re: words are wind


i wasn’t even going to acknowledge it…is it really something to be proud of? yep, there’s 2,000 quotes related to one of the finest stories ever written (with me succumbing to the tv version of events on occasion, i admit). so to celebrate, i thought i’d post a selfie (HEH! yeah, this place really exists!) with a fine choice of words…and now, i’m going back to bed to hide under my comforter for a long, hard reflection about my life choices. lol…cheers, darlings…i hope you’ve found at least a few of them enjoyable/enlightening/funny/heartbreaking…i know i have…thanks for indulging me and sticking around, i’ve got the best people hanging around here–> YOU.

one of the things i love most about asoiaf is that you can talk about spoilers around people who haven’t read the books and it’s okay because they’re so ridiculous that no one will take you seriously

  • “he’s slowly turning into an evil tree”
  • “she’s infiltrating the castle dressed as a nun”
  • “he died, but it’s okay because his soul lives on in his dog”
  • “she was pushed off a mountain by an accountant”
  • “he’s really bummed because his friend switched his girlfriend’s baby with a different baby and she’s sad about it”
  • “he spends three chapters slowly burning to death”
  • “she destroys the wizard palace by stabbing it”
  • “at first he’s mad at his girlfriend for using his sperm to murder his brother without his consent but now he’s decided that’s a useful power”
  • “she helps murder the king by wearing poison in her hair to a feast”
  • “he died trying to play a magic trumpet”


it’s cliche for a story to start with

violation – the demolition of an

innocence, a dissonance with justice,

but sometimes beginning with a cliche is a must.

sometimes girl is crushed, dirty

handed, hair mussed, a heart topped

full of fear and mistrust, sometimes

girl was never girl in the first place.

so here is my advice – soul to soul,

the world may bowl you over, but

that doesn’t mean you have to let it win,

no one can stop you from crafting new skin.

become a myth; caeneus emerged from his

unbowed, unbroken, unsubmerged in agony,

the shame of his cliche washed away with the sea

girl made man, a whole new harmony.

through a cacophony of violence, visceral

and vile – caeneus found his own autonomy,

his freedom was fierce, fast-tracked by the gods,

his skin forged from iron and ichor, impenetrable.

become a myth, and so shall yours be.

  • other villains origin stories: betrayal, heartbreak, death, sorrow and suffering.
  • my villain origin story: In her final years on Pyke, Lady Alannys could not sleep. She would wander the halls at night with a candle, looking for her sons. “Maron?” she would call shrilly. “Rodrik, where are you? Theon, my baby, come to Mother.” Many a time Asha had watched the maester draw splinters from her mother’s heels of a morning, after she had crossed the swaying plank bridge to the Sea Tower on bare feet.
last sentence meme

surprisingly tagged by the perpetually kind @asimplylucia​. thank you, darling, i didn’t think anyone really noticed my poems. (honestly)

Rules: Post the last sentence you wrote (fanfic/original/anything!) and tag as many people as there are words in the sentence.

“Baptism by fire, she thought to herself, as she dunked her head in a bucket of whiskey and struck a match.”

i know this has been going around for a while and i’m not sure who hasn’t been tagged by now…so if you want to play, then play…

The Wind in the Trees is Like the Waves of Yesteryears Sea

The wind in the trees
is tranquil, lapping
against the tree-line –
an oceanic quality
insistent, reminiscent

– leaves like a million
  pebbles shifting
  on the ridge
  above dark sands –

and in the stillness
of my room
my mind turns to
yesteryear’s sea
that once I walked
upon the edge of.

© R.J. Davey 2017

It Was The Night: 2

Author’s Note: welcome to part 2! again, please note this is not meant to be historically accurate lmao i cant seem to stress this enough
Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader (oc; female)
Genre: drama; historical au; romance; suspense
Rating (this chapter): PG
Word Count: 1,722


It has never escaped my attention that Monsieur Park had, from the time I was child, better perceptions of my future and interests than I have ever been able to decipher. From the moment he saw me, singing to God and to the mass, he seemed to know me, seemed to see inside my soul, or, perhaps, heard my soul, and divined my needs before I could voice them.

