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livingecho-arch · 1 year
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“ oh dear — it seems the crabs are unionizing . ”
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not-neverland06 · 6 days
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How About a Nuke?
Part VI / Part VII / Part VIII
Series Masterlist
Cooper Howard x fem!reader, The ghoul x fem!reader A/N: @weakling-grace did some fanart for the series that I absolutely adore! And I want you all to look at it. It’s on her blog, or reposted on mine under the tag How about a nuke? Summary: The wound’s infected. It shouldn’t be, but here you are anyway, barely holding on to life. You make it as far as you can and then it’s up to him to decide whether you get to live or die.
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“Have I told you yet that you are the most gorgeous woman in this room?” You couldn’t stop the smile from spreading on your face even if you tried. 
“Only about a dozen times.” His hand reaches for yours across the table and you take it eagerly, linking your fingers together and enjoying the way his hazel eyes linger on yours. You could get lost in them, as cliche as it sounds. You and about every other woman in the world fell in love when you first saw those smiling eyes on the silver screen. 
“I’ll just have to tell you a dozen more.”
God, you would swoon if you could. But, unfortunately, you are in the middle of a very nice restaurant and you’re sure they wouldn’t enjoy your fainting spell. It’s not like you could help it, he was so effortlessly charming, everything he said with that rasping accent of his sounded like music to you. 
Your smile slipped slightly when you caught two women staring at you both. They weren’t even trying to hide it, pointing and whispering behind their hands. You clenched your jaw, trying your best not to let the anger show on your face. But he caught it anyway. 
Cooper dropped your hand and tucked his back in his lap. He sighed and glanced over his shoulder, they caught his eye and gasped, stopping their cruel whispers. You opened your mouth to try and make him feel better but he interrupted you, “Hey-”
“I told you this was gonna happen sweetheart.” You hated how sad he sounded, how resigned he was to his new place in life. It was no secret that most of your fellow actors despised him now just because he did a few ad campaigns for Vault-Tec. But that didn’t mean the rest of the world did. There were still plenty of people who adored Cooper and asked for his autograph. 
Granted, those ladies clearly weren’t fans, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care if you got spotted together in public and rumors started up again. You didn’t care what that meant about future roles. “I want to be with you, Coop, but I can’t keep having this same conversation over and over again.” You sighed and finally drew your hand back to yourself, he tracked the movement like a hawk. 
“If this is too much,” you forced yourself to swallow past the lump in your throat and put on a stilted smile. “If being with me in the public eye is too much then maybe we should-”
“Enough,” he reached back over and forced his hand into yours. “I’m sorry, I’m just worried about you.” He stopped you before you could interrupt him, giving you a knowing smile. “I know that you don’t care what being around me does to your career, but I do. There’s no reason for the both of us to be washed up celebrities.”
“Hey, you’re not washed up, plenty of people still want to see you on the silver screen.”
He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. He squeezed your hand once before letting go and picking up his fork, “Let’s just enjoy our meal, sweetheart.”
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“Pick up the pace! I’m not gonna wait for you forever, sweetheart.”
You glared at him and leaned on a tree for support. You’re not sure what’s going on. You feel hot under your skin but also like you’re freezing, you’d thrown up twice during night watch and you’re about five seconds away from keeling over. 
Your sweaty palm slips against the bark and you go sliding over. You hear his boots stomping through the grass before they stop in front of you. Rough hands steady your shoulders and shove you upright again. His eyes rove across your face, the muscles above his eyes turning down in concern. 
“Shit, you look like,” he trailed off, “well, to be perfectly honest you look like shit.”
You laughed but it came out strangled and he flinched back in disgust when you started coughing. “Good to know you’re still a gentleman, Cooper.” 
He sighed and led you over to a rotted log. You threw yourself down on it, wincing as it jarred your sensitive stomach. The gash was aching a lot more than it should. 
When you’d been shot, you could barely even feel it by this point. Now the wound was burning, itching so bad you just wanted to rip the stitches out with your bare hands. Your head rolls back and you clench your eyes shut as another wave of nausea goes through you. You could feel your heartbeat in your throat, rattling like a hummingbird in a cage. 
He kneels in front of you and reaches for your shirt. You lean back on your hands to give him better access. “Stimpak should have worked by now,” he mutters. He pulls your shirt higher up on your abdomen and hisses through his teeth. 
“What is it?” Your tongue is glued to the roof of your mouth and the words come out garbled. 
“Shit!” He yanks your shirt down and reaches for your bag, digging through it until he finds another one of the Stimpaks you’d taken. 
You’d be more panicked if your head wasn’t floating right now. “What is it?” He doesn’t answer you, he hovers the injector over his mouth and lets the medicine shoot in. You wince when he immediately turns to spit it into the grass. 
He wipes the back of his mouth and chuckles. “Should’ve fucking known,” he mutters. He goes through the rest of the supplies you’d grabbed and starts chucking them further into the forest. 
You’re getting pissed off now. Pissed off and worried, you just needed him to talk to you, tell you what’s going on. “Cooper!” You snap, hand clutched over the burning wound on your stomach. He sighs and looks up at you. “Tell me what’s happening.”
“Fakes,” he says, mouth set in a firm line and eyes hard against your worried gaze. “See, darlin’, some people like the men we met last night hand out fake supplies.” If you weren’t so worried you’d be mad about how condescending he sounds. 
“They take empty injectors and fill ‘em with chems to keep people sick and coming back to them. It’s a steady income,” he says, like it’s a respectable career. “Your wound is infected, probably only worsened by whatever chem they put in the Stimpak I stuck you with.”
Your eyes are wide with horror. You can’t decide what’s worse, that you’ve essentially been poisoned and are probably experiencing sepsis right now. Or that people were capable of being so cruel and profited off of it. He pulls your canteen out of your bag and unscrews the cap. He holds the water up to your nose, “Sniff.” You do and he waves his hand, prompting you to tell him what exactly you smelled. 
“Smells like metal,” you shrug, not sure what that means. 
“Infected and you’ve got rad poisoning.” At your confused glance he continues, “Water’s not purified either, sweetheart. Whatever you got is about to get a hundred times worse.” When he turns his back to put the water back in your bag you finally risk a glance down at your stomach. 
You wished you hadn’t because you’re immediately bending over to throw up what was left of your rations. The skin has swelled over the stitches, practically swallowing the black thread. The place the knife went in is red and puckered, pus forming at the corners. The sides of your stomach have an odd green tint that you’re trying not to think about too hard, most likely a side effect of whatever chem you’d been dosed with. 
He presses the canteen into your hand and you shake your head from where it is between your knees. “Can’t, radiation.”
He laughs, the sound unkind, “It’s a bit late for that, honey.” You snatch the water out of his hand and gulp down as much as you can stomach. It’s not much, the taste of the water is too metallic and bitter for you. “The place we’re going, they’ve got medicine. We get you there and I’m sure I can work something out with them.”
You know what that really means. He’ll get paid for his bounty and then he’ll get what he wants, whether they offer it freely or not. “If I get there,” you mutter, still holding back the rest of your breakfast. 
“Enough,” he snaps. His hand wraps around your elbow and he yanks you to your feet. “We need to get a move on, power through.” If you had the strength, you’d slap him again. 
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“Here you go,” he placed a bowl down on the coffee table, steam still wisping over the edge. He sat down beside you on your couch and brushed some hair away from your face and you leaned into the warmth of his palm. You were freezing but he seemed to think you were burning up. 
“Did you make me soup?” Your voice is groggy with sleep. He helps you into a sitting position and hands you the bowl. 
“No,” he laughs a little and leans back against the cushions, arm spreading out behind you and pulling you into him. “But I warmed it up for you.”
“Cooper,” you whisper. 
“Get a move on!” He shouts from a couple yards ahead. “You either move your ass or I’ll leave you here, because I’m sure as shit not carrying you.”
Oh shit. 
Hallucinating is never a good sign. You would swear on everything above that you were just on your couch with Cooper. You could still feel the warmth of the bowl in your hands, the old plush fabric of your couch on your cheeks. 
You swallowed down bile and did your best to catch up to him. You blinked a few times, trying to get rid of the fog over your eyes, but it didn’t help much. It took you a minute to realize it was from the sweat dripping down your brow and burning against your retinas that was causing the problem. 
You glanced around, surprised to find yourself surrounded by sand. Weren’t you just in the forest? You lifted a shaking hand to try and get rid of the glare of the sun. He was walking closer to you now, keeping a keener eye on you. You trip over your own feet for the inth time and try to keep pushing yourself. 
“Any chance we could dim those?” You squint and point up to the lights hanging above the set and one of the PA’s runs off to fulfill your request. You shake your boots out, tired of all the sand that’s been getting in them. You understand you’re meant to be chasing an outlaw through the “Wild West” but this is getting ridiculous. 
You’ve done about a hundred retakes of this scene, you’re not sure when the director is going to admit defeat but you hope it’s soon. You don’t know why the studio is even bothering to do cowboy stuff anymore. Everyone knows since Coop was forced out of the industry no one’s wanted to see these types of movies. 
The actor you’re working with this time is a dick. He’s commanding and rude, he’s got no sense of boundaries either. Or a nose. 
What the fuck?
He stands over top of you and you finally realize that you’ve collapsed into the sand. You let your head fall back and rub your forehead. One second you’re on a set and the next you’re in the Wastelands at the end of the world. You’re struggling to remember which version of reality is real and which isn’t. 
“I mean it,” he threatens, “I ain’t carrying you.” Your hand flops uselessly to your side, muscles fatigued and the burning in your gut sucking the energy out of you. The only part of yourself you’re physically aware of is the stab, you can’t feel anything else. You can’t twitch your toes or wiggle your fingers, everything is off kilter. “Alright then,” he leans down and yanks your arm over his shoulder. 
Before you’re processing what’s happening the world is being tilted on its axis and you’re being hauled to your feet. You don’t remember much about traveling through the sands. Everything is one long blur of red and orange. When the air in front of you starts to get wavy your eyes lose focus and you black out.
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She nearly made it. They’re only about an hour away from this compound he’s been trying to get her to. He sighs, looking down at her prone form in the sand. There’s sweat beading along her forehead, her lips are cracked and split and her face has an unusual tint to it that can’t mean anything healthy. 
He squats down next to her and debates how he wants to go about this. The wound on her stomach has only gotten worse since they started walking, it’s just looking angrier and angrier. With how infected it is, it’s possible that even a stimpak might not help her now. 
He could leave her here, get the bounty, and go on his merry way. He could shoot her, put her out of her misery and leave. Or he could throw her over his shoulder and walk the last hour to the compound, hoping that whatever they have there will help. No matter what choice he makes, it’s her life in his hands. 
His hand drifts forward, brushing the hair off her cheek and lingering on the soft skin there. He sighs before scooping her up and tossing her over his shoulder, she whines, her wound rubbing against his shoulder and probably causing her a heap of pain. It didn’t matter how much it hurt, though, as long as she was feeling something that was a good sign. 
“Nearly there, sweetheart,”; he muttered. He tuned into her shallow breathing, the long pauses before her next breath and let that be what keeps him going. She better not fucking die on him. He grunts, shifting her higher up on his shoulder and wrapping an arm around her legs. 
He could feel how hot she was through each layer of their clothing. This was more than just the sun, she seemed like she was about to combust. “Cooper,” she whimpers. He frowns, she’s been muttering to herself since they left the forest. Talking about things that weren’t possible. 
He’s seen it before, with infection or rad poisoning, the hallucinations start pretty early. Only problem is, he’s never met anyone who lasted as long as her. She should have been dead hours ago. He has no idea what’s keeping her going, but she better fucking hold onto it. 
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You laughed, your dress swirling around your legs like a blooming red flower as he spun you through the room. His hand wrapped around your waist and he pulled you back into his chest. You smiled at him and he reached up to brush the hair out of your face. 
Sinatra’s smooth voice cracked and then began to stutter. You laughed again but Cooper just rolled his eyes and walked over to fix the record. You smoothed out your dress and sat down on his couch, reaching for his glass of whiskey on the table. 
You took a sip, hoping for some liquid courage, and regretted it. You’d momentarily forgotten your distaste for alcohol. You tried to fight the tickle in your throat but failed, you probably ruined your lipstick with how hard you started to cough. 
He walked over to you and chuckled, taking his glass from your hands and stealing a swig. “Can’t handle your liquor, honey?”
“I can,” you wiped your mouth and gave him a playful glare. “That just tastes absolutely disgusting.” He smiled and took a seat beside you, arm draped behind you. He crossed a leg over his knee and titled himself to face you. You found yourself taking a deep breath, trying to prepare yourself for the question you were going to ask.
“Everything alright?”
You glanced down at your dress and fiddled with the hem of it. “I know the divorce was finalized a few days ago,” Cooper looked away from you, his face hardening, and reached forward to place his glass back on the table. Your heart leapt into your throat at the way he slammed it down. Maybe this was a mistake. 
You know when Barb came over to pick up Janey yesterday they’d gotten into a fight. You didn’t know what exactly it was they fought about, you’re pretty sure it had to do with you. But it didn’t truly matter. She always found a way to rile him up. You’d been hoping that coming by tonight might make him feel a little better,  but he still seemed to have a residual tenseness to him. 
Bringing the divorce up after one of their fights isn’t smart. But you need to talk about this and he’s been avoiding the conversation for a while now. 
He ran a hand down his face and sighed, “What about it?” 
“I was just wondering what that means for us?”
He scoffed and glanced over at you. The look he’s giving you, you’re certain the fight was about you now. He’s never looked this angry with you, “For us?” You nodded and he shook his head, standing up and heading towards his room. “It doesn’t mean anything.” Your heart stuttered in your chest, eyes burning as he slammed the door to his room without another word. You let your head fall into your hands and took a few deep breaths. You knew you shouldn’t have asked that. 
“That was a mistake,” you muttered. 
“The hell are you telling yourself back there?” Your eyes peeled open and you frowned, you seemed to be looking at something that looked a hell of a lot like Cooper’s backside. You tilted your head to the side to find the world upside down and something stabbing repeatedly in your stomach. 
You clawed your way up Cooper’s jacket, shakily holding yourself up so you could stare down at him. “Settle,” he warns, like you’re a damn horse. 
“Put me down,” you mutter, weakly kicking out your feet and trying to get off of him. He just shakes his head and shoves you back down. You let him, not having much fight left in you anyway. 
“Just,” he pauses, “keep dreamin’,” the words seem to pain him and you wonder why. You don’t linger on it long, letting your head hang against his back before the world is going dark again. 
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She keeps muttering Cooper in her sleep. He knows what she’s thinking about. Their old times together, when everything was just dandy and the world was as sweet as peaches. Well, he wasn’t some saint back then neither. He had his own problems, vices, same as any man. 
Only difference between then and now is that he doesn’t have to hide who he is. Doesn’t have to worry about the public’s opinion or how his job will be affected if he speaks his mind. Cooper’s no better than the Ghoul. 
He sighs, barely even believing himself. She whimpers in her sleep, the noise strangled and pained. He squeezes her leg, barely even noticing the action, in an attempt to bring some minute form of comfort. She never should have dived in front of that blade, it was stupid of her. 
Course, she couldn’t have known that he would have healed, it’s not like he ever told her that. But she shouldn’t have risked it anyway, he wasn’t worth her dying for.
He can see a large building about a mile ahead as he crests the ridge of the dune he’s walking on. The compound, nearly there. “Hold on,” he’s not sure who he’s talking to but it doesn’t matter. She’s made it this far, she’ll make it a few more minutes.
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“Stop right there!” Only one armed guard comes out from behind the gate of the compound. He scoffs, fucking amateurs. He drops her to the ground at his feet with as much care as he can, which isn’t a lot. Slowly, he raises his hands as the guard approaches, the tip of his rifle pressing into the hardened skin of his chest. “State your business.”
Well, someone liked making themself feel important, he was gonna have a field day beating this boy black and blue. For now, he simply smiled at him, unbothered by the gun. “I’ve got a bounty to deliver.”
“Alright, hand it over.” He reached into his pockets and the boy’s trigger finger twitched dangerously. He pulled out the only thing they’d wanted from the body, dog tags, and held them out for the boy to take. He darted forward, trying to snatch them but he yanked them out of the guard’s grip. 
