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drunk-on-dk · 2 years

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All I Think About | Choi Seungcheol (m)

✦pairing: fwb!Seungcheol x afab reader ✦genre: smut (minors DNI), a lil bit of fluff and angst ig

✦warnings: teasing, a lil bit of jealousy, emotional constipation, grinding on the thigh, fingering, unprotected sex (pls wear protection), edging, calls the reader a slut, a lil degradation then, rough sex woohoo, kissing on the neck, anyways minors pls do not interact with this thank you. ✦wc: ~3.6K AN: Hi all, this is my first smut/fic post on this Tumblr. I haven't been on this platform in a while, so I apologize as I'm still getting used to it and trying to get more interactive. Otherwise, I just wanted to bite the bullet and get my first writing out on here, it probably could use a little bit more proofreading, but I'm pretty happy with it otherwise. I was heavily inspired by that Enhypen Foreshadow and Taylor Swift Style remix (IYKYK), and played a good bit off of Style for fun. Let me know what you think, and I hope you enjoy (;

Seungcheol pulled up to your place tonight with no headlights, sending you a text that he arrived and that he was waiting outside in his car. You snuck down the staircase, praying your roommates wouldn’t hear you as you trekked quietly to the front door.

They’d absolutely kill you if they knew you were meeting up with him after you had just spent the last week spiraling over a recent post you saw of him. He was out and about in a club with a group of girls in the class below you. All night, his group of friends and him had been posting belligerent stories of them dancing and drinking with the girls. In the background of one story specifically, he had his arm wrapped around a pretty girl, a gummy smile adorning his face as she leaned over to whisper something in his ear. This had sent you into a week-long spiral, locking yourself in your room only to leave for lectures as necessary and the occasional meal.

However, you had no right to be jealous, and you knew damn well that you didn’t. Seungcheol and you had been best friends for years now, recently becoming friends with benefits the past couple of months after a night of drunken neediness and passion. Both of you had decided to continue the shenanigans since it felt good to let off the steam together, and it just felt so right. Your frequent hangouts becoming much more than the study sessions and casual movie nights. You found yourself becoming addicted to his touch, his scent, his lips; you could go on and on about how he drove you wild in such a different way than before.

You knew you were headed towards rock bottom one night. Your heart fluttered a little faster than normal when he looked softly into your eyes, kissing you with passion as always, hands roaming, and whispering sweet nothings. You thought maybe he felt it too, maybe you should express how you felt, that this was becoming much more than friends with benefits to you. But you were too emotionally constipated to ever say anything and feared the worst. You pushed him away that night, cutting things off abruptly, and escorting him out of your house.

Resultingly, you hadn’t spoken for a month up until now due to how things had ended. It had been a while since either of you had heard from each other, giving you both the space that you needed. However, tonight he had texted you out of the blue, asking what you were doing and if he could come pick you up. You almost jumped out of your bed in giddiness, only for it to die down realizing exactly what he was seeking. Of course, you obliged still, agreeing to meet with him but only on the terms that it had to be on the down low. He knew that your roommates weren’t the biggest fan of him, as they had been his friends too, always encouraging him to speak to you about how he truly felt. He knew he had disappointed them the day after you had kicked him out, your closest roommate eyeing him down as she crossed paths with him on campus.

You shook your head staring at the brief text chain between you and Seungcheol, ashamed of what you two have become. You never thought you’d lose a friend like this, nor that you would ever agree to a midnight booty call in advance. Of course, you were still excited to be reunited with Seungcheol, excitement bubbling in your stomach at the thought of seeing him again. You couldn’t deny that you yearned for his touch, but even more so yearned to hear his laugh again or to be the one to make him smile. You had to hold yourself back from skipping towards the passenger side of his car, trying to remain as indifferent as possible as you opened the door only to see his annoyingly handsome face again.

Seungcheol pulled out of your driveway, turning on his headlights as he drove out of the neighborhood. The air in the car was thick with tension, quiet music playing in the background as you both avoided being the first person to initiate conversation. You kept your attention ahead of you, only focusing on the cars passing by and noting the similar landmarks that you usually passed along the way to Seungcheol’s place. In comparison, Seungcheol couldn’t keep his eyes off you, you felt his gaze shifting towards you every so often, which made you suppress your blush just in case he could see it. If you weren’t being so stubborn, you would have giggled and scolded him to keep his eyes on the road. However, you couldn’t acknowledge the way you felt his eyes burning into you tonight, too scared to spark the conversation first.

Upon arriving at Seungcheol’s place, he quickly turned off the engine and jogged around to open the passenger door for you. You gave him a shy smile to say thank you. His hand gently brushed your lower back as he guided you towards the front door in silence, sending shivers down your spine feeling electrified by his touch. He only took his hand off your back to shuffle in front of you to unlock his front door.

You took advantage of his back facing you, allowing yourself to analyze his figure for the first time tonight. You so badly wanted to run your hands over his broad shoulders or through his thick black hair. It had been slicked back after he kept running a nervous hand through it during the drive, which was something you noticed in addition to his burning eyes. His bright, thick lips were in a pout as he scrambled with his keys.

Seungcheol finally unlocks his front door, holding it open for you and beckoning you to enter before him. The entryway was pitch black; the only light being provided by the moonlight shining through the windows. You both shuffled around in silence, removing your coats and shoes, his hand once again brushing you gently as he reaches for you.

This is when you lost it, shying away from him as your voice betrayed you, letting out what sounded like a whimper, “Don’t you have some other girl to fuck around with now, Seungcheol?”

You can hear him scoff, his hands now grabbing both your arms and slowly leading you back against the wall. “Why do you think that, Y/N?” He’s got you right where he wants you, the soft lighting from the moon illuminating your face so that he can see his effect on you. The light bounces off the wall behind you, allowing you to better see his features as he stares incredulously back at you.

“I s-saw it on Jeonghan’s story, you’ve been hanging out with all those girls lately,” you stutter out and it looks like a lightbulb goes off in his head. You refrain from banging your head back into the wall, feeling incredibly exposed and silly for ever saying anything to your friend. “J-Just thought… thought that maybe you were talking to one of them.”

He lets out a soft laugh, one of the hands that had caged you against the wall wanders up to your cheek to cup it. You try not to lean into his touch, but you can’t help it. His rough thumb caresses your skin so softly that the gentle touch sends heat right down to your core.

“Well, that may be true,” he sighs, and you feel your heart sink a bit. You begin to realize that this is a mistake, squirming to push him away once again. Instead, he shocks you by dipping down to your neck, scattering hot kisses from your ear to your jaw. Hot breath once again tickles your ear, his hands roaming all over your body as you try not to buck your hips into him. “They don’t drive me crazy like you do, I can’t get you out of my mind, Y/N.”

You let out another whimper at his statement, allowing him to continue caressing your body and finally giving in to him. You can feel his smirk pressing into your neck. It’s almost as if he’s trying to feel your pulse through the way he presses his lips against you, relishing in how your heartbeat quickens at his confession as he starts to pepper more kisses along your sensitive spots. You can’t hold back anymore, hands desperately gripping at his shirt as he begins to nip and suck on your neck with new fervor.

Breathing out heavily, you confess, “fuck, Seungcheol, I can’t get you out of my mind either. I missed this, I missed you,” you moan as his teeth graze your jaw, “I missed us.” A confession you hadn’t meant to make, but so be it.

“Same here, baby,” Seungcheol almost growled, this time attaching your lips to his in a heated kiss. You both kissed like you had been starving for one another, his mouth capturing your soft moans and whines with his as you battled for dominance. Your hands made your way to his hair, pulling at the strands as he lets out a groan that has your knees going weak.

Seungcheol notices this, slotting a thigh between your legs as you become needier for his touch. He has you fully pressed up against the wall now, his tongue battling with yours as he lets out soft curses between hot kisses. Your heated core is now pressed up against his thigh, his hands running down your waist to latch onto your hips to help guide you as you grind against him. You moan in relief, his thigh feels so good against your center that you’re almost certain you’ll come undone right then and there.

Your movements get more and more desperate, making Seungcheol’s grasp on your hips a lot firmer than before to forcefully stop your motions. “Why’d you do that, Cheol,” you almost cry out as the high that you’d been chasing slowly ebbed away from your core.

“You don’t get to cum unless I say so,” he spits out as he forcefully grasps your face in one hand. The other hand traveled down to press against your folds through the thin layer of underwear beneath your skirt. The pressure of his hand sent a shock wave of pleasure through you even though you had just been denied an orgasm. “You know what, actually, you don’t get to cum unless you're cumming around my cock.”

Seungcheol lifts you up, throwing you over his shoulder as he carries you to the bedroom. Unceremoniously, he throws you down onto the bed and begins pulling all garments off your body. He litters kisses all over your exposed skin, wasting no time whatsoever as he yanks your bra off and immediately attaches his lips to your nipple. You attempt to fumble with his belt as he pushes you down onto his bed, and he pulls away from you to only pull his shirt off his body. Taking this time as he hovers above you on his knees, he tsks staring down at you in awe, and runs two fingers across your folds, “so beautiful for me, baby. Always so needy for me, look how fucking wet you are just from grinding against my thigh.”

You let out a moan as he sinks both fingers into your seeping core, covering your mouth to absorb your screams into his own. He’s not taking it easy on you as he begins fucking his fingers into you slowly, teasingly, and eventually increases to a brutal pace. He rips your hand away from your mouth, holding it above your head as he continues fingering you, his fingers curling into you and hitting the exact spot that he knows makes you crumble. “Don’t hold back, let me hear you cry out for me.”

You’re breathing heavily as he continues his ministrations, his thumb coming up to rub your clit which earns a scream in between your bated breaths. He feels your walls tightening around his fingers, and he knows your body too well. He can tell by the way your legs threaten to snap shut, using his shoulder to keep them open as he pushes you as close as he can towards the edge. You can feel the pleasure building up again, the pit of arousal in your stomach feeling as if it’s ready to explode as your hips chase the high caused by his fingers.

To your dismay, he pulls out from between your folds, and you’re quick to start begging, “Cheol, pl-please, you were making me feel so good.” He’s quick to shut you up, shoving his fingers right into your mouth.

“Remember what I said, pretty girl?” He hums, keeping his fingers in your mouth as you suck pathetically on them, you nod knowing the exact instructions he gave you earlier. “I said you only get to cum around my cock.”

He pulls his fingers away, messily leaving traces of wetness around your lips, and he can’t help but pull you back in for another heated kiss. He tastes yourself on your lips, and it drives him crazy, grinding his hips right into yours. He finally gives in as you successfully unbuckle his belt this time, helping him shuffle out of his jeans and boxers whilst never letting his lips leave yours. Once his pants are finally off, you reach for his cock, and it already feels hot and heavy in your hand. His size still excited you to this day, his length feeling so big in your tiny hand as you begin to jerk him off using the bit of precum from his tip.

Breathlessly, Seungcheol breaks away from the kiss, lips wandering down your neck to your chest and back to your nipples. He’s groaning against your chest as he sucks on one mound, the other hand coming up to play with the other.

“So big, Cheol, can’t wait for you to fill me up,” you cry out as he sucks extra hard at your nipple, pinching the other one harshly. “It’s all I think about, is you filling me up so good.” Your hand continues to work at his hard length, but he doesn’t allow you to do so for much longer, muttering something about how he won’t last long if you continue touching him like that.

He pulls away to line up with you, his tip teasing your entrance as he looks at you with the softest eyes of the night, “still clean for you, baby, wouldn’t ever think of fucking anyone else but you. Am I crossing a line saying that? All I can think about is fucking you.”

Moaning out, you wrap your legs around him encouraging him, “please, please just do it already.” He slides into you, your warm walls immediately taking him in as if he was made specifically for you. He groans at how tight you feel around him, swearing that he’ll never get sick of how you clench around him every time. You’re both a moaning mess, your nails digging crescent moons into his back as he fills you up completely.

He starts thrusting into you, your legs tightening around him to keep him from teasing you as he pulls his length slowly in and out of you. “So warm and tight, baby. I won’t go anywhere, don’t worry.” His body is now pressed down against yours, your legs pulling him as close as you can as he grinds into you, and his arms next to your head are the only thing holding his full weight from you.

Your legs are already shaking by the time he begins to pick up his pace, the friction of his movement against your clit sending you into madness as he thrusts in and out of you. His lips work at your neck, leaving love bites all along the skin as he whispers curses and dirty words into them.

“Please, fuck me harder,” you begin to cry out, the intense pleasure building up in your core for the final time tonight as your hips start to chase his to pick up the speed, “I can’t take it anymore, Cheol, please just fuck me harder, I need it.”

He’s encouraged by your begging, grabbing your legs and pulling them over his shoulders to get a better angle on you. He doesn’t wait, immediately fucking you harder and faster than before. “Does my little Y/N like that?” He antagonizes between heavy breaths, his pace not faltering as he brings a thumb to your clit. “Who would have thought my best friend was so dirty, such a fucking slut for me, baby.”

“I’m your slut, Cheol, all yours.” You cry out as he keeps up his pace, his cock pounding into you relentlessly as his thumb works at your most sensitive spot. You’re moaning out, tears almost falling from your eyes at the brutal way his hips slam into yours, the pleasure only getting more intense with each thrust.

He knows you’re ready to cum, feeling the way your walls get impossibly tighter around him and at the way your legs begin to shake on his shoulders. You’re crying out at each thrust, only egging him on as he’s starting to reach his end himself.

“Please, let me cum,” you’re screaming, reaching out for his hand that’s working at your clit, the pleasure almost feeling too intense as you try to refrain from cumming without his permission.

Seungcheol continues fucking into you as you beg, keeping the relentless pace until he no longer can hold back himself. “Cum with me, baby,” he’s groaning, as he snaps his hips into yours in such a pleasurable way, you’re immediately milking his cock for all it’s worth. His release follows yours, painting your walls with the white, hot liquid. Yours spasming around him, and he can’t help but give you a few extra leisurely thrusts to work you through your entire orgasm, even if it overstimulates him.

Pulling out of you, he watches as his cum drips from between your folds. It’s a beautiful sight, but not as beautiful as the smile you give him when he finally makes eye contact with you. He curses himself for ever letting you two get this way, curses himself for not fighting you the day you pushed him out of your house, and curses himself for never saying how he truly felt.

Before Seungcheol can utter a word, you’re popping up from the bed and sauntering over to the bathroom to clean up. He takes this time to clean himself up and compose his thoughts. This wasn’t just a booty call for him, he truly did want to reconcile your friendship, or propose even more than that. You truly were all he thought about.

Little does he know, you’re in the bathroom in the same predicament. This night only makes you realize you can’t go much longer without Seungcheol back in your life, even if that means that tonight was the last time you two would ever hook up. You needed to tell him that he can’t play with your heart anymore, that you should either go back to just being friends or figure out what your relationship is.

When you walk out of the bathroom back into his room, you’re both ready to speak your minds as Seungcheol and you begin your sentences.

He lets out a laugh, “go ahead, you first, Y/N.”

You shake your head, signaling that he should go first, “no, no, I’d like to hear what you have to say.” He smiles as you make your way over to him on the bed. He’s laying back on the headboard, his hair messy as he follows your figure with endearing eyes. He’s so cuddly yet fucked out at the same time, that you can’t believe he can look so cute and hot all at once. The temptation to curl up next to him is extremely dangerous, so you keep your distance as you sit down next to him on the bed.

Sighing, Seungcheol finally begins to spill out how hard the past month had been without you in his everyday routine. He rambles on and on as you listen to your best friend turned lover confess his feelings about you. “I truly do think of you, every second of every day, Y/N. I don’t know how it happened, and I don’t know why it took so long for me to realize it. I can’t believe the fact that you kicked me out of your place that one night actually sent me into a downward spiral. I’m sick of us not talking, not going to each other for comfort, and not being friends anymore. However, I’ve realized you are so much more to me than just a friend, and especially more than a friend with benefits. Please, just let me know if I’m making you uncomfortable by confessing all this, I just am going crazy thinking about you all the time-“

You cut him off, rushing across the bed to press your lips to his in a hard kiss. He looks up at you with shock as you pull away, beginning to mutter out another word but you hush him. “Shut up, Cheol. I feel the same way, can’t ever stop thinking about you. I only kicked you out that day since I was so freaked out by my feelings. Clearly, I feel the same way since I almost lost it when seeing you with that girl on Jeonghan’s story last week.”

You both let out a laugh as he pulls you in for another kiss, pulling you into his arms and never letting you go for the night. “Stay with me tonight, Y/N. Stay with me for as long as you'd like.”

“Of course,” you smile up at him, and for the first time, you’re not frightened by the soft look in his eyes. “As long as you take me out on a real date tomorrow.”

There’s the gummy smile that you yearned to see, Seungcheol smiles down at you and promises you all the dates and more for as long as he can. “Believe me, it’s all I can think about, baby.”

#svthub #scoups smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #seungcheol smut #fwb au #choi seungcheol smut

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therainscene · 1 year

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Will Byers: Be gay do crime, amirite?

Growing up means putting away childish things, choosing between marrying a woman or remaining celibate, becoming a wage slave with no free time, and accepting that this is how life works.

Fuck that!

Will would rather spend his time doing things he actually enjoys with the people he loves, and if he has to break some of society’s rules to do so... well, clearly the rules were bullshit to begin with and deserve to be broken.

But the spark of defiance we see in the van is a smoldering ember compared to the fire of S3.

Will jokes about Vegas and D&D, but that’s all it is -- a joke. Getting to spend the rest of his life with Mike has begun to feel like a silly fantasy, akin to using superpowers to commit fraud as a minor.

It doesn’t occur to him that Mike’s cries for help could be because he wants to escape comphet, not be pushed further into it. He weeps quietly over his self-inflicted heartache, back turned and mouth smothered, like there’s something unreasonable about his feelings.

What happened to the brazenly authentic boy who openly admitted that he expected to spend his life with Mike? Where’s the offended boy who called Mike out on his performative heterosexuality? The furious boy who screamed and sobbed and swore as he felt society’s homophobic standards closing in on him with all the inevitability of growing older?

Will is authentic and headstrong, but even he is getting slowly crushed under the boot of forced conformity.

Some of the GA think this is an acceptable outcome; just an inevitable part of growing up gay in the 80s. It’s realistic and relatable. Great queer rep!

Others decide that Will should become a villain -- after all, hasn’t he earned the right? The narrative has done nothing but torture him, so doesn’t he deserve to go a little apeshit? As a treat?

Henry Creel: Be gay do crime, amirite?

Henry is scathingly critical of society’s rules. He refuses to compromise his true nature by playing along, and no amount of punishment can force him to change.

His backstory is presented in a way that makes it difficult to sympathize with him -- I mean, ok, maybe he didn’t deserve to be jailed and tortured when he was just a child, but surely the Soteria was necessary, right? He’s dangerous.

But the real threat that Henry poses isn’t his willingness to kill -- it’s the power he has to rewrite the rules. And both he and his oppressors know it.

By locking him up (forcing him into the closet), torturing him (subjecting him to homophobia), and implanting him with Soteria (castrating him), they stripped him of agency and reduced his options to a rock and a hard place:

Continue suffering in obedient silence.

Go apeshit and commit whatever atrocities are necessary to escape. Embrace his role as the villain in a story where people like him aren’t allowed to be the heroes anyway.

(Hmm, those are same options that Will is expected to choose from. What an interesting yet surely meaningless coincidence.)

The tragedy of Henry’s story is that he did end up conforming to the rules in the end.

He didn’t choose the option his oppressors would have preferred, but he did choose an acceptable one -- he became the monster they’d already branded him as. Once upon a time his fellow outcasts might have gladly allied with him, but now they’re forced to stop him.

I love the symbolism of this shot. El’s rainbow is larger and pushes Henry back, while his is upside down, foreshadowing how the battle is going to end -- but more than that, it symbolizes their approaches in battle.

The motivation that Henry is using comes from the same place as El’s -- a desire for self-preservation, to defy authority, to fight for the rights of fellow outcasts -- but his has been twisted. He advises her to use a memory of injustice that makes her feel angry and sad...

...and while it’s very effective, it’s not enough. It isn’t until she thinks of a memory that makes her feel loved that she’s able to gain the upper hand.

Interestingly, the lights surge around her as she does this, bathing her in an ethereal white glow:

It fits the symbolism of the rainbow room perfectly -- after all, what is white light if not a focused rainbow?

But more importantly: where have we seen this before?

Will Byers carries the light with him wherever he goes, because he has the benefit of something Henry was cruelly robbed of: the unconditional love and acceptance of his family and friends, which helped hinder society’s efforts to crush the authenticity out of him.

So why should Will suffer the same fate as Henry? What’s stopping him from being the hero and earning the happy ending he wants, instead of the tragic ending homophobes expect him to settle for?

Like Henry, Will has the power to rewrite the rules -- and this time, they’re actually going to be rewritten.

#stranger things #will has powers #byler #will byers #henry creel #el hopper #my analysis

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akatsuki-shin · 5 months

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[REVIEW] スロウ・ダメージ Slow Damage

Just finished marathoning this game to get all the endings and that was a blast!

It's been a while since I last posted a review of anything, so here goes~ ^^

Note(s):

Long post ahead, may contain spoilers

This review is written by someone who is familiar with all of Nitro+Chiral's previously released BL Visual Novels (so I may make remarks on their comparison here and there)

This is my personal review; my opinion does not represent the entire audience and players of the game

SUMMARY:

In the Year 20XX, the nation of Japan has been rapidly declining to rock-bottom in the past decade, leading to a significant spike in poverty, unemployment, and crime rate.

Once known as a thriving Tokyo Waterfront City, the special administrative region of Shinkoumi fell into the hands of the yakuza Takasato Group, who ruled the city like a nation of their own.

Here lives Towa, an indolent, hedonistic young man with seemingly no goal or ambition in life. Day by day, he wastes himself away in smoke, alcohol, and — sometimes — violent sex with peers and strangers alike whenever he feels like it.

