#scarredhound

“Yes, and the only one in the world who’d thank you for it is me,” she snaps, sitting herself down beside her brother despite his insistence. Their elder brother may be the worst of the worst, but he remains a knight, and favored by both their liege lord and the crown. “They’d take your head, or worse, send you off to the Rock.”

Not that Casterly Rock was a bad place, but she had a dreadful feeling that without Gregor, Lord Tywin would have need to replace his favored attack dog. She did not want that for Sandor. Fretting, Elinor pressed a waterskin into her brother’s lap, making to fidget with the needle and thread she’d retrieved.  It had been terrifying to see him cross blades with Gregor, and while she more than trusted in Sandor’s skill, there had been too many blows aimed to his head- too many that could have been-

tell dan and david. . . i want them to know. . .

it was risky to be outside after nightfall  --  a defensible hiding place was much preferred to sleeping in a ditch.   but then again,  everything was risky now.  even buildings that looked abandoned may contain humans,  &  humans were almost more dangerous than the alternative.  but they might also contain  food,  &  asha couldn’t go another day without food.   so when she came upon the seemingly empty house in the middle of nowhere,  she had no choice but to get inside  &  see.   

there were no signs of movement from within,  but still asha tried to move silently around the house,  looking for a broken window that she might be able to crawl into.  while all the windows were grimy,  they seemed to all be intact still,  so asha instead made for the back door.   slowly,  without daring to exhale,  she turned the handle with her left hand,  handgun clasped in her right.

but before she could push the door open,  it swung back forcefully,  yanked open from the other side.  the  shock  of it threw asha off-balance,  &  she stumbled backward,  recoiling from the shotgun barrel that came toward her from inside the house  --  &  the man that held it.    he was so tall that he nearly had to duck to step out of the door,  &  the double barrel looked like a toy in his hands.   a man like that didn’t need a gun to kill her.   &  across one entire side of his face,  a fearsome scar blazed.    &  asha didn’t need to do an analysis ;  it was obvious that this was not a fight she would win.   her gun hits the ground,  her hands raising,  palms outward at her shoulders.    ❝  hey,  alright,  it’s cool,  ❞   she began,  tripping slightly over her tongue.  ❝  i’m alive,  ok man,  i’m not one of those things.  ❞

@scarredhound

Ros was in the middle of turning down her bed when Lillibet came scarpering into her room. She arched an amused eyebrow at the younger girl. “In this brothel we knock,” She chastised playfully.

“Apologies, mistress, but there’s a man- I mean, a patron requesting your presence immediately,” Ros remembered stumbling over the correct terminology herself when she first started working but it was easy enough to remember; every man liked to have his ego stroked with titles like ‘patron’ ‘Ser’ and ‘Lord’ and in this establishment, it didn’t matter if you hadn’t earned it, so long as you could pay for it.

Meme || Accepting || @coerulus

Send me a url and I’ll write some positivity for it.

Okay, but I will happily write paragraphs of positivity for this lovely soul. E is a sweetheart and they have such a beautiful understanding of Sandor that it breaks my heart. Not only are they amazingly talented and kind-hearted, but they are overflowing with inspiration. Every time we’ve talked we’ve either discussed future plots or just talked about how our muses would react in certain situations or even to each other and I can’t tell you how much I love those discussion and how much muse it gives me.

I love watching their interactions with other characters and seeing the different sides to Sandor that are perhaps more subtle or only briefly explored in canon. 

Gendry scowled at the older man, a surge of anger flashing through him. “So you’re telling me that when something annoys you, you’d rather be dead so you can have nothing?” he retorted hotly. Mindless whimpering. Fucking seven hells. “They sold me,” he reiterated since apparently no one here seemed to understand the heaviness of it. “To a witch.”

Besides, the words weren’t even his own. He’d heard Arya say it countless times, but he felt the need to defend it none the less, as well as himself. “How in the hell are you even still alive?” he asked crossly. “You complain even more than I do, you just do it louder and more aggressively.”

Beric had been thinking on Clegane’s words about Thoros. Clegane had said it was one of the best ways to die. It was something comforting, and surprising that it had come from Clegane. An odd source of comfort.