Open Prompt Sent By @artereis / Podrick I Hope That Youre Okay .

🪐 —open prompt  sent by  @artereis​  / podrick               ❛  i  hope  that  you’re  okay . ❜

                    SHE SHOULD HAVE BEEN ELATED. everything her family had worked for since the day she’d been born was finally within their grasp. after two failed attempts at making a strategically beneficial match for her, at last margaery had secured a betrothal to the eldest son of the royal family. she would be queen; it was her grandmother’s dream realized. but in spite of her family’s undeniable victory, there was a heavy weight that had settled in her stomach, a sense of dread that only grew more  &  more intense as her wedding date approached.  &  when podrick was standing before her, it became almost overwhelming. her breath caught in her throat  &  margaery began to despair  —  how could she marry another when her very heart felt as though it was trying to burst from her chest whenever podrick was nearby ?                                                                              but it was not her choice to make; this was her duty to her family. her head held high in resolve, her lips curl into a well-practiced smile, though in her chest her heart is split open  &  aching. ❝ of course. it’s my honor to be of service to my family  &  to the kingdom. ❞  it wasn’t truly an answer to his question,  &  margaery hopes that it goes unnoticed —  or does she want him to notice the false note in her voice, that somehow he will hear the truth behind her carefully measured words ? even she cannot say for what she hopes.

🪐 —open prompt  sent by  @immobiliter​  /  robin                        ❛ wish i didn’t care .❜

      TOWNS LIKE HAWKINS COULD FEEL LIKE A CAGE  for those who didn’t easily  fit into the established mold. birdie knew far too well the uncomfortable sensation of not belonging in a close-knit community like this one.  &  folks around small towns could be mean to anyone who was the slightest bit different  — especially high school kids. it was one of the reasons that she kept the art room door open during her lunch period: any of her students were welcome to come in  &  eat with her if they couldn’t brave the cafeteria for any reason, or if they just didn’t have anyone else to sit with.                                           robin had been taking her up the offer more often lately. birdie didn’t mind; she was grateful for the company, in fact. even if robin didn’t want to talk about it, it was just nice not to eat alone. but she also can’t help but worry about her student.  &  birdie doesn’t really know what to say  — doesn’t want to push her to talk about it — but she wants to help, however she can. ❝ it’s not always a bad thing to care, ❞  she says, her eyes downcast as she slices an apple into neat eighths.  ❝ but you’ve also gotta remember for your own sake that not everyone’s opinion is worth listening to. ❞

🪐 — james barnes​ ;

there’s sense in this, a truth he understands about fighting, about the weight of a gun in his hand. his lungs feel easier now, though he knows the heaviness that will set in later; the road to redemption was always paved in blood.          ❛    that’s always the way this goes, or have you forgotten that part?   ❜

      SHE HASN’T FORGOTTEN, but the rush of adrenaline never really went away, no matter how long she’d been in their line of work.  ❝  just making sure you’re not getting too cocky, ❞  nymeria quips back, her voice soft. her own weapon is ready  &  loaded at her side, comforting in its familiarity. it’s time — their window of opportunity is closing, the target set to be passing by their post only briefly.  ❝ you ready ? ❞

hello i just think you should be aware that you are one of the kindest, and most amazing presences in my life and i am so happy that i am permitted to call yu my friend. i love you bye x

kenna i love you so much ! you are one of the most patient & kind & funny & talented people i have had the privilege of getting to know here on this platform & i love you with all my heart ! i'm so so grateful to have you as my friend, to write things with you, to develop incredibly soft dynamics with you that bring me to tears, & just to be able to talk with you about life. i appreciate you so so so much. thank you for being you, & please make sure you have a wonderful birthday week — you deserve it !

🪐 — lucius spriggs​ ;

the thing is,   izzy is not as scary as he thinks he is.  sure,  lucius wouldn’t want to be at the receiving end of his sword because that would end up horrendously bad for him,  but this?  oh,  he knows he has the higher ground in this.  so the boy shrugs off the trademark abrasive tone coming from the other man,  even avoids spitting back a caustic no shit and sits down on a little stool he has found nearby.  because this isn’t like last time, right?  this isn’t a fight.  not that lucius has any idea what this even is.  a truce,  maybe? possibly.   

❛  of course i don’t.  and listen, that’s between the two of you.  but,  do you really think glaring from afar is going to do you any favours?  how’s that going for you so far?  ❜   he follows his gaze to where stede and blackbeard are busy looking at each other,  oblivious to the world around them  (   lucius thinks it’s cute,  though he wisely keeps it to himself   ),  and well.  his tone softens a bit when he looks back at izzy.   ❛  what are you afraid of?  ❜   he wonders if this is pushing it too far,  if he hasn’t just crossed some precarious boundary with voicing that question out loud,  but he does nothing to take it back. 

