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nectardaddy · 7 months ago

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Foolish [J. Kirstein x reader] 2

language, (of age) drinking

-- Tunes: Supermassive Black Hole ; Muse Gimme More ; Britney Spears

The warm air around the man engulfed him like a blanket, wrapping around him and whisking away any ounce of chill there was. There was a light breeze blowing by as his boots made contact with the ground, grass crunching underneath of him. It was a short walk to your dorm, not even five minutes, but he found himself feeling nervous like a little boy again. He had made this walk more times than he could count on his hands, and each time he gave himself the same nerves over and over. 'What if I fuck it up?' 'What if she only said yes because I was a little pushy, will she ever hang out with me again?' Rattling off 'what if's in his mind as if it were a hobby made his head spin.

Seeing your residence hall now in view, he thought his heart might give out from being so anxious. Though he truly had nothing to worry about regarding you, but he was so deeply unaware of your own emotions. It wasn't as if he was unaware of his own, he was absolutely head over heels for you. But he wouldn't tell for the sole feeling of cold, hard rejection - something he was well aware hurt like hell. Sure, he dappled in the dating scene here and there but nothing else felt quite as right as you and you alone.

With a deep breath, and a silly 'you can do this,' he began his climb up the stairs. Stepping up each and every one felt like ages before he was finally on your hall. Your dorm building was a bit nicer than his own, a bit newer, and a lot more cleaner. Finally stopping at your door, your name sketched in cursive on a blue piece of paper, he took another deep breath. Raking his long hair back, and lifting his hand to knock, he had to pretend he had everything under control.

His knuckles hit the cool wood three times before he heard a muffled 'just come in,' that made his fear melt away. Though every time it happened like this: he would invite you to do something, he would utterly devastate himself with his thoughts on the way over, and everything was fine when he finally saw you. A never ending cycle that gave him whiplash. Twisting the door knob, he let himself in, knocking his boots off by the toe before stepping in.

His eyes meeting yours, his lips pulled into a smile. "Are you ready?" He asked, drinking in your features as he simply couldn't help himself from looking you over.

"I think so?" You asked, rather to yourself than to him. You watched as his eyes traveled down you and back up, making you let out a small breath. "Jeez- I don't look you down like that Jean."

Even hearing his own name fall from your lips made his heart squeeze, an almost suffocating feeling. "Maybe you should," he mused. "I'm pretty damn fine if I do say so myself."

"You're too much," you chuckled, a smile pulling on your lips that made his own widen. "Who's party are we going to anyway?"

"I dunno', Connie just sent me where it is," he shrugged. Rolling your eyes, you looked yourself over a final time. "You look great," he mused. Turning your gaze to him once more he watched as your smile grew a bit more, but also became a little flustered.

"I look tired," you retorted. But he couldn't help but notice you stood a little straighter, felt a bit more confident just from his words alone. He thoroughly enjoyed he was able to have that effect on you, he often times wished he could shower you in compliments. But the risk of scaring you off was too great in his mind.

"Don't we all though?" He asked rhetorically. Turning a bit, but not having his back completely to you, he stepped towards your door. "Now come on, we have a party to go to." He felt his hand touch your waist gently as he ushered you towards the door, immediately second guessing himself but not removing it. In his mind the damage had already been done, if you hated him for it you would've already decided it. He didn't let his hand linger longer, as he didn't want to further his own suffocating feelings, and he dropped it to his side as you went out the door. "It's only a ten minute walk, if that's cool?" He asked, taking a pause from his thoughts, "that way we can both drink and not even worry about who's driving."

With a simple shrug, you looked over at him, "works for me." Jean had a considerable amount of height against you, having to look up a bit just to speak to him. "Please don't let me get too drunk," you pleaded as you walked alongside him. "I have to finish that paper tomorrow."

Giving you a cheeky smile as he looked over to you, he chuckled. "I'll try my best," he assured. "But you have a nasty habit of stealing my drinks." The man couldn't be more right about your bad habit at parties. Often times asking him for 'just a sip' of his own drink and downing the whole thing from drunken lack of control. He really didn't know why he still complied, as you asked almost every time you went out with him. Maybe it was because you asked so sweetly, giving him a smile he simply couldn't resist. Or the fact the man couldn't bear saying no to you.

Rolling your eyes once more, you let out a chuckle. "I don't know what you're talking about," you denied; but wholeheartedly knew for a fact he was right. You knew the man could never say no to you, figuring the charm about him simply wouldn't allow him to. But you also knew the man would never do something nefarious, feeling more comfortable taking his own drink than anyone else's, or even letting anyone else get you a drink. Time and time again, he and a handful of others, have proven their ability in nonchalantly keeping you safe, even if you did slip and make a bad decision.

There was a pause in the conversation as you both stepped outside, feeling a lull that neither of you were particularly irritated with. The air was warm, a warmth that kissed every exposed part of skin you had and made it melt with content. The walk wasn't entirely bad either, being a straight shot to another building. But you rolled your eyes hard upon seeing where exactly the party was, "you aren't taking me to a frat house, are you?"

Sucking in the air through his teeth, he gave you a sheepish smile. "There wasn't many options tonight, and Connie knows people here." His excuse was lame, but one you took with a sigh as you continued walking. "Some of our friends should be here though," he reassured. "I know Sasha went with Connie, so it won't be a drag."

"I need to be drunk to deal with most of the people here," you groaned. You and fraternity houses simply didn't get along. It wasn't the organization that irked you, it was the people who inhabited the house. Most men being sloppy, pushy, and all together a terrible time left a bad taste in your mouth. It really was a mixed bag of people, but most annoyed you beyond belief.

The closer the two of you got to the house, the louder the music that radiated from it became. The juxtaposition of the inside to the out was astounding though; the outside being relatively quiet despite the music and no one lingered, but you could see people from the windows dancing and participating in other drunken activities. You weren't a complete stranger to parties such as this, a little too wild but otherwise still a good time. But you much rather liked smaller get-togethers, a more quant feeling than drunk strangers bumping into you.

Upon entering, the bass in the air made your eardrums hurt, the music all together too loud as you were too sober. The area was crowded, and people your age crammed together so tightly made the air hot and sticky. "Ugh-" you groaned, looking up at the man in discontent. With a smile, he leaned down a bit, reaching your ear so you would be able to hear him.

"I'll get you a drink," he assured, his voice hitting your ear and making you tense. Dark and low like it always was, but hearing it so close made you want to melt directly onto the floor. "We'll find Connie and Sasha after, cool?"

Giving him a nod, you watched as he made his way through people to find any semblance of alcohol. As he disappeared, your eyes flickered over your surrounds and scanned the area. Drunken people dancing on each other, with others, or simply by themselves made you bite your lip. There were way too many people here you didn't know, nor did you really want to get to know. You weren't rude, but certainly standoffish, as you moved to the far corner of the room you were closest to. You felt eyes pierce you, but quickly leave as people passed by.

The place was relatively dark, and the music entirely too loud which made you a bit disoriented. You hoped all would get better when you had a drink and found your friends. But you were pulled from your thoughts as a loud, feminine, voice called for you, "(Y/n)! You came!" The voice yelled happily, seeing as it was a familiar face, you smiled.

"Hey, Sasha," you mused before she pulled you into a strong hug. You had met the woman through Jean, and thoroughly enjoyed every interaction and class you've had with her. Feeling her pull away, you did as well, and watched her smile turn to a grin.

"You're here with Jean right?" She asked, but neglected to give you enough time to answer. She already knew. You had let it slip to her that you liked the man within a drunken stupor, spilling your secrets as if she was an old friend from childhood. But the woman had found it incredibly endearing, and didn't dare tease you on such a thing. "Where's he at?" She asked as her eyes scanned over people before looking back to you.

"Getting drinks," you replied, "we just got here." Your voice seemed quiet, even though you knew you were raising it over the music. You had to lean in closer to the brunette just for her to hear anything you were saying. "Isn't Connie here too?"

"Somewhere around here," she chuckled. "He's already drunk and probably found someone to dance with. Poor soul, I hope they can get over that he doesn't have a lick of rhythm."

Laughing at her words, your eyes flickered to the sea of people. You hoped you would see Connie with his certain lack of rhythm, but sighed when you couldn't. "I hope he starts rapping to them like he did last time."

A howl of laughter left Sasha at your comment. "Holy shit that was so funny! I have a video of it too!"

"Please," you let out another laugh, "send it to me! It's too good!" The woman pulled her phone from her pocket and started scrolling viciously, this woman had pictures and videos of everything imaginable. She saved everything. Pulling out your own phone to make sure you got the video, your attention was taken. But pulled back soon after at a gentle touch to your arm, making you look over.

Brown eyes meeting yours, you sighed in relief at the drinks he was holding. "I made it myself, so be careful," he spoke with a chuckle. Not heeding his advice as you took the cup from him, you took a rather large sip of the drink. Feeling the sting of liquor hitting the back of your throat mixed with strawberry flavoring made you cough. "I told you!"

"Fucking hell, Jean-" you spoke, a laugh now bubbling over. "I think you're trying to kill me." Nonetheless, you took another sip.

#aot porco #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk #aot #aot x reader #jean kirstein x reader #jean x reader #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirstein #jean kirschtien

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ashintheairlikesnow · 1 year ago

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I would love to see more Chris, and especially with Branch now we know that bastard is deep in the ground

Yeah, Oliver Branch is so very, very, very dead. That was a fun day for us all.

