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@qeldliie-blog
𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍?
cash me outside
@needlcd / arya stark / inactive hub. @nytchld / sabrina spellman / high activity. @faedraco / mal bertha / low activity. @qeldliie / viserion / inactive but forever loved.
coming up
toph, azula or ciri.
MOTHER DEAREST.
@qeldliie plotted.
she drops a BULL for the golden one , a massive beast ; yet naught other than a bean sprout compared to a dragon’s might . nagini came silent , FAST . her prey still warm for her sweetling to enjoy . soon he would be old enough to accompany her && hunt for his own flesh , a day every mother yearned for . to see her son lift PRIDEFUL into the air up above . sworded snout bows down , gently nudging her young ; such a sweet act of affection from a merciless empress . ❛ today we shall search for a new nest , would you prefer a mountain or forest , my little storm . ❜
THE BEAST IS STILL WARM WHEN PRESENTED to him, mother gifting life as she so often does; and her cream and gold little progeny dives in with a happy little chirp, neck bending and burrowing into the poor creature’s guts. viserion is barely larger than the bull; scales of creamy white, horns and wing - flecks of sunshine gold. and teeth; obsidian razors, that tear bone to shreds. the sounds of cracking bone are not all the bull’s, however; as when viserion emerges from his feeding, cream scales give way to golden skin, and silver hair; a boy, naked as his name day with a bloodied chin.
he lays a hand on the bull’s muzzle, as if thanking it. truly he is so different from his mother ------ and yet the same savagery runs in his veins. he is a hunter, too. he is the apex. and he’s all ready thinking about nests. a mountain would be nice; he could practise flying from it’s ridges. but he had seen both these places before.
❛ can’t we go to one of those places, where the men build their stone nests? ❜ he has never been before to a town; and his curiosity is all consuming.
THE WORLD IS ON FIRE AND ASH FALLS LIKE SNOW. like the wolves say, winter has come, but not the kind of winter they had all been preparing to fight. viserion is numb. he sits upon a ruined building, that at one point may have been a bank of a gallery, but was now a roof. he stares ahead, the city before him the only memory he has ------ he saw black, rage and pain filled his lungs, and fire filled his mouth. he had burned them. armies, buildings, innocent people might be... but he had stopped, gripped himself.
his bond with his mother wasn’t like that of drogon’s, and it was drogon she rode. viserion had stopped, watching in confusion as his mother continued, too terrified of the small part he had done to question her. he did not understand what they had done... why they had...
mother wouldn’t want this. he doesn’t want this. they free people. they help people... not this. what is happening to their mother? he can feel her pain, her loneliness... like his own, blooming for the brother they’ve lost. for jorah, and missandei. for the stupid people that don’t love them, don’t want them. but this...
he’s been trying to ask his brother about it. trying being the word. he doesn’t dare. he turns from drogon every time he starts. he’s scared of his brother. that’s new.
and he’s scared of himself.
and then it hits him. a shockwave as if he is being thrown off the building, but he doesn’t move. something has a grip on his heart, and he looks desperately back to his brother.
❛ drogon ------ drogon, something's wrong ------ ❜ viserion does not hide his desperation nor worry as he scrambles up. fear is rare for a dragon, but he is afraid. it must be something awful, to break his numb state. though he need not tell drogon, who no doubt feels it harder than even he does.
LOCALE: PLOTTED STARTER — OPEN. FOR: @bloodablaze — BIG BROTHER.
Never Let Me Go (sentence starters)
feat. lines from the book Never Let me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro
“Memories, even your most precious ones, fade surprisingly quickly.”
“All children have to be deceived if they are to grow up without trauma.”
“I realized, of course, that other people used these roads; but that night, it seemed to me these dark byways of the country existed just for the likes of us…”
“Your life must now run the course that’s been set for it.”
“You say you’re sure? Sure that you’re in love? How can you know it? You think love is so simple? ”
“I always wanted to believe in things.”
“I saw a new world coming rapidly. More scientific, efficient, yes. More cures for the old sicknesses. Very good. But a harsh, cruel, world.”
“Your lives are set out for you.”
“Yes, we’re doing this now and I’m glad we’re doing it now. But what a pity we left it so late.”
