#I’m always down to talk Sansa

[polysucks]

I’m dead serious when I say I want you fuckers to fill my ask box with the most deranged asoiaf takes you have. It can be contextless. I don’t care. Square up. Bring your a game. I wanna smell ur depravity through the screen.

Send me ur au ideas and headcanons. Send me ur whack ass theories about Harrenhal. Do you love Sansa stark as much as I do? Do you still hate her in 2024? If you do, tell me about how your mother dropped you on your head as a child.

Who is the top? Rhaenyra or Alicent? And why is it Alicent? Tell me about Miku Binder Aemond.

Tell me why Joffrey deserves to be on the throne, and how you got severe brain damage while you’re at it.

Tell me why Theon Greyjoy lives in your head rent free. Ask me why I wanna peg Ramsay Bolton, or Tywin Lannister.

Tell me how tight you think Jaime’s hole is. Can Jaime Lannister beat Hermione Granger WITHOUT a Valyrian steel sword?

Do you have an asoiaf OC blorbo that you just need to gush about? (Please)

Do you love georg railroad martin? Do you hate him? Wanna peg him, too?

My ask box. Open 24/7. I dare you.

[daenerysstormreborn]

Time to ramble. I’m thinking about the way Arya and Sansa fans seem to get into this debate about who was more lonely and neglected in Winterfell. Which is kind of funny because then the arguments get totally reversed when debating other aspects of the characters. But anyway. The general arguments seem to be:

1. Arya was clearly the neglected outcast. This is clear in the meta narrative because of her connection to Jon and the fact that she doesn’t look like her true born siblings. The more direct evidence comes from the way Sansa and Jeyne teased her, the harshness of Septa Mordane, and Catelyn’s exasperation. It can be inferred that Arya feels a sense of insecurity wrt to her family ties as she wonders if her own mother would want her back after everything that happened. It can be assumed that she was a bit of an outcast based on her disinterest in the things expected of her as a girl, and we see the way many characters look down upon non-conforming women and girls in-universe. Sansa, on the other hand, receives praise from her mother and the septa and has two named close friends in Winterfell. She happily conforms to what is expected of her as a highborn girl and we can assume she would fit in in Winterfell.

2. Sansa was clearly the neglected outcast. This is clear in the meta narrative because she is the only one to lose her direwolf, which is the family symbol. The more direct evidence comes from contrast with Arya, whom Sansa observes can “make friends with anybody,” seemingly in contrast to herself. Ned agreed to kill Lady despite knowing she was innocent and indulged Arya’s interest in swordplay whilst being unenthusiastic about indulging Sansa’s interest in tourneys. Arya is demonstrated to be beloved by Ned’s men in a way we do not observe with Sansa. We can assume that Sansa didn’t feel like she belonged because of her interest in sothron culture, something none of her siblings share. Arya, on the other hand, is extroverted, makes friends easily, is northern in appearance, and has no interest in sothron culture, so we can assume she fit in in Winterfell.

I actually don’t think a lot of the points in the two arguments is mutually exclusive. We also have to remember POV bias. Arya doesn’t reflect on Any friends her age she had at Winterfell (I am not including Mycah because I am under the impression they became friends on the way to King’s Landing), but Arya is not one to reflect and reminisce. Sansa notices that Arya can make friends with anyone, but she doesn’t experience Arya’s inner world. What does Sansa mean by making friends? Does she see Arya having fun and being at ease talking to anyone and feel envy, since she herself feels like is performing, always minding her manners, when she’s socializing with most people? Could it be that Arya is friendly but struggles to find long term close friends like Jeyne and Beth, attributing this disparity to Sansa’s “ladylike” interests? Could it be that being teased by Sansa and her friends and scolded by Catelyn and Mordane has made Arya assume that other girls wouldn’t be interested in close friendship with her, causing her to be friendly but keep a certain distance? (**please note I am not trying to make a case for nlog Arya. I think keeping a distance because you assume you’ll be rejected is different and does not require that she looks down upon other girls, because there is no evidence for that here**)