CW: Creepy whumper, intimate whumper, Oliver Branch is gross, BBU, forced alcohol consumption, minor whump (whumpee is 17), some gross implications here

"They should have a Pets Unlimited feature," His Sir muses, stirring the little stick with the olive speared through it around and around the slightly-tinted liquid in his martini glass. Baldur watches it, his mind too slow and foggy for the words to sink in immediately.

There's a delay before Baldur, kneeling on the floor before his Sir's chair, tips his chin to look up. At first, Sir is blurry and completely out of focus, but when he tries, slowly the details come together. "... a what?"

"Oh, probably not that, I'm sure they'd get sued for copyright infringement," Sir hums, picking up the toothpick and biting the olive right off, bleu cheese stuffing and all. He leans down and feeds Baldur some of the olive-stained vodka, until the boy coughs and Sir laughs at him, stabbing another olive from a little bowl on the table beside him and feeding Baldur that, too.

The squeak of olive and tang of the blue-veined cheese makes his stomach turn, but Baldur refuses to show it. He hates olives, but Sir likes them, so Baldur has to like them, too.

"But..." Sir hums, sitting back. His legs, kicked out on either side of Baldur, shift around behind him, locking his ankles to pull the boy closer, until he's pressed right up against the fabric of the chair. "You know what I mean."

Baldur has no idea whatsoever.

But he nods, slowly, keeping his eyes firmly focused on his Sir's face.

"I don't think I could afford it even if they did. Hell, for all I know the damn concept is already in place, and I'm just not rich enough or enough of the 'in group' to be offered." Sir laughs, a deep, rich, warm chuckle that runs like honey down Baldur's back, settles into his mind and smothers his thoughts. His eyes close as Sir pets fingers through his copper hair, shivering. He thinks he likes the touch.

He doesn't.

But he has to, so he does.

"Order one, keep it until I'm done with it, until you're too old, until you start to look your age... then send you back and get the next one. I'd pay for that kind of convenience, if I could. Which I can't. But wouldn't it be nice?"

These words, he knows. These words aren't honey - they are sharp and spiky, terror that has his eyes flying back open. He puts his hands on Sir's knees and shifts upwards, straightening his spine. "Sir? You... you would... send me back?"

The fear breaks through the daze he lives his days in, the only feeling he has with any strength anymore. He used to feel other things, he thinks, besides fear and the odd need that gets forced out of him. He's sure he did. Once.

"Oh, Baldur, darlin'." Sir sighs, as if he's being silly, a stupid little slut with no thoughts in his mind. He rubs a thumb along the line of Baldur's jaw, along his bottom lip, watches with amusement as Baldur tries to follow it, to somehow earn the forever that is supposed to be part of the promise of the program.

You signed up for this, and now you'll be taken care of.

"Sir..." He whispers, desperate for reassurance.

What he gets instead is Sir's smile, widening like a monster's until it feels too big for his face, and Baldur can only go still and silent as the glass is tipped against his mouth again, and the vodka burns down his throat and runs cold out of the corners of his mouth, trickling over his jaw and down his neck.

He chokes on it.

It's too much too fast, as much in his lungs as down his esophagus. He coughs, bent over with the force of it, and droplets spatter across Sir's pants and his shirt. Baldur's eyes burn, his heart pounds, and he gasps. "Oh... oh, no... Sir, I, I'm sorry-"

"Ssssshhhhh. It's all right, sweetheart, don't worry... it's all right..." Sir shakes his head. "It's okay, darlin'."

Baldur's mouth is trembling and he can't stop the little coughs that keep bubbling up, how his stomach flips and drops. He can't throw up. He can't. He'll be whipped bloody if he does, he always is when he throws up. His fingers tighten into Sir's pants until his knuckles are white as he fights the violence his stomach keeps threatening.

Sir waits, patient as a tiger watching prey take a drink at a stream, fingers moving gently through Baldur's hair, again and again.

Only when Baldur goes quiet, finally getting his body until control, does Sir murmur, "I wonder who'll find you when I'm done, and what they'll do to you, then."

His smile is soft and sweet and Baldur stares up into his eyes helplessly, hating every single second. This time, it's the vodka bottle that he forces against Baldur's lips. It's pure clear burn that he has to swallow. The world dips and spins around him, but his heart keeps racing.

"... I wonder," Sir says, voice nearly a whisper, "How long you'll live when I don't want you anymore."

God, I'm so glad that guy is dead now.

#whump #bbu #box boy #box boy universe #chris the strawberry blond romantic #baldur whump #oliver branch is gross #intimate whumper #creepy whumper #sadistic whumper #forced drinking #forced alcohol consumption #alcohol use tw #whump of a minor #just me enjoying a lovely day of Showing Once Again Why Chris Hates Olives and Martinis #and has such a strong trauma response to them

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spacefinch · 1 year ago

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Assigning a song to EVERY Magic School Bus episode

Gets Lost in Space-- "Space Oddity" by David Bowie

For Lunch-- "The Bloodmobile" by They Might Be Giants

Inside Ralphie-- "Girl at the Window" by Coast Office (my dad's band!)

Gets Eaten-- "Axolotl" by Cosmo Sheldrake

Hops Home-- "We're Going to Be Friends" by the White Stripes

Meets the Rot Squad-- "Everybody Wants To Rule The World" by Tears for Fears

All Dried Up-- "Solar Waltz" by Cosmo Sheldrake

In the Haunted House-- "The Edison Museum" by They Might Be Giants

Gets Ready, Set, Dough-- "American Pie" by Don McLean

Plays Ball-- "All Star" by Smash Mouth

Goes to Seed-- "Tree Among Shrubs" by Men I Trust

Gets Ants in its Pants-- "Tardigrade Song" by Cosmo Sheldrake

Kicks Ups a Storm-- "Mr. Blue Sky" by Electric Light Orchestra

Blows Its Top-- "Island in the Sun" by Weezer

Flexes Its Muscles-- "Bones" by Imagine Dragons

The Busasaurus-- "I Am a Paleontologist" by They Might Be Giants

Going Batty-- "This is Halloween" by Danny Elfman

Butterfly and the Bog Beast-- "Solar" by Cosmo Sheldrake

Wet All Over "Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head" by B.J. Thomas

In a Pickle-- "The Room Where It Happens" from Hamilton

Revving Up-- "Chemical Worker's Song" by Great Big Sea

Taking Flight-- "Never Let Me Down Again" by Depeche Mode

Getting Energized-- "Erie Canal" (Traditional folk song)

Out of This World-- "Love Don't Roam" by Neil Hannon

Cold Feet-- "Muted Land" by Faith and The Muse

Ups and Downs-- "All That Glitters" by Earl

In a Beehive-- "Buildings In Flower" by The Innocence Mission

In the Arctic-- "California Dreamin'" by The Mamas and the Papas

Spins a Web-- "Metropolis of Eden" by Sparkbird

Under Construction-- "We Built This City" by Starship

Gets a Bright Idea-- "Kill the Lights" by Set it Off

Shows and Tells-- "Time in a Bottle" by Jim Croce

Makes a Rainbow-- "Sunny" by Marvin Gaye

Goes Upstream-- "500 Miles" by The Proclaimers

Works Out-- "Good to Go" by LONIS and Daphne Willis

Gets Planted-- "The Moss" by Cosmo Sheldrake

In the Rainforest-- "Shadow of the Pines" by The Innocence Mission

Rocks and Rolls-- "Ain't No Mountain High Enough" by Marvin Gaye

Holiday Special-- "I Search For Tomorrow" by Leonard Nimoy

Meets Molly Cule-- "Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (A Man After Midnight)" by ABBA

Cracks a Yolk-- "Daily" by The Innocence Mission

Goes to Mussel Beach-- "Pelicans We" by Cosmo Sheldrake

Goes on Air-- "Toxic" by Britney Spears

Gets Swamped-- "Spock Thoughts" by Leonard Nimoy

Goes Cellular-- "Cells" by They Might Be Giants

Sees Stars-- "Space Song" by Beach House

Gains Weight-- "Planet Earth" by Duran Duran

Makes a Stink

Gets Charged-- "Make a Circuit With Me" by the Polecats

Gets Programmed-- "Rule #4: Fish in a Birdcage" by Fish in a Birdcage

In the City-- "November" by Sparkbird

Takes a Dive-- "Taroko" by August Greenwood

This list took me almost 2 consecutive hours to write, so please feel free to send me asks so I can talk about why I chose the songs I did.

#magic school bus #list #music #songs #big shout out to tmbg and cosmo sheldrake for having so many magic school bus coded songs

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ofglories · 8 months ago

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BLINDSIDED + lancethur!

|| Glimpses of the Past prompts ; accepting! send BLINDSIDED for a scene from my muse's past in which they were betrayed or shocked by what someone did

It had been his mistake for trusting the man, to begin with.

Accolon had seemed like a good ally to have. He was cousins with the Lady Guinevere, she had even vouched for his character with a smile and Arthur trusted her judgement. She was, after all, a good friend to him and his husband, having argued ferociously on his behalf with the various lords who had expressed discontent with a "farm boy" who was married to another man becoming king. And, for a while, things had gone as she insisted they would. For all intents and purposes Accolon had been an excellent knight, obedient and calm and always ready to offer a hand to anyone who needed it.

Such a good act.

Even Guinevere had been fooled by the mask her cousin wore so well.

The day had been clear and warm, a gentle and steady breeze blowing ceaselessly. A perfect sort of day to do some hunting, the exactly what Arthur and a select few of his knights were currently doing. A small herd of wild boar had been causing troubles for a nearby village and, with the dangers such creatures could bring...

Well, knights were a better choice than some farmers with spears and bows.

