#also the gift part...I laughed so hard at the foreshadowing | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tojikai · 1 year ago

Text

Sundered 2: EMBERS

Pairing: Gojo x reader

Genre: Angst

tags/cw: angst, mean!gojo(kinda), babydaddy!gojo, babymomma!reader, motherhood, insecurities, arguments, implied pregnancy, mentions of abortion

word count: 5.4k

a/n: it's not sad.

Pining so intensely for something you never had to the point where you physically ache.

Each step that you take away from Satoru’s house feels like a stomp to your already broken heart. Your eyebrows furrowed, feeling the waterlines of your eyes start to get hot and itch. You recalled the noises and laughs that you heard from them while you walked out of their door.

They have no idea how much you want to get down on your knees and beg them not to take away the only thing you have left.

Your feet feel heavy with each stride you make toward your car. You could taste blood inside your mouth as you bit your inner lip to channel the pain away from your heart and to your body instead. You found yourself looking for answers on why all of this has to happen to you. As if being replaced by the man you love so easily and having to see how he treats someone else a thousand times better than you were not enough, you also have to witness your own flesh and blood turn away from you. Am I really that far behind that woman?

Is she that much better that even my own child prefers her over me?

You placed your hands on the steering wheel, looking down at your lap as you let the tears fall. You kept glancing over at the gate, hoping that Satoru would come out, running with your baby in his arms. Yet, you don’t want him to see you crying miserably. You swallowed thickly, letting out a large breath in an attempt to get rid of the painfully heavy feeling in your chest.

Driving away was numbing, and all sorts of thoughts ran inside your mind. But above all of them, your eyes were focused on the toy store as it got bigger in your view. You wondered about what you could get your little love to at least make her smile when she comes home. You remembered how your gift to her, her favorite bear that she used to hug as she sleeps ever since she was an infant, was cast aside as she clings to her new ones.

Is that a foreshadowing of how you’d end up being in her life? It scared you.

Reaching the parking lot of the store, you looked at yourself in the car mirror, noticing your bloodshot eyes. You inhaled and let a big breath out slowly, puffing your cheeks as you assured yourself that it’ll be fine when she comes home later. Your head hurts so much but you can’t afford to care, stepping out of your car and heading to the front door of the store. The first thing you saw was a pregnant, young lady checking baby books.

She reminded you of yourself when you were still pregnant with Yui; curious about everything, eager to learn, and all was about the baby. You admit that it wasn’t like that at first, given that you were young and had to drop out of college at that time. You were anxious, torn between decisions, and terrified of what life would be like for you from that point in time. During that period, you and Satoru were ignorant but trying hard to figure everything out.

You met Satoru at a nightclub where you worked as a bartender. He was flashy, and women just flock to him as if it was the most natural thing to do around him but that night, his eyes were on you. What with persistent offers of buying you drinks and talking to your manager to let you off early for the night, you ended up in a luxurious hotel suite with him.

He even wrote his number on the price tag of the fancy lingerie set that he bought you after he ruined the one you were wearing the previous night. He was joking that you’ll never get enough so he’s providing you his contact for next time. You thought that would be the end of it. You didn’t think that it was just fate giving you a helping hand in advance because you’d end up with a child together.

You consider it a dumb mistake. You know that Plan Bs exist. But with a working student like you who couldn’t even have time to get a proper boyfriend, it slipped your mind. The first thing you did after you got the results was call Satoru. You thanked the heavens that he wasn’t seeing anyone, and that he remembers you. It was a tense meeting, what with you asking if he wants you to abort the fetus. Next thing you know, you two were already dealing with your mood swings.

“Look, I really want to work this out with you, Y/N. For the baby.” Satoru sighed, slamming the door behind him as he watched you sit on your old couch. You lean your elbows on your knees as you covered your face with your hands, harshly running them down your cheeks to wipe away the big, fat tears that fell from your eyes. There are just so many things going on with your life.

“I’m only 21, Satoru. I got my whole life ahead of me.” You looked up at his tall figure, frustration was evident in your eyes. You can tell that he was also distressed. His hair was messy, his jaw was clenched tightly, and even if you cannot see behind his tinted glasses, you can tell that he hasn’t been getting enough sleep. The dark half-circles under his eyes and the redness in them show just how exhausted and disquieted he has been in the past few days.

Satoru’s five years older than you. He was born to a rich family of politicians who don't and probably will never need support from him or the other younger generations in their household. He has a stable source of income, he could probably make life investments that could cover your yearly living expenses. He has nothing to worry about, he won’t be dropping anything if he decides to take in another mouth to feed. But you…

You’re basically your mother’s retirement plan and now you got pregnant with a kid of a man you barely know. “Y/N, listen to me.” He got down on his knees in front of you, trying to take your hands off of your face as you sob, struggling to catch your breath. What’s going to happen to you now? You didn’t even get to finish the degree that your mother was working her ass off day and night for.

“You won’t have to worry about anything, you know? I’ll handle everything you need—” He trailed, trying to calm you down as he gently grabbed your forearms. “You don’t understand!” You cut him off, snatching your hands away, aggravated that he’s not thinking about how it could affect everything in your life. “Then, what the fuck do you want to do?!” You flinched as he raised his voice at you, breathing hard as he backed away.

“You think you’re the only one who’s going to be affected by this? You think you’re the only one who’s being robbed of another future! Open your fucking eyes, stop being selfish!” Satoru snapped back, harshly taking his glasses off before throwing it across the room. You started to cry, whimpering as you used the collar of your shirt to wipe your tears away.

“I’m scared, Satoru. I’m just so scared. I can’t even take care of myself, how am I supposed to raise a child…” You broke down, turning your body away from him. There was a long pause, a moment of pure silence, save from your sniffs and Satoru’s ragged breathing.

You felt the couch dip as he sat down before pulling you to him, letting you cry on his chest. “I know, I know. I’m sorry.” You would be lying if you said that the back rub, the temple kisses, and his whispers of reassurance didn’t calm you down. Those thoughts were recurring in your head and now that you finally let it all out and got answers from him, you were soothed.

You blinked hard, shaking your head to get out of your trance. You went straight to the dolls section. You can’t believe you just had a flashback of Satoru comforting you in the warmth of his chest. Your mouth started to twitch, wishing that he held you like that earlier when his girlfriend was slapping into your face that they’re gonna give your child siblings. It shouldn’t hurt you, but it still did. You realized that this girl, this woman is gonna have everything you wish you had with Satoru.

You walked past the kiddie pools and trampoline section, stopping when you saw a playpen, almost similar to the one Satoru bought for your little girl but smaller. The size doesn’t really matter though, because you know that you don’t have enough space in your place for something so big, anyway.

Going closer to check the prices, you bit your lip as your eyebrows bumped together. You were calculating your monthly expenses along with the money for your savings in case of emergency. It’s expensive but you’re determined to cut back just to buy it. You kept your eyes on the tag as you took half a step away from it but your back was met by something, or rather someone behind you.

“It’s not cheap, is it?” A man’s deep voice boomed as you turned around, but your eyes were met by a broad chest. He’s big, you thought. He’s literally blocking your view. It didn’t help that you were short enough to have to look up to see his face. He was also staring at the playpen as he held the pushcart beside him.

“Y-yeah…” You answered, a bit awkward as you found yourself admiring the guy. You admired fathers who are active when it comes to their children. You grew up without a father so, you just found it endearing. You looked away from the man, gritting your teeth as an image of Satoru and his girlfriend shopping for baby things appeared before your eyes for a split second.

“Excuse me, sir. I still have to buy my daughter a gift.” You bowed slightly before turning away. He just nodded his head, too occupied to even look at you. You proceeded to check out the little dolls, hoping that you’d find something that’ll really catch your daughter’s eye. Picking up a dark-haired baby doll with big blue eyes sitting on a stroller, you smiled as you remembered how it has the same eyes as your baby.

You went to pay for the doll, and your heart was filled with joy despite the throbbing pain in your skull and the hot feeling behind your eyes. You reminded yourself not to forget to take your medicine. Thinking about getting sick and having to leave your child for a couple of days with them again makes you anxious, afraid that she’ll never want to go home to you again.

You hurriedly went home, driving in the midst of the rain. You put the little doll on the chair, ready to surprise your baby girl when she comes back. You had to bear with the time, constantly checking your phone if your little girl and her dad are on the way to you. Your heart swelled at the thought.

Though, you know that you’ll never be the one he comes home to, it’s still nice to think about.

—--------------------------------

“She really called me Mama.” Naomi giggled as she kissed his daughter’s cheek. Satoru smiled, watching them play together warms his heart. It made him feel like he was staring at his family even if he knows that his daughter isn’t hers. He pursed his lips, remembering the look in your eyes at what you heard the child say.

He felt conflicted, not knowing how to react to all of it. He doesn’t want to embarrass his girlfriend by correcting her in front of you. But he also felt bad that he just watched you walk out that door on the verge of tears. Satoru had you memorized after all this time, it wasn’t a long time but he used to watch everything you do.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea, though.” Satoru sighed, shaking his head as he pushed a bit of Naomi’s hair away from her face. Her expression dropped as she adjusted the toddler in her arms. Satoru pulled her close to his side, hugging her waist as he thought about how to explain it to her without making her feel disheartened.

“I’m worried about how Y/N will feel about it, to be honest. I don’t know but it may worry her.” He kissed the side of her forehead before stepping away as he watches his daughter’s eyes look at them. He knows that she’s still too young but he feared that she’ll get confused by all of this.

Like why is her father not with her mother, and why is he holding someone else?

He wondered if she’ll grow to hate him for giving up on their family. “Oh, Is that so…I thought we were fine already.” Naomi’s voice was quiet as she bit her lip, making Satoru rethink. “It’s not that, I just think that maybe that’s how she might feel.” Satoru took one of her hands, kissing it before rubbing his thumb on her soft skin. “No, I understand, I got too comfortable. I’m just a girlfriend, I shouldn’t have done that.”

Satoru doesn’t want to make her feel like this, she’s just really attached to his baby. He knows that Naomi adores kids, they often joke around about it, so he could see why she’s excited about his daughter calling her Mama. Thinking about it now, maybe this shouldn’t be so bad. After all, she’s not gonna be just a girlfriend to him forever, right? Naomi is a great person, and Satoru thinks that it’s not impossible to have a future with her.

“Don’t say that. That’s just my assumption. She’ll tell if it’s not alright, I know. We’re co-parenting so we have to talk about those stuff.” Three squeezes to her hands made Naomi smile sweetly at him, her eyes as kind as the stars. “Yeah, discussions are important. I don’t want her to feel like I’m trying to keep her away from us.” The calmness in her voice comforted Satoru.

—-------------------------------------

After receiving a text from Satoru, you found yourself staring at the mirror, retouching your makeup like it’s gonna make him fall for you. Hopeless. Not long after, the doorbell rang and you dashed to the door. There, Satoru stood with Yui asleep on his shoulders. You took her bags, along with the teddy bear that she was hugging to her chest. Seeing her holding it again made you feel relieved.

“Are you feeling better now?” Satoru inquired, walking past you to put your kid in her little bed. You hummed in response, “She’s full, don’t give her any more milk. Naomi fed her before she fell asleep.” Her again. You thought as the small smile on your face dissipated. You’re just thankful that he didn’t take her with them here.

There was a moment of silence as the two of you watched your daughter sleep peacefully. A sigh escaped Satoru’s lips before he turned to you. He was about to say something, but closed his mouth, thinking. You took a deep breath, pursing your lips as you collected your thoughts. You started to rub your hands together, trying to get rid of the cold feeling on your fingertips.

Your communication issues with Satoru only worsened when he got a girlfriend. Seeing how he is with her made you doubt the importance of your words to him. It’s like if you get stuck in a room together with her and something happens, you’re almost certain that he’d accuse you first. You wouldn’t admit it but you yearn for him. You yearn for the way he acts towards her. You yearn for the things he does for her.

You yearn for the things he so easily, willingly offer to her; things you had to beg for when you were still together.

“Satoru, I just want to ask…Since when did Yui start to call Naomi Mama?” You looked at the ground, somewhat embarrassed of your question but can’t pinpoint why. It just made you feel…weak and insecure. And you are that. But you can’t let Satoru see it. You don’t want him to feel even more sorry for you. You can see it in his and his girlfriend’s eyes whenever they look at you. They probably pity you and the state you are in.

Alone. With no one to hold your pieces together but you.

“I don’t really remember. Look, I was going to mention that…” Satoru trailed, looking everywhere but you. He probably noticed your discomfort earlier. “I know it doesn’t seem right to you because she’s just my girlfriend but…” Here’s the “but” again. How come he can always find the good when it comes to her, even when she literally did you so wrong by letting your daughter call her Mama and even acting like one in front of you?

Ever since Satoru got a girlfriend, arguing with him started to feel like fighting in a war without any type of armor in your body. How are supposed to stand strong, when the fact that he’ll always be on her side was your weakness? There were times when you wanted to fight for yourself but you couldn’t bear to because you know that he was shielding her from everything, heedlessly deserting you.

“I didn’t really appreciate it. I mean… I-I just think she’s not in the place to—” You thought the words you chose to describe the situation were too risky when you were cut off by Satoru, taking his glasses off. You can’t read him but he’s looking at you with that apologetic gaze again. His face was filled with contrite and you can’t quite understand why. But like a mouse sensing danger, you wanted to run away.

“I…I’m thinking about proposing to Naomi.” It shouldn’t hurt. You told yourself again. You don’t have the right to feel hurt. This man disrespected you, hurt you, and made you feel so incredibly small yet here you are, wishing you were the one he wants to spend the rest of his life with. “I know she’s just my girlfriend now, but it’s bound to change.” You suddenly just wanted him to leave. “She…she’d like to ask for permission to let our daughter call her Mom. You know she treats Yui like she’s her—”

“I don’t want to.” You whispered firmly through gritted teeth, cutting Satoru off. You don’t wanna hear it anymore. You can’t go through that again and you can’t let that happen again. “Yui is my daughter, and I don’t want her calling anyone else Mama.” You looked up at him with glassy eyes before turning away to walk out of the room, not wanting to startle the toddler from her slumber. Satoru was instantly on your tail, calling your name.

“She’s my daughter, too. Y/n, what is wrong? I know that you have your limitations and that’s why I’m here to talk about it with you, but why are you acting like this?” He walked closer to you, trying to catch your eyes. “I know it’s not just about this, I know you’ve been having problems with her but give a reason, at least. She’s been nothing but good to our kid. ” It’s getting hard for you to breathe as you tried to process your emotions and his questions.

You proceeded to the kitchen, hurrying to grab yourself a bottle of water before you collapse, but failing terribly when Satoru spoke the next sentence “Y/N, we all have to adjust, don’t be unfair to her, she doesn’t deserve it.”

“And I do?!” You shouted at him, taking him by surprise and making him take a step back.

“You think she doesn’t deserve any of that shit but I DO?!” You lamented, shaking your head in pain and disbelief. There were tears streaming down your face and no pattern of breathing can help you control it. You were able to keep it in when he shoved his new girlfriend in your face several months ago, but now it’s taking its toll.

You were about to get the clothes that he bought for your daughter on your way home from work but were met with a woman snuggled up to him on his couch. You hated him for allowing you to see them like that when he knows that you haven’t even processed your split yet because a month before that, he was saying that he could fix his shortcomings for you and his daughter.

You remember how sick you felt in your stomach when he introduced her, saying that you weren’t supposed to see them like that. It’s revolting; how he thought that you were upset because of what you saw and not because he just went back on his words. Naomi kept her head down, standing in front of you as she muttered an apology before scurrying to Satoru’s room.

Naomi was his father’s new assistant and unlike you, she got to finish her studies. Despite being classmates in high school, she was three years older than you due to the frequent relocation of her family. Regardless of her tough childhood, she was known to be a smart kid. No wonder his mother approved of her in such a short amount of time.

You and Satoru were never perfect but it doesn’t mean that you were never happy with each other before. The issues overpowered your interest in each other, making it hard for the two of you to bounce back. You admit that you’ve been negligent of Satoru at a certain point of your relationship but it was only because you got tired of his ways.

He would come home late, making you stay up all night because he failed to reply when you texted him, asking him his whereabouts. He’d be out drinking with friends, and it wasn’t a problem but you just wanted him to at least let you know so wouldn’t be worrying to the point that you can’t even sleep.

His mother was overbearing. You got pregnant by someone’s son in a one-night stand and that’s all she paints you with. You were belittled and told that you can’t even take care of the child properly. Hell, was she so eager for Satoru to leave you and find someone better who achieved something in life.

Consequently, this negligence led to fits of jealousy from Satoru. This drove you to quit the job you used to have after a coworker of yours who only wanted to help became the subject of his suspicions. His mother saw you getting dropped off by your friend while she was babysitting your daughter.

It was only because your car broke down and you don’t want to bother Satoru at work. You couldn’t really blame him for thinking that way because you know that he’s been feeling invisible to you which wasn’t true. You just don’t know how to deal with it anymore and you started to pull yourself away.

It got to the point where you couldn’t even communicate how you truly feel about him because it was overshadowed by your problems. You were arrogant enough to tell him that someone could treat you right and do much better and now, look at you; standing before him and his girl. Longing for him and eating the words you spitefully told him.

Pining so intensely for something you never had to the point where you physically ache.

The memory was tormenting, heart-rending, and traumatic to you. And now you get to watch them write their happy ending while you are here, left in the dust, drowning in the feelings that will never ever get recognized and will never ever be relevant.

It hasn’t even been a year, and he’s already planning to marry her. He’s been nothing but better to her, yet, he couldn’t even change his ways for you and your child? Couldn’t he learn to truly love you after everything you endured just to be with him? You know that you have flaws, and chose some wrong steps and paths in your relationship.

But you can’t bear to lose him like this. You know that you could have fought more for your relationship. He’d always say that you’d work things out. So, why did he stop? How could he stop choosing you so easily?

“How could you give her the world, yet refuse me the tiny bit of what I have left?”

Your voice was small as you backed away, defeated. Satoru couldn’t move. From everything that has happened that morning, he could tell that you’ve been on edge. To Satoru, the only thing that connects you to him is his daughter. He refuses to believe that after all of that, you can still make it work.

At least, that’s the realization he came about when he met Naomi. She taught him that love isn’t supposed to be strenuous, it isn’t always about fighting. Within his tumultuous relationship with you, she came around and showed him that he’s seen. That his feelings are valid. He came to the conclusion that maybe he just wanted to love you because you have a child together.

“Tiny bit?” He asked, frustrated that you just won’t let this go easily, irked that you always think you’re the only one having a hard time. If Satoru’s being honest, he’s just tired of it all. He just wants you to understand his point and get it over with. But now you’re crying in front of him and again, he doesn’t know what to do. He can’t even think of the right things to say or the right decisions to make. It’s like it’s all back to square one with you.

“You call it ‘tiny bit’ when I couldn’t even live my life because of you?! I’ve given everything, Y/N! I just want to be at peace with everything and I’m obviously not having it with you!” You couldn’t even breathe through the piercing ache in your chest from the daggers that are coming out of his mouth. Your hand reached over to your chest, grasping your shirt as his every word irreversibly pulverized your already wounded heart.

“I wish I never met you that night and I wish I never had Yui with you. You’re a thorn in my side, Y/N!” By the time he finished screaming at you, you were shaking like a leaf, grabbing a chair beside your table as your wide eyes stared at him in shock. Grief, mortification, and agony were plastered on your face, and only then did Satoru’s words sink into him.

“Y/N, I—” Before he could even form a proper phrase, a loud cry erupted from the other room. Yui. He watched as you quickly wiped away your tears, seeing the emotions mix inside your eyes until they turned into a weeping void with all the tears pooling inside them.

“I…I loved you, Satoru. And I hate that even now that you’re kicking me while I’m down for the sake of someone else, I still love you.” The crack in your voice had Satoru subconsciously moving closer to you, opening his arms to pull you into him but you were quick to flinch away, sniveling.

“Please, just—just go. Do whatever you want, just d-don’t take Yui away. I’m fine with it now, Satoru.” It’s almost as though something in you died when he spoke those words to you. You don’t know if he heard because you couldn’t even hear yourself. You could feel the beat of your heart in your chest and each one of them sends a burning ache to your body. “Just go, please.” You whimpered as you bit your upper lip, looking down on the floor.

Satoru can’t take his eyes off of your fragile figure as you leaned on the kitchen counter, slowly walking back to your daughter’s room. He remained unmoving until you exited the kitchen area. It was only after a few minutes that he decided to go, not bothering to wipe away the tears that rolled down his face as he listened to your muffled cries behind the closed door.

Each sob was filled with anguish that Satoru knows he’ll never be able to erase.

—------------------------------------------------------

A few weeks later have passed yet Satoru still doesn’t know what to make of himself. He couldn’t focus on anything that he works on. He couldn’t even workout properly, he always ends up getting angry. It was a good thing that both he and Naomi were swarmed with tasks; they didn’t have time to interact any more than what their jobs would allow. If they did, Satoru isn’t sure if he’ll be able to focus on her. She still has time to visit every week, though. During those days, she spends her time with Satoru and sometimes, Yui.

He makes sure to free his time and himself completely when he’s with his daughter so he can give his full attention to her. Satoru picks her up from your house, same schedule as before. Sometimes it’s you, but other times, it was your mother. “All I asked of you was to never break her, Gojo.” were the first words she spoke to him. Satoru can’t look her in the eyes. Your mother was a kind woman, humble and unjudging. And to have her talking to him like that, Satoru was beyond ashamed.

He couldn’t give her a reason, or an answer. All he did was apologize. Like he should. Naomi was unaware of it all and the proposal that Satoru was planning for her was set aside due to all that had happened. He just doesn’t think it’s the right time to plan about it when his relationship with you is strained. Yes, you’re not together anymore but you’re still the mother of his child and he wants to be civil with you, at least.

Yui kept asking for you even when she was with him as if sensing that her Mama was hurting. She’s always carrying the new doll that you bought for her. Satoru once asked her if you cry and she would simply shake her head. He gets nothing out of it, of course, she’s just a kid. But who else could he ask?

Satoru has no idea what you have been doing. He knows that you go to work, but other than that, he’s clueless about the places you go to and why your mother started babysitting his daughter more during the past few days. Satoru thought that maybe you just can’t stand seeing him anymore and is refusing to face him whenever he picks his daughter up. You have every right and reason to despise him, after all.

So, now he stands on the other side of your door, wondering if he’ll get to see your face this time or be welcomed with the frowning face of your mother. He knocked three times, like he always does, adjusting the collar of his shirt. To his surprise, it wasn’t any of the two women he was expecting holding the door open for him.

“Who are you?” A shirtless man with a muscular build stood before Satoru, a curious yet accusatory gaze scanned him like he was an intruder in his own woman’s home. He leaned on his tattooed arm against the doorframe, blocking the tiny view he has of the inside. It pissed him off, clenching his jaw for a few seconds before speaking.

“Who are you?” Satoru bit back, raising his brows in an attempt to intimidate the guy. He’s only a couple of centimeters taller than the stranger but he’s bigger. It wasn’t a big deal to him until the man opened the door wider. A short, deep chuckle escaped his lips before a smug smirk appeared on his face.

Tilting his head, the man gave Satoru a clear look at the scratches adorning his nape and the purple and maroon marks on his jaw. It made Satoru’s blood boil, unreasonably so.

“Think you know who I am now?”

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thenerdkingqueen · 3 years ago

Text

an analysis/easter eggs/things that i've noticed on Tommyinnit's Unbeatable Method of Avoiding Sudden Death

spoilers, be aware psa: most of this was said by the creator themself on the final chapter, also this is a pretty long post

Easter Eggs:

the angel reaching tommy (the fic starts with angel approaching tommy and it end with the angel and tommy)

mention of how tommy is young (in his limbo he is 16 but in real life he is 12)

someone saying "tommy is not a hero"

mentions of how clementine is a blessing from the gods/his guardian/his saviour

a gun that cannot kill people

everytime that tommy is close to "dying" some miracle happens and he's saved (most, if not all, the times it happens with clementine present or because of clementine)

tommy avoiding the news

a lot of religious symbolism (tommy mentioning jesus, affirming that clementine is a gift from gods, calling michael a demon, etc)

clementine being "rebellious" (on my notes this started around chapter 5, starts to disagree more with tommy around chapter 14 and then this becomes prominent towards the end)

tommy subconsciously believing that he set fire to the building/city (mentioned in multiple chapters, first in chapter 6 and so on and on)

ranboo liking spaghetti

tommy childish behavior that can only be comprehended in the end of the fic

tommy playing with techno's sword (alluding to the real world were techno was into fencing)

tommy mentioning the five stages of grief

mentions of how the fic is supposed to follow the same ideas as cartoon shows about heroes (tubbo talking about how the characters don't have "plot armour" because they aren't the "main characters", tommy talking about a beach episode and bloopers, etc)

tommy always trying to be the one to save the others (how he reasures tubbo that hes the one supposed to save the others, saving techno on a mission, wilbur telling him that he saved them, etc)

the reality changing in a way that fits tommy the best (in my notes i said that the first time that we see this happening is when tommy goes to buy fast food and somehow got an order that they didn't have at first)

tommy missing the jump but wilbur catches him before he falls (it happens in chapter 9 and in chapter 28)

techno being defenestrated the most alluding to his death

techno not wanting to babysit tommy (chapter 10, chapter 14 and chapter 27)

tommy calling wilbur bald

chapters were is just a conversation between clementine and tommy

multiple mentions of how tommy is "not ready"

mentions of how tommy misses his family (chapter 18 with wilbur saying that "its okay" if tommy missed him, chapter 23 with tommy mentioning that he "missed this")

mentions of the world falling apart

tommy's mom loving clementines tea

the news on tv

tommy being a fan of vigilantes

wilbur singing

Paragraphs that are worth mentioning:

Tommy in chapter 6 about Tubbo:

“Shhh,” Tommy soothes calmly, “I’m reminiscing about our relationship. I’m grieving.” Tubbo stares at him in exasperation. “Grieving what?” “The end.”

