Brynden sighed for the sixth time in the last ten minutes, rubbing at his brow, and stared down at the dozen or so worlds that spun slow upon their axis. Minutes, hours, days – they slipped between his worn palms and thick fingers. He wondered if Doran was to blame; then again, water moved faster than sand, slipping, sliding, and yet washing away. It would drown and swallow and suffocate so easily, and yet leave, as if it had not been there at all. The oldest and truest of killers.

He rose, hand reaching back with a nonchalance that was layered in irritation, and grappled with the sign of his station. The trident was cool in the roughness of his hand, a surge of warmth spreading up his wrist as he made his way down from the throne. He needed a break, a momentary peace, if the God of Time would allow it. Brynden nearly snorted. He was beholden to no one, yet felt as if the other was against him at all times. Mortals probably felt much the same.

“Summon my niece,” he rumbled to the hall, which hissed with foam and whispered with each crest of the tide, “I’m in need of some good company.”

#AU: Mythical #V: Deep Eyes #motherofwolvcs #;;Favorite Trout ((Catelyn Stark))#((Guess who needs a break from godly duties?))#((This old trout...))

riverrunbrynden

Starter Call!

... Should I have done something special? I mean, I hit 150 and didn’t even notice. So... Yeah. 20 more and I’ll write drabbles for people. That seems fair...

In other news, like for a thing!

#;;Taking a Piss ((OOC Note))#((Need to get back into RP))#((Been doing lots of things lately))#((Stress-stress-stresS))

riverrunbrynden

New verse?

I know, I know, I said I was going to make a "Roaring 20s" AU, and I will! But first, what about Westeros... but the characters are gods? Check out the list below and see if you think there should be changes:

☆Ned - God of winter and death; ruler of the Underworld.

Catelyn - Goddess of family, hearth, and duty.

Arya - Goddess of the Aryan Gate (the gate and the adjoining bridge into the underworld. Think Styx and the River Styx.)

Rickon - God of wilds, rage, and tenacity.

Bran - God of wisdom.

Sansa - Goddess of beauty, cunning, and will.

Robb - God of war, vigor, and strategy.

☆Tywin - Sun god, ruler of the beyond.

Jaime - God of war, power.

Cersei - Goddess of beauty.

Tyrion - God of wine and festivals.

Olenna - Goddess of the harvest, patience.

Margaery - Goddess of fertility, and flowers.

Loras - God of honor and love.

Tormund - God of the hunt.

Bronn - God of fortune and chance.

Brienne - Goddess of justice and retribution.

Edmure - God of charity and good faith.

Brynden - God of rivers.

Lysa - Goddess of schemes and lies.

☆Doran - God of time; ruler of the earth.

Oberyn - God of poisons and vengeance.

Elia - Goddess of twilight, rebirth.

Stannis - God of law and order.

Davos - God of the seas.

Jon - God of paths and protection.

Ygritte - Goddess of fire and passion.

☆Daenerys - Goddess of the sky, ruler of the clouds.

Not all the characters have to be gods, they could be nymphs, demi-gods, or some other, immortal creature, but, you know...

#;;taking a piss ((ooc note))

riverrunbrynden

This wouldn’t stop bugging me after Bryn bluntly said something… NSFW after the cut.

@avaricebled

#;;sellsword of nowhere ((bronn))#;;tales from the river ((drabble))#avaricebled

riverrunbrynden reblogged

viktor-noctis

Yo

I feel like I need to write this somewhere so people won’t think I’ve died again. Okay, so…

About a week ago, I do believe it was around Friday or so, my sis had, well, we don’t know. The doctors didn’t even want to call it a “mini” stroke. Yeah, a stroke. And she’s 26. I had to call the paramedics (and hoo-boy I never want to do that again), and take care of her. She’s fine now! Very fine, 100%. She recovered fast, which is unusual, and made them believe it wasn’t really a stroke.

All the tests showed up fine, saying she didn’t have one. Mum had to come home from out of state, they went to a neurologist, and the doc said it could be MS, a mini stroke, some freak one-time thing, etc. We don’t know.