It should have been a simple hunt. These were ordinary boars, things were fairly peaceful in this part of the kingdom, and so what was there to fear?

The blow to the back of his head while investigating a suspect spot Accolon led him to was entirely unexpected. But the greatest betrayal was once he opened his eyes again, groaning in pain as he blinked the spots from his vision. A weight stretched across his chest, his shoulders burning. Chains stretched across his body, pinning him to a cold stone wall. Arthur hissed softly, turning his head to meet the calmly amused gaze of...

"Accolon? What's going on?" the king questioned, eyes narrowing as a pit opened in his stomach. One that only grew larger at the sight of the smile growing across the man's face.

"Don't worry, Arthur, nothing terrible will happen to you." A ring was being spun around in the knight's hands, glinting with the light of magic. "This is what's best for the land, you see. I'll replace you, and in a few days you'll be found by... Hm. Well, let's leave who your new lord will be a surprise, hm?"

It sent a chill down his spine. Arthur scowled, straining against the chains.

"Bedivere and Kay will never-!"

"Oh, don't worry about them. They won't suffer any harm either, little farm boy." Laughing softly, Accolon stood and gently patted Arthur's cheek with a condescending grin. "Maybe if you behave, I'll send your husband your way in good time. Your new lord will doubtless be pleased with two prizes. But, for now, I must leave." With a bow the traitor turned and walked away towards the door across the room, slipping the ring onto his finger as he did so.

And, with a horrified inhale, Arthur watched as the man's figure shifted, becoming his own in the pale light given off by the opened doorway. Then the door was slammed shut, an echoing click signifying his imprisonment in full.

To think, he'd trusted that bastard...

#messages on birdwing; asks #toadmiretoweepover #an endless tale; headcanon #twelve seals unleashed; arthur pendragon #the one who stands upon the world's end; lancer verse #no matter the timeline accolon is a traitor-#kjsfbhsdf though in this one he had to study magic and make the ring himself-#yeah he was definitely gonna sell out arthur and camelot to lucius including literally selling arthur to him #thank god for bedi and kay catching on quick

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pendarling · 9 months ago

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Star-Crossed Forever

Wasp x Honeybee

She pushed her way through the thick garden and climbed on top of a petal of a rose. Her body was breathless, and her eyes strained to keep looking forward, but she saw an endless field of flowers and gorgeous arrays of plants around her.

It would have been a beautiful occasion, but she was just a lost honeybee, and this was not anywhere near her home. She readjusted the bag slung onto the side of her body and whined when she could barely move from all the flying she'd done. She could've sworn the hive was in this direction; this was her first time getting pollen, and she already wanted to quit. The last time she did this, her friend insisted she stay close to the rest of them. Many other dangerous insects and predators died in the wild, dying to get a taste of them.

Honeybee stood cluelessly gazing at the garden for any clues until a loud buzzing caught her senses in the air. She turned around and met what looked to be a familiar figure. Bright yellows and black patterned his uniform, but her relief quickly turned into panic as soon as she noticed the clear distinction.

"And what's a honeybee doing here in wasp territory?" Wasp donned a large spear and a menacing smile. It was an unsettling reminder of his fierce protectiveness.

She didn't back down and stood firmly in position, although it wasn't a position she was confident she could maintain. Honeybee had never fought a wasp before, and the thought made her stomach turn. "Please… I just wanted to get back home." Her body trembled with fear at the prospect of getting hurt.

"You did?" He tilted his head to the side and chuckled softly, "Bullshit."

"But I am!" she took a step forward and then another immediately back again, hoping he didn't feel too tempted to hurt her. "I was just… lost…"

He licked his lips and gazed at the sky, "Well, where's the rest of your people then, huh?"

"I don't know…" she murmured, feeling her eyes blur already. She was never trained to fight, only to collect pollen like all her sisters.

He took a step toward her, slowly eyeing her shivering figure. A striped fuzzy pattern behind her accentuated her hips, and upon further inspection, she was rather pleasing to look at. Wasp circled Bee momentarily, clicking his tongue and taking her in, "Why, you're not anything like what I expected." He hummed.

Her throat turned dry. It felt like she'd been trapped in Wasp's presence for hours. "Please let me go."

He ignored her cry for help and watched for a few more seconds. He knew he would win in a battle between them, if it could even be considered a battle. Her uniform was similar to his own, albeit it was made with more hooks and straps to help her carry the pollen she'd collect at the end of the day. His antennas twitched with excitement at seeing her fear.

A few drips of tears ran down her blushing cheeks. "Aww, don't cry, sweetie," he came close enough to her, her face at his chest level and her head forced to look up at his imposing stance as he gently lifted her chin in his hand. She flinched instinctively, every muscle in her body freezing up instantly. "Shhh… don't worry. I know what I'm doing." He whispered lowly under his breath.

Her eyes danced around her vision, looking at the eternal flower bed for any sign of her group coming to look for her, only to be met with the blissful peacefulness of the field.

Her breath came out in ragged parts, and her eyes widened with something so intense that she wasn't entirely sure. She wanted to speak, but something held her back; maybe it was Wasp's intense gaze or their proximity, but this beating in her chest was undeniably thrilling.

"You know, for a honeybee, you sure are a lot cuter than anything other female I've met." She stood still, not out of shock but simply because she didn't know how else to respond to it. He wiped her tears with a thumb, moving it to his lips and licking it. "Even your tears taste sweet." He mused in delight.

Her thoughts raced in anticipation of being so close to a wasp without getting hurt. They were all supposed to be territorial of their spaces. How could a wasp of all things fall so quickly for a honeybee?

"But we're different species." She spoke gently, then instantly looked to the floor, fearing the repercussions of her talking so suddenly.

Instead, Wasp chuckled at the response and pulled away from her. "Aren't you a smart little thing, hm?" He planted his tall spear into the centre of the flower, and the action made her wince slightly. "Say, I think I can help you find your way back home." He lowered his gaze to her and rested his hands naturally on each side of her hips.

She blushed feverishly, "O-oh um… I don't know if I can be seen with a wasp," she whispered the last part and looked at him hesitantly.

"Who cares if a little bee gets tangled up with a wasp like me?" His gloved hands climbed up her torso, "Besides, a little price to pay for helping you back to your hive is nothing."

She squealed but still felt herself much too excited at the thought of experimenting a little with someone new. Wasp was a dominant and commanding force that went well with her preferred taste, and as much as she obeyed the rules of the Queen, the rebellious nature of Wasp made her heart race. Yet, her emotions and priorities conflicted with one another. "Okay…" she nervously said while relaxing into his touch. "Just… make this quick because I can't be gone for too long."

Wasp licked his lips and observed her for a few extra seconds, "Oh dear, you're going to go at my pace." He tapped her nose teasingly with a smile. With those words, he leaned in and took her lips into his own, firmly pressing them against each other, leaving her no room to breathe or pull away. His hand held the back of her head as he circled his other arm around her waist to keep her close to his body. She sighed heavily and tried to withhold any moans but found it impossible.

By the time he let her go, she was out of breath; her knees had become weak and forced Wasp to exert enough energy to hold her up. "What the matter?" He mockingly smiled at her dishevelled state. "Can't handle a little bit of fun?~" he lowered her onto the flower to let her rest her dizzying head.

She placed a hand on her head, her cheeks reddened in a deep shade of red. "That was my first kiss," she breathed.

"Mmm… well, now you'll be getting a lot of those," he shrugged off the jacket of his wasp uniform as he analyzed her.

"What are you doing?" She asked, blushing with anticipation. "I told you we are different species." She shyly looked away from his form.

"And I don't care." He shrugged, "You're cute, so that's a start."

"Wait— seriously? Out here?" She looked at the bright field.

He considered her thought, "Well… I guess you do have a point about privacy." He smiled, and just as he was on top of her, he took off to the edges of the flower. With carefully guided hands, he pulled the large blue petals up, a shade overwhelming her vision as the sun was blocked.

She blushed again at feeling so isolated and vulnerable with a dangerous insect, unlike her.

On the other hand, Wasp had been more enthusiastic at the circumstances and pushed her back down again once he was done. "Now, hold still for me, love." He smiled and began unravelling the rest of his shirt, revealing his years of difficulty as a wasp.

"W-wait! Put it back on, please!!" She covered her face.

"No need for modesty now. I think we've both come a bit past that point now."

She shook her head, "This is all just… going too fast for me!" She lay waiting for his answer.

He smirked confidently. "Fine. Have it your way, little bee; I suppose that first kiss was more than enough then?"

She nodded, and he slipped back into his shirt.

"Then I'll be taking you back home now." He stood up and grabbed the spear that stood stiffly at his side. Bee stood back up with shaking legs and fluttering wings, still at a loss at what had almost happened.

"Thank you, sir."

He rolled his eyes, "Don't call me that."

She played with her hair and collected the small jars of pollen scattered at her feet and back into her bags. Wasp opened one of the petals and flew out. Bee quickly followed behind Wasp. "You're very kind." She said as they flew next to each other. "Not as menacing and scary as those other wasps," she shivered, "Or the yellowjackets."

He scowled in her direction, taking slight offence, "Please, I just had a moment of clarity." He crossed his arms, "If given another chance, I wouldn't even look your way."

She giggled, hardly taking note of his change in demeanour, "Yes, but you're very merciful." She fidgeted with her hands and looked away from his gaze.

He narrowed his eyes at her, "Only your face and those hips are what seduced me, but you have no chest." He huffed, "You're hardly even fully developed."

