lothar karstark

they will always hurt you, they will always underestimate, but you will make them pay. LOTHAR KARSTARK indie got + asoiaf blog tag: thebcneless fc: alex høgh andersen mun 21+ written by belinda est. 11/14/2016

[warheroics-blog]

HIATUS.

so, first semester grades came out for law school and good news is that I didn’t fail so I’m not getting kicked out!

but bad news is that the grades aren’t particularly good either so if I want to keep my scholarship for the next two years, I will literally need to get an A in all my classes in the spring semester this year to be able to keep my scholarship, and that’s not gonna be an easy task, which means I will have to devote basically all of my time to my studies and that will not leave much time for RP.

for this reason, I am putting this blog and my other blogs on hiatus for the time being. there’s just too many blogs for me to be able to handle, and while I may still keep one or two semi active, I will largely have to put everything else on hiatus just to give myself time to focus on my studies and be able to keep my scholarship.

I’m not getting rid of the blogs, they will still be here and once I am no longer worried about grades and scholarships and find the time again, then I will come back to be active again.

so this is not a permanent goodbye, it’s just a temporary one, more of a see you later!

love you all and I will be back!

[thebcneless-blog]

STARTER CALL!!!

Like for a Starter!

[thebcneless-blog]

“his family hates him, they do not want him, but he will show them, he’s as much a Karstark as they are, maybe even more.”

[thebcneless-blog]

BLOG IS BACK FROM HIATUS.

[youngheartss-blog1]

low activity due to finals.

may not be as active for the next few weeks as I’m heading into finals very soon for law school and I really can’t afford to screw things up, especially when I’m already not doing well in one class and I’m trying to re-learn a lot of stuff that I’m confused on

I will try to be on more during the weekends to catch up on replies and starters but will likely not be on very much during the week

my activity will be much better once my last exam is finished in first week of december and my winter break begins

thank you for understanding :)

smooch!

- Belinda

[thebcneless-blog]

agirlingrey:

“Fine, fine. Not your brothers.” Honestly, it was FOOLISH of her to even suggest that in the first place. She had only done so out of instinct, because her brothers would be the first people she would call if she were injured. But a maester needed to take a look at him all the same. Alys wasn’t familiar with whatever CONDITION Lothar had — she had been told since she was little that he was a ‘cripple,’ and that was that. She could stop bleeding and bind a wound as well as any man or woman in Karhold, but from the way his limbs kept twitching in a most GROTESQUE way ( so much that it was hard to look upon them ), even a halfwit could see that he needed a proper maester, despite his stupid pride.

“I still need to get a maester,” She warned him curtly, and did. Maester Wilkins wasn’t a hard man to find. He misliked noise and ale alike, so hardly attended any feasts, instead preferring to bury himself in his tomes, inside his chambers atop the library tower. When the both of them entered the room, Lothar was still twitching on the bed, but his movements were SLOWER now, as if his body had tired itself out. For the first time in her life, Alys found herself GENUINELY CURIOUS about what might have happened to him: whether he was born this way, or he had some illness that made him so. 

But this wasn’t the place to ask it, so she didn’t, instead turned her attention to the old and kindly maester she always liked. “He was… in a fight,” She explained only after a moment of pause. It didn’t feel RIGHT to tell the maester that his father beat him in front of everyone, even though the man would learn of it, soon enough. “He suffered quite a few blows, mostly to his legs and back. We carried him here and I called you soon after.”

Alys refused to look at the scene before her, especially after the maester began to examine him more closely — instead she HOVERED over the doorway uncertainly, ready to flee as soon as Lothar’s attention turned elsewhere. It didn’t seem to be going elsewhere any time soon, as she could practically FEEL his hurt gaze on her person. He has nothing to feel hurt over, she thought to herself stubbornly, I am helping him, which is more than his own father or brothers ever done for him.

Lothar had to bite down on his lips to keep himself from crying out as she left the room. He had to keep reminding himself that she’s only going to get the Maester, that she’s not really leaving him here by himself. He’s being irrational, he knows this. He’s being a child, a baby, he’s not the man he should be. All the things that his father, his mother, and his brothers have said about him are true. He is weak, he is weak on his own, nothing without anyone else, and he will have to accept that.

For so long he’s managed to keep those thoughts away. His walls blocking him from thinking about it. But tonight was the first time his walls had failed, and emotions he told himself to not think about for years flooded back with a vengeance, slashing and shredding every bit of confidence he has built for himself throughout the years. No matter how smart he is, he’s still nothing.