Tommy about himself also in chapter 6:

Maybe he did die.

Now that he’s aware, he can feel the wind blowing through his hair, feels his soaked suit sticking to his body uncomfortably. He shivers."

Tubbo and Tommy in chapter 7:

"Tommy pouts, “Why are you leaving me?” Tubbo sighs, “Tommy you know I have to go at some point.”

also in chapter 7:

“No Ranboo slander in this household,” Tubbo says sternly, “I’ll be back soon Tom.” “You won’t,” Tommy sniffs, “You’re leaving forever.”

the world around Tommy while he's sick (foreshadowing):

"The world blurs for a second and he stabilizes himself against the wall."

Clementine in chapter 7:

“ Tommy ,” A voice croons for him. “ Wake up. Wake up Tommy,” It says, “ You need to wake up. This isn’t re-“

Tommy and Clementine in chapter 9, Tommy showing that he is on denial:

"Clementine does a flip. “No, no. We don’t talk about what happened. Nothing happened. I don’t even know what you are talking about, like I honestly have no idea what you are about. I don’t even know what heroes are. Who are heroes? That’s crazy, never heard of them. Do they even exist? That’s crazy. Clementine shut the fuck up,” He groans, shuddering as he relives the embarrassment of a lifetime. Clementine stares."

foreshadowing in chapter 11:

"Tommy glares at them. How do they not understand the severity of the situation? Children, the lot of them. “You will all understand soon enough,” Tommy sighs, shaking his head, “And then, you will feel deep, deep regret.”

foreshadowing again on chapter 23:

“Mhm,” He cries into the man’s chest, “Okay,” He believes. He chooses to believe Wilbur. “I’ve- I’ve missed this,” He confesses. I’ve missed you, he doesn’t say. “I know,” Wilbur hums. “It’s okay. Merry Christmas, Tommy.”

the narrative changing and the people around tommy realizing where they are/tommy and the people around him acting weird:

Wilbur in chapter 25:

“You can stop, if you want,” Wilbur looks him in the eye. Tommy’s grin freezes. “What?” “You can stop, Tommy. We don’t have to pretend anymore.”

Phil and Tommy on chapter 25:

"Phil frowns, offended, “You don’t like heroes.” “They don’t exist.” Phil laughs this time, slightly bewildered, “Mate, I’m a hero.” Tommy turns to him, eyes dulled, “Are you?”

Tommy and Jack on chapter 26:

“I mean, really, when have you actually helped someone? Other than yourself, that is,” Manifold scoffs. “You think you’re so above everyone here, above the world-“ “That’s because I am, ” Tommy stares, eyes hard."

my actual thoughts/analysis (this is very disorganized because it's literally just the notes the I made when i was re-reading):

Tommy's limbo is a world made by him, he aged himself up (he was 12 but 16 in the limbo) and i think thats one of the reasons of why swears a lot (in chapter 27 philza says that tommy could only swear in his adolescence)

Through the fic we can see how much Tommy resents and feels guilty about everything that happened, the multiple mentions of how he didn't know who "burned the building" are an example

i genuinely believe that the hoodie that he wears in the fic is wilbur's hoodie (in chapter 27 they are fighting because of a hoodie) and i think that is an indirect way of tommy saying "i love you" and "i miss you"

i also believe that the reason of why he lives in an apartment with tubbo is because he feels guilty for not being able to save him

In the beginning of the fic tommy deflects what happened and projects in a much lighter, much happier, way. He has a gun that cannot kill, he thinks that fire is "pogchamp", he jokes about defenestration, etc

At some point the world building start to get "weird", tommy being hired wouldn't make sense in the actual world but since it's a world made by a child with childish ideas he ends up getting hired anyways, a lot of times Tommy acts like a kid and not a teenager, later is explained that hes actually 12

Tommy also don't want to leave but he wants to be saved, this is shown when he begs for Clementine to save him in chapter 12, he wants his life back but he also wants Clementine to be part of it

Eneli starts to refer to the boys as brothers in cahpter 19, before this tommy was just an orphan (this fact is refuted in chapter 23, when tommy says that he "wasn't always a orphan")

Tommy struggles to say what Clementine is to him, probably because he realized that she is not his daughter but his mother, my best bet is that Tommy made Clementine to be his daughter because he couldn't bare the thought of having a mother, he mentions that "parents do the abandoning" and i feel like that its how he felt when his mother died, before he also mentioned how she already abandoned him once, he is also super protective of her, and in chapter 26 he almost lost her entirely. In some ways Clementine is death, and thats something that he cannot and does not want to deal with, but shes also his mother and he loves her (this can be see through the fic but especially in chapter 26)

I feel like Phil having wings is a red herring to fool the reader, this makes the reader believe that he is the one who saved Tommy in the beginning

#tumoasd #tommyinnit's unbeatable method of avoiding sudden death #please i wrote this in separated days and i still feel like im missing something or just repeating eneli #anyways here it is #tommyinnit #eneli #:D

362 notes · View notes

istumpysk · 3 years ago

Text

Operation Stumpy Re-Read

A CLASH OF KINGS

Summary & Foreshadowing Smorgasbord (Part I)

So you like foreshadowing, huh? Well you're in luck, because I enjoy punishing myself with unnecessary workload.

Enjoy!

ACOK Part I: UNDER THE CUT

Sansa Stark, Queen in the North

Jon Snow, King in the North

Jon (Aemon?) Snow

Jon the Builder & His Gift

Ahoy Matey! Arya Stark Sails the Ocean Blue

Bran the Broken, King of Westeros

High Septon Rickon? Please?

The Twins Meet Their End in the Mines of Casterly Rock? King's Landing? I Don't Know Anymore

Tyrion Lannister, (Prisoner?) Hand of the King

Dark Daenerys Highlights & Laughs

A Dagger in the Flesh: Stark vs. Targ

Storm x Storm 🦑🖤🐉

Greatest Unsolved Mysteries, the Fostering of Sweetrobin

JONSA 🐺❤️❄️

ACOK Part II: CLICK

Chapter Transitions

AGOT Summary & Foreshadowing: CLICK

Stumpy note:

If I neglected to give you credit for discovering something, please contact me and I'll rectify that.

I'd also like to thank everyone that participated in the reread project. All of you have great observations and comments, I wish I could highlight them all. 🙂

Alright, let's go.

SANSA STARK, QUEEN IN THE NORTH

The author loves his clever wordplay: there will be a marriage to the queen's cousin.

The talk was she would soon be wed to one of the queen's cousins, so the Lannisters might claim her lands. - Sansa I, ACOK

+.+.+

Anon delivers a great historical parallel.

Sansa had favored her mother's gods over her father's. She loved the statues, the pictures in leaded glass, the fragrance of burning incense, the septons with their robes and crystals, the magical play of the rainbows over altars inlaid with mother-of-pearl and onyx and lapis lazuli. Yet she could not deny that the godswood had a certain power too. Especially by night. Help me, she prayed, send me a friend, a true knight to champion me . . . - Sansa II, ACOK

+.+.+

Is it a metaphor for the monotony of ruling? A commentary on the lack of freedom a monarch enjoys? Are they practicing before the real thing?

An interesting parallel is established between a future king and future queen. Credit to @agentrouka-blog.

Sansa was allowed to go riding too, but only in the bailey, and it got boring going round in a circle all day. - Sansa II, ACOK

Bran sat strapped to her back in the oversize saddle the Imp had drawn up for him, but for the past fortnight he had been riding her on his own, trotting her round and round, and growing bolder with every circuit. - Bran V, AGOT

If I'm the prince, why won't you heed me? I wanted to ride Dancer, but Alebelly wouldn't let me past the gate. - Bran I, ACOK

+.+.+

Desperately searching for a hero, Sansa appears to symbolically knight Dontos Hollard, a custom reserved only for knights and monarchs.

He licked his lips nervously. "Will you put away your blade?"

Sansa slipped the knife beneath her cloak. "Rise, ser." - Sansa II, ACOK

+.+.+

Keep your hands off the queen.

"Nothing to say, Your Grace?" his uncle went on. "Good. Learn to use your ears more and your mouth less, or your reign will be shorter than I am. Wanton brutality is no way to win your people's love . . . or your queen's." – Sansa III, ACOK

+.+.+

Some things don't require an introduction. 🙂

"Another lesson you should learn, if you hope to sit beside my son. Be gentle on a night like this and you'll have treasons popping up all about you like mushrooms after a hard rain. The only way to keep your people loyal is to make certain they fear you more than they do the enemy."

"I will remember, Your Grace," said Sansa, though she had always heard that love was a surer route to the people's loyalty than fear. If I am ever a queen, I'll make them love me. - Sansa VI, ACOK

+.+.+

In a speech that's unquestionably describing Sansa's journey, we're reminded of what Cersei Lannister became.

Jaime learned to fight with sword and lance and mace, while I was taught to smile and sing and please. He was heir to Casterly Rock, while I was to be sold to some stranger like a horse, to be ridden whenever my new owner liked, beaten whenever he liked, and cast aside in time for a younger filly. Jaime's lot was to be glory and power, while mine was birth and moonblood."

"But you were queen of all the Seven Kingdoms," Sansa said. - Sansa VII, ACOK

+.+.+

A queen bails on her duties. Somebody was a quick study, and assumed the role.

"You asked them here, Your Grace."

"Certain things are expected of a queen. They will be expected of you should you ever wed Joffrey. Best learn." - Sansa VI, ACOK

"Get out of my way." Cersei slammed her open palm into his wound. Ser Lancel cried out in pain and almost fainted as the queen swept from the room. She spared Sansa not so much as a glance. She's forgotten me. Ser Ilyn will kill me and she won't even think about it.

"Oh, gods," an old woman wailed. "We're lost, the battle's lost, she's running." Several children were crying. They can smell the fear. Sansa found herself alone on the dais. Should she stay here, or run after the queen and plead for her life?

She never knew why she got to her feet, but she did. "Don't be afraid," she told them loudly. "The queen has raised the drawbridge. This is the safest place in the city. There's thick walls, the moat, the spikes . . ." - Sansa VII, ACOK

+.+.+

The Traitor Queen.

Sire, your councillors beg you, for the good of your realm, set Sansa Stark aside. The Lady Margaery will make you a far more suitable queen."

Like a pack of trained dogs, the lords and ladies in the hall began to shout their pleasure. "Margaery," they called. "Give us Margaery!" and "No traitor queens! Tyrell! Tyrell!" - Sansa VIII, ACOK

+.+.+

Nobody bothered to figure it out.

"Yes. But if I'm not to be queen, what will become of me?"

"That will need to be determined. For the moment, you shall remain here at court, as our ward." - Sansa VIII, ACOK

+.+.+

JON SNOW, KING IN THE NORTH

Jon Snow visits the King's Tower.

Lord Commander Mormont had taken up residence in the King's Tower after the fire had gutted his own. Jon left Ghost with the guards outside the door. - Jon I, ACOK

The Lord Commander had given him rooms in the King's Tower—so-called, though no king had visited it for a hundred years - Jon III, AGOT

+.+.+

Pay close attention to talking birds.

"King," croaked the raven. The bird flapped across the solar to land on Mormont's shoulder. "King," it said again, strutting back and forth.

"He likes that word," Jon said, smiling.

"An easy word to say. An easy word to like."

"King," the bird said again.

"I think he means for you to have a crown, my lord."

"The realm has three kings already, and that's two too many for my liking." Mormont stroked the raven under the beak with a finger, but all the while his eyes never left Jon Snow. - Jon I, ACOK

The Old Bear snorted. "He'll regret that. Damned things make a lot of noise, but they never say a thing worth hearing." - Jon II, ACOK

+.+.+

Are you sure about that?

"I've always known that Robb would be Lord of Winterfell."

Mormont gave a whistle, and the bird flew to him again and settled on his arm. "A lord's one thing, a king's another." He offered the raven a handful of corn from his pocket. "They will garb your brother Robb in silks, satins, and velvets of a hundred different colors, while you live and die in black ringmail. He will wed some beautiful princess and father sons on her. You'll have no wife, nor will you ever hold a child of your own blood in your arms. Robb will rule, you will serve. Men will call you a crow. Him they'll call Your Grace. Singers will praise every little thing he does, while your greatest deeds all go unsung. Tell me that none of this troubles you, Jon . . . and I'll name you a liar, and know I have the truth of it." - Jon I, ACOK

+.+.+

AGOT Rewind.

We receive a bit more clarification on what those nine weirwoods in a circle might symbolize. Small problem, is this Bran or Jon foreshadowing? We're putting it in both.

The ancient crown of the Kings of Winter had been lost three centuries ago, yielded up to Aegon the Conqueror when Torrhen Stark knelt in submission. What Aegon had done with it no man could say. Lord Hoster's smith had done his work well, and Robb's crown looked much as the other was said to have looked in the tales told of the Stark kings of old; an open circlet of hammered bronze incised with the runes of the First Men, surmounted by nine black iron spikes wrought in the shape of longswords. Of gold and silver and gemstones, it had none; bronze and iron were the metals of winter, dark and strong to fight against the cold. - Catelyn I, ACOK

The sun was sinking below the trees when they reached their destination, a small clearing in the deep of the wood where nine weirwoods grew in a rough circle. - Jon VI, AGOT

+.+.+

Kings don't have mothers, eh?

He wants me gone, Catelyn thought wearily. Kings are not supposed to have mothers, it would seem, and I tell him things he does not want to hear. - Catelyn I, ACOK

+.+.+

Gilly asks Jon for help.

"No." He could hear the defeat in her voice. "Sorry to be of trouble, m'lord. I only . . . they said the king keeps people safe, and I thought . . ." Despairing, she ran, Sam's cloak flapping behind her like great black wings. - Jon III, ACOK

+.+.+

Three monarchs are served a very similar dish.

Credit to @minitafan for first spotting this trend in AGOT.

The rabbit had been a scrawny thing, but as it cooked it smelled like a king's feast. - Jon III, ACOK

He served you the king's cut off the roast, the meat rare and bloody, but with a savory smell that made everyone's mouth water. - Bran IV, ACOK

And when the meat course was brought out, he served her himself, slicing a queen's portion from the joint, smiling as he laid it on her plate. - Sansa II, AGOT

+.+.+

Rightful king -> Rhaegal.

"Then I grieve for you, Dragonmother, and for bleeding Westeros, bereft of its rightful king."

Beneath Dany's gentle fingers, green Rhaegal stared at the stranger with eyes of molten gold. - Daenerys II, ACOK

+.+.+

Black on black, cold crowns of snow.

The sky was cloudless, the jagged mountains rising black on black until the very top, where their cold crowns of snow and ice shone palely in the moonlight. - Jon VI, ACOK

+.+.+

Mance Rayder and Jon Snow appear to have a lot of things in common.

Why did he desert?

"She even claimed we were kin. She told me a story . . ." ". . . of Bael the Bard and the rose of Winterfell. So Stonesnake told me. It happens I know the song. Mance would sing it of old, when he came back from a ranging. He had a passion for wildling music. Aye, and for their women as well." "You knew him?" "We all knew him." His voice was sad. They were friends as well as brothers, Jon realized, and now they are sworn foes. "Why did he desert?" "For a wench, some say. For a crown, others would have it." - Jon VII, ACOK

+.+.+

What comes immediately after death?

"If you like." Their voices blended as one beneath the rising moon, while Ghost listened and the mountains themselves bore witness. "Night gathers, and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. I shall wear no crowns and win no glory. I shall live and die at my post. I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men. I pledge my life and honor to the Night's Watch, for this night and all the nights to come." - Jon VIII, ACOK

+.+.+

JON (AEMON?) SNOW

This could only be more obvious if you turned the page and saw JON in big bold letters.

"Well, you're nothing but a bastard boy!" Or maybe he was only pretending to be a bastard boy. "What's your true name?" - Arya II, ACOK

+.+.+

Are Aemon and Aemon both the younger son?

"Blind he may be, but Aemon knows what he's about. I pray the gods let us keep him another twenty years. Do you know that he might have been king?"

Jon was taken by surprise. "He told me his father was king, but not . . . I thought him perhaps a younger son." - Jon I, ACOK

+.+.+

Are Aemon and Aemon both named after the Dragonknight?

"Maester Aemon was named for the Dragonknight." - Jon I, ACOK

+.+.+

Does Aemon refuse a king, not wanting to usurp his sister's claim to Winterfell?

The new king summoned all his sons to court and would have made Aemon part of his councils, but he refused, saying that would usurp the place rightly belonging to the Grand Maester. - Jon I, ACOK

+.+.+

Was there a Great Council? Did Aemon quietly refuse the throne? Was his little brother, Aegon the Broken, chosen instead?

Jon was not entirely innocent of the history of the realm; his own maester had seen to that. "That was the year of the Great Council," he said. "The lords passed over Prince Aerion's infant son and Prince Daeron's daughter and gave the crown to Aegon."

"Yes and no. First they offered it, quietly, to Aemon. And quietly he refused. The gods meant for him to serve, not to rule, he told them. He had sworn a vow and would not break it, though the High Septon himself offered to absolve him.

[...]

they had no choice but to turn to Aemon's younger brother—Aegon, the Fifth of His Name. Aegon the Unlikely, they called him, born the fourth son of a fourth son. Aemon knew, and rightly, that if he remained at court those who disliked his brother's rule would seek to use him, so he came to the Wall.

"I didn't catch anything," Bran said, "but Jon gave me his fish on the way back to Winterfell. Will we ever see Jon again?" - Bran V, AGOT

+.+.+

Which brother?

"Must I have a reason?" Mormont shifted in his seat, frowning. "Your brother Robb has been crowned King in the North. You and Aemon have that in common. A king for a brother." - Jon I, ACOK

+.+.+

JON THE BUILDER & HIS GIFT

Fear not, friends. Currently most of Jon's foreshadowing revolves around RJL, kingship, the dance, and Sansa Stark. The good news is, we've finally made it to ASOS, and Jon the Builder is about to get loud.

Bran would like to gift some land to the bastard Snow.

"Then let Lord Hornwood's bastard be the heir," Bran said, thinking of his half brother Jon.

[...]

Ser Rodrik commanded the man to set aside a fifth, and questioned the steward closely about Lord Hornwood's bastard, the boy Larence Snow. In the north, all highborn bastards took the surname Snow. This lad was near twelve, and the steward praised his wits and courage.

"Your notion about the bastard may have merit, Bran," Maester Luwin said after. "One day you will be a good lord for Winterfell, I think." - Bran II, ACOK

+.+.+

AHOY MATEY! ARYA STARK SAILS THE OCEAN BLUE

Listen to him, Arya. Board that ship.

He spat out the old sourleaf. "A ship now, might have been wiser. No chance o' finding more men on the way, but still . . . clever man, he'd go by ship, but me . . . thirty years I been taking this kingsroad." He sheathed his dirk. "Go to sleep, boy. Hear me?" - Arya III, ACOK

+.+.+

Answer the call.

Some days, as they made their slow way up the muddy shore (Gendry wanted no part of any roads, and even Hot Pie and Lommy saw the sense in that), Arya felt as though the lake were calling her. She wanted to leap into those placid blue waters, to feel clean again, to swim and splash and bask in the sun. - Arya V, ACOK

+.+.+

I see you, Quaithe.

To go north, you must journey south -> Sansa

To reach the west, you must go east -> Arya

To go forward you must go back -> Bran

To touch the light you must pass beneath the shadow -> Jon

"To go north, you must journey south. To reach the west, you must go east. To go forward you must go back, and to touch the light you must pass beneath the shadow." - Daenerys III, ACOK

+.+.+

I bet it's a beautiful song.

He sang of Jonquil and Florian, of Prince Aemon the Dragonknight and his love for his brother's queen, of Nymeria's ten thousand ships. - Sansa VI, ACOK

+.+.+

Maybe you could see it all.

Might be it's from Robb, come to say it wasn't true about Bran and Rickon. She chewed on her lip, hoping. If I had wings I could fly back to Winterfell and see for myself. And if it was true, I'd just fly away, fly up past the moon and the shining stars, and see all the things in Old Nan's stories, dragons and sea monsters and the Titan of Braavos, and maybe I wouldn't ever fly back unless I wanted to. - Arya X, ACOK

+.+.+

The brilliance of @aegor-bamfsteel on full display.

"What did you think I would do?" Her fingers were sticky with blood, and the smell was making her mare skittish. It's no matter, she thought, swinging up into the saddle. The rain will wash them clean again. - Arya X, ACOK

+.+.+

BRAN THE BROKEN, KING OF WESTEROS

Credit to @agentrouka-blog for noticing Bran prefers an uncomfortable seat, unlike his counterparts.

Bran preferred the hard stone of the window seat to the comforts of his featherbed and blankets. - Bran I, ACOK

And the people … there is no end of them. I sit on that damnable iron chair and listen to them complain until my mind is numb and my ass is raw. - Eddard I, AGOT

By midday Daenerys was feeling the weight of the crown upon her head, and the hardness of the bench beneath her.

[...]

The slippers the Butcher King had sent her had grown too uncomfortable. Dany kicked them off and sat with one foot tucked beneath her and the other swinging back and forth. It was not a very regal pose, but she was tired of being regal. The crown had given her a headache, and her buttocks had gone to sleep. - Daenerys I, ADWD

+.+.+

Prince Bran moans over what he should be allowed to do, and sounds more like a king in the process.

"Summer would save me," Bran insisted stubbornly. "Princes should be allowed to sail the sea and hunt boar in the wolfswood and joust with lances." - Bran I, ACOK

"Let me tell you a secret, Ned. More than once, I have dreamed of giving up the crown. Take ship for the Free Cities with my horse and my hammer, spend my time warring and whoring, that's what I was made for. - Eddard VII, AGOT

Robert loved to hunt boar. I have seen him take a thousand of them. - Eddard XIII, AGOT

Now everybody heard him. "No," he thundered in a voice that drowned out all other speech. Sansa was shocked to see the king on his feet, red of face, reeling. He had a goblet of wine in one hand, and he was drunk as a man could be. "You do not tell me what to do, woman," he screamed at Queen Cersei. "I am king here, do you understand? I rule here, and if I say that I will fight tomorrow, I will fight!" - Sansa II, AGOT

+.+.+

AGOT Rewind.

We receive a bit more clarification on what those nine weirwoods in a circle might symbolize. Small problem, is this Bran or Jon foreshadowing? We're putting it in both.

The sun was sinking below the trees when they reached their destination, a small clearing in the deep of the wood where nine weirwoods grew in a rough circle. - Jon VI, AGOT

+.+.+

Bran doesn’t find governing quite as tedious as Queen Daenerys or King Robert.

"As you will, my prince," said Ser Rodrik. "You did well." Bran flushed with pleasure. Being a lord was not so tedious as he had feared - Bran II, ACOK

Laws are a tedious business and counting coppers is worse. And the people … there is no end of them. - Eddard I, AGOT

The rest was a tedium the queen knew well. She sat upon her cushions, listening, one foot jiggling with impatience. - Daenerys VII, ADWD

+.+.+

Three monarchs are served a very similar dish.

Credit to @minitafan for first spotting this trend in AGOT.

She paid that no heed. "You were sitting at supper, but instead of a servant, Maester Luwin brought you your food. He served you the king's cut off the roast, the meat rare and bloody, but with a savory smell that made everyone's mouth water. - Bran IV, ACOK

The rabbit had been a scrawny thing, but as it cooked it smelled like a king's feast. - Jon III, ACOK

And when the meat course was brought out, he served her himself, slicing a queen's portion from the joint, smiling as he laid it on her plate. - Sansa II, AGOT

+.+.+

That's not the only meal shared by kings.

Bran was almost afraid to sit to supper that night, but when he did, it was pigeon pie they set before him. - Bran IV, AGOT

"My uncle hasn't eaten his pigeon pie." Holding the chalice one-handed, Joff jammed his other into Tyrion's pie. "It's ill luck not to eat the pie," he scolded as he filled his mouth with hot spiced pigeon. "See, it's good." - Tyrion VIII, ASOS

+.+.+

A Great Council, so Bran can tell his tale.

"Robb will set aside his crown if you and your brother will do the same," she said, hoping it was true. She would make it true if she must; Robb would listen to her, even if his lords would not. "Let the three of you call for a Great Council, such as the realm has not seen for a hundred years. We will send to Winterfell, so Bran may tell his tale and all men may know the Lannisters for the true usurpers. Let the assembled lords of the Seven Kingdoms choose who shall rule them." - Catelyn IV, ACOK

+.+.+

A crown sits atop the broken tower.

Behind him the broken tower stood, its summit as jagged as a crown where fire had collapsed the upper stories long ago. - Theon VI, ACOK

+.+.+

Lie with Kings?

Their footsteps echoed through the cavernous crypts. The shadows behind them swallowed his father as the shadows ahead retreated to unveil other statues; no mere lords, these, but the old Kings in the North. On their brows they wore stone crowns. Torrhen Stark, the King Who Knelt. Edwyn the Spring King. Theon Stark, the Hungry Wolf. Brandon the Burner and Brandon the Shipwright. Jorah and Jonos, Brandon the Bad, Walton the Moon King, Edderion the Bridegroom, Eyron, Benjen the Sweet and Benjen the Bitter, King Edrick Snowbeard. Their faces were stern and strong, and some of them had done terrible things, but they were Starks every one, and Bran knew all their tales. He had never feared the crypts; they were part of his home and who he was, and he had always known that one day he would lie here too. - Bran VII, ACOK

+.+.+

HIGH SEPTON RICKON? PLEASE?

Kudos to @fedonciadale for noticing a boy goes missing for the entire series... along with the High Septon's crown.

