#mythaelogie

[wehowl-archive]

jeremy danvers & hana danvers ( @mythaelogie )

[in-arlathan]

The Rebel's Ascension, Ch. 24

[Read on AO3] ∙ [Start on AO3]

Pairing: Solas x Female Elvhen OC

Characters: Young Solas/Fen’Harel, The Evanuris (Mythal, Elgar’nan, Andruil, Dirthamen, Falon’Din, Ghilan’nain, Sylaise, June), The Forgotten Ones (Geldauran, Anaris, Daern’thal), Supporting OCs

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Angst, Drama, Intrigue, and lots of Elven Lore Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Implied/Referenced Torture, Explicit Sexual Content

Word count: ~5,900 (~155,000 total)  Status: Work In Progress

→ Full list of tags and warnings on AO3 → NSFW chapters will be marked with *

____

Chapter 24: Cry of Resistance

-3,700 Ancient

The shards of the eluvian glittered like drops of sunlight soaring through the air. Solas gaped at them, his sense of time all but lost. The All-Father turned away from him slowly, releasing his hold on Solas’s neck to shield his own face. Sweet breath rushed into his lungs and he coughed, loudly, and narrowed his eyes. He staggered, half-dazed, half-drunk with relief. Then, a hand around his upper arm. A strong and slender hand.

“Get down!” Mythal cried and pulled Solas away. She had unfolded her dragon wings and had flung them wide around her like a great cloak. The shards of the broken eluvian bounced across the patagium but failed to pierce it.

Another arrow darted past the corner of his eye to hit the eluvian. Only it wasn’t an arrow at all. What had seemed like a feathered shaft turned out to be pure energy warped into a bolt of lightning. Solas traced its flight path to the main floor of the assembly hall. The crowd had erupted into a mixture of rage and fear. Some elvhen were clamoring toward the first row, readying themselves to fling their magic at the attackers. Others fled the scene, screaming and kicking at each other. The Sun Soldiers who had stood guard atop the seating rows allowed them to go. They were too busy clinging to their weapons and running for the main floor themselves. More lightning bolts shot across the room, ricocheting off armors and shields. Chaos reigned over the Ring of Summons.

Solas’s gaze darted around the room, trying to discern who was casting the spells but there was no one to be seen. Despite himself, the Evanuris, and their enforcers, the main floor seemed to be perfectly empty.

[Read on AO3]

[stllinski]

❛  it's just a dream, a stupid dream.  ❜ / from malia

they are never only dreams. when they leave him waking, gasping for air. when they bleed into his every thought. when every shadow he sees from the corner of his eyes leaves hairs standing on the back of his neck. the door is always ajar.

one hand covers his face, trying to return his breathing to a normal rhythm. the other is searching for her beside him. anchor him back into the present. he finds her, fingers clenching into her perhaps harder than they should. trembling. “ i'm okay, it's okay. ”

[flips1de]

“i just want to feel something.” / for jura <3

"Of course you do, baby."

Shura speaks against his collarbone, his fangs raking over supple skin that no matter what he does to it (biting, scratching, sucking) never changes, at least not for long, as it quickly becomes soft and pale again: the infinite canvas.

But it doesn't stop Shura from having fun, from sinking his teeth in the curve of his neck as he has done so many times before, drawing blood that he will intoxicate with.

And as he does, his hands are free to explore, fingers prodding until one enters Julian, thrusting in and out until he's stretched enough to take a second, Shura's movements becoming a little more erratic as he goes as he grows harder himself. 

With his fingers, he scissors him, pushing even deeper until he finds that spot that makes Julian wail.

"Tell me what you want. Exactly what you want."

PROMPT

[atomiqueen]

@mythaelogie replied to your post “*shakes the fallout rpc until a maximus falls out*”:

a line of lucy's waiting for maximus

[stormfuryd]

@mythaelogie liked for a starter / Durran Baratheon

THERE IS AN UNDERLYING TENSION AMONGST THE DENIZENS OF THE RED KEEP, walking the knife’s edge of pleasing their kingly brother and his lioness wife, whispering words of his whoremongering and the colouring of the royal children kept away from prying ears and the spider’s reach.Rhaeana has had her own suspicions since the loss of her brother’s first trueborn child, bearing the Baratheon black hair whilest his pretender siblings have since been born as golden as their Lannister mother.

Confident steps help her traverse the Red Keep to her twin’s rooms, blue gaze set firmly ahead, avoiding what little Targaryen architecture managed to survive Robert’s wrath once he was crowned, the places a girl of five could easily hide from prying eyes and clawed hands. (But she no longer has to hide from Dragons and crazed kings.)

“It seems our esteemed Warden of the North has finally learned to open his eyes and see the glaring problem with our darling niece and nephews.” Rhaeana foregoes the standard niceties of Court, falling back into familar roles like they were still in Storm’s End, free from the threats of marriage and the judging eyes inhabiting their brother’s Court, whispers about their chosen dance partners (and bed partners) found at every corner.

Honestly, she’s disappointed it took him this long, following Stannis’ trail like the good honorable dog he is. Their House has always been prolific for their colouring, even superceding that of their Dragon cousins, proven in Rhaenys Taragaryen and her raven dark hair amongst the silver strands of the rest of House Taragaryen.

“If left to his own devices and damnable honor, I suspect Eddard Stark will throw us into a bloody succession crisis by lunch.” Bloody indeed, their goodsister has never been a woman to go down quietly and she fears Lord Stark is only offering up the lives of his household and daughters for the executioner’s blade.

[stormfuryd]

@mythaelogie

i hear your voice sometimes, urging me to keep going. / from durran

THERE IS A STUBBORNESS THAT RUNS THROUGH THEIR BLOOD, FAR STRONGER THAN ANY TRACES OF DRAGONS AND OLD VALYRIA. Robert and Stannis may rage and seethe in equal measure but it is the younger of siblings who have blessed with enough stubborness to survive their own hells during childhood.

(Durran's voice guides her just as much as he's guided by her own, her shining light in the darkness, offering comfort and protection when all others' have fallen silent.)

"Good. If anything were to happen to you, rest assured brother mine, i would kill you myself." After razing whomever harmed a hair on his head to the ground, along with half of Westeros. She's under no illusions as to her ability to survive long should Durran fall, spite and rage an adequate motivator till she's satisfied enough to join him.

"Only a cruel man would abandon me to our brothers' constant pissing contests and our lovely queen's sharp tongue."

[danceapocalyyptic-a]

                    muse :  kahurangi .

❝ veterinarian ?  sounds  heaps  of  fun . ❞  he’s  genuinely  interested ,  even  fascinated  by  the  life  amerie  has  built  for  herself  over  the  years .  in  her  she  sees  genevieve ,  she  sees  the  goodness  in  this  world  that  has  been  misunderstood .  though  his  face  changes  to  one  of  confusion  rather  quickly .  ❝ wait ,  so  you  stick  thermometers  up  pets’  bumholes ?  that’s  got  to  be  quite  the  challenge . ❞  

                    @mythaelogie​ .  amerie .