She stayed quiet, and Wasp felt his words seep in for the first time. His cheeks flared as he fought to find a way to retract his statement.

"Maybe… but you called me cute." She fidgeted with her fingers, and part of Wasp was angry that she was so quick to agree with his observations. It wasn't true; she might have fewer assets at the front, but she was surely more feminine than the other violent female wasps. "What're you staring at at?"

Wasp shook his head out of his thoughts and clenched his fist tightly at his spear, pointing it in her direction, "Shut up!-- It was nothing!" He hadn't realized his eyes had wandered on her for much longer than expected.

She adjusted the straps on her waist that held the pollen neatly beside her. "If you say so… but y'know, it's a bit confusing when you tell me all these horrible things and then act completely different."

"You're the one who asked us to keep in our species, didn't you?" He moved closer, the spear tucked under her chin. "Don't change your mind now."

She stared at him, too frightened to move her neck even an inch. The spear's blade was made to mimic the stinger of a wasp. Their eyes stayed glued onto each other, and Wasp watched as the terrified Honeybee's eyes began to wet themselves.

"Great. What are you crying about now?" Wasp slowly pulled away.

"You really hate me that much?" Her tears edged the corners of her eyes.

Wasp flew closer to Bee and used his sleeve to roughly wipe her tears off, "Quit this nonsense already." He clenched his teeth and placed his hand on her shoulder. "You're so weak it's pathetic, look at you—"he pushed her away. "What are you doing alone with a wasp right now?"

"We had a deal. You made a promise you'd take me home…"

He put his hands on his hips, "And whose fault is it that got you lost in the first place, hm?"

She remained silent and fidgeted in her spot for a moment. Her wings buzzed as they waited in silence.

"Let's keep moving." He flew by her, and she trailed behind.

Even though she knew her Queen had taught her to stay well-guarded around other insects, Honeybee just couldn't get her eyes off Wasp. She was lucky to survive today, but maybe tomorrow he would attack her ruthlessly.

She knew all the chances of anything happening, and still, her fingers laced themselves with Wasp's in an attempt to join hands.

Wasp blushed at her attempts and grabbed her wrist, stopping her mid-flight with him. "Don't get this mixed up, alright? I don't care for any of you softies holed up in that hive over there." He gestured at the air behind her, "I'm only helping you because I have to, not because you make me feel some type of way got it?"

She nodded, her eyes wide.

"If I wanted to, I'd kill you all."

Honeybee blinked at him, her silence falling upon him as he took in her features again. She was always too scared to speak with him to avoid making him angrier. Wasp pushed her away from him just before she could catch sight of the blush on his cheeks.

"Ow! What'd you do that for?" She grabbed the shoulder he shoved her with.

Wasp raised a brow in her direction, "For being stupid and gullible. Don't go acting like I was supposed to treat you nicer. I'm a wasp; it's my nature to put you bees into place." He squinted at her.

Honeybee, startled for a minute, searched for some way to counter his point but found nothing. "I know that already…" She pouted. "But I still think you're a good person." She smiled softly.

"Shut up. I could've done whatever I wanted to back there in those flower fields."

"But you didn't." She looped a finger into her hair.

"You're not even my type! Now drop the subject!"

They continued flying toward the beehive; Wasp occasionally glanced in her direction. Hopefully, she wasn't offended, but this was the best way to harden her.

Even as they flew together for a short while, Honeybee noticed Wasp kept his hand on her wrist and slowly moved it to the palm of her hand over time. Her cheeks flushed slightly, and she fixed her uniform. Whether to impress him or not, she wasn't sure. She only knew that he was unlike anyone she'd met before.

"Is this your home?" They stopped, and Honeybee looked at the hive. Their eyes lit up excitedly.

"Yeah! That's it!" They turned around, "Thank you, Wasp."

They stared at her with a shallow look of annoyance, "Whatever, but remember if I catch you on my territory next time," He leaned in, "You're dead."

