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#ruler poppy
artmustdraw · 5 months
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The proportions are a bit off but idc I’m sleepy and NEEDED content so I made it myself and goodnight fellow broppy shippers XD (such a silly ship lol 🥹🥹)
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2dieavirgin · 11 months
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googling name meanings/origins and vibrating at unfathomable speeds. for example, gregory means watchful or alert. and i am being very normal about this fact.
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Primas pt.1
Jack= Sky Jack
Miyako= Memory Ice
Hanako= Tired Birth
Satru= Slippery Naga
Poppy= Thriving Poppy
Limu= River Mountain
Caicais= Mountain River
Monsoo= Tempest-Ray
Onyx= Dawn Phoenix
Drak= Lizard Ruler
Kizdo= Lizard Hunt
Mete= After Grim
Orion= Star King
Ophelia= Song Bird
Artemis= Moon Angel
Dipper= Dip-stelation
Apollo= Sun Angel
Umbra= Shadow Queen
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If Poppy is a triplet then how come we haven't seen the other sister besides Viva? Also would that make them fraternal triplets?
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smallfire · 2 years
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also some more stuff i never posted... moving mountains is my love
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en8y · 28 days
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[IMAGE ID: three horizontal flags with nine stripes; each flag has the poppy playtime logo in the center. the middle stripe is twice as large as the rest of them, which are equally sized. the left flag has these top three colors: dark indigo, medium purple, and gold. the middle flag has these top three colors: dark red, dark pink, and gold. the right flag has these top three colors: dark indigo, dark pink, and gold. each flag has these bottom six stripes: dark red, off-white, dull blue, bright pink, bright yellow, and bright green. END ID.]
popplaytimeror: a gender connected to being a poppy playtime emperor; this gender is connected to poppy playtime, aesthetics associated with the game, emperor aesthetics, hedonistic aesthetics, and masculine pleirhood!
popplaytimeress: a gender connected to being a poppy playtime empress; this gender is connected to poppy playtime, aesthetics associated with the game, empress aesthetics, hedonistic aesthetics, and feminine pleirhood!
impopplaytimec: a gender connected to being a poppy playtime imperial ruler; this gender is connected to poppy playtime, aesthetics associated with the game, imperial ruler aesthetics, hedonistic aesthetics, and pleirhood!
@radiomogai @liom-archive @obscurian @drowntowns @neopronouns
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aeors-blessings · 5 months
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Navigation
;; the cold wind blows (scenes) ;; fresh quills and parchment (in-character messages) ;; the sovereign listens (asks) ;; a godly voice (ooc) ;; a city designed (memes) ;; rumours in the street (headcanons) ;; snowflakes from on high (reblogs)
;; the ocean awaits (lizzie) [@oceans-blessings] ;; marsh flowers (e1!jimmy) [] ;; shining crytals (gem) [@frozen-arcana] ;; sunflower maiden (pearl) [@saintedhands] ;; the painted king (joel) [@mezalean-mezzatinta] ;; poppy fields and gold mines (e2!jimmy) [@buryyourcanaries] ;; a god self-chosen (somnius) [@daydreamnightmares] ;; a champion scorned (tommy) [@friendoftubbo] ;; a fallen ruler (tubbo) [@presidentofacrater] ;; a soldier unchained (punz) [@loyaltiesmaylie] ;; a dying artisan (wilbur) [@symphoniecalando] ;; an angel sacrosanct (phil) [@oblitusglacies]
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coccinelle-claire · 5 months
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Something that stuck out to me (and I went back to double check) is that Poppy is never introduced as Queen.
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Like, maybe John Dory put two-and-two together after she referred to (former) King Peppy as "Dad" but still-
And it's the same when they find Bruce, Clay, and Viva! (Side tangent, does this mean that Viva was intended to be the future Queen? And since she was presumed dead, it went to Poppy?)
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To Viva, Poppy is just her little sister who survived. So she wants to keep her safe. She doesn't know Poppy is the ruler now.
It's wild to me that, while they were trying to leave, there wasn't one line like, "I'm Queen of Troll village now, Viva. I can't just abandon our people."
(Instead of the cameo reveal, I would like to imagine this is Branch's brother's reactions if they realized that their baby brother is dating a Queen.)
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evielmostdefinitely · 5 months
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Hi!! I love your snow fics! I would love to see more of them on the tour through the districts
treat me rough |young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader|
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prompt: as requested above, more honeymoon smut :) also the title is from the song treat me rough by ella fitzgerald which just reminds me of coriolanus and reader haha.
contains: smut 18+. dom!coriolanus and sub! (kinda bratty) reader. possessive, controlling, mean/hard dom!coryo. dom/sub themes. bratting. spanking / pussy slapping (with hand). pinvsex.
“You’re pleased with yourself, aren’t you?” Coriolanus growled through gritted teeth, a firm hand on your bicep dragging you to the train’s station. 
You bit back a smile, trying to hide the giddy excitement you felt. Your devious little plan had worked. 
It had been nearly a week since your wedding, since the start of the tour from district to district. A makeshift of a honeymoon that you agreed to. Was it ideal? Not entirely, but at least you’d be together through most of it, Coryo had promised. 
He’d failed to mention his countless meetings and obligations that took up most of his time. When he’d finally return to the carriage, shoulders slumped and eyes heavy, you’d be waiting in your lingerie, obediently on your knees ready to stuff his length down your throat. He’d let you, of course, but other than a half hearted fucking- you were left unsatisfied. 
You knew he was tired. You knew he was stressed and anxious about becoming the President of Panem. But this was your honeymoon. A start to the rest of your life, and if this was any indicator of how your life would change, especially in the bedroom, you were far from interested. 
By District Four, you’d had enough. You knew better than to pick a fight with Coriolanus, it would only frustrate him and he’d be likely to ignore you out of pure spite- he’d done it before. Instead, you hatched a plan. 
At the end of each day at the Districts, you and Coriolanus would join the Mayor and his spouse for tea. You and Coryo would never drink it, of course, he was paranoid about being poisioned by the rebels, but you’d sit and discuss formalities amongst the four of you. 
The Shefland’s were hospitable, a lavish house that sat near the lake where they could oversee their working people- you knew Coriolanus was pleased. They offered you a seat in their sun room, at a small, round table where they offered up Earl Grey and finger foods. Coryo and Mayor Shefland talked rebels, Peacekeepers, and other droning business, while you and the Mayor’s spouse sat obediently. 
For now. 
You placed your hand on Coryo’s thigh, simple and unsuspecting. He looked over at you, patting your hand affectionately, joining the conversation. Your cheeks flamed with daring adrenaline, staring at the poppy seed pastry in front of you, your hand sliding slowly up Coriolanus’ fine trousers. You’d start slow, enough to have him convinced you were doing it innocently, before starting up again. His breath hitched once, a firm squeeze to your hand, shoving it down his thigh towards his knee. 
The cut of his eyes, an icy side glance, you knew you were teetering on dangerous territory, but still not where you wanted to be. Coriolanus would chastise you at most, scold you and maybe take a ruler to your palms, but that wasn’t what you wanted. 
And you always got what you wanted. 
Your hand moved, boldly, resting right on his crotch. Coriolanus’ breath hitched, faltering just for a moment, before you squeezed his length lightly through the fabric, palming his length. Coryo cleared his throat, cheeks burning with embarrassment. 
You frowned, brows creased in concern. “Darling, are you alright?” You hummed innocently, leaning forward, pressing further into his crotch. 
“Yes,” Coryo hissed, eyes narrowing at you. He cleared his throat, apologizing politely to the mayor, shoving your hand off his length, pressing it into your own lap with a warning squeeze to your thigh. 
You pressed your thighs together, practically squirming in your seat. It worked. Coryo was furious at your blatant brattiness, in a way you hadn’t seen since you first started dating, and it filled you with bubbling excitement. 
Coriolanus hadn’t stayed long after that, curtly thanking the Shefland’s a hand on your back, leading you towards the car. He’d contemplated yanking you over his knee right there, the driver be damned, maybe it’d embarrass you. Instead, he kept his composure until you were alone, dragging you into the private carriage of the train. 
“I should call the Academy. Tell them to refund your father, because clearly they failed to teach you any etiquette.” Coriolanus sneered, shoving you lightly into the train, latching the carriage door behind him. 
“What are you talking about, sweetheart?” You cooed innocently, nearly taunting. Coryo's fists tightened. “I thought I behaved very well for the Shefland’s-” 
“-For the Shefland’s.” Coriolanus snapped, taking a dangerous step towards you, towering over you. “But you don’t answer to the Shefland’s, you answer to me.” 
Your knees wobbled at his tone, eyes narrowed and jaw clenched. His hand caught your chin easily, squeezing your jaw, fingers pressing into your cheeks, pulling your gaze up to him. “You know better.” Coryo growled. “You know better, and you still behaved that way.” 
