N Velaryon, princess of Dragonstone”

The doors to the throne room opened widely, revealing you and Lucerys hand in hand.

Your mother Rhaenyra was sitting on the irone throne, many feet up and above you and you couldn’t prevent your knees from trembling. Even then, Luke held you firmly by the waist.

“My sweet boy and my beloved daughter to what do I owe this pleasure?”

“We wish to speak to you and our family alone” you managed to say graciously, your mother looked at the both of you, before turning to the Guards and other members who stood there.

“Please leave us” The Queen Regent requested and soon, there was only Jace, Joffrey, your mother, and your step-father Daemon alongside you.

“Feel free to speak your minds” she allowed you.

“Mother we wish for both of our marital agreements are dissolved” Lucerys spoke standing tall and firm, he no longer seemed that 14-year-old frightened and doubtful.

He was a righteous Prince.

“On what accounts?” Rhaenyra asked, even when she could figure what this was all about.

“Love, mother” he spoke simply holding you close. “It was not our intent, but Y/N and I have fallen for each other”

“Your Majesty, I see no other than Luke, if I am to have a content life I wish to share it with him alone” you spoke, your mother staying awfully quiet, thinking, soaking in your words as your family in the room shared expectant glances.

“As touched as I am at heart, this marital agreements must go forward in other to ensure beneficial alliances” she said rather calm yet authoritative.

“If it’s beneficial alliances you seek, Lady Rhaena may marry Corwyn Corbray, his house already has proven a good ally, a marriage would be aligned with the political agenda” Luke offered as it was the easiest decision to make, quite frankly, it was amazing how much sense it truly made.

“You may find a solution to your marriage being dissolved my dear boy, but the truth of the matter it has already been notified to Sir Sargon Baratheon that this marriage is to be celebrated, standing back now will be disastrous beyond proportion” she tried to reason, Y/N’s stomach fell to the floor as well as any hope that she could’ve harvest.

“Mother, I beg you” you said, your mother was torn apart truly, but there was no way out of this, not now. Not when the choice was made.

You shared glances with both Jace and Daemon and they both wished to help, but they couldn’t, your mother’s claim was already standing on a thin line for the fact of being a woman sitting on the Iron Throne.

There were some mistakes that could not be made.

But Lucerys would drop it so easily, not with this and so he held your hand tighter. But no one was expecting what the prince said next.

“If you oppose to this your Majesty, I will be taking Arrax and traveling to Dragonstone to take Y/N as my wife on all accounts” Lucerys deadpanned and as he did everyone held onto their breaths.

This time, your mother looked hurt and deeply offended as she sat up straight and with her tense shoulders.

“You dare to defy the authority of your Queen, Lucerys?” She spoke rather harshly now.

“We are flesh, your Majesty. I am simply stating the fact that there are greater forces than House Targaryen itself. If you do not support us, you’ll give us no choice”

“Brother, be wise” Jace spoke quietly, trying to ease up the tension on the room, while your step-father choked on a smile, half-proud and half-impressed with the kid’s balls.

“I have been, this is the only time I allowed myself to act upon heart rather than mind” it was scary for everyone else to see Luke this defying of our authority, he had never been a rebel boy by any means, but it was stimulating to see the one you love fight for you so fervently.

Daemon stepped closer to Luke, trying to get him to back down, but Lucerys was quick to pull him away.

“I am no longer a boy, father” he spoke furiously, yet trying to kept his composure, as a man, Daemon knew his had no place to interfere now, not with the determination in Lucerys’ eyes.

“I am simply giving you a choice as our mother, the decision is made, you simply have to chose if you want to give us your blessing or not, either way it’ll be done”

“Why are you doing this?” She said, more hurt than anything.

“Why are you opposing this, mother?! YOU of all people should understand!” He roared and a heaviness fell on the room as he did.

Now you took a step forward “We know you loved our father in a unique way, but we knew your heart belonged to Daemon. Do we deserve the same pain you went through?”

“You talk of beneficial agreements. Marry us now and ensure Luke’s claim as righteous heir of The Tides, without the outrageous doubts of his legitimacy”

Rhaenyra let out a sigh now with a mischievous grin, the Queen stood up and walked down, to encounter her children, she kissed both of their foreheads letting out a soft giggle.

“You two, are indeed my flesh and blood” you and Lucerys looked at each other before looking back at your mother. “…and if you’ve taught me something today is that you will make a fine union”

Your eyes opened wide as realization hit, Luke and you shared a look of pure joy before you jumped into his arms, holding onto your future for dear life.

Lucerys looked deep into your eyes before kissing you with a heart full of joy, love, hope and everything in between.

“OI OI! There’s a minor in the room, you two!” Jace half-joked and when you turned you saw your older brother covering Joff’s eyes while the poor boy was squirming to try and get away.

“I’M FIFTEEN! Like I haven’t seen two people go at each other’s tongues like snakes fightin’!” Joff protested as everyone in the room burst out in a joint laughter.

“We’ll talk later with you, boy” Daemon said in a jokingly authoritative voice as he ruffled Joffrey’s hair.

And in that moment, every single thing made sense and it was perfect, it was full of joy.

You couldn’t help but smile thinking maybe, this was just a glimpse of the life ahead of you.

#hotd lucerys #hotd luke #house of the dragon lucerys #house of dragons #house of the dragon #rhaneyra targaryen #prince lucerys #lucerys velaryon #luke velaryon #lucerys targaryen #lucerys velaryon imagine #lucerys x reader #lucerys and arrax #hotd imagine #hotd season 1 #elliot grihault #timothée chalamet #targaryen reader #house targaryen

[scyllas-revenge]

A Helping Hand

Pairing: Eomer/Reader

Rating: T 

Word Count: 841

Summary: You’ve managed to survive the Battle of Helm’s Deep unscathed—or at least, mostly unscathed. But much to your annoyance, a certain persistent horselord won’t rest until he’s sure you’re safe.

Read on AO3

“Let me see.”

Eomer reached for your hand the moment he saw the bloody fabric wrapped around your palm. Though he spoke gently, his voice held the quiet authority of a man accustomed to giving orders.  

But you were just as accustomed to defying them. “You need not bother, my lord,” you countered, scowling and trying in vain to tug your hand out of his grasp. “It’s only a small cut.”

“I think you’ll find the healers would disagree.”

“The healers are busy with more important matters,” you protested, gesturing to the makeshift infirmary springing up around you. The halls of Helm’s Deep were clogged with injured soldiers, crying children, and healers already running ragged in the aftermath of the battle. “I bandaged my hand well enough for now.”

Eomer shook his head obstinately. “Such an injury should receive all possible care, lest you wish to court infection.” Guiding you to an unoccupied chair in a quieter corner of the hall, he began to unwrap your bandages, ignoring your death glare. “Besides, you will struggle to hold your reins with that hand on our return to Edoras.”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t insult me, my lord!” How many years had Eomer known you—how many times had he seen that you were more than capable of taking care of yourself? “I hardly need both hands to hold my reins! I am a far more skilled rider than that.”

He let out a low chuckle. “Oh, I can well imagine.”

Your reply died on your lips. Suddenly you were all too aware of how warm Eomer’s hands were against yours, how broad and strong his fingers were as they turned your palm upwards and peeled back your makeshift bandage. Heat crawled up your spine.

“Lord Eomer,” you tried again, your voice wavering slightly. “Please don’t trouble yourself.”

He only chuckled again and shook his head.

Your other hand clenched in your lap, and you took the opportunity to observe him as he worked. He looked terrible. Dark orc blood still splattered his armor, shadows bloomed under his eyes, and his hair hung lank and matted around his face. You had the sudden wild urge to sweep his hair out of his eyes, to cup his cheek in your hand, to—

“A small cut, did you say?” He met your eyes, brows raised dryly, mercifully pulling you from your thoughts.

“Yes,” you said stubbornly. But in the morning light streaming through the high windows in the hall, your hand looked worse than you’d remembered.

With a long-suffering sigh, Eomer flagged down a passing healer to procure a clean cloth and some water. Your hand stayed firmly in his grip all the while. “So then. How did you obtain this small cut?” he asked.

In a halting voice, you explained—how the Uruk-hai had stormed the doors to the caverns last night, after the walls of Helm’s Deep had been breached. How you and the other women had pressed back against the doors, holding them shut through sheer strength of numbers, muscles straining and shoes skidding on the smooth stone underfoot. How the wood had splintered under your hands, a blade sinking through the rotting wood and cleaving open your palm like a knife into butter.

How the Horn of Helm had rung out with the rising of the sun at that very moment, and you had known at last that you were safe—you had known that Eomer was safe.