Honeybee could only fluster at their proximity and look away for a few seconds. "Okay." She nodded.

~~~

MASTERLIST

#fluff prompt #pining prompts #imagine your otp #enemies to lovers #angst prompt #angst #unrequited feelings #pining #creative writing

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strdstd-m · 1 year ago

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REFLECT—Zhongli, regarding fight with Azhdaha or Guizhong’s death

Send REFLECT for me to explain a traumatic event in my muse’s past and talk about their perception of events ★ @underxworlder ★ Accepting

{OH BOY HERE WE GO...

Gonna go with Guizhong bc it's what I'm most familiar with/feel like I'd be able to articulate my/his thoughts on it better.

Never in his long, long life would Morax ever think he'd formulate such a bond with anyone. He was a war god, intent on slaughter and conquering, not on alliances and relations. That is, until one day amongst a field of Glaze Lillies, did he meet a fellow god. Guizhong. Someone his complete opposite in her benevolence and eagerness to learn about the humans. The very god who helped him formulate his beloved Liyue into the prosperous nation it was today. And perhaps most importantly, the woman who managed to wear down his heart of stone. Teaching him little by little how valuable humans and their emotions were, how not everything is won by bloodshed and violence, and just how important kindness itself was.

Him feeling a strange twinge in his soul upon witnessing how joyful she became hearing him gain more understanding of humans. How surprisingly entertaining it was, watching her work on her latest invention, how he actually smiled when around her.

At first, he tried to ignore it, thinking of it as a weakness. A god such as himself shouldn't get this attached to someone. Much less a war god. How he was allowing her to mold him into a gradually kinder being, it was something he should have resisted much strongly than he had. Yet... why did he protect her so fiercely, why did he allow himself to teach her combat, why did he feel this warmth in his chest whenever he saw her? A solace, she easily became, from all the fighting he took part in.

Then, the Archon War struck. And with it, came chaos and bloodshed.

He couldn't find her. The almighty Morax feeling fear seep into his being and cage him in a vice. Impossible. Gods shouldn't, can't, won't feel any form of fear. But this was Guizhong he couldn't find. It was then, then of all times, he realized. What he felt for her went beyond simple alliances, beyond even friendship. The desperate calling of her name as he searched told that well enough.

He found her. In a field of Glaze Lillies. The resemblance to their first meeting was agonizing.

Anger, was his first emotion. The gnawing desire to rip apart whomever gave her any wounds or pain. They deserved it-

It was her weakly saying his name that snapped him out of it. Like it always did before. Returning him to reality as he used the very hands the wielded a spear with beastly aggression to gently gather her into his arms.

Forget? No! Forgetting the dumbbell could equate to him forgetting her. Never could or would he do that. He'd have to deny her, just this once.

The unflinching, brutish, unfeeling Morax broke. Like carving a stone in half, he wailed and begged her. "Don't leave, Liyue still needs you- I still need you!" The earth was covered in dust regardless of the Geo god's pleas. The Glaze Lillies wilting alongside her.

Grief gave way to outright fury. Fissures, boulders, spear strikes. That was how Morax showed his grief masked by violence. Tears cascading as he fought his way through. Falling onto his knees once it all was done, only his spear supporting him where she once did.}

#underxworlder #{ 𝒌𝒊𝒕 𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒂𝒌𝒔 ~ 𝒐𝒐𝒄 }#〚 ⠀★ ⠀〛 — 𝒛𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒊 - 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔 #{THIS HURT ME DEEPLY. :)}

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roleplay-abiogenesis2 · 2 years ago

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Hi hi Saru-mun!! For your Munday questions: what drew you to Cyno? How does Cyno fight, what kind of tactics does he employ? And as for you, what is something that you enjoy about your writing (and don't you wiggle out of answering!)?

//A sneak attack!! Always you!

This could turn into quite the essay, you know? Making me gush about my brainrot lord!

Let's see...

what drew you to Cyno?

The plain truth? It started with looks alone. As some regulars of my blog may have noticed, I have a slight fixation for silver haired characters. This is normally not enough to get me to take one as a muse though. What pushed me over the edge with Cyno was his Ancient Egypt theme in his character design. As a prehistory buff, I couldn't not be drawn by this choice. And Ancient Egypt just so happens to be my very favorite age in history, too. When I was a little kid, I had a vast collection of books and research material on the topic. It was possibly my second strongest fixation after dinosaurs.

Even better, he is a character with a role akin to that of a high priest. Religious characters have always been of great interest to me (-waves spasmodically at Sanzo, Hazel, mystic messenger muses-) because spiritualism has always fascinated me, even as an agnostic myself. There is something so morbidly interesting in the human mind and what brings us to trust into faith. Especially if you like history, it is undeniable what immense role religion and faith have played in the shaping of human society, encompassing military, warfare, medicine, education, architecture, and so much more. Many great good and evil things have happened in the name of gods without anything but our own beliefs that this was their will. It is such a great mystery that I can't help but dive into again and again, exploring what drives a believer's heart into action. Devotion, delusion, fear, dreams, idealism, morality... so many things, and they all go so deep into the human psyche!

And then there's the puns. I found out about this side of him after I had already picked him up as a muse, and it was just a welcome cherry on top because stupid jokes are just what I dish out as a second nature. Cyno opened a pandora's box by becoming my muse, really.

How does Cyno fight, what kind of tactics does he employ?

I will keep this one short and sweet (spoiler: this was a lie) because combat isn't my forte. Cyno is a melee fighter, brandishing a staff as his weapon of choice (you could equip him with spears in the game, but while I do embrace the canon that he knows how to fight with a spear, I feel the staff specifically would be his favorite). Trying to embrace his nature of Electro Vision wielder, I try to express his style as quick and straightforward. He aims for weak spots and charges head-on. Sneaky tactics are not his style, unless forced by lack of options.

As a personal choice, I write his style to be a bit gung-ho, with direct engaging to the front of his opponent without much regard for his own safety. He is nimble and agile, but definitely the type who puts all his bets on bringing down his enemy before he himself is... much like a thunderstrike striking to the ground to then lose all charge. My Cyno will walk out of a battle completely unscathed or severely injured, a convenient excuse to pay Gandharva Ville's residents a visit more often, I guess. Sorry, Tighnari.

This choice was made not only to match my terrible playstyle in the game, but also because I consider the cyclicality of life and death in his religion. As an arbiter of Hermanubis, Cyno has fully embraced death and does not fear it. This can only lead, as a consequence, to a very reckless and headstrong combat style.

Wow this wasn't short and sweet at all.

And as for you, what is something that you enjoy about your writing (and don't you wiggle out of answering!)?

This is a weird one to answer and I really wish I could wiggle out of answering it! I have lots of shortcomings in my writing, and I will never be done improving on any front, to be honest. As for things I think I can pat myself on the back about...? Hmmm.

I think I do a good job of writing realistic dialogue. This is a small issue I have with Tumblr, actually, so maybe it is something only I can truly appreciate and that others may find annoying. When I write my replies, I try to keep the dialogue flowing in a manner that feels realistic, including the way my muse transitions from one subject to the next. It is something I noticed is often ignored in Tumblr RP posts, with most people adopting a style where muses have 2 or sometimes even 3 different conversations in the same turn. I tried to adapt, but it felt always a bit jarring to me. So instead I try to cut off my posts where I feel my partner should have an opportunity to respond, interject, interrupt, react, or anything.

Like I said though, 90% of my RP partners do not do this quite as I do, so I don't think this is something I do better, as much as something I do differently. And maybe it is jarring to my partners while I like it, so, who knows if that's actually a good thing.

Other than that? I'm good at taking the initiative. Many people are shy to manipulate the scene and environment in a thread (a friend of mine actually told me it's because many think it threads dangerously into god modding), and when that happens, the scene becomes stale and doesn't progress. I pride myself to be able to take the reins and make things move along when my partner is more on the passive side. The downside of this is that sometimes I feel like I'm the one carrying the plot on their back and I miss that element of surprise from my partner that I do instead provide to them. So, there: I wish my partners were a bit less shy and not afraid to throw things at me! Make the weather change all of a sudden! Bring in a monster encounter! Cause an incident! Sweep me off my feet, I will never be angry at you for doing that. In fact, you may notice the threads I am most active on are those with partners who do provide me that thrill.

Hope you enjoy the novel that is this post, cause I'm not giving you a tl;dr xD thanks and love ya~

Saru-mun\\

#00j || that's what they said. [asked & answered]#ofhope #00A || Saru-mun is still alive! [OOC]

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anestofocs · 1 month ago

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For fun, Muses as lines from Epic the musical. Redux:

The Doctor: "Do these actions haunt my days, every man I've slain. Is the price I pay endless pain? Close your eyes and spare yourself the view. How Could I hurt you?"- Just a Man

Kazuya: "Now without a choice and without a doubt, Gues the pack wolves are with swimming with the Shark now! I need to see you bleed , I need to see you drown!" - Ruthlessness

Safiya: "I had a friend and he was a lot you, I helped him win the war, but he had his demons too, then we fell apart, Then his light went dark.." - We'll be fine

Hayato: "All I hear are screams, ever time I dare to close my eyes, I no longer dream. Only nightmares of those who died. Nothing's what it seems, yet here in the underworld your past is always close behind.." -The Underworld

Ai Jian: "Thunder bringer, here to ring your, ears until you're deaf with fear, and spear you while your death is near. Lightning wielder, here to yield your time, for you have passed your prime. Sublime you for your act of crime." - Thunder Bringer

Yuki: "What if I'm the monster? What if I'm in the wrong, What if I'm the problem, that's been hiding all along? What if I'm the one who killed you, every time I caved to guilt? What if I've been to kind to foes but a monster to ourselves.." - Monster

Scylla: "I don't who you are or why you're here, but let me make one thing clear, I've got people to protect, Nymphs I can't neglect. So I'm not taking chances dear.." - Done for (We resisted the temptation)

Wild Fang: "I must say, what a brilliant speech you made/ Just a friend who can help you save your men, a foe like Crice's not to be messed with. You'll need the blessing of a certain god, divine intervention, form someone who's not afraid to..send a message." or "Demented laughter" - Wouldn't you like?

Crowe: "Maybe one day they'll follow me and we'll make a greater tomorrow, then they'll see, I know we'll change the world. 'Cause we are the warriors of the mind! Maybe one day we'll reach them, And we can build their skills as we teach them. If there's a problem, we'll have the answer We are the warriors of the mind!" - Warriors of the mind

#birds behind the curtain ooc #musing about muses: insights

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freereignwritingprompts · 8 months ago

