#Arya Stark imagine

[axelsagewrites]

Their reaction to seeing the Barbie movie with you

Includes (in order): jamie, jon, drogo, obryen, podrick, ramsay, robb, sandor, theon, tormund, tyrion, arya, brienne, danerys, margery, sansa, yara, aegon, aemond, daemon, jace, alicent, baela, rhaena, rhaenyra

Word count: 952

Masterlist Here

GoT Boys

Jamie - he practically refused to go up till the last second then finally caved but once the movie starts, he starts tearing up because he also does not feel Kenenough

Jon – he defiantly was the one to ask to go see the movie but insists to all his friends he’s going because you wanted to

Khal Drogo – agrees to go on the condition of seeing Oppenheimer before but the only thing he talks about for the following week is barbie

Obryen – it was your idea for the tickets but his for the matching pink outfits and photoshoot beforehand and he definitely rolls his eyes at anyone who sees Oppenheimer instead

Podrick – desperate to see barbie with you and is excited the whole week leading up to it. he’s already buying tickets for next week as your leaving the theatre

Ramsay - you both argue about whether to see Oppenheimer or barbie and eventually it gets settled by agreeing to see the separate movies at the same time as long as he gets you a large popcorn as punishment for having no taste

Robb – doesn’t get the fuss at first but as soon as he is sat in the cinema chair, he is mesmerised by the movie

Sandor – if you think this man would be caught dead sitting watching barbie, you’d be sorely mistaken. however, that’s mostly because he hates leaving the house, but he will pirate the movie and watch it on the sofa with you

Theon – makes fun of the movie constantly and says you should go see Oppenheimer instead but when you get to the theatre, he’s sheepishly holding two barbie tickets

Tormund – buys the tickets for you before you even ask and hypes up your pink barbie outfit, buys himself a bright pink t-shirt and just goes for the good vibes

Tyrion – goes with you unashamed and in a bright pink suit insisting if he was in barbie world, he’d be a barbie or at least an Allan not just another Ken

GoT Girls

Arya – insists it can’t be that good and even pretends to hate it but the next day she sneaks off to go see it again alone and then you end up finding a new barbie she bought in her room

Brienne – she felt a bit embarrassed about going at first, but she ended up relating to the movie so much that she cried and bought herself a barbie dream house to heal her inner child

Daenerys – she didn’t think she’d like it since she has more of a horror vibe however once it starts, she starts tearing up and secretly loves it

Margery – she bought out like half the cinema getting tickets for her and her squad and plans matching outfits for everyone to go in and makes 1000 TikTok’s about the whole thing

Sansa – she has been planning this since the movie was announced and is ready with a Pinterest board of outfits for you to pick with

Yara – defiantly put up a fight and wanted to see Oppenheimer instead but she is a sucker for you and eventually agrees and pretends she didn’t love it afterwards even though barbie is now all she can think about

HotD Boys

Aegon – all he talks about is barbie which mainly started to wind Aemond but when you offered to get tickets he jumped at the chance and started taking it seriously to the point of buying a custom “I’m the ken, they’re barbie” shirt with a pink arrow pointing at you

Aemond – he really wanted to see Oppenheimer first, but he cannot say no to you so finally caved and went with you, but he was on the edge of his seat all night and you missed the first 10 minutes of Oppenheimer since he wouldn’t stop talking about barbie

Daemon – when you tell him you want to go, he ends up pulling strings and tells you that you’re going to the official premier by giving you a brand new custom pink dress and even rocks up in a pink suit to match

Jace – this man bought these tickets the first day they were listed and is defending Margot Robbie online when he is not gushing to you how amazing it was and how good your barbie premier outfit was

HotD girls

Alicent – she tried to play it off cool as if it weren’t her thing but was secretly thrilled you asked her to go however, she only played it cool till opening credits started and she squealed in excitement

Baela – you didn’t think she’d be too interested since she was more of a tom boy than her sister but she surprised you by whipping out the massive box of barbies from her closet from her childhood when she begged you to go with her even though you had already said yes like twenty times

Rhaena –she has been playing the barbie sound track over and over, crying at half the songs and dancing with you around the house to the next so you bet your ass she went to watch it on the premier day Heleana – for some reason she was really nervous to ask you to go with her but when she did you of course said yes, and she started planning a pastel pink outfit and ordered you both custom barbie earrings from Esty

Rhaenyra – she was down to see it, even getting the best seats in advance for you but she did not expect it to heal her inner child so much since she stopped playing with barbies after her mother died since she thought her mum looked like barbie

Taglist: @clairacassidy @nyotamalfoy @valeskafics

A/n: Take a moment to appreciate how many god damn tags I had to type to the point I maxed it out and had to try cut the tags down! Anyway live laugh barbie

[x-aefx]

Hi sweetie! So we have the exact same obsession with Arya and Ellie and you said they are kinda similar (and it is true lmao). What things do you think dating them would have in common? And the differences? I also can't stop thinking about having a relathinship with both, like a one shot crossover. Omg I'm going feral for this.

I LOVE THIS.

In all honesty this had me thinking for a bit.

♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪

DATING ARYA STARK/ELLIE WILLIAMS :

SIMILARITIES;

Both would make sure you know how to defend yourself.

Arya would teach you how to use a sword and a bow and arrow (any weapon really) watching you improve would make her heart swell with pride. She would tease you constantly during training but her priority would be to make sure your always protected.

Ellie would teach you how to shoot a gun, use a knife etc. Again, seeing your improvements would make her proud but she would express that with flirty remarks. Ellie would encourage you to practice by pretending she's someone unwanted and for you to try strike her, however neither she or Arya would ever try it on you.

Both are very protective of you. Will make this clear to anyone they think needs to know.

Family is very important to Arya and Ellie. Neither would rush or pressure you into meeting their family. However when you do agree to meet them, they'll go all out. Both will make sure everything is perfect! They'll give you any necessary warnings or advice. Will hold your hand reassuringly if they notice your nervous/stressed. Both would proudly show you off to everyone.

Neither are very lovey dovey in public HOWEVER both would throw out the occasional flirty remark.

In crowds or other settings that can be stressful/dangerous/overwhelming Arya would let you squeeze her hand as tight as you need without showing any bit of pain. She would whisper comforting things to you. If she thinks your uncomfortable or overwhelmed she will lead you away from everyone and reassure you everything is alright. She'll cup the sides of your face and comfort you.

Ellie LOVES to hold your hands. Her hand will be on the small of your back to guide you or simply to remind you your safe and that she's beside you. Hugs from behind. She'll creep up on you, wrap her hands around your waist and rest her chin on your shoulder, swaying you both slightly.

Arya's and Ellie's perfect date would be just the two of you together someplace out of sight from everyone else.

Ellie would either bring you to her home or an abandoned building (that is safe!) She'll probably have weed or alcohol with her. Music would be playing in the background, which she'll probably make you dance with her to. She'll joke around, shower you in compliments and since it's just the two of you, she'll be more affectionate. She'll shower you in kisses everywhere. She'll praise you and her compliments will turn to flirty and seductive remarks fast. I'm sure you have an idea as to what might happen after;)

Arya would bring you to a beautiful northern sight on horseback. At first things will be calm. You two will get into a deep but nice conversation. The atmosphere is light and free. Then Arya will waste no more time and show you how much she loves and appreciates you. She'll remind you of your worth and beauty. Very flirty and blunt.