However, few knows of his true identity as "Euphoria," a genius artist known for his prominent paintings that perfectly captures a human's deepest, darkest desire.

STORY: 7/10

With 2 (two) default routes, 1 (one) locked route, and 1 (one) True Ending route, Slow Damage is different from the previous 4 (four) BL Visual Novels that has been released by Nitro+Chiral thus far, in which there is neither adventure or "greater plot" that needs to be resolved as the main body of the story.

In the previous games, we can say that the general plot overall does not change much regardless of which route we takes, save for a few in-depth details that can only be obtained in the True Ending route. For example, when playing DRAMAtical Murder, Toue will still be defeated and the Platinum Jail will still go down no matter which character's route you decide to take.

Slow Damage, however, is a game where you unravel a "puzzle" named Towa.

No route can stand on its own; you need to play all 4 (four) available routes in order to fully understand everything. There is no particular "grand goal." Maybe you'll solve someone's problem in one route, maybe you'll take down the yakuza in the other route.

The 2 (two) default routes will present you the Towa as "it is," according to your first impression on him, where he helps solve the respective Love Interest's problem by diving into their mind and unravel their inner "wounds." The locked route will dig halfway to Towa's past to show a little bit more about him prior to his current life.

But eventually, you will only be able to understand him, why he looks and acts like that, why he does the thing he does, after completing the True Ending route.

Depending on your expectation before playing the game, you may or may not be disappointed after discovering the full story. Personally speaking, I was a bit disappointed at first because I thought the plot is superficial and doesn't touch on any major subject regarding the universe where the story takes place. In the end, however, I think it's a quite solid and complete story, albeit taking a different spin from the previous games.

The plot is deep and detailed; it can really deliver some very heavy emotional issues, as well as presenting the fun and romantic sides. I personally feel the plot twists and revelations obtained in the True Ending is very cleverly wrapped. There are many small, miss-able things in the other routes that will only be explained in the True Ending.

Furthermore, if I have any complains about the previous games, it is that they tend to drop an "info dump" at some point in the story. Fortunately for me, Slow Damage is very good at distributing the information through dialogues, narration, and dividing them between scenes.

A few "minus" points from me, though...

There are some important things that do not have enough foreshadowing in the front, but suddenly becomes extremely significant in the latter part of the story. For example:

Towa and Fujieda's real names. There are no hint leading to this at all from the beginning and it doesn't really give any impact whatsoever to the whole story, either. But for some reason, the story-telling makes it look as if it is very important.

Although Fujieda himself as a character appear briefly in the other 3 (three) routes, there is next to no hints at all that connect him with Towa prior to the True Ending route. Sure, his little sister appeared in Towa's dream before, but the story-telling doesn't connect it with Fujieda before we unlock his route. Personally-speaking, while the True Ending route is overall very satisfying for me, I still feel some disconnection with Fujieda's background and motivation in the story.

Speaking of "disconnection," this is especially true for Madarame's route.

Before, when playing the default routes (Rei and Taku), we are already used to the indolent, lazy Towa and his occasional self-harming habits whenever he's craving stimulations. But in Madarame's route, you are suddenly being shoved in the face with stories about Towa's past with him out of the blue, forcing you to accept that Towa does not used to be like that.

While the latter part of Madarame's route until the ending is neatly put together, I cannot help but still feel that he is a stranger who suddenly barges into the main plot and forcefully diverts the direction of the story for no reason. It's like a skyscraper that looks majestic from the outside but actually has shallow foundation below.

I also feel that Taku's route has a massive plot hole because even though Taku is supposed to know Towa from when he was still a child, very little details are revealed in his route. Perhaps it's so that it won't clash with the secrets known only in the True Ending, but it makes Taku's route feel somewhat lackluster (especially since Towa isn't questioning about his past at all during this route).

And last but not least, I think this is the first time I'm playing a Visual Novel where you can't exactly call the endings as "Good" or "Bad."

Certainly, in the True Ending route, it's obvious to see whether the ending you get is "Good" or "Bad." But other than that, the term "Euphoria" and "Madness" ending just fit the theme so well because as f*cked up as the "Madness" ending is, Towa as the main character doesn't feel it's bad because he's simply that unhinged of a character.

CHARACTER: 10/10

Towa's character development until the very end is simply amazing. It is especially heartbreaking to see him crumble as he gradually draws closer and closer to the truth about his past. Likewise, it feels fulfilling to see him finally getting the true happy ending with a kindred soul who shares his pain.

Furthermore, as much as I'm glad that he finally finds the closure and salvation that he so deserves, I'm particularly happy that we are allowed to get a glimpse at how his sociopath mother truly felt back then. While it cannot, in any way, be used to condone what she had done to Towa and her other victims, it shows the ironic difference between her life and Towa:

Towa has friends that care about him, hence helping him to settle down and eventually come to terms with his issues. His mother, however, was a lonely soul with no one who could help her address her issues until the very end.

Putting aside my earlier "complains" about Madarame and Taku's routes, the dynamic between Towa and his Love Interests are interesting to follow because each has a unique and different approach to it. The way their romance blooms is like a refreshing breeze amidst the story full of heavy emotional and psychological traumas.

The side characters have very solid personalities and fit perfectly into the main plot with their respective roles. Truthfully, I can't really find anything to complain about regarding the characters.

GAMEPLAY: 10/10

Almost a decade after DRAMAtical Murder was released, Nitro+Chiral has really kicked up their game's quality by a whole notch.

The "Interrogation" and "Exploration" makes it super different from your traditional Visual Novel games where most of the time, the choices can be rather predictable.

Of course, I also love how the game's visual appearance change significantly before and after finishing the True Ending. The interface is pretty to look at and suits the story's theme perfectly.

ART/VISUAL: 9/10

This is probably the best-looking Visual Novel from Nitro+Chiral I've ever played.

Opinions on the art style may differ between each person, but I think we can all agree that they really pay attention to the details. Especially for major characters like Towa, even the location and degree of his injuries vary in his avatars following the situation currently taking place in the plot.

I also can't believe how detailed they draw the background, food, drinks, and objects that appear in the CGs.

That said, I feel like for a city that is described as "you can easily stumble on dead people on the street," the background art is way too pretty and clean, it doesn't really look like a declining city at all where people can die from cold and hunger.

MUSIC: 10/10

Likewise, I personally feel Slow Damage has the best music compared to the other 4 (four) games before.

The BGMs are not boring; it can really build up the atmosphere and makes you feel the tension presented on the screen.

I am especially fond of the music during romantic scene. If I have to put it into words, it gives the NSFW scenes a dash of fluff on top of the sexy that you can't help but melt with him.

SUMMARY: 9.2/10

As different as it is from the previous games released by Nitro+Chiral, Slow Damage certainly does not disappoint although there is quite a gap until this game was finally released. It's really worth the wait, and it can easily wrap you emotionally while you're playing through the story.

Furthermore, I think the current generation, especially the millennials, can really relate to the setting of which the game is taking place. Maybe not to that extreme, but the way the young generation in the game is described as overworked, exhausted, and depressed is truly a reflection of life nowadays for us. :')

I look forward to replaying this game again some other day, now that I already get all the secrets they have to offer. Perhaps it will give a different experience. <3

P.S. This isn't about the game but more about the translation/localization. I wish English publishers will pay more attention to the expressions and nuances in the original language when translating instead of just throwing whatever words that fit.

For example, in Rei's route, he says "抱きたい" which means "I want to embrace you," but they just translated it into "I want to f*ck you."

Sure, "embrace" and "f*ck" would lead to the same result, but that's not the way he was saying it. Those two words bear two completely different feelings, and this is just one among numerous other issues with the official translations.

#Slow Damage #SuroDame #スロウ・ダメージ #スロダメ #スロウダメージ #nitro+chiral #visual novel #Review

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theultim · 8 months

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I love Knuckles. Not Boom Knuckles. No. I lock Boom Knuckles into the abyss of my mind since it kinda deletes what makes Knuckles... Knuckles. (AKA Awesome) His story; They MENTION IT, but it's like completely removed from who he is and it's like. :( He just became a very stereotypical guy, much like the other characters for that show. But I think it hurt Knuckles the most.

Sonic Prime spoilers if you haven't watched it below. (Specifically the end of Season 1)

I do LOVE the Sonic Prime versions of him. Especially Knuckles the Dread. He doesn't have anything to protect, so he becomes self-indulgent as a treasure hunter and it GETS TO HIM. The thing he's been seeking changes from a fun pastime/passion to an obsession.

His priorities shift from caring about his crew to ENSURING that he gets the shard the closer he gets to finally having it. He actively looks out for opportunities to get the shard, no matter what it takes.

I need to backtrack a LOT real quick.

In S1 EP7 we get introduced to No Place, the reality of a sunken Green Hill and little to no land left to see.

Although Black Rose, Batten Rouge, and Sails weren't the kindest to Sonic upon initial encounter (Possibly due to living too peaceful of a life on the sea), he seemed to prove himself to them by being a valuable asset for his speed.

Dread by this point seems extremely passive, only showing signs of aggression whenever his crew speaks about his past.

Something seems to happen to Dread whenever he holds the shard in high priority. He got the name for a reason, BECAUSE he was so obsessed with getting the shard. "Dread" comes from what he's trying to isolate himself from, which makes this nickname of his corny.

Possibly as a warning to whoever he's against about the "Dread" that will come. But it was also foreshadowing for the "Dread" he will bring unto himself.

He lost his crew, he lost his ship. He lost everything he worked for all in one moment, because of his desire to get the shard.

So he physically distanced himself and his crew from ever getting to it. I get the feeling they only really joined Dread because he's Dread, the most feared pirate on the seas. Why wouldn't you side with someone as menacing as that?

Just for their expectations to be let down to rock bottom. All he does now is sail, cower, party, avoid combat. His crew is left actively seeking out more when they're not under his watch.

His crew his violent by nature. And he doesn't indulge in it whatsoever. Until Sonic comes around.

Sonics an outlier in every single dimension he visits. There's nowhere he belongs in. He continues to believe that these are just his friends and they're not all too different from each other.

Dread gives a warm welcome in comparison. In fact, he doesn't put up a fight when his own crew decides that Sonic is a better leader when he fights back against a raid. He tells Sonic his story, and they resolve to go after the shard. This is when it starts.

Sonic is better in combat than actually finding solutions in this world, leaving Dread to take his position back after Sonic tells him he'll be Legendary if they get the shard.

When they get their gusto back after the raid from Rusty Rose, now Dread is more violent. He's taking advantage of every given opportunity. His crew loves this. This, is the Dread they've been eager to work for. Knuckles the Dread.

But there's something he says when he returns from Rusty Rose's raid. (When his ship is sinking) He literally says he didn't come back for his crew; another sign.

Once Sonic teaches Dread a new trick while fighting off Rusty Rose once more, he uses it to get a boost to get closer to the shard.

Abandoning crew mid battle. Although Sonic does a trick himself that makes it seem like he did the same thing, he actually came back almost immediately. The crew only reacted to Sonics disappearance. This can mean a few things, like either they've become dependent on Sonics presence in order to perform well (Given how they don't risk fighting once he disappears), or it shows their weak trust in him. Could be both, or either.

Next few bits focus on Dreads sanity visibly deteriorating the closer he gets to the shard. He's becoming desperate. Insanity is visibly shown in his eyes, the way he shakes. He's finally got what he's been looking for. He'll do anything to keep it from anyone and anything else. He does fall off the mountain though.

Sonics glad he got the shard. In fact, he's not even worried about the shard itself. He's worried about Dread. Or, in his mind; Knuckles. (Due to Sonic equating every parallel he meets to his friends, although they are all different beings all together.)

Sonic saves Dread, even though in the process, he got teleported out of No Place. Dread doesn't even care that he could've died, and is just ecstatic to have the shard back in his hands.

This is where his priorities really lie. This is what separates Dread, from Knuckles.

This is why I love Dread.

#knuckles the dread #sonic the hedgehog #txt #sonic prime #sonic prime spoilers #god i love this show #its got so many details that make it so fun to rewatch #finding out underlying motives through what everyone says and etc

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edwardslostalchemy · 3 months

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Alright so for katsuki bakugou rising, there's a lot to unpack in this episode. First, we have Aizawa literally cutting off his own LEG to keep him from losing his quirk, what the FUCK. I know this happens, but it still surprises me! We have Shouto come in!!!! My BABY finally joins the fight!!! Also great confirmation that he knows first aid/triage, whatever it's called in this universe, when he helped Gran Torino when he got donuted by Shigaraki. I love how Izuku just goes insane and keeps fighting. I also think it was fucking great how it was SET UP as a foreshadowing that he was going to lose his arms because he kept remembering the doctor talking about him sustaining such big injuries. But that's bullshit because we all know that doesn't happen. But it would have had such a satisfying payoff to have him lose his arms as a consequence. I've been SCREAMING about Izuku losing his arms for YEARS. The fact he DIDN'T is so stupid. Narratively speaking, that's what should have happened. That's what the narrative was saying with all this. Anyway, he has busted up arms again. Insane how neither Rock Lock nor Manual know first aid but Shouto comes in and he does. These are adult pro heroes, they SHOULD know the basics??? Shouto knows because I'm assuming his dad trained him, endeavor is nothing but thorough. These bitches have no excuse; they're professionals. I may not be remembering things correctly though because I forgot they have Aizawa. Anyway, I love that we get to see that bakugou is concerned for Izuku, and we get to see his desperation. I liked it. Really good delivery and execution. He comes up with a plan, sees it through. Then he sees Izuku "I have no self-preservation" Midoriya is about to get skewered and then he goes and takes the hit for him. No complaints. Very good. I liked it. The build up was there. Finally, he is doing something to atone. Still fucked up he admitted he bullied Izuku because Izuku lacked self-preservation??? Stupid bitch. But okay, he took the skewer for him. Thanks for your sacrifice. Izuku WILL go feral for that. LESS likely to have self-preservation, but that's a problem for Izuku from 5 minutes from now I guess. I'm STRESSED, but I'm having fun watching. Also the end credits changed for bakugou holding out to Izuku's hand, finally the acceptance of the person he's tormented for years. It only took a lot of shit to get him there but OKAY I GUESS. Let's keep going.

#fran watches bnha #his apology was ass though #but let me not get ahead of myself and I'll just enjoy this moment

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istumpysk · 2 years

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Operation Stumpy Re-Read

A FEAST FOR CROWS

Summary & Foreshadowing Smorgasbord (Part II)

Crouching dragon, hidden wolf.

AFFC Part II: UNDER THE CUT

Dark Daenerys Highlights & Laughs

Let's Dance: Stark vs. Targ

A Rat in a Maze 🐀🔪

The Usurper's Knife

Storm x Storm 🦑🖤🐉

Squid Game

AFFC Part I: CLICK

Sansa Stark, Queen in the North

Jon Snow, King in the North

Jon (Aemon?) Snow

Ahoy Matey! Arya Stark Sails the Ocean Blue

Bran the Broken, King of Westeros

High Septon Rickon?

Pick Your Poison: The Twins Meet Their End in the Bowels of Casterly Rock . . . or King's Landing

Younger and More Beautiful Cersei

AFFC PART III: CLICK

Chapter Transitions

JONSA 🐺❤️❄️

Previous books:

AGOT Summary & Foreshadowing: CLICK

ACOK Summary & Foreshadowing: PART I / PART II

ASOS Summary & Foreshadowing: PART I / PART II / PART III / PART IV

Stumpy note:

If I didn't give you credit for discovering something or if I missed any foreshadowing, please contact me and I'll rectify that.

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

DARK DAENERYS HIGHLIGHTS & LAUGHS

Talking dragons, while a Sand Snake shoots three arrows.

"Dragons," said Mollander. He snatched a withered apple off the ground and tossed it hand to hand.

"Throw the apple," urged Alleras the Sphinx. He slipped an arrow from his quiver and nocked it to his bowstring.

"I should like to see a dragon." Roone was the youngest of them, a chunky boy still two years shy of manhood. "I should like that very much."

[...]

Far and fast the apple flew . . .

. . . but not as fast as the arrow that whistled after it, a yard-long shaft of golden wood fletched with scarlet feathers. Pate did not see the arrow catch the apple, but he heard it. A soft chunk echoed back across the river, followed by a splash.

Mollander whistled. "You cored it. Sweet."

[...]

"There's another apple near your foot," Alleras called to Mollander, "and I still have two arrows in my quiver." - Prologue, AFFC

+.+.+

A storm is coming.

"No," said Alleras. "It was Prince Rhaegar's young son Aegon whose head was dashed against the wall by the Lion of Lannister's brave men. We speak of Rhaegar's sister, born on Dragonstone before its fall. The one they called Daenerys."

"The Stormborn. I recall her now." - Prologue, AFFC

+.+.+

A sword with fire shadows Oldtown.

Thank you, @agentrouka-blog!

And beyond, where the Honeywine widened into Whispering Sound, rose the Hightower, its beacon fires bright against the dawn. From where it stood atop the bluffs of Battle Island, its shadow cut the city like a sword. Those born and raised in Oldtown could tell the time of day by where that shadow fell. - Prologue, AFFC

+.+.+

Does the Faceless Man want a book?

"The key?" the alchemist inquired politely.

Something made Pate hesitate. "Is it some book you want?" Some of the old Valyrian scrolls down in the locked vaults were said to be the only surviving copies in the world.

"What I want is none of your concern." - Prologue, AFFC

Ten years ago, Tyrion had read a fragment of Unnatural History that had eluded the Blessed Baelor, but he doubted that any of Barth's work had found its way across the narrow sea. And of course there was even less chance of his coming on the fragmentary, anonymous, blood-soaked tome sometimes called Blood and Fire and sometimes The Death of Dragons, the only surviving copy of which was supposedly hidden away in a locked vault beneath the Citadel. - Tyrion IV, ADWD

+.+.+

Speaking of The Death of Dragons (what a coincidence!), let's follow Samwell's book.

He had to get down on his knees to gather up the books he'd dropped. I should not have brought so many, he told himself as he brushed the dirt off Colloquo Votar's Jade Compendium, a thick volume of tales and legends from the east that Maester Aemon had commanded him to find. The book appeared undamaged. Maester Thomax's Dragonkin, Being a History of House Targaryen from Exile to Apotheosis, with a Consideration of the Life and Death of Dragons had not been so fortunate. It had come open as it fell, and a few pages had gotten muddy, including one with a rather nice picture of Balerion the Black Dread done in colored inks. Sam cursed himself for a clumsy oaf as he smoothed the pages down and brushed them off. - Samwell I, AFFC

↓

The second wayn would carry their clothing and possessions, along with a chest of rare old books that Aemon thought the Citadel might lack. Sam had spent half the night searching for them, though he'd found only one in four. And a good thing, or we'd need another wayn. - Samwell I, AFFC

↓

The only things of value that still remained to them were the books they had brought from the vaults of Castle Black. Sam parted with them glumly. "They were meant for the Citadel," he said, when Xhondo asked him what was wrong. When the mate translated those words, the captain laughed. "Quhuru Mo says the grey men will be having these books still," Xhondo told him, "only they will be buying them from Quhuru Mo. The maesters give good silver for books they are not having, and sometimes red and yellow gold." - Samwell IV, AFFC

↓

"Two days, ten days, who can say? However long it takes to empty our holds and fill them again." Kojja grinned. "My father must visit the grey maesters as well. He has books to sell." - Samwell V, AFFC

+.+.+

What do storms and dragons make? Not food.

Thank you, @une-nuit-pour-se-souvenir!

"The Storm God cast him down," the priest announced. For a thousand thousand years sea and sky had been at war. From the sea had come the ironborn, and the fish that sustained them even in the depths of winter, but storms brought only woe and grief. - The Prophet, AFFC

"Grapes are real. A man can gorge himself on grapes. Their juice is sweet, and they make wine. What do dragons make?"

"Woe." The Crow's Eye sipped from his silver cup. - The Reaver, AFFC

+.+.+

Like the Unsullied?

Thank you, @magiclovingdragon!

No proper man would choose a life of thralldom, nor forge a chain of servitude to wear about his throat. - The Prophet, AFFC

+.+.+

Death came to Dorne on black wings, with red wax.

Thank you, @decadelongsummer!

Death had come to Dorne on raven wings, writ small and sealed with a blob of hard red wax. - The Captain of the Guards, AFFC

+.+.+

Quick reminder:

Cersei and Daenerys are intended as parallel characters --each exploring a different approach to how a woman would rule in a male dominated, medieval-inspired fantasy world. - George R. R. Martin

+.+.+

Mad Queen & Mad Queen parallels that make us laugh: above them all edition.

She dreamt she sat the Iron Throne, high above them all. - Cersei I, AFFC

Meereen had a score of lesser pyramids, but none stood even half as tall. From here she could see the whole city: the narrow twisty alleys and wide brick streets, the temples and granaries, hovels and palaces, brothels and baths, gardens and fountains, the great red circles of the fighting pits. And beyond the walls was the pewter sea, the winding Skahazadhan, the dry brown hills, burnt orchards, and blackened fields. Up here in her garden Dany sometimes felt like a god, living atop the highest mountain in the world.

Do all gods feel so lonely? Some must, surely. - Daenerys VI, ASOS

+.+.+

Good luck Aegon.

"My own father raised the same objections when I chose a life of service," the old man said. "It was his father who sent me to the Citadel. King Daeron had sired four sons, and three had sons of their own. Too many dragons are as dangerous as too few, I heard His Grace tell my lord father, the day they sent me off." - Samwell I, AFFC

+.+.+

A storm of black wings couldn't buy Diet Daenerys an ally. The silence had been thunderous.

