#ofprevioustimes

[writingsinashes-moved-away]

@ofprevioustimes asked:

“ we’re the only thing standing between this world and its destruction. ” - Eleanor @ Flint

Everything seemed to go in slow motion as Eleanor spoke out, trying to convince him of... something. He should've been paying more attention to her. James knew that, but he couldn't help the times his mind would wander, and he wouldn't feel so weighed down, just lost in thought.

"We? Eleanor, where the fuck did we come from? If I see things straight, it's MY ship in the harbor with MY men taking the punishment and fighting the bastards YOU thought YOU could reason with. If anything, the only thing standing between this world and its destruction is placing me between you and the island.

[mvndrvke]

@ofprevioustimes : unless you have any more questions, i'm going back to work.

"You say that as though I'm disrupting you," Nico says, most certainly disrupting her. "I want to help."

[nectaric]

@ofprevioustimes asked: someone else made these decisions for me. - Helen @ papa Zeus

it is cruel to be king and a father. crueler still to to know that those professions were not just difficult to reconcile - but indeed, at war with one another. to be king was to be just and fair, to be impartial when necessary, to think of the greater good. being a father meant wanting to put your child first every single time, and damn the consequences.

every course of action he could fathom seemed to betray one position or the other, father or king. zeus wished he knew how best to comfort helen, how to help her without scorning his duty.

"decisions are made for all of us. it is an unpleasant fact of life," zeus began slowly, sinking onto the bench beside his daughter with a sad smile. "but you and i share more in common than you think. you see, i had many decisions made for me when i was just an infant. a rebel, a general, and a king, they said. that's what i would be. never mind that i didn't want any of it."

zeus sighed. would that be of any comfort to her? "it all seems to end up the same. our lives pre-determined, manipulated by those greater than ourselves. those decisions all led to the same place - war, and suffering."

it was not wholly the same. zeus knew that - and so did she, he was sure. zeus' path had been moving towards a better world. where had the hope been for helen?

"here is what i do know," zeus continued. "you still have decisions you can make. there is still agency for you, there is still power. you have to claim it. you cannot be afraid. you are my daughter, and just as i found the bravery to forge a new path for myself, so must you."

[storyuntrue]

@ofprevioustimes / continued.

Though   there   is   nothing   entirely   elaborate   about   her   three-sentence-reply,   Matthew   still   needs   a   moment   to   dissect   it   and   find   the   words   to   respond.   “I   wanted   to   refuse   Downton   because   it   made   me   feel   like   the   only   thing   special   about   me   was   my   blood   and   where   it   came   from.”   Going   for   blunt   honesty   might   not   have   been   the   wisest   choice,   but   he   knew   that   he   and   Sybil   in   a   way   were   peas   in   a   pod.   That   she   could   understand   his   point   of   view,   at   least   in   some   matters.   

He   spares   a   glance   over   his   shoulder   to   the   hospital   behind   them,   housing   only   too   many   injured   soldiers.   Some   of   them   are   better   off,   while   the   others   are   counting   their   last   breaths.   A   tale   as   old   as   time   itself;   men   battling   it   out   to   the   death   for   the   greedy   wishes   of   those   in   control.   “I   don’t   believe   it to be so.   But   I   do   believe   that   it’s   starting   a   new   cycle.   Things   will   change   after   the   war,   I   am   sure   of   it.   Hopefully,   they   will   change   for   the   better.”   

[dynastymusesarchive]

@ofprevioustimes​  liked this post for a starter {{aramis&anne}}

❝it is just a scratch your majesty❞  his eyes locked with hers, but quickly looked away. 

[thomashxmilton]

@ofprevioustimes - for Miranda

He had noticed the young woman when she came into the parlor, he knew most people who attended his talks, but he didn’t recognize her. After he spoke and everyone was drinking and partaking in his offered food. She was quite a striking woman, she wasn’t dainty and soft like so many other women that would join their husbands at his parties. 

Walking over towards her, he grabbed a couple of glasses of punch and gave her a soft smile, “good evening, would you like a refreshment?” 

[andessence]

What is the most meaningful memory that Mary has and why is it so?

Mary's most meaningful memory is of the first day that Dr. Kreizler told her about American Sign Language. At that time, she was still institutionalized, in the asylum on Blackwell's Island, and living in a constant state of bleak grief, punishment, and the inability to express herself to or communicate with anyone. The loneliness was acutely painful, and knowing that everyone assumed her a mad and senseless murderer was a source of perpetual misery. She was told one day that there was a visitor in to see her (to her great surprise, given that no member of her family had ever come to see her) and she was introduced to one Laszlo Kreizler, a bright young doctor who had taken an interest in her case. Early sessions with Dr. Kreizler were nearly as bleak as the rest of her time in the institute because even if he seemed to care about her condition, it was just long hours of nodding and shaking her head to statements about the nature of her condition and the inability to communicate anything further. She was still trapped inside her own mind with the thoughts that she could never tell. But the more he saw Mary, the more Dr. Kreizler came to note the absence of symptoms of her diagnosed dementia praecox, and the more curious he became about the truth.

