#pyromancer's parting flame

[koisuko]

Pov: You are a cat (pt3)

how the mk1 characters react to you as a stray cat, one with an oddly familiar/fitting name

part 1, part 2, part 4, bonus

ft: Kuai Liang, Bi-han, Tomas, Johnny, Kenshi

TW: none, cute kitty stuff, fluffy, gn, this took way longer than the others

Kuai Liang

Kuai Liang often took leisurely strolls around the tranquil grounds of the Lin Kuei Temple during his moments of respite. The temple's surroundings were often blanketed in a soft, soothing layer of snow, but for the pyromancer, the icy chill of winter held no sway over him. His very essence exuded an inner warmth that countered the cold embrace of the environment.

On this particular day, as the delicate snowflakes gracefully descended from the heavens to blanket the earth, Kuai Liang found himself taking a deep breath, observing the intricate dance of the snowflakes as they twirled and twined their way to the ground. It was a serene sight, the aftermath of a recent snowstorm that had bestowed its wintry bounty upon the landscape. However, amidst this serene vista, something unexpected caught his eye. A small, light brown figure, in stark contrast to the snowy surroundings, lay curled in a vulnerable ball. Kuai's curiosity piqued, he approached cautiously, his steps leaving deep impressions in the pristine snow.

As he drew near, he realized the figure was not what he initially thought. It wasn't a person but a small, shivering cat, its fur glistening with frost, the cold wind nipping at its exposed form. You were too weak to flee, your fragile body barely holding onto the last vestiges of warmth.

Without hesitation, Kuai Liang swiftly but gently scooped the trembling feline into his arms. His inherent pyromantic abilities were brought into play, the heat radiating from his body increasing to provide solace to the freezing creature. He cradled you tenderly against his chest, his protective embrace serving as a barrier against the frigid elements. Quickly, he turned on his heel and made his way back to the warmth and safety of his quarters. The small cat, now in the care of the compassionate Lin Kuei warrior, was wrapped in a cozy blanket, offering a respite from the merciless cold that had threatened your life.

Kuai Liang settled onto the edge of his bed, you still nestled in his arms. His deep brown eyes reflected a mixture of relief and concern as he gazed down at your small form. "Feeling better, little one?" he asked softly, his voice a gentle whisper. In response, you emitted a delicate meow, your purrs growing in intensity as you basked in the newfound warmth and safety. With a fond smile, Kuai adjusted the blanket to ensure your comfort. His fingers traced gentle patterns on your head as he noticed a collar, the word 'Flame' etched onto it. It was a fitting name, considering the circumstances of you and his meeting. He held you a bit closer, and with a sense of contentment washing over you both, you drifted into a peaceful slumber within Kuai Liang's reassuring embrace.

Bi-han

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, its rays beating down on the earth in relentless waves. This summer was a scorching anomaly around the Lin Kuei temple, typically shrouded in snow or rain. Yet today, the weather was unforgiving, the heat making the air thick and uncomfortable. Bi-han, the cryomancer, remained unfazed, his naturally colder body shielding him from the oppressive warmth.

Returning from a brief mission, he noticed an odd mass slightly off the path, its black color stark against the dusty road. It might have gone unnoticed, but something about it drew his attention. As he drew near, the figure became clearer—a small feline, lying almost motionless and panting. Though Bi-han's expression remained stoic, a flicker of concern crossed his features. Kneeling down, he observed you, barely clinging to life as the heat threatened to consume you.

Uncertain how to handle the situation, he extended an ice-covered hand, hovering it near your limp body. The cooling sensation permeated your fur, offering brief relief from the oppressive heat. After a moment's hesitation, he scooped you into his arms, a determination in his gaze as he decided not to walk away from this. He navigated through the temple, giving a cold stare to anyone inquiring about the cat in his arms.

Reaching his quarters, he gently placed you on his bed, quickly fetching water in a small dish. Your weakened state required assistance, and he patiently helped you drink. Fearful of accidentally harming you, he handled you with care, holding you against his cold chest. A rare smile adorned his face as he stroked your back with a frigid hand. Your panting ceased, replaced by a soft purr. A collar around your neck bore the name 'Snow,' a subtle amusement crossing his expression, a chuckle leaving his lips at the contrast between your name and your black fur. "A brave little warrior, welcome to the Lin Kuei."

Tomas Vrbada

Tomas often found solace in Madam Bo's tea house, sharing his troubles with her during tough times. Today, however, a different kind of task awaited him and his brothers. Lord Liu Kang had assigned them the responsibility of testing two new recruits. The plan involved a staged "thug attack" on Madam Bo, with Tomas taking the lead to set the scene for his brothers, Bi-han and Kuai Liang. He stood at a distance, karambit twirling between his fingers, awaiting the orchestrated chaos.

As he stared up at the night sky, Tomas couldn't shake off the unease that Bi-han's recent behavior had planted in his mind. The Grandmaster had become colder, distant, and more callous since his promotion, leaving Tomas worried about the clan's future. The unknown intentions of Bi-han lingered in his thoughts like an unspoken threat.

His contemplation was interrupted by a sudden pressure on his lower leg. Looking down, he was met with the amber eyes of a small grey feline. A soft 'brrr' escaped your lips as you gazed at him, offering a momentary distraction from his concerns. Tomas' masked face softened into a smile, and he cooed, "Well, hello there, little one. Are you lost?" Kneeling down, he gently caressed the fur on your back, occasionally reaching up to scratch behind your ears. You purred, rubbing your body against his leg with your tail held high.

Tomas chuckled at the affectionate display, lifting you into his arms. As he petted your head, you playfully swatted at his mask. "You're so cute," he chuckled, noticing a shiny piece of metal around your neck with the name 'Smokey' engraved on it. "Seems like it was meant to be, mini smoke!" Tomas nuzzled his masked face against you before gently setting you back on the ground. With a loving tone, he said, "I must go. I'll see you after, little Smokey." Walking towards the tea house, he left behind the furry distraction and headed into the impending test.

Johnny Cage

The cold marble floor beneath your padded paws echoed your every step as you navigated the expansive mansion. Your tail swayed low, the anticipation evident as you sought out your human companion. The distant murmur of a familiar voice led you to the main living room, where Johnny, engrossed in a phone call with a client, occupied the elegant white couch. With a soft meow, you made your presence known, gracefully leaping into his lap. Johnny, unfazed by the interruption, allowed a warm smile to grace his lips, his hand gently stroking the top of your head. The white fluffy fur responded, obediently flattening against your small frame.

"Alright, yea, yea, I'll talk to you soon, bye," Johnny concluded his conversation, placing the phone down. He pulled you closer to his chest, addressing you with affection, "Princess, my sweet baby, what do you say we watch one of daddy's movies, hm?" Your enthusiastic, raspy meow signaled your approval, earning a chuckle from Johnny.

The two of you found yourselves engrossed in the second movie, your petite form peacefully curled up in his lap. Johnny continued to caress your fur, eliciting soft purrs that harmonized with the ambient soundtrack of the film. As a tender moment unfolded, Johnny couldn't help but gaze down at you, a genuine smile playing on his lips. An idea sparked in his mind.

A subtle 'psspss' sound reached your ears, causing them to twitch before lifting your head inquisitively, "brr?" The next instant, a pair of oversized human sunglasses adorned your feline face, prompting a slight recoil in surprise. Johnny, undeterred, exclaimed, "Look at you, Princess, now you're just like me!" You playfully wiggled your head, the sunglasses perched on your nose, gazing up at Johnny with a mix of curiosity and kitty confusion.

A vision of a perfect photo opportunity struck Johnny, and he swiftly retrieved his phone. "They will love you, Princess, say cheese for the fans!" he enthused. Clicking away, he captured the moment, immortalizing your adorable feline fashion statement. "So cute! Okay, one more," he declared, adjusting you on his shoulder for a different perspective. Setting up his phone again, he turned on the recording feature, transforming your lazy demeanor into an amusing cat dance routine. Your unamused expression didn't escape Johnny's notice, but the love between you two prevailed.

As he maneuvered your limbs in a playful imitation of a human dance, you yawned, the epitome of relaxed indifference. The entire scene painted a heartwarming picture of companionship and the quirky antics that made your bond with Johnny truly special.

Kenshi Takahashi

Restless, Kenshi tossed and turned in his sheets, his mind burdened with worries for his family and the constant pressure to break free from the clutches of the Yakuza. Blind, but keenly attuned to his surroundings, every other sense heightened to compensate for the absence of sight, Kenshi found himself unable to find solace in sleep. With a deep sigh of defeat, he kicked the blankets off, acknowledging that tonight, sleep was not his ally.

Deciding to channel his restless energy, he ventured outside into the cool night air. A thin sheen of sweat coated his skin, offering a stark contrast to the refreshing breeze that greeted him. A smile tugged at his lips as the temperature shift cleared his mind. Sento, his faithful sword, in hand, he stood on the grass, adopting a steady stance. Fluid movements followed, the dance of a man determined to regain control over his life. Each breath he took seemed to ground him, the rhythmic motions of his sword a manifestation of both skill and frustration.

Blindness had taken away his ability to see the world in all its vibrancy. Now, dependent on Sento and those around him, Kenshi grappled with the loss of independence. The dance with his sword was not just a physical exercise; it was a defiance against the constraints that bound him.

His movements grew more vigorous, muscles flexing, as Sento seemingly came alive, mirroring his every move. The dance reached its zenith, Sento flowing out of the blade, a spectral swordsman beside him. To an onlooker, it would be a mesmerizing spectacle, a testament to the bond between man and sword. Abruptly, the dance ceased, Sento returning to its sheath in a stream of ethereal blue.

Sensing eyes upon him, Kenshi pointed his sword in the direction of the unseen observer. "Who's there?" his voice, usually calm, now carried a commanding tone. "Show yourself!" Silence greeted him, the stillness almost convincing him that his heightened senses were playing tricks on him. Frustration etched across his face as he cursed the loss of his sight.

As he stood there, a small calico cat emerged from the shadows. Your presence surprised him, and he scowled, trying to discern if it was a figment of his imagination. You, undeterred, approached Kenshi, a silent companion in the night. His scowl softened into a smile as he bent down to pet you, his sword now sheathed on his back.

Unexpectedly, he felt something on your collar. Using his fingers, he traced the lines, realizing it spelled out "Sento." Kenshi's fingers lingered on the collar, feeling the cold metal inscribed with the name of his sword. "Sento," he whispered, more to himself than to you, a note of disbelief in his voice. You, seemingly unperturbed, purred under his touch, rubbing your head against his hand.

A soft chuckle escaped Kenshi as he continued to stroke your calico fur. "Well, Sento, it seems we have a namesake here. What brings you to my midnight training session?" he mused, as if expecting you to respond. You, of course, remained silent, but your presence was oddly comforting.

The night air carried a hint of mystery, and Kenshi, guided by instincts honed through years of combat, couldn't shake the feeling that this encounter held significance beyond the surface. "Perhaps you're a guardian spirit, watching over me," he mused, half-jokingly, yet a flicker of curiosity danced in his sightless sockets.

As if in response, you nudged his hand affectionately, a silent reassurance. Kenshi's lips curved into a genuine smile, a rare expression that spoke of a connection forged in the quietude of the night.

"Maybe I'm not as alone as I thought," he muttered, more to himself than to you.

#mk1 #fanfic #mk1 x reader #fanfiction #mk1 2023 #mortal kombat #mortal kombat1 #requests open #bi han x reader #bi han mk #bi han sub zero #bi han mortal kombat #mk bi han #bi han #mk bihan #bihan x reader #bi han x you #bi han x y/n #kuai liang #scorpion #scorpion mk #scorpion x reader #scorpion x you #lin kuei #mk scorpion #sub zero #mk sub zero #mortal kombat sub zero #kuai liang x reader #kuai liang x you

[chiqelatasblog]

In the Middle Of the Night🌙

-> Ao3 link is here.

-> Part Two is here.

-> Part Four is here.

Pairings : Bi-Han/ Sub-Zero x You, Kuai Liang/ Scorpion x You, Tomas Vrbada/ Smoke x You

Author’s Note : This chapter spans over 12,000 words as Kuai Liang unravels his story, and I’m quite pleased with the result. I hope you’ll enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. However, I want to provide a heads-up about a couple of sensitive topics covered in this chapter: food deprivation and references to past sexual abuse.

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.

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These burning flames, these crashing waves,

Wash over me like a hurricane.

I'll captivate, you're hypnotized,

Feel powerful, but it's me again.

CHAPTER THREE : KUAI LIANG

Kuai Liang had protected his heart well throughout his life.

He had learned to control his powers at a very young age. Compared to his older brother, he was more capable of destroying powers and creating serious dangers instantly if left unchecked. Hence, he had to master the art of composure and patience, ensuring his emotions remained tempered. As a pyromancer, fire was less forgiving than ice; even a small mishap could have serious consequences and quickly destroy whatever stood in its way.

As the Grandmaster’s son, Kuai Liang shouldered heavier responsibilities within their clan due to the hierarchical structure. This framework not only limited his interactions but also instilled a fear of accidentally harming others with his powers. Despite his efforts to erect emotional barriers for the safety of those around him, he struggled internally and envied his brothers. Unlike him, Bi-Han always has an intimidating aura around him, his icy powers reflecting his demeanor as he effortlessly distanced himself from others. In contrast, Tomas initially grappling with the loss of his own family, he eventually warmed up to others, radiating a friendly and approachable demeanor.

As they were sealed inside the book, they found themselves drifting apart. Bi-Han grew colder, even to him, while Tomas’s once bright eyes dimmed, reminiscent of the day they discovered him at the clan borders, drenched in the blood of his family, wearing a vacant expression. Kuai Liang became the conduit between his brothers, as the curse slowly consumed them from within.

Especially when she summoned them, that’s when everything spiraled downward. Kuai Liang didn’t realize the depth of their descent until they were already submerged in it, despite having endured so much already.

‘‘I told them that you could satisfy them, Kuai Liang. There are only five of them, you’re not going to mislead me, are you? I’m sure you’ll get over it.’’

His master’s hands rested on his shoulders, her lustily muffled breath tickling his ear, while Kuai Liang endeavored to remain still, his expression carefully blank. Standing naked before a vast, round bed swathed in luxurious satin sheets, he felt a prickling sensation crawl across his skin under the scrutinizing gaze of the small group gathered before him. The room glowed with the warm flicker of candles of various sizes, their dancing flames casting intricate patterns on the walls. A crackling fire burned in the nearby fireplace, its radiant heat almost overwhelming him, despite fire being his element. The intense warmth caused his skin to feel hot and sweaty, everything feeling too much at the moment.

The group, nestled on dark red satin sheets, observed him with a mix of curiosity and hunger, their whispers filling the air with anticipation. The heavy scent of aphrodisiac permeated the room, emanating from the candles—a deliberate attempt to set the mood, given Kuai Liang’s inability to do so himself.

Leilani, his master, coiled the chain of his collar around her fingers, the cold metal sending a shiver down his spine as she obediently lowered his head. She captured his lower lip between her teeth, biting down with a force that bordered on painful, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from him. Despite the discomfort, he remained stoic, his gaze unwavering as blood trickled down to his chin in a thin stream. A smirk of pleasure adorned Leilani’s lips as she licked the blood smeared on his lip with the tip of her tongue, savoring the metallic tang, before delicately tracing the blood trail on his chin with soft, deliberate licks.

“Don’t embarrass me, slave,” she remarked coldly.

As Kuai Liang managed to open his eyes with a ragged breath, everything appeared blurry at first. He felt a faint coolness on his forehead, his body weighed down by an unbearable ache in every muscle. With teeth clenched in pain, he struggled to regain focus.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I wake you up?” a soft, unfamiliar voice reached his ears, distinct from the nightmare he had just endured. Despite the heaviness of his eyelids, Kuai Liang managed to blink them open. As his vision cleared, your figure came into view. Whatever expression crossed his face, you spoke in a gentle, understanding tone.

“It’s okay, Kuai Liang. You’re safe, you’re in my house, remember?”

Your words triggered images to flood into his mind. He was out of the book, but when? How long had he been lying like this? His body throbbed with pain, suggesting he had been immobile for some time.

“Your throat must be quite dry. Wait, I’ll get you some water.”

Kuai Liang propped himself up with his elbows, wincing at the protest of his aching muscles. He watched as you poured water into a glass from a nearby jug and carefully sat down beside him.

“Here, let me put a pillow behind you to make you more comfortable.”

As you placed a pillow to support his back, Kuai Liang drew a deep breath, finally able to sit upright. Even this simple movement caused his muscles to rebel. Silently, you handed him the glass of water to drink. Kuai Liang grasped the cup with his numb fingers, feeling a surge of life as the cool water flowed down his parched throat. He finished the water in one go, thirst quenched like a desert traveler finding an oasis. When you refilled the glass and offered it again, he drank more slowly this time, savoring the refreshing liquid. Once his mouth felt moist enough to speak, Kuai Liang asked in a hoarse, wheezy voice, unused to speaking after days of silence.

“How many days have I been in bed?”

“It’s been a week,” you said in a kind voice, refilling his glass with water for the third time. Kuai Liang’s eyes widened slightly in surprise.

“A week?”

“Yes, your brothers tried not to show it, but they were worried about you,” you said with a sweet smile. “But they had complete faith in you that you would get through this.”

“Where are they?” Kuai Liang asked as he took another sip from the glass. The water felt like medicine, satiating the last embers of fever that had spread from his lungs to his entire body, gradually calming him down.

“Bi-Han went out until about an hour ago. Tomas is sleeping in the living room.”

Kuai Liang couldn’t be sure he had heard the last part correctly. Tomas? Sleeping? How was this possible? Since the day they were sealed in the book, Tomas had always struggled to fall asleep. He fought insomnia, afraid of returning to the eternal darkness, and tried to cope by taking short naps whenever he could. Hearing that he was sleeping now didn’t sound convincing to Kuai Liang at all.

“Of his own accord?” Kuai Liang said, his voice filled with doubt and disbelief. Despite his frown, his expression remained composed. There was an understanding in your gaze, indicating you comprehended his reaction.

“Yes, it’s quite early for him to wake up, but if you want to see him, I can wake him up.”

“No, there’s no need.” Kuai Liang quickly opposed the idea. If Tomas managed to sleep, he wouldn’t want to disturb him. He knew how rare this situation was and wanted his brother to take advantage of it.

“Are you hungry? I made you some porridge so you could eat comfortably. I can heat it up and bring it if you want.”

Though Kuai Liang was once again surprised, he tried not to let it show too much on his face. His eyebrows furrowed slightly, a sign of his guard being raised. Had you prepared a meal for him, Kuai Liang wondered? The notion seemed as peculiar as Tomas managing to sleep. The only logical explanation he could muster was that you intended to ask for something in return for the food. After all, he had been bedridden for a week, too weak to follow orders. Ironically, it only took a simple command from you to spur him into action. You didn’t need to prepare anything in exchange. Yet, it was easier this way—to diminish their pride, as many masters before you had relished doing.

Despite having woken up, Kuai Liang’s body still felt weak. It was a challenge for him to muster the strength to prepare something for himself in order to regain his energy. Upon waking, his stomach stirred, reminding him of how hungry he truly was. With a metabolism faster than that of a normal person, he often found himself needing to consume more food. His old masters had exploited this trait, subjecting him to hunger tests and various trials to gauge his endurance. Through those experiences, Kuai Liang had learned the limits of hunger all too well.

“If you don’t like porridge, I can make soup or something different,” you said, your voice slightly faltering with the lengthening silence. Realizing Kuai Liang hadn’t answered, he pulled himself out of his thoughts and spoke hesitantly, choosing his words carefully.

“The porridge is fine. I prefer to eat it cold… I believe I’m warmed enough.’’

Your face unexpectedly brightened at his answer, and you stood up, a smile returning to your face.

“Great! Wait here, I’ll be right back. I’m sure you’ll feel better after eating.”

As you quickly left the room, Kuai Liang remained where he was leaning, trying to make sense of what had just happened. His tired gaze wandered around the room, realizing he wasn’t in the living room. It was your bedroom, filled with your personal belongings. Despite the open window airing the room, there was a faint, vaguely sweet smell that defined you, a scent he could only describe as feminine.

His gaze shifted to the thin blanket half pulled over him. As his fingers grazed the fabric, he tried to remember how he got here, but his memories were blurred. He could barely recall the conversations with Tomas and Bi-Han. All he could do was try to hold himself together at the moment. He felt as if he were burning with such intensity that he thought he would be reduced to ashes. While the fire consumed his body, he hadn’t experienced such a severe one before. He had never lost consciousness, although it always took him a long time to fully come to his senses after emerging from the book, unlike his brothers.

As you re-entered, Kuai Liang was snapped out of his thoughts, watching as you handed him the tray with a kind smile.

“Here you go, I hope you like it.”

Kuai Liang steadied the tray on his lap, gradually quelling the tremors in his hands. His gaze fell upon the bowl of porridge, its steam rising in wisps, teasing his nostrils with its warmth. His stomach clenched with a pang of hunger, urging him to devour the meal. With each passing moment, the gnawing sensation intensified, Kuai Liang dipped his spoon into the porridge to alleviate the relentless ache.

The porridge was cold, as you hadn’t heated it up as he requested and it was exactly what his body needed. With the first spoonful, he was taken aback by its unexpected deliciousness. While porridge was typically bland and unremarkable to him, the one you made was surprisingly rich in flavor. The chicken broth mingled seamlessly with the rice, enhanced by the spices you added, making it not only palatable but enjoyable to eat.

“Kuai Liang,” you chuckled softly, your voice triggering a strange sensation in his stomach, distinct from hunger. Turning his gaze to you, he was met with your gentle expression. “You should eat slowly. It’s been a while since you’ve eaten, and you’ll make your stomach uncomfortable at this rate. There’s a pot full of porridge still, so don’t worry.”

As the food settled in his stomach, Kuai Liang finished his mouthful and took a sip of water before speaking. Thankfully, his bronze skin hid the faint warmth creeping into his cheeks at your words. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt this hungry; it was as if his strength would ebb away entirely if he didn’t eat, as if the gnawing feeling in his stomach would consume his entire body.

Due to his fast metabolism, he had to eat constantly to survive and keep his body fit and agile. His previous masters had exploited this weakness, subjecting him to tests of endurance. He was a fighter, refusing to surrender without a struggle. Over time, Kuai Liang had learned to endure hunger for extended periods, gritting his teeth against the relentless pain in his stomach.

One of the perpetual side effects of the book was to maintain their physical appearance, like a perfect gift always on display. Despite the hardships they faced, their bodies remained unchanged from when they were first sealed in the book. Their skin remained firm and devoid of signs of aging, while their muscles remained taut and defined.

Though he felt powerless due to the lack of proper nourishment, Kuai Liang avoided showing weakness to the outside world, especially to the master of the book at the time. His brothers had been his biggest support. While Bi-Han and Tomas often shared their food with him, Kuai Liang initially tried to refuse their help. Ultimately, they all needed sustenance to endure and find a solution to their nightmare. Even though Bi-Han could go days without eating, Kuai Liang didn’t want him to endure the same deprivation.

“Thank you,” Kuai Liang said after a while. “That’s enough for me.”

Your furrowed eyebrows revealed your disbelief. “You’ve been sleeping for days, Kuai Liang. From what I’ve learned from your brothers, considering your metabolic rate, you need to eat at least four servings from that bowl, not to mention your body size. If you don’t like it, I can make something else, but you definitely need to eat. I don’t want you walking around hungry.” you insisted, your voice laced with concern.

Kuai Liang probably looked at you with surprise, though he managed to conceal it on his face. What? Your innocent tone and facial expression seemed to support each other seamlessly. Obviously, you didn’t know anything about his past, and he didn’t expect his brothers to say anything about it. You hadn’t ordered them to gather any information either.

“No, the porridge is fine, thank you,” Kuai Liang tried to smoothly continue. “Can I have more?”

“Of course!” Your smile widened, your whole face lighting up with joy as if the sun had risen upon you. Kuai Liang felt that strange ache again as he looked at you. “I thought you’d never ask!”

***

After Kuai Liang finished all the food in the pot and took a cold shower, he felt refreshed. His body was free from the days’ accumulated sweat, his stubble shaved, and his hair pulled back neatly. It was a strange feeling to have a full stomach, having forgotten what it felt like. Yet, there was a sense of peace within him. A weight had lifted, quieting the constant alertness that had consumed him for so long.

Arriving at the entrance of the living room, Kuai Liang encountered Bi-Han in the narrow hallway. His brother scrutinized him in silence from head to toe, assessing if he was well enough to stand.