He lunged, wrapping a hand around the barrel of the rifle and yanking it out of the kid’s hands. He tucked the tags back in his pocket and pointed the barrel into the boy’s chest. His face blanched and he held up his shaky hands. “Not so big now, are you?” He kept the gun trained on him and leaned down to scoop her back up. 
She was just cognizant enough to wrap an arm around his shoulder, keeping herself steady. “My friend here needs help. So help me boy, I swear if you fight me, I’ll slaughter everyone in that fucking place and just take what I want.”
He poked the gun into the boy’s chest and he jumped away from him with a frightened little whimper. With a grin, he bullied him into unlocking the gate and leading the both of them inside. 
“Please-”
“Shut the fuck up and get me inside.” It didn’t take long, the kid seemed to be the only guard they had patrolling right now. He led the pair inside the compound and then shoved them inside a room. 
“Here, you can clean her up here.” Before he could say anything the boy was running down the hall and out of sight. He figured they didn’t have long before the rest of the compound was alerted to what was going on. 
He knew enough about the place to know they had a water purifier set up in the back and some odd little ditty they’d created to use water to generate power. Having a radiated ocean behind them was a lot more convenient than Cooper ever would have thought. 
“Alright,” he propped her up on the bed and threw the boy’s rifle to the side. “Wake up, darling,” her eyelashes fluttered but she didn’t move. He used his teeth to pull off one of his gloves and pressed a hand to her clammy head. Still burning up. He cracked his hand across her cheek, chuckling at the way her eyes flew open. 
“Come on,” he hoisted her up and shoved her towards the bathroom in the room. There were holes in the wall, the faucet was really a metal can with holes poked in it, but it was running water. Who was he to complain? He propped her up against the sink and cranked the odd lever in the wall. There was a loud rattling sound before water came pouring out of the rusted can. “Clean yourself up,” he muttered, closing the door behind him.
Barely a minute later he heard a loud crash and the sound of porcelain cracking. He ran back into the bathroom and found her half collapsed against the shower wall. What was left of the decrepit sink was broken on the ground, only the faucet sticking out of the wall. He sighed and looked over at her. 
“I fell,” she muttered, a million little cuts bleeding on her arms. 
He sighed and tugged his hat and gloves off, tossing them onto the bed outside. He came back in, pulling her away from the shower and straightening her up. She clung onto him, broken nails digging dully into his scarred arms. “Come on, sweetheart,” he tugged her shirt up, her arms slipping limply out of it. 
Her wound was practically festered by now, turning a color that he knew meant she didn’t have much time to waste. He undid the button of her pants and knelt down, hands dragging down her legs and pulling her pants with them. She stepped out, hands braced on his shoulders and tripped slightly. He grabbed her thighs, steadying her and stood back up. He wrapped an arm around her waist, stopping her from falling and leading her into the shower. 
She sighed as the tepid water hit her back and he grimaced at the brown water pouring off of her. Maybe he should have let her clean up in that lake. He didn’t do much to help her as she cleaned herself up, mainly just stood there and let her hold onto him so she didn’t hurt herself further. 
He cupped the back of her neck and helped her tilt her head back to clean out the rest of her hair. It was odd, being this close to her. Less because of how stark naked she was, and more because of just how vulnerable she was being. Like a deer rolling over and presenting its neck to a wolf. He could do anything to her, and she just let him hold her like this. 
She leaned forward, clearly tired after moving around so much. Her head fell into his chest and she wrapped her arms around him tighter. She sighed, “I love you, Cooper.”
He flinched, knowing this was just a part of her delirium. Having running water for once was probably just confusing her more, making her think she was right back home. He leaned forward, lips pressed against her forehead and brushing some hair back. “No you don’t, darling.”
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There was a knock on the door and he was quick to draw his gun. The door opened and a middle aged woman flanked by two guards stood smiling at him. She took in the gun in his hand but seemed unbothered by it or the threat he posed. “I hear you two need some help.”
“Mhm,” he glanced at the guards behind her but they didn’t seem particularly interested in reaching for their weapons. The woman took her in from where she lay on the bed, panting and sounding like she was struggling to get her breaths in. “I have a bounty to turn in, figured part of my payment could be you giving us a Stimpak. Then, we’ll be out of your hair.”
She laughed and took a step further into the room. He stood up now, gun pointed towards her slightly. She ignored him and took a peek at the festering wound. “She’ll need a lot more than a Stimpak. We can clean her up, don’t worry.” He didn’t get a chance to argue before the guards were coming in. He stepped out of the way as they grabbed you by the arms and legs, hauling you out of the room. 
He made to follow them but the woman placed a hand on his chest. “Sylvie, I run the compound. The bounty?”
He sighed and fished the dog tags out of his pocket, passing them to her. He glanced out the door, trying to track the path they took you down. “She’ll be fine, trust me.”
He laughed and glanced over at her, “No offense, ma’am,” he says the title with a lack of respect that makes her brows furrow in irritation, “but if there’s one thing I’ve learned it’s not to trust anyone. No matter how pretty their promises are.”
She gave him a long look before smiling and motioning back towards the hall. “Follow me and we’ll go find her.”
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They had a decent set up here. Not as nice as the vaults, clearly, but pretty good for surface dwellers. A decent supply of meds and rations, running water. Everything in the building might be run down or covered in mildew, with cracks in the wall, but it was better than the hovels he’d camped out in. 
They’ve got her set up on cot, a bag of Radaway hooked up to her arm and her hair braided away from her face. They had to cut out the stitches he’d sewed and open the wound back up to flush it out. She’d been patched back up and while the skin still looked irritated it seemed to be doing a lot better than before. 
He’d been keeping a close eye on her breathing and she’d finally stopped wheezing on every inhale. He figured another hour here and they could get the fuck out. These people were starting to bother him. Every half hour or so they would come in to check on her, the women would spray some water on her face and mutter something before running back out. 
He seemed to scare them, enjoying the way they would avoid meeting his eyes. But it wasn’t enough to keep them away from her. Their insistence should’ve had alarm bells going off in his head, but he was already preoccupied worrying about her. He didn’t even notice when Slyvie came to stand beside him. 
“She’ll be alright,” she tried to place a hand on his shoulder but the look he shot her had her stopping short. She cleared her throat uncomfortably and tucked her hands back behind her back. He gave her another long look before going back to staring at the girl on the bed. 
“We have a place for her here, if you’re interested.”
He scoffed, “Room for us, huh?” He let himself picture it for a moment. He wouldn’t fucking stay, of course, he couldn’t. There’s no way, after two hundred years of wandering, that he could be locked down to one decaying old building. Showers or no. But he could always come by to visit her, stay a few nights and then leave again. 
That’s assuming she’d even want him to visit. Didn’t matter, he’d come anyway. But, he couldn’t do that anymore. Couldn’t live that life even if it would be temporary. It just wasn’t in him. He stayed stagnant for too long and two hundred years of bloodshed and loss would drive him insane. 
Sylvie shook her head and frowned. “I’m sorry, I should have been more clear. We have room for her, you have to understand, without a steady supply of Radaway we can’t risk having a ghoul here.” She moved towards her and brushed some hair out of her face, “Think about it.” She walked out and he stared blankly at the cot. 
She shifted on the bed, face pained and mumbling something under her breath. Finally, her eyes fluttered open and she frowned. “Coop? What’s,” she trailed off, struggling to sit up and glancing around the room they were in. “What’s going on?”
“Relax, we’re at the compound.”
She rubbed her forehead and glared at him, “Is that supposed to mean something to me?”
He swatted her leg and she recoiled, “No, smartass. Just relax, we’ll be out of here soon.” She nodded and leaned back against the pillows they’d given her. It was odd, finally seeing her clean again. He could see clearly just how tired she looked. It was in her eyes, mainly, a weariness towards the world that left her exhausted. 
He’s surprised she’s even made it this far without giving up. She’d been dealt some shit luck, but he supposed it was better she be exposed to how cruel the world was as quickly as possible. She groaned and her head flopped forward. 
“What’s wrong with you now?” 
“God,” she muttered, turning her face away from him and shaking her head. He huffed and sat up straight, glaring at the side of her face. 
“Talk,” he demanded, not in the mood for games. 
“I meant it,” she sounded pained, like the words had to be forced out. “I mean, I hate that I meant it, but I did.”
He rolled his eyes, “Meant what? You’re gonna have to be a little clearer than that, sweetheart.”
“What I said in the shower. I meant it. I haven’t stopped loving you, despite how much I want to. I don’t want to want you anymore, I don’t want that connection to the past to constantly be shoved down my throat.” She sighed and tugged at the braid they’d given her. “You’re cruel and mean and, fuck’s sake, you’ve shot me twice. But you’re also the only thing I’ve got left, and despite how much I want to, because trust me I do, I can’t let you go.”
He sighed and turned away from her. She was still tired, still a bit woozy from the fever. He could see the sweat on her forehead again and knew that whatever this was, was just drug induced. He couldn’t handle it. He couldn’t handle her wanting him like this again. 
Being around her already made him vulnerable enough. Whatever twisted connection he held to her now, would be nothing compared to letting her love him again. Two hundred years on his own and she thought she could just come barreling back into his life and everything would be lovely again?
No, that’s not how this world worked. Not anymore. 
He stood up and threw his bag over his shoulder. “Get back to sleep, we’ll leave soon.”
She sighed and sank back against the pillows, shivering as she did so. “You’ll be here?”
“Of course I will, sweetheart.” She nodded, eyes already drifting shut, and turned away from him. He let himself admire her, taking in her relaxed features and soft expression. She reminded him so much of before. Before the world went to shit and before he turned into what he is now. 
He could feel parts of him, the ones he’d buried a long time ago, come up around her. Twisted as they were, how he felt about her before still lingered somewhere within him. But he couldn’t afford the risk that they presented if he did let her back in. He wasn’t even sure she could fully handle him if he did. 
She’d nearly died about five times, most of them because of him, and she’d been up here for such a short time. She’d be better off without him. He walked towards the door, the spurs of his boots clicking against the tile of the floor. He found Sylvie lurking a few halls down and whistled, getting her attention. 
Sylvie turned to him with an expectant smile. “You got room?”
She nodded with an eager smile, “We do. And you’d be compensated, of course.” Before he could question what exactly she was paying him for she snapped her fingers and some guards approached. They handed him a bag that he quickly rifled through. Not only was there enough Radaway to last him at least a month, there was purified water and rations that would keep him going until the next bounty. 
She’ll be better off here. 
He tucked the bag away and smiled at Sylvie, “Pleasure doing business with you, ma’am.”
She gave him a lecherous grin, “You as well,” she nodded and the guards escorted him to the gate. He didn’t let himself look back, knowing he’d just want to go get her. At least now he didn’t have to constantly worry about saving her ass. 
He was better off on his own. Always had been, always would be. 
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end. — I do not own the characters or the game/show Fallout, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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Text
Last Update: 2023-12-16
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Disclaimer: I am not the author of these stories, just sharing my favourite Robb Stark stories. Find the authors' links below. If you want your work removed, message me privately.
Legend: 〔E〕 ⇢ Erotic/Steamy | 〔F〕 ⇢ Fluff | 〔A〕 ⇢ Angst/Hurt 〔M〕 ⇢ Minor Angst/Hurt | 〔C〕 ⇢ Comfort | ♥︎ ⇢ Established Relationship | 𑁍 ⇢ Pregnancy/Children | 🚫 ⇢ Content Warning
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✠ Betrayal│Prt. II│Prt. III by fearlessmercenaryimagines-blog • 〔A᜶C〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •
Summary: "Before the war everything was so different, Robb and [you] were deeply in love… Robb was an great husband and an incredible father... [You] were the perfect family unit and nothing would ever separate them or so [you] thought."
✠ Queen in the North│Prt. II│Prt. III │Prt. IV│Prt. V│Prt. VI by thebestandworstdayofjune • 〔F〕 •
Summary: "[Your parents] sent [you] to live with the Stark family at a young age, and ever since then, [you] seemed to fit perfectly, maybe even more than [you] had ever noticed."
✠ United in Fear│Prt. II│Prt. III│Prt. IV │Prt. V│by justfandomwritings • 18+ • 〔F᜶A〕 • 🚫 •
Summary: "The names were the greatest mystery in Westeros... [No kingdom] could agree on where they were from or how they came to be... [However,] all seemed to agree on one thing: they were a gift."
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✠ A Lord Needs A Lady by ardentmuse • 16+ • 〔E᜶F〕 •
Summary: Exhausted and overwhelmed, you sneak away from the king's feast into the god's word to take a dip in Hot Springs. However, things get more heated than you bargained for when the heir of Winterfell interrupts your bath.
✠ A Queens Desire by talesof-old • 18+ • 〔E〕 • ♥︎ •
Summary: "Robb finds the idea of you having children a little too much to handle."
✠ Be My Queen by mylittlefandomfanfictions • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
Summary: "[Robb and you have been in love for many years]. Now that he is King in the North, he has chosen you as the woman he wants to... make his Queen. There's just [the issue of] asking for your hand..."
✠ Best Friend by axelsagewrites • 〔F᜶M〕 •
Summary: "After a decade of friendship Robb is finally able to recognise his love but only after his best friend starts looking for a husband that isn't him."
✠ Cloak by axelsagewrites • 〔F᜶A〕 •
Summary: When the reader returns to winterfell after being attacked she finds herself having night terrors again and only one person is able to make them stop.
✠ Danger that Befalls You by justauthoring • 16+ • 〔A〕 • ♥︎ • 🚫 •
Summary: When Rob left for war, he requested you, his wife, remain in Winterfell and look after his brothers. He thought it would be safer; little did he'd believing you vulnerable to Theon, following the Iron princes betrayal.
✠ Feasts and Possessiveness by letsasoiaftogether • 〔E᜶F〕 • ♥︎ •
Summary: When Joffrey takes a worried some interest in you, Robb's betrothed, the young wolf struggles to keep his jealousy in check; you assure him that he's the only man that will ever hold your heart.
✠ First and Last by ijustwant2write •
Summary: {…}
✠ Flowers by fearlessmercenaryimagines-blog •
Summary: The daughter of a simple yet well-respected flower merchant in Winterfell …
✠ I Miss You by axelsagewrites • 18+ • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
Summary: "[You] misses spending quality time with [your] husband when the war is raging and draws him back into bed."
✠ Jealousy by hearmeroarasoiaf • 16+ • 〔F〕 •
Summary: "Imagine being a Lannister and Robb makes you jealous by flirting with someone else."
✠ Lady Lannister by darkdevasofdestruction • 〔F᜶A〕 •
Summary: "The first time [you] met, it was love at first sight. He favoured his Tully side, with gorgeous icy-blue eyes and shiny auburn hair, charming every lady in the North with a simple smile and wink."
✠ Lady Stark by evieurusrex • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •
Summary: the day Rob met, you was the day, his world turned upside down, and neither of you could be happier about it.
✠ Longing│Prt. II by mylittlefandomfanfictions • 〔A〕 •
Summary: "Robb Stark is your best friend, but he's also the man you're in love with. Now he's away at war and you want nothing more than for him to come home."
✠ Lord and Lady of House Stark by hiatuswhore • 〔A〕 • ♥︎ •
Summary: "Oh to be young and in love. Foolish really, in the Game of Thrones there's no room for love. Only life and death."
✠ Marriage Night by axelsagewrites • 〔F〕 • ♡ •
Summary: "After your arranged marriage ceremony you and your new husband finally have alone time for the first time."
✠ May I Have this Dance by mylittlefandomfanfictions • 〔F〕 •
Summary: "When Robb happens upon you and his siblings teaching Rickon how to dance, the young boy insists Robb join them."
✠ Provoked by Jealousy by bluesfortheredj • 18+ • 〔E᜶F〕 • ♥︎ •
Summary: {…}
✠ Red Revenge by julessworldd • 〔F᜶A〕 • ♥︎ •
Summary: {…}
✠ Sometimes by luna-writes-stuff • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
Summary: "You have been betrothed to Robb for a while now, but a his royal duties after Bran fell lay heavy on his health, you force him to take a break, in which he rants to you about his doubts over Theon's questioning words."
✠ Sweet Girl
✠ Wolf's Territory, the by mylittlefandomfanfictions • 〔F᜶C〕 •
Summary: "[Catching] the eye of Jamie Lannister, the Kingslayer [quickly recognizes] Robb's feelings for you, antagonizing the young wolf with his relentless flirting. You, [however,] can't understand why Robb is so angry."