As you spoke, his fingers stroked absently against the back of your hand. You weren’t sure he was even aware he was doing it—but oh, you were aware of it. You could feel nothing else—not the warm water he dabbed against your palm, nor the clear, stinging liquor that followed to cleanse the wound.  

“You are a brave woman, my lady.”

His words caught you off guard. “There was little of bravery in it. We were hardly wielding swords against the enemy, as you were.”

“Well then,” he said, rewrapping your hand with surprising skill, “as an apparent connoisseur of such bravery, allow me to declare your actions last night noble, and honorable, and—yes, my lady—brave indeed.”

A flush crawled up your cheeks, and you looked away. "Thank you, my lord.”

His answering smile put the morning sunlight to shame. “The pleasure was mine, my lady,” he said softly. He stood to leave, but not before lifting your newly bandaged hand and pressing a kiss to the inside of your wrist. His lips lingered warm on your skin for a long moment. “I will see to you again when we return to Edoras." He murmured the promise against your hand, then looked up at you and winked.

Your pulse leapt wildly—but by the time you’d gathered yourself enough to respond, Eomer had disappeared among the throng of soldiers, healers, and citizens milling about the hall. You clutched your injured hand to your chest, the warmth of Eomer’s lips still vivid against your skin.

"Until Edoras,” you whispered breathlessly.

-

This was originally a much longer, more rambling, and less safe for work fic. I may write a NSFW chapter two to this someday, but no promises

#lotr fanfic #lord of the rings #eomer #eomer x reader #eomer x oc

[fanficapologist]

Of Dragons and Maelstroms

Themes and Warnings: slow burn, enemies to lovers, blood, violence, explicit language, sexual violence, period-typical misogyny, sexual themes, smut, tension, marriage, jealousy, pregnancy, childbirth, miscarriage, attempted sexual assault, breastfeeding, major character death, divergent timelines

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

Chapter Sixty-Two

“Don’t be absurd.”

Maera acknowledged her deep affection for the dragon, recognizing his presence during times of turmoil, but the notion of a formal bond seemed too fantastical to accept. Despite the denial on the surface, beneath the playful demeanor, other feelings wrestled within Maera – a sense of disbelief, perhaps fear, at the profound connection suggested.

Aemond, with a sense of certainty, argued, “You have just commanded a dragon the size of the Keep to not harm your husband.”

In defiance, Maera pushed back, her hand still on Ēbrion’s face as she argued, “I did not command; he merely chose to listen.” The married couple engaged in a spirited exchange, each stubbornly determined to prove their perspective to the other. The air crackled with the unspoken challenge, a testament to the dynamic interplay of trust and assertiveness that defined their relationship.

Aemond's smug demeanor lingered as he took a step closer to Maera, hand casually placed behind his back. His head cocked slightly, he explained with certainty, "Exactly. He has chosen to listen to you, to adhere to only your instruction." Maera, in response, rolled her eyes playfully and continued to pet the dragon, reveling in the connection. However, Aemond’s firm grasp on her wrist abruptly redirected her attention. She turned with a tense jaw, meeting his gaze with a mix of irritation and amusement. His efforts to capture her attention did not go unnoticed.

Undeterred, Aemond pressed on, his words asserting, “You are bonded, I can see it. Within his body language, and within yours.” Maera’s gaze locked with her husband’s single violet eye.

His insight and education, supported by his own experiences as a rider, usually held weight, yet doubt crept into her mind about the notion of a binding bond. The Targaryen bloodline ran deep in her veins, yet the idea of taming a dragon seemed implausible. Her mother, Lady Gael, had been Targaryen by blood and possessed the Valyrian features, but had no egg in her cradle. And her grandfather, Vaegon, was called ‘The Dragonless’ for a reason. Could it truly be possible for her to have tamed a dragon?

The uncertainty played across Maera’s features as she searched Aemond’s single violet eye, contemplating the complexities of her connection with the magnificent creature standing before her. The Prince, perhaps sensing Maera's uncertainty or driven by the desire to prove himself further, sighed before addressing her. "Watch, he will not listen to me, no matter how much I implore him."

Turning to the magnificent blue and black dragon, Aemond commanded, "Ēbrion, Soves." Fly. The dragon, however, remained unaffected, as if Aemond's words were mere whispers lost to the wind. Maera looked up, meeting the fiery gaze of Ēbrion, pupils expanded, still fixated on her. Vhagar grumbled beside the other dragon upon hearing her riders voice, seemingly readily to obey any command that was given, even if Ēbrion was not.

Aemond, now turning his attention back to Maera, remarked with a subtle challenge in his tone, "See? Now you." The unspoken test of the bond lingered in the air, inviting Maera to step into the spotlight and demonstrate the unique connection that seemed to defy conventional understanding.

Nervously, Maera gazed upon the dragon's face before summoning the courage to press her hand to his snout – the same hand unmarred by the cut she made all those moons ago, a testament to the dragon's recognition of her Valyrian blood. A reassuring nod from Aemond spurred her on, and she turned her attention back to the dragon.

Uncertain of the outcome, she spoke softly to the beast, uttering the word "Soves." The dragon's pupils contracted and expanded, a subtle dance of acknowledgment across his face. Ēbrion huffed, emitting puffs of smoke from his nose, before gracefully pulling away and making his way to the cliffside. There, he unfurled his wings, a majestic display of dark blue and black against the somber backdrop. With a powerful dive, he disappeared momentarily before reappearing, soaring into the expansive, grey skies.

Maera watched in awe as Ēbrion’s form cut through the air, defying gravity with each beat of his wings. The sight invoked a complex array of emotions within her – a profound sense of connection, admiration for the sheer beauty of the dragon in flight, and an underlying acknowledgment of the extraordinary bond that seemed to tie them together. As the dragon danced with the clouds against the grey canvas of the sky, Maera felt a mixture of exhilaration and a humbling sense of being part of something beyond the ordinary.

Aemond's voice cut through the wind, matter-of-factly stating, "The bond is truly solidified during the first flight, where beast and rider can truly get to know one another.”

His unwavering conviction in Maera's potential as a dragon rider sparked frustration, causing her to huff in response. "I told you, husband, I am no dragon rider."

The Prince, undeterred, responded with a nonchalant "Hmm," before tilting his head to the side. "Shall we rule it out then?" he proposed, a smirk playing on his face as he turned to face Vhagar, then back to Maera with a raised brow.

The unspoken challenge hung in the air, and Maera, understanding his intention, exclaimed, "Oh no, no, no, absolutely not." The prospect of taking flight on the back of a dragon brought forth a mix of apprehension and uncertainty. The fear of being thrown off Vhagar or the worry that she might prove incapable of handling the dragon added a layer of tension to her emotions.

The provoking hum and the glint in his violet eye conveyed an assurance that bordered on arrogance, a familiar stance for the dragon rider who embraced the thrill of flight. “Oh, come now. Don’t tell me that my fierce wife, the Jewel of Rainwood, is a mere simpering lady after all?” he challenged.

The words, though laced with a teasing tone, stung Maera with annoyance, causing a mix of other emotions to surge within her. The challenge stirred a competitive spirit, a desire to prove herself through defying the Prince’s words and embrace the exhilarating freedom of the skies. Yet, mingled with that ambition was a thread of vulnerability, the acknowledgment that this adventure might expose aspects of herself she had yet to fully understand. The prospect of flying alongside Aemond on the back of Vhagar carried both the weight of anxiety and the allure of uncharted heights.

With a frustrated growl, she looked her husband in the face with a defiant stare. “What do I do?”

Aemond's victorious smirk hinted at the satisfaction of winning their playful challenge. He extended his gloved hand, a gesture Maera took begrudgingly. Yet, the subtle sparks that flew between their intertwined fingers betrayed the underlying connection that persisted. Guided by Aemond, Maera reluctantly followed, their footsteps echoing in the quiet anticipation of the moment. The dragon’s gaze remained fixed on the Prince, awaiting his command with an air of regality.

As they stepped closer to Vhagar, Maera took a moment to study the magnificent creature. Her eyes wandered over the bronze chains adorning the dragon’s chest, seamlessly blending into the scales. Attached to these chains were ropes on the left and right, seemingly fashioned as reins for the rider.

Stopping midway down Vhagar’s side, Maera noticed an intricate network of chains and ropes forming ladders that led up to the saddle. The mechanism, designed for ease of mounting, spoke to the careful consideration given to the dragon’s rider and the seamless coordination required for such an exhilarating journey through the skies.

Aemond skillfully pulled on a taut rope attached to the magnificent dragon, before turning to Maera with a mischievous grin reminiscent of a Cheshire Cat. "Use the ropes to pull yourself up her side," he instructed, his tone a blend of amusement and confidence. "Hopefully she should not throw you off."