I don’t have a good conclusion I just think it’s interesting that this is something that gets debated because the truth is probably somewhere in the middle. We can’t know because we get very few flashbacks and the story picks up when their normal lives in Winterfell end. I can’t speak to George’s intentions but if we pretend they’re real people I’d speculate that both would have felt misplaced within Winterfell at times, envying certain traits about the other

[kellyvela]

Here more losers and delulus obsessively trying to hype an irrelevant character, to add to your list:

SEAN BEAN:

Who would you want to see on the Iron Throne at the end of the series?

Sansa would be good, because she’s my daughter. Either her or Arya.

—Sean Bean

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KIT HARINGTON:

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MAISIE WILLIAMS:

Who do you think deserve to win the game of thrones

Sansa Stark. I think she would be an incredible ruler. And I think that she is like just so true and so honest, she has learnt so much. And I think she would be an incredible ruler of Westeros.  

—Maisie Williams

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Who do you think should end up on the Iron Throne when all is settle down?

Sansa Stark. I think Sansa is just the most incredible character. And I think she has learnt so much. And I think the world would be a better place with Sansa Stark on the Iron Throne. 

—Maisie Williams

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ISAAC HEMPSTEAD WRIGHT:

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RICHARD MADDEN:

He does, however, have a Season 8 prediction with regard to Turner’s character, Sansa Stark. “People thought she was weak and wilty,” he says, “but she’s our mother’s daughter, you know....”

—Richard Madden

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HANNAH MURRAY:

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JOHN BRADLEY:

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GWENDOLINE CHRISTIE:

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PILOU ASBÆK:

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JACOB ANDERSON:

I think Sophie and Sansa are badasses.

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EMILIA CLARKE:

And so I need to be like: ‘Can I braid your hair, Sansa?

—Emilia Clarke

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HBO: 

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BRYAN COGMAN:

BRYAN COGMAN: In the pilot, Sansa’s main function was informing members of her family and the audience that the only thing she wanted was to get out of Winterfell and go live in the big city and become queen—except a very different kind of queen than the one she ended up being. So Sansa’s storyline was always meant to have a note of triumph at the end, especially after all that she went through in the middle of the series. It was appropriate that she came full circle at the end. She was the only Stark left in Winterfell and leads the North into this new chapter. She’s the best hope for the North’s future.

—Fire Cannot Kill a Dragon: Game of Thrones and the Official Untold Story of the Epic Series by James Hibberd

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GRRM:

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BONUS:

JESSICA CHASTAIN:

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[kitnjon]

I would love if you could recommend some newer modern Jonsa fics!!!!

Hi anon, Sure! Some modern AU's I am reading/read this year

You tend the ash, and I’ll tend the pine by @eruherdiriel

“Are we really never gonna talk about it?” Arya snaps. “We’re all gonna pretend everything is normal and happy when Sansa just got divorced?” “Statistically, it is normal,” Bran says. “The divorce rate is something like—” “It’s not normal! Not for this family, and not for Sansa. True love, forever and always, that’s Sansa.” “Jon isn’t the person she married,” Catelyn chides. “Not anymore.” — Sansa and Jon get divorced, but fully untangling their lives is impossible.

2. all eyes on us by @theshipshipper

Sansa is one of the biggest popstars on the planet, Jon is among the top streamers in Westeros -- and the internet goes wild when their well-hidden connection is uncovered.

3. frozen pines by @cellsshapedlikestars

It hits Jon, then - the sharp smell of ozone. A scent that years ago, he’d become all too familiar with. The aftermath of a lightning strike, the burning of wires. Electricity heavy in the air. The hair on his arms still stands on end. The scar on his hand feels tight. His heart is still pounding. It’s just a storm coming, he tells himself. He’s in White Harbor, not Eastwatch. It’s just a storm. or, the Exclusion Zone spreads for the first time in almost fifty years, with Sansa trapped inside. Jon will do whatever it takes to get her out.