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✠ Awkward Arrangement by hearmeroarasoiaf • 16+ • 〔F〕 •
✠ Always There by blog-of-a-multitude-of-fandoms • 〔A᜶C〕 • 🚫 •
✠ Catelyn's Ward by megsironthrone • 〔C〕 •
✠ Cozy in Your Arms by the-dendrophile-bookdragon • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
✠ Direwolf Pups by megsironthrone • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
✠ Distraction by multi-fandom-imagines8 • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
✠ Good Night Dear Husband
✠ Grief by multifandomhaven • 〔C〕 •
✠ Hidden Feelings by bonniebird • 〔F〕 •
✠ I Can't Wait by you-plus-them • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •
✠ I Hate that I Don't Hate You by bluesfortheredj • 18+ • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
✠ King's Envy, the by bonniebird • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
✠ My Wife by justauthoring • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
✠ No Words by fallatyourfeet • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •
✠ Outside the Norm by megsironthrone • 〔F〕 •
✠ Over the Moon by delicrieux • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •
✠ Passion by blog-of-a-multitude-of-fandoms • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
✠ Pondwater Eyes by delicrieux • 〔F〕 •
✠ Proud by letsasoiaftogether • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
✠ Return to Winterfell by fallatyourfeet • 〔F〕 •
✠ Since the Age of Four by breanime • 〔F〕 •
✠ Worry by megsironthrone • 〔F᜶C〕 • ♥︎ •
✠ You Must Really Love Me by justauthoring • 〔A〕 • ♥︎ •
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✠ Arguing w/ Robb Stark... by imagines-all-day-everyday • 〔F᜶A〕 • ♥︎ •
✠ Being Robb's Wife... by tessimagines • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
✠ Carrying Robb's Baby... by fallatyourfeet • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •
✠ Courting Robb... by itsgameofthronesimagines • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
✠ His Favourite Trait of Yours is... by persuasivus • 〔F〕 •
✠ Life w/ Robb After War… by imagines-all-day-everyday • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
✠ Robb Being Protective... by imagines-all-day-everyday • 〔F〕 •
✠ S.F.W. Alphabet by ladywinterwitch • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
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See Also: Navigation || Robb Stark Master Index
Authors: @axelsagewrites || @ardentmuse || @blog-of-a-multitude-of-fandoms || @bluesfortheredj || @bonniebird || @breanime || @darkdevasofdestruction || @delicrieux || @eviesaurusrex || @fallatyourfeet || @fearlessmercenaryimagines-blog || @hearmeroarasoiaf || @hiatuswhore || @ijustwant2write || @imagines-all-day-everyday || @itsgameofthronesimagines || @julessworldd || @justauthoring || @justfandomwritings || @ladywinterwitch | @letsasoiaftogether || @megsironthrone || @multifandomhaven || @multi-fandom-imagines8 || @mylittlefandomfanfictions || @persuasivus || @talesof-old | @tessimagines || @thebestandworstdayofjune || @the-dendrophile-bookdragon || @writingfortoomanyfandoms || @you-plus-them ||
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catscidr · 3 months
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I think we have all seen the "Argenti thinks the Reader is Idrila" stuff on here. But what if the reader actually is Idrila? So I wanted to request Argenti/Idrila!Reader (gn or afab reader) headcanons or a oneshot where Idrila, who has taken on a mortal identity after [Insert tragic event here], and meets Argenti. They develop feelings for each other, Argenti finds out she is Idrila, they end up dating. (Maybe or maybe not in that specific order) I thought maybe after protecting her followers from Nanook she disappeared to ensure Nanook doesn't target them anymore? That part isn't as important so feel free to add whatever backstory you think fits^^ Thank you in advance, I really like your writing!
NONNIE omg im booting up star rail rn to stare at him lovingly. also i changed the scenario a smidge so reader is her own person while also being idrila? if that makes sense......?? yeah. also bc otherwise id be writing ten thousand words n i didnt want ur ask to grow dusty in my inbox d(;∀;d) but tysm for the prompt i couldn’t stop thinking about it ueue. also hey gang peep me trying to make my blog look more coherent n nicer looking. am i doin it ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ cw: a smidge of amnesia and soulmate trope (it’s not that bad, trust), fluff, love at first sight (does that even count in this scenario....), argenti and reader are dancing around the topic a lot bc argenti is a gentleman and doesn’t want to pressure her to talk. blurbs to set up the plot + a fic after them hehe. not proofread, writer’s block is killing me  includes: fem reader (he refers to reader as "my lady"), argenti, natasha, luocha is kinda there wc: 2,3k
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-ˋˏ You’d go to Natasha’s clinic at least once every other day because you always had the worst migraines. To the point where you almost got beat up by a Flamespawn one time when you were clearing out calyxes (thankfully there was a Silvermane guard patrolling the area, otherwise you would’ve been charred). The doctor always says the same thing; “Stop looking for fights so often”, “Let your body rest”, “I can’t prescribe you antibiotics”, and your favorite, “Stop slamming my door open I can’t do anything about your headaches”. She was a good friend, but whenever she repeated how she couldn’t be of any help to your predicament, you’d wish you could just take that glass vial hanging from her outfit and chuck it far, far away out of spite. 
-ˋˏ Obviously it wasn’t her fault- she'd done everything she could. Natasha even had you undergo the Underworld’s equivalent of an MRI scan because of how frequently you would visit her, insisting that something was wrong. The symptoms consisted of forgetting important things too often, feeling a foreign buzz in your limbs and brain, having a sudden burst of elemental energy come out of your attacks and a myriad of benign but annoying, irritating signs that something was up with you. 
-ˋˏ It became more of a chore than anything to leave your room. Some days you felt fine, but then when you’d go out again and beat up wave after wave of enemies in Caverns of Corrosion you would keel over, clutching your head while vague images of what could only be described as a fever dream ran through your mind. 
-ˋˏ You decided to leave the Underworld for some time- considering your absence like some sort of “vacation”. You heard of a wandering doctor (and merchant, apparently) by the name of Luocha and, from the people that crossed paths with him, it seemed like he was extraordinary at his job. A trek to the Xianzhou Luofu would be a long one, but after weighing your options you thought you’d give it a try (it was worth it if it meant you’d stop waking up at ungodly hours, holding your head in your hands while hoping, praying that the pain stops.) 
-ˋˏ You (somehow) made your way to the Xianzhou Luofu from Jarilo-VI. As competent as you were however, being stranded on a foreign planet with no map nor local to guide you was... a challenge. In retrospect, maybe you should’ve gotten in contact with that Luocha doctor and had him come to Belobog instead of you going to him since, well, he was a traveling merchant. Going from planet to planet is what he does (you assume). 
✧✧✧ 
If you had read up more on general information about the Luofu you would have been aware of how many enemies were roaming around the docking area. But you didn’t. So, unbeknownst to you, a rogue mara-struck soldier was on your tail, trying to sneak up to you to snag the goods you hid in your bag (which were basically just different types of painkillers and sustenance that bodes well on an upset stomach. He doesn’t know that though.) 
Your head was throbbing; ever since you set foot on the planet, your physical health had slowly dropped down to levels you wouldn’t be enduring if it wasn’t for the promise of a competent doctor once you get to the main city. Painkillers weren’t working, your feet hurt and to make matters worse, you felt the familiar lack of something in your head. It was so bad to the point where you had to have a tangible mark somewhere to remind you that you did, in fact, just take something for your headache and if you took two more painkillers, your body wouldn’t agree with your decision. It was a struggle even remembering what you did five minutes ago, no way were you going to be in top shape, beating up every enemy crossing your way. 
Clouds began covering the bright sun, casting shadows over the desolate, geometric area. You huff, irritated that, from the looks of it, you won’t be able to find a cozy place to set up camp. Though sleeping on a ground made of primarily iron and steel was considerably less nerve-wracking than sleeping on the mushy, cold, dirty ground of Jarilo-VI. So, with a pout aimed at no one in particular, you find some place that you deemed decent enough to set your humble tent. It wasn’t often that adventurers slept outside of safe zones, however with your condition you couldn’t afford to miss out on some rest and possibly get even more lost than you already are. 
You set your heavy backpack down, rolling your shoulders to soothe the ache in your muscles from carrying something so bulky. As you ruffle through your belongings, you open a bottled soda and take a swift gulp, sighing contentedly at the pleasant taste on your tongue. Now that you were sat and could rest your bones (until you started setting up your tent, at least), your ears were able to pick up on some not-so-distant footsteps. 
There’s no time for you to react; the mara-struck soldier that had been following you lunges at you, aiming for your bag. Your eyes widen and you open your mouth to yell, but before any sound can leave your mouth, a long, red and gold spear pierces the ground between you and the rabid man, making you yelp in surprise. You scurry as far back as you can in your current state; however, the soldier doesn’t have time to take advantage of your weakened stature. The owner of the spear lodges himself before your shaking figure and the mara-struck, yanking his spear out of the ground with impressive elegance, and summons an array of thorny vines to catch your assailant. 
It takes little to no effort for the seasoned fighter to take down the mara-struck as he swings his weapon, swiftly knocking the blunt end on the soldier’s plexus, knocking the wind out of him. A strangled scream leaves his throat as he scampers away, leaving your belongings safe with you and the strange red-haired man. He lowers his spear, careful to keep the sharp edge far from you, and turns around to face you properly. His brows raise a smidge for a split second before he composes himself and bows before you, the action short and curt.  
“It would have been a shame to lose a beauty such as yourself,” he says smoothly, straightening his back to look down at you with a warm smile. He stretches his hand out, a polite offer to help you stand up, as he continues speaking. “My name is Argenti, I belong to the Knights of Beauty. What might you be doing so far away from civilization, dear...?” he trails off, waiting for you to introduce yourself. 
You were in a state of shock, your mind still processing what had happened in such a short amount of time, that you failed to notice the lack of pain at the back of your head. As you meekly tell him your name, you hold onto his hand to help yourself up- as soon as his armored glove comes in contact with your hand something flashes in your mind; too quick to allow you to think about it too much, or to recognize what you saw for a millisecond. 
“So far away from civilization... do you know how to get to the city?” you ask as you feel a glimmer of hope spark in you. His words were refreshing, probably the best thing someone has ever said to you in the past month. He nods, reaching into his pocket to fish out a blue handkerchief embroidered with a delicate gold trim. Argenti hands it over to you and you gratefully take it, blotting the sweat and... dust off of your face. 
“I have made my way around the Luofu for long enough to show someone the way,” he says kindly. “Besides, even if I didn’t, I would still offer to accompany you through your trek. It is my duty as a Knight of Beauty, for I must uphold chivalry and distinguished manners, in the name of the Goddess guiding me.” His words resonate within you, making you beam, nodding in understanding. 
Your reaction doesn’t go unnoticed by the knight. As you hand his handkerchief back, he smiles at you and gestures to your bag. “What brings you so far from your homeworld, my lady?” Argenti asks gently, though a glimmer of doubt swirls in his sparkling, verdant eyes. The question makes you pause, a memory flashing in your mind too suddenly for you to know what it meant. Although, from what you could tell, you knew you could trust him with what troubled you somehow. 
“Ah, it’s a long story,” you start sheepishly, “I’ve been having these incredibly painful migraines recently. And sometimes I feel like my memory is fading too quickly for what would be considered normal,” you say, trailing off slightly at the end. “I’m looking for a healer, a doctor by the name of Luocha...?” 
Somehow, the doctor was currently the least of your worries. You’d never felt so refreshed before, at least not that you could remember; simply being in Argenti’s presence seemed to be enough to make your aches disappear like a starskiff smoothly gliding through a cloudless sky. 
“I’ve seen the man only a handful of times,” Argenti mutters aloud, pulling you out of your thoughts. “I can do my best to guide you to him, but if I may... you don’t seem to be injured?” the knight says, his voice trailing off into a questioning tone despite the observation. You shake your head, wondering how you should explain your predicament to the man. 
“Like I said, it’s a long story,” you say again, shrugging sheepishly. You wondered if you should even go into the nitty gritty- he could always just be making small talk to help you get comfortable or something. Sensing your unease, he changes the spotlight to him instead. 
“There’s no need to delve into details if you wish to keep them secret,” he says with a kind smile, bending down to take ahold of your hand- gently pressing a chaste kiss on the back of your hand. Red flushes your ears immediately, words caught in your throat at the sight of his hair cascading over his shoulders, a beautiful contrast from the gold and silver armor glittering in what was left of the sunlight. 
“As for myself, like I mentioned earlier, I am a Knight of Beauty. I’m on a quest to find my dear Goddess Idrila once more, for I need to pay my respects to them after they saved me from a particularly grim fate.” His words echoed in your mind, your brows knitting together as you felt what could only be described as a cold bucket of water being dunked on your head. “I-Idrila?” you parrot, your voice coming out as a choked noise. Argenti perks up, the hand that had been softly holding onto yours now holding it with a firmer grip, his other hand joining it. 
“Yes, Idrila. Have you ever heard of them? Or...” he trails off, looking deep into your eyes expectantly, almost as if he knew something you didn’t. His eyes seemed to suck you in, bringing a comfortable wave of warmth over you, making you yearn for something. 
“I...” you begin, your gaze falling down to look at your feet. As you thought long and hard about what you wanted to say, what you tried to remember, you slowly look over to his spear, lying flat on the ground- long forgotten since the fight earlier. As if a lightbulb went off above your head, you perk up just as he did, and look at him, beaming. The words were caught in your throat; there was so much you wanted to say, to declare, to do in this moment of clarity, but with how fast your mind was running to catch you up on the current events of your life it was a struggle. 
“Argenti,” you murmur, the name rolling off your tongue smoothly, as you realized seeing the traveling merchant was no longer required. Though the road might have been arduous, and you may have almost lost your mind in the process, being with Argenti suddenly made everything make sense. That’s why your migraines mysteriously disappeared as soon as you were in the knight’s presence, that’s why you had gaps in your memory, that’s why you were freakishly powerful... at convenient times.  
Everything clicked into place. 
The both of you share a pregnant pause, eyes locked together as the world seemed to come to a stop around you. If it were possible, you’re sure there would be delicate, silky rose petals floating around your figures, suspended in the air. You glance down at his lips, and for the first time, make a decision with a clear head. 
His lips felt smooth against yours, the faint taste of vanilla mixed with roses transferring to your own lips. The kiss almost felt like it could be the result of a symbiotic relationship; now that you had Argenti, or at least had him by your side once again, you didn’t think you’d be able to continue on without him. 
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eggluverz · 10 months
Text
— MASTERLIST
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hi there and welcome to my blog!! i’m sof and here are my writings :> hope u enjoy ur stay !!
© eggluverz — all rights reserved. reposting, modifying, copying, or translating of any kind is not allowed. do not plagiarize. thank you and have fun reading!
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DAN HENG
i. operation: dog food
modern au. in which you are trying to save a stray dog and dan heng sees you lurking around front of his door.
ii. the interns
modern au. in which you view your internship as a competition and dan heng is simply attracted to all your hard work and determination.
iii. hot and cold
roommate au. in which dan heng runs hot and blasts the air conditioner to keep cool, and you feel like you’re living in the arctic.
iv. starry night bakery
bakery au. in which the cute baker down the street catches your eye and you decide to become a regular to keep seeing him.
v. blind dates & hidden feelings
march 7th sets you up on a blind date with gepard and dan heng finds himself feeling jealous when he sees the two of you on a date together.
vi. we really were timeless
dan heng does not want to remember his previous reincarnation, but there is one part he doesn't want to let go of forever— you.
vii. like me better?
you want to braid dan heng's hair and he wonders if you like him better in this form.
viii. something shiny this way comes
dan heng wants to face part of his past by walking around xianzhou luofu with you, but he freaks out when he notices you are no longer by his side.
ix. after all this time
you were the great imbibitor lunae's disciple. he trusted you with his life and you with his. but when the time came, you weren't able to save him. what happens when you run into his reincarnation years down the line?
x. no time to waste
school au. dan heng's a workaholic, you're the only one who can get him to look away from his work, and jing yuan thinks the two of you just need to get together.
xi. should've been there
you and dan heng are exploring the xianzhou luofu and you get surrounded by a group of assassins who want to hurt you to get to dan heng. you decide to teach them not to mess with your partner. 
xii. stars fading but i linger on, dear
dan heng has been having dreams about you. they started off good—like a fairytale even. but soon he’s been getting the feeling something is wrong. you’re trapped and alone and can’t escape. dan heng wonders if his dreams are telling him something. and if they are…what is there for him to do?
xiii. dragons and daffodils
you impulsively walk into a tattoo shop, see a gorgeous man with blue eyes and a dragon tattoo along his arm, and immediately decide you need to get a tattoo from him now. 
xiv. light in the darkness
dan heng has an extreme fear of the dark and the astral express experiences a power outage. thankfully, you are there to help him through this.
xv. gifts from the heart
dan heng sees a plushie of him at a vendor booth at belobog. he doesn’t understand that craze of “cute” things himself but perhaps you will like the gift.
