#Wench's Wardens

[justabrowncoatedwench]

#4 and #12 for the hype questions?

4. What does your worldstate look like going into DAV?

I have several worldstates and no "true" canon, but I'm always happy to talk about them all! I'll answer you with the one I'm planning to play first, since I imagine that's what's most interesting to hear about.

My very first Warden was Solona Amell; she romanced Alistair and kept him a Warden with her. The Hawke that followed her, her cousin, was my purple rogue Daylen Hawke-Amell (he took up the family name when he got the Estate back) - Bethany became a Warden - and he dallied with Isabela before getting into a relationship with Anders. Unfortunately, he (and I) was totally blind sided by what Anders was up to and broke up with the mage but didn't kill him before siding with the mages against the Templars in the final confrontation.

Poor Daylen subsequently was left in the Fade by Inquisitor Tanith Trevelyan, a former Circle mage, who romanced Cullen and made Leliana Divine. Tanith vowed to redeem Solas after he saved her life by taking her hand in Trespasser. She disbanded the Inquisition and retired to Ferelden with Cullen where they help Templars leave lyrium addition and the Order behind. By 9:54 (beginning of DAV), they have 3 children, a son, Nathan, and twin girls, Haven & Hope.

My first Rook will be Tanith's younger brother, Alvaro, an ex-Templar who journeyed to Rivain to connect with their mother's roots after Trespasser and joined the Lords of Fortune. He's a sword-and-board warrior by training.

12. What's one thing you're hoping we DON'T see in this next game?

What an interesting question! I really hope they let Cullen rest finally (I suspect they will, what with everything that happened with Greg Ellis).

I'm a little worried about how they'll handle the elves, in general, particularly the Creators vs the modern elves, since the elves are rooted in Jewish, Romani, and indigenous inspiration (as stated by the devs since DAO) and the whole "Evanuris were actually slavers" schtick is, uh, easily fumble-able let's say, without making any sweeping assertions on whether or not it was fumbled in DAI and the tie-in media since. (I'm not interested in litigating such a complex issue in a short ask answer like this one.)

_______________________

If you'd like to ask me a question as we get hype for Dragon Age: The Veilguard, here's the list!

[entitled-fangirl]

A Northern Lannister.

Cregan Stark x Lannister!wife!reader

Summary: the reader proves she’s worthy of being the Lady of Winterfell.

Warnings: blood, death, fighting, cursing, yelling

Masterlist

…………………………………..

They hate her.

She's sure of it.

They all hate her.

A Lannister lion in a den of Stark wolves.

Cregan was wonderful, and he made no actions that would lead her to believe he thought her less than for not being a northerner.

But the whispers were still there.

Their mother's last contribution to the earth, Y/n was born the much younger third sibling to the twins, Tyland and Jason. The two treasured her. Due to their significant age difference, she was much more like a daughter than a dear sister. So when she was to marry, they knew the beauty had potential.

And with the war looming over their heads, she was sent to Cregan in an attempt to gain the North's favor.

The greens failed in their attempt at gaining Cregan's favor, however, the girl had not.

He quite liked her.

She had a fire to her that he knew would cause trouble.

And he also liked trouble.

What a deadly combination.

…

"I assure you, I am no delicate rose, Lord Mormont," she said through gritted teeth.

He chuckled in amusement, "You're a mere woman. We will not have you discussing battle plans."

"Mere woman?" She scoffed. "I am your Lady of Winterfell. I am married to the Warden of the North- the man you raise your banners for!"

He shrugged, "My loyalty is to him, not a Lannister wench."

Her eyes burned with fury. "Watch your tongue, Mormont-"

"-Or what?" He taunted. "You'll have your Lord Husband take it? He wouldn't."

Her fists clenched so hard she swore her nails cut into her palm.

She couldn't cause trouble. She couldn't cause trouble.


She huffed and turned around, walking away from the man, ignoring his taunting words as she did so.

…

Cregan stepped up to his war table and looked around at the men, "Where is my wife?"

They all looked around and at each other, lost at what he meant.

His brows furrowed, "Where is my wife?" He tried again. When no answer came, he snapped at a servant, "Where did she go?"

The servant bit her lip, "I last saw her storming from the castle, my lord."

"What?"

…

Hours passed, and Cregan became more and more worried, but he couldn't walk away from his war table until the meeting was finished.

Luckily, she returned.

Mid-meeting, she threw the doors open, making all in the room jump from the sound.

She stood in the doorframe, covered in blood with a look of rage in her eyes. A bag in hand.

They all stood at the sight of the lady, utterly shocked.

Cregan's eyes widened and he immediately rounded the table to get to her, "My love? Wha-"

She threw the bag down and moved to Lord Mormont. "You."

Mormont frowned, "My lady?"

She gripped his cloak with one hand and swung at hard as she could with the other, breaking his nose.

All around the table gasped, completely shocked by the woman's actions as Mormont fell against the table, holding his nose when blood gushed from it.

Her rage was all but tamed, "CALL ME A WENCH AGAIN! I FUCKING DARE YOU!"

Cregan raced forward, pulling his wife back by the waist when she began to wind up for another punch.

She grunted and fought against him, "DO IT! FUCKING DO IT!"

Cregan held one arm around her waist, the other gently around her neck to push her head back against his chest and he whispered to her, "Stop this."

But she was far from done, "I'M A FUCKING STARK! A WOLF! MORE WOLF THAN YOU!"

Cregan tried again, "C'mon."

She looked around, noting the wide eyes, "YOU CAN BE NEXT IF YOU WANT!"

Mormont stood up now, the bottom half of his face completely red, "Control your lady wife, Stark!"

Cregan's brows furrowed, "Pardon me?" His voice lowered, "Did you call my wife a wench, Mormont?"

Y/n finally quieted herself, her chest heaving but her eyes glaring.

Cregan finally looked at her and really took in the blood, "Where did all this blood come from?"

She looked over to the cloth bag she left on the floor.

Lord Bolton crossed the room, picking up the bag and grimacing when he saw what laid inside. "My lord?"

Stark's eyes moved between his wife and the man. "What is it?"

"Two heads, my lord."

All eyes moved to her frame slowly, continually being shocked by the woman.

"Love? What happened out there?"

She pulled herself away from him and reached up, trying to wipe the blood from her face but smearing it instead. "Green spies."

He frowned, "How did you know?"

"Tried to take me back."

Silence fell over the group and Mormont decided to break it, "Perhaps they should have."

Instant rage fell over Cregan's face and he rushed forward, throwing a punch at the man, connecting with his jaw. "YOU BASTARD!"

Bolton stepped forward, "My lord. Please."

Cregan held the bloody Mormont up by his cloak, his jaw clenched as he growled the words out, "To the wall."

Mormont frowned, "w…what?"

"To. The. FUCKING WALL!" And he threw him to the ground.

Cregan then turned to the rest of his war council with equal anger, "Anyone else wish to spew insults in my face?"

When no one answered, he turned to his wife, whose anger had disappeared and surprise had replaced it at his actions. "Are you alright?"

She nodded, "Yes, Cregan."

He grunted and moved back to his place at the table. "Go wash yourself and return. You're needed here."

She nodded, leaving the room quickly.

"Someone get this Mormont scum out of here!"

…

The entire North heard of the Lannister girl's actions, and it was quickly forgotten that she was of Lannister blood entirely.

She was a Northerner.

There was no doubt about that anymore.

