#burnnouts

[travelingthroughworlds]

Captivated by You

@burnnouts

Belle had been a maid for Rumple for a few months now. She thought she was used to unusual occurrences but not all of them. She was washing and hanging laundry to dry when she saw something - no someone amongst the lines of linen. She peered through the clothes before approaching him. “Hello, are you here for an appointment?” She asked curiously.

[maggicktouched]

@burnnouts

The Northmen did not deny him entry. He was certain they wanted to---with the ground encrusted with frost and monsters pulling children from their beds under cover of darkness---but he was not a man easily denied. Nor unprepared to be an unexpected guest during a time of peril. Three hundred men accompanied him, over half of them in their bear forms. They came with carriages pulled by hulking, four-legged beasts covered in thick curly fur that each sported an enormous horn on its nose. He had also acquired all manner of horses on his way from the southern portal to Westeros; they'd likely need them during the evacuation process if all went to plan.

He had not filled his carriages with people, but rather with gifts. Food, mostly, but furs and cloth as well. There was some gold, he was a rich man, after all, but what good was gold in the dead of winter? It wouldn't keep a fire burning through the night or fill a belly if there was nothing left in the stores. He had brought enough food to feed both his men and the mortals for a couple of weeks. Between his own stores and theirs, surely they'd make it back to the gateway without anyone going hungry. He detested the thought of anyone laying down their head without a full stomach.

Without an excuse to deny him, and potentially frightened by the large party of armored bears, the Lady of Winterfell had opened up their doors to him. She was quite pretty---and quite displeased by his lingering presence within her castle walls. But their king had gone to some Wall, and Karl would not leave until they spoke man to man. Maybe he'd give him a proper brawl like a real king, or maybe they'd just talk. All that mattered, at the end of the day, was getting him and as many people as he could convince, to come with them and make a new home in the heartlands of Bygghlaða.

Karl was sitting in the square of the town just outside the city walls, carving tiny wooden animals and handing them to children brave enough to approach him when a young man came to inform him that the King had returned and would see him. He grinned, raising up to his full height, and brushing the snow from the fur of his cloak. The younger man was not a child, but standing side by side with the Bear King, he almost looked like one.

As the guards pulled open the doors to the Great Hall, he could see a twinge of fear on their faces. Finally, this mysterious man from gods only know where would reveal his true intentions, and even if he hadn't been quarrelsome thus far, that didn't mean he would not be when everything was brought to light.

Karl pretended not to see. He strolled into the courtroom with his head high and shoulders squared, four of his own men following at his heel, and when he saw the young king upon his throne, his smile only broadened. A visible shock passed over the faces of his men as Karl, their proud king who was a great leader and proven warrior, bent his knee and bowed to a child on a stone chair. After a moment of stunned silence, they followed his lead, but Karl's humility was not long lasting. He stood a second later and spoke to the young king in a tone like he was greeting an old friend.

"You are King Robb! At last! At last! We meet. I am honored." He called in a booming voice that echoed in the thin air. He placed a hand on his chest. "I am Karl Pallson, King of Bears. For you, I have come great distance. I bring gifts---food and wine and good fur. Come! Bring the wine! I make it myself."

He motioned to one of the men behind them, who darted back out of the Great Hall.

"We can sit?" He asked, walking over to pull a chair from a table anyway. It creaked under his weight. "I will sit. You are handsome king. That was true. A pretty man. You can fight, yes? Bears we fight as greeting. No swords, no claws, no armor. Just men. Fists. We can fight, handsome king. Or we talk. Both ways I am happy."

[magikborn]

"MERlin!" Arthur had tried his best to contain his anger. Really tried but his best sword somehow had a god awful chip in the metal and that was not from him practicing. It looked more like someone swung it at the stone walls than the dummies he took a punch at. "Please tell me how this happened?"The prince could be a prat, but he liked this sword. It wasn't just any sword either. It was a gift from a priestess he had been learning from and behind his father's back.