Tyrek was still missing, as was the High Septon's crystal crown. - Tyrion IX, ACOK

+.+.+

Rickon sighting in the Great Sept! Thank you, @minitafan.

Sansa visited each of the Seven in turn, lighting a candle at each altar, and then found herself a place on the benches between a wizened old washerwoman and a boy no older than Rickon, dressed in the fine linen tunic of a knight's son. - Sansa V, ACOK

+.+.+

Here sits Lord Barth between Lord Jonnel and Lord Brandon. Lord Barth, the fourth born son, has a notable history with Skagos. Even more interesting, he shares a name with a famous septon.

Coincidence or conspiracy?

When the shadows moved, it looked for an instant as if the dead were rising as well. Lyanna and Brandon, Lord Rickard Stark their father, Lord Edwyle his father, Lord Willam and his brother Artos the Implacable, Lord Donnor and Lord Beron and Lord Rodwell, one-eyed Lord Jonnel, Lord Barth and Lord Brandon and Lord Cregan who had fought the Dragonknight. - Bran VII, ACOK

+.+.+

THE TWINS MEET THEIR END IN CASTERLY ROCK? KING’S LANDING? I DON’T KNOW ANYMORE

(Me thinks we're going to need their POVs to get to the bottom of this.)

There's cells of sand underneath King's Landing, set to be released if fire is detected. Tyrion is most interested, and wouldn't mind taking a look at the end of the war. He might not have a choice.

@fedonciadale notes that being smothered by sand might be considered a poetic end for a family that has a lot of unfinished business with House Martell. Heh.

Above each work cell is a room filled entirely with sand. A protective spell has been laid on the floors, hmmm, most powerful. Any fire in the cell below causes the floors to fall away, and the sand smothers the blaze at once."

"Not to mention the careless acolyte." By spell Tyrion imagined Hallyne meant clever trick. He thought he would like to inspect one of these false-ceilinged cells to see how it worked, but this was not the time. Perhaps when the war was won. - Tyrion V, ACOK

+.+.+

Ashes in her mouth... literally?

"I have never liked you, Cersei, but you were my own sister, so I never did you harm. You've ended that. I will hurt you for this. I don't know how yet, but give me time. A day will come when you think yourself safe and happy, and suddenly your joy will turn to ashes in your mouth, and you'll know the debt is paid." - Tyrion XII, ACOK

+.+.+

Maybe one day you will show us the bowels of Casterly Rock.

"You brought this on yourself," she reminded him. "We granted you the comfort of a tower cell befitting your birth and station. You repaid us by trying to escape."

"A cell is a cell. Some under Casterly Rock make this one seem a sunlit garden. One day perhaps I'll show them to you." - Catelyn VII, ACOK

+.+.+

TYRION LANNISTER, (PRISONER?) HAND OF THE KING

Whatever.

His sister had taken the king's seat for herself—he gathered Joffrey did not often trouble to attend council meetings, no more than Robert had—so Tyrion climbed up into the Hand's chair. It seemed only appropriate. - Tyrion I, ACOK

+.+.+

Mercy for the vanquished Lannister? A chance to cleanse his shame?

"And Chella told him only cowards kill the vanquished."

"Braver to leave the man alive, with a chance to cleanse his shame by winning back his ear," explained Chella - Tyrion I, ACOK

+.+.+

Why not both?

A demon's head, Tyrion thought ruefully, now what does that say of me? "Master Salloreon, I plan to fight the rest of my battles from this chair. It's links I need, not demon horns. So let me put it to you this way. You will make chains, or you will wear them. The choice is yours." - Tyrion III, ACOK

+.+.+

DARK DAENERYS HIGHLIGHTS & LAUGHS

Azor Ahai must have a great public relations team, because this doesn't sound like much of a hero to me. Salladhor Saan and Davos seem to agree.

Below, @une-nuit-pour-se-souvenir and @a-maid-with-sunset-in-her-hair further examine the three attempts to forge Lightbringer.

Dragonstone was grim beyond a doubt, a lonely citadel in the wet waste surrounded by storm and salt, with the smoking shadow of the mountain at its back. - Prologue, ASOS

When the red star bleeds and the darkness gathers, Azor Ahai shall be born again amidst smoke and salt to wake dragons out of stone. - Davos III, ASOS

"A sword plucked from fire, yes. Men tell me things, it is my pleasant smile. How shall a burnt sword serve Stannis?"

"A burning sword," corrected Davos.

"Burnt," said Salladhor Saan, "and be glad of that, my friend. Do you know the tale of the forging of Lightbringer? I shall tell it to you. It was a time when darkness lay heavy on the world. To oppose it, the hero must have a hero's blade, oh, like none that had ever been. And so for thirty days and thirty nights Azor Ahai labored sleepless in the temple, forging a blade in the sacred fires. Heat and hammer and fold, heat and hammer and fold, oh, yes, until the sword was done. Yet when he plunged it into water to temper the steel it burst asunder.

"Being a hero, it was not for him to shrug and go in search of excellent grapes such as these, so again he began. The second time it took him fifty days and fifty nights, and this sword seemed even finer than the first. Azor Ahai captured a lion, to temper the blade by plunging it through the beast's red heart, but once more the steel shattered and split. Great was his woe and great was his sorrow then, for he knew what he must do.

"A hundred days and a hundred nights he labored on the third blade, and as it glowed white-hot in the sacred fires, he summoned his wife. 'Nissa Nissa,' he said to her, for that was her name, 'bare your breast, and know that I love you best of all that is in this world.' She did this thing, why I cannot say, and Azor Ahai thrust the smoking sword through her living heart. It is said that her cry of anguish and ecstasy left a crack across the face of the moon, but her blood and her soul and her strength and her courage all went into the steel. Such is the tale of the forging of Lightbringer, the Red Sword of Heroes. - Davos I, ACOK

"He told me the moon was an egg, Khaleesi," the Lysene girl said. "Once there were two moons in the sky, but one wandered too close to the sun and cracked from the heat. A thousand thousand dragons poured forth, and drank the fire of the sun. That is why dragons breathe flame. One day the other moon will kiss the sun too, and then it will crack and the dragons will return." - Daenerys III, AGOT

A true sword of fire, now, that would be a wonder to behold. Yet at such a cost . . . When he thought of Nissa Nissa, it was his own Marya he pictured, a good-natured plump woman with sagging breasts and a kindly smile, the best woman in the world. He tried to picture himself driving a sword through her, and shuddered. I am not made of the stuff of heroes, he decided. If that was the price of a magic sword, it was more than he cared to pay. - Davos I, ACOK

"They are mine," she said fiercely. They had been born from her faith and her need, given life by the deaths of her husband and unborn son and the maegi Mirri Maz Duur. Dany had walked into the flames as they came forth, and they had drunk milk from her swollen breasts. "No man will take them from me while I live." - Daenerys I, ACOK

When your dragons were small they were a wonder. Grown, they are death and devastation, a flaming sword above the world." - Daenerys III, ADWD

& @a-maid-with-sunset-in-her-hair's thoughts here.

+.+.+

Moses wanders the red desert with her people, and daydreams of mountaintops.

@aegor-bamfsteel provides some necessary background into this Moses fellow.

For more great biblical references, I suggest reading the comments of Daenerys I, ACOK.

Dany looked at the horizon with despair. They had lost a third of their number, and still the waste stretched before them, bleak and red and endless. The comet mocks my hopes, she thought, lifting her eyes to where it scored the sky. Have I crossed half the world and seen the birth of dragons only to die with them in this hard hot desert? She would not believe it. - Daenerys I, ACOK

If I had wings, I would want to fly too, Dany thought. The Targaryens of old had ridden upon dragonback when they went to war. She tried to imagine what it would feel like, to straddle a dragon's neck and soar high into the air. It would be like standing on a mountaintop, only better. The whole world would be spread out below. - Daenerys I, ACOK

+.+.+

The author abandons all subtlety.

Yet even as her dragons prospered, her khalasar withered and died. - Daenerys I, ACOK

+.+.+

Amusing language used to describe a hostile party burning down a small village in Arya IV, ACOK.

She saw a roof go up, flames licking at the belly of the night with hot orange tongues as the thatch caught.

[...]

Over the roar of the flames, she could hear shouts.

[...]

One carried a banner on a tall lance. She thought it was red, but it was hard to tell in the night, with the fires roaring all around. Everything seemed red or black or orange.

[...]

Every time Arya looked up, more torches were flying, trailing long tongues of flame that lingered behind her eyes.

[...]

The fire beat at her back with hot red wings as she fled the burning barn.

[...]

Smoke was pouring out the open door like a writhing black snake, and she could hear the screams of the poor animals inside, donkeys and horses and men.

[...]

A dozen feet down the tunnel she heard the sound, like the roar of some monstrous beast, and a cloud of hot smoke and black dust came billowing up behind her, smelling of hell. - Arya IV, ACOK

+.+.+

Robert died, and snakes slid forth from his belly. Prepare to be bathed in fire.

When the boar did open him, a great stench rose to heaven and a thousand snakes slid forth from his belly, hissing and biting!" He jabbed his bony finger back at comet and castle. "There comes the Harbinger! Cleanse yourselves, the gods cry out, lest ye be cleansed! Bathe in the wine of righteousness, or you shall be bathed in fire! Fire!" - Tyrion V, ACOK

+.+.+

A beautiful paradise turns to ash in a heartbeat.

The Dothraki sacked cities and plundered kingdoms, they did not rule them. Dany had no wish to reduce King's Landing to a blackened ruin full of unquiet ghosts. She had supped enough on tears. I want to make my kingdom beautiful, to fill it with fat men and pretty maids and laughing children. I want my people to smile when they see me ride by, the way Viserys said they smiled for my father.

But before she could do that she must conquer.

[...]

How could she hope to overthrow such men? When Khal Drogo had lived, men trembled and made him gifts to stay his wrath. If they did not, he took their cities, wealth and wives and all. But his khalasar had been vast, while hers was meager. Her people had followed her across the red waste as she chased her comet, and would follow her across the poison water too, but they would not be enough. Even her dragons might not be enough. Viserys had believed that the realm would rise for its rightful king . . . but Viserys had been a fool, and fools believe in foolish things.

Her doubts made her shiver. Suddenly the water felt cold to her, and the little fish prickling at her skin annoying. - Daenerys II, ACOK

+.+.+

Dragons plant no trees.

Part of her would have liked nothing more than to lead her people back to Vaes Tolorro, and make the dead city bloom. No, that is defeat. I have something Viserys never had. I have the dragons. The dragons are all the difference. - Daenerys III, ACOK

+.+.+

Previously doubting the existence of hired knives, Daenerys now appears to be giving into the paranoia. The same thing that made Viserys go mad, she says.

Yet even crowned, I am a beggar still, Dany thought. I have become the most splendid beggar in the world, but a beggar all the same. She hated it, as her brother must have. All those years of running from city to city one step ahead of the Usurper's knives, pleading for help from archons and princes and magisters, buying our food with flattery. He must have known how they mocked him. Small wonder he turned so angry and bitter. In the end it had driven him mad. It will do the same to me if I let it. - Daenerys III, ACOK

They had wandered since then, from Braavos to Myr, from Myr to Tyrosh, and on to Qohor and Volantis and Lys, never staying long in any one place. Her brother would not allow it. The Usurper's hired knives were close behind them, he insisted, though Dany had never seen one. - Daenerys I, AGOT

+.+.+

Where do we begin with Daenerys IV, ACOK? Otherwise known as the House of the Undying chapter.

Friends, I can't possibly summarize that chapter here without copying and pasting the entire thing, so instead let me direct you to three reviews, and give you a preview.

@ladyofasoiaf's HotU analysis

@ladyqueenofwinter's HotU analysis

@istumpysk's HotU analysis

Who wants to be Bran's foil? Not me!

Scatology metaphors, aka Daenerys is a piece of shit.

Daenerys heads left, because she could never be right.

Drogon has a lot to say about someone being king of the ashes.

The prince that was promised and the lies we tell ourselves.

Sexual expression fires in King's Landing.

It's okay to laugh if you meet someone who believes the 'mounts to ride' are men she'll bed.

All things treason.

The bride of fire burns her husband, and selects her next lover.

Come look at all the dead Targaryens, and ignore the larger implication.

Azor Ahai and the lies we tell ourselves.

Smell the Greyjoy.

Drogon won't let mommy have her moment with the slaves.

Cold, dead things have bad intentions.

Beating in unison with a corrupt heart is good, actually.

There's rats in the walls!

Look! The words howl, knife, and dance. Rip.

+.+.+

Randyll Tarly doesn't bend. Let's see how much father and daughter have in common.

"Aerys accused them of treason and summoned their fathers to court to answer the charge, with the sons as hostages. When they came, he had them murdered without trial. Fathers and sons both." - Catelyn VII, ACOK

Varys gave him a simpering smile. "You would win, my lord. Lord Alester was indeed the first to bend the knee. Many others followed."

"Many," Tyrion said pointedly, "but not all?"

"Not all," agreed the eunuch. "Not Loras Tyrell, nor Randyll Tarly, nor Mathis Rowan. - Tyrion VIII, ACOK

+.+.+

The funniest parallel ever created.

"My uncle's the one who will need mercy, but I won't give him any." Joffrey drew his sword. The pommel was a ruby cut in the shape of a heart, set between a lion's jaws. Three fullers were deeply incised in the blade. "My new blade, Hearteater." - Sansa V, ACOK

I am the blood of the dragon, she told herself as she took the stallion's heart in both hands, lifted it to her mouth, and plunged her teeth into the tough, stringy flesh. - Daenerys V, AGOT

+.+.+

Amusing language used to describe an attack on King's Landing. Thanks to @dontbipanicjonsa for the good eyes.

Across the sea warhorns boomed, deep throaty moans like the calls of monstrous serpents, repeated ship to ship. - Davos III, ACOK

Wooden wings had sprouted from the Wraith and Lady Marya as well. - Davos III, ACOK

Glowering down from Aegon's High Hill, the Red Keep commanded the approaches. Its iron-crowned battlements, massive towers, and thick red walls gave it the aspect of a ferocious beast hunched above river and streets. - Davos III, ACOK

A flight of flickering orange birds took wing from the castle, twenty or thirty of them; pots of burning pitch, arcing out over the river trailing threads of flame. - Davos III, ACOK

Ahead, the first line was within bowshot of the enemy; flights of arrows flew between the ships, hissing like striking snakes. - Davos III, ACOK

Swordfish and the hulk were gone, blackened bodies were floating downstream beside him, and choking men clinging to bits of smoking wood. Fifty feet high, a swirling demon of green flame danced upon the river. - Davos III, ACOK

Davos saw green gushing from a thousand broken jars, poison from the entrails of a dying beast, glistening, shining, spreading across the surface of the river - Davos III, ACOK

The low clouds caught the color of the burning river and roofed the sky in shades of shifting green, eerily beautiful. A terrible beauty. Like dragonfire. Tyrion wondered if Aegon the Conqueror had felt like this as he flew above his Field of Fire. - Tyrion XIII, ACOK

A groaning filled the air, like the death cries of some enormous beast. - Tyrion XIV, ACOK

+.+.+

That doesn't sound good.

Well, perhaps it was time. The people of her khalasar had welcomed the chance to recover from the ravages of the red waste, but now that they were plump and rested once again, they began to grow unruly. Dothraki were not accustomed to staying long in one place. They were a warrior people, not made for cities. - Daenerys V, ACOK

+.+.+

What's happening here? We're going to keep our eye on this one.

The throne rejects Joffrey the Hearteater, dressed like a Targaryen, and sounding a lot like one as well.

King Joffrey sat above them all, amongst the blades and barbs of the Iron Throne. He was in crimson samite, his black mantle studded with rubies, on his head his heavy golden crown.

[...]

A monster sits the Iron Throne, an abomination born of incest!"

"Be silent," Ser Kevan Lannister bellowed.

The knight raised his voice instead. "Joffrey is the black worm eating the heart of the realm! Darkness was his father, and death his mother! Destroy him before he corrupts you all! Destroy them all, queen whore and king worm, vile dwarf and whispering spider, the false flowers. Save yourselves!" One of the gold cloaks knocked the man off his feet, but he continued to shout. "The scouring fire will come! King Stannis will return!"

Joffrey lurched to his feet. "I'm king! Kill him! Kill him now! I command it." He chopped down with his hand, a furious, angry gesture . . . and screeched in pain when his arm brushed against one of the sharp metal fangs that surrounded him. The bright crimson samite of his sleeve turned a darker shade of red as his blood soaked through it. "Mother!" he wailed. - Sansa VIII, ACOK

"This Iron Throne you speak of sounds monstrous cold and hard. I cannot bear the thought of jagged barbs cutting your sweet skin." - Daenerys II, ACOK

She lifted her head. "And I am Daenerys Stormborn, Daenerys of House Targaryen, of the blood of Aegon the Conqueror and Maegor the Cruel and old Valyria before them. I am the dragon's daughter, and I swear to you, these men will die screaming. Now bring me to Khal Drogo." - Daenerys IX, AGOT

At the end of the war council, Maegor remained behind alone in the throne room to brood. He was found dead the next morning by Queen Elinor, seated on the Iron Throne with his robes covered in blood and his wrists slashed. A spike from one of the swords on the throne behind him was impaled through the back of his neck. How Maegor died was never discovered. Some say he had been killed by Queen Elinor, others that he had been killed by a knight of his own Kingsguard. Yet others say he had been killed by a builder who escaped the slaughter three years earlier and desired revenge, and many believe that Maegor had been killed by the throne itself. Others believe that Maegor killed himself by opening his wrists on the blades of the Iron Throne. - ASoIaF wiki

"Have you ever seen the Iron Throne? The barbs along the back, the ribbons of twisted steel, the jagged ends of swords and knives all tangled up and melted? It is not a comfortable seat, ser. Aerys cut himself so often men took to calling him King Scab, and Maegor the Cruel was murdered in that chair. - Davos IV, ASOS

They say the Iron Throne can be perilous cruel to those who were not meant to sit it. - Sansa VIII, ACOK

+.+.+

Devastating chapter transition for Team Daenerys. Burn it all, followed by a walk through the ruins of King's Landing.

"Save me the Freys," the Bastard was shouting as the flames roared upward, "and burn the rest. Burn it, burn it all." - Theon VI, ACOK

He found himself outside the city, walking through a world without color. Ravens soared through a grey sky on wide black wings, while carrion crows rose from their feasts in furious clouds wherever he set his steps. White maggots burrowed through black corruption. The wolves were grey, and so were the silent sisters; together they stripped the flesh from the fallen. There were corpses strewn all over the tourney fields. The sun was a hot white penny, shining down upon the grey river as it rushed around the charred bones of sunken ships. From the pyres of the dead rose black columns of smoke and white-hot ashes. My work, thought Tyrion Lannister. They died at my command. - Tyrion XV, ACOK

+.+.+

A direwolf tours a burnt castle, and spots a dragon made of smoke.

The ashes fell like a soft grey snow.

[...]

The smoke and ash clouded his eyes, and in the sky he saw a great winged snake whose roar was a river of flame. He bared his teeth, but then the snake was gone. – Bran VII

+.+.+

A DAGGER IN THE FLESH: STARK vs. TARG

The princess of dragonstone dreams of dragons killing her. Thank you, @shieldofrohan.

"The princess would see the white raven." Ever correct, Pylos called her princess now, as her lord father was a king.

[...]

"I had bad dreams," Shireen told him. "About the dragons. They were coming to eat me." - Prologue, ACOK

+.+.+

The shadows are dancing.

"The shadows come to dance, my lord, dance my lord, dance my lord," he sang, hopping from one foot to the other and back again. - Prologue, ACOK

+.+.+

Sounds familiar.

They were all looking at her, even the three chained and manacled in the back of the wagon. The fat one snapped his pointy teeth together and hissed, but Arya ignored him. - Arya I, ACOK

The black dragon hissed, smoke seeping out between his sharp teeth. - Daenerys IV, ACOK

+.+.+

Sounds familiar 2.0.

"You scream now. You scream loud."

I won't, Arya thought stubbornly, but when Yoren laid the wood against the back of her bare thighs, the shriek burst out of her anyway. - Arya I, ACOK

"You will not hear me scream," Mirri responded as the oil dripped from her hair and soaked her clothing.

"I will," Dany said

[...]

The fires swept over Mirri Maz Duur. Her song grew louder, shriller … then she gasped, again and again, and her song became a shuddering wail, thin and high and full of agony. - Daenerys X, AGOT

+.+.+

The Rabbitkiller.

Arya was given a whole leg, since it was her rabbit. She shared it with Gendry. The rest of them each got a spoonful, even the three in manacles. Jaqen H'ghar thanked her politely for the treat, and Biter licked the grease off his dirty fingers with a blissful look, but Rorge, the noseless one, only laughed and said, "There's a hunter now. Lumpyface Lumpyhead Rabbitkiller." - Arya III, ACOK

The queen of the rabbits must not be wed without her floppy ears. - Daenerys VI, ADWD

+.+.+

Is somebody in King's Landing when Daenerys goes boom? Arya IV.

+.+.+

Steel in place of kisses.

The white horse and the black one wheeled like lovers at a harvest dance, the riders throwing steel in place of kisses. - Catelyn II, ACOK

+.+.+

An entire fandom forgets how to read.

Dany smiled. "Perhaps it's the camels you're smelling. The Qartheen themselves seem sweet enough to my nose."

"Sweet smells are sometimes used to cover foul ones." - Daenerys II, ACOK

A foul, sweet smell rose from the wound, so thick it almost choked her. - Daenerys VIII, AGOT

A blue flower grew from a chink in a wall of ice, and filled the air with sweetness. . . . - Daenerys IV, ACOK

+.+.+

The Usurper's Dogs.

They said Robert Baratheon was strong as a bull and fearless in battle, a man who loved nothing better than war. And with him stood the great lords her brother had named the Usurper's dogs, cold-eyed Eddard Stark with his frozen heart, and the golden Lannisters, father and son, so rich, so powerful, so treacherous. - Daenerys II, ACOK

"Ned Stark a traitor?" Ser Jorah snorted. "Not bloody likely. The Long Summer will come again before that one would besmirch his precious honor."

"What honor could he have?" Dany said. "He was a traitor to his true king, as were these Lannisters." It pleased her to hear that the Usurper's dogs were fighting amongst themselves, though she was unsurprised. - Daenerys II, ACOK

+.+.+

Rhaegal has needle(s).

"Then I grieve for you, Dragonmother, and for bleeding Westeros, bereft of its rightful king."

Beneath Dany's gentle fingers, green Rhaegal stared at the stranger with eyes of molten gold. When his mouth opened, his teeth gleamed like black needles. - Daenerys II, ACOK

+.+.+

Bad news Daenerys: Jon Snow, Sansa Stark, Arya Stark, and Bran Stark are all dead.

"No," he admitted. "There is more of Rhaegar in you, I think, but even Rhaegar could be slain. Robert proved that on the Trident, with no more than a warhammer. Even dragons can die."

"Dragons die." She stood on her toes to kiss him lightly on an unshaven cheek. "But so do dragonslayers." - Daenerys II, ACOK

+.+.+

Tastes like death.

"Your head's as wooden as your teeth," Hake told him. "There's no smell to cold."

There is, thought Jon, remembering the night in the Lord Commander's chambers. It smells like death. - Jon IV, ACOK

The light of the half-moon turned Val's honey-blond hair a pale silver and left her cheeks as white as snow. She took a deep breath. "The air tastes sweet."

"My tongue is too numb to tell. All I can taste is cold." - Jon VIII, ADWD

+.+.+

Daenerys is denied after visiting the Keeper of the Long List, the Opener of the Door, and the Hall of a Thousand Thrones. Beautiful, @agentrouka-blog.

Descendants of the ancient kings and queens of Qarth, the Pureborn commanded the Civic Guard and the fleet of ornate galleys that ruled the straits between the seas. Daenerys Targaryen had wanted that fleet, or part of it, and some of their soldiers as well. She made the traditional sacrifice in the Temple of Memory, offered the traditional bribe to the Keeper of the Long List, sent the traditional persimmon to the Opener of the Door, and finally received the traditional blue silk slippers summoning her to the Hall of a Thousand Thrones. - Daenerys III, ACOK

+.+.+

Suppose you did send an assassin.

"Suppose a Sorrowful Man came to my palace one night and killed you as you slept," said Xaro. The Sorrowful Men were an ancient sacred guild of assassins, so named because they always whispered, "I am so sorry," to their victims before they killed them. - Daenerys III, ACOK

Ned bowed, and turned on his heel without another word. He could feel Robert's eyes on his back. As he strode from the council chambers, the discussion resumed with scarcely a pause. "On Braavos there is a society called the Faceless Men," Grand Maester Pycelle offered.

"Do you have any idea how costly they are?" Littlefinger complained. - Eddard III, AGOT

+.+.+

Something will cut it.

"This Iron Throne you speak of sounds monstrous cold and hard. I cannot bear the thought of jagged barbs cutting your sweet skin." - Daenerys III, ACOK

+.+.+

Mean Rhaegal.

Rhaegal hissed and dug sharp black claws into her bare shoulder as Dany stretched out a hand for the wine. Wincing, she shifted him to her other shoulder, where he could claw her gown instead of her skin. - Daenerys III, ACOK

She stroked Rhaegal. The green dragon closed his teeth around the meat of her hand and nipped hard. - Daenerys III, ACOK

+.+.+

Near the trident, we spot a storm of fire arrows hissing, and dancing.

The Mallister bowmen sent a storm of fire arrows hissing across the river, strangely beautiful from afar. One man, pierced through a dozen times, his clothes afire, danced and whirled in the knee-deep water until at last he fell and was swept downstream. By the time his body came bobbing past Riverrun, the fires and his life had both been extinguished. - Catelyn VI, ACOK

+.+.+

Dragons vs. Weirwood.

