tell me everything there is to know about syrius bc that fc looks like a whole ass snack and im ready to protect him at all costs
Syrius Reyne Dalt (unfortunately) doesn’t enter the story until season 2. In the wake of Robert’s death, Doran Martell sees an opportunity and sends a small party of Dornishmen to the capital for some bs reason like to ‘reassure their ties to the crown.’ Oberyn is really there to discover the names of the Lannister men who killed Elia and her children. Syrius, as Oberyn’s squire, accompanies him with a mission of his own. Since he was a boy, his mother, Alys Reyne, has plotted to restore the House Reyne and take down the Lannisters, her son being key in her plans. Alys and Doran have taught Syrius the virtue of patience, and while Syrius isn’t the best player in the game, he is a keen observer and is dedicated to fulfilling his mother’s dream of seeing the Lannisters fall like the rest of her family fell.
He wasn’t meant to stay in King’s Landing, but Tyrion and Alyssa alter the Martells’ plans. To save her life, Alyssa is spirited to Dorne in an arranged marriage but only agrees to do so if someone remains to watch over Sansa (no way in the seven hells would Alyssa leave Sansa without anyone). Syrius volunteers. He’s really on his own for the first time, had been safe and guided by his mother and mentors in Dorne. But he has a very friendly personality and befriends the Tyrells quickly. Sansa doesn’t trust him at first, is wary, but she warms up to him and Syrius realizes Sansa is going to become the best player and shares with her the lessons he remembers from Doran (so she doesn’t have to listen to Baelish).
Syrius is honestly in the story for me to include more Dorne and to give Sansa a romance slightly more worthy of her than any canon options. Syrius identifies strongly with Sansa’s situation, does his best to comfort and support her as things get worst for her. He knows she can survive, his mother survived too, but he comes to want justice for Sansa so deeply. He will realize that he absolutely loves her later in the seasons but will never ever tell her because she’s been hurt enough and doesn’t to project anything. He is there for her no matter what and also has a supply of lemons exported from his home for Sansa to have a constant supply of lemon cakes.
Fun fact: Syrius’ character was inspired by the song “Wait for It” in the Hamilton musical (because I am always musical trash). Especially these two lyrics: if there’s a reason I’m still alive when everyone who loves me has died then I’m willing to wait for it.
8. being unable to open their eyes for a few moments afterward
“Don’t your fingers ever get tired, Matt?”
“Nope. Though you should know that.”
Matt smirked, and caught the pillow Penny threw at him from the other end of the couch. She pouted, and kicked him in the leg instead.
“That is so not what I meant. Perv.”
“I’m kidding,” he chuckled, leaning back from the case briefs he’d been reviewing. “Honestly, braille isn’t that stressful to read. The texture used to irritate me when I was a kid, but you learn not to press so hard. Just like everything else.”
“Your fingers don’t go numb?” she asked curiously.
“Not really. No more than you going cross-eyed after reading for hours at four in the morning. It’s more about when I’m tired than my fingers.”
“And you’re not tired?” she asked hopefully. She scooted closer to him on the couch, pulling his hands from his work to run her fingers along his own. “Not even a little bit?”
“Sorry,” Matt sighed, kissing her palm briefly. “I’ve still got a lot of work to do. Foggy and I have a lot of stuff coming up, and these people need our help.”
“Ugh, you’re so selfless. One break, Matty.”
“Pen, this can’t wait. Not even for the prettiest redhead in the tri-state area.”
“Wow,” she said in mock disgust. “Just the tri-state area? You must really hate me.”
“Oh, I am so sorry. How could I make such a mistake?”
Matt laughed, pressing a kiss to her cheek. He tried to turn back to his work, but Penny maneuvered herself into his path. She caught her lips with her own, humming into his mouth and almost—almost—detaining him.
“Mm—no, no, no,” Matt mumbled, pulling back from the kiss. He brandished a finger at her and tried to scoot away. “Like, I said, not even for the prettiest woman…”
“Fine!” Penny pulled away, flopping onto her back on the couch. “I’m probably not the prettiest woman anyway.”
She expected Matt to swat her leg and turn back to his paperwork. Instead, he cocked his head in that way he did—the one that made him look like a concerned labrador. His brows knitted tight, he turned to face her.
“What on earth are you talking about? You know you’re beautiful, Penny.”
“Yeah, I know,” she scoffed, waving the compliment aside. “But it’s not like you do.”
“Of course I know that.”
“Matt,” she said pointedly.
“I do,” he laughed. He took his glasses off as if to prove his point, brown, sightless eyes flicking in her direction. “These might not do me any good, but I’ve been listening to Foggy chase men away from you for years.”