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Ares was looking at Sophocles with his burning eyes of ember. "You're an interesting one I must admit that." He slowly started walking around the younger man. "You did not keel over like most of the battle hardened ones that pray for my blessings, and I do not sense even a drop of bloodlust in you. You're not a warrior?"

Sophocles simply shook his head, his dark eyes following the mountain of a god. "I am not. There are no rules for who can and cannot pray for you though, is there?" The last one was said a little slower, like he was not even sure himself about the rules.

Ares stopped his pacing a few feet in front. "No there is not." He confirmed. "We all bleed the same no matter who we are. So tell me, mortal. Why the need for a summons of the god of war?"

Sophocles straightened his back but did not look up from the ground for the gods eyes were said to be a death sentence. "I need a favor from you. Someone has challenged me in a duel, for he has said I offended his offer to marry one of his daughters."

Ares "Fair offer, so why not?" He mused. "It's not like you had to keep at it for the rest of your life without a divorce, or you can get a second or third wife if the first wasn't pretty enough."

Sophocles wanted to move but was forced to stand still. "It's not that, the girls are pretty and mother would be pleased but..."

Ares "spit it out boy. I don't have all day." The god started to tap his foot in irritation.

Sophocles "the marriage seems too forced and girls aren't my choice in love!" He finally shouted, his already dark complexion darkening even more but he didn't have time to be ashamed for the confession he just did because soon Ares was on him and grabbing him by his chin, hard.

"So you tell me," he whispered harshly now his burning eyes burning straight through Sophocles soul, making him sweat and shiver at the same time in fear. "You dragged me all the way here, into this pig shit smelling corner of a farm, to ask me to be your errand boy? Because you can't make yourself touch women with your pathetic dick, even if it would get you a good life?"

"Yes." He answered without hesitation or avoiding the gods searching gaze.

Ares looked at him for a moment longer but eventually pushed the mortal away from him. "For fucks sake!" He cursed before rounding up on him once again. A light flashing on his side and now he was holding his trusted spear. "You're a brave man Sophocles. But I must decline."

He was about to speak but Ares held his hand to silence him. "I do not like you. I do not like being asked to do such a petty little things... But." He stood real close to Sophocles. "You don't seem to fear the gods as of now. You don't seem to truly even fear the fate you have been offered with a nice string on top. But somehow you fear that you're just going to end up as a pretty little breeding horse and remembered only as a beauty blessed by the gods."

Sophocles "What I am was not my choice. I was not born to be just a trophy to keep in a cage."

Ares looked at him from head to toes. "I cannot kill the man, if that was your question. Gods aren't allowed to just do the business of men whenever. I cannot kill without a reason and I won't kill without it benefitting me." He looked at the sunset that was already kissing the sea. "So what do you offer me, mortal? I will tell you what I can do for you if the offer pleases me."

Sophocles was silent for a long moment. Watching the crashing waves and the pink sky above. "I can write a poem for you." He finally said.

Ares turned his head and laughed. "A poem? What the fuck I would benefit from a poem?"

"For Aphrodite." Sophocles said, smiling from seeing Ares tensing his shoulders. "You love her. You've always loved her but you pretend you don't."

Ares "shut up."

Sophocles "But like you've said it yourself, you're the god of war and showing fear is for the weak."

Ares "I said shut up."

Sophocles ignored the order and took a step forward. "And Aphrodite is being pursued by everyone but you're just her little fuck buddy."

Ares "I said shut the fuck up!!" He finally roared, pointing the end of his spear straight at Sophocles throat.

"It's not just my looks that people admire me." He swallowed drawing a drop of blood where the spear touched his skin. "For a small fee I've made many to confess to their loved one. Words if written from the heart, make an impact worthy of even the cupids arrow."

There was a long, silent standoff between the two. But in the end Ares lowered his spear. "What is it you wish me to do, Sophocles?"

"I want to borrow your aura, just for an hour at tops."

Ares squinted his brow. "To scare the old man away? Why not just kill the man and be done with it? I could give you a moment of heartlessness or take your feelings away."

Sophocles shook his head. "I am a poet not a killer. I do not want that weight on my heart."

"You do understand that you cannot always run from the fight, yes? Someday the fight will come to your door and it will not leave before you open it."

Sophocles nodded in understanding. "Yes it might yet come to me, but that day is not tomorrow."

"Okay. I can honor your choice to choose to fight another day. But I must ask that when that day comes you have to sacrifice something in my name." He held his free hand that wasn't holding the spear towards him and they clasped hands. There was a sudden tremor in the land below their feet and a tingling feeling in Sophocles palm.

Ares "I will come to see the fight before dawn breaks. The others won't see me but you will. I will brush past you before it happens and I will give you what you asked for 30 seconds, no more no less. The longer it would last the more my powers would flow to you and your human body would not handle that. You must end what you want before my aura will come back to me. Because then you will collapse in the end and the old man will take it as a weakness and kill you on the spot."

"I understand. Thank you" Sophocles bowed deeply.

Ares scoffed, turning away, into a cloud of smoke but before he disappeared he shouted over his shoulder. "I will collect what was promised in a fortnight. Break a leg." And he was gone with the wind.

Oc Sophocles and Ares from @take-my-soul-if

#writers #writers on tumblr #oc #spilled ink #oc scenario

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steel-and-fire · 10 months ago

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Glimpses of the past: AFRAID @undyingmedium

send AFRAID for a scene from my muse's past in which they were scared / under threat

---

I was stabbed, hurt and bleeding all over, running desperately deeper into the forest for shelter, with them behind me, chasing me relentlessly.

The hunters were back again with a fury, having chased me all the way from the village, and despite the fact I had defeated a number of them, the rest had opted to slowly pick at me with arrows and bolts.

And gods damn it, it was working for them. No matter how tough I am, they were trained and accurate, and kept wearing me down...I knew I couldn't last much longer, so I had to flee, with all the strength my feet could bring me.

But the forest is not a safe place, and a terrifying screech from up ahead made me freeze completely. From the shadows born from the night's descent, a large creature of bone and black feathers emerged, its horrible beak and cruel red eyes pointing right at me.

With the hunters behind me and thus in front of me, I felt despair for the first time, fear enough to make me tremble. I would die. I would actually die.

In a desperate attempt, I ran back, aiming to force the hunters to engage with the creature. But it was a failed attempt, as keeping their distance, they smartly decided to keep barraging me with a storm of arrows...

It was only after the creature started using its magical, fearful abilities that they were forced to run away, leaving me already wounded, alone with it. An easy prey.

At least, in the face of terror, my instinct is to fight, and fight I did. Screaming and screeching with all my lungs could muster, I desperately thrusted with my spear, more so to scare it than fight it. I barely had the strength to stand, much less delivering a threatening blow.

Sadly for me, it noticed my weakness, and with fierce talons and bites, it tore at my flesh, my armor breaking under its power, my consciousness fading...

I would die...

But then, something burst out of me. My energy surged like never before, and I let out a scream that scared even myself.

No, a roar, that of a dragon's. And with the last of my consciousness, I shot my spear right to its head, shattering its upper beak on impact. It was far from enough to kill it...but...it did manage to fool it.

It ran away.

I don't know how long I crawled. Or how far I managed to go. I only know I crawled. I couldn't stay in the same place, be it the monster or the hunters, someone could return.

I couldn't see, my vision was already gone, dark surrounding me entirely, even my hearing wasn't of any use either.

I crawled, so, so scared, for as long as my instinct and subconscious carried me...

And then I collapsed.

#ic #undyingmedium #memes #memories

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reforged-lionheart · 1 year ago

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MUSE PLAYLIST

main: Sweet Dreams Seven Nation Army Mashup - Pomplamoose

silly: Work Bitch - Britney Spears

determination: A Million on My Soul - Alexiane

battle: Wonder Woman Main Theme - Tina Guo

sad: Landscape - Florence + The Machine

relaxed: Feel It Still - Portugal. The Man

contemplative: BLURRY (out of place) - Crown The Empire

happy: Shotgun - Pomplamoose

hard work montage: Zero - Imagine Dragons

love theme: Heaven In Hiding - Halsey

breakup / heartbreak: X Games - Au/Ra

failure / defeat: Another One Bites the Dust - Hidden Citizens

final battle: I'm Not Afraid - Tommee Profitt feat. Wondra

finale: Don't Fear the Reaper - The Spiritual Machines

tagging: anyone who hasn't done it yet!

#;{tag game}#;shut up and dance with me {music}

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honorhearted · 1 year ago

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"Well, it's very hard to argue with someone so full of wisdom," Ben teased, leaning into her touch with a chuckle. "And if you truly deign me brilliant, then who am I to go against the word of such a silver-tongued beauty?"

“When I’m flattering you to get something, I promise you’ll know it, Headmaster Tallmadge."

Lorraine's fingertips trekked along his chest, light and coy, and on instinct, he caught her traveling hand before pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "Alas, I have not yet cracked the code on feminine exploits, so you might fool me yet," he quipped, turning her hand to nuzzle into her palm.

Her eyes were bright and fond, sparkling like brilliant starshine, before she declared, "Now, I’d like to hear more about this dearest friend of yours, as well as others in your life, keep that in mind when your turn comes around again.”

"Oh, I don't have a dearest person," Ben was quick to reassure, "so much as a group of friends who take turns. After all, some days we enjoy the company of one friend over the rest -- and most especially if the other friends are being snot-nosed shites about your talents and drawbacks." Chuckling, he pressed a quick kiss to her nose, his lips brushing upward along her brow. "Growing up, I was closest to a boy named Abraham Woodhull. We were a bit like night and day, because where I loved books and immersing myself in literature, he tended to prefer the outdoors and girls. Not that I didn't love those things too, of course, but I was a lot less suave when it came to social interactions...and arguably still am."

Stroking his fingers through her hair, Ben continued, "Then there was Caleb Brewster, a boy so mischievous that he was capable of corrupting even the most devout of onlookers...myself included. I'd never mooned someone before I met him." Grinning, he shrugged. "He always sought adventure, so he went off to be a whaler at age nine-and-ten. He's joined me and Abe in the war effort, so he's back in the fray again...and just as mischievous as before."

Trailing his fingers along Lorraine's shoulder, Ben hummed a moment before adding, "And then there's Anna Strong. Admittedly, I didn't much care for her when we first met. She was Abe's muse, so to speak -- wherever she was, Abe wanted to be, so I felt she was stealing my best and dearest friend. I loathed her for it. Then, after a considerable while, she comforted me after one of those damnable bee stings I've mentioned, and our relationship started to shift. Now, I couldn't possibly imagine my life without her."

"I can confidently tell you that now that you’ve survived my mother’s sting and my sisters’ incessant buzzing, a measly bee should be nothing to fear. If that isn’t enough to convince you, I’m compelled to remind you that you’re also parting with an ample share of honey.”