She took a step forward. But then Drogon leapt from her shoulder. He flew to the top of the ebony-and-weirwood door, perched there, and began to bite at the carved wood. - Daenerys IV, ACOK

+.+.+

Careful in there. Thank you, @ladyqueenofwinter.

When they reached the door—a tall oval mouth, set in a wall fashioned in the likeness of a human face—the smallest dwarf Dany had ever seen was waiting on the threshold. - Daenerys IV, ACOK

And the seventh face . . . the Stranger was neither male nor female, yet both, ever the outcast, the wanderer from far places, less and more than human, unknown and unknowable. Here the face was a black oval, a shadow with stars for eyes. It made Catelyn uneasy. She would get scant comfort there. - Catelyn IV ACOK

+.+.+

Howling, he drew a knife and danced towards her.

When she spilled out into the sun, the bright light made her stumble. Pyat Pree was gibbering in some unknown tongue and hopping from one foot to the other.

[...]

Howling curses, Pyat Pree drew a knife and danced toward her, but Drogon flew at his face. - Daenerys IV, ACOK

+.+.+

A cold, steel kiss.

Ebben drew his dagger. "A steel kiss will keep her quiet."

Jon's throat was raw. He looked at them all helplessly. "She yielded herself to me."

[...]

He touched the edge of the blade to mark where the blow must fall, and Ygritte shivered. "That's cold," she said. - Jon VI, ACOK

"Kiss her?" Ser Barristan repeated, aghast.

"A steel kiss," said Littlefinger. - Eddard VIII, AGOT

+.+.+

An dragon eagle attacks Ghost.

Then a sudden gust of cold made his fur stand up, and the air thrilled to the sound of wings. As he lifted his eyes to the ice-white mountain heights above, a shadow plummeted out of the sky. A shrill scream split the air. He glimpsed blue-grey pinions spread wide, shutting out the sun . . . - Jon VII, ACOK

Thrice that day she caught sight of Drogon. Once he was so far off that he might have been an eagle, slipping in and out of distant clouds, but Dany knew the look of him by now, even when he was no more than a speck. - Daenerys X, ADWD

+.+.+

The best chapter transition of all time.

A Qartheen stepped into her path. "Mother of Dragons, for you." He knelt and thrust a jewel box into her face. Dany took it almost by reflex. The box was carved wood, its mother-of-pearl lid inlaid with jasper and chalcedony. "You are too generous." She opened it. Within was a glittering green scarab carved from onyx and emerald. Beautiful, she thought. This will help pay for our passage. As she reached inside the box, the man said, "I am so sorry," but she hardly heard. The scarab unfolded with a hiss. Dany caught a glimpse of a malign black face, almost human, and an arched tail dripping venom . . . and then the box flew from her hand in pieces, turning end over end. Sudden pain twisted her fingers. As she cried out and clutched her hand, the brass merchant let out a shriek, a woman screamed, and suddenly the Qartheen were shouting and pushing each other aside. Ser Jorah slammed past her, and Dany stumbled to one knee. [...] Dany snapped her hand to shake the sting from her fingers. "It was the other one, the Qartheen." When she looked around he was gone. "He was a Sorrowful Man. There was a manticore in that jewel box he gave me. This man knocked it out of my hand."

- Daenerys V, ACOK -> Arya X, ACOK

He'd left his dagger on the table as well, so she took that too, just in case Gendry lost his courage.

[...]

Arya took out the dagger and sharpened it to keep her hands busy. Long smooth strokes, the way Syrio had taught her. The sound calmed her.

[...]

She walked fast, to keep ahead of her fear, and it felt as though Syrio Forel walked beside her, and Yoren, and Jaqen H'ghar, and Jon Snow. She had not taken the sword Gendry had brought her, not yet. For this the dagger would be better.

[...]

"Silver, you say?" He did not believe her, but he wanted to; silver was silver, after all. "Give it over, then." Her fingers dug down beneath her tunic and came out clutching the coin Jaqen had given her. In the dark the iron could pass for tarnished silver. She held it out . . . and let it slip through her fingers. Cursing her softly, the man went to a knee to grope for the coin in the dirt, and there was his neck right in front of her. Arya slid her dagger out and drew it across his throat, as smooth as summer silk. His blood covered her hands in a hot gush and he tried to shout but there was blood in his mouth as well. "Valar morghulis," she whispered as he died. - Arya X, ACOK

+.+.+

Thank you @magiclovingdragon for pointing out this is probably a Melisandre reference. Still, in the interest of being fair, when Jon kills and the word ruby shows up, I have to include it.

Even when Ghost's teeth closed savagely around the ranger's calf, somehow Qhorin kept his feet. But in that instant, as he twisted, the opening was there. Jon planted and pivoted. The ranger was leaning away, and for an instant it seemed that Jon's slash had not touched him. Then a string of red tears appeared across the big man's throat, bright as a ruby necklace, and the blood gushed out of him, and Qhorin Halfhand fell. - Jon VIII, ACOK

+.+.+

Summer doesn't like that dragon.

The smoke and ash clouded his eyes, and in the sky he saw a great winged snake whose roar was a river of flame. He bared his teeth, but then the snake was gone. - Bran VII, ACOK

+.+.+

The trees will endure. They always have.

The air was sweeter under the trees. A few pines along the edge of the wood had been scorched, but deeper in the damp soil and green wood had defeated the flames. "There is a power in living wood," said Jojen Reed, almost as if he knew what Bran was thinking, "a power strong as fire." - Bran VII, ACOK

+.+.+

STORM x STORM 🦑🖤🐉

Parallels that make us laugh: fire & blood edition.

Once I would have kept her as a salt wife in truth, he thought to himself as he slid his fingers through her tangled hair. Once. When we still kept the Old Way, lived by the axe instead of the pick, taking what we would, be it wealth, women, or glory. In those days, the ironborn did not work mines; that was labor for the captives brought back from the hostings, and so too the sorry business of farming and tending goats and sheep. War was an ironman's proper trade. The Drowned God had made them to reave and rape, to carve out kingdoms and write their names in fire and blood and song. - Theon I, ACOK

+.+.+

Euron -> bodies locked together in lust, writhing and rolling and clawing -> Daenerys.

She threw up her hands. "And where we end. Esgred is yours, sweet prince. Take me to your castle. Let me see your proud towers rising from the sea." - Theon II, ACOK

Then the towers by the sea, crumbling as the dark tide came sweeping over them, rising from the depths. Shadows in the shape of skulls, skulls that turned to mist, bodies locked together in lust, writhing and rolling and clawing. Through curtains of fire great winged shadows wheeled against a hard blue sky. - Melisandre I, ADWD

+.+.+

A perfect complement to a Dothraki army.

Most of the islanders were indifferent riders at best, more comfortable on the deck of a longship than in the saddle. - Theon II, ACOK

+.+.+

Parallels that make us laugh: uncle & aunt edition.

In the islands it was scarce unheard of for a strong, ambitious uncle to dispossess a weak nephew of his rights, and usually murder him in the bargain. - Theon II, ACOK

+.+.+

Parallels that make us laugh: Silence & Drogon edition.

"Euron Croweye has no lack of cunning, though. I've heard men say terrible things of that one."

Theon shifted his seat. "My uncle Euron has not been seen in the islands for close on two years. He may be dead." If so, it might be for the best. Lord Balon's eldest brother had never given up the Old Way, even for a day. His Silence, with its black sails and dark red hull, was infamous in every port from Ibben to Asshai, it was said. - Theon II, ACOK

His scales were black, his eyes and horns and spinal plates blood red. Ever the largest of her three, in the wild Drogon had grown larger still. His wings stretched twenty feet from tip to tip, black as jet. He flapped them once as he swept back above the sands, and the sound was like a clap of thunder. The boar raised his head, snorting … and flame engulfed him, black fire shot with red. - Daenerys IX, ADWD

+.+.+

Parallels that make us laugh: pilfering, pillaging, and plundering edition.

The rest of his men were looting the corpses. Gevin Harlaw knelt on a dead man's chest, sawing off his finger to get at a ring. Paying the iron price. My lord father would approve. Theon thought of seeking out the bodies of the two men he'd slain himself to see if they had any jewelry worth the taking, but the notion left a bitter taste in his mouth. - Theon III, ADWD

+.+.+

Amethyst Empress.

Dany's tight silver collar was chafing against her throat. She unfastened it and flung it aside. The collar was set with an enchanted amethyst that Xaro swore would ward her against all poisons. - Daenerys III, ACOK

+.+.+

Daenerys Targaryen spends a whole chapter whining about ships. Be like the rest of the fandom, and pretend like you don't see where this is going.

Xaro Xhoan Daxos is a man of gold, she thought, and gold will buy me all the ships and swords I need. - Daenerys III, ACOK

"Give me ships, and I will make you rich again." - Daenerys III, ACOK

"Nothing," she said, wishing she was as certain as she sounded. "If each of the Thirteen would lend me ten ships—" - Daenerys III, ACOK

"Yes," Dany said. "But it was ships and soldiers I wanted." - Daenerys III, ACOK

Asshai, Dany thought. She would have me go to Asshai. "Will the Asshai'i give me an army?" she demanded. "Will there be gold for me in Asshai? Will there be ships? - Daenerys III, ACOK

"He is rich," she said. "Not so rich as Xaro, perhaps, but rich enough to hire ships for me, and men as well." - Daenerys III, ACOK

+.+.+

Victarion Greyjoy to the rescue? (Yes.)

A cloth dragon swayed on poles amidst a cheering crowd. - Daenerys IV, ACOK

It was well known that the cheapest place to buy a slave was right off the ship, and the banners floating from her masts proclaimed that the Sunblaze had just arrived from Astapor on Slaver's Bay. - Daenerys V, ACOK

+.+.+

Would be unfortunate if the Greyjoys were to keep showing up in your big prophetic chapter.

A corpse stood at the prow of a ship, eyes bright in his dead face, grey lips smiling sadly. - Daenerys IV, ACOK

+.+.+

Parallels that make us laugh: soulmates travel the same road edition.

"Take and drink," urged Pyat Pree.

"Will it turn my lips blue?"

"One flute will serve only to unstop your ears and dissolve the caul from off your eyes, so that you may hear and see the truths that will be laid before you."

Dany raised the glass to her lips. The first sip tasted like ink and spoiled meat, foul, but when she swallowed it seemed to come to life within her. She could feel tendrils spreading through her chest, like fingers of fire coiling around her heart, and on her tongue was a taste like honey and anise and cream, like mother's milk and Drogo's seed, like red meat and hot blood and molten gold. It was all the tastes she had ever known, and none of them . . . and then the glass was empty. - Daenerys IV, ACOK

The captain took the cup Euron had not offered, sniffed at its contents suspiciously. Seen up close, it looked more blue than black. It was thick and oily, with a smell like rotted flesh. He tried a small swallow, and spit it out at once. "Foul stuff. Do you mean to poison me?"

"I mean to open your eyes." Euron drank deep from his own cup, and smiled. "Shade-of-the-evening, the wine of the warlocks. I came upon a cask of it when I captured a certain galleas out of Qarth, along with some cloves and nutmeg, forty bolts of green silk, and four warlocks who told a curious tale. - The Reaver, AFFC

+.+.+

Parallels that make us laugh: Dothraki lingo edition.

You are blood of my blood, Theon, whatever else you may be. - Theon V, ACOK

+.+.+

Lessons she'll forget.

"Blue lips speak only lies, isn't that what Xaro told you? - Daenerys V, ACOK

A smile played across Euron's blue lips. "I am the storm, my lord. The first storm, and the last. I have taken the Silence on longer voyages than this, and ones far more hazardous. Have you forgotten? I have sailed the Smoking Sea and seen Valyria." - The Reaver, AFC

+.+.+

Totally normal to randomly insert this into a Greyjoy chapter.

The crows came in the blue dusk, with the evening stars. "The Dothraki believe the stars are spirits of the valiant dead," Theon said. Maester Luwin had told him that, a long time ago.

"Dothraki?"

"The horselords across the narrow sea."

"Oh. Them." Black Lorren frowned through his beard. "Savages believe all manner of foolish things." - Theon VI, ACOK

+.+.+

GREATEST UNSOLVED MYSTERIES, THE FOSTERING OF SWEETROBIN

George R. R. Martin thinks he's smarter than me. George R. R. Martin thinks he can fool me. George R. R. Martin thinks that if he starts teasing the possibility of highborn girls being sent to the Eyrie, that I'll lose the scent.

George R. R. Martin is wrong. This will not deter me.

"Be that as it may, my lord," Maester Cressen said gently. "Great wrongs have been done you, but the past is dust. The future may yet be won if you join with the Starks. There are others you might sound out as well. What of Lady Arryn? If the queen murdered her husband, surely she will want justice for him. She has a young son, Jon Arryn's heir. If you were to betroth Shireen to him—"

"The boy is weak and sickly," Lord Stannis objected. "Even his father saw how it was, when he asked me to foster him on Dragonstone. Service as a page might have done him good, but that damnable Lannister woman had Lord Arryn poisoned before it could be done, and now Lysa hides him in the Eyrie. She'll never part with the boy, I promise you that."

"Then you must send Shireen to the Eyrie," the maester urged. "Dragonstone is a grim home for a child. Let her fool go with her, so she will have a familiar face about her." – Prologue, ACOK

+.+.+

He had the pleasure of seeing a look of genuine surprise in Petyr Baelish's grey-green eyes. "Myrcella?"

"When she comes of age, she can wed little Lord Robert. Until such time, she'll be Lady Lysa's ward at the Eyrie." - Tyrion IV, ACOK

+.+.+

JONSA 🐺❤️❄️

The dragon's heir. Not a new discovery, but full credit to @butterflies-dragons for a legendary find.

"Glory to your betrothed," Ser Arys answered at once. "See how it flames across the sky today on His Grace's name day, as if the gods themselves had raised a banner in his honor. The smallfolk have named it King Joffrey's Comet."

Doubtless that was what they told Joffrey; Sansa was not so sure. "I've heard servants calling it the Dragon's Tail."

"King Joffrey sits where Aegon the Dragon once sat, in the castle built by his son," Ser Arys said. "He is the dragon's heir—and crimson is the color of House Lannister, another sign. This comet is sent to herald Joffrey's ascent to the throne, I have no doubt. It means that he will triumph over his enemies." - Sansa I, ACOK

+.+.+

Those snowy knights Sansa loves so much.

The white cloak of the Kingsguard was draped over his broad shoulders and fastened with a jeweled brooch, the snowy cloth looking somehow unnatural against his brown roughspun tunic and studded leather jerkin. - Sansa I, ACOK

Ser Meryn entered from the west side of the yard, clad in gleaming white plate chased with gold and mounted on a milk-white charger with a flowing grey mane. His cloak streamed behind him like a field of snow. He carried a twelve-foot lance. - Sansa I, ACOK

What was the name of that bastard he fathered?"

Catelyn took a step backward. "Brienne."

"No, that wasn't it." Jaime Lannister upended the flagon. A trickle ran down onto his face, bright as blood. "Snow, that was the one. Such a white name . . . like the pretty cloaks they give us in the Kingsguard when we swear our pretty oaths." - Catelyn VII, ACOK

+.+.+

The Starks are assigned a statue in Davos I, ACOK.

The Maiden lay athwart the Warrior, her arms widespread as if to embrace him. - Davos I, ACOK

She was a maiden now, three-and-ten and flowered. All her nights were full of song, and by day she prayed for silence. - Sansa I, AFFC

The Warrior was Renly and Stannis, Robb and Robert, Jaime Lannister and Jon Snow.

I thought that I was the Warrior and Cersei was the Maid, but all the time she was the Stranger, hiding her true face from my gaze. - Jaime IV, AFFC

At the Warrior's altar, he used one candle to light another. Watch over my brother, you bloody bastard, he's one of yours. - Tyrion X, ACOK

+.+.+

Jon rides past the white roses.

As he rode past a lightning-blasted chestnut tree overgrown with wild white roses, he heard something rustling in the underbrush. - Jon III, ACOK

"At the Hand's tourney, don't you remember? You rode a white courser, and your armor was a hundred different kinds of flowers. You gave me a rose. A red rose. You threw white roses to the other girls that day." It made her flush to speak of it. "You said no victory was half as beautiful as me."

[...]

He doesn't remember, Sansa realized, startled. He is only being kind to me, he doesn't remember me or the rose or any of it. She had been so certain that it meant something, that it meant everything. A red rose, not a white. - Sansa I, ASOS

+.+.+

Succession Things Part I (Spot the Stealth Jonsa):

The Story of Lady Hornwood.

Many claimants contending for the Hornwood lands. Bran suggests making the bastard the heir.

Maester Luwin answered. "With no direct heir, there are sure to be many claimants contending for the Hornwood lands. The Tallharts, Flints, and Karstarks all have ties to House Hornwood through the female line, and the Glovers are fostering Lord Harys's bastard at Deepwood Motte. The Dreadfort has no claim that I know, but the lands adjoin, and Roose Bolton is not one to overlook such a chance."

[...]

"Then let Lord Hornwood's bastard be the heir," Bran said, thinking of his half brother Jon.

Ser Rodrik said, "That would please the Glovers, and perhaps Lord Hornwood's shade as well, but I do not think Lady Hornwood would love us. The boy is not of her blood."

[...]

"Your notion about the bastard may have merit, Bran," Maester Luwin said after. "One day you will be a good lord for Winterfell, I think." - Bran II, ACOK

///

Perhaps Beren Tallhart could take his uncle's name? He is half Hornwood after all.

Maester Luwin liked him better, though. "Beren Tallhart may well be our best answer," he told them when Leobald had gone. "By blood he is half Hornwood. If he takes his uncle's name . . ." - Bran II, ACOK

///

Let's let Robb decide who marries Lady Hornwood. He might want to secure an alliance in the riverlands.

"It may come down to practicalities," said Maester Luwin. "Which lord he most needs to court. The riverlands are part of his realm, he may wish to cement the alliance by wedding Lady Hornwood to one of the lords of the Trident. A Blackwood, perhaps, or a Frey—" - Bran II, ACOK

Lord Tywin's look was scornful. "Send her to Riverrun and her mother will match her with a Blackwood or a Mallister to shore up her son's alliances along the Trident. Send her north, and she will be wed to some Manderly or Umber before the moon turns. Yet she is no less dangerous here at court, as this business with the Tyrells should prove. She must marry a Lannister, and soon." - Tyrion III, ASOS

///

Uh oh. Lady Hornwood is captured and forced to marry a Bolton. Her cousin, Lord Manderly, who previously expressed a desire to marry her, takes over the castle to protect the Hornwood castle.

The old knight was off east, trying to set to rights the trouble there. Roose Bolton's bastard had started it by seizing Lady Hornwood as she returned from the harvest feast, marrying her that very night even though he was young enough to be her son. Then Lord Manderly had taken her castle. To protect the Hornwood holdings from the Boltons, he had written, but Ser Rodrik had been almost as angry with him as with the bastard. - Bran IV ACOK

///

Is Lady Hornwood married or not? The northern lords differ in opinion.

"The monster has tied us a thorny knot," the old knight told Maester Luwin. "Like it or no, Lady Hornwood was his wife. He made her say the vows before both septon and heart tree, and bedded her that very night before witnesses. She signed a will naming him as heir and fixed her seal to it."

"Vows made at sword point are not valid," the maester argued. - Bran V, ACOK

+.+.+

Succession Things Part II (Spot the Stealth Jonsa):

A problem with only one solution -> Catelyn's worst fears make another appearance.

Catelyn read the letter again after the maester was gone. "Lord Meadows says nothing of Robert's bastard," she confided to Brienne. "I suppose he yielded the boy with the rest, though I confess, I do not understand why Stannis wanted him so badly."

"Perhaps he fears the boy's claim."

"A bastard's claim? No, it's something else . . . what does this child look like?" - Catelyn VI, ACOK

Benjen Stark was a Sworn Brother. Jon would be a son to him, the child he would never have. And in time the boy would take the oath as well. He would father no sons who might someday contest with Catelyn's own grandchildren for Winterfell. - Catelyn II, AGOT

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Succession Things Part III (Spot the Stealth Jonsa):

The queen's cousin is set to marry, so he might claim some lands.

Lady Ermesande a babe seated on her wet nurse's lap. The talk was she would soon be wed to one of the queen's cousins, so the Lannisters might claim her lands. - Sansa I, ACOK

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Succession Things Part IV (Spot the Stealth Jonsa):

The Lannisters want to take land away from a bastard cousin.

A more significant lordship by far was granted to Ser Lancel Lannister. Joffrey awarded him the lands, castle, and rights of House Darry, whose last child lord had perished during the fighting in the riverlands, "leaving no trueborn heirs of lawful Darry blood, but only a bastard cousin." - Sansa VIII, ACOK

+.+.+

Pleasant thoughts, happy memories.

So there is magic beyond the Wall after all. He found himself thinking of his sisters, perhaps because he'd dreamed of them last night. Sansa would call this an enchantment, and tears would fill her eyes at the wonder of it, but Arya would run out laughing and shouting, wanting to touch it all. - Jon III, ACOK

"I don't even know your name."

"Gilly, he called me. For the gillyflower."

"That's pretty." He remembered Sansa telling him once that he should say that whenever a lady told him her name. - Jon III, ACOK

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Jon and Sansa share something in common. Good job, @minitafan.

Jon spitted the carcass, banked the fire with a pair of rocks, and balanced their meal atop them. The rabbit had been a scrawny thing, but as it cooked it smelled like a king’s feast. - Jon III, ACOK

And when the meat course was brought out, he served her himself, slicing a queen's portion from the joint, smiling as he laid it on her plate. - Sansa II, AGOT

+.+.+

A stretch to suggest this is jonsa. We're including it because it made me laugh.

The Old Bear was particular about his hot spiced wine. So much cinnamon and so much nutmeg and so much honey, not a drop more. Raisins and nuts and dried berries, but no lemon, that was the rankest sort of southron heresy - Jon IV, ACOK

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Sisters talking to the dead. Good eye, @fedonciadale.

The women in grey bowed their heads. The silent sisters do not speak to the living, Catelyn remembered dully, but some say they can talk to the dead. - Catelyn V, ACOK

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The Blood of Winterfell.

"Then you must do what needs be done," Qhorin Halfhand said. "You are the blood of Winterfell and a man of the Night's Watch." - Jon VI, ACOK

I am Sansa Stark, Lord Eddard's daughter and Lady Catelyn's, the blood of Winterfell. - Sansa I, AFFC

+.+.+

Children of the mountain. Great find from @butterflies-dragons.

"The mountain is your mother," Stonesnake had told him during an easier climb a few days past. "Cling to her, press your face up against her teats, and she won't drop you." Jon had made a joke of it, saying how he'd always wondered who his mother was, but never thought to find her in the Frostfangs. - Jon VI, AFFC

Men come and go. They lie, or die, or leave you. A mountain is not a man, though, and a stone is a mountain's daughter. I trust my father, and I trust my mules. I won't fall." - Alayne II, AFFC

+.+.+

One more step you two.

One step and then another, Jon told himself. One step and then another, and I will not fall.

[…]

One step and then another, he resumed when the gale subsided. One step and then another, and I will not fall.

[…]

One step and then another, he thought, clinging tight. - Jon VI, ACOK

One more step, she told herself, one more step. She had to keep moving. If she stopped, she would never start again, and dawn would find her still clinging to the cliff, frozen in fear. One more step, and one more step. - Sansa V, ASOS

+.+.+

Is Jon Snow about to bed his kin?

"She even claimed we were kin. She told me a story . . ." - Jon VII, ACOK

+.+.+

King Mance, the Night's Watch deserter, likes a good wildling song and the odd wildling woman.

Why did he desert?

"She even claimed we were kin. She told me a story . . ."

". . . of Bael the Bard and the rose of Winterfell. So Stonesnake told me. It happens I know the song. Mance would sing it of old, when he came back from a ranging. He had a passion for wildling music. Aye, and for their women as well."

"You knew him?"

"We all knew him." His voice was sad.

They were friends as well as brothers, Jon realized, and now they are sworn foes. "Why did he desert?"

"For a wench, some say. For a crown, others would have it." - Jon VII, ACOK

+.+.+

Pleasant thoughts, happy memories 2.0.

It made Jon remember cold nights long ago at Winterfell, when he'd shared a bed with his brothers. - Jon VI, ACOK

For a moment she did not remember where she was. She had dreamt that she was little, still sharing a bedchamber with her sister Arya. - Sansa VII, ASOS

+.+.+

A Girl In Grey.

"You may sleep here tonight. I'll give you some of my own men as a guard, some Stone Crows perhaps—"

"No," Sansa blurted out, aghast. If she was locked in the Tower of the Hand, guarded by the dwarf's men, how would Ser Dontos ever spirit her away to freedom?

"Would you prefer Black Ears? I'll give you Chella if a woman would make you more at ease."

"Please, no, my lord, the wildlings frighten me."

He grinned. "Me as well. But more to the point, they frighten Joffrey and that nest of sly vipers and lickspittle dogs he calls a Kingsguard. With Chella or Timett by your side, no one would dare offer you harm." - Sansa III, ACOK

"I never knew a wolf to run up a streambed for miles," said Reek. "A man might. If he knew he was being hunted, he might. But a wolf?" - Theon IV, ACOK

"I saw water. Deep and blue and still, with a thin coat of ice just forming on it. It seemed to go on and on forever."

"Long Lake. What else did you see around this girl?"

"Hills. Fields. Trees. A deer, once. Stones. She is staying well away from villages. When she can she rides along the bed of little streams, to throw hunters off her trail." - Melisandre I, ADWD

"The others return with me. You wouldn't want your own sweet sister to brave the dangers of the wood without an escort, would you? There are direwolves prowling the dark."

- Theon V -> Sansa V

+.+.+

Prince Aemon keeps following Sansa around the story.