“You look well,” said Bi-Han, his voice barely audible. “Do you feel as well as you look?”

“Yes, brother,” Kuai Liang replied, forcing a small smile to accompany his words. “How are you and Tomas? Was there anything I missed in a week?”

Bi-Han fell silent for a moment, nodding towards the study room adjacent to the bedroom. Kuai Liang followed his brother quietly into the room, and Bi-Han closed the door behind them, lowering his voice despite its depth.

“Tomas has begun to lose himself to the woman,” Bi-Han’s words filled the room with an icy chill. Kuai Liang observed his brother’s stern expression, which conveyed his displeasure with the situation. Despite their painful past and Tomas’s training as an assassin by the Lin Kuei, his inherent naivety had persisted, a trait Kuai Liang had always found unique. His brother lacked a judgmental nature, easily believing whatever he was told.

Since their time in the book, Tomas had changed like the rest of them. Whoever became the master of the book, Tomas obeyed them almost flawlessly, swiftly fulfilling orders and expectations. Kuai Liang soon understood why – it was the same as when he was trying to adhere to the Lin Kuei. He had no choice but to comply in order to survive in this new world where he didn’t know the rules. Yet, there was one person who made Tomas hesitate, offering a glimmer of hope in their dark world and suggesting that the cycle could be broken.

“How so?” Kuai Liang asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

“You heard me.” Bi-Han replied.

“Like what happened with Leilani?”

“It may be even worse than that,” Bi-Han snarled, his face contorting with rage at the mention of their old master’s name. ‘’The speed at which she’s manipulated him is unprecedented.”

“How is that possible? Tomas was cautious after what happened.”

“You haven’t spent time with the woman. She offers him everything he desires, and he willingly accepts. They’re always together, laughing, touching, kissing. It’s all by his own consent.”

“What? Are you sure?”

“You know how long it took him to recover after Leilani. If this woman can make this much progress in a week, imagine what will happen when we return to the book in three months.”

“Wait a minute,” Kuai Liang tried to digest the information, pinching the bridge of his nose and taking a deep breath. “She told me that… Is it true that Tomas is sleeping of his own accord?’’

“Yes,” Bi-Han confirmed, his anger palpable.

‘’Damn it,” Kuai Liang muttered, running a hand over his head in frustration. All three of them harbored an aversion to darkness, but for Tomas, it went beyond mere dislike—it was pure loathing. He avoided closing his eyes for extended periods and fought against sleep as much as possible. The fact that he could now sleep next to you, in his most vulnerable state, only heightened Bi-Han’s concerns. Tomas had never revealed this side to anyone, not even to the master of all the books that had come and gone, except Leilani. Yet, even Leilani took a considerable amount of time to witness this aspect, setting a new record compared to their previous experiences.

“I’ve been constantly warning him to get it into his thick head and not trust the woman, but he doesn’t listen to me. Go talk to him, try to stop him from getting any more attached. Maybe your moderate approach will ring a bell for him.”

“If the situation is as serious as you say, brother, I don’t think Tomas will listen to me either.”

“Well, what shall we do then? Shall we allow his feelings to be manipulated, humiliated, and used again? We’ve been through this once, Kuai Liang, and I swore it wouldn’t happen again,” Bi-Han’s voice was as cold and harsh as winter itself, his demanding gaze piercing through him like a blade.

“Okay, I’ll talk to him.”

Taking another deep breath, Kuai Liang exited the room, silently following the voices until he reached the entrance of the living room. Both of you were engrossed in examining a pile of books on the kitchen island, your conversation too hushed for him to make out. However, judging by the expressions on your faces, you appeared to be in good spirits. Shifting his focus entirely to his brother, Kuai Liang comprehended Bi-Han’s concerns more clearly.

There was a calmness in Tomas’s expression that Kuai Liang hadn’t seen in a long time, almost peaceful. It was a departure from his usual artificial and distant smile, a sign of his increasing pessimism over the years. Despite his youth, his face carried a weight beyond his years, rivaling even Bi-Han’s gloominess.

The way he’s watching you now, with one hand casually supporting his chin and a subtle smile playing on his lips, rather than being absorbed in the book before him, is very different from what he’s used to. He would never have imagined it if he hadn’t seen it for himself. Seeing his brother carefree and relaxed, just like old times, filled Kuai Liang with concern instead of contentment. Bi-Han was right; Tomas had gotten carried away with you, and from what he observed, the situation was much more serious than he thought.

“Do you understand what I mean now?” Bi-Han’s voice came from right behind him, close enough for Kuai Liang to feel his cool breath on his neck. Kuai Liang didn’t say anything. After silently nodding in agreement, he stepped in, and you both snapped out of the peaceful bubble you had created upon noticing his arrival.

“Kuai Liang, good morning! I heard you were up, but you were in the shower when I got up. How do you feel? Are you better?” Tomas greeted him in a somewhat cheerful voice. Now that he could see him up close, Kuai Liang could discern the details better. While his pale face should have been marked with dark circles due to his usual insomnia, Tomas’s face had a lightness that indicated he had a good sleep. There were no stress lines, and his dull gray eyes were bright and sharp, as if life had returned to them.

Kuai Liang still found it hard to believe the change that had occurred in such a short time. He answered Tomas’s question in a flat voice,“Yes, I feel much better now.” To divert Tomas’s attention and avoid probing further, he turned his gaze to the books you were examining. “What are you doing?”

“We’re looking for a solution to break the curse,” you intervened in a soft voice. “I found these books in the library; I thought maybe there might be something useful in them.” Your gaze shifted from him to the notebook in front of you, scribbling something that he couldn’t read from this distance. “We’ve tried several solutions so far, but none of them have worked.”

“What were the things you tried?”

“Well, I tried to buy a small bottle of holy water from a church nearby and bless the book. When that didn’t work, I read somewhere that a little blood and certain prayers could be effective in breaking the curse, so I tried that this time.”

You raised your left hand and showed him your palm, revealing a long, thin cut running from the little finger to the thumb. Judging by the look of the cut, it seemed to have been at least a few days old. Kuai Liang was surprised that you had hurt yourself for them, but his astonishment faded when he reminded himself that this was likely part of the deception.

“You said burning didn’t work, but I tried it again to explore every possibility. Besides that, there’s actually another method that comes to my mind; there are people who specialize in breaking curses. Normally, I didn’t really believe in such things, but after all this, I’m considering every possibility now. I don’t know how we can explain this whole thing to them, but maybe I can ask them for help. If I can’t break the curse, at least they can guide us.”

“I don’t know how much more we have to tell you to make you understand.” Bi-Han’s voice interrupted as he entered the living room. Kuai Liang observed you shift in your seat anxiously, while Tomas subtly straightened his posture in a protective manner. “You can’t break Quan Chi’s curse with such ridiculous things. If it were that easy, we wouldn’t be here right now.”

“I know, but—”

“Stop this game,” Bi-Han interjected, his tone growing impatient. Although you tried not to show your uneasiness, you shifted again, and your hands clenched into fists on the counter, uncertain of what to do.

“What game?” You asked in a soft yet timid voice. “I’m just trying to help.”

“Unwanted help would only be an imposition. There’s no one here who wants your help. Is that so hard to understand, or are you really daft?”

As Tomas quickly rose from his seat, the chair made a painful squeal against the floor. “Bi-Han! Take back your words.”

“Do you realize who you are defending from whom?” Bi-Han growled, his demeanor emanating a threatening coldness, yet there was a determination in Tomas’s stance that he would not back down from his statement. Although Kuai Liang still couldn’t decipher how things had escalated to this point in just a week, he intervened to diffuse the situation before it escalated further.

“Guys-”

However, you acted before him, placing one hand on Tomas’s arm and drawing his attention back very easily, as if you had pressed a button.

“It’s all right, Tomas,” you said in a kind voice.

“But-”

“It’s alright,” your voice was still gentle, but there was also a certainty that emphasized the words. “There’s no harm, I’m fine.” After gently patting him on the arm, you continued to talk, focusing your gaze on one point rather than turning to them. On the other hand, you got up from where you were sitting and started picking up the mess on the counter. “I have a job interview, I won’t be here for a few hours. I’ll be back before sundown.” Just before closing your notebook, you suddenly turned your head to Kuai Liang as if something had occurred to you. “Oh, I almost forgot. On my way back, I’ll stop by the grocery store and shop for a few necessities for home. Is there a dish you like?”

Kuai Liang was stunned by this unexpected question. “A dish I like?” he echoed, his brows furrowing and incredulity evident in his voice. Despite the tension that just happened, you still answered his question with a small smile that you managed to put on your face.

“Yes. I want to make a meal that you like to celebrate your recovery; I’m sure you’ll feel better.”

***

“Why do you have to keep being rude?” As Tomas paced angrily around the room, Bi-Han lounged on a single sofa, spreading his legs in a relaxed manner that suggested he was indifferent to the situation. Kuai Liang observed the two of them, sensing a tingling at the nape of his neck—a foreboding sign of the headache that was about to enter his head.

“I’m tired of explaining, but you’re still not tired of asking same questions. I can actually understand why you’re getting along with her so well; you’re both terribly insistent on not understanding.”

“You’re only acting like a bully by being rude to someone who doesn’t deserve it,” said Tomas, as he stopped pacing and stood in front of Bi-Han. Bi-Han tilted his head back slightly, maintaining eye contact with Tomas and quietly responding to his challenge. While it was common for the two of them to struggle to find common ground and for Kuai Liang to act as mediator, this confrontation felt different. Tomas was resolute in his determination to protect you, leading him to confront Bi-Han. The presence of someone unfamiliar getting under his brother’s skin was evident. Kuai Liang found himself straddling the line between frustration over the situation and concern for Tomas.

“She’s already wrapped you around her finger. Just like Leilani-”

“Don’t mention her name,” Tomas interjected, his voice unusually harsh. “There is a difference between them; she is a really nice person. Is it that hard to believe?”

“And so you’ve figured it out in a short period of time, like a week. Congratulations to you. I wish you could really hit it this time compared to last time.”

“Bi-Han-”

When Kuai Liang rose to intervene with a warning tone, Tomas acted before him and grabbed Bi-Han with a rustle, at a speed that even Bi-Han could not decipher.

“Do you know what your problem is? You’re a coward.”

“Tomas-”

“Let him finish, Kuai Liang,” said Bi-Han, his voice eerily calm.

“You’re afraid to trust, aren’t you? That’s why you’re like this; you don’t want to let anyone near you through your arrogant walls.”

Tomas’ words hung heavily in the air, a tense silence covering the room as his words echoed on the walls. Bi-Han’s expression was illegible, but Kuai Liang could feel the anger boiling under the surface. After all, he knew his brother well enough to understand when his boundaries were being pushed.

“You think you understand everything, don’t you?” Bi-Han retorted, his voice piercingly cold. “You, who wear your heart on your sleeve, dare to juge me?”

“I’m not judging you; I’m just stating the truth.” After Tomas finished his words, he released Bi-Han and left the room in a cloud of smoke. Kuai Liang heard the faint click of the study door closing nearby.

“You’re going at him too hard,” He said with a sigh. “Even if he has an interest in her, don’t turn it into spite with your approach.”

‘’Do you think it’s up to my approach? Just look at him, he’s already under her spell.’’ Bi-Han argued.

‘’Even so, he is our brother. He needs our support. Stop setting him against you.’’

‘’He is the one who confronted us for the woman.’’

‘’You’re the one who triggered it,’’ Kuai Liang said, his patience wearing thin. ‘’Go get some air, collect your thoughts. I’ll take care of Tomas.’’

‘’Give him some mind.’’

Due to the small size of the house, Kuai Liang easily left the living room behind. When he reached the study, he softly opened the door and entered. Tomas stood a little further away, in front of the window, arms crossed, watching outside silently. He spoke in a dry voice without turning his head, even though he heard Kuai Liang’s approach.

‘’If you’re going to say the same things as Bi-Han, don’t bother at all.’’

“We are both thinking only of your well-being, Tomas.’’

“Come on, Kuai Liang, I’d rather you speak for yourself,’’ Tomas retorted. Kuai Liang gently placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder. Tomas didn’t push it away, but he still didn’t turn his head, his gaze fixed outside, his expression tense, the muscle on his chin clearly showing that he was angry about what had happened.

‘’You know Bi-Han, he may seem cold from the outside, but you know as well as I that he cares, he just fails to show it.’’

“Okay, maybe there’s some merit to his worries, but she didn’t do anything to deserve it, the only thing she’s shown us since the moment we came out of the book is just kindness, Kuai Liang. Thanks to her, I can sleep. You know too well what this means to me.’’ Tomas finally met his eyes, sincerity evident in his gaze. ‘‘I want you to give her a chance.’’

“Tomas-‘’

“I know you don’t trust her, but trust me,” his brother said, his voice tinged with a plea. “I understand I’m asking too much, but if you give her a chance, you’ll understand what I meant.”

Kuai Liang was at a loss for words. Tomas was more attached than he thought. Trust? He should have known that this was not possible, especially after what happened to them and the memories that still haunted his nightmares… He decided to drop the subject for now, it was clear they wouldn’t get anywhere if this matter dragged on.

When Kuai Liang initiated a small conversation to find out what had been going on for a week, Tomas set aside the tension and began to provide him with a summary of recent events. Kuai Liang observed his brother’s eyes light up and an small smile grace his face as he spoke about you. Despite appreciating Tomas’s strength in choosing to trust you, Kuai Liang couldn’t shake the bitter pain of the possibility of leaving wreckage in its wake. Collecting the pieces was becoming increasingly difficult, and this time, the prospect of there being any pieces left to gather was doubtful.

As time passed and the sun set, casting colorful lights across the cityscape outside the window, Kuai Liang felt his body slowly begin to ache. His joints felt as though there was no cartilage between them, his mouth was dry, and his eyes burned. A throbbing headache started to pulse at his temples, while a wave of dizziness washed over him, causing him to sway unsteadily for a moment. Tomas, too, rubbed his eyes, indicating that he was experiencing similar symptoms.

“How many hours has she been gone?” Kuai Liang asked as he left the room, with Tomas trailing behind him.

“Four or five hours, I think.”

He found Bi-Han standing up and scratching his arms almost to the point of bleeding, Kuai Liang called out to him to stop. Bi-Han, however, seemed oblivious to his surroundings. For some reason, Bi-Han was the most sensitive among them. While Kuai Liang and Tomas could endure their master’s absences for a while, Bi-Han almost lost his mind during those times. The icy force that cocooned him decayed, and when faced with the outside world, Bi-Han couldn’t adapt to the change in temperature, causing his skin to painfully burn.

“Bi-Han! You have to stop before you hurt yourself,’’ Kuai Liang urged as he grabbed one of Bi-Han’s wrists and tried to pull him out of the trance. Bi-Han, lost in his agitation, initially didn’t register Kuai Liang’s presence, snarling like a wild animal and glaring with a crazed look in his eyes. Undeterred, Kuai Liang maintained his calm demeanor and tried again, ‘’You’re hurting yourself brother. You have to stop.’’

With a blink, Bi-Han snapped out of his trance, wrenching his wrist from Kuai Liang’s grip with force as he regained his composure, cursing angrily.

‘’Where the hell has this damn woman disappeared to? She should have been here hours ago!’’.

“This is the first time this has happened,” Tomas intervened, approaching them with a nervous look on his face. “Could something have happened to her?”

Kuai Liang had considered this possibility as well. If you were truly as kind-hearted as Tomas claimed, your intention couldn’t have been to cause them suffering, even if you knew they would be weakened by your absence. He knew that Tomas struggled to adapt to the outside world after emerging from the book, and Bi-Han would have been incapable of going out to search for you in that state, likely resorting to attacking someone or causing further harm to himself.

‘’I’ll go look after her, you stay here.’’ Ultimately, Kuai Liang decided it was best for him to handle the situation himself.

‘’I’m going with you too,’’ Tomas insisted.

‘’No, you stay with Bi-Han. It’s better that he’s not alone in this state.’’

‘’I’m not a cripple-‘’ Bi-Han began, but his words trailed off as the front door swung open. All three turned towards the door as you entered, raincoat soaked and holding a wet paper bag in one hand while the other seemed to conceal something under your raincoat. As your presence instantly offered them relief, Bi-Han lunged forward, bypassing any attempts to stop him, and positioned himself next to you, his stance emitting threatening signals from all sides.

‘’Where the hell have you been?’’ he demanded, leaning in closer. As Bi-Han cornered you, Kuai Liang moved to intervene with Tomas, while you attempted to explain yourself with a nervous, agitated tone. Startled by the tension, the paper bag slipped from your hand and fell to the ground.

‘‘I’m so sorry! On my way back, I found this kitten.” you said. Opening the front of your raincoat, you revealed the tiny feline tucked inside. Its meowing broke the tension as its head emerged. Tomas and Kuai Liang flanked Bi-Han, their attention captured by the small, pitiful-looking kitten. With a completely black body, its fur contrasted sharply with the white around its gray eyes and the pink tip of its nose. Its ears stood erect atop its small head.

‘’It was on the side of the road, its mother had been hit by a car, and its siblings had also perished. I discovered it nestled among them, trying to find warmth. I couldn’t leave it there,” you explained, your voice soft with compassion.

Bi-Han scoffed, “You have no livelihood, and your house is too small for all of us to fit in. As if all this wasn’t enough, are you going to try to take care of a fleabag now?’’ Despite his bother’s harsh and offensive words, the kind expression on your face while caring for the kitten remained unchanged.

“I will be its foster home. When it gets well enough, it’ll go to its real family.”

Bi-Han glanced at you briefly, muttering, “Whatever,” before pivoting on his heels and retreating to the living room. Tomas came up to you, giving you a little kiss on the top of your head and stroking the kitten that was perched on your lap. Relief washed over his face after he confirmed that you hadn’t suffered any harm.

“Are you going to give her a name?” he asked curiously.

“Yes, because it feels strange in my head to constantly call it ‘kitten.’ Does anyone have any ideas?” When your gaze turned to both of them, Kuai Liang remained silent, captivated by your image. Your cheeks and the tip of your nose were flushed from the rain outside, your skin and hair wet, and a sincere smile hidden on your face that touched his heart. You looked painfully innocent standing there with the kitten in your lap, a different image from the masters of the other book he had encountered so far.

“How about the name of that actor we watched last time?” Said Tomas, as he continued to stroke the kitten’s chin. The kitten’s eyes were closed in happiness, emitting loud purrs that reverberated through its tiny body, indicating how much it enjoyed being petted.

“Johnny Cage?” A small laugh poured from your lips. Kuai Liang tried not to dwell on how sweet and addictive your laugh had an air. “I’m sorry, but I think it’s a lady, Tomas. Oh, I found it! How about Ninja? She is a warrior just like you guys.”

“We are not ninjas,” Kuai Liang couldn’t help himself but chuckle at your suggestion. “But because the fur around her eyes is white, it looks like she’s wearing a mask. Ninja is actually not a bad name.”

“Yes, it suits her.”

“Good, then from now on your name is Ninja, little one. I couldn’t get the job, but I found you, so I guess it’s a win-win.” you said, stroking the kitten’s head. “I need to wash her thoroughly, she’s too dirty. After that, I’ll start on cooking. Is everyone hungry?”

***

Kuai Liang was completely silent as he looked at the plate you left in front of him. He didn’t really think you were going to make the food he liked.

‘’What’s the matter?’’ Tomas looked at him with sidelong eyes while stuffing a generous amount of morsel into his mouth. ‘‘You haven’t even touched your plate once.’’

‘’Aren’t you hungry?’’ You said in a slightly worried voice. Kuai Liang lifted his gaze from the food in front of him and looked at you. As he met your gaze, he noticed the fatigue evident in your eyes, weariness etched into their corners. Kuai Liang muttered in a voice that sounded foreign to his own ear.

‘’This is jiaozi.’’ He said, as if that cleared everything up.

‘’Yes.’’ You continued to speak despite your statement that you did not understand what he meant. ‘‘I’ve never done it before, so I had to look on the internet a little. Did I do it wrong?’’

Against the innocent question, Kuai Liang found himself confronting a flood of unfamiliar emotions. The last time he ate Jiaozi—also known as Chinese dumplings—was at Lin Kuei, and their father had not yet died. Kuai Liang had always liked eating this food. Normally, eating was more mechanical for him because of his metabolism, and it was an action he needed to do to survive, but he ate this meal completely arbitrarily. Now, years later, seeing this dish in front of him again made him feel nostalgic along with feelings he couldn’t name. Moreover, even though you didn’t know how to make this dish, the fact that you tried just because you knew that he loved it deeply affected him and changed the rhythm of his heart for a moment. For the first time, he felt cared for by someone outside of his family.

‘’No, it looks fine.’’ He said, in a voice that was hard to hear.

‘’Then you better taste it before it gets cold.’’ After Tomas poked him with his shoulder, Kuai Liang picked up one of the dumplings with his chopsticks and put it in his mouth. A contented hum escaped his throat as the flavor he had forgotten instantly flooded his palate, taking him back to his memories.

‘’It’s quite delicious.’’ He said, appreciating your hard work without concealment. ‘‘Thank you.’’

With those words, a genuine smile lit up your face, radiating warmth and sincerity that momentarily stole Kuai Liang’s breath away. He couldn’t help but marvel at the allure you possessed, understanding a little better now why Tomas was drawn to you. Your sincerity and infectious smile had a way of making others believe, effortlessly bridging any gaps in communication. It was easy to forget your role as the owner of the book when you interacted with them so naturally, blurring the lines between master and slave with remarkable ease.

“Great, because I made a pot full of this, it’s nice that you like it.’’ You said with a chuckle. Then you left them for a minute to give Ninja the little plate you had prepared. After you had cleaned and dried Ninja nicely, you released her to explore the house. The kitten had adapted to the environment as easily as if she had been a member of this house for years. There was no indication in her small body that she was afraid of them. In fact, on the contrary, she was constantly chasing Bi-Han as if she was thirsty for his attention. Bi-Han finally couldn’t stand the kitten’s high-pitched meows and chasing after him anymore, so he went into the study and closed the door behind him. Ninja had not left the door since he had entered the room.

‘’Come along, sweet thing, it’s dinnertime.’’

You returned with Ninja on your lap, and when you placed her on the floor and left the food you had prepared in front of her, Ninja completely forgot about Bi-Han and focused on the food in front of her. Kuai Liang slightly stretched out from his seat, watched the kitten eating with a half smile, attacking her food with a great appetite and emitting strange, happy noises.

‘‘If you don’t want to turn into an ice floe, I suggest you don’t follow that grump.’’ said Tomas, swallowing the morsel he was chewing.

‘‘I think he’ll get used to it,’’ your soft voice was tinged with hope as you reached for your own plate. ‘’Who can say no to a cute kitten?’’

‘’Bi-Han, of course.’’ Tomas quipped.

‘’Maybe he can get used to it after spending some time,’’ Kuai Liang said, joining you. ‘’Ninja looks pretty convincing.’’

‘’Isn’t she?’’ Laughing, you raised your own glass of the wine you had opened with the meal. ‘’To Ninja.’’

Tomas and Kuai Liang also chuckled and raised their glasses, clinking them together. As Kuai Liang took a sip of his wine, he felt inexplicably light at that moment, as if the damage that the past years had left on his body and mind had lifted a little, leaving him temporarily free to enjoy the moment. After allowing himself to eat as much as he wanted again, just like in porridge, Kuai Liang once again encountered the strangeness of feeling his stomach full. It didn’t seem like this feeling could get used to for a while longer.

As he lay on the sofa, one hand over his stomach and the other behind his head, many thoughts ran through his mind. They helped you clean up after dinner, and when you retreated to your room after saying that the day was tiring and you couldn’t stand up anymore, Tomas—and of course Ninja—followed you.

Even though he guessed that the two of you were sleeping together, it felt different to witness it. It’s like… it’s like he wanted to be there, in that bed with you, even though he didn’t want to admit it, even though he didn’t want to think about it. There was a kind of jealousy in his feelings this time, rather than his concern for Tomas. He could see how good you were for Tomas, and a part of him longed for that connection too. It was like catching a glimpse of heaven, yet he couldn’t fully embrace it. He both wanted and didn’t want more, the conflict he fell into was incomprehensible even to himself.

Although Kuai Liang couldn’t understand how it happened, his eyes closed after a while, and he found himself facing one of his old memories.

‘’Come here, Kuai Liang.’’

Leilani’s voice was alluring yet toxic as she pulled on the chain attached to his collar, coaxing him into bed. He despised the collar, feeling like a mere animal under her control. Despite his inner protest, he knelt beside her on the satin sheets. A satisfied smile appeared on Leilani’s face as he knelt down.

