(☠) yo hoe hoe

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76heart
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(☠) yo hoe hoe

Post by 76heart » Tue Aug 11, 2020 6:48 am

jeyne and zakar
andrian and emmalia

10/10 not a creative title but
andrian and emmalia you try and hold back but you're still hoes together and then jeyne and zakar start with a sexy time and definitely beat all our other darlings to how quickly they get to that I think

title will also of course be changed when I have eyes that aren't blurry and a thread song for these four rabbits

Iris
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Zakar Vass—fire of this pirate’s wrath

Post by Iris » Tue Aug 18, 2020 7:32 am

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i. Captain Zakar Vassxxxxii. Malexxxxiii. Thirtyxxxxxiv. 5'11xxxxxv. Captain of the Jolly Roger

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Born in a small port town on the eastern coast of Dranaeyos, Zakar was the first and only child born to a traveling merchant and his wife. Accidentally conceived during a drunken home welcoming, Zakar was never planned but was loved nonetheless. He had a warm and happy childhood, remaining home with his mother early in his life, yet able to see his father when he regularly returned home. Still, even as a young child, Zakar longed to join his father on his ship, to experience life aboard the enticing vessel and to visit other places. After years of pestering, his parents relented when he was twelve, allowing him to join his father for the first time. Zakar was quick to become enchanted, enjoying little more than being in the open waters or visiting new places. He spent his teenage years joining on trips whenever he was allowed, helping on deck, and when at port, learning the hustle of a merchant with his father by day and methods of a less savory sort over cards and rum in the taverns by night. Shortly after he left home at nineteen, he met a captain looking for new crew, and sailed with the man for two years before going off on his own. With confidence, experience, and nearly a decade of hustling behind him, Zakar did well for himself, and by the age of twenty-six even found himself with his own ship. That wasn’t to say his path was an easy one, however, as it came at a cost, leading to the loss of a lover and his hand alike. Fueled forward by rum, ambition, and a hunger for revenge, Zakar persisted onward, his goals seeming closer within his grasp than ever when his services were requested by the presumed future Queen of Dranaeyos.

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Iris
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Emmalia Martell—the rapture in the dark

Post by Iris » Tue Aug 18, 2020 7:34 am

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i. Princess Emmalia of House Nymeros Martellxxxx ii. Femalexxxxiii. Twenty-eightxxxxiv. 5'9xxxxx

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Born to the prince of Sunspear and his wife, Emmalia was a welcome accident, the second child of two older parents who had welcomed a son twenty years prior and underestimated their chances of conceiving another child. Despite their joy at the time of her conception, however, circumstances were quick to change. Emmalia’s father died of a sudden heart attack when she was two years old, leaving her underprepared twenty-two year old brother as the head of the family and mother heartbroken beyond reasoning. Despite best intentions, her brother focused on his duties and her mother became consumed by grief, leaving Emmalia’s childhood a lonely one, with her father’s previous squire becoming the only true guardian figure in her life and her truest friend. Thankfully, things changed as she grew older, as puberty was kind to Emmalia. Clinging to the new attention she gained, Emmalia took a paramour at fifteen. It ended poorly and quickly, the decisions she made resulting in her permanent infertility. Following the end of the relationship, Emmalia spent the proceeding years satiating her strong carnal desires and need for connection through the accumulation of a harem and hosting grand orgies with the many women she would meet, practices she would become most known for. It wasn’t until she was twenty-three that her lifestyle changed, spurred on by the death of her brother which left her and her grieving mother with Emmalia’s beloved and newly orphaned nephew. The death caused her to finally take on responsibility, and Emmalia was quick to take on the toddler’s care, caring for her nephew as if he was her own. Life was stable, her nephew her world, until it was disrupted two years later when a violent drunken night left Emmalia under the care of a maester for the months that followed, a time in which Emmalia made arrangements for her nephew to be fostered by family in House Targaryen Martell. Without her nephew when she recovered, Emmalia nearly returned to the same lifestyle she had held before him, but was milder, as her years with the boy and experiences had undeniably changed her.