………………………………

Cregan Stark taglist: @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @callsignwidow, @8812-342, @nyxbranwenn, @thorins-queen-of-erebor

[sapphicreadsdb]

Hi do you by chance have any sapphic fantasy recs? preferably adult fantasy but YA is fine too

sure! tho this could will get quite long... no links, sorry!, bc it was kicking up a fuss with those for some reason

+ = ya

pennyblade by j.l. worrad

lady hotspur by tessa gratton

sofi and the bone song by adrienne tooley (+)

she who became the sun by shelley parker chan

the scapegracers by h.a. clarke (+)

the third daughter by adrienne tooley (+)

the daughters of izdihar by hadeer elsbai

the malevolent seven by sebastien de castell

blackheart knights by laure eve

the warden by daniel m. ford

the unbroken by c.l. clark

dark earth by rebecca stott

witch king by martha wells

scorpica by g.r. macallister

the mirror empire by kameron hurley

now she is witch by kirsty logan

silverglass by j.f. rivkin

the woman who loved the moon and other stories by elizabeth a. lynn

...(this answer is how i discover there's a character limit per block so. doing this in chunks.)

fire logic by laurie j. marks

a restless truth by freya marske

when angels left the old country by sacha lamb (+)

the traitor baru cormorant by seth dickinson

an archive of brightness by kelsey socha

the bladed faith by david dalglish

the winged histories by sofia samatar

dragonoak by sam farren

the forever sea by joshua phillip johnson

into the broken lands by tanya huff

the jasmine throne by tasha suri

daughter of redwinter by ed mcdonald

the last magician by lisa maxwell (+)

the fire opal mechanism by fran wilde

...

the black coast by mike brooks

high times in the low parliament by kelly robson

foundryside by robert jackson bennett

the enterprise of death by jesse bullington

mamo by sas milledge (+)

from dust, a flame by rebecca podos (+)

uncommon charm by emily bergslien & kat weaver

wild and wicked things by francesca may

the unspoken name by a.k. larkwood

brother red by adrian selby

the final strife by saara el-arifi

way of the argosi by sebastien de castell (+)

the bone shard daughter by andrea stewart

ghost wood song by erica waters (+)

into the crooked place by alexandra christo (+)

ashes of the sun by django wexler

the midnight girls by alicia jasinska (+)

the midnight lie by marie rutkoski (+)

the never tilting world by rin chupeco (+)

water horse by melissa scott

...

a master of djinn by p. djeli clark

the good luck girls by charlotte nicole davis (+)

among thieves by m.j. kuhn

black water sister by zen cho

the velocity of revolution by marshall ryan maresca

sweet & bitter magic by adrienne tooley (+)

the dark tide by alicia jasinska (+)

the library of the unwritten by a.j. hackwith

a dark and hollow star by ashley shuttleworth (+)

the chosen and the beautiful by nghi vo

the councillor by e.j. beaton

these feathered flames by alexandra overy (+)

the factory witches of lowell by c.s. malerich

fireheart tiger by aliette de bodard

...

city of lies by sam hawke

bestiary by k-ming chang

the raven and the reindeer by t. kingfisher

the winter duke by claire eliza bartlett (+)

master of poisons by andrea hairston

the empress of salt and fortune by nghi vo

night flowers shirking from the light of the sun by li xing

down comes the night by allison saft (+)

wench by maxine kaplan (+)

girls made of snow and glass by melissa bashardoust (+)

girls of paper and fire by natasha ngan (+)

the impossible contract by k.a. doore

burning roses by s.l. huang

the house of shattered wings by aliette de bodard

not for use in navigation by iona datt sharma

weak heart by ban gilmartin

girl, serpent, thorn by melissa bashardoust (+)

the devil's blade by mark alder

...

we set the dark on fire by tehlor kay mejia (+)

the true queen by zen cho

moontangled by stephanie burgis

a portable shelter by kirsty logan

sing the four quarters by tanya huff

all the bad apples by moira fowley doyle (+)

the drowning eyes by emily foster

the priory of the orange tree by samantha shannon

miranda in milan by katharine duckett

the afterward by e.k. johnston (+)

thorn by anna burke

penhallow amid passing things by iona datt sharma

in the vanishers' palace by aliette de bodard

summer of salt by katrina leno (+)

the gracekeepers by kirsty logan

out of the blue by sophie cameron (+)

black wolves by kate elliott

the circle by sara b. elfgren & mats strandberg (+)

unspoken by sarah rees brennan (+)

thistlefoot by gennarose nethercott

passing strange by ellen klages

(and breathe)

[sylviazem]

FFXIV Write 2024- Prompt #12: Quarry

"Are you certain of this, Preceptor," the reaper escorted her towards the location of their quarry, now trapped in the old ruins within the cave. "This creature, it's...unlike any we've seen before. I fear it might be too strong."

"Warden, your magicks are in place?"

"...Hm," he murmured. "Holding strong."

"It stopped throwing itself against the barrier some time ago," the other reaper pitched in, nonchalantly leaning against the nearby wall. "I suspect it might be open to...negotiation. Or at least tired."

"You are much too carefree, Chaser," the reaper reprimanded her compatriot. "Please, Preceptor. I urge you to reconsider."

"Your concern and insight is appreciated, as always, Tracker," she reached for her friend's hand to ease her anxiety. "Have faith in our Warden, and in me."

"...Hrm," the Warden began channelling a barrier around the Preceptor. "...You may go. Proceed straight forward."

She stepped into the darkness past the ward, and though the magick surrounding her gave off a faint light, it failed to penetrate the inky blackness that permeated the cave. Not that it mattered to her, for she was blind.

After but a few steps, many shadowy limbs snaked their way through the dark and feverishly attempted to grab her. Frustrated after being repelled, they started clawing and pressing at the barrier from every direction, looking for even the slightest weakness.

"Hello," the Preceptor calmly called out. "Who are you in the dark, so desperately trying to lay your hands on me?"

"Mortal fools," a voice hissed angrily from above. "Your feeble magicks won't hold me for long. Once I break loose, I'll take my time devouring your friends before your very eyes."

"My, how scary. I hate to disappoint, but I'm blind," she sat down. "Devour, you say? And how many have you devoured so far?"

"Countless," the creature dropped down and slithered towards her, grasping the barrier with its true hands. "Hundreds. Thousands. For an age far longer than your pathetic, fleeting existence."

"I see."

"...Why do you not show fear," it angrily struck the barrier, which elicited a strained grunt from the Warden outside. "Why?!"

"Because I do not fear you."

"Insolent mortal wench!" It picked the entire barrier up and attempted to bite into it. "I'll crush you into a bloody pulp within your silly bubble..!"

"I can not see your face, but I wonder," the Preceptor placed her hand against the ward. "Do you even know who you are? Whose stolen countenance do you wear? Whose dead voice spills forth from your maw?"

"...Shut up," the barrier slipped from its hands as it held its head, seemingly in pain. "Shut up, shut up, shut up!!"

The creature disappeared back into the dark, and the Preceptor walked outside with a slight limp. The Warden breathed a sigh of relief and fell to one knee, his aether no doubt fully spent from maintaining the protective spell.

"We shall make camp," the Preceptor said with a slightly shaky voice, betraying a hint of unease through her usual composure. "We shall rest and try again later."

[sotc]

I DID ALL OF DA2 FOR YOU KINGGGGG AAAAAA!!! KICKS MY FEET. TWIRLS MY HAIR.

