choke on divinity

𝚒𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚗, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚞𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚝.

[unforsakemoved]

archiving and moving to @unforsake.

[unforsakemoved]

archiving and moving to @unforsake.

[unforsakemoved]

archiving and moving to @unforsake.

[unforsakemoved]

archiving and moving to @unforsake.

[unforsakemoved]

archiving and moving to @unforsake.

[unforsakemoved]

archiving and moving to @unforsake.

[unforsakemoved]

archiving and moving to @unforsake.

[unforsakemoved]

archiving and moving to @unforsake.

[unforsakemoved]

my asoiaf muses are alive again so. maybe comment on this post with a muse from the following for a starter: asher forrester, mira forrester, rodrik forrester, willas tyrell, daenerys targaryen, rhaenyra targaryen, sansa stark, robb stark.

additionally, i have originally characters i would love to write and develop, including:

tyana lannister, daughter of kevan lannister. always admired jaime and aspired to become a knight, her father married her off to squash these unrealistic desires. after her husband died of natural causes, she returns to casterly rock and then kings landing, and is freed from her fathers eventual plans to remarry her to someone else by her cousin tyrion, who suggests she go to dorne alongside myrcella. she vows to never return home, and acts as a lady knight against her fathers wishes.

joren snow. bastard son of jorah mormont. he is the product of a brief encounter with one of the kitchen help during his father’s failed marriages, producing no heirs. he is not acknowledged, but it is widely known on bear island that he is jorah’s bastard. when jorah is exiled, and his reputation tarnished, joren’s is as well. he either opts to join the nights watch or exiles himself to essos to avoid scrutiny.

i also have two more ocs in development. tylan lannister ( tyana’s brother ) and melora ( red priestess ).

[pulchral-a-deactivated20230818]

@unforsake​, one-liner starter call: accepting.

“ woods. you look like hammered shit. ”

[unforsakemoved]

“ YEAH? well, you don't look so good yourself there, princess. ” he speaks with a certain callousness that only mason could translate. a low chuckle escapes the back of his throat and he knocks his shoulder against the other man's, a grin tugging at the corners of parted lips. “ good thing they didn't hire us to look good at the end of this. you more than me. i always look good. ”

[pulchral-a-deactivated20230818]

@unforsake​, one-liner starter call: accepting.

“ i panicked, and i mean… i was a total dick. ”

[unforsakemoved]

“ i think we've all done and said things ... we aren't necessarily proud of. it's part of growing, right? ” she has learned to be optimistic. a defense tactic honed through years of highschool bullies and bouncing between two states. regardless, chuck laughs at the thought of it all. how smitten she was with a boy she never talked to, how invisible she felt against a backdrop of hundreds of different girls. “ i can think of so many other people who beat you in the 'total dick' category. one less trophy? ”

[unforsakemoved]

        𝑶𝑯, 𝑯𝑶𝑾 𝑺𝑯𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑹𝑼𝑮𝑮𝑳𝑬𝑫 𝑾𝑰𝑻𝑯 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑸𝑼𝑰𝑬𝑻.   there had been truth in the saying:   you don't know a good thing until it's gone.   but you don't know anything about good when you've been trapped in an abandoned fire watch tower for years, alone and driven out of your mind by the loneliness and deafening silence.   nadia smiled as his words fell upon her ears, almost tickling them in the way a good song used to echo through earbuds.   when was the last time she'd heard another human voice?   let alone, allow herself a chance encounter such as this.   they were safe in her little tower.   none of those monsters moved through this patch of the forest.   she'd assumed it was due to lack of prey, lack of noise, lack of anything worth staying.

   "     𝐢 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞  ...  𝐢 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐯𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭.     "     she speaks and there's an odd feeling that follows.   countless times beforehand, nadia had talked to the wind, hoping for something to bounce words off of, and now she sat with another person.   someone who could respond, someone who could speak aloud too.     "     it's a weird feeling.  very isolating.   but i suppose that's the whole point of all of this, of those things.   what's your name? @murkyhazed     i'm, uh.   my name's nadia, i used to be a park ranger before  ...  everything.   i got stuck up here when everything happened  ...  and never really left.   guess i figured it was safe here, why ruin a good thing?     

[sabrinaacarpenters]

LEO SUTER as HARALD SIGURDSSON Vikings: Valhalla (2022-) 1.03 “The Marshes”

[unforsakemoved]

CAPTAIN LOGAN FLORES - COD: MODERN WARFARE.

[unforsakemoved]

𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍𝚋𝚢𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚏 : 𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚙 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚜.

                    she’s angry,    he can practically feel it radiating off of her.    and maybe,    he should be more bothered by the anger and hurt in her eyes.    but,    he can’t be bothered to care right now.    not when phillip has so much on his plate right now.    if he felt any guilt for what he’s done,    it was drowned by his desire to follow orders.    “  i told you not to take personally,    logan.    it’s nothing personal.    i was following orders    ;    if you did the same,    we wouldn’t be in this situation.  ”

                   “     FOLLOWING ORDERS?   you’re really going to hide behind that?   you shepherd’s bitch or what?     ”      from where she was standing, she couldn’t begin to understand the reasoning behind it all.   they had been given their orders, assist 141 in this mission, stop the usage of these missiles on american soil, take down hassan, do your service.   minus the intricate details, of course.   but this was different, this was a coup, if anything, and their shotcaller was at the forefront of it all.     “   what’s the real truth?   you wouldn’t be in this if you weren’t neck deep in shit, phillip.   they almost killed me out there.    ”