Ben flushed at such a declaration, a shy smile tipping the corner of his mouth. Perhaps his diffidence seemed almost laughable, given what had just transpired between them, and with a soft chuckle, he agreed, "Already, you're proving to be a worthy sparring opponent of the mind. After all, I'm not quite sure how I could ever disagree with such a statement..."

And then she reaffirmed her affections, and Ben's heart fluttered and stammered inside his chest, causing his cheeks to burn impossibly hotter. The words Je t'aime aussi plucked across his heartstrings akin to a harpist, the song flooding through his limbs and nearly leaving him faint with relief. All his life, he sought for affirmation and love, and even hearing the words, he could scarcely believe them. It was hard to imagine that someone like Lorraine could want him -- him! -- above all else.

Drawing her back into his arms, he met her fervent kiss with one of his own, his head spinning as he dizzily succumbed to being rolled over onto his back. With her straddling his hips and her fingers in his hair, a flood of warmth speared through him and he groaned softly into her mouth, seeking, yearning as he deepened the kiss with a slow roll of his tongue. Once she parted her lips from his, he gave a breathless laugh. "Now I think you're trying to kill me," he whispered. "Perhaps you could give me a bit of a warning next time?"

“Tell me about Setauket, about your family and friends. Who else holds pieces of your beloved heart?”

"More?" he asked, fighting back a grin. "Shouldn't it be your turn?" Nevertheless, he trailed his fingers across her back in an aimless, circling path, then allowed, "My only remaining family is my father, Nathaniel. He is a good man -- a reverend -- so sometimes, it can feel a bit difficult to live up to such greatness. But I love him, and would do anything on this earth to ensure his happiness. He's been through far too much over the years."

“Is it so hard to believe you might just be brilliant, mon amor?” she grinned, “I am not one of your students, but your wife-to-be, and as such, I’m declaring it to be the truth.”

Lorraine playfully walked her middle and index finger from Ben’s chest up to his shoulder with a flirtatious wink, “When I’m flattering you to get something, I promise you’ll know it, Headmaster Tallmadge. Now, I’d like to hear more about this dearest friend of yours, as well as others in your life, keep that in mind when your turn comes around again.”

Her parents would surely drop dead of distress if they knew she’d given herself prior to any wedding vows, but Lorraine felt strongly in her heart that Ben’s word was honorable and had no reason to believe he’d deceive her.

As he expressed his preference for an engaging wife, she affectionately fiddled with a loose lock of his hair, laughing in tandem when he mentioned the bees again, “I won’t argue with you about the bees, however, I can confidently tell you that now that you’ve survived my mother’s sting and my sisters’ incessant buzzing, a measly bee should be nothing to fear. If that isn’t enough to convince you, I’m compelled to remind you that you’re also parting with an ample share of honey.”

The joke had been terrible, but she found herself snickering nonetheless, once again stifling it against his shoulder to keep from attracting any prying ears.

"I love you."

Fingers laced, she beamed serendipitously as he interjected to reassert his affections, her own heart full and torrent as she leaned into his tender touch.

"I love you -- wholly and irreversibly. I thank God for placing you right into my undeserving path."

“Je t'aime aussi. I love you too, mon Benjamin,” she answered, eyes alight with fierce devotion, “God as my witness, for all my days I will love you.”

Lorraine sealed her promise with another impassioned kiss, relishing in his taste until she couldn’t resist rolling on top of him, burying her hands into his hair before pulling away just enough to smile at him.

“Tell me about Setauket, about your family and friends. Who else holds pieces of your beloved heart?”

#pagetreader #the need for unburdening #ben x lorraine #lime #//this got long (twss) sorry xD #fight for what queue believe in

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hamliet · 2 years ago

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Rereading A Storm of Swords

In light of my recent Fire & Blood reread, I decided to reread the whole ASOIAF series because, well, why not. Below are some general observations/musings on the themes, character arcs, alchemy, and foreshadowing. I’ll do this for the others as well. It’s not really a meta proper, so much as observations and thoughts.

Thoughts on A Game of Thrones here and A Clash of Kings here.

Themes

Duty vs Love

Again, Martin contrasts duty and love. Robb forgives Catelyn for freeing Jaime because "what you did, I know you did for love... Love's not always wise."

Meanwhile, Tywin treats his children as pawns, literally trying to marry them again and telling them they'll do what he tells them because of duty:

"Go," their father said. "We shall talk again after you have composed yourself. Remember your duty."

And Brienne defends Robert by telling Jaime that his rebellion is justified because of love:

"Why is it that no one names Robert oathbreaker? He tore the realm apart, yet I am the one with shit for honor." "Robert did all he did for love."

I don't really have a ton new to say that I didn't already say in my ACOK's post, but again, Martin doesn't seem to see duty/honor and love as actual opposites, but instead suggests there's a balance to be struck. The idea that duty at its most extreme transforms people into things, however, is something I'll talk about more later.

Individuality vs Ideas

Part of the reason ASOAIF is so complex is that it's deconstructing the idea that enemies and villains and "red shirts" are just empty ideas rather than living, breathing people. We have this idea throughout all books, but it's emphasized starting in ASOS:

"Enough." The Hound's face was tight with anger. "You're making noise. These names mean nothing. Who were they?" "People," said Lord Beric. "People great and small, young and old. Good people and bad people, who died on the points of Lannister spears or saw their bellies opened by Lannister swords.

Then we have Jon starting to empathize with the wildlings:

He did not want their friendship, any more than he wanted Ygritte's love. And yet . . . the Thenns spoke the Old Tongue and seldom talked to Jon at all, but it was different with Jarl's raiders, the men who'd climbed the Wall. Jon was coming to know them despite himself: gaunt, quiet Errok and gregarious Grigg the Goat, the boys Quort and Bodger, Hempen Dan the ropemaker. The worst of the lot was Del, a horsefaced youth near Jon's own age, who would talk dreamily of this wildling girl he meant to steal. "She's lucky, like your Ygritte. She's kissed by fire."

Martin also uses this "red shirts" idea to open and close the book in the prologue and epilogue. Chett and Merritt aren't particularly sympathetic characters on the outset, but from being in their mind, even if we see Chett as an incel-esque character and Merritt as a coward, we feel their fear and hopes and self-loathing too. It's impossible not to see them as human, and when they realize they're going to die... well. It leaves us with a strange feeling.

We Are All Just Songs

"We're all just songs in the end. If we are lucky." Oh look, we've got a title drop here! A title drop!

ASOIAF is playing with the ideas of stories. For example, characters like Sansa adore simplistic stories of courtly romances. Arya enjoys badass historical stories. Bran enjoys ghost stories. Daenerys enjoys stories about her family's history.

Well, any wonder each of their stories are deconstructing these ideas?

But Martin isn't saying stories are stupid or bad. If anything, he's saying we need stories. Stories are the ideals that help light our way through messy reality.

True Kings, True Knights

Throughout the first few books, we have Sansa telling us "he was no true knight" about the vile people serving Joffrey. The point isn't to mock Sansa, but instead to deconstruct her ideals. Through Sansa's pure-hearted belief and compassion, even for people like the Hound, they start to change and become more and more knightly.

Please note I'm not saying this is okay or whatever, just saying there is some romantic coding between them even when they're apart in the books. Should Sandor return and meet Sansa again, I would expect it to be a textbook chivalric romance:

a highly conventionalized medieval tradition of love between a knight and a married noblewoman, first developed by the troubadours of southern France and extensively employed in European literature of the time. The love of the knight for his lady was regarded as an ennobling passion and the relationship was typically unconsummated.

The "no true knight" mantra is also picked up this book by Brienne, who inspires similar change in Jaime. It's also repeated by Daenerys, with a twist:

"Some kings make themselves. Robert did." "He was no true king," Dany said scornfully. "He did no justice. Justice . . . that's what kings are for."

Again, I highly doubt we're going for a scorched earth burned ashes deconstruction here, but instead digging to the heart of what this means. What does it mean to be a just ruler for Daenerys? As much as she needs to mature and accept worser parts of herself, much like Sansa and Brienne, her general ideals are not themselves wrong, even if their application in the real world is messier than in songs.

Protecting the Innocent:

We have this theme throughout the story: those who protect the innocent are heroes. We even have this in the lore of the story itself, such as the Knight of the Laughing Tree (who is clearly Lyanna, and the incident clearly jumpstarted her relationship with Rhaegar).

Also, can't believe I have to say this, but in ASOIAF, hurting kids iz bad. It's particularly Bad. It's Bad Bad. (Nota Bene: I do not get how the House of the Dragon fans and even its actors do not get this very basic principle in ASOIAF). In earlier books, we had Ned full of regret for the deaths of Rhaegar's children and fear that Robert would hurt Cersei's. Now in ASOS, Martin hits us with this idea in almost every storyline.

Robb loses a lot of his army to punish someone who murdered two children in revenge for his own children. Oh look, it's almost like ASOIAF doesn't condone "an eye for an eye, a son for a son":

"They died," said Rickard Karstark, yielding no inch of ground. "The Kingslayer cut them down. These two were of his ilk. Only blood can pay for blood." "The blood of children?" Robb pointed at the corpses. "How old were they? Twelve, thirteen? Squires."

Then we have Daenerys and the Unsullied and the children crucified on the way to Meereen. The truly evil idea is seeing kids as a weakness, an idea that makes Dany "feel faint":

"To win his spiked cap, an Unsullied must go to the slave marts with a silver mark, find some wailing newborn, and kill it before its mother's eyes. In this way, we make certain that there is no weakness left in them."

Plus, it's stated directly:

Yet he saw himself as a hero, and heroes do not kill children."

Then we have Melisandre arguing that hurting children even for the best of intentions is the right thing to do, but the framing of this--through Davos' eyes--tells us this is completely wrong. Even if you lose your army and your life like Robb. Even if you lose everything. It's. Not. Worth. It.

The Lord of Light cherishes the innocent. There is no sacrifice more precious. From his king's blood and his untainted fire, a dragon shall be born.

(Clearly, this also foreshadows the demise of Shireen.)

Again, Davos, one of the most moral characters in this story, tells us directly what we should think:

"...what is the life of one bastard boy against a kingdom?" "Everything," said Davos, softly.

This storyline also seems to be combined with Nissa Nissa, even though Nissa Nissa is an adult and not a child, because Azor Ahai has to sacrifice what he loves most. Stannis will sacrifice Shireen, his child, because she's what he loves most, but it won't work. I'd suggest that the idea is less "Stannis just wasn't chosen" and more "don't kill the innocent."

If there is a sacrifice to defeat the Others, I 100% do not see a Nissa Nissa situation happening, but instead a willing self-sacrifice.

Look Back! Look Back!

All of the characters have to look back if they are to go forward, as Daenerys is reminded by Quaithe. The problem is no one's doing that in their quest to look ahead.

Tyrion: "Some part of him had hoped for less indifference. Had hoped, he jeered bitterly, but now you know better, dwarf. Shae is all the love you're ever like to have". He has to face what happened with Tysha, to face the fact that he participated in that and became her monster, to ever be a better man.