I wish I could say that I got a lovely nod to Milana and his romance but unfortunately I did not. ): He's borked as hell despite trying to make sure my worldstate reflected his and the Warden's romance. Not really sure what else I could do. It's such a bummer but the mod I installed at least made me feel a little better since he's wearing the earring!!!! 😻💖

My Hawke flirted with him (disaster wench of kirkwall) and at least it was fun to see him be a little flirty back. As is his right to tbqh!!! Milana knows he's out there being a charmer 🙄 but they both know who he's coming back home to sooo teehee

[thealmightyemprex]

Me:*Looking for a comedy,finds one listed called And Justice For All*Oh this can be fun,a courtroom caper

*Watches film which is actually a drama about how broken the legal system is,how it uplifts the vial and powerful and destroys the innocent and marginalized ,and how it can drive moral people to insanity.There is comedy,mostly coming from Jack Warden and Jeffrey Tambor but its mostly an intense drama.Also contains one of the most vial villains I have seen in a while *

Me....WHY IS THIS IN COMEDY ????? Its a good movie,there are funny moments but.....Not a comedy

@ariel-seagull-wings @filmcityworld1 @themousefromfantasyland @the-blue-fairie @theancientvaleofsoulmaking @princesssarisa @piterelizabethdevries @barbossas-wench @amalthea9 @countesspetofi

[dragonagekeeper]

The Arl of Redcliffe Polls

Dragon Age Origins Polls

See quest and choice descriptions from Dragon Age Wiki/Keep below

Bella is a tavern waitress in Redcliffe Village. If a conversation is initiated with the Warden, she admits that she is receiving poor wages and being groped by Lloyd, the tavern owner. The Warden may have the option of helping her leave her life of poverty.

Bella left Redcliffe

The Warden can give her 100 silver to "get out of Redcliffe"

2. Bella took tavern ownership

Bella can alternatively take over the tavern if you force Lloyd to fight and he dies in the battle. 

Bella runs tavern

“The tavern in Redcliffe village, now run by Bella, was renamed "The Grey Warden's Rest." It echoes with tales of how the hero of Ferelden saved the village and healed Arl Eamon with the Sacred Ashes of Andraste. Few believe that such tall tales could possibly be true.”

3. Bella left to start a brewery

The Warden can give her 500 silver to "start a new life" (if the promise to help her has been made before the battle)

Bella went to Denerim

“Bella, the tavern wench, made it to Denerim safely. With the money she was given, she opened a brewery of her own.”

4. Bella died in Redcliffe

If The Warden chooses to abandon Redcliffe, and leaves the village to fight for itself, Bella will die and come back as a revived corpse in the castle.

[istumpysk]

Operation Stumpy Re-Read

ADWD: The Wayward Bride (Asha I) [Chapter 26]

Asha Greyjoy was seated in Galbart Glover's longhall drinking Galbart Glover's wine when Galbart Glover's maester brought the letter to her.

The Greyjoys always tell on themselves.

Same chapter:

"Asha of House Greyjoy. This is my castle."

+.+.+

And that seal … the Boltons of the Dreadfort went into battle beneath pink banners spattered with little drops of blood. It only stood to reason that they would use pink sealing wax as well.

This is poison that I hold, she thought. I ought to burn it. Instead she cracked the seal. A scrap of leather fluttered down into her lap. When she read the dry brown words, her black mood grew blacker still. Dark wings, dark words. The ravens never brought glad tidings. The last message sent to Deepwood had been from Stannis Baratheon, demanding homage. This was worse. "The northmen have taken Moat Cailin."

"The Bastard of Bolton?" asked Qarl, beside her.

"Ramsay Bolton, Lord of Winterfell, he signs himself. But there are other names as well." Lady Dustin, Lady Cerwyn, and four Ryswells had appended their own signatures beneath his. Beside them was drawn a crude giant, the mark of some Umber.

Those were done in maester's ink, made of soot and coal tar, but the message above was scrawled in brown in a huge, spiky hand.

We have to focus on the huge, spiky hand.

That same handwriting is present when Jon receives his first letter from Ramsay.

Ramsay Bolton, Lord of the Hornwood, it read, in a huge, spiky hand. - Jon VI, ADWD

But huge, spiky hand is never mentioned when Jon receives the Pink Letter, so many have speculated Ramsay didn't write it.

However I would argue huge, spiky hand is implied.

The wildling gave the letter a dubious look and handed it right back. "Feels nasty … but Tormund Thunderfist had better things to do than learn to make papers talk at him. They never have any good to say, now do they?" - Jon XIII, ADWD

Tormund can't read, what's making him think the letter feels nasty?

+.+.+

It spoke of the fall of Moat Cailin, of the triumphant return of the Warden of the North to his domains, of a marriage soon to be made. The first words were, "I write this letter in the blood of ironmen," the last, "I send you each a piece of prince. Linger in my lands, and share his fate."

Asha had believed her little brother dead. Better dead than this. The scrap of skin had fallen into her lap. 

Asha learns Theon is alive, which is important for later.

+.+.+

Whether Sybelle Glover would find any joy in the fall of Moat Cailin, Asha could not say. Lady Sybelle all but lived in her godswood, praying for her children and her husband's safe return. Another prayer like to go unanswered. Her heart tree is as deaf and blind as our Drowned God. Robett Glover and his brother Galbart had ridden south with the Young Wolf. If the tales they had heard of the Red Wedding were even half-true, they were not like to ride north again. Her children are alive, at least, and that is thanks to me. Asha had left them at Ten Towers in the care of her aunts. Lady Sybelle's infant daughter was still on the breast, and she had judged the girl too delicate to expose to the rigors of another stormy crossing.

Unreliable narrator Asha Greyjoy.

Her young children would also be alive and with her if you hadn't claimed their castle.

+.+.+

"Euron has no interest in Balon's conquests. My nuncle's off chasing dragons." The Crow's Eye had summoned all the strength of the Iron Isles to Old Wyk and sailed out into the deepness of the Sunset Sea, with his brother Victarion following behind like a whipped cur. 

Lmao.

Forgive me, Vicky.

+.+.+

"We should go to Torrhen's Square and join the fight," urged Quenton Greyjoy, a distant cousin and captain of the Salty Wench.

Somehow I knew he was going to be dead by the end of this chapter.

+.+.+

Asha had four longships and not quite two hundred men … including Tristifer Botley, who could not be relied on. For all his talk of love, she could not imagine Tris rushing off to Torrhen's Square to die with Dagmer Cleftjaw.

Numbers update!

Asha has 4 longships.

Asha has 200 men.

I don't know how many men are still alive after this chapter.

And those ships are anchored on the western coast of the north. Unless there's a mission involving the Shadow Tower, the Frostfangs, or Bear Island, they're not terribly useful.

+.+.+

"I'd sooner fuck you." One quick slash unlaced her jerkin. Asha reached for her axe, but Qarl dropped his knife and caught her wrist, twisting back her arm until the weapon fell from her fingers. He pushed her back onto Glover's bed, kissed her hard, and tore off her tunic to let her breasts spill out. When she tried to knee him in the groin, he twisted away and forced her legs apart with his knees. "I'll have you now."

"Do it," she spat, "and I'll kill you in your sleep."

George would call this consensual love making.

+.+.+

She was sopping wet when he entered her. "Damn you," she said. "Damn you damn you damn you." He sucked her nipples till she cried out half in pain and half in pleasure. Her cunt became the world. She forgot Moat Cailin and Ramsay Bolton and his little piece of skin, forgot the kingsmoot, forgot her failure, forgot her exile and her enemies and her husband. Only his hands mattered, only his mouth, only his arms around her, his cock inside her. He fucked her till she screamed, and then again until she wept, before he finally spent his seed inside her womb.

[...]

She liked the feel of his smooth, soft skin beneath her fingers. She liked the way his long, straight hair brushed against his shoulders. She liked the way he kissed. She liked how he grinned when she brushed her thumbs across his nipples. The hair between his legs was a darker shade of sand than the hair on his head, but fine as down compared to the coarse black bush around her own sex. She liked that too. He had a swimmer's body, long and lean, with not a scar upon him.

[...]

Drunk, smiling, she crawled beneath the furs and took him in her mouth. Qarl stirred in his sleep, and after a moment he began to stiffen. By the time she had him hard again, he was awake and she was wet. Asha draped the furs across her bare shoulders and mounted him, drawing him so deep inside her that she could not tell who had the cock and who the cunt. This time the two of them reached their peak together.

why

+.+.+

The room was cold. Asha rose from Galbart Glover's bed and took off her torn clothes. The jerkin would need fresh laces, but her tunic was ruined. I never liked it anyway. She tossed it on the flames. The rest she left in a puddle by the bed. Her breasts were sore, and Qarl's seed was trickling down her thigh. She would need to brew some moon tea or risk bringing another kraken into the world. 