He's trying to convince himself, Sam realized, but he can't. The ravens had gone forth from Castle Black in a storm of black wings, summoning the lords of the north to declare for Stannis Baratheon and join their strength to his. Sam had sent out most of them himself. Thusfar only one bird had returned, the one they'd sent to Karhold. Elsewise the silence had been thunderous. - Samwell I, AFFC

+.+.+

Mad Queen & Mad Queen parallels that make us laugh: just like my daddy edition.

"Lord Tywin was a great man, an extraordinary man," he declared ponderously after he had kissed both her cheeks. "We shall never see his like again, I fear."

You are looking at his like, fool, Cersei thought. It is his daughter standing here before you. - Cersei II, AFFC

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

". . . my father's daughter?" If she was not her father's daughter, who was she? - Daenerys VI, ASOS

+.+.+

Dark wings high above King's Landing.

There were crows circling the seven towers and great dome of Baelor's Sept even now, Jaime suspected, their black wings beating against the night air as they searched for a way inside. - Jaime I, AFFC

+.+.+

Mad Danelle and her giant bats won't stop eating children.

Thank you, @decadelongsummer!

She had a cheerful manner, but when Brienne showed her the shield her face went dark. "My old ma used to say that giant bats flew out from Harrenhal on moonless nights, to carry bad children to Mad Danelle for her cookpots. Sometimes I'd hear them scrabbling at the shutters." She sucked her teeth a moment, thoughtful. "What goes in its place?" - Brienne II, AFFC

He found himself remembering tales he had first heard as a child at Casterly Rock, of mad Lady Lothston who bathed in tubs of blood and presided over feasts of human flesh within these very walls. - Jaime III, AFFC

+.+.+

If history is a wheel, what does that tell us about Daenerys Targaryen?

"Archmaester Rigney once wrote that history is a wheel, for the nature of man is fundamentally unchanging. What has happened before will perforce happen again, he said. I think of that whenever I contemplate the Crow's Eye. Euron Greyjoy sounds queerly like Urron Greyiron to these old ears. I shall not go to Old Wyk. Nor should you." - The Kraken's Daughter, AFFC

+.+.+

A dragon eating itself.

"Have you ever seen the arms of House Toland of Ghost Hill?"

He had to think a moment. "A dragon eating its own tail?"

"The dragon is time. It has no beginning and no ending, so all things come round again. Anders Yronwood is Criston Cole reborn. He whispers in my brother's ear that he should rule after my father, that it is not right for men to kneel to women . . . that Arianne especially is unfit to rule, being the willful wanton that she is." - The Soiled Knight, AFFC

+.+.+

Doesn't sound like a happy song.

He sang of the Dance of the Dragons, of fair Jonquil and her fool, of Jenny of Oldstones and the Prince of Dragonflies. He sang of betrayals, and murders most foul, of hanged men and bloody vengeance. He sang of grief and sadness. - Sansa I, AFFC

+.+.+

Kings are dancing, hey-nonny hey-nonny.

Thank you, @decadelongsummer!

"Does he now?" The man took the coin and spun it, smiling. "I like to see a king dance, hey-nonny hey-nonny hey-nonny-ho. Mighten be I saw this fool of yours." - Brienne III, AFFC

+.+.+

Towers are collapsing, and flames are dancing.

The Tower of the Hand gave out a sudden groan, so loud that all the conversation stopped abruptly. Stone cracked and split, and part of the upper battlements fell away and landed with a crash that shook the hill, sending up a cloud of dust and smoke. As fresh air rushed in through the broken masonry, the fire surged upward. Green flames leapt into the sky and whirled around each other. Tommen shied away, till Margaery took his hand and said, "Look, the flames are dancing. Just as we did, my love."

"They are." His voice was filled with wonder. "Mother, look, they're dancing." - Cersei III, AFFC

+.+.+

Cersei prays for a storm to rock the Red Keep.

"No one wants rain," said Cersei. For herself, she wanted sleet and ice, howling winds, thunder to shake the very stones of the Red Keep. She wanted a storm to match her rage. To Jocelyn she said, "Tighter. Cinch it tighter, you simpering little fool." - Cersei III, AFFC

+.+.+

Be careful what you wish for.

"Even if Tyrion were still hiding in the castle, he won't be in the Tower of the Hand. We've reduced it to a shell."

"Would that we could do the same to the rest of this foul castle," said Cersei. - Cersei III, AFFC

+.+.+

Careful where you point that dragon.

Jaime ignored that. "If these flames spread beyond the tower, you may end up burning down the castle whether you mean to or not. Wildfire is treacherous." - Cersei III, AFFC

+.+.+

Mad Queen & Mad King parallels that make us laugh: white castles edition.

"Would that we could do the same to the rest of this foul castle," said Cersei. "After the war I mean to build a new palace beyond the river." She had dreamed of it the night before last, a magnificent white castle surrounded by woods and gardens, long leagues from the stinks and noise of King's Landing. "This city is a cesspit. For half a groat I would move the court to Lannisport and rule the realm from Casterly Rock." - Cersei III, AFFC

In 265 AC, offended by "the stink of King's Landing," he spoke of building a "white city" entirely of marble on the south bank of the Blackwater Rush. - The Targaryen Kings: Aerys II, The World of Ice and Fire

+.+.+

I was thinking someone else.

"Let all of King's Landing see the flames. It will be a lesson to our enemies."

"Now you sound like Aerys." - Cersei III, AFFC

+.+.+

Mad Queen & Mad Queen parallels that make us laugh: pyromania edition.

"No need." Cersei felt too alive for sleep. The wildfire was cleansing her, burning away all her rage and fear, filling her with resolve. "The flames are so pretty. I want to watch them for a while." - Cersei III, AFFC

The flames writhed before her like the women who had danced at her wedding, whirling and singing and spinning their yellow and orange and crimson veils, fearsome to behold, yet lovely, so lovely, alive with heat. Dany opened her arms to them, her skin flushed and glowing. This is a wedding, too, she thought.

Another step, and Dany could feel the heat of the sand on the soles of her feet, even through her sandals. Sweat ran down her thighs and between her breasts and in rivulets over her cheeks, where tears had once run. Ser Jorah was shouting behind her, but he did not matter anymore, only the fire mattered. The flames were so beautiful, the loveliest things she had ever seen, each one a sorcerer robed in yellow and orange and scarlet, swirling long smoky cloaks. - Daenerys X, AGOT

+.+.+

Mother of beasts, mother of monsters.

Thank you, @agentrouka-blog!

"Yet this peace is fragile . . . as fragile as your princess."

"Only a beast would harm a little girl." - The Soiled Knight, AFFC

"Pets?" screeched Reznak. "Monsters, rather. Monsters that feed on children. We cannot—"

"Silence," said Daenerys. "We will not speak of that." - Daenerys V, ADWD

+.+.+

If Randyll Tarly does it, perhaps it's time to rethink these methods of punishment.

"I know what Lord Randyll does with outlaws," Brienne said. "I know what he does with rapers too."

She had hoped the name might cow them, but the serjeant only flicked egg off his fingers and signaled to his men to spread out. Brienne found herself surrounded by steel points. "What was it you was saying, wench? What is it that Lord Tarly does to . . ."

". . . rapers," a deeper voice finished. "He gelds them or sends them to the Wall. Sometimes both. And he cuts fingers off thieves." A languid young man stepped from the gatehouse, a swordbelt buckled at his waist. - Brienne III, AFFC

Meereen had been sacked savagely, as new-fallen cities always were, but Dany was determined that should end now that the city was hers. She had decreed that murderers were to be hanged, that looters were to lose a hand, and rapists their manhood. Eight killers swung from the walls, and the Unsullied had filled a bushel basket with bloody hands and soft red worms, but Meereen was calm again. But for how long? - Daenerys VI, ASOS

+.+.+

The author isn't finished making his point.

Tarly had heard enough. "Take his little finger. He can choose which hand. A nail through the palm for the other." - Brienne III, AFFC

She had them nailed to wooden posts around the plaza, each man pointing at the next. - Daenerys VI, ASOS

+.+.+

She has three, Sam.

Exhausted as they were, his rowers bent to their oars again, and the ship clawed south toward the narrow sea, till Skagos dwindled to no more than a few dark shapes in the sky that might have been thunderheads, or the tops of tall black mountains, or both. After that, they had eight days and seven nights of clear, smooth sailing.

Then came more storms, worse than before.

Was it three storms, or only one, broken up by lulls? Sam never knew, though he tried desperately to care. - Samwell II, AFFC

+.+.+

Lightning and darkness, the worst is just beginning.

"No." Sam wiped his nose, and pointed south with a fat finger, toward the gathering darkness. "There," he said. No sooner had he spoken than lightning flashed, sudden and silent and blinding bright. The distant clouds glowed for half a heartbeat, mountains heaped on mountains, purple and red and yellow, taller than the world. "The worst isn't done. The worst is just beginning, and there are no happy endings."

"Gods be good," said Dareon, laughing. "Slayer, you are such a craven." - Samwell II, AFFC

+.+.+

Thunder from the south, ice from the north.

The autumn gales had hounded them all across the narrow sea. Sometimes they came up from the south, roiling with thunder and lightning and black rains that fell for days. Sometimes they came down from the north, cold and grim, with savage winds that cut right through a man. Once it got so cold that Sam had woken to find the whole ship coated in ice, shining as white as pearl. - Samwell III, AFFC

+.+.+

When you make Tywin Lannister look good.

The funeral procession departed King's Landing through the Gate of the Gods, wider and more splendid than the Lion Gate. The choice felt wrong to Jaime. His father had been a lion, that no one could deny, but even Lord Tywin never claimed to be a god. - Jaime II, AFFC

+.+.+

Cersei and Aerys aren't the only two people aroused by flames.

Jaime knew the look in his sister's eyes. He had seen it before, most recently on the night of Tommen's wedding, when she burned the Tower of the Hand. The green light of the wildfire had bathed the face of the watchers, so they looked like nothing so much as rotting corpses, a pack of gleeful ghouls, but some of the corpses were prettier than others. Even in the baleful glow, Cersei had been beautiful to look upon. She'd stood with one hand on her breast, her lips parted, her green eyes shining. She is crying, Jaime had realized, but whether it was from grief or ecstasy he could not have said.

The sight had filled him with disquiet, reminding him of Aerys Targaryen and the way a burning would arouse him. - Jaime II, AFFC

+.+.+

Good omens: the night Daenerys was conceived.

A king has no secrets from his Kingsguard. Relations between Aerys and his queen had been strained during the last years of his reign. They slept apart and did their best to avoid each other during the waking hours. But whenever Aerys gave a man to the flames, Queen Rhaella would have a visitor in the night. The day he burned his mace-and-dagger Hand, Jaime and Jon Darry had stood at guard outside her bedchamber whilst the king took his pleasure. "You're hurting me," they had heard Rhaella cry through the oaken door. "You're hurting me." In some queer way, that had been worse than Lord Chelsted's screaming. "We are sworn to protect her as well," Jaime had finally been driven to say. "We are," Darry allowed, "but not from him."

Jaime had only seen Rhaella once after that, the morning of the day she left for Dragonstone. The queen had been cloaked and hooded as she climbed inside the royal wheelhouse that would take her down Aegon's High Hill to the waiting ship, but he heard her maids whispering after she was gone. They said the queen looked as if some beast had savaged her, clawing at her thighs and chewing on her breasts. A crowned beast, Jaime knew. - Jaime II, AFFC

+.+.+

Fateful words.

Let him be king over charred bones and cooked meat, Jaime remembered, studying his sister's smile. Let him be the king of ashes. - Jaime II, AFFC

"Let him be king over charred bones and cooked meat," he said to a man below him. "Let him be the king of ashes." Drogon shrieked, his claws digging through silk and skin, but the king on his throne never heard, and Dany moved on. - Daenerys IV, ACOK

+.+.+

Mad Queen & Mad Queen parallels that make us laugh: teats edition.

"I govern the realm."

Seven save us all, you do. His sister liked to think of herself as Lord Tywin with teats, but she was wrong. Their father had been as relentless and implacable as a glacier, where Cersei was all wildfire, especially when thwarted. - Jaime II, AFFC

"Must?" Tyrion made a tsking sound. "That is not a word queens like to hear. You are her perfect prince, agreed, bright and bold and comely as any maid could wish. Daenerys Targaryen is no maid, however. She is the widow of a Dothraki khal, a mother of dragons and sacker of cities, Aegon the Conqueror with teats. She may not prove as willing as you wish." - Tyrion VI, ADWD

+.+.+

A storm's coming for the ants.

Men began to shove at one another. Someone flung a pinecone at Asha's head. When she ducked, her makeshift crown fell off. For a moment it seemed to the priest as if he stood atop a giant anthill, with a thousand ants in a boil at his feet. Shouts of "Asha!" and "Victarion!" surged back and forth, and it seemed as though some savage storm was about to engulf them all. - The Drowned Man, AFFC

Where did all the ants come from? Dany brushed them from her arms and legs and belly. She ran a hand across her stubbly scalp where her hair had burned away, and felt more ants on her head, and one crawling down the back of her neck. She knocked them off and crushed them under her bare feet. There were so many … - Daenerys X, ADWD

+.+.+

Dam-phair's prophetic dream? Who is we?

The priest had dreamed the same dream, when first he'd seen the red comet in the sky. We shall sweep over the green lands with fire and sword, root out the seven gods of the septons and the white trees of the northmen . . . - The Drowned Man, AFFC

+.+.+

There's no honor in using the magic sword.

Crabb thought that was hilarious. "The Perfect Knight? The Perfect Fool, he sounds like. What's the point o' having some magic sword if you don't bloody well use it?"

"Honor," she said. "The point is honor." - Brienne IV, AFFC

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

+.+.+

The dragons have a target.

"I understand you've fought some mighty battles too, Your Grace," said Drey in his most cheerful voice. "It is said you show our brave Prince Trystane no mercy at the cyvasse table."

"He always sets his squares up the same way, with all the mountains in the front and his elephants in the passes," said Myrcella. "So I send my dragon through to eat his elephants." - The Queenmaker, AFFC

+.+.+

Mad Queen & Mad Queen parallels that make us laugh: the wolf girl edition.

If she had only married Rhaegar as the gods intended, he would never have looked twice at the wolf girl. Rhaegar would be our king today and I would be his queen, the mother of his sons. - Cersei V, AFFC

"If I had been born more timely, he said, Rhaegar would have married me instead of Elia, and it would all have come out different. If Rhaegar had been happy in his wife, he would not have needed the Stark girl." -Daenerys IV, ASOS

+.+.+

More grief than glory, Aemon.

He was not making sense. "Remember what?"

"Dragons," Aemon whispered. "The grief and glory of my House, they were." - Samwell III, AFFC

+.+.+

Fire consumes.

He closed his white eyes wearily, then forced them open once again. "I should not have left the Wall. Lord Snow could not have known, but I should have seen it. Fire consumes, but cold preserves. The Wall . . . but it is too late to go running back. – Samwell III, AFFC

"Fire consumes." Lord Beric stood behind them, and there was something in his voice that silenced Thoros at once. "It consumes, and when it is done there is nothing left. Nothing." - Arya VIII, AFFC

+.+.+

The dreams killed them, every one.

"The last dragon died before you were born," said Sam. "How could you remember them?"

"I see them in my dreams, Sam. I see a red star bleeding in the sky. I still remember red. I see their shadows on the snow, hear the crack of leathern wings, feel their hot breath. My brothers dreamed of dragons too, and the dreams killed them, every one. Sam, we tremble on the cusp of half-remembered prophecies, of wonders and terrors that no man now living could hope to comprehend . . . or . . ." - Samwell III, AFFC

+.+.+

A preview?

Three hundred years ago, when Aegon the Dragon landed beneath this very hill, the High Septon locked himself within the Starry Sept of Oldtown and prayed for seven days and seven nights, taking no nourishment but bread and water. When he emerged he announced that the Faith would not oppose Aegon and his sisters, for the Crone had lifted up her lamp to show him what lay ahead. If Oldtown took up arms against the Dragon, Oldtown would burn, and the Hightower and the Citadel and the Starry Sept would be cast down and destroyed. Lord Hightower was a godly man. When he heard the prophecy, he kept his strength at home and opened the city gates to Aegon when he came. And His High Holiness anointed the Conqueror with the seven oils. I must do as he did, three hundred years ago. I must pray, and fast." - Cersei VI, AFFC

+.+.+

Just because you give something a different name. . .

"Who are they?" he asked the men who helped tie up their boat.

"Widows and orphans. They're to be sold as slaves."

"Sold?" There were no slaves in the Iron Islands, only thralls. A thrall was bound to service, but he was not chattel. His children were born free, so long as they were given to the Drowned God. And thralls were never bought nor sold for gold. A man paid the iron price for thralls, or else had none. "They should be thralls, or salt wives," Victarion complained.

"It's by the king's decree," the man said.

"The strong have always taken from the weak," said Nute the Barber. "Thralls or slaves, it makes no matter. Their men could not defend them, so now they are ours, to do with as we will." - The Reaver, AFFC

+.+.+

Are you sure they believed in the cause?

"When I died in the Battle of the Trident. I fought for Prince Rhaegar, though he never knew my name. I could not tell you why, save that the lord I served served a lord who served a lord who had decided to support the dragon rather than the stag. Had he decided elsewise, I might have been on the other side of the river. The battle was a bloody thing. The singers would have us believe it was all Rhaegar and Robert struggling in the stream for a woman both of them claimed to love, but I assure you, other men were fighting too, and I was one. - Brienne VI, AFFC

At the Trident, those brave men Viserys spoke of who died beneath our dragon banners—did they give their lives because they believed in Rhaegar's cause, or because they had been bought and paid for? - Daenerys II, ASOS

+.+.+

Mad Queen & Mad Queen parallels that make us laugh: they're everywhere edition.

The far end of the hall was lost in darkness, and Cersei could not but feel that the shadows were closing around her too. My enemies are everywhere, and my friends are useless. - Cersei VII, AFFC

"No more than I did." Dany took a deep breath to stop her shaking. Enemies everywhere. "Take me back to my tent. Please." - Daenerys V, ASOS

+.+.+

Mad Queen & Mad Queen parallels that make us laugh: bed slaves edition.

She twisted Taena's other nipple too, pulling until the other woman gasped. "I am the queen. I mean to claim my rights." - Cersei VII, AFFC

Dany stepped away from her. "No. Irri, you do not need to do that. What happened that night, when you woke . . . you're no bed slave, I freed you, remember? You . . ." - Daenerys II, ASOS

Later, when the time came for sleep, Dany took Irri into bed with her, for the first time since the ship. - Daenerys VI, ASOS

+.+.+

What fools they were! Aemon has the prophecy all figured out.

Dragons are neither male nor female, Barth saw the truth in that.

On Braavos, it had seemed possible that Aemon might recover. Xhondo's talk of dragons had almost seemed to restore the old man to himself. That night he ate every bite Sam put before him. "No one ever looked for a girl," he said. "It was a prince that was promised, not a princess. Rhaegar, I thought . . . the smoke was from the fire that devoured Summerhall on the day of his birth, the salt from the tears shed for those who died. He shared my belief when he was young, but later he became persuaded that it was his own son who fulfilled the prophecy, for a comet had been seen above King's Landing on the night Aegon was conceived, and Rhaegar was certain the bleeding star had to be a comet. What fools we were, who thought ourselves so wise! The error crept in from the translation. Dragons are neither male nor female, Barth saw the truth of that, but now one and now the other, as changeable as flame. The language misled us all for a thousand years. Daenerys is the one, born amidst salt and smoke. The dragons prove it." - Samwell IV, AFFC

As Archmaester Gyldayn notes in his fragmentary history, there is no record that Vermax ever laid so much as a single egg, suggesting the dragon was male. The belief that dragons could change sex at need is erroneous, according to Maester Anson's Truth, rooted in a misunderstanding of the esoteric metaphor that Barth preferred when discussing the higher mysteries. - TwoIaF

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Poor Melisandre, deceived herself because she wanted to believe, unlike Aemon Targaryen. . .

"No," the old man said. "It must be you. Tell them. The prophecy . . . my brother's dream . . . Lady Melisandre has misread the signs. Stannis . . . Stannis has some of the dragon blood in him, yes. His brothers did as well. Rhaelle, Egg's little girl, she was how they came by it . . . their father's mother . . . she used to call me Uncle Maester when she was a little girl. I remembered that, so I allowed myself to hope . . . perhaps I wanted to . . . we all deceive ourselves, when we want to believe. Melisandre most of all, I think. The sword is wrong, she has to know that . . . light without heat . . . an empty glamor . . . the sword is wrong, and the false light can only lead us deeper into darkness, Sam. Daenerys is our hope. Tell them that, at the Citadel. Make them listen. They must send her a maester. Daenerys must be counseled, taught, protected. - Samwell IV, AFFC

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Mad Queen & Mad Queen parallels that make us laugh: bored to tears edition.

"May I have the honor of accompanying Your Grace to court?"

"If you can bear the tedium," said Cersei. "Robert was a fool about most things, but he was right in one regard. It is wearisome work to rule a kingdom." - Cersei VIII, AFFC

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

+.+.+

Mad Queen & Mad Queen parallels that make us laugh: bad ideas come in three edition.

The girls wandered for a long while before they found the crone's tent. By the time they did all the torches were guttering out. Cersei watched the girls huddling, whispering to one another. Go back, she tried to tell them. Turn away. There is nothing here for you.

[...]

She dreamt an old dream, of three girls in brown cloaks, a wattled crone, and a tent that smelled of death.

The crone's tent was dark, with a tall peaked roof. She did not want to go in, no more than she had wanted to at ten, but the other girls were watching her, so she could not turn away. They were three in the dream, as they had been in life.

[...]

"Three questions may you ask," the crone said, once she'd had her drink. "You will not like my answers. Ask, or begone with you." - Cersei VIII, AFFC

"Then I must heed Pyat Pree, and go to the warlocks."