Kuai Liang was surprised more and more every time how he could have been attracted to this woman once. It was a ridiculous situation to have allowed himself to be deceived so easily; now when he looked, all he saw was nothing more than a venomous snake, dangerous, cruel, and selfish.

‘‘I will host a celebration tomorrow, and some of my most important guests will be in attendance. While Tomas doesn’t have problems getting hard quickly due to his youth, I need someone who can go more than a few rounds. Taming Bi-Han can be tiresome; his stubbornness is often exhausting.” When Leilani grasped his manhood and caressed it with interest, although Kuai Liang maintained his expressionlessness, his skin stretched in disgust. He couldn’t stand the touch of this woman. ‘’You know what I want from you, don’t you? Have no doubt that I will reward you well, Kuai Liang. You know, I keep my word.’’

Kuai Liang wanted to scream, telling her to hold her forked tongue between her teeth to her face. This was almost a need rather than a desire; it had been a long time since her hollow promises had lost their meaning for him. After he remained silent, Leilani pulled the chain harder. With a sudden tightening of his throat, his breath remained congested in his throat, and a muffled sound left his lips.

‘’I cannot hear that you approve of my words,’’ Leilani said, almost hissing. He was clenching his jaw, pressing his teeth together so hard that for a moment he thought they would break under the pressure he was applying. When he managed to say the words, albeit with difficulty, Leilani’s dark green eyes shone with satisfied sparkles.

‘’That is my warrior, always ready to satisfy.’’

As Kuai Liang opened his eyes with a sharp breath, the morning sun greeted him warmly, casting a golden glow across the room. He blinked away the remnants of nightmare, his hand instinctively reaching to brush aside the strands of hair that had fallen across his face during the night. When he heard the front door click, he opened one eye and turned towards the door, only to find you there, looking slightly guilty as if caught in the act.

“Good morning. Did I wake you up again?” you asked in a whispering voice.

“No, I’ve just woken up,” Kuai Liang replied, his brow furrowing slightly as he noticed your attire. “Are you going somewhere?”

“I need to buy cat litter and food for Ninja. Would you like to accompany me? It won’t take long.” you offered. Thinking it would be beneficial to get some fresh air and distance himself from the walls that surrounded him, Kuai Liang accepted your invitation. Since he was already warm enough, he didn’t bother to grab any additional clothing, knowing that none of your clothes would fit him anyway. As you walked out of the apartment together, he took a deep breath, relishing the scent of the earth after last night’s rain. The clean smell soothed his heart, which had been beating irregularly, and the act of stepping outside helped to ease his tense muscles and nerves.

“Did you sleep well?”

Kuai Liang decided to be honest in his response, knowing he shouldn’t hide the truth from you. His expression clearly conveyed that he hadn’t slept well, and there was no point in pretending otherwise.

“No, I usually have nightmares quite often. So even though I can sleep, I can’t say it’s ‘good,’” he admitted.

Your face softened under the morning sun, your caring gaze causing his heart to flutter. Your words were laced with sadness, mirroring the same emotion in your eyes.

“I use aromatherapy candles to help Tomas sleep, and they obviously work. If you want, I can give them to you to help. Maybe they’ll help you relax a little and prevent the nightmares,” you suggested, your voice filled with hope and sincerity. Kuai Liang considered your offer while silently studying you. It wasn’t just the candles that helped Tomas sleep; it was your presence. Your presence brought him peace. But he didn’t voice that sentiment out loud.

“Thank you,” he said finally. “I’d like to try.”

After responding to his answer with a smile, you began to introduce him to the surroundings. As you talked about where you usually shop for groceries and how you like to buy yourself coffee and sweet rolls from the little coffee shop on the corner from time to time, especially when the weather is nice in the nearby park, you take your book and read or go for a walk. With each detail about your everyday life, Kuai Liang felt himself decelerating even more as he listened to you, and the traces of his nightmare were erased from his mind.

As you recounted a funny incident to him, you couldn’t help but chuckle at the memory. You explained how, in the past, you were walking through the park, lost in thought, when suddenly a squirrel darted out from a nearby bush and startled you. Startled, you leaped back in surprise, only to trip over a wayward tree root and land flat on your back, much to the amusement of onlookers nearby.

‘’I hope you didn’t frighten the poor squirrel too much,” Kuai Liang raised an eyebrow, his eyes alight with amusement. It was a feeling he hadn’t experienced in ages—simple, almost childlike, yet undeniably refreshing. He felt free from the weight of his past, not defined by his role as a slave or an assassin at the moment.

‘’Hey, he scared me first. Besides, we’ve already negotiated a peace treaty since then. I even gave him a few nuts as a gesture of goodwill,” you replied, a sweet giggle escaping your lips.

“Ah, so you’re a diplomat as well as… What? A squirrel whisperer?” he quipped, a small, teasing smirk playing at the corners of his lips. A sense of disbelief washed over him—how could he find such joy, effortlessly smiling and laughing, with not a single troubling thought in his head.

You laughed at his response, the sound ringing out joyfully in the quiet street. Kuai Liang found himself captivated by the sight of you, so carefree and full of life. It made you seem so much younger and more beautiful, your eyes sparkling with mirth, your cheeks flushed with laughter. In that moment, he felt a swell of pride, knowing that he could bring such joy to you with just a simple exchange. It was almost magical to witness firsthand, and he couldn’t help but feel grateful for the opportunity to share this moment with you.

“I named him Theodore, after a character from a kids’ movie,” you explained with a smile. “He’s quite a chubby squirrel, but you’ll like him. He’s got quite the personality.”

***

It had been a week and a half since Kuai Liang had ventured out of bed, and during that time, he found himself gradually becoming accustomed to your constant presence. Despite his initial resistance, he couldn’t deny the magnetic pull you seemed to have on him. Every unexpected gesture or interaction only served to deepen his connection to you, making it increasingly difficult for him to maintain his distance.

Despite your respectful boundaries and reluctance to initiate physical intimacy, Kuai Liang couldn’t help but be captivated by the chemistry between you and Tomas. Your gentle exchanges and tender gazes toward his brothers stirred a longing within him, a desire to be a part of the connection you shared. Yet, his past experiences lingered like a shadow, a constant reminder of the risks involved in opening up to vulnerability. So, Kuai Liang found himself silently observing from a distance, still caught between the yearning for connection and the past wounds resurfacing. Though he longed to bridge the gap between himself and the warmth you and Tomas shared, he remained rooted in hesitation, unable to take the leap of faith. Thus, he stayed in the background, watching and wanting, but unable to dare to take action.

Taking a deep breath of the lavender-scented candle that you had left in the room, Kuai Liang tried to relax his body and quiet his mind. With each inhale, the calming scent enveloped him, easing the tension from his muscles and soothing his restless thoughts.

With another breath, he started to ascend into the waiting darkness, his body going lax, mind numbing. Everything smelled of lavender, mingled with the faint scent of you.

“Stand here, Tomas. And you, Bi-Han. Kuai Liang, come forward,” Leilani’s voice rang out within the hall as she positioned them in front of the gathered guests. Tomas stood with a stoic resolve, Bi-Han’s gaze betrayed a mix of defiance and resignation, while his eyes held a glimmer of suppressed rage. Leilani, draped in luxurious attire, circled them like a queen inspecting her subjects.

“Don’t let the youngest brother’s appearance fool you; Tomas is well-behaved and knows exactly how to please his lovers, always eager to satisfy their desires. As for Bi-Han, the eldest, he relishes in taking the dominant role in bed, but he’s also open to relinquishing control when desired. And then there’s Kuai Liang, the middle brother,” Leilani declared with a coy smile. She moved closer to him, her warm breath tickling his neck as she nibbled on his earlobe.

“He’s the feisty one, capable of enduring for hours thanks to his incredible stamina. If you’re looking to extend your pleasure beyond a couple of rounds, he’s my favorite in that regard,” she murmured seductively. Leilani’s words dripped with temptation, accentuating their prowess in the bedroom as she enticed her guests. The guests murmured amongst themselves, their eyes darting between Leilani and them. Tomas clenched his jaw in silent fury, Bi-Han’s fists tightened at his sides, he remained outwardly stoic, though inwardly he seethed with anger and humiliation.

As Leilani’s hand trailed down his chest, he fought back a grimace, his skin recoiling at her touch. Silently, he masked the turmoil within, but beneath the surface, a fierce determination smoldered—to break free from the chains that bound him to this life of servitude and degradation.

Kuai Liang woke up with a gasp when he heard someone call his name in the distance, feeling a rough wetness on his cheek. As he registered Ninja’s hot breath on his face, he struggled to comprehend the situation. How had he not noticed the kitten climb onto his lap? Ninja meowed, rubbing her little head against his chin, and with her purrs, she nestled herself in the area between his chin and neck, settling down to rest.

‘’Kuai Liang?’’

Hearing your voice nearby, Kuai Liang was careful not to disturb the kitten’s comfort, turning his head slightly to the side and looking at you. Thanks to the city lights outside, he could easily pick out your facial contours. You were on your knees so that you could see him more comfortably, your expression was worried, your eyebrows furrowed as you carefully examined him, wearing an old plush dressing gown.

‘’Are you all right?’’

‘’Have you been watching me?’’ Kuai Liang’s voice sounded so muffled that it seemed foreign and incomprehensible even to his own ears.

‘’No, actually, I came to drink some water. I heard you mumbling, thought you were having a nightmare. That’s why I wanted to wake you up.’’

Before Kuai Liang straightened up, he took Ninja on his lap and leaned his back against the armrest of the couch. He carefully stroked the kitten’s soft head, drawing a deep breath into his lungs. Her body was almost the size of his hand, so small that Kuai Liang was afraid of accidentally hurting the kitten. However, for Ninja, it didn’t seem to matter how big he was; she surrendered herself completely to his touch, content. Her happy purrs filled the silence.

Kuai Liang had never thought that he could be grateful for the existence of a kitten before, but right now, he was more grateful than ever for being distracted. It had alienated him from the imaginary hands and touches that were wandering on his skin.

“Yes,” Kuai Liang said after a while. ‘’I was having nightmares about my past.’’

Upon his answer, you sat down in the single seat opposite him and asked in a polite, even voice that showed you were a little afraid to express it.

‘’Do you want to talk about it?’’

Kuai Liang wanted to dismiss the matter by saying no at first, but then, Tomas’ words echoed in his mind and stopped him.

’I know you don’t trust her, but trust me.’

Kuai Liang thought that he was smart enough not to make the same mistake a second time. Until this moment. Something inside him, a feeling, an impulse, or whatever it was, whispered that he could trust you. Even though it seemed stupid, Kuai Liang wanted to try it. Maybe he hadn’t fully recovered from his nightmare yet, maybe he was aware of everything, contrary to the fact that he was fooling himself, and he still wanted to do it. Regardless of the reason, they all came to the same conclusion in the end.

‘’Her name was Leilani. She was the sixteenth owner of the book.’’

Kuai Liang spoke in a tone of voice that only you could hear. He could imagine the reactions his brothers would have if they heard him mention Leilani, and he didn’t feel healthy and in control enough to deal with them right now. His emotions and thoughts were everywhere; the thing that held him together was the tiny kitten on his lap and your presence, keeping him calm.

“Leilani was a sorceress who lived in the Outworld lands, not particularly powerful but was well known and had important connections throughout Outworld. The book had reached her through a merchant.’’ Kuai Liang said, despite his body convulsing with tension as he resurfaced those memories, he continued. When he mentioned that she had an approach that set her apart from other masters, that she might even find a solution to this curse like you, he watched your expression clash with a mix of surprise and resentment. From what he gathered from your reaction, Tomas had briefed you on what happened.

Despite the tension coursing through his body, the words flowed easily from his lips, one by one. When he reached the part about how Leilani won their trust, you remained as still as a statue. Leilani had always been kind and overly generous to them, until she revealed her true colors. She indulged their desires, bought them separate gifts, and made sure they were satisfied. It wasn’t difficult for them to believe her, as it was the first time someone had approached them like this since they were sealed inside the book. However, from that moment on, Leilani underwent a complete transformation. Now that she knew she had their trust, she began to play a different game with them.

No master had ever bothered to toy with their hopes before; typically, it was just orders and dark desires to be fulfilled. But for Leilani, playing with their hopes was more enjoyable than giving orders. She claimed to have found a way to save them from the curse, starting with seemingly harmless requests. At first, neither he nor his brothers were bothered by these small tasks. However, as the requests began to erode their pride, they realized the truth: Leilani was playing with them like a cat with a mouse. There was no freedom, no guarantee that her promises would be fulfilled—it was all just part of her game.

Especially when parties were held, it was the time that Leilani enjoyed the most. She liked to humiliate them in front of everyone, to highlight their weaknesses, which she knew very well, to announce that they were the deadliest assassins of a noble clan before, but now they were love slaves, to see them used as objects.

‘I know Tomas doesn’t like the dark; you wouldn’t want me to lock your brother in a room with no light for a week, would you?’

‘I discovered by chance last week that Bi-Han has a lot of sensitivity to my absence. You don’t want me to test how much longer he can stand it, do you Kuai Liang? Be a good slave and follow my orders.’

‘So the famous assassins of Lin Kuei… to come to this point now must be quite crushing your pride. You are nothing more than an object waiting to be used for my desires and nothing more.’

‘Remember who holds the power here, who controls your fate.’

As Leilani’s laughter rang in his mind, at one point when he ran out of words and had nothing more to tell, a silence fell over the room. Kuai Liang was surprised that he had told so much; obviously, he had not expected himself to perform like this. While he was trying to digest that, you suddenly filled his vision and hugged him tightly without crushing Ninja. Kuai Liang remained motionless, his body stiffening as his muscles reflexively contracted. But when he felt hot tears on his shoulder, his whole system was turned upside down.

‘‘Are you crying?’’ He said in an incredulous voice.

‘‘Yes, I- oh my, I’m sorry. Just give me a second, please.’’ When you just stood there without taking your head out of your hiding place, Kuai Liang remained motionless. He could have easily got out of your grip if he wanted, but your touch relaxed him in a way he hadn’t expected and made him feel… good. Your hug was sincere, caring, and full of emotion. His arms moved before his brain, hugging you in the same way; he gently pressed your body to his, feeling your soft and tender touch against his own hard-contoured body. Kuai Liang involuntarily inhaled the clean scent rising from your skin that touched his nose and felt his body relax a little more with the air filling his lungs.

At that exact moment, Ninja squealed because she was stuck between you, and when you both startled and recoiled, the kitten jumped straight from his lap to the ground.

‘’I’m sorry, my friend,’’ said Kuai Liang, apologetically trying to stroke the kitten’s head. ‘’I forgot for a moment that you were there.’’

Fortunately, Ninja seemed to have accepted his apology, allowing her head to be stroked. Then, as she caught the tassels of the carpet on the floor and jumped on them, Kuai Liang’s gaze was fixed on you.

Tears were still flowing softly from your eyes, your expression was so sad that Kuai Liang’s heart contracted with pain at the sight of you, the need to be able to put a smile on your face overwhelmed him. Taking your face between his palms, he asked in a gentle voice. Whenever he touched you, he felt a tingling sensation, like a harmless but enticing spark.

“Why are you crying?”

“I am so angry,” you replied, your voice carrying a mix of harshness and innocence. “I feel such a need to hurt someone for the second time.”

“Who’s the first?”

“Quan Chi,” you said in one breath, attempting to wipe away the tears. Kuai Liang stopped you, his calloused fingertips gently caressing your delicate skin. It felt natural, as if breathing. Even with Leilani, he had never felt such closeness. Was this what Tomas meant?

“Now I understand better why you don’t want to trust. How can a person trust again after all this? This is so cruel.” Kuai Liang felt his heart soften towards you, seeing the tears you shed for them. Neither Leilani nor anyone else felt sorry for them, shed tears, or got angry on their behalf in this way. Frankly, as of now, it didn’t even feel right to compare you to others. Kuai Liang reflected on the stark difference in your empathy and care compared to their previous experiences. “I will help you as much as I can, Kuai Liang. I told Tomas, but I want you to hear and know, too, that I will never lie to you like I have found a solution and play with your hopes. I don’t expect you to believe this, of course, but I want you to know.”

“Thank you,” Kuai Liang said sincerely. “It’s very rare for Tomas to trust someone other than us. I can see you’re good for him. It’s enough for me that you keep this up, he deserves to be happy more than enough.”

“You all deserve it,” you said with a slight reproach in your voice, but your gaze remained loving and sad. “I know how precious this is. I’ll keep it safe with me, and I promise to keep you all safe as well. I won’t let any harm come to you again. Although I haven’t been able to find a solution for the curse right now, at least I can offer you this safe space for now.”

Kuai Liang felt his heart melt completely, enveloped in a warmth so sweet and soft it felt like an embrace. His gaze shifted to your hand, where a scar marred the otherwise delicate skin of your palm. As he gently clasped your hand and cradled it in his own, his fingers traced the faint outline of the scar. He couldn’t still grasp the idea that you had hurt yourself for their sake. When his hand slipped to your wrist and he planted a tender kiss on the palm of your hand, he heard a broken breath escape you.

“You are a good person,” Kuai Liang said, the words coming out of his lips as if he was reassuring himself. Although it was ridiculous that he had fallen into the same situation as Tomas now, despite advising caution, Kuai Liang felt his walls crumbling with every passing second. He was tired of constantly protecting himself, erecting barriers around his heart, and remaining on guard. Battling all his life had left him exhausted, and now, despite the fire within him, Kuai Liang longed for a moment of respite, a chance to calm his body and clear his confused mind. And the solution was only a few breaths away.

You didn’t employ fancy words like Leilani, nor did you shower them with flashy gifts or overwhelm them with compliments. You didn’t exude dominance or pose a silent threat with your presence. There were no orders or rules; in short, you were unlike any master or people they had encountered before. Your speech was naive, your presence harmless, and though your financial situation might not have been affluent, your heart was undeniably generous. You sought to make them as comfortable as possible, ensuring they were full and now even opening your doors to a kitten.

When his gaze shifted to the supposed kitten, he saw Ninja lying a little further away, on her back, her round stuffed belly in clear view. A chuckle escaped his lips at the sight.

“Cats can tell if a person has good intentions or not,” he said, backing up his earlier words. When your attention shifted to Ninja like his, your small genuine laugh filled the room.

“So Ninja played a part in you coming to this conclusion, did she?”

“I can’t deny that Tomas had an influence on this, though not as much as Ninja.” Kuai Liang admitted.

“Just them?” you asked, your expression a bit playful, but mostly covered with a timidity that showed you were still unsure of his reaction. Kuai Liang felt his heart tremble with the look of you.

Before answering, he gently touched your hair with one hand, his fingers moving between the tufts, appreciating the sensation of freedom from any constraints. The label of “slave” had been with him for so long that he had forgotten what it meant to behave like a normal person. As his hand moved from your hair to your soft cheek, you didn’t flinch away. Instead, when you leaned into his touch, just like a cat, Kuai Liang’s heart swelled with the burgeoning interest he was starting to feel towards you.

‘‘How is it possible that I can ignore your influence,’’ Kuai Liang said in a voice filled with awe. ‘‘You’re like a dream I never expected to come true.’’

With his words, your expression softened so much that while tears glistened in your eyes again, the most loving smile settled on your beautiful face that he had ever seen. Then, as if something dawned on you, you chuckled wetly, a sign that you were about to cry.

‘‘Tomas had predicted this would happen,’’ you said.

‘‘How so? Did you both plan this?’’

Against the pure curiosity in his voice, you let out another giggle. Then, as you shook your head from side to side, meaning no, you placed one hand on his cheek and gently stroked his skin with your thumb. In that moment, the question marks in Kuai Liang’s head became silent.

‘‘It’s just your brother knows you too well,’’ When the look on your flushed face and shy gaze landed on his lips, Kuai Liang felt his heart quicken and his body fill with anticipation. You asked with a feather soft voice, ‘‘May I kiss you?’’

Instead of answering, Kuai Liang inclined his head, finding your lips without hesitation. With a sigh, you welcomed him, lips parting in acceptance as he drew you closer, his other hand gently encircling your waist. The kiss was slow, unhurried, and tender, as if time stood still and belonged only to them. Your tenderness shook the walls around Kuai Liang even more deeply than before. It was as if you feared hurting him, a sensation he had never experienced, let alone kissed with such care. His heart pounded with a fierce rhythm, ignited by a wild protective instinct.

You were a unique presence, offering a glimpse of the man he once was, a rarity he had never encountered before. In return, Kuai Liang longed to learn every facet of you, to etch even the smallest details into his memory. ‘This must be what they call addiction,’ he thought. This was the only way he could best describe the effect you had on him.

As your body touched his, your fingers gently entwining between his long black hair, and your eyes closed in trust, Kuai Liang found himself experiencing a feeling he had never tasted before. It was more than an instant sensation; it hit him like a slap and shook his very existence. It felt like completion. You were filling a part of himself that he didn’t even know was missing. You were the hope he dared not embrace, the goodness that remained pure in a world of ugliness. Being able to touch you was a lifeline, anchoring him to reality and reminding him that this was really happening, that you were here, on his lap, between his arms.

When Kuai Liang kissed you with a deeper, awakening passion, you didn’t resist. Instead, you put your arms around his neck, your grip soft and yielding, showing once again that you left the choice to him rather than demanding more. You were simply there, touching him, and it was clear from everything that you were content with just that.

He wanted to laugh at Tomas for knowing him better than he knew himself, but a strange lump formed in his throat, making it difficult to swallow. Part of him felt tainted by the countless bodies he had touched, as if no matter how much he scrubbed his skin clean, he could never rid himself of the imaginary hands that had touched, grasped, clawed, and caressed him. Lips that kissed and bit him, leaving their forever mark. Thus, he felt as though he had stained you by touching you. But the selfish, hungry part of him, which brought to the surface all the forgotten feelings, was more dominant; he wanted you. And because he had chosen to open his heart for the first time, he wanted to believe that you would keep it safe, as you promised.

Perhaps this time, there was no need for him to protect his heart behind its walls.

#in the middle of the night #mk1 kuai liang #kuai liang x y/n #kuai liang x you #bi han x y/n #tomas x you #reader insert #ao3 writer #ao3fic #ao3 link #ao3 fanfic #mortal kombat1 #mortal kombat fic #sub zero mortal kombat #bi han mk #bi han mortal kombat #mortal kombat #mk1 #mk1 2023 #mk tomas vrbada

[moronkombat]

Yo glad you're back!! Platonic hcs on being the Lin kuei bros youngest sister who's a cryomancer? How likely will the line blur to being your older brother to father figure with Bi-han? Kuai feeling alienated to their bond as siblings due to being a pyromancer. Tomas feeling more left out even when we try to

As much as I love fun healthy family dynamics, the dysfunctional fits more for them.

you have no idea how badly i had to resist making this dark and nasty

Bi-Han:

Although he knows he is your elder brother, he treats you more as someone to lead and guide

His resentment for his father burns far too brightly for Bi-Han to sit idle and let him father you

He often speaks for you when it comes to interactions with your father and once your father dies, Bi-Han takes it upon himself to mold you into the perfect Lin Kuei

Very harsh and critical of your cyromancy and will have you train relentlessly until the technique is perfected

This is done not out of cruelty but out of concern for you and the desire for you to be strong and capable

Bi-Han plans for you to be part of his elite along side Sektor and Cyrax and so he needs to to be able to take care of yourself and have strength that can match his own

Kuai Liang:

Kuai Liang is the only one of his siblings that knows the kiss of a flame and when you were born, he was hopeful that you would too

Alas, you did not. You a cryomancer just like his elder brother but for a long time he held out hope that perhaps you'd be gifted with both abilities. This was wishful thinking

Still, this did not stop him from forming a close relationship with you. He's a protective brother but not overly so

Although he knows you will never wield fire, he still teaches you some of the skills he has in the hopes you can adapt them to your cryomancy. The results are mixed

Upon his departure from the Lin Kuei, he pleaded for you to join him but you refused to leave Bi-Han

Kuai Liang was absolutely crushed and even thought about stealing you away but what would that accomplish? You'd only hate him more

Now he must settle with the fact that you two will one day clash blades. It is no easy task for him

Tomas:

You were but a small baby when Tomas was accepted in your family and so you grew up knowing him as a brother

Tomas enjoyed playing with you when you were younger. It seemed he finally had someone to connect with, someone who wasn't so naturally gifted in elements

It did not last. Your cryomancy manifested and Tomas felt disappointed but kept it to himself. He told you he was happy for you

But the discovery of your abilities meant less time together. You needed to train and master your abilities

This left little time for you and Tomas to play like you always used to. That chapter of life so harshly closed and naturally you drifted apart from him

Tomas missed you horribly and felt even worse when you spent more time with Bi-Han and he often caught himself wishing things were different

#mortal kombat #mk1 2023 #mortal kombat fanworks #mortal kombat headcanons #mk1 #bi han #mk1 bi han #tomas vrbada #mk smoke #mk1 kuai liang #kuai liang

[prettyboysdontlookatexplosions]

[fic] you've got the butterflies all tied up (1/2)

In short, Quentin — neurotic, depressive, insecure, inexperienced, nerdy, dyspeptic Quentin Coldwater — fucked more or less like any other red-blooded American male between the ages of seventeen and twenty-nine.