This never happens. . .

+.+.+

A shy smile, strong arms, clever fingers, and two sure swords. What more could any woman want? She would have married Qarl, and gladly, but she was Lord Balon's daughter and he was common-born, the grandson of a thrall. Too lowborn for me to wed, but not too low for me to suck his cock.

If he knocked you up, you can make him your salt wife.

+.+.+

"My sweet lady," he murmured after, in a voice still thick with sleep. "My sweet queen."

No, Asha thought, I am no queen, nor shall I ever be. 

We're still trying to figure that one out, Asha.

'Sweet lady' is almost exclusively reserved for Sansa and Catelyn in this story, but I think it would be a stretch to suggest the above has anything to do with Sansa.

+.+.+

To east and west were empty fields. Oats and barley had been growing there when Asha took the castle, only to be crushed underfoot during her attack. A series of hard frosts had killed the crops they'd planted afterward, leaving only mud and ash and wilted, rotting stalks.

+.+.+

It was an old castle, but not a strong one. She had taken it from the Glovers, and the Bastard of Bolton would take it from her. He would not flay her, though. Asha Greyjoy did not intend to be taken alive. She would die as she had lived, with an axe in her hand and a laugh upon her lips.

I respect it, Cersei.

+.+.+

If anyone fled, it was me. The memory still shamed her.

[...]

"If I stand with my other uncles …"

"… you will die outcast, with every hand against you. When you put your name before the captains you submitted yourself to their judgment. You cannot go against that judgment now. Only once has the choice of a kingsmoot been overthrown. Read Haereg."

Only Rodrik the Reader would talk of some old book whilst their lives were balanced on a sword's edge. "If you are staying, so am I," she told him stubbornly.

"A book can be as dangerous as a sword in the right hands," said Haldon. - Tyrion IV, ADWD

Rodrik the Reader will save the world.

There might be clever wordplay happening above, see if you can catch it.

+.+.+

"Don't be a fool. Euron shows the world his smiling eye tonight, but come the morrow … Asha, you are Balon's daughter, and your claim is stronger than his own. So long as you draw breath you remain a danger to him. If you stay, you will be killed or wed to the Red Oarsman. I don't know which would be worse. Go. You will not have another chance."

Is this about Euron or someone else? Why not both!

+.+.+

Asha was still at Ten Towers taking on provisions when the tidings of her marriage reached her. "My wayward niece needs taming," the Crow's Eye was reported to have said, "and I know the man to tame her." He had married her to Erik Ironmaker and named the Anvil-Breaker to rule the Iron Islands whilst he was chasing dragons. 

[...]

She had to pay her nuncle his just due. With one stroke, Euron had turned a rival into a supporter, secured the isles in his absence, and removed Asha as a threat. And enjoyed a good belly laugh too. Tris Botley said that the Crow's Eye had used a seal to stand in for her at her wedding. "I hope Erik did not insist on a consummation," she'd said.

Lol, how can you not love Euron?

Arya fans like to use this proxy wedding to support their belief that Arya is Lady of Winterfell. Nobody tell them this is a different religion, and that's the dumbest thing anyone has ever said.

+.+.+

The sound of the waves washing against a rocky shore was in her blood, but there were no waves at Deepwood Motte … only the trees, the endless trees, soldier pines and sentinels, beech and ash and ancient oaks, chestnut trees and ironwoods and firs. The sound they made was softer than the sea, and she heard it only when the wind was blowing; then the sighing seemed to come from all around her, as if the trees were whispering to one another in some language that she could not understand.

Tonight the whispering seemed louder than before. A rush of dead brown leaves, Asha told herself, bare branches creaking in the wind. 

BRAN?!

+.+.+

"It's not food I want, my lady. You know that." Tris had grown himself a thick brown beard at Deepwood. He claimed it helped to keep his face warm.

Yeah, I bet that's why.

Qarl pleased her more than all the rest together. He might shave but once a fortnight, but a shaggy beard does not make a man. - The Wayward Bride, ADWD

You ever notice there's numerous love triangles that feature one spurned man, who isn't wanted by the girl? :)

+.+.+

"Would you have me run?"

"I would have you live. I love you."

No, she thought, you love some innocent maiden who lives only in your head, a frightened child in need of your protection. "I do not love you," she said bluntly, "and I do not run."

Be fair Asha, I'm sure there's many men who fantasize about these things, whether they admit it or not.

+.+.+

"I have hostages, on Harlaw," she reminded him. "And there is still Sea Dragon Point … if I cannot have my father's kingdom, why not make one of my own?" Sea Dragon Point had not always been as thinly peopled as it was now. Old ruins could still be found amongst its hills and bogs, the remains of ancient strongholds of the First Men. In the high places, there were weirwood circles left by the children of the forest.

What a weird insertion that was.

Why in the world would a Greyjoy who worships a Drowned God mention that?

+.+.+

"You are clinging to Sea Dragon Point the way a drowning man clings to a bit of wreckage. What does Sea Dragon have that anyone could ever want? There are no mines, no gold, no silver, not even tin or iron. The land is too wet for wheat or corn."

I do not plan on planting wheat or corn.

Please learn to sow. Don't doom yourself like the other one.

+.+.+

"Do you know what I think?"

"I am about to, I suspect."

"I think the Damphair's dead. I think the Crow's Eye slit his throat for him. Ironmaker's search is just to make us believe the priest escaped. Euron is afraid to be seen as a kinslayer."

"Never let my nuncle hear you say that. Tell the Crow's Eye he's afraid of kinslaying, and he'll murder one of his own sons just to prove you wrong."

She's right, he does not care.

"Not even you would dare," said the Damphair. "I am your brother. No man is more accursed than the kinslayer."

"And yet I wear a crown and you rot in chains. How is it that your Drowned God allows that when I have killed three brothers?" - The Forsaken, TWOW

He ties Dam-phair to the prow of his ship for everyone to see. Is he really worried about appearances?

+.+.+

"Even if you did find your uncle Damphair, the two of you would fail. You were both part of the kingsmoot, so you cannot say it was unlawful called, as Torgon did. You are bound to its decision by all the laws of gods and men. You—"

Asha frowned. "Wait. Torgon? Which Torgon?"

"Torgon the Latecomer."

"He was a king during the Age of Heroes." She recalled that much about him, but little else. "What of him?"

"Torgon Greyiron was the king's eldest son. But the king was old and Torgon restless, so it happened that when his father died he was raiding along the Mander from his stronghold on Greyshield. His brothers sent no word to him but instead quickly called a kingsmoot, thinking that one of them would be chosen to wear the driftwood crown. But the captains and the kings chose Urragon Goodbrother to rule instead. The first thing the new king did was command that all the sons of the old king be put to death, and so they were. After that men called him Badbrother, though in truth they'd been no kin of his. He ruled for almost two years."

Asha remembered now. "Torgon came home …"

"… and said the kingsmoot was unlawful since he had not been there to make his claim. Badbrother had proved to be as mean as he was cruel and had few friends left upon the isles. The priests denounced him, the lords rose against him, and his own captains hacked him into pieces. Torgon the Latecomer became the king and ruled for forty years."

Asha took Tris Botley by the ears and kissed him full upon the lips. 

Well looky here.

Asha learns Theon is alive, and then we get this. The one time a kingsmoot was overthrown, it was because the king's eldest son Torgon wasn't present. Urr(Eur)agon the Badbrother was chosen instead.

There's only one way to interpret that, but I think the author might be playing tricks.

Only once has the choice of a kingsmoot been overthrown. Read Haereg.

Red herring.

I'm sorry, there isn't an ironborn alive who would look at Theon and think he's king material. This version, or the one from ACOK.