Keep reading

Here and there a torch burned hungrily, casting its ruddy glow over the faces of the wedding guests.
The way the mists threw back the shifting light made their features seem bestial, half-human, twisted. Lord Stout became a mastiff, old Lord Locke a vulture, Whoresbane Umber a gargoyle, Big Walder Frey a fox, Little Walder a red bull, lacking only a ring for his nose. Roose Bolton’s own face was a pale grey mask, with two chips of dirty ice where his eyes should be.
Above their heads the trees were full of ravens, their feathers fluffed as they hunched on bare brown branches, staring down at the pageantry below. Maester Luwin’s birds. Luwin was dead, and his maester’s tower had been put to the torch, yet the ravens lingered. This is their home. Theon wondered what that would be like, to have a home.
—  The Prince of Winterfell, A Dance with Dragons.
12:30 AM | YoonKook AU | Chapter 1

Where Jungkook is just a college boy who loves to party, and Yoongi works a late night job and hates the world. 

What happens when Jungkook walks into the convenience store during one of his drunken nights and Yoongi just happens to be working? It’s simple. Yoongi hates him. 

warnings: Bad language, drugs, smut (eventually, maybe), violence.

A/N: This is something I never thought I myself would end up writing to be completely honest, but I thought I would try it, this could be the only fic I do like this, but let’s see how this goes. 

I don’t feel too confident in the writing and editing here, but I feel like this is the best I can do, but if I continue then I will try harder!

forgive me if this doesn’t go well or to plan, I of course have another piece of work you could try :)

Word count: 3.1K

Originally posted by fairybcby

Originally posted by irrational-obsessions-gottcha78

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ask-leona  asked:

You’re Mine

Her words cut through the winds of Targon, almost as much as the spear cut through his chest. Blood pooled from the warriors form. Any mortal man had been dead soon after the spear struck. Her aim was true, honed by years of service and combat. But he was no mortal man he was the god of war upon this world. That did not diminish the searing pain that jolted through his body as the amazon asserted her dominance. 

Little left his cold lips but groans and grunts of pain as she held her grip true upon him. There was a cold sense of pride in the fact that it had been her to best him. But he had been bested none the less, at his own game. The anger of his own defeat boiled in his chest mending the flesh as he drew strength from his own agony. 

I think about Theon and Winterfell: how this home of Stark was a cage at first, a cold and foreign place that did not want him. He had to wear gold and black inside her walls, not Stark grey.
I think of the uncanny attraction Winterfell has. How it lingers in Theon’s heart. A warm home for the Winters to come. Which city could hope to resist the freezing winds and all the invasions?
Speaking of which….what a feat for the unwanted son of Winterfell, for the stranger they aspired to tame, to conquer the unbreakable Winterfell. Oh, how short lived was that childish, selfish joy as the very walls of Winterfell rejected him.
They too seemed to hate him, just like the statues of Old Stark ancestors he dared not look in the eyes. I think about Winterfell, collapsing with Theon. I think about Winterfell, the place where he is named again - a lost boy of the Islands, finding courage in the Godswood of Stark. I think of Winterfell… Almost welcoming. Almost home.

anonymous asked:

So I'm thinking about writing somethin for a practically nonexistent fandom/pairing cause I feel it needs content, but I'm not really a writer and I don't really know how to get past the outline stage to the Just Fucking Post It stage. Any advice?

words on the page, my dude.  i think it’s nanowrimo that says it best: quantity over quality.  it sounds like terrible advice, but just getting words on the page is where you start.  maybe they’re garbage words and you’ll wind up deleting them, but you gotta start somewhere.  even if you hate the words on the page, you still now know one iteration of how you don’t want them be on the page.  move on to the next iteration.  it’ll take less time than you think to find the one that works and then more after that and then you’ll have something you can post!

and props to you, btw, for creating content for a minor pairing!  be the change etc etc.  a+ all around.

awolfofgold  asked:

"You're so sexy when you're hot and bothered."


“You think I am always sexy, clothes on or clothes off, hot, cold, anything between. “Nedra giggled and waited at him on the bed. “I’d be sexy even with messy hair and mud on my face” She stretched a bit and looked at him with hooded gaze “ But what are you going to do about it, about my hot and bothered state?”