Eliot could not begin to explain why he found this… so excruciatingly hot.

It made no sense. Eliot had fucked professional athletes and recreational sword swallowers. He had been Daddy and been good for Daddy and been bad for Daddy and hooked up with more than one real-life DILF. He’d had sex while on half a dozen illicit substances, individually and in combinations both tantalizing and terrifying. He’d worn leather and lingerie and a French maid’s outfit, and he’d once received a lapdance from a man who claimed convincingly to have siren blood in his ancestry. He’d dabbled in accessories from blindfolds to handcuffs to edible underwear and beyond, and the spells — god, the spells. The heat and the touch and the delicious rules made to be broken or begged against and the supremely fucked up things sex magic could do to one’s perception of the linear passage of time. He’d had dozens of threesomes and participated in more than one spectacular orgy. Given his greatest hits — the thick-necked blue-eyed bodybuilder who could bench press Eliot’s bodyweight, the dainty Italian pyromancer who did things with non-burning flames Eliot had not seen anyone do before or since, the married gray-haired diplomat who ate him out in the back of a limo — sex with Quentin shouldn’t have cracked the top fifty. It should have been cute, but hardly something to write home about. It should have been basic. It should have been boring.

But it wasn’t. It wasn’t any of those things.

Instead, sex with Quentin — the same handful of positions, the same reliable stable of moves, the same awkward fuckbuddy whose idea of dirty talk was asking “Is that good?” in the exact tone of voice one would use to inquire about the volume while watching TV — was the best sex of Eliot’s life.

part one of the mosaic story is up! it is ~6500 words about: sex, mostly; eliot's deranged inner monologue; quentin's secret reserves of horniness; sexual fantasies of various definitions; incorrect hypotheses; and of course my deeply beloved queliot trope of quentin and eliot fucking each other's brains out 24/7 As Bros and everyone involved being totally super normal and chill about that, obviously.

read on ao3.

#the magicians #queliot #quentin coldwater #eliot waugh #fic i wrote #this is really like almost totally done and the second part should be done by the end of the month #but i got impatient so here's part one!

[through-fire-and-flame]

The rusted plate parts like wheat before the descending axe, and something vital gives way beneath the rotten flesh. The Hollow gurgles, reaches weakly for the pyromancer, and then collapses.

Laurentius wrenches the axe free and stares at the now motionless corpse, face curled in a grim frown.

"Poor bastard," he mutters, snapping the fingers on his free hand. A flame springs into brilliant life above his palm; he steps back and drops the fire onto the corpse.

The morbid pyre carves shadows into his expression, and glints in his stare.

"Rest easy, friend," he murmurs, staring into the flames. After a long - too long - moment, he resumes his path down the corridor, axe at the ready.

#open..? #on pyromancy #look i just needed to write something that wasn't a business story

[phageinoculum]

keeper of the old lords fic i wrote a little while back :)

also on ao3 (with extended nsfw bonus scene)

-

She moved swiftly, darting left and right and spreading waves and gouts of flames from her hands. Her opponent backstepped, attempted to counter. She dodged the thrust of his flaming blade, perched herself upon an upended root and withdrew her own sword, setting it alight. Mind focused, body moving on its own…. 

She knocked her opponent down with a blast of heat and bowed at those cheering on this graceful, mysterious masked woman.

The graceful, mysterious masked woman tripped and flailed when one of the Elders caught her by the shoulder, his other hand holding back her opponent. He gestured towards the altar. Enough sparring. It was time. 

The small crowd of similarly highly skilled pthumerians- Shadows, Warriors, Chieftains and others, enraptured by their fight, now turned as one to the end of the labyrinth chamber. Here was the elevated altar, draped in a blood red cloth and surrounded by a myriad of lit candles and burning incense. Short stairways led up each side of the stone platform. A massive, open doorway loomed behind it all, and what hid beyond it was completely painted in darkness, dotted with barely glowing embers.

One level above, overlooking the chamber, their Queen and a couple of her elite Shadows and Elders accepted fine fungus wine from one of the servants, who then bowed and backed into the door leading out.

The final stage of this ritual was a rare, momentous occasion. But, intimate, too. Relatively few were allowed to bear witness.

If one looked closely, one might spot a dark, shrouded figure hiding within the shadows of the chamber columns, writing and sketching into a journal, glancing up and around periodically with a nervous posture. Most people honored the privacy of this event. Not this one. Well, this particular swordswoman and pyromancer hardly cared. She wanted to know these things, too, so she could practice and anticipate properly.

She moved shoulder-length black hair from her face and felt for her six-eyed skull mask, to make certain it was still in place. There was not much reason, at this point. It was practically fused to her skin now. She wore it always, when sleeping, bathing, eating- the jaw was on a hinge, just like the real thing, and she was quite proud of that. 

These masks were meant for those who had completed the penultimate step of the ritual. She hand carved this replica from ancient bone, and the resemblance was quite close, after many, many failed iterations. They could not truly punish her, for the mask didn’t have the proper amount of eyes, yes? It wasn’t the same. Right? And the ancient bone wasn’t the correct kind of ancient bone. 

That… all was by accident, yes, but it was the best piece she had done up to this point.

Real Keepers generally found this amusing. The Elders, not so much.

Well, they seemed to have given up on this fight by now. Not without a lot of glaring, though.

With the help of the Elder, a withered woman approached the altar at the far end of the chamber. She wore a real, properly eight-eyed skull mask, and nothing else. 

Seasoned warrior, master pyromancer, and now she was about to complete one of their people's most sacred rituals.

She was excited for the warrior whom she knew, but had not seen in ages. Eventually, this would be her fate as well. She was determined to make it so.

“Charnel?”

Charnel- it was a human word that she had heard, once. “Charnel house”, specifically. She liked the sound and adopted it as her own name, although once she learned the translation of the word “house” she had quietly dropped that part of it. It was not too rare for younger pthumerians to borrow names from human languages, possibly for the “exotic” sound of words like “shoe”, possibly because it annoyed their elders to no end, especially those who knew what these “exotic” names really meant. 

On the other side of things, there was at least one human out there tattooed with Pthumerian script, elegant and perfectly copied. 

“It means Vision”, he said. 

“It means eyeballs: do not eat ”, said the pthumerian immigrant he was bothering. “And it’s upside-down.”

She turned and beamed at the healer, who had just finished up with her opponent. The other fighter had bowed politely to Charnel, then lost himself in the crowd.

“No damage!” Charnel chimed, spreading her arms. “Did you see how good I was?”

“Yes, yes, all your practice is truly paying off,” Healer said with a genuine smile, then began healing her anyway, just because it was proper to do so. When she finished, she slipped out of the chamber. Charnel turned her attention towards the altar, and the presentation of the final part of this sacred, secretive ritual.

The first part involved a strict diet of a kind of sparse, almost inedible root and water licked and squeezed from a mildly poisonous moss. And… rocks, although that part was not a requirement, but a desperation tactic that one Keeper had admitted to doing, once, in order to fool the stomach.

All was scavenged from the more remote, dangerous parts of the labyrinth, with no contact nor assistance from others. Most pthumerians were quite thin already– good, non-poisonous food was not in abundance in the underground. Growing fat was a great effort and a thing to be admired. And it was expected that those who gathered enough food to do this, also gather enough to share in a periodic feast for everyone else. This was an event of its own.

Unofficially, Charnel tried practicing the first test, many times. Healer was not thrilled with this. Charnel practiced within the relative safety of pthumerian society, at her urging. Urging not to do this at all, really, but, well… Charnel was an adult, capable of making her own choices.

Charnel was presently serving as a Shadow of Yharnam, not that one could tell from looks. She started wearing a replica of the Keeper’s uniform recently, too, big hat and all. It wasn’t a bad likeness, either. She was quite resourceful when it came to things like this. And no one was able to convince her to stop. The handful of real Keepers enabled it. Charnel amused them. And, she was legitimately skilled in battle, to the point where she had fans, which complicated matters. The Elders gave up.

She knew they would have to truly accept this, sooner or later.

Anyone with sufficiently skilled pyromancy and swordsmanship was allowed to begin the ritual to become a Keeper of the Old Lords. Technically. 

There were Unspoken Rules about this kind of thing.

“You don’t think I can do it?” Charnel had asked Healer, dejected. She was currently having a sword wound healed. Self-inflicted. Her back had been itchy.

“You’re still young,” Healer sighed. “This is a trial for some of the most experienced… and wisest of our… fiery fighters.”

“There’s no actual rule about age though,” Charnel said. “And even if there was, that gives me more time to practice!”

There was more to it than being good at swords and fireballs. Common sense, for starters.

Well. Maybe the Old Lords would at least find her antics outside of battle… “amusing”.

…If she got that far. The thought of her dying, starved and alone, also made her heart ache.

Charnel had not tried practicing again since the day she was caught sitting cross-legged on the floor, swallowing pebbles like really, really hard grapes. One by one, from a neatly gathered pile, down she choked them.

She had stood up abruptly, scattering stones, at the sound of footsteps and darted into the nearest corridor with but a few mumbled, incomprehensible words as explanation.

This was half a lunar phase ago. But, she learned her lesson: find a good hiding place and tastier rocks.

One who passed the first part of the test was allowed to stop, or continue on, rock eating optional. But, if anyone had stopped, it was not public knowledge. It was a lie, that there was no shame in quitting. There were probably failed Keepers wandering the surface now, attempting to live among humans, unable to make themselves return and explain. 

Charnel didn’t understand that. She would return and make up a lie. It seemed simple enough. Of course, she was sure she would succeed, so it hardly mattered.

And after this part of the ritual? It was a secret, and the test taker was not seen again until either they perished, or they finished.

The warrior approaching the altar looked like death, even from this distance. Practically skeletal, practically a mummy. The Elder kept her upright as she shambled up the stairs, then, back to the crowd, he helped place her down gently and sat with her, propping her against his chest. Now, there was prayer, and then the chiming of bells.

An orange dot of light appeared in the dark doorway, growing steadily larger, heavy footsteps echoing throughout the chamber. The ancient, reptilian creature emerged, its skin forever cracked and bleeding intense flames. It felt as if the chamber had become an oven with its entrance. The Watchdog of the Old Lords lowered its massive head, eyeing the Elder and withered woman on the altar. She tilted her head in its direction, for it was about all she could manage. She could not sweat despite the beast’s overwhelming heat. The Elder did, plenty enough for both of them.

The Watchdog sat on its haunches, and it spoke to her, and then to the Elder. Its dialect was ancient, voice rumbly and difficult to hear, mouth never moving except to yawn and show off the bright blazing glow within. She had probably learned the old dialect, too, or at least was studying it. The enervated warrior could not speak above a hoarse whisper and often trailed off as if suddenly lost, however. The Elder acted as translator between the two. 

After a long dialogue, the Elder gently lay her down, stood, and stepped down from the altar to join the other watching pthumerians.

The Watchdog raised one foreleg, and carefully, so carefully, pulled the woman’s jaw open with the pad of its huge finger.

It hovered over her and it opened its maw, and let lava dribble from its mouth, into the warrior’s. She could not scream, only gurgle and sizzle.

It dribbled fat drops of lava down her chest and belly, burning holes into her fragile skin and filling the room with the scent of cooking meat.

The Watchdog spoke. Then, came the stream of fire.

A blackened, charred skeleton with rags for flesh rose from the altar, her undead body still aflame within, now forever aflame, her mask now fused to her melted face and skull. 

Often, there was nothing left of the Keeper’s body after being burned. Nothing but ash that would be gathered and smeared with special paste into their mask and new armor. The burning skeletal warrior was able to don her new hat and uniform herself, with no assistance from the one who brought it to her. She moved like a strange, stop-motion effect at first, growing steadily more fluid in motion.

Eventually, this walking corpse would be her, Charnel thought. She watched, enraptured. This would be her.

#bloodborne #keeper of the old lords #pthumerian #chalice dungeon #fanfic #fanfiction

[thelustybraavosimaid]

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."

"Lord Hallyne has assured me that his pyromancers can control the fire." The Guild of Alchemists had been brewing fresh wildfire for a fortnight. "Let all of King's Landing see the flames. It will be a lesson to our enemies."

"Now you sound like Aerys."

...

The queen could feel the heat of those green flames. The pyromancers said that only three things burned hotter than their substance: dragonflame, the fires beneath the earth, and the summer sun. Some of the ladies gasped when the first flames appeared in the windows, licking up the outer walls like long green tongues. Others cheered, and made toasts.

It is beautiful, she thought, as beautiful as Joffrey, when they laid him in my arms. No man had ever made her feel as good as she had felt when he took her nipple in his mouth to nurse.

...

"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 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)

--

"Westeros is torn and bleeding, and I do not doubt that even now my sweet sister is binding up the wounds…with salt. Cersei is as gentle as King Maegor, as selfless as Aegon the Unworthy, as wise as Mad Aerys. She never forgets a slight, real or imagined." (Tyrion VI, ADwD)

There is no need for Daenerys ending up mad when we already have a mad Queen who is increasingly obsessed with wildfire.

#asoiaf

[thatonebirbnerd]

"Steady, Áedh. Steady."

"I'm trying, sir."

A small sylvari with a low, raspy voice speaks through gritted teeth to a Flame Legion charr. Both their bodies course with flame: the charr's rests within his heart, easily visible through bare skin. The sylvari's - Áedh's - is restless and wild, straining to escape from the singed roots on his head and a wedge of loose bark on his right cheek. He is visibly tense and terrified.

"Keep drawing it in - just like we practiced. Fire is easier to control if you let it live within you."

Áedh doesn't respond. His breathing is heavy, and he's desperately trying to focus. His body ripples with heat.

"I did this, every Flame shaman like me did it. I don't know how well this works with a sylvari, but we have to try..." The charr is trying to be reassuring; it doesn't seem to be working.

"Dacius, please - if it takes over again -"

Struggling to speak, Áedh braces himself against a tent pole. Memories flash through his mind, each one a fresh wave of relived fear and rage.

A familiar, searing pain surges upward from his hands and feet, and fire ripples out, cracking the bark above it into loosened shreds. It threatens to spread further, but the damage stops at his elbows and knees.

"Oh, no. Medic? Do we have a medic here? Áedh, are you-"

The sylvari whimpers. He knows what comes next. Years later, his body still bears the scars.

The heat reaches Áedh's face, and his eyes glow; a lick of flame nestles itself into his cheek, split and twisted long ago. He cries, a ragged cry -

And then, nothing. The fire doesn't overtake him, the way he thought it would - the way it did once.

"Áedh! I brought - oh, wow."

Áedh looks up at Dacius, wide-eyed, his breaths still shallow.

"I... I think you got it. Didn't end up in all the usual spots, but it's a part of you now. It can't hurt you anymore. I promise."

The flame in the sylvari's cheek drifts upward, obscuring his right eye. It seems to have taken root within him, rather than continuing to burn into his eye socket. He lets go of the pole, trembling but able to stand now, and looks down forlornly at his wrists.

Dacius continues. "I can only imagine what's going through your head. I'm not so good at comforting people - charr aren't big on it, and Flame Legion... ha."

Áedh looks up again, smiling a little and chuckling hoarsely.

"But if you need anything... just ask, in whatever way you can, alright?"

The sylvari hesitates for a moment, then reaches out with one hand. Dacius holds it in his paw, carefully so as not to break anything - fire makes wood brittle, after all. Then Áedh pulls toward Dacius, who kneels down to let the young elementalist's head rest on his thinly furred shoulder.

Áedh sheds no tears - they burnt away long ago - but he sobs, exhausted and relieved.

"What will they..." he whispers.

"It's not as gnarly as you think," says Dacius. "Look - the fire is dying down already. It hasn't changed that much. And I have to say, your face -"

Áedh flinches...

"- looks really, really cool like this. It's like the fire was supposed to be there all along."

...then relaxes. He wraps himself around Dacius in as much of a hug as he can muster, considering their sheer difference in size.

Such a leap of progress for a pyromancer is not an average day for Dacius, who is also even less used to hugs than he is to comforting anyone, so perhaps he will take this with him for a while to come. He might even recall it as "that time I figured out that holding someone very small feels nice."

But Áedh will always remember this as the moment he began to conquer his past and his fears. For him, it's a new beginning.

#guild wars 2 #gw2 #sylvari #aedh the blackened #local tree man needs therapy but hugs are good too - more at 11 #kestrel writes #btw thanks tumblr for massively improving the image post experience #long post #(sorry!)

[dailycharacteroption]

Flamesinger (Bard Archetype)

(art by Naiden Romanov on Artstation)

 The motion and light of a flame are fascinating to watch, so it only makes sense that some bards and performers seek to utilize or implement it into their performances.

A long time ago we covered the Flame Dancer archetype for bards here on the blog, but now we look into another fire-themed bard, this one focused on emulating the crackle and sway of flame in their voices, rather than their bodies.

This goes beyond mere metaphor, though, as these mystical musicians utilize their music to channel flame as well. It’s possible that the secrets of this fiery power was originally a creation of either the efreeti genies or a mortal nation with a lot of contact with such beings.

Regardless of the origins of the technique, these bardic pyromancers add the flicker of flame to their performances to enhance them visually or unleash fiery devastation upon their foes.

 It should come as no surprise that these bards learn the fire music technique, letting them infuse their damaging spells with fire to harm foes, and their summons to give them a minor fiery alignment. What’s more, they gain summoning spells automatically as part of their training.

With a special performance, they can also infuse fire into the weapons of allies or enhance already present flame, giving them an edge in combat.

Emulating the speed of spreading flame, flamesingers are also supernaturally fast, zipping about the battlefield.

Interested in taking the fire music feat as a bard, but kicking it up a notch? This archetype may appeal to you. Bolstering the weapons of allies, as well as your spells and summons with fire damage can be useful for damage type coverage, but remember that fire damage is the most common, and commonly resisted damage types in the game. If that doesn’t bother you, I recommend a mixed close combat and support bard, one that buffs nearby allies while also being unafraid to wade into combat themselves.

 I’d recommend doing research into middle eastern musical styles if you’re interested in this archetype. It could give you some ideas of how their music sounds. Of course, you could always defy those expectations as well.

  On the first full moon of summer, the city of Sheeru Taj holds the annual Fire Night celebration, where strong drink is shared alongside fiery performances both metaphorical and literal all night long. There, you can witness musicians blending magical flame into their songs, making the hot night all the more sweltering.

 Despite being a mere mortal, Leeu is determined to master the art of the fire song, joining the ifrit-dominated bardic college to master the art. Though many ridicule her, others are very interested in the potential she offers.

 Though typically associated with sand and sun, the art of flamesinging can be found anywhere, even in the lightless depths. Indeed, some urdefhan battle chanters develop a pyromantic streak to bolster their bloodthirsty allies. However, Gakkik is an exception, using his mastery of flame not for his people, but against them, having grown tired of serving nihilistic fiends.

#pathfinder #archetype #bard #flamesinger #ifrit #human #urdefhan #Elemental Master's Handbook

[quick-attack]

Chronicle of the Flame Knights, Part 1

I have been writing a story about an order of pyromancer knights in a world scarred by a war with dragons. If you are interested at all in the start of a story of brave knights and their elemental partners, strange forces and dark magic, please give it a read! And if you do, please let me know what you think! Thank you!

#writing #story #fantasy #knights #dragons #chronicle of the flame knights #pyromancer #my writing #Cinder Emberbrand #Hennigbränd

[aller-geez]

Get to know: Rexar Fang

29 // he/him // Straight // Pasanta (Catalan urban legend)

Full name: Rexar Fang

Nickname: Rex

Date Of Birth: June 22nd

Big Three: Cancer 🌞 Libra 🌝 Scorpio ↗️

(under construction!!!!)

Physical Appearance —

Age: 29

Eye Color: Red centers with a grey outer ring

Hair Color: Grey with red bangs

Weight: 162 pounds

Height: 6’4

Race: Pasanta (a Catalan Urban Legend that describes them as huge terrifying canines with flames for eyes that comes into peoples homes at night and sits on their chest while they’re asleep, causing breathing problems as well as horrible nightmares)

Distinguishing Marks or Characteristics: Rexar has deep red freckles, and a pale complexion. He has two bridge piercings, both cheekbones (Anti-eyebrow), as well as a piercing in the center of his bottom lip. He constantly has a thin stream of smoke coming from both nostrils that smells of burning maple wood, and it relaxes whoever smells it. Some of his relatives use this trait for malicious things, however Rexar has no interest in killing.

Personality —

Greatest Strength: His pyromancer abilities

Greatest Weakness: his love for his girlfriend, Kriia may sometimes cloud his judgement, causing him to act irrationally.

Soft Spot: Kriia

Mannerisms: Friendly, and outgoing. Golden Retriever personality. Gets along with Remington, and even has somewhat a rivalry going with him. Extremely loving and devoted boyfriend to Kriia, who is pretty much in charge in their relationship.

Miscellaneous Trivia —

Rexar’s family all masquerade as simple Pyromancers, as revealing their true species could end up in their demise. They are very well known and extremely wealthy, leaving Rexar very well off in their huge estate.

In his free time, he is a Trap Metal artist who produces his own music, using one of the guest houses on his property as a studio that he records in as well as occasionally jamming with friends. He goes to local shows and events where he sometimes will preform.

Rexar is also widely known as an experienced marijuana grower. He has converted some of the acreage in his family’s huge estate they had left for him into grow buildings and fields where he grows and cultivates medical marijuana that gets sold to clubs all over, and locally on the street by his girlfriend.

Sneeze Content —

ALLERGIES

Any smoke that isn’t produced by his body

How severe are they?

Not extremely severe but they do cause near instant fits. These can be dangerous if they are unexpected, as every time he sneezes it produces some kind of flame. Stifles only produce sparks/embers, but full bodied sneezes have almost a flamethrower effect.

Do they get sick often?

He does have a crappy immune system, although no where near Remington’s. He can even sometimes deflect Remi’s germs due to his extreme body temperature.

How bad is it usually?

Part of his must have items for whenever sick is a fire extinguisher, as fires tend to happen frequently when Rexar is sick. He tends to get seemly deathly ill for only a day or two, but his body naturally sweats it out. If he is sick and his nose is too stuffy for any smoke to exit, it will divert to his mouth, with a small fraction leaking from his eyes, making them constantly water.

Do they stifle?

If out in public or otherwise somewhere flames wouldn’t be appreciated, he’ll stifle, as to only have to worry about any embers that may fall afterward.

How loud are their sneezes?

Not very loud. He tends to naturally quiet them due to the huge flames that decimate everything in front of him.

What do they sneeze into?

His hands usually, as they are by nature, flame retardant, although sometimes an unusually large sneeze or a longer than usual fit can result in some burns.

How often do they sneeze?

Isn’t usually a frequent sneezer, as the smoke that constantly flows from his nostrils seems to almost numb his sinuses.

How many times do they sneeze in a fit?

3 is almost always guaranteed. If he stops at 2, you know there’s a 3rd coming sometime soon after.

Do they have build-ups or are they sudden?

Both. Sometimes he’ll have warning with a short buildup, other times he’s caught completely off guard with no chance to stifle them.

Do they sneeze in public?

Not if they can help it, although some are bound to slip sometimes. He will automatically try to stifle them, however.

Some examples of their sneezes?

etCHXIEW!!

heT’CHXOO!!

H'uSSHhhiew!

et’tCHOO!!

Backstory —

(coming soon..)

Reference Sheet —

#snz ocs #sneeze oc #geezieoc #geezieart #get to know my oc #oc biography #oc bio #ocs #oc ref sheet #oc reference #Rexar Fang #snz fet #snezblr #snzblr #snz #snz kink #sneeze kink #snzfucker #snz things #snz blog #oc stuff #oc rp #my oc art #a shifter’s tale #my ocs #oc #my ocs do not steal #oc roleplay #original character #sneezing

[jeeplethicar]

"A pyromancer's flame is a part of his own body. The flame develops right along with his skill.… Sorry. You're a pyromancer yourself. You already know this." -Laurentius of the Great Swamp

Lordran was never the same after that pyromancer showed up

I’ve always played pyromancers (mostly strength focused) ever since I picked up ds1 when I was younger and I still play them now here and again. The tattered cloth armor is my favorite and I’ve used it on so many characters

#ds3 #dark souls #dark souls edit #dark souls 3 #ds3 edit #darkeater midir #soul of cinder #nameless king

[istumpysk]

Operation Stumpy Re-Read

A STORM OF SWORDS

Summary & Foreshadowing Smorgasbord (Part II)

You can ignore this post, or you can open it and find out how Daenerys dies.