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76heart
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(☠) captain jeyne avelley

Post by 76heart » Tue Aug 18, 2020 7:40 am

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━━━f  o  r     the━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
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━━━━━━━━━━━━━━in     h  e  r━━━━━
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━━━━━;━Image
━━━━━━━ m                                 y━━━━━━━
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━b   r   i   n   g      it   down━━━━━━━━
━━━━━━━━━━━━on      m    y     head━━
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captain jeyne avelley is a pirate at the age of
twenty-eight, and height of five feet, seven inches,
with a rather sordid and sorry past. her tale began
when her mother- a lady's handmaid- found herself in
love with a pirate, who only saw her as a mere fling to
pass the time. when it was discovered she had come of
their time together, he fled back to his only love, the
sea, and left his daughter to be with the only thing he
would ever give her besides heartbreak; a pirate's coin.
her mother worked hard to raise her as the perfect
lady all on her own, and gave everything for jeyne so
she could have the good life she never, though no
matter what her mother did, a part of her always felt
missing, and longed to be out on the seas. as she grew
into a young woman, she thought that missing part of
her had finally been found. she began a dalliance with
a highborn boy who soon promised to marry her, but
on the day, never showed up. instead, it was her
father who met her, finally deigning to find her and
claim her as his own. her offered her a role amongst
his motley crew, and heartbroken, against her
mother's wise words of caution, she accepted. for
years, he taught her everything he knew, until she
found out the truth about the day he found her; that
he had paid her promised to leave her, and only
intended to use her. furious, she left, vowing revenge,
and commandeered her own ship and crew under the
guise of a man. though she can't trust them enough to
reveal her secret, she values her crew, and they
serve her well. jeyne is clever and skilled with a sword,
and able to switch between the facades of a pirate
captain and lady with ease. she has been spurned, and
has no plans to let anyone betray her ever again.




























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gifs © rightful owners
face claim © keira knightley
song © shallow river
- the crane wives
character © 76heart

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76heart
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(☠) king andrian stark

Post by 76heart » Sat Oct 10, 2020 5:27 am

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━━i'd   p  r  o  b  a  b  l  y━━━━━━━
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━━━━━━━━━━━━━━of bringing━
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━━━━until  i'd   s e e   the━━━━
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andrian stark, king of the north, is a playful father at
the age of thirty-six, and height of six feet. he was
set to rule from the day he entered the world, but
never became quite what his parents wanted him to
be. instead of studying and learning to use a sword,
he was off galavanting with his closest friend, the
daughter of his mother's handmaiden, and as he
grew into a young man, he was off wooing many
women too. eventually, when he was twenty-three,
his parents began to pressure him to marry and
take a wife, and because they would not give him
the time to find someone who held his heart, he
married his best friend. it was a completely and
entirely platonic arrangement- with the two not
even sharing a room-, and they had an agreement
that if one was to find their other half, they were
free to be with them and the other would support
them without condition. however, it wasn't long
before a different pressure was thrust upon them,
and they had to do their royal duty. a year later not
long after andrian turned twenty-four, their twins
were born, and they became the light of his world.
they were promptly named bael and cayra, and it
was near impossible to tear him from their side. he
couldn't have been happier, nor more determined to
make them smile, and for two years their lives were
a bliss, until his dearest friend fell ill with a sickness
she did not survive, and he was left to raise their
children alone. his heart was broken, but he never
let his children see, and spent his days trying to
make them, and those around them, smile. his
attempts often resulted in quite risky antics, but he
always managed to emerge unscathed, and carried
on devoting his life to fatherhood and his children.



