BLADE
i. not a weirdo stalker [smau]
modern au. in which you are a college student trying to vibe and blade thinks you are crazy obsessed with him.
ii. everything i need
idol au. in which you’re feeling down about not seeing your boyfriend in a few months and blade takes time out of his busy tour schedule to surprise you.
JING YUAN
i. taste of the universe
in which jing yuan occasionally gets tired of being general and you are there to cheer him up.
ii. lady fu’s matchmaking service
fu xuan thinks the lonely general needs to go on a date, and you are just the person she wants to set him up with.
iii. the general needs a break… and a mooncake
the general is drowning in work, and the mid-autumn festival is the perfect excuse to take a break.
DAN FENG
i. a stare worth a thousand words
you and dan feng were just friends. close comrades who challenged each other. but you were starting to suspect that just friends don't stare at each other like this...
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HEADCANONS
❀ dan heng x f!reader college au
❀ halloween with dan heng, jing yuan, and blade
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— tags + info
❀ request guidelines
# ❣️ rambles: for when i like to blah blah blah
# 💌 asks: received in my ask box <3
# 📚 fic recs: works i’ve read and enjoyed!
member of @masked-fools 🫶
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istumpysk · 11 months
Text
Operation Stumpy Re-Read
TWOW: Alayne I (Sansa I)
My little lovebug! ❤️
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She's finally here! 🥺
To celebrate, I might just copy and paste the whole gosh darn thing. You've been warned.
Ladies and gentlemen, brace yourselves for the mind-blowing, heart-stopping, epic conclusion of Operation Stumpy Re-Read Project!
Before we dive in, we need to revisit a theory that I proposed in Jon X, ADWD.
The last time we saw Jon's and Sansa's points of view in the same book was A Storm of Swords. You might recall the deliberate placement of their back-to-back chapters was anything but subtle.
The text was often copied verbatim, the situations were perfectly mirrored, and the topics of love, marriage, and family were prevalent in both.
You can view a quick summary of it all here.
That brings us to this chapter. Some of you might not be aware, but George was originally planning to put Alayne I in A Dance with Dragons.
That Sansa chapter I talked about finishing, for instance. It's still finished, but my editor and I decided it belongs in THE WINDS OF WINTER, not A DANCE WITH DRAGONS, so it's been moved into the next book. Sansa will not appear in DANCE. - Not a Blog
Based on the intentional placement of previous Jon and Sansa chapters, I have hypothesized that it should be possible to determine the original planned position of this Alayne chapter.
Below, I will do my best to argue Alayne I, TWOW was originally indented to appear directly before Jon X, ADWD.
Alright, it's time!
She was reading her little lord a tale of the Winged Knight when Mya Stone came knocking on the door of his bedchamber, clad in boots and riding leathers and smelling strongly of the stable. Mya had straw in her hair and a scowl on her face. That scowl comes of having Mychel Redfort near, Alayne knew.
I'm so slow, I'm only now picking up on the vague hints of Jon and Sansa's connection from the highborn-lowborn divide between Mya and Mychel Redfort.
She sounded so like Sansa, so happy and innocent with her dreams. Catelyn smiled, but the smile was tinged with sadness. The Redforts were an old name in the Vale, she knew, with the blood of the First Men in their veins. His love she might be, but no Redfort would ever wed a bastard. His family would arrange a more suitable match for him, to a Corbray or a Waynwood or a Royce, or perhaps a daughter of some greater house outside the Vale. - Catelyn VI, AGOT
She even had a king for a dad!
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Why did she have to mention Harry? Alayne thought. We will never get Sweetrobin out of bed now. The boy slapped a pillow. "Send them away. I never asked them here." Mya looked nonplussed. No one in the Vale was better at handling a mule, but lordlings were another matter. "They were invited," she said uncertainly, "for the tourney. I don't…" Alayne closed her book. "Thank you, Mya. Let me talk with Lord Robert, if you would."
Oh look, 13-year-old Sansa is acting 24 again, and can I just mention she's absolutely fantastic at managing her son cousin.
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"I hate that Harry," Sweetrobin said when she was gone. "He calls me cousin, but he's just waiting for me to die so he can take the Eyrie. He thinks I don't know, but I do." "Your lordship should not believe such nonsense," Alayne said. "I'm sure Ser Harrold loves you well." And if the gods are good, he will love me too. Her tummy gave a little flutter.
Back to 13.
Just like Arya and Mercy, you can still find traces of Sansa in Alayne.
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"I don't want you to marry him, Alayne. I am the Lord of the Eyrie, and I forbid it." He sounded as if he were about to cry. "You should marry me instead. We could sleep in the same bed every night, and you could read me stories."
In the future, it might be a good idea to ensure that Jon and Sweetrobin are kept apart at all times.
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No man can wed me so long as my dwarf husband still lives somewhere in this world. 
I don't know about that.
"Hush, you'll be the death of us. I did nothing. Come, we must away, they'll search for you. Your husband's been arrested."
"Tyrion?" she said, shocked.
"Do you have another husband? The Imp, the dwarf uncle, she thinks he did it." - Sansa V, ASOS
x
When Her Grace suggested that she would be pleased to help arrange marriages for his sons to the daughters of great southern lords, Lord Stark refused brusquely. "We keep the old gods in the North," he told the queen. "When my boys take a wife, they will wed before a heart tree, not in some southron sept." - Fire & Blood
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Alayne stroked his fingers. "There, my Sweetrobin, be still now." When the shaking passed, she said, "You must have a proper wife, a trueborn maid of noble birth." "No. I want to marry you, Alayne." Once your lady mother intended that very thing, but I was trueborn then, and noble.
Trust me, this is less than nothing, we're only warming up. I can do way better than this.
(-> -> -> Jon X?)
"Who brings this woman to be wed?" asked Melisandre.
"I do," said Jon. "Now comes Alys of House Karstark, a woman grown and flowered, of noble blood and birth." - Jon X, ADWD
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Alayne smoothed his hair. Lady Lysa had never let the servants touch it, and after she had died Robert had suffered terrible shaking fits whenever anyone came near him with a blade, so it had been allowed to grow until it tumbled over his round shoulders and halfway down his flabby white chest. He does have pretty hair. If the gods are good and he lives long enough to wed, his wife will admire his hair, surely. That much she will love about him. 
Mounting evidence that Sansa is plotting to kill Robert Arryn.
Why would he fear a blade?
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"The Lord of the Eyrie can do as he likes. Can't I still love you, even if I have to marry her? Ser Harrold has a common woman. Benjicot says she's carrying his bastard." Benjicot should learn to keep his fool's mouth shut.
Lmao.
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"Is that what you would have from me? A bastard?" She pulled her fingers from his grasp. "Would you dishonor me that way?" The boy looked stricken. "No. I never meant —" Alayne stood. "If it please my lord, I must go and find my father. Someone needs to greet Lady Waynwood." Before her little lord could find the words to protest, she gave him a quick curtsy and fled the bedchamber [...].
Masterfully done!
This is why I can't have children, I would have locked him in a closet.
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When she had left Petyr Baelish that morning he had been breaking his fast with old Oswell who had arrived last night from Gulltown on a lathered horse. 
Did you know that the number of references to Oldtown gradually increases from book to book until it surges in A Storm of Swords, right before the city is formally introduced at the beginning of A Feast for Crows?
Gulltown is on a similar trajectory. The city is referenced nine times in this chapter alone. Nine.
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Though snow had blanketed the heights of the Giant's Lance above, below the mountain the autumn lingered and winter wheat was ripening in the fields.
For timeline purposes: Sansa is lagging behind where Brienne and Jon currently are in the story.
Snow in the riverlands. If it was snowing here, it could well be snowing on Lannisport as well, and on King's Landing. Winter is marching south, and half our granaries are empty. Any crops still in the fields were doomed. [...] "I know," Jaime said, "there has been a white raven from the Citadel. Winter has come." - Jaime VII, AFFC
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Alayne loved it here. She felt alive again, for the first since her father… since Lord Eddard Stark had died.
Stop.
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She hoped they might still be talking, but Petyr's solar proved empty. Someone had left a window open and a stack of papers had blown onto the floor. [...] She closed the window, gathered up the fallen papers, and stacked them on the table. One was a list of the competitors. Four-and-sixty knights had been invited to vie for places amongst Lord Robert Arryn's new Brotherhood of Winged Knights, and four­ and-sixty knights had come to tilt for the right to wear falcon’s wings upon their warhelms and guard their lord.
It is widely speculated she saw something she shouldn't have, but hasn't fully grasped the significance yet.
Did you know there's 64 squares on a chessboard?
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The competitors came from all over the Vale, from the mountain valleys and the coast, from Gulltown and the Bloody Gate, even the Three Sisters. Though a few were promised, only three were wed; the eight victors would be expected to spend the next three years at Lord Robert's side, as his own personal guard (Alayne had suggested seven, like the Kingsguard, but Sweetrobin had insisted that he must have more knights than King Tommen), so older men with wives and children had not been invited.
We love a petty king.
so older men with wives and children had not been invited.
Perfect for Blackfish! Where is that former Knight of the Gate? I know he's coming, the ellipsis of truth tells no lies.
And if Ser Brynden should survive this siege, he might be inclined to claim Riverrun in his own name . . . or in the name of young Robert Arryn. - Jaime V, AFFC
Where else is he supposed to go?
Edit:
Oh! @decadelongsummer reminded me that Jaime I, ADWD would have come before this. (<- <- <-)
"Might the Blackfish seek refuge at Raventree?"
"He might seek it, but to find it he'd need to get past my siege lines, and last I heard he hadn't grown wings. [...]" - Jaime I, ADWD
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"They're young, eager, hungry for adventure and renown. Lysa would not let them go to war. This is the next best thing. A chance to serve their lord and prove their prowess. They will come. Even Harry the Heir." He had smoothed her hair and kissed her forehead. "What a clever daughter you are."
I will turn your liver into paste, and feed it to cats.
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"What a clever daughter you are." It was clever.
✨ Clever girl! ✨
Dontos chuckled. "My Jonquil's a clever girl, isn't she?" - Sansa IV, ACOK
x
"There's a clever girl." He smiled, his thin lips bright red from the pomegranate seeds. - Sansa VI, ASOS
x
"[...] It was clever of you to see it. Though no more than I'd expect of mine own daughter." - Sansa I, AFFC
x
Sers, the Lady Alayne, my natural and very clever daughter . . . - Alayne II, AFFC
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The tourney, the prizes, the winged knights, it had all been her own notion. Lord Robert's mother had filled him full of fears, but he always took courage from the tales she read him of Ser Artys Arryn, the Winged Knight of legend, founder of his line. Why not surround him with Winged Knights? She had thought one night, after Sweetrobin had finally drifted off to sleep. His own Kingsguard, to keep him safe and make him brave.
Sounds like something a queen might be responsible for planning.
Unreliable narrator Sansa Stark (or George R. R. Martin). Ser Artys Arryn was not the legendary Winged Knight from the Age of Heroes. Two different people.
I don't know if this is important or not, but while reading the history of Ser Artys, a few things stuck out.
Leading the attack was a champion in silvered steel, with a moon-and-falcon on his shield and wings upon his warhelm. Ser Artys Arryn had clad one of his knights retainer in his spare suit of armor, leaving him in camp whilst he himself took his best horsemen up and around a goat track that he remembered from his childhood, so they might reappear behind the First Men and descend on them from above. - The World of Ice and Fire
While fighting King Robar II Royce, Ser Artys used a decoy of himself, while he snuck up and around a goat track that he remembered from his childhood.
What's interesting about that is that Roose Bolton uses a decoy in ADWD, which fools Ramsay.
When the rider in the dark armor removed his helm, however, the face beneath was not one that Reek knew. Ramsay's smile curdled at the sight, and anger flashed across his face. "What is this, some mockery?" - Reek II, ADWD
But what really stands out is the goat tracks. I know a character who has deep appreciation for goat tracks being used during war.
"Goat tracks?" The king's eyes narrowed. "I speak of moving swiftly, and you waste my time with goat tracks?"
"When the Young Dragon conquered Dorne, he used a goat track to bypass the Dornish watchtowers on the Boneway." - Jon IV, ADWD
I don't know. It involved knights from the Vale, so it made me pause.
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Lord Nestor was showing Lady Waxley his prize tapestries, with their scenes of hunt and chase. The same panels had once hung in the Red Keep of King's Landing, when Robert sat the Iron Throne. Joffrey had them taken down and they had languished in some cellar until Petyr Baelish arranged for them to be brought to the Vale as a gift for Nestor Royce. Not only were the hangings beautiful, but the High Steward delighted in telling anyone who'd listen that they had once belonged to a king.
It's the conclusion of the most anticlimactic side plot in the entire series.
"Not as yet. In truth, he seems quite unconcerned. His last letter mentions the rebels only briefly before beseeching me to ship him some old tapestries of Robert's." - Cersei IV, AFFC
x
Petyr laughed. "Perhaps I shall. Or better still, to our sweet Cersei. Though I should not speak harshly of her, she is sending me some splendid tapestries. Isn't that kind of her?" - Alayne I, AFFC
This is nothing. It's only meant to showcase how Littlefinger purchases the loyalty of others.
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At the north end of the yard, three quintains had been set up, and some of the competitors were riding at them. Alayne knew them by their shields; the bells of Belmore, green vipers for the Lynderlys, the red sledge of Breakstone, House Tollett’s black and grey pily. Ser Mychel Redfort set one quintain spinning with a perfectly placed blow. He was one of those favored to win wings.
Showing off, as per usual. She's only doing this to make Arya look bad.
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"The Lord Protector's daughter," the bald knight announced, all hearty gallantry. He rose ponderously. "And full as lovely as the tales told of her, I see." Not to be outdone, the pimply knight hopped up and said, "Ser Ossifer speaks truly, you are the most beautiful maid in all the Seven Kingdoms." It might have been a sweeter courtesy had he not addressed it to her chest. "And have you seen all those maids yourself, ser?" Alayne asked him. "You are young to be so widely travelled."
"You are even lovelier than I was told, princess," he declared. "The queen has told me much and more of your beauty."
"How odd, when she has never seen me." - Jon XI, ADWD
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Alayne could not help but shutter. Myranda's husband had died when he was making love with her. "Those Sistermen who came in yesterday were gallant," she said, to change the subject. "If you don't like Ser Ossifer or Ser Uther, marry one of them instead. I thought the youngest one was very handsome." "The one in the sealskin cloak?" Randa said, incredulous. "One of his brothers, then." Myranda rolled her eyes. "They're from the Sisters. Did you ever know a Sisterman who could joust? They clean their swords with codfish oil and wash in tubs of cold seawater." “Well,” Alayne said, “at least they're clean.”
"Some of them have webs between their toes. [...]"
Uh huh.
Listen to me. Listen to me.
You know why this is here.
Davos: I:
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Wink, wink, nudge, nudge.
Remind me, what did we learn in Davos I?
To get home and call his banners, Stark had to cross the mountains to the Fingers and find a fisherman to carry him across the Bite. A storm caught them on the way. The fisherman drowned, but his daughter got Stark to the Sisters before the boat went down.
[...]
Our maester urged us to send Stark's head to Aerys, to prove our loyalty. It would have meant a rich reward.
[...]
That was when Stark said, 'In this world only winter is certain. We may lose our heads, it's true … but what if we prevail?' My father sent him on his way with his head still on his shoulders. 'If you lose,' he told Lord Eddard, 'you were never here.'" - Davos I, ADWD
Right, exactly. Go ahead and remind us of the Three Sisters in a Sansa chapter, George. Nobody can figure out where this is going.