It is up to you to make the right decision.

ASOS Part II: UNDER THE CUT

Dark Daenerys Highlights & Laughs

Let's Dance: Stark vs. Targ

Showdown at the Trident

A Rat in a Maze 🐀🔪

The Usurper's Knife

Bran the Dragonslayer?

Storm x Storm 🦑🖤🐉

ASOS Part I: CLICK

Sansa Stark, Queen in the North

Jon Snow, King in the North

Jon (Aemon?) Snow

Jon the Builder & His Gift

Ahoy Matey! Arya Stark Sails the Ocean Blue

Bran the Broken, King of Westeros

High Septon Rickon?

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

Tyrion Lannister, (Prisoner?) Hand of the King

In Remembrance: A Look Back at Sandor Clegane's & Ygritte's Greatest Moments

ASOS Part III: CLICK

JONSA 🐺❤️❄️

ASOS Part IV: CLICK

Chapter Transitions

Previous books:

AGOT Summary & Foreshadowing: CLICK

ACOK Summary & Foreshadowing: PART I & PART II

Stumpy note:

If I didn't to 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 that participated in the reread project. All of you have great observations and comments, I wish I could highlight them all. 🙂

DARK DAENERYS HIGHLIGHTS & LAUGHS

Davos recalls the time King's Landing burned, and gives us some fun language in the process.

And then some vast beast had let out a roar, and green flames were all around them: wildfire, pyromancer's piss, the jade demon. 

[...]

The sight of it seemed to stop his heart for a moment, and he could still remember the sound of it, the crackle of flames, the hiss of steam, the shrieks of dying men, and the beat of that terrible heat against his face as the current swept him down toward hell.

[...]

In his dreams the river was still aflame and demons danced upon the waters with fiery whips in their hands, while men blackened and burned beneath the lash. - Davos I, ASOS

+.+.+

The gargoyles ripped apart, and the Targaryen fleet crumbled when Daenerys Stormborn entered the world.

No squall could frighten Dany, though. Daenerys Stormborn, she was called, for she had come howling into the world on distant Dragonstone as the greatest storm in the memory of Westeros howled outside, a storm so fierce that it ripped gargoyles from the castle walls and smashed her father's fleet to kindling. - Daenerys I, ASOS

+.+.+

A choice she'll always make.

Captain Groleo was an old Pentoshi like his master, Illyrio Mopatis, and he had been nervous as a maiden about carrying three dragons on his ship. Half a hundred buckets of seawater still hung from the gunwales, in case of fires. At first Groleo had wanted the dragons caged and Dany had consented to put his fears at ease, but their misery was so palpable that she soon changed her mind and insisted they be freed. - Daenerys I, ASOS

+.+.+

And never full.

He was always hungry, her Drogon. - Daenerys I, ASOS

x

Off in the distance, a wolf howled. The sound made her feel sad and lonely, but no less hungry. - Daenerys X, ADWD

+.+.+

Balerion was useless in calm.

But the great cog Balerion was a song of a different key; a ponderous broad-beamed sow of a ship with immense holds and huge sails, but helpless in a calm. - Daenerys I, ASOS

+.+.+

The jokes are writing themselves.

"I cannot see Drogon," said Ser Jorah Mormont as he joined her on the forecastle. "Is he lost again?"

"We are the ones who are lost, ser. - Daenerys I, ASOS

+.+.+

I'll take Things You'd Never Hear Bran Say, for $500.

"He could be very harsh to those he thought his enemies."

"A wise man never makes an enemy of a king," said Dany. - Daenerys I, ASOS

+.+.+

Daenerys, the Third of Her Name.

Whitebeard bowed his head. "It is not my place to question the words of Prince Viserys."

"King," Dany corrected. "He was a king, though he never reigned. Viserys, the Third of His Name. But what do you mean?" - Daenerys I, ASOS

+.+.+

The third-born aunt better hope the real heir isn't out there somewhere.

She tried to imagine what it would feel like, when she first caught sight of the land she was born to rule. - Daenerys I, ASOS

+.+.+

A brother tries to steal a prize from Drogon's jaws.

As his sharp black teeth snapped shut around it, Rhaegal's head darted close, as if to steal the prize from his brother's jaws, but Drogon swallowed and screamed, and the smaller green dragon could only hiss in frustration. - Daenerys I, ASOS

+.+.+

Other & dragon parallels that make us laugh: "Oh" edition.

The wights had been slow clumsy things, but the Other was light as snow on the wind. It slid away from Paul's axe, armor rippling, and its crystal sword twisted and spun and slipped between the iron rings of Paul's mail, through leather and wool and bone and flesh. It came out his back with a hissssssssssss and Sam heard Paul say, "Oh," as he lost the axe. - Samwell I, ASOS

x

When he raised his whip, he saw that the lash was burning. His hand as well. All of him, all of him was burning.

Oh, he thought. Then he began to scream. - The Dragontamer, ADWD

+.+.+

Other & dragon parallels that make us laugh: smoking blood edition.

When he opened his eyes the Other's armor was running down its legs in rivulets as pale blue blood hissed and steamed around the black dragonglass dagger in its throat. It reached down with two bone-white hands to pull out the knife, but where its fingers touched the obsidian they smoked. - Samwell I, ASOS

x

The dragon gave one last hiss and stretched out flat upon his belly. Black blood was flowing from the wound where the spear had pierced him, smoking where it dripped onto the scorched sands. He is fire made flesh, she thought, and so am I. - Daenerys IX, ADWD

+.+.+

Thunder is crashing and booming, and a kingdom is falling.

Outside the thunder crashed and boomed, so loud it sounded as if the castle were coming down about their ears. Is this the sound of a kingdom falling? Catelyn wondered. - Catelyn III, ASOS

x

Finally the crone opened her eye and lifted her arms. "I have seen his face, and heard the thunder of his hooves," she proclaimed in a thin, wavery voice. - Daenerys V, AGOT

x

He flapped them once as he swept back above the sands, and the sound was like a clap of thunder. - Daenerys IX, ADWD

+.+.+

Azor Ahai reborn.

Thank you, @agentrouka-blog!

She talks of prophecies . . . a hero reborn in the sea, living dragons hatched from dead stone . . . she speaks of signs and swears they point to me. - Davos V, ASOS

x

"The frightened child who sheltered in my manse died on the Dothraki sea, and was reborn in blood and fire. This dragon queen who wears her name is a true Targaryen. - Tyrion II, ADWD

x

Stone, she told herself. They are only stone, even Illyrio said so, the dragons are all dead. - Daenerys III, AGOT

x

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

x

Dany looked and saw it, low in the east. The first star was a comet, burning red. Bloodred; fire red; the dragon's tail. She could not have asked for a stronger sign. - Daenerys X, AGOT

x

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

x

"Burnt," said Salladhor Saan, "and be glad of that, my friend. Do you know the tale of the forging of Lightbringer? 

[...]

It is said that her cry of anguish and ecstasy left a crack across the face of the moon, but her blood and her soul and her strength and her courage all went into the steel. 

[...]

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

x

"He told me the moon was an egg, Khaleesi," the Lysene girl said. "Once there were two moons in the sky, but one wandered too close to the sun and cracked from the heat. A thousand thousand dragons poured forth, and drank the fire of the sun. - Daenerys III, AGOT

x

"I wish I had a flaming sword." Arya could think of lots of people she'd like to set on fire. - Arya IV, ASOS

x

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

+.+.+

A warning or a prophecy? Despite George R. R. Martin's best efforts, the readers of the book still don't get it.

"An ant who hears the words of a king may not comprehend what he is saying," Melisandre said, "and all men are ants before the fiery face of god. If sometimes I have mistaken a warning for a prophecy or a prophecy for a warning, the fault lies in the reader, not the book. But this I know for a certainty—envoys and pardons will not serve you now, no more than leeches. You must show the realm a sign. A sign that proves your power!" - Davos V, ASOS

+.+.+

Fire consumes her.

Thank you, @agentrouka-blog!

"I know the cost! Last night, gazing into that hearth, I saw things in the flames as well. I saw a king, a crown of fire on his brows, burning . . . burning, Davos. His own crown consumed his flesh and turned him into ash. Do you think I need Melisandre to tell me what that means? Or you?" - Davos V, ASOS

x

"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, ASOS

x

"Did you know that my brother set the Blackwater Rush afire? Wildfire will burn on water. Aerys would have bathed in it if he'd dared. The Targaryens were all mad for fire." - Jaime V, ASOS

x

That hair she had. Well, the hottest fires burn out quickest. - Jon X, ASOS

x

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

+.+.+

Harpy or Daenerys? Old Ghis or House Targaryen?

In the center of the Plaza of Pride stood a red brick fountain whose waters smelled of brimstone, and in the center of the fountain a monstrous harpy made of hammered bronze. Twenty feet tall she reared. She had a woman's face, with gilded hair, ivory eyes, and pointed ivory teeth. Water gushed yellow from her heavy breasts. But in place of arms she had the wings of a bat or a dragon, her legs were the legs of an eagle, and behind she wore a scorpion's curled and venomous tail.

The harpy of Ghis, Dany thought. Old Ghis had fallen five thousand years ago, if she remembered true; its legions shattered by the might of young Valyria, its brick walls pulled down, its streets and buildings turned to ash and cinder by dragonflame, its very fields sown with salt, sulfur, and skulls. The gods of Ghis were dead, and so too its people.

Yet the symbol of the Old Empire still endured here, though this bronze monster had a heavy chain dangling from her talons, an open manacle at either end. The harpy of Ghis had a thunderbolt in her claws. This is the harpy of Astapor.

[...]

Kraznys mo Nakloz bobbed his head. He smelled as if he'd bathed in raspberries, this slaver, and his jutting red-black beard glistened with oil. - Daenerys II, ASOS

x

"An old rhyme a maester taught me, when I was a boy. I never knew how true it was. The bricks of Astapor are red with the blood of the slaves who make them." - Daenerys II, ASOS

x

And above it all, frowning down from Aegon's high hill, was the Red Keep; seven huge drum-towers crowned with iron ramparts, an immense grim barbican, vaulted halls and covered bridges, barracks and dungeons and granaries, massive curtain walls studded with archers' nests, all fashioned of pale red stone. Aegon the Conqueror had commanded it built. His son Maegor the Cruel had seen it completed. Afterward he had taken the heads of every stonemason, woodworker, and builder who had labored on it. Only the blood of the dragon would ever know the secrets of the fortress the Dragonlords had built, he vowed. - Catelyn IV, ASOS

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Missandei, the best slave.

No older than ten, she had the round flat face, dusky skin, and golden eyes of Naath. The Peaceful People, her folk were called. All agreed that they made the best slaves. - Daenerys II, ASOS

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I don't know, maybe we shouldn't use this army.

"They are chosen young, for size and speed and strength," the slave told her. "They begin their training at five. Every day they train from dawn to dusk, until they have mastered the shortsword, the shield, and the three spears. The training is most rigorous, Your Grace. Only one boy in three survives it. This is well known. Among the Unsullied it is said that on the day they win their spiked cap, the worst is done with, for no duty that will ever fall to them could be as hard as their training."

[...]

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

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Viserys returns to the story.

Kraznys waited for that to be rendered in the Common Tongue, and then continued. "This beggar queen must understand, such wonders do not come cheaply. - Daenerys II, ASOS

x

"Only lies offend me, never honest counsel." Dany patted Arstan's spotted hand to reassure him. "I have a dragon's temper, that's all. You must not let it frighten you." - Daenerys II, ASOS

x

She had not meant to be so sharp with Ser Jorah, but his endless suspicion had finally woken her dragon. - Daenerys IV, ASOS

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Daenerys gets into bed with the wrong man.

Thank you, @sherlokiness!

Sometimes she would close her eyes and dream of him, but it was never Jorah Mormont she dreamed of; her lover was always younger and more comely, though his face remained a shifting shadow. - Daenerys II, ASOS

x

"A shadow on the wall," Varys murmured, "yet shadows can kill. And ofttimes a very small man can cast a very large shadow." - Tyrion II, ACOK

x

His bruises had mostly faded by now, and the swelling in his face had largely subsided, so Mormont looked almost human once again … though only vaguely like himself. The demon's mask the slavers had burned into his right cheek to mark him for a dangerous and disobedient slave would never leave him. Ser Jorah had never been what one might call a comely man. The brand had transformed his face into something frightening.

Tyrion grinned. "As long as I look prettier than you, I will be happy." - Tyrion XII, ADWD

x

Beneath her coverlets she tossed and turned, dreaming that Hizdahr was kissing her … but his lips were blue and bruised, and when he thrust himself inside her, his manhood was cold as ice. - Daenerys VII, ADWD

x

It was Lemore who forced the water from your lungs after Griff had pulled you up. You were as cold as ice, and your lips were blue. - Tyrion VI, ADWD

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The grip is too tight.

Drogon raised his head and screamed, pale smoke venting from his nostrils, and Viserion flapped at her and tried to perch on her shoulder, as he had when he was smaller. "No," Dany said, trying to shrug him off gently. "You're too big for that now, sweetling." But the dragon coiled his white and gold tail around one arm and dug black claws into the fabric of her sleeve, clinging tightly. Helpless, she sank into Groleo's great leather chair, giggling. - Daenerys II, ASOS

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Joffrey, Ramsay, Weese. Dogs have a habit of turning on their masters in this story.

Thank you, @agentrouka-blog!

"A word from me and these sheep would spill his stinking old bowels on the bricks," he said, "but do not say that. Tell them that these creatures are more dogs than sheep. Do they eat dogs or horse in these Seven Kingdoms?" - Daenerys II, ASOS

[...]

"The Good Master has said that these eunuchs cannot be tempted with coin or flesh," Dany told the girl, "but if some enemy of mine should offer them freedom for betraying me . . ." - Daenerys II, ASOS

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George slips something in.

"I saw King's Landing after the Sack. Babes were butchered that day as well, and old men, and children at play. More women were raped than you can count. There is a savage beast in every man, and when you hand that man a sword or spear and send him forth to war, the beast stirs. The scent of blood is all it takes to wake him. Yet I have never heard of these Unsullied raping, nor putting a city to the sword, nor even plundering, save at the express command of those who lead them. - Daenerys II, ASOS

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Never intending to part with a dragon, Daenerys is willing to pay the price of death and destruction.

Two thousand would never serve for what she meant to do. I must have them all. Dany knew what she must do now, though the taste of it was so bitter that even the persimmon wine could not cleanse it from her month. She had considered long and hard and found no other way. It is my only choice. 

[...]

Dany let them argue, sipping the tart persimmon wine and trying to keep her face blank and ignorant. I will have them all, no matter the price, she told herself. - Daenerys III, ASOS

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Does history repeat itself in this story?

"Yet even queens can err. The Astapori have cheated you, Your Grace. A dragon is worth more than any army. Aegon proved that three hundred years ago, upon the Field of Fire."

"I know what Aegon proved. I mean to prove a few things of my own." - Daenerys III, ASOS

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Some choose to learn from their mistakes, while others . . .

If I look back I am lost, Dany told herself the next morning as she entered Astapor through the harbor gates. - Daenerys III, ASOS

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Dragonbone whip, with a woman's head.

Dany handed the slaver the end of Drogon's chain. In return he presented her with the whip. The handle was black dragonbone, elaborately carved and inlaid with gold. Nine long thin leather lashes trailed from it, each one tipped by a gilded claw. The gold pommel was a woman's head, with pointed ivory teeth. "The harpy's fingers," Kraznys named the scourge. - Daenerys III, ASOS

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You are mine.

"IT IS DONE!" she cried at the top of her lungs. "YOU ARE MINE!" She gave the mare her heels and galloped along the first rank, holding the fingers high. "YOU ARE THE DRAGON'S NOW! YOU'RE BOUGHT AND PAID FOR! IT IS DONE! IT IS DONE!" - Daenerys III, ASOS

x

And after them came her handmaids, and then the others, all the Dothraki, men and women and children, and Dany had only to look at their eyes to know that they were hers now, today and tomorrow and forever, hers as they had never been Drogo's. - Daenerys X, AGOT

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Kraznys or Viserys? She did not pause to contemplate the ruin, and never will.

Thank you, @decadelongsummer!

Dany swept the lash down as hard as she could across the slaver's face. Kraznys screamed and staggered back, the blood running red down his cheeks into his perfumed beard. The harpy's fingers had torn his features half to pieces with one slash, but she did not pause to contemplate the ruin. "Drogon," she sang out loudly, sweetly, all her fear forgotten. "Dracarys."

[...]

A lance of swirling dark flame took Kraznys full in the face. His eyes melted and ran down his cheeks, and the oil in his hair and beard burst so fiercely into fire that for an instant the slaver wore a burning crown twice as tall as his head. The sudden stench of charred meat overwhelmed even his perfume, and his wail seemed to drown all other sound. - Daenerys III, ASOS

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Children.

"Unsullied!" Dany galloped before them, her silver-gold braid flying behind her, her bell chiming with every stride. "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." She raised the harpy's fingers in the air . . . and then she flung the scourge aside. "Freedom!" she sang out. "Dracarys! Dracarys!" - Daenerys III, ASOS

x

"The blood of children?" Robb pointed at the corpses. "How old were they? Twelve, thirteen? Squires." - Catelyn III, ASOS

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Daenerys forgets who holds whips.

Slay the Good Masters, slay the soldiers, slay every man who wears a tokar or holds a whip - Daenerys III, ASOS

x

One man kept his saddle long enough to draw a sword, but Jhogo's whip coiled about his neck and cut off his shout. - Daenerys III, ASOS

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Sobbing, begging, and dying while Daenerys sings her favourite song.

"Freedom!" she sang out. "Dracarys! Dracarys!"

"Dracarys!" they shouted back, the sweetest word she'd ever heard. "Dracarys! Dracarys!" And all around them slavers ran and sobbed and begged and died, and the dusty air was filled with spears and fire. - Daenerys III, ASOS

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Lem Lemoncloak and Arya don't approve of the Mad Huntman's brand of justice.

A few feet away, a dozen iron cages hung from creaking wooden posts. Crow cages, Arya knew. The crows were mostly outside the cages, splashing in the water or perched atop the bars; inside were men. Lem reined up scowling. "What's this, now?"

"Justice," answered a woman at the fountain. - Arya V, ASOS

x

She had them nailed to wooden posts around the plaza, each man pointing at the next. The anger was fierce and hot inside her when she gave the command; it made her feel like an avenging dragon. But later, when she passed the men dying on the posts, when she heard their moans and smelled their bowels and blood . . .

Dany put the glass aside, frowning. It was just. It was. I did it for the children.

[...]

Dany remembered the horror she had felt when she had seen the Plaza of Punishment in Astapor. I made a horror just as great, but surely they deserved it. Harsh justice is still justice. - Daenerys VI, ASOS

+.+.+

Other & dragon parallels that make us laugh: visions of fire paired with visions of ice edition.

"With mine own eyes. After the battle, when I was lost to despair, the Lady Melisandre bid me gaze into the hearthfire. The chimney was drawing strongly, and bits of ash were rising from the fire. I stared at them, feeling half a fool, but she bid me look deeper, and . . . the ashes were white, rising in the updraft, yet all at once it seemed as if they were falling. Snow, I thought. Then the sparks in the air seemed to circle, to become a ring of torches, and I was looking through the fire down on some high hill in a forest. The cinders had become men in black behind the torches, and there were shapes moving through the snow. For all the heat of the fire, I felt a cold so terrible I shivered, and when I did the sight was gone, the fire but a fire once again. But what I saw was real, I'd stake my kingdom on it." - Davos IV, ASOS

+.+.+

If at first you don't succeed, add more wildfire and call Daenerys.

"I heard tell you almost burned the city down."

"A filthy lie. I only burned the river." - Tyrion XI, ASOS

x

So His Grace commanded his alchemists to place caches of wildfire all over King's Landing. Beneath Baelor's Sept and the hovels of Flea Bottom, under stables and storehouses, at all seven gates, even in the cellars of the Red Keep itself. - Jaime V, ASOS

x

We have sealed them with wax and pumped the lower vault full of water, but even so . . . by rights they ought to have been destroyed, but so many of our masters were murdered during the Sack of King's Landing, the few acolytes who remained were unequal to the task. And much of the stock we made for Aerys was lost. Only last year, two hundred jars were discovered in a storeroom beneath the Great Sept of Baelor. - Tyrion V, ACOK

+.+.+

What is happening to the other slaves?

"If battle is joined, let Grey Worm show wisdom as well as valor," Dany told him. "Spare any slave who runs or throws down his weapon. The fewer slain, the more remain to join us after." - Daenerys IV, ASOS

x

"Very well," Dany said. "Sellsword or slave, spare all those who will pledge me their faith. If enough of the Second Sons will join us, keep the company intact." - Daenerys IV, ASOS

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Like locusts in sandals.

The raggle-taggle host of freedmen dwarfed her own, but they were more burden than benefit. Perhaps one in a hundred had a donkey, a camel, or an ox; most carried weapons looted from some slaver's armory, but only one in ten was strong enough to fight, and none was trained. They ate the land bare as they passed, like locusts in sandals. Yet Dany could not bring herself to abandon them as Ser Jorah and her bloodriders urged. I told them they were free. I cannot tell them now they are not free to join me. She gazed at the smoke rising from their cookfires and swallowed a sigh. She might have the best footsoldiers in the world, but she also had the worst. - Daenerys IV, ASOS

+.+.+

Mad.

"I say, you are mad."

"Am I?" Dany shrugged, and said, "Dracarys." - Daenerys IV, ASOS

+.+.+

That's not how you parley, Stannis.

"To mount our attack."

Ser Jorah Mormont scowled. "You told the sellswords—"

"—that I wanted their answers on the morrow. I made no promises about tonight. The Stormcrows will be arguing about my offer. The Second Sons will be drunk on the wine I gave Mero. And the Yunkai'i believe they have three days. We will take them under cover of this darkness." - Daenerys IV, ASOS

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Like a whip.

Drogon looped his neck around to nip at her hand. His teeth were very sharp, but he never broke her skin when they played like this. Dany laughed, and rolled him back and forth until he roared, his tail lashing like a whip. - Daenerys IV, ASOS

+.+.+

Try Not to Think of Randyll Tarly Challenge.

Thank you, @aegor-bamfsteel!

This place was put to the torch a long time ago."

"Who did it, then?" asked Gendry.

"Hoster Tully." Notch was a stooped thin grey-haired man, born in these parts. "This was Lord Goodbrook's village. When Riverrun declared for Robert, Goodbrook stayed loyal to the king, so Lord Tully came down on him with fire and sword. After the Trident, Goodbrook's son made his peace with Robert and Lord Hoster, but that didn't help the dead none." - Arya VIII, ASOS

x

"When he did," Davos repeated. "They were his men. His sworn men. What choice were they given?"

"Every man has choices. They might have refused to kneel. Some did, and died for it. Yet they died true men, and loyal." - Davos IV, ASOS

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The now extinct, once powerful family, that held Harrenhal, and had a great black bat as their sigil.

He found an old shield in the armory, battered and splintered, the chipped paint still showing most of the great black bat of House Lothston upon a field of silver and gold. The Lothstons held Harrenhal before the Whents and had been a powerful family in their day, but they had died out ages ago, so no one was likely to object to him bearing their arms. He would be no one's cousin, no one's enemy, no one's sworn sword . . . in sum, no one. - Jaime VI, ASOS

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Other & dragon parallels that make us laugh: breathing fire edition.

The wight was burning, hoarfrost dripping from his beard as the flesh beneath blackened. Sam heard the raven shriek, but Paul himself made no sound. When his mouth opened, only flames came out. - Samwell III, ASOS

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More fun with language during the Red Wedding (Arya XI, ASOS).

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A hero wouldn't kill a child.

And Robert's relief was palpable. As stupid as he was, even he knew that Rhaegar's children had to die if his throne was ever to be secure. Yet he saw himself as a hero, and heroes do not kill children." His father shrugged. - Tyrion VI, ASOS

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The stallion or the horns of a dragon?

Thank you, @a-maid-with-sunset-in-her-hair!