You whined, his fingers curling tighter around your face. “You know how you act for me, how I expect you to behave.” Coriolanus sneered. “And you know what happens when you don’t.” The lingering threat in his tone had you throbbing painfully between your knees. 
Still, you whined in protest, wiggling to move out of his grip- defiant and bratty, just how you knew Coriolanus liked it. He loved breaking a brat, loved putting you in your place, though he’d never admit it. 
“They didn’t see, Coryo.” You huffed, a roll of your eyes that had him bristling, jaw clenched so tight he was sure his teeth might crack. “It’s our honeymoon, and you’ve been ignoring me.” You whined, a petulant pout that had his cock stirring. 
“Oh?” His tone was dangerous, teetering on amused and sinister. “That’s what this is about?” You whined, trying to wiggle out of his grip. “You acted like this because I’ve been ignoring you?” 
“I was just trying to get you excited.” You muttered, avoiding his hard gaze. “You’ve barely been with me, and-and we haven’t had sex in days and it’s our honeymoon, Coryo!” 
“Days?” Coriolanus scoffed. “We had sex this morning.” 
“Barely.” You muttered, his fingers tightening around you, jerking you towards him. 
“I’ve had enough.” Coriolanus snapped, voice booming, bouncing off the walls of the train’s carriage. You shrunk under his gaze, eyes rounded pleadingly. “You want my attention so badly, you impish little brat, then you have it.” His hand moved from your jaw, and for a moment, you were relieved- until it found its way to your hair, wrapping around your locks and tugging at the scalp. 
You whined, clawing at his wrist as he pulled you roughly towards the bed, sitting on the edge, hauling you over his knee. “Completely uncalled for, touching me like that.” Coriolanus snarled, roughly shoving the hem of your dress up over the swell of your ass. 
Your hands reached back, trying to push your dress back down. Coryo’s hands wrapped around your wrist, pinning it to the small of your back. “I should bind you.” Coryo spat bitterly, his hands squeezing around your wrist for emphasis. “Should take you out to the center of town and tie you to the whipping post. Show everyone how I handle my disobedient wife.” 
You shuddered at the thought, legs clamping together. Coryo’s brows lifted in amusement, hand smoothing over the bare skin of your ass. “You’d like that, wouldn't you? Filthy.” His hand fell heavy on your upturned ass, without a warning, a resounding clap! filling the air and leaving you breathless. 
“You will behave.” Coriolanus gritted, hand punctuating each syllable of the words with a stinging smack, satisfied at how you whined and wriggled in his grasp. “I will not have a disobedient, needy, bratty wife. Do you understand?”  
Your silence only infuriated him further, two hard spanks falling to the center of your bottom. “Do you understand?” 
“Yes, yes,” You panted, head swimming with a whirlpool of emotions- pain, pleasure, embarrassment, and blinding need. “Please, Corio.” Your hips raised, back arching low to reveal your puffy, wet lips, throbbing with need. 
Coryo’s cock was stiff, mouth watering at the sight. He longed to bury his face in your pussy, push your head into the pillows and devour you- but you didn’t earn it, not yet anyways. 
Instead, he grabbed you by your waist, letting you fall on your back into the soft duvet with a bounce, whining at the fabric brushing your inflamed skin. “Spread those legs.” Coriolanus’ eyes were dark, lust filled and dangerous. 
You parted your legs obediently, watching him carefully above you. His gaze on your pussy, tongue running over his bottom lip mindlessly. “Keep those spread or I won’t touch you at all tonight.” 
You whimpered at his threat, hands hooking under your kneecaps to spread your legs apart, on display for him. Coryo knelt between your legs, working the buttons of his shirt open until it fell open. You ogled at his toned chest, mouth filling with spit at the sight. 
“I think I need to get to the root of this issue.” Coriolanus hummed, tossing his shirt to the side. “You’ve been acting bad because of her, haven't you?” 
Your thighs squeezed, legs starting to close before he stopped you, a warning glare that had you shrinking. “What did I tell you? You don’t want me to touch you at all?” 
You shook your head. “N-No, Sir.” 
Coriolanus seemed pleased at the use of his favorite name, ego inflating at the title. He didn’t think you’d call him that so soon, so easily. Usually he had to push you a little further, until you were needy and desperate for him before you’d call him that. 
“I think I need to spank her.” Coryo’s eyes stayed on yours, kneeling between your legs. “Since she doesn’t know how to behave.”  
You whimpered, nails digging into the skin of your knees, watching him carefully. His eyes on yours, hand raising before it fell, not nearly as hard as the punishing spanks to your ass, but a stinging slap to your mound. One right after the other until he hit five, the last a particularly hard one over your clit that had your hips jolting and writhing. 
You spent the better half of the night, head lolling over the edge of the bed while Coriolanus shoved his cock down your throat, fucking your face until you gagged and cried and begged to be touched. When he finally did touch you, ass raised high, hands folded behind your back while he rode you, fucking you with a punishing vigor in front of the mirror. You drooled on the edge of the bed, whining and whimpering pitifully with every orgasm he pulled from you until he was finally spilling over your abused ass. 
The meeting with the Mayor of District Five was uncomfortable. You shifted in your seat at tea, grimacing behind tight smiles. Coriolanus bit back his own smirk, proud of his handimark that was undoubtedly the cause for your sudden obedience and clinginess. He rewarded you for being so well mannered by letting you sit on his face that night, devouring you while you rode his mouth and nose, hands gripping those golden locks you adored, your wedding ring scratching at his scalp.
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tantei-chan01 · 3 months
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So, the different Tribes... they all love Branch. Not just because he and Poppy saved music, but because he was able to do that while also being mute and Grey. And you can bet the royals will be hearing about Brozone at some point, if only because Branch is probably gonna have more noticeable injuries from the confrontation with Velvet and Veneer (Velvet literally backhanded him, he tiny that had to have hurt and potentially broke bones) and also because there's suddenly these 4 strangers surrounding their favorite pop troll.
Barb totally breaks JD's nose.
When the group returns to pop village, Poppy immediately calls the other tribes to tell them about what happened and to be wary in case something like this happens again.
The rulers get there quickly along with their best doctors to make sure they're all OK. JD, Bruce, and Clay seem to be fine, if a little dizzy and fatigued. Floyd's condition was more concerning. He's going to need physical therapy and time to get back to how he was. His hair, though, will most likely continue to have white at the roots.
Branch had few bruised ribs and exhaustion, but nothing too serious.
Trollex and Trolzart are disappointed with the brothers after hearing what happened, but ultimately respected Branch's feelings, so they weren't chewed out too harshly.
Barb, on the other hand, immediately tried to attack them, getting a good hit on JD before Sid Fret could hold her back. It's going to be a while for her to trust them with her unofficial brother.
Delta was surprisingly cordial with them, saying she's disappointed but will give them a chance to redeem themselves. This is mostly because she and JD used to date before they mutually decided to break up.
Essence and Quincy sensed there were many unresolved traumas they were suppressing and offered to help them get in contact with a good family therapist. Each of them obviously have issues to work through, Bruce has fewer issues thanks to Brandy's ever loving support.
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artmustdraw · 5 months
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THEYRE SO FUCKING ADORABLE also Ik poppy doesn’t typically have a choker but 😳 if they’re a queen they’re a QUEEN
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barbieaemond · 5 months
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A snake in the bosom
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Moodboard by the queen herself @zae5
PAIRING: Prince Regent Aemond x Lady!reader
WARNINGS: dark Aemond, angst, public humiliation, semi public sex, p in v, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), religious kink, knife kink if you squint, overstimulation, light choking.
WORD COUNT: 5.3k
Author’s note: House Peake were green loyalists during the Dance. Shout out to @zae5 who helped me brain storming this filth 🫶
taglist: @zae5 @multyfangirl @chompchompluke
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The skies rumble as they always do when preluding a storm. But it’s different this time. The thunder echoes in your chest, sliding through your ribs and then rattling them to break free.
A warning, the Gods’ way to seal what cannot be undone. They greet this new day, this new order, with blinding lightning. The Wood seems bathed by the early morning light, and yet the owls will soon resume their sentry task on the branches of these ancient trees.
A new flash forces you to look up and you think you can see them, the Seven, leaning out from their perches, pointing a finger at a woman like any other, with her bowed head devoted to obedience and her tight corset to choke to death any desire inside her heart.
And you did.
You stopped going to the library, you kept your eyes faithfully down, weeding out the need to caress the silver through your gaze, to feel the cold alabaster carved into angles so precise and sharp as to be exhausting.
You stopped lingering on the delicacy of long white fingers turning pages, on white knuckles around the sword, rippling with veins, blue and green as snakes crawling underneath. 
Not looking didn't do much good.
It's all burned into your eyelids, and the more you don't look the more your mind betrays you like a stab in the back, evoking slender hands and an arched mouth that lazily pulls itself up into an omniscient smirk.
