#I hurt my own feelings here

[trickthekick]

WAIT, I figured out why Euclid is extra amazing as a song. Euclid was a Greek mathematician and the first person to essentially set the base for symmetry. "Yet in reverse you were all my symmetry, a parallel I would lay my life on." Vessel realised that they were symbolically two parallel lines, and that their lives would never intersect in the way he desired them too. They would never work out

[bloodofthefates]

x. continued from here with @therogueprincedaemon

      Blood boiled, heart pounded in her chest and a faint ringing echoed in her ears as she stormed through the castle halls toward her chambers. Iseult’s vision tunneled into seeing nothing at all, jaw clenching into solid stone as she made her way into her room not so much as dignifying Daemon with a single look over her shoulder as she barreled toward the nearest canter of alcohol. He made the mistake of getting too close, where he demanded an answer Iseult demanded space and instead the flat of her palms met resistance against his chest and she shoved hard with more strength than either of them realized she possessed in the moment. She had not asked him to follow her here but once the fraying threads of what little control she possessed over her anger were undone, the rest of her fury was unleashed upon Daemon through the violence of formed fists. He caught her wrists easily enough, but not without a fight as she gritted her teeth and tried to pry them free of his grasp with an aggravated groan. He may as well have been chiding or scolding a petulant child for all it did, her behavior not only juvenile but wildly out of her character. Words had left her long ago standing in the gathering hall left feeling like a fool and humiliated as she’d been forced to bear witness to the Lady Laena’s recount of her husband’s renewed efforts to sire a child to her ladies with full knowledge of not only Iseult’s proximity to their blathering circle but well aware of the attachment that seemed to be forming as a deeper connection between the Prince and his Seer whether either of them had yet to admit it or not. Iseult had taken her leave when Daemon had entered the hall, his gaze searching first for his wife followed by the subtle smirk of satisfaction Laena sported in Iseult’s direction when he’d paid no attention to her at all. It wasn’t logic or understanding that fueled her now, but jealousy and passion. As Daemon’s advisor and her role at court as his Seer she had no place to feel any importance or claim to him and yet Laena had managed to make her feel worth less than even a common whore on the Street of Silk. Iseult very nearly growled with rage and effort fighting against his hold but even from her own rage and ensuing struggle her cheeks were streaked red and left her nearly breathless from exertion. She stilled in his hold, feeling the intensity of his eyes boring into her until she finally looked up to meet him with all the hatred in her being she could muster delivered through the darkness of her eyes. “So what if I am?” Her voice came out raspy and jagged, the anger she felt still fighting against her to remain bottled within. Iseult used to understand their roles; she knew the rules and boundaries they’d firmly put into place and yet over time the lines began to blur or disappear altogether and she was left confused with her head at war with her heart. Curling her hands into fists, she tore her hands away just as he pushed her away only allowing her to catch herself a moment later and recoil from the sudden distance he put between them. “And you dare to look me in the eye and tell me it is only out of duty you keep her company all hours of the morning?” She shouted back at him, pointing an accusatory finger in his direction. “And if I allowed it? For you to have me in the way you desire, that I wouldn’t be fucked like one of your whores only to return to your pretty little wife?!” She spat out, laughing and mocking him with bitterness as she shook her head. “Then fuck her from behind as animals do if breeding is required to secure your heirs. But I will not be forced to hear again from her lips of your visits to her bed. I have forgotten no oath My Lord… have you?” She steeled herself, feeling her resolve crumbling as tears of anger and hurt welled in her eyes, punctuated now by his returned sentiment with a finger pointed in her direction and a clear threat before he stormed out. Iseult grabbed the nearest thing, a cup from the table and followed in the direction of his exit only to throw it after him and hit the closed door with no satisfaction as wine bled down the wood and pooled on the floor with the clatter of the cup. Left alone in the quiet of her room, she had half a mind to follow after him on the last legs of her anger but her better sense was beginning to settle in again as the tears began to fall and quickly turned to sobs that tore at the center of her gut as she reached out a hand to the table nearest her to steady herself and hold the back of her hand to her mouth in attempt to dampen the sounds hitching in her throat. 

[chauvesourisnoire]

❛  do you wish i was different? ❜  from @failedcrown​​​  ⤵ 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝 // still accepting

Daybreak is coming, and soon he’ll have to meld back into what’s left of the shadows, change back into Bruce and not the bat. This transformation always takes place in the wan sunlight filtering through the parted curtains of his bedroom, bruises and bloodied marks exposed before they’re tucked away beneath old t-shirts and then later button downs and suit jackets. 

They don’t have much time left as the sun breaks the horizon, and Batman glances over at her. The first rays of sun make her hair fiery, her pale skin glow and armor gleam. Pain is silently etched into her fair features, and it’s the first time he’s seen it: something aching beneath the façade. 

“I do,” he relents, but it’s with no edge or malice, only a solemn resignation to the truth. “I wish you lived up to the stories that were told. Not just being brave when you’re told to. But when it’s right to. Difficult to.” A muscle flexes in his jaw, a bit of tension flooding away. He desperately needs her help, but there’s nothing more he can do if she won’t stand against Vought. 

“But there’s still time for that if you want to change things, Maeve.” He meets her gaze evenly then. “And you know where to find me if you do.”