#fiercefourthborn

[fifthbornforrester]

@fiercefourthborn | sc

It has been some time since she has entered the dungeons. She had entered during her childhood, content that no one occupied any cells. Now there are many. But there is one cell in particular that she desires to visit. The groans of others mixed with the echoes of the click of her heeled boots. Ironrath is her’s once more. A Forrester sits in the Lord’s chair and the scraps of Whitehill banners littered the courtyard outside. He has only seen her once before like this as she commanded those who had joined her cause to arrest him. Talia is a woman grown now. Her frame has grown taller and her womanly curves have developed. Her eyes are hard as they look upon Gryff yet her lips upturn in a smirk that is enough to send shivers down anyone’s spine. 

“So ...” the words spew, her tongue now as sharp as a blade, “here we are. I hope the accommodations are to your liking.”

[the-cerwyn]

@fiercefourthborn

Possibly! There’s always that, or...

I search for a new FC.

Which I actually wouldn’t mind. No doubt Cley’s look would of changed from Season 3 to Season 7(8? Forgot which one TV!Show Cley appeared).

[wintcrskiss]

“ you’re wrong ”

two word starters || accepting || @fiercefourthborn​

Myriam gave the man a sour look. What she had been speaking of was trivial, not something she expected to be argued with about. Glancing slightly at those also there, who were listening in, she felt rather undermined. “Fuck off,” she said, before turning on her heel. 

[the-cerwyn]

Just read the second issue of Haven, had me thinking...

Cley would probably be medical student before the apocalypse, but I don’t know if he’d be traveling alone or along with his Whitehill pals.

[wintcrskiss]

@fiercefourthborn

A familiar face, but one she had not expected to see. It had been sometime since he had came to this establishment, and she was surprised after all that had passed with the Boltons that he would dare to. “You’re a long way from home. Didn’t expect to be seein’ you round here again.”

[fifthbornforrester]

H e l l o ( IDK what Im thinking, I just wanna see how the kissing ask meme can possibly go in this case :O )

FIRST FIVE ASKS GET A KISS | @fiercefourthborn

Something has always struck a chord with Talia seeing the Whitehills. She attempts to be nonjudgmental but how can she not when she has been spewed curses about their family throughout her short life? Still, they must be civil. The older boy in front of her is not someone she can consider handsome. Still, she is only a child of eight years. How can she determine who is handsome? Perhaps she knows the feeling of when she sees the Stark boys and Gared, and how it lacks looking upon Gryff. 

Mother says to be kind, Talia reminds herself, although each story and rumor told to her repeats themselves louder each time. She clutches the expensive cloth that was placed in her hand moments before. The boy has no time for needlework. This must be a gift from his sister, although she is too busy speaking with Asher to notice it has been swiped. 

“Thank you for your kind offering, my Lord,” she recites just as she had practiced in her chambers the night before. “I can only pray that my family’s offering suits each member of your’s.” Talia presses through the soles of her leather boots to stand upon her tiptoes before pressing the chastest kiss upon Gryff’s cheek. 

[thedawnwitch-blog]

✉ - push my muse back down when they try to get out of bed (perhaps involving illness, injury, or sleep deprivation) (remember that time Ral fell in a river & we both agreed that could lead to him getting a cold?..) (Gryff's protective/caretaking instincts activated)

Manhandling symbol starters

Send one for your muse to…

He hated everything about this. He hated being under a roof– so confined by walls and unable to see the sky save for glimpses out a window, messing with his internal clock that made even an hour stretch on forever… Though, the boredom was worse and also a likely culprit for the seemingly endless flow of time. He hated not being able to move on. Staying in one place was so against everything he had done, and continues to do, in his life. Movement was life, and coin, and staying inside this room while he was sick bothered him– he had been far sicker before and still continued his travels…Then, of course, was Gryff’s seemingly worried behaviour over his health. Such a thing was odd– nearly unnatural in both the way the Whitehill tended to behave and that Raleigh was simply not used to anyone other than his hounds worrying about his well being. 

So, having the younger man push him back into bed as if standing was going to be the death of the witch, earned the blond a loud ‘huff’ from the lips that pursed into an expression edging dangerously towards a pout.

“My lord,” he began, trying to keep a wheeze from following as he took a breath– that would just confirm whatever worry Gryff had that had him keeping him indoors. “I am well enough–” Whatever further protest was coming from the usual grinning witch was cut off by a sneeze.

The nearby fire, that had been crackling softly, roared with the sudden will to burn far hotter and larger than it should have.

[fiercefourthborn]

@vxicefromhighpoint

The words take her by surprise. It has been a long time since such gentle words have been shared between brother and sister. Too long have they argued, pointing the blame at each other, turning against each other, when it is now, when their family lies in tatters, that they must rely on each the most.

“We are family, Gryff.” She is careful to keep the tone light, not daring to provoke him, lest this moment give way to another heated spat. “Whether you care to admit it or not, you will always need me, and I will always need you.”

“You know that is not true though.“

There is no usual bite or spite in his words & that’s been so for a while now. Following the battle, the funeral of their father, Gryff seemed a fair bit quieter than usual (save for moments, when someone was foolish enough to mention the Forrester name in his presence). The grim & somber air, that’s been reigning over Highpoint ever since, seems to have been affecting him more, than anyone else. Even now, his voice sounds devoid of any strong emotion & gaze - directed a little sideways from Gwyn, as if he is avoiding looking her in the eyes, while still addressing the words to his sister.

“You do not need me, Gwyn.” He states this as calmly, as any regular piece of information, expression unreadable. Gryff himself has trouble telling, why this doesn’t make him feel more; where is this acceptance coming from. “Not in the way I do you, at least. You may care... But deep inside, you know you’d manage fine without me, or... anyone. That’s not bad” The last word is cut off when the Whitehill clenches his teeth abruptly, the only giveaway that he actually feels anything being his jaw line becoming more prominent for a split second. “That’s enviable, in fact. Wish I could be that way too. Must make things so much... easier.”