#sunsfade

[dragunstone]

sorry anon (sike!) but tbh alicent's behavior makes so much more sense if you consider she's a closeted lesbian!

omg srry anon can sapphics exist or is that too much of a take!!!

[luredeep-moved]

big cat emoji

muse list randomiser !

ciaran –– not quite sure how to set this one up but it could be interesting ? likely best either in my survival verse for after iorveth dips and ciaran is on his own for a while, or after brenna when he is, too... he will probably underestimate ishtar unless he also meets her dragon sdjfhgsdf

alucard –– oooooooo this could b interesting ... not sure which of your verses would apply here, but i've been meaning to give them a witcher verse so. hands you my dramatic dhampir on a platter. ( they would likely keep quite a bit of their magic for this. perhaps that would intrigue her. )

legolas –– oh no sfshgdfsdf sweet summer child meet ... ishtar. maybe las needs a witcher verse too ... i don't think they would like her very much though

[ilvaites]

DROYI COIRE SHENANIGANS         /         @sunsfade​

COME ONE,   COME ALL     :     WITNESS THE RECKLESS ACT OF BOLDNESS IN THE STYLE OF ONE SACRIFICIAL LAMB SERVED ON A SILVER PLATTER !    AND SO THE FOREST OF LIVING ROOTS SWALLOW HIM FULL,   EMBRACING HIM INTO THE BELLY OF THE BEAST,   INTO THE GAPING MOUTH OF A STARVING ENTITY.     or so this is what the wandering eyes would say as word spreads across the gossipers of nearby towns.     and then it would die out when the updates would prove nil,   when their imaginations could no longer suit their purposes nor fill the entertainment needed for such futile lifestyles.    artie is no stranger to the quelled,   rather a familiar visitor from time - to - time,   and an old friend of a dearly departed.   like the trees,   he shares the grief and allows them to nourish his burdens for a short time.     and it helps that he never enters without offerings on his person     :     THIS IS THE UNSPOKEN ETIQUETTE TO SURVIVING THE UNPREDICTABLE,   CURRENT - CHANGING,   BLACK - HOLE POCKET OF SPACE.     the satchel is heavy on his shoulders,   and he knows not entirely where he ventures towards,   only following what his guts tell him.     and the suspiciously well - aligned ivories almost set out like a path meant for him.

he’s careful with the sigh of relief that leaves his lungs when he’s met with snow - like locks,   and scales only those with a death wish would dream of caressing.      he is certainly not a craver of death,   and yet he never fails to ask if he can.           “  for a moment i was worried you were finally taken from this space.    that was stupid of me or the quelled would be in a state of disarray.   ”        WITH A QUICK,   PURPOSEFUL GLANCE AROUND,   SIGHTS LAND ON THE INTIMIDATING SHROUD OF NAKED BRANCHES THAT ACT AS LIVING WEAPONS.         “  and i’d be impaled.  ”         he shudders at the thought and slips the satchel of his shoulder,   taking a step towards the guardian with ease,   holding it out.         “  picked some titles i thought you’d enjoy reading.     a new author in zrico has the library in a frenzy.     managed to snatch a copy before it sold out.    added some stones in there as well,   not sure what use you’ll have of them but maybe you could chuck them at intruders.  ” 

[dragunstone]

❛❛    king's landing is ...nice.    if you’d like though,    you should see it on dragonback   —   it’s all the more beautiful.   ❜❜    [@sunsfade]

[pritvolny]

music for the soul — accepting. ( ft. ishtar atta isil )

he realises the honesty in her words,  and there is perfect sense in them.    what doesn't fit the picture are the scars on his hand,   the soreness in his jaws where fangs had been,   the shadows starting to creep into the whites of his eyes.    the guards are calling it an affliction,   something to harken back to the strange occurrences all over the city:    bone bridges that erupted from the ground and roses that bled like rivers;   their king was affected as his heart resided in the very soil of this kingdom.   little did they know,   the heart of this abomination resided in him.    if they heard the shadows inside his skull,   if they saw the red through his eyes—

that is when @sunsfade's voice had cleaved his thoughts in half.     ' you're not a monster.   you're just human. '     the boy he had been never knew ishtar to be naive,   so it is easy to believe her,   and more so because he simply  wants to.    the distinction is not the only thing that comforts him,   but also the simple validation of his being,   minimising his otherness.    something splits inside him,   like glass,   like a grin.    he squints in her direction.     ❛   a human with a predilection to eat a child for dinner.   ❜      nikolai jests,   absently itching the tips of his gloved fingers.    he has made a point to sit in the sun:   summer days are a rarity in os alta,   and what lives inside his skin does not agree with it.     ❛   no,  that sounds like accepting defeat.   there has to be a way out.   ❜