The merchant prince sat up sharply. "Pyat Pree has blue lips, and it is truly said that blue lips speak only lies. Heed the wisdom of one who loves you. Warlocks are bitter creatures who eat dust and drink of shadows. They will give you naught. They have naught to give." - Daenerys III, ACOK

. . . mother of dragons . . . child of three . . .

"Three?" She did not understand.

. . . three heads has the dragon . . . the ghost chorus yammered inside her skull with never a lip moving, never a breath stirring the still blue air. . . . mother of dragons . . . child of storm . . . The whispers became a swirling song. . . . three fires must you light . . . one for life and one for death and one to love . . . Her own heart was beating in unison to the one that floated before her, blue and corrupt . . . three mounts must you ride . . . one to bed and one to dread and one to love . . . The voices were growing louder, she realized, and it seemed her heart was slowing, and even her breath. . . . three treasons will you know . . . once for blood and once for gold and once for love . . . - Daenerys IV, ACOK

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Final reminder:

Cersei and Daenerys are intended as parallel characters --each exploring a different approach to how a woman would rule in a male dominated, medieval-inspired fantasy world. - George R. R. Martin

+.+.+

Wait for the payoff.

Lord Hallyne of the Guild of Alchemists presented himself, to ask that his pyromancers be allowed to hatch any dragon's eggs that might turn up upon Dragonstone, now that the isle was safely back in royal hands. "If any such eggs remained, Stannis would have sold them to pay for his rebellion," the queen told him. She refrained from saying that the plan was mad. Ever since the last Targaryen dragon had died, all such attempts had ended in death, disaster, or disgrace. - Cersei VIII, AFFC

+.+.+

A Griffin King is slayed by someone flying on a falcon.

The Winged Knight was Ser Artys Arryn. Legend said that he had driven the First Men from the Vale and flown to the top of the Giant's Lance on a huge falcon to slay the Griffin King. There were a hundred tales of his adventures. - Alayne II, AFFC

+.+.+

Lady Stoneheart shows no mercy.

"Judgment?" She frowned. "Podrick Payne is just a boy."

"He says he is a squire."

"You know how boys will boast."

"The Imp's squire. He has fought in battles, by his own admission. He has even killed, to hear him tell it."

"A boy," she said again. "Have pity." - Brienne VIII, AFFC

Within he found a boy of twelve laying out clothing on the bed; his squire, such that he was. - Tyrion III, ACOK

"Slay the Good Masters, slay the soldiers, slay every man who wears a tokar or holds a whip, but harm no child under twelve, and strike the chains off every slave you see." - Daenerys III, ASOS

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That's the thing about prophecies.

"Born amidst salt and smoke, beneath a bleeding star. I know the prophecy." Marwyn turned his head and spat a gob of red phlegm onto the floor. "Not that I would trust it. Gorghan of Old Ghis once wrote that a prophecy is like a treacherous woman. She takes your member in her mouth, and you moan with the pleasure of it and think, how sweet, how fine, how good this is . . . and then her teeth snap shut and your moans turn to screams. That is the nature of prophecy, said Gorghan. Prophecy will bite your prick off every time." He chewed a bit. "Still . . ." - Samwell V, AFFC

+.+.+

LET'S DANCE: STARK vs. TARG

Thank you, @aegor-bamfsteel and @agentrouka-blog!

The Moonsingers led the slaves to a place where the dragonlords couldn't find them.

"The Moonsingers led us to this place of refuge, where the dragons of Valyria could not find us," Denyo said. - Arya I, AFFC

When a shipment of slaves of the Valyrian Freehold bound for Sothoryos revolted, seized the slave ships transporting them, and fled north, a group of enslaved women from the lands of the Jogos Nhai prophesied where they would find shelter: a lagoon behind a wall of pine-clad hills and sea stones, where frequent fogs would help hide the refugees from the eyes of dragonlords passing overhead. These women were moonsingers and, according to Braavosi history, their prophecy proved true. For that reason, the Temple of the Moonsingers is the largest in Braavos. - A Wiki of Ice and Fire

In another place, his little sister lifted her head to sing to the moon, and a hundred small grey cousins broke off their hunt to sing with her. - Jon I, ADWD

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Arya and Daenerys come face-to-face with similar doors. Drogon's not a fan.

At the top she found a set of carved wooden doors twelve feet high. The left-hand door was made of weirwood pale as bone, the right of gleaming ebony. In their center was a carved moon face; ebony on the weirwood side, weirwood on the ebony. The look of it reminded her somehow of the heart tree in the godswood at Winterfell. The doors are watching me, she thought. - Arya I, AFFC

Finally the stair opened. To her right, a set of wide wooden doors had been thrown open. They were fashioned of ebony and weirwood, the black and white grains swirling and twisting in strange interwoven patterns. They were very beautiful, yet somehow frightening. The blood of the dragon must not be afraid. Dany said a quick prayer, begging the Warrior for courage and the Dothraki horse god for strength. She made herself walk forward.

[...]

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

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In the opening chapter of the book, the author appears to be using apples as a placeholder for dragons. Hard to not be reminded of Arya's big bite.

Thank you, @mozzlan!

"Fuck your quiver." Mollander scooped up the windfall. "This one's wormy," he complained, but he threw it anyway. The arrow caught the apple as it began to fall and sliced it clean in two. One half landed on a turret roof, tumbled to a lower roof, bounced, and missed Armen by a foot. "If you cut a worm in two, you make two worms," the acolyte informed them. - Prologue, AFFC

She ended it with valar morghulis, touched Jaqen's coin where it nestled under her belt, and then reached up and plucked an apple from among the dead men as she rode beneath them. It was mushy and overripe, but she ate it worms and all. - Arya I, ASOS

+.+.+

Who's hungry for some fyreworms?

Thank you, @decadelongsummer!

"The tale of our beginnings. If you would be one of us, you had best know who we are and how we came to be. Men may whisper of the Faceless Men of Braavos, but we are older than the Secret City. Before the Titan rose, before the Unmasking of Uthero, before the Founding, we were. We have flowered in Braavos amongst these northern fogs, but we first took root in Valyria, amongst the wretched slaves who toiled in the deep mines beneath the Fourteen Flames that lit the Freehold's nights of old. Most mines are dank and chilly places, cut from cold dead stone, but the Fourteen Flames were living mountains with veins of molten rock and hearts of fire. So the mines of old Valyria were always hot, and they grew hotter as the shafts were driven deeper, ever deeper. The slaves toiled in an oven. The rocks around them were too hot to touch. The air stank of brimstone and would sear their lungs as they breathed it. The soles of their feet would burn and blister, even through the thickest sandals. Sometimes, when they broke through a wall in search of gold, they would find steam instead, or boiling water, or molten rock. Certain shafts were cut so low that the slaves could not stand upright, but had to crawl or bend. And there were wyrms in that red darkness too."

"Earthworms?" she asked, frowning.

"Firewyrms. Some say they are akin to dragons, for wyrms breathe fire too. Instead of soaring through the sky, they bore through stone and soil. If the old tales can be believed, there were wyrms amongst the Fourteen Flames even before the dragons came. The young ones are no larger than that skinny arm of yours, but they can grow to monstrous size and have no love for men."

She had broken her fast on some acorn paste and a handful of bugs. Bugs weren't so bad when you got used to them. Worms were worse, but still not as bad as the pain in your belly after days without food.

[...]

"We're all hungry," said Arya.

"You're not," Lommy spat from the ground. "Worm breath." - Arya V, ACOK

Does he think to scare me? Arya kissed him where his nose should be and plucked the grave worm from his eye to eat it, but it melted like a shadow in her hand.

The yellow skull was melting too, and the kindliest old man that she had ever seen was smiling down at her. "No one has ever tried to eat my worm before," he said. "Are you hungry, child?"

Yes, she thought, but not for food. - Arya I, AFFC

+.+.+

He should have killed the masters! Still waiting on the story of the first Faceless Man killing Valyrian masters.

"Burnt and blackened corpses were oft found in shafts where the rocks were cracked or full of holes. Yet still the mines drove deeper. Slaves perished by the score, but their masters did not care. Red gold and yellow gold and silver were reckoned to be more precious than the lives of slaves, for slaves were cheap in the old Freehold. During war, the Valyrians took them by the thousands. In times of peace they bred them, though only the worst were sent down to die in the red darkness."

"Didn't the slaves rise up and fight?"

"Some did," he said. "Revolts were common in the mines, but few accomplished much. The dragonlords of the old Freehold were strong in sorcery, and lesser men defied them at their peril. The first Faceless Man was one who did."

"Who was he?" Arya blurted, before she stopped to think.

"No one," he answered. "Some say he was a slave himself. Others insist he was a freeholder's son, born of noble stock. Some will even tell you he was an overseer who took pity on his charges. The truth is, no one knows.

[...]

Arya drew back from him. "He killed the slave?" That did not sound right. "He should have killed the masters!"

"He would bring the gift to them as well . . . but that is a tale for another day, one best shared with no one." He cocked his head. "And who are you, child?" - Arya II, AFFC

Are the Faceless Men under contract to kill Dany's dragons?

Not yet - George R. R. Martin

+.+.+

Lots of sweet things smelling foul.

And then he was alone again with his lord father, amongst the candles and the crystals and the sickly sweet smell of death. – Jaime I, AFFC

All the rainbows vanished in that perfumed mist, yet the stench persisted, a sweet rotten smell that made Jaime want to gag. – Jaime I, AFFC

When the chief fool undid the drawstring on the sack and plunged his hand inside, the smell of decay filled her audience chamber like some rank rose. - Cersei IV, AFFC

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

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

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The northmen aren't fond of The Stoneborn.

The Skagosi named themselves the stoneborn, but their fellow northmen called them Skaggs and liked them little. – Samwell II, AFFC

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Crows are dining!

Thank you, @decadelongsummer!

The smell reminded Jaime Lannister of the pass below the Golden Tooth, where he had won a glorious victory in the first days of the war. On the morning after the battle, the crows had feasted on victors and vanquished alike, as once they had feasted on Rhaegar Targaryen after the Trident. How much can a crown be worth, when a crow can dine upon a king? - Jaime I, AFFC

My flesh will feed the wolves and carrion crows, she thought sadly, and worms will burrow through my womb. - Daenerys X, AFFC

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Will The Perfect Fool slay a dragon?

Crabb thought that was hilarious. "The Perfect Knight? The Perfect Fool, he sounds like. What's the point o' having some magic sword if you don't bloody well use it?"

[...]

Brienne could not help but smile. "Perhaps," she allowed, "but Ser Galladon was no fool. Against a foe eight feet tall mounted on an aurochs, he might well have unsheathed the Just Maid. He used her once to slay a dragon, they say." - Brienne IV, AFFC

+.+.+

Arya's favourite words.

Winterfell is burned and fallen, Arya reminded herself. Old Nan and Maester Luwin were both dead, most like, and Sansa too. It did no good to think of them. All men must die. That was what the words meant, the words that Jaqen H'ghar had taught her when he gave her the worn iron coin. She had learned more Braavosi words since they left Saltpans, the words for please and thank you and sea and star and fire wine, but she came to them knowing that all men must die. - Arya I, AFFC

"Him of Many Faces."

"And many names," the kindly man had said. "In Qohor he is the Black Goat, in Yi Ti the Lion of Night, in Westeros the Stranger. All men must bow to him in the end, no matter if they worship the Seven or the Lord of Light, the Moon Mother or the Drowned God or the Great Shepherd. All mankind belongs to him . . . else somewhere in the world would be a folk who lived forever. Do you know of any folk who live forever?"

"No," she would answer. "All men must die." - Cat of the Canals, AFFC

+.+.+

Showdown at the Trident (link): lessons were learned after King Harren and his people burned.

Crabb gave her a sideways look. "Aegon sent his sister up to Crackclaw, that Visenya. The lords had heard o' Harren's end. Being no fools, they laid their swords at her feet. The queen took them as her own men, and said they'd owe no fealty to Maidenpool, Crab Isle, or Duskendale. - Brienne IV, AFFC

+.+.+

A RAT IN A MAZE 🐀🔪

You're going to need the original theory to make better sense of this.

If you want to read the theory in its entirety (including the new evidence below), click on the link. I strongly suggest this option.

If you're familiar with the theory and only want the AFFC additions, keep reading.

To summarize:

Arya Stark, often likened to a rat, and uniquely familiar with the secret tunnels of the Red Keep, will emerge from one of the walls to kill Daenerys with a dagger when she's alone in the throne room.

Similar to Maegor the Cruel, there will be wild speculation over who killed Daenerys. Some will say it was the Iron Throne that rejected her.

The rats are back!

Like a what?

He glanced around the bedchamber. "Whoever did this might still be lurking in the walls. It's a maze back there, and dark."

She imagined Tyrion creeping between the walls like some monstrous rat. - Cersei I, AFFC

___

What kind of rat?

And all for naught. They found only darkness, dust, and rats. And dragons, lurking down below. - Jaime I, AFFC

___

Your only friend is a rat when you're in the black cells.

If the Eyrie had been made like other castles, only rats and gaolers would have heard the dead man singing. - Sansa I, AFFC

___

Rats near the dungeons.

So it had been left to Rennifer Longwaters, the head undergaoler with the twisted back who claimed at tedious length to have a "drop of dragon" in him, to unlock the dungeon doors for Jaime and conduct him up the narrow steps inside the walls to the place where Ilyn Payne had lived for fifteen years.

The chambers stank of rotted food, and the rushes were crawling with vermin. As Jaime entered, he almost trod upon a rat. - Jaime III, AFFC

___

What about Arya?

A passage to the black cells had been found, and a stone well that seemed to have no bottom. They had found a chamber full of skulls and yellowed bones, and four sacks of tarnished silver coins from the reign of the first King Viserys. They had found a thousand rats as well . . . but neither Tyrion nor Varys had been amongst them, and Jaime had finally insisted on putting an end to the search. - Cersei III, AFFC

___

I think she already left.

"Do you still mean to go ahead and burn the Tower of the Hand?"

"After the feast." It was the only part of the day's festivities that Cersei thought she might enjoy. "Our lord father was murdered in that tower. I cannot bear to look at it. If the gods are good, the fire may smoke a few rats from the rubble." - Cersei III, AFFC

___

Mice work too!

"The queen is wise. These walls have ears."

"So they do." At night Cersei sometimes heard soft sounds, even in her own apartments. Mice in the walls, she would tell herself, no more than that. - Cersei VII, AFFC

+.+.+

Someone's in the walls.

Sounding like Aerys in more ways than one.

"Forever. See that they sleep forever, ser. I will not suffer guards to sleep on watch." He is in the walls. He killed Father as he killed Mother, as he killed Joff. - Cersei I, AFFC

___

You can never be too careful.

"Tyrion will not kill the same way twice. He is too cunning for that. He could be under the floor even now, listening to every word we say and making plans to open Tommen's throat." - Cersei III, AFFC

___

Too bad Daenerys doesn't know to be this paranoid.

She seized his arm. "Not a guardsman. You. And inside his bedchamber."

"In case Tyrion crawls out of the hearth? He won't."

"So you say. Will you tell me that you found all the hidden tunnels in these walls?" They both knew better. - Cersei III, AFFC

___

You never know who may be listening.

"Win Alla if you can, but be careful what you say. The gods may not be the only ones listening." - Cersei X, AFFC

Cersei gathered up her skirts and dignity. "This must be very frightening for you. I shall forgive those words." Here, as at court, one never knew who might be listening. - Cersei X, AFFC

Someone is listening. Even here, even now, she dare not speak freely. - Cersei I, ADWD

+.+.+

Secret tunnels, passageways, and wells - oh my!

To the sewers, Osmund.

"The guards were at their posts, Your Grace," said Osmund Kettleblack. "We found a hidden door behind the hearth. A secret passage. The Lord Commander's gone down to see where it goes." - Cersei I, AFFC

___

What about a child?

Guardsmen clustered near the hearth. The secret door that Ser Osmund had spoken of gaped open behind the ashes, no bigger than an oven. A man would need to crawl. But Tyrion is only half a man. - Cersei I, AFFC

___

With blade in hand?

There had always been talk of secret passages within the Red Keep. Maegor the Cruel was supposed to have killed the men who built the castle to keep the knowledge of them secret. How many other bedchambers have hidden doors? Cersei had a sudden vision of the dwarf crawling out from behind a tapestry in Tommen's bedchamber with blade in hand. Tommen is well guarded, she told herself. But Lord Tywin had been well guarded too. - Cersei I, AFFC

___

You can't leave from the front door, Osfryd.

Osfryd nodded and started toward the door. "No, not through the yard." She gestured toward the secret passage. "There's a shaft down to the dungeons. That way." - Cersei I, AFFC

___

Do we need keys?

Her twin's face had a haggard look. "The shaft goes down to a chamber where half a dozen tunnels meet. They're closed off by iron gates, chained and locked. I need to find keys." - Cersei I, AFFC

___

Thanks for all the information.

"If any of them were hiding in the tower, we would have found them. I've had a small army going at it with picks and hammers. We've knocked through walls and ripped up floors and uncovered half a hundred secret passages."

"And for all you know there may be half a hundred more." Some of the secret crawlways had turned out to be so small that Jaime had needed pages and stableboys to explore them. A passage to the black cells had been found, and a stone well that seemed to have no bottom. They had found a chamber full of skulls and yellowed bones, and four sacks of tarnished silver coins from the reign of the first King Viserys. They had found a thousand rats as well . . . but neither Tyrion nor Varys had been amongst them, and Jaime had finally insisted on putting an end to the search. One boy had gotten stuck in a narrow passage and had to be pulled out by his feet, shrieking. Another fell down a shaft and broke his legs. And two guardsmen vanished exploring a side tunnel. Some of the other guards swore they could hear them calling faintly through the stone, but when Jaime's men tore down the wall they found only earth and rubble on the far side. - Cersei III, AFFC

+.+.+

Who's there!?

Cersei's not alone.

His merriment still echoed in her ears when she felt a light touch on her shoulder, and woke suddenly. For half a heartbeat the hand seemed part of the nightmare, and Cersei cried out, but it was only Senelle. The maid's face was white and frightened.

We are not alone, the queen realized. Shadows loomed around her bed, tall shapes with chain mail glimmering beneath their cloaks. Armed men had no business here. Where are my guards? Her bedchamber was dark, but for the lantern one of the intruders held on high. - Cersei I, AFFC

___

Bad dreams are becoming reality.

But that was folly. Her dwarf brother was down in the black cells, condemned to die this very day. She looked down at her hands, turning them over to make certain all her fingers were still there. When she ran a hand down her arm the skin was covered with gooseprickles, but unbroken. There were no cuts on her legs, no gashes on the soles of her feet. A dream, that's all it was, a dream. - Cersei I, AFFC

Someone was in the cabin with her.

[...]

She is standing over me. "Who's there?" Dany peered into the darkness. She thought she could see a shadow, the faintest outline of a shape.

[...]

"A dream." Dany shook her head. "I dreamed a dream, no more. Go back to sleep. All of us, go back to sleep." - Daenerys III, ASOS

___

King Renly's run-in with a deadly shadow.

That night she dreamed herself in Renly's tent again. All the candles were guttering out, and the cold was thick around her. Something was moving through green darkness, something foul and horrible was hurtling toward her king. She wanted to protect him, but her limbs felt stiff and frozen, and it took more strength than she had just to lift her hand. And when the shadow sword sliced through the green steel gorget and the blood began to flow, she saw that the dying king was not Renly after all but Jaime Lannister, and she had failed him. - Brienne II, AFFC

Lord Renly was ahead of her, her sweet smiling king. He was leading her horse through the trees. Brienne called out to tell him how much she loved him, but when he turned to scowl at her, she saw that he was not Renly after all. Renly never scowled. He always had a smile for me, she thought . . . except . . .

"Cold," her king said, puzzled, and a shadow moved without a man to cast it, and her sweet lord's blood came washing through the green steel of his gorget to drench her hands. He had been a warm man, but his blood was cold as ice. - Brienne VIII, AFFC

+.+.+

Iron Throne or Shadow?

The Iron Throne is slicing up Cersei.

Horrified, she tried to cover herself with her hands. The barbs and blades of the Iron Throne bit into her flesh as she crouched to hide her shame. Blood ran red down her legs, as steel teeth gnawed at her buttocks. When she tried to stand, her foot slipped through a gap in the twisted metal. The more she struggled the more the throne engulfed her, tearing chunks of flesh from her breasts and belly, slicing at her arms and legs until they were slick and red, glistening. - Cersei I, AFFC

___

Daddy was tormented by the blades.

By the end the Mad King had become so fearful that he would allow no blade in his presence, save for the swords his Kingsguard wore. His beard was matted and unwashed, his hair a silver-gold tangle that reached his waist, his fingernails cracked yellow claws nine inches long. Yet still the blades tormented him, the ones he could never escape, the blades of the Iron Throne. His arms and legs were always covered with scabs and half-healed cuts. - Jaime II, AFFC

___

The Iron Throne's shadow.

Noho Dimittis, the Braavosi named himself. An irritating name for an irritating man. His voice was irritating too. Cersei shifted in her seat as he went on, wondering how long she must endure his hectoring. Behind her loomed the Iron Throne, its barbs and blades throwing twisted shadows across the floor. - Cersei V, AFFC

___

The shadows are closing in.

The torches on the back wall threw the long, barbed shadow of the Iron Throne halfway to the doors. The far end of the hall was lost in darkness, and Cersei could not but feel that the shadows were closing around her too. - Cersei VII, AFFC

___

A shifting shadow.

"No," said Cersei, "all is well. On the morrow Ser Loras will sail for Dragonstone, to win the castle, loose the Redwyne fleet, and prove his manhood to us all." She told the Myrish woman all that had occurred beneath the shifting shadow of the Iron Throne. - Cersei VII, AFFC

+.+.+

THE USURPER'S KNIFE

You're going to need the original theory to make better sense of this.

If you want to read the theory in its entirety (including the new evidence below), click on the link. I strongly suggest this option.