“Poor creatures. What did we do to you? With all our schemes and plans?”
“Even the solitude, I’ve actually grown to quite like…”
“I half closed my eyes and imagined this was the spot where everything I’d ever lost since my childhood had washed up.”
“But I really wanted to find it for you.”
“So you’re waiting, even if you don’t quite know it, waiting for the moment when you realize that you really are different to them…
“What I wished more than anything was that the thing hadn’t happened at all…”
“What I’m not sure about, is if our lives have been so different from the lives of the people we save. “
“Why should they be grateful?”
“Sometimes I get so immersed in my own company, if I unexpectedly run into someone I know, it’s a bit of a shock and takes me a while to adjust.”
“Don’t you wonder sometimes, what might have happened if you tried?”
“I keep thinking about this river somewhere, with the water moving really fast. And these two people in the water, trying to hold onto each other, holding on as hard as they can, but in the end it’s just too much.”
“It’s just a bit of nostalgia to pass the time.”
“We were right for each other once. Whether we always will be, that’s anyone’s guess.”
“It didn’t hurt, did it? When I hit you?“
“I remember a huge tiredness coming over me, a kind of lethargy in the face of the tangled mess before me.”
“It never occurred to me that our lives, until then so closely interwoven, could unravel and separate.”
STRANGER LIKE ME.
❝ i have no intentions of doing that . ❞ well , not unless there’s genuine reason for him to do so . he simply hopes that it doesn’t come to that . he’s not in the mood for pointless fights . now , aaron hasn’t thought much about how he’ll word the questions that have crept into his mind , he’s never been good at doing so . it’s always the same abruptness . each && every time .
❝ but ——— you aren’t a human . ❞ not a question , but a statement . he knows the sickly sweet smell they give off , but to him , he picks up an obvious reptilian scent . yet he does not appear anguin , which is the main reason he’s so curious . he won’t immediately jump down their throat with that idea . he may be wrong . ❝ so , just what are you , mate ? ❞
❛ ------ THAT'S NOT A QUESTION. you said questions. ❜ but if his words sound like sulking, that’s not the look upon his face. he’s being pedantic, a petty vengeance for the man scaring him, but his expression... viserion’s molten eyes are curious as his head tilts, gently, full of wonder. he reaches up, touching his own tiny, but sharp little fangs, then looking to the stranger’s mouth. he squints. this man’s scent reminds him of someone ------ his brothers, perhaps. it’s so similar yet so different.
❛ you know what i am, don’t you? else you wouldn’t ask. ❜ but how, how did he know? perhaps another of his kind might assume hunter, or be skeptical at least. not viserion.
he steps forward, too personable, reaching up to try and run the same finger over one of the strange’s canines, ever tactile, ever lacking in boundaries. his eyes widen, hand drops down. he can’t quite believe it. he’s never met another like himself and his brothers. ❛ are you... are you like me? ❜
fallesto » ser barristan selmy.
SOME CALL HIM BOLD, MOST CALL HIM OLD. It felt good to once again be addressed with his title, but he had given that up years ago when the young golden lion branded him traitor and cast him out. His titles stripped, his legacy burnt and a price placed on his head. He doubted that he would ever return to the seven kingdoms. He just had a feeling, that it rested upon his shoulders to train suitable replacements for when he was gone, to protect the queen and be there when she would need it the most.
“Ser Jorah likes to stretch the truth a little bit. There have been better than me. Ser Arthur Dayne was in a league of his own and the queens older brother, I have never seen a man such natural and gifted in swordsmanship.” He cut himself off a little bit. There was sorrow in his words and his eyes. He had loved those men, like brothers. Even if blood did not link them, a brotherhood had formed and while they had fought and died bravely, he had lived a long life full of regret and failure.
“You have what your brothers lack, speed. You will not be as good as them, but with training and more time spent doing what I say instead of sleeping, you will be better than them.” Power did not mean everything. He himself was not strong nor fast, he used cunning and counters to slay his foes. The boy was fast, very fast, with the right weapon and training, he could best his brothers - and even him in time.