"Father, I only just now remembered, I can't go away, I'm to marry Prince Joffrey." She tried to smile bravely for him. "I love him, Father, I truly truly do, I love him as much as Queen Naerys loved Prince Aemon the Dragonknight, as much as Jonquil loved Ser Florian. I want to be his queen and have his babies."

"Sweet one," her father said gently, "listen to me. When you're old enough, I will make you a match with a high lord who's worthy of you, someone brave and gentle and strong. This match with Joffrey was a terrible mistake. That boy is no Prince Aemon, you must believe me." - Sansa III, AGOT

Jon VI (ch. 51) <- Sansa IV (ch. 52) -> Jon VII (ch. 53)

She called for the heroes from the songs, for Florian and Ser Ryam Redwyne and Prince Aemon the Dragonknight, but no one heard. - Sansa IV, ACOK

"No doubt you're right. So why don't you just eat your broth like a good girl and wait for Symeon Star-Eyes and Prince Aemon the Dragonknight to come rescue you, sweetling. I'm sure it won't be very long now." - Sansa V, ACOK

He sang of Jonquil and Florian, of Prince Aemon the Dragonknight and his love for his brother's queen, of Nymeria's ten thousand ships. - Sansa VI, ACOK

They were not little boys when they fought, but knights and mighty heroes. "I'm Prince Aemon the Dragonknight," Jon would call out - Jon XII, ASOS

+.+.+

Everyone wants to get their hands on a Winter Rose.

Daenerys IV -> Tyrion XI -> Theon IV -> Jon VI -> Sansa IV

A blue flower grew from a chink in a wall of ice, and filled the air with sweetness - Daenerys IV, ACOK

Tyrion had only the vaguest memory of Theon Greyjoy from his time with the Starks. A callow youth, always smiling, skilled with a bow; it was hard to imagine him as Lord of Winterfell. The Lord of Winterfell would always be a Stark.

He remembered their godswood; the tall sentinels armored in their grey-green needles, the great oaks, the hawthorn and ash and soldier pines, and at the center the heart tree standing like some pale giant frozen in time. He could almost smell the place, earthy and brooding, the smell of centuries, and he remembered how dark the wood had been even by day. That wood was Winterfell. It was the north. I never felt so out of place as I did when I walked there, so much an unwelcome intruder. He wondered if the Greyjoys would feel it too. The castle might well be theirs, but never that godswood. Not in a year, or ten, or fifty. - Tyrion XI, ACOK

His father thought only in terms of conquest, but what good was it to take a kingdom if you could not hold it? Force and fear could carry you only so far. A pity Ned Stark had taken his daughters south; elsewise Theon could have tightened his grip on Winterfell by marrying one of them. Sansa was a pretty little thing too, and by now likely even ripe for bedding. But she was a thousand leagues away, in the clutches of the Lannisters. A shame. - Theon IV, ACOK

'All I ask is a flower,' Bael answered, 'the fairest flower that blooms in the gardens o' Winterfell.'"

Now as it happened the winter roses had only then come into bloom, and no flower is so rare nor precious. So the Stark sent to his glass gardens and commanded that the most beautiful o' the winter roses be plucked for the singer's payment. And so it was done. But when morning come, the singer had vanished . . . and so had Lord Brandon's maiden daughter. - Jon IV, ACOK

"The blood is the seal of your womanhood. Lady Catelyn might have prepared you. You've had your first flowering, no more." - Sansa IV

"Do you require guarding?" Marillion said lightly. "I am composing a new song, you should know. A song so sweet and sad it will melt even your frozen heart. 'The Roadside Rose,' I mean to call it. About a baseborn girl so beautiful she bewitched every man who laid eyes upon her."

I am a Stark of Winterfell, she longed to tell him. - Sansa VII, ASOS

+.+.+

Dancy with the blue flowers.

The freckled one wore a chain of blue flowers in her honeyed hair. - Tyrion III, ACOK

Tyrion had no doubt that Dancy would be a lively handful. She was pug-nosed and bouncy, with freckles and a mane of thick red hair that tumbled down past her waist. - Tyrion VII, ACOK

"OH, SWEET SHE WAS, AND PURE, AND FAIR! THE MAID WITH HONEY IN HER HAIR!"

"You will love Highgarden as I do, I know it." Margaery brushed back a loose strand of Sansa's hair. - Sansa I, ASOS

+.+.+

Uncomfortable foreshadowing appears.

He dreamt an old dream, of three knights in white cloaks, and a tower long fallen, and Lyanna in her bed of blood. - Eddard X, AGOT

When she threw back the blanket and saw the blood, all she could think was that her dream had somehow come true.

[…]

Then she remembered the bedclothes. She rushed back to the bed and stared in horror at the dark red stain and the tale it told. - Sansa IV, ACOK

"So now you are a woman. Do you have the least idea of what that means?"

"It means that I am now fit to be wedded and bedded," said Sansa, "and to bear children for the king." - Sansa IV, ACOK

"Different how?"

"I don't know. Less . . . less messy, and more magical."

Queen Cersei laughed. "Wait until you birth a child, Sansa. A woman's life is nine parts mess to one part magic, you'll learn that soon enough . . . - Sansa IV, ACOK

The slim, sad girl who wore a crown of pale blue roses and a white gown spattered with gore could only be Lyanna

- Theon V, ACOK -> Sansa V, ACOK

"You look pale, Sansa," Cersei observed. "Is your red flower still blooming?"

"Yes."

"How apt. The men will bleed out there, and you in here." The queen signaled for the first course to be served. - Sansa V, ACOK

She knew the hymn; her mother had taught it to her once, a long time ago in Winterfell. She joined her voice to theirs.

Gentle Mother, font of mercy - Sansa V, ACOK

+.+.+

Men are off at war, while women fight a different battle.

Ned had lingered scarcely a fortnight with his new bride before he too had ridden off to war with promises on his lips. - Catelyn X, AGOT

Rubies flew like drops of blood from the chest of a dying prince, and he sank to his knees in the water and with his last breath murmured a woman's name. . . . - Daenerys IV, ACOK

"His Grace was not with you?"

"Robert? Robert was hunting. That was his custom. Whenever my time was near, my royal husband would flee to the trees with his huntsmen and hounds. When he returned he would present me with some pelts or a stag's head, and I would present him with a baby. - Sansa IV, ACOK

Men come and go. They lie, or die, or leave you. - Alayne II, AFFC

The guests laughed, but it was a joyless laughter, the sort of laughter that can turn into sobbing in half a heartbeat. Their bodies are here, but their thoughts are on the city walls, and their hearts as well. - Sansa VI, ACOK

Brienne looked at her with those blue and beautiful eyes. "As ladies die in childbed. No one sings songs about them."

"Children are a battle of a different sort." Catelyn started across the yard. - Catelyn VI, ACOK

Cersei observed. "Is your red flower still blooming?"

"Yes."

"How apt. The men will bleed out there, and you in here." The queen signaled for the first course to be served. - Sansa V, ACOK

Oof.

Hell of a observation, @foggylandpieneck.

+.+.+

Jon Snow and Sandor Clegane get the foil treatment in back-to-back chapters.

On the ground the sleeper sat up beneath his furs. Jon slid his dirk free, grabbing the man by the hair and jamming the point of the knife up under his chin as he reached for his—no, her—

His hand froze. "A girl." - Jon VI, ACOK

"Just as if I was one of those true knights you love so well, yes. What do you think a knight is for, girl? You think it's all taking favors from ladies and looking fine in gold plate? Knights are for killing." He laid the edge of his longsword against her neck, just under her ear. Sansa could feel the sharpness of the steel. - Sansa IV, ACOK

///

Even so, he did not think of the foes who were waiting for him, all unknowing, but of his brother at Winterfell. Bran used to love to climb. I wish I had a tenth part of his courage. - Jon VI, ACOK

"The little bird thinks she has wings, does she? Or do you mean to end up crippled like that brother of yours?" - Sansa IV, ACOK

///

Jon lowered his sword. "Go," he muttered.

Ygritte stared.

"Now," he said, "before my wits return. Go."

She went. - Jon VI, ACOK

Sansa backed away from him. "You're awful."

"I'm honest. It's the world that's awful. Now fly away, little bird, I'm sick of you peeping at me."

Wordless, she fled. - Sansa IV, ACOK

+.+.+

Sansa sings a song.

She sang for mercy, for the living and the dead alike, for Bran and Rickon and Robb, for her sister Arya and her bastard brother Jon Snow, away off on the Wall. - Sansa V, ACOK

+.+.+

Sandor doesn't get his song.

"I'll have that song. Florian and Jonquil, you said." His dagger was out, poised at her throat. "Sing, little bird. Sing for your little life." Her throat was dry and tight with fear, and every song she had ever known had fled from her mind. - Sansa VII, ACOK

She smiled again, a flash of white teeth. "And she never sung you the song o' the winter rose?"

"I never knew my mother. Or any such song." - Jon VI, ACOK

+.+.+

Jon hears the songs of fierce birds. Amazing, @minitafan.

Please don't kill me, she wanted to scream, please don't. She could feel him twisting the point, pushing it into her throat, and she almost closed her eyes again, but then she remembered. It was not the song of Florian and Jonquil, but it was a song. Her voice sounded small and thin and tremulous in her ears.

Gentle Mother, font of mercy - Sansa VII, ACOK

Yet still the drums beat on, the trebuchets shuddered and thumped, and the sound of skinpipes came wafting through the night like the songs of strange fierce birds. Septon Cellador began to sing as well, his voice tremulous and thick with wine.

Gentle Mother, font of mercy - Jon VIII, ASOS

+.+.+

A snowy cloak stained by fire and blood.

When she crawled out of bed, long moments later, she was alone. She found his cloak on the floor, twisted up tight, the white wool stained by blood and fire. The sky outside was darker by then, with only a few pale green ghosts dancing against the stars. A chill wind was blowing, banging the shutters. Sansa was cold. She shook out the torn cloak and huddled beneath it on the floor, shivering. - Sansa VII, ACOK

+.+.+

Last words.

Sansa backed away from the window, retreating toward the safety of her bed. I'll go to sleep, she told herself, and when I wake it will be a new day, and the sky will be blue again. The fighting will be done and someone will tell me whether I'm to live or die. "Lady," she whimpered softly, wondering if she would meet her wolf again when she was dead. - Sansa VII, ACOK

Jon fell to his knees. He found the dagger's hilt and wrenched it free. In the cold night air the wound was smoking. "Ghost," he whispered. - Jon XIII, ADWD

+.+.+

Kissed by fire, first used to describe a blade. Nice catch, @ladyqueenofwinter.

Tyrion lifted his axe and shouted, "King's Landing!" Other voices took up the cry, and now the arrowhead flew, a long scream of steel and silk, pounding hooves and sharp blades kissed by fire. - Tyrion XIV, ACOK

He'd owned a sword named Lion's Tooth once, Sansa remembered. Arya had taken it from him and thrown it in a river. I hope Stannis does the same with this one. "It is beautifully wrought, Your Grace."

"Bless my steel with a kiss." He extended the blade down to her. "Go on, kiss it." - Sansa V, ACOK

+.+.+

Not a nephew or a bastard, but a trueborn son set to marry a princess.

He liked to boast how he was the son of the Lord of the Crossing, not a nephew or a bastard or a grandson but a trueborn son, and on account of that he was going to marry a princess.

- Arya X, ACOK -> Sansa VIII, ACOK

+.+.+

Shy maids on their wedding night.

The moon was rising behind one mountain and the sun sinking behind another as Jon struck sparks from flint and dagger, until finally a wisp of smoke appeared. Qhorin came and stood over him as the first flame rose up flickering from the shavings of bark and dead dry pine needles. "As shy as a maid on her wedding night," the big ranger said in a soft voice, "and near as fair. Sometimes a man forgets how pretty a fire can be."

He was not a man you'd expect to speak of maids and wedding nights. So far as Jon knew, Qhorin had spent his whole life in the Watch. Did he ever love a maid or have a wedding? He could not ask. Instead he fanned the fire. When the blaze was all acrackle, he peeled off his stiff gloves to warm his hands, and sighed, wondering if ever a kiss had felt as good. The warmth spread through his fingers like melting butter. - Jon VIII, ACOK

Her hands trembled as she began fumbling at her clothes. She had ten thumbs instead of fingers, and all of them were broken. Yet somehow she managed the laces and buttons, and her cloak and gown and girdle and undersilk slid to the floor, until finally she was stepping out of her smallclothes. Gooseprickles covered her arms and legs. She kept her eyes on the floor, too shy to look at him, but when she was done she glanced up and found him staring. - Sansa III, ASOS

+.+.+

CHAPTER TRANSITIONS

Touch me.

+.+.+

#operation stumpy re-read #foreshadowing smorgasbord #acok summary #jonsa #sansa stark #jon snow #ship girl #bran stark #rickon stark #storm x storm #stark vs. targ #anti daenerys

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rocorambles · 4 years ago

Text

Trapped

Pairing: Sakusa x Reader

Prompt: Fantasy

Genre/Warnings: Yandere, Toxic Relationship, NSFW, Fantasy AU, Sorcerer Sakusa, Rape/Non-Con, Mind Control, Manipulation, Obsessive and Posessive Behavior, Degradation

Summary: You should have trusted your gut instincts, the lessons you had learned the hard way about just how cruel powerful men could be.

Author’s Note: This is my contribution for my HQ Discord Server’s NSFW collaboration. There are so many talented writers on the server and I highly encourage you to check out the collaboration masterlist here to see how everyone decided to run with this prompt. (Masterlist goes live Friday, October 30th 11:00pm U.K. time!)

You splutter awake, laughing, but also groaning as a wet tongue slobbers all over your face and you lightly shove the fox that’s currently standing beside your resting head, intent on waking you up to play. Blearily you blink your eyes, trying to gauge what time it is based on the light seeping into the cave you’ve come to call your home. Judging by the bright rays of sunlight, it’s already mid-morning and you stretch your arms above your head, petting your furry companion behind its ears before standing up and treading out into the forest, your friend walking right beside you, its tail brushing against your leg.

The familiar peace and quiet of the wind rustling past branches and the faint chirping of birds wafts through the air and you smile as you continue making your way to the nearby waterfall, various four-legged animals that have come to be your family and friends popping their heads out of grassy patches and from behind trees in greeting. You can’t even remember the last time you’d seen another human being and you grimace at the thought of your last encounter.

Orphans, especially female orphans like you, rarely survive for long and you bitterly remember the years of being a street urchin, never knowing when your next bite of food would come, never knowing who to trust in a world full of both humans and magical creatures who’d do horrible things to an unclaimed child and you shiver at the thought of possibly being eaten or harvested for ingredients for countless dark magic spells. But life had only gotten harder the older you became and as a single, vulnerable woman, you began to attract a different attention, no longer able to blend as seamlessly as you once had with predatory eyes trailing after you, resting too long on parts of your body that you desperately wanted to hide from the world.

You tried sticking it out, finding ad hoc jobs here and there as a maid, as a seamstress, as a waitress. But corruption ran deep wherever you went and disgust makes you recoil when you remember all the times you’d been cornered by all types of men and creatures, received unwanted touches in hidden corners and degrading remarks of what your only purpose in life was. And after being left to sob, pain lancing between your legs, your clothes ripped to shreds, knowing no one would ever take your side, knowing that this would just continue happening over and over again, you vowed to never have anything to do with another sentient being ever again.

You’d heard rumors of the forest, about its enchantment, about the stories of terrible things hiding away in its heart, but you couldn’t imagine any monster worse than the ones you’ve already encountered and you determinedly march forward, never turning back to look at the city you’re leaving behind. And as you step past the border of trees, even you, someone who’s never had anything to do with magic, can feel the surge of power, feel the crackling energy as you delve deeper and deeper. But maybe the forest could sense that you meant it no harm, maybe it knew that you were just a lonely, helpless soul, maybe it felt generous, felt pity for the damaged woman seeking refuge. Whatever the case was, it left you alone and in all the years you’d made a home in its lush vegetation, not once had you met any of the ghastly creatures you’d heard so many horror stories of. And maybe that’s why you let your guard down when you meet him, finding a false security in the wood and grass-filled world you now live in.

You don’t bother being quiet or stealthy as you walk. Why would you when there’s never been anyone else around? So imagine your shock when black human eyes are staring at you as you round the corner and reach the water’s edge and panic laces through you when you see how masculine and strong he looks, overwhelming fear making you tremble when you take in the staff you see laying next to him.

A sorcerer.

You’d learned the hard way that men were never to be trusted and that men with power and wealth were the ones to be even more wary of. Fortunately you’d only dealt with vile wealthy men and as awful as they had been, you know men gifted with an affinity for magic make those nobles seem as harmless as kittens in comparison. You’d seen firsthand the havoc sorcerors could wreak, seen the charred, mutilated, disfigured bodies put on display at the city gates as an example of the fate for anyone who rebels against the crown. To your knowledge, all sorcerors worked for the royal family, rarely leaving the walled fortress unless sent on a mission or task, but never in a place like this so-called cursed forest. So what was he doing here?

The urge to flee thrums through your veins, but when he makes no move to stand or get any closer to you, curiosity gets the better of you and you stay rooted to your spot and before you can stop yourself, you find yourself asking the first question that comes to mind.

“Who are you?”

When Sakusa had ventured outside of the castle walls for a break from the irritating humans inside the cramped corridors and bustling courtrooms, he had purposefully chosen a place where no other soul would be. His hand had immediately wrapped around his staff as the sound of approaching rustling interrupted his thoughts, but when you had made your presence known, he could only stare in awe, staff forgotten as he took you in.

You’re different from the usual noble women he sees on a daily basis. For one, you’re barely wearing anything, a makeshift dress of strung together leaves, flowers, and grass the only thing covering you and he can feel his face grow hot as he tries not to blatantly stare at your bare legs and arms. But as he really regards you, he can’t help but feel something wild, something primal in you and he blinks in shock when he realizes that you have the same energy as the forest, as if the forest has claimed you as one of its own and he’s so entranced by his realization that he’s startled by the sound of your voice.

From anyone else, he would have scowled at the forwardness and bluntness of the question, but for some reason, coming from you, he finds himself easily answering.

“Sakusa Kiyoomi”

People, conversations, human interaction. Those are all things Sakusa abhors and yet, as you tentatively draw closer to him, staring at him in wide eyed curiosity while the two of you exchange words, he thinks he doesn’t mind any of those things when you’re involved. He comes to visit you as often as he can, something warm blooming inside of him as he sees your hackles relax, notices how you inch closer and closer to him every time he arrives, and he can’t help but compare you to a wild animal and behind the warmth in his chest, something darker lurks, and he wonders what it would be like to tame you, claim you back from the wooded forest that had taken you in, mark you as his own.

And that thought festers and grows inside of him.

He does his best to keep it at bay, play it off as just a fleeting idea, but when your eyes and body begin to seep into his dreams, into his every waking thought, he can’t keep the desire down any longer and when he strides towards you once more, he drops to one knee in front of you, asking for your hand in marriage.

In hindsight it probably was foolish to think that you were as smitten with him, foolish to think that someone who had been scarred enough to escape from civilization would easily just return to the place full of painful memories, and yet red hot anger blazes through him when you turn him down. It doesn’t matter how sweet and kind you are about it, gently letting him down and telling him you’re sure he’d find someone much better suited to being his wife, someone prim and proper, someone educated and knowledgeable of court intricacies.

Humiliation only fuels his rage as he rises back to his feet and he can feel his magic churning, waiting to be used, dancing at his fingertips, and he has half a mind to forcefully drag you back with him, but he retracts it, pushes it down deep inside of him as he takes a deep breath. No, he wants you to come back and grovel at his feet, beg him to take you in, to help you. He wants you to feel the same need for him that he feels for you and he bites his tongue and restrains himself as his mind begins to plan and strategize.

He tries to remain as normal as possible, still going to visit you as often as before, but his nails dig into the palm of his hands at the pity in your eyes and he clenches his teeth at the way that you tread around him like he’s a wounded animal. But he takes those feelings and lets them drive him late through the night as he chants strange words, flips through old scrolls, experiments with different spells and ingredients and a rare smile stretches across his face when the pieces finally come together.

It’s time to take set his plan in motion and in the middle of the night while most of the city is fast asleep, there’s a strange flashing light, a rush of something sinister in the air, and the murmurs of masculine chanting swirling in the air, lingering, and foreshadowing the dark days ahead. But you remain asleep, peacefully ignorant of the shift in the atmosphere, naive to just how much your life will change.

You wake up, surprised by the lack of a warm furry body or tongue lapping at your face, and you vaguely wonder if you’d woken up in the middle of the night, but the sunlight filtering through tells you a different story. You feel strange, warning bells beginning to faintly clamor in your head, and you gingerly step outside of your lair only to freeze at the dead silence surrounding you. It’s always quiet and calm in the forest, but where there is usually the sound of nature and creatures, now there is only a deathly silence and you stare in horror as the forest seems to decay right in front of your eyes. What used to be green grass is wilting and brown. The trees you’d spent years climbing and picking fruit from are completely bare. But what makes a choked sob get caught in your throat is the corpses of the animals who’d you come to be so fond of littered around you and your slow stuttered amble becomes a frenzied run, as you race through your dying home, hoping to see any sign of life left.

But days pass and the state of your home only gets worse. Your throat is parched without clean water to drink, all the water sources near you murky and littered with fish corpses indicating just how toxic they’ve become. Your stomach aches with hunger, no vegetation, fruits, or animals nearby for you to ingest. And a deep loneliness churns inside of you and once again you feel as alone as you did when you were just a dirty street urchin trying to scrape together a living off the streets.

So when Sakusa comes for his regular visit and finds your weakened body slumped on the floor of your cave, it just makes sense to you, survival instincts kicking in, to drag yourself over to his feet, fling your arms around him when he finally bends down, and sob into his chest. You don’t question the way he’s slow to crouch down to your level and comfort you. You don’t see the cruel smile on his face when he sees you pathetically laying at his feet. You don’t notice the glee in his eyes as you beg him to take you with him. And when he asks you if you’d like to come and be his assistant, you eagerly nod your head and cling tighter to him, burying your face in his comforting and familiar presence as he teleports the two of you back to his living quarters.

Months pass and despite your initial wariness of returning to live among other beings, you find that Sakusa seems to dislike being around others just as much as you, and the two of you find a comfortable way of life mostly holed up in his living quarters with only the other as company. You’d never really been exposed or taught anything about magic growing up, so you’re genuinely fascinated as you watch Sakusa chant, attentively listening as he tells you what each ingredient is, eagerly following his every step as he shows you firsthand how to mix different potions. And Sakusa thinks that your aptitude for learning, the perfect synchronization the two of you have as you seamlessly work your way into his rhythm, preparing and setting things up before he even needs to tell you, speaks volumes of just how perfect the two of you are together, speaks volumes of how you were meant to be together.

He continues strategizing, gaining your trust, letting you grow accustomed to his presence, smiling at the way you don’t even bat an eye when his hands linger on yours a bit longer than normal when he hands you something, at the way you don’t tense up anymore when he presses his body against you from behind as he physically guides and shows you how to do something. And he knows he’s on the right track when you take the initiative to swipe a strand of his hair behind his ear as he concentrates on a task at hand, when you perch your chin on his shoulder, peeking over his shoulder as he jots down notes.

But even the greatest minds make mistakes and when he sends you off to find a certain piece of text for him from the bookshelf in the corner of his room, he forgets to clarify where on the shelf to look and not wanting to bother him, you meticulously comb through every book, forehead scrunching in curiosity when you find a notebook tucked behind, as if it was meant to be hidden. You consider just passing it over, not wanting to intrude on Sakusa’s privacy, but having gone through most of the books and not finding what you need, you wonder if perhaps the thing he’s looking for is in here and that this had just been misplaced or accidentally pushed towards the back of the shelf.

As you flip through the pages you quickly realize this is a book of Sakusa’s own spells and you stare in awe at how much work he’d done, how extensive his own self-created spell repertoire is, but suddenly your heart freezes when you flip to the last few filled pages. You’re not as fluent as Sakusa is when it comes to the ancient magical language, but you know enough after the time you’ve spent with him, the lessons he’s taught you, to recognize ‘plague’ and ‘forest’ and your throat and heart feel both heavy and panicked when you realize the implication of what you’d found. And suddenly you remember the day he had proposed to you vividly, ice cold shock and realization making you shudder when you remember a flash of something dark in his eyes when you had rejected him. And your hands tremble when you see the very last page, taking note of the phrase ‘mind control’. But before you can dwell on it, you squeal in surprise when the book is plucked from your hands and you’re rooted to the spot by dark eyes pinning you down.

You want to scream angry words at him. You want to escape. And yet, you do neither, frozen with fear when you remember exactly what happened to the victims who’d defied sorcerers.

“Hmm. This spell’s not quite ready yet, but I guess we can test it out early.”

And before you can even register what’s happening, a firm hand is placed on the top of your head, the other wrapped around your throat to keep you still as magic surges through the air and you vaguely hear yourself pleading for him to stop, until suddenly you feel trapped in your own body, the connection between your conscience and physical figure severed and you stare in horror as your body goes limp and docile in his arms.

Sakusa peers into your eyes in interest, humming in thought as he scrawls a few more notes in his notebook.

“The end goal of this spell is for me to be able to completely control your mind, but right now it looks like I only have control of the section that handles your physical functions if that ugly hate-filled look in your eyes is any indication. But let’s test my theory shall we?”

And it feels like a bad dream as your body submissively makes its way to his bed, seductively swaying your hips as you sprawl out on his bedsheets, eagerly wrapping your arms around the back of his neck as he joins you, bringing him down for a kiss. He’s rough and invasive as he tears your clothes off, calloused hands touching and contaminating every inch of you and you feel disgust as he examines you like you’re a piece of prime meat he’s purchased, coldly and meticulously pinching and prodding you as he observes what makes your body react. And for once, you hate how observant he is, how in tune to your smallest shifts he is, how sensitive your body is as your nipples perk up, as little moans escape past your traitorous lips when he pinpoints your weak spots.

