#blodistridi.

[fullcfterrors]

@blodistridi​  hit  the   ♡   for  a  starter  !!!

             with the treacherous sounds eluding from outside of her tent, margaery tyrell could have sworn that a battle had broken out. horses whinnying  ;  the sounds of their hooves pummeling against the ground below them was almost terrifying. sirens and horns were sounded, the dire shouts of men booming throughout the campsite, the sheer panic that levitated within the air and spilled in through the private drapes of her own pavilion. quickly finding the fabrics to cloak herself, margaery wrapped a dress around her waist and allowed freshly dropped curls to pirouette over her spine  –––  making her way out of the tent as her elbow was immediately grasped by a knight wearing her rose emblem. as he dragged her along, fear turning his tone into a trembling quiver, margaery fought for an answer as to what was going on. demands left her lips, commanding that as wife to the king, she needed to know. and that was when she heard the dreaded words. the king was dead. 

freeing herself from his grasp, stumbling through the campsite with one motive within her mind. there was one thing that the young rose of highgarden knew within that moment and that was, that she needed to find robb. staggering across horses charging through the camp grounds as baratheon men fled from the scene, margaery collided with numerous people  –––  collecting scrapes, bruises and bumps along her way until she found her body clashing against one that felt familiar to her. alarm attacked at her nervous system, waist contorting until she found herself within his arms amongst the mayhem, fingertips clutching desperately onto his chain mail. thin brows knitted themselves together, anguish crashing upon her features as she looked at him with a desperation, hues quickly torn away to whatever direction the painful grunt of a soldier had come from. ��“robb, i ... i don’t understand.”  ocean pools that were stirring a storm looked down toward the armour he was wearing, a realisation dawning upon her that he was leaving. fingers tightened, the imprints of metal indenting within her fingers as she lightly shook her head, the men around frantically fleeing, paying no mind to the two stood in the midst of the wreckage.  “they ... they said that renly was dead.” 

[beforethesummer]

@blodistridi from x

           The fencer’s eyes brightened as Myriam’s lips pulled into a pout, reaching out to lightly tap her chin with a knuckle.  A beautiful woman, with a good mind and a willingness to speak.  There were other women he had paid, who refused to engage him no matter how many times he came.  Good women, of course, but he eventually bade them farewell.

           In this stinking, hot city, where vipers and poison sat at every corner, there was one woman he came to regularly, and it was she.  And after a successful lesson with Lord Stark’s daughter, it was a relief to speak with a woman he did not need to instruct.

           “My apologies, my dear Myriam.  Time simply got away from me, but I’d no intention to leave bereft of my attentions so long,” he apologized, though his serious expression and tone was undermined somewhat by the way his eyes danced.  He lifted her hand from where she had taken his, and kissed the palm delicately as he followed her, steps light and silent and quick as he kept pace.  if it were not for the woman he followed, most likely wouldn’t have noticed him; he preferred it thusly.

[theeldestsun]

@blodistridi /

He had managed to sleep most of the night and day away. And when he woke and felt his own brow, he noticed that his fever had more or less faded. Though the cough remained. He saw the sun through the window and heard the rumbling activity of a bustling castle. He listened as a woman was shouting a few names, calling for some chickens. He was lulled by the rhythmic clangs of the blacksmith at his forge. The sound of the horses in the courtyard and in the stables --  Gods all this almost reminded him of home.

But he wasn’t home. He was far away. 

He eventually pushed himself up to get out of bed. It wasn’t as cold as it was last night when he had wandered into the Godswood. He remembered little of what he had said to Ned Stark there, and he hoped that he had said nothing that he would regret today. 

Another coughing fit took him as he got to his feet. 

He tested the door, and found it unlocked -- as it had been last night. He was glad. But before he ventured out, he decided it best to first wash his face and dress. His captors were generous enough to provide both a washing bowl and a chest of wool and fur coats. When he was done, his stomach reminded him of his hunger. He felt well enough to feel an appetite -- which was good. The coughs finally left him too, if only for a moment. 