Maera, feigning shock at Aemond's jest, retorted, "Do not say such things when I am about to climb a dragon!" With a determined stride, she barged past him, her hands gripping the ropes. The deep rumble that resonated through Vhagar's colossal form sent a shiver down Maera's spine, momentarily questioning her resolve.

"I'll be right behind you, issa daria," my Queen, Aemond said in a hushed tone, his words a subtle encouragement. Despite the initial unease, there lingered a spark of excitement and a willingness to embrace the challenge. The opportunity to share such an exhilarating experience with Aemond, to soar through the skies on the back of a dragon, held an undeniable allure.

Emboldened by his presence, Maera began her ascent, hands gripping the ropes and chains as she pulled herself upward. The cool touch of the bronze links beneath her fingers and the slight vibration of the dragon’s scales against her palm heightened the surreal nature of the experience. Each movement carried the weight of anticipation and exhilaration, a dance with danger unfolding against the backdrop of dragon scales and the boundless sky.

Halfway up the beast, Maera couldn’t help but steal a glance downward, the ground appearing smaller and more distant with each passing moment. A momentary flip in her stomach threatened to unsettle her, but then her eyes met Aemond’s gaze below. His encouraging look, filled with a mix of pride and excitement, fueled her resolve.

Amidst the anxiety, there existed a glimmer of anticipation, a willingness to confront the unknown and test the limits of her own capabilities. Determined, Maera focused on the upward climb, hand over hand, her surroundings shifting from the dragon’s scales to the clear expanse of the sky above.

Upon reaching the saddle, Maera quickly realized that her attire was far from suitable for dragon riding. The layers of her black dress posed a challenge as she attempted to sling her leg over, resulting in a frustrated groan. Adapting to the circumstances, she opted to place both legs on one side of the saddle, hoping it would suffice to keep her secure.

Behind her, Aemond expertly settled into the saddle without a hitch, the familiarity of the motion reflecting his seasoned experience as a dragon rider. Maera, caught in a moment of admiration for her husband's natural affinity with dragons, couldn't help but smile. It was evident that Aemond was born to command the skies on the back of these magnificent creatures.

The Prince then pressed his chest against Maera's back, the warmth of his presence enveloping her, as he reached forward to the front of the saddle. A subtle shiver ran down her spine in response to his touch, the proximity of his body behind hers carrying a known excitement that tingled through her veins.

With practiced skill, Aemond procured two bronze chains, weaving them with a certain ease that spoke of countless flights shared with dragons. The first chain he delicately looped around Maera's waist, securing her to the saddle. The second found its place around his own, ensuring a shared connection between them and the dragon beneath.

As the chains settled into place, the close quarters of the saddle and the warmth of Aemond's touch stirred an intimate thrill within Maera. The unspoken language between them, familiar and charged with unexplored possibilities, added a layer of anticipation to the forthcoming journey through the skies.

The Prince reached past Maera once more, grabbing onto the ropes that were linked to Vhagar’s chained harness. Aemond pressed his face to Maera’s cheek, his skin on hers warm and comforting, before asking her, “Ready?” With a slight smirk and hesitant nod from his wife, Aemond turned his attention to his dragon below them. “Dohaerās, Vhagar. Soves.” Serve me, Vhagar, Fly

Maera felt Vhagar stir beneath her, the dragon's movements slow but powerful. As the massive creature rose to her feet, a profound sensation coursed through Maera's being, causing her stomach to churn in response to the shifting altitude. In instinctive reaction, she clutched onto the bronze chain securing her to the saddle, seeking stability in the impending ascent.

The vibrations of Vhagar's footsteps resonated through the ground, each mighty footfall echoing the colossal power of the dragon. Turning her head to overlook the cliffside, Maera's heart pounded loudly in her ears as she grasped the imminent reality. The air around them crackled with anticipation, and as Vhagar prepared for flight, Maera braced herself for the exhilarating ascent into the boundless expanse of the sky.

Vhagar unfurled her colossal wings, beating them with a resounding thunder that echoed through the air. The dragon's powerful wingspan created a rush of wind, stirring the atmosphere around them. As Vhagar's mighty form let out a bellowing roar, Maera's senses heightened, her pulse quickening in tandem with the imminent flight. With a ground-shaking burst of energy, Vhagar surged forward, running towards the cliff edge. Maera's stomach dropped in synchrony with the dragon's powerful stride. The precipice approached rapidly, and in a heart-stopping moment, Vhagar leaped into the cloudy void, leaving the ground beneath them.

As they plummeted, Maera's breath caught in her throat, the rush of adrenaline intertwining with the sheer exhilaration of the descent. Then, with a magnificent display of strength, Vhagar's wings caught the air in a triumphant ascent. The sudden shift from free fall to soaring flight was a breathtaking experience, the wind against Maera's face causing her eyes to water. Vhagar ascended higher into the sky, her wings slicing through the air with precision. The wind intensified, buffeting against Maera's face, prompting her to squeeze her eyes shut in an attempt to shield against the onslaught of air.

“Don’t you dare close your eyes, ābrazȳrys,” wife, the Prince commanded in her ear, yet all Maera could do was shake her head furiously, keeping her eyes firmly shut. She felt Aemond behind her pull on the ropes in his hands and the dragon transitioning into a more horizontal flight, her trajectory aligning with the expansive sky. Feeling the shift in movement, Maera cautiously opened her green eyes, adjusting to the rush of the wind now more of a steady force against her face.

With the world stretching out beneath them, Maera gazed at the vast expanse of the open sky, the calming point where the chaos of ascent subsided into the tranquil panorama of the cloudscape. The sheer beauty and freedom of flight unfolded before her, a moment suspended in time where dragon and rider soared together, harmonizing with the boundless canvas of the heavens.The initial quick breaths that escaped Maera's lips transformed into subtle laughter, the exhilaration of flight washing away the remnants of anxiety.

As the wind continued to whip around them, her laughter melded with the symphony of the skies. In that moment, high above the world, Maera embraced the joy that surged within her. The weight of uncertainty and sorrow in world she knew seemed to dissipate, replaced by a profound sense of calm and wonder. The dragon beneath her carried them through the open expanse, and Maera allowed herself to be captivated by the beauty of the world unfolding below.

As Maera glanced over her shoulder at her husband, a radiant beam of pride illuminated her features. Her gaze lingered on the familiar sight of Aemond, his leather eye patch a stark contrast against the backdrop of the sky. His Valyrian white hair, usually sleek and straight, now danced in subtle waves, tousled by the rushing wind.

She noticed the tension in his jaw, a silent testament to his focus and determination as he guided Vhagar through the vast expanse of the sky. Despite the weight of responsibility resting on his shoulders, Aemond's resolve was unwavering, his gaze fixed ahead as he skillfully controlled the dragon beneath them.

When his violet gaze met hers for a fleeting momen, a feeling bloomed within Maera, reminiscent of the familiar yet complex feeling of love. It was a sensation both suffocating and liberating, engulfing her in its intensity. Despite the looming shadow of war and the uncertainty of their future, Maera found solace in the presence of her husband.

The weight of their responsibilities and the looming shadows of the future did not matter in that moment, and there was a sense of reassurance in knowing that they faced it together. The vulnerability that accompanied her love for Aemond was palpable, a fragile thread woven amidst the chaos of their lives.

Yet, amidst the turmoil of emotions, Maera remained guarded, unwilling to fully open her heart to him at that moment. There would come a time when the words would need to be spoken, when the depths of her love would need to be laid bare. But for now, she held them close, waiting for the right moment to reveal the depths of her feelings to her husband.

After what seemed like hours, Vhagar's massive form finally touched down on the sandy beach near the Keep. Maera’s body lurched at the jolt of the landing and Aemond wasted no time in unbinding the chains that tethered them to the dragon, his movements precise and practiced. With Aemond's guidance, Maera began her descent from Vhagar's saddle, her fingers gripping the ropes tightly as she carefully navigated her way down. As she reached the ground, she was met with the sight of her husband standing before her, his arm outstretched in a silent invitation.

Maera hesitated for a moment before placing her hand in his, feeling the warmth of his touch as he guided her the last few steps down. His usually stoic demeanor softened, replaced by a sense of pride that radiated from him, mingled with an elusive emotion that left Maera intrigued. With Aemond's steady support, Maera finally stepped onto solid ground, a sense of accomplishment washing over her. She looked up at her husband, meeting his gaze with a mixture of gratitude and curiosity, wondering what lay behind the enigmatic expression in his eye.

