#scarredhound

[jonquildove]

she and sandor are continuing to be at university. he had been singing on his guitar of the desperation he feared, and the trauma he faced of his brother burning his face. as well as being the guard of joffrey for a long time -- a boy king in westeros. it was in england, a grand cathedralic kingdom, of the royal family, the baratheons.

he sings now of her pain and suffering she endured, she in university, under the guise of alayne, no-one knowing who she was, the wolf whom escaped from king's landing. she coming with him while holding her straw doll of porcelain face, as it seemed they were not going to prevail in the battle of blackwater. he was not very good at poetry, nor really singing, yet he speaks gruffly in the microphone. he wearing a warm sweater and holding a yellow flower. it did not do wonders for his burned face, which gregor, his brother had charred the skin in the raging cinders of the fire. he would not have usually sung, yet her gentleness had sparked courage in him to do so.

a paper crown, he begins, remembering seeing her in king's landing for the first time. she had been in a blue dress, holding her dog by the leash. he had thought she beautiful, yet a bit spoiled in her mind clouded by darkness as she breathes through the life she established for herself and breathing through timber walls of winterfell. he had seen her frightened as she sees how cruel he was, how cruel king's landing truly was, as she struggles to survive, eating tea and cake, sometimes poking her tongue out in disdain at servants. he remembers saying how he got burned to her, yet why would he say that to a little girl, he wonders.

[avtvmngrass]

cont. from HERE because how could I not... @scarredhound​

“Yes, and the only one in the world who’d thank you for it is me,” she snaps, sitting herself down beside her brother despite his insistence. Their elder brother may be the worst of the worst, but he remains a knight, and favored by both their liege lord and the crown. “They’d take your head, or worse, send you off to the Rock.”

Not that Casterly Rock was a bad place, but she had a dreadful feeling that without Gregor, Lord Tywin would have need to replace his favored attack dog. She did not want that for Sandor. Fretting, Elinor pressed a waterskin into her brother’s lap, making to fidget with the needle and thread she’d retrieved.  It had been terrifying to see him cross blades with Gregor, and while she more than trusted in Sandor’s skill, there had been too many blows aimed to his head- too many that could have been-

Elinor clasped her hands tightly in her lap, mouth set in a fine line. She had screamed, distracted him, he could have died. And then what? How many Cleganes did Gregor need to slaughter? “I know you don’t need help.”

[vuulpecula]

      Nights like these, when the moisture and heat of the day filled the night with thick humidity, always brought them inside to the salvation of a cold beer and airconditioning. The early evening had gone over well enough. Mostly regulars dotted the bar stools, but as eight o’clock pooled into nine the sound of engines down the roadway cut over even the most. The dogs started howling. 

      One by one they entered, shedding their leather jackets with boisterous grunts while calling for the first round. It was an eerie sight, seeing all those canines hanging off the backs of the worn chairs. Fox remained behind the bar while the others who worked there, those deemed tougher, began ferrying out the pitchers. Cleaning the inside of one of the glasses, she watched their pretty, relaxed faces with envy. Vipers ready to bite at the heels of hounds at the first sign of a threat. They received compliments with sneers, never blushed, never found their mouths lacking the right words to say to get them to stop. Unlike Fox who would bashfully nod her head and offer up a weak thank you in a voice too quiet for anyone to pick up the Slavic accent that dripped over the words. The others, her friends and fellow waitresses, nicknamed her Candy for she was too damn sweet and knew how to make everyone smile, but that wasn’t all. Fox knew how to clean a wound with vodka, extract bullets from bone, and stitch up just about every type of scratch, slash, and gash that made it into the backroom of the bar. Returning her attention to the glass, she hoped she would not have to this night. 