Prayers go to whoever hurts you in the slightest because theses girls would quite literally kill for you. No matter who they are or what advantages they have, Arya and Ellie would easily show them the mistake they made.

DIFFERENCES:

The main differences between Arya and Ellie in my opinion is how the would react to things.

Arya;

Arya would waste no time in finding out the reason for your pain and dealing with it. She would do it unexpectedly and quietly. She wouldn't make it a scene or very public unless it's something serious and she's real pissed off, them she'll go off.

When that's dealt with she'll go straight to you. She won't mention what she did as her only focus at that moment will be you. She'll hold you and comfort you. She'll let you cry in her arms and listen to your sobs and mumbling. Arya will continually remind you of how strong you are and how much your are worth. Won't leave you until she knows your alright.

Ellie;

Ellie would go to you first to make sure what she was hearing was true. Once she sees your pain she will be filled with rage and anger. She'll go straight away to deal with the problem but upon hearing your protests, her anger will disappear and immediately she's by your side pulling you into her arms. Ellie will rub up and down your arms to soothe you, she'll kiss your shoulders and neck, along your jaw and all over your face.

She'll remind you of your worth and how much you mean to her. When you calm down she'll make sure you've eaten and gently get you into bed. Whilst your asleep that will be when she'll go deal with whatever made you hurt. She won't care about making a scene, only that the problem is dealt with it.

°°°°°°

I wrote this at 2am so my apologies for any mistakes.

[poisonsage808]

♡ Happy Heart Day ♡

Starks Edition

♡ Jon Snow ♡

He hasn’t ever celebrated this holiday. A part of him wants to and the other part is just so defeated, he wouldn’t know where to start anyways. When you surprise him with a handmade card and a chocolate fudge wrapped in pinkish wax paper, he blushes and stutters!

“A-Are you sure?” He asks, looking around like you’ve somehow mistaken him for someone else.

You smile patiently, urging for him to take the gift a second time, “Quite.”

Jon leaves for a bit after that, returning with a rabbit to make you a dinner to share in his chambers. You two sit close on the floor by the fire and with one heavy blanket draped over your laps. Sipping not the best ale (the Night’s Watch may never fix whatever recipe they have) eating rabbit stew and finally he shares the fudge you gifted him.

“I wish I could… make this better somehow.” He admits softly, partially guilty but mostly content.

“Don’t be daft, this is perfect.” You reassure him, nudging his shoulder.

Jon looks down at where your hand found his. He squeezes your hand tighter and his lip quirks up and suddenly its a much more perfect day.

♡ Sansa Stark ♡

This holiday belongs to her. She owns it, dominates it and if anyone thinks otherwise they’ll be proven wrong every year on the dot. It’s her absolute favorite.

From the moment you wake up to the moment you go to sleep, Sansa is lovingly doting on you. She presents you a new shirt with your house sigil detailedly embroidered onto the sleeves as well as a direwolf over the heart. Such a public claim, the holder of the queen’s heart.

Sansa’s pretty blue eyes go wide when she sees the romantic display you’ve made of her chambers. Candles, rose petals, her favorite meal and, “the sweetest wine for the sweetest lady in the world.” She blushes and giggles, rare to see for anyone other than you.

After dinner you nervously set a tray of lemon cakes in front of her.

“Did you make these?” She asks, delightedly bewildered.

“I attempted. I’ll not—“

Sansa stuffs one into your mouth before taking a bite herself, laughing at the powdered sugar dusting the corner of your lip and cheek. Overnight she clears the tray and her kisses become sickeningly sweet, each one longer and tastier than the last.

♡ Arya Stark ♡

She hates today but she’s silent about it, not dramatic like when she was a child clutching her stomach and faking gags at her parents smooches. Arya’s thoughts on the holiday don’t change with you, why’s only a single day set to appreciate one’s partner when they should do it every day?

Still, she’s sentimental. She marks a map with all the places the two of you have been together and a little note of her favorite memory of that place. Then in a slightly brighter shade of ink she marks places she wants to take you one day.

Arya doesn’t expect anything in return, after all she’s complained about today for so long. So her face is rather priceless when you draw your sword with a smirk. What could be better gift for the adventurer? She hasn’t sparred for fun in… she can’t remember the last time she did!

She beats you, of course, not even her beloved is allowed a single pity-win. You’re both sweaty and panting for air with smiles on your faces when it’s over. Arya pulls you by your cheeks into a breathtaking kiss.

“Thank you,” You whisper when you part, “for being my adventure.”

“That’s awful.” But she laughs, her smile growing wider.

Know that your hers too.

[hiatuswhore]

♕ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʇɐᴚ ʇǝǝɹʇS ǝɥ⊥—ᴀ ɢᴀᴍᴇ ᴏꜰ sǝuoɹɥ⊥

♕ A/N: Ahhh I always get so happy when I complete these little mini stories because I have a terrible habit of not completing them despite have a full story ready to go. Send me any questions you have! I have already been gathering some of them and I am going to do one large overview and answer them all in a post. That will be posted in a few days. Sorry for the wait I didn’t realize how long it had been this definitely could have been ready days ago. Anyhow here is The Prince and the Street Rat—A Game of Thrones, the final chapter—well more like an epilogue.

♕ SUMMARY: The world works in mysterious ways and so does the residents of Kings Landing. One never knows what they find in the alleyways and rooftops. Whores, drunks, knights, thieves, sometimes even Princes.

♕ WORD COUNT: 2.3K

♕ WARNING: None

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♕ TAG LIST: @jasontoddorjasongrace @luluga @mizfortuna @ellathefriendlyalpacaaa @out-of-life @dark-night-sky-99 @graykageyama @lepoulpe-blog @s0urmarvel @singitoutgirl26 @buttercup-beeee @omega-horus @linkpk88 @millies0bsimp @ly17 @hydrationqueensworld @skinmittensgoblin @herfantasyworldd @burningshewolf @reneehillary69 @minttea07

The young Stark walked without words, the taunting words of the Kingslayer still fresh in his mind. His slow gait through the icy corridors muted, offering curt nods to those who pass him. The air somber, the walls knowing. He opens his sister's chamber door without warning, the steel beneath the cloth in his hands nearly weightless.

“Septa Mordane says I have to do it again. My things weren’t properly folded, she says. Who cares how they’re folded. They’re going to get all messed up anyway,” Arya scoffs, throwing a cloak into the wooden case, a deep frown across her features. Jon glances at her white and grey direwolf pacing about, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s good you’ve got help,” He says, his tone low and gruff with a boyish hum, a gentle reminder of his youth. The amusement in his words reaching his sister but likely being lost on a stranger.

“Watch. Nymeria, gloves.” Arya’s frown falls, a smile taking her lips as she squares her shoulders. Nymeria stops in her tracks, taking a seat as she stares with a blank expression. The silence persists for a few seconds before Jon turns back to his sister.

“Impressive,” He says, a smirk ghosting on his lips as Arya tells him to shut up. She tries once more, but Nymeria merely tilts her head. “I have something for you. It has to be packed very carefully.”

“And I you,” Arya says, rushing across the room. She tosses several things onto her bed. A blunted wooden sword, an incomplete knitted cloth with a sloppy direwolf sewn atop, and many parchments. Her grumbles fill the room before a chuckle supplants it before returning before her brother with furs covering her hands. She places it on the bed, nodding toward him, “You go first!”