4. tell me, what's the perfect time? by @prclainivrysteel

"I'm Jon," he reaches out for a handshake, "I probably should've led with that." "Yeah, probably," she replies, fighting against the goofy-looking smile that threatens to take over her face, "I'm Sansa." She slips her hand into his. His fingers are calloused, but the way he touches her is gentle. The cold press of his rings sends a pleasant shudder down Sansa's body, making her toes tingle. Jon softly repeats her name. The tips of his ears are red, most likely from the chilly, September winds. He looks away for a brief moment, as if gathering his thoughts, before meeting her gaze once more. "That’s pretty."

5. how she died by @cellsshapedlikestars

She's buried on a cold, dreary day in late January. That’s all Jon can seem to think about at the funeral. It’s too cold, the sky is too grey. Bleak and barren; there isn’t even snow. It’s an inane, intrusive thought. It could rain, at least, he thinks. The sky should weep for her. The universe should mourn. It doesn’t make sense. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t understand why anyone would murder Sansa Stark.

6. i'm on fire by @cellsshapedlikestars

“Okay,” she says, voice shaking. “I’ll do it. I’ll order an escort.” “Are you sure?” Randa asks, eyes wide like she doesn’t think Sansa is. It only makes Sansa’s teeth grind together. “Yes, I’m sure,” she grits out. If Harry wants an open relationship, she’s going to give it to him.

7. trojan horse by @cellsshapedlikestars

He’s only known her for an hour, but he’s pretty sure he’s in love with her.

8. Attorney–Client Privilege by @kit-kat21

No one in her family had ever done this before. Her parents were true soulmates. Sansa hated to admit that she partially blamed them for giving her such high expectations of marriage and love. Her brother and his wife, Jeyne (Westerling), had just celebrated their twelfth wedding anniversary. None of her grandparents, aunts or uncles had ever been divorced. Sansa Stark was the first in her whole family to have this distinct honor. So there was no one she could ask for help or advice. When she told her parents that she wanted to file first, Ned and Catelyn did what they did with all of their children when one of them came to them. They dove right in and helped the best they could. Googling divorce lawyers seemed to be the only thing they could do and from there, they read reviews because just like restaurants and hair salons, divorce lawyers were online-reviewed, too.

9. snow angels by @kingsansa

He finds, as the hairs on the back of his neck rise, as his heart completely fucking nosedives, that her voice is lower than he remembers, but unmistakable all of the same. Sansa Stark stands in the hallway of his shitty, hole-in-the-wall, egregiously outdated bar; unmistakable.

10. Later Nights by @justadram

Her husband, Jon Snow, might be in his off-season--blessedly. But with the Summer Olympics around the corner, her late-night Olympic show producer, Tyrion Lannister, hasn't forgotten about the unlikely Team USA star and their recording-setting ratings in 2022. He has his sights set on a triumphant rematch between the newlyweds any way he can get it.

11. We Run the Gamut (Let's Run Away) by @hilarychuff

Boy and girl meet. Live parallel lives. And, one day, they start to come together. Scenes inspired by all the different types of love for the Jonsa Valentine's Day Event 2024.

12. Touch me, I’m going to scream by @eruherdiriel

He’s one building away when he sees her—auburn hair in two neat French braids, a grey peacoat on, and hands in green fleece gloves holding a shopping bag that looks heavy. Sansa Stark is walking up the steps of the triple-decker, leaving a sleek, black sedan idling by the curb. Flustered, Jon jogs the rest of the way and reaches the steps just as Sansa raises a hand to ring the buzzer. “Hey,” he says, and she stops her motion. When she turns to him, Sansa’s eyes go wide. “Are you all right?” — Jon and Sansa—how touch evolves between them over the years.