+.+.+

She broke off suddenly. When Tris tried to speak, she shushed him, listening. "That's a warhorn. Hagen."

[...]

"Cromm and Hagen saw them coming over the wall," Grimtongue explained.

"Just these two?" asked Asha.

"Five. We killed two before they could get over, and Harl slew another on the wallwalk. These two made it to the yard."

[...]

"How many more?" she said. "Tell me, or I'll make your dying last until the dawn."

"Many," he finally sobbed, between screams. "Thousands. Three thousand, four … aieeee … please …"

Numbers update!

Stannis has 3000-4000 men.

Stannis had come north with no more than fifteen hundred men - Davos III, ADWD

1500-2500 of those men are the mountain clans, and we desperately need most of them to survive his downfall.

+.+.+

Galbart Glover's maester had claimed the mountain clans were too quarrelsome to ever band together without a Stark to lead them. He might not have been lying. He might just have been wrong. 

Correct me if I'm wrong, but we'll later learn the mountain clans are only helping Stannis to restore Stark rule, yes?

+.+.+

The maester pushed forward, with blood dripping from a broken nose. "Lady Asha, I beg you, strike your banners and let me bargain for your life. You have used us fairly, and with honor. I will tell them so."

"We will exchange you for the children." Sybelle Glover's eyes were red, from tears and sleepless nights. "Gawen is four now. I missed his nameday. And my sweet girl … give me back my children, and no harm need come to you. Nor to your men."

The last part was a lie, Asha knew. She might be exchanged, perhaps, shipped back to the Iron Islands to her husband's loving arms. Her cousins would be ransomed too, as would Tris Botley and a few more of her company, those whose kin had coin enough to buy them back. For the rest it would be the axe, the noose, or the Wall. Still, they have the right to choose.

All I can think about is Theon.

"I do not speak of running. Take the black."

"The Night's Watch?" Theon let the bow unbend slowly and pointed the arrow at the ground.

"Ser Rodrik has served House Stark all his life, and House Stark has always been a friend to the Watch. He will not deny you. Open your gates, lay down your arms, accept his terms, and he must let you take the black."

A brother of the Night's Watch. It meant no crown, no sons, no wife . . . but it meant life, and life with honor. Ned Stark's own brother had chosen the Watch, and Jon Snow as well.

I have black garb aplenty, once I tear the krakens off. Even my horse is black. I could rise high in the Watch—chief of rangers, likely even Lord Commander. Let Asha keep the bloody islands, they're as dreary as she is. If I served at Eastwatch, I could command my own ship, and there's fine hunting beyond the Wall. As for women, what wildling woman wouldn't want a prince in her bed? A slow smile crept across his face. A black cloak can't be turned. I'd be as good as any man . . . - Theon VI, ACOK

+.+.+

The wooden watchtower was the tallest thing this side of the mountains, rising twenty feet above the biggest sentinels and soldier pines in the surrounding woods. "There, Captain," said Cromm, when she made the platform. Asha saw only trees and shadows, the moonlit hills and the snowy peaks beyond. Then she realized that trees were creeping closer. "Oho," she laughed, "these mountain goats have cloaked themselves in pine boughs." The woods were on the move, creeping toward the castle like a slow green tide.

This is so cool. I want to see the crannogmen fight next.

+.+.+

She thought back to a tale she had heard as a child, about the children of the forest and their battles with the First Men, when the greenseers turned the trees to warriors.

Yo, the trees are warriors!

Everything turned inside out and upside down, and Bran found himself back inside his own skin, half-buried in the snow. The burning wight loomed over him, etched tall against the trees in their snowy shrouds. It was one of the naked ones, Bran saw, in the instant before the nearest tree shook off the snow that covered it and dropped it all down upon his head.

[...]

"The snow," Bran said. "It fell on me. Buried me."

"Hid you. I pulled you out." Meera nodded at the girl. - Bran II, ADWD

Kill Melisandre. Do it.

+.+.+

"We cannot fight so many," Tris Botley said.

"We can fight as many as come, pup," insisted Cromm. "The more there are, the more the glory. Men will sing of us."

Aye, but will they sing of your courage or my folly? 

She knows the answer to that.

+.+.+

Asha was not ready to die, not here, not yet. "A living man can find the sea more easily than a dead one. Let the wolves keep their gloomy woods. We are making for the ships."

Smart girl.

Greyjoys being adamant they must die near water is my favourite thing.

+.+.+

From beyond Deepwood's mossy wooden walls came the sudden sound of trumpets.

Trumpets? Wolves with trumpets? That was wrong, but Asha had no time to ponder it. 

Here comes the loser with his trumpet to ruin a fun stealth mission.

+.+.+

As Hagen came scrambling down the watchtower steps, a wolfling's arrow caught him in the belly and sent him plunging headfirst to the ground. His daughter ran to him, wailing. "Bring her," Asha commanded. This was no time for mourning. Rolfe the Dwarf pulled the girl onto his horse, her red hair flying.

I don't know what to make of this red-headed girl.

+.+.+

Deepwood was aptly named. The trees were huge and dark, somehow threatening. Their limbs wove through one another and creaked with every breath of wind, and their higher branches scratched at the face of the moon. The sooner we are shut of here, the better I will like it, Asha thought. The trees hate us all, deep in their wooden hearts.

[...]

After the scouts had vanished into the trees, the rest of the ironborn resumed their march, but the going was slow. The trees hid the moon and stars from them, and the forest floor beneath their feet was black and treacherous. 

[...]

Asha cursed beneath her breath, wondering if it had been a mistake to leave the castle. No. If we had stayed and fought, we might all be dead by now. But it was no good blundering on through the dark either. These trees will kill us if they can. 

THIS SHOULD BE STANNIS.

Stannis should have to fight threatening trees! It's not fair he gets to weaponize them! Where's the justice!

+.+.+

Hagen's red-haired daughter seized Tris Botley by the hand to draw him off into the trees. When he refused her, she went off with Six-Toed Harl instead.

Would that I could do the same. It would be sweet to lose herself in Qarl's arms one last time. 

Sex before the final battle is a classic trope, but this is a little out there.

+.+.+

Something flew from the brush to land with a soft thump in their midst, bumping and bouncing. It was round and dark and wet, with long hair that whipped about it as it rolled. When it came to rest amongst the roots of an oak, Grimtongue said, "Rolfe the Dwarf's not so tall as he once was." Half her men were on their feet by then, reaching for shields and spears and axes. They lit no torches either, Asha had time enough to think, and they know these woods better than we ever could. Then the trees erupted all around them, and the northmen poured in howling. Wolves, she thought, they howl like bloody wolves. The war cry of the north.

[...]

"Seven," shouted Grimtongue, but beside him Lorren Longaxe sprawled with one leg twisted under him, and the shadows kept on coming, shouting and rustling. We are fighting shrubbery, Asha thought as she slew a man who had more leaves on him than most of the surrounding trees. That made her laugh.

I'm so bitter the author wasted this on Asha instead of Stannis.

+.+.+

Behind her Grimtongue shouted, "Nine, and damn you all." Hagen's daughter burst naked from beneath the trees with two wolves at her heels. Asha wrenched loose a throwing axe and sent it flying end over end to take one of them in the back. When he fell, Hagen's daughter stumbled to her knees, snatched up his sword, stabbed the second man, then rose again, smeared with blood and mud, her long red hair unbound, and plunged into the fight.

This girl is ruining the immersion.

+.+.+

The world went red and black and red again. Pain crackled up her leg like lightning, and far away she heard her northman say, "You bloody cunt," as he lifted up his axe for the blow that would finish her.

A trumpet blew.

That's wrong, she thought. There are no trumpets in the Drowned God's watery halls. Below the waves the merlings hail their lord by blowing into seashells.

She dreamt of red hearts burning, and a black stag in a golden wood with flame streaming from his antlers.