“Close the door,” Jon instructs, chuckling as Arya practically skips across the room. Her eyes never leave the cloth in his hands. Barring the door, she says no peeking. He removes the fabric, assuring her he will not look as he turns, holding up the dainty steel. Arya beams as she steps forward while Jon removes the sword from its sheath, “This is no toy. Be careful you don’t cut yourself.”

“It’s so skinny,” She takes it from his hand, her eyes traveling up the blade.

“So are you. I had the blacksmith make it for you special. It won’t hack a man’s head off, but it can poke him full of holes if you’re quick enough,” Jon says, smiling as she gently waves it in the air. Her eyes locked upon her sword. She says she can be quick. “You’ll have to work at it every day. How does it feel? Do you like the balance?”

“I think so,” She fiddles with the base before looking up at her older brother. The two with the most Stark likeness besides Bran and Rickon. Jon leans down, placing his hand on the side of Arya’s face.

“First lesson,” His eyes lock with her own he speaks as though a sensitive secret sits between them. Small Arya clinging to his every word, so enthralled she fails to notice the smirk that threatens his lips, “Stick them with the pointy end.”

“I know which end to use,” Arya rolls her eyes as Jon hums a softness to him that the gods would soon wipe from the earth. He leans back up, dropping his hand, taking in every little detail of his sister as his future looms beyond the walls.

“I’m going to miss you,” He says, a silence sitting between the two before she steps forward, arms out wide. Jon flinches back, calling out careful as Arya’s sword swings ahead on his right. Arya places it down on her bed, looking up at her brother before jumping up. Her arms around his neck, he holds her from the ground as the two embraces. Jon mutters, “All the best swords have names, you know.”

“Sansa can keep her sewing needles. I’ve got a needle of my own,” She squeezes Jon a second time. Silence takes the room as the two hold each other. Arya pulls back first, Jon gently placing her back on her feet as she announces she must give him his parting gift. She nudges him to the side, removing the furs revealing a book. The cover shows beautiful sketches of dragons above a skillful drawing of Kings Landing. Jon’s eyebrows furrow, his fingers running over the title, Lady Calamity.

“Do not mistake my confusion for lack of appreciation, but why have you gifted me a book of—Targaryen history, I think?” Jon says, flipping open the cover sits a faded sketch. His eyes bounce over the assiduousness of the drawing. Many people appear to scatter around the couple at the center. A Targaryen cradling a bride in his arms, a dying woman.

“When people speak of the Dance of Dragons, we hear the same names and the same stories. Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, the Black Queen. Prince Aegon Targaryen II, the usurper. Prince Aemond One-Eye, and Princess (Y/n) the beloved. The tales never speak the full truth. This Northern Sept dedicated his life to studying this through journals and parchments at the Citadel. Did you know Princess (Y/n) was a bastard from Flea Bottom?” Arya’s eyes shine with excitement as she speaks with nothing but confidence. Jon’s head snaps from the page to his younger sister, who beams at him. “No one can say for certain the relationship between the Princess and Prince Aemond, but there was a parchment from Queen Alicent to her father of an unbecoming friend of the Prince years before the war. The book believes it was the Princess. Some say they were friends and loved each other, and some believe the Prince to have an obsession. The reports are conflicting, but she is known in history as the third person to die in the Dance of Dragons. Hers and Prince Lucerys’ deaths sparked the war. Aemond one-eye torched Riverlands, the people rioted, and the realm became one of violence.”

Jon's eyes flick to the bottom of the drawing, the words staring back at him. The final moments of Princess (Y/n). The bells rang that of the swan song.

“Who killed her?” Jon asks, his eyes flicking back to the dying Princess. The drawing puts more emphasis on their faces rather than the movement around them.

“No one can really say. Many Septs challenge each other’s recounting of this history. At first, the realm blamed the Black Queen for the assassination of their Princess and the butchering of Aegon the Usurper’s eldest son. Sept Umberais debunked this in his research. While officially, the Black Queen and her forces are still credited, Lord Otto Hightower was executed by his grandson for the murder. It was incorrectly reported that Otto was beheaded during the fall of Kings Landing, but Queen Alicent's private journals reveal otherwise. The book goes into far more detail, but I think you should really read it. Sept Umberais found everything he could on the Princess. A bastard who shaped history. I do not wish you to die shaping history, but I do believe you will do great things, brother.” Arya flips the pages of the book, landing on another sketch, one of a statute. “During all of this madness, a statue was made in the Princess’s honor where she was laid to rest. Many believe her place of rest is one of misfortune if not given the proper reverence. I am going to visit it when I arrive at King's landing. Maybe receive a blessing for our family. Even King Robert was too afraid to desecrate it as he did the other Targaryen emblems.”

Arya flips to the final page, her brother’s eyes widening at the sight. The line work reflects an unmatched talent, the detailing almost intimate. Jon frowns, his chest aching as his eyes study your features. He cannot remove his gaze from the soft smile that nearly negates your forlorn eyes, “Princess (Y/n) Targaryen.”

The departure from Winterfell arrives with a heavy fog of naivety. Every Stark oblivious to the storm cloud lingering high above their home. Jon’s face of stone keeps all who travel around him without an inkling of his thoughts. When the opportunities arise, he opens the book, clinging to every word of the limited information on your life.

He cannot explain it, nor can he shake you from his thoughts. Besides his father, Jon cannot find another name that sparks this move in him. The journey to the wall consists of him wondering if you knew when it all began for you—if he will know. Your stories stay close even within Castle Black. It’s nothing like he imagined and everything Tyrion Lannister warned him of. Many nights, tales of your short life make the cold watches warm and the long days tolerable.

Arya’s journey south, her eyes bounce along the tree lines and hillsides. Her curiosity childlike and eager. Sansa rolls her eyes, sitting with perfect composure, a clear divide between the Stark girls. Their days in Kings Landing persistently absent from the others’ company. Arya walks the corridors picturing moments in history she’s read more times than she can recall. She treats the Red Keep more like a museum than a current resident to many, including herself.

“Must you always talk of a dead Targaryen Princess? Do you not fear slighting the King?” Sansa questions. Arya rolls her eyes, telling Sansa of the crown’s respect for the Princess. Septa stops their bickering, commending Arya’s knowledge while scolding her unladylike behavior.

She focuses on her dancing lessons and fails to convince her father to take her to your statue. Lord Stark, only hums, nodding his head to all her reasons but never answering the question. She’s sure it’s merely amusing to him, a laugh threatening him. The days blend into a smokescreen of routine, blinding the Stark girls from how swiftly the walls around them concave.

Arya’s heart hammers through her body with a ferocity that rattles the entirety of her entire body. She steps out into the road, the ding of the bells and chatter of the streets nearly nauseating. The few who pass her move with urgency leaving her in the dark.

“Hey, where’s everyone going? What’s happening?” She calls out. The two little boys who speed past her skid in their tracks, talking over their shoulder with glee.

“They’re taking him to the Sept of Sorrows!” The boy continues rushing up the stairs, Arya’s inquiry of who almost not reaching his ears, “The hand of the king!”