[axelsagewrites]

What They're Like in Bed

Includes: Margery, Sansa, Daenerys, and Yara (Asha in the books but more ppl kno her as Yara I think)

Warnings: mentions of (but not descriptions) of various kinks, subs, doms, degradation, praise kinks, thigh riding, and oral (that kinda thing) 18+

Word count: 905

Men's part here

Masterlist Here

Margaery

Margaery comes off as very in charge at first, which she is amazing at, but she can have a subby side as well. When she’s dominant she is a soft dom though. She loves to ride your face, telling you to behave or she’ll stop. She’ll sit you on her knees or over her lap, slowly staring to pleasure you and trail kisses on your neck. This girl loves neck kisses. Like obsessed.

She doesn’t do harsh punishments and instead will ban you from touching yourself, or worse her. She’ll make you watch her pleasure herself when you haven’t listened enough to earn it. When you do behave though she will shower you with praise. The praise can also be condescending in nature, saying ‘how good you are for a stupid slut’ or telling you ‘good job’ with a condescending tone. She wants to make you work for her praise.

When Margaery does allow her submissive side to show she loves to be overstimulated and if she trusts you then fully tied up. She could spend all day being tied up and edged just for the satisfaction of her release at the end. She loves when you grab her jaw or throat, even some light chocking, but she doesn’t tolerate degrading or spanking. At least not on her. You are a different story.

Sansa

Sansa was hesitant about having sex to start with, her trust always haven been broken in the past, so when you do start having sex you have to be very gentle. However, once she becomes comfortable things get amazing.

She’s defiantly a very shy sub who blushes when you make eye contact with her. She blushes like crazy when you praise her which is often because of her massive praise kink. She loves to be told how good she is, how sweet she tastes, and how perfect she is. The praise also helps her get out her shell. When she does is when she wants to experiment with things like temperature play with you dripping hot wax over her chest.

Her favourite thing is when you run her a bath, rubbing her shoulders, and kissing her neck, before joining her in it to truly help her relax. She defiantly loves more casual sex vibes. I’m talking laughing and giggling mixing through her moans, sleepy morning sex, lazy casual sex, making out on the bed as her hands wander your body.  Her absolute favourite thing though is when you go down on her. Sansa can be a bit of a pillow princess in this regard but she’s also a very caring partner so if you point it out, she will turn her attention on you.

Daenerys

Daenerys feels a need to be dominant with her partner due to her history and never feeling like she is treated seriously. She does love being dominant though and loves a partner who will sit at her feet, praising her and begging to touch her. She loves to deny you of her touch or your finish until she has heard sweet praise and begs fall from your lips.

Her favourite positions are definitely to do with riding though. She loves to ride your face or have you ride her. Sometimes she’ll have you ride her thigh, teasing how easy it was to turn you on. She loves when you worship her body and the trails of kisses you leave across it. She realises her subby side one time when you began to suck her nipples and she wanted nothing more than for you to keep going and to please you. Oh also she loves nipple play.

When she is submissive, she loves to please and be praised, being told how good she is and how she can earn her next reward and asking permission to touch you or to cum. While she’ll ask first, she will never beg. She doesn’t handle degradation or punishment well but she never brats enough to deserve it. She just wants to be taken care of and make sure that you reach your own peak in the process.

Yara

Yara is a dom who loves to tease. This girl will tease you from the moment the sun rises till it sets regardless of whether you’re in the bedroom or not. She loves to flirt with you in front of others. She loves watching you blush and stutter at her words however she also gets a kick out of the days that you flirt as boldly back. This causes her to step up her game, sometimes dragging you off to the nearest surface or wall to remind you that she was in charge.

If her partner were comfortable with her, she would love to try a bit of exhibitionism. Maybe not go all the way but the idea of someone watching her turn you into a moaning mess riled her up to no end. She also wouldn’t be against watching you with someone else, however only if and when she allowed it and she was very particular on who she would share you with. This was also the reason she loves threesomes.

She loves to have her partner ride her thigh, choking them as she does. She’s down to try a lot of different thing but she will tease you incessantly while doing so if not straight up degrade you if you allowed her. She’s very experimental.