“Well just because they think I’m hot doesn’t mean you would. But how would you know? You’ve…You’ve never seen me…”
Penny bit her lip. Matt was frowning at her, and it made her almost nauseous. Of course it was maddening having a boyfriend who couldn’t see you. Sure, it helped reassure her that he was with her for at least some of the right reasons, but that wasn’t enough to put her insecurities to bed. She didn’t like admitting that she had any insecurities, not even to herself, let alone others.
“I’m kidding, Matthew,” she said, forcing a laugh. “Relax. You can wipe the sour look off your face.”
But this was Matt she was talking to. He might have been blind, but he could see just through her just fine.
He held out his hand, and it was only with extreme reluctance that Penny took it. Matt pulled her upright next to him on the sofa, and turned to face her more fully, one leg up on the cushions so that they were knee to knee.
“I do see you, Penny,” he said softly. “Just in my own way.”
“What do you mean?”
Matt hesitated. One of his hands ran down the length of her arm, resting along the back of the couch. The feeling made her shiver, and his lips pulled into the ghost of a smile.
“I see you with my other senses. Smells, sounds, touch. And all of it together paints a picture of you.”
He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, and Penny leaned into the touch.
“So…what do I look like to you?”
She didn’t exactly expect him to answer, not honestly anyway. They’d never had a normal relationship. Serious was hard for them. And this certainly felt like dangerous territory. But Matt dipped his head closer to hers, his fingers tracing the hairline across the back of her neck.
“Well, touch is the easiest. I know the shape of your face, how tall you are. Or how short you are, really,” he amended with a grin. “I love your hair, how soft it is, even when you used to dye it. The mole you have on your scalp just next to the part in your hair. Your curves, your tiny hands, all the imperfections in your skin…”
“Yeah,” Penny breathed, “exactly what every girl wants to hear, Murdock.”
He chuckled, but continued with confidence.
“You don’t match any of the scents that you use. Your hair smells like coconut, and your breath is mint. Your perfume is woodsy, because I know you like using mens’ scents instead of women’s. And everything about you is…loud. Unapologetic. The way you move, the way you walk, the way you laugh. And my favorite thing to listen to is when you get caught up in a story or a rant or your—your latest tirade, and you slip into that Southern accent you pretend that you don’t have.”
Penny bit her lip again, with excitement rather than shame.
“I think you’re still forgetting one.”
“Am I?”
Matt smiled, tipping her chin forward so that he could kiss her again. Penny melted into him, her own eyes fluttering shut. She let him take the lead, following his cues as his tongue flicked across her lips, and tried to focus on her other senses too.
She slid her hands up his chest, over the ridiculously soft button down he was still wearing. Matt always had the softest clothes. He’d already popped the button on his collar, giving way to stubble that scratched at her skin. She traced her fingers over it, trying to read him like braille. She felt his pulse beneath his skin, the healing cuts and scars he insisted were a normal side effect and shaving while blind. His sharp jaw, tousled hair, the near permanent dents over his ears where the legs of his glasses had carved a place for themselves in his skin.
Strong arms wrapped around her waist, tugging her into Matt’s lap with ease. Penny raked her fingers through his hair and breathed through her nose.
Matt never smelt like perfume of cologne. He didn’t use things like that, said they were overpowering when he couldn’t see. Instead he smelt faintly like cotton, like salt from his sweat. It reminded her of a calm beach—fresh, and quiet. He was always quiet. The way he moved, the way he spoke. But it never made him seem timid. He wasn’t shy or small. He was restraint, control, knowledge. It was one of the things that had always drawn her to him.
Penny could barely breathe when Matt pulled away. Her lips chased after his, her eyes still closed. She rested her head against his, breathing in every breath he released. Matt kissed her once more, soft and lingering, and pulled back only enough to speak.
“Intoxicating.”
She breathed a laugh. “I think that’s the wine we were drinking, Matty.”
“No,” he argued, and though she couldn’t see, she could hear the smile in his voice. “It’s just you.”
Penny let her hands fall to his sides. She grabbed his hands and pulled them up to her face. She placed one kiss on each of his palms, then placed them over her eyes, showing him the way they were closed.
“I see you too, Matthew.”
“Yeah.” His chest rumbled with silent laughter, and he traced her eyelashes with a gentle fingertip. “I know you do, Pen.”
Matt leaned forward to kiss her nose, but pushed her back when she tried to kiss him again.
18. kisses where one person is sitting in the other’s lap
Dean Winchester was unbearable at the best of times. When he was sick, it was worse. But injured and out of commission? It would be a miracle if Kat could stop herself from punching a hole in Bobby’s wall.
“This blows,” he grumbled from his seat in the armchair. His right leg was done up in a cast up to his knee, propped up on a stool while he sat in front of the television. “If I have to watch one more procedural cop show, I’m gonna blow my brains out.”