If you're familiar with the theory and only want the AFFC additions, keep reading.

To summarize:

Arya will kill Daenerys with Robert Baratheon's dagger (the usurper's knife). The same dagger the show used to kill the Night King.

With blade in hand.

+.+.+

I know one girl who would agree.

". . . to remove Jon Snow from the command," Cersei finished, delighted. I knew I was right to want him on my council. "That is just what we shall do." She laughed. If this bastard boy is truly his father's son, he will not suspect a thing. Perhaps he will even thank me, before the blade slides between his ribs.

[…]

This was how an enemy should be dealt with: with a dagger, not a declaration. - Cersei IV, AFFC

+.+.+

George casually reminds the reader the usurper's knife still travels on Littlefinger's hip.

"Your apple-eater holds a blade. Tell him to give it to you, or draw that dagger." - Alayne I, AFFC

+.+.+

STORM x STORM 🦑🖤🐉

Storm x Storm parallels that make us laugh: there's a storm a comin' edition.

"The Stormborn. I recall her now." - Prologue, AFFC

A storm was brewing, he could hear it in the waves, and storms brought naught but evil.

[…]

He was born a lord's son and died a king, murdered by a jealous god, Aeron thought, and now the storm is coming, a storm such as these isles have never known.

[…]

Aeron tugged his beard, and thought. I have seen the storm, and its name is Euron Crow's Eye. - The Prophet, AFFC

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, AFFC

+.+.+

Dothraki x Ironborn: the perfect complement.

Aeron shoved a bare black foot into a stirrup and swung himself onto the saddle. He was not fond of horses—they were creatures from the green lands and helped to make men weak—but necessity required that he ride. - The Prophet, AFFC

Savage beasts he did not fear, nor any man who had ever drawn breath, but the sea was a different matter. To the Dothraki, water that a horse could not drink was something foul; the heaving grey-green plains of the ocean filled them with superstitious loathing. - Daenerys VI, AGOT

+.+.+

Storm x Storm parallels that make us laugh: gods? pfft edition.

"No." Aeron Damphair did not weigh his words. "Only a godly man may sit the Seastone Chair. The Crow's Eye worships naught but his own pride." - The Prophet, AFFC

I know them all. I have seen their peoples garland them with flowers, and shed the blood of goats and bulls and children in their names. And I have heard the prayers, in half a hundred tongues. Cure my withered leg, make the maiden love me, grant me a healthy son. Save me, succor me, make me wealthy . . . protect me! Protect me from mine enemies, protect me from the darkness, protect me from the crabs inside my belly, from the horselords, from the slavers, from the sellswords at my door. Protect me from the Silence." He laughed. "Godless? Why, Aeron, I am the godliest man ever to raise sail! You serve one god, Damphair, but I have served ten thousand. From Ib to Asshai, when men see my sails, they pray." - The Iron Captain, AFFC

Up here in her garden Dany sometimes felt like a god, living atop the highest mountain in the world.

Do all gods feel so lonely? Some must, surely. Missandei had told her of the Lord of Harmony, worshiped by the Peaceful People of Naath; he was the only true god, her little scribe said, the god who always was and always would be, who made the moon and stars and earth, and all the creatures that dwelt upon them. Poor Lord of Harmony. Dany pitied him. It must be terrible to be alone for all time, attended by hordes of butterfly women you could make or unmake at a word. Westeros had seven gods at least, though Viserys had told her that some septons said the seven were only aspects of a single god, seven facets of a single crystal. That was just confusing. The red priests believed in two gods, she had heard, but two who were eternally at war. Dany liked that even less. She would not want to be eternally at war. - Daenerys VI, ASOS

+.+.+

Storm x Storm parallels that make us laugh: rules & loopholes edition.

"Ironborn must not spill the blood of ironborn."

"A pious sentiment, Damphair," said Goodbrother, "but not one that your brother shares. He had Sawane Botley drowned for saying that the Seastone Chair by rights belonged to Theon."

"If he was drowned, no blood was shed," said Aeron. - The Prophet, AFFC

Ser Jorah had explained that it was forbidden to carry a blade in Vaes Dothrak, or to shed a free man's blood. - Daenerys IV, AGOT

Thick globs of molten gold dripped down onto his chest, setting the scarlet silk to smoldering … yet no drop of blood was spilled. - Daenerys V, AGOT

+.+.+

Deranged Greyjoys and Targaryens love the basic elements.

Aeron crept from his little shelter into the chill of the night. Naked he stood, pale and gaunt and tall, and naked he walked into the black salt sea. The water was icy cold, yet he did not flinch from his god's caress. A wave smashed against his chest, staggering him. The next broke over his head. He could taste the salt on his lips and feel the god around him, and his ears rang with the glory of his song. Nine sons were born from the loins of Quellon Greyjoy, and I was the least of them, as weak and frightened as a girl. But no longer. That man is drowned, and the god has made me strong. The cold salt sea surrounded him, embraced him, reached down through his weak man's flesh and touched his bones. Bones, he thought. The bones of the soul. - The Prophet, AFFC

No, she wanted to shout to him, no, my good knight, do not fear for me. The fire is mine. I am Daenerys Stormborn, daughter of dragons, bride of dragons, mother of dragons, don't you see? Don't you SEE? With a belch of flame and smoke that reached thirty feet into the sky, the pyre collapsed and came down around her. Unafraid, Dany stepped forward into the firestorm, calling to her children. - Daenerys X, AGOT

+.+.+

Storm x Storm parallels that make us laugh: uncles and aunts stealing birthrights edition.

Thank you, @decadelongsummer!

Aeron tugged his beard, and thought. I have seen the storm, and its name is Euron Crow's Eye. "For now, send only silence," he told the lord. "I must pray on this."

"Pray all you wish," the maester said. "It does not change the law. Theon is the rightful heir, and Asha next." - The Prophet, AFFC

Now, how do you suppose this queen will react when you turn up with your begging bowl in hand and say, 'Good morrow to you, Auntie. I am your nephew, Aegon, returned from the dead. I've been hiding on a poleboat all my life, but now I've washed the blue dye from my hair and I'd like a dragon, please … and oh, did I mention, my claim to the Iron Throne is stronger than your own?'" - Tyrion VI, ADWD

+.+.+

Storm x Storm parallels that make us laugh: here we go again edition.

"Have you ever seen the arms of House Toland of Ghost Hill?"

He had to think a moment. "A dragon eating its own tail?"

"The dragon is time. It has no beginning and no ending, so all things come round again. - The Soiled Knight, AFFC

"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

+.+.+

Euron the dragonlord?

"I will go anywhere with you, but . . . Lord Blacktyde says this kingsmoot is a dangerous folly. He thinks your uncle will descend on them and kill them all, as Urron did."

He's mad enough. "He lacks the strength."

"You do not know his strength. He's been gathering men on Pyke.

[...]

"but if they catch you in those nets of theirs, you'll be as dead as if they had been dragonlords. And there's worse. The Crow's Eye brought back monsters from the east . . . aye, and wizards too." - The Kraken's Daughter, AFFC

+.+.+

Storm x Storm parallels that make us laugh: their favourite black and red mounts edition.

And then he saw her: a single-masted galley, lean and low, with a dark red hull. Her sails, now furled, were black as a starless sky. Even at anchor Silence looked both cruel and fast. On her prow was a black iron maiden with one arm outstretched. Her waist was slender, her breasts high and proud, her legs long and shapely. A windblown mane of black iron hair streamed from her head, and her eyes were mother-of-pearl, but she had no mouth. - The Iron Captain, AFFC

Above them all the dragon turned, dark against the sun. 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, AFFC

+.+.+

Euron Greyjoy, you dreamboat.

He looks unchanged, Victarion thought. He looks the same as he did the day he laughed at me and left. Euron was the most comely of Lord Quellon's sons, and three years of exile had not changed that. His hair was still black as a midnight sea, with never a whitecap to be seen, and his face was still smooth and pale beneath his neat dark beard. A black leather patch covered Euron's left eye, but his right was blue as a summer sky. - The Iron Captain, AFFC

When the exile knight delivered him, she asked herself whether two men had ever been so different. The Tyroshi was fair where Ser Jorah was swarthy; lithe where the knight was brawny; graced with flowing locks where the other was balding, yet smooth-skinned where Mormont was hairy. And her knight dressed plainly while this other made a peacock look drab, though he had thrown a heavy black cloak over his bright yellow finery for this visit. He carried a heavy canvas sack slung over one shoulder. - Daenerys IV, ASOS

She thought of Daario. If ever there was a man who could rape a woman with his eyes . . .

To be sure, she was just as guilty. Dany found herself stealing looks at the Tyroshi when her captains came to council, and sometimes at night she remembered the way his gold tooth glittered when he smiled. That, and his eyes. His bright blue eyes. - Daenerys V, ASOS

+.+.+

Sounds familiar.

"Just so," said Euron, "and for that sin I kill them all. I spill their blood upon the sea and sow their screaming women with my seed. Their little gods cannot stop me, so plainly they are false gods. I am more devout than even you, Aeron. Perhaps it should be you who kneels to me for blessing." - The Iron Captain, AFFC

"I will take my khalasar west to where the world ends, and ride the wooden horses across the black salt water as no khal has done before. I will kill the men in the iron suits and tear down their stone houses. I will rape their women, take their children as slaves, and bring their broken gods back to Vaes Dothrak to bow down beneath the Mother of Mountains. This I vow, I, Drogo son of Bharbo. This I swear before the Mother of Mountains, as the stars look down in witness." - Daenerys VI, AGOT

+.+.+

Those luscious blue lips.

"King Crow's Eye, brother." Euron smiled. His lips looked very dark in the lamplight, bruised and blue. - The Iron Captain, AFFC

"Not all your enemies are in the Yellow City. Beware men with cold hearts and blue lips. - Daenerys III, ADWD

+.+.+

The female sea dragon, who fed on krakens.

On the crown of the hill four-and-forty monstrous stone ribs rose from the earth like the trunks of great pale trees. The sight made Aeron's heart beat faster. Nagga had been the first sea dragon, the mightiest ever to rise from the waves. She fed on krakens and leviathans and drowned whole islands in her wrath, yet the Grey King had slain her and the Drowned God had changed her bones to stone so that men might never cease to wonder at the courage of the first of kings. Nagga's ribs became the beams and pillars of his longhall, just as her jaws became his throne. For a thousand years and seven he reigned here, Aeron recalled. Here he took his mermaid wife and planned his wars against the Storm God. From here he ruled both stone and salt, wearing robes of woven seaweed and a tall pale crown made from Nagga's teeth. - The Drowned Man, AFFC

+.+.+

The ironborn are ants, and a savage storm is about to engulf them all.

+.+.+

Red comet doomsday predictions: will the Greyjoys and Daenerys sweep over the green lands with fire and sword?

+.+.+

Euron, and his red and black Valyrian toys. Will a dragon or a Targaryen queen be bound to his will?

The horn he blew was shiny black and twisted, and taller than a man as he held it with both hands. It was bound about with bands of red gold and dark steel, incised with ancient Valyrian glyphs that seemed to glow redly as the sound swelled.

[...]

"That horn you heard I found amongst the smoking ruins that were Valyria, where no man has dared to walk but me. You heard its call, and felt its power. It is a dragon horn, bound with bands of red gold and Valyrian steel graven with enchantments. The dragonlords of old sounded such horns, before the Doom devoured them. With this horn, ironmen, I can bind dragons to my will." - The Drowned Man, AFFC

+.+.+

Storm x Storm parallels that make us laugh: conquerors edition.

"We are the ironborn, and once we were conquerors. Our writ ran everywhere the sound of the waves was heard. My brother would have you be content with the cold and dismal north, my niece with even less . . . but I shall give you Lannisport. Highgarden. The Arbor. Oldtown. The riverlands and the Reach, the kingswood and the rainwood, Dorne and the marches, the Mountains of the Moon and the Vale of Arryn, Tarth and the Stepstones. I say we take it all! I say, we take Westeros." He glanced at the priest. "All for the greater glory of our Drowned God, to be sure." - The Drowned Man, AFFC

[...]

"I know as much of war as you do, Crow's Eye," Asha said. "Aegon Targaryen conquered Westeros with dragons."

"And so shall we," Euron Greyjoy promised. - The Drowned Man, AFFC

No one was calling her Daenerys the Conqueror yet, but perhaps they would. Aegon the Conqueror had won Westeros with three dragons, but she had taken Meereen with sewer rats and a wooden cock, in less than a day. - Daenerys VI, ASOS

+.+.+

No true Scotsman.

These are no ironmen, Victarion thought. They still fear drowning. - The Reaver, AFFC

He was no dragon, Dany thought, curiously calm. Fire cannot kill a dragon. - Daenerys V, AGOT

+.+.+

Will Euron fly (on a dragon)?

Euron stood by the window, drinking from a silver cup. He wore the sable cloak he took from Blacktyde, his red leather eye patch, and nothing else. "When I was a boy, I dreamt that I could fly," he announced. "When I woke, I couldn't . . . or so the maester said. But what if he lied?" [...] "Perhaps we can fly. All of us. How will we ever know unless we leap from some tall tower?" - The Reaver, AFFC

+.+.+

Storm x Storm parallels that make us laugh: precious collectibles edition.

"I once held a dragon's egg in this hand, brother. This Myrish wizard swore he could hatch it if I gave him a year and all the gold that he required. When I grew bored with his excuses, I slew him. As he watched his entrails sliding through his fingers he said, 'But it has not been a year.'" He laughed.

[...]

Victarion shuddered. "Show me this dragon's egg." "I threw it in the sea during one of my dark moods." Euron gave a shrug. - The Reaver, AFFC

When she opened it, she found piles of the finest velvets and damasks the Free Cities could produce … and resting on top, nestled in the soft cloth, three huge eggs. Dany gasped. - Daenerys II, AGOT

+.+.+

Storm x Storm parallels that make us laugh: Kool-aid edition.

"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. One presumed to threaten me, so I killed him and fed him to the other three. They refused to eat of their friend's flesh at first, but when they grew hungry enough they had a change of heart. Men are meat." - The Reaver, AFFC

He stood no higher than her knee, his faced pinched and pointed, snoutish, but he was dressed in delicate livery of purple and blue, and his tiny pink hands held a silver tray. Upon it rested a slender crystal glass filled with a thick blue liquid: shade of the evening, the wine of warlocks. "Take and drink," urged Pyat Pree. - Daenerys IV, ACOK

+.+.+

Euron wants his bride.

"A king must have a wife, to give him heirs. Brother, I have need of you. Will you go to Slaver's Bay and bring my love to me?"

[...]

"So are the contents of my chamber pot. None is fit to sit the Seastone Chair, much less the Iron Throne. No, to make an heir that's worthy of him, I need a different woman. When the kraken weds the dragon, brother, let all the world beware."

[...]

"The last of her line. They say she is the fairest woman in the world. Her hair is silver-gold, and her eyes are amethysts . . . but you need not take my word for it, brother. Go to Slaver's Bay, behold her beauty, and bring her back to me." - The Reaver, AFFC

+.+.+

Victarion's highly skilled at making deliveries.

When Balon was wed, it was me he sent to Harlaw to bring him back his bride. - The Drowned Man, AFFC

+.+.+

Ironborn dressed like hunky Daario.

"My apologies," the captain said when his inspection was complete. "It grieves me that honest men must suffer such discourtesy, but sooner that than ironmen in Oldtown. Only a fortnight ago some of those bloody bastards captured a Tyroshi merchantman in the straits. They killed her crew, donned their clothes, and used the dyes they found to color their whiskers half a hundred colors. Once inside the walls they meant to set the port ablaze and open a gate from within whilst we fought the fire. Might have worked, but they ran afoul of the Lady of the Tower, and her oarsmaster has a Tyroshi wife. When he saw all the green and purple beards he hailed them in the tongue of Tyrosh, and not one of them had the words to hail him back." - Samwell V, AFFC

+.+.+

Euron's banner is smoke-stained.

Thank you, @agentrouka-blog!

Xhondo pointed at a half-sunken longship in the shallows. The remnants of a banner drooped from her stern, smoke-stained and ragged. The charge was one Sam had never seen before: a red eye with a black pupil, beneath a black iron crown supported by two crows. "Whose banner is that?" Sam asked. Xhondo only shrugged.

+.+.+

SQUID GAME

Join me, as we try to piece together how the story ends for Victarion and Euron Greyjoy.

What do we know about Vicky Greyjoy?

He's a fearsome warrior, loyal to a fault, and has neither the wits nor the ambition to plot betrayal (wink, wink).

"Lord Captain of the Iron Fleet, and a fearsome warrior. I have heard them sing of him in the alehouses."

"During my lord father's rebellion, he sailed into Lannisport with my uncle Euron and burned the Lannister fleet where it lay at anchor," Theon recalled. "The plan was Euron's, though. Victarion is like some great grey bullock, strong and tireless and dutiful, but not like to win any races. No doubt, he'll serve me as loyally as he has served my lord father. He has neither the wits nor the ambition to plot betrayal." - Theon II, ACOK

Nine sons had been born from the loins of Quellon Greyjoy, and Victarion was the strongest of them, a bull of a man, fearless and dutiful. And therein lies our danger. A younger brother owes obedience to an elder, and Victarion was not a man to sail against tradition. He has no love for Euron, though. Not since the woman died. - The Prophet, AFFC

Obedience came naturally to Victarion Greyjoy; he had been born to it. - The Reaver, AFFC

+.+.+

He wears lots of armor. Like, a lot of armor. All the time. Heavy, steel armor. At sea. On a ship.

"Keep line," Davos shouted. A gust of wind tugged at his old green cloak. A jerkin of boiled leather and a pothelm at his feet were his only armor. At sea, heavy steel was as like to cost a man his life as to save it, he believed. - Davos III, ACOK

Beneath he wore heavy grey chainmail over boiled black leather. In Moat Cailin he had taken to wearing mail day and night. Sore shoulders and an aching back were easier to bear than bloody bowels. The poisoned arrows of the bog devils need only scratch a man, and a few hours later he would be squirting and screaming as his life ran down his legs in gouts of red and brown. - The Iron Captain, AFFC

Victarion loomed above all of them save Andrik. His brother wore no helm, but elsewise he was all in armor, his kraken cloak hanging golden from his shoulders. - The Drowned Man, AFFC

"It was good of you to bring such gifts to my queensmoot, Nuncle," she told Victarion, "but you need not have worn so much armor. I promise not to hurt you." - The Drowned Man, AFFC

They hacked at him from front and back, but their swords might have been willow switches for all the harm they did him. No blade could cut through Victarion Greyjoy's heavy plate, nor did he give his foes the time to find the weak points at the joints, where only mail and leather warded him. Let three men assail him, or four, or five; it made no matter. He slew them one at a time, trusting in his steel to protect him from the others. - The Reaver, AFFC

+.+.+

He doesn't fear drowning.

They were clutching swords and spears and axes, but nine of every ten wore no armor, and the tenth had only a shirt of sewn scales. These are no ironmen, Victarion thought. They still fear drowning. - The Reaver, AFFC

Most like the man had drowned. "May he feast as he fought, in the Drowned God's watery halls." Though the men of the Shield Islands called themselves sailors, they crossed the seas in dread and went lightly clad in battle for fear of drowning. Young Serry had been different. A brave man, thought Victarion. Almost ironborn. - The Reaver, AFFC

"Throw the dying in the sea. If any beg for mercy, cut their throats first." He had only contempt for such; better to drown on seawater than on blood. - The Reaver, AFFC

A gang of sullen survivors moved amongst them, chasing off the black birds and tossing the dead into the back of a wagon for burial. The notion filled Victarion with disgust. No true son of the sea would want to rot beneath the ground. How would he ever find the Drowned God's watery halls, to drink and feast for all eternity? - The Reaver, AFFC

+.+.+

He beat his wife to death, and gave her to the crabs.

Actions like that are never met with poetic justice in this story.

Victarion knew that to mean the girl did not have a hump. Yet when he tried to picture her, he only saw the wife he'd killed. He had sobbed each time he struck her, and afterward carried her down to the rocks to give her to the crabs. - The Iron Captain, AFFC

"She was only a salt wife." He had not touched another woman since he gave her to the crabs. - The Iron Captain, AFFC

I should beat you raw and red and feed you to the crabs, the same as I did her. - The Reaver, AFFC

+.+.+

And he will absolutely positively never ever kill his brother.

No man is as accursed as the kinslayer, got it?

Euron Greyjoy, King of the Isles and the North. The thought woke an old rage in his heart, but still . . .

"Words are wind," Victarion told them, "and the only good wind is that which fills our sails. Would you have me fight the Crow's Eye? Brother against brother, ironborn against ironborn?" Euron was still his elder, no matter how much bad blood might be between them. No man is as accursed as the kinslayer. - The Iron Captain, AFFC

Victarion's hands closed into fists. He had beaten four men to death with those hands, and one wife as well. Though his hair was flecked with hoarfrost, he was as strong as he had ever been, with a bull's broad chest and a boy's flat belly. The kinslayer is accursed in the eyes of gods and men, Balon had reminded him on the day he sent the Crow's Eye off to sea. - The Iron Captain, AFFC

Victarion would not speak of kinslaying, here in this godly place beneath the bones of Nagga and the Grey King's Hall, but many a night he dreamed of driving a mailed fist into Euron's smiling face, until the flesh split and his bad blood ran red and free. I must not. I pledged my word to Balon. - The Iron Captain, AFFC

Balon had commanded them not to speak of it, but Balon was dead. "He put a baby in her belly and made me do the killing. I would have killed him too, but Balon would have no kinslaying in his hall. He sent Euron into exile, never to return . . ." - The Iron Captain, AFFC

The only blow he landed completed the ruin of Victarion's shield, but the cut the captain dealt in answer split his head in two. Would that I could deal with the Crow's Eye as simply. - The Reaver, AFFC

He drank in the darkness, brooding on his brother. If I do not strike the blow with mine own hand, am I still a kinslayer? Victarion feared no man, but the Drowned God's curse gave him pause. If another strikes him down at my command, will his blood still stain my hands? - The Reaver, AFFC

"I placed the crown upon his head," said the priest, seaweed dripping in his hair, "and gladly will I wrest it off again and crown you in his stead. Only you are strong enough to fight him."