The listless grey of her days was broken through finally when on one visit, Kreizler told her they would try a new activity. The doctor was generally a stolid man, very still while he spoke, but on this day he drew up his hands (yes, even the weak one she noticed he rarely used) and he moved them, making rough signals in the air to accompany his speech. And he said this was a sign language, often used by the deaf who could not speak. He said that they would learn it together, and then she would be able to have a real conversation. While it might have been expected that she be taught the alphabet first, he'd recognized that Mary had never been taught to read or write, and so spelling out words would not work just yet. He showed her the signs [[ My name is M-A-R-Y" ]] and suddenly the interview wasn't just another thing happening to Mary, beyond her control, but something she was taking part in. The fog of distance and isolation lifted and in that first moment when she signed back to him and he answered her with his voice: "Hello Mary, it's good to finally meet you," she felt a world open up that she thought was dead to her. It was the first time in her life that she ever felt she could truly be understood and seen and maybe even helped. They began to practice the foundational signs they would need to start talking: yes, no, stop, I, you, know, don't know, please, think, feel ... father, which she hesitated to repeat. The doctor was only meant to stay for an hour, but when he get up to leave, she signed over and over [[ no, stop. ]] And the incredible thing was that he did. He sat back down, and he bargained with her for another hour before he would absolutely have to go, and Mary was amazed in spite of herself that he listened and did as she asked. Not only could she be understood this way, but she could make things happen — she could change what happened to her, at least with him.

That day is certainly the most important memory Mary has. It changed the course of her life, was the start of her campaign for freedom, and bonded her and the doctor together forever. It was the day she stopped feeling that she was a thing subjected to people's wills, but a person with a way to communicate a will of her own.

[west1rosi]

He   had   thought   marriage   would   reach   him   later   in   life.   Responsabilities   never   lay   with   him   first   for   he   was   not   a   first   son.   And   yet,   here   he   is,   now   with   a   wife   that   had   meant   to   be   his   older   brother,   now   dead.   Catelyn   Tully   was   a   beauty   and   he   does   the   honorable   thing   to   marry   her   for   that's   what   his   family   promised   hers.   She   was   not   meek   and   spoke   openly   and   Ned   found   himself   enjoying   her   way   of   speaking.  

He   can   grow   to   love   her,   if   war   ends   soon.   If   he   returns   home.   "You   must   remain   in   Winterfell,   Cat.   You   know   this."   His   own   sister   was   an   expert   rider   and   practiced   with   all   weapons,   he   is   not   against   a   woman   in   battle   or   a   woman   in   the   fields.   But   the   thought   is   dreadful,   if   they   found   her   and   take   her.   Ed   breathes   in,   his   hands   on   hers.   He   is   not   Brandon,   he   is   not   who   she   was   promised,   but   he   will   do   his   duty   and   love   her   with   everything.   "The   Maesters   think   you   could   be   with   child.   And   if   that   such   a   thing   is   possible,   then   I   need   you   safe."  

A   child   of   a   wedding   night,   not   a   rare   thing,   but   he   can't   help   but   to   offer   a   small   smile.   "I'll   return   to   you   and   if   that's   not   the   case,   then   we   can   keep   on   trying.   Winterfell   would   look   lovely   with   some   of   your   hair   color."   Little   children   running   around   with   auburn   red   hair,   kissed   by   fire.   Yes.   He   can   imagine   himself   growing   old   there,   with   many   children.   And   her.   "Promise   me   you   will   stay."

@ofprevioustimes asked: ❝ by your side is where i'm meant to be. ❞ (cat @ Ned?) in case you didn't know .

[audaciiaearchive]

" use him. but never allow him to use you. " (Mion @ Pyrrhus. Probably about his grandpa lol)

The Serpent & the Wings of Night || Accepting

"I am not worried about Peleus, and you should not be, either. I do not really have any intentions of using him...Phthia is not my concern. I have my kingdom here, and I do think that that is enough."

Pyrrhus shrugs, absently plucking at the lyre in his lap. Helenus has been kind enough to teach him the things he never got to learn as a boy, but he finds himself too preoccupied some days to really focus on it. So he sighs, looking over at Hermione and tilting his head, inviting her to sit down next to him.

"Is there something on your mind, Hermione? You know that you are more than welcome to speak freely to me. I always want to hear what you have to say."

[vyrulent]

starter call || @ofprevioustimes ( helen )

Rare was it that the lord of the Underworld made his appearance within the mortal realm, but curiosity had gathered the best of him. Someone was responsible for the onslaught of visitors to his realm.

Slipping from the shadows, Hades revealed himself with a clearing of his throat before he spoke up, voice graveled.