But what you hate most is the triumphant grin on his face when his dexterous fingers swipe against your lower lips and you internally flinch at the glistening slick that coats his fingers when he holds it to your face, evidence of the heavy arousal mixing with your humiliation and hate. And you try to think of anything else, imagine you’re anywhere but here as he begins to wonder out loud while his fingers twist and turn inside of you, reaching and touching places you’d never been able to explore yourself, if he even needs to tweak his spell anymore seeing how you’re a slave to your body’s natural desire for pleasure. Maybe there wasn't a need to completely control your thoughts and emotions as well.

He hadn’t realized what a slut you are, getting off to anyone using your body, and he leers down at you while he continues questioning you, knowing full well you can’t answer or retort to his crude remarks. And he idly wonders if your mind would naturally break without additional magic if he pleasured you enough, transformed you into a warm body that constantly seeks and craves his touch.

The fear in your eyes at his words only fuels his need to completely dominate you and he grits his teeth as he slides into your drenched hole, eyes closing shut as he just stays still and revels in how tight you are, how perfectly you wrap around him. And when he opens his eyes and sees the glassy-eyed lustful look on your face from being filled, he finally releases himself from the controlled facade he so carefully always wears and lets himself dive headfirst into the sultry, dizzying, primal embrace of lust as he pistons his hips in and out of you at a brutal pace, dark eyes never straying from your face as your eyes begin to roll back and your wanton mewls fill the air.

He can feel his end approaching, but he’d be damned if he didn’t make you fall apart with him, drown you in inescapable pleasure, and his hand slips between the two of you, fingers finding your aroused clit and all it takes is a few rubs and thrusts before your body is tensing up, back arching, mouth opening in a silent scream, body convulsing and writhing underneath him, your cunt milking him as you’re forcefully brought to your peak. And he joins you over that edge, thick white spurts coating your twitching walls.

You pray that he’s done, that he’ll release you now that he’s thoroughly tasted and had you, now that you’re just sloppy seconds, used goods. But you’re startled when he lovingly kisses you and tenderly strokes your hair, and your stomach churns at the genuine affection you see in his eyes. And your heart drops, any last bit of hope you had extinguished as he holds your body close to him in a mockery of a loving embrace and whispers in your ear about the future he has planned for both of you, a future where you stay by his side as an obedient, submissive housewife, a future where you’re willing and eager to please him, to love him.

That was always his goal for the both of you, he insists, and a flame of anger burns inside of you at the exasperated and patronizing sigh he directs your way as he blames you for forcing his hands, for forcing him to do this the hard way, for forcing him to resort to magic when you could have saved everyone the hassle by just accepting his proposal all those months ago.

Hate and anger twist and coil inside of you and yet, when he kisses you once more, your body instinctively leans into the soft touch before obediently going lax as he tells you to sleep, eyes automatically closing at the command, and Sakusa smiles at your slumbering figure. It’s not exactly how he had planned to go about this, the mind control spell being more of a back-up option he had been trying to avoid, but you’re finally irrevocably his and that’s all that matters.

#yandere haikyuu #haikyuu yandere #yandere #haikyuu smut #yandere sakusa #sakusa x reader #tw: yandere #tw: rape #tw: noncon

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stagefoureddiediaz · 3 years ago

Note

Kym!! Okay first off, that post is freaking amazing! I'm astounded by your insight and how in depth you went with it and you are truly a gift for it! I can't believe we got all of that. You are phenomenal. Secondly, that picture of Oliver was hilarious, I laughed so hard at it.

Question! You touched on it briefly about how the colour/costume theory that comes into play are talked about in concept and production meetings but I'm curious (if you know) how much of this comes from the writers/directors and what is just decided by the stylists. Take the plaid for example - is that something specifically that the writers/directors would say they want to incorporate as foreshadowing and that they want the actors in it? Or is it much more vague and then the costume department take it and run with it?

Same with like the universe or dinosaur theme. Does something like that come directly from the writers/directors in particular? Or is it more like - give Chris a kids theme and reoccur it constantly through the season? Same with colours - would the costume dept be getting notes that specify 'x' actor is feeling 'y' in this episode or do they simply take that away from the script themselves and colour coordinate accordingly.

I guess I'm just really curious how much of it is specifically discussed and pushed down from writers/directors and how much of it comes from the costume departments analysis themselves.

Sorry for the long ask, if you can't tell I find this so fascinating and have so many questions on the whole process. As always I absolutely love reading anything you have to say, its always so interesting! 🧡🧡

Aww stop it, you're making me blush

🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

But seriously, I'm so pleased you enjoyed reading it and found it useful and that my silly picture of Oliver made you laugh - once i'd typed the words I couldn't get the image out of my head, so I needed to make sure everyone else saw it too😂😂

I had so much fun writing that post - it was nice to step back into that world for a little bit and put my knowledge to good use!

With regards to the second part of your post, it really depends is the answer!!! Not helpful I know, but its the truth because it varies from production to production. Sometimes you'll get producers and writers with very specific ideas about how they want to tell a story, and the characters they've created, other times they'll be pretty loose and let you come up with stuff - they might then veto it because they feel it doesn't work for the character or for the sake of the narrative, but often its because they know their creation better than anyone at the point when these concept and production meetings are taking place but may not be able to articulate it - they just know its wrong for whatever reason - perhaps I as designer haven't understood where they're trying to get to, or perhaps I have but they've been toying with changes they want to make to flesh something out further. It's no different to me as a designer wanting to put a character into a specific colour or outfit purely based on a feeling thats hard to explain exactly why it's speaking to you, but you just know that it tells the story and really sells the character.

Using specific 911 examples; the decision to put Eddie in lots of khaki/ green and tan colours will have come about in one of these production meetings - the writers and producers would possibly have come up with the use of those colours, while I as a costume designer would also have been thinking about the quick and easy character establishing and storytelling of these colours especially because of eddies introduction to the audience ('he's served multiple tours in Afghanistan') so even though the producers may not have said it outright in one of these meetings (they may have only given notes on Eddie as a new character at this point- which would've read something along the lines of;

'Eddie is the new probationary firefighter, introduced to the 118 but Bobby, he's an ex military combat medic, who received a silver star. He has a disabled son - Christopher - who is the most important thing in his world (if the roles had already been cast by this point, they may have specified that Christopher has CP). Eddie is a single father who has moved to LA from El Paso to make a fresh start for himself and his son. He will initially come into conflict with Buck, who feels threatened by Eddies competency...'

As a designer, just that one paragraph of description is enough to give me plenty of ideas - I can pull from it that he's ex military - which makes me think about colour and the way he wears his clothes - he'll always look neat and presentable with clean and shiny shoes etc, his son is the most important thing, - this automatically makes me think about his clothes being functional and not necessarily super fashionable - its all about practicality, not looking good. We also know he's come from El Paso - so we can play on the Texas connection - give him a subtle country/ cowboy vibe through plaid and check patterns. putting him in jeans and giving him boots that hint towards cowboy boots (without actually being cowboy boots!), especially in the beginning - as he settles into LA life, then the cowboy vibe can be toned down as can the military colouring - both things we've seen happen - his colour palette has shifted subtly away from being quite so green and beige and we've seen more block colours, dark blues and reds and creams as well as saying goodbye to the plaid shirts (the last time he was in a plaid shirt was in S3E12 according to my spreadsheet!). So you can see how much you can pull out of a couple of sentences of character description to use as a starting point for Eddies wardrobe, obviously this will then be agreed on and honed in production meetings - the writers may go away and choose to pinpoint specific scenes where they'd like to see him in something specific - such as the red and black shirt he wears when Buck introduces him to Carla - did you know this is a specific type of plaid known as buffalo plaid, it was created in the 1850's by a company called Woolrich woollen mills - based in Pennsylvania and it became synonymous with Americana workwear for cowboys and lumberjacks from then on - a perfect symbol for Eddie at that point - he is Americana - ex military with roots in cowboy country!

When it comes to themes like the plaid theme I've picked up on, thats likely to have come from the costume department and may not have even been intended to start with - having spent far too much time playing spot the plaid shirt during my rewatches (and another shirt theory I have which I promise will be posted in the new year!) I think it was an accident that they've decided to run with once they realised they were doing it - its something that happens more than you'd think!

the dinosaurs and space theming will definitely have come about through collaboration - I think its most likely that the producers and writers went in to the concept meetings and production meetings wanting some sort of theming - initially around the return of Shannon (because I'm pretty sure thats when the first dinosaur appears!) but the decisions to use dinosaurs and space themes would've been developed in those meetings - a fully collaborative process between them and the set and costume designers- they probably tossed loads and loads of ideas around before settling on dinosaurs and space, we see a dinosaur drawing appear in Christophers room when Shannon is introduced in 2x07, but there is also a rocket clock on the wall of Christophers room and its only as seasons 2, 3 and 4 progress that those eagle eyed among us would be able to spot the connection between Shannon (and later Ana) and dinosaurs and the connection between Buck and space and I will say that if we see the space stuff reappearing in 5b then I will bow down to the genius of the set and costume teams (not that I wasn't already!) because means only one thing - that Buddie has been the intended endgame for longer than many think and they've been subtly telling us from the start because that rocket ship clock is like the literal embodiment of a count down to Buddie!!!!

Sorry got a bit sidetracked there!!!

But basically what all of i've talked about amounts to is that the conversations will be ongoing, especially around colour and what a character is thinking or feeling (because they change stuff right up to just before the episode airs!!) but the general arcs, themes and colour stories will have been decided in pre production!

Wow this ended up so long!! Hopefully this has answered your questions, but feel free to ask me more - I always love getting your asks because they're so juicy!! 😁

💜💜💜

#kym answers things #costume questions #costume meta #long post #long answer #got a bit carried away!#911 on fox #911 fox #eddie diaz #911onfox #evan buckley #buck #buddie #eddie #911

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generallybarzy · 4 years ago

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hey there, stranger. viii

one, two, three, four, five, six, seven an: merry christmas to those of you who celebrate!!! I meant to get this out on Christmas eve but I worked until our store closed last night so I literally just finished this right now! chapter nine will be out tomorrow, I just decided to break it into 2 parts, christmas eve and christmas day, so that you could read it without having to wait too long! This chapter and the next are really sweet, with a liiiiiiittle hint of foreshadowing here and there. Hope you enjoy! word count: 2.9k

Christmas approached faster than you expected.

You had made up your mind earlier that Christmas Eve into Christmas morning would be the day you spent in Mat’s bed and finally stayed with him. You couldn’t be more overjoyed that Mat had decided to stay in New York over Christmas. You honestly didn’t know what you would do without him. Every second that you didn’t spend in class or babysitting for the Seidenberg’s- whose children were very interesting in your dating life now- you were with Mat. Out on dates, or just at home with him, resting. Things felt right with him. Almost too right.

It was Christmas Eve, it was chilly and all you wanted was to cuddle under some blankets and watch TV with him, so when you saw him come to the living room with your shoes and jacket in hand, your face dropped.

“We’re not going out, are we?”

He laughed at your instant reaction and nodded. “Just for a bit. But I have an early Christmas gift for you first.” He moved from the hallway to where you were on the couch, stopping by the tree to pick up the biggest of the very few presents you had set there for each other.

“Mat, this better not be something expensive.”

“Well-”

“I thought we agreed to keep our Christmas shopping light?”

“It’s not expensive! It’s not too expensive, I promise.” He handed you the box, wrapped haphazardly in red paper and held together with what looked like a whole roll of tape. You couldn’t help but laugh softly at it again like the first time you saw it.

The first thing you noticed when you stepped into Mat’s apartment was the two boxes under the tree the two of you had put up the other night. After you had agreed to spend Christmas with him, he immediately pulled you out to a tree farm and hauled it up the stairs to his apartment, claiming that you would decorate it so pretty and fill the house with presents. They were wrapped almost grotesque, in a way that you knew Mat had never wrapped a gift before, and you couldn’t help but laugh at them.

“What?” Mat mocked an offended look as you stood in his living room, laughing at his work.

“Have you never wrapped a gift before?”

“Hey, it has character!”

“It sure does have character. You sure you want me to open it and ruin this masterpiece?” You said now, taking the box in your lap. Mat just smiled and nudged you playfully, urging you to open it. You tore apart the paper, your heart soaring at Mat’s eyes watching you gently as you finally opened up the box under the paper. “Oh my God, Mat.” There, settled in the box, was a pair of brand new, clean white skates.

Mat smiled at your reaction. “Sooo, we’re going skating tonight.”

“What? I- I can’t skate?”

“Yeah, I figured.” The smirk on his face lit up a fire deep inside you. “I can teach you. I think it’d be a fun date, yeah?”

As nervous as you were to skate with him, you couldn’t help the smile spread across your face. “So you think a good date idea is me humiliating myself?”

“Yeah!” He laughed. That loud cackle that made your heart glow. “C’mon, get your coat, it’s chilly.”

“Rockefeller?”

“Absolutely.”

The walk from Mat’s apartment to the subway was chilly, but as you snuggled into his side while sitting on the subway train, your arm tucked under his black plaid coat, tight around his hoodie-clad waist, and his arm heavy across your shoulders, you knew there was no where else you’d rather be. He held your hand and laughed as you jumped out the subway doors the second they opened and dashed for the stairs. Mat couldn’t take his eyes off of you as you climbed the stairs back into the city and gazed around, the Christmas lights making your eyes gleam in wonder. It was a type of beauty he hadn’t seen before. A beauty not in physical appearance- even though you had plenty of that- but a beauty in how wonderful you were, how the city lights hit the joy in your eyes, and the way Mat’s heart pounded and his face warmed up when he saw you.

I want you so bad right now.

When the Christmas tree came into view after the short walk, Mat could feel the way your arm tightened around him, squeezing to get his attention. “Mat, look at the tree!” It was cute, almost childlike how excited you were. He chuckled at your outburst, and you punched his side slightly. “Shut up, this is my first Christmas here.”

“No, no, it’s cute.”

What did I do right to be with you right now?

You didn’t see his pink face.

You didn’t feel nervous about falling on your ass and making a fool of yourself, not until you were sitting at the edge of the rink at the Rockefeller Center, with Mat kneeling in front of you and tying your laces. You watched his big hands move skillfully, as if tying skates was second nature to him at this point.

“All done.” He stood with ease, his own skates making him appear so, so much taller than he already was, not even bothered by the fact that he was balancing on blades, but you had a little more trouble, your legs shaking the moment you stood up. “Hey, hey, I got you.” Mat smiled, a little bit, teasingly, his hands finding your waist. “We’re not even on the ice, babe.”

“I don’t think I’m gonna make it.”

He laughed, boisterous and loud. “I promise, you will. Trust me?” His hands found yours and pulled, urging you towards the ice. “I’ll take care of you. I’m good at this.”

Like a fool, you smiled.

“Alright, I trust you.”

Mat’s first step onto the ice was easy, it was habit, like the ice was like a home to him at this point, as if he was even more comfortable gliding over the ice than walking on land. You, on the other hand, were much less graceful. Mat held his hands out to you, and you took them carefully after almost falling immediately after stepping into the rink. “I hope you’re excited to see me fall.”

He smiled. “I’ve never been more excited.”

The first lap around the rink took five long, giggly minutes, Mat’s hands big and warm and holding yours tight, skating ever so gracefully backwards and glancing back to make sure he wasn’t about to run into anyone while also making sure you weren’t about to fall. "C'mon, babe." He smiled as you stumbled for the hundredth time that night.

"Sorry I'm not a professional like you, Mat."

"No, I like you like this. It's cute." You were about to blush, to tell Mat that he was so cheesy and soft, when he continued on. "Cute like… endearing, like how we laugh at a really clumsy deer learning to walk"

"Ouch, Mat!" You couldn't help but laugh as you faked annoyance and smacked his arm lightly. He stopped skating abruptly and let you glide into his chest.

"What? It's the truth, Bambi."

His hand fell to the small of your back, pulling you closer to him and pressing your hips to his. It was nothing but a simple, helpful act to keep you from slipping to the ground, but something in how close you were pressed into his hard body made your tummy flip and turn. Your hands slid up his chest and to his face, cupping his cheeks in your gloved hands and pulling him down to give him a quick peck. For a moment, the rest of the world disappeared. It was just you, Mat, the ice, and the sparkling Christmas Tree towering over you. There was nobody else around. For that second.

“Let’s keep going, Mat.”

He smiled, his cheeks pink and warm from the kiss. “You sure? A few minutes ago you were begging me to get you off.”

“I trust you. Don’t let me fall.”

“Of course not.”

He moved to your side, his arm around your waist, and helped guide you to move your feet, and soon, with his help, you were moving along. Mat couldn’t take his eyes off of you, simple as that. The little concentrated look on your face as you focused on making your feet move the right way looked so adorable. He couldn’t believe he was lucky enough to call you his.

And he didn’t notice the groups of girls with their phone’s camera aimed at you or the whispers they made to their friends.

He pecked your cheek again. “Are you having a nice Christmas Eve?”

“Are you kidding?” You looked up at him, your arm tightening under his jacket, around his hoodie-clad waist subconsciously to steady yourself. “This is amazing. You know what would make it better?”

“What?”

“If it would snow.”

“Hmm.” Mat motioned up to the sky, “Like that?” You turned your face to the sky, where snowflakes had started to come down lightly, sparkling in the lights.

“Oh my god.” You whispered in awe, your cheeks warm.

"All the best things happen softly." Mat repeated your words from a few weeks ago, his voice soft and eyes in awe of your beauty as the snow began to lay, sparkling, in your hair. You turned towards him, cheeks pink and eyes warm, and leaned up to beg for a kiss.

"You're amazing, Mat."

"Not as amazing as you."

"C'mere."

He sunk into your kiss, leaning the two of you against the edge of the rink so that others could skate around you. You smiled against each other's lips, absolutely giddy and chilly and craving your lover's warmth. Mat's hand glided from yours up to the curve of your neck, his chilly fingers dipping under your hair and making you giggle. The way your lips were curving up against his made him giddy, and he mirrored you, and soon you two were nothing but a giggly mess, surrounded by snowflakes and twinkling Christmas lights.

And the rumors you didn’t hear yet.

"Damn." Mat broke away first.

"I'll never get over kissing you, Mat."

"Same here."

"You're a good kisser."

"Not as good as you." He smirked, rubbing his thumb across your bottom lip. "So, I had planned to go window shopping along the avenue, but if you're too cold or your feet hurt, we can just go home and cuddle?"

"Hmm." Your feet did hurt, now that you thought about it, but the idea of being out in the city with Mat longer was tempting. "Well, I do like being out here with you. But nothing beats cuddles." Mat nodded, just absolutely gleaming that you had finally warmed up to that type of closeness. "Anyway, we have next Christmas to go window shopping, right?"

"Next Christmas?"

"Yeah, next Christmas."

So you were implying that you'd be here at least all year. Maybe more. And Mat couldn't handle that. His heart pounded in his chest.

"So I haven't scared you off yet?"

You laughed. "No, the opposite, really."

"That's good."

You stood in each other’s arms in comfortable silence for a few more moments, just enjoying each other. He hadn’t scared you away. He had made you more and more sure that he was gonna be worth it. He was here for the long run, and there was very little he could do to scare you away- that, you knew.

"Wanna head home, baby?"

"As much as I love skating with you, yeah. I'm getting chilly."

“Cuddles it is, then.”

------

You stumbled into Mat’s apartment, giggling and rubbing your hands together, shaking the snow off your clothes. Mat pulled off his wet jacket and shoes and rushed to the thermostat, turning the central air system as warm and cozy as it could get. You kicked off your shoes and dropped your jacket and skates by his door, following him into his bedroom and snickering at how he was already changed into sweats and was pulling a thick crew neck over his head.

He looked up, his hair still a wreck from pulling on the sweater, to see you in the doorway, still shivering through your giggles. He pulled you close and wrapped his arms around you, swallowing you in his warmth. "C’mon, we can’t have you cold. Go through my drawers, babe. Take any clothes you want, and find me in the living room, alright?"

"Okay."

It didn’t take you long to decide on something of his to wear. Easily your favorite article of clothing of his, the soft light gray hoodie was lying on his bed, just calling for you to grab. You slipped it over your head and grabbed a pair of his sweats, pulling the strings tight around your waist and rolling up the ankles. After grabbing some of his large socks from the drawer, you caught sight of yourself in his mirror. So, this was you now, huh? Cuddling up in your boyfriend’s oversized clothes, in his apartment, about to go snuggle on his couch. You were almost dizzy with emotion, and you couldn’t stop smiling at yourself as you looked at yourself in his clothes. You were someone’s girlfriend, someone’s favorite person. Again. And this time you felt safe in his arms. You felt loved.

“(Y/N)?” Mat called from the living room.

You took another deep breath and opened the door. Mat was standing by the couch, in big, fuzzy socks and sweatpants and his fluffy sweater, holding two steaming mugs.

“Hey, Maty.”

“Hey, baby.” He laughed through the word, his eyes running up and down your figure. Your figure was hidden behind his baggy clothes, but he had never loved you more than at this moment. You were wearing his clothes. You were in his clothes. There was something about seeing you like this that was so much more beautiful than anything else. More beautiful than the first time he saw you, than when you babysat together, than when you cuddled for the very first time. There was something beautifully intimate about seeing you in his clothes. As if in a way the two of you were becoming more and more intertwined every date. He finally realized he’d been staring and sucked in a breath. “Thought you jumped out the window and ran away or something.”

You laughed. “No, never.”

He grinned and held out the mugs as you moved towards him. “I made us hot chocolate.”

“Is it good? I know you’re not very good at cooking.” You took the mug anyway, giving him teasing eyes.

“Ouch!” Mat laughed and took a sip of his own chocolate. “Hey, c’mon, it’s pretty good!” He watched with a proud, gleaming smile as you took a sip, and you could barely taste it when he continued. “Right? Isn’t it so good?”

“It is, baby.”

“Wanna, maybe, watch some Netflix before going to bed?”

“That sounds perfect.”

Mat’s couch was large, large enough for him to stretch his long, six-foot body out on, and stretch out he did, pulling you down beside him. He tucked you back against his chest, his thick arms around your waist and his big feet nudging at yours under the blanket. As the night dragged on, the snow coming down heavier against the windows, you could feel his breath against your neck, you could feel it getting softer and softer as he fell asleep. “Baby,” You turned towards him, lifting his face between your hands. He hummed in response, his eyes opening and his lips smiling. “Let’s go to bed. You look sleepy.”

“I am.”

“So am I.”

“Let’s go.” Mat rolled off the couch sleepily and lifted you.

“Mat, you don’t have to carry me, bubs. Looks like you’re gonna fall over.”

“I wanna.”

You laughed when he hoisted you up in his arms and reached for the remote to turn off the TV. He stumbled towards the bedroom, giggling and nearly falling over, before shutting off the lights and dropping you onto the bed, crawling up next to you and making the bed bounce as he flopped his heavy body down.

“Mat.” You pulled his face up from the pillow to look at you. “C’mere, I wanna hold you like the other night.”

“Oh, for sure.”

Mat had never felt more comfortable in his life than when he had his head resting on your chest, your fingers tangled in his hair and your arm around his shoulders. And you’d never felt more safe than when his arms were around you, his lips against your skin and his weight heavy on top of you. You’d never felt this safe with any other man in your life, and Mat was so, so gentle and amazing to you.

“Did you have a nice night?”

“It was amazing.”

“Mmm.” Mat squeezed you in his arms. “I’m so happy you’re warming up to me now. I’m so happy we’re clicking so well. I was afraid you wouldn’t...”

“I am. I’m comfortable. We click so well, baby. I’m sorry it was a little difficult at first.”

“‘It’s my fault too.” His voice was sleepy and soft as his hand found your cheek in the dark, his thumb rubbing circles on your skin. “Will you stay in the morning?”

This time, you weren’t unsure. This time, you knew how you felt. This time, you wouldn’t run.

“Of course, bubs.”

#mat barzal #mathew barzal #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #fic #mathew barzal x reader #op

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yzkhr · 4 years ago

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A Christmas oneshot featuring Shinichi and Sonoko with a little bit of Shinran as well

May everyone enjoy the rest of the year and Happy Holidays!

"So," the twenty two year-old Suzuki Sonoko asked for the nth time as she peeks out of the dressing room, yawning as she languidly modeled a pink ribboned dress, "remind me again why I'm here at the mall shopping for fancy outfits instead of sleeping in my day off? And with you of all people."

The man in question, former highschool detective now a respected police officer Kudo Shinichi, shooked his head and looked at the dress with dissaprovement before answering.

"Because, it's almost Christmas and I need to give Ran something." he then picked out another pink dress from the rack, this time it's off shoulder and too lacy for Sonokos' taste. "How about this one?"

"Why do I need to be here then? It's not like I know Ran more than you do. You guys literally moved in together as soon as you turned eighteen." It was now her turn to disagree as she glared rather offensively at the outfit. Shinichi being the receiver of such look all throughout his life, got the message and brings it back to where it was five seconds ago.

"I've been giving Ran all the stuff she wanted since we were little kids. I'm running out of ideas you know." he admitted with his face slightly flushed at the mention of their immediate live in, as if remembering everyones' knowing looks back when they first announced it.

She grinned, catching on to what the detective is trying to get to (Or at least what she interprets he's trying to get through) "So, what you're saying is, that you need my amazing skills and judgement as someone who not only has the best fashion sense in Beika but also as Rans' one and only bestfriend?"

The woman compliments herself and walked across to choose from two blouses on the nearest shelf that caught her eyes as she acts unbothered while Shinichis' face turned sour.

"I knew I should've just called Haibara for help." he mumbled under his breath, eyebrows twitching at sight of his overconfident childhood friend. His complaint didn't go unheard however, as the Suzuki Heiress' head turned at the sound, eyes sharp and accusing.