Is that hidden foreshadowing or more R'hllor nonsense?

Patchface is a servant of the Drowned God, confirmed.

Patchface jumped up. "I will lead it!" His bells rang merrily. "We will march into the sea and out again. Under the waves we will ride seahorses, and mermaids will blow seashells to announce our coming, oh, oh, oh." - Jon XIII, ADWD

Final thoughts:

This doesn't count as a victory for Stannis. The trees and Jon Snow won.

-> return to menu <-

[scribbledquillz]

Your Fire Burns in My Veins

A Dragon Age: Origins Fanfic - Updated March 13th, 2023

Chapter 4 - Where Two Paths Meet

Summary:

"He was at the precipice now. Standing on the cliff’s edge watching the very earth slip away beneath his boots, tumbling away into blissful oblivion. It called to him. Beckoned him to take his last step, and he could stand the wait no longer."

A first meeting between a Warden and a Crow is not all the latter had expected, though perhaps that is for the best.

The tree fell to the ground with a thunderous crash, its boughs splintering beneath the heft of its own weight. Zevran’s blood thrilled at the sight, anticipation coursing through him as he watched the Wardens and their fellows throw themselves to the ground, rushing to flee from the old oak’s uncaring path. There would be no chance of failure now. No deviation or risk of unseen error in his plans. Soon the weeks of careful plans and frigid misery would be made worthy of his effort, and no one save the Maker himself could deprive him of what he sought now.

The elf was the first back to her feet, a grin full of teeth pulling at Zevran's mouth as fury caught like wildfire across her face with the appearance of Karrok's men. Dark eyes brimming with flames snared themselves on him, her own snarl pinning him within her sights. She was perfect. In fact perhaps more so than was deserved of a man such as him, lovely and wicked in her rage as she was, though he did not have the will to deny himself this last pleasure. It seemed only right for it to be her who would cast him to the Void, a creature seeming so terribly alike to the one whose blood still stained his hands. Poetic, almost. 

The groan of a bowstring from his left drew him back from his musing, and he raised a hand to stay any fool choices that might cost him his justice. "She is mine," he said, gaze unmoving from the woman below while her companions rushed to pull themselves from the ground. "Your men will not touch her. Understood?"

The air at his back bristled with magic, the sting of Lucea's glare setting gooseflesh prickling over his skin. He ignored it, what little patience she had dredged from him long spoiled since they had taken their leave of the tavern.

Karrok grunted from his place at Zevran's right. "What in the Void does it matter? You want them dead or not?"

"Are we understood, my friend?"

The dwarf made another noise like gravel against teeth. "Understood." He turned to his men. "Heard him yourselves, didn't you? Elf wench is off limits 'less she's comin' for your stones." Then, after a short pause, "Take the soddin' Qunari down, and fast. Extra sov to whoever brings me his sword."

A soft murmur of agreement rippled through the men behind him as Zevran drew his daggers free, the pulse at his throat driving ever faster, ever more frantically. He was at the precipice now. Standing on the cliff’s edge watching the very earth slip away beneath his boots, tumbling away into blissful oblivion. It called to him. Beckoned him to take his last step, and he could stand the wait no longer. 

“The Grey Wardens die here!”

Continue the story on AO3 or start from the beginning

[lovelystoriesaj]

CHAPTER 4.

word count: 1036

"jesus christ." i mumble as i pull up to the house. making my way in, dressed as laurie strode with the gas mask from my bloody valentine.

"and who are you?" stu asks with a smile. i yank the mask off my face, letting the blonde streaks fall free. "seriously?"

"mhm. it was either this or michael myers, and i wanted to be more original." waving the mask around before slipping it back on. "i've got my shit in the car. tatum and sid will be here in a few."

"ok, i'll go get it. go find randy or something." he nods to my car before walking off. i walk over to randy who was already in the living room.

"guess who." i laugh, covering his eyes.

"lemme guess, laurie strode?" he jokes, grabbing my waist and pulling me into his chest.

"with a twist of hardy warden." he laughs loudly, pulling the mask off my face so he could plant a kiss on my lips.

"i wanna dance, let's dance!" i smile, getting into a rhythm he could copy.

we dance for a while until stu calls me into the kitchen with a beer funnel.

"oh hell yes!" i walk over, grabbing the tube, sticking it in my mouth, sucking down the alcohol as stu pours it into the funnel. "stu, why the fuck is that priss reporter here?" i notice the top story van and dewey's car outside.

"i don't know!" he drops the funnel, watching dewey and gale weathers talking outside.

"stuart macher, you are a total fucking dumbass! why the hell would you let the deputy and some annoying reporter in here!" i yell, walking into the living room.

"know what, it's not a biggie, let's go hang." we plop down onto the couch where randy was taking tally for the movie to watch.

"how come jamie lee curtis is in all of these movies?" sid mumbles, flipping through the tapes.

"because she's the scream queen." randy smiles.

"with a set of lungs like that, she should be!" stu remarks.

"tits. see?" tatum says.

the door opens, which redirects mine and stu's eyes to the deputy and reporter.

"i'm gonna get them to leave." he jumps over the back of the couch, almost tripping over his hugh hefner robe. "hey tate. grab another beer, would ya? there's more beer in the garage."

"what am i, the beer wench?" she hops up, and walks into the garage.

"i'm gonna run to the restroom." i mumble to sidney and randy before shooting up the stairs into stu's bedroom. i change my shoes, from heels to converse, before grabbing my other stuff and putting it in an easy access spot.

i walk back downstairs, grabbing randy's hand before dragging him into one of the guest rooms.

"what's got you all worked up?" he smiles.

"nothing. i'm just in a good mood."

"then jamie lee me already baby." i lean back into the mattress, pulling him into me.

MEANWHILE

tatum slips into the garage, clicking on the light while opening the garage door and shutting it again. she skips over to the fridge, pulling out five bottles.

a loud crash makes her whip around.

"jesus!"

a cat runs out of the garage through the dog flap.

"tatum, it's ok." she goes to open the door, but finds it locked. "shit." then the lights click off. she knocks on the door in an attempt to get one of the dimwits to let her back inside. "hey shitheads! hello?"

she opens the garage again, almost walking out when it stops and closes, turning around to be met with ghost face.

"is that you, randy?"

they shake their head no.

"cute. what movie is this from, i spit on your garage?" she jokes, walking over to the door. "lose the outfit, if sidney sees it, she'll flip."

they block the door, shaking their head no.

"oh! you wanna play psycho killer? can i be the helpless victim? okay, let's see, no, please don't kill me mr. ghost face, i wanna be in the sequel!" she tries to get around them, but gets stopped again. "cut casper! that's a wrap!"

they grab her, making the bottles fall from her arms.

"randy, what the hell are you doing?"

a knife appears in their hand before cutting her arm open. she starts backing up, grasping her arm tightly to stop the blood flow. she runs to the freezer, hitting them in the face before she runs to open the garage door, picking up some of the unbroken bottles to throw at the person.

she runs over to the dog flap, trying to crawl through when the garage door begins to open.

BACK TO MADDIE

i hop out of the bed, randy following in pursuit so we could meet back with the others.

"i'm gonna go grab something." i smile, kissing his cheek before walking up the stairs again. this time, i shove my pistol into my pants waistband. at this time, some people were leaving. i walk down the stairs as billy pops his head i to the door, scaring sidney. he shoots stu the look before looking back at sid.

"leave the girl alone, b!" i shoot a nerf bullet at his head that i found in stu's room.

"hey, that's mine!" stu whines. i toss him the toy gun once i get to the bottom of the stairs.

"oh, billy, hey."

"billy, hm. what are you doin' here?" stu says with a smile.

"i was hoping i could talk to sid alone." billy shoots me the look to go get ready, which i immediately take, and start up the stairs.