      The night continued on with little to no issues, only one patron seemed to be giving them a problem and the women already had a tradition to deal with his sort. ‘Go get sticky, Candy,’ they grinned at her and Fox, feeling rather devilish, aimed to delight. Assholes who didn’t tip would be forced to whether they knew it or not. Pickpocketing, another of her laundry list of skills she could not put on her resume. What she found in the pocket of the man however was not a wallet, nor a wad of cash or the thin edge of a card. No, inside his pocket she extracted a thin column of cold metal. All her blood sank into her feet, though she fixed the man with a pretty smile as she took away his empty glass to hide her real reason for getting close. Without stopping she dropped off the empty glass and grabbed up another pitcher. The others watched with worried curiosity as Fox made her way between tables, ignoring touches and jeers until she was taking a seat before the leader himself. A gruff, fearsome-looking man his men called The Hound. Firearms were prohibited within the establishment, ( too many volatile personalities all packed together ), so the silencer could only mean one thing. It was not hard to put the pieces together -- who else within the four walls was notorious enough to deserve an assassination attempt? 

      Scared fingers shaking as she set down the pitcher, sloshing beer across the table. Fox kept her eyes low, her back to the rude stranger with the gun to hide the item she placed atop the wasted beer. “Look at me, do not look at him.” She knew her straight shot across the room had not gone unnoticed and if he was any degree of paranoid, the stranger would be sweating. “I think that man is here to kill you and I do not know if he is alone.” 

@scarredhound​ ❤’d for a starter.

[snowmcid]

@scarredhound  “I admit it, you are better than I am.”

----------- Princess Bride Starter Sentences || Always accepting tbh

“I am, but you are far better with a sword than I.” she replied from his lap, the linen of his undertunic the only barrier between herself and the sweltering heat of her chambers. Hair undone and the mask of Queen put away with her gown, Sansa traced the hair on his chest, pale eyes taking him in. Who would have thought that Sandor Clegane would be perched against her headboard, his back pressed to the wood and she would be straddling his hips as if it were the most comfortable throne in the world. 

She liked being here with him - both of them unencumbered, free.  

“We each have our talents, but we compliment each other nicely I think.” she smiled, leaning in to kiss him. “Besides, you’d hate to be stuck in those meetings.” 

[thesellsword]

@scarredhound: So NOW we know who is responsible for the damn cup

tell dan and david. . . i want them to know. . .

IT WAS ME.

[podstye]

When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the squad gets back together 

[thencrtherngirls]

@scarredhound replied to your post “yeah, so, like, sansa still needs to get laid. since this is all...”

Sandor literally: *volunteers as tribute*

sansa voice: you’re the one riding in the oppoSITE DIRECTION. D: WITH MY S I S T E R.

[notxrose-blog]

He Won’t Bite

@scarredhound

Ros was in the middle of turning down her bed when Lillibet came scarpering into her room. She arched an amused eyebrow at the younger girl. “In this brothel we knock,” She chastised playfully.

“Apologies, mistress, but there’s a man- I mean, a patron requesting your presence immediately,” Ros remembered stumbling over the correct terminology herself when she first started working but it was easy enough to remember; every man liked to have his ego stroked with titles like ‘patron’ ‘Ser’ and ‘Lord’ and in this establishment, it didn’t matter if you hadn’t earned it, so long as you could pay for it.

“Well, I won’t be much use to him immediately until my bed is made for our appointment. Give me a hand, Lil,” Between the two of them, the bed was made to Petyr’s strict standards in half the time and Ros sent Lillibet to tell the gentleman she’d be with him shortly. After which Ros stepped out of her gown and into something that was less down and more garment. It had a skirt which rose to just shy of her bosom but was noticeably lacking a bodice, which was replaced by a fine veil of gauzy silk. She undid her braids as they were a day old and looked as such but didn’t redo them as Lillibet had said it was an urgent matter. Finally Ros lit some incense so the room would be atmospherically smoky and rich when she returned. All this effort Ros would soon wish she’d avoided for when she walked into the main foyer she was met with a figure that made her blanch near swooning still she forced a professional smile. “Sorry to keep you waiting, Ser. I hope you find I was worth the wait,” She If The Hound was here it was almost certainly on the King’s orders and Ros would sooner impale herself on one of Petyr’s fine candelabra which would take much effort and discomfort.

[gentlemind]

I never said that. When have I ever said that?

@scarredhound  /  m.