“Nothing would make me happier if you did little one.” He placed his hand on his shoulder, he never had children, never knew the joy of raising his own, but he had trained enough squires and youths into fine young men and in that role he had taken on an almost father like role, but this time - he would be a grandfather.
“If that is the weapon your heart is set upon, I see no reason why we cannot get it now for you.” He commented, turning around as he would grab his sword, placed safely within its holder as he attached it to his side.
You can never be too careful, even a trip to a market could be dangerous.
HIS INSTINCT TELLS HIM THAT HE’S MADE THE MAN SAD with memories he can’t hope to understand. he doesn’t know ser arthur dayne; but barristan also speaks of his uncle. he’s seen his mother’s features drop, too, at the thought of the brother she never knew. it is not his intention to upset the man, and slowly vis reaches out a hand and slinks his fingers around barristan’s own, and palm to palm, holds his hand tight, and squeezes it ------ it has always made him feel better when his mother does it for him. ❛ will you tell me about him, my uncle? ❜
as they move to set a way the training equiptment, and he has to let go of his hand, viserion lingers. ❛ and anyway; you’re still my favourite. ❜ the boy declares.
he pouts, dejectedly at the mention of sleeping. how can one be so spry and yet so lazy? yet as soon as the idea is given to fetch him a properly fitting sword, that he might be as good as or better than his brothers, the boy is up on tip - toes, excitement in his molten eyes. he rushes to the knight’s side. ❛ thank you, oh thank you! you can tell me all about uncle rhaegar on the way! and we can buy clams! ❜
buy was a strange word to use, as the prince has no gold and simply expects these things to be given to him; but it is hard to say no to either his joy - filled eyes or his tiny fangs. sweetness or fear will get you.
he knows they should not be leaving without a squad of unsullied and no doubt countless checks ------ but drogon leaves all the time; and now his head is full of swashbuckling tales of water dancers, and men and women with narrow swords, quick as the west wind, fluid like flying, and he wants to be like them. he falls in at barristan’s side as he collects his sword, and he knows that is where he should remain, but they have barely made it to the bottom of the pyramid before he is pulling away; full of energy.
FOR A MOMENT HE THINKS SOMETHING IS WRONG. there is a feeling of... sadness? but she is too hard to read, even for him. viserion’s empathy is not learned, through trauma and necessity, simply to survive. it is natural: a beast’s empathy, like how lady would have been able to tell when she were sad. but the girl and the wolf he knew nought about had a bond; that he does not share with her, and so all he does is offer a smile, hopes it helps. hopes she speaks soon: he doesn’t like this feeling. odd, then, that she describes it as joyful.
❛ but are you joyful? ❜ viserion asks too bluntly, more curious than cautious. he does not know yet the way lords and ladies play with words. his shoulders slump in relief when she declares it won’t be the same. his emotion is clear, worn on his sleeve at all times ------ oh, the great game would tear him apart. he has to learn.
❛ i am glad, i don’t want blood. ❜ he sighs, and there’s a little laugh that bubbles in his throat. ❛ i heard just that! knights ride around on horses, knowing each other off. it sounds so silly. why do they do that? ❜ certainly not the bloodsports of meereen. but it was making him titter to imagine it. there has to be some reason, some symbolism.
LOCALE: CONTINUATION — OPEN. FOR: @hiddensteel — SANSA STARK.
BACKED INTO A DARK ALLY BY NIGHTFALL? it isn’t exactly good ground to feel safe. and he doesn’t. he is aware the stranger has been following him for some time, and finally he makes himself known. if viserion were his brother, he thinks, he would snap his fangs at the stranger and square to him ------ but he is not drogon. if he were to square to the man, he would have to tilt his head high; small, he is, like his mother. but he knows how to keep his chin up. there’s a regality about him that tries to mask his worry.
❛ if you hurt me, you will regret it, ❜ he warns. but as his words fall away from his lips: hollow promises from a scared boy it might be easy to believe. but there is curiosity in his eyes as the shine of moonlight catches... sharp fangs in the stranger’s mouth, and vis’ eyes widen slightly. a predator? no... not right now. his head tilts gently, white hair falling into molten gold eyes, but he nods, slowly. ❛ ...all right. ❜
LOCALE: CONTINUATION — OPEN. FOR: @letagin — STRANGER IN THE NIGHT.