It was then did the door open --

[strengthanddevotion]

@blodistridi

A moment to contemplate the statement, before Lyarra sighed slightly. “Everyone is allowed to be scared sometimes, dear girl,” she informed her daughter simply. “And marriage… is not the easiest concept to come to terms with if you find yourself adverse to it.” She had been luckier in that regard. Lyarra had not looked for marriage, but Rickard had found her, and she had gone into the institution happily enough. Lyanna on the other hand… “I heard your father tell the boys once that you can only be brave when you are afraid, after all,” she explained. “My advice, however? Do not be afraid to be afraid, but don’t let it show to anyone else.”

Lyanna sighs solemnly, looking up at her mother from the needlework in her lap. She hated needlework, something few could believe because she was quite gifted at it. “I-It’s not... well it is marriage I’m afraid of.” She admits quietly. “But I don’t want to marry him.” Gone are the days of her childish crush on Robert Baratheon. She wasn’t an 8 year old anymore, she knew he whored often and already had a base born girl - one he’d had the audacity to bring with him to Winterfell, the girl and her nurse had been put up in an inn in Winterstown. “I-I want to be brave, and I want to be a good daughter. I have tried to be a good daughter, and I’ll try to be a good wife but - but I’ll be miserable.” 

[win-cr-die]

a starter for ROBB STARK ( @blodistridi ). 

                              the young wolf, they called him … and yet, that title did not live up to everything that he possessed. the oldest boy of late eddard stark held almost every attribute that his father had. there was a confidence that floated around his entire aura, like one hundred fireflies begging to ignite their tales and light him for the glory that he was. the way in which his tongue spoke, a northern symphony dancing off of each and every flicker it gave. his dark chocolate hues were unforgettable too and the way they basked over renly and her, as they sat upon a heighted stage in receiving him upon his arrival to the stormlands. most men refused to even turn their glance towards the rose, afraid of what the stag might have done had his wife being looked over by another man … but the truth was, renly did not care. and robb seemed to be unafraid of any consequences as kind hues of chestnut fell over her. hours had passed since they first met, since they had been surrounded by every man ( and woman ) sworn to protect renly baratheon. though there was something within margaery that compelled her to seek the young wolf. it was a drive, an IMPULSE that she could not shake and before she knew it, feet were carrying themselves through trenches as the signature blue of her dress became tainted by mud and greenery –– though she did not. all she knew, was that she had to find him and she would not stop until she did. it is for your king, the word played over in her head as though she NEEDED an excuse to go and search for robb. it was true –– encouraging any form of alliance would be good for their army and with two people holding the same objective in defeating the lannister’s. a delicate hand brushed against the silk of his tent walls, slowly but surely peering around the corner to check that she had not been intruding on anything and once she realised that the king in the north was sat at his table –– eyes glazed over scrolls and battlement pieces, the young rose allowed a smile to curve to her lips. petals had transformed into a crescent, sapphire hues glimmering like a starry night into the candle lit tent as she stood patiently awaiting by the makeshift door cut into material.

��your grace, i’m sorry to interrupt you ––“ your grace. the words almost felt FOREIGN rolling off of her own tongue and spilling from cherry blossom pinks. that was what she was used to other people calling her and here she was, approaching the king in the north as though she was some low born who wanted his attention. margaery tyrell however, was not a low born. she was a beauty that most men in westeros yearned to be with, whether they were peasants or from higher families. what house didn’t want an allegiance with a powerful house, that had a beautiful mare, ready for marriage ?? she truly was a sight to behold and she knew that. she even knew how to use it to her advantage and what position to stand in as men passed, though here she was ... presenting herself in no such way, other than a concern behind ocean orbs. she didn’t need to. margaery was unsure if she was alone in the way she felt but she could feel a  T E N S I O N  between them both. it was in the way that even when she glanced across to the greenery that lay miles ahead, she could feel his chocolates pressed against her. and now, she was finally speaking to him alone ... his mother was nowhere to be seen, nor renly, nor loras. seven hells, they were probably both together in her absence and there was something strangely comforting about that, knowing that nobody would be looking for her or concerned for her whereabouts. “–– i was hoping that we could have a moment. i wanted to apologise to you for all of the cruel things that the lannister family have done to you. together, we will win this war and your sisters will be safely with you again. i cannot fathom what my brothers would do if i were being held in a strange city. i’d like to think that they would be as brave and noble as you.”

