Summary: *yn* Blackburn is the fierce Queen beyond the Wall, ruling over the kingdom of Vesiros that she helped build from the ground up. With winter approaching, how could the queen refuse an alluring offer from an even more enticing wolf, the King in the North?
Warnings: light swearing, slightish fluff
Notes: Face claim for Cassius is Ben Barnes, but you can picture someone else if you want :)
“No, my lady.” Catelyn Stark’s lips pressed together in a thin line, mother’s worry etched on her face at the uncertainty of her son’s safety.
“The ride to Vesiros is about a two week journey, my lady, I would not fret yet.” Roose Bolton spoke in an attempt to sooth her.
“If that… that wildling queen kill-” Catelyn began, spitting out the word queen in disgust. “The queen may be a savage, but I am sure she is not a compete fool, my lady. She already has to deal with invading wildlings, she would not want a Northern army marching on her too.”
“Let us pray that you are right Lord Bolton, and also pray that the girls savage instincts do not get the better of her.”
PRAY FOR JAPAN
1 missile dropped 200 km from mainland Japan. Japan’s government says one of the ballistic missiles launched by North Korea on Monday likely came the closest ever to the country’s coast.
The government had said the four missiles fell into the Sea of Japan between 300 and 350 kilometers west of Oga Peninsula, northern Japan. 3 fell within Japan’s exclusive economic zone.
A detailed analysis after sharing data with the United States and South Korea projected that one missile fell into waters 200 kilometers north-northwest of Noto Peninsula in Ishikawa Prefecture, central Japan.
The analysis has also determined that the 4 missiles likely went down some 80 kilometers apart from one another to form a straight line stretching north to south.
The findings pointing to the North’s improved missile technology have heightened the state of alert among members of the Japanese government.
Prime Minister Shinzo Abe said the launch brought a new level of threat to the country.
The government plans to strengthen its missile defense system and study ways to promptly provide information to the people.
(Received as is in an email from the Apostolics Of Japan)
This continuation fic of my previous work deals with Dany’s jealousy of Jon. I don’t want to say anything about it as I had a lot of fun writing it. I hope you guys like it too! The location is Dragonstone instead of Braavos.
Thank you for the anon who gave me the idea!
Warning: fluff, smut, angst
After much discussion with Dany of moving back to Dragonstone, Jon finally had persuaded his wife and children to go back to Westeros. Jon and Dany had best thought to go there and help their friends and family.
would not die and stay dead, the world was at war with itself, and to
compound the misery, winter came with a wrath that was a distant
memory for most who lived. It did not creep in, nor did it apologize
for its untimely birth. Instead, it just rattled the doors and
ravaged the land in a different kind of war.
[Prior to this America had gone to a g7 summit, let everyone (mostly england, who is currently going through a terrorism spell) take out their frustrations out on him. He stole Russia’s flask before he left…]
“Alfred?” he called into the darkly lit hall. Surely he would be home by now, wouldn’t he? It’s already past his usual evening meal time, and he has a strange policy of being home during this time. Where else would he be?
“Alfred, where are you, solnishko?” he tried once more. Ivan stepped into the apartment, shutting the door softly behind him and toeing off his shoes on the rug near the entrance. “I have reason to believe that you have a certain hip-side container of mine that I know no one else has the gall to steal, and that I never accidentally leave places.”
The Northerner stopped and fell silent when he heard a small sniffling sound further into the darkness. “Fedya? Is that you?”
He heard the shaky inhale, then the scuffing of fabric on drywall as though the other had stood with the help of the wall. Alfred walked around the corner, wiping the lenses of his glasses on the hem of his t-shirt. “Oh, h-hey, Ivan,” he mumbled, wiping his eyes on his jacket sleeve. “What can I d-do for you?”
Alfred delicately placed his glasses back on his nose and smiled a watery, forced smile. Damn. I didn’t want anyone to see me like this. Not right now. “I… I wasn’t expecting any visitors today, so if you want tea or something I can go-”
He was cut off by soft, cream-colored fabric touching his cheek and arms around his shoulders. “Fedya, drop the formalities. Why are you crying?”
The American pouted into the end of the scarf. “I ain’t doin no such thing.”
“Don’t. Don’t you lie to me, Fedya. And besides, you’re eyes are red and your cheeks are still wet.” Russia brought his still-gloved hand up, wiping the leftover tears off of the other’s blotchy face.