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"Some of them have webs between their toes. I'd sooner marry Lord Petyr. Then I'd be your mother. How little is his finger, I ask you?"
Alayne did not dignify that question with an answer.
Totally normal thing you might ask his daughter.
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"Is that a promise or a threat?" Myranda said. "The first Lady Waynwood must have been a mare, I think. How else to explain why all the Waynwood men are horse-faced? If I were ever to wed a Waynwood, he would have to swear a vow to don his helm whenever he wished to fuck me, and keep the visor closed." She gave Alayne a pinch on the arm.
Um, I have a theory!
"No," Catelyn agreed. "You must name another heir, until such time as Jeyne gives you a son." She considered a moment. "Your father's father had no siblings, but his father had a sister who married a younger son of Lord Raymar Royce, of the junior branch. They had three daughters, all of whom wed Vale lordlings. A Waynwood and a Corbray, for certain. The youngest . . . it might have been a Templeton, but . . ." - Catelyn V, ASOS
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"My Harry will be with them, though. I notice that you left him out. I shall never forgive you for stealing him away from me. He's the boy I want to marry."
"The betrothal was my father's doing," Alayne protested, as she had a hundred times before. She is only teasing, she told herself… but behind the japes, she could hear the hurt.
We can't be certain, but she doesn't give off the same vibes as the other Myranda on the show.
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Alayne could not see the front of his shield from where she stood, but his attacker bore three ravens in flight, each clutching a red heart in its claws. Three hearts and three ravens. She knew right then how the fight would end. A few moments later and the big man sprawled dazed in the dust with his helm askew. When his squire undid the fastenings to bare his head, there was blood trickling down his scalp. If the swords had not been blunted, there would be brains as well. That last head blow had been so hard Alayne had winced in sympathy when it fell. Myranda Royce considered the victor thoughtfully. "Do you think if I asked nicely Ser Lyn would kill my suitors for me?" "He might, for a plump bag of gold." Ser Lyn Corbray was forever desperately short of coin, all the Vale knew that.
Based on my powerful foresight, I predict that Lyn Corbray will exhibit violent tendencies in the future, possibly while utilizing his Valyrian steel sword.
Don't ask me who the victim will be.
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There is truth in that, Alayne thought, but some demon of mischief was in her that morning, so she gave Ser Lyn a thrust of her own. Smiling sweetly, she said, "My lord father tells me your brother's new wife is with child." Corbray gave her a dark look. "Lyonel sends his regrets. He remains at Heart's Home with his peddler's daughter, watching her belly swell as if he were the first man who ever got a wench pregnant." Oh, that's an open wound, thought Alayne. Lyonel Corbray's first wife had given him nothing but a frail, sickly babe who died in infancy, and during all those years Ser Lyn had remained his brother's heir. When the poor woman finally died, however, Petyr Baelish had stepped in and brokered a new marriage for Lord Corbray. The second Lady Corbray was sixteen, the daughter of a wealthy Gulltown merchant, but she had come with an immense dowry, and men said she was a tall, strapping, healthy girl, with big breasts and good, wide hips. And fertile too, it seems. "We are all praying that the Mother grants Lady Corbray an easy labor and a healthy child," said Myranda. Alayne could not help herself. She smiled and said, "My father is always pleased to be of service to one of Lord Robert's leal bannermen. I'm sure he would be most delighted to help broker a marriage for you as well, Ser Lyn." "How kind of him." Corbray's lips drew back in something that might have been meant as a smile, though it gave Alayne a chill. "But what need have I for heirs when I am landless and like to remain so, thanks to our Lord Protector? No. Tell your lord father I need none of his brood mares." The venom in his voice was so thick that for a moment she almost forgot that Lyn Corbray was actually her father's catspaw, bought and paid for. Or was he? Perhaps, instead of being Petyr's man pretending to be Petyr's foe, he was actually his foe pretending to be his man pretending to be his foe.
Uh oh, Nostradamus senses something. There she goes leaking the plot again!
The king's own fool, the pie-faced simpleton called Moon Boy, danced about on stilts, all in motley, making mock of everyone with such deft cruelty that Sansa wondered if he was simple after all. - Sansa II, AGOT
x
Sansa shuddered. Every time she looked at Ser Ilyn Payne, she shivered. - Sansa III, AGOT
x
Varys was wringing his soft hands together, Grand Maester Pycelle kept his sleepy eyes on the papers in front of him, but she could feel Littlefinger staring. Something about the way the small man looked at her made Sansa feel as though she had no clothes on. Goose bumps pimpled her skin. - Sansa IV, AGOT
x
For his sigil he had taken a bloody spear, gold on a night-black field. The sight of it raised goose prickles up and down Sansa's arms. - Sansa V, AGOT
x
Ser Boros was short-tempered, Ser Meryn cold, and Ser Mandon's strange dead eyes made her uneasy - Sansa I, ACOK
x
"I don't want to." Lollys clutched at her maid, a slender, pretty girl with short dark hair who looked as though she wanted nothing so much as to shove her mistress into the dry moat, onto those iron spikes. "Please, please, I don't want to." - Sansa V, ACOK
x
Besides, the lords of the Trident were sworn to Riverrun and House Tully, and to the King in the North; they would never accept Littlefinger as their liege. Unless they are made to. Unless my brother and my uncle and my grandfather are all cast down and killed. The thought made Sansa anxious, but she told herself she was being silly. - Sansa VIII, ACOK
x
Yet the more she thought about it all, the more she wondered. Joff might restrain himself for a few turns, perhaps as long as a year, but soon or late he will show his claws, and when he does . . . The realm might have a second Kingslayer, and there would be war inside the city, as the men of the lion and the men of the rose made the gutters run red. - Sansa I, ASOS
Believe in Sansa. The bottom line is that Lyn Corbray is a problem, and he's not as loyal to Littlefinger as Littlefinger thinks. Where this goes, I couldn't tell you.
(I desperately wanted to highlight every instance of Daenerys incorrectly reading someone, but I chose to be an adult.)
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Alayne turned abruptly from the yard… and bumped into a short, sharp-faced man with a brush of orange hair who had come up behind her. His hand shot out and caught her arm before she could fall. "My lady. My pardons if I took you unawares." "The fault was mine. I did not see you standing there." "We mice are quiet creatures." Ser Shadrich was so short that he might have been taken for a squire, but his face belonged to a much older man. She saw long leagues in the wrinkles at the corner of his mouth, old battles in the scar beneath his ear, and a hardness behind the eyes that no boy would ever have. This was a man grown. Even Randa overtopped him, though. "Will you be seeking wings?" the Royce girl said. "A mouse with wings would be a silly sight." "Perhaps you will try the melee instead?" Alayne suggested. The melee was an afterthought, a sop for all the brothers, uncles, fathers, and friends who had accompanied the competitors to the Gates of the Moon to see them win their silver wings, but there would be prizes for the champions, and a chance to win ransoms. "A good melee is all a hedge knight can hope for, unless he stumbles on a bag of dragons. And that's not likely, is it?"
Speaking of problems.
You know who Varys is, I trust? The eunuch has offered a plump bag of gold for this girl you've never heard of. I am not a greedy man. If some oversized wench would help me find this naughty child, I would split the Spider's coin with her. - Brienne I, AFFC
The following is speculative, but also highly rational in my opinion.
It would be incredibly illogical for the author to introduce Ser Shadrich in Brienne's first chapter, reveal his objective to the reader, have him show up in the Vale near the same book's conclusion, clearly signal to the reader that he's correctly identified Sansa, and then proceed to not utilize him in any meaningful way. This is not what a red herring looks like.
There's probably a reason why Brienne's been gifted the knowledge of his appearance, and his objective. Brienne may not know what Alayne looks like, but she does know what Ser Shadrich looks like.
There's probably a reason why Brienne gauges both of their fighting skills while anticipating a potential encounter. (Come on.)
The Mad Mouse, she thought, at her first sight of him. Somehow he's followed me. Her hand went to her sword hilt, and she found herself wondering if Ser Shadrich would think her easy prey just because she was a woman. [...] If it was Ser Shadrich dogging her heels, she might well have a fight on her hands. She did not intend to partner with the man or let him follow her to Sansa. He had the sort of easy arrogance that comes with skill at arms, she thought, but he was small. I'll have the reach on him, and I should be stronger too. - Brienne II, AFFC
We watched Brienne intercept a Stark daughter three different times on the show.
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None of these scenes can happen in the books, but we already know the show creators drew inspiration from canon events, and assigned different characters to the roles.
They gave the role of Biter to the Hound and made Brienne fight him, do you not think it's also possible one of these scenes is inspired by Brienne intercepting Shadrich and Sansa in the books?
"But Brienne's currently captured by Lady Stoneheart near Pennytree, and has a broken arm and face!"
Sansa's 👏 and 👏 Brienne's 👏 storylines 👏 aren't 👏 synchronized.
He told us what Brienne would do! He told us!
The Eyrie would be simpler, and Lady Lysa would surely welcome her sister's daughter . . .
Ahead, the alley bent. Somehow Brienne had taken a wrong turn. She found herself in a dead end, a small muddy yard where three pigs were rooting round a low stone well.
[...]
"I was looking for the Seven Swords."
"Back the way you come. Left at the sept."
"I thank you." Brienne turned to retrace her steps, and walked headfirst into someone hurrying round the bend. - Brienne II, AFFC
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Brienne 👏 will 👏 escape! She'll 👏 turn 👏 back!
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They made a race of it, dashing headlong across the yard and past the stables, skirts flapping, whilst knights and serving men alike looked on, and pigs and chickens scattered before them. It was most unladylike, but Alayne sound found herself laughing. For just a little while, as she ran, she forget who she was, and where, and found herself remembering bright cold days at Winterfell, when she would race through Winterfell with her friend Jeyne Poole, with Arya running after them trying to keep up.
Always nice seeing her act her age.
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Harry the Heir, Alayne thought. My husband-to-be, if he will have me. A sudden terror filled her. She wondered if her face was red. Don't stare at him, she reminded herself, don't stare, don't gape, don't gawk. Look away. Her hair must be a frightful mess after all that running. It took all her will to stop herself from trying to tuck the loose strands back into place. Never mind your stupid hair. Your hair doesn't matter. It's him that matters. Him, and the Waynwoods. Ser Roland was the oldest of the three, though no more than five-and-twenty. He was taller and more muscular than Ser Wallace, but both were long-faced and lantern-jawed, with stringy brown hair and pinched noses. Horsefaced and homely, Alayne thought. Harry, though… My Harry. My lord, my lover, my betrothed.Ser Harrold Hardyng looked every inch a lord-in-waiting; clean-limbed and handsome, straight as a lance, hard with muscle. Men old enough to have known Jon Arryn in his youth said Ser Harrold had his look, she knew. He had a mop of sandy blond hair, pale blue eyes, an aquiline nose. Joffrey was comely too, though, she reminded herself. A comely monster, that’s what he was. Little Lord Tyrion was kinder, twisted though he was.
Wow, how much do you love that?
Sansa directly compares the horse-faced Waynwoods, who have Stark lineage and were once potential heirs to Robb, to the more attractive Harry Hardyng (aka Joffrey).
I'm sorry, you have to see this:
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Un-fucking-real. So close. They're always so close.
Yeah guys, why isn't she thinking about Arya? It's obvious we're supposed to be thinking about Arya during this passage. The author's intentions here are clear, the subtext is Arya. Sansa comparing these Stark-ish, likable Waynwood men to the comely yet rude Harry the Heir is totally about Arya. Arya's written all over this. We're so clever to see it.
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Side note,
Joffrey was comely too, though, she reminded herself. A comely monster, that's what he was.
x
"Beauty can be treacherous. My brother learned that lesson from Cersei Lannister. [...]." - Jon XI, ASOS
Love when my babies both learn about beauty's hidden dangers!
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"I look forward to a spirited discussion." Ser Roland swung down from his horse, turned to Alayne, and smiled. "I had heard that Lord Littlefinger's daughter was fair of face and full of grace, but no one ever told me that she was a thief." "You wrong me, ser. I am no thief!" Ser Roland placed his hand over his heart. "Then how do you explain this hole in my chest, from where you stole my heart?"
Man, these horsey Waynwoods are crushing hard on Sansa. hehehehe.
Instead, he blamed Jon Snow and wondered when Jon's heart had turned to stone. - Samwell III, AFFC
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"You are in the Falcon Tower, Ser Harrold," Alayne put in. Far away from Sweetrobin. That was intentional, she knew. Petyr Baelish did not leave such things to chance. "If it please you, I will show you to your chambers myself." This time her eyes met Harry's. She smiled just for him, and said a silent prayer to the Maiden. Please, he doesn't need to love me, just make him like me, just a little, that would be enough for now. Ser Harrold looked down at her coldly. "Why should it please me to be escorted anywhere by Littlefinger's bastard?"
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A lady's armor is her courtesy. Alayne could feel the blood rushing to her face. No tears, she prayed. Please, please, I must not cry. "As you wish, ser. And now if you will excuse me, Littlefinger's bastard must find her lord father and let him know that you have come, so we can begin the tourney on the morrow." And may your horse stumble, Harry the Heir, so you fall on your stupid head in your first tilt. She showed the Waynwoods a stone face as they blurted out awkward apologies for their companion. When they were done she turned and fled. Near the keep, she ran headlong into Ser Lothor Brune and almost knocked him off his feet. "Harry the Heir? Harry the Arse, I say. He's just some upjumped squire." Alayne was so grateful that she hugged him. "Thank you. Have you seen my father, ser?"
Oopsie daisy, Nostradamus has returned.
The most terrifying moment of the day came during Ser Gregor's second joust, when his lance rode up and struck a young knight from the Vale under the gorget with such force that it drove through his throat, killing him instantly. The youth fell not ten feet from where Sansa was seated. The point of Ser Gregor's lance had snapped off in his neck, and his life's blood flowed out in slow pulses, each weaker than the one before. His armor was shiny new; a bright streak of fire ran down his outstretched arm, as the steel caught the light. Then the sun went behind a cloud, and it was gone. His cloak was blue, the color of the sky on a clear summer's day, trimmed with a border of crescent moons, but as his blood seeped into it, the cloth darkened and the moons turned red, one by one. - Sansa II, AGOT
x
"Look at that upjumped oaf," Joff hooted, loud enough for half the yard to hear.
[...]
I hope he falls and shames himself, she thought bitterly. I hope Ser Balon kills him. When Joffrey proclaimed her father's death, it had been Janos Slynt who seized Lord Eddard's severed head by the hair and raised it on high for king and crowd to behold, while Sansa wept and screamed.
Morros dropped his lance, fought for balance, and lost. One foot caught in a stirrup as he fell, and the runaway charger dragged the youth to the end of the lists, head bouncing against the ground. Joff hooted derision. Sansa was appalled, wondering if the gods had heard her vengeful prayer. - Sansa I, ACOK
x
At the last possible instant, Ser Humfrey's [Hardyng] stallion reared away from the oncoming point, eyes rolling in terror, but too late, Aerion's lance took the animal just above the armor that protected his breastbone, and exploded out of the back of his neck in a gout of bright blood. Screaming, the horse crashed sideways, knocking the wooden barrier to pieces as he fell. Ser Humfrey [Hardyng] tried to leap free, but a foot caught in a stirrup and they heard his shriek as his leg was crushed between the splintered fence and falling horse. - The Hedge Knight
A knight from the Vale.
Correctly predicting it will happen to an upjumped oaf.
A Hardyng.
There are two certainties in this life: death and Harrold Hardyng falling off his horse. (Plenty of people don't pay their taxes.)
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The vaults were large and dark and filthy. Alayne lit a taper and clutched her skirt as she made the descent. Near the bottom, she heard Lord Grafton's booming voice, and followed. "The merchants are clamoring to buy, and the lords are clamoring to sell," the Gulltowner was saying when she found them. Though not a tall man, Grafton was wide, with thick arms and shoulders. His hair was a dirty blond mop. "How am I to stop that, my lord?" "Post guardsmen on the docks. If need be, seize the ships. How does not matter, so long as no food leaves the Vale." "These prices, though," protested fat Lord Belmore," these prices are more than fair." "You say more than fair, my lord. I say less than we would wish. Wait. If need be, buy the food yourself and keep it stored. Winter is coming. Prices must go higher." "Perhaps," said Belmore, doubtfully. "Bronze Yohn will not wait," Grafton complained. "He need not ship through Gulltown, he has his own ports. Whilst we are hoarding our harvest, Royce and the other Lords Declarant will turn theirs into silver, you may be sure of that."