"you know, if tatum sees you here, she'll draw blood."

"i'll tell you what. why don't you go up to my parents room? you know, you guys can talk, whatever."

i fake gag from the top of the staircase, which the boys notice.

"subtlety, stu. you should look it up." billy shoots back.

"no, it's ok. we do need to talk." as he walks into the house, he nails stu right in the gut.

it's gonna be a long night.

[partialconstellations]

WIP Ask Game

I was tagged by @gingersprites and this looked just fun

Rules: post the names of all the files in your wip folder regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have wips! lol no, I don’t know that many people. I’m tagging @jeyne-stark @istaricelebelasse @salty-wench instead

this is not alphabetical because it’s got sub folders. i might be messy, but i’m messy with a system, okay

sansajeynes abo breeding porn

nedcat abo au

nedcat horndogs sequel

nedcat to keep the goddess on my side

nedcat wedding night

ramsaytheonsansa au

reyne queen servant roleplay

robb hadn

roslin frey is a gift

sansaarianne

sansaasha

sayne priestess worshipper

seyne monsterfucking

theolyn theon is presumptous and must be held responsible

au in which theon and sansa went to the wall together and lyanna mormont doesn

threyne bodyheat fuck my wife theon

ned almost made it to the north safely

jontormund snippets

sansadany in the north

if you’re still bleeding you’re the lucky ones

alpenglow modern ganster au

theonsa viking au

theonsa consentancles pt3

theonsa professor sansa ta theon

theonsa siren songs and other unhappy memories

theonsa chickens!

theonsa harlaws in the house bitches

theonsa horse boi

theonsa 26 pleasure 30 mistakes prince int he tower pt2

theonsa sexual healing

throbb take me to the lakes where all the poets went to die

throbb the flood that wrecked our home

hawkefenrisisabela triad, skyhold

i wrote het question mark

josie and cass do the thing

josie and ftrevelyan save the world and then fuck off to be business wives

leliana and the mage warden do it on cullens desk

nina matthias schlachthaus au

[justabrowncoatedwench]

[mayakern]

You know every time I see Spitfire thirst on this blog I immediately get flustered and internally go "Aight, dehydrated wenches. Get in the bus, ya goin' to horny jail. Welcome aboard, I'll be your driver today."

And it took all but a second for me to realize that of *course* Maya is going to horny jail- They're the Warden.

sfgdsddgssfe i LIVE here

[batmanonthecover]

BATMAN (Daily Newspaper Strip) - May 30 to July 9, 1966 (Ledger Syndicate - USA)

“CATWOMAN IS A WILY WENCH”

Characters: Batman (Bruce Wayne), Robin (Dick Grayson), Commissioner Gordon, Chief O’Hara, Catwoman, Warden Crichton, Prison Guard Shultz, The Alley Cats

Synopsis: Following her escape from prison Catwoman tries to lure the Dynamic Duo into a series of death traps.

Batman story #1,132

[mrsjadecurtiss]

What do you think of Robert? What are your opinions on him, do you think that if the war never happened that he'd still go down this self destructive path?

I think Robert was fundamentally not made to be a king - He has the charisma and the looks and is an able warrior, but his negative character traits are indulged and enhanced by his position and led him down an almost unavoidable path.

Robert is someone who above all wants to enjoy and live an easy life:

"You need to come south," Robert told him. "You need a taste of summer before it flees. [...] Flowers everywhere, the markets bursting with food, the summerwines so cheap and so good that you can get drunk just breathing the air. Everyone is fat and drunk and rich." He laughed and slapped his own ample stomach a thump. "And the girls, Ned!" he exclaimed, his eyes sparkling. "I swear, women lose all modesty in the heat.[...]" The king laughed happily. Robert Baratheon had always been a man of huge appetites, a man who knew how to take his pleasures. - Eddard I, aGoT

"Robert wanted smiles and cheers, always, so he went where he found them, to his friends and his whores. Robert wanted to be loved." - Sansa IV, aCoK

He has just enough of a moral understanding to at least know when he is doing wrong and to even feel bad about it at times, but not enough to actually change anything about himself.

The rage was gone from him now; in his eyes Ned saw something sad and scared. "I should not have hit [Cersei]. That was not … that was not kingly." He stared down at his hands, as if he did not quite know what they were. - Eddard X, aGoT

Robert desires to have an easy life, he wants to be loved, he wants to have fun, but he does not want to deal with the hard and unpleasant things. In times of crisis, he wants to take the easy way out, and he prefers to avoid uncomfortable truths.

Lord Tywin stared at him as if he had lost his wits. "[...] When I laid those bodies before the throne, no man could doubt that we had forsaken House Targaryen forever. And Robert's relief was palpable. As stupid as he was, even he knew that Rhaegar's children had to die if his throne was ever to be secure. Yet he saw himself as a hero, and heroes do not kill children." - Tyrion VI, aSoS

"Well, now I know Jaime's dark sin, and the matter can be forgotten. I am heartily sick of secrets and squabbles and matters of state, Ned." - Eddard II, aGoT

"Most likely the king did not know," Littlefinger said. "It would not be the first time. Our good Robert is practiced at closing his eyes to things he would rather not see." - Eddard IV, aGoT

He feels most comfortable when he is surrounded by people who love him and know how to handle him/want the best for him, and steer him onto the right path in a way where he can still feel good about himself.

"These are difficult times. I need good men about me. Men like Jon Arryn. He served as Lord of the Eyrie, as Warden of the East, as the Hand of the King. He will not be easy to replace." - Eddard I, aGoT

In an environment that works against him, or goes against his wishes even if it is for the better, it creates a destructive energy in him. He cannot stand dissent to his wishes because it robs him of a pleasure he desires, and creates unwanted conflict. He also cannot handle constructive criticism because it makes him confront unpleasant truths - he always wants the easiest path with the least tension. If he is presented with a situation that strains his limits as there is no amiable solution to a difficult/disturbing problem, his reaction is a toxic one; turning to rage and violence even towards his own child.

Not for the first time, he wondered what he was doing here and why he had come. He was no Jon Arryn, to curb the wildness of his king and teach him wisdom. Robert would do what he pleased, as he always had, and nothing Ned could say or do would change that. - Eddard II, aGoT

He may act against what he knows is right, because it is the easiest route; like when he has the wolf Lady killed to please Cersei:

“A costly pelt,” Robert grumbled. “I want no part of this, woman. You can damn well buy your furs with Lannister gold.” [...] "We have a wolf," Cersei Lannister said. Her voice was very quiet, but her green eyes shone with triumph. It took them all a moment to comprehend her words, but when they did, the king shrugged irritably. "As you will. Have Ser Ilyn see to it." - “Robert, you cannot mean this,” Ned protested. The king was in no mood for more argument. “Enough, Ned, I will hear no more." - Eddard III, aGoT

"I am sorry for your girl, Ned. Truly. About the wolf, I mean. My son was lying, I'd stake my soul on it." - Eddard VII, aGoT

And when Ned reprimands him about Daenerys he will not hear dissent, even though he knows deep down that it is wrong:

He gave the king a long cool look. “Would [the man who spared Barristan] were here today.” Robert had shame enough to blush. “It was not the same,” he complained. “Ser Barristan was a knight of the Kingsguard.” - “Whereas Daenerys is a fourteen-year-old girl.”

[...] “Not another word. Have you forgotten who is king here?” - “No, Your Grace,” Ned replied. “Have you?” - “Enough!” the king bellowed. “I am sick of talk. I’ll be done with this, or be damned."