It happens so often that you've come to terms with it. Desire is a shadow that follows you step by step, crawls into your bed as you lie with your husband, makes you close your eyes as you peak and in the darkness that shadow is finally flesh, pulsing and weighing on you, but it is not.
It shouldn’t and it will never.
The lightning tells you can no longer hide, there is no way to stall now, no way to trick the King about the allegiance of your family. It is easy to fool a fool, more so when he’s willing to make himself one in front of a woman. But the King is burned. His cries of pain can be heard outside Maegor’s Holdfast, until the Maesters are merciful enough to give him milk of the poppy.
The throne is empty, the Kingdom has no ruler. But the Gods are snickering with thrill and dread.
Not for long.
“My lady, there’s a storm coming.”
You turn and see your maid clutching a cloak to her chest to shelter from the wind. "Please, you should go back inside.”
You nod tiredly, walking on the thick grass, dragging yourself back within these walls in which days seem to pass following two different times.
There’s the real, urgent one, a military up and down of whispers and promises, pawns moving and ravens coming and going, breaking or forging alliances as easy and quick as their wings flapping. And then there’s your time, dilated, obscenely slow, like molasses. It sticks to your fingers, prevents you from picking up ink and parchment and write, cheat, whisper what you have easily spilled from the worn out lungs of your husband.
“Men sing like parrots in their final throes, remember that. They’d tell you anything when they think with their cock.”
Samantha had been right. But your sister is playing her game in Oldtown and Old Town is not the Red Keep. There are no eyes on the walls there, or ears behind the portraits. There’s no shadow trailing on her path, clouding her mind enough to look away from the game. A game of life and death, your father reminded you in his last letter, the scolding clear in the way the feather had pierced the parchment in some points. The answer was nowhere but in your head, and you were too ashamed to even confess it to a Septa, let alone put it on paper. There’s a snake crawling in your garden of lies and instead of chasing it away, you’re nursing it in your bosom.
You slow your steps upon glimpsing your husband. He’s striding towards you along the corridor. There’s a slight furrow between his brows, one that you have been able to recognize on the faces of many within this fortress. But it's more severe now, or maybe it's just that shadow that makes you see a new man, a stranger.
Has his hair always been that dull and mousy? Has his posture always been so unassuming?
They have since that night in the library, the sin whispers.
“Husband.”
“I’ve been looking for you. We have been summoned to the throne room.”
“Is something the matter? Is the King—"
"The King lives. But the Maesters believe it is best to confine him to bed. Come, Prince Aemond is waiting for us." he grabs your arm and you walk with him, glad that he can’t see the shadow falling on your face at the mention of the King’s brother.
The throne room is so dark that servants are hurrying themselves to light more candles. Every now and then a new lightning flashes from the large windows, making the Iron Throne an eerie sight at the center of the Hall.
There are a few Lords of the court with their ladies, and they seem just as lost as you as they see you and your husband halting before the ancient seat.
Whereas not more than a moon ago, Lords and Ladies would have had to wait hours to be received by Aegon, the new ruler is not long in coming.
The huge doors open and Aemond Targaryen stalks the room carrying the same storm breaking outside. He makes a striking figure, ominous; the lighting pours on his long silver hair making them look like moon rays.
A dreamy picture, were it not for the conqueror's crown on his head and the sapphire in plain sight.
It is the first time you see him without the eyepatch, the first time anyone has seen him without it. They said he wore it so as not to frighten the ladies, but the one-eyed Prince is done hiding. And if fear is all he can muster, so be it. It serves him well for what will come.
He halts before the Iron Throne and takes a good look at the little gathering. You can’t help but trail your eyes on his lean and tall figure, wearing a dark green doublet made of velvet. But it’s the sapphire that catches your eye, and the long scar marring his marbled face.
You remember that one. You remember it shamefully clear while disappearing along with his head beneath your gown.
“My lords” he starts lacing his hands behind his back “As you may know, my brother is in no condition to rule. Thus, according to the law, in case of physical or mental incapacity of the sovereign, the younger brother must bear the weight of the crown.”
There is a shy, almost uneasy passing of glances between those present, but Aemond ignores them altogether. “I will not style myself as King. You will address me as Prince Regent and Protector of the Realm."
Silence falls upon the huge Hall until a loud thunder seem to awaken one of the lords who hurriedly bends his knee before the Prince. "My Prince, I renew my absolute loyalty to you and your—“
"Get up, my Lord, I did not summon you to hear you pledge your loyalty.” He says in a bored tone, darting his eye at the man “Rest assured, if I had any doubt about it, Vhagar would be feasting on your corpse as we speak.”
Silence falls once more and Aemond revels in it. He can smell fear, just like the creature he rides. “But you did raise an interesting subject.” he tilts his head and looks at Lord Peake, your husband, with a benevolent expression stretching on his face. “Lord Peake, if I asked you to pledge your loyalty to me and my family, would you do it?”
You dare not to raise your head, keeping your eyes glued to the ground, but you can sense your husband’s uneasiness, the sound close to one being insulted as he addresses the Prince. “Prince Aemond, my loyalty to your Grandsire and the Dowager Queen has never wavered and it never shall.”
The Prince nods slowly, seemingly pleased by the answer, and keeps his gaze down for a few moments before casting a sharp glance at you. You can’t see it but you can feel it.
“That is very noble of you, Lord Peake. But I can’t help but wonder, is your lady wife of the same mind as you?”
Lord Peake looks puzzled, shifting the weight on his feet “My Prince, my wife is—”
“No.” Aemond cuts him off, darting a single look at the Lord before returning on you “Let her speak.”
With a deep breath, you look up, shrinking under his violet eye and the sapphire ominously glinting of his own light. “My prince, I am saddened that your Grace would think I’m nothing but loyal to your brother, the one and only heir to the Seven Kingdoms. Every day, I pray the Gods to heal him from his burns and give him strength to—”
“Hush.” He says, raising a hand to stop you. “That’s enough.”
You shut your mouth nervously, tensing all the more as he looks at you, unblinking, for a long moment before his lips stretch into a slow, cunning smirk.
“You know, I spoke to your distant cousin once, Lord…something Tyrell. He said something very interesting to me.”
You keep a blank face even when dread starts to run down your spine. Despite the distant kinship, there’s always been bad blood between Tarlys and Tyrells. 
“He said to be very careful with Tarly women. Pretty vapid things, he said, hiding a viper’s bite.”
“I am neither my prince.” you state calmly “I’m just a woman like any other, serving my husband, my house, my King.”
“Hmm.” He ponders, the smile lingering still. Then, he picks something form his pocket and asks “What is this then?”
Despite the darkness, you could recognize that seal with eyes closed. And that seal, now, in this room, clutched by Prince Aemond’s fingers, is a death sentence.
“This is not the seal of House Peake.” he rightly says.
You look down, mustering your courage, and say “No, your Grace. That is just a silly token of love between two sisters. I use it to send ravens to my sister in Oldtown.”
“I see. And why do you hide it?”
“I do not, your Grace.”
“Lying to the King may cost your head, my Lady. You’d do well to remember that.”
“Wife…” your husband takes your arm, searches your face with an anxious stare “What is going on?”
“The White cloaks found it.” The Prince informs him “when I made them search your rooms.” He looks back at you and raises an eyebrow “For a token you’re supposed to be so fond of, I may suggest placing it somewhere else than the bottom of an old trunk.”
“Am I on trial for sending letters to my sister?”
“Yes. Considering the circumstances under which these ravens were sent. Ladies give letters to their maids, they do not go personally to the rookery, more so in the hour of the bat.”
Courage leaves you like a gust of wind. You thought you had been clever, careful. Why would anyone take notice of a court lady simply taking a walk in the early hours? And even if they had, they would have dismissed the thought at the first distraction. But not him.
“You think I would not notice? I may be half blind but I can assure you, my lady, I see everything.”  He throws the seal on the ground and resumes his soldier-like posture, standing tall and domineering with his arms laced back. “What did you tell your sister? Knowledge about our war plans? Are you secretly siding with the Blacks? I’d advise you to choose your words carefully. From them depends whether you’ll see the next dawn or not.”
Your shoulders slump a little, like a doomed creature sticking its head in the noose.
“My father asked me to spy on my husband to gather knowledge about the green army at Rook’s Rest. But I did not send any raven. I stopped since—"
“Since what? Do continue, my lady, I think your Lord husband is keen to know why his wife stopped playing him like a fool.” He leans his head forward, like someone desperately willing to hear a big secret, but your tongue is a dead thing in your mouth.
“No?” he inquires as silence stretches “Fine, I’ll tell you. You see, Lord Peake, recently your Lady wife seemed to have developed a sudden interest in the library.” the prince says with a little grin “I’m aware of this because I am myself an avid reader. In fact, your lady wife and I have been keeping each other company lately. A rather…intimate company.”
Some of the ladies start to whisper at your back, and you know what kind of words they’re labeling you.
“Wife.” Your husband calls, and this time his voice is steel “What is the meaning of this?”