His heart flutters with relief when he sees Alys Karstark return with the Maester. She didn’t leave. She came back. Even as he laid there in pain and exhausted, he felt a kind of relief that he hadn’t ever allowed himself to feel. At least someone in this castle, someone might have the decency to care, even if just a little. He keeps his eyes on her as the Maester gets to work. Staring at her is better than looking to the Maester and realizing what the Maester would have to do to fix things for him.

“We will have to reset the bones again, then bound them...you know the drill, Lothar...bite down on this...” Lothar’s gaze doesn’t move from Alys as he bites down on the piece of wood the Maester held to his mouth. He takes a breath and prepares himself for the pain that he knew would come.

[thebcneless-blog]

STARTER CALL!

Like for a Starter!!

[thebcneless-blog]

will be on tomorrow night to finally get some replies and starters up :)

[thebcneless-blog]

agirlingrey:

Look away, Alys told herself, as she stared at the GHASTLY sight in front of her. Look away, it has nothing to do with you. She could tell that Arthor did this quite regularly. It was written all over Lothar’s RESIGNED behaviour, as well as the way his father picked a spot that was quite cunning — visible enough to shame him in front of the other guests, but hidden enough to not risk the ire of her father. Even though Lord Rickard had no AFFECTION for Lothar whatsoever, he would have never allowed such a scene to take place in his hall, if he had seen. She couldn’t help but WINCE as Arthor took away his crutches, or whatever they were called, and left him there, on the floor, bleeding and curled up in a ball.

As Arthor passed by her, he sent her a look so full of HATE AND LOATHING that she had to resist the urge to recoil in fear. As it was, she glared right back at him, knowing he would never dare to touch her or mistreat her. Although… it might be wise to never be in the same room alone with him from now on. She had always thought that it had been Arnolf who despised her, while the rest of them merely IGNORED her. But apparently, that wasn’t the case.

Despite her BETTER JUDGEMENT, Alys found herself following Lothar as he crawled away like some sort of insect, her expression torn between disgust and pity. She watched as he heaved himself up to the first step of the stairs, not meeting her eyes and breathing heavily. Almost on instinct, she extended a hand in a universal gesture of OFFERING HELP, but withdrew her hand quickly, as though she had been scalded. Lothar might think otherwise, but she actually DID NOT enjoy seeing him crawling and bleeding. She pitied him, but she wasn’t about to actually put her hands on him and carry him to his room.

With a long, suffering sigh, Alys called one of the guards — a large, quiet man named Wylis who had been serving here since before she was born. She followed them silently as Wylis practically CARRIED Lothar up the stairs, who had given in to being carried after only a few seconds of putting up a weak fight. Thanking Wylis quietly, she closed the door behind them, looking around the room in displeasure. She had never been in Lothar’s room before, as she never had a reason to step in here. It was small, simple, dark and rather OPPRESSIVE.

“I am going to call for the maester now,” Alys spoke for the first time since Arthor had stormed towards them in rage. “I don’t think you are in the right mind to take care of your injuries right now.” And I’m certainly not doing it, went unsaid. “Or I could call one of your brothers, if you want. But I’m going back down to the feast.”

At some point, there was just no use in fighting. Lothar could resist his father hitting him but he would never escape it. Lothar could resist being carried up the steps but it would still happen regardless of his feelings. Fighting a losing battle was pointless and useless and something he didn’t need to do in the end. Though sometimes pride and that Karstark stubbornness told him differently.

He should probably be upset that Alys had seen his room and the few meager things he had, but the throbbing pain all over his body at this point took more of his attention than Alys Karstark. All Lothar focused on was not screaming in pain at how every little moment it’s like some part of his party was shattering to pieces.

When Alys spoke of leaving and going down to the feast, a panic seized Lothar so suddenly and unexpectedly, he gasped and snapped back to focus, “No!” He practically shouted, “No, please don’t leave...” And here he is, begging again, a shameful behavior, just one more added to the list of shameful behaviors he seemed to have to go through today. “Not...not my brothers...”

Alys Karstark may adore her brothers, but Lothar never did his. They followed Mother and Father’s way and tormented him. He was sure there had been a time perhaps they had been happy together, but Lothar doesn’t even remember if such a thing ever existed or had he simply dreamed it.

“Please...stay...” Desperation tinged his voice and for the first time in a long time, Lothar was afraid of being alone, his blue eyes looked at Alys pleadingly.