       HE KNOWS HE’S LOST IT ALL when lucius sits down beside him, as casual as anything. like he’s about to give izzy a heart-to-heart — like they’re sodding friends or something. whatever sense of authority he’d had  ( or hoped to have )  over the crew, it was clear that it was all well  &  gone now.  &  izzy curses under his breath, his gloved hand clenching in anger. he almost wants to reach for his sword to shut the boy up, but his captains would likely reprimand him grievously for such an outburst. he’s trapped, nowhere to run, nothing he can do except listen.                                                                                         &  though it infuriates him to admit it, lucius has a point. his sulking is unlikely to lend any change to the situation, &  izzy isn’t sure how much longer he can take an existence of slinking about the ship trying to avoid too close contact with the golden glow that seems to surround ed  &  stede whenever they are together. he glares at lucius, his teeth grinding, bristling again at the gentler tone he takes. perhaps izzy couldn’t be feared any longer, but he still refused to allow himself to be pitied. ❝ i’m not afraid, ❞ he growls, seething, tearing his eyes away from his captains with some effort. ❝ i’m just... i’m not like that twat bonnet — &  i’m not like you. i can’t — it’s not — ❞ words fail him, as they so often do,  &  izzy curses himself again for his weakness, for his shame, for his inability to throw either lucius or himself over the railing  &  be done with this ridiculous conversation once  &  for all. ❝ that, whatever it is that they have — ❞  he says, gesturing vaguely astern. but his eyes remain fixed out on the sea, unable to look at edward or lucius as he speaks. ❝ — it isn’t meant for the likes of me. ❞

🪐 — jon snow​ :

he  traces  the  ugly  rugged  scar  across  his  now - beating  heart,  while  grey  eyes  gaze  deep  into  the  fire.  the  memory  of  sharp  steel  plunges  into  his  skin;  warm  blood  smoking  in  icy  air.    why  me  ?  he  asks,  for  the  thousandth  time.    his  brother  died  at  a  wedding  feast  —  and  now  his  bones  lay  with  his  wolf’s  corpse  at  the  bottom  of  the  river  (  if  the  tales  were  true  ).      i  could  have  gone  to  join  him,  and  ygritte,  and  our  father.  and  yet  .  .  .               coming  back  to  this  world  is  his  destiny  —  and  his  curse.    the  gods  were  seldom  good. gentle  rap  at  the  door  causes  him  to  startle,  feet  hitting  the  floor  before  he  stands  upright.  in  the  corner,  ghost’s  red  eyes  gaze  out;  watchful,  but  seemingly  unthreatened.     the  red  woman  is  strikingly  lovely  and  ethereal,  but  jon  still  does  not  know  what  to  make  of  her,  or  her  abilities.    he  holds  to  the  old  gods  of  his  father,  yet  her  lord  of  light  seems  to  have  the  power  of  life  and  death.  for  what  cause  did  she  bring  him  back  in  the  first  place  ?  he  inhales,  swallows.     ❝  well  enough,  ❞    voice  scrapes  through  an  unpracticed  throat.    the  former  commander  gestures  broadly  to  the  tankard  of  spiced  wine  on  the  table.        ❝  i  can’t  decide  .  .  .  whether  i  wish  it  were  otherwise.  ❞

       SCARLET EYES OBSERVE HIM CLOSELY,  for even the most devout of r’hllor’s servants could still find themselves surprised at his power. nothing was impossible for her god, for life  &  death alike were his alone to bestow. this she knew, &  yet, melisandre still found herself in awe of the closed wound on jon’s chest, the warm tint of blood in his cheeks that was an undeniable sign of life.                     ❝  unfortunately, what we wish for means very little, jon snow. ❞  she responds, the ruby at her throat pulsing, scorching her skin when she speaks his name. &  though she smiles politely at his gesture, melisandre ignores the wine he offers. she has little desire for food or drink as of late. ❝ our lives are not our own — we are but tools for the lord of light to use as he deems necessary.  &  it seems that he still has need of you. ❞          a movement in the corner of the room draws her attention,  &  melisandre notices for the first time his wolf’s presence, its crimson eyes tracking her every move. the priestess can tell that it is protective of its master, but the blistering heat of its red gaze upon her is more comforting than threatening. after all, she means jon no harm. if r’hllor had decreed that he should live, she would sooner cast herself into the shadows forever than disobey his will. &  this creature too was part of her god’s design, much like jon himself  — she could see that much in its blazing eyes.                           ❝ still, i do regret that you had no choice in the matter, ❞ melisandre continued as if she had not paused, turning away from the wolf  &  back to jon himself. he was still young, after all,  &  still scarcely more than mortal. she herself could hardly remember what it had felt like to be so young  &  so human; that life given to the flames long ago. ❝ none of us do. ❞