[...] “I will not be part of murder, Robert. Do as you will, but do not ask me to fix my seal to  it.” For a moment Robert did not seem to understand what Ned was saying. Defiance was not a dish he tasted often. Slowly his face changed as comprehension came. [...] “You are the King’s Hand, Lord Stark. You will do as I command you, or I’ll find me a Hand who will.” - “I wish him every success.” Ned [...] laid [his badge of office] on the table in front of the king, saddened by the memory of the man who had pinned it on him, the friend he had loved. “I thought you a better man than this, Robert. I thought we had made a nobler king.” Robert’s face was purple. “Out,” he croaked, choking on his rage. “[...] Go, run back to Winterfell. And make certain I never look on your face again, or I swear, I’ll have your head on a spike!” - Eddard VIII, aGoT

“Gods have mercy,” he muttered, swallowing his agony. “The girl. Daenerys. Only a child, you were right . . . that’s why, the girl . . . the gods sent the boar . . . sent to punish me . . .” - Eddard XIII, aGoT

Robert is a man who always wants it easy, he wants his demands to always be fulfilled, to be loved and have fun without dealing with the bad things; but an important theme that is repeated over and over in asoiaf is that you can only act good if you are willing to face the bad that may come with it, and if you cannot live with the consequences, your action might not be justified.*

Bran thought about it. "Can a man still be brave if he's afraid?" - "That is the only time a man can be brave." - Bran I, aGoT

"Sacrifice . . . is never easy, Davos. Or it is no true sacrifice." - Davos VI, aSoS

"The blood of the First Men still flows in the veins of the Starks, and we hold to the belief that the man who passes the sentence should swing the sword. If you would take a man's life, you owe it to him to look into his eyes and hear his final words. And if you cannot bear to do that, then perhaps the man does not deserve to die." - Bran I, aGoT

Ned stood, gently disengaging himself from Sansa's grasp. All the weariness of the past four days had returned to him. "Do it yourself then, Robert," he said in a voice cold and sharp as steel. "At least have the courage to do it yourself." - Robert looked at Ned with flat, dead eyes and left without a word, his footsteps heavy as lead. Silence filled the hall. - Eddard III, aGoT

This is why putting him on the throne was poison - all the power in the world, and noone who would dare go against his wishes. It indulges all of Robert's worst traits, and buries anything he had inside him that was salvageable.

Ser Barristan Selmy spoke up. "Your Grace," he said, "it is not seemly that the king should ride into the melee. It would not be a fair contest. Who would dare strike you?" - "Ser Barristan is right. There's not a man in the Seven Kingdoms who would dare risk your displeasure by hurting you." - Eddard VII, aGoT

I am surrounded by flatterers and fools, the king had insisted. Ned looked down the council table and wondered which were the flatterers and which the fools. He thought he knew already. - Eddard IV, aGoT

And Robert knows it - he knows being a king isn't for him, that he doesn't enjoy the actual work that goes into governing, that he doesn't have the personality for such politics or to deal with the people involved, and that he would much rather spend his time enjoying life and doing what he loves...

"Look at what kinging has done to me. Gods, too fat for my armor, how did it ever come to this? [...] I swear to you, I was never so alive as when I was winning this throne, or so dead as now that I’ve won it." - Eddard VII, aGoT

"I swear to you, sitting a throne is a thousand times harder than winning one. Laws are a tedious business and counting coppers is worse. And the people … there is no end of them. I sit on that damnable iron chair and listen to them complain until my mind is numb and my ass is raw. They all want something, money or land or justice. The lies they tell … and my lords and ladies are no better. I am surrounded by flatterers and fools. It can drive a man to madness, Ned. Half of them don't dare tell me the truth, and the other half can't find it. There are nights I wish we had lost at the Trident. Ah, no, not truly, but …" - Eddard I, aGoT

Robert groaned with good-humored impatience. "If I wanted to honor you, I'd let you retire. I am planning to make you run the kingdom and fight the wars while I eat and drink and wench myself into an early grave." - Eddard I, aGoT

"Let me tell you a secret, Ned. More than once, I have dreamed of giving up the crown. Take ship for the Free Cities with my horse and my hammer, spend my time warring and whoring, that's what I was made for. The sellsword king, how the singers would love me." - Eddard VII, aGoT

And yet he doesn't do anything about it and keeps staying at the position he hates - he does not want to deal with the uncomfortable consequences that would come with upsetting the status quo, or making changes to his own personality and going through growth, or confronting ugly truths about himself in a productive way, etc etc.

He does make a talk of changes at times during aGoT, and seems to have a sense of responsibility about his Job, but as it is his desire for changes came too late, and what responsibility he felt mostly served to paralyze him in place.

"The sellsword king, how the singers would love me. You know what stops me? The thought of Joffrey on the throne, with Cersei standing behind him whispering in his ear. My son. How could I have made a son like that, Ned?" - Eddard VII, aGoT

"I'm still young, and now that you're here with me, things will be different. We'll make this a reign to sing of, and damn the Lannisters to seven hells." - Eddard VII, aGoT

In a way Joffrey is to Robert what Ramsay is to Roose: an exploration of the inherent flaw in their way of life, demonstrated in the most extreme case. In Joffrey's case, it shows what happens to give someone unlimited power with noone daring to oppose them.

Do you think that if the war never happened that he'd still go down this self destructive path?

It's a little unclear which war you mean, so I will briefly touch on several points:

There could have been ideal circumstances where he might have worked out as a king, if he was surrounded by people who know the perfect way to deal with him and make him work past his flaws (intuitively doing the work of a modern therapist), but the average life is not ideal and grrm shows the realistic fate of a man like Robert.

I think by the time Ned arrived it was sadly too late to change - maybe if the Lannisters didn't exist, or this or that event hadn't happened, but Grrm shows that most of what lead to Robert's downfall was in the end caused by himself. Cersei kills him because she came to despise the man he was, and for good reason as he abused her during all her marriage - and while he has some scenes of feeling bad or even apologizing for it, he never made any attempts to actually change the terrible way he was treating her.

If Robert's Rebellion never happened, he would have probably made an able enough Lord of Storm's End; delegating his "boring" administrative duties to his advisors and maester, enjoying the privileges of highborn life, and having just enough responsibility to feel like the alpha male of his society yet not enough to do as lasting damage as he did for the throne. He would not have been the best Lord, but sadly there are many worse in Westeros, since the entire dynastic ruling system is inherently flawed. If he would have been a better person depends on who he is surrounded with, if circumstances would have motivated him to change, or if perhaps his position of power and outward influences would still just have indulged him into the man he was in aGoT. Ultimately, there are a lot of butterfly effects leading to different results that i’m sure have been explored in many fics.

"Love is sweet, dearest Ned, but it cannot change a man's nature." - Eddard IX, aGoT

This was the boy he had grown up with, he thought; this was the Robert Baratheon he'd known and loved. If he could prove that the Lannisters were behind the attack on Bran, prove that they had murdered Jon Arryn, this man would listen. Then Cersei would fall, and the Kingslayer with her, and if Lord Tywin dared to rouse the west, Robert would smash him as he had smashed Rhaegar Targaryen on the Trident. He could see it all so clearly. - Eddard VII, aGoT    

What do you think of Robert?

Since i am someone who frequently enjoys morally grey and villainous characters, despite his many negative traits i have a fondness of Robert; I think he is an interesting character and very human in his flaws, and there is a lot of melancholy to his story that makes me somber about him even if it obviously does not excuse his bad actions. I also think he has a great character design that's fun to draw and some fun boisterous scenes, and some of his positive qualities remind me of people i know.

*Stannis is an interesting character as Robert’s brother, as he is the opposite to him in this regard, as well as in many aspects of their personality and even their outward presentation (like how Stannis crops his beard short to contrast Robert’s wild one)

[insaneillusionist]

I just realized that Warden Wrath called Eda an “impudent wench” (I think) in A Lying Witch And A Warden. So we have at least three examples of characters not calling other characters bitches.

(I think I only hate Philip’s because it doesn’t flow. Luz’s self-censorship makes sense, and Wrath’s sounds okay to me. But hateable sorceress? That doesn’t flow. Not in the slightest.)