[ncrthernserenity-blog]

upcoming midterms.

my blog activities will be rather sporadic for the next two weeks due to midterms coming up!

I might be on IM and discord and such to chat but will likely not be doing replies until after my two midterms are finished :)

[thebcneless-blog]

skincfsteel:

   Of course Sansa knew who this man was. While the features from his face had faded over the years, it was clear he was a Karstark. While he lacked the pride and the ability to STAND TALL like a Karstark, his dark hair and sculpted face gave clear identification. 

     “Get the man some water. I don’t plan on listening to whispers all night.” 

This demand could have been seen as an act of kindness, an act of frailty from a poor WOMAN’S HEART. But, it was just the opposite. If the man could speak better maybe he’d speak more. Maybe he’d admit to something by accident. If not, a clear voice was less jarring to listen to than a feeble one. 

       “Lord Kartstark, tell me, how did you get to be in this condition?”

 Clearly, not by choice. 

Lothar didn’t care if the water was out of kindness or just simple need to hear him speak, he practically gulped it down all the same. He hadn’t had such luxuries for so long, he almost didn’t want to be part from it once the water touched his parched lips.

But he tears himself away, knowing if he drank too much he’d get sick, and knowing that Sansa would want to hear him speak.

He knows what most thinks of Karstarks, he knows how the reputation goes these days, especially the reputations of Arnolf Karstark’s bloodline - at least Rickard Karstark had honor, Arnolf had none of that.

But Lothar was loyal, he was loyal to the Starks, his kin, and the only family that had treated him with any amount of respect and kindness. Sansa needed to know that.

“I...I tried to...to free your brother...Rickon...I was found out...they locked me and chained me up...I’m sorry, my Lady...I’m sorry I couldn’t save him...” He hang his head in shame. If he had tried harder, been more clever, Rickon Stark would be alive.

[thebcneless-blog]

agirlingrey:

After having dealt with Arnolf, his brood and their mutual TREACHERY, not much surprised Alys anymore when it came to that part of the family. However, nothing could have prepared for the sudden glassiness ( she REFUSED to think of them as tears ) that took over Lothar’s shockingly blue eyes. He turned his head away from hers quickly so she only caught a glimpse, and Alys herself did the same as soon as she realised what was happening. She was just as uncomfortable with his uncharacteristical show of emotion as he was, and it was unspoken but plain that none of them would acknowledge it, EVER. She cleared her throat noisily, as if to clear the air of any awkwardness with that gesture, but the sound was lost amongst the loud merriment that still raged around them, ignorant of the tense conversation that was taking place in a shadowy corner of the great hall. Even her father, who normally rarely strayed his eyes away from her for too long, seemed to have FORGOTTEN about their existence entirely.

“Sure,” Alys said with a shrug, her voice sounding easy and careless — though she still refused to look at him in the eye, not wanting to see whatever emotion they may carry. “I don’t particularly care what you do all day. I just said it to start a SOMEWHAT PLEASANT conversation.” A task, needless to say, that she failed miserably. When she finally turned to face him again, her expression was coloured with surprise and SUSPICION, as she couldn’t tell whether he was telling the truth or if this was one of his many sarcastic japes. He always did have a ‘sense of humour’ that she could never seem to understand.

“Poetry…” She spoke the word incredulously, barely able to refrain herself from SNEERING or worse. “You don’t strike me as much of a poet type but… whatever you say.” Alys herself was guilty of enjoying books and lore more than most of her noble counterparts, but poetry was something she always considered to be a waste of time. Mostly because she simply didn’t have the talent, patience or the SPIRIT for it. “What do you write about, then?” Not wanting him to take her question as a sign of genuine interest, she quickly added, “How much you despise us, perhaps? I seem to recall a lady from the Reach who wrote hundreds upon hundreds of pages about how much she despised her lord husband.”

Out of nowhere, she caught Harrion’s eye, who seemed to be watching them like a hawk, displeasure written all over his face. Alys didn’t doubt that with the slightest sign of ‘danger,’ he would make his way over to them, probably with a blade in hand. Her brother rose an eyebrow in question, after shooting Lothar the DIRTIEST look she had ever seen. Eager to avoid any possible scene, Alys shrugged and shook her head at Harry, hoping to deter him from doing something most unwise. Lord Rickard had no great love for her current companion either, but he wouldn’t look kindly upon one of his sons causing a scene in front of all these guests.