I smell converging storylines!
Our best hope may be the Eyrie. The Vale of Arryn was famously fertile and had gone untouched during the fighting. Jon wondered how Lady Catelyn's sister would feel about feeding Ned Stark's bastard. - Jon IV, ADWD
Someone cut Littlefinger's head off, so everyone can eat.
Anyway, there's more Gulltown. Gulltown, Gulltown, Gulltown!
She might do better to take ship for Gulltown or White Harbor. I could do both, though. - Brienne II, AFFC
x
If the Stinking Goose yields nothing, I will take passage on a ship, she decided. Gulltown was only a short voyage away. From there she could make her way to the Eyrie easily enough. - Brienne III, AFFC
x
"Gulltown next," her captain told her, "thence around the Fingers to Sisterton and White Harbor, if the storms allow. She's a clean ship, 'Strider, not so many rats as most, and we'll have fresh eggs and new-churned butter aboard. Is m'lady seeking passage north?"
"No." Not yet. She was tempted, but . . . - Brienne V, AFFC
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NOT YET. NOT YET! GULLTOWN -> SISTERTON -> WHITE HARBOR. HE TOLD US. HE FORESHADOWS EVERYTHING. IT'S RIGHT THERE.
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"And is Ser Harrold with them?" Horrible Ser Harrold. "He is." Lord Belmore laughed. "I never thought Royce would let him come. Is he blind, or merely stupid?" "He is honorable. Sometimes it amounts to the same thing. If he denied the lad the chance to prove himself, it could create a rift between them, so why not let him tilt? The boy is nowise skilled enough to win a place amongst the Winged Knights."
Gosh, since his introduction, it seems like we've been constantly reminded that this upjumped squire is rather inept when it comes to sports.
"Our cousin Bronze Yohn had himself a mêlée at Runestone," Myranda Royce went on, oblivious, "a small one, just for squires. It was meant for Harry the Heir to win the honors, and so he did." - Alayne II, AFFC
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"Come," Petyr said, "walk with me." He took her by the arm and led her deeper into the vaults, past an empty dungeon.
I will cut your eyelids off.
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"Yes," she said, "but why must he be so cruel? He called me your bastard. Right in the yard, in front of everyone." "So far as he knows, that's who you are. This betrothal was never his idea, and Bronze Yohn has no doubt warned him against my wiles. You are my daughter. He does not trust you, and he believes that you're beneath him." "Well, I'm not. He may think he's some great knight, but Ser Lothor says he's just some upjumped squire."
Sansa's acquiring a new perspective through experiential learning: understanding the bastard experience. Aww. <3
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Petyr put his arm around her. "So he is, but he is Robert's heir as well. Bringing Harry here was the first step in our plan, but now we need to keep him, and only you can do that. He has a weakness for a pretty face, and whose face is prettier than yours? Charm him. Entrance him. Bewitch him."
Getting to the good stuff.
I'll tell you one thing, I have more faith in Sansa successfully accomplishing this than 6-year-old Alys Karstark.
(-> -> -> Jon X?)
"It is my own fault. My lord father told me I must charm your brother Robb, but I was only six and didn't know how."
Aye, but now you're almost six-and-ten, and we must pray you will know how to charm your new husband. - Jon X, ADWD
I've said it a million times in other Sansa chapters, so I won't elaborate, but if you truly believe Littlefinger's plan is to wed Catelyn 2.0 to imitation Brandon Stark, you might be out of your mind.
Petyr put his arm around her.
I will pluck every hair from your head, and genitals.
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"I don't know how," she said miserably. "Oh, I think you do," said Littlefinger, with one of those smiles that did not reach his eyes.
Excluding the instance where she copied Harry's words, that is the only time she calls him Littlefinger in this chapter.
She hasn't forgotten.
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"You will be the most beautiful woman in the hall tonight, as lovely as your lady mother at your age. I cannot seat you on the dais, but you'll have a place of honor above the salt and underneath a wall sconce. The fire will be shining in your hair, so everyone will see how fair of face you are. Keep a good long spoon on hand to beat the squires off, sweetling. You will not want green boys underfoot when the knights come round to beg you for your favor." "Who would ask to wear a bastard's favor?"
"Harry, if he has the wits the gods gave a goose… but do not give it to him. Choose some other gallant, and favor him instead. You do not want to seem too eager."
I'd be hesitant to allow fire to shine in Sansa's hair.
This feels like a developing story. I'd love to know who is getting this favor if it's not Harry the Arse.
He had worn her favor in the Battle of the Blackwater, where he'd slain a Myrish crossbowman and a Mullendore man-at-arms. "Alyn said her favor made him fearless," said Megga. "He says he shouted her name for his battle cry, isn't that ever so gallant? Someday I want some champion to wear my favor, and kill a hundred men." - Sansa II, ASOS
x
"Saving yourself for Lord Robert?" Lady Myranda teased. "Or is there some ardent squire dreaming of your favors?" - Alayne II, AFFC
x
Edmure escorted her up the water stair and across the lower bailey, where Petyr Baelish and Brandon Stark had once crossed swords for her favor.  - Catelyn XI, AGOT
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"Lady Waynwood will insist that Harry dance with you, I can promise you that much. That will be your chance. Smile at the boy. Touch him when you speak. Tease him, to pique his pride. If he seems to be responding, tell him that you are feeling faint, and ask him to take you outside for a breath of fresh air. No knight could refuse such a request from a fair maiden."
The above won't happen, but in her next chapter, I'll be super on edge whenever she's exposed and there aren't many people around.
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Petyr drew her close and kissed her on both cheeks. "The night belongs to you, sweetling, Remember that, always."
I will make you deepthroat a cactus.
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The feast proved to be everything her father promised. Sixty-four dishes were served, in honor of the sixty-four competitors who had come so far to contest for silver wings before their lord. From the rivers and the lakes came pike and trout and salmon, from the seas crabs and cod and herring. Ducks there were, and capons, peacocks in their plumage and swans in almond milk. Suckling pigs were served up crackling with apples in their mouths, and three huge aurochs were roasted whole above firepits in the castle yard, since they were too big to get through the kitchen doors. Loaves of hot bread filled the trestle tables in Lord Nestor's hall, and massive wheels of cheese were brought up from the vaults. The butter was fresh-churned, and there were leeks and carrots, roasted onions, beets, turnips, parsnips. And best of all, Lord Nestor's cooks prepared a splendid subtlety, a lemon cake in the shape of the Giant's Lance, twelve feet tall and adorned with an Eyrie made of sugar. For me, Alayne thought, as they wheeled it out. Sweetrobin loved lemon cakes too, but only after she told him that they were her favorites. The cake had required every lemon in the Vale, but Petyr had promised that he would send to Dorne for more.
A splendid subtlety, lol.
Nice, Littlefinger gifted her a giant penis. I wonder if the ones from Dorne taste any better. (I'm sorry.)
Look, it's a feast!
(-> -> -> Jon X?)
The stewards began to bring out the first dish, an onion broth flavored with bits of goat and carrot. Not precisely royal fare, but nourishing; it tasted good enough and warmed the belly. Owen the Oaf took up his fiddle, and several of the free folk joined in with pipes and drums. The same pipes and drums they played to sound Mance Rayder's attack upon the Wall. Jon thought they sounded sweeter now. With the broth came loaves of coarse brown bread, warm from the oven. Salt and butter sat upon the tables. - Jon X, ADWD
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When the last course had been served and cleared, the tables were lifted from their trestles to clear the floor for dancing, and musicians were brought in.
[...] "As am I," Coldwater said. Rising, he offered Alayne his hand. "Would you honor me with this dance, my lady?" "You're very kind," she said, as he led her to the floor. He was her first partner of the evening, but far from the last. Just as Petyr had promised, the young knights flocked around her, vying for her favor. After Ben came Andrew Tollett, handsome Ser Byron, red-nosed Ser Morgarth, and Ser Shadrich the Mad Mouse. Then Ser Albar Royce, Myranda's stout dull brother and Lord Nestor's heir. She danced with all three Sunderlands, none of whom had webs between their fingers, though she could not vouch for their toes. Uther Shett appeared to pay her slimy compliments as he trod upon her feet, but Ser Targon the Halfwild proved to be the soul of courtesy. After that Ser Roland Waynwood swept her up and made her laugh with mocking comments about half the other knights in the hall. His uncle Wallace took a turn as well and tried to do the same, but the words would not come. Alayne finally took pity on him and began to chatter happily, to spare him the embarrassment. When the dance was done she excused herself, and went back to her place to have a drink of wine.
Oh my goodness, they're dancing! Ser Jon Waynwood sounds like a hoot.
(-> -> -> Jon X?)
The queen's men outnumbered the queen's ladies three to one, so even the humblest serving girls were pressed into the dance. After a few songs some black brothers remembered skills learned at the courts and castles of their youth, before their sins had sent them to the Wall, and took the floor as well. That old rogue Ulmer of the Kingswood proved as adept at dancing as he was at archery, no doubt regaling his partners with his tales of the Kingswood Brotherhood, when he rode with Simon Toyne and Big Belly Ben and helped Wenda the White Fawn burn her mark in the buttocks of her highborn captives. Satin was all grace, dancing with three serving girls in turn but never presuming to approach a highborn lady. 
[...]
"You could dance with me, you know. It would be only courteous. You danced with me anon."
"Anon?" teased Jon.
"When we were children." She tore off a bit of bread and threw it at him. "As you know well."
"My lady should dance with her husband." - Jon X, ADWD
Dance with me, Jon Snow! You'll dance with me anon.
Don't be offended Alys, you're not the right partner.
When the musicians began to play, she timidly laid her hand on Tyrion's and said, "My lord, should we lead the dance?"
His mouth twisted. "I think we have already given them sufficent amusement for one day, don't you?" - Sansa III, ASOS
And neither was he.
I won't get too deep into each dance partner, because this post is long enough, but I'm sure you can see there's more than a few allusions to Jon (Coldwater, Tollett, Ser Byron, Royce, etc.).
Read more here:
Allusions to Jon in The Dance Partners of TWOW, Alayne I (@cappymightwrite)
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And there he stood, Harry the Heir himself; tall, handsome, scowling. "Lady Alayne. May I partner you in this dance?" She considered for a moment. "No. I don't think so." Color rose to his cheeks. "I was unforgivably rude to you in the yard. You must forgive me." "Must?" She tossed her hair, took a sip of wine, made him wait. "How can you forgive someone who is unforgivably rude? Will you explain that to me, ser?" Ser Harrold looked confused. "Please. One dance."
Charm him. Entrance him. Bewitch him. "If you insist."
Boo, hiss. Wrong dance partner!
She'll talk circles around you if you let her.
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He nodded, offered his arm, led her out onto the floor. As they waited for the music to resume, Alayne glanced at the dais, where Lord Robert sat staring at them. Please, she prayed, don’t let him start to twitch and shake. Not here. Not now. Maester Coleman would have made certain that he drank a strong dose of sweetmilk before the feast, but even so.
Oh good, the doctor who keeps tempting fate is back.
Just give him a cup of the sweetmilk before we go, and another at the feast, and there should be no trouble."
"Very well." They paused at the foot of the stairs. "But this must be the last. For half a year, or longer." - Alayne II, AFFC
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Instead she said, "I have heard that you are about to be a father." It was not something most girls would say to their almost-betrothed, but she wanted to see if Ser Harrold would lie. "For the second time. My daughter Alys is two years old."
Your bastard daughter Alys, Alayne thought, but what she said was, "That one had a different mother, though."
What a totally unique name we've given this kid!
(-> -> -> Jon X?)
Jon turned to Alys Karstark. "My lady. Are you ready?" - Jon X, ADWD
Did I say he's Brandon Stark? I meant Brandon Stark with a little hint of Robert Baratheon.
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"Yes. Cissy was a pretty thing when I tumbled her, but childbirth left her as fat as a cow, so Lady Anya arranged for her to marry one of her men-at-arms. It is different with Saffron." "Saffron?" Alayne tried not to laugh. "Truly?" Ser Harrold had the grace to blush. "Her father says she is more precious to him than gold. He's rich, the richest man in Gulltown. A fortune in spices." "What will you name the babe?" she asked. "Cinnamon if she's a girl? Cloves if he's a boy?"
That roast is worthy of applause.
Fun words are everywhere!
(-> -> -> Jon X?)
"Hobb's mulled some wine with cinnamon and cloves. That'll warm us some."
"What's cloves?" asked Owen the Oaf. - Jon X, ADWD
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"Saffron is very beautiful, I'll have you know. Tall and slim, with big brown eyes and hair like honey." Alayne raised her head. "More beautiful than me?" Ser Harrold studied her face. "You are comely enough, I grant you. When Lady Anya first told me of this match, I was afraid that you might look like your father." "Little pointy beard and all?" Alayne laughed. "I never meant..." "I hope you joust better than you talk."
I am extremely confident he does not.
Are tall girls with honey in their hair his type? Too bad.
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For a moment he looked shocked. But as the song was ending, he burst into a laugh. "No one told me you were clever."
✨ Clever girl! ✨
Melisandre closed her eyes, remembering. "West."
"She is not coming up the kingsroad, then. Clever girl. [...]" - Melisandre I, ADWD
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He has good teeth, she thought, straight and white. And when he smiles, he has the nicest dimples. She ran one finger down his cheek. "Should we ever wed, you'll have to send Saffron back to her father. I'll be all the spice you'll want." He grinned. "I will hold you to that promise, my lady. Until that day, may I wear your favor in the tourney?" "You may not. It is promised to… another." She was not sure who as yet, but she knew she would find someone.
Before I get to the last bit, can I tell you something?
I read a sizeable amount of fandom commentary on this chapter, and not one single person contemplated who she's saving her favor for. It didn't come up once.
People are either deliberately avoiding asking themselves that question, or they believe the ending of this chapter is insignificant, and the topic won't resurface again. I'm not sure which one annoys me more.
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"You may not. It is promised to… another." She was not sure who as yet, but she knew she would find someone.
Now turn the page.
(-> -> -> Jon X?)
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It's the Alys Karstark x Sigorn wedding chapter! Yay.
Interestingly, in the first few pages of that chapter, the author intentionally creates an initial impression that it's Jon Snow who is marrying Alys Karstark. Curious, isn't it?
Let's discuss what we know about the bride, who the author led us to believe Jon Snow was marrying.
According to the fandom, Alys Karstark is Jon Snow's girl in grey. Small problem with that, she never wears grey, and never travels near a body of water to get to Castle Black.
"I saw water. Deep and blue and still, with a thin coat of ice just forming on it. It seemed to go on and on forever."
"Long Lake. What else did you see around this girl?" - Melisandre I, ADWD
However, she was fleeing from a forced marriage. Her great-uncle has assumed the role of Lord of Karhold, and made her a match, despite lacking any rightful claim to the land or castle.
Your uncle … would that be Lord Arnolf?" "He is no lord," Alys said scornfully. [...] Uncle Arnolf is only castellan. - Jon IX, ADWD
"Lysa was murdered before the document could be presented for her signature, so I signed as Lord Protector. I knew that would have been her wish." - Sansa I, AFFC
The marriage is to her uncle, Cregan Karstark. Sorry, I should clarify this uncle isn't actually her uncle, it's just what they call him.
He's my great-uncle, actually, my father's uncle. Cregan is his son. I suppose that makes him a cousin, but we always called him uncle. Now they mean to make me call him husband. - Jon IX, ADWD
"Wed?" Sansa was stunned. "You and my aunt?" - Sansa VI, ASOS
x
"I am Alayne, Father. Who else would I be?" - Sansa I, AFFC
Perhaps you're wondering how we arrived at this point. Long ago, Alys' father desired her to marry the future Lord of Winterfell. Unfortunately, at that time, she was too young to captivate him with her charm.
"It is my own fault. My lord father told me I must charm your brother Robb, but I was only six and didn't know how." - Jon X, ADWD
Charm him. Entrance him. Bewitch him. "If you insist." - Alayne I, TWOW
Instead, she was betrothed to Daryn Hornwood, and they were patiently awaiting her coming of age.