You open and close your mouth, unsure whether it is worse to tell your husband how you’ve played him or to confess your sin.
“Come, don't deny it now.” the Prince goads you “All the hours you've spent, all those late nights did bear fruit, did they not? You've betrayed your house and the Crown, yet what sweetness it was to have gotten a taste, I'm sure your husband would agree.”
Lord Peaks looks utterly bewildered, shifting his gaze between you and the Prince like a dead fish.
“Oh, so he hasn't after all.” Aemond laughs “A pity, for your treacherous essence reeks of the most bittersweet nectar. Tart, but delicious.”
Your husband’s face is whiter than a sheet for a moment, followed by a red veil of anger and shame. The latter is in plain sight in the way you keep your head down; the Gods have stopped pointing their finger at you and left you in the claws of a much crueler creature. Namely, your own desire.
 “Search her.” Aemond orders returning to a stern face “And search her thoroughly.”
“My prince?” asks one of the guards.
“Women can be sneaky with all those veils and layers. Lose the corset.”
The cloaks look at him puzzled, just as you and your husband and anyone else in the room, but the guards know better than to disobey the King. 
One of them goes to stand behind you and starts pulling the laces of your dress, another is busying himself with lowering your sleeves.
Your eyes bore to the ground with the purest humiliation as your chest gradually grows exposed. You could raise your hands to hide your breast, but you have nothing to hide, not anymore.
You know it and Aemond knows too. He’s not doing this because he thinks you’re hiding something. He’s doing so for his own pleasure—to see you bare, to finally make you come out of your den and stop hiding from him. 
You dare not look at him but you can feel his eye lingering on you, on your body; you can sense the ghost of a delighted smirk on that wicked mouth. 
He takes an unreasonably long time before he gives a short nod to the guards, at last satisfied with your public humiliation. What drives your husband to move is not regard for you, but for his own dignity. What are women if not property of men? And however ruined you are now, Lord Peake will not have talk of his wife standing with her breasts out in the Throne Room.
But just as he leans down to you, the Prince speaks “You may go, Lord Peake. All of you.”
The Lord stalls, looking lost at his Prince.
“You can wait outside. She stays.” Aemond commands.
His eye is boring into you as he walks down the few steps with leisure, lingering on the sole of his boot before resting it on the ground. “She needs to learn the price of her disobedience.”
Your husband hesitates, looks at you with lingering disdain and a veil of fear that keeps his eyes wide open, but he can only bow his head.
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When you’re left alone the Prince, save for the guards on the four sides of the hall, you dare to look up and see his eye blazing, a cunning edge to it.
He starts circling around you, and what’s left of your dignity makes your hands fly up to cover your chest.
“You said you stopped writing to your sister. And you stopped coming to the library.” he starts with a collected and calm voice. “Why?”
“You know why.” you mutter.
“You better drop this condescending tone if you want to leave this room with your head on your shoulders.”
“Apologies, my Prince. I did not mean to offend you. But I dim you wise enough to understand why I thought it was best to keep my distance from you.”
He stops his circling for a moment “Enlighten me.” and then he’s pacing again.
You swallow, smelling ashes and smoke on his trail. “It was a sin.”
“Hmm. Which one?” He asks somewhere behind you. Out the corner of your eye, you see him slightly leaning towards you, silver rolling past his shoulder as he cocks his head to one side “Your betrayal or the fact that you let me feast on your cunt like a common whore?”
You swallow again. Shame is still coiling in your belly, but there’s also something else on hearing those words coming from his mouth, recalling that night. This man has just humiliated you in front of the court and yet you crave for him to get closer.
“Both.”
“Both?”
“I did not want to.” You say and it’s true. And this, this is the last chance you might have to avoid the pike, or worse, Vhagar’s fangs. “My father forced me.” You say turning your head left and right as he resumes his pacing behind you “I don’t know which kind of deal he has struck with Prince Daemon but I swear it, my Prince, I said nothing about Rook’s Rest, I—“
The word dies on your tongue along with your breath as you feel the coldness of a sharp blade against your throat.
“I should slit your throat here and now.” He whispers dangerously, you can hear his teeth gritting. His arm is pressing on your chest, keeping you locked against him. “What else Lord Tarly ordered you in all his great wisdom? Mh? To seduce me? To play me like a fool, like you played my brother and your husband to gather knowledge about our armies and report it to my uncle and his whore?”
“No, I—" you try to say, but he presses the blade firmer and you choke a gasp, unconsciously grabbing his arm.
“You will speak when I say so.” He seethes, pulling your arm back with his other hand, painfully twisting your bone until a moan of pain escapes your mouth.
It awakens something inside him, something savage that makes him collide his body against yours “Hmm.” He coos darkly in your ear “This brings me back to that night.”
He swiftly twirls the dagger, sheathing the Valyrian steel, but his hand is quick to resume his caging, sliding on your half-covered breast, looking down your shoulders at your bare chest.
His fingers are cold as they slowly travel up, but they lick flames on your skin, making your nipples harden. “Do you remember, little snake? I do.” he runs the tip of his finger on the hard sensitive skin and you whimper softly “It was hard to forget the sounds you made.” He speaks to your neck, his breath scorching “I could hear them when I fucked my hand at night. You made me sin so many times. Was that part of the plan too? Did your father force you to moan my name while you peaked on my tongue?”
“Please…” you sob quietly, feeling fire nestling in your belly at the sound of his voice and the feeling of his bulge against your lower back.
“Do you moan like that when your husband fucks you? Mh?”
He wants an answer, and he pinches one of your nipples when you don’t please him.
“No…”
“No? I thought so.”
Your body reacts on his own, clenching for how his voice in your ear pools like liquid fire below your stomach. You can see his delighted smirk out of the corner of your eye. “You better speak now, little one. Not even the Gods can save you from the spike. Why would they? They turn their backs on traitors and sinners. And you dared to sin with a Kinslayer. You have only me to beg for mercy.”
“You don’t want to kill me.” You choke when his hand laces around your throat.
He would’ve done it already. He might still do it, but his pressing hardness on your back tells you otherwise.
“No. I have a better use for you.” he says squeezing your neck “I will make an example out of your treacherous mouth. They will look at you and be reminded of the mercy of my crown.”
He steps back and you have little time to catch your breath as he sits on the Iron Throne with the confidence of a God on his perch. The candles mix with lightnings, making the blue of the sapphire and the obsidian of the crown shimmer in a disturbing way.
He rests his arms along the forged swords, his long legs almost sprawled out on the ground. “Come and pledge your loyalty, my lady.”
Your heart hammers in your throat as you swallow. This is a game of life or death, but not now. Your two times have merged into a perpetual dizziness and you’re sinking into the claws of your desire like quicksand.
“No.” he admonishes with a voice like honey when you dare a step closer “On your knees. Like the sinner you are.”
You sink to the ground and his eye goes down with you, smirking with something savage flashing on his face. “Go ahead.” He says spreading his legs around you. “Take your blessing.”
You raise your hands slowly, close to his belt but when you start unbuckling it you find there’s no tremor in your fingers. And he’s too quick to notice. “You wanted this, do you?” he asks “Did you close your eyes and pretend to suck my cock instead of your husband’s?”
The buckles clink together as you finish the unbuckling but he suddenly leans over you, gripping your cheeks with a hold of iron.
“Answer me.”
“Yes.” You quickly, shamefully say.
The left edge of his mouth pulls up tiredly, omnisciently. “How? Like this?” In a blink his long fingers breach your mouth, hitting the back of your throat until you choke on them. He pulls them back just slightly, grazing your tongue, and he looks at you with a lustful blaze in his eye.
“Suck.” he orders, and you oblige, keeping your eyes on him as your mouth close around his two fingers, sucking gently and twirling your tongue around the skin.
“Hmm.” He croons with pleasure, leaving your mouth abruptly to lean back against the throne, sliding a little on the ancient seat to push his crotch before you. He makes haste of pulling his cock out, giving it a few tugs while he keeps looking at you, at the longing darkening your eyes and wetting your gowns.
You take hold of his hard hot length, all veiny and leaking from the tip and it’s only natural for you to close your lips around it. You have obscenely dreamed of this.
He lets out a loud gasp, gripping the throne with his hands as your head goes down, taking him all in. It hits the back of your throat with a lewd choking sound; you breathe through your nose, resuming your holy punishment once you have adjusted to length and girth, sucking hard and fast.
"Greedy little thing.” He praises with his eye growing heavy with pleasure “Easy. Easy, now.” he goads you to slow down, and you do, looking up to see him watching you closely, his lips parted, his breath slow and puffed.
“Fuck—” he curses, titling his head back but keeping his eye fixed on you. “See? This is the only good use for your cheating mouth. And you look so pretty.”
The ache between your legs is unbearable, you’re swollen and wet, you can feel your undergown dampening.
“Are you soaked for me, hmm? I bet you’re dripping all over the Conqueror’s swords.”