As the couple strolled along the sandy beach and made their way to the castle, Maera felt a surge of pride welling up inside her chest. The experience of flying on Vhagar with her husband had been nothing short of exhilarating, and she couldn't shake the feeling of accomplishment that coursed through her veins. Conquering her fear of riding a dragon had opened up a whole new world of possibilities, and she knew deep down that it wouldn't be the last time she soared through the skies on the back of a mighty beast.

Within the walls of the Red Keep, Maera's excitement bubbled over, and she found herself chattering animatedly to Aemond about their flight. She bombarded him with questions about dragon riding, her emerald eyes sparkling with wonder and curiosity. Aemond, for his part, listened attentively to her every word, subtly smiling at his wife's infectious enthusiasm and answering each inquiry with patience and warmth.

The exchange brought back memories of their childhood, when they would wander the halls of the Red Keep together, lost in conversation about books they had read or sparring matches they had won. Maera's vivacity and enthusiasm contrasted with Aemond's silent but steadfast presence, yet together they formed a perfect balance, each complementing the other in their own way. And as they walked together now, sharing in the thrill of their dragon flight, that dynamic hadn't changed.

“It is a wonder how the Old Valyrian riders somehow did this without saddles and ropes,” remarked Maera, her voice still tinged with the remnants of excitement, as she ascended the staircase beside Aemond.

“They were truly skilled riders,” Aemond replied, casting a fond glance at his wife. “Wild dragons are harder to claim. Using their scales as support to climb on top of them will be difficult. As will trying to control a beast that has no harness.”

As they continued their stroll through the corridors of the Red Keep, many nobles, still clad in funeral attire, offered respectful nods and curtsies as the couple passed by. Aemond, continuing their conversation, recounted tales of the legendary dragon riders of old. "I read Visenya had to build trust with Vhagar before she allowed the Princess to climb and ride her. Once Vhagar deemed her worthy, Visenya settled between two of Vhagar’s spines and secured herself with a simple rope and some determination.”

Listening intently, Maera couldn't help but interject with a hint of sarcasm, "Well, that doesn't sound terrifying at all." Her tone laced with irony, she couldn't fathom the bravery it must have taken to undertake such a feat, even as her imagination painted a vivid picture of the daring princess and her bond with the majestic Vhagar.

Aemond chuckled at Maera's dry humor, a twinkle of amusement in his violet eye. “You can ride a dragon very well, issa daria," my Queen, he remarked, his tone warm with admiration.

"And how would you know, issa darys?" My King, Maera countered with a playful challenge. "You have only seen me do it once."

Aemond met her challenge with a confident smirk and a tilt of his head. "I know for a fact that you can ride one dragon skillfully, wife, as I have enjoyed the sight of you doing it many times," he replied coyly, his tone laced with suggestion.

Maera couldn't help but roll her eyes at Aemond's playful remark, a blush creeping onto her cheeks at his unabashed flirtation. Their time together that day was but a fleeting moment of pure happiness amidst the turmoil of their lives, and Maera cherished every second of it.

The couple’s stroll was interrupted by the rhythmic clinking of armor, alerting the pair to the approaching guards and Ser Criston Cole, his imposing figure cutting through the dimly lit corridor with an air of authority. Tall and imposing, he exuded an aura of strength and loyalty befitting his position as Lord Commander of the Kingsguard.

"My Prince, Princess," Ser Criston greeted them with a respectful nod, his voice carrying the solemnity of his station.

"Cole," Aemond acknowledged him with a nod of his own, the exchange marked by a mutual understanding.

"The King has called for a meeting in the Small Council chamber, and your presence has been requested," Ser Criston informed them, his tone carrying the gravity of the message.

Aemond turned to Maera, a silent exchange unfolding between them as he wordlessly sought her approval to attend the meeting. Maera couldn't help but smile at the gesture, touched by his consideration of her opinion. With a nod of reassurance, she granted her approval, her heart warmed by the unspoken bond that united them.

As Aemond turned to make his way to the Small Council Chambers, Ser Criston's voice cut through the air once more, adding an unexpected twist to their exchange. "His Grace requested both you and your wife, My Prince," the Lord Commander stated, his tone carrying a hint of formality.

Maera furrowed her brow in confusion, her thoughts swirling with questions. What could Aegon possibly want with her? Formal dinners were one thing, but inclusion in a formal Small Council meeting was unprecedented for a woman, save for rare occasions when the dowager queen was permitted attendance. Caught off guard by the unexpected summons, Maera's uncertainty crept into her expression. Aemond, sensing her unease, locked eyes with her once again, silently conveying his support and understanding.

In response to Ser Criston's announcement, Maera hesitated before replying with a mix of uncertainty and deference, "I dare not refuse an order from my King." Her words held a weight of resignation, tinged with a hint of apprehension at the unknown path that lay ahead.

Notes: Some fluff and lore before the drama begins 🙃

Tags: @blue-serendipity @0eessirk8 @marvelescvpe @manipulatixe @watercolorskyy @shesjustanothergeek @abecerra611

Thank you so much for reading! Comments, feedback, likes, and reblogs are greatly appreciated 🖤

#maera wylde #aemond targaryen #aemond x oc #aemond fanfiction #chapters #hotd aemond #hotd fanfic #house targaryen #house wylde #hotd helaena

[eemoo1o-tfrmoo]

Snotlout Jorgenson and the art of defiance*, defamation, and daddy issues

* I will be including his demeanour as a doormat alongside this. I will not be discussing his dissipation in this post as well.

Today, I will be studying Snotlout in (RTTE) and his issues with rule abiding and control management and how his relationship with his father affects this.

The episodes in particular I will be deriving my sources from are:

Reign of Fireworms (1x07)

Team Astrid (2x01)

And, Darkest Night (6x10)

Additionally, an episode I will also be looking at, though only briefly, includes:

Big Man on Berk (1x05)

Firstly, we look at Reign of Fireworms for his acts of defiance towards leadership, with his vast background of defying Hiccup in reference.

(Wow, Tumblr really ate the quality on my already crunchy gif.)

Admittedly, this is a shy example in comparison to anything else I could have picked. Snotlout is known for defying orders and challenging leadership (with Hiccup and later Astrid respectively). However, what makes this episode so different is how Snotlout is so indecisive over the twins’ leadership. Allow me to put a pin in that for later.

Unlike other instances of rejecting leadership, Snotlout reacts similarly to the other riders over the twins’ new roles as Island Rulers, but the main difference between Snotlout and the others is that Snotlout seems to hold no filter over the matter, which is shown with how he is the first to protest, insult, attempt to rebel, and even propose to off the twins.

However, unlike the rest of the riders, Snotlout’s perspective on the twins’ leadership is quick to change when —

The twins give him a job that he likes: “sergeant at arms”.

This job is significant, and as such a role of power. This is seen throughout the episode where Snotlout is the one to throw all of the other riders (save from the twins, but eventually including himself) in jail.

Snotlout is the only one of the riders (with perhaps the exception being Fishlegs, but we don’t see much of that) to take his job, and the twins’ ridiculous rules, the most seriously.

However, once he throws himself in prison — claiming that “he was framed” — he is quick to side with the other riders’ rebellion again.

The main rule that Snotlout is seen sticking to most is the “no S” rule. At first, he seems adverse, with the twins calling for his as “Notlout”, and him completely missing the point, asking who that is and shrugging.

However, once fully embracing his role as “egeant at arm”, Snotlout is heard attempting to remove any S’s from his speech as often as he can. Until he throws himself in jail.

The “throwing himself in jail” aspect of the episode is only used to get the riders all together again, and as a gag, but if we look at it more earnestly it’s sort of telling of how seriously Snotlout took the role and how he was playing into the role so much that he became a different person from his regular self.

Such evidence could be seen in how he claims “I was framed!” instead of “I wa framed!”.

I’m not implying that I think Snotlout has DID, but I am implying that I think his father (and other adults of Berk) — and the first movie — has something to do with this.

As far as I recall, in the first movie, Snotlout was the leader of the teens, and bully of Hiccup. I think it’s also implied that he’s the teen (or all of the teens are, excluding Hiccup) who’s well revered as being what a Viking should be for being strong and hard-headed, but now those are the characteristics that many on Berk frown upon him for. (The civilians even cheered for his death in the Defenders of Berk finale — another gag at Snotlout’s expense.)

I believe it’s also said or at least implied in the first film that Hiccup wants to be like the other kids, specifically Snotlout, and that Snotlout and Astrid were a thing, though the latter seems more expendable for my point to be made.