Alfred tilted his head up to face him, grimacing at the look of sympathy he found there. He pushed himself away, choosing instead to go back to leaning against the wall. He folded his arms over his chest in an attempt at indifference, but he feared it looked more like he was hugging himself or making himself look smaller and even more pathetic.
“I don’t need your sympathy. Why don’t you leave my pathetic ass alone. You’d be far better off that way; not being held down by a self-depreciating, drunken, good-for-nothing hormonal teenager like myself.” He looked down, suddenly finding the patterns in the hardwood far more interesting than the other nation standing in front of him.
Ivan stared blankly at him. Is that what he really thinks of himself? “That’s not what you are.”
Alfred snorted. “Yeah? Bet ya cant prove it, can you? No, I haven’t done anything worthwhile since the sixties.”
Ivan slammed his hands into the wall on either side of Alfred’s head. He didn’t even flinch. Instead, America, true to his fighting spirit, challenged him with his electric blue glare. The Russian brought their faces closer together, almost touching and surely within kissing distance.
“You smell like my vodka,” Ivan pulled back ever so slightly. “The vodka that was in my missing flask.”
“Yeah? What’s it to you? Want it back? The flask is on the counter,” he spat in return, not breaking his glare.
“That’s not my main concern right now.”
“Then what is?!” Alfred’s voice raised in volume and in pitch. “What could possibly be your main concern right now? What here is worth your time, so much so that you are staying and arguing with me about myself? What’s the god damn point, Vanya?”
He was silenced by a kiss, both rough and loving at the same time. Russia’s lips were just a little chapped, and for some reason tasted like cinnamon. Contrary to himself, who probably tasted like sour alcohol and old coffee, which was the only other thing he’d ingested all day.
Ivan sighed as he felt the other start crying again. He pulled back so he could look at him in the eye again. “You can cry. I won’t think less of you for it.”
Alfred burst into tears, throwing himself off of the wall and into Russia’s arms. “I-I’m sor-ry that I am thi-is way…” he sputtered in between breaths and sobs. Then, almost inaudibly, “I can imagine why everyone hates me. I just can’t imagine why you don’t too.”
Sometimes, certain things that certain people say can break even the most frozen hearts. “Alfred, ya tebya lyublyu…”
Alfred sniffed, and the ghost of a smile found its way onto his face. “And I, you.”
Special thanks to stonetroubadour for letting me bounce ideas off of him at one in the morning.
It had been a
very good day, for Anna and several other novicii
were now Tirones, deemed worthy and
ready to battle in the arena. “You should be proud, little Aeris. You earned
your tiro in little over a month. The
others took closer to six,” Kristoff beamed.
because of my incredible skills, yes?” she smirked.
your trainer whipping your butt into shape?”
her head, grinning impudently. “Naaah!” she laughed, but her smile softened in
gratitude. He smiled back, genuinely proud of her.
For Game of Thrones Season 5 Episode 5: “Kill the Boy”
It was a sad day in Weisseroff: Carol was benched. But it’s okay, because things opened up with our two other decidedly main characters: Missandei and Greyworm. With the amount of screentime they got, I’m starting to suspect Greyworm might be Azor Ahai reborn? It’d explain why he donned his plot armor when the finest knight in Westeros seemed to have forgotten his. Still, this gender-bent Sleeping Beauty is the closest thing we’ll actually get to female empowerment in the series, so lap it up.
Speaking of female empowerment, our marketed poster-child for it, Deadpan Stormborn, decided it was a really good day for a barbecue, clearly honoring the memory of her advisor who always cautioned her against violence. It’s a really good thing her two dragons that were last seen snapping and scaring the shit out of her are randomly so well trained that they will sit quietly chained up until she gives an order. But hey, what’s consistency, amirite? Missandei must have had the same thought as me, because she decided to call attention to Deadpan’s game of characterization musical chairs. So Deadpan realized she needed to trust her gut by reinstating a barbaric tradition and forcing a prisoner to marry her. Seems she’s keeping up the theme of the season: women can be sexual predators too!
This is the starting gun. This was it. It’s going to be a wild year. I hope everyone brought their big girl/boy/non-binary pants and straps in. It won’t be smooth sailing from here. But we finally left the fucking dock and I am ready to RUN.
My money is on the scrappy Northern kids who fell in love at 16/18.