#talltalkr

THE NORTH™ SQUAD.

HE CAN’T BREATHE.  edd stands before tormund defeated.  in the ride to the wildling camp, his walls fell.  JON SNOW IS DEAD, and edd feels lost.  his eyes prickle with tears, and he clenches gloved hands at his sides.  “we have to go.”  he says quietly; he doesn’t know what thorne will do to jon’s body if edd does not return.  there’s a part of the tiny crow that wants to flee, to never return to castle black. . .  but he cannot leave jon.  even in death, jon needs him.

trading snowflakes for the cloak of protection (always accepting) // @talltalkr

          it’s funny, because even yesterday Kae sent me the LOVELIEST little message on the IM and i died + melted right on the spot. and i sent one back and now here i am doing it again because I COULD LOVE KAE EVERY SINGLE DAY OF MY LIFE. and still not run out of breath nor out of things to say tbh. what a beautiful, precious gem? of course i am biased, especially ever since the show did 1 (one) thing right by having Tormund starting to call Jon his little crow, but hey — it’s to the point where i love Kae’s Tor more than the one in the show and even the one in the books. because she takes inspiration from both and creates such a beautiful, complex, interesting, deep mash that is her own, and honestly what else can i even say. no words are good enough to express my admiration for Kae’s talent as a writer, not only for Tormund but especially for Tormund, and i feel honestly honored that i can have my snowball interact with someone so beautiful inside & out. right now i actually recalled that time she sent me that adorable country song like LISTEN TO THIS IT’S THEM and this was the most precious moment. i really love how easy-going and cheerful our ooc chats are, with just tossing ideas and links and photos at each other, and crying about our boys and threatening each other with asks & threads & plots — and, just to wrap this up, all i can say and reiterate is that i am blessed to have such a good, lovely, wonderful bean in my life❤

EDIT: because i am an idiot and forgot to add this at the start, but Silas/ @crownedclaw also supports the KaeLove!!

     MANY OF THE LORDS were unsure of the free folk that filled part of the hall, that were now considered to be of the North ; Lyanna was no one of them. She trusted these free folk purely based on their choice to fight by Jon’s side and remain near him. The one with the crazy eyes intrigued her- and the way he constantly look at the Lady Knight. There was no fear in the young girl as she approached him, barely coming up to his chest in height.   “ You, ”   the girl speaks, looking him dead in the eye,   “ You have quite exceptional fighting skills. ”

@talltalkr sliding into my dm’s with feelings

  when they finally break apart it’s only so he can claim her hand, and raise it to his lips. the pulsing ache of her battered knuckles apparent now that adrenaline was subsiding. she’s worn thin, hanging on by strength of will alone, stubbornness more likely. she is certain she looks just as awful as she feels and she suspects its the same across the board, yet despite the growing need to rest for months to come, lira smiles, warmed by the unrivaled joy on his face at the sight of her, no matter the pangs of battle, nor her newly acquired scars. it quickens her heart beat. she’d left her mark on him, or so he claimed, but it was he who had breathed life back into her. soothing her frost bitten heart with his boisterous laughter.

  “ a she devil am i ? “ she mutters, amused “..you ridiculous wild man, “ remaining close she gently pulls him down to eye level, so she can kiss a cut across his bearded cheek. her brilliantly emerald gaze piercing his. “ i have no desire to see you tamed, ” she liked him just as he was, with a fire to rival the sun burning brightly within him.

:)))) | @talltalkr

SHE’S NOTSURE HOW SHE FOUND HERSELF HERE, EXACTLY – perhaps it had been somesort of desire for company that brought her down from the silence of her ownchambers, or the seeking of warmth offered only by the larger fires, eager tobanish the chill from her bones before the fight to come. Hours to go, beforethe dawn; and yet there’s no doubt in her mind they’ll be at war long before itrises, and it’s all just a matter of counting it down now. And so, perhaps that’swhat brings her here to find the man all too happily drinking, void of thecompany who have gone off to their own devices, staring into the flames thatseem to play all the more on the fire kissed tone of his hair.

“I hope you don’t mind the company. It’s too cold anywhere else.”

They’ve had little interactions thus far, she can’t help but muse,even as her frame shifts to take a seat before him. There’s nowhere else to go,not yet – not when she’s so unsure where she’s even welcome – and a small smile accompanies that brief moment ofwatching him. From her brief impressions of him, he seems kind; a harsh man,perhaps, but the free folk remind her of her own people in a way. No, the Dothrakiaren’t the most refined people, but they embrace life in a way that seems sosimilar, and in a way she respects more than she might be willing to admit.

Warmth radiates on her features at his words, and it’s so rare that she’s smiled like this indays, but there’s nothing for it but to survey him with that all too accusinglittle expression. He’s drinking it himself, so she has no doubt it’s safe ( ina manner of speaking ) but she can practically smell it from here, and it’s notlike any other wine she’s ever seen – is itwine at all? Nonetheless, not one to be rude, the Targaryen leans across tograsp the horn hesitantly, careful not to spill.

“Dare I ask what it is first? …actually no, don’t tell me.”

The smile remains for merely a moment, before taking a sip ofthe substance – and immediately her hand lurches with the heave of her stomach,pressing the horn back to him ( she won’t waste his last drink if her life dependson it ) as her free hand comes up to cover her lips, and it takes quiteliterally everything to not spit it back entirely, her spluttering and chokingenough to brim amethyst hues as her eyes water. Coughing, the taste is unbearable, unlike anything she’s everendured, and it marvels her that he can bring himself to stomach it, when justone sip alone has brought her to ruin.

Keeping a hand firmly over her mouth as she all but chokes,Daenerys forces herself to utter in a hoarse tone and through watering eyes,for the sake of being polite more than anything else, barely able to evenspeak.