"The Drowned God raised him up," Victarion complained. "Let the Drowned God cast him down." - The Reaver, AFFC

His oarsmen bent their backs toward Oakenshield, and the iron captain went belowdecks once again. "I could kill him," he told the dusky woman. "Though it is a great sin to kill your king, and a worse one to kill your brother." He frowned. - The Reaver, AFFC

He would give half his teeth for the chance to try his axe against the Kingslayer or the Knight of Flowers. That was the sort of battle that he understood. The kinslayer was accursed in the eyes of gods and men, but the warrior was honored and revered. - The Reaver, AFFC

One day I shall drink your wine, Crow's Eye, and take from you all that you hold dear. But was there anything Euron held dear? - The Reaver, AFFC

"A king must have a wife, to give him heirs. Brother, I have need of you. Will you go to Slaver's Bay and bring my love to me?"

I had a love once too. Victarion's hands coiled into fists, and a drop of blood fell to patter on the floor. I should beat you raw and red and feed you to the crabs, the same as I did her. - The Reaver, AFFC

+.+.+

But let's say the unthinkable happens, and Vicky does kill Euron - please understand drowning doesn't really count.

"Euron is elder," the priest said, "but Victarion is more godly."

"Will it come to war between them?" asked the maester.

"Ironborn must not spill the blood of ironborn."

"A pious sentiment, Damphair," said Goodbrother, "but not one that your brother shares. He had Sawane Botley drowned for saying that the Seastone Chair by rights belonged to Theon."

"If he was drowned, no blood was shed," said Aeron. - The Prophet, AFFC

+.+.+

AFFC: PART III

Touch me.

Chapter Transitions

JONSA 🐺❤️❄️

+.+.+

#operation stumpy re-read #foreshadowing smorgasbord #affc summary #anti daenerys #anti jonerys #jon snow #arya stark #stark vs. targ #storm x storm #house greyjoy #asoiaf

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nedlittle · 2 years

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as someone who only just finished gideon the ninth last sunday & finally understands the hype & hasn't finished the other books, PLEASE release the 11 pages of notes

your wish is my command, here are my notes verbatim typed from my tiny notebook (typos notwithstanding. i fixed those so i don't look stupid)

ACT I

P. 29 - before the duel, Harrow presents herself “emptied like a quiver” prefiguring the necromancer/cavalier dynamic and the fact that they will grow to need each other. The king & lionheart of it all…

P. 54 - Gideon tells Harrow: “Your heart is a party for ten thousand nails.” and I SCREAMED

P. 73: [paragraph describing Ianthe and Coronabeth in luxurious detail] “The boy just looked like a bit of a dick.” lesbianism

P. 76 - “He didn’t look healthy; he looked like a collection of lemons in a sack.” Why is this so evocative

SO funny that Harrow is like Griddle. You hog you need to do this correctly. Wear the damn face paint. And then it’s just a weird Ninth House thing. I love space Catholicism these bitches so deranged

Cannot read the “I pray the tomb stays locked forever. I pray the rock is never rolled away” prayer without it being to the tune of ‘No Children’

ACT II

P. 110 - “Coronabeth Tridentarius, Princess of Ida, took her hand and roguishly kissed the backs of Gideon’s knuckles.” I know there’s a whole essay on chivalry and gender on Tor but I guess I just want to say that there’s a really interesting subversion of the medieval lady/champion dynamic going on. Coronabeth kisses Gideon’s knuckles. Dulcinea has Gideon physically show off but Gideon, bound by her promise to Harrow, cannot talk and thus any typical structures for wooing are inverted. By her silence she is rendered as cool and unbreachable as a maiden in a tower

Something something Gideon’s physical body and her personhood always being someone else’s property.

All of Jeannemary’s dialogue with Magnus being parenthesized and in a smaller type is such a fun little touch

P. 125-6 - “[...] but she had fed her entire life into the meat grinder of hope.” Fuck me!

P. 128 - “She had never seen Harrowhark Nonagesimus’s naked face.” Harrow having to perform being Reverend Daughter not only her role but the entire house in the shape of a girl

[Angela Carter voice] a girl who is both death and the maiden

P. 151 - “You could have died today.” "you could finish me right now, if you liked. You might even win."......hot.

Every single one of Gideon’s silly nicknames for Harrow is perfect.

P. 152 - “She smiled again–slower than before, just as terrible, just as strange.” Okay Galadriel

P. 161 has the first time Gideon calls Harrow by her first name. By the end of the act it will be three times. Harrow has yet to say hers.

“P. 163 - “You can control my body. You can read my thoughts.” I believe this is what the kids call foreshadowing for book 2

Also on that page: “But first, Griddle, I’m afraid I have to pass out.” I love her.

Verbatim annotation from p. 167: ‘SHE’S NEVER HAD A DESERT :(‘

I know that they’re not friends but [John Darnielle voice]: people say friends don’t destroy each other what do they know about friends

Ianthe’s “I don’t live alternative histories” god I am so excited for her to be awful

The dynamic kind of reminds me of Sweet Smell of Success (1957) which features a similarly nasty yet reliant dynamic but it ends Far Worse. Very much we need each other to be a cohesive whole but that doesn’t mean we have to be nice

IT WAS THEIR ANNIVERSARY!!! NO

ACT III

I will be surprised if Dulcinea survives and also does not end up being marginally evil.

Not to sound like it’s 2014 and I just discovered all-female casts but I’m really into both the 2nd and 9th being the only ones with both necro + cav being women. I know it’s a basic thing and that there isn’t

a ton about the Second House yet but having the representatives of “The Emperor’s Strength” both be girls…nice

Naberius die challenge!

P. 200 - “He wouldn’t have let anything happen to Abigail [...] She hated heights. She never would have risked falling.” I am howling like a shot wolf.

First of all, Gideon being affected by Magnus’s death because he was nice to her without any ulterior motives: OUCH. Second, “we are all the sons and daughters that the House of the Ninth possess.” The Twelfth Night of it all…the performance of it all. (“I am all the daughters of my father’s house and all the brothers too.” 2.4)

The Harrow who lives in my head has a mullet

UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES WILL I EVER DESIRE YOUR JUICE

The First time Harrow calls Gideon by her name is p. 228

The choice of ‘spawned’ to refer to Harrow’s birth feels deliberate and I’m sure I’ll find out why later. Also the Scandalous Nudity being her face rather than her body when they’re both bare…it’s about living around and under the foot of someone your whole life but never being allowed to know them

P. 234 - Gideon can’t even say Harrow’s name aloud to anyone else…I wish to die! Swiftly!

P. 246 - Gideon has a hot bath for the first time (yay!) and wonders “whether water could get inside of you and make you sick.” God the Ninth House really is living in Vampire Times. Aristotle, you there?

The way all the different houses approach necromancy and the necro/cav dynamic is SO interesting! Cam’s line on p. 235 about the Eight “breed[ing] batteries” absolutely chilled me. Also the juxtaposition between the Eighth using cavaliers as an energy source vs Ianthe, absolute freak, taking a chunk out of Babs. The physical body vs the energy which propels it. Then contrasting that with pairs like Magnus & Abigail (rip) and Cam & Pal who mentally and emotionally rely on each other instead. It isn’t parasitic. KING AND LIONHEART! GO CRAZY AAH! GO STUPID AAH!

I am using all of my meager brain cells to formulate a thought about Camilla and Marta’s fight that isn’t just. wrow. women. OK. The description is short and brutal like the fight itself. The line about Cam fighting like a grease fire works so well my blood was in my EARS! When she dislocated Marta’s arm my own arm jerked back in shock. Fully almost yeeted the book

Yay for Pal also getting a hot moment. One man <3

“Harrow “rose to the occasion like an evening star”....DEATH FIRST TO VULTURES AND SCAVENGERS…I love her something awful.

My highlighter ran out on p. 275 because I highlighted basically the whole page. The girls HUG!! Gideon lifts Harrow off the ground! Unsure if I should tag myself as ‘midnight hagette’ or Harrow’s utter lesbian brain death. At “It feels like forever” I genuinely screamed into my hands. God they’re it. THEY’RE IT.

P. 284 - “Gideon wanted her longsword and she wanted Harrow.” yeah me too

P. 285 - Jeannemary: “I hated [Isaac] when we were little, he wasn’t at all what I wanted.” ough the parallels

I know that naming a character ‘Isaac’ in your space opera about traumatized Catholics is sort of like naming a character ‘sacrifice’ and yet it’s still so gut wrenching! I love and I hate when characters fall victim to the prophecies within their names

Speaking of Biblical etymology, I see you Judith Deuteros. Please decapitate a dude

I knew about the Sex Pal joke and still guffawed

CHAPTERS 26-34

The description of Isaac’s body as a “broken sieve” really upset me and also harkens back to Harrow being empty as a quiver. The necromancer’s body as something which exists to be filled by energy and power, but also something so vulnerable as to demand the physical protection and occasional energy of its cavalier

P. 292 - “When [Dulcinea] breathed it sounded like custard sloshing around an air conditioner.” Absolutely Fucking Wretched!!!

P. 294 - “Mostly cancer and just a little bit of women.” each House really is fucked up in new and exciting ways

Gideon’s nightmare of finding Jeannemary’s severed limbs in her bed really kneecaps you. It’s giving Bluebeard. It’s giving Robber Bridegroom. It’s giving cavaliers as expendable physical forms, and that kind of body horror hasn’t quite been present aside from the avulsion room which wasn’t so bad

P. 331 - “What would you do if you discovered Camilla was a murderer?” "Help her bury the body." G O D

This entire page kills me. For some reason the one year difference and the choice to say “I’ve known her as long as she’s lived” like Harrow’s life is contingent on Gideon’s. One flesh one end B I T C H ! !

Also on that page: “She nearly killed me half a dozen times growing up, but I always knew why.” ok cool!

WAS NOT READY FOR THIS REVELATION???

I have run out of insightful commentary but Harrow wanting “prey, rival, and audience all wrapped up in one.” vs Gideon being “hungry for the Reverend Daughter’s preoccupation”. Don’t you think they’re the same thing? Love and attention? They’re both watching and being watched. Portrait of a Lady on Fire shit

I think Harrow and Cam should hold hands if only because they’d both hate it

Tamsyn loves a prophetic name. I thought she’d subverted it with Protisilaus but nope. Dead all along. First to die

Ianthe’s head pun…what is wrong with her

P. 352 - genuinely don’t have anything of substance to say about the pool scene but “I am exactly two hundred sons and daughters of my House, Griddle–I am the whole generation of the Ninth.” All this PLUS Harrow piloting her parents to keep the Ninth functioning. Christ.

P. 355 - “I am tired of being two hundred corpses.” ouch ouch ouch ouch ouch ouch ouch

Incredibly normal that Harrow’s parents were like hello our ten-year-old war crime daughter time for our group suicide! Here, I’ll tie your noose :) normal family!

I haven’t quite the familiarity with Antigone to say there’s an Antigone parallel somewhere but hmm

Cannot talk about the rest of this scene. I can barely look at it. YOU ARE MY ONLY FRIEND! I AM UNDONE WITHOUT YOU!!

Oh to have your only friend Gideon Nav kiss you on the forehead

I love you 4’11” teenage saint war crime necrophiliac

Gideon choosing to sleep in the cavalier bed. It’s about devotion as both a contract and an active choice. ‘I Will Follow You Into the Dark’ shit. I’m sick

P. 371 - “Dead as space, though accurately, that’s been true for a very, very long time.” I know this refers to Teacher but also stars themselves transmit light for millennia after they burn out. The cosmos itself as a haunted house

Why does the Emperor have a cohort anyway? What enemies are there that an army is necessary to grind children through? I need to know more about this

Cannot articulate this but Ianthe having to be a true necromancer and eating Babs to become a lyctor IS feminist not just because it’s such an overcome male power trip moment but also because it seems that In Media we can only have female villains if they’re tormented and redeemed by the end, they aren’t allowed to be deranged little freaks like this. She’s the damn joker!

REST IN PISS BABS. Again, genuinely progressive that Ianthe eats him and absorbs his perfect cavalier training; then, when she cannot keep it up she turns into a SKIN SHIELD?? [John Darnielle voice] come unhinged! Get revenge!

You’re really eased into the body horror and then Act IV is like hey kid you’re going to experience body horrors beyond your comprehension.

CHAPTERS 35-END

Thinking about 8-year-old Palamedes writing to 15-year-old Dulcinea about how he’s determined to cure her. Also interesting to think that something so mundane as cancer still exists in this world where people are regularly getting bodied by skeletons

Oh, re: Pal, I forgot to highlight this but there’s a line a few (?) chapters back where he surveys his work and sees that it’s good which is directly from god creating the universe

P. 400 - “[Gideon’s] brain was full of sweet fuck all.” yeah girl me too

Every single man in this book has died. Feminism but also Palamedes my friend :(

“Tell Camilla–oh never mind, she knows what to do.” Doctor Who vibes (sorry) “If you see Rose, tell her…tell her…oh, she knows.”

P. 406 - “Camilla Hect off the leash was like light moving across water. She punched her knives into the Lyctor’s guard over and over and over. Cytherea met them ably, but such was Camilla’s speed and perfect hate that she could only hope to block the thunderstorm of blows; she could not even begin to push back against them.” The wording here feels so deliberately Homeric! It’s her aristeia!

It doesn’t mention this in the after matter, but I am choosing to believe Cam was named after Camilla in the Aeneid. She HAS to be!!

I understand why people scream at Marvel movies now but the more apt comparison for Gideon & her two-hander is the re-forging of Anduril. I can hear the score

P. 412 - “I need to be inside you.” NOW IS NOT THE TIME HARROW!!

P. 414 - “Did you behold me, Griddle?” she got yeeted by a vertebrae string because she was too busy beholding you, Harrow!

Rosary-whip made of knuckles. What a great time to be ex-Catholic. This is so hot of her

Camilla Hect aroace icon. Send tweet.

A climactic boss fight where all 5 characters are women…wrow

FUCK YEAH DISMEMBERMENT!!

P. 429 - “All you have to do is live.” Harrow begging Gideon to do the one thing she thought was impossible as a child

Oh these bitches in LOVE

I love “undeserved” forgiveness

[holds Harrowhark Nonagesimus] you do not have to be good you do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting you only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves

I’m sorry I have zero thoughts I’m just saying ROMANCE ROMANCE ROMANCE ROMANCE ROMANCE ROMANCE over and over and over again in my head

“First flower of my House” is the most romantic shit I’ve ever heard get it OUT of my face. That is not something you come up with on the spot…

The cruelest thing anyone has ever done to Harrow in her life is willingly die for her…

P. 436 - “They were cheek to cheek: Gideon’s arm and Harrow’s arm entwined, holding the sword aloft, letting the steel catch the light.” No THIS is the most romantic shit

Harrow/Pal lavender marriage of the century lmao

Gideon & Harrow 🤝 Gimli & Legolas

Quoting the verses of the Book of Ruth that’s commonly used at weddings

Hey at least I successfully guessed that Dulcinea would be evil & dead by the end. I love being right

IN SUMMARY: DEATH DYING SUFFERING ROMANCE PAIN

#going back through these notes and the amount of stuff i accidentally foreshadowed....#what you don't see is rebecca-dewinters and i opening each other's notes only to realize that we wrote/quoted the same thing #anyway book good i feel cuckoo bananas #the locked tomb #alittletoosaintjust #answered

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autumn-foxfire · 2 years

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Oh no wait for the worse one not empathize. I thought differently than that anon(the flashback scene is about Shoji not Spinner as others believe because the coastal setting matches up) but maybe they both had similar experiences can be the direction HK is going. First Koda the gentlest UA kid is attacked for a being privileged city mutant, Rocklock(blasian) is told to shut up about discrimination because he won't understand and in the end Shoji is attacked and this is his big moment and reveal*

*that's been foreshadowed since forever(also him being the one to make friends with Spinner was established when he shook hands with that Shark girl in UA). His Talk no Jutsu? The heroes thought of the patient and civillian safety first when storming the hospital but you people aren't showing similar compassion at all. Cringe expositing the violent and mindless 10000s mutant civillian mob led on by a MLA pupeteer and effigy(half-nomufied and dumbed Spinner) for audience only.

Honestly this recent chapter sounds like a complete mess. A friend shared with me more about what is going on (about how Spinner is not in control completely because of AFO).

I'm sad that this is Shoji's big moment that Hori spoke about as it wasn't even set up correctly. Mutant discrimination was only ever included in his story when it was useful to Hori and it's honestly so insulting, especially now he's trying to spin the narrative that only "non-city" folk experience it just to excuse why most of his mutant characters haven't encountered it.

And then how he's handling it is offensive, with the inclusion of Rock Lock being told that he wouldn't understand?! It's so disgustingly tone deaf of him.

This storyline should have been dropped. It wasn't set up right in the narrative and it shows. Seriously, I don't know what Hori or whoever his editor is, is thinking.

#bnha critical #thanks for the ask!!

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originemesis · 1 month

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@deathinfeathers xxx

If at any point she had been tempted to lay her hands on him in anger it would be in this exact, singular, isolated instant. Isolated because she cannot feasibly begin to conceptualize what he could possibly do to ever raise her hackles any higher than he has with this bullshit retort. That he has the unbridled gall, not only to give her lip; as if this were some average Saturday evening lover's quarrel centered around something as inconsequential as who threw a wrench into tonight's dinner plans by failing to take the cutlets out of the freezer, but to get choked up while he's at it. Did you forget who I am? He says, as if she should have known better. As if she should have...what? Taken his serenade in the garden as some type of premonition? A foreshadowing? She knew he was a disaster. From the moment she was dropped into his arms with a ribbon and a blank where a name should be like a puppy on Christmas morning, she knew. And she was fine with it. Never has there been a moment where she let herself assume that he had his shit together—God knows he made it impossible to fall prey to such a misbelief. But, again, it was fine. It was always fine. More than fine, even. There was an odd sense of catharsis to be found in the chaos that he sowed. She enjoyed watching the bureaucrats squirm and clutch their rosaries whenever he walked into a room, that he was the word disruption given corporeal shape to their simple, sanitized lives in the same manner that she herself was. It was fine, because at the end of the day, no matter how he was spurned for his provocative ways and how she was abhorred for her grizzly nature, they had each other.

"That wasn't a rhetorical question." Words flow like ice water past the tapered crests of the pearly glaciers between her lips. She cannot query him on what the fuck he was thinking at the time—or what the fuck he's been thinking for the past four hundred and something years until he starts giving it to her straight. And by Sera's immaculately polished taint, he will—even if she has to sit here and autopsy him with her eyes for another godforsaken century, he will. "time to rip the band-aid off, don't you think? I mean, ideally you would have begun picking at it at the very least, a few hundred years ago. Better late than never, though, hmm?" She's sure the proximity is suffocating to him, fingers still lingering against his skin like surgeon's scalpels. A free hand rises to capture a lock of his hair between the pads of two digits. Loosely twisting. There's no warmth in her ministrations, just a reminder that she is here and she will not be escaped.

Sure, he'd been far sweeter to her than in the past in the months leading up to their final extermination together. Perhaps not so much during the battle itself when Lucifer's brat dared to show up for a confrontation that was never hers to intervene in and ruin the restrictions of his contract with her whore mother by looking so chokeable. Such was his temper every year when faced with the scuttling and skittering shadows that filled hell and excited his avian urge to trap wriggling beasts beneath talons- to tear and rip until all was right in the garden of his mind again. Anyone that got in his way was subject to the innate ire he's carried ever since the world's first betrayal- even her. A space rock shared between them was sweet and all, but it was hardly a muzzle.

It had been easier for him to ignore the real reasons why they entered hell together every year. They'd done it so often that it had finally started to feel like something that just was and would always be- a purpose...a reason for being. Ultimately a reason for them being together, for what was a commander without his lieutenant in the grand scheme of a seraphim's plan to keep heaven safe? Only when heaven was safe, it meant there was no reason for him to be there anymore since it was clear that no one had a reason for him being there to begin with. He would not fade into obscurity again...he would not be left behind again. He'd make sure no one would ever abandon him. How could she if her only purpose was tied to his? Lie that it was. They could never be apart in the end, even if he thought she could find her own place without him now with her at the head of his so called legacy.

"You're fucking rhetorical." He hisses through clenched teeth, finding it hard to fall beneath her scrutiny now- unmasked in more ways than simply being without his helmet. "There's nothing you'll ever be able to tell me about what I've done that I don't already fucking know. Why even scratch at it at all?!" But even if he hadn't, something was starting to bleed through his guise - rather the lack of one now that he was growing into the features that were always under the surface and yet struggled to break through no matter how much his bullish behaviors disrupted the heavens that tolerated him for so long.

The soft pads of her fingers twisting at his hair was no longer the sweet gesture he might stir awaken to and press into to remind himself that despite everything - she was there and would stay with him... now it was some effort on her part to determine what sort of animal he was. Better to show her now so she'd stop torturing him under her thinly veiled judgement.

"You want to see me so bad, babe...? You want something REAL?"

With a sharp twist of his neck, he butted the stubby end of a horn nub against her persistent pinching, a growl growing in his throat until it thundered out. The reverberations distorted him- or rather revealed what had been there all along. Tipped ears punctured with the metal of a melted down halo disappeared behind a couple of golden feather tufts while flesh darkened to a shade of a starless universe save for the two pinpricks of gold that signaled he still had sight despite it being reduced to singular grains of sand. A forked tongue fell free all the way past his chin where it could curl underneath and comfort the curve of the lump in his throat after issuing her a warning snarl.