Arya drops the pigeon from her hand, rushing with the rest of the crowd. A few become many, and the back of their heads becomes her main view. The unfamiliar courtyard does little to halt her movements. She steps onto the side of the statute, not sparing it a single glance as her fathers brought out and escorted through the crowd. The mob screams words of malice, waving their weapons, but Lord Stark’s eyes lock with his daughters. In the group, many faces blend, spitting insults. At the pull of guards, Eddard scans the crowd warily. His eyes land on Yoren, bumping into his chest. He yells, “Sorrows. Sorrows!”

The moments fleeting, and the air stale. Silence consumes the crowd as Eddard’s voice booms throughout the courtyard. The gruffness of his tone clear and paced. Despite his lies to appease the few, the public still grumbles with resentment.

“As we sin, so do we suffer. This man has confessed his crimes in sight of Gods and men. He has confessed his sins before the Sept of Sorrows. He has given reverence to the resting place of a girl given to this world by the Gods. She is a reminder of the poison in treachery but also the failures of acting without mercy. What is to be done with this traitor, your grace?” Arya frowns. She cannot grasp why this occurs here and now. The Queen mother shifts uneasily as the young King grins like a madman. It’s all so wrong.

“My mother wishes me to let Lord Eddard join the Night’s Watch. Stripped of all titles and powers, he would serve the realm in permanent exile. And my lady Sansa has begged mercy for her father. So I bring you all here today. A sad day for a very sad excuse for a man. In this place lies dead a woman who could not be protected by her husband nor her King! Today I mark a new beginning, a King who will protect those deserving, one where no treason shall ever go unpunished. Ser Illyn, bring me his head!” Joffrey’s words fill the ample space, following a roar of excitement like no other. The cries of Sansa and the pleas of Cersei falling on deaf ears as Arya’s eyes sweep the crowd in disbelief. Arya climbs off the statute navigating the crowd with quick feet, her tiny stature bobbing and weaving without pause. It becomes less dodging and more pushing as her throat and eyes burn ceaselessly. A hand wrapping around her wrists, jerking her back, forces a gasp from her lips. Arya squirms to no avail, her father getting further and further away as her vision blurs and refocuses.

“Let me go!” She screams, blocking her view from the front. He forces her head toward the statue. Her struggles do nothing against his rigid grip. The indiscernible chatter of the crowd and Sansa’s screams fill the air. It lasts for seconds before a swift silence sweeps the crowd, and everything stills. Arya grows as straight as a pencil. She stops fighting Yoren’s hold her stare shape. The lump in her throat nearly suffocates as everything numbs. A part of her wants to laugh at what captures her eyes, a sick irony—a cruel one. The blue sapphire gem sparkling and vibrant, unlike the bleak air that lingers.

Princess (Y/n) Targaryen Rivers

[myladysapphire]

Duty

Robb Stark had kept his oath to house Frey and married you as a result allowing him to win the north’s independence however he now has to live with the sacrifices of duty and must find out if duty is truly the death of love.

word count: 3,992

CW: MDI 18+, slight smut, p in v, angst, arranged marriage, infidelity, childbirth, unhealthy dynamic, toxic relationship? open ending, pregancy, not proofread!

Robb Stark x Frey!Reader

Masterlist | part two

dividers by @zaldritzosrose

Duty.

The word rang in your head as you stared at your husband.

He was yours; you were his but as his eyes wandered across the hall you knew he was not entirely yours.

A mere hour into your marriage and you already felt the strain of an unfaithful husband.

The longing looks he gave her form across the room were the looks you had wished to feel.

You were the youngest daughter of Walder Frey and his sixth wife, Bethany Rosby, and though your older sister Roslin was often called beautiful, you were considered beautiful. It was the one-word Robb stark had said when he saw you, the only word he had said to you beside your wedding vows.

He hadn’t even spared you a glance since the ceremony, most of your conversations had been with his mother, Catelyn. She had been kind, having been the one that choose you as his bride. But you knew it was not your beauty that she chose you for, it helped of course, pleasing Robb if only by a little. You were neither smart, cunning or wise. You were simple normal, with no special skills to sway the eyes of suitors or to persuade your husband. She choose you, the often forgotten daughter, with no influence or means to gain any, for that reason alone.

It was clear to anyone the marriage and alliance was an unwanted one. Especially to your husband and the woman he loved.

He did not dance with you once, offering no words beside the necessary pleasantries, the kindest act he seemed to do was forbade the bedding ceremony. Though there was little bedding done that night, though the act was done, he neither spoke a word to her or stayed the night. And from the whispers she heard the next day it seemed he had gone to her swiftly after.

He had left after that, though he did not say goodbye, or offer to write to you. You were simply left with his mother, set to journey to the Winterfell.

The journey as not long, taking less than two weeks before you saw the peak of Winterfell’s towers. It was a wonderful sight, having never left the twins, and rarely being allowed outside. Seeing the castle of Winterfell was a freeing experience. There seemed to be endless halls, some bare and empty allowing the privacy you had never once had in the twins. The god’s woods was even more magnificent than you had expected, it expanded for acres, with endless trees and countless springs waring both the gods woods and the castle. You felt some peace here, but you had also never felt more alone.

You were looked at as an outsider, talked to as one, and it was clear you were unwanted.

As the moons passed, you felt even more alone, you only heard about Robbs victory through his mother, the one person who didn’t talk to you with resentment.

Then you realised you had yet to bleed since your wedding.

And the word duty once again rang in your head.

You were pregnant, a fact that made you seemed more welcome, people were kinder to you. And yet you felt more alone, suddenly surrounded by people who only cared for you know you cared the heir.

The heir to a man you did not know, the heir to a man who scorned you on the day of your wedding for another woman. He didn’t even have the respect to at least act like a loyal husband.

You had done your duty, but he had not.

For it seemed she was also pregnant.

You were far along in your pregnancy, near eight moons when you heard the news. The news that was accompanied by your husband’s victory. And the norths independence. Yet you felt little joy only envy at the news of her pregnancy. Envy that she gets to know him and he never once tried to let you know him, even in the fleeting hours they did have together.

The next month was lively, the keep full of servants and lords from all over the north preparing for their kings arrival. The planning of feasts and several other northern events to be held. And you did not know what to think, you had long craved to know your husband, but he seemed to want to forget you even existed, and even more so when he arrived, with her on his arm and a babe in hers.

You bowed your head, clutching your belly protectively as if their presence would harm the babe somehow, and greeted him “husband.” You spoke plainly, not in joy, nor as a move of possessiveness towards her.

He nodded his head, going to greet you in the same fashion but stopping himself at the sight of your belly. “wife” he said in shock, as if the very idea of you being pregnant or here for that matter was shocking.

You smiled, a forced smile and spoke softly, “come, husband we have much to discuss”

She had stayed put, looking lost among the faces of Winterfell.

Though you had started out a stranger those first few months, after your pregnancy was announced, though you had at first received false pleasantries to win your favour, a time that made you feel even more alone. Now you felt rather comforted by the halls and the people with in it.

You took your time to win over the people inside the walls, though you never felt that you could truly be yourself ,as you did not know entirely who you were anymore, but none the less, you no longer felt like a stranger, even Catelin had even started to heavily involve you into the running of Winterfell, and her kindness became truer to you, even more so when news of your husbands bastard spread.

Your basic and natural kind behaviour had one the loyalty of many of the people of the north as they sneered at her, shunning her away as they welcomed the victors back from war.