“Have you considered—I don’t know—changing the channel?” Kat bit from her spot in the kitchen.
“Well I would if this remote wasn’t so shitty. Gotta jam the button like six times before anything fucking works. You sure you changed the batteries on this?”
“Yes, Dean. I changed them yesterday.”
“I don’t know. You sure?”
“Yes, Dean,” she repeated through clenched teeth. “I am sure I changed them yesterday.”
“Whatever. Even if I could change the damn channel, there’s nothing good on. News, cop shows, that shitty cartoon reboot that’s always running on Cartoon Network. Whatever happened to Scooby Doo, you know?”
Kat chose not to respond. They’d had this exact conversation the day before, and she was not going to get roped into it again. She’d stab herself with the butter knife before listening to Dean’s synopsis of his favorite twenty episodes of Scooby Doo again. For the moment, she reserved the knife for the peanut butter sandwich she was making.
“If I’m gonna be stuck here, Bobby could at least get better cable,” Dean complained. “There’s not even any decent soaps on. Days of Our Lives, Young and the Restless, General Hospital, Dr. Sexy…”
“Oh, so you admit that Dr. Sexy is a soap?”
“What? No! No, I just meant…you know, jumping off the General Hospital idea, I thought…”
“Save it,” she snorted, carrying his PBJ and chips in on a plate. “We all know your taste in media is questionable at best.”
“Excuse me?” he spat, glaring up at her. “Take that fucking back.”
“One word, Dean. Hentai.”
She dropped the plate of food into his lap and plopped down on the couch.
“Man,” Dean groaned, forgoing the argument to stare longingly at the TV. “I wish Bobby had better porn channels. I wonder if he’s got tapes somewhere around here…”
“Oh no. Fuck no. Absolutely not.”
“Come on,” Dean chuckled through a mouth of peanut butter. “A man’s a man. Bet he’s got a stash somewhere in the library. Maybe the panic room.”
“Dean, I’m not letting you watch porn in Bobby’s living room.”
“Please? Probably the most action I’m gonna get with this thing crushing my leg.”
He pouted down at his cast, and Kat rolled her eyes.
“Trust me, if anyone could figure out how to have sex when they’re immobilized on bed rest, I’m sure it’d be Dean Winchester.”
“That a challenge?” he asked with a smirk.
“No.”
Dean laughed, the armchair squeaking as he threw his head back. He picked up his plate, holding it out of the way and patting his legs. He beckoned her closer. Kat just raised her eyebrows.
“Come here,” he sighed. “No funny business, I promise. I’m just bored out of my mind.”
Kat knew better than to trust a Winchester, but she obliged. Delicately as she could, she draped herself across Dean’s lap, her legs kicked over the side and her shoulder leaning into his chest. It was hard to hide a smile as his arm wrapped around her waist. She plucked one of the chips from his plate and laughed at his grumpy huff.
“Price to pay for my company,” she said with a wink.
“Yeah, whatever. See if you have any more luck with the remote.”
It was nice. A quiet afternoon at Bobby’s, splitting a sandwich and watching TV. Kat was able to find a channel playing Die Hard, which Dean accepted without much complaint. It had commercials, sure, but it was better than listening to the 300th episode of SVU for the day.
She was chuckling at a Geico commercial when she felt Dean nose her hair out of the way. His breath tickled her neck, making her squirm. It was impossible to hide when she was sitting in his lap. Dean smirked against her skin.
“Knock it off,” she grumbled, elbowing him gently in the stomach. “No funny business, remember?”
“Can’t help it,” he mumbled. “A man’s a man.”
His nose trailed up to her chin, and she was turning to face him before he brought his hand up to her cheek. He kissed her gently, a thumb tracing her jaw. It always seemed to surprise her how soft he was. Dean made it so easy to forget everything else.
It was wonderful, but short lived.
A sharp whistle sent them jumping apart. Kat scrambled out of the armchair, under fire from Bobby’s stern glare.
“Can’t leave you two alone for a minute,” he growled. “That’s my damn chair, you know.”
Kat mumbled an apology while Dean rolled his eyes.
“Come on, Bobby. Little more than a minute. What, were you getting enough food to feed an army?”
“Had to if I’m gonna feed your ungrateful ass. Mind giving me some help, Kat?”
“Yeah. Yeah, you got it.”
She pulled her hair back into a ponytail and went to follow Bobby out to the truck. But not before Dean swatted her ass.
Kat flipped him off and hurried from the room. Maybe she’d stab him with the butter knife instead.