Arya needs to face herself as a Stark and as someone who wants a family even more than she thinks she wants to be powerful: "Jaqen was gone, though. He'd left her. Hot Pie left me too, and now Gendry is leaving. Lommy had died, Yoren had died, Syrio Forel had died, even her father had died, and Jaqen had given her a stupid iron penny and vanished."

And Daenerys has to face her father's legacy, and likely will when she accidentally sets off Dear Old Dad's wildfyre in King's Landing: "If she was not her father's daughter, who was she?" This is the central question of Daenerys' arc. Her identity is in her status as the last living Targaryen. The question is whether she wants to continue the Targaryen legacy of madness and slavery, or destroy it (which she's doing).

Foreshadowing

Arya

When thinking of the original outline Martin somewhat scrapped and that Arya/Jon idea, I do wonder if this is a leftover idea meant to tell us something about Arya's future (namely, that Gendry is likely her love interest instead of Jon):

Arya gave Gendry a sideways look. He said it with me, like Jon used to do, back in Winterfell. She missed Jon Snow the most of all her brothers.

Tyrion

Well, Tywin says this at the start to Tyrion:

You are done with whores. The next one I find in your bed, I'll hang.

The irony is Tywin won't find a whore in Tyrion's bed. Instead, Tyrion will find that precise whore, Shae, in his father's bed. And he "hangs" her by strangling her with that necklace.

Jon

Jon "had slain the wildling Orell, but some part of the man remained within the eagle." This is pretty likely foreshadowing for Jon remaining in Ghost for a bit before he's resurrected.

Jon and Daenerys

The story has a middle section somewhat littered with romantic longings and first loves. Daenerys is torn about Jorah, whom she doesn't love like that, and has a crush on Daario. She also sleeps with Irri. Arya and Gendry begin to show attraction. Jaime and Brienne. Jon and Ygritte. But here are some lines between Jon and Ygritte that hint at his romantic future:

She punched him. "That's vile. Would you bed your sister?" "Longspear's not your brother." "He's of my village. You know nothing, Jon Snow..."

"Then I'd push him in a stream or throw a bucket o' water on him. Anyhow, men shouldn't smell sweet like flowers." "What's wrong with flowers?"

Lol well at least she's his aunt?

Jon's already been strongly associated with blue roses, so this hints that Ygritte isn't a perfect match for him. She's kissed by fire, but not actually fire and air herself, like Dany is. Daenerys also liked the fact that the blue rose growing in a chink of ice at the wall "smell[ed] sweetly."

Lastly:

A son was something Jon Snow had never dared dream of, since he decided to live his life on the Wall.

Again, I feel like this might be foreshadowing for Dany and Jon having a child someday. The one thing that makes me skeptical and wondering if the child may be more metaphorical is the timeline--whether or not there's enough time for them to bear a child and save the world from the Others. That said, there's plenty of foreshadowing for it, so...

Sansa

The White Ghost clearly predicts Sansa's hairnet's role in Joffrey's assassination, as well as offers a prophecy of Sansa slaying a giant at, a giant who tries to destroy Winterfell. This may indicate Sansa literally kills a giant at some point, or it might be metaphorical. The one who needs to be slain by Sansa is Littlefinger, but he hasn't really been associated with giant imagery yet just kidding @isammy7936 pointed out the obvious: that the Baelish family crest is the Titan of Braavos.

There's a followup scene of Sansa tearing Robert Arryn's doll that destroyed Winterfell later in the book, in the presence of Littlefinger who was helping her build it. I don't doubt that Littlefinger will help Sansa claim the North at some point, but I also see him trying to destroy the Starks.

Jaime

Oh, Jaime.

I cannot die while Cersei lives, he told himself. We will die together as we were born together.

When I reach King's Landing I'll have a new hand forged, a golden hand, and one day I'll use it to rip out Vargo Hoat's throat.

Smells like foreshadowing to me, although I don't think it will be Vargo Hoat's throat he rips out, but Cersei's he strangles.

Alchemy

Daenerys and Red

Continuing with Dany's theme of becoming red, sulfur, fire and air, the first city she takes is Astapor, a red city:

In the center of the Plaza of Pride stood a red brick fountain whose waters smelled of brimstone, and in the center of the fountain a monstrous harpy made of hammered bronze... Even through the thickness of her sandals, she could feel the warmth of the red bricks underfoot.

The other red association I've seen is her dream that she is Rhaegar fighting the Others at the Trident. Most seem to think the battle against the others will end at Winterfell, which I tend to agree with. However, the fact that the final climax should involve red at some point makes me wonder, because this takes place specifically at the Red Fork of the Trident.

That night she dreamt that she was Rhaegar, riding to the Trident. But she was mounted on a dragon, not a horse. When she saw the Usurper's rebel host across the river they were armored all in ice, but she bathed them in dragonfire and they melted away like dew and turned the Trident into a torrent. Some small part of her knew that she was dreaming, but another part exulted. This is how it was meant to be. The other was a nightmare, and I have only now awakened.

Then again, fire is certain to be involved in defeating the Others, so it might well be red enough with that.

Bran and White

To continue the Starks are water and earth and white idea, Bran has this quote:

Moonlight painted the wet woods in shades of silver and turned the grey peaks white. Owls hooted through the dark and flew silently between the pines, while pale goats moved along the mountainsides.

Sansa and White

When I reread AGOT, I did take note that Sansa was given a red rose by Ser Loras, rather than the white he gave other girls. But in ASOS, Sansa talks to Loras about that very moment, and the point of this conversation is to reveal how little it meant to Loras. He gave her a red rose because he grabbed a red rose first, not because it meant anything. Seems like a meta commentary.

Arya and White/Water

When Arya dresses like a girl for the first time again, she wears something "lilac-colored, and decorated with little baby pearls."

Furthermore, Arya routinely stops to give water to the dying, even the executed. Even when people, like the Hound, ask for wine (red), she gives them water.

Brienne and Jaime

For Jaime and Brienne, there's very little I can say about their alchemical weddings that the fabulous @argentvive hasn't covered. The first is the dual in the creek, which is with swords and violent, while the second is in the bath. The first one is also littered with romantic and sexual imagery, and is frankly what I'd call metaphorical sex:

No sooner did she turn one cut than the next was upon her. The swords kissed and sprang apart and kissed again. Jaime's blood was singing. This was what he was meant for; he never felt so alive as when he was fighting, with death balanced on every stroke... He laughed a ragged, breathless laugh. "Come on, come on, my sweetling, the music's still playing. Might I have this dance, my lady?" ... She looks as if they caught us fucking instead of fighting.

Brienne is also marked as water/earth, and white, while Jaime is red and fire. Jaime tells Brienne:

Think of Tarth, mountains and seas, pools, waterfalls, whatever you have on your Sapphire Isle, think . . .

Jaime slid into the offered seat quickly, so Bolton could not see how weak he was. "White is for Starks. I'll drink red like a good Lannister." " "I would prefer water," said Brienne. "Elmar, the red for Ser Jaime, water for the Lady Brienne..."

But after their second chemical wedding in the baths, they take on each other's qualities much more. Jaime dons his white cloak, lives in the white tower, and gives Brienne his Valyrian steel sword, which is colored with Lannister red (and is also a phallic symbol).

Arya and Gendry

Arya and Gendry's scenes become slightly romantically charged in this book. After she dresses like a girl, this conversation takes place.

Gendry put the hammer down and looked at her. "You look different now. Like a proper little girl." "I look like an oak tree, with all these stupid acorns." "Nice, though. A nice oak tree." He stepped closer, and sniffed at her. "You even smell nice for a change."

They then fight in a scene that parallels the Brienne and Jaime wrestling scene above.

Reconciling Opposites:

Another idea in this book spoken of by multiple characters is that of reconciling opposites. That's what alchemy is fundamentally concerned with. Meera states that hate and love are essentially two sides of the same coin. Barristan says greatness and madness are the same. Melisande says:

"The night is dark and full of terrors, the day bright and beautiful and full of hope. One is black, the other white. There is ice and there is fire. Hate and love. Bitter and sweet. Male and female. Pain and pleasure. Winter and summer. Evil and good." She took a step toward him. "Death and life. Everywhere, opposites. Everywhere, the war."

Again, George has pretty much confirmed Dany and Jon are the Song of Ice and Fire, so they need to unite.

Tyrion

One thing I wonder about is the use of homonculus (sometimes represented as a dwarf) and a rebis in alchemy, and whether or not Tyrion is intended to be a portrayal of either or both or neither. Homonculi are sometimes called "monsters", a name Tyrion bitterly embraces by the end of the book. Oberyn says that after Tyrion's birth, there were rumors he had the genitalia of male and female, but Tyrion didn't. At the same time, he does have odd features like two different colored eyes, etc that might hint at him being seen as an alchemical rebis. I don't know.

Other Thoughts

Tyrion as a Targaryen

Not only do I think it doesn't thematically work to have Tyrion as a Targaryen, but I think the line used at the end of this book as evidence ("You . . . you are no . . . no son of mine") strongly indicates the opposite--that Tyrion is indeed his father's son. You see, Tywin literally says the exact same sentiment only a few chapters earlier to Jaime:

The strained silence went on until it was more than Jaime could endure. "Father . . . " he began.

"You are not my son." Lord Tywin turned his face away. "You say you are the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, and only that. Very well, ser. Go do your duty."

If people want to argue the Tyrion Targaryen angle, this is not really evidence itself.

Tyrion the Monster

Tyrion's the first of the Main Six to dive off the cliff, starting at the end of this book where he lies to Jaime to tell him he killed Joffrey, desperate to hurt Jaime the same way he's hurting. He's enraged he literally saved the city and no one cares; they all just want him dead for his disability, for things he cannot help. He can't even find love because of it, and he craves love. So he finally decides to be the monster they think he is.

Insofar as the other two likely heads of the dragon go... I think they'll take similar approaches to their dark spirals. We see hints of it this book. Daenerys won't look back until confronted with it, so she'll probably be like "let me prove myself with fire and blood" (actually, this is exactly what her ADWD arc leads to her deciding to do). Jon notes the fact that people assume bastards are craven and scheming, and I do not doubt that is exactly what Jon will become after he's resurrected: he's probably going to ditch the Wall, the fight, and everything for a time.

Jeyne Westerling

Poor Jeyne. Despite her mother's machinations to get Jeyne to seduce Robb, I do believe she and Robb genuinely loved each other--as much as anyone could. Their story seems to be a deconstruction of the "love at first sight" trope, wherein they love each other but don't entirely know each other, and have to get used to each other as people rather than as just objects of love. Hence, Jeyne turning to Catelyn for advice. Which frankly was a wise thing to do :'')

The True Fight

Davos reminds Stannis what the true fight is: up north, fighting the Others. I'm sorry but I can't see the books ending with the show's ending, where the true fight is against humans. No, this isn't thematically contradictory with the idea that the story is about humanity or the human heart against itself; the opposite in fact.

The true fight all humans face is against death, and what we do to live in the face of the reality that we're all going to die.

#daenerys targaryen #jonerys #jon snow #alchemy #a storm of swords #asos meta #asoiaf meta #asoiaf #davos seaworth #stannis baratheon #jeyne westerling #jaime lannister #braime #brienne of tarth #sansa stark #tyrion lannister #arya stark #gendry waters #sandor clegane

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