RileytheStag



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  1. Public Bookmark 36

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    "What’s left in you but fire, violence and evil?" he wants to ask him on one of their nights.

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    01 Apr 2026

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    "The crown suits you, you know," said Ser Duncan over the cacophony, and brought Baelor back to himself. "Makes you look... you know. Kingly. Which I suppose makes sense, given that you're the king now." A look of anguish crossed his face. "Oh, hells, I shouldn't be calling you 'you,' should I? It's 'Your Grace.' Please don't take—"

    Baelor resisted the urge to rest his hand against the lad's back, as one might soothe a skittish horse. "No offense was taken, ser."

    "Thank you," Ser Duncan said, then immediately amended, "Thank Your Grace...ness. Seven fucks, I'm getting another drink." And he whirled away into the throng before Baelor could say a word.


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    31 Mar 2026

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    “Are you this slow with her?” Aerion snarked with his usual bite, though there was no hiding the way his breath hitched when strong fingers dug into the fabric scrunched around the hem of his tailored jeans.

    But Dunk’s answer was caught somewhere in the back of his throat, knowing that if he used his lips for anything other than what they were currently tasked with, he’d never have the gall to find himself in this position again.

     
    Or, the one where Dunk has a girlfriend and a university roommate with a terribly skewed moral compass.

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    22 Mar 2026

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    “To the Giant of Flea Bottom,

    Do not think this is over. I have paid three men in the Reach to follow you. If you sleep, they will be watching. If you eat, they will be counting the bites. If you find yourself some common omega wench that you’ve fallen in love with, I want their fingers brought to me in a box of salt. You are a stain on the laws of gods and men, and I will watch you rot from across the world.

    — A.T.”

    Dunk is only trying to be of honorable service, but his travels are constantly interrupted by “hate” letters from a certain exiled prince across the Narrow Sea.

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    16 Mar 2026

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    From his booted feet to his head, Aerion followed every visible inch of Dunk’s form with a silent, feline-like curiosity, as if seeing him as a mouse and sizing him up for a meal. It felt like an age before his eyes fell upon Dunk’s face, searching his dirtied cheeks and the blue of his eyes as if watching the clouds and consulting the weather, or checking the sky for signs of some foul sort of omen. When their eyes met at last, Aerion’s cockiness fell from his features swiftly as if Dunk had backhanded it from his face. His swagger faltered, and then his hackles were up, his lips pulling into a snarl.

    “I shall withdraw my accusation if the oaf swears an oath of fealty to me and becomes my sworn sword.”

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    15 Mar 2026