Now, Thawfest seems to be the only place where Snotlout can prevail over Hiccup (resented family name aside), and as such live up to his father’s expectations to some degree. We even see this inferred with how Snotlout is panicking in the final race over how “he can’t lose”.

We move onto the Defamation element of my analysis, with the few points I’d just made, and as such we skip to the episode Darkest Night.

In this episode, each of the riders (with the exception of Astrid and Hiccup) pitch each of their ideal realities if they’d never gone to Dragon’s Edge.

In Snotlout’s reality (after intruding on the ending of Fishlegs’) is one where he is promoted from Berk’s official weapon tester to their official weapon inventor.

Comparatively, this would be like a drug tester suddenly becoming a pharmacist, or a stunt man inexplicably becoming a choreographer.

The original job (weapon tester) in and of itself is telling of how Berk now views Snotlout. And while no one really mentions how dangerous or implicative the job actually is, we can see for ourselves the danger the job includes in both the twins’ reality and Race to the Edge’s first episode (as the twins’ reality starts off with a clip from the first episode where they place a wheelbarrow of sharp objects next to Snotlout’s pile of pillows whilst he’s testing out a catapult).

I don’t think this job would have been distributed to anyone smart enough to decline it, or at least well-liked enough to dissuade the distributor of said job to offer it to that person. As such, the job is very implicative in how Berk views Snotlout, whether he’s aware of it or not.

Now, in the episode, with the promotion Snotlout gives himself, he emerges from an explosion which is reminiscent of how the first film introduces the rest of the teens, only this time Snotlout is alone.

Unlike the others’ unrealistic realities, Snotlout’s is more like a fantasy than anything.

Not only does this fantasy feed into Snotlout’s egotistical point of view (as this is entirely centric on him, and other characters that are shown in this fantasy don’t pass the Snotlout-based Bechdel test), but we are also reminded of the time when Snotlout was well-liked: the first film, before Berk befriended dragons (though the dragons are still their friends in Snotlout’s fantasy, because as defamed as Snotlout’s image now is in contrast, I don’t think he’d give up Hookfang for the world — inexplicable explosion in the beginning of his fantasy aside), and even in Astrid’s alternate timeline where Berk hadn’t befriended dragons, and Snotlout is also well-liked by Stoick and others.

Firstly, Snotlout states that he invents this superweapon, though what is depicted is an unimaginatively unusable combination of all pre-existing weapons, though in the fantasy everyone adores the ‘invention’. I have the sense that while this isn’t stated to compete with Hiccup’s fire-sword, it is an attempt, because in the real world Hiccup inadvertently overshadows Snotlout in every possible aspect. Even Thawfest, however fleetingly.

In Snotlout’s fantasy, Gobber — who is very infamous for not taking Snotlout seriously or viewing him with any high regards — is the first to interact with Snotlout the Inventor by being completely enamoured with his invention, and praising him profusely on it.

When Hookfang appears in the fantasy just after, his tongue is hanging just marginally out of his mouth and his pupils are large and rotund, and he flies off whilst allowing Snotlout to remain standing on him.

The pupils of a dragon are shown time and time again to be easy tells of their mood. Narrow for hostile or under the influence of mind control (via Death Songs, Bewilderbeasts, Red/Blue/Green Deaths, so on), and wide/large for comfortable, adoring or even playful, as well as under the influence of dragon nip.

However, what makes Hookfang’s expression here most odd — as fantastical as it is — isn’t the very adoring way it’s depicted, but rather the shape of his pupils. We’ve seen Hookfang’s pupils dilated before, but they aren’t ever as round as they are here.

The dragon with the roundest and largest pupils that we know of is actually Toothless (the Night Fury, and as such the Light Fury). While Toothless’ pupils go a bit squarer as the movie series goes on, in the way they are depicted in Race to the Edge they are round, and as such so are Hookfang’s here.

This is obviously another way of showing that Snotlout wants what Hiccup has. In a way, he wants Hookfang to see him like Toothless sees Hiccup.

(A note worth adding us that in Snotlout’s fantasy, there’s even a metal statue of himself on Hookfang which he kisses the cheek of. This feeds into the egotistical side of things, but also serves as a callback to the Riders of Berk episode When Lightning Strikes.)

There’s also this golden, smoky hue over Snotlout’s fantasy which is lacking in the others’ concepts for an alternate reality, which perhaps could symbolise how this is an ideal, self-serving idea, and that these would have been golden memories for Snotlout, if they were to exist.

Next, we see Astrid fawning over Snotlout and then, the moment he is to land, his father scoops him up and says “You make me proud to be a Jorgenson, boyo!”, which is a recurring theme in Race to the Edge with how Snotlout expresses a true desire to hear this.

Which brings us, briefly, back to season one, with the episode Big Man On Berk.

In short, as stated in @jesse-the-writer’s post here, Snotlout seeks validation from men he deems strong, such as Thor and Dagur, due to his faulty relationship with his father.

He idolises them (Dagur more so in and before Riders and Defenders of Berk than after), in a manner similar to how he idolises his father, and in doing so he ignores how they write him off (Thor and Dagur), or forget his name countless times after being corrected (Dagur), or even insult his dragon (Thor) by laughing it off awkwardly and sometimes agreeing.

And all of the above is reminiscent of how Spitelout treats him (mostly in Riders and Defenders of Berk, but in a few instances of Race to the Edge also).

Psychoanalytically, the way parents treat their child pays a big role in how they view and act in relationships. This source focuses on romantic relationships, however some key elements can be attributed to platonic relationships, also.

“For instance, if your parents were not very affectionate and hardly ever hugged or kissed you, you may have an aversion to affection as an adult.”

I recall in the Defenders of Berk episode Scauldy, that when Astrid finally returns Snotlout’s affections/serial flirting (albeit in an insincere but well-acted way), Snotlout is immediately deterred and as such disgusted by her advances.

This is seen again with Ruffnut in the second and third film, and how he is quick to move on from and disregard her when she finally shows interest (albeit in both him and Fishlegs).

This shows that Snotlout actively pursues relationships (assumably romantic) where he is led to believe that his affections will not be returned or where they outright are not. Seeing as Spitelout, too, is not very affectionate, this could be a direct cause to Snotlout’s inability to find mutual affection very favourable or at the very least pleasant.

(A note worth mentioning is that in the season six episode Mi Amore Wing, Snotlout is the most visibly disgusted by the extreme affection shared between Mala and Dagur.)

Now, the most important question: is Snotlout aware of his father’s bad parenting? For that we go to the episode Team Astrid.

(The true villain of How To Train Your Dragon was Hiccup all along.)

Well, of course he is.

I think there’s something to be said for the change in Snotlout’s design. I won’t go too much into the theory here, but when Snotlout was younger he looked more like his father which shows that back then he was probably more blindsided to his father’s bad parenting ethics.

However, now that he is older he looks less like his father (squarer jaw, lighter skin, less freckles, shifted teeth), albeit still related in some way, which could be seen as a metaphor for how Snotlout is still looking up to his father, but is more aware than what he once was about what is so inherently wrong in their relationship (if not directly).

(This theory of mine also includes the idea as to why Spitelout has Deadly Nadder over a Monsteous Nightmare, which is briefly explained in the tags of this post here.)

As such, Snotlout clearly wants revenge that “the world owes him” (a line which could also double as him being owed for passing this opportunity up to actually listen to one of Hiccup’s orders, a trait which he gets better at in most instances as Race to the Edge goes on).

The way that Snotlout also puts emphasis on “I” and “him” here also implies that this is what Spitelout’s influence and presence over him is: a means to correct and shape him in a way that puts him down and never allows him to meet expectations, at least not fully. As such, this affects his ego and desire to be known, seen, as well as his view on relationships that hold a mutually professed affection whilst he still craves and shows a longing for his father’s approval and praise which deters him from anyone else’s (causing him to seek out relationships that are not mutually beneficial).

However, while I believe that Snotlout and Spitelout’s relationship isn’t beneficial to either parties, and as such toxic but not purposefully so (in fact I can imagine Spitelout’s relationship with his own father having been quite similar, but there is no evidence to support this, as far as I recall), I do not believe that it is inherently parasitic (otherwise I would be quoting the twins’ ramble about such relationships from Living on the Edge).

To sum up this analysis, I bring you these points:

Defamation: Snotlout was once well-liked amongst other Berkians for being strong and courageous but since Hiccup befriended the dragons Snotlout has since been pushed aside for the reasons he was once held in high esteem for.

As such, this makes him envious of Hiccup, and Hiccup’s relationship with Toothless, as Hiccup is now the one that everyone likes.

Defiance: This means that he is all too willing to prove and make a fool of himself due to this as well as trying to show to his father that he can amount to his expectations, and as such disregard most orders.