@burnnouts

[myrc3lla-a]

@burnnouts asked: Court games aren't fair. They don't judge men by their worth, and they aren't about what's just. (from Robb)

"If   they   are   not   fair   to   men,   imagine   how   it   is   to   women,   Your   Grace."   Myrcella   speaks   in   turn.   Court   games   are   never   indeed   about   what   is   just   or   right,   what   feels   as   the   right   thing   to   do.   "Everyone's   idea   of   honor   is   different   and   leads   to   disagreements.   But   as   a   woman,   I'm   not   meant   to   have   an   opinion.   I   was   meant   to   marry   a   stranger,   father   was   meant   to   do   that   but   he   died   before   he   could."   And   perhaps   her   father   would've   stopped   her   uncle   Tyrion   plan   to   send   her   to   Dorne   and   marry   her   to   someone   at   court.

  "I   told   him   once   I   wanted   to   marry   you   when   we   visited   the   North   and   he   laughed.   Mother   was   not   pleased."   But   her   father   always   wanted   a   Baratheon-Stark   union,   because   of   his   own   one   never   coming   to   term,   and   to   honor   the   old   friendship.   "God   forbid   I   am   in   a   room   without   a   man,   I   would   be   called   a   wanton   woman.   Or   ruined.   They   are   not   fair,   but   you   simply   need   to   learn   how   to   play   it.   Like   chess."

[lcstinthewoods]

@burnnouts asked: ❝ i will not go back without doing what i came for, no matter how hopeless it may seem. ❞ (from Robb to Sansa)

"Even if it gets you killed?" Sansa retorted back incredulously. She wouldn't be able to live with herself if she lost her brother, too.

[reinerose]

(⁠✿⁠ ⁠*✿⁠°)⁠/⁠～⁠♡ heart for a starter from margaery ft. @burnnouts

"I   knew   Sansa   when   she   was   at   the   Keep.   I   believe   I   considered   her   a   friend.   As   much   as   one   can   have   friends   in   that   place."   The   Thrice   wed   woman   speaks   with   ease.   She   remembers   how   relieved   the   king's   sister   had   been   when   the   news   she   no   longer   was   betrothed   to   Joffrey   reach   her.   Margaery   would've   carried   that   burden,   but   apparently,   the   Gods   had   other   plans   for   her.   After   this   third   wedding,   and   failed   marriage,   she   is   at   a   loss.   "Unfortunately,   she   escaped   when   Tyrion   was   captured.

  No   news   of   her   but   I   presume   she   might   be   with   Littlefinger.   Not   that   is   pure   safety   but   better   him   than   others.   And   she   is   smart."   She   had   grown   to   become   smarter   through   her   time   there.   Hopefully,   Sansa   is   alive   and   well   somewhere   to   reunite   with   her   brother.   She   too   reunited   with   a   brother   though   the   other,   her   favorite,   her   companion,   had   been   loss   to   the   wildfire.  

"Most   think   of   me   dead   still,   Your   Grace.   I   would   rather   have   it   that   way.   It's   best   Cersei   thinks   her   plan   worked   until   it's   time.   My   brother   is   lord   now,   and   he   will   join   the   North   against   the   Lannisters,   when   the   time   is   right."   Her   brother   Garlan   had   joined   her   in   this   visit,   a   promise   she   would   bring   the   best   the   Reach   has   to   offer   to   the   King   in   the   North.   

[lcveblossomed]

These parties had never been Baela's favorite thing in fact she hated them. Having to ditch her riding leathers and knives for frilly dresses and ridiculous hairstyles. She had grumbled the entire time Rhaena had done her hair though it made Rhaena happy. How she was going to manage to deal with a week of these festivities was beyond her. She thinks if one more older woman comes up to her talking about how sweet she looks how womanly she looks she'll get sick.

She was trying her best to avoid everyone so she was sulking in a corner of the room watching the others dance. When Robb walks up she shoots him a glare. "If you are here to ask for a dance you can turn around now." She warns as she is in no mood to do that. She had already done enough by being here and being in the stupid dress she refused to dance.

@burnnouts // starter call

[rodulv]

❦ heart this post for a starter from sansa. ft. @burnnouts robb.

"You   do   not   need   to   worry   about   me   anymore,   brother.   I   am   safe   now."   Winterfell   might   not   be   in   their   hands   at   the   moment   but   being   around   one   of   her   siblings   is   enough   comfort   for   her   to   relax.   How   she   wished   Lady   was   alive,   just   as   Grey   Wind   stands   there   and   is   a   comfort   of   it's   own.  