And from the kind smiles you received as you walked the halls to your chambers, chambers the lord and lady of Winterfell had traditionally shared. It had not crossed your mind about were you would know sleep. Never having shared the bed with another, not knowing what it is to share a bed, let alone with a man. It was also your belongings that filled the room, your tapestries and art, your nicknacks and clothes. His had either gone with him or remained in his old chambers, but know she supposed he was fully with in his rights to move in and perhaps even throw her out.

She did not know if he weas cruel enough to do so, or kind enough to let her stay. You only knew of him through the view of others, mainly his mother. An opinion you held   with restraint, seeing as what mother would not love her son.

He stared at you awkwardly once you entered the room, the realisation of never once talking alone coming to light for you both.

“your with child?” he asked after a moment.

You snorted “of course” you said “though I doubt you care much, seeing as you already have a babe”

“i…” he looked down ashamed, “I do care, though….though we barley know one another… I am your husband”

You snorted again, “really? And where exactly has my husband been? Not once have you acted like one, the only husbandly act you had done was to take my maidenhead!” you were mad, for so long you had been nice and kind, acting as if you cared not for his actions and now months of anger was finally spilling out of you.

He coughed awkwardly, clearly not expecting you to say something like that, especially as one of the first things you had said to him.

“i…I you are right?” he said, clearly unsure of what exactly to say, “I should have said something to you, told you of Talisa”

Talisa.

So that was her name.

“or at least have waited until after we were- “

“until it wasn’t our wedding day?

“yes” he looked down, “though I… I will admit I do not regret loving her”

Loving her.

Hearing it hurt, though you supposed you had to right to feel hurt.

You huffed, your eyes downcast, “must you admit it so freely? I understand we do not know each other, that you did not want this marriage, but it is our duty, and I…” you took a deep breath, looking up at him “I want respect, I want to be treated like a wife, and not” you couldn’t bring her self to say it, you were a woman scorned, scorned by your husband and yet he was a stranger, and in his eyes you hadn’t earns the respect you deserved. “…not like-“ you didn’t say it, he did.

“Like a duty?” He looked at you, “because that’s all that you are, a duty” he seemed to sneer “I once desired a marriage of love and then I was told I would have to marry a Frey” he hissed the name, ‘at first I hoped to find love with my wife, a wife I would not little say in, then I met her” you knew he didn’t mean you, how could he? “Talisa” he whispered “I love her more than I thought possible, and then I met you.” He shook his head “ you are beautiful, more so than she I will admit that, but I do not love you, and I very much doubt I ever will.”

“Why?” You asked, stopping him before he could saying anything more.

He swallowed “how can i? I do not know you-“

“Then get to know me!” You interrupted, moving closer to him, “we are to have a child of our own soon, do you not want to know its mother?”

He shook his head, “let me finish.” He spoke sternly, causing you to step back again.”I do not know if I want to know you, I have her and she for months was all I needed…” he stopped talking then, looking at you, as if hoping you would interrupt despite his words.

“And now i… she had a babe, our babe, a girl. And perhaps some part of me feels And perhaps some part of me the guilt of loving her, despite my duty to you.”

You shook your head, “I am your wife, you should feel more-“ you clutched your belly in pain, as a contraction hit.

 “are you alright?” He asked moving to you.

“I have been having them all day, it is nothing to worry about” you said as you shook it off only to be hit with another contraction.

“Are they meant to come that close together?” He asked worry clear in his voice.

You sneered “I don’t know you’re the one with a bastard, weren’t you there went she gave birth?”

“I… no we haven’t been together since the wedding”

You laughed “oh Im so sorry our marriage was such a inconvenience for your mistress”

He said nothing at that, leading you to believe that perhaps he wanted to continue his relationship with her and she was the one to stop it.

“I’ll fetch the midwives” he spoke suddenly, leaving before you could say anything.

Soon you were on your bed, a midwife between your legs telling you to push.

It was just you and them, woman you had never met, wishing you had met your mother so that she could be here for you and not strangers.

And it seemed the gods were cruel as they sent her in, she walked in saying she was a healer and was simply there to help, and by the worried looks the midwives gave her it seemed you needed it.

She went to touch you, and you flinched back.

“No” you whispered.

“The babe is breached” she said hoping to sway you, but the constant shaking of your head caused her to bite her lip a concerned look filling her face “I have experienced with breached briths, I can help you” she insisted.

“No” you simply said again, but this time she ignored your pleas, moving to sit on the bed and take your hand in hers.

You tried to pull your hand back but she only held on tighter, and leaned in.

“Please let me help you” she begged “neither of us want to be in this situation and I am only trying to help you”

“What so the gods aren’t cruel on you as they have been on me?”

She laughed “sort of I suppose, but also because I have caused you enough pain and wish to mend it.”

You looked at her, she was sincere, it seemed she too hated the situation they were both in, trapped feeling like the other woman, “fine” you gritted out.

She nodded “I need to move the babe” she said placing her hand on your belly and started to turn the babe.

The pain was terrible, the want to push and being unable to and the feeling of you babe moving inside of you, and then finally she said you could push, after that is was swift, and before you knew it cries filled the room, and your baby was placed in your arms, a boy, an heir.

“Congratulations” Talisa breathed, “he looks just like you” she said softly, you smiled nodding you head. He did, he lacked all the Tully features Robb ware, though it was clear the stark genes that skipped him wen to the babe, as he had a tuft of Black hair, and a part of you hoped for the grey eyes most Starks bore. But other than that he was every bit yours, your eyes and nose, he was all you.

“Should we fetch the king?” A midwife asked, and you shook you head,

“no, he knows I am here, let him come to me.” You said, as Talisa went to stand, “thank you,” you whispered.

She smiled “just because we are tied in the same way does not mean we must hate one another” she said, looking at you kindly, and you hoped she was right, because you hated the envy you felt towards her.

“We shall speak on this soon, but for now I shall rest” you said, focusing your attention back on your son.

“Of course,” she nodded. Leaving the room.

Robb did not visit you for ten days. No one did really.

It was just you and your son, Cregan. A stark name, though not a common one, you may know little history but the little you did know was about the dance of the dragons, and about Cregan stark. He was your honourable and loyal, traits you would raise your son with.

“Hello” you heard suddenly, as you Cregan was placed in your arms.

It was robb.

“Finally come to meet your child?” You sneered.

“I apologise” he whispered, coming towards you and looking down at your child. “I had matters to deal with”

“of course” you nodded not that you could see how he had not once found the time to visit you and your child.

“I here you named him Cregan” he spoke, softly smiling down at your son.

“yes, I thought it to be a good stark name.”

He nodded, caressing the babes head. “I had hoped to name him Eddard, or Ned…. After my father” he said softly.

“Was that what you were going to name your daughter had she been a boy?” You asked, though your tone was neither dripped with envy or anger, you had said it so nonchalantly, as if you cared not for the answer.

Both the question and your behaviour confused him, he did not know what to make of you, your personality, or how to even start a marriage with you. Or even if he wanted to have one with you. “Yes” he mumbled, “though we ended up naming her Minisa, after my mothers mother” he spoke with such a tenderness, and you realised you could never compete with her, no matter how kind she was, you hated her.

