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ghostinsweats March 23 2012, 04:21:57 UTC
i'm your national anthem

He's not the kind of king she wanted. The ironmen don't respect him, propped up by Lannisters on a chair he barely sits on and she doesn't either (could she ever, this fierce lovely brute of a queen). He likes to think she had a fondness for him, of sorts but as he watches her now, standing above him, curling around him like a snake, he wonders if that was courtesy too, Southron courtesy. He was raised at Winterfell, of course. He doesn't understand.

She'd done him the favor of fucking him beforehand, a final touch, he thought--lions were different from wolves, all games and touches and courtesies. Robb had been rough but he had never, tricked, never lied, never known how--but he is dead, dead and it doesn't matter. She had sunk her teeth into his shoulder, watched him as he collapsed on the bed afterward, sated and it was only after that he felt his breath grow tight ( ... )

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mockyrfears March 23 2012, 13:39:42 UTC
SCREAMIDGNVBDSGSEHGESKGHESUDHGFKUJSDHFSREDHFVWSDKJHFEDSHFCES
YOU
ARE
RUINING
MY
LIFE

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monsterjumper March 24 2012, 07:26:40 UTC
This. Is. PERFECT

AGH MY HEART

But really there is only one way this relationship could ever go and this is it

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oximore March 24 2012, 11:13:29 UTC
This is so damn brilliant.

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