Sansa   presses   a   hand   into   his   furr,   passing   on   her   thoughts,   perhaps   he   could   find   her   a   pup   for   her   to   train,   to   show   she   is   a   Stark   once   again,   that   she   did   not   betray   her   family   because   she   wished.   "I   know   nothing   of   war   myself   but   I   have   seen   the   way   the   Lannisters   think,   Robb.   Do   not   trust   the   Freys.   We   must   go   North."   no   one   would   dare   do   North   in   this   weather,   with   winter   approaching,   they   could   reagroup   and   rethink   strategies.   "Jon   is   at   the   Wall.   Tell   him   to   come   home."

[corruptedforce]

@burnnouts liked for a AOTC Era starter

Anakin still was nervous around Padme, even after spending all the way to Varykino, traveling like refugees. Then well, the whole kiss thing had happened on the balcony. The thing was he was not good around women, especially ones that he liked. She was the only one he had thought about, for so many years and kissing her for even the briefest moments, it was tortuous.

Now the next day, he was supposed to act normal. They were supposed to stay hidden, so it was not like they could really go anywhere big or anything like that. Already having stumbled over his words at breakfast, he saw her on the balcony later that morning and approached her.

"You know, you may have spoken to countless politics all over the galaxy, but I can guarantee that none of them come close to the rambling I've told you, in the last day. I mean, I doubt anyone else has started talking about sand."

[f4rgd]

@burnnouts : you've gained my respect (from Robb Stark)

The smith was not so stupid as to pass up potential alliances whether they be through his work or through friendship, and gaining the attention of Robb Stark had been no small feat - his respect even more so. It wasn't often he found himself at a loss for words, he was well trained in small talk and keeping somebody engaged but when he parted his lips to speak words seemed to fail him - all but two.

" Thank you. " He offered the other man a smile and a small nod of his head. " If that is the case then - " It felt bold, he felt bold to even be asking when he was so used to keeping to himself. " - perhaps I could buy you a drink? It is what I planned to do anyway. "

[mvrcellas]

@burnnouts said ❛ do you ever wonder what it would be like if things were different between us? ❜ (from Robb)

it was a simple question with a simple answer, yet the stark man had myrcella furrowing her delicate brow and pausing for maybe a touch longer than she should have. yes was the answer. of COURSE she did. constantly, actually -- but he didn't have to know every single thought that entered her brain. it was better for all of them this way. "on occasion," came her half truth, eyes not meeting his in fear of him seeing right through her.

"although i believe we'll drive ourselves mad if we continue down that path. our thoughts might snowball until are we're left with are wishes and hopes which might never come to fruition. i do not believe we can change the past." her soft voice echoed thoughts of her uncles who constantly drove forth the idea of living in the PRESENT. nothing could change, so why dwell upon it? her heart still ached though, despite the cold logic she attempted to push forward. "what do you think?" she finally found herself asking. curiosity won out. "what would things be like?"

[starwrittenfates]

@burnnouts said: “No one would hurt you again, or I’d kill them.” (From Yennefer to Ciri)

Ciri feels her heart warm at Yennefer's words. She is grateful to her mother and all she has done for her. There is no doubt that anyone who came across the sorceress and got on her bad side would pay dearly, and yet---Ciri can't help but worry about her and Geralt in return. She couldn't bear losing another person to death, and at one point, Ciri thought she almost had with parents.

This causes Ciri to take her into a hug. "I could say the same to you too. I don't--I don't want to lose you. You're my mother...my family."

[maggicktouched]

@burnnouts

It wasn't that she'd never fancied men in all her life. She'd been more open with her passions for women, perhaps it'd just been easier, but she was not impervious to the charms of handsome men. In fact, after first coming to Westeros, she'd quickly discovered that---for the most part---men were her only option. It was taboo for women or men to take people of the same gender into their bed, and not taboo in the casual way that other forms of debauchery were viewed. A man could still frequent a brothel or pull a tavern wench into his lap and kiss her in plain view. His brothers would likely cheer him on as well, even if he had no intention of taking that woman as his wife. Sex outside of marriage was something forbidden in the broad light of day and embraced under cover of night. Passions between men and men, or likewise women and women, were not taken so lightly. Perhaps major cities offered more exotic options in the filthiest brothels, but Beck avoided those cities like the plague.