"What did you say?" voice low and threatening, she asked. Shinichi could have answered honestly and annoy her enough for her to leave right then and there but he remembered, that if Sonoko were to leave through the shops' doors, so would his chances of suprising and making Ran happy with his present.

So, with the thought of satisfying his girl, he gulped down both his saliva and repressed pride as he puts on a facsimile of a smile.

"I said, 'yes, you're absolutely right Suzuki-san.'" Sonoko seemed to buy his false agreement as her face broke into a smile of triumph, treading through one of the clothing racks while laughing as if she won the loterry.

Shinichi on the other hand reaches out to his phone, contemplating whether he should just call Haibara over. But then he decided against it, coming to the conclusion that he rather handle a proud woman he had known all his life, than another proud woman who he had only been aware of for about a quarter of it.

Wary and defeated, he sighed as he followed. "Let's just get this over with."

After debating and choosing among hundreds of clothes and outfits for literal hours, it's hard for Sonoko to pretend and act oblivious when all the eyes and peeking they keep receiving from different women started becoming full on stares. What's even more uncomfortable would be the fact that she's not even supposed to be the one bothered but the man beside her!

Well, she can't blame them. It is rare for a man to be in store specifically made for women. She remembered how she once brought Makoto in a boutique and all she got were cute skirts and an embarrassed karate boyfriend on the way home.

The ladies were too expressive however, that even she can't help but feel restless. Most girls gaze at the detective with eyes clearly full of admiration, some with an uneasy amount of lust Sonoko just had to look away from, others even fuss and giggle around in groups, their topic so painfully obvious with the way they steal glances every now and then.

It makes her want to raise an eyebrow all day long, wondering what these females and specially her bestfriend saw in this man that she just couldn't figure out. To Suzuki Sonoko, Kudo Shinichi was, is, and always will be a mystery nerd with—she'll have to admit— good looks, intelligent mind, high morale, but unfortunately, possesses an insensitive and sarcastic personality she can't take ( even though ironically, his personality is too similar to her own).

But, then again, as she watches him put intense effort into judging and observing every attire in his view with undivided attention as if uncovering a crime scene when in fact, it's only about finding a Christmas gift all the while remaining innocent from the various gaping all around him, Sonoko almost thought Ran is also lucky to have him as a boyfriend.

Almost.

Wanting to distract herself, she attempts to converse. " What are you trying to find exactly? We've been here for hours and we still can't find something good enough for your taste."

He flinched, startled at the sudden voice. Once recovered, puts his hand on his jaw and looks up to the ceiling, similar to when he tries to piece together objects and clues that doesn't have any connections at the surface.

"Hmm, I want a present that, you know, when she opens it, she'll be really impressed. But I also want it simple since Ran's not a fan of grand plannings. She's always so extra and thoughtful when it comes to giving but hates receiving anything like them. So, I want a gift she'll absolutely love but won't complain about how expensive or time consuming it is."

The way a certain detective says his words while wearing an expression Sonoko only ever had the chance of seeing when their childhood friend is involved makes her want to tease but she keeps quiet instead, letting him keep his pride.

The brown haired woman laughed and silently agreed at his sentiment. Ran had always been so creative when it comes to preparing other peoples' present but feels guilty when they do the same. It was honestly endearing.

"Then, why a dress? Why not a book? Ran loves books, doesn't she?" she wondered. Shinichi shooks his head at the suggestion. "She's been too busy lately. I'm pretty sure she won't even have a chance of opening it."

"Then plan her a vacation!" he deadpanned and reminded her. "She doesn't like grand thing, remember?"

"A romantic date?"

"Did that on our first year together."

"Watch a movie?"

"Too simple."

" Expensive dinner?"

"Done with that on our third year."

"Aaah!" Sonoko whined in frustration. "I don't know, kiss or make out with her on Christmas or something!" she finally blurted out, having no ideas left whatsoever.

A few seconds of silence between the two passed and realization kicks in. Worried at how suddenly unresponsive Shinichi is, Sonoko glances to apologize if she angered him at her careless outburst.

"I'm sorry! It was a joke--Shinichi-kun?" her words died out, distress turning into confusion. Rather than a glare or an indifferent countenance, she was met by a very flustered Shinichi, with all the blood in his body seemingly gathering at his face while his eyes looks at anywhere but hers. With that, Sonoko slowly made a deduction.

"Y-you already did it?" ever so quietly she asks in disbelief. When his face got even redder than before, she got her unspoken confirmation.

With that, Sonoko laughed.

Her uncontrollable cackling attracted everyone's attention, including the dazed detective who stood up almost instantaneously, aware of his unconscious slip-up.

"B-Barou! W-We never did such a thing! Your sudden vulgarity just surprised me!" his cover ups were left unheard, as the Suzuki's Heiress guffaws were too loud.

Suddenly, Sonoko got an idea.

She stopped laughing, but the smile on her face foreshadowed a terrible feeling to Shinichi, who wanted nothing more but to go home, away from embarrassment. She runs off before he can even stop her from further humiliation she'll surely cause.

He inhaled and exhaled, trying to calm himself down and lose the apparent redness of his visage. His little breathing exercise proved to be useless however, with Sonoko coming back holding something that made his face as reddest it had ever been, even comparable to the blood he sees on the crime scenes.

On Sonokos' hands lay the thinnest piece of clothing he had ever seen, with it's laces and uncomfortably soft looking silk barely even covering anything but the important parts. It didn't help how seductive the color was, crimson, just like his face right now as he stared at it. Out of all the things the woman could have brought him, it had to be this. It just had to be a fucking lingerie.

"Wha--" he started but was cut off with her mouth that Shinichi begged she should've just shut.

"I found the perfect gift! And it's even red!" she held it up even more, showing a clearer picture that Shinichi didn't know if he regrets seeing.

"You--"

"It's simple but I assure you that Ran would love it!"

"So--"

"What's even better, is that not only will she love it, you'll love it too--"

He thankfully, thankfully, cuts her off, not only being heard by the everyone in the store, but probably the entire shopping mall of Beika.

"SONOKO!"

He really should've just called Haibara. Or better yet, cooked a fancy dinner for Ran as a Christmas gift instead.

#DCMK #I don't know why i did this but I personally like it 😂#An unappropriate Christmas gift to you all #Suzuki Sonoko #Kudo Shinichi #More interations for two please

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blogging-time · 4 years ago

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When I Kissed The Teacher

Dialogue Prompt List – Long List My Fic Masterlist

Prompt: “Let’s drink wine and trash talk our co-workers.” - Logan and Roman. (Friendship) - Submitted by @louisthewarlock

Summary: Roman Crowne has just been dumped by yet another co-worker. Logan Sanders makes it his personal mission to console the heartbroken Spanish teacher while also convincing him to turn off that godforsaken ABBA soundtrack.

Warnings: Post Break-Up (Not Logince), Alcohol Mention.

Pairings: Platonic Logince/Foreshadowing Romantic Logince, Past Royality, Past Prinxiety, Past Roceit, Background Intruality.

Word Count: 1,688

~ ~ ~

“Well this seems like a perfectly healthy and not at all counter-intuitive way to conduct oneself post break-up,” Logan remarked as he slowly entered the almost vacant looking Spanish classroom.

The sight awaiting him was that of his co-worker – Roman Crowne – sitting slumped over a rather busy looking table, his unusually messy head of hair tucked uncomfortably between his hastily folded arms. Surrounding him were various pages that Logan couldn’t quite decipher, as well as some familiar looking textbooks that Roman would use to teach his sophomore classes when the school board once again forbid him from making “Pan’s Labyrinth” an official part of the school’s curriculum. The most notable item at Roman’s disposal however had to be his mobile phone, as it was currently playing “When I Kissed The Teacher,” repeatedly on Spotify.

“You know most people actually knock before inviting themselves into a colleague’s classroom, right?” Roman half-heartedly muttered against the cheap plywood.

“Well you should know that most teachers actually prefer to work at their own desks instead of downgrading to a small student’s table. I guess we’re both just feeling a little unconventional today.”

With a heavy sigh and even heavier limbs, the Spanish teacher finally mustered up the energy required to pry his face off the aforementioned table. As soon as the pair made eye-contact, Logan couldn’t help but smile sympathetically at Roman. No matter how many times he found the man in this heartbroken state his tearstained face simply never failed to upset him.

“There’s a window,” Roman responded vaguely before Logan could even make an awkward attempt to console him. Then, upon recognizing the science teacher’s confusion, he unenthusiastically waved his hand and explained, “There’s a window embedded in the door to this classroom – I’m sure you’re well aware of it. Had I chosen to lay about and wail over my lost love at my own desk then surely any old passer-by could have caught me in my moment of lament.”

As sympathetic as Logan was towards his friend’s situation, he still couldn’t help but roll his eyes at how dramatic the man was being.

“Janus Marshall merely terminated his relationship with you, Roman. He himself is not deceased.”

“Hark! For his love for me is dead at least – dead and buried beneath the heels of some younger, prettier thing! Its ghost takes the form of the man I once danced with, and it taunts me as I pass him by in the corridor on my way to lunch.”

“Would you kindly stop and think rationally for five minutes instead of writing another soliloquy?” Logan may sound exasperated, but in reality, he simply hates seeing his friend’s thoughts spiral out of control like this. “Janus made it abundantly clear to you months ago that he would be migrating to England at the end of the year in order to teach Psychology at Oxford. Since neither of you were ever interested in long-distance relationships, I thought this break-up would seem inevitable to you.”

Roman visibly deflated upon hearing such a logical argument, yet somehow Logan didn’t feel victorious.

“I know… I suppose I just got a little carried away again. Deep down I’d honestly hoped we’d be able to make it work.”

“But why?” Logan asked, “Why would you allow yourself to get your hopes up time and time again? Every time you’ve dated a colleague your relationship has ended within six months or less.”

“Now hold on just a moment, Charles Rush-In! Just because I happened to date – and consequently was dumped by – a few of my colleagues doesn’t mean having a relationship with one is inherently flawed and destined to fail.”

“While your current statistics would highly suggest otherwise, that isn’t the part that concerns me the most. What concerns me the most is that you’re clearly upset or made to feel uncomfortable every time you’re forced to work with an ex-partner.”

“Name one example.”

“Patton Hart.”

“You mean the Home Economics teacher? I love Patton! Well… not in that way… not anymore at least… Yeah things were a little awkward at first… and then things got awkward again eight months later when he asked if I would be okay with him dating my brother… but both of us are on very good terms now!”

Logan quirked an eyebrow at that, but ultimately decided it was Remus’ responsibility to tell Roman about his current engagement plans.

“Okay then, what about Virgil Rae?”

“Ah yes, the English teacher who never stopped reading too much into things.”

“You and him seem to argue a lot.”

“To be fair we also argued before and during our relationship too.”

Logan clicked his tongue in perfect time with ABBA before naming, “Janus Marshall.”

“That’s a fresh wound! It’s hardly fair for you to twist the knife in that!”

“I can’t help but disagree considering you’re currently spending your lunch break marking papers and crying in your classroom just to avoid encountering Janus – something you wouldn’t have to do if he wasn’t your colleague.”

Roman couldn’t deflate anymore, so instead he was forced to sink further down in his admittedly rather uncomfortable plastic chair. Mentally he made a note to stop by the thrift store and his aunt Dot’s place after work to see if he could somehow acquire twenty-six cheap cushions that would make hour long lessons in these chairs more comfortable for his students.

“Why are you so determined to prove the successful office romance trope is unattainable?” he asked in a voice that already sounded so defeated.

“Why are you so determined to prove me wrong?” Logan countered.

Roman met Logan’s eyes for just a moment before completely averting his gaze. Logan coughed into his elbow for just a second in a manner that conveniently covered both of his cheeks. A minute passed, and neither man acknowledged either his or his co-worker’s sudden actions.

Eventually Logan decided to break that uncomfortable minute of silence with a sigh of his own.

“Do you have another class immediately after lunch?”

“Not today. I was supposed to be teaching Freshman Spanish for the next hour, but apparently Principal Sanders has called in a public speaker. I won’t have a class again until last period. How about you?”

“It appears I’m in a similar situation. I typically have the hour free after lunch on a Thursday until my Juniors come in for their Chemistry class at 2PM. If the circumstances today were any different then I would undoubtedly use this time to either grade my students most recent homework or to formulate a lesson plan for next week.”

“If the circumstances were any different?” Roman asked with a raised eyebrow and an only slightly watery eye.

“I have a bottle of Chardonnay in my car,” Logan answered. Then, upon recognizing the Spanish teacher’s concern, he quickly waved his hands and explained, “Your brother gifted it to me a few weeks ago, stating that it may help me to ‘loosen up around handsome men,’ - only he used far more vulgar phrasing than I. I can assure you that I would never drink and drive. I’ve simply never felt the need to consume alcohol since receiving the gift, and so I let the bottle sit forgotten in my car until now.”

“What? I haven’t driven you to drink already have I?” Roman joked, but Logan didn’t miss the way another silent tear disobediently slid down his still reddened cheeks.

Again, neither man acknowledged the sudden presence of emotion.

“Believe me, Roman, if any Crowne were ever going to drive me to drink then it would most certainly be that unfathomable brother of yours. My idea was more along the lines of… well…” The science teacher paused for a moment as he remembered how much more important Roman was to him than his reputation. “Let’s drink wine and trash talk our co-workers.”

Upon proposing the idea, Logan let out a nervous breath he hadn’t even realised he’d been holding. Despite the simplicity of their plan, inviting Roman to share a glass of wine with him during work hours just so that they could say negative things about their generally very respectable colleagues to him felt so deeply personal and borderline exhilarating.

Roman must have recognised how much the offer meant to Logan, as he too seemed shocked that the usually oh-so calm and collected science teacher would propose something so unorthodox.

“You want to share a drink with me now?”

“Well encountering your colleagues won’t be an issue after work hours – Perhaps if we start highlighting all of their potential flaws now, you’ll be less inclined to test fate and pursue another doomed relationship with one of them later.”

“Hey!” Roman shouted incredulously, but he was genuinely laughing now.

The sound was so infectious that his co-worker soon found himself chuckling quietly to himself.

“I’ll ask the canteen staff if they can spare two small cups so we don’t drink too much,” Logan offered, “Plus I keep more than enough spare change in my wallet at all times to ensure we can afford a cab ride home. We won’t be stranded here at school if you accept. All I ask in return is that you turn off that infuriating song – I’ve heard it more than enough times now, thank you very much.”

“You drive a hard bargain, Mr Berry,” Roman responded, his lips forming a playful smirk as he pretended to mull the proposition over. “What album would you suggest we listen to in its place?”

“How about ‘The Wall’ by Pink Floyd? I believe I still have that cassette sitting in my car right now, along with ‘The Dark Side of the Moon.’”

“Oh, wow…” Roman drawled as he blinked his eyes rapidly in only semi-feigned surprise. “I think you just aged ten years for every word you just said, Lograndad.”

“Of course, you can always just sit here and listen to the sound of Janus’ voice instead.”

“On second thought-” Roman announced, standing up rather quickly as he grabbed his nearby coat and bag, “-Pink Floyd sounds like an excellent choice. Why don’t you lead the way?”

~ ~ ~

General Tag-List:

@sholaghhh (Formerly @lunamay2006) @not-so-innocent-bi-sander @saphael-malec102 @anastasialestina @seraphlies

Additional Tags:

@sympathetic-deceit-trash

Note: It’s been a long time since I’ve posted a fic, so this tag-list may be a little outdated. If at any point you want to be added/removed from my tag-list then feel free to let me know!

As always, feedback is much appreciated! I was pretty out of practice here, so I’m sure I’d benefit a lot from constructive criticism!

For spelling, punctuation and grammar I followed Microsoft Word's English (UK) rules. Feel free to correct any errors you may find in the comments, but please keep in mind that some words are spelt differently here in the UK!

I hope you’re all have a fan-der-tastic day!

~ ~ ~

#Thomas Sanders #Sanders Sides #Roman Sanders #Logan Sanders #Logince #Background Characters:#Remus Sanders #Patton Sanders #Virgil Sanders #Background Relationships:#Intruality #My Fic #Post Break-Up #Alcohol Mention #Reblogs > Likes

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aros001 · 3 years ago

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First time read through light novel vol. 7. Random thoughts.

Through some kind of mistake, Rem had completely accepted Subaru, but he knew all too well that the Subaru Natsuki she saw was an ideal far removed from the real thing. Compared with the man she envisioned in her mind, the cards that the real Subaru held were few in number, and poor in quality—

But he learned, now that he stood at the playing table, no one cared about his personal problems.

All anyone in his position could do was try to win with the cards he was dealt.

This is sign I think Subaru has grown a little bit, though he is still growing. It's not about him, and Ferris later seems like he's trying to drill that into him a bit more later when Subaru wants to help with the battle preparations. It's good that he wants to help but sometimes he's unintentionally making things too much about himself, just to ease his own feelings. There are places where he would be getting in the way if he tried to help and Subaru's learning to accept that; to be patient and give his services where he can actually be of use, not just to help himself feel better. And damn, does he put that new maturity to good use in the big battle.

Originally, these negotiations had been Rem’s appointed duty. He could easily imagine how being unable to divulge her task to Subaru and having to speak with Crusch day after day had whittled away at her spirit.

Subaru had continually rotted by himself while the future of the Emilia camp had been entrusted to her—she must have suffered under that burden.

He hoped that in some small way, this victory repaid the girl whose feelings had supported him for so long; if so, then for the moment, that was enough for Subaru to be happy.

I really like this part. Again, it's not all about Subaru. He's acknowledging how much Rem's had to deal with while he was having his breakdowns and indulgences during his prior loops, and how much she still did what she could to support him in spite of it all. We're getting a little more that she does have a life outside of just Subaru and a little more added on to why he feels he's been so selfish. It really feels like he is now doing this for her. It's not like Subaru was completely self-centered before but I imagine there were times, especially with Emilia, where he wanted to help, but he wanted to be the one to help. He wanted good things for her but part of him cared more that he was the one giving them to her, verses her just getting what she needs in general. It's like how he couldn't feel happy that Otto was in support of Emilia first time he met him, though of course that was when he was at one of his lowest points.

And, of course, I'm absolutely reveling in all the sweetness of Rem supporting Subaru through his negotiations. Even if it's just holding his hand and reminding him she's there, he clearly appreciates the strength and courage it's giving him. Obviously they're not a romantic couple but this is the kind of stuff I love to see in romantic relationships. Just the basic comfort and support they find in each other's presence.

“...If I am gone, will you remember me just as long?”

“...I don’t wanna answer that. It’s bad luck.”

Speaking with a voice of dismay, Subaru gave Rem’s forehead a little poke.

When he touched Rem’s forehead, she smiled with a happy expression, almost as if she’d received the reply she had been hoping for.

Given something I believe I've been spoiled on for what happens later in the story (after where the anime leaves off), this feels like a very cruel monkey's paw bit of foreshadowing.

“Subaru.”

“...What?”

“I am fine with being your second wife.”

They were words to make a man unwittingly halt in his tracks.

When Subaru, unable to resist, looked toward her, Rem made a face like that of an adorable puppy, seemingly wagging her tail as she awaited Subaru’s reply.

Oh, good grief, just how far is this girl gonna—?

“If Emilia-tan’s a very generous first wife...”

“Well then, when we get back you must convince Lady Emilia. I shall try hard as well.”

Rem clenched the hand not grasped into a fist, very animated as she spoke with a smile.

Speaking jokingly like that broke all the tension, driving home to Subaru how weak he was. He truly couldn’t hold a candle to the girl.

I'm...going to have to see where the story goes from here, and how truly joking/serious Rem was with that second wife line. Just to put it out there, I don't really have a good view of polygamy. I'm always going to think that, 1st wife or 2nd or 3rd or wherever, someone is always going to be treated like second best and second priority. What they're receiving doesn't feel like real love and that's not fair to them. The only way I can see myself supporting a polygamous marriage in this series is if it's made clear Emilia and Rem are attracted to each other as well as Subaru and want to bang. Then it at least becomes three people who love each other as opposed to just "the guy and his two prizes".

So, first time you read this part in the novels or watched it in the anime, was anyone else afraid of the White Whale not showing up where and when Subaru told everyone it would? Like the world would just want to gut punch him one more time and have everyone think he's a fraud? I remember I was.

One theory I have for why the witch's scent grows stronger, not just when Subaru RBD, but also when he tries to talk about RBD is that maybe the witch likes when he acknowledges her "gift" to him. But she's also quite screwed up and doesn't like it when he tries to "share" what's between them, thus why she punishes him or those around him for doing so.

In front, behind and up above, he saw yet another whale-shaped figure high in the sky, scattering mist all around.

—The infinite mouths of the three White Whales laughed together, drawing out the despair of men.

Subaru, Crusch, the soldiers, everyone, etc.

Though pests had interrupted it, the White Whale’s mission was to cover the world in mist. This, too, was the command of its instinct, and doing so was the purpose of the White Whale’s existence.

One thing I've enjoyed about the various light novel series I've been reading is that, compared to their anime, I get a better idea of various characters' and monsters' mentalities. The best example I could give would be the goblins in Goblin Slayer (that they are not mindless creatures; that they know EXACTLY what they're doing to people and they enjoy it) and this bit with the White Whale is another good one. It seeks to cover the world in its mist and thus destroy/consume/erase everything (maybe?) And it doesn't know why it seeks to do this. It just does, suggesting there is something else, possibly the one behind its creation, driving it.

It's also interesting that, to the White Whale, the witch's scent is described as foul, despite the stories that she's the one who created it. This brings to mind a couple different theories.

Satella didn't actually create the whale. Someone else, perhaps one of the other six witches did or one of the archbishops.

Satella did create the whale but maybe used one of the other witches to do it. Puck did mention something about Gluttony when he sensed the whale approaching in the last loop.

Satella REALLY cannot tell the difference between positive and negative emotions, even more so than we were already led to believe.

Kind of cruel of Rem to trick Subaru into thinking she was dying, but at least we do get Subaru's completely true feelings out in the open. Back to the polygamy matter, I don't have a problem with Subaru being indecisive between Emilia and Rem or being in love with them both. It's not just that they've done so much for him, in which case the relationship would feel just like how Emilia described, just the two of them repaying debts to each other. Both women have been a hugely positive influence on Subaru's life. They've impacted it for the better and helped push him into being more of a man he can live with being, and it works the other way around too. It would be hard to imagine his story without either of them in it. I feel the same way with Code Geass in regards to CC, Shirley, and Kallen in Lelouch's story. It was the only "harem" series I've ever watched where I had trouble saying who the MC should end up with, because all three were irreplaceable in his life and story. Take any of them out and it loses a lot. Emilia and Rem are a similar case.

As Rem looked back at Subaru, now beside her, large tears filled her blue eyes. It was not being left behind that she feared. No, what she feared more than anything was—

“When you are in distress, Subaru, I want to be the one offering my hand faster than anyone. When you hesitate along your path, I want to be the one pushing on your back. When you challenge something, I want to be at your side, stopping you from shaking. That is—that is all I wish for. So please...”

Again, more great parallels between Subaru and Rem, as this isn't dissimilar to what he wanted to do for Emilia.

Wilhelm might just be the biggest example of a tsundere I've ever seen. Married a woman he loved from the bottom of heart for what was assumedly a decent amount of time...never freaking told her "I love you" until he finally killed the beast that killed her.

As for Theresia, it's definitely a case of why context is so important. She never wanted to be the Sword Saint. She only did so because she found purpose in saving as many lives as she could with the insane power she had (the whole "great power, great responsibility" chestnut). If Wilhelm is strong enough to protect and save people, to where her absence would make no difference, then she doesn't have to be the Sword Saint anymore and can live the life she wants. It's what makes it an actual kindness vs. some chauvinistic BS. Probably helps too that she'd already helped put an end to a long war, so she wouldn't have been needed as much anyway.

“So it is said. The existence and origins of demon beasts are mysteries to us. Some propagate in the same manner as ordinary living creatures, but some suddenly appear out of nowhere like the White Whale. Though, properly speaking, the only exceptions on par with the White Whale are the Black Serpent and the Great Hare.”

Oh...I'm so not looking forward to meeting those two. After how much tragedy just the White Whale caused, what the f**k are those things going to do? My money would be that whatever it is, it will hurt Subaru quite horribly.

This book potentially answered a question I had in my last post. The Witch Cult is after Emilia because they see her as an impostor of the Witch of Envy, or at least so the characters in-story are speculating.

Not sure how many people here are fans of Rising of the Shield Hero but after this I kind of want to see the White Whale and the Spirit Tortoise duke it out. That sounds awesome. Mountain Turtle vs. Witch Fish.

Original Reddit post: https://www.reddit.com/r/Re_Zero/comments/gub735/novels_first_time_read_through_light_novel_vol_7/

#re:zero #random thoughts #reddit repost

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alwaysmarilynmonroe · 4 years ago

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It’s hard to believe 58 years to the day, on the night of August 4th, the world’s most famous Star would leave us all. Yes, I know a lot of you will be thinking, “wait, didn’t she die on the 5th?” – she was found in the early hours of that morning, and her death was announced then – so that is the “technical” date. However, as with many Marilyn “facts” that too is incorrect and so like every year, I will be posting this on the 4th.

I’m not going to write about all the ridiculous dramas and he said she said statements that have grown rapidly over the years, as they don’t deserve any more coverage. Whenever a major celebrity dies, the more shocking the statement, the more attention it gains, so much so that it’s almost became ingrained into society as being accepted as fact. But, I am going to have a big name and shame moment for the two main culprits – Robert Slatzer and Norman Mailer I’m looking at you both. Also Anthony Summers – you’re a piece of crap and I will never forgive you for publishing Marilyn’s autopsy photo in your toilet paper worthy biography.