"So you're the one that's keeping my men working overtime..."

[takesheart]

EACH STEP IS EASIER THAN THE LAST ; THE FEELING OF PEACE FINALLY RUSHING IN . for many days now , perhaps a week , the air has been quieter . no sign of bloodshed or the stench of battle . for this , uhtred is grateful ; though serpent's breath and wasp sting still remain close . he's convinced the rivers will once again run with blood in his own lifetime . hand comes to rest on his sword's hilt , the amber jewel set there , just above the cross hild gifted to him so many years ago now . he misses her but as uhtred reaches the top of the steps , he knows she'll be gazing upon the same sky as he for morning prayers .

THE NIGHT IS LIGHTENING ; THE SUN RISING PINK ON THE HORIZON . a handful of stars remain but uhtred knows they will soon fade . he still wants stiorra to see them , to know them as he does , from the battlements of his hard - won home . BEBBANBURG . he stands , proud as no man has ever been , surveying the lands that have been belonged to him for most of his life . lands that have claimed so many of his dearest friends and loved ones . " daughter , " he begins , hearing footsteps behind but not turning to see if it is , indeed , stiorra approaching as he bade . " come . stand beside me . survey the land that will , one day , be yours . "

starter for stiorra ; @ofprevioustimes

[mvndrvke]

@ofprevioustimes : i sleep better when you're next to me. ( Helen @ Menelaus)

It's been odd since Helen's returned, but Menelaus is glad that they're not estranged as he worried they might be. They've had distance before, of course-- any couple has-- but it's not a distance that lasts when they're reunited.

He rolls over when she speaks, brows slightly furrowed as he looks at her. "I do too," he murmurs. He wraps an arm around her waist so he can pull her closer, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. "I missed this."

[nectaric]

@ofprevioustimes liked !

zeus paced the length of the balcony, thunder clouds brewing in the distance. he had half a mind to barge into the room and demand answers immediately, his worry eating away at him like mice. only, before zeus could make the decision, the doors to leda's room opened, and she was the one who walked out to greet him.

uninjured. walking. alive and well.

"are you alright?" zeus demanded, taking three large steps to meet her. he tugged her into an embrace, breathing deeply. "i heard something terrible had happened, and i came as quickly as i could."

a rumour. perhaps that was all this had been. still, zeus would take no chances. "please tell me you are going to be fine."

[storiesofthenight]

@ofprevioustimes liked for a short starter. [Verse info.]

Being back in King’s Landing was weird after all this time. In a sense, it all looked familiar, and yet … everything was different. Perhaps with time, his memories would help him find his way around again, but right now, he was simply disoriented. He had just undergone a thorough check-up by the Maesters and was now seated outside with a plate of lemoncakes  before him, feeling out of place in his own home. Reaching out for one of the cakes, he took a bite and let out a soft sigh, still unable to believe that he was back home.

[kallistcs]

@ofprevioustimes asked:

[sent: 10:03 AM] I don't care what you say.

[sent: 10:03 AM] I am not joining you on TikTok.

But Helen 🥺 You don't even have to do anything! No more than you usually do, when you've appeared. The mystery of it adds a certain flair, I think 🥰

[storyuntrue]

𝑻𝒉𝒆   𝒘𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔   𝒊𝒏   𝒉𝒊𝒔   𝒃𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔   𝒘𝒂𝒔   𝒐𝒍𝒅,   settled   in   so   deeply   that   it   ached;      a   dull   pain   throbbing   within   with   every   passing   day.   Of   course,   it   paled   in   comparison   to   the   fury   he   felt   inside.   Miranda’s   death   and   now   Silver   too. . .   It   seemed   like   the   world   or   God   or   whatever   could   was   mocking   him,   taking   away   people   that   were   detrimental,   making   it   all   the   harder   for   him   to   get   to   the   end   goal.   The   worrisome   part,   however,   was   that   slowly,   but   tirelessly   that   feeling   of   exhaustion   overtook   his   anger.   And   that,   in   itself,   was   not   something   that   will   aid   them   in   their   fight   with   civilization.   

    “We’ll   have   to   sacrifice   so   much   more   if   we   want   to   see   this   through.”   Flint   argues   despite   meaning   to,   slowly   shaking   his   head.   A   pad   of   his   finger   runs   over   his   lower   lip;   he   has   to   wonder   at   himself,   why   was   he   discouraging   Madi   from   finishing   this.   Why   was   he   taking   the   stance   of   surrender?   Surrendering   then   and   there   would   be   a   waste   of   so   many   lives   lost,   so   many   battles   won.   It   shouldn’t   be   an   option   in   his   mind,   even   that   voice   in   the   back   of   his   mind   should   stay   silent   as   a   grave.   And   yet.   “Are   you   ready   to   give   up   all   that   this   war   will   inevitably   demand?”

@ofprevioustimes ( cont. )