"LOOK- AT ME THEN!" Claws curled in and flexed against his palms as the ends of his elbows sprouted more feathers forming a fan between them and up the bottom of his forearms that wrapped tightly around his ribs as he grew in place with a lurch above the talons that erupted out of his feet and dug into the ground- chicken feet, or some prehistoric rendition of them keeping him perched at the tips of their talons with a fanned tail lashing behind him for balance. He'd stuff it all back down in a moment- mask it under the strength it took to keep the disgusting display under wraps, but first...he needed to drive her away- and this time, maybe she'd stay gone.

"Is THIS what you want?!" This was real.

#//birb boy amgery #//the chaos chicken comes out in full force #verse ; // dead on arrival #long post #deathinfeathers #//it's a writing struggle day feel free to bully me about what any of this means on dms lolol

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mykingdommusic · 8 months

Text

ARTIFICIAL HEAVEN debut on My Kingdom Music

ARTIFICIAL HEAVEN have signed to My Kingdom Music for the release of their debut album "Digital Dreams" out on January 12, 2024. A Roman band, formed at the end of October 2021 from the ashes of Witches Of Doom and other previous projects, ARTIFICIAL HEAVEN have created a diverse mix of Gothic Rock with an epic feel demonstrating in full the influences of the greats of the eighties including The Cult, Bauhaus, Sisters of Mercy, Fields of the Nephilim, Killing Joke and Iggy Pop. The band played live several times in the Rome area before locking themselves in The Outer Sound Studios with producer Giuseppe Orlando (Inno - The Foreshadowing - November) to record "Digital Dreams", a concentration of Gothic and Post-Punk vibes enriched by the collaboration of illustrious guests including Francesco Sosto, keyboards in The Foreshadowing and Riccardo Studer, keyboards in Stormlord. Although it isn't a true concept album, some of the lyrics of "Digital Dreams" are linked together by a clear common thread namely the acceleration of the digital revolution and its effects on the lives of us all. The overload of information that influences the ways in which each of us interfaces with ourselves and with the outside world. The shift in personal priorities towards the enslaved giving in to one's innermost desires, to be achieved partially through the abuse of social networks.

A journey that leads to being locked inside an artificial paradise where the enslaved do not rebel against their condition but are happy to feed on their "sweet" digital dreams.

Artificial Heaven are: Fabio Oliva – vocals, Fed Venditti – guitars, Lorenzo Valerio – drums, Stefano Romani – bass

#mykingdommusic #mykingdommusicnation #artificialheaven #gothicrock #gothic #postpunk #stoner #TheCult #Bauhaus #SistersofMercy #FieldsOfTheNephilim #KillingJoke #IggyPop

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copihueart · 9 months

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SUGGESTIONS

Phantasmagorias of rose, fragments of a star where light filters and radiates toward infinity and wings cross in the motion of the tides to draw a triangle that glides toward the earth in a precise search for a place to land. They will be shudders of time, which imprecise turns into cones of ripe unreality that are traces of the past and yearnings for the future. What trapped truths it hides, what desires, what emotions that escape the human intellect and hang in this strip of celestial where other planets continue their perpetual motion There are questions with difficult answers, misguided doubts that trap the heart and leave a trail of recourses buried by mists. Memories of distant events, yearnings of the hot midday winds that open cracks in deserts, that dishevel plants and lie light in the green coolness of the woods. They are a waste of the soul, of the uncertainty of living, of the changing seasons, of the years that flee away and one cannot catch them. They are gates of blue, polished creeks where rivers flow slowly and go to die. They are traps for scattered men, indifferent to the logic of emptiness, lounging in the desolate nights of gloomy winters. They are gates that have neither home nor destiny, passages of nebulae, aimless comets, little remnants of humanity that motionless station themselves in the swamps of thought. Then voices become insistent, joining the din of the world and overlapping into minute indistinct noises that seek the magic sound of speech. They are unfamiliar faces, rising from the shadows, sweeping across the fields and drawing plains, multitudes who know no truth and slipping toward disaster. Are we the ones locked in cages ? Who gamble and confuse the real with the abstraction of the moment, who evaluate every gesture and criticize events, who set ourselves up as supreme judges in spite of creation and then let go at the slightest obstacle. There are hardly detectable portals that also await our gaze, that intersect with numbers and transmit their energy beyond our perception of the moment, that call us to distinguish the true from the false, that invite us to discern in the spasmodic pursuit of happiness. Today the rose petals lose their humor, only their trail of fragrance and the enchantment of that flourishing moment that saw them rise lushly from the stem and slump to the ground as nourishment, for a renewed and wise cycle that sees death and rebirth establish their continuity. There are no landscapes to invent, no new cities to build, no relationships worth strengthening. They are ephemeral cadences that are consumed in human perceptions, that distort relationships, that cross storms and times of flat calm, that follow trails in the skies and the glowing lapilli of volcanoes, that end up flung into steep cliffs and that go to fertilize fallow lands. It is our figures reflected in mirrors that show us what we really are, strands of dna, assembled by chance, purging their quirks and whims wanting to make definite sense of the actions we take. We lack wings and the desire to fly, the longing for redemption, the hunger of oceans crashing against rock, the willingness to embrace nature and follow its evolution. The harmonious song that sets it apart and calls us to a slow, careful, thrifty pace. We miss the light, that radiant whole that illuminates deeds and foreshadows love. Love as the guiding thread, as the supreme longing, as the song of songs that groups in itself all that energy that radiates in the present and can lead us to ultimate freedom

#Freedom #redeption #ultimate #actions #change #song #groups

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collbrationproject · 1 year

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Game events: The boiler room

This is the second level which starts off with a tense atmosphere, making the player tense with slight jump scares and just silence. Afterwards, it’s another chase but with a focus on dodging obstacles. This part reveals a lot about the organisation and the ‘monster’s that are actually people being turned into them because of whatever is in the meteor.

The kid exits the vent and finds themselves in the living quarters. The door is locked so they have to search around, moving bits and bobs about to find the key. Some of those things are notes talking about the organisation being boring and just a ton of training. After finding the key, the kid unlocks the door and goes through into a corridor and into the cafeteria which looks deserted. The doors exiting the cafeteria are blocked, which then involves grabbing a table and pushing it up to the door, so they can climb over the barricade and drop down the other side. After some more walking about, the kid can enter other living quarters and read more notes about the ship’s backstory. They will come to a sealed door that can only be opened by a keycard, which is hidden somewhere in the rooms. After going into one and grabbing it, a monster arrives and the kid has to hide and sneak around it. Once they use the keycard to open the door, they can enter and lock the door behind them. The kid goes down some stairs into a boiler room. There is a massive boiler open and stepping into the heat kills you so the kid must hide behind a covered trolley, which rocks back and forth because of the ship. After that, the kid will have to climb under and jump over hot pipes. Again, touching one is instant death (Foreshadowing another symptom of infection which is tolerance to extreme temperatures). After that, the kid will go through another vent which goes above a nest of sleeping monsters. Following the vent through, the kid will come across a room with dead bodies of the crew of the ship. The Morningstar is also there and one of the monsters takes some stuff from the meteor and puts it on the crew. The crew freak out for a few seconds before instantly changing into one of the monsters! The kid gasps and it alerts all the monsters, so the kid continues quickly and comes out of the vent into another boiler room. Instead of using a trolley, the door will open and shut because of the ship rocking. So the kid will have to move when the door is closed and continue just as the monsters appear and chase him again. The kid will have to again go under and jump over boiling pipes whilst being chased. They come to a dead end and the kid is cornered and looks like he is going to die. But suddenly a pipe goes off and smoke blocks the monsters off, a rope is thrown from the roof and another kid’s voice tells the kid to climb up. After climbing up, they find a young girl in a hospital gown who calls herself: H and that they should go.

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suicidalslasher · 3 years

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𝑛𝑖𝑔𝘩𝑡 𝑐𝘩𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑠 ➤ 𝑏𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑙. & 𝑠𝑡𝑢 𝑚.

In which the reader comes home, completely broken-hearted and her two friends, Stu Macher and Billy Loomis, come in to put a smile on her face and show her how much they love her.

WARNINGS: This is a smut but not well written, lol. It’s mainly just oral, both receiving and giving. (male and female.) Also, if you squeeze your eyes really tight, you may get a glimpse of slight foreshadowing in which Billy and Stu killed the guy that broke the reader’s heart but blink and you might miss it. Anyways. Enjoy.

(Y/N) lied upon a soft feather mattress, cocooning herself in the silk sheets. A sad sigh surpassing her lips as the realization settles in, hitting her like a ton of bricks, like a cold bucket of water was thrown on her. She's alone. The room feels empty. Wait, no, scratch that.

It is empty. It's dark and cold and lonesome. As many blankets that surround her and although she has many draped around her body, her skin still somehow prickles with goosebumps and she's shivering.

Though, she knows it's not because she's cold. She isn't shaking because of that. Not really. Before she could stop herself, her eyes start to glisten with tears, the corner of her eyes pooling with water and slowly but surely, they slide down her skin, wetting her cheeks. Goddammit. God fucking dammit, she thinks, reaching over and grabbing the duvet comforter, she slides it over her head. Broken, silent sobs then proceed to escape past her lips, although she oh so desperately tries to hold them back. She fails miserably. Then, out of nowhere, she hears a little knock, followed by another. Rolling over to lay on her stomach, (Y/N) buries her face into the nearest pillow, causing mascara tears to soak and stain the cushion as she continues to cry and sob. Before she realizes it or even can acknowledge it, the window to her bedroom is being pulled up and her friends, Billy Loomis and Stu Macher, step inside her bedroom. "(Y/N)?" (Y/N) is quick to flip around upon hearing her name, her heart hammering wildly against her chest.

"S-Stu? Billy? What the Hell are you guys doing here?" She relaxes, having seen her friends standing by her bedroom window rather than the man everybody was fearing lately in Woodsboro.

A masked man with a dark cloak and a spine-chilling voice. She was lucky she hadn't heard what he sounded like, she had enough nightmares as is. It was hard to say whether or not it was a man behind the mask but regardless, whatever sex the person was, they were crazy, inside and out. End of story. (Y/N) makes a mental note, reminding herself to lock her window next time and to keep track of that before she gets comfortable and goes to bed. Especially with what was happening everywhere in Woodsboro. "We wanted to make sure you were okay." Billy said, walking over to the girl as he sat down next to her, the mattress sinking beneath his weight. Stu followed, nodding happily as he shows a few VHS tapes, gesturing them over to (Y/N).

"We brought movies to watch and snacks, too!" He exclaimed as he then pulled out a small plastic bag, dumping out the items onto her bed.

There was chips and candy and they were all her favorite flavors and brands, too. (Y/N) felt the tears pooling in the corner of her eyes again at the sweet gesture her friends were sharing with her. "Oh... c'mon, don't be such a cry baby." Stu snickered but he wrapped his arms around (Y/N) and pulled her into a side hug, Billy following right behind, hugging her from her right.

"We love you, we've got your back, always, okay?" "What Stu said. Besides, this world doesn’t deserve an angel like you, (Y/N).” "Mhm." Stu nodded. "I really liked him, that's all..... I should've known it was a set up to get back with his ex." (Y/N) said with a sniffle, running a hand over her face as she tries to rid herself of any left over makeup, especially getting rid of the mascara, although, if she were positive, that and her eyeliner were most likely now resting on the pillow she had cried into rather than on her face. "Well, he's a fucking idiot." Billy growled. "He doesn't see how perfect you are, (Y/N)." "Billy and I see that, though." Stu said, taking his hand off from her shoulder as he now rests his hand on her thigh, giving her a reassuring squeeze. It made (Y/N)'s breath hitch in her throat and she bites on her lower lip, nervously.

What were they doing....? She thinks. “We would do anything for you. Absolutely anything.” Billy said. "We'd do anything just to see you happy, just to see you smile..." Stu continued. "You deserve nothing but the best, deserve nothing but happiness." "So, please... (Y/N)... let us give you that. Let us show you how beautiful and loved you really are. We love you.... we love you so much-" "We love you so much we'd kill for you." Billy looks over at Stu, giving him a questioning glare and (Y/N) goes to ask what that stare meant but her words are loss and any train of thought she had left the building once she feels both hands of Billy and Stu's on her thighs.

One on her left, the other on her right. "So.... no movies then?" (Y/N) asked jokingly. Her heart, like earlier, was pounding so loud she swore both boys could hear it against her chest. Her body was trembling as it had done earlier but now, it wasn't from sadness or feeling broken but rather hot and bothered.

She did always have an attraction to Billy and Stu, she'd be a liar to say she didn't. "We can watch them later. Right now, we want to see those legs of yours sprawled out, give us a view of that pretty pussy." (Y/N) whined softly but she obeyed, and while she did, Billy grunted while Stu spoke softly, "Such a good girl for us. You're our good girl, aren't you, sweetheart?" (Y/N) nodded as she stretched her legs on either side of her. All she was wearing was a thin gown, one that matched her sheets, being the fact both were silk.

"Oh.... so pretty, so beautiful." Stu purred, licking his lips, his eyes growing darker while Billy's did the same. "Naughty though.... aren't you, baby? Not wearing any panties." Billy chuckled as he stood up, feet landing on the carpeted floor with a soft thud as he walks over to (Y/N), undoing his jeans and the belt that had been neatly placed in the hoops of the pants.

"Is it okay if you suck me off, darling? You want to be a good girl, don't you?" (Y/N) says nothing, she's unable to speak. It was as if a cat had captured her tongue and ran off with it, and she couldn't get it back from the creature. She feels paralyzed, too. Everything feels as if it's going by too fast.

What an odd day.... she thinks. She didn't expect this to happen, not now, not ever. But she wasn't angry at it or the outcome of tonight's misfortune. It was just crazy how fast the night changes. "Baby? I asked you a question... If you know what’s good for you, you better answer me.” "Y-yes." (Y/N) stammered, feeling heat rise to her cheeks. "I'd love to suck you off, please, may I?" "Oh!" Stu chirped, giggling as he shook his head from side to side, a wicked grin playing out across his lips. "She's got manners, fuck - we really found the perfect girl, haven't we, Billy?" "Mhm." Billy said, pressing his cock to her lips. "Open up, sweetie. Let's see how pretty you look with a mouth full of cock." While (Y/N) parts her lips open, and as Billy pushes himself in her wet and warm mouth, (Y/N) feels heat against her clit and before she can put two and two together, Stu's devouring her pussy with his tongue and she squeaks, bucking her hips up into his touch. "Fuck! She tastes incredible. Can't believe I haven't gotten to you sooner." Stu said before pressing his face back in between her thighs, licking and lapping her cunt with his tongue, making her tremble and shake.

(Also makes her almost choke and gag on Billy's cock as he presses his cock further down her throat.) Above, Billy nodded as he rocked his hips back and forth, eyes half-lidded, not quite shut but not all the way open either, as he grunts out an answer; "She's good with her mouth too, Stu." He said.

"Not sure I can last long, sweetheart..." He warned and right as the words slip from his lips, it didn't take less than a second until (Y/N)'s mouth is being filled with Billy's creamy, white load.

"Oh.... fuck!" He grunts, pulling back as he drops down next to her on the bed.

"Go on, baby. Cum for Stu. You wanna be good for him too, don't you? Go on and cum.... cum all over his tongue, beautiful. I'm sure he'll love the taste of your juices, exploding into his mouth." And fuckfuckfuck.....

FUCK~!!

"O-Oh!" (Y/N) mewls, bucking her hips into his mouth once more as the sweet release of her orgasm floods out of her and into Stu's mouth. Happily, Stu licks every drop up, pulling back with a very much pleased and satisficed smile.

"Both her and her pussy are so sweet." Stu complimented, now crawling up onto the bed and resting beside her, tucking his face into her neck as he presses a few ghostly kisses on her skin. "Love you."

"I love you, too."

"And what about me?" Billy said with a playful pout.

"I love you too, Billy Loomis." (Y/N) admitted, grinning as she scooted a few inches over, patting the empty spot next to her. "Sleep with us?"

Billy smiled in reply as he plopped down next to his now lovers, curling up in (Y/N)'s side and kissing the other side of her neck, the way Stu had done previously.

"I'll treat you to a good time too, tomorrow," (Y/N whispered, mainly to Stu but she turned and repeated the sentence to Billy as well. The boys look at each other with a smirk, giving one a knowingly glance before they turned back to (Y/N).

"Sounds like a plan, baby." The smile she wore across her lips falls into a frown and the boys are quick to sit up, having seen the smile turn upside down. "Baby, are you okay?" "Yeah." "Babe....don't you lie to us." "I'm not." She answers truthfully. "But.... this- I mean, us three, it's real, right?" She gestures in the air with a wave of her hand. "You won't play with my feelings and hurt me-" "Baby." Billy's voice is rough and cold, and his grip on her is far from affectionate and soft. "We'd kill for you, remember?" "We love you so much, (Y/N) you have no idea to what limits we'd go to prove that to you.” She didn't understand why the two kept repeating that very first sentence but she didn't question it, didn't think anything of it. She smiled and nodded, rubbing at her eyes now tiredly.

"I love you both, too. Now... before I get too tired, can we watch those movies you rented?" Billy laughed softly as Stu scrambled up and on his feet, grabbing the candy and the films that had fallen on the bed off of the floor and goes to set the VHS player up, clicking the TV on with a push of a button.

"You're gonna love these, (Y/N)! It's a new horror movie that came out!" "As long as it's not a slasher with a mask like the one that's hanging around in Woodsboro, I'm fine with anything. Whenever that monster goes away, I'll be fine and more than happy to watch slasher films again... just not now." She says with a laugh. "Don't worry, baby. With us around, you’ll be safe and sound. We’ll protect you.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

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girl4music · 3 years

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BUFFY REWATCH - S04E22 - Restless

Tara: “I think it’s strange. I mean, I think I should worry that we haven’t found her name.”

Willow: “Who, Miss Kitty?”

*shot of their kitten, playing with a ball of red yarn in slow-motion*

Tara: “You’d think she’d let us know her name by now.”

Willow: “She will.

*looking down at Tara*

She’s not all grown yet.”

Tara: “You’re not worried?”

Willow: “I never worry here. I’m safe here.”

Tara: “You don’t know everything about me.”

Willow: “Have you told me your real name?”

Tara: “Oh, you know that.

*Willow smiles, reaches for something. Shot of a paintbrush dipping into ink jars*

They will find out, you know. About you.”

Willow: “Don’t have time to think about that. You know I have all this homework to finish.”

*the camera pulls back so we can see Tara is lying face-down on her bed, naked, and Willow is painting on her back*

Tara: “Are you gonna finish in time for class?”

Willow: “I can be late.”

Tara: “But you’ve never taken drama before.

*shot of Willow dipping the paintbrush again, moving it across to Tara’s back, which is covered with Greek symbols*

Might miss something important.”

Willow: “I don’t wanna leave here.”

*Tara twists back to look at her*

Tara: “Why not?”

*Willow stands up, looking down at Tara. She turns away toward a dark red curtain. Walks over to it*

Willow: “It’s so bright.

*pulls back the curtain to reveal a brightly sunlit desert. The light falls on Tara, who looks over. Looking back at Tara, still holding the curtain open*

And there’s something out there.”

*shot of the desert, straggly plants, rocks. We briefly see something (someone?) moving, then it’s gone. Shot of the kitten stalking forward toward the camera, in slow-motion*

I have been so anxious to get to this episode and write my meta. For all the time I’ve brought up Willow’s insecurities, this is the one and only episode that lays them all bare for everybody to see, if - and this is important -, you are clever enough to decipher the code of visual symbolism and possess the ability of interpretation. Pretty much all of the episode ‘Restless’ requires you to interpret what you see. You’re not told straight-forwardly what the dreams, each of the core 4 Scooby members have, are about and that’s precisely what I love about it and why it is probably my most favourite episode of the whole show.

Now, obviously, I’m only going to be talking about Willow’s dream in the episode because if I were to do an analysis of every character’s dream, I’d be here all day and this recap would be incredibly long. I would suggest watching YouTuber Passion Of The Nerd’s analysis for it to get the whole picture. Much of what I will write here will draw from that as I agree with quite a lot of it and think it makes a lot of sense in understanding each character. Every character has fears, worries and insecurities, and that’s what these dreams are specifically about, but Willow’s go much deeper than can be witnessed in all of the show due to her “hiding” them under a “thinly-veiled” persona of who she wants to be. For the most part, you only get to see who she wants you to see. It is not until this episode that all of Willow’s real thoughts and feelings take center-stage - quite literally. There’s a reason why both her dreams in ‘Nightmares’ and ‘Restless’ have her performing on stage. The former, being more about stage fright and about wanting to go unnoticed. The latter, about acting like something she’s not and “putting on a show” of confidence and security to the other characters, who she fears knows about “the real her”, and the audience watching her. Now, “the real her” is as ambiguous as this entire dream sequence is - meaning: it depends on your point of view who Willow is. And this is why I clash with @confusedguytoo about Willow often regarding my views and opinions on Willow. They see something different to me. However, I’ll let them better explain that if they so wish to. I’ll only explain what I see - in Willow - and in this episode.

I relate Willow’s insecurities to her accumulation of power and need for control. For me, much of what I interpret in ‘Restless’ ties in and very much foreshadows Willow’s magic addiction and ‘Dark Willow’ storyline in Season 6 because, to me, Dark Willow is less about the Magicks and more about power and rage, (Anya interjects here: “and vengeance, don’t forget vengeance”). So I will go through the meaning of Willow’s dream in ‘Restless’ from the way I interpret it and in my own words:

Starting off, we have Willow sat on Tara’s bed with Tara (well, actually Tara is laying down on it and Willow is sat on it.) Tara is turned away from Willow as Willow paints some writing on her bare back (see Passion Of The Nerd’s analysis to know what is being written because it’s very significant to the scene.) This part of Willow’s dream has more to do with Tara than Willow, but it’s important to remember that it’s all from Willow’s perspective. Willow worries that there’s something about Tara that Tara isn’t telling her. Something she’s not “facing her” with and letting her know bothers her. But other than that - she has no worries. She feels safest with Tara and, as I’ve previously mentioned in another recap, is much more invested in the relationship they share than Tara is at this point in it. And the scales don’t actually equal in that because Willow becomes uncomfortably and unhealthily invested in that she starts to abuse Tara in such a way where she wants to make sure Tara pays the most attention to her. And magic has always been the best way for Willow to have “her will be done” well before Tara entered the picture of her life. And so, she knows it’s her bread and butter to getting her way.