( you totally can ignore this one if you don’t feel like doing it ) 11 for kat and ryder :))))
11. when one stops the kiss to whisper, “i’m sorry, are you sure you - ?” and they answer by kissing them more
HAPPY PRIDE MONTH FROM THESE FINE BI BITCHES
p.s. why do i always insist on writing from ryder’s pov? who’s to say?
“Motherfucking vampires.”
Ryder yanked her machete out of a tree trunk, looking disparagingly down at the decapitated head of the last vamp. She suppressed the overwhelming urge to kick it. These boots were new. And expensive. She didn’t need any excess blood on them.
She surveyed the scene—ten bodies, eight or so heads. One or two of them must’ve rolled into the bushes or off the bank into the lake. It wasn’t the heads that concerned her. It was the lack of blonde hair.
“Kat?” she called, looking around the lifeless clearing. “Kat, you okay?”
There was a splash, and Ryder had her blade ready before she heard the spluttering cough.
“Bleh! Y-Yeah, I’m good. Fuck it’s cold.”
Ryder strode down the dock, not bothering to hide her laughter as Kat struggled to push her wet hair into place.
“Wow. Nothing I love more than a case that ends in a wet T-shirt contest.”
“Shut up,” Kat grumbled. She spat out a spout of lake water, wading her way to shore. “All I want to do is get back to the hotel, take a shower, and—ah, shit!”
She hissed in pain as she tried to haul her body onto the dock. Her arms buckled beneath her, and she sploshed back into the water.
“Are you okay?” Ryder demanded, all trace of humor gone. “Did one of them get you?”
“No, no. I think I just twisted my arm when I fell in. A little help?”
Ryder hurried forward, dropping her machete so she could grab Kat’s good arm. She heaved her up, trying to get another arm round her shoulders. She didn’t even see Kat’s hand as she grabbed the back of the other girl’s shirt.
SPLASH!
Kat had been telling the truth about one thing. It was fucking cold. Ryder practically screamed as she resurfaced. Her teeth were already chattering as she blinked the water out of her eyes. And all the while, Kat was laughing her ass off.
“Y-Y-You b-bitch!” Ryder stammered, sending a wave of water Kat’s way. “What the fuck w-was that for?”
“Laughing at me,” said Kat gleefully. “Maybe you should stop making fun of me on every hunt.”
“Oh y-yeah? Well who’s laughing now?”
Ryder’s glare did nothing to stop Kat’s giggles. Neither did the additional splash she sent her way. The water wasn’t too deep—just enough to submerge their shoulders. That meant it wasn’t too hard to push off and grab Kat by the neck.
The kiss wasn’t smooth. It was chattering teeth and surprised lips and wet skin. They slipped on the slimy rocks of the lake bottom, nearly toppling over into the water again.
Kat gasped, and the sound was enough to rocket Ryder back into reality. This was Kat. Sweet, damaged Kat who barely tolerated her flirting, let alone her real advances. She hadn’t even fucking asked.
Ryder ripped her hands out of Kat’s hair, panting.
“I’m sorry,” she breathed. “I—I shouldn’t have done that. Are you sure you…?”
This time it was Kat that grabbed her. The force nearly dunked them into the water again. Then Kat’s legs were finding their way around Ryder’s waist, keeping her afloat as Ryder pushed her back against the pillar of the dock. Kat moaned into the kiss, making her smirk. Kat must’ve felt it, because she yanked on Ryder’s hair in retaliation. Ryder moaned and grabbed Kat’s ass in response. Kat bucked her hips, and they nearly fell over again.
“No, fuck this,” Ryder spluttered, spitting out water and pulling back from the kiss. “This is even more complicated than shower sex. Can we go back to the motel now?”
Kat laughed. Ryder was almost mesmerized by her smile, her cheeks flushed pink under a streak or two of red vampire blood. She was gorgeous.
“Yeah,” Kat agreed. She pushed a few dark locks of hair out of Ryder’s eyes. “Yeah, we can go back to the motel now.”
@cptainsrogers and @moirei make some of the best ocs and the most perfect gifsets for them (not to mention cptainsrogers wattpad are amazing). like teach me your ways.
is there a fandom you want to write for that you haven’t yet?
Well I really want to write a dragon age story, but I wouldn’t know which world state to use as a base and all that lovely in game stuff. But like for tv shows and all that, mainly since I’ve been rewatching the newsroom, honestly it’s the only one i can think of right now.
whew girl.. blair is heated. loyalty is one of the most important things to her, and it’s like cheryl came along and toni just up and forgot about the other serpents.
it especially bugs her because she was supportive to choni’s relationship at first, just glad that toni was happy. but, once cheryl got fangs kicked out and choni was kicked out as well and started the poisons, blair was piiiissed.
cheryl and the poisons jumping sweet pea and fangs knowing that they wouldn’t fight back also has her feeling some type of way