You have no way to answer as you keep bobbing your head up and down, a sinner worshipping her own sin.
“Open your mouth—wide” he orders and you do, drooling all over him as he starts to thrust harshly in your mouth.
“Yes. Like this, yes—fuck” He pumps in and out, bucking his hips, hitting your throat on and on while he moans helplessly and loudly, as only a King on his throne can.
“Hollow your cheeks.” And when you do it, something snaps inside him. He grabs your hair, pulling at the roots painfully while he keeps fucking your mouth frantically, choking your breath. But you don’t mind. This could be your last day, your last hour breathing. The snake is sucking at your bones and you welcome the poison.
“Enough.” he croaks when he was starting to breathe too fast, too close to the end. “Get up.”
Your knees ache as you pull yourself up but he’s so quick in lifting up your skirts and grabbing your waist to make you turn and sit on his lap, facing the Throne Room. The Guards are exactly where they’re supposed to be, blind and deaf to what they can perfectly see and hear.
“Let me give you my blessing, now.” Aemond says spreading your legs on the throne, making you wince as you feel his hot fingertips on your wet aching folds. “You’re soaked.” he states proudly, smiling with victory next to your ear.
He draws lazy circles on your bundle, sliding down your dripping lips, slowly, too slowly. You buck your hips against his hand and his chuckle travels up and down inside you, rattling your bones like thunder.
“Please…” you cry when his fingers brush your swollen lips once more.
“I should summon back your husband. So he’d see how his pretty wife begs to be fucked by her Prince like a whore. Shall I?”
You grab his hand, pressing it to your core and he dips a finger inside, spilling a loud moan from you that makes him bite your ear as he feels your hot walls clenching around him.
“Fine. We shall let him hear it.”
He brings his soaked fingers to your mouth, sticking them inside to make you taste yourself, and then he takes your wrist, trapping it on your stomach with his hand. He easily slides his cock inside you, moaning along with you into the haunting silence of the hall. His thrusts are deep and quick, desire has consumed him too, for too long. The sounds of flesh slapping against flesh are only barely muffled by your frantic gasps. Your eyes are closed in a painful bliss, his hot labored breath dampens your neck as he fills you to the hilt.
Your throat is sore with lack of air as you turn your head and he slams his mouth against yours, filling your mouth with his scorching tongue, biting your lip and sucking until it’s swollen. All of this while relentlessly rutting into you, giving you violent bursts of pleasure that make your moans high-pitched and loud, so loud that everyone outside these walls can hear them. Your husband will hear them, the guards are definitely doing so.
“Fucking Gods, you feel so good” He pants in your mouth “You really wanted this. Your cunt is squeezing my cock like a vice. That husband of yours never fucked you this good, did he?”
“Gods—” you whine, squeezing your eyes shut but he grabs your chin with his free hand, forcing you to turn your head. “The Gods cannot hear you now. They’re deaf to the pleas of sinners.” with his free hand he clutches your bundle and he starts to torture you, drawing fast circles, while his length keeps rutting harshly. “Lucky for you I’m more merciful than the Gods.”
The tension in your belly is unbearable, it makes you cry obscenely and the sound only pushes him to go harder, faster.
“Please—I—I can’t—Gods—”
“You can’t what? Mh?” he nothing but growls, thrusting once more and then again. “This is your retribution.” He says baring his teeth “You failed your family for this. You lied and cheated. Now fucking—take—it” his last words punctuated with three deeper thrusts that make you whimper and roll your eyes back.
It doesn’t take much longer for you to reach your peak, letting out a long moan matched with sloppy shakes of your body against his. But he doesn’t stop, chasing his own pleasure as you whimper and sob with overstimulation. His hand keeps moving on your apex, all sticky with your pleasure and you grip his arm, trying to stop him. “Please—I can’t take it anymore—please my Prince—"
“You can and you will.” He promises “Give me one more. Come on, little traitor, just one more.”  
You’re not late in granting his wish, trembling all over him and curling your toes with spasms in your muscles.
He groans loudly beneath you, teeth clamping down your shoulder and he stills completely, coming inside you with a choked sound of relief vibrating from his throat.
You whimper softly, feeling him pulsing inside you, but he grabs your waist and forces you to stand up. You waver on your weak feet, his hand is around your arm but only to firmly push you away from him. Falling on the ground, you look up to see him fixing his breeches, hair all disheveled and a sheen of sweat on his forehead.
“Guards.” He says hoarsely, catching his breath, and two white cloaks stand at attention, their faces blank, pretending to be oblivious to what they have just witnessed. “Take her to my chambers and have the maid give her moon tea.”
Then he looks down at you, his face is wild and yet viciously focused. “We’re going to find a way to send your husband back to Starpike.” He says grazing your lips with his long fingers. “You’re not leaving my chambers anytime soon. In the time being,” his hand grips your mouth harshly, his voice eerily calm “You will write to Oldtown in your own hand, and ask my uncle to send me the head of Samantha Tarly.”
You widen your eyes with terror and he smiles, sweet and poisonous. “And remember, little snake. If I find you near the rookery at odd hours again, I will cut your throat in your sleep. Such a waste it would be. I’d rather have you choking on my cock than your own blood.”
He leaves without another word and you’re left on the ground. You can’t beg mercy to the Gods now, you will have to beg for his and his alone.
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thank you so much for reading!! 💕
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stalkerofthegods · 5 months
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Dionysus & Bacchus cheat sheet deep dive
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Signs he's reaching out • smelling wine all of a sudden, craving wine, You feel a twinge of madness, dreams with his attributes with him, seeing references of him everywhere
Herbs •psalakanthos plant, Grapes and their vines, Figs, Bay laurel, Barley, Pine, Pomegranate, Fennel, apples, berries, weed, Silver Fir, Bindweed, poppy, wheat and hops leafs, wildflowers, pine cones, Apple seeds, Blazing star. I think he would like Cinnamon, mint, feverfew (happiness), Pepper, basil, chives, horseradish (courage), orange, lemongrass, marjoram (insight), vanilla, sorrel, cinnamon (love) 
Animals• Oxen and wild animals, asses, Leopards, Panther, Cheetah, serpents, rams,  dolphins, tigers, lynx, panthers, goats, bats, griffons, bulls
Colors •purple, green, gold, Red, Black, White.
Patron of• fruit and intoxitation, Parties, Festivities, Banquets, Drinking, Bacchic Revelry, Madness, Bacchic Frenzy, Insanity, Hallucination, Homosexuality, Effeminacy, Cross-dressing, Forest Wilderness, Wild vegetation, Predatory big cats, Reincarnation, The path to Elysium, Comedy and Tragedy Plays, Playwrites, Actors, bartenders, the arts, non-binary people.  
Curses• violence, and sickness, Destructive insanity, madness
Blessings• pleasure and fun, Religious frenzy (in the orgiastic cults), Ecstasy, Afterlife in Elysium (paradise), getting a bigger friend group, charismatic going up, getting a romantic partner.
Diety of• wine-making, orchards, fruit, vegetation, fertility, festivity, insanity, ritual madness, religious ecstasy, theatre, partying, Epiphany, weddings, death, sacrifice, sexuality, dancing, immortality, and reincarnation, uninhibited freedom, as well as the subversion of the powerful, ecstasy, and abandon, swamps and marshes.
Crystals• Amethyst, grape agate, Garnet, Ruby, deep red stones, tiger eye, serpentine, leopard jasper, amber, green opal or jade, carnelian, rose quartz (someone had it on their alter for him, so I added it here.), bloodstone, sugilite, purple fluorite, ametrine lepidolite
Mortal or immortal • immortal
Zodiac • Taruas 
Vows/omans• none 
Number• 7 
Morals• he is morally ambiguous
Married to• Ariadne 
Past lovers• Althaia, Ampelos, Aphrodite, Erigone, Kronois, Pallene, Physokoa, Polymnos.
What he favors in devotees• free-spirited, out-of-the-norm, wild lifestyle, gender fluid, transgender, nonbinary people. People are restricted wanting to become free. 
Personality• He brings joy, ecstasy, and merriment, but also delivers "brutal and blinding rage”, he's a very chill guy, many say he is sassy. I met him once, and he respects people's boundaries.
Home• Mount Olympus 
Equivalents/most resemblance • Osiris, Hades, Sabazios, Yahweh, Bacchus, Liber, Tammuz, Orotalt, Fufluns, Acan, Jesus.