This makes Snotlout very willing to abide rules when he his put in a position of power above others, as seen in Reign of Fireworms. However he can sometimes get too carried away and disassociate himself from the role the more seriously he takes it.

Daddy issues: His and his father’s relationship is the reason why he chases relationships that treat him as the underdog despite his own ego, that either have him pursuing the forever unreciprocated (i.e. Astrid, and later Ruffnut) or even those that he idolises but is always disregarded (like Thor and Dagur), which could be seen as him trying to recreate his and his father’s relationship or perhaps search for the affection he has never properly received, but is immediately deterred once potentially finding or receiving it.

A part of Snotlout sees what is wrong with his and his father’s relationship, as seen with how he wishes to enact revenge through treating his father as he did him.

I think that the damage caused to Snotlout and his relationship with his father isn’t entirely reversible, I do believe that their relationship could reform. However, I don’t think them finding a means of doing so is entirely possible.

#httyd #race to the edge #snotlout jorgenson #character analysis #spitelout jorgenson #big man on berk #thor bonecrusher #reign of fireworms #team astrid #darkest night #analysis #my analyses #fuck spitelout #spitelout neutral post #hookfang #gifs #original post

[houseofpendragons]

Childen of King Aenys I Targaryen and Queen Alyssa Velaryon

Rhaena Targaryen : 23AC-72AC

The eldest of the children, rider of Dreamfyre, and sister-wife to Aegon the Uncrowned and later to her uncle, King Maegor the Cruel. Also known as one of Maegor’s Black Brides, Queen in the West, and Queen in the East.

Aegon Targaryen : 26AC-43AC

The second child, eldest son and heir. Brother-Husband to Rhaena Targaryen and father to their twin daughters. Rider of Quicksilver, whom died with him in a battle against his usurping uncle, Maegor the Cruel. Also known as Aegon the uncrowned.

Viserys Targaryen : 29AC-44AC

The second son. Taken by Maegor as a squire and hostage, after his siblings and mother fled he was tortured for nine days by King Maegor the Cruel’s orders until he died

Jaehaerys I Targaryen : 34AC-103AC; Reigned from 48AC-103AC

The youngest son and fourth born child as well as the fourth Targaryen King to sit the Iron Throne. Rider of Vermithor the Bronze Fury. Brother-Husband to Good Queen Alysanne Targaryen. Also known as the Conciliator, the Wise, and the Old King. He ascended the throne after his uncle, Maegor the Cruel’s, mysterious death. Due to his young age, his mother the Dowager Queen Alyssa Velaryon ruled as his regent for the first two years, and named his hand as Rogar Baratheon; whom would later go on to become his step-father

Alysanne Targaryen : 36AC-100AC

The fifth born as well as the second daughter, she was a rider to Silverwing. She was the sister-wife to King Jaehaerys the Conciliator and his consort as Queen of the Seven Kingdoms; though Dorne had not yet been secured yet. Also known as the Good Queen, the Little Maid, and the Other Daughter. She put an end to things such as the First Night, flew to the Wall, and wasn’t afraid to put her foot down. She defied her mother and council to marry her brother, and it is recorded in history of she and her brother-husband having at least two major falling outs that left to her departure known to history as the First & Second Quarrel

Vaella Targaryen : 39AC-39AC

The youngest child and last born daughter whom died in the cradle

#fire and blood #fire and blood fancast #asoiaf fancast #asoiaf #house of the dragon fancast #aenys targaryen #alyssa velaryon #rhaena the black bride #rhaena targaryen #aegon the uncrowned #aegon targaryen #viserys targaryen #jaehaerys targaryen #Jaehaerys the conciliator #alysanne targaryen #good queen alysanne

[vixen525noms]

Defying Certain Death Part 16

Copied from my DeviantArt account, a non-sexual G/T vore story featuring adults along the lines of the lion and the thorn fable. There will be tons of hurt/comfort aspects, lots of safe vore. That is the primary focus in this.

Barrett is an adult giant standing 85ft tall and Hope is an adult human at 5ft 6. Barrett does not eat children at any point.

Warnings: Characters in Distress; Unwilling Prey; Fatal Vore; Violence; Torture

Editor: @vore-scientist

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Barrett was confused, but that was happening a lot since he met Hope. It had been a whole week since he took her to town to get amazing clothing and she hadn’t seemed to cheer up or start to trust him at all. Twice he caught her sneaking off; including the same night he bought her clothes. Why hadn’t pretty new clothing made her like him more? It happened again when he brought her supplies from another trader wagon he stopped. Why didn’t she like him bringing her human stuff? He had even made sure to eat the humans before bringing her their stuff so she wouldn't know what he had done… He saw her cook using the food supplies. She wore the clothing. The wagon even had some jewelry in it and she didn’t even touch it! It was very bizarre.

She had smiled when he brought back a rather fat buck this afternoon. He let her take some before eating the rest, and watching her cut off the pieces she desired had been fascinating. She didn’t even seem to mind the blood. 

Now he watched her washing her clothing in the lake. At least she was wearing the pretty outfit he bought for her again. That made him happy. He got up from where he sat on the cot he had bought to stay here after he realized he would be staying long term. He couldn’t go back to his house with her. The other syor and the few human and beastfolk... allies syor occasionally had would not be kind to her. So he had to stay here while he figured it out. He would have to get a tent if he stayed here much longer, rainy season would come in time. He watched her turn to look when he stood, and spoke to her, trying to keep his tone soft to at least try to be less scary to her, “I’m going hunting. You seem to have plenty so I won’t worry about bringing more meat back. I’ll be back soon.”

Barrett made sure Hope settled back into what she was doing, then walked off between the trees. When hunting, his kind could move uncannily quiet. You would think the movement was a much smaller creature, if you noticed at all. He headed past where the deer would frequent, wanting a different kind of prey. It took him a while, but he found his way to the road sometimes used by human travelers and caravans. Idiot humans... they should know being on this side of the border is a risk. Well, their stupidity would benefit him.

He waited a few hours, sniffing the air occasionally, flicking up the dark membrane that let him see energy signatures occasionally to watch for prey... Then finally, something appealing. Someone riding a horse. He’d prefer multiple, but he could make do with one. He waited until they were close, then burst out past the trees. The man turned the horse and kicked it to a gallop, but Barrett was close enough he didn’t need to fear wearing out before catching up. He burst into a sprint, and having removed his shoes earlier for hunting, his clawed nails helped him grip the ground better for the chase. Before long he snatched up the horse and rider, grinning at his catch. “Oh that was a nice chase, little human.” He sniffed to savor the scent of his meal, and paused. He sniffed again.

He walked back to where he left his shoes as he considered the situation, biting the struggling horse in half and swallowing, then finishing off the equine. He wasn’t sure what to do about this... unusual human. At the very least he could taste the human while he thought about it. He licked over the struggling morsel as he put his shoes back on, then spat the man, now covered in bloody saliva, into his hand. His decision was made. He would take this human back to Hope. Nothing else had pleased her, maybe bringing back a human that smelled and tasted similar to her would cheer her up.

Barrett reached the camping site again, sitting down near the lake. Hope was folding her now dry clothing, and glanced over when she heard water splash.  Barrett had dunked the hand holding the strange man in the water. He moved it around a bit, then pulled his hand out, checking the human in his hand to see that he caught his breath, then dunking him again. Once again he swished the human around to get most of the saliva and horse blood off, then pulled him out once again. Barrett examined the man in his hand as Hope stared at him in confusion, clearly puzzled by this unique behavior. Barrett smiled, then set the human he brought back down in front of Hope as he said, “I brought this human back when I smelled he is related to you.”

Barrett cocked his head, watching Hope seem to freeze as she stared at the man. He smiled when she said, “Dad?” But frowned when he realized the tone of her voice hadn’t been happy. He watched as she backed up a few steps and stumbled to fall back. He leaned in to look at her... she looked terrified. Like when he first got free of the rocks. He listened to the man talk nicely to Hope, calling her sweetheart and such... but he wasn’t paying much attention to that. He did this to make Hope happy. She was not happy. He scooped her up into one hand, and grabbed the man with the other. The man was still trying to be all nice, thanking Barrett for bringing him to his daughter... Barrett wasn’t liking this man now.

Barrett held Hope up near his face, “Hope? Hope calm down... this man... your father... makes you scared?” He watched her nod. He frowned, “Then I shall show you what I do to things that threaten you. You are mine now and I will protect you.” He set her down on a thick tree branch so she would be elevated and have a better view. He smiled at her, holding the man firmly in his grip. The man, who definitely noticed something was wrong, was begging. Barrett did not care for pleas, he only cared about Hope. “He will never hurt you again. Nobody will ever hurt my Hope.”