He’s trying, he’s really trying to be honest, to be friendly, seemingly something she had demanded, yet it feels like his honesty is being trashed at every turn. Why had he bared himself open if it was to only receive hurtful words in return when he’s finally being honest as she had wanted. Had she not wanted to hear his honesty after all? Lothar looks down in silence, unable to form any clever words against what feels like a barrage of attacks. She’s mocking him, dismissing his words, presuming his guilt already - that’s what her words feel like to him, like daggers digging into his chest, twisting and driving deeper. 

He stays silent for a moment, wondering if he should be honest any further given the state of things, but what more could he lose? She was either going to believe him or not, maybe she will use it against him in the future, maybe she will use it to mock him or tell her brothers, at least he will know to be ready. “I write about a knight....a knight looking for respect, status, and someone to love him...a knight who is a hero of the people...”

That had been Lothar’s dream as a boy. He had desperately wanted to be a knight like all the other boys before his father had shouted at him that he was a useless cripple so he needed to stop believing in stupid dreams. His mother had berated him for upsetting his father. Lothar had cried in his room that day, crying for a dream that would never be his. He would never be a knight, nor have respect, nor anyone to love him.

He was about to say more when a shadow cast over him and Lothar looked up to find his stern-faced father Arthor, son of Arnolf. A shiver ran through him as his father wasted no time gripping him by the scruff of his neck to pull him up, intending to led him away.

“Apologies, Lady Alys, I must have a word with my son.” And with that Arthor practically dragged Lothar away and into the corridors, the younger one struggling to keep up, wincing at the pain in his legs as he shuffled along on his staves. His father shoved him against the wall, eyes glaring in anger. “You disgrace your family, and now I find you consorting with Alys Karstark looking all sad. Pathetic.”

A resounding slap sent Lothar crashing into the ground. He didn’t even have time to recover before he cried out in pain as it erupted in his leg. He realized his father was stepping on one of his twisted knees, he could feel bones breaking under the weight. “Father please...” Lothar begged, even though he knew that his father hated to hear him beg and saw it as a sign of weakness. But he was in pain, he just wanted to escape, to get away.

“Begging is beneath a Karstark. You’re weak, and weaklings like you do not deserve any sympathy. You will go to your room and stay there, you will not have food tonight or tomorrow morning until I send for you if I deem fit.” Arthor picked up the staves and wasted no time in shattering them against the wall and throwing down the pieces for Lothar to see, “Since you deem to not behave like a man, you will crawl to your room like the animal that you are.” With one last kick delivered to Lothar’s abdomen, Arthor Karstark left his son on the ground.

Lothar laid there in silence, bleeding from a cut lip, one cheek already red from the slap, and throbbing pain in his now-broken knee. Normally he would never have let his father’s words effect him. He would take the beating and go to his room. But today was worse than any time before, his walls weren’t up, his defenses weren’t up, and the pain hit him like waves on the ocean. His father would hate him forever, he would never have his father’s love, or anyone’s love. What had he really done to deserve this? Wouldn’t it be better if he had just died as a baby? He could have saved everyone the trouble.

[thebcneless-blog]

when u have karstark feels and u think of @agirlingrey

[agirlingrey]

         AGIRLINGREY’S 2.5K GIVEAWAY !

I am simply STUNNED by the number of new followers I have gained lately, especially considering how I was on a long semi-hiatus and definitely did not deserve all the interest and patience I have been given. So, as a thank you, I decided to organise a giveaway after so many months !

The rules are what they always are: TWO people will receive a custom theme, with pop-up pages and all the other shenanigans, coded by me. You must be following ME ( please don’t follower-jump and unfollow right after the giveaway, or I will disqualify your url from all future giveaways because it’s rude af ), reblogs and likes both count, but only after you reblogged it at least once. Reblog it as many times as you’d like, but be considerate of your followers. Ends on 7TH OF OCTOBER, SATURDAY. Good luck to you all, and thank you very much for supporting me and my precious girl all this time !

         THEME EXAMPLES !     ( PLEASE CHECK OUT MY THEME GALLERY. )

[motherofwolvcs-a-deactivated202]

“why haven’t you been more active?”

[ofhotheads-blog]

                                                                  W A R N I N G :                                          do NOT mistake my goodness for weakness                                              (it’ll be the last mistake you ever make)

[thebcneless-blog]

will be back on Friday night to do some replies for the queue ;)