Epithets• Acratophorus, Ἀκρατοφό.ρος “giver of unmixed wine at Phigaleia in arcadia, Acroreites at Sicyon Adoneus a Latinised form of Adonis and is also used as an epithet for Bacchus, AegobolusΑἰγοβόλος "goat-shooter" at Potniae in Boeoria, Aesymnetes Αἰσυμνήτης “ruler" or "lord" at Aroë and Patrae in Achaea, Agrios Ἄγριος "wild", in Macedonia, Androgynos Ἀνδρόγυνος ”Androgynous” specifically in intercourse referring to the god taking both an active male and a passive female role, Anthroporraistes, Ἀνθρωπορραίστης “man-destroyer" a title of Dionysus at Tenedos, Bassareus, Βασσαρεύς "fox-skin", which item was worn by his cultists in their mysteries. Bougenes, Βουγενής or Βοηγενής “borne by a cow", in the Mysteries of Lerna,
Braetes, Βραίτης "related to beer" at Thrace, Briseus Βρῑσεύς "he who prevails" in Smyrna, Bromios Βρόμιος "roaring” and "roar of thunder" refering to the wind amd primarily relating to the central death/resurrection element of his myths and also the god's transformations into lion and bull and  of those who drink alcohol and refers to Dionysus' father, Zeus "the thunderer", Choiropsalasχοιροψάλας “pig-plucker" Greek χοῖρος = "pig"(which was  used as a slang term for the female genitalia as A reference to Dionysus's role as a fertility deity), Chthonios Χθόνιος “the subterranean”, Cistophorus Κιστοφόρος "basket-bearer and ivy-bearer" because baskets are sacred to the Dionysus,Dimetor Διμήτωρ "twice-born" which Refers to Dionysus's two births, Dendrites Δενδρίτης "he of the trees" as a fertility god, Dithyrambos Διθύραμβος used at his festivals referring to his premature birth, Eleutherios Ἐλευθέριος “the liberator" also a epithet shared with Eros, Endendros ("he in the tree"), Enorches "with balls" with reference to his fertility, or "in the testicles" in reference to Zeus' sewing the baby Dionysus "into his thigh" which means his testicles used in Samos and Lesbos, Eridromos"good-running" in Nonnus' Dionysiaca, Erikryptos Ἐρίκρυπτος "completely hidden" in Macedonia, Euaster Εὐαστήρ from the cry "euae",  Euius (Euios), from the cry "euae" in lyric passages, and in Euripides’ play “the bacche, Lacchus Lακχος a possible epithet which is associated with the Elusinian Mysteries, The name "Iacchus" may come from the Ιακχος (Iakchos) whicj is a hymn sung in honor of Dionysus.
Indoletes, Ἰνδολέτης, meaning slayer/killer of Indians Due to his campaign against the Indians, Isodaetes, Ισοδαίτης, meaning "he who distributes equal portions", cult epithet which is also shared with Helios, Kemilius, Κεμήλιος and kemas: "young deer, pricket",
Liknites "he of the winnowing fan", as a fertility god connected with mystery religions ( a winnowing fan was used to separate the chaff from the grain.)
Palazzo Massimo, Rome, Lenaius, Ληναῖος "god of the wine-press", Lyaeus, or Lyaios Λυαῖος, "deliverer” and "loosener") which refers to him as who releases from care and anxiety, 
Lysius, Λύσιος "delivering, releasing" At Thebes there was a temple of Dionysus Lysius, MelanaigisΜελάναιγις "of the black goatskin" at the Apaturia festival, 
Morychus Μόρυχος “smeared" in Sicily, because his icon was smeared with wine less at the vintage, Mystes Μύστης "of the mysteries" at Tegea in Arcadia, Nysian Nύσιος according to Philostatus he was called like this by the Ancient indians  Most probably, because according to legend he founded the city of Nysa, Oeneus, Οἰνεύς "wine-dark" as god of the wine press, Omadios “flesh-eater", Eusebius writes in Preparation for the gospel that Euelpis of Carystus states that in Chios and Tendos they did a human sacrifice to Dionysus Omadios, 
Phallen , (Φαλλήν) (probably "related to the phallus” at Lesbos, Phleus "related to the bloοm of a plant", Peudanor Ψευδάνωρ "false man" referring to his feminine qualities in Macedonia,
Pericionius, Περικιόνιος "climbing the column (ivy)" a name of Dionysus at Thebes, Semeleios or Semeleius or Semeleus an obscure epithet meaning 'He of the Earth' and 'son of Semele' Also “Son of Semele, Iakchus, wealth-giver”, 
Skyllitas, Σκυλλίτας “related to the vine-branch" at Kos, Sykites, Συκίτης "related to figs" at Laconia,Taurophagus, Ταυροφάγος “bull eating", Tauros Ταῦρος “a bull", Theoinus, Θέοινος wine-god of a festival in Attica, Τhyiοn, Θυίων "from the festival of Dionysus 'Thyia' (Θυῐα) at Elis", Thyllophorus, Θυλλοφόρος "bearing leaves" at Kos, Dionysus and Zeus absorbs the role of Sabazios (a Thracian/Phrygian deity)
Facts• Dionysus was the last god to enter Olympus, When Dionysus had grown up lady Hera made him into a state of madness so he wandered through many countries of the earth, He was a student of the famous centaur Chiron who taught him how to dance, The common names Dennis and Denise are said to be derived from Dionysus. he hated the sight of an owl
Roots• Ancient Greece, Greek mythology, Mount Pramnos on Ikaria
Offerings • Honey, Meat, Alcohol (especially wine), Fruit, Cakes, Poetry, Songs, Spices (ex- cinnamon), Blood or liquids resembling blood, He thinks those "wine mom" signs that you get in cheap gift shops are hilarious, Grape juice, Intoxicants, Grapes, Olive oil, Apples, Figs, Eggs, Goblets, Curved daggers, Bull horns, Snake skin, Leopard or tiger print objects, Purple candles, Theatre masks, Sexual toys, Percussion instruments, Wine bottles, Fake/toy grapes, Leaves or curls from grapevines, Pine needles, Pinecones, Apple seeds, Bindweed, Wildflowers, Toys photos or art of any big cats, snakes, Hymns, Songs you’ve written, Any art that you create, Any stories that you create, Art, pictures of the comedy, Wine corks, Wine labels, Toy or miniature drums, milk, water from the sea (he has a strong connection with the sea), Decorative beads, party beads, flashy jewelry, Wine glasses, Shot glasses, Corkscrews, Sparkling cider, Grape flavored things, Cheese, hallucinogens, Nips (small alcohol bottles), Bottle opener, Beer/soda tabs, Alcohol bottles with cool labels, Costumes, NatureFig/fig newtonsBull imagery, Donkey imagery, Bones, Antlers, Dead/preserved animals, Hiking gear, Seeds, Concert/festival tickets, Locks of hair, Shaven beard hair, Pride swag, ravagant clothes/clothes that make you feel good.
Devotional • learn about sacred sex, shamanic journeying, responsible entheogen use, and alcohol as a sacrament, read “The Secret History” book, Make a playlist for Him, Dance and sing to your favorite songs or songs you’d think He would like, Throw a feast in His honor, Remembering to take your medication and taking care of your mental health, Support/donate to your local theatre in His name, Be a part of the theatre, Stand up for those that are marginalized, Write stories/plays for Him, Invite Him to watch plays or movies with you (especially comedies or tragedies), Throw parties or attend them, Attend festivals, Attend a wine tasting, Go on wine tours, Attend parades, Masturbate or partake in sexual acts for Him (if you’re comfortable doing so And over 18), Drink alcohol or grape juice, Smoke po, Learn about winemaking, Support local vineyards, Wear wreaths made from ivy, Wear faux leopard or tiger print, Wear the color purple, Pray to Him for things while intoxicated/high, Visit your local winery and participate in a grape-stomp, do some Homebrewing in his honor, Grow a garden in his honor, Make your own ritual tools in his honor, Collect art, do Glamourbombs in his honor, Pretend to be somebody else in his honor, go out to a club in his honor, listen to music in his honor, read in his his mythos, write things for a ritual and write a prayer for him, eat some grapes or have some grape juice or sparkling grape juice (or wine if able and of age), listen to party music, read plays, watch musicals or plays (ex- high school musical, Hamilton), listen to musical soundtracks, learn about the history of theatre, learn about viticulture and vineyards, do things that bring you pleasure, listen to party soundscapes, watch documentaries about any of his sacred animals, Trip intentionally/spiritually, Learn about substance abuse/recovery, Destigamtize drug users, Learn about harm reduction, Make home videos, Write poetry, Act, Dress up, Go to the woods, Dance/sing in the woods, Meditate in the woods, Learn wilderness safety and first aid, Learn what to do when encountering a wild animal, Go off the beaten path, Explore new areas, Pick up litter, Forage, Recycle bottles, Grow fruit, Try new fruits, Have sex (let the partner know beforehand it's in Diyonisus honor, 18+), Masturbate (18+), Have threesomes/swing (ask him before and make sure the other participants know it's in Dionysus's honor, 18+.), Finally, give into that one kink you’ve been ignoring (you know the one, 18+), Learn about consent with partners, Learn how to preserve dead animals, Learn about different life cycles (ex-plants, animals), Learn about immigration in your area, Learn about different cultures, Try foreign foods, Learn a new language, Learn about your ancestry, Help immigrants in your area, Grow your hair out, Keep a Manifest/Keep a manifestation journal, Use Sexual/creative energy to manifest, Shed your old self, Do Self-reflection/self-exploration, Identify areas where you overindulge (ex- food, substances, spending).
