Castiel: *exists*

Castiel: *exists*

Season 4 Dean: This means nothing. I'm a hunter, and I'm sure these feelings will fade.

*11 years later*

Dean: Any day now

“Do not draw me without reason. Do not wield me without valor.”

Stackednatural- 131/327

Holy Terror (9x09) December 3rd, 2013

𝐃𝐀𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐒’ 𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐍

Making trade deals with Lhazar and the hinterlands and trying to sell the little that Meereen currently has.

“You spoke of help. Trade with me, then. Meereen has salt to sell, and wine …” “Ghiscari wine?” Xaro made a sour face. “The sea provides all the salt that Qarth requires, but I would gladly take as many olives as you cared to sell me. Olive oil as well.” “I have none to offer. The slavers burned the trees.” Olives had been grown along the shores of Slaver’s Bay for centuries; but the Meereenese had put their ancient groves to the torch as Dany’s host advanced on them, leaving her to cross a blackened wasteland. “We are replanting, but it takes seven years before an olive tree begins to bear, and thirty years before it can truly be called productive. What of copper?” “A pretty metal, but fickle as a woman. Gold, now … gold is sincere. Qarth will gladly give you gold … for slaves.” “Meereen is a free city of free men.”

Planting grapes and wheat and replanting olive trees.

“Our stores are ample for the moment,” he reminded her, “and Your Grace has planted beans and grapes and wheat. Your Dothraki have harried the slavers from the hills and struck the shackles from their slaves. They are planting too, and will be bringing their crops to Meereen to market. And you will have the friendship of Lhazar.”

Building an irrigation ditch to bring water to plant beans

“Not a hole. A ditch, to bring water from the river to the fields. We mean to plant beans. The beanfields must have water.”

Training knights and organizing the Brazen Beasts

“…Skahaz, make me a new watch, made up in equal parts of shavepates and freedmen.” “As you command. How many men?” “As many as you require.” Reznak mo Reznak gasped. “Magnificence, where is the coin to come from to pay wages for so many men?” “From the pyramids. Call it a blood tax. I will have a hundred pieces of gold from every pyramid for each freedman that the Harpy’s Sons have slain.”

Providing the refugees that come to Meereen with medical aid and food

“I will not turn away from them,” she said stubbornly. “A queen must know the sufferings of her people.”

Holding court herself, listening to and conciliating the needs and demands of both freedmen and former slavers and making several pro-freedmen decisions

Dany listened quietly, her face still. When he was done, she said, “What was the name of the old weaver?” “The slave?” Grazdan shifted his weight, frowning. “She was … Elza, it might have been. Or Ella. It was six years ago she died. I have owned so many slaves, Your Grace.” “Let us say Elza. Here is our ruling. From the girls, you shall have nothing. It was Elza who taught them weaving, not you. From you, the girls shall have a new loom, the finest coin can buy. That is for forgetting the name of the old woman.” Reznak would have summoned another tokar next, but Dany insisted that he call upon a freedman. Thereafter she alternated between the former masters and the former slaves. 

for @aegontheconquerorwithteats

Communing with dragons 🐉

"I know. Time slips through our fingers, love. We -"

Drogon's insistent chittering grew more frenzied. It poured into every crevice of her mind as it pierced the air while she spoke. His colossal body quivered with an urgency that soon filled her own being as if it could not be contained, and Rhaegal mirrored his brother's unease. With a quaking hand, she gestured for Jon to hush as she focused in on her dragon bond, their connection pulsating with a fiery intensity she hadn't known was possible. A torrent of images flooded her mind so fast she was dizzy. A plethora of confusing sensations threatened to overwhelm her senses as Drogon snarled, low and lethal.

Flashes of the battle from Rhaegal's and Drogon's eyes clashed, both dragons seething with a blazing fury borne from blood, magic, and battle, and it fed into her own waning ire, loosening the hold she had on herself. Beneath the enshrouded clouds, sinister shadows coalesced. A malevolent presence lurked amidst its darkest depths and stoked an inferno of rage within their mighty mounts. Whatever awaited them in the darkness, worrying even them. Shaking her head as though to dispel the nightmarish whirlwind of visions, she cut her eyes to Jon.

"The dragons can sense something brewing. Can you not feel it?"

Jon frowned, looking at his hands curled around Rhaegal's spikes, and she wanted to smile as his well-worn, brooding expression crossed his weary visage; a flickering flame danced in her chest as Rhaegal's mind pulled back from hers. Drogon swung his head from side to side, catching the scent of something far below and loosing an iracund growl as she waited, hating every second as Jon summoned his newly forged bond with the green dragon. Time crawled by as she held her breath, unblinking as she memorized the beautiful sight of him leaning into his Targaryen blood, and her own blood heated when Jon's head jerked to her, nodding as she smiled grimly.

"I can't discern its nature, but it reeks of their magic." Her husband said, voice thin as it clouded the chill air, and her heart plummeted into a bottomless pit of despair. An icy dread constricted her every breath, smothering her hopes in its relentless embrace. Bracing herself, she fortified her will and self-belief, drawing from Drogon's unwavering fury and strength as she prepared to confront the horrors awaiting them.

"We will not face it head-on, not yet, at least. But we have to find out what it is. Are you certain that you're both alright?"

His gaze fixated on her abdomen again as if he could see through the soft fur and hard metal cloaking their babe from winter's wrath. Anguish surged through her veins. It nearly consumed her, but she mustered the strength to nod. Drogon's majestic wings beat like thunderclaps, jolting her as the wind carried her whisper to Jon, "Together?"

With his nod of affirmation, she urged Drogon into a rapid, sharp descent as Jon did the same, her body suspended in a moment of sobering weightlessness as she clung to his spikes, fingers white-knuckled. Each passing second felt like an eternity, every too-quick pulse of her heart a countdown to their imminent demise if all went wrong, and they were a force of nature, unstoppable and untamed, hurtling straight into the heart of the battle. Twin pairs of immense wings unfurled in perfect synchrony, just as she could make out the decaying faces of the soulless army. She arced left while Jon sailed right. Rhaegal's flames engulfed her periphery as he and Jon carved a scorching path through the writhing mass of lifeless bodies advancing upon Winterfell.

Following their lead, Drogon's scales shimmered as he carried out her will, his deafening roar tearing through the night as he incinerated a swath of those skeletal abominations. The encroaching darkness, thick as tar, appeared impenetrable as they neared, a maleficent caul that wanted to suppress their very existence. Bolts of cobalt lightning fractured the obsidian veil, illuminating the marauding storm but revealing nothing to their paranoid eyes, and the twisting, menacing darkness whispered of their impending doom if they could not keep it at bay. Doubts pelted her, but she punched them aside; sheer force of will had brought her thus far, and it would not fail her now.

I just liked this part, that’s all 🥰

Stackednatural- 175/327

Various & Sundry Villains (13x12) February 1st, 2018