                            an eyebrow is raised then, shaking her head just a little in disbelief.  ❛  is that a serious question  ?❜  she can’t help but huff in amusement, attempts to hide a small grin though.   ❛  love, you say that all the time. i’ve heard you say it just yesterday. and if you’re being honest with yourself, i’m sure you can admit that you say it a lot.  ❜

[aloneinmycage]

@scarredhound

What the hell am I seeing all over my dash?? xD

[jonquildove]

sansa is with her boyfriend, sandor, she in guise as alayne and he as sammy. they had escaped from the red keep, and were singing songs in a room at university, they breathing through the brick and mortar. in all this desperation, i fear, sandor sings, in a hoarse husky voice, he coughing violently. he is singing about his pain and trauma, singing about when his brother gregor had burned his face, now a knight of the damned ; resurrected by qyburn. he was a knight whom cersei was saying he was a fighter in the tourney, saying for him to kill tyrion and then she didn’t. she remembered liking tyrion at splashes of sundreams though, saying he was funny, always been funny. she had laughed with him as they spoke about renly and stannis fighting each other, a moment where tyrion liked her.

alayne, who is by his side, is holding a purple bluish flower, she eating a flower cake from their high tea brought to the room. her mind was snow falling around her, the white snowflakes ❄️ sparkling. she thought it a pure world and she didn’t belong there. nightmares haunted her, of a man smiling wickedly as he crouched on a building with wings, walder frey saying heh-heh-heh, and pushing a wolf off the building. he also mimicked the howling of a wolf, amused he would call himself the young wolf, he saying that to roose. yet he liked the wolf's reputation, wishing he did not betray him, otherwise he would think it interesting for robb and his army to defeat the lannister. that was robb, she knew, that the old man pushed off. she says this to sandor, he having scared her when they first met, when he talked about the fire burning his face, and threatening her not to tell.

[trickstercaptain-archive]

I'm sending you my URL because I'm trasshhhhh

send me a url for positivity!

@scarredhound

        noooo you’re not, legit the only sandor i ever need in my life and on my dash tbh so clearly in everything you write, but you have such a fascinating insight into his character that I can’t help but stop in my dash-scrolling to read your meta whenever I see it, because I always love hearing what you have to say about his character or his motivations or what makes him tick. you’re such a delight to have on my dash okay and to see your reply to our thread the other day did make me go !!!!!! in excitement ngl

[zcldrizes-a]

» @scarredhound

IT WAS LATE. Perhaps too late for the young Q u e e n to be roaming around in the midst of the darkness, but perhaps it was the only comfort from the thoughts seeming to consume deep within. There was nothing to save her from the late night visions of her child as he screamed for his mother, nor the sight of the Northern male falling into the depths of the ice, and knowing there was nothing she could do but run, and leave them both behind – fleeing to save her own life, and the lives of the few clinging to her mount even as he wept for the brother he’d lost.

If I look back, I am lost.

Even now, the bustle beneath deck of the few so desperately trying to keep the male clutching to life had her tightening her grasp on the railings of the ship, gaze focused out onto the dark waters before them, and the wings beating through fog far above the ship. Realising then that she was not alone, her voice was soft, calling gently.

“And here I thought I was the only one out this late.”

[thesellsword]

Listen, you dick, clean your fuckin' pubes out of the shower when you're done.

listen, pisshead | @scarredhound

         cLeAn ThE pUbEs

[clevrest]

s.c. for @scarredhound​  // accepting *!

                 a pale hand toys with the knife in hand with unparalleled dexterity. the silver of the blade flshes in the dimly lit room, reflecting the flames’ light around in spontaneous flashes. it is still light enough for the two to see each other clealry enough to detect the hesitation and confusion in each face. but here at the wall, the distinctions of house loyalties and past wounds seem so far away.  ‘ so what brought about the change of heart? ’  his tone is not accusatory; he never held a bias against the man. but he certainly never expected him to step forward for his bastard brother.

[podstye]

Yes, hi. Do you have a second to spare for our lord and savior: chicken?

“ NO. “