Symbols• Grapevine, ivy, phallus, Thyrsus, theatrical masks, Leopard Skin, Panther, Cheetah, the animal called asses, cymbals, swords, or serpents, rams, laurel, asphodel,  dolphins, tiger, lynx, panther, horns, goats, his chariot pulled by 2 leopards, masks in general. 
Siblings• Ares, Athena, Apollo, Artemis, Aphrodite, Hebe, Hermes, Heracles, Helen of Troy, Hephaestus, Perseus, Minos, the Muses, the Graces.
His friends/gets along with• Maenads and Bacchantes and Satyrs and Sileni and Pan and Priapus
Attendees• Seilenos (God of Drunkenness), Pan (God of Shepherds & Pastures) the Satyroi and Seilenoi (spirits of Fertility & the Wild) The Bakkhantes and Mainades (Nymphe and Women revellers) Komos Satyriskos (cup-bearer)
Appearance in astral or gen• Dionysus often took on a bestial shape and was associated with various animals, often wearing an Ivy wreath, the thyrsus, and the kantharos (a large two-handled goblet) In early Greek art he has represented as a mature male, bearded and robed holding a fennel staff tipped with a pine-cone, but later on he was portrayed as youthful sensuous, naked or semi-naked androgynous youth and effeminate with brown hair and pale features, often holding grapes and drinking wine.
Parentage•  Zeus and Semele, some sources also say Zeus and Demeter, some say Zeus and Persephone, but he always sends up with Persephone as a foster mother or as a biological mother, but before his reincarnation, his parents were Ammon and Amalthea.
Pet• leopards
Children • Priapus, Hymen, Thaos, Staphylus, Ononpion, Cumus, Phthonus, the Graces and Deianira, Seilenos, Pan, Satyroi & Seilenoi, Bakkhantes & Mainades, Komodo’s
season and festivles• Diyonosus festivals were bacchanalia, Dionysia, Anthesteria, Dionysian, Lenaia, Panathenaia,  his season was spring and March and April
Day• 11th to the 13th of the month of Anthesterion, around the time of the January or February full moon.
Sacred places• Boitia in Greece, naxos Greek, island Edina in western Thrake, his holiest shrine was Mt kithairon (Nysa) in Boiotia Greece, he also declared war on India. A sacred place is the theatre.
Status• Greek god in the major theoi, and an agriculture Demi God. 
Pet peeves• Uderestemating him, he probably won't like it if you ignore him
Music• Disco, show tunes, psychedelic rock, acid folk, Greek folk music, EDM, classical, new wave, art pop, vaporwave, just anything you can dance and sing to.
Tarot• Temperance, fool card, three of cups, the tower, 9 of cups (based off of how people see him through their tarot cards) 
Scents/Inscene • Pine incense,  frankensince, patchouli and vanilla, nutmeg, mulled wine, storax, and Benzoin, he dislikes lavender.
Prayers•
Regular prayer
Dionysos, god whose arrival is swift and certain, enduring friend of women and men whose welcome is warm, bringer of light, we see you in shadows. Dionysos, granter of great blessings, your presence is a heady wine. Kind-hearted god, to each you give as is fitting, each vessel you fill only as we can bear, and yet with even a sip, we are drunk upon you, and our faith is affirmed. Awesome god, by our own will we drink deeply, with you we become lost, we wander, we are found.
Litany to Dionysos
Dionysos of the vine, rich-tressed god of wine, potent and lusty, unmixed, undiluted, with full force you come to us, vital and robust, rich and strong and surprisingly sweet. Dionysos, I praise and honor you, I thank you for your blessings. Ivy-bearing Dionysos, god of the green, of the power of root on stone, the force of life that will make its own way in spite of all who labor to hold it back, no will or work can bind your might. I praise and honor you, I thank you for your blessings. Dionysos of the deep earth, of the dark world, of the unknown expanse beneath the black soil, beneath solid stone, of mysteries you know much, of death and of what lies beyond. God of secrets, I praise and honor you, I thank you for your blessings. Dionysos the inspiring, granter of words of prose or poesy, words heard best by the drunken and the mad, words forgotten with the passing of night and delight. Bacchus, granter of rare transport, I praise and honor you, I thank you for your blessings. Dionysos Soter, holder of the hearts of men, you free us from the cares of the world, each brilliant frenzied moment a shining jewel, each glimpse of the sacred more precious than gold. I praise and honor you, I thank you for your blessings. Kindly Dionysos, granter of good to men and women, giver of gifts to all who seek your blessing. Gracious Dionysos, accepter of offerings great and small, friend of mankind, I praise and honor you, I thank you for your blessings.
Regular Prayer to Dionysos
Dionysos, deep-hearted one who knows the souls of men and women, whose hand is ever open, ever within reach. Dionysos, god who runs in the dark, who sees with eyes shut tight, who dances to the heart’s strong beat, ever are you yourself, ever constant, ever changing god of those who are trapped, those who seek your truth and their own, those who seek vision beyond seeing, those who seek wisdom beyond knowledge, those who seek the self, pure and sweet, those who seek clarity beyond definition, who seek to embrace the uncertain, to hold, but loosely, to what is true beyond trust.
Regular prayer to Dionysos
I praise Dionysos, lord of the vine, lord of the far reaches of the mind; in the thick of the woods, along darkened paths, in the shadows of dusk and of dawn, you roam the world, the satyrs and the pretty nymphs dancing in your wake. Son of Zeus and fair-haired Semele, bold-hearted Semele, who dared to look into the face of glory, beautiful Semele who you carried into life again, Semele reborn who men called Thyone; beloved of clever Ariadne, quick-witted one, so dear to your heart, your bright-eyed bride and consort; Dionysos, friend of women, friend of the blissful, wild-eyed maenads, pilgrims and pioneers, those who seek, your cheer and inspiration, those who seek your release, from sorrow and despair, those who are lost in joy, and those who have found themselves in you. Dionysos, god of the darkest dark and the deepest deep, boundless one, endless one, fathomless one, in you we see the edges of ourselves, in you, we find our life’s journey, in you we find our home.
To Dionysos
I call to Dionysos, great god of the vine, son of thundering Zeus and headstrong Semele, loving husband of warm-hearted Ariadne. From the east you came, old before the ancients, throughout the elder world were you beloved; in Naxos and Boitia were you celebrated, in temples and in the savage wilderness, the fleet-footed maenads running in your wake. The sweetest, strongest wine is ever your drink; the mind’s release, the body’s loosening, your gift. O Dionysos; thyrsus-shaker, ivy-crowned god, we see you in the shadows, we see you on the edges, we see you in the haze of ecstasy, where we know the truth of passion, where we find the essence of our being. Bacchus, I call to you!
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ryssbelle · 2 months
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Poppy for N2 au, it took me so long to make her design cuz I didn't really know what I wanted to do only because I feel like her design is pretty perfect.
But then I just thought about fun outfits to give her or outfits that I would find comfortable if I was wearing them and it all came together.
Poppy here is pretty much the same as here movie counterpart, as nothing really changes on her end of things other than having more insight on Branch through his brothers, and through Lief. Shes also a bit more understanding a bit earlier on because of it but it doesnt do much to change her own character arc I would say.
Bonus
Part of Poppys design was based off a design I had made for previous rulers of Troll Village/Tree
Namely Queen Protea who I designed as Poppys grandmother
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Named after the Protea flower which part of her design is based off :D
In the context of this Au Protea was the one who conceptualized the tunnels while her son, King Peppy, was the one to follow through after her death
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storydays · 4 months
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Hi!! I was wondering if you could write this scenario with John dory and pop/rock troll reader?
I've had this one scenario playing in my head for days! Poppy and the other rulers, wanting a day of celebrating each other's music, made a contest where a troll/Bergen/(whatever Vaneer and velvet are?) can come and sings for a crowd and the rulers as the judges decided who win. Brozone (mostly John) decided to participate for fun. After brozones song, John and the others join the crowd to watch the next singer, which is the pop/rock troll. John knows her from his adventuring days, she’s the one who got away, aka his true love. (idk why we might've left, maybe they were separated somehow)
John is immediately dumbfounded - because she's right there! After all these years! His brothers, not knowing their past, immediately start making fun of him for liking her as she began to sing on stage. Immediately, even alone, she's seems to wow the crowd even more than any of the previous songs.
As soon as she's done, John rushes back behindstage to meet her, his brothers + Poppy and Viva, all rushing after him. Reader greets John so happily, all the others are kinda… shocked? Even more so if reader decides to kiss John in greeting.
OOH I abosolutely LOVE the cliche sceanrios!!!!!!! LET"S DO IT!!!!!!!!!!!!
John Dory X Fem! Pop Star! True Love! Reader
Small World
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John Dory was ecstatic!