[zcldrizes-a]

⋰⊰ dragon and wolf. // @blodistridi

A DRAGON IN THE SNOW. Has anything ever felt more out of place than she does now, standing in the midst of a keep she’s never seen before, and by the gods, it’s colder than she thought she ever could be. Snow all around, glistening and falling even in the silver of braided locks, and even the thickness of furs and the fire laced within her veins aren’t enough to keep her from shivering, until guided within walls to meet more of a family who have every reason to hate her.

None, however, scare her quite as much as the woman who lost the most by her father’s hand.

She's no fool - she knows she's not welcome here. But respect mandates the manner in which she speaks, calmly at first. "Your reputation proceeds you, my Lady. It is an honor to meet you." There's a linger of memories here, from a time long before she can remember, a reminder that the wolves have felt the burn of dragonfire before, by a man who she’s been assured was no dragon and all the more beast than her children ever have been, and the next words follow without hesitation. "I would not blame you for not trusting my presence here. My family have committed...atrocities beyond compare to those you love the most. I can only hope with time you will see - I am not my father."

[naiiadi-blog]

a starter for @blodistridi (amerei) 

           “ i am so frightened, amerei. “ it’s little more than a whisper in the empty chamber, but roslin does not know when - - or if - - some half-sisters shall come storming in, demanding to “help” in one way or another. and while she is sure she knows why her father thought it wise (or, perhaps, amusing) to send amerei to help her, it is not - - is not only - - the wedding night of which she speaks. “my heart is beating so....like a frightened bird. i...” the words will not come. they stick in her throat, along with the tears already welling in her eyes. “how am i to do this?”  

[ashccra]

wineinthewidow   Cersei: no jon is a miracle baby from myself and the beautiful Ashara. Science is the new trend.

blodistridi   lyarra: no he’s right. i know this because ned’s too much of a loser to get laid.

I’M HOWLING

[wolfqueennamedstark]

can we agree sansa inherited her cold-ass stare from her grandmother? iconic.

random headcanons || @blodistridi

Oh you bet this is a patented Lyarra Stark cold stare. 

[deltiitnu-archive]

"I know that he means well, but I can’t believe Jon swore fealty without consulting anyone. I can’t speak to Arya because I know that she will take Jon's side over mine, and I can't speak to Bran about it because he doesn't care. Sometimes I feel like although I am at home, I'm as alone as I was in King's Landing."

starter for @blodistridi

[serbrienneoftarth]

@blodistridi liked for a pregnancy starter

“The snow is melting already, but I expect the babe to make an appearance before the spring will.” She hadn’t realised for some time, not until it was undeniable and so obvious that even she couldn’t think it anything else. “I haven’t told my father yet. But it’s the only thing he’s ever wanted from me really, an heir. I imagine he’ll accept this babe gladly enough, bastard or not. ”

[fullcfterrors]

continued from HERE with @blodistridi​.

                       there was something about being here by his side, consuming wine and sharing stories about what fortune ( or lack of ) their lives had brought them that caused a smile to bloom across undeserving petals. family –– it was a huge part of both their lives and why they carried the level of honour that they did. robb went to war in a bid to take revenge for his father  ;   to bring the lannister family to justice and more importantly, the save his sisters. margaery on the other hand, had only ever gone forward with this betrayal because of everything that her grandmother taught her as she was a young girl growing up. it felt as though she had almost been raised to become the queen of the seven kingdoms, when the time was right. it was what the lady olenna had instilled upon her from an early age –– teaching her how to be a lady and more so, teaching her how to be loved. 