Moving on, we now see Willow walking the halls of Sunnydale high school and Xander and Oz are in the dream. No Tara. Meaning this part of the dream is something passed in her life but still very present in her mind. Although this is of the past, the dialogue between all 3 characters is about Willow’s then-future. There is mention of Tara and of the drama class they will take in college. I interpret this to mean that Willow can’t entirely let go of what was to focus on what is or what will be. Hence why Oz is in the scene and why he says “Oh, I’ve been here forever” when Willow asks him if he’s ever took the drama course - at which point we see Willow trying to take something out of her locker but can’t seem to get it open. I interpret this to mean she’s locked out and cannot access that part of her life anymore despite still thinking about it, and specifically Oz, in it. You see, Oz may have followed Willow to college, but he never stayed. Their relationship was only one that existed in high school and Willow has regretfully moved on from Oz and entered a new relationship that exists in college and will last beyond that. She cannot access her high school life anymore. She cannot access Oz anymore. Thus, their love affair was tied to their high school life and Willow no longer goes there.

At this point we see Willow walk out of the frame, leaving Xander and Oz behind, to stand backstage of a production in their drama class - of which Willow has never even rehearsed for and hasn’t even had her first drama class yet. And the characters of Harmony, Riley and Buffy are dressed up in costume ready to perform the play and tell Willow that she’s late but she’s “already” dressed in “costume” and “already” in “character”. Giles then enters the scene as the stage director and his dialogue in rallying his actors to get ready to perform reveals that this play is all about Willow. In fact - she’s the main character in it (go figure) and everybody in the audience, including the cast, is there to watch her perform.

“Acting is not about behaving, it’s about hiding. The audience wants to find you, strip you naked, and eat you alive, so hide.” - Giles.

Next Willow goes behind the stage curtains (which are red to represent a vagina, apparently, according to Whedon in the commentary track for ‘Restless’) and finds Tara among them with her who tells her that things aren’t going very well. Willow says that drama class is not being done in the “proper” way, she doesn’t know what to do, and the play’s starting soon. Tara then tells her that the play’s already started and that’s not the point anyway. Willow doesn’t understand. As the play happens without Willow, Tara disappears, and what was following Willow attacks her.

Buffy saves her and we go back to Sunnydale high school. This time we’re in a classroom. It isn’t clear which class but it’s presumably English as Willow reads out a book report on ‘The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe’. Before she does that though, Buffy tells Willow that the play is long over and asks her why she’s still in “costume”. Willow responds that it’s not a costume, she’s just in her outfit of the day. Buffy tells her that everybody already knows about her and to take her “costume” off, to which Willow panics and refuses. Buffy rips her “costume” off of her to reveal her wearing the clothes she was wearing on the very first episode of the show. Now, Willow stands in front of a full classroom of her peers (both from high school, college, and the Scooby Gang) mocking her for her appearance and her reaction to being totally exposed to what she believes everybody perceives of her as the truth of who she really is. Still a shy loser. The dream sequence ends with what was following Willow and attacked her throughout; the first Slayer sucking out her soul and leaving the real Willow paralyzed in her sleeping state. Unable to escape from her personal Hell.

So what does it all mean? Well, it really all depends on the way you interpret her dream. Some things about Willow and what she thinks and feels are clear, some are not. But how I’ve interpreted her dream in ‘Restless’ is that Willow, despite appearing a much more confident, secure and assertive person, doesn’t have any belief in herself when it comes to her value and requirement of her from her peers, friends and lovers… Or everyone that’s not her. Her need for validation in who she is and what she can do from everyone. Her worthiness in her work. Her ability and capacity to love. Her appearance to whoever perceives her. Especially the ones she loves. And her insecurities run so deep in this that even she doesn’t recognize them. She’s not aware to how much she’s acting like someone she’s not in order to please, in order to have attention, in order to feel of use to people. Now, it is not that she is still the loser. She’s definetly evolved into a much more worldly and well-rounded person since her high school days. Stronger, smarter, wiser, and more confident. It’s just she doesn’t believe in it and she absolutely fears no one else does either. In her mind she’s still the lonely nerd and she’s doing the most to make sure people don’t see that. Even though she has the belief that they do and always will. So her need for power and control all stems from these deep unconscious insecurities. Magic just happens to be the most effective tool for her to accumulate this. And she only becomes addicted to it in Season 6 because she relies on it to make her special. Even though she’s special as she is - with or without magic - to which Tara does her damnedest to make her aware of and believe. And she’s about the only person in the show that achieves it - until, of course, her death… Which, of course, triggers Dark Willow.

Willow's need for power and control as Dark Willow is channelled through rage and pain and so no amount of it is enough. Willow isn’t enough without Tara. None of these fears, worries and insecurities are the truth of Willow. But getting her to believe in and trust in that is next to impossible. Tara is only capable of it because she’s the one thing in the show that Willow truly loves. Is truly committed to. Is truly invested in. And she feels like she means and is nothing without her, without her love, without her attention, without her validation, without her light. She abuses her the most because she’s the one person in all of the show that she covets the most. That she doesn’t want to be without, that she feels the safest and is the happiest with. That she won’t let leave her life. Yes, it’s unhealthy. But true love can be when there’s so much inner turmoil. When there’s such a storm inside threatening to be unleashed with every bad day. Every screw up. Every "spaz" feeling. That's what it stems from. A loser mentality.

That is Willow’s entire predicament throughout the whole show and why her character representation, development and evolution is the greatest, the most profound, the most detailed, the most poignant. This is a character that you absolutely fall in love with very early on. To see them go from that gentle-natured, quirky, inspiring and endearing person to one of the most abusive, frustrating, corruptive and destructive people is hard. Fortunately, they’re given the endgame they deserve and become the hero. They learn to balance both sides to who they are - the dark and the light - and they become exactly who they want to be. Someone of great power and control. Someone that is valued and loved. Someone that matters. Whether she believes it or not is up to you. 😉

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arvandus · 3 years

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CONGRATS ON 500 OMG 🎉🎉🎉 IT'S MORE THAN DESERVED!!!!

Can I put in a request for All Might, #35 with a fluff ending?

Sooo.... I’m gonna be honest, I was so excited when I saw this request because.... angsty dialogue with a happy ending? That shit is my jam. And with All Might? Perfect.

A couple things before we get started: I went with All Might in his skinny form, cuz the prompt lends itself to that (so sorry if you were hoping for buff Might!) Also, took the artistic liberty of giving reader a healing quirk for this one called ‘Cat’s Cradle.’ You’ll (hopefully) see why it’s called that when you read it…

I hope you enjoy, and sorry it’s taken so long to get this out!

Um... Warnings: Blood (sorry, it’s Yagi... kinda a given), angst + happy ending

Word Count: 3,223 and no regrets!

35. “I can’t sit here and watch you destroy yourself.”

There was a familiar knock at your door, and in an instant you knew exactly who it was. Your teeth clenched, your jaw stiffened.

You weren’t going to answer it. Not this time.

Knock knock knock

You waited, frozen, unwilling to move, yet listening intently. The sound of wet, guttural coughing reverberated through the wooden barrier.

God damn it.

When it came to a certain world-famous hero, it didn’t really take much for you to give up your resolve. You made your way to the door and peeked through the peephole. Yagi supported himself with one hand against the door frame as his other hand clutched at his chest. The front of his shirt was bunched in his grasp, blood coating his pale hands and the white fabric beneath it. A curse fell from your lips as your hands unlatched the lock on your door, swinging it wide open.

Yagi looked up at you with grateful blue eyes, sunken deep into dark pits. His wild, blond hair stuck to his ashen face with sweat, his brow furrowed in pain.

“Hey,” he greeted with a lighthearted grin.

“Jesus Christ, Yagi…” you growled.

You grabbed him by the elbow and ushered him into your space before closing and locking the door behind you.

There was no time to rush him into the bathroom like you normally did. Instead, you had him sit in a dining chair and began to peel off his blood-soaked shirt. Just as the fabric lifted off his head, another round of coughing doubled him over, blood splattering the tiled floor.

“Shit…” Yagi muttered.

“Don’t worry about it.” You replied. But it was hardly convincing. Your tone was cold and hard with frustration.

You weren’t mad about the floor, though… honestly, you couldn’t have cared less. What mattered was the man currently looking like he was on Death’s doorstep. It pained you to see him so clearly suffering, his skin covered in sweat and blood even as he tried to smile reassuringly at you. It didn’t matter how bright his smile was; it held little weight against the scar carved into his side, or the atrophy that stretched over his bones.

Your heart couldn’t handle much more of this.

Gently, you pressed your hands against the front of Yagi’s shoulders until he was sitting up, back straight. Even without his buff form, Yagi was tall. With your body so close to his, you could feel his ragged breath on your cheek, hear the air rattling from his lungs like leaves. You couldn’t help but look him in the eyes then, and a faint flush crept across his sallow cheeks that made your own skin feel hot.

“Stay still.” You instructed.

You carefully placed one hand in front of his chest and the other behind his back, your fingertips hovering over his body. Glowing, translucent-white threads emanated from your fingers, passing through him to connect together deep within his lungs. Slowly, you began weaving, fingers dancing and flicking like a game of Cat’s Cradle as your quirk stitched and healed the damaged tissue. It was painstaking work, what was left of his lungs already in poor condition, and the more he pushed himself past his limits, the harder it was to repair what he’d repeatedly broken. Sweat beaded your brow as you worked, your hands moving meticulously. One wrong move, one wrong stitch…

But you’d done this countless times over the years. It was nearly second nature to you now… you knew his body nearly as well as your own. You stared at the glistening red staining from his lips to his chest as you worked, your vision blurred as you focused on your quirk’s senses.

Slowly, you could hear Yagi’s ragged breaths begin to improve. His gasps for air filled deeper into his chest, expanding his rib cage. His exhales followed clean and steady. The tension in his face relaxed, his brow smoothing over as he closed his eyes.

Finally, you broke the connection and slumped into your own chair, exhaustion overtaking you. It was far from perfect, but it was the best you could do given his level of deterioration. You watched Yagi take a few more deep, experimental breaths before he looked up at you. You opened your mouth to scold him, your brow furrowed into a frown, but froze as soon as you saw his gentle expression become guarded as he prepared for your verbal onslaught.

An ache filled your throat where your words were supposed to be, and you closed your mouth. How easy it was to revert back to old habits when you were together. The two of you were broken; the same old wounds seeping red because they were never given a chance to properly heal.

You weren’t going to go through it again; not this time. You were too tired. And it wasn’t like it made much difference anyway. It didn’t matter how much you begged, cried, or yelled. Yagi wouldn’t stop. He couldn’t stop.

Silence fell between you as you both stared at each other, the space between you feeling empty. No doubt your hurt was evident in your face, your body language, your eyes. And if there was one thing you knew Yagi hated, it was seeing you upset. He wanted to hold you. You could see it in the way his body leaned towards you of its own accord, arms shifting just the slightest bit closer to your torso. You could see the words on the edge of his tongue too, suspended between parted, bloodstained lips.

Don’t. A part of you begged. You didn’t want his comfort. You didn’t want his excuses.

Just as his mouth opened wider to speak, you averted your eyes and shifted your body away from him. It was difficult – painful, as if you were a plant being pulled from the earth, fragile roots breaking in the soil.

“You should go clean up.” You said quietly.

Another long pause greeted you before he finally spoke. “Yeah. Okay.” He stood. “Do you still have my clothes?”

“Yeah. Dresser, bottom drawer.” You replied.

Yagi excused himself, and a moment later you heard the sound of running water in the bathroom. You stared at the bloodied floor and the stained shirt balled up on your table. Nausea filled you, twisting your gut.

Quickly, you grabbed your cleaning supplies and set to work, watching as the blood soaked into the white paper towels like an inkblot test. Each fresh bloom of crimson spelled the foreshadowing you tried to erase, until you were wiping and scrubbing at the floor in frantic anger, tears dripping from your lashes. It felt futile. No matter how many paper towels you used, you always seemed to need more.

By the end of it, the trash can was full, the roll noticeably smaller than when you had started. You added Yagi’s ruined shirt to the top of the pile and stashed the bin away out of sight beneath your kitchen sink. You’d take it out as soon as he left.

You could still hear the shower running in your bathroom, so you went to your living room and slouched onto your couch, waiting for Yagi to finish.

You had hoped that cleaning up the mess would help reduce the severity from the situation, help you mask your growing fears. But it was too late. All you could see was red. The red on his lips, the red on your floor, the red in the paper towels...

The emotions you had hoped you could suppress until he left began to crest in you, and you vacated the living room in favor of the privacy of your bedroom. Maybe if you could let a few tears out during his shower, then you’d have enough composure until he left. You curled onto your bed, your pillow clutched tightly in your arms as you buried your face into the plush fabric.

For so long you’d held out, hoping that one day he’d understand. That he’d see the damage to his body, see how quickly he was deteriorating. That he’d see the fear in your eyes every time he showed up on your doorstep needing your help. You’d hoped that your countless conversations would eventually amount to something, your words secretly unravelling the veil he chose to wear over his eyes as he fought battle after battle.

It was that pesky, lingering hope that had been keeping you going. Hope that eventually, there’d be an end to it all. Hope that Yagi could finally stop killing himself for the sake of the greater good. Hope that the two of you could eventually pick up where you’d fallen and live a happy life.

And it was hope that made you open the door for him each time.

But now, that hope was finally gone. You were done trying. You realized it as soon as you’d finally given up talking to him – finally given up trying to save him.

An emptiness took its place, cold and heavy. Its absence gave no place for your love to nest, no place for your dreams to take root. All you had left was the heavy, gut-wrenching reality that eventually, inevitably, you’d lose him. Either he’d die in battle, or worse… He’d show up at your doorstep, his body beyond repair, and the only thing you’d be able to do is hold him as his lungs filled with blood.

Your chest constricted so tightly at that single, horrible thought that you couldn’t even breathe, your lungs burning in a frantic need for oxygen. There was nothing in the world worse than that single moment coming to life. But you couldn’t erase it, couldn’t run from it. It sat there, as real and permanent as the blood-soaked rags lurking in your kitchen trash. You tried to suck air into your lungs, but the knot in your throat didn’t allow it, a suffocating sob lodged like a rock. Your arms tightened around your pillow.

You were going to lose him. And there was nothing you could do about it.

Grief settled itself onto your shoulders, heavy as an anchor. Grief for a future that could never be. Grief for the death of a love that never fully had a chance to bloom. Grief for a man who would eventually slip through your fingers to become bones and dust, leaving nothing but the ache of his memory upon your soul. You buckled under its weight, the heavy sob finally spilling from your parted lips as tears soaked into your pillow.

You didn’t even notice as Yagi entered the room to find you curled up in your bed, sobbing.

“Hey…” He whispered as he rushed over.

His arms were around you in an instant, pulling you up against his bony chest, your head tucked under his chin.

“Hey, hey…” he soothed as he held you.

You leaned into his embrace, letting his presence envelop you. Maybe you should have fought it; pushed him away instead of letting yourself indulge. But it felt too good, too safe, and your arms tightened around him selfishly as you cried. It brought back familiar memories of a time when the two of you had been happy, surrendering to your feelings for each other, before it all fell apart.

God, how you missed this. Love had never been the issue for the two of you. No, that was the easy part. But it wasn’t enough. Not when all of Japan rested on his shoulders, leaving little space for you no matter how deeply he cared for you.

He held you as you cried, silently holding the space for you, his arms a safety net for all of the emotional weight you couldn’t carry alone. Your tears soaked his shirt, your arms wound tight around his ribs, as you wished for nothing more than the power to change what was.

“I don’t want to lose you…” you sobbed.

“You won’t.” He replied.

His words were meant to be comforting, but their effect was the opposite, making your heart ache even more at his inability to address the issue head on. He always was an optimist when it came to things of the heart. It was part of what made him such a great hero. But optimism wouldn’t save either of you here.

You pulled away from him slightly, already missing the closeness of him.

“Don’t…” you pleaded. “Don’t do that.”

Yagi looked down at your tear-stained face. “Do what?”

Quietly, you grabbed a tissue from the tissue box on your nightstand and wiped at your nose. The material crumpled into a ball within your fist and you stared at it, your vision already blurring with fresh tears.

“Don’t try to give me hope.” You replied.

Yagi stared with wide eyes before withdrawing his arms. His expression fell, wounded by the truth in your honesty.

You struggled not to let it sway you.

“I… I can’t keep doing this.” You whispered as you wiped the last of the tears from your cheeks. “Every time you show up on my doorstep, you’re worse than before. I won’t always be able to help you.”

He watched you in silence for a moment before looking away in shame, his fingers interlaced in front of him as he leaned forward. “I know.” He replied.

Regret filled you at rejecting him. You wanted him to touch you, to hold you. To have his presence surround you. To feel him alive beneath you, whole and here. But you had to set a boundary. You had to stop following him, stop hoping… if you didn’t, it would destroy you.

Instead, you sat with your arms wrapped around yourself, a pitiful defense against the familiar allure of the man next to you.

“You keep wanting me to save you, Yagi… but how can I save you if you won’t save yourself?” You looked at him then, your eyes locking with his. “You keep choosing to fight, to push yourself well past your limits. And you keep coming here, because you know that I still love you and won’t turn you away.”

Yagi sucked air into his lungs, his posture going stiff at your words. You were right. He knew you were right. His inability to counter your statement was evidence enough of that. Disappointment and guilt filled you as you broke eye contact to look at your shaking hands.

“But… I can’t sit here and watch you destroy yourself. And you shouldn’t expect me to.” You whispered.

The words were heavy, filling the empty space between you with their finality. You refused to look at Yagi; you knew he’d be hurt. You knew his shoulders would slump in defeat, his mouth pulled into a deep frown. Guilt filled you, making your hands fidget and your shoulders tense as you waited for his response.

“You’re right.”

His words were a whisper and your eyes snapped up to stare at him, bewilderment on your face. He’d never said those words to you before... not about this. His mask had cracked, and you could finally see his emotions flashing across his face as he struggled to transform them into words. Remorse. Panic. Love. Fear.

He cleared his throat and repeated himself. “You’re right. I have asked a lot of you.” His brow furrowed. “I don’t know why I keep coming back. I guess I just get… homesick.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as your heart pounded like a battle drum in your chest. You opened your mouth to respond, but the words were stolen from you when Yagi’s eyes met yours, deep and familiar.

“I miss you.” He stated.

“Yagi...” You cupped his cheek in your hand. He leaned into it briefly, before removing your hand from his face and holding it within his own.

“Listen... I... didn’t intend to come here for your help. Not this time. But you know how these things are...” He explained. “I was on my way over when a villain showed up, and...” Yagi’s words faltered as he saw the expression on your face begin to fall. He was doing it again, getting caught up in his work, making excuses... hurting you.

He cleared his throat. “It’s... not important. The point is, is that there was something I wanted to tell you. But... I’m not sure it’ll make much of a difference.” He averted his gaze, his brows pulled together pensively.

Your own brow furrowed in response, confused by his ambiguity. A part of you was hesitant... you’d truly felt that you were done, that you’d reached your limit. But could tell that whatever it was, it was important to him, and it was something that he wanted to share specially with you.

“Just... tell me.” You said quietly, as you emotionally braced yourself.

His blue eyes looked back at you, and he took a steady breath. “Alright...” He took your other hand in his own. Now he held both of your hands between you as he sat with you on your bed. “I... found a successor.”

Your eyes widened, as you felt overcome with dizziness. You were lightheaded, suddenly floating on his words that still lingered in the air like morning mist.

“W... what??” you choked out. Your heart pounded wildly as your hands gripped his, the warm, firm touch barely grounding you.

“I found a successor.” He repeated, a slow smile starting to spread across his lips at your dumbfounded reaction.

A smile began to spread across your lips. “Does that mean... you’re retiring?”

“Yeah-”

Your lips were on his before he could say anything more, your arms flinging themselves around his neck. He laughed against your lips as he returned the kiss, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you into his lap.

You pulled away for a moment and stared into his eyes. They sparkled with mirth, blue as a summer’s day.

“Well, that went better than I expected...” Yagi teased.

“Tell me it’s true. You’re really done?” you asked.

“Well, I still have to train my apprentice... he’s got a big heart and a strength in him that I don’t think he even realizes he has yet. But it’s going to take some time for him to learn how to wield all that power.” Yagi’s expression turned from happy to serious. “And... I have to admit that I can’t retire just yet.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he covered your lips with his finger.

“Hang on a second, firecracker.” He grinned. “I will retire. But I still have remnants of One For All in me, and I need to protect this kid until he’s able to master that power. I’ll still be All Might until that last spark leaves me. I’m sure you understand that much, right? I have a responsibility to him.”

You brushed aside his long bangs, relishing in the feel of the golden locks between your fingers. Of course, you understood. You’d never expected it to be immediate anyway. But at least things were in motion. All he had to do was survive. And if Yagi was good at anything, it was surviving.

You had to believe in him.

“Yeah...” you whispered. “I understand.”

Now it was Yagi’s turn to be surprised. “Really?”

You smiled and kissed him again. “Really.”

You had hope.

#Arv’s 500 Followers Event #All Might x reader #yagi toshinori x reader #angst to fluff #All Might fanfic #bnha #mha

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