Once she was secure in the tree, he settled in where he sat, examining the man in his grip, finally paying attention to the begging. “Seems my Hope is scared of you. You hurt her. So, I will hurt you.” He dragged a claw tip over the man’s arm, eliciting a cry of pain. Barrett smirked, “I could just eat you. Bite down on you, crush your body in my teeth, end you in an instant. But that would be merciful; I want to have a little fun.”

“Hope... saved a syor? Saved you?” The man said in shock. Barrett smiled, “She did, that makes her mine. Which means eliminating threats like you.” Barrett slowly tightened his grip until his pointed ears picked up a crack. He stopped as his ears twitched at the gasp of pain. He brought up his other hand, resting the tip of a claw against the man’s exposed shoulder, “Aww; that was barely a whimper. I can do better than that. What should I hurt next? I don’t want to kill you. you wouldn’t make delightful struggles in my belly...”

Barrett loosened his hold but before the man could even contemplate trying to flee, he drove a claw into his leg. “Ah ah ah, no running away.” He retracted his claw back just a bit, then placed the tip over the man’s crotch, pressing down to cut but not sever, “No... that would make you bleed too much. Hmm...” He then took a claw and scraped off some skin from his leg with the sharp edge of a claw, then licked his claw clean. “Not the best tasting human, but you’ll do.”

He grabbed the man between his fingers, and held him up to his mouth. He forced him to stick out an arm, and put it between his teeth. He bit slowly as the man screamed and struggled, crushing the arm with his teeth but not removing it. He didn’t want to kill the man immediately. He wanted him to suffer for hurting and scaring Hope. He released his hold on the arm, then dangled the suffering man in front of his face. “Don’t pass out on me. I want you to give me a struggle.” He went to stick a leg in his mouth when he heard a whimper from Hope, then focused on her again. “Hope?” He frowned... she looked more scared than before. “Hope... He hurt you. So I am getting rid of the threat... Why are you scared? He can’t hurt you?”

Barrett considered a moment, and decided trying to make Hope calm down was more important than punishing the man. He popped the man into his mouth, savoring the taste for a moment before swallowing; then plucked Hope from the tree and set her in his palm. “Don’t be scared, Hope. He’ll never hurt you again. Nobody will. He’ll struggle and fuss until the acid until his legs are too damaged to support him. He’ll die in there and be gone forever and will never hurt you again.” He brought her to her face to nuzzle her, but paused when she cringed back. He thought a moment, then proceeded to nuzzle her despite the reaction. “You are mine. Nobody takes or hurts what’s mine.”

He wasn’t trying to scare her, and didn’t fully understand why she seemed more scared now, but he would later be grateful that she seemed to no longer try to escape him. He hadn’t liked her trying to escape, and while he didn’t like that she wasn’t talking to him like when he was trapped, he also had already made up his mind to keep her.

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#defying certain death #dcd #gt vore #terrasyor #giant tiny #barrett #syor #g/t vore #vore writing #g/t writing #size difference #hope and barrett #barrett and hope #barrett the giant #my writing #my stories #my stuff

[allelitewrestlings]

#jon moxley #wrestlingedit #aewedit #defy #aew x defy #defy wrestling #aew #event: death rider #ours: gifs #maker: s #* #tw: flashing gif

[gaybitchfx]

Anon that asked for 🐍 Mizuki thank you so much! I melted, it was so cute! Also your masterlist makes me so nostalgic... I remember when I first watched Black Butler Season 2 and do you think you can write Alois (my sweet poor baby) with a reader that is part of Noahs Ark Circus and acrobatic rider or just an acrobat (maybe he is a member of the inner circle with a prothesis or not, up to you!)? Tbh just Alois that visits the circus, he deserves a break!

Note: He may not be me favorite character but he honestly needs a break for once. Also I haven't watched the book of circus so I had to do some form of digging to find out what episodes I needed to watch.

CIRCUS VISIT

Character(s): Alois Trancy

Type of reader: M!Reader

Category: Fluff🥰✨

Warning(s): None

Edited: ❌

"Come on, Claude! The show's about to start!" Alois said as he dragged Claud inside and over to a seat.

"The show doesn't start till four minutes from now." Claude said with a small sigh before sitting down with Alois. They waited four minutes and that's when the lights started to dim before a light in the very middle turned on showing someone.

"Ladies and gentlemen, boy and girls! Welcome to Noah's Ark Circus! My name is Joker. Pleased to meet 'ee!" Joker introduced himself as he juggled a couple of balls only to not catch any of them as they bounced on his head when he bowed making the crowd laugh. He stopped bowin and opened his mouth revealing a blue ball which disappeared when he held it in his hand. "I wonder how he did that. Don't you Claude?" Alois asked as he tugged on his sleeve.

"I don't, my lord." Claude simply answered. "Tonight you'll see performances to stun and amaze 'ee!" He said and a couple of other people appeared behind him when the lights in the background turned on, also revealing people on a swing.

"And now, with a great broze from our fire-breathing Jumbo, the show of the century begins!" Joker announced before him and the few other acrobats ran off allowing Jumbo to blow fire towards the crowd.

"First our trapeze artist, perfectly in tune with each other: Peter and Wendy!" Joker said showing a girl letting go of her swing and the boy catching her without much effort making the group cheer and clap. "Wow! Look at that Claude!" Alois exclaimed as his eyes light up in pure joy. "Our knife-thrower, the perfect shot who never misses his target: Dagger!" Joker announced revealing a boy throwing knifes at a women only for him to miss each time before hitting the apple that was on her head. The crowd clapped and cheered once again.

They then moved onto a man who had a couple of snakes wrapped around him. "And now, a beautiful dance by that rarest or rarities, our own serpent-man, Snake!" Joker exclaimed. "I wonder how he doesn't worry about them biting him." Alois said, his eyes following every move he made.

"And next... Look above ye, ladies and gents! A death-defying tightrope walk by the circus princess, Doll!" He said and everyone looked up seeing a women with an umbrella walking on the rope before doing a split in the air. "Next is the star of our troupe! I bring 'ee the famous tamer of wild cats!" Joker said as a women made the tiger that was there lay on its stomach before she put her foot on top of the tiger.

"Beast!" He exclaimed and the crowd cheered and clapped. "That must be scary right Claude?" Alois asked and Claude just simply nodded his head. "Last, but not least, our most elegant horse rider!" Joker said perking Alois's interests.

You came out of the entrance in the back of the circus while on a beautiful white horse which instantly started running around on the far part of the circle. Joker had a wip in hand as he followed where you and the horse were going. Every so often you'd get off the horse and followed it before getting back on but backwards with your hands spread outwards.

You flipped yourself off the horse again, but laid on your back this time with one hand out and quickly sat back up but backwards before doing the same thing, but on your stomach. Eventually as the horse rode around the circle you stood up on it and blew kisses to the crowd. "And what do you think of him, my lord?" Claude asked. "He's beautiful.." Alois mumbled as he watched you in awe. "But he has a prosthetic leg, my lord." Claude said with a raised brow.

"So? That doesn't change anything!" Alois said to him, not taking his eyes off you once. You made direct eye contact with Alois and blew him a kiss with a smile making his face heat up rather quickly. You sat back down on the horse as it started to slow down and that's when the entrance re-opened. You turned your head to face Alois and waved him a small bye.

"That concludes the rest of our show ladies and gents! I can't wait to see you all here on our next show!" Joker announced and that's when everyone that performed came back on stage and bowed.

"He truly is outstanding.."

#alois trancy #alois black butler #Alois x male reader #alois x reader #Alois x you #Alois x y/n #fiction #anime #fluff #male reader #black butler x male reader #black butler

[torchwood-99]

Does Eowyn continue to fight after the war?

Whether or nor Eowyn ever picks up her sword again after the war is a rather contentious question. Her decision to no longer be a Shieldmaiden after falling in love with Faramir inevitably puts readers in mind of the history of women giving up their careers when they marry, or the tropes of feminists who defy gender roles learning the error of their ways through the love of a good man.

After everything Eowyn has been through trying to prove her worth as a warrior, after having her wishes denied over and over, after having it spelled out to us why this denial caused Eowyn such despair, and after her great victory on the field, it's right that this is a bit of a sore spot.

This is fairly mitigated by the fact that Faramir, also a skilled soldier, never fails to recognise Eowyn's worth as a fighter and often speaks to her as one soldier to another, too wishes to live a life of peace away from battle, it's a mutual desire for them both. That being a healer; whether literal or metaphorical, is a role also taken on by powerful characters like Aragorn and Elrond. And the overall theme of choosing growth and healing over death is at the heart of the series, and Eowyn's arc is in accordance with that.