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gifs © me
face claim © aidan turner
song © suffocate - nathan wagner
character © 76heart

Iris
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Seas be Ours | I

Post by Iris » Thu Dec 24, 2020 6:39 pm

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A man was dead, another maimed, an old map had been stolen from a sorry order of presumably ancient virgins, and everything about the entire affair was decidedly fucked. In other words, the Captain of the Jolly Roger had plenty to celebrate before setting sail from Oldtown, and he had just the thing in mind.

xxxxxxx There was something about the atmosphere of an indisputably disreputable port tavern that felt universal. In some ways, it felt like a home to the pirate who had known so many. Not in the way a ship did as it lulled to and fro, creaking softly under the pressure of the wind and waves alike as it heeled leeward in a familiar lullaby on the calmest of nights, or the crisp whistle of the boom as it swung sharply in open air over rough seas, but it felt like a home of a different sort all the same. It didn’t matter where it was or what company was kept within the walls. Whether it was The Salty Maid, a shabby little dive in the small town of Viciras nestled in to the eastern coast of Dranaeyos in which Zakar had spent more than his share of nights through his youth, one of the larger establishments nestled more southbound in to the coast, or even an unforgiving sea away, to the east of what had been his world for the first few decades of his life, it made no difference. No matter where the tavern was, no matter how near or far from home, there was an unshakable familiarity once within it, and as the pirate made his way through the dimly lit doorway that held the sign of The Measly Pig, it felt like more of the same.
xxxxxxx Far from the shore of his first home, mere streets from his true home, and yet as he stepped inside, he could have been anywhere. The warm room welcomed him in a yawn, salty evening air mixing swiftly with the familiar scent of fresh and aged leather as it mingled with the spice of rum and various perfumes, all of which adequately covered the underlying stench of vomit and body odor that never truly left a place such as this. Well, somewhat adequately. It was something one became accustomed to. As his eyes quickly adjusted to the new atmosphere, to the tavern he had never visited before that night, his expectations were promptly met. Boisterous occupants spread throughout the floor, women and men in a flurry of faces, all illuminated by dim flame throughout the room, speaking and laughing and drinking amongst themselves. Not particularly wholesome, likely anything but, but rather comfortable and familiar. Like home. “Cap’n!” The familiar voice met Zakar’s ears before his eyes had found them, but it took only a moment for him to locate the source once they spoke even in the lively room. He was a short man, standing nearly half a foot shorter than Zakar who himself was of average height, but he was a sturdy man, one of muscle and of substance of the sort one acquired at his age after spending decades at sea as a deck hand. Even sturdier, perhaps, was his voice, one that boomed flights above him. Boomed, even, beyond the slur that marked his words, one that the captain could never be certain the origin of. Whether he had been drinking or sober, it was always there, the mark of a man who had survived long enough for a lifetime of rum to mark him for the remainder of life. Something to aspire to.
xxxxxxx “Everythin’ a’right, Cap’n?” With steady eyes, the man stood from the table to which Zakar’s eyes flickered. Two other men from his crew who had been given leave for the evening, not without cause or consideration, sat on one of the benches pushed to the table. The group of his men appeared to be joined by even more women, their faces predictably foreign to the captain from but a world away, but even then, he knew hired whores when he saw them. Two of the women at least he was certain of, the two nestled between the two seated deckhands- they were certainly working hard tonight, and joined by three others who seemed far less likely the type to sell themselves. Two of them hovered the table, perched intently to speak or witness whatever was happening at the table before Zakar had entered, though their eyes had seemed to follow the man as he stood. The other woman sat on the opposing bench, now by herself.