[unforsakemoved]

𝙿𝚄𝙻𝙲𝙷𝚁𝙰𝙻 : 𝙷𝙰𝚁𝚆𝙸𝙽 𝚂𝚃𝚁𝙾𝙽𝙶.

            he knows better than to get too close.  there’s an almost pathetic longing in harwin’s gaze as he finds himself staring at the other,  from the opposite side of the room,  the corners of his eyes wrinkled with fondness.  he knows far,  far worse too.  his presence there,  as a whole,  was object of scrutiny—  of disdain,  mostly.  truth be told,  it irked him greatly.  every glance,  every offhanded comment,  every single ungraceful chortle that drooped from the lips of those foppish bastards served its cause at filling up the metaphorical glass jar of his patience.  truth be told,  it was rhaenyra’s very own soothing words that always managed to empty it.

            ❝ your grace, ❞  my love.  it takes him a good moment to gather up his bearings and head on over,  finally,  to approach her with his hand on his weapon,  obscured by the gold cloak fashioned over his shoulder.  ❝ i believe i was summoned. ❞  you look radiant,  as always.  ❝ may i be of aid? ❞  i just wanted to see you.

        UNDER THE WATCHFUL GAZE OF THE ENEMY,   a meeting such as this would be enough to cause the most vile of rumor.   the heir to the iron throne, the future protector of the realm.   oh, how her naivety allowed her to imagine a future where she was loved by all!   it is only as the years pass, that she realizes, she has more enemies now than ever.   but none in the man that stands before her, sworn to protect her from harm.   it is her heart that he protects now, her dignity, her reputation.   how unfortunate it is that he is also the source of such scrutiny.

   rhaenyra gives a small nod to the small group of people in her company, and in a moments notice, they seems to disappear into the castle.   it is then, and only then, that the smile pulled across painted lips softens.   if only in the slightest.   hands seem to wring themselves dry.   a gesture of anxiety.          “     i had hoped you would accompany me, on a walk of sorts.   it appears the king and queen have left to attend a feast, leaving me in charge of maintaining a sense of order here.   though, i suppose ... i must admit,   ”   she pauses, gaze slipping away for only the slightest moment.     “   i’ve selfish reasons for calling you here, harwin.   it is few and far between that we are afforded a moment of leisure between us.   no hushed whispers, no secret meetings.   i had hoped that we could walk the gardens in daylight.   ”

[unforsakemoved]

𝙿𝚄𝙻𝙲𝙷𝚁𝙰𝙻 : 𝙱𝙰𝚂𝙸𝙼 𝙸𝙱𝙽 𝙸𝚂𝙷𝙰𝚀.

            ❝ let me see him. ❞  there’s a lightness to basim’s grizzled tone,  a hint of concern that shines on through his tight-lipped debut.  it was foolish of him,  to strike at kjotve while in the heat of battle,  he should’ve known better—  he should’ve calculated the possible outcomes before he leaped,  and acted accordingly.  young,  and inexperienced as he was,  he couldn’t truly blame him.  however,  none of these criticisms are externalized,  as a hand reaches out for the acolyte,  to grasp at his forearm,  and support him as best as he could.  ❝ i commend you for taking initiative,  hytham. ❞  a thought that is quickly derailed in favor of a more pragmatic approach to the situation at hand.  ❝ i am certain you will recover from this. ❞  someone like him cannot possibly show any signs of uncertainty,  nor ignorance.  it is with a final stare that he grips him tighter,  before letting go of the fabric.  ❝ heal,  and we’ll discuss what transpired first thing in the morning. ❞

         THERE IS A GROWING, UNSPOKEN TENSION BETWEEN THEM.   their travels in this foreign land have led them into the hands of the raven clan.   sigurd had proven his worth countless times, however, eivor was brash ... untamed, and full of wasted potential.   though hytham had not voice his displeasure beyond what was deemed necessary, he silently questioned his mentor’s decisions.   why would they study kjotve for months?   groom him to cull the another member of the order?   only to let a stranger take his life?

  resentment grew in the growing absence of basim in his life.   had he been replaced?   was this meant to be his graduation?   more bitter than sweet?   hytham’s emotions controlled him, fueled his desire to leap in for the kill like a young wolf, teeth bared and ready to fight.   the aftermath was a blur.   the moment he hit the wall, his clarity slipped away, leaving very little to account for beyond the annoying pain that shot up his leg.

   with kjotve gone, the people around them celebrated a victory he did not understand, for their knowledge of the hidden ones and their work was unknown.   the significance of this win was not a shared sentiment, for hytham had not proven himself, and ultimately failed his mission.

 as basim ushers him forward, there is a feeling of guilt that sinks in.   he wonders if he has not only failed his mission, but ultimately ... failed his mentor?   did he look down upon him now?   had he proven eivor the better student?   even as words of assurance are spoken, brows furrow in distinct protest.

                 “     mentor.   i   -   i would rather you speak of your displeasure now, for i will not find any semblance of rest until then.     ”     his head hangs heavy.   defeat is a snake slithering its way into his heart.     “     i know i failed, that i should have allowed eivor their chance at revenge, but that kill was meant to be mine.   you know it, i know it.   i do not pretend to understand why you’ve allowed it to transpire as such.     ”