Her only option was men, it seemed. Or her hand. The more Westerosi men she met, the more she chose her hand. Even the prettiest among them usually had a vile attitude underneath and not an ounce of skill. They had a whole slew of beliefs about women, and about her, that she did not appreciate.

Theon Greyjoy might have been the worst of them all. He spent every night he could in brothels, and threw slanderous insults at women who rejected him and his ego. He had a fragile pride, a wandering eye, and a wagging tongue.

And he thought he was better than her.

She didn't object as he gripped her wrist harsh enough to make it blossom with a bruise. In fact, there was a great deal of amusement on her face as he dragged her through the camp. Soldiers looked up at the pair marching toward the lord's tent, but didn't dare interfere with the strange sight. Theon was red with anger, and she had a grin tugging at the ends of her lips.

The guards at the mouth of Robb's tent barely had time to announce them before Theon burst through the canvas door and hauled her into the middle of the room.

His mouth opened and closed, teeth gnashing, shaking her arm in his vice grip. After a few minutes, he dared to actually try and speak, but the only sound that left his mouth was the piercing squeal of a sow. Somehow, he managed to grip her wrist even tighter.

Beck let out a dull grunt of displeasure, "Your friend is very angry."

Again, Theon tried to speak, and oinked and squealed like a pig. His free hand clenched into a fist on his side, and then he shoved her forward into the room, nearly pitching her onto the floor. She caught herself on a table and rolled her eyes as she massaged her battered wrist.

Theon stepped between her and Robb, gesturing furiously. When Beck flicked a strand of hair over her shoulder and perched on the table without a care, she thought he might actually collapse from rage. Well, she was thoroughly humiliating him. It made sense.

Somehow, he composed himself, stomping over to the table and jerking a quill and parchment up. For a moment he frantically scribbled, and then he thrust the piece of paper in her face. Beck, who couldn't read a single word even in her own tongue, only shrugged, so he went back to writing. This time he held the parchment up to rob.

In large, hastily scrawled letters it said "FIX ME! And right above that he'd quickly scribbled. "MAKE HER".

[magikborn]

Obi Wan wasn't a stranger to Naboo or its politics. Why he wasn't surprised when he was posted on Padmé Amidala protection detail. The two had been great friends throughout the years, and he had a fondest for the senator. Entering in her chambers, he saw C3PO and greeted him along with Jar Jar Binks who was just leaving. Going into the sitting room, he stayed standing until he heard her familiar voice call his name. "Senator. I hope my presence here is not too distracting."

@burnnouts

[myrc3lla-a]

@burnnouts asked: “I didn’t anticipate how much strife my arrival would cause." (from Robb)

"The   knights   fear   you,   Your   Grace."   Myrcella   is   kind   enough   to   use   the   proper   titles,   despite   being   told   plenty   of   times   by   many   in   her   family   that   Robb   Stark   has   no   right   to   a   throne.   He   was   chosen   king   and   she   will   respect   that.   "I'm   sure   you   heard   the   tales.   How   you   turn   into   a   wolf   at   night.   And   your   direwolf   eats   your   enemies   bones."   Eyes   fly   shortly   to   the   direwolf   by   his   side.   Mere   pup   the   last   time   she   saw   him   back   in   Winterfell   when   she   was   but   a   child   herself,   now   fully   grown,   or   perhaps   still   growing   and   she   wonders   if   he   was   big   enough   to   be   ridden   like   a   horse.   "Many   fear   what   you   will   do   to   them.   It's   only   fair,   in   war,   I   suppose."  

A   small   shrug   before   eyes   look   back   at   the   man,   once   a   childhood   crush,   he   was   no   longer   that   sweet   boy   that   danced   with   her.   War   made   him   a   man,   Dorne   made   her   a   woman   and   they   were   on   opposite   ends   of   a   war.   "Dornish   spears   are   here   to   defend   me,   Your   Grace.   Princess   Arianne   wishes   for   me   to   sit   on   the   throne,   but   you   have   arrived   before   I   could   decided   if   the   crown   fits."   Myrcella   speaks   in   truth,   she   is   not   in   shackles,   but   in   a   way,   she   is   already   bargaining   in   politics.   "Would   that   upset   you?   Would   you   have   your   wolf   eat   my   head?"

[lcstinthewoods]

&&; @burnnouts liked for a starter from Daenerys.

"What is it exactly that you want from me?"