But right now she’s fine. I’m fine. But I’m not going to lie I had a panic attack while I was stuck at home for 30 min waiting on family to take me to the hospital she was in (there was snow/ice/sleet outside and there’s no way either of our surviving clunkers would have made it, plus my emotional state).

So, you know… I’m okay! Just… tired, and working on other things to destress.

#;;taking a piss ((ooc note))

riverrunbrynden reblogged

longmayshereign-cersei

me at all times

Me to all of my friends and mutuals

#;;taking a piss ((ooc note))

riverrunbrynden

longmayshereign-cersei asked:

🍆

@longmayshereign-cersei

Cat had said to be nice to her. Cat had said he should go help her with her little projects after she got out of rehab. Cat had said this and that; about how it’d be good for him to get out of the pub, meet people. He knew plenty of people… just not many who wouldn’t take the opportunity to knock his teeth out. Not that he’d give them the chance.

He took back a shot of Free City Whiskey, nose twitching, and lips pursing. He dragged out his punishment though, cradling the fire on his tongue, and rubbed his teeth with it. The flame trickled down, robbing his throat of air, until all he breathed was dragon’s smoke. Brynden’s brow furrowed, the burn quenching itself upon his rivers, mellowed and warm. He swallowed finally, wiping the sheen of spittle from his lips, noting he pinkish hue it left on the back of his hand. His lip stung, from the rough drag of he glass, to the whiskey, and the way his tongue - still coated in hell - rubbed at it.

His phone vibrated, loud in the still air of the freshly tumbled Blackfish. Aye, the pub had seen worse nights. It’d survive. And so would he. Brynden wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He reached back, knuckles already bleeding through the gauze he’d wrapped them in. They throbbed as he clenched them, tugging the damned thing out.

The name [Witch Lion] had been changed quite a few times (he still wasn’t entirely sure how she’d attained his number, then blamed it on Cat). From: ‘Woman’, to 'Yellow Banshee’, and 'Corn Husk’, really, he had no idea where that last one came from. Chalked it up to Arya getting ahold of his phone when he didn’t notice.

Brynden swiped, cursing when all he got was a blood smear on the screen, and had to try several times before he wiped his hand on his jeans to clear away the filth. He nearly dropped it into the booze and sweat and blood…

“Fucking-!” Did she have no shame?! He spit and cursed again, trembling with shaky breaths that he sucked through his clenched teeth. Something angry and starving left his throat, a growl, a snarl, a muted grunt. “Damned woman…” he smashed the keys, firing back at her:

[Witch Lion]: If you’re expecting me ta reciprocate lass you’ll be mighty disappointed

His other hand lowered, jaw aching as he noted the prominent bulge on the front of his pants. His cock was disappointed, that was for fucking sure. He felt it twitch, hard fingers gripping it through the harsh seam to squeeze. The temporary agony allowed him to finish-

[Witch Lion]: Next time why don’t ya drop the act while you’re here. Coy doesn’t suit ye anymore…

Brynden tossed his phone onto the bar, still gripping himself, and sneered. He’d rather slice his prick with a broken bottle, then give her the satisfaction….

riverrunbrynden reblogged

nightwingsass3-blog

dc: wait we can’t make another villain harassing Dick Grayson, that could be too much, like you know there’s alreay sth like 10 of them

dc: right we can’t do it

dc: so…

ra’s al ghul: hello timothy

#ra's al ghul #tim drake #cogitater #((innocent whistling))#;;taking a piss ((ooc note))

riverrunbrynden

Annnnnd I found the perfect song for the Roaring 20s! Westeros Verse....

#;;taking a piss ((ooc note))

riverrunbrynden reblogged

wolfqueennamedstark

chibbyresources

Send 🍆 for my muse’s reaction to being sent a very intentional nude Or Send “Ѡ” for my muse’s reaction to being sent accidental nudes.