Before the war I was betrothed to Daryn Hornwood. We were only waiting till I flowered to be wed - Jon IX, ADWD
If they do that … why, then we shall know that there is no taint in your blood, and when you come into the flower of your womanhood, you shall wed the king in the Great Sept of Baelor, before the eyes of gods and men. - Sansa IV, AGOT
Sadly, Daryn Hornwood died in the war. Rickard Karstark was forced to find her another lord to marry.
My father wrote that he would find some southron lord to wed me, but he never did. - Jon IX, ADWD
When you're old enough, I will make you a match with a high lord who's worthy of you, someone brave and gentle and strong. - Sansa III, AGOT
Of course all that went to shit when Rickard Karstark got his head cut off.
Your brother Robb cut off his head for killing Lannisters. - Jon IX, ADWD
"But they have the soft hearts of women. So long as I am your king, treason shall never go unpunished. Ser Ilyn, bring me his head!" - Arya V, AGOT
Now, it's worth mentioning that Alys' older brother Harrion is the rightful heir to Karhold. However, if he were to die, Alys would inherit Karhold, which ambitious men like her uncles are aware of.
Should my brother die, Karhold should pass to me, but my uncles want my birthright for their own. - Jon IX, ADWD
"But he does not know you," Dontos insisted, "and he will not love you. Jonquil, Jonquil, open your sweet eyes, these Tyrells care nothing for you. It's your claim they mean to wed."
[...]
She never thought to have a claim, but with Bran and Rickon dead . . . It doesn't matter, there's still Robb, he's a man grown now, and soon he'll wed and have a son. - Sansa II, ASOS
x
"The man who weds Sansa Stark can claim Winterfell in her name," his uncle Kevan put in. "Had that not occurred to you?" - Tyrion IV, ASOS
x
"Winterfell has withstood fiercer enemies than me. It is Winterfell, is it not?"
"Yes," Sansa admitted.
He walked along outside the walls. "I used to dream of it, in those years after Cat went north with Eddard Stark. In my dreams it was ever a dark place, and cold." - Sansa VII, ASOS
Thankfully, most people in this story are familiar with the rules of succession.
If her brother is dead, Karhold belongs to Lady Alys. - Jon X, ADWD
Jon said, "Winterfell belongs to my sister Sansa." - Jon IV, ADWD
Hence, the arranged marriage. Enter Cregan Karstark, a dangerous man who covets her birthright. He has a dark history, having buried multiple wives, and he would no longer need Alys if she ever had his child.
Once Cregan gets a child by me they won't need me anymore. He's buried two wives already. - Jon IX, ADWD
"Only Cat." He gave her a short, sharp shove.
Lysa stumbled backward, her feet slipping on the wet marble. - Sansa VII, ASOS
x
Arya's gone, the same as Bran and Rickon, and they'll kill Sansa too once the dwarf gets a child from her. - Catelyn V, ASOS
Fear not, for this story finds a happy ending. Before her not-uncle can get his hands on her, our hero Jon Snow intervenes and arranges a marriage between Alys and a wildling, ensuring her safety and happiness.
"So," said Alys, as Jon poured, "I am now a woman wed. A wildling husband with his own little wildling army." - Jon X, ADWD
I see what you are, Snow. Half a wolf and half a wildling, baseborn get of a traitor and a whore. - Jon X, ADWD
The guy is such a white knight, he even daydreams of gifting her Cregan's head! (Thank you @that-plo-koon for that one.)
I should make his head a wedding gift for Lady Alys and her Magnar, Jon thought, but dare not take the risk. - Jon X, ADWD
[...] wishing she could hurt him, wishing that some hero would throw him down and cut off his head. - Sansa VI, AGOT
x
"Tromp tromp I'm a giant, I'm a giant," he chanted. "Ho ho ho, open your gates or I'll mash them and smash them." - Sansa VII
[...]
A mad rage seized hold of her. She picked up a broken branch and smashed the torn doll's head down on top of it, then pushed it down atop the shattered gatehouse of her snow castle. The servants looked aghast, but when Littlefinger saw what she'd done he laughed. "If the tales be true, that's not the first giant to end up with his head on Winterfell's walls." - Sansa VII, ASOS
Isn't that a great story? Other than a few amusing nuggets, that mostly covers everything.
My brother Harry is the rightful lord - Jon IX, ADWD [Brother Harry]
"Harry the Heir?" - Alayne II, AFFC [Father Harry]
x
Jon turned to Alys Karstark. "My lady. Are you ready?" - Jon X, ADWD [Sister Alys]
Your bastard daughter Alys, Alayne thought - Alayne I, TWOW [Daughter Alys]
So that's Alys Karstark, the girl George had us believing Jon Snow was marrying, in a chapter likely intended to follow this one.
While we're on the topic of that Jon Snow fakeout wedding, can I tell you what my favourite passage was?
The girl smiled in a way that reminded Jon so much of his little sister that it almost broke his heart. "Let him be scared of me." The snowflakes were melting on her cheeks, but her hair was wrapped in a swirl of lace that Satin had found somewhere, and the snow had begun to collect there, giving her a frosty crown. Her cheeks were flushed and red, and her eyes sparkled. - Jon X, ADWD
Ha ha ha! Me too, bud. I am also reminded of your little sister.
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Boy, what a ride that was.
Final thoughts:
Fam,
WE DID IT!
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I can't believe I finished.
-> return to menu <-
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pathetic-sapphic · 10 months
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Welcome to my blog!
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Hello! My name is Rina, I use she/her pronouns and I'm a 21 yo femme lesbian. I write headcanons and fanfiction for several fandoms (which will be listed below), so feel free to send in requests (when they are open, you can see the status in my bio).
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nerdieforpedro · 1 month
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VI - Arms
Only Parts of you Mr. Morales
Frankie Morales x Belinda (plus size OFC)
This fic and my blog overall is for readers 18+ MDNI
Word Count: 599
Summary: Belinda's home used to be for one, now it's for two.
Warnings: We moved from hands to arms!, implied sexual activity, domestic fluff, the sofa is doing a lot of work
Notes: I feel like Frankie would tell you that he's happy to be of service to you. I would like to let him know that I am very happy he's of service to us. Thank you Frankie. 🫡
Main Masterlist/ Frankie "Catfish" Morales Masterlist/ Only Parts of you Mr. Morales Series
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A light chuckle graced Belinda’s face as saw Frankie bring in the last box out of his truck. Santiago, Will, and Benny were already inside drinking a beer each as Carmen dolled out the pizza and slapped Will’s hand for trying to grab a slice early. “That’s not the Miller brother I expected that from.” Benny laughed and high fived Carmen in solidarity that his brother Will is sneakier than people realize. Everyone polished off the pizza and helped clean up before leaving.
Once they were all gone, powerful arms wrapped around Belinda, pinning her to the front door from behind. “Carino, tonight’s the first night I don’t have to leave for any reason. Let’s work our way to the bedroom.” Boxing her in is something Frankie enjoys doing especially when he can take his time. Stripping her piece by piece until his dear lady is a sopping, whining mess trying to pull him closer by the very arms she needs to hold onto to remain upright. 
In an hour, they reach the bedroom and the two of them are naked, though it’s Morales who’s been pinned. As he’d often joke, “I’m happy to be of service.” To which Belinda would roll her eyes and give his arm a playful slap. Tonight’s smack however, was to Frankie’s ass when things were switched around and he was rutting into her like she was trying to escape. Furthest from it, nails were scratching his biceps while she accepted what he was giving her. 
Later, awake in his stalwart embrace, listening to his heart beat, Belinda felt calm for the first time since they’d begun this relationship change. He was here and he wasn’t going to go anywhere, except work, maybe visit family and friends, but he’d come home. To her. They’d have a home together. 
Frankie normally wakes early in the morning. It’s why when he’s at Belinda’s he makes the coffee and makes breakfast on days they don’t need to be up early. Well now it’s their house. It’s taken some time to settle into the idea and even after he’s all moved in complete with her clearing out half of her closet and drawers for him. Putting a new filter in the coffee maker, setting up with grounds, and water are all automatic for him. Something he appreciates and he can do it even more now. A familiar hand ruffles his hair and plants a kiss to his bicep then back before putting her own arms around him. “Buenos días (good morning) Francisco. You’re already on coffee duty, you could have stayed in bed a bit more.” 
“Maybe, but then we wouldn’t have left the bed until afternoon.” He’s only half joking. Releasing him, Belinda gets two mugs and sets them on the counter. His thick arm placed itself across her shoulders. “Mi bizcochito (my little cake) our  home.”
Taking the coffee pot and pouring them both a fresh cup of coffee ready for all the cream and sugar, Belinda cups Frankie’s chin with his trademark patchy beard. “Mi osito, (Mi bear) I’m happy to be of service.” She kisses the small heart shaped area that hair doesn’t grow between his cheek and jaw. 
Morales grins while he crowds Belinda against the kitchen island. The coffee grows cold while they make a familiar and sweaty trek toward the bedroom, but only made it to the sofa this time. His arms wrap around her again as he looks down at her before bottoming out within her. “I’m home Belinda, mi amor (my love).”
“Yes you are Francisco. Our home together.”
Thighs. Eyes
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Those who are held in Frankie's arms: @yorksgirl @megamindsecretlair @guelyury @soft-persephone @legendary-pink-dot
@bitchwitch1981 @katw474 @rosecentury @rhoorl @mysterious-moonstruck-musings
@trulybetty @maggiemayhemnj @schnarfer @rav3n-pascal22 @bishtrouille
@alltheotps @pedroshotwifey
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tisiphonewolfe · 1 year
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Writeblr Intro
Heyo!
I'm Tisiphone - or Tiss, or Tizzy, I don't mind (she/her). I mainly write SFF, but I intend to try my hand at horror and potentially espionage thrillers in the future. I also can't seem to write anything without women being very gay in the middle of it all, so I'm leaning into it.
I follow from @princessw0lf
About me:
I'm a disabled trans lesbian from the UK
What I like seeing in books? Mysteries woven through the plot that resolve satisfyingly. Characters that bounce off each other and grate against each other in interesting ways. Weird romances that don't dominate the plot, but are a key part of it. Great character development.
Favourite books? The Locked Tomb Series by Tamsyn Muir, The Unspoken Name by A.K. Larkwood, Malice by Heather Walter, The Priory of the Orange Tree by Samantha Shannon. And a lot of Terry Pratchett.
Fiction I probably won't enjoy? Something where the plot is purely interpersonal drama or romance with nothing interesting happening outside of it. Literary fiction. YA.
Outside of writing? By day I'm a software developer. The rest of my time is spent drawing, playing games both video and tabletop, and playing electric guitar (badly).
DMs/Asks/Tag games? Fire away!
@sam-glade is my pal and you should go check them out too!
With this blog I'm aiming to post writing updates, inspiration, and probably writing-related memes.
About my writing:
At the moment I'm primarily writing high fantasy/epic fantasy, with a view to trying out some more genres later on.
Admittedly a lot of the classic elements of western fantasy are in there, but I've been trying to get back to the mythological roots of creatures like elves, gnomes, and dwarves, and to present them as not being all white and vaguely British.
The world of The Tectomancy Saga is also, like that of my childhood writing hero Sir Terry, an odd shape. There's a reason for that, and we'll get to it eventually.
While my stories are currently third-person multi-pov stories, I intend to experiment on that at some point in the future.
My stories will probably all revolve around two things; a central mystery and a central relationship. I love a plot where you can pick at the smallest words and phrases, theorise about absolutely everything. I want to write stories where people have a thousand ideas about what the truth is, and each one of them knows there's a good chance they could be correct. I also, as a queer trans lady, want to write about sapphic relationships and include many people who are not cis.
My favourite themes to write are anti-authority, people breaking out of systems they've been trapped in for a long time, people being more important than power.
I'm definitely a plantser. I know kind of where I'm going, but let's see where the journey takes us along the way!
Finally, you can expect the tone of my writing to be trying to find that sweet spot between serious and dry humour that makes you groan, with a healthy sprinkling of subtle meme references.
Current projects below the cut
The Tectomancy Saga
On a bowl-shaped world suspended far above swirling blue mists, nine goddesses, witches, or geniuses, blessed their peoples with divine magics, then disappeared. Now, the world is decaying, tensions are rising, and people scramble to control the magics in order to shape the future.
Made with Crown and Claw
WIP Intro
High Fantasy: The classic Princess-in-a-tower-guarded-by-a-dragon story, but we see the machiantions that put her there, and what happens afterwards.
Releine Sholt is hand-picked by the heir to Tectomancy, Princess Almyra Tectus, to be her new bodyguard. The role has one ominous stipulation: nobody can ever speak to the Princess, on the threat of dire punishment.
'There was only one bed' turns out to have horrifying consequences.
Progress: Fourth draft done at 129.5k
Bound by Stone and Blood
High Fantasy: The saga continues from different perspectives, having different adventures, that will eventually conjoin.
Almyra vies for control of her kingdom. Ellimane tracks down two misfits who are being hunted by a rogue automaton. Releine visits hell. A new threat rises in the shadows of Versewelt, the decaying land.
Bitter exes who technically never dated are definitely not thinking about each other.
Progress: First draft underway at 69k
Snippets and Short Stories:
Flash Fiction Friday: On the Edge
Flash Fiction Friday: I Can't Tell
Her New Captain (Alternate Chapter)
Other
Naenia, through Murder
WIP Intro
Naenia, the reaper who is responsible for death through murder, is shellshocked when a murdered homicide detective returns to life before her eyes and promptly asks her out on a date.
Detective Carina Choudhry has an odd - very Goth - new girlfriend, who saved her from the serial killer she was on the trail of.
Progress: Complete at 46k
Fay and the Red Kite (Title pending)
Fay Orrel, a trainee mech pilot, finds that her beaten-up old training machine holds an AI that has replicated its deceased former pilot. She tries to keep the other woman secret from the PMC that owns the mech, who would be certain to wipe the AI's memories, destroying Mina forever.
Progress: Well, I wrote the prologue and some of the first chapter. Being dabbled with!
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Captain of the Silvermane Guards - Gepard Landau
RP Blog Account - Has NO official link with MiHoyo/Hoyoverse
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Rules:
Please be respectful and mindful.
Discrimination based on gender, race/skin colour, nationality/ethnic, sexual orientation, and other factors will result in being reported and blocked.
Try to keep the asks SFW.
I suppose that are all the rules.
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Warning/Caution - open to:
Headcanons? (If an anon requests)
Ships (If an anon requests and by the liking of the owner/writer)
Angst (If an anon requests)
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Types of Anon(s):
❄️Anon
🎵Anon
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Tags:
#A Will Forged In Ice - Anon(❄️+🎵)
#One Bridgehead At A Time - Anon(❄️+🎵)
#Obliged To Uphold - Reply to Ask
#Honor And Responsibility Of Serving Shall Be Upheld - Lady Bronya
#Always The Same - Serval
#Stay Alert, Don't Let Your Guard Down - Lynx
#Enough Of Your Little Games - Sampo
#May You're Journey Among The Stars Bring You Glory And Result In Success - Astral Express Crew
#Captain Of The Silvermane Guards, The Honor Is Mine - Other HSR Blogs (Except Characters of Jarilo-VI & Sampo)
#The Honor Is Mine - Characters from Jarilo-VI (Except Sampo)
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"Medals of the past won't win the battles of tomorrow."
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dragonlights · 3 months
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Like I don't Post about drama but vis a vis predestro's Tumblr ban, like. I don't necessarily think it's a good thing that we on the Internet have become so desensitized to threats of violence that we use them as jokes, but like.... That's been Tumblr culture for, what, a decade now? At least four years. Almost definitely longer.
And like. I've seen so much worse. Folks admitting to sending asks telling others to kill themselves!! Folks outright wishing x/y person killed themselves!!! Folks harassing trans folks (esp. trans women!)
But what gets this one lady banned was her man door hammer hand car boom-ass post???
Like, talk about enforcing the TOS from the wrong angle.
I totally get that part of it is "this person had their rule breaking reported en masse so something happened" but shouldn't the severity of the response have more to do with the severity of the offense, rather than how many people reported that user?
Like. The fact that we have to do mass reports to get anything to happen to anyone is ridiculous.
And, the fact that INCORRECT mass reports aren't punished more is also ridiculous.
There's also no report function for discriminatory content, or for seeing users harass each other. So... If you're not the one being harassed, your report does... Nothing??