azures twinkled at his comment directed towards her, where he joked about wise wives and husbands taking counsel from the men that they were married to and all she could do was nod forward in a gesture as though to praise him for his quick wit. that was one thing that the young rose had noticed within him almost immediately. she had always thought that northern men were supposed to be miserable ; their personalities stolen away from the cold weather that they lived in, though perhaps the stormlands were doing the king in the north some good. lips found themselves contorting around the silver of her goblet … vermillion liquid trailing down her throat like a controlled arrow after being fired by an archer, yet margaery tyrell refused to be hit by cupid. she could feel herself growing mesmerised by those tully blues he possessed and that was enough for her. love was not something she needed  ;   not when she was already sworn to renly. his wife by law. 

“i had never met my grandfather either, if it is any consolation. look at us. two beings, controlled by the politics of the rest of the world –– without a damned chance at living the lives we would like to lead. one day, you shall return home. the war will be over, you will have won and you will be reunited with your family. renly will be sat upon his rightful throne, the lannister family out of power and his delirious brother set aside.” as her words left her lips, the goblet which was carefully confined between her fingertips lifted into the air, almost as a toast to the both of them and bringing their families together. they may not have been bound by blood but it was as though margaery had suggested earlier on … whilst ned stark had pledged his belief to stannis, it was still the baratheon family that he had sworn himself too. olenna was not one to push aside her granddaughters’ political thoughts and if she saw the opportunity to gain another ally, then she would push for it. bringing renly baratheon together with the tyrell family and now the stark family, would be a wise choice that would only strengthen them against the lannister’s. whilst her father held a grudge against dorne, if they were able to allege with the martell family too –– the lannister family would be eradicated within moments of a siege. 

and in that moment, margaery had sworn herself to helping robb stark –– for benefiting his cause only strengthened hers.

[beforethesummer]

we ought to show these amateur young people how it's done

“Well my dear, if they haven’t worked out that we’ve fucked on damn near every surface in Winterfell by now, they never will.”

[thencrtherngirls]

Lyarra and Sansa watching everyone leave. “From now on, Winterfell is for bad bitches only. Agreed?”

love the grandma always @blodistridi // lyarrafor —> sansa

                             “ Only the baddest bitches. We got this. ”

[strengthanddevotion]

@blodistridi liked for Benjen 

It was very late when Benjen and his horse thundered into the yard at Winterfell, well past midnight. He’d ridden hard all day to make the last stretch of the journey in one day instead of two - making it in one would put him here in time for Arya’s birthday. He dismounts and leads the horse through the empty yard into the stable. He hadn’t expected much of a welcome, his nieces and nephews were a sleep - likely his brother and Catelyn were too, they hadn’t expected him until tomorrow evening. He’d stretch out in the hayloft for a few hours rest tonight and surprise them all in the morning. 

“There you go.” He murmurs, heaving the saddle off his horse and letting the horse into the stall to drink. “You did well today my old friend.” He pats the horse’s neck and ducks out of the stall. He expects it to be empty, but there in the doorway silhouetted in the light of the moon reflecting off the snow is a female figure. 

“Mother.” The grin spreads across his face and he rushes to hug her. “I thought you’d be asleep.” 

[mcssagcinabottlc]

. // @blodistridi  Liked for a s8 show based started.

He had been raised to think of her kind as nothing but savages, the threat beyond the wall, but watching the girl now with her son, Daryn can’t help but think how wrong these teachings had truly been. the true danger was far worse than any nightmare could conjure. Uncertainty still clouded him from time to time, but the past weeks he had broken bread && trained with these wildlings, they weren't so different from Northern men.  “My Lady.” He knew this title might mean little to her, but Daryn had been raised to be respectful. Mind absent as his hands twiddled with the material they carried. Extra blankets, they would do little to keep out the cold the OTHERS brought, but they may ease some minds all the same. “ Please take these, for your boy....&& the other children.”