Jon sat between two merlons with only a scarecrow for company and watched the Stallion gallop up the sky. Or was it the Horned Lord? - Jon VII, ASOS

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Her captain forgets to play along.

There will be more if we remain. The slaves are weak from the march."

"Freedmen," Dany corrected. "They are slaves no longer." - Daenerys V, ASOS

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No subtext required.

"If I let Meereen's old brick walls defeat me so easily, though, how will I ever take the great stone castles of Westeros?"

"As Aegon did," Ser Jorah said, "with fire. By the time we reach the Seven Kingdoms, your dragons will be grown. - Daenerys V, ASOS

x

"If you were grown," she told Drogon, scratching him between the horns, "I'd fly you over the walls and melt that harpy down to slag." - Daenerys V, ASOS

+.+.+

Freudian slip.

Thank you, @agentrouka-blog!

High on the walls of Meereen, the jeers had grown louder, and now hundreds of the defenders were taking their lead from the hero and pissing down through the ramparts to show their contempt for the besiegers. They are pissing on slaves, to show how little they fear us, she thought. They would never dare such a thing if it were a Dothraki khalasar outside their gates. - Daenerys V, ASOS

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We require a man and a woman.

Collio began with his version of "The Dance of the Dragons," which was more properly a song for two singers, male and female. - Tyrion VIII, ASOS

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More fun with language during the battle at the Wall (Jon VIII, ASOS).

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Other & dragon parallels that make us laugh: the mouth of a dragon edition.

The ice pressed close around them, and he could feel the cold seeping into his bones, the weight of the Wall above his head. It felt like walking down the gullet of an ice dragon. - Jon VIII, ASOS

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A god.

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

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Unpleasant rape metaphors, during the sacking of a city.

Thank you, @agentrouka-blog!

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. Poor Groleo. He still grieved for his ship, she knew. If a war galley could ram another ship, why not a gate? That had been her thought when she commanded the captains to drive their ships ashore. Their masts had become her battering rams, and swarms of freedmen had torn their hulls apart to build mantlets, turtles, catapults, and ladders. The sellswords had given each ram a bawdy name, and it had been the mainmast of Meraxes—formerly Joso's Prank—that had broken the eastern gate. Joso's Cock, they called it. The fighting had raged bitter and bloody for most of a day and well into the night before the wood began to splinter and Meraxes' iron figurehead, a laughing jester's face, came crashing through. - Daenerys VI, ASOS

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Her sewer rats.

Her dragons had roared as one in that moment, filling the night with flame. The slaves are rising, she knew at once. My sewer rats have gnawed off their chains. - Daenerys VI, ASOS

+.+.+

I'll take Things You'd Never See Bran Order, for $500.

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

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Sly shade from the author.

I have given Astapor a butcher king. Dany felt ill, but she knew she must not let the envoy see it. "I will pray that King Cleon rules well and wisely. What would he have of me?" - Daenerys VI, ASOS

x

"You see that at the end of the ['Lord of the Rings'] books, when Sauron has been defeated and Aragorn is king," Martin told the Advance. "It's easy to type, 'he ruled wisely and well,' but what does that constitute?" - George R. R. Martin

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If I look back I am lost.

All my victories turn to dross in my hands, she thought. Whatever I do, all I make is death and horror. - Daenerys VI, ASOS

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Right over her head.

"If blood is what you wish, let it flow. I am told you have freed your eunuchs. Freedom means as much to an Unsullied as a hat to a haddock." He smiled at Grey Worm, but the eunuch might have been made of stone. - Daenerys IV, ASOS

x

"My queen?" Daario stepped forward. "The riverside is full of Meereenese, begging leave to be allowed to sell themselves to this Qartheen. They are thicker than the flies."

Dany was shocked. "They want to be slaves?" - Daenerys VI, ASOS

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A principled stance.

"I see." Perhaps it was not so shocking, if these tales of Astapor were true. Dany thought a moment. "Any man who wishes to sell himself into slavery may do so. Or woman." She raised a hand. "But they may not sell their children, nor a man his wife."

"In Astapor the city took a tenth part of the price, each time a slave changed hands," Missandei told her.

"We'll do the same," Dany decided. Wars were won with gold as much as swords. "A tenth part. In gold or silver coin, or ivory. Meereen has no need of saffron, cloves, or zorse hides." - Daenerys VI, ASOS

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There's maggots, flies, and death in her stomach.

Yet the thought of seeing Jorah Mormont again made her feel as if she'd swallowed a spoonful of flies; angry, agitated, sick. She could almost feel them buzzing round her belly.

[...]

"Flies are the dead man's revenge." Daario smiled, and stroked the center prong of his beard. "Corpses breed maggots, and maggots breed flies." - Daenerys VI, ASOS

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The Mad King's blood.

"Some truths are hard to hear. Robert was a . . . a good knight . . . chivalrous, brave . . . he spared my life, and the lives of many others . . . Prince Viserys was only a boy, it would have been years before he was fit to rule, and . . . forgive me, my queen, but you asked for truth . . . even as a child, your brother Viserys oft seemed to be his father's son, in ways that Rhaegar never did."

[...]

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

x

Your father always had a little madness in him, I now believe. Yet he was charming and generous as well, so his lapses were forgiven. His reign began with such promise . . . but as the years passed, the lapses grew more frequent, until . . ." - Daenerys VI, ASOS

x

He thought for a moment of the boy Viserys, fled to Dragonstone, and of Rhaegar's infant son Aegon, still in Maegor's with his mother. A new Targaryen king, and my father as Hand. How the wolves will howl, and the storm lord choke with rage. For a moment he was tempted, until he glanced down again at the body on the floor, in its spreading pool of blood. His blood is in both of them, he thought. - Jaime II, ASOS

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I'm not worried about Jon or Aegon, are you?

"I am no maester to quote history at you, Your Grace. Swords have been my life, not books. But every child knows that the Targaryens have always danced too close to madness. Your father was not the first. King Jaehaerys once told me that madness and greatness are two sides of the same coin. Every time a new Targaryen is born, he said, the gods toss the coin in the air and the world holds its breath to see how it will land." - Daenerys VI, ASOS

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Avoiding the history.

The fat leather-bound volume was full of songs and stories from the Seven Kingdoms. Children's stories, if truth be told; too simple and fanciful to be true history. 

[...]

"Viserys was a child, and the queen sheltered him as much as she could. Your father always had a little madness in him, I now believe. Yet he was charming and generous as well, so his lapses were forgiven. His reign began with such promise . . . but as the years passed, the lapses grew more frequent, until . . ."

Dany stopped him. "Do I want to hear this now?" - Daenerys VI, ASOS

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A change of heart regarding bed slaves.

Later, when the time came for sleep, Dany took Irri into bed with her, for the first time since the ship. But even as she shuddered in release and wound her fingers through her handmaid's thick black hair, she pretended it was Drogo holding her . . . only somehow his face kept turning into Daario's. 

[...]

Irri slept soundly beside her, her lips slightly parted, one dark brown nipple peeping out above the sleeping silks. For a moment Dany was tempted, but it was Drogo she wanted, or perhaps Daario. Not Irri. The maid was sweet and skillful, but all her kisses tasted of duty. - Daenerys VI, ASOS

x

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 . . ."

"I am handmaid to the Mother of Dragons," the girl said. "It is great honor to please my khaleesi."

"I don't want that," she insisted. "I don't." - Daenerys II, ASOS

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In the middle of Jorah betrayal talk, Daario takes a moment to caress two women + the funniest bouquet you'll ever see.

"The queen has a good heart," Daario purred through his deep purple whiskers, "but that one is more dangerous than all the Oznaks and Meros rolled up in one." His strong hands caressed the hilts of his matched blades, those wanton golden women. - Daenerys VI, ASOS

x

On the road from Yunkai, Daario had brought her a flower or a sprig of some plant every evening when he made his report . . . to help her learn the land, he said. Waspwillow, dusky roses, wild mint, lady's lace, daggerleaf, broom, prickly ben, harpy's gold . . . - Daenerys V, ASOS

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Little Missandei keeps interrupting.

Thank you, @sherlokiness!

She was Daenerys Stormborn, the Unburnt, khaleesi and queen, Mother of Dragons, slayer of warlocks, breaker of chains, and there was no one in the world that she could trust.

"Your Grace?" Missandei stood at her elbow wrapped in a bedrobe, wooden sandals on her feet. "I woke, and saw that you were gone. Did you sleep well? What are you looking at?" - Daenerys VI, ASOS

x

"I remember the Undying. Child of three, they called me. Three mounts they promised me, three fires, and three treasons. One for blood and one for gold and one for …"

"Your Grace?" Missandei stood in the door of the queen's bedchamber, a lantern in her hand. "Who are you talking to?" - Daenerys II, ADWD

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LET'S DANCE: STARK vs. TARG

The smell of death.

There was a smell of death about that room; a heavy smell, sweet and foul, clinging. - Catelyn I, ASOS

x

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

x

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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Nymeria hunts down a Dothraki, and paints the world black and red.

Thank you, @dontbipanicjonsa!

Her dreams were red and savage. The Mummers were in them, four at least, a pale Lyseni and a dark brutal axeman from Ib, the scarred Dothraki horse lord called Iggo and a Dornishman whose name she never knew. 

[...]

They thought they were hunting her, she knew with all the strange sharp certainty of dreams, but they were wrong. She was hunting them.

[...]

Only the belled man stood his ground. His horse kicked in the head of one of her sisters, and he cut another almost in half with his curved silvery claw as his hair tinkled softly.

Filled with rage, she leapt onto his back, knocking him head-first from his saddle. Her jaws locked on his arm as they fell, her teeth sinking through the leather and wool and soft flesh. When they landed she gave a savage jerk with her head and ripped the limb loose from his shoulder. Exulting, she shook it back and forth in her mouth, scattering the warm red droplets amidst the cold black rain. - Arya I, ASOS

+.+.+

Daenerys believes Rhaegal is trying to steal the prize from Drogon.

Drogon moved quicker than a striking cobra. Flame roared from his mouth, orange and scarlet and black, searing the meat before it began to fall. As his sharp black teeth snapped shut around it, Rhaegal's head darted close, as if to steal the prize from his brother's jaws, but Drogon swallowed and screamed, and the smaller green dragon could only hiss in frustration. - Daenerys I, ASOS

+.+.+

Clever men hatch ambitious schemes.

Thank you, @decadelongsummer!

Ser Jorah snorted. "That wineseller who tried to poison you was a clever man as well. Clever men hatch ambitious schemes." - Daenerys I, ASOS

x

"Maester Aemon thinks you clever." Mormont moved the raven to his shoulder. - Jon IV, ACOK

+.+.+

Mance or the Conqueror?

Three hundred men could not hope to kill a hundred times their number, of course, but Jon did not think they would need to. He need not slay a thousand, only one. Mance is all that keeps them together. - Jon II, ASOS

+.+.+

A Targaryen stain.

When he touched it his black gloves came away stained with red. - Jon II, ASOS

+.+.+

Snow snuffed the fire out.

Yesterday he begged for them to let him be one of the torchbearers, even if it meant walking outside of the column with the darkness pressing close. He wanted the fire, dreamed of the fire. If I had the fire, I would not be cold. But someone reminded him that he'd had a torch at the start, but he'd dropped it in the snow and snuffed the fire out. - Samwell I, ASOS

+.+.+

Arya the Kingslayer?

"No," the old man said. "Northmen, they were. Savages who worship trees. They wanted the Kingslayer, they said."

Arya heard him, and chewed her lip. She could feel Gendry looking at her. - Arya IV, ASOS

+.+.+

A Faceless Man kills a king.

I dreamt of a man without a face, waiting on a bridge that swayed and swung. On his shoulder perched a drowned crow with seaweed hanging from his wings. - Arya IV, ASOS

+.+.+

Words that keep haunting Daenerys.

"Valar morghulis," said Missandei, in High Valyrian.

"All men must die," Dany agreed, "but not for a long while, we may pray." - Daenerys III, ASOS

x

"You know nothing, Jon Snow," Ygritte would have told him. I know that I am going to die, he thought. I know that much, at least. "All men die," he could almost hear her say, "and women too, and every beast that flies or swims or runs. It's not the when o' dying that matters, it's the how of it, Jon Snow." - Jon X, ASOS

+.+.+

Garnets lack fire.

As he entered his lord father's solar a few moments later, he heard a voice saying, ". . . cherrywood for the scabbards, bound in red leather and ornamented with a row of lion's-head studs in pure gold. Perhaps with garnets for the eyes . . ."

"Rubies," Lord Tywin said. "Garnets lack the fire." - Tyrion IV, ASOS

x

The pommel was a hunk of pale stone weighted with lead to balance the long blade. It had been carved into the likeness of a snarling wolf's head, with chips of garnet set into the eyes. - Jon VIII, AGOT

x

Ghost was curled up asleep beside the door, but he lifted his head at the sound of Jon's boots. The direwolf's red eyes were darker than garnets and wiser than men. Jon knelt, scratched his ear, and showed him the pommel of the sword. "Look. It's you." - Jon VIII, AGOT

+.+.+

Jon and Daario are hiding their true colours in back-to-back chapters.

"He must die," Styr the Magnar said. "Do it, crow."

The old man said no word. He only looked at Jon, standing amongst the wildlings. Amidst the rain and smoke, lit only by the fire, he could not have seen that Jon was all in black, but for his sheepskin cloak. Or could he? - Jon V, ASOS

x

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

+.+.+

Catelyn slices up a fool in a crown, ornamented with bells, with a Targaryen name. A younger version of the father.

The eighth Lady Frey stood beside Lord Walder's high seat. At his feet sat a somewhat younger version of himself, a stooped thin man of fifty whose costly garb of blue wool and grey satin was strangely accented by a crown and collar ornamented with tiny brass bells. The likeness between him and his lord was striking, save for their eyes; Lord Frey's small, dim, and suspicious, the other's large, amiable, and vacant. Catelyn recalled that one of Lord Walder's brood had fathered a halfwit long years ago. During past visits, the Lord of the Crossing had always taken care to hide this one away. Did he always wear a fool's crown, or is that meant as mockery of Robb? It was a question she dare not ask.

[...]

"Sire," Lord Walder said, "forgive my Aegon the noise. He has less wits than a crannogman, and he's never met a king before. One of Stevron's boys. We call him Jinglebell." - Catelyn VI, ASOS

+.+.+

While mostly sitting on the sidelines, Jon observes a dance.

The dance has moved on, he thought.

[...]

The dance has moved on, and we're watching from the gallery, he thought as he hobbled back. - Jon VII, ASOS

+.+.+

It's fire against ice.

The heat of the fires was making the Wall weep, and the flames danced and shimmered against the ice. - Jon VII, ASOS

+.+.+

Shades of Arya during an assassination attempt.

The old man feinted with one end of the staff, pulled it back, and whipped the other end about faster than Dany would have believed. The Titan's Bastard staggered back into the surf, spitting blood and broken teeth from the ruin of his mouth. Whitebeard put Dany behind him. Mero slashed at his face. The old man jerked back, cat-quick. The staff thumped Mero's ribs, sending him reeling. Arstan splashed sideways, parried a looping cut, danced away from a second, checked a third mid-swing. - Daenerys V, ASOS

+.+.+

Doubtful the queen will have many kind things to say about the Usurper's Dog and his children.

The north. "I . . . my brother Robb was King in the North . . ."

"Your brother was the rightful Lord of Winterfell. If he had stayed home and done his duty, instead of crowning himself and riding off to conquer the riverlands, he might be alive today. Be that as it may. You are not Robb, no more than I am Robert."

The harsh words had blown away whatever sympathy Jon might have had for Stannis. "I loved my brother," he said. - Jon XI, ASOS

+.+.+

Jon is unsettled by the beautiful red lady, who burns men alive, and smells of fire & blood.

Thank you, @magiclovingdragon!

He had glimpsed Melisandre at her nightfires, and coming and going about the castle, but never so close. She's beautiful, he thought . . . but there was something more than a little unsettling about red eyes. "My lady."

[...]

In the close confines of the iron cage, he was acutely aware of the red woman's presence. She even smells red. The scent reminded him of Mikken's forge, of the way iron smelled when red-hot; the scent was smoke and blood. - Jon XI, ASOS

+.+.+

The raiders and slavers from Valyria better hope that never happens.

Thank you, @astraphysical!

Stannis put a thin, fleshless hand on Jon's shoulder. "Say nothing of what we've discussed here today. To anyone. But when you return, you need only bend your knee, lay your sword at my feet, and pledge yourself to my service, and you shall rise again as Jon Stark, the Lord of Winterfell." - Jon XI, ASOS

x

Even before the coming of the Andals, the Wolf's Den had been raised by King Jon Stark, built to defend the mouth of the White Knife against raiders and slavers from across the narrow sea (some scholars suggest these were early Andal incursions, whilst others argue they were the forebears of the men from Ib, or even slavers out of Valyria and Volantis). - TWoIaF

+.+.+

SHOWDOWN AT THE TRIDENT

Jon and Daenerys stand on opposite sides.

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

x

Burning shafts hissed upward, trailing tongues of fire. Scarecrow brothers tumbled down, black cloaks ablaze. "Snow," an eagle cried, as foemen scuttled up the ice like spiders. Jon was armored in black ice, but his blade burned red in his fist. As the dead men reached the top of the Wall he sent them down to die again. He slew a greybeard and a beardless boy, a giant, a gaunt man with filed teeth, a girl with thick red hair. Too late he recognized Ygritte. She was gone as quick as she'd appeared. - Jon XII, ADWD

+.+.+

Julius Caesar crosses the Rubicon. The die is cast.

Thank you, @nusaran and @northernpack!

Dany mounted her silver. She could feel her heart thumping in her chest. She felt desperately afraid. Was this what my brother would have done? She wondered if Prince Rhaegar had been this anxious when he saw the Usurper's host formed up across the Trident with all their banners floating on the wind.

[...]

It is time to cross the Trident, Dany thought, as she wheeled and rode her silver back. - Daenerys III, ASOS

+.+.+

A trip down memory lane that definitely won't be happening again.

"Torrhen had brought his power south after the fall of the two kings on the Field of Fire," said Jaime, "but when he saw Aegon's dragon and the size of his host, he chose the path of wisdom and bent his frozen knees." - Jaime II, ASOS

x

A terrible beauty. Like dragonfire. Tyrion wondered if Aegon the Conqueror had felt like this as he flew above his Field of Fire. - Tyrion XIII, ACOK

x

"Yet even queens can err. The Astapori have cheated you, Your Grace. A dragon is worth more than any army. Aegon proved that three hundred years ago, upon the Field of Fire."

"I know what Aegon proved. I mean to prove a few things of my own." Dany turned away from him - Daenerys III, ASOS

+.+.+

Ned never taught young Robb when to kneel.

-> Jon VIII, AGOT

It would not do to make him feel as if his mother were usurping his place. Did you teach him wisdom as well as valor, Ned? she wondered. Did you teach him how to kneel? The graveyards of the Seven Kingdoms were full of brave men who had never learned that lesson. - Catelyn IX, AGOT

x

Suddenly Catelyn was full of dread. "Wars need not be fought until the last drop of blood." Even she could hear the desperation in her voice. "You would not be the first king to bend the knee, nor even the first Stark."

His mouth tightened. "No. Never."

"There is no shame in it. Balon Greyjoy bent the knee to Robert when his rebellion failed. Torrhen Stark bent the knee to Aegon the Conqueror rather than see his army face the fires." - Catelyn IV, ASOS

+.+.+

Or perhaps someone else?

"Yes," the maester said, "but this battle he cannot win. It is time he lay down his sword and shield. Time to yield."

To yield, she thought, to make a peace. Was it her father the maester was speaking of, or her son? - Catelyn III, ASOS

+.+.+

An older wolf might not have believed himself immortal. (Rest in peace, 5 year gap.)

"Won every battle, while losing the Freys, the Karstarks, Winterfell, and the north. A pity the wolf is so young. Boys of sixteen always believe they are immortal and invincible. An older man would bend the knee, I'd think. After a war there is always a peace, and with peace there are pardons . . . for the Robb Starks, at least. Not for the likes of Vargo Hoat." - Jaime V, ASOS

+.+.+

Davos understands some men don't have a choice. Stannis is less forgiving.

"When he did," Davos repeated. "They were his men. His sworn men. What choice were they given?"

"Every man has choices. They might have refused to kneel. Some did, and died for it. Yet they died true men, and loyal." - Davos IV, ASOS

+.+.+

Crowns won't help when the dragons come.

"Some would say it's a poor king who crowns himself with bronze, Your Grace."

"Bronze and iron are stronger than gold and silver," Robb answered. "The old Kings of Winter wore such a sword-crown."

"Small good it did them when the dragons came. Heh." - Catelyn VI, ASOS

+.+.+

In back-to-back chapters, Jon regretfully finds himself riding off with the rebel host, while Rhaegal tries to make an escape before Daenerys massacres a city.

I should have tried to kill Mance Rayder on the Fist, even if it meant my life. That was what Qhorin Halfhand would have done. But Jon had hesitated, and the chance passed. The next day he had ridden off with Styr the Magnar, Jarl, and more than a hundred picked Thenns and raiders. He told himself that he was only biding his time, that when the moment came he would slip away and ride for Castle Black. The moment never came. - Jon III, ASOS

x

Rhaegal could sense something wrong as well. Thrice he tried to take wing, only to be pulled down by the heavy chain in Jhiqui's hand. - Daenerys III, ASOS

+.+.+

A RAT IN A MAZE 🐀🔪

Did you know it's believed that smaller harbour rats from the Free Cities carry the Shivers?

Rats who bring cold.

Rest in peace, Princess Daenerys Targaryen.

And then the Shivers came, and the Stranger walked the land.

The maesters knew the Shivers. They had seen its like before, a century ago, and the course of the contagion was written in their books. It was believed to have come to Westeros from across the sea, from one of the Free Cities or lands more distant still. Port cities and harbor towns always felt the hand of the disease first and hardest. Many of the smallfolk believed that it was carried by rats; not the familiar grey rats of King's Landing or Oldtown, big and bold and vicious, but the smaller black rats that could be seen swarming from the holds of ships at dock and scurrying down the ropes that held them fast. Though the guilt of rats was never proved to the satisfaction of the Citadel, suddenly every house in the Seven Kingdoms, from the grandest castle to the humblest hut, required a cat. - Fire & Blood

x

It was the hour of the owl when Queen Alysanne was awoken by her daughter shaking her gently by the arm. "Mother," Princess Daenerys said, "I'm cold."

[...]

The princess was six, and years past being weaned, but a wet nurse was summoned, for there were some who believed that mother's milk could cure Shivers. Maesters came and went, septons and septas prayed, the king commanded that a hundred new ratcatchers be hired at once, and offered a silver stag for every dead rat, grey or black.

[...]

None of it matter. A day and a half after she had woken her mother from sleep complaining of feeling cold, the little princess was dead. - Fire & Blood

Brrrrr!

The marks of the disease were well-known. It began simply enough, with a chill. Victims would complain of being cold, throw a fresh log on the fire, huddle under a blanket or a pile of furs. Some would call for hot soup, mulled wine, or, against all reason, beer. Neither blankets nor soups could stay the progress of the pestilence. Soon the shivering would begin; mild at first, a trembling, a shudder, but inexorably growing worse. Gooseprickles would march up and down the victim's limbs like conquering armies. By then the afflicted would be shivering so violently that their teeth would clatter, and their hands and feet would begin to convulse and twitch. When the victim's lips turned blue and he began to cough up blood, the end was nigh. Once the first chill was felt, the course of the Shivers was swift. - Fire & Blood

x

+.+.+

Arya the Rat.

Lord Renly stifled his laughter. "My brother is too kind. I can find the door myself." He bowed to Joffrey. "Perchance later you'll tell me how a nine-year-old girl the size of a wet rat managed to disarm you with a broom handle and throw your sword in the river." - Eddard III, AGOT

x

The old fat septa moved forward. "Boy, how did you come here? You have no business in this part of the castle."

"You can't keep this sort out," one of the red cloaks said. "Like trying to keep out rats." - Arya III, AGOT

x

The older scowled. "Who's this father of yours, boy, the city ratcatcher?" - Arya III, AGOT

x

"You be keepin' your filthy hands off. The gold cloaks know how to deal with thieving little gutter rats, that they do." - Arya V, AGOT

x

When he laughed he brayed like the donkeys they were riding. "Where's a gutter rat like Lumpyhead get him a sword?" - Arya I, ACOK

x

The Bull scowled at her. "Why should she want you? You're nothing but a little gutter rat!" - Arya II, ACOK

x

Porridge at least seemed to know he was alive, and there was a queer sort of kindness to the man. Davos suspected that he fed the rats; that was why there were so many. Once he thought he heard the gaoler talking to them as if they were children, but perhaps he'd only dreamed that. - Davos III, ASOS

x

[Stumpy note: I refuse to track a certain type of foreshadowing, so you're going to have to trust me that the following is an Arya reference.]