#;;the laws of my fist ((meme))#((annnnnd))#((we're back to this...))#((scaring and mentally scarring our family members...))

riverrunbrynden

Steam

@longmayshereign-cersei

Family; Cat’s red hair, Lysa on his knee, and Edmure failing at target practice. The rivers ran red, flowing locks and spiraling curls, as bright as their breathless, laughing faces. Cheeks and foreheads dappled the same shade, while their eyes glittered, clearer than the sea. Not so much green, but the deepest, brightest blue.

Duty; to stack and stone and brick. For every banner that fluttered in the breeze, not as crimson as the lions on their mountain, not half so azure as the falcons in their vale, but the white was stark and strange. It made his own sigil stand out amongst the fields, in line with every other, blending into the misty mourn, faded and frayed. But it might as well have been a bonfire in an empty field, that lonely, circling Blackfish.

Honor; Riverrun had never been so empty. He never thought he’d say that after Hoster died. Too many angry years, turned bitter on his tongue, to see his brother – old and grey – with barely a glimmer in his depths. The stones underneath that had made him so hard, digging into heel and sole, cold and unforgiving, had been washed away by sickness and regret. Stale air. Something foul made his nose twitch. He didn’t approach the bed, giving the old cod that last respect, to say nothing and pretend. Hoster had bickered little, a pity in his depths.

“You’ll be alone now, little brother.” Brynden had swallowed the grit in his throat. It tasted like the mud he’d swallowed into his lungs as a lad, the first taste he’d had of their river.

“Pretty sure yer trouts’d have a say about that.” Chewed off between his teeth, syllables meshing where they shouldn’t have. He tried to pretend it was his accent peeking through, as telling as that was already, but it was too quiet at the end, raspy in his throat. Hoster had smiled, in that way that he’d never liked. Like he knew something he bloody didn’t, but there was too much sadness in his clear blue orbs.

“You’re not a fool, Brynden.” Dust between his lips, which looked too ancient and frail in his face. He’d looked at him then, really looked, because at a glance he couldn’t recognize him. There was no denying though, by the weight of the brow, and the cut of his cheeks –

“I’ll take Sansa back or nothin’ at all.” Brynden snarled, ignoring the tightness of his ribs against his lungs, how they ached and seemed to want to splinter. “’Course I suppose that’s not yer right, is it, yer grace?” Worse than before, he could barely recognize the words, his brogue ruining them with a roughness he thought he’d abandoned as a boy. Why had he remembered that? Her eyes were still so green. His thoughts weren’t right – now since he’d seen her again. He’d expected the Old Lion, not a woman grown with wildfire sparking in her eyes.

“Still nothin’ more than a lass,” he growled under his breath, teeth grinding, “haven’ learned a damn thing.” Did she expect him to just hand over the Kingslayer? To an outsider, he appeared righteously furious. How dare his enemy send a woman, Queen or no, to treat? But it could never be so far from the truth. What happened when that green flame met water? Rushing, never-ending, like the rivers of his home? Steam, he realized, hotter than any fire. What color would it be? He hoped it would be black. “We’re done here.”

He turned, ready to duck his head, and exit the tent. Be done with the farce, as he rightfully should be, because he refused to play ‘The Game’ – detested, bullshit, lies – with her.

#AU: Canon #V: Steam #;;Woman ‘King’ ((Cersei Lannister))#longmayshereign-cersei #((I think Brynden put the quotations on 'King'))#((As a jab))#((He's such a shit))#((Throw something at him Cersei))#((He deserves it))#((Also))#((I'm alive??))

riverrunbrynden

Roaring 20s AU

Who would be interested if I wrote a verse thing for Roaring 20s Westeros? With the Houses being Gangsters, Law Enforcers, etc?

All the back alley clubs with half filled whiskey and smoke turning the air to fog; the rainy nights just so right for a somber brood; the cars going through puddles and over steaming grates; the iconic hats and ruby lipstick...

And let's not forget Prohibition...

#;;taking a piss ((ooc note))#((seriously though))#((who wants this???))#((because I do!!))#((Also need to clean house...))#((Maybe make a new blog and turn it into a multimuse like Tas...))