However, we know from Tolkien's extended writings that there is still work to be done in Ithilien, that military might will need to be put to good use for Ithilien to grow and heal. The question is, does Eowyn play a part in that?

Character wise, it makes sense for her to do so. She is skilled, she and Faramir plan to embark on growing a garden in Ithilien (healing it) together as equals, the text vindicates her desire to be able to go out and fight and "perform deeds" over and over. While her death wish was not vindicated, her right to live a life beyond the walls of her house, to be able to confront the dangers in her land instead of being left behind to wait, which is utterly at odds with her nature, very much is. And it's made clear that the denial of her true nature was one of the causes for her death wish.

Eowyn wanted glory and death. She got glory, forever renowned for her great deeds, she didn't get death.

However, this quote is often used to confirm that Eowyn never fought again.

“I will be a shieldmaiden no longer, nor vie with the great Riders, nor take joy only in the songs of slaying. I will be a healer,”

Eowyn's renunciation of the role of shieldmaiden does make it seem like she has no intention of picking up her sword again. However, just because she isn't a shieldmaiden doesn't necessarily mean she never fights or picks up a sword again. Not when she lives in a land where to heal means also needing to fight.

She gives up her role as shieldmaiden to take on a new one; not as Faramir's wife and adjunct, but as a healer. The quote above has the two roles stand in contrast. Shieldmaiden, warrior, whose purpose is to bring death, who strives for a glorious end in battle. Healer, whose purpose is to fix things and bring life. I think that this quote is less about Eowyn foreswearing the sword entirely, and more about her no longer centring her dreams and identity around bringing death and being a death seeker, and instead around someone bringing life.

But why do I think that Eowyn still retains a warrior like part to her personality, why I think she plans to channel those skills for healing purposes rather than getting rid of them entirely? It's this line here, often overlooked, but with a single word seems quite revelotary.

"nor take joy only in the songs of slaying"

It's the "only".

Eowyn didn't say she wouldn't take joy in the songs of slaying, but that she wouldn't take joy only in the songs of slaying. That indicates that she will still take joy in those songs, the songs she grew up on of brave warriors and bold deeds, but she will take joy in other songs too. That part of her still exists, but she no longer feels it's the sum of her entire existence. It's a part of her that works in accordance with her also having a desire to find love and peace and bring healing to others.

I very much think Eowyn still fights after the war, when called to. But now she is fighting for life, not glorious death.

#Lotr #Lord of the Rings #Eowyn #meta

[wasitapossum]

Life series characters as oh hellos songs?? Count me in.

Jimmy-

Song: cold

Why?: jimmy is always the first to die. We can all agree he’s tired of being the first left behind.

Quote: “well I’m not quite ready, to turn to bone. To petrify the shred of life I’m holding onto.”

Scar-

Song: constellations

Why?: I was really torn between giving him or grian this one, but thinking about it scar really does try to look at the positive of every situation he was given in the series and that’s why I settled for him. Even with grians slight betrayal in double life, scar never showed the slightest resentment towards him, only wondered why it wasn’t him who made him happy. He’s selfless to the core and that has always been his downfall.

Quote: “the shapes that you drew may change beneath a different light. And everything you thought you knew will fall apart, but you’ll be alright.

Martyn-

Song: where is your rider?

Why?: I added two quotes to get my point across. The first quote in reference to his relationship with grian in last life, how he was tasked with killing him by the watchers but not sure why. The second is in reference to his time being rens right hand as well as thinking grian was being manipulated by red scar during third life. It speaks for itself

Quote #1: “see your face wasn’t quite as I remember, but I know that wicked shape to your smile.”

Quote #2: “and as the stone founders underneath the sundered sea of red and reed. The shadow of hades is fading. For he has cast down leviathan, the tyrant, and the horse and rider.”

Grian-

Song: passerine

Why?: grians character is an interesting case, despite being green (or yellow) half the time he always acts more red than anyone else. There is no differentiating green grian from red grian as they both act the exact same, except once red grian feels free to stop holding back, yet his mannerisms are the same. Being green is like a shackle to him, holding him back from giving into his desire for chaos. And resulting because of that is the downfall of those who care about him.

Quote: “I find that we have fewer and fewer in kind, but my palms still reek of gasoline from throwing fuel to the fire of that Greco-Roman dream.”

(Alternative song: dear wormwood

Why?: the watchers man, it always comes back to the watchers. But they’re only really canon in Martyns part so that’s why it’s the alternative, this one’s more au-ish. The reason for this song though is because grian always defied the watchers and he was punished for it.

Quote: “I know who you are now, I name you my enemy.”)

Pearl-

Song: zephyrus

Why?: her double life really painted a new picture for her character in terms of giving so much depth to that feeling of loss and trying to make amends that it drives you to do things you wouldn’t otherwise do in a more stable mind set. And how it’s so hard to heal from it and realize that you’re in the wrong. It takes pearl awhile to slow down and by the time she does it’s already too late. I’m just psychoanalyzing at this point but y’know.

Quote: “so let me meltdown like mountain glaciers. Break the bonds I’ve been holding into.”

Scott-

Song: rose

Why?: oh sweet Scott, always with the flower metaphors. His relationship with jimmy in third life and then his relationship with pearl in last and double life put a lot of tragedy on him, not being able to save the two people he had grown to care about and then deciding to forge his own path, yet still that wasn’t enough. The game will always find its way to break him down.

Quote: “no, love will get you slaughtered like a ram at the alter. What is safe ain’t the same as what is good. So lay compress to the aching of your body made for breaking, when we’ve got a lot of breaking left to do.”

Tango-

Song: boreas

Why?: his death in every series is always avoidable, and then in double life when he died not knowing what was going on, scared and alone just like all the other times. He wants his life to mean something, yet every time he’s left behind and betrayed by those he cared too much about.

Quote: “yea I’m one spoon away, from setting the ends of my hair on fire. If I’m kindling for a little while, at least I’ll feel of use.

If you made it this far, a special treat for you :) \/

Special pairing mention-

Scar + grian

Song: bitter water

Why?: bro I couldn’t not mention it, it’s just so… them. (Especially in double life)

Quote: “the terrible fire of old regret is honey on my tongue, and I know I shouldn’t love you.”

#hermitblr #grian #hermitcraft #double life #last life smp #third life smp #desert duo #double life smp #hermitcraft season 9 #solidaritygaming #scott smajor #pearlecentmoon #the oh hellos #goodtimeswithscar #song analysis #inthelittlewood #tangotek #double life spoilers #trafficblr

[blood-injections]

Uuuh little western au in the works?? I have like half of a one shot but the more I think about it the more I’m tempted to make a full fic. But. I’m still working out how bli works and stuff if it’s still gonna be like futuristic or post apocalyptic even though the zones are like the old west?? Maybe it’s like they don’t have tech but BLi does idk. Or maybe I’ll just make an old west version of BLi. Maybe it’s a gang or something. Anyway the venom sibs are the best rodeo honeys(pickup riders) in the zones, but Kobra’s known more for racing while Poisons known more for bronc riding(…this whole idea definitely didn’t spawn from that “Let's just say I'm good at the rodeo, let's just say I'm good at riding the mechanical bull” incident…). Jet and Ghoul are basically siblings, have been since Jet took ghoul in after he was like orphaned or escaped bat city or whatever’s going to be bat city, and he started causing trouble, basically was a bandit. Jets a bartender and Ghoul lives with them now and helps out at the bar and watches the rodeo every week and pines relentlessly after Poison, who flirts with him whenever they come into the bar but ghoul is of course oblivious even though he flirts back?? It’s hard to explain but you probably get it. Show pony is idk a drag queen or something, Jets not so discreetly in love with them so she just lets them do whatever in the saloon for music/entertainment and oftentimes they go above and beyond. Cherris either like a sheriff if the zones end up becoming townlike but he’ll probably end up being Kobra’s racing rival and of course it’s a very homoerotic cowboy rivalry because what else would it be. And Doctor death defying is actually a doctor but he also mans the radio still. Obviously I’m still working out the details for the au but. Obsessed with it.

#transfem saloon bartender Jet Star my beloved.. I am drawing her for you all as we speak #kobracola homoerotic cowboy rivalry supremacy #poisons a cocky bastard and ghouls a smartass #danger days #my chemical romance #ttlotfk #mcr danger days #mcr #killjoys #party poison #fun ghoul #kobra kid #Jet Star #the true lives of the fabulous killjoys #danger days au #danger days headcanons #killjoy headcanons #corvidscrap #western dd au