Thank you, @agentrouka-blog!

Every man shall reap what he has sown, from the highest lord to the lowest gutter rat. And some will lose more than the tips off their fingers, I promise you. - Davos IV, ASOS

x

Once the direwolf bolted through a dark door and returned a moment later with a grey rat between his teeth. The Rat Cook, Bran thought, but it was the wrong color, and only as big as a cat. The Rat Cook was white, and almost as huge as a sow . . . - Bran IV, ASOS

x

He probably won't even know me. She looked more like a drowned rat than a lord's cupbearer these days. A drowned boy rat. - Arya X, ASOS

+.+.+

There's rats in the walls of the Red Keep.

Part of her wanted to run, but she was afraid of snuffing out her candle. She heard the faint squeaking of rats and glimpsed a pair of tiny glowing eyes on the edge of the light, but rats did not scare her. - Arya IV, AGOT

x

In the Red Keep a man did best to hold his tongue. There were rats in the walls, and little birds who talked too much, and spiders. - Tyrion I, ASOS

x

"You will bring Shae to me through the walls, hidden from all these eyes. As you have done before."

Varys wrung his hands. "Oh, my lord, nothing would please me more, but . . . King Maegor wanted no rats in his own walls, if you take my meaning. He did require a means of secret egress, should he ever be trapped by his enemies, but that door does not connect with any other passages. - Tyrion II, ASOS

x

"It had to be the godswood. No other place in the Red Keep is safe from the eunuch's little birds . . . or little rats, as I call them. There are trees in the godswood instead of walls. Sky above instead of ceiling. Roots and dirt and rock in place of floor. The rats have no place to scurry. Rats need to hide, lest men skewer them with swords." - Sansa V, ASOS

x

I arrived here a King's Hand, riding through the gates at the head of my own sworn men, Tyrion reflected, and I leave like a rat scuttling through the dark, holding hands with a spider. - Tyrion XI, ASOS

x

She imagined Tyrion creeping between the walls like some monstrous rat. No. You are being silly. The dwarf is in his cell.  - Cersei I, AFFC

x

"Cheese knew the Red Keep better than the shape of his own cock," Mushroom tells us. The hidden doors and secret tunnels that Maegor the Cruel had built were as familiar to the rat-catcher as to the rats he hunted. Using a forgotten passageway, Cheese led Blood into the heart of the castle, unseen by any guard. - Fire & Blood

x

Years later, when these events had passed into legend, the smallfolk would tell each other that "rats in the walls" had overheard the lords talking and rushed to the princess with the news. - Fire & Blood

x

It is oft said that the Red Keep has no secrets, that there are rats in the walls who hear everything and whisper in the ears of sleepers by night. - Fire & Blood

+.+.+

Arya learns the secret passageways of the Red Keep, and makes some new friends along the way. Twice.

The dungeon was under the Red Keep, deeper than he dared imagine. He remembered the old stories about Maegor the Cruel, who murdered all the masons who labored on his castle, so they might never reveal its secrets. - Eddard XV, AGOT

x

She wondered where she was. When they had first come to King's Landing, she used to have bad dreams about getting lost in the castle. Father said the Red Keep was smaller than Winterfell, but in her dreams it had been immense, an endless stone maze with walls that seemed to shift and change behind her. She would find herself wandering down gloomy halls past faded tapestries, descending endless circular stairs, darting through courtyards or over bridges, her shouts echoing unanswered. - Arya III, AGOT

x

The monsters were still there, but the fear was gone.

Arya got to her feet, moving warily. The heads were all around her. She touched one, curious, wondering if it was real. Her fingertips brushed a massive jaw. It felt real enough. The bone was smooth beneath her hand, cold and hard to the touch. She ran her fingers down a tooth, black and sharp, a dagger made of darkness. It made her shiver.

"It's dead," she said aloud. "It's just a skull, it can't hurt me." Yet somehow the monster seemed to know she was there. She could feel its empty eyes watching her through the gloom, and there was something in that dim, cavernous room that did not love her. She edged away from the skull and backed into a second, larger than the first. For an instant she could feel its teeth digging into her shoulder, as if it wanted a bite of her flesh. Arya whirled, felt leather catch and tear as a huge fang nipped at her jerkin, and then she was running. Another skull loomed ahead, the biggest monster of all, but Arya did not even slow. She leapt over a ridge of black teeth as tall as swords, dashed through hungry jaws, and threw herself against the door. [...] If the room with the monsters had been dark, the hall was the blackest pit in the seven hells. Calm as still water, Arya told herself, but even when she gave her eyes a moment to adjust, there was nothing to see but the vague grey outline of the door she had come through. [...] Her fingers brushed against rough unfinished stone to her left. She followed the wall, her hand skimming along the surface, taking small gliding steps through the darkness. All halls lead somewhere. - Arya III, AGOT

x

This time the monsters did not frighten her. They seemed almost old friends. Arya held the candle over her head. With each step she took, the shadows moved against the walls, as if they were turning to watch her pass. "Dragons," she whispered. She slid Needle out from under her cloak. The slender blade seemed very small and the dragons very big, yet somehow Arya felt better with steel in her hand.

The long windowless hall beyond the door was as black as she remembered. She held Needle in her left hand, her sword hand, the candle in her right fist. Hot wax ran down across her knuckles. The entrance to the well had been to the left, so Arya went right. Part of her wanted to run, but she was afraid of snuffing out her candle. She heard the faint squeaking of rats and glimpsed a pair of tiny glowing eyes on the edge of the light, but rats did not scare her. - Arya IV, AGOT

x

"I warn you, Arya, if you're spinning this thread of air—"

"No, I told you, it was in the dungeons, by the place with the secret wall. I was chasing cats, and well …" - Arya III, AGOT

+.+.+

Secret tunnels, and an escape through sewers. Daenerys is told a familiar story.

She must have crept after them for miles. Finally they were gone, but there was no place to go but forward. She found the wall again and followed, blind and lost, pretending that Nymeria was padding along beside her in the darkness. At the end she was knee-deep in foul-smelling water, wishing she could dance upon it as Syrio might have, and wondering if she'd ever see light again. It was full dark when finally Arya emerged into the night air.

She found herself standing at the mouth of a sewer where it emptied into the river. She stank so badly that she stripped right there, dropping her soiled clothing on the riverbank as she dove into the deep black waters. She swam until she felt clean, and crawled out shivering. - Arya III, AGOT

x

"I know a way." Brown Ben Plumm stroked his speckled grey-and-white beard. "Sewers."

"Sewers? What do you mean?"

"Great brick sewers empty into the Skahazadhan, carrying the city's wastes. They might be a way in, for a few. That was how I escaped Meereen, after Scarb lost his head." Brown Ben made a face. "The smell has never left me. I dream of it some nights."

Ser Jorah looked dubious. "Easier to go out than in, it would seem to me. These sewers empty into the river, you say? That would mean the mouths are right below the walls."

[...]

There's things down there too. Biggest rats you ever saw, and worse things. Nasty." - Daenerys V, ASOS

+.+.+

Daenerys hears rats in the walls during her truth-seeking journey. Drogon isn't a happy boy.

What remained served to muffle her footfalls, but that was not all to the good. Dany could hear sounds within the walls, a faint scurrying and scrabbling that made her think of rats. Drogon heard them too. His head moved as he followed the sounds, and when they stopped he gave an angry scream. - Daenerys IV, ACOK

+.+.+

Aerys believes there's traitors inside the walls, right before he's killed.

But when he closed his eyes, it was Aerys Targaryen he saw, pacing alone in his throne room, picking at his scabbed and bleeding hands. The fool was always cutting himself on the blades and barbs of the Iron Throne. Jaime had slipped in through the king's door, clad in his golden armor, sword in hand. [...]

When Aerys saw the blood on his blade, he demanded to know if it was Lord Tywin's. "I want him dead, the traitor. I want his head, you'll bring me his head, or you'll burn with all the rest. All the traitors. Rossart says they are inside the walls! He's gone to make them a warm welcome. Whose blood? Whose?" - Jaime II, ASOS

+.+.+

The Iron Throne kills Maegor the Cruel . . . or was it someone else?

All day the lords made plans, and late into the night. It was the hour of the wolf when at last Maegor allowed them to take their leave. The king remained behind, brooding on the Iron Throne as they departed. Lord Towers and Lord Rosby were the last to see His Grace.

Hours later, as dawn was breaking, the last of Maegor's queens came seeking after him. Queen Elinor found him still upon the Iron Throne, pale and dead, his robes soaked through with blood. His arms had been slashed open from wrist to elbow on jagged barbs, and another blade had gone through his neck to emerge beneath his chin.

Man to this day believe it was the Iron Throne itself that killed him.

[...]

It might also have been a person or persons unknown, entering and leaving the throne room through some hidden passage. The Red Keep has its secrets, known only to the dead. - Fire & Blood

+.+.+

The Iron Throne rejects Rhaenyra Targaryen.

Septon Eustace tells us that the ceremony went on all through that night. It was well past dawn when Rhaenyra Targaryen rose and made her descent. "And as her lord husband Prince Daemon escorted her from the hall, cuts were seen upon Her Grace's legs and the palms of her left hand," wrote Eustace. "Drops of blood fell to the floor as she went past, and wise men looked at one another, though none dared speak the truth aloud: the Iron Throne had spurned her, and her days upon it would be few." - Fire & Blood

+.+.+

Was it the Rat or the Iron Throne?

They say the Iron Throne can be cruel to those who were not meant to sit it.

Ned could feel cold steel against his fingers as he leaned forward. Between each finger was a blade, the points of twisted swords fanning out like talons from arms of the throne. Even after three centuries, some were still sharp enough to cut. The Iron Throne was full of traps for the unwary. The songs said it had taken a thousand blades to make it, heated white-hot in the furnace breath of Balerion the Black Dread. The hammering had taken fifty-nine days. The end of it was this hunched black beast made of razor edges and barbs and ribbons of sharp metal; a chair that could kill a man, and had, if the stories could be believed. - Eddard XI, AGOT

x

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

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

With every eye on the king, somehow the man on the floor wrested a spear away from one of the gold cloaks, and used it to push himself back to his feet. "The throne denies him!" he cried. "He is no king!" - Sansa VIII, ACOK

x

Sansa felt limp with exhaustion as she made her way down from the gallery. She wondered how badly Joffrey had cut himself. They say the Iron Throne can be perilous cruel to those who were not meant to sit it. - Sansa VIII, ACOK

x

"Have you ever seen the Iron Throne? The barbs along the back, the ribbons of twisted steel, the jagged ends of swords and knives all tangled up and melted? It is not a comfortable seat, ser. Aerys cut himself so often men took to calling him King Scab, and Maegor the Cruel was murdered in that chair. By that chair, to hear some tell it. It is not a seat where a man can rest at ease. Ofttimes I wonder why my brothers wanted it so desperately." - Davos IV, ASOS

x

"And to mount a dragon . . . I remember the first time my father took me to court, Robert had to hold my hand. I could not have been older than four, which would have made him five or six. We agreed afterward that the king had been as noble as the dragons were fearsome." Stannis snorted. "Years later, our father told us that Aerys had cut himself on the throne that morning, so his Hand had taken his place. It was Tywin Lannister who'd so impressed us." His fingers touched the surface of the table, tracing a path lightly across the varnished hills. "Robert took the skulls down when he donned the crown, but he could not bear to have them destroyed. Dragon wings over Westeros . . . there would be such a . . ." - Davos V, ASOS

x

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

+.+.+

Cold, chilling words.

"I will not be part of murder, Robert. Do as you will, but do not ask me to fix my seal to it."

[...]

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

x

The red door was so far ahead of her, and she could feel the icy breath behind, sweeping up on her. If it caught her she would die a death that was more than death, howling forever alone in the darkness. She began to run. - Daenerys IX, AGOT

x

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

x

Next you will be offering me a suit of magic armor and a palace in Valyria. "If Daenerys is no more than a sweet young girl, the Iron Throne will cut her into sweet young pieces." - Tyrion II, ADWD

x

"My lord is good to care so much, but I am well protected." Dany gestured toward where Barristan Selmy stood with one hand resting on his sword hilt. "Barristan the Bold, they call him. Twice he has saved me from assassins." - Daenerys III, ADWD

+.+.+

Uh oh, parallels:

Nobody can figure out who killed King Renly! Was it a shadow?

"Cold," said Renly in a small puzzled voice, a heartbeat before the steel of his gorget parted like cheesecloth beneath the shadow of a blade that was not there. He had time to make a small thick gasp before the blood came gushing out of his throat. - Catelyn IV, ASOS

x

"Oh, very good." Jaime laughed. "Your wits are quicker than mine, I confess it. When they found me standing over my dead king, I never thought to say, 'No, no, it wasn't me, it was a shadow, a terrible cold shadow.'" - Jaime II, ASOS

x

Now at last she had him. High walls pressed close on either side, and ahead was a blank windowless mass of stone. Quiet as a shadow, she repeated, sliding forward, light as a feather. - Arya III, ASOS

+.+.+

Uh oh, parallels:

Snow is falling on King's Landing when Kevan Lannister is assassinated by children in the walls.

The snow had been falling on King's Landing most of the night [...]

The chill in the throne room was palpable. [...]

Behind the table where the five members of the king's small council were seated, the Iron Throne crouched like some great black beast, its barbs and claws and blades half-shrouded in shadow. Kevan Lannister could feel it at his back, an itch between the shoulder blades. It was easy to imagine old King Aerys perched up there, bleeding from some fresh cut, glowering down. [...]

"Aye, if we had gold," Ser Harys Swyft said. "Alas, my lords, our vaults contain only rats and roaches. I have written again to the Myrish bankers. [...]

Outside the snow was swirling round the outer ward, a caged beast howling to be free. "Have you ever felt such cold?" asked Ser Harys. [...]

"An old black tomcat with a torn ear," Cersei told him. "A filthy thing, and foul-tempered. He clawed Joff's hand once." She made a face. "The cats keep the rats down, I know, but that one... he's been known to attack ravens in the rookery." [...]

Ser Kevan had always found them uncomfortably hot. Not tonight. Once past the chamber door, the chill was palpable. Black ash and dying embers were all that remained of the hearthfire.

The rest was shrouded in shadow … except beneath the open window, where a spray of ice crystals glittered in the moonlight, swirling in the wind. [...]

"Winter," said Ser Kevan. The word made a white mist in the air. He turned away from the window.

Then something slammed him in the chest between the ribs, hard as a giant's fist. It drove the breath from him and sent him lurching backwards. [...]

"Tyrion?" he called. "Where …?"

"Far away," a half-familiar voice replied.

He stood in a pool of shadow by a bookcase, plump, pale-faced, round-shouldered, clutching a crossbow in soft powdered hands. Silk slippers swaddled his feet. [...]

Pain washed over him. He closed his eyes, opened them again. "There are … there are hundreds of Lannister guardsmen in this castle."

"But none in this room, thankfully. [...]

A gust of wind blew up. Ser Kevan shivered violently.

"Are you cold, my lord?" asked Varys. [...]

Ser Kevan was cold as ice, and every labored breath sent a fresh stab of pain through him. He glimpsed movement, heard the soft scuffling sound of slippered feet on stone. A child emerged from a pool of darkness, a pale boy in a ragged robe, no more than nine or ten. Another rose up behind the Grand Maester's chair. The girl who had opened the door for him was there as well. They were all around him, half a dozen of them, white-faced children with dark eyes, boys and girls together.

And in their hands, the daggers. - Epilogue, ADWD

+.+.+

Uh oh, parallels:

Panic! Daenerys can't see who's there.

This is how it was meant to be. The other was a nightmare, and I have only now awakened.

She woke suddenly in the darkness of her cabin, still flush with triumph. Balerion seemed to wake with her, and she heard the faint creak of wood, water lapping against the hull, a football on the deck above her head. And something else.

Someone was in the cabin with her.

"Irri? Jhiqui? Where are you?" Her handmaids did not respond. It was too black to see, but she could hear them breathing. "Jorah, is that you?"

"They sleep," a woman said. "They all sleep." The voice was very close. "Even dragons must sleep."

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. "What do you want to me?"

[...]

"Khaleesi, are you unwell?" asked Jhiqui.

"A dream." Dany shook her head. "I dreamed a dream, no more. Go back to sleep. All of us, go back to sleep." Yet try as she might, sleep would not come again. - Daenerys III, ASOS

+.+.+

Uh oh, parallels:

After another surprise visit that catches Daenerys off guard, Daenerys asks Quaithe how she got past her guardsmen.

A soft rustle made her open them again. She sat up with a soft splash. "Missandei?" she called. "Irri? Jhiqui?"

"They sleep," came the answer.

A woman stood under the persimmon tree, clad in a hooded robe that brushed the grass. Beneath the hood, her face seemed hard and shiny. She is wearing a mask, Dany knew, a wooden mask finished in dark red lacquer. "Quaithe? Am I dreaming?" She pinched her ear and winced at the pain. "I dreamt of you on Balerion, when first we came to Astapor."

"You did not dream. Then or now."

"What are you doing here? How did you get past my guards?"

"I came another way. Your guards never saw me." – Daenerys II, ADWD

+.+.+

Uh oh, parallels:

Arya IV, ACOK (click) -> using a secret tunnel found underground, Arya escapes a burning barn, and ends up in a river. Did dragons set the barn on fire? It's hard to tell.  

+.+.+

Uh oh, parallels:

Davos III, ASOS (click) -> After failing to kill the fire lady, Davos (or is that Jon Snow?) finds himself locked in the cells underneath Dragonstone. His only friends are the rats.

+.+.+

Uh oh, parallels:

Tyrion XI, ASOS (click) -> Sibling Jaime manages to free Tyrion from the cells underneath King's Landing. Throw in several references to rats, Maegor the Cruel, spooky warnings about the dangers of secret tunnels, and you have a pretty fun chapter!

Oh, and the murder. I forgot the murder. While in the tunnels he takes a detour and does some murder.

+.+.+

Uh oh, parallels:

Bran IV, ASOS (click) -> Bran explores the abandoned Nightfort, and finds a sewer that might as well be Arya's favourite sewer in King's Landing. He's not alone though, he has his friends, and a castle filled with rats in the walls and floors.

+.+.+

Chapter transitions that make you go hmmm:

ACOK: Arya IX -> Daenerys IV

Arya the cupbearer. Daenerys is served.

Thank you, @decadelongsummer!

Nan, you shall be my cupbearer, and serve me at table and in chambers. - Arya IX, ACOK

x

They had rattish pointed faces and tiny pink hands, like the servitor who had brought her the glass of shade. - Daenerys IV, ACOK

+.+.+

Chapter transitions that make you go hmmm:

ACOK: Daenerys V -> Arya X

A man from a society of assassins attempts to kill Daenerys. Arya Stark provides the echo, and shows us how it's done.

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

A Qartheen stepped into her path. "Mother of Dragons, for you." He knelt and thrust a jewel box into her face.

Dany took it almost by reflex. The box was carved wood, its mother-of-pearl lid inlaid with jasper and chalcedony. "You are too generous." She opened it. Within was a glittering green scarab carved from onyx and emerald. Beautiful, she thought. This will help pay for our passage. As she reached inside the box, the man said, "I am so sorry," but she hardly heard.

The scarab unfolded with a hiss.

Dany caught a glimpse of a malign black face, almost human, and an arched tail dripping venom . . . and then the box flew from her hand in pieces, turning end over end. Sudden pain twisted her fingers. As she cried out and clutched her hand, the brass merchant let out a shriek, a woman screamed, and suddenly the Qartheen were shouting and pushing each other aside. Ser Jorah slammed past her, and Dany stumbled to one knee. 

[...]

"They were defending me." Dany snapped her hand to shake the sting from her fingers. "It was the other one, the Qartheen." When she looked around he was gone. "He was a Sorrowful Man. There was a manticore in that jewel box he gave me. This man knocked it out of my hand." - Daenerys V, ACOK

x

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

[...]

"I could catch you if I wanted," she called to it softly, "but I have to go, cat." The cat hissed again and ran off.

[...]

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

[...]

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

[...]

"He told me to give all his guards a silver piece, for their good service." The words seemed to come out of nowhere.

"Silver, you say?" He did not believe her, but he wanted to; silver was silver, after all. "Give it over, then."

Her fingers dug down beneath her tunic and came out clutching the coin Jaqen had given her. In the dark the iron could pass for tarnished silver. She held it out . . . and let it slip through her fingers.

Cursing her softly, the man went to a knee to grope for the coin in the dirt, and there was his neck right in front of her. Arya slid her dagger out and drew it across his throat, as smooth as summer silk. His blood covered her hands in a hot gush and he tried to shout but there was blood in his mouth as well.

"Valar morghulis," she whispered as he died. - Arya X, ACOK

+.+.+

Chapter transitions that make you go hmmm:

ASOS: Davos II -> Jaime II -> Tyrion II -> Arya II

After King's Landing burns, the sailor returns to Dragonstone, with a gifted dagger, and one goal: assassinate the fire lady who burns people alive.

She would be waiting on Dragonstone as well, waiting in all her beauty and all her power, with her god and her shadows and his king. The red priestess had always seemed loyal to Stannis, until now. She has broken him, as a man breaks a horse. She would ride him to power if she could, and for that she gave my sons to the fire. I will cut the living heart from her breast and see how it burns. He touched the hilt of the fine long Lysene dirk that the captain had given him. [...] A knife in the heart, though . . . even demons can be killed by cold iron, the singers say. [...] "Yes, just so, someone. But not you. You are weak as a child, and no warrior. Stay, I beg you, we will talk more and you will eat, and perhaps we will sail to Braavos and hire a Faceless Man to do this thing, yes? But you, no, you must sit and eat." - Davos II, ASOS

x

Jaime the Kingslayer describes the Mad King's last moments. He wished he could have vanished once it was done.

When Aerys saw the blood on his blade, he demanded to know if it was Lord Tywin's. "I want him dead, the traitor. I want his head, you'll bring me his head, or you'll burn with all the rest. All the traitors. Rossart says they are inside the walls! He's gone to make them a warm welcome. Whose blood? Whose?" [...] Ser Elys Westerling and Lord Crakehall and others of his father's knights burst into the hall in time to see the last of it, so there was no way for Jaime to vanish and let some braggart steal the praise or blame. - Jaime II, ASOS

x

Tyrion searches for hidden passageways in the Red Keep while waiting for Shae. Varys appears disguised as another person.

Varys wrung his hands. "Oh, my lord, nothing would please me more, but . . . King Maegor wanted no rats in his own walls, if you take my meaning. He did require a means of secret egress, should he ever be trapped by his enemies, but that door does not connect with any other passages. [...]

"He's gone," Shae said.

Tyrion turned to look. It was true. The eunuch had vanished, skirts and all. The hidden doors are here somewhere, they have to be. - Tyrion II, ASOS

x

Arya pulls a Davos.

Her hand went under the table to touch the hilt of her dagger, and make sure it was still there. - Arya II, ASOS

+.+.+

Wait, there's more!

THE USURPER'S KNIFE

Daenerys is running.

Thank you, @kadarakey and @aegor-bamfsteel!

The Usurper's hired knives were close behind them, he insisted, though Dany had never seen one. - Daenerys I, AGOT

x

She hated it, as her brother must have. All those years of running from city to city one step ahead of the Usurper's knives, pleading for help from archons and princes and magisters, buying our food with flattery. - Daenerys III, ACOK

x

She was no pampered lady, blind to such things. She had seen cutpurses aplenty in the streets of the Free Cities, during the years she'd spent with her brother, running from the Usurper's hired knives. - Daenerys III, ACOK

x

He had the truth of it, but she did not like the sharpness with which he put it. "Illyrio protected us from the Usurper's knives, and he believed in my brother's cause." - Daenerys III, ACOK

x

She was fleeing again. Her whole life had been one long flight, it seemed. She had begun running in her mother's womb, and never once stopped. How often had she and Viserys stolen away in the black of night, a bare step ahead of the Usurper's hired knives? - Daenerys V, ACOK

x

The narrow sea was often stormy, and Dany had crossed it half a hundred times as a girl, running from one Free City to the next half a step ahead of the Usurper's hired knives. - Daenerys I, ASOS

x

The red door was so far ahead of her, and she could feel the icy breath behind, sweeping up on her. If it caught her she would die a death that was more than death, howling forever alone in the darkness. She began to run. - Daenerys IX, AGOT

+.+.+

Except there were no knives chasing her. Like so many others in the story, Daenerys believes in a threat that was never there.