Unless you, what scroll through someone's blog looking for things you could report as threatening violence??
On the "I hope every politician dies" webbed site???
There's obviously something fucky with their reporting system- either the way that reports are handled, or the way the severity of the reports are being judged.
Cause right now, it looks like they got a flood of reports from TERFs, photomatt saw a post about him, and went "well, fuck it, get her out of here" without looking at the context of HER BEING HARASSED FOR AGES. And that the post in question- the only one I saw shared!- was almost certainly a vent post for Said Situation that was...
Comically mishandled?
Like this one?
Like. Look. Do I think maybe at some point, on the "way too comfortable with violence on people I see as Wrong in some way" webbed site, a popular user said something that could actually be construed as a threat, and due to rampant transmisogyny got, got her shit reported?
Yeah, I can see that.
I don't follow her blog too closely, I know she does a lot of hyperbolic stuff. (as is Done on this Web site, again... I've almost certainly rb'd things just as bad)
But the example photomatt uses is hilariously bad and so obviously not a threat, and one would think, IN LIGHT OF THERE BEING ALLEGATIONS OF TRANSPHOBIA ON THEIR TEAM FOR YEARS, THEY WOULD BRING OUT A MORE CREDIBLE PIECE OF EVIDENCE THAN A LOONY-TOONS ASS DEATH WISH.
Just. The bar was on the ground and they still fumbled It! Fucking! Amazing!
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shimmerbeasts · 3 months
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People I'd like to get to know better.
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alias / name: Miss Tantabis, usually gets shortened into Miss T or T
birthday:  March 13th
zodiac sign: Pisces
height: 152cm or 4'9''. The fact that I beat Jinx and even Ahri in terms of size is terrible.
hobbies: Writing and roleplaying are my passions. The hobbies, I am currently discovering for myself, are playing video games (even if so far it is only League) and drawing.
favorite color: Blue, red and black
favorite book: Probably the Warriors and Silverwing series by Erin Hunter and Kenneth Oppel respectively.
last song: Скованные одной цепью by Nautilius Pompilius
last film / show: Arcane and prior to that Hazbin Hotel.
recent reads: While I am still stuck on going through my notes for Carmilla: The Wolves of Styria by David Brian, I intend to also pick up Amygdala by Sam Fennah
inspiration: Erin Hunter and Cornelia Funke when I was little. My current hyper fixation also tends to massively motivate me.
story behind url: Back when I started this multimuse blog, my original roster consisted of Silco, Jinx, Vi, Warwick, Sevika and Naafiri. A large majority of those muses had some kind of tie or interaction with Shimmer in Arcane. Furthermore, all muses are somehow monstrous in nature, hence why I chose the word beasts. Basically, the URL reflects my darker themes and core aspect in writing: I am gonna make everyone an animalistic monster, which tends to push the boundary of its own existence.
fun fact about me: My skin condition came packaged with hyperflexible joints. I can bend my fingers to the point they shape an S. It looks super painful, while I feel nothing at all. It is not very good for my muscles and sinews though.
Tagged by: @piltover-sharpshooter
Tagging: @ferinehuntress, @jynxd, @zaunseye, @playgroundmonsters, @restrainedhungr, @weavertali, @infinite-xerath, @blackrosesmatron, @demacianhcart, @veiled-lady
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claggorstuff · 4 months
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Just found your blog and I love it so far! Can you write Claggor x fem reader where reader is having trouble falling asleep and Claggor holds her and comforts her?
I'll leave it open ended for ya beyond that. Stoked to see another Claggor fan ❤️❤️
Oh my god ive been so behind on tumblr reqs, sorry to keep u waiting!!!! I can do this most def !! I feel like titling this fic.
A Good nights sleep...
Claggor x maybe insomniac reader
I sat in bed, rolling and squirming, unable to sleep, the day was horrible, nightmares plagued me, each time I fell asleep it was only for a minute or less.. soon these visions, plagues, all of them were too much, I began to cry softly just wanting a good nights sleep.. A hand tapped my shoulder and I turned to see a tired claggor, goggles around his neck, only in his white t-shirt he wears under all his layers and some pijama pants, I sniffled.
"S-Sorry.. Im just-"
"Its okay, I gotcha." I was cut off abruptly and he gently climbed in with me, holding me close to him, my tears continued but I tried to stay quiet, although this didnt alarm him, all he did was hold me tighter and gently run his fingers though my hair.
"You dont gotta hide it.. y/n.. you can cry as loud as you want.. mylo sleeps like a rock.. vis knocked right out tired from the day.. and well. Powder doesnt wake up unless theres a fire.. Im the only one who'll hear you.." his words made me calmer, safer.
"I dunno if i-i want to cry anymore.."
"Glad to hear that babe.." he kissed my forehead softly, I played with the strap of his goggles gently, sniffling as my tears died down, he rubbed my back and tilted my chin up to him
"Whats wrong." I'd expected this from him, I frowned and pressed my head to his chest, feeling his heart beat
"I cant sleep.. without dreaming of them.. my parents.. that day.. I know I have to get over it but.. I just cant."
"You dont have to get over shit. We all.. we all have our monsters.. its only reasonable you have yours.. But itll be okay.. one day on your own time.. you'll be able to move on.. make your own family.. we. Will make our own family.." his words rang in my ears and I smiled up at him
"You really know how to talk to a lady huh." My words made him hold back laughter, snickers and chuckles escaped and I smiled even wider, his teeth glowed in each smile.
"What a pretty boy I see.."
"Don't flatter me!" He smirked down at me "I know your tricks ya little fox.. now.. lets get to sleep huh..?"
"Okay.. as long as you stay next to me.."
"Why wouldnt I?" He planted one last kiss on my lips and rested his head on the pillow we shared, I closed my eyes listening to just his breath, relaxing, this time as I fell asleep, my dreams couldnt be less peaceful..
(Sorry if its too short)
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liaromancewriter · 1 year
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Tag List Update: Reply by Feb 28
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It’s not springtime, but it is time to update my tag list especially considering how much smaller the fandom is now. 
Please respond to this post if you would like to remain on the tag list(s) as presented below OR if you would like any adjustments. Just a reminder, I write for Open Heart only. All options below the cut. 
New tag list goes into effect March 1, so please respond by Feb 28.
If you would rather not be tagged anymore, that’s perfectly alright. Just ignore this post and carry on with your day. 😉
I also plan to write more original short stories in 2023 (date tbd). They will be romantic fiction, M!OC x F!OC. LMK if you’d like to be tagged on those.
All Pairings/Characters Fics & Edits: @a-crepusculo​ @annfg8​ @bex-la-get​ @bluebelle08​ @cariantha​ @choicesaddict5​ @coffeeheartaddict2​ @crazy-loca-blog​ @doriopenheart​ @genevievemd​ @headoverheelsforramsey​ @lucy-268​ @jamespotterthefirst​ @jerzwriter​ @mysticalgalaxysstuff​ @openheartforeverinmyheart​ @peonierose​ @takemyopenheart​ @potionsprefect​ @queencarb​ @quixoticdreamer16​ @rookiemartin​ @socalwriterbee​ @tessa-liam​ @trappedinfanfiction​ @vi-writes-stuff​ @zahrachoices​
Ethan & Cassie Fics & Edits only: @custaroonie​ @lady-calypso​ @hopelessromantic1352​ @mrs-ramsey​
Max & Sienna Fics & Edits only: @aallotarenunelma​
Detailed Character Asks: @bluebelle08​ @crazy-loca-blog​ @coffeeheartaddict2​ @doriopenheart​ @lucy-268​ @jerzwriter​ @openheartforeverinmyheart​ @peonierose​ @queencarb​ @quixoticdreamer16​ @rookiemartin​ @tessa-liam​ @trappedinfanfiction​
Character-Driven Reblog Games: @a-crepusculo​ @bluebelle08​ @coffeeheartaddict2​ @crazy-loca-blog​ @jerzwriter​ @lucy-268​ @mysticalgalaxysstuff​ @openheartforeverinmyheart​ @peonierose​ @queencarb​ @quixoticdreamer16​ @rookiemartin​ @tessa-liam​ @trappedinfanfiction​
New - Original Short Stories
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hyenahunt · 5 months
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Saga: Rivals - 30
Writer: Akira
Season: Winter
Characters: Seiya, Tori, Hokuto, Chiaki, Hiyori, Jun
Proofreading: 310mc (JP) & hyenahunt (ENG)
Translation: kotofucius
Jun: My parents’ blood runs through my very veins. There's no way I can ever disregard that so easily.
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[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]
Location: Reverse Live Stage
Seiya: 3, 2, 1… All right. The video ended right on time.
Well then, everyone. Are you ready?
It’s time for the fateful third song that shall decide our match.
Surely you won’t tell me that you're spent, of course? You’re still so young compared to me, so please hold out for a little longer.
Tori: …Say, Hidaka-senpai, I’ve been wondering. How old is Seiya-san? He looks super young.
Hokuto: Not a clue. Like Mother, his age is a mystery.
I can probably find out if I just try to calculate it, but up till now I've always hated looking like I hold any interest in them.
I’ve had to ask him out of necessity a few times in the past, but…
He's always dodged the question with something by saying something like “Super Idols don’t age.”
Tori: Ahaha, what's with that? He’s not some kinda spirit or anything.
Seiya: Fufu. That's not quite true, this time around. Have you forgotten? We bear the name of Lilith, the queen of demons.
Chiaki: Hmm. About that — My friend was really curious about it. He wondered why you didn’t choose a more favorable name.
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Hiyori: Right, right? I shared the same sentiments, so I tried pushing over and over for a more holier, noble name — “Gabriel”, for example!
But of course, Hidaka-sensei wouldn’t listen at all~
Seiya: Hmm, I'm not too sure about the sound of Gabriel, either… I don’t understand the tastes of young people.
Well, there’s essentially not all that much meaning in the name. But since Lilith is a unit intended for Jun-kun…
I chose a name that would portray him in a good light, while simultaneously tying the theme back to Eve.
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Jun: …Intended for me? What d'you mean by that? I feel like you’ve said that a couple times before, too~
Plus you've even made me Lilith's center, too, even though I'm usually just the lowly underling.
'Course, I’m completely aware that you've set things up for my sake.
The video made me even more certain 'bout it. I feel bad making you go through all this trouble just for me, honestly~
Hokuto: Hmm, what exactly was the video about?
Father was distracting me so I couldn’t really watch, but… it wasn’t anything scandalous, was it?
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Jun: Well, not really… It’s personally embarrassing for me, but it's no scandal, at least~
It's kinda like those videos people play at weddings, you feel?
Hokuto: Weddings? What do you mean?
Jun: As I'm tryna say… Turns out it was a message from my damn old man, where he went on and on 'bout his memories of me and even went and congratulated me to my face.
Ugh~ I wanted to disappear on the spot.
Hokuto: Your father, Sazanami? So that would mean — Sagami-sensei’s old rival…?
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Jun: Yep, the very same one. It's been bugging me this whole time, y'know, wondering why he didn’t appear as a Mentor for Project-Saga…
But now that I've watched that video, it seems like he'd gotten an offer but flat-out rejected it.
Hiyori: Fufu. Until a little while ago, Jun-kun, we had to keep Project-Saga under wraps from you, so it seems your father had to be hushed up as well.
Well, not that you ever went back home, so perhaps that might’ve been unnecessary.
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Jun: Nah, I do at least call home from time to time, y’know? So eh, shutting him up was a good call~
After all, there was a good chance that he’s still plagued by his past.
Hiyori: That's true. All the same, by the looks of the video, it seems he may have finally found some peace of mind.
I'm sure he must be so relieved to see how splendidly you've matured. He seemed a far kinder father than what I’ve heard from you ♪
Jun: It's precisely the kind and sincere sort that’s the most hideous once they snap.
…Well, he was cuddling up with the old lady and all smiles in the video, so I guess I’ve got nothing to worry about for now on that note~
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Jun: …Honestly, I haven’t had a real convo with them in a while. Maybe after all this is over, it'd be a good idea to drop by and show my face.
Hokuto: Hmm, I don’t quite understand. Just why was that video played?
It seems that Sazanami’s complications with his father have been resolved and well, that's great, but…?
Jun: They won’t ever get resolved, y'know? They'll probably continue on for life. And surely you’re the same way, Hokuto-san~
Jun: My parents’ blood runs through my very veins. There's no way I can ever disregard that so easily.
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Jun: 'Course, that’s what makes it a problem~ So at the very least, I wanna earn some pride for the blood that flows through me.
Hokuto: Fufu. You look liberated, Sazanami.
Jun: Nah, if anything this is my confused face. I feel like a dumbass for how much I've agonised over all this… I mean, I've lived my whole damn life resenting my old man.
But in that video… He apologized over and over to me.
Seems like by the time I'd told you my tale in the sleeping room, he was already well aware and regretful of his mistakes.
Hokuto: I see… You said your parents exploded on you, just that once, and everything fell apart.
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Jun: Yep. The old lady was crying all the time then, but turns out she'd also been furious.
Since then, those two’ve talked things over many times, apparently… They’ve reflected on their ways, and now they're working on turning over a new leaf.
I've kept my distance this whole time since I never wanted to go through something like that again, so I hadn't noticed it…
But y’know, what good is apologizing to me now gonna do, right~?
It's not like we can go back to how we were. But well, I guess it did get a load off my chest, at least.
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Jun: I've been worried 'bout them for the longest time, too… So if they can move on and live life to the fullest from now on, then that's all I could ask for.
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thuganomxcs · 5 months
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tag nine people you'd like to know better
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I. favourite colours: Over the years my favorite color had really shifted, it started as orange cause when I was younger I remembered Orange Drink (not juice) was my FAVORITE flavor so I stuck close to Orange for a majority of my life then it just shifted towards green. I don't remember personally when I changed by my parents told me it suspiciously happened during the phase I started Power Rangers. SO I guess Tommy Oliver had an impact on me.
II. favourite flavours: Gimme anything Oatmeal, you know like the cookie? Mmmm I'd pretty much marry you if you baked me oatmeal cookies my whole life. I also really love the taste of barbecue.
III. favourite genres: In movies and tv shows it's horror, which is actually funny because I kid you not growing up til all in my early teen years I was a bitch, not even gonna hold you on that one. It wasn't until I became a writer is when I started watching horror and really braved through it because I really wanted to understand the story, especially if it's lore heavy like ju-on or ringu for example.
IV. favourite music: I mostly gravitate towards rap and hip-hop but really I'd listen to anything if it's a tune, if you hopped into my library of song..aside from the barrage of calypsos and soca music you'd see you would also find A LOT of anime opening, endings and video game exclusive songs. Lord there was a time Crush40 was my life. Then it turned to Lotus Juice.
V. favourite movies: Oh fam we finna be here all day so I'd just give you my top five from the top of my head. Spider-man 2, The mummy returns, Saw, DBZ Bojack unbound (don't @ me, Future Trunks' fit was fire in that one) and Into the spider-verse. These are in no particular order.
VI. favourite series: I'mma tie this to video games. There's Like a dragon, Budokai (tenkaichi), Persona, Megaman battle network, Assassin's creed, Insomniac Spider-man AND Lord believe me I can go on.
VII. last song: Mirage by OneRepublic
VIII. last series: The last series I've seen which was really last night is The Manifest. Still on going, granted I'd like to point out that the only reason I wanted to watch this was because my homie Josh Dallas is in it. I've never liked Snow White's Prince charming UNTIL this man dropped such a great performance in Once Upon a Time.
IX. last movie: The last movie I've seen was one called 'The Impossible'. Whilst I don't think it's a bad movie, I just had different expectations going in.
X. currently reading: Story from the Pizzaplex: Lally's game.
XI. currently watching: The Manifest.
XII. currently working on: Waaaay too many asks from this blog, my trailblazer and my multi.
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tagged: @ahkmourn (thanks for tagging yo boy)
tagging: @drakonairs , @dragvnsovl , @kiealer , @swordsxandxsakuras , @acoldsovereign , @eternalbxtterfly , @infintasmal , @universestreasures , @ofhardknoxxx , @devildukem , @adversitybloomed , @ofhope , @chibitantei , @thedetectiveofinaba , @fatexbound , @lady-llewellyn , @itmeanspeace , @bonescribes , @coolrpblog , @kamigakushi , @adversitybloomed , steal it homies
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