Hated that she was the only reason you could never know your husband, who he was and what he liked. How he looked when you woke up beside him or how it felt for him to hold you lovingly. Your heart broke at the future you would never have.

“Leave” you demanded, pulling Cregan away from Robb. As if Robb being close to him would hurt him the same way Robb being apart from you, had hurt you.

“What?” He asked in alarm.

“I can’t do this” you said, “I can’t, every moment of our marriage has been shadowed by here, I am your wife, not her”

“gods, I know that, and I hate it” he angry spoke back, “we both know neither of us had a choice in who we marry!”

“but you have a choice in who you love, why not try and love me!”

“Because you’ll never be her” He pulled back completely, “I do not want to know you, I only ever wanted her and I will only ever choose her.”

“then leave!” you spoke as tears fell down your face, “I will move out and into one of your over holdings as soon as I am able, and we will not have to put up with this farce any longer”

“good.”

And just like that any hope for a marriage was lost, your son would only know your face and not his fathers for years to come.

As the years passed your rarely saw your husband. With Cregan now five, all hopes of giving him another sibling had disappeared, as you and Robb could scarcely spend longer than a few minutes in a room together.

And though Cregan got along well enough with his siter, Minisa, a part of you resented her. Resented how she was Robbs whole world and Cregan wasn’t.

perhaps it was because you had pushed him away so thoroughly.

That your relation to his heir caused him to resent your son in turn.

And perhaps he hated you more now that Talisa had passed.

The birth of their second child had killed both mother and babe.

Robb had raged.

For months he seemed to only act in anger.

And then it all stopped.

He seemed to return to normal, expect he know insisted he do his duty to you.

Duty.

You hated the word.

Especially as you lay now on the bed, his cock thrusting in and out of you and your moans filling the room.

There was no emotion but hate in the way he fucked you. As if you were the very reason for her death.

As if you were the guilty one in the marriage, when all you had ever done was your duty. As if you existing had caused her death, as if you had killed her and not the winter sickness.

He seemed to fuck you as if you had killed her, pounding into you at a relentless pace.

There was no part about it that could make it seem like he was making love to you.

Not as he bent you over a desk, or pushed you to the floor and hicked up your dress.

Or as he barged into your room as your maids were preparing you for bed, dismissed them and instantly started fucking you.

You hated it. But you also loved it.

Hated how gave you every opportunity to top him, and not once had you.

You happily let him fuck you.

Enjoying the touch of your husband.

The pleasure of sex.                     

“fuck” he groaned as he came, releasing you from his vice like grip.

He rested his head against yours, catching his breath.

It was rare he fucked you on your back, often choosing you to face away from him as he fucked you.

You pulled back from him awkwardly, waiting for what always happened next.

Him leaving.

But this time he didn’t leave.

Perhaps it was because it had been over a year since her death, over a year since her name was mentioned.

Perhaps he had somehow forgiven you for whatever crime you had committed against him in his head.

He had been more…pleasant?

He had been able to spend time in your company without shouting or yelling at you for no reason.

He had had spent more time with his son, though perhaps that had been because you had taken his daughter under your care.

It hurt almost to care for her but apart of you loved her. Having always wanted a daughter for yourself, and for so long believing you would only ever have your son, Cregan. She was the image of her father, with little trace or her mother on her features. She was quite and shy though she liked you. Perhaps it was because Talisa had always been kind to you, at least to your face.

“the maester tells me you are pregnant” he spoke, as he moved to lie beside you.

“what?” you asked in shock. You had only just found out for yourself this morning.

He sighed, turning to look at you, “he said you were pregnant, about three moons” he said as he moved to make himself comfortable in your bed. “i..yes I am…I only just found out this morning”

“as did I”

It was awkward, neither of you knew how to talk to the other. Neither of you had cared to try until now.

you too moved to make yourself comfortable, tucking your self into bed, and turning your back to him. He sighed before moving towards you, blowing out the candle and wrapping his arms around your waist.

“what are you doing?” you asked.

“sleeping with my wife” he said as if it was obvious. You had never shared a bed with a man, and feeling him pressed against you felt strange. It wasn’t comforting, nor was it uncomfortable.

“oh”

“oh?” he mimicked.

“why?”

“well…we are husband and wife it is time we started acting as such”

You huffed, “ we have been husband and wife for nearly six years now and not once have you slept in my bed.

“well that’s going to change” he said, and before you knew it you were both fast asleep.

The next few months had been so different from the previous years.

Though you had not stopped your previous duties as lady of Winterfell. It seemed now with Robb instant on being a dotting husband you had more duties.

He had moved into your chambers, though you supposed they were rightfully his.

He insisted on taking all your meals together, walking in the gods woods every day together.

He had become kind, and for those few moons you thought perhaps you could grow to tolerate his misgivings and be husband and wife.

Then he called you, “Talisa”

He had said it in passing, not even noticing it at first. And then he saw how your froze and realised his mistake.

He had sighed your name in apology.

But you had ignored him. And realised that perhaps it would be better, not to have hope that you were more than a duty to Robb.

That to him you would never be her. Never be the wife he wanted, only his duty.

It didn’t matter how much he liked to play pretend. Giving you flowers and sweet kisses on your cheek. Deep down you knew you could never forgive him, never find the love and happiness you had long craved, that you deserved.

That you would be a wife of duty, and love was always the death of duty, and duty is the death of love.

And he would never stop loving her.

authors note: this took me 3 weeks to write because i couldn’t figure out to make it have a happy ending. it was far to angsty and i couldn’t justify her forgiving him.

taglist

@now-i-have-a-new-obsession @apollonshootafar @flrboyd @theanxietyqueen17 @dark-night-sky-99 @zillahvathek @leavesmealobe @winter-soldier-101 @bunbunbl0gs @ka1afbr @tesha-i-guess @aemondwhoresworld RAYNETARGARYEN2 @littlebirdgot @eddieslut69 @beebeechaos

to be added to taglist

[cdragons]

❄︎ House Stark & Spicy Food ❄︎ - w/ spicy loving reader

Cries if there's too much pepper:

All of them, Sansa and Robb - these two will actually die if they have the slightest sense of heat to any food they try. Like their hair, they get it from their mother.

Robb will try so hard to pretend that he has any spice tolerance...he doesn't...he REALLY doesn't

This boy wants to impress you so badly while also dying and you are not being very helpful bc you keep laughing at how red his face gets

You didn't even put that much in, it was barely a dash of cayenne or one jalapeno seed and he will DIE

If you ever try to put spice in his dishes, he will look at you with the biggest look of betrayal

Redding Wedding what? Nope, the real, most unforgivable act of treason against this King of the North was putting a ghost pepper in his stew after he pissed you off and drinking all his water to make sure that there wasn't any left near him.

Are the two of you married? Does not matter - off to the dungeons with you.

Okay, not really, but he will be seriously pissed and have a huge pouty face for the rest of the week.

He feels even more betrayed when he sees Grey Wind sleeping next to you after you put the pepper in his food.

"Are you on my side or hers?" - Grey Wind is on Team Cuddles and Being Spoiled.

If you end up eating something too spicy for you, he WILL be the most insufferable person about it

Sansa is literally no different, if not worse, than her brother.

Everything that was written above -> multiply that by 10000 in terms of spice intolerance, and you get Sansa.

She does NOT care about impressing you with improving her spice tolerance.