For a Hatchday surprise, his siblings' signed BroZone up for Trollstopia's 3rd Annual Cultural Fair. Anyone and everyone could sign up to perform in the talent show, but everything else was a totally free for all: The games, the different events, even the food(honestly, John Dory had no idea how Pop Trolls survive strictly on sweets, there was such a thing as too much sweets.) BroZone and the two Queens laughed and enjoyed each other as they tried different foods...although, John wasn't amused at the Rock Trolls' tiny replica of volcanic dumplings...wayy too hot.
Unfortunately the band couldn't decide on a song as usual, so they each picked a song from the year 2012, and decided to do a medley.
youtube
The siblings' cheered and clapped themselves on their back as they walked off stage from the cheering crowd when John Dory heard her.
Not his sunshine.
Pausing from where he was walking, the teal haired Troll turned around sharply as he watched a Troll wearing a midnight blue sundress dance around on stage, he could even see a yellow sunflower tucked behind her left ear.
"Come on, baby, let me see your face." He pleaded softly, staring intensely, not noticing his siblings', and the magenta eyed Trolls then walked over to where John was still frozen watching the performer dance.
"Oooh, JD's got a crush on (Y/N)!" Poppy teased, the other Trolls snickering, as they then started to make teasing remarks.
"When's the wedding?" Clay cackled as the others' made varying kissy faces and lewd gestures.
"It can't be her....it's not possible." John muttered softly, making the others' stop and closely watch him. "John?" Branch asked softly, as the Troll on stage then turned in their dance routine, bangs blowing in the wind, and slowly made eye contact with John Dory.
Blue eyes met (e/c).
You tripped slightly during your performance but quickly shook your head and smiled brighter before continuing your routine with a flourish.
YOU were there alive! But...you looked so sad even while performing.
As soon as you were off to the other side of the stage, you rushed to look for him as he for you, as he ignored his family's protest.
You rounded the corner, and stopped seeing him down the hall, and panted heavily as you both caught your breath.
After a moment of quite breathing, and wide eyed stares, you both observed the other. John looked so tired, and was sporting a new look, his hair shorter and he was wearing that brown coat you'd got him for a Christmas present one year, and there were more stress lines then last time you saw him.
John eyed the heavy bags under your eyes, and saw the sad gleam in your eyes. You didn't have that last time. You still wore the flower behind your left ear...that was one of the Valentine's present he gave you one year...it was a crystallized sunflower that you could wear forever without fear of it dying.
The world faded to the two of you as you took in the other's presence.
"Hey, sunshine."
Sobbing to yourself, you rushed into his waiting arms, kissing him as if you'd never kissed before, holding him as if he might fade away again.
"I've got you, and I'm never letting go again." He murmured softly, holding you tightly, rubbing soothing circles on your back, as he sobbed/laughed a
You both sat on the floor, holding each other tight and whispering sweet promises to each other.
John's family stood speechless, with a varitey of emotions on their faces, and they went to ask what the hell was going on, when Floyd stopped them, wiping a tear away. "Wait, guys..Clearly, they've been waiting for a long time. Let's give them a moment."
It really was a small world.
P2 or headcanons or both next? Hope I did you justice!
@vacayisland
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anastaaaaaaasia · 2 months
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The First Queen
Aegon II Targaryen x niece!Reader
Important notice: in this series reader has features of Ser Harwin, including Brown hair and tone of skin.
Next chapter
Prologue
Warnings: mention of blood, children (who knows)
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Chaos.
The room was in chaos. Maids ran from one corner to another, midwives bended over the princess's body on the bed. The smell of sweat, blood and milk of the poppy mixed into one stench that was nastier than the smell in the farthest corners of Flea Bottom. The sounds were no better. The rustling of sheets, the maester's stern instructions and the screams of Princess Rhaenyra.
It was a hot summer day in King's Landing, so the windows were wide open. Those inhabitants of the Red Keep who decided to take a walk near the Godswood were unlucky, the windows from the maternity room just looked out there. Few people knew, but at the moment of the most desperate screams, the dragon Syrax also screamed several miles away.
Outside the walls of the room, in the corridors of the red castle, there was also chaos. Maids brought new potions while others ran around looking for new towels. When the door opened and a maid began to carry out bloody sheets in a wicker basket, Ser Laenor staggered and abruptly closed Jace's eyes. Although the boy is only a year old, he could not allow his son to see this picture.
Queen Alicent shrugged when she saw the number of towels and sheets in a bloody color. All of her births were relatively easy and it was unusual and frightening to see this. Any woman in the Seven Kingdoms knew that while men fight on the battlefield in armor and with swords in their hands for gold, fame and new lands, women fight on the birth bed with maesters and midwives, for their lives and the lives of their children.
Alicent was rocking the newly born Aemond at this time; the chubby-cheeked boy was calm enough for his age. One-year-old Heileina was busy with a toy dragon figurine her father had given her. The young princess babbled happily as the toy appeared in her view.
At this time, her father was trying to distract himself from his thoughts. He saw such a picture not so long ago, a couple of years ago. When Viserys met long-awaited son. When he made a decision that still haunts him in the darkness of the night. When he lost his wife Aemma. Just the thought of the possible loss of his daughter brought back all the darkest images and awakened what King Viserys tried so desperately to forget, but never could. The ruler of Westeros decided that if the maesters asked to make a choice in favor of a mother or a child, he would do everything to ensure that Laenor named his wife, no matter what.
Everyone was busy with their own worries, so no one noticed how the young prince, the first son of the king, entered the room after the maid. The boy hid behind the closet when a couple of moments later the room was filled with children's cries. He carefully looked out from behind the furniture and saw that the master was holding a new member of the family. They were covered in mucus and blood. Then Aegon thought how disgusting little children were. He might never even get close to Aemond, who knows, maybe he too suddenly becomes like this. No one wants to be dirty in this mixture, especially the young prince.
Then he looked at his older sister, she was lying there and smiling. Rhaenyra stopped screaming as if she had been eaten by a dragon. Now she was lying and waiting for the first meeting with her child.
“It’s a girl, princess,” said the master. Then he placed the newborn in the hands of the princess. She smiled and stroked her new daughter's cheek. This action caused a sudden burst of laughter from the little girl. And then Aegon looked further than he should have.
A sudden gasp from one of the maids caught the attention of everyone in the room, and Aegon turned to see the maid looking straight at him. Then the young prince realized that he was in trouble. He smiled guiltily and tried to hide his eyes.
“My prince, the birthing room is not a place for men,” said the master and ordered that the boy be taken to his parents.
“But you are here, and you don’t look like a female maester, unless you are hiding something from us,” the prince smiled, and devils danced in his eyes. The princess grinned and interrupted the slightly indignant maester.
“Dear little brother, may I ask, what are you doing here?” Rhaenyra looked at her four-year-old brother. The boy didn’t know what to answer and just stood there, then he shrugged and looked at his sister.
"Do you want to see her?" Rhaenyra broke the silence and pointed to the little girl in her arms. Aegon took a couple of steps to the bed and, with the help of his sister, climbed onto it. Big eyes looked at him, he couldn’t understand what color they were.
Perhaps he had not yet learned its name; playing with the sword was much more interesting than sitting in the chambers with the maester and listening to his boring sayings.
He also saw that her skin was slightly bluish. He remembered that Aemond also had a bluish tint, but after a couple of weeks he became pinker and ruddier. The next feature of her appearance was a pair of brown hairs, which he had never seen in his family. Aegon knew something was wrong, but he couldn’t explain it, and it didn’t matter to him. His nephew, Jace, was also dark-haired, and Aegon had sometimes heard his mother complain about it. He honestly didn't understand why Queen Alicent was worried about his hair color. It's just a color, isn't it?
Aegon wanted to touch reaching up to the girl’s plump cheeks, but suddenly froze, looking at his sister, mentally asking permission. Rhaenyra nodded warmly, and the little prince touched his cheek. It felt like the softest fluff, the newborn smiled her toothless smile and Aegon smiled back. Suddenly the girl squeezed the toddler's finger into her fist and started laughing.
“She seems to like you,” said the princess.
“What is her name?” Aegon asked his sister. Rhaenyra didn't know what to answer. She didn't discuss women's names. Yes, she always wanted to name her sister Visenya, but the wound from the loss of her mother and all her shattered dreams was still fresh. She didn't know what to answer and then looked at the young prince.
“What do you want to call her?”
Aegon thought only for a couple of seconds, because he knew the answer to this question. There was a name he loved and it intrigued him. How melodious it sounds and rolls off the tongue. He heard this name during lessons with the master, he was almost asleep, but when he heard the name he suddenly woke up. It was something from Andal legends.
“Y/N,” Aegon said proudly and smiled, the girl also smiled and drooled a few times. A few got on his hand and the young prince shook them off contemptuously. Rhaenyra just laughed at that.
"Sometimes children do disgusting things," Aegon declared.
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