Long story short as they don’t deserve any mention with Marilyn’s name – Slatzer created the whole Kennedy, Mafia and basically everything shit and defamatory written about Marilyn in the early 1970s. If you want to find out the actual truth with documented facts click HERE.

Sorry to disappoint any conspiracy lovers – Marilyn didn’t love JFK, nor did any of the Kennedy’s kill her, she died of an either accidental or intentional prescription drug overdose. Was I there? No, I wasn’t even alive, but it’s really not hard to disregard the nonsense and absurd claims, when you actually take the time to do a little (a lot in my case) of research.

Baby Norma Jeane in 1929.

Norma Jeane (left) and a friend at the Los Angeles Orphanage in 1936.

Norma Jeane at the Los Angeles Clifton Restaurant, which she attended with her then Husband Jim Doughtery in 1944.

Marilyn by Richard Miller in April 1946.

Marilyn by J.R. Eyerman in 1950.

Marilyn on her Doheny Drive Patio by Alfred Eisenstaedt in May 1953.

Marilyn in Korea visiting the Troops in February 1954.

Marilyn by Milton Greene on January 28th 1955.

Marilyn by Cecil Beaton on February 22nd 1956.

Marilyn during the filming of Some Like It Hot by Richard Miller in October 1958.

Marilyn during the filming of The Misfits by Erich Hartmann in the Autumn of 1960.

Marilyn during the filming of Something’s Got To Give by Lawrence Schiller in May 1962.

Thankfully, I was lucky and never fell down that ridiculous rabbit hole in the first place. I discovered Marilyn whilst reading an article in Vanity Fair magazine almost ten years ago, discussing the then upcoming release of, Fragments: Poems, Intimate Notes, Letters by Marilyn Monroe.

This book is truly one of a kind and is basically a published archive of many of Marilyn’s personal letters, excerpts and anecdotes she had written from 1943 until 1962. Before anyone says it’s disrespectful to publish/share these and it is an invasion of privacy, to an extent I agree. However, as stated a few moment ago, with the amount of disrespectful, outrageous nonsense that has been slurred out over the half a century since Marilyn left us – I think it’s a necessity to see her own words in print. Ironically enough, it’s almost as if Marilyn herself foreshadowed the future of the media, when she said this in an Interview to Georges Belmont for Marie Claire Magazine in April 1960.

“The true things rarely get into circulation, it’s usually the false things.”

Therefore, today I have decided to focus on Marilyn herself, not as a Star, Tragic Icon or a pretty face, but as a human who had a beautiful, sensitive soul. Some of you may already know, but for those who don’t, Marilyn actually wrote numerous poems throughout her years, mostly just for herself. In her rare moments of confidence, she would occasionally show a few to her close friend, Writer Norman Rosten, who said the following in his (must have) book, Marilyn Among Friends.

“She had the instinct and reflexes of the poet, but she lacked the control.”

“Although she gave the appearance of being so confident and self assured, she was in reality incredibly self conscious and her own biggest critic, which is heartbreaking really as she was truly gifted. She was such a perfectionist that she would spend hours preparing herself mentally and physically for her beloved fans, regularly looking in the mirror at her perceived flaws. Marilyn was infamous for her lateness, which is often viewed as diva like behaviour. However, the reality is, it’s rarely noted that her anxiety was so severe, she would break out in rashes and even vomit, before going on set.

In her final interview with LIFE Magazine, published one day before her death, she even said to Journalist Richard Meryman,

“I’m one of the world’s most self conscious people. I really have to struggle.”

I remember the first time I looked through Fragments, of course it was very upsetting to see her pain written down and think about her suffering, However, I strongly noticed this recurring theme of hope, despite some incredibly sad notes, there was always some sparkle of inner strength and I just thought that should be said. Often we ourselves don’t see are bravery and bouts of determination in our inner self, but others do and I for one am glad I can see in Marilyn what she could not.

I love you with all of my heart Marilyn, from the moment you came into my life, a decade ago in October 2010. Wherever you may be, I hope you know how much love, joy and happiness you have brought and continue to bring to many people’s lives each day. ______________________________________________________________________________

• Undated Poem.

Life – I am of both of your directions Somehow remaining hanging downward the most but strong as a cobweb in the wind – I exist more with the cold glistening frost. But my beaded rays have the colors I’ve seen in a painting – ah life they have cheated you ______________________________________________________________________________

• Undated Poem shared with Norman Rosten and published in his book, Marilyn: An Untold Story.

To the Weeping Willow

I stood beneath your limbs and you flowered and finally clung to me and when the wind struck with.. the earth and sand – you clung to me. ______________________________________________________________________________

• Undated Poem

Stones on the walk every color there is I stare down at you like a horizon – the space / the air is between us beckoning and I am many stories up my feet frightened as I grasp towards you ______________________________________________________________________________

• Undated Poem

Only parts of us will ever touch parts of others – one’s own truth is just that really – one’s own truth. We can only share the part that is within another’s knowing acceptable so one is for most part alone. As it is meant to be in evidently in nature – at best perhaps it could make our understanding seek another’s loneliness out. ______________________________________________________________________________

• Undated Poem

for life It is rather a determination not to be overwhelmed.

for work The truth can only be recalled, never invented ______________________________________________________________________________

• “Record” Black Notebook – Written in throughout 1951.

What I do believe in What is truth I believe in myself even my most delicate intangible feelings in the end everything is intangible my most precious liquid must never spill don’t spill your precious liquid life force they are all my feelings no matter what ______________________________________________________________________________

• “Record” Black Notebook – Written in throughout 1951. Fear of giving me the lines new maybe won’t be able to learn them maybe I’ll make mistakes people will either think I’m no good or laugh or belittle me or think I can’t act. Women looked stern and critical – unfriendly and cold in general afraid director won’t think I’m any good. remembering when I couldn’t do a god damn thing. then trying to build myself up with the fact that I have done things right that were even good and have had moments that were excellent but the bad is heavier to carry around and feel have no confidence depressed mad ______________________________________________________________________________

• Other “Record” Notebook – Written in throughout 1955.

I do know ways people act unconventionally – mainly myself – do not be afraid of my sensitivity or to use it – for I can & will channel it + crazy thoughts too I want to do my scene or exercises (idiotic as they may seem) as sincerely as I can knowing and showing how I know it is also – no matter – what they might think – or judge from it ______________________________________________________________________________

• Other “Record” Notebook – Written in throughout 1955.

I can and will help myself and work on things analytically no matter how painful – if I forget things (the unconscious wants to forget – I will only try to remember) Discipline – Concentration

my body is my body every part of it. ______________________________________________________________________________

• Other “Record” Notebook – Written in throughout 1955.

feel what I feel within myself – that is trying to become aware of it also what I feel in others not being ashamed of my feeling, thoughts – or ideas

realize the thing that they are – ______________________________________________________________________________

• Waldorf Astoria Stationery – Written in throughout 1955.

Sad, sweet trees – I wish for you – rest but you must be wakeful ______________________________________________________________________________

• Waldorf Astoria Stationery – Written in throughout 1955.

Not a scared lonely little girl anymore

Remember you can sit on top of the world (it doesn’t feel like it.) You can have any help you want personally – or in your work – or anything else you want – There are technical ways to go about it or problems – figure out if anything tec. can be done about it because there are people to help you – gladly – you more than most they want to help Remember there is nothing you lack – nothing to be self conscious about yourself – you have everything but the discipline and technique which you are learning & seeking on your own – after all nothing was or is being given to you – you have had none of this work thrown your way you sought it – it didn’t seek you

Too much talent Too much ability and and much too much sensitivity to invert yourself out of fear – not come to class – or to do things like being afraid to come to class or to get up. ______________________________________________________________________________

• “Italian Agenda” Notebook – Written throughout 1955 or 1956.

and the more I think of it the more I realize there are no answers life is to be lived

and since it is comparatively so short – (maybe too short – maybe too long – the only thing I know for sure, it isn’t easy

now that I want to live and I feel suddenly not old not concerned about previous thing except to protect myself – my life – and to desperately (pray) tell the universe I trust it ______________________________________________________________________________

• Parkside House Stationery – Written during her stay in England between July 14th – November 20th 1956.

I guess I have always been deeply terrified to really be someone’s wife since I know from life one cannot love another, ever, really. ______________________________________________________________________________

• Roxbury Notes – Written throughout 1957 or 1958.

In every spring the green is too sharp – though the delicacy in their form is sweet and uncertain – it puts up a good struggle in the wind trembling all the while. Those leaves will relax, expand in the sun and each raindrop they will resist even when they’re battered and ripped. I think I am very lonely – my mind jumps. I see myself in the mirror now, brow furrowed – if I lean close I’ll see – what I don’t want to know – tension, sadness, disappointment, my eyes dulled, cheeks flushed with capillaries that look like rivers on maps – hair lying like snakes. The mouth makes me the saddest next to my dead eyes. There is a dark line between the lips in the outline of several waves in a turbulent storm – it says don’t kiss me, don’t fool me I’m a dancer who cannot dance. ______________________________________________________________________________

• Roxbury Notes – Written throughout 1957 or 1958.

re – relationships

Everyone’s childhood plays itself out No wonder no one knows the other or can completely understand. By this I don’t know if I’, just giving up with this conclusion or resigning myself – or maybe for the first time connecting with reality –

how do we know the pain of another’s earlier years let alone all that he drags with him since along the way at best a lot of lee-way is needed for the other – yet how much is unhealthy for one to bear.

I think to love bravely is the best and accept – as much as one can bear. ______________________________________________________________________________

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58 Years Without Marilyn. It's hard to believe 58 years to the day, on the night of August 4th, the world's most famous Star would leave us all.

#1940s #1950s #1960s #angel #blonde bombshell #classic hollywood #icon #legend #marilyn monroe #norma jeane #norma jeane baker #old hollywood #retro

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multisfabulis · 4 years ago

Text

Love’s Descent into Madness

Dethronement (Chapter 3/3)

Word Count: 3627

TW: Graphic depictions of violence, gore, decapitation, and major character death

Happy holidays!

I hope everyone likes the ending because writing this was suffering. Winter decided to come early this year and I absolutely hate the cold so a lot of this was written with numb fingers. The past few days have also been tiring and, because I wanted to get this out before Christmas, I had to pull an all-nighter to finish this and rewrite it to make it look pretty so this was a sleep-deprived fic.

Okay, so I have some things I need to explain:

First off, that line about Ayano needing to apply herself more to her schoolwork was actually a reference to a piece of fanart I saw of Saeru (in disguise as Kenjirou) helping Ayano with her homework and subtly taking digs at her the whole time. I just thought of it while I was writing that paragraph and thought it'd be a neat reference. I can't find the Tweet but I'm hoping someone has a link to it!

Second off, that instance of Kenjirou almost ruining Saeru's plan is a bit of foreshadowing to another Kagepro fic I'm in the works of writing. It may not be the next Kagepro fic I write but it IS coming.

Thirdly, the whole meaning behind Azami not being able to die but still being killed. I know it sounds like the "People die when they are killed" meme but let me explain. I needed to think of a way Azami could still die but without anyone telling me "She's immortal, she can't die" so the way I went about it is, the Queen Snake was what let her be immortal. Because that was the snake that, in my fic, marked her as a god, she couldn't die. Once she gave that snake to Marry, she lost her god status, bringing her down to our level. However, because she was still a Gorgon, I made it so that she couldn't die by natural causes, I.E. starvation, sleep deprivation, etc. She was now an immortal mortal, meaning she couldn't die from natural causes BUT she could now be killed. I don't know if this makes a lot of sense but this is the best way I can describe it.

Finally, the ending. It only occurred to me when I was writing the build-up to it that I wanted to make it a sort of dark twist on Kagepro's themes of moving on after a loved one's death. Saeru decides to move on after Azami's death but he regarded her as dead years ago and was the one to kill her. I don't know if it worked the way I wanted it to but I tried my best.

I'm happy this didn't take that long unlike another past project of mine and I hope everyone who's read this enjoyed it!

Read on AO3 | Read on DA | Support me on Ko-fi!

The never-ending world, or the Daze as it was now called, had undergone many changes over the years. It was only natural since it was ordered to swallow up any unfortunate souls that were unlucky enough to die on August 15th and the world needed to accommodate for its ever increasing number of occupants. Yet there were some things that never changed, no matter how much time had passed. Absence truly did make the heart grow fonder.

He was in very familiar territory. Casually strolling through the dark woods revealed a large clearing where a small decrepit house stood. The moon’s radiance acted as if it were a spotlight, shining down upon it to let him know she was here. It may be an inferior replica but there was no mistaking it. Saeru was home.

It had been several years since his departure from the Daze. The rest of his siblings were gone, having ventured out to the real world in their human vessels and he couldn’t blame them for leaving. Who’d want to stay in a place where the only company you had was a good-for-nothing has-been of a queen? That’s why he followed the example his four siblings set and escaped when the opportunity presented itself. He really wanted to thank them when he had the chance.

The body he left in was a person by the name of Tateyama Kenjirou. A hardworking teacher and devoted family man, he and Saeru met when he and his wife were caught in a landslide. Saeru promised to bring her back if the man allowed him to reside in his body and he accepted his terms of the bargain. That was how their unlikely partnership began, union between human and snake.

It felt simply amazing to have a body to control. While it had taken him some time to adapt and familiarize himself with human behavior, he nevertheless reveled in it. No longer was he a snake relegated to devising plans. He had the means to carry them out himself and no one would be none the wiser. At least, that’s what he believed before a certain idiotic girl proved him wrong.

He had to give her some credit. Not only did she figure out most of his plan just by reading her father’s research but she learned of his existence all due to a small yet sloppy mistake. If she only applied that amount of effort into her schoolwork, then she wouldn’t have been as stupid as she led herself to believe. There was, however, one thing she didn’t take into account.

She thought killing herself would stop him from going after everyone. What she didn’t think about was the advantage her death would give him. One less person to worry about ruining his plan and she left behind a perfectly traumatized helper. The damn brat was like putty in his hands; a few convincing threats to his precious “family” and a deal with the devil was made.

But then the dear old professor kept butting into his business. There were several times over the past two years where he came out because he wanted to spend some “quality time” with the remainder of his family. There was one instance he could recall in which his plan was almost thwarted but Saeru was able to take back the reins. It was too easy to pull the wool over his partner’s eyes and trick him into thinking he was dreaming. It wasn’t like he was lying to him, he was just using the information he knew about humans to his benefit.

Today was when his plan was truly enacted. All the necessary people had arrived, including his traitorous sibling. Konoha, as they were now called, seemed to have forgotten what the humans did to their real family all those years ago and had allied with them. Their compassion for them had its perks, though. It only took one well-aimed bullet to strike them down, leaving them open for a permanent takeover.

The resulting bloodbath was nothing short of marvelous. Having a body, especially one such as his, meant much more fun and creative ways to play with his toys. Spines breaking as they hit concrete walls and organs hitting the floor with a wet slap was like music to his ears. He even ripped out a pathetic shut-in’s throat with his bare hands just because he could and it was oh so enjoyable to hear him choke on his own blood. Too bad it was over all too soon.

The crybaby brat was left as the sole survivor. He knew what she was capable of and she was the essential component. Yet, he couldn’t help feeling a small sort of kinship with her, which he found funny. He was, in a way, her subject and she his queen but it felt as if they were equals. Perhaps, if he had her powers, he too could rewind time to the point he would’ve taken a different path. To spend more time with the one he loved above all else… That was a dream best left in the past.

He decided to leave her be so she’d be able to mourn her losses. He needed to use the little time he had to take care of unfinished business. He fled from the scene by going through the portal she created in the midst of her despair.

He found himself in what seemed to be a white void. The floor beneath him rippled when his feet touched the surface and he realized he was standing on water. His reflection stared back at him when he cast his eyes downward. The body his sibling graciously gifted to him allowed him to change it however he wanted and he liked the changes he made. A vessel specifically tailored just for him was such a wonderful thing and it was a shame to have to give it up.

A pair of small black horns stuck out of long dark hair tied into a braid. Black scales painted the edges of his face and eyes, trailing down his neck before concealing themselves under the layers of clothes. He kept his red eyes and fangs from when he was a snake so he’d still be recognizable. Blood coated his hands and stained the only article of pristine white clothing he wore, which he hoped would intimidate his prey. She’d never see this coming.

Finding an exit out of the void was simple. All he had to do was take a step and he was in an entirely different place. There were an endless amount of stairs and corridors leading to doors, most of what he could see on fire. The heat was surprisingly pleasant as he wandered around the seemingly limitless labyrinth. It was then he spotted a tangle of black hair with a sliver of red hastily entering one of the doors. With a rush of adrenaline running through his veins, he ran towards the door. It had been so long since he played his favorite game of cat and mouse.

He chased her through many areas of the Daze. One was of a ruined city where the setting sun gave way too many shadows for her to hide in. Another was of an urban landscape, not unlike a major street intersection, where there were dozens of blood splatters decorating the asphalt. It was after he cut across a nighttime city he arrived at his destination.

Mother was inside. The house she and her wretched human “family” lived and laughed in for the few years they stayed there. It was fitting for her and him to settle their issues in the same place their troubles began. She’ll regret leaving behind the ones that truly loved her.

He walked up to the house. Overgrown grass crept over the foundation and ivy crawled all along the flaky walls. There were broken shards of glass inside the windows, which would make it hard for trespassers to sneak in without alerting anyone. Parts of the roof had collapsed inward and the front door was hanging on by a thread. Mother’s really let the place go, hasn’t she?

He stopped just before the door. How did he want to approach this? She had to know he was here so there was no need in being stealthy. He then did the next best thing, which was to kick the door down till he was inside. He smashed through it, reducing it to mere splinters. That was easy.

The room he was in now was the same room he proposed the idea of creating this world to Mother. It was empty, save for a few pieces of overturned furniture scattered about the place and debris from the roof. Moonlight shone down from above, illuminating the room, though it wasn’t necessary. He could see perfectly well in the dark, despite the limitations of his “human” body.

There were two doors that stood in front of him. Beyond them were bedrooms, one being that brat Shion’s and the other Mother’s. It was a coin toss as to which room she was hiding in and he hated wasting time with trivial matters like this. Besides, even if he did end up picking the wrong choice, she wouldn’t get away undetected. His hearing was almost as good as hers and she knew that.

An idea sprang into his mind to try luring her out. He stood at the wall separating the two rooms, wound up his fist, and punched it. The sheer power in the hit caused a crater to form in the wall as dust sprinkled down from the ceiling. He heard something fall from behind the left door and a sharp intake of breath. The corners of his mouth curved up as he tried to fight back a laugh. There she was.

Keeping his excitement in check, he pushed open the door. Inside the room were the remains of a bed with two nightstands on either side of it and an empty window over to the right. He didn’t need the light coming in from a hole in the ceiling to see her. Mother sat in a corner of the room, her whole body shaking.

She hadn’t changed at all. She still had the same cascade of raven hair tied up with a red ribbon, the same black dress. The same red eyes resembling his own were now staring at him in pure fear. It must’ve been quite the shock for her to see Saeru walking around and being able to express his moods in a more effective way. She’d finally know how much and how deep his feelings ran.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it, Mother?” he asked, putting on a fake smile.

When she didn’t respond, he continued on with, “Nothing to say to me? Not even a welcome home? I know the last time we talked was years ago but I thought you’d still have some love in your heart for me. But I guess not.”

She still hadn’t said anything. He was getting rather annoyed at the silent treatment, even if it did bring him a modicum of amusement. Does she really think staying quiet in this situation will save her? Well, he had a way of making her talk and he deserved to brag about his accomplishments.

“If you can’t already tell, I paid a visit to the real world,” he said, noting the sudden pique of interest. “It’s changed so much since our time out there. I’ve met so many interesting people during my trip, including the kids my siblings are inhabiting the bodies of. I even got the chance to meet your successor, what was her name again? Ah, right, Marry.”

He saw the quick flash of anger across her face as she asked, “What did you do to her?”

“You can rest easy,” he replied, his temper beginning to flare up. “I haven’t laid a finger on that crybaby brat’s head. She’s all right, physically, at least.”

It was then her eyes wandered down to his blood-soaked hands. Gone was the anger as horror came to replace it at the grisly sight. He wondered when she’d notice that and he was pleased to know her reaction was how he predicted it to be. Her imagination had to be running wild with all the ways that blood got on his hands. The temptation of telling her his gruesome acts was there but this was more fun.

“Her mind, though, must be forever scarred,” he said with a dissonant smile. “I imagine her heart shattered to pieces after I killed her friends.”

“Why are you doing this?!” she demanded, her teary eyes full of fury. “Why must you hurt me so?”

All the fun he was having at her expense evaporated. Was she being serious? Did she really have the gall to ask why he was doing all this? Maybe it was time to remind her of the fault she held in this.

“I think the better question is, why did you choose them over us? Why did you abandon us?” He crouched down and rested his cheek on his hand.

“What are you talking about? I never abandoned you or your siblings! I tried my best to have the two most important things in my life get along without any issue.” She gestured to him with her hand. “You were the only one who had a problem with it!”

His eyes narrowing, he asked in indignation, “How could you expect me to not have a problem with it? How could you forget all the pain, all the suffering, all the torment the humans dealt on to you? How could you run off with that man and bear his child after everything they’ve done to you?”

It was at this point she stood up. He did as well, noticing the hard glint of stubbornness in her eyes. He already knew what was coming and he didn’t want to hear the same old, tired speech.

“Tsukihiko was different. He was kind to me, he cared for me.” She put a hand on her chest, where her heart was. “He loved me. He was treated the same way I was so---”

“So you thought you and him were the same? Please,” he interrupted, scoffing at the ridiculousness of the thought. “You and that man were never the same and you know why? He was but a mere mortal and you a god. You will never belong with the humans, no matter how much you try and forget that fact.”

“What do you want from me? An apology, is that it?” she asked, exasperated. He wanted much more than empty platitudes.

“What I want is for you to understand exactly how much you’ve hurt me.” He took a couple steps toward her, causing dust to rain down on top of him. “You refused to heed my warnings, took that brat’s side over mine, and you tried to leave me behind in this world. Who does that to someone they once claimed to love? Someone whose only crime was loving them?

“You’ve become the very thing you’ve never wanted to be.” He locked eyes with her and gave voice to all the pain and scorn he felt. “You’re a monster.”

It was as if he stabbed her through the gut with a knife. Tears spilled over as she fell to her knees, holding her head in her hands. It was bad enough for the humans to call her that when they knew nothing about her. It must’ve been like a betrayal to hear that come from someone she once considered to be her closest friend. Still, he got a dark sense of satisfaction seeing her break down. It served her right to feel only a fraction of the pain he’s dealt with for years.

“And yet--” he paused as she looked up at him-- “despite everything you did to me, I still love you. I was created to serve you and be with you for however long you wanted but I grew to genuinely love you. How could I not?”

She withdrew further into the corner after he stepped closer. The question he wanted, needed to ask leapt into his mind. A simple yes or no question and whatever her answer was would determine what he’d do next.

“It’s because of my love for you I ask,” he began, paying close attention to her face, “if you still hold some fondness for the humans. Do you still love your family?”

Without any hesitance in her voice, she replied with, “Of course I do. I’ll always love them. Tsukihiko, Shion, Marry…I love them all from the bottom of my heart.”

That was the answer he feared to hear. Her saying that proved to him she was too far gone and needed to be put out of her misery. They took everything away from her, from her happiness to her sanity. It’s because he loved her he’d be willing to give her the sweet release she deserved.

He started walking towards her. She tried to crawl away from him but found herself cornered with no means of escape. A wicked grin split across his face as he came into the moon’s silvery ray of light. He stopped just short of her, towering above her small, trembling form.

“What are you going to do to me?” she asked, scared for her life. “Whatever it is, I can’t die.”

“Oh, Mother…” He knelt down in front of her and cupped her cheeks. Her scales were smooth to the touch as he wiped away her tears. “You’re right in that you can’t die. But that doesn’t mean you can’t be killed.”

His smile growing ever larger, he said, “You lost your immortality the moment you passed on your crown.”

Her eyes widened in horror as his hands slid down to her neck. He could feel her pulse thudding against his palms, his slender fingers wrapped around her throat. She softly whimpered and he leaned in close. He whispered into her ear his final words before her denouement.

“Goodnight, Mother.”

It wasn’t hard to crush her windpipe. Her nails dug into his arms in a desperate attempt to fight back but he merely brushed them off. He knew she was close to death when her eyes started to roll to the back of her head. Then he had an idea to end this in something more similar to his style.

Her skin began to tear apart as he pulled her head up like a weed. The sound of her neck breaking echoed in the empty house. He finally ripped her head off her shoulders, blood pouring out of the stump as he stood up. Her body slumped onto the floor, the moon’s light reflected off the crimson pool.

Mother’s bright red eyes were now dull and lifeless. Her mouth lolled open and what little saliva she had trickled out of the corners. He could see just a sliver of her vertebrae sticking out of the bottom of her neck. He untied the ribbon holding her hair up, wiped the spit away with his sleeve, and shut her eyes. Her dark tresses felt soft on his skin as he touched their foreheads together.

“We’ll be together forever, right, Mother?” he said with a depraved smile before crazed laughter spilled out of his mouth like a stream.

It was only a matter of waiting now before time was reset. How far back it’d go, he didn’t know. Even if it was as far back to the beginning, he’d remember the events of this loop an do them again. He’d do them again and again to his heart’s content and no one would be able to stop him.

The only thing he wouldn’t commit again was his act of matricide. It was a one time thing and it was done to give him “closure” or whatever the humans called it. Mother warped into someone he didn’t recognize and he needed to accept that the person he knew had died a long time ago. At least he’ll always have his memories of her kept close to his heart.

It was time to look forward and move ahead to the future. Whatever the next summers brought, he was sure to enjoy every last bit.

#airi's writing #snake of clearing eyes #azami #fanfiction #kagerou project #canon divergence #violence tw #gore tw #decapitation tw #major character death tw

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