xxxxxxx A natural grin tugged at the captain’s features as his eyes moved back to the man who stood before him. “Aye, Brom,” he confirmed, moving towards the table that was toward the front of the space, but off to the side from the entrance. As he neared, Brom’s body followed, and Zakar flung an arm over the other man, the thick dark leather of his jacket pressed against him as Zakar pulled him to his side as if they were drunken friends speaker conspiratorially. Well, it wasn’t too far off, even if Zakar had yet to touch alcohol that evening. Zakar liked Brom more than he cared for most of his crew, after all, something of a fondness for him forming when the pair had first met in The Salty Maid years before on a night where he watched him hustle a couple of drunken fools of their silver while downing twice the rum as them. It would be years later that the two would first come to even board the same ship, let alone come to find themselves in their current positions, but that fondness still stood. Well, relative fondness, if Zakar was asked. If such a circumstance were to arise, he might even be merely tolerable. Naturally, that didn’t bode well for much of the crew beyond him.
xxxxxxx His right hand resting on the other man’s shoulder, the thick bands of the warm silver rings he was scarcely found without pressed in to the rough material of Brom’s shirt as he patted him. “Our patroness shall be pleased,” he added with a grin, the amusement in his tone as clear as the calmest of seas. Ah, yes, their patroness. An ocean away, out of even the most vigilant sight, but hardly out of mind. He could still remember the first time he met the woman. Dragons didn’t often fly freely and without purpose over the open waters of the eastern coast, and the towns he spent time in were far from the castles of House Targaryen, generally speaking. Zakar wasn’t a man who found himself easily impressed- not anymore, not often, and yet that had been the first time he had spotted one of the great beasts of the Valyrian descended ruling family. It was only natural, he thought, to be impressed by such a sight, for such a vision of potential destruction to be engrained in his memory. The woman who rode it, however, was notably less so. A vision of silver hair and violent violet eyes, she stood out apart from any other woman he had ever laid eyes on, and she was a princess, the future Queen of Dranaeyos whenever she and her brother started fucking and swore that infamous eternal vow to the gods as that family was apt to do among themselves. Yet, though her name and scaled companion spoke for themselves, despite any beauty or clear ambition that he often found alluring, there was a simple reality he just couldn’t get past, a truth that knocked her down far beyond her station. She had employed him, paid for his service to sail to Westeros with his crew and fetch a map being brought to the Citadel of Oldtown, and had trusted him to return the dusty article without question. Only a fool of the outside would trust a pirate.
xxxxxxx At the moment, however, that didn’t matter, and likely would prove to be of increasingly little importance as the night went on, let alone when day would break and the Jolly Roger would find its way from Oldtown. The task had been accomplished early that evening by Zakar and two of his men to keep a lower profile, the map securely concealed beneath his jacket, much of the crew was already preparing the ship to leave port, and Zakar’s first mate, Smee, had certainly already tucked the accompanying documents taken during the heist of a sort in Zakar’s captain quarters to be addressed after preparations and celebrations. Speaking of which... “Now, where’s the rum?” The sudden question elicited good spirited laughs among his men, Brom’s booming voice naturally the loudest. With one last rough pat, Zakar pushed off the man, striding to the table and finding his place on an empty spot on the near empty bench close to the woman who had been abandoned by Brom, though Brom was quick to rejoin the group as well, sitting beside her and opposite Zakar.
xxxxxxx It didn’t take long for Zakar to locate the rum. It was pushed forward before Zakar was even well seated by the man across from him who himself seemed to have been enjoying it for some time, judging by how he flushed. Asking no questions, Zakar didn’t hesitate to help himself. The rum went down smoothly, through his familiarity with the substance and, presumably, aided along by being of a better quality than he was accustomed. Zakar went through quite a bit of rum, and sometimes the rum being sold in smaller ports... it wasn’t always quite to the standard that could often be found in larger cities. It seldom ever was. He returned to the rum twice before his left hand jutted out, a steel hook out stretching from beneath his jacket in place of a hand he had lost some years before. The curve of his hook wrapped with ease around a small cup turned upside down, dragging it closer to himself before flipping it with his right hand, revealing the suspected pair of dice underneath. Going in for another swig of the rum before him, he gave a slow look around the group with a brow raised and a smirk at the corner of his lips. “What’s the wager?”


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