SLAMS HAND DOWN ! come on then who wants to PLOT ?
new icons yey!
VISERION FLAPPED AT HER AND TRIED TO PERCH on her shoulder, as he had when he was smaller. ❛ no, ❜ dany said, trying to shrug him off gently. ❛ you’re too big for that now, sweetling, ❜ but the dragon coiled his white and gold tail around her, clinging tightly.
Reblog if you're willing to do fairly violent RPs
webofroses:
resurrectedbluebird:
The moment when a man mistakes Ren for a girl and puts his bracelet on for him (◕‿◕✿)
NAME : rain. NICKNAME / S : rainy, rainy day, bean. HEIGHT : 5′3″. NATIONALITY : british & irish. FAVOURITE FRUIT : strawberry or pear. FAVOURITE SEASON : spring, because my SAD leaves me alone a sec. FAVOURITE SCENTS : newly cleaned bedsheets, cherry, a spring or summer evening in the english countryside. FAVOURITE ANIMALS : doggos or pandas. TEA, COFFEE, HOT COCOA : a cup of tea ofc. AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP : it’s like 3 or 23, there’s no middle ground. WHEN MY BLOG WAS CREATED : uhhhh. i have no idea. i had another blog for vis but i couldn’t get onto it. so i think this one is like a year, year half old, but that one was like more... more old. # OF FOLLOWERS : approaching 2k on arya. 300 on vis. don’t people like pretty dragon boys?? RANDOM FACT : i’m pagan. FAVOURITE FOOD : chicken karaage. FAVOURITE T.V. SHOWS : last kingdom, buffy, sg-1, got ( sometimes ), avatar: the last airbender, dragon prince, firefly, vikings, twd ( everything stopped after s6 it’s fine ), doctor who. FAVOURITE MOVIE : leon, sunshine, gotg, infinity war, galaxy quest. FAVOURITE VINE : why you always lyin’. SEXUALITY : idc other people just ruin the whole thing. PRONOUNS : idc. FAVOURITE BOOK SERIES : asoiaf or his dark materials. FAVOURITE VIDEO GAME / S : so. if we say indoctrination theory was true, then mass effect. FAVOURITE SUBJECT : drama, history, philosophy. GUYS OR GIRLS : guys. LAST TIME I CRIED : like everyday idk i’m stressed. WHAT I SHOULD BE DOING : sleeping. FAVOURITE FANDOMS : asoiaf, twd ( even if i’m not involved anymore ), really obscure bbc show fandoms that have like 2 posts on any given site
tagged by : @kingwholost because bae, thank you! tagging : @bloodablaze, @zcldrizes, @killypool, @killthebxy, @dethcraft, @boundbird, @atonings, @asgardianhammer, @arcusignis, @dalishflame, @edhelaran, @elataan, @flxbber, @thesellsword, @theeldestsun, @longmayshereign-cersei, @wineinthewidow, @tyrxshisword, @tyrion, @mediuming, @venomoved.
HE STANDS UPON THE EDGE OF THE WORLD, without furs and without a cowl to protect his head and ears from the harsh, biting winds. wonder has always filled the young one’s eyes, and he has always felt that seeing his mother’s homeland would fill him with the sense of purpose he’d been lacking. that finally he might feel fulfilled and equal, even, to his brother’s in their ferocity.
but there is no wonder. there is fear.
it’s an odd sensation for him, one he isn’t used too. nervous, mayhaps, even sorrow at being left alone in the darkness. at wanting his mother. but... he doesn’t know what this is. it’s primal and instinctual fear. ❛ you lived down there? ❜ he asks the wildling woman in a hushed, little tone. ❛ but... why? ❜
@arcusignis ------ starter call.
❛ --- YOU'RE WORRIED. ❜ missandei always said where he varied from his brothers was his empathy; yet now he wishes he didn’t feel it. humans had so many emotions, but he’d never felt this one on ash. ❛ is this bad? ❜ the boy looks from the ship approaching upon the horizon to the pirate at his side.
the ship itself is slick and red, black sails blocking out the sun.
@ashseas ------ starter call.