The king's mouth twisted in a bitter grimace. "No, gods be cursed. Some pox-ridden Pentoshi cheesemonger had her brother and her walled up on his estate with pointy-hatted eunuchs all around them, and now he's handed them over to the Dothraki. I should have had them both killed years ago, when it was easy to get at them, but Jon was as bad as you. More fool I, I listened to him." - Eddard II, AGOT

And now she's running towards the knife.

+.+.+

A dagger in the flesh.

"Daenerys Targaryen has wed some Dothraki horselord. What of it? Shall we send her a wedding gift?"

The king frowned. "A knife, perhaps. A good sharp one, and a bold man to wield it." - Eddard II, AGOT

x

"Kiss her?" Ser Barristan repeated, aghast.

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

x

Her words were a knife through Dany's breast. What had she ever done to make the gods so cruel? - Daenerys VIII, AGOT

x

Mirri Maz Duur chanted words in a tongue that Dany did not know, and a knife appeared in her hand. Dany never saw where it came from. - Daenerys VIII, AGOT

x

Another pain grasped her, and Dany bit back a scream. It felt as if her son had a knife in each hand, as if he were hacking at her to cut his way out. - Daenerys VIII, AGOT

x

A great knife of pain ripped down her back, and she felt her skin tear open and smelled the stench of burning blood and saw the shadow of wings. And Daenerys Targaryen flew. - Daenerys IX, AGOT

x

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

x

Pyat Pree was gibbering in some unknown tongue and hopping from one foot to the other. When Dany looked behind her, she saw thin tendrils of smoke forcing their way through cracks in the ancient stone walls of the Palace of Dust, and rising from between the black tiles of the roof.

Howling curses, Pyat Pree drew a knife and danced toward her, but Drogon flew at his face. Then she heard the crack of Jhogo's whip, and never was a sound so sweet. The knife went flying, and an instant later Rakharo was slamming Pyat to the ground. - Daenerys IV, ACOK

x

"A craven's knife can slay a queen as easily as a hero's. I would sleep more soundly if I knew my heart's delight had kept her fierce horselords close around her. In Qarth, you had three bloodriders who never left your side. Wherever have they gone?" - Daenerys III, ADWD

x

Their father, her brother Rhaegar, perished even earlier, slain by the Usurper on the Trident. Her brother Viserys had died screaming in Vaes Dothrak with a crown of molten gold upon his head. They will kill me too if I allow it. The knives that slew my Stalwart Shield were meant for me. - Daenerys I, ADWD

x

Nine. The word was a dagger in her heart. - Daenerys II, ADWD

+.+.+

Arya loves her daggers.

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

x

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

x

Arya slid her dagger out and drew it across his throat, as smooth as summer silk. - Arya X, ACOK

x

Her sword was still in its sheath across her back, and she kept a hand close to the hilt of the dagger she had stolen from Roose Bolton, in case she didn't like whatever they found within. - Arya II, ASOS

x

I knew they were outlaws, Arya thought, listening. Her hand went under the table to touch the hilt of her dagger, and make sure it was still there. If they try to rob us, they'll be sorry. - Arya II, ASOS

x

She yanked Greenbeard's dagger from its sheath and spun away before he could catch her. Gendry made a grab for her as well, but she had always been too fast for Gendry. - Arya VI, ASOS

x

The Hound sliced the meat with his dagger, and narrowed his eyes when he caught Arya looking at the knife. "Don't even think about it." - Arya IX, ASOS

x

There were two silver stags in the archer's purse, and almost thirty coppers. His dagger had a pretty pink stone in the hilt. The Hound hefted the knife in his hand, then flipped it toward Arya. She caught it by the hilt, slid it through her belt, and felt a little better. It wasn't Needle, but it was steel. - Arya XII, ASOS

x

They're killing him. Arya had no more cups, but there was something better to throw. She drew the dagger they'd robbed off the dying archer and tried to fling it at the Tickler the way he'd done. - Arya XIII, ASOS

x

Gather your belongings, the captain had said, but there were few enough of those. Only the clothes she was wearing, her little pouch of coins, the gifts the crew had given her, the dagger on her left hip and Needle on her right. - Arya I, AFFC

x

In the black of night she rose again, donned the clothes she'd worn from Westeros, and buckled on her swordbelt. Needle hung from one hip, her dagger from the other. - Arya II, AFFC

x

The Tickler hung on the wall as well, the black holes that were his eyes swimming with malice. The sight of him brought back the feel of the dagger in her hand as she had plunged it into his back, again and again and again. - The Ugly Little Girl, ADWD

x

"Dragons," she whispered. She slid Needle out from under her cloak. The slender blade seemed very small and the dragons very big, yet somehow Arya felt better with steel in her hand. - Arya IV, AGOT

+.+.+

Chapter transitions that make you go hmmm:

AGOT: Jon II -> Daenerys II

"First lesson," Jon said. "Stick them with the pointy end." Arya gave him a whap on the arm with the flat of her blade. The blow stung, but Jon found himself grinning like an idiot. "I know which end to use," Arya said. - Jon II, AGOT

AGOT: Arya II -> Daenerys III

"Arya, what did you think to do with this … Needle? Who did you hope to skewer? Your sister? Septa Mordane? Do you know the first thing about sword fighting?"

All she could think of was the lesson Jon had given her. "Stick them with the pointy end," she blurted out. - Arya II, AGOT

+.+.+

Uh oh, parallels:

Jon recalls something while being stabbed to death by daggers.

Jon fell to his knees. He found the dagger's hilt and wrenched it free. In the cold night air the wound was smoking. "Ghost," he whispered. Pain washed over him. Stick them with the pointy end. When the third dagger took him between the shoulder blades, he gave a grunt and fell face-first into the snow. He never felt the fourth knife. Only the cold … - Jon XIII, ADWD

+.+.+

Tracking the Usurper's Knife:

Robert -> Joffrey

Instead he went poking among his father's weapons. Robert Baratheon was a man of careless generosity, and would have given his son any dagger he wanted . . . but Tyrion guessed that the boy had just taken it. - Tyrion VIII, ASOS

Joffrey -> Catspaw

Instead the boy found his catspaw among the unsavory lot of freeriders, merchants, and camp followers who'd attached themselves to the king's party as they made their way north. Some poxy lackwit willing to risk his life for a prince's favor and a little coin. - Tyrion VIII, ASOS

Catspaw -> Catelyn

He saw his mother sitting alone in a cabin, looking at a bloodstained knife on a table in front of her, as the rowers pulled at their oars and Ser Rodrik leaned across a rail, shaking and heaving. - Bran III, AGOT

Catelyn -> Ned

Catelyn slid a dagger out from under her cloak and placed it in his hand. "This blade was sent to open Bran's throat and spill his life's blood."

[...]

"Very well," he said, thrusting the dagger into his belt. - Eddard IV, AGOT

Ned -> Littlefinger

"You forget," Ned told him. "You forget Jon Arryn. You forget Jory Cassel. And you forget this." He drew the dagger and laid it on the table between them; a length of dragonbone and Valyrian steel, as sharp as the difference between right and wrong, between true and false, between life and death. "They sent a man to cut my son's throat, Lord Baelish." - Eddard XIII, AGOT

x

As his men died around him, Littlefinger slid Ned's dagger from its sheath and shoved it up under his chin. His smile was apologetic. "I did warn you not to trust me, you know." - Eddard XIV, AGOT

Littlefinger -> ???

Petyr cut a pomegranate in two with his dagger, offering half to Sansa. "You should try and eat, my lady."

[...]

"Tell me, Alayne—which is more dangerous, the dagger brandished by an enemy, or the hidden one pressed to your back by someone you never even see?"

"The hidden dagger." - Sansa VI, ASOS

+.+.+

Who will get the Usurper's Knife next?!

Tune in next time to find out!

right weapon, wrong villain, right weapon, wrong villain, right weapon, wrong villain

+.+.+

BRAN THE DRAGONSLAYER?

Bran can be brave.

Bran thought about it. "Can a man still be brave if he's afraid?"

"That is the only time a man can be brave," his father told him. "Do you understand why I did it?" - Bran I, AGOT

+.+.+

Chapter transitions that make you go hmmm:

AGOT: Daenerys III -> Bran IV

"No dragon," Irri said. "Brave men kill them, for dragon terrible evil beasts. It is known." - Daenerys III, AGOT

ACOK: Daenerys II -> Bran IV

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

ASOS: Daenerys II -> Bran II

It was too dangerous to let them fly freely over the city; the world was all too full of men who would gladly kill them for no better reason than to name themselves dragonslayer. - Daenerys II, ASOS

+.+.+

Dragonslayers die?

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

x

"But there is no pack," she whispered to the weirwood. Bran and Rickon were dead - Arya X, ACOK

+.+.+

Dragon or eagle?

Thrice that day she caught sight of Drogon. Once he was so far off that he might have been an eagle, slipping in and out of distant clouds, but Dany knew the look of him by now, even when he was no more than a speck. The second time he passed before the sun, his black wings spread, and the world darkened. - Daenerys X, ADWD

x

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

x

Something was moving atop one of them, he saw. A dragon, but which one? At this distance, it could as easily have been an eagle. A very big eagle. - Tyrion II, TWOW

x

She had a woman's face, with gilded hair, ivory eyes, and pointed ivory teeth. Water gushed yellow from her heavy breasts. But in place of arms she had the wings of a bat or a dragon, her legs were the legs of an eagle, and behind she wore a scorpion's curled and venomous tail. - Daenerys II, ASOS

+.+.+

Bran attempts to slip into an eagle.

<- Daenerys II, ASOS

"Look," she said, pointing at the sky with her frog spear, "an eagle."

Bran lifted his head and saw it, its grey wings spread and still as it floated on the wind. He followed it with his eyes as it circled higher, wondering what it would be like to soar about the world so effortless. Better than climbing, even. He tried to reach the eagle, to leave his stupid crippled body and rise into the sky to join it, the way he joined with Summer. The greenseers could do it. I should be able to do it too. He tried and tried, until the eagle vanished in the golden haze of the afternoon. "It's gone," he said, disappointed.

"We'll see others," said Meera. "They live up here."

"I suppose." - Bran II, ASOS

+.+.+

Practice makes perfect.

<- Daenerys I, ASOS

"No," said Jojen, "only a boy who dreams. The greenseers were more than that. They were wargs as well, as you are, and the greatest of them could wear the skins of any beast that flies or swims or crawls, and could look through the eyes of the weirwoods as well, and see the truth that lies beneath the world. Bran I, ASOS

x

"If we were eagles we might fly," said Jojen sharply, "but we have no wings, no more than we have horses." - Bran I, ASOS

x

The skinchanger was grey-faced, round-shouldered, and bald, a mouse of a man with a wolfling's eyes. "Once a horse is broken to the saddle, any man can mount him," he said in a soft voice. "Once a beast's been joined to a man, any skinchanger can slip inside and ride him. Orell was withering inside his feathers, so I took the eagle for my own. - Jon X, ASOS

x

"A wild stallion will buck and kick when a man tries to mount him, and try to bite the hand that slips the bit between his teeth," Lord Brynden said, "but a horse that has known one rider will accept another. Young or old, these birds have all been ridden. Choose one now, and fly."

He chose one bird, and then another, without success, but the third raven looked at him with shrewd black eyes, tilted its head, and gave a quork, and quick as that he was not a boy looking at a raven but a raven looking at a boy. The song of the river suddenly grew louder, the torches burned a little brighter than before, and the air was full of strange smells. When he tried to speak it came out in a scream, and his first flight ended when he crashed into a wall and ended back inside his own broken body. The raven was unhurt. It flew to him and landed on his arm, and Bran stroked its feathers and slipped inside of it again. Before long he was flying around the cavern, weaving through the long stone teeth that hung down from the ceiling, even flapping out over the abyss and swooping down into its cold black depths. - Bran III, ADWD

+.+.+

All men die, and every beast that flies.

"All men die," he could almost hear her say, "and women too, and every beast that flies or swims or runs. It's not the when o' dying that matters, it's the how of it, Jon Snow." 

[...]

The sound was shocking, ear-piercing, thick with agony. Varamyr fell, writhing, and the 'cat was screaming too . . . and high, high in the eastern sky, against the wall of cloud, Jon saw the eagle burning. For a heartbeat it flamed brighter than a star, wreathed in red and gold and orange, its wings beating wildly at the air as if it could fly from the pain. Higher it flew, and higher, and higher still. - Jon X, ASOS

+.+.+

STORM X STORM 🦑🖤🐉

Parallels that make us laugh: storm edition.

No squall could frighten Dany, though. Daenerys Stormborn, she was called, for she had come howling into the world on distant Dragonstone as the greatest storm in the memory of Westeros howled outside, a storm so fierce that it ripped gargoyles from the castle walls and smashed her father's fleet to kindling. - Daenerys I, ASOS

x

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

+.+.+

Parallels that make us laugh: Silence vs. Drogon edition.

"Euron. Crow's Eye, they call him, as black a pirate as ever raised a sail. He's been gone for years, but Lord Balon was no sooner cold than there he was, sailing into Lordsport in his Silence. Black sails and a red hull, and crewed by mutes. - Catelyn V, ASOS

x

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, ADWD

+.+.+

Parallels that make us laugh: the iron price edition.

Daario had plundered himself a whole new wardrobe in Meereen, and to match it he had redyed his trident beard and curly hair a deep rich purple. It made his eyes look almost purple too, as if he were some lost Valyrian. - Daenerys VI, ASOS

x

Her bloodriders were waiting for her. Silver bells tinkled in their oiled braids, and they wore the gold and jewels of dead men. - Daenerys VI, ASOS

x

In the Old Way, women might decorate themselves with ornaments bought with coin, but a warrior wore only the jewelry he took off the corpses of enemies slain by his own hand. Paying the iron price, it was called. - Theon I, ACOK

+.+.+

She even liked the sailors.

She loved the sea. She liked the sharp salty smell of the air, and the vastness of horizons bounded only by a vault of azure sky above. It made her feel small, but free as well. She liked the dolphins that sometimes swam along beside Balerion, slicing through the waves like silvery spears, and the flying fish they glimpsed now and again. She even liked the sailors, with all their songs and stories. Once on a voyage to Braavos, as she'd watched the crew wrestle down a great green sail in a rising gale, she had even thought how fine it would be to be a sailor. - Daenerys I, ASOS

+.+.+

Krakens vs. Dragons.

"In the Seven Kingdoms, there are tales of dragons who grew so huge that they could pluck giant krakens from the seas."

Dany laughed. "That would be a wondrous sight to see." - Daenerys I, ASOS

x

"There are dangers at sea as well. Corsairs and pirates hunt the southern route, and north of Valyria the Smoking Sea is demon-haunted. The next storm could sink or scatter us, a kraken could pull us under . . . - Daenerys I, ASOS

x

The eunuch drew a parchment from his sleeve. "A kraken has been seen off the Fingers." He giggled. "Not a Greyjoy, mind you, a true kraken. It attacked an Ibbenese whaler and pulled it under. There is fighting on the Stepstones, and a new war between Tyrosh and Lys seems likely. Both hope to win Myr as ally. Sailors back from the Jade Sea report that a three-headed dragon has hatched in Qarth, and is the wonder of that city—"

"Dragons and krakens do not interest me, regardless of the number of their heads," said Lord Tywin. - Tyrion III, ASOS

x

Then she saw it: an uprooted tree, huge and dark, coming straight at them. A tangle of roots and limbs poked up out of the water as it came, like the reaching arms of a great kraken. - Arya IX, ASOS

+.+.+

Daenerys dreams of banners.

I ought to have a banner sewn, she thought as she led her tattered band up along Astapor's meandering river. She closed her eyes to imagine how it would look: all flowing black silk, and on it the red three-headed dragon of Targaryen, breathing golden flames. A banner such as Rhaegar might have borne. - Daenerys III, ASOS

x

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

x

Tyrion I, TWOW:

+.+.+

Drowning in his eyes.

"A great talker, you mean."

"He brings us the Stormcrows." And he has blue eyes. - Daenerys IV, ASOS

x

The dragon has three heads, but I have only one. 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

x

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

+.+.+

Daenerys yearns for a dangerously cruel man.

Dany tried to imagine what it would be like if she allowed Daario to kiss her, the way Jorah had kissed her on the ship. The thought was exciting and disturbing, both at once. It is too great a risk. The Tyroshi sellsword was not a good man, no one needed to tell her that. Under the smiles and the jests he was dangerous, even cruel. - Daenerys V, ASOS

+.+.+

ASOS: PART III

Touch me.

JONSA 🐺❤️❄️

+.+.+

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

[sparrow-orion-writes]

Fine By Me

written for @flashfictionfridayofficial

Character from Cardinal Sins.

--

Warning: This writing contains the themes of manipulation, lack of boundaries, domestic abuse and violence. If you feel this work may affect you or your mental health, please do not read.

--

Roman has always been a bit of a pushover.

Ever since he was young - some sort of broken survival instinct, he'd assumed - "fine by me," he'd say.

It was very rarely fine by him.

At first it was family things; "yeah, that's fine," he'd say, being dragged along to something where he'd feel visciously uncomfortable. He'd find himself picking at a sense of insecurity that would tend to unravel all around him halfway through some dinner or party, where everyone seemed fine, but him.

He hated social gatherings as a kid. He hated family in general. They were too nosy, wanting to know what he wanted to be when he grows up, then what he was studying, until inevitably "how come you haven't had a girlfriend yet?"

'Well, aunt Jemima, not that it's any of your business, but I'm currently discovering I am a flaming homosexual.'

As if he'd ever needed more reasons to feel like an outcast in his family.

All the questions were full of the real thinly-veiled curiousity. That is, the curiosity that was him. The boy that was left on a doorstep as an infant, sick and blue with the cold. The boy that dropped out of the sky.

That was all he ever was to them. Nothing he did after that - of which he'd had no control over - had ever mattered to any of them. They just wanted to see the family member that appeared out of nowhere, abandoned in the cold.

"Fine by me," he uttered, through a toothy smile that his father, wearily, knew was entirely fake. For the sake of him, really, he endured the bullshit their family put him through.

Thankfully, towards being seventeen, his father stopped asking. Roman never asked why, he assumed because most of the other teenagers stopped going too.

But as an adult, it stayed. "Fine by me," he said, to everything his friends asked of him. Help them move. Support them through a break up. Be their emotional support 24/7. Get abandoned in a club by them at 3am. He never learned how to say no. Some part of him was as scared of saying it as he was of hearing it.

When he was twenty years old and in the first forays of a real, passionate, furious romance, he still hadn't learned the word no.

It's always a dangerous game to play, stepping into a relationship with no boundaries.

He said it was fine, when he knew his boyfriend was lying. It was fine when he told him he did things that he knew he didn't. It was okay when he started to question every action that he did, when he felt he was walking on eggshells.

The bruises were fine. The scars were nothing to worry about.

Because that was Roman, it was just always fine by him.

--

CS taglist:

@gabe-killed-me-with-ace-cream

@careful-pyromancer

@hghrules

#And then Aspen fully kicked that dudes ass #Because he deserved i #I love Roman #unedited #short story #drabble #(?) #my writing

[tags5colors]

Chandra Nalaar 

Parts: 1 2

Pre Mending or Post Mending: Post

Status: Alive

Age: 23 as of Kaladesh

Primarily Color(s): Red

Other Color(s):

Magical abilities: Natural Pyromancer

Non-magic skills: N/A

Species: Human

Homeplane: Kaladesh

Know Visited planes (that we’ve seen in cards): Regatha, Zendikar, Ravnica, Innistrad, Kaladesh, Amonkhet, Dominaria, Tarkir, Ixalan, Alara (reborn)

Sets/Storylines: Lorwyn, Magic 2010, Zendikar, Magic 2011, Magic 2012, Magic 2013, Magic 2014, Magic 2015, Magic Origins, Oath of the Gatewatch, Eldritch Moon, Kaladesh, Amonkhet, Dominaria, War of the Spark, Chandra comic, Magic 2020, Magic 2021, Innistrad 3

Known Other Planeswalkers (that we’ve seen as a planeswalker card): Jace, Gideon, Sarkhan, Nissa, Nixilis, Ugin, Liliana, Tamiyo, Dovin, Tezzeret, Ajani, Saheeli, Bolas, Samut, Karn, Jaya, Teferi, Kaya, Arlinn, Sorin

Mini Bio: There is no virtue in subtlety—at least not as far as Chandra Nalaar is concerned. She’s a confident, ardent, defiant Planeswalker whose specialty is pyromancy: spells of fire, fire, and more fire. Growing up as a magic-user on a plane of inventors, she’s used to being the black sheep. In fact, she grew to embrace and celebrate her independence from her renegade parents. But she and her parents were hunted by the local consuls for transgressions against their oppressive rule. Her parents were brutally punished, and Chandra herself sentenced to execution for crimes she didn’t commit. Outraged, panicked, and grief-stricken, Chandra’s spark ignited along with her pyromancy, and she bathed her punishers in flames before being transported to a new plane. There she was welcomed into the plane’s order of monks, pyromancers like herself. There Chandra learned how to channel her impulses and to control her gift. Now Chandra travels the planes of the Multiverse in pursuit of new adventures away from responsibilities.

#magic the gathering #mtg #Planeswalker #bio #chandra #Chandra Nalaar #red #gatewatch #kaladesh

[the-littlest-kojin]

What does/did Shio find most challenging about being the Warrior of Light? I imagine she enjoyed the opportunity to travel and see cultures in so many different places, including those on the First, but I suspect there were things she liked less.

Did she find the pressure uncomfortable? Too many people depending upon her? Or perhaps her sense of duty as the Warrior of Light meant that she could not focus upon the things she more enjoyed, such as exploration and study? Or was there ever a time she just felt emotionally exhausted by the losses and trials she experienced?

OH BOY THIS ONE HITS SHIO'S STORY PERFECTLY. Strap in.

I feel that the best way I can answer this question is just to recount the ARR story from Shio's perspective. If people like it, I will recount other parts of the narrative upon request.

So at the beginning of ARR, newly arrived in Limsa Lominsa, Shio is wide-eyed and earnest. She is, at this time, fifteen.

Doing general odd jobs around the Thalassocracy, she is pretty happy! The pirates - sorry, sailors - remind her of the Confederacy back home on the Ruby Sea, if much nicer. There's lovely things to study and learn, marauding, the Upright Thieves, the arts of the Arcanist. There's even a guild for her favourite past time, fishing.

Then she gets hired by the Scions.

She is special, they tell her, because she has been blessed by the Mothercrystal, the Star's will. Blessed to be able to do myriad things, but most pertinently to her new employers, blessed to be able to slay Primals without fear of their mind-warping influence.

Shio, her head full of tales of great heroes and Kami slaying Oni, accepts this duty. She agrees to be the Primal-slayer of this organisation.

In her mind, they are just reflections of Kami, and Hydaelyn herself is just the Kami of the Star - the Kami are in all so why would the Star be an exception?

Laying low the Lord of Flames and Lord of the Crags is a simple enough pair of tasks. They even let her meet some new people - and serve as her introduction to the term "beast tribe", from the lips of leaders and employers alike.

Am I a beast? the Kojin wonders.

Upon returning to the Waking Sands, however, Shio's life changes. The acrid smell of blood. The sight of bodies, strewn. And one person, who would not be there if Shio had not convinced them...

Noraxia dies in Shio's arms, and part of Shio dies with her.

Receiving orders from what remains of the Scions, Shio picks up the pieces as best she can. This isn't her job, but she understands. The organisation is in shambles. She fights the Garleans. Rescues the other Scions. Expects to be put back to work fighting Kami, or wished well and sent on her way.

"Lay siege to Castrum Meridianum."

This... isn't what she was hired for. But she grits her teeth. She sees the logic of it. She fights through the stronghold. She destroys the Ultima Weapon, strikes the Black Wolf down.

Is slain by the Ascian Paragon. Is dragged back from Yomi by Hydaelyn.

Maybe, she thinks, when I put this pyromancer to rest, I will be allowed to return to adventure. To exploring. To being myself, instead of this... thug, that the job I so foolishly took is turning me into.

Pulling one of her employers' bodies from the wreckage, she prays that she will get to return to who she is.

She will not get to for a long time.

She does not know it, but she just turned sixteen.

#ffxiv #shio shinju #ffxiv writing #sorry for my answer taking the form of a story #but i feel like it captured the essence of the response better than #yes #all of it