[ophliea]

⤳   @sunsfade​   asked:     ‹ i’ve been cultivating unkindness. i’ve been cultivating a lot of things — i’m a fertile field, it turns out — but unkindness is the most interesting. ›

     “ Has it been serving you? ” 

    Many who would respond with such a question might be asking with some measure of mockery,  but there is none to be found in Ophelia’s tone,  nor her demeanor.  Honesty and sincerity drips heavy off every sound,  every movement.  She seems almost desperate,  as if seeking counsel for her own endeavors:  fostering cruelty purposefully,  what must that be like?  Is it easy?  Has it made matters worse?  There’s always been a small part of her which yearned to utter a cutting phrase.  She wondered how many mean words Ishtar had spoken and meant them;  how sharp has her tongue turned?  Has it a razor’s edge?  

    With a natural,  consuming curiosity,  Ophelia leans in & sets her chin against her forearms,  crossed beneath her,  sporting a discerning eye.   “ I find I don’t have the backbone for it, ”   she says,  words spoken somewhat apologetically.  And,  then,  with a smile  ––   finally in on the joke:     “ Limited talents.  I think I may prove quite barren a field,  admittedly. ”  

[walkpathe-arch]

the days after speer have been a blur,   one rin emerged from not looking particularly good.  or sane.  she is still nerve wrecked,  eyes darting to find the horizon,  not quite believing the absence of a weapon about to be turned on her,  on nikan as a whole.  she thinks she can almost see them,  those damn hesperian flying monstrosities,  an army of them dotting the sky.  there is nothing, of course,  the air is clear.  they won't come   (   for now.  the constant reminder,  a whisper that just won't go away   ).  they don't want to test how far a second trifecta is willing to go to protect their homeland.  how eagerly she would scorch them down to nothing.

@sunsfade's approach instantly makes rin tear her gaze away from the sky.  ishtar looks just like her nightmares,  vivid hesperian blue in her eyes:  that's your play? it's rather desperate.

rin hates looking at her.  she hates that she's right.  placing themselves as a barrier to stave off the hesperians is desperate,  even powerful as the three of them are,  and probably a big fuck you to all the books on war she used to study at sinegard   (   that was a different time,  even if she was already fighting for survival   ).  regardless,  it's this or she marches down on them,  burning the whole world in the wake or her vengeance until the flames consume her to nothing,  taking kitay with them.  there is no world where he survives her death,  she better remember that.  it is desperate,  but the thought of admitting it to her,  of all people,  makes her skin crawl.   '  it doesn't have to be good strategy,  it just has to work.  '   and then,  because defense is not her style,  rin finally settles her eyes on ishtar's face,  rather than just her frame,  her stare far from warm or welcoming.   '  i still don't understand why you're here.  this doesn't concern you.  '   a lone hesperian on nikara soil is not just strange to her,  it's also suspicious,  and the seed of paranoia is never far from her mind.

[khronoes]

cont. @sunsfade

she has the sense of being trapped.    the trees standing erect around her were akin to the bars of a prison cell and the light that filtered through in long beams were a promise of the next day.     aklla didn’t remember the quelled feeling like a cage but she couldn’t shake the chill in her spine as she pushed herself to rest her back against damp bark.    her bones groaned with years of stillness,   still waking from their slumber.     ❝    but we didn’t win.    ❞    the girl speaks matter-of-factly, always has. aklla’s face was a blank canvas,   unreadable as she stared out into the distance past ishtar’s silhouette.    it lacked the sorrow that one should experience at the thought of a loss so heavy.    a loss that came with bloodshed and the cost of lives.   a loss that came with the sacrifice of ancient lands.    a loss that had entirely changed their world.    she mulled over the other’s words and for a moment they sat in a punctuated silence.    the girl made more weapon than girl and the girl made more legend than girl.    ishtar’s laugh is a bird song and it snaps aklla’s attention back to her.    ❝    where do I find them ?    ❞    she wasted no time getting back on her feet,   despite the quiver of her body and the thick haze clouding her ever-moving thoughts.    ❝    the humans,    ❞    she clarified as she slowly rolled back her shoulders.    there’s a fire in the pit of her stomach and she recognizes it as anger.    the girl felt very little in her heart but the heat of rage had been embedded into her very making.    for all intents and purposes,   she was a gun,   smoking barrel and all.    ❝    take me to them,   or as far as you can take me.    and tell me,    ❞   she paused for a beat,    her coal eyes raising to meet glacial blues.     ❝    tell me about the war.    ❞