You could try to convince her that spicy food is better for her body and there are a ton of health benefits, but you will FAIL

You once gave her a Cubanelle pepper (About 1,000 SHU) bc the only less spicy option was a bell pepper and bell peppers are only peppers in name and not in spirit

She did not react well

She RAN 🏃‍♀️ to the well and drank the water out of the pail.

...Was it bad that you laughed at her reaction? Yes

Would you do it again? Also, yes

Was it totally worth being banned from nighttime cuddles and kisses for an entire month?...Okay, maybe you won't do it again

You could make fun of her unseasoned potatoes and closer-to-water soup all you want. She is not interested in damaging her stomach lining and developing stomach cancer.

She WILL make fun of you if you end up eating something too spicy for YOU, and you let her because you love seeing her more childish smile and side.

Slightly Dying, but Otherwise Okay and Kind of Digs It:

Jon can eat spicy foods...theoretically.

He's eaten Wilding food and the rotten food from Castle Black -> compared to that, he can take a little heat.

He was wrong - He was so very, VERY wrong. Your level of heat and spice was something that only a demon could take.

Jon was convinced that you were part dragon bc he can't think of any other reason as to how and WHY you put yourself through this?

Eventually, he DOES develop a bit of spice tolerance, and you take full credit for it, especially because this means his taste palette is more on your level. You aren't as afraid of accidentally killing him with your cooking preferences.

But it ends up lowkey backfiring on him bc you won't stop sneaking spicy food into his meals, and sometimes Tormund and his brothers in Black will sneak a bite off his plate (no one died...everyone lives...shhhhhhhhh)

Sam is dead - he died, you killed him. Gilly is officially out for your blood, and little Sam is raised with the single goal of piercing you with a pointy stick bc you killed his dad.

Pyp and Edd are also lowkey dying. Still, they actually enjoy the heat and are always happy to taste test for your dishes...despite their bowels hating them for it

Grenn and Tormund fucking LOVE the heat. They can easily down bowl after bowl after bowl of your cooking.

Bran SHOULD not eat spicy food...but he does because it makes you so happy, and he will literally do anything for your smile and cuddles.

Like his love of climbing and scary stories, he honestly lives for the thrill of taking the heat.

All of his siblings are terrified he's going to get a stomach ulcer one day because he keeps adding more spice to his food, and they are ALL blaming you, and you're just like ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

While he's traveling with Osha, Hodor, Rickon, and Reed Siblings, it's your cooking that helps keep them warm.

When he becomes the Three-Eyed Raven and King of the Seven Kingdoms, he and you will go to the kitchens to make your favorite dishes from your shared past because it brings a little of the old Bran back.

It's only around you that he can still smile and laugh, and you love him no matter what.

Love Spicy Food and Can ACTUALLY Take it

Arya LOVESSSSS the heat - All Day, Everyday Baby

While she was in Braavos and training in the House of Black and White, she sampled so many dishes and spices from the markets.

This opened a whole new world to her tastebuds, and when she returned to Winterfell - she still loved the food because it was all the food of her childhood, but it just tasted...boring.

You and her actually met while she was training in Braavos, and your family ran a spice stall in one of the markets.

You were fascinated by the girl and always offered a warm meal and housing if she ever needed it. While cooking for her, Arya would tell you stories about Ned and Jon and all her other siblings.

When she reunited with her family at Winterfell, she thought it was adorable how happy and excited you were to meet them. She also highly encouraged you to share one of your spiciest dishes with them.

Bran didn't have much of a reaction save for a small cough, but Jon immediately reached for his water while Sansa just fainted from the shock of the heat assault in her mouth.

Rickon is the only sibling who can actually eat your food and so he automatically becomes your favorite Stark after Arya.

Rickon and you met while traveling with your siblings (Meera and Jojen) to find Bran. You carried many foreign spices with you (for whatever reason).

Immediately, he was smitten with you because you were the youngest sibling around his age. Shaddydog also loved you from the beginning, which helped your case.

A lot of the spices you carried also had medicinal purposes, so you were in charge of cooking while Meera handled the weapons and Jojen helped guide Bran to the 3ER.

It was during the coldest and most freezing blizzard nights, you used one of your hottest spices to make a stew. It was a miracle by fate that Rickon LOVED it.

Since then, he's always begging you to put hotter spices in the meals, but you refuse bc your spices are expensive and because you don't want to accidentally kill the rest of the "Save The World" Gang.

Shaddydog is a huge issue when you're making food because he's very curious about all the different smells and tastes, and you have to keep booping his nose out of the way because you love adding garlic, and it's not good for canines to eat garlic and salt.

*BONUS*

Catelyn - cannot eat anything spicy for the life of her

Ned - same as his wife, tbh lol

[fromstormsend]

“No hammerblow to the heart could have felled her half so hard.”

“The hammer was like part of his arm. She watched the play of muscles in his chest and listened to the steel music he made.” -A Clash of Kings - Arya IX

“As the swish of oars faded, she could almost hear the beating of her heart. Suddenly she was somewhere else . . . back in Harrenhal with Gendry.” -A Feast for Crows - Arya I

She dreamed of Gendry because her heart’s beats recalled Gendry’s hammer beats, the music he made with steel. And when Brienne first saw Gendry she thought he is Renly and get excited and characterized her feelings with “hammerblow” image. Even she didn’t know he is a blacksmith at this point. It is something Arya can say about Gendry actually :)

[spookyscaryfox]

the stark sibs tendency for falling for traitors if you're willing to tweak interpretation and squint. oh, robb with his squid boyfriend who sold him out for possibility (!) of daddy's attention. oh, jon who fell for littlefinger's spy. oh, sansa and her dog who didn't stay when she needed him. oh, arya and her stubborn bull who sees the monstrosity of her mother and yet does nothing. oh, bran and meera who will have to choose between a friend and brother.

[fromtheseventhhell]

Speaking of Arya fancasts ☝️🤓 Netflix’s Ronja Rövardotter looks like a pretty good Arya fc to me especially for when she has short hair

Oh, I definitely see it. The short hair really sells it and I really love imagining Arya with curly hair. This picture in particular fits so well to me; that's literally ACOK/ASOS Arya while she was traveling through the riverlands.

[bunbunbl0gs]

Modern Arya 🔪

masterlist

game of thrones masterlist

[gazpachoandbooks]

I can't believe Brandon Stark rode up to his enemy's fortress and yelled at him to "come out and die" and that sentence is never spoken about ever??? As if it isn't the coolest most badass thing in the world???? I'm starting a petition to make it a family tradition. I want every single starkling yelling this at the top of their lungs at least once. I'm cheering them on already

[valaenatargaryensdragon]

Arya Stark Masterlist

To join my taglist

Kinktober 2023-2024

Requests: Open

Arya Stark:

Aesthetic:

One Shots:

Requests:

[lovebaela]

THE DRAGON OF THE NORTH - MASTERLIST

(Bran Stark x Fem!Targaryen OC)

A/N - Not gonna lie yall, I’m more productive with this story on Wattpad 😭😭 I think I might stick with posting on there instead. The chapters I’ve posted here have been slightly changed there too. I’ll put the link of it below.

https://www.wattpad.com/story/367425499?utm_source=ios&utm_medium=link&utm_content=share_writing&wp_page=create&wp_uname=lovebaela

“ 𝑰 𝒂𝒎 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒐𝒏 , 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝑶𝒍𝒅 𝑽𝒂𝒍𝒚𝒓𝒊𝒂 𝒇𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒆 , 𝒊 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒕𝒏’𝒕 𝒃𝒆 𝒂𝒇𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒅 .”

⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 𝑹𝑯𝑨𝑬𝑳𝑳𝑨 𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑮𝑨𝑹𝒀𝑬𝑵 ⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Rhaella is the daughter of Mad King Aerys’ younger brother. Before the rebellion of Robert Baratheon, he fled to the Summer Isles, where he fell in love with a woman. He married her and they both consummated their marriage. Rhaella doesn’t know much about her parents, and always struggled with having a true home. One fateful day, her cousin Viserys sent her away to the Starks. Little did he know, that was the start of her journey of self-discovery.

“ 𝑰 𝒂𝒎 𝒂 𝑺𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒌 , 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑭𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝑴𝒆𝒏 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒆 , 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆’𝒔 𝒏𝒐 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒂𝒇𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒅 . 𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒔 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑰 𝒂𝒎 𝒎𝒆𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒅𝒐 .”

⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 𝑩𝑹𝑨𝑵 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑲 ⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Bran is the fourth child of Eddard Stark and Catelyn Tully. All he ever wanted was to become a knight. He always thought one day he would join the kingsguard. That was until the day he found out he was betrothed to Rhaella. He didn’t think much of it, still able to be a warrior…until the day he became broken. All he wants is to find a purpose now in his life.

✮ ₊ Chapters ✧ ᵔ₊ 𓆪

1, 2, 3, 4

Disclaimer: I don’t own asoiaf, any pictures, or gifs that I use in the series🤍

Art by eleneyaart, fredrickruntu

Dividers by @saradika-graphics @saradika

Taglist: @lover-of-books-and-tea

[daenystheedreamer]

theon is the worst roomate you could ever have never cleans always late on rent steals your shit literally roomate from hell. robb is a bad roommate but only because hes dating theon which means theon freeloads at the apartment hes like actually an okay roommate its just his boyfriend is the worst. jon is a nice roommate he facetimes his dog and always wears headphones. sansa okay roommate but shes living out a small-girl-in-the-big-city fantasy and is romanticising literally every aspect which means she’s always sighing and staring dramatically out the window and she’s annoyingly nepo wealthy. arya second worst roommate cos she listens to music on full blast and sneaks her dog in and fights with the landlord but she knows all the cool places in the city and will beat anyone you want up no question and will never snitch. you would never see bran if he was your roommate hes like a ghost one day you get up at 3am for a glass of water and hes smoking bog swamp weed in the dark with the two identical haunted-eyed bohemians in frog bucket hats

[solenmin]

arya through the years (+ some friends)

[poisonsage808]

♡ Flowers ♡

w/ dany, sansa, arya, brienne and margaery w/ gender neautral reader

(A/N: everyone in this is 18+, we’re not gonna look into the timeline of that like we’re not gonna look into the fact some flowers just aren’t available in certain areas lmao)

♡Daenerys♡

• She’s probably already been given every flower ever known to man, you tell yourself before you can round the corner and greet the dragon queen

• Discouraged, you turn back around only to almost bump into Missandei who smiles, “Are those for the khaleesi?” she asks pointing to the tray in your hand

• Lemon hibiscus cookies with the edges rolled into sugar crystals sat on a meticulously detailed plate

• The idea seemed good some hours ago while you were making them.. and a few months ago when the idea came to you in the first place (It took a while to get everything together and even longer to quiet your nerves about it)

• “No— I mean, yes but she didn’t ask for them and it’s so close to—“

• Missandei is smart, she’s nudging you onto the balcony where Daenerys is watching her dragons fly, “Khaleesi, you have a visitor.”

• The queen’s smile has you go rigid and your grip on the tray tightens as you offer it to her with a bowed head

• “What an interesting combination. How did you make it purple?”

“Hibiscus flowers, your grace. I-I dried the petals and made them into a powder.”

• Missandei fights back a smile while informing the queen it takes two weeks to dry out flowers and how purple hibiscus flowers haven’t bloomed in two months

• “You’ve put quite a bit of time into these then?” Daenerys asks. You nod, cheeks rosy under her gaze

• She takes another bite and doesn’t hide the smirk that tugs at her lip, “I think I’ll need to bring you with me when I cross the sea. I’ll miss your pastries too much to leave you here.”

♡Sansa♡

• The last time she was given a flower it was by a Tyrell and it was so long ago she can’t recall which it was or if the act was genuine. It probably wasn’t, she tells you

• So you devoted hours in the library, left before the sun rose and returned when it was falling

• You waited patiently to catch a moment of the queen’s busy day and blush when she comments on your absence. “I’ve been looking for you, they told me your horse was gone before anyone woke.”

• Sansa’s stoic expression falters when you present one long stem with purple blooming flowers from behind your back, “They’re gladiolus— gl-gladioli? They represent strength, integrity and remembrance.. and so do you, your grace.”

• You just meant to give her a happier memory, a true gesture of adoration, not make her cry!

• When Sansa tears up you frantically apologize but she wraps her arms around your neck and pulls you into a tight hug

♡Arya♡

• Ladies are given flowers and Arya Stark is not a lady so you’ll have to be subtle with the gesture as well as unconventional

• Gift it to her in private

• A leather bracelet with lilies engraved on the underside; a flower associated with rebirth. It seemed fitting and Arya agrees, asking you to tie it on for her

• She wears it proudly every day and waves to you with the hand that displays it, sometimes with a wink like it’s a secret between the two of you

♡Brienne♡

• She’s never gotten flowers before and you debate for a long time if it would offend her or not… You decide to find out and ask forgiveness later should that be the case

• After she’s completed her duties for the night, you approach just before she retires to her chambers

• As always, Brienne smiles politely and nods at you, greeting you and saying your name so sweetly your knees wobble a bit. It mattered not if the day she had was long and tiring, she asks if she can help you with something

• “You could take this off my hands,” You laugh nervously as you hold out the single stem with many white flowers, “I hear they call it a fallen star.”

• Astrantia, a symbol of protection, strength and courage

• Brienne’s lips part and a blush erupts on her cheeks as she holds it closer to her face, “No one’s ever given me flowers.” she almost whispers

• “I’ll consider myself the luckiest person alive to be the first, and everyone else a fool for not doing it sooner.”

• She keeps those flowers until they wilt but before then, you’ve given her more and her words of thanks slowly become kisses instead

♡Margaery♡

• Y’know what’s a worse idea than giving a Tyrell a rose? Giving the cruel, boy king’s intended a rose

• You have to be much, much more clever than that. Luckily, the woman you fancy speaks the language of flowers

• Yellow mums are placed on her seat and you watch from a distance as she cautiously looks around in genuine surprise. A secret admirer

• That same look and those gorgeous eyes once again scan the area some days later when she’s handed a drink with marigold sticking over the rim of the glass

• “Is something the matter?” Someone asks her. You turn away just when she catches you watching from a distance. Margaery shakes her head with a bright blush on her cheeks, “Not at all.”

• There’s a red rose in your room that night, and being held by the queen to be. She smiles and says, “I was hoping they were from you.”

• Y’know what’s stupider than accepting a rose from the king’s betrothed? Kissing her until both your lips are bruised