A/N: I love the girls but why can't they have easier names lmao I keep auto correcting to Margery not Margaery.

[mattyalwayssmokesweed]

“Arya wouldn’t have survived what Sansa went through at the Red Keep” And exactly why? Because she’s an angry girl that can’t shut her mouth and that would’ve gotten her killed? Bullshit

Are we talking about the same girl who managed to escape the Red Keep and lived undercover for days while her father was imprisoned, without reveling her identity to any of the guards that were constantly searching for her? The same girl who managed to keep her identity hidden and traveled with criminals for weeks? The same girl who survived being one of The Mountain’s captives? The same girl who then survived Harrenhal, where she was smart enough to keep her identity hidden from Roose Bolton (who at that time was believed to be one of Robb’s allies) because she couldn’t be sure she would be taken to her family if he knew who she was? The same girl who helped Hot Pie and Gendry escape Harrenhal, the largest castle in the Seven Kingdoms, when she heard Vargo Hoat would take over, and freed the Northmen as well? The same girl who then was taken by the Brotherhood without Banners, and then kidnapped by Sandor Clegane? The same girl that had to watch the body of her older brother, a man she admired, being paraded around as his “allies” cheered on? The same girl that escaped Westeros and managed to get to Braavos (granted she got a free trip to Essos because of Jaqen’s coin, but up until she got to the ship she didn’t have any help)? The same girl who was then taken in and forced to give up everything she had and was? The same girl who was treated almost like a slave there? The same girl that was beaten and belittled? The same girl that was blinded and was forced to get used to life without vision? The same girl that, somehow, survived and endured until that point, outsmarting grown ups and finding “shortcuts” to ensure her survival?

You’re telling me that same girl wouldn’t have been smart enough to survive Cersei and Joffrey, people who she had figured out shortly after meeting them and knew what to do or not do to push their buttons, because she’s good at reading people? She wouldn’t have survived what Sansa survived?

At least Sansa was safe until Robb’s death, because she was a hostage and if something bad where to had happened to her, it would’ve caused outrage on the North. She was the Lannisters’ safety net, of course she wouldn’t have been killed, no matter how crazy Joffrey was —even he was aware of it, and it’s clear when you read her chapters. I’m obviously not trying to take away Sansa’s trauma because she was abused and humiliated in the Red Keep by Joffrey, but there was always someone who intervened (especially after Tyrion married her); that’s a sense of security that Arya never have because no one knew who she was— if she somehow made the wrong move she would’ve been killed, no time to get help from someone or try to prove who she actually was because people wouldn’t have believed her. She was in constant danger and not even being Ned Stark’s daughter was of any help, if anything it put an even bigger target on her back.

So yes, Arya would’ve one hundred percent survived what Sansa went through, because she went through so much worse without having the “privilege” of her parentage to protect her. Stop watering down Arya’s intelligence just because you know Sansa would’ve died on day one if she had been on Arya’s shoes without the privilege of being a lady.

[alaynestcnes]

“evidence upon evidence upon evidence” and it’s just chapter order and stuff like “oh jonnel is definitely the same as jon” (which is basically saying alysanne is the same as alys) or val being blonde means she could be redheaded in certain lights. it’s still all a REACH so no evidence for romance

Looks like you have some gaps in your jonsa knowledge so I’ll help you out a little 😊

A good place to start would be the jonsa compendium with at least 18 points of independent in-text evidence (not including the broader fun stuff like lotr lit parallels). We can also talk about the multiple allusions to Sansa being betrothed to a Targ (not including the ashford tourney theory already included in the compendium); here, here. Some other little tidbots I enjoy (a la 'blood of winterfell', jon/joff parallels, little in-text parallels, and too many others to mention) are in my parallels tag.

There are the BNFs/theorists who have speculated on jonsa; Alt Shift X and Adam Feldman have both found Jonsa to be significant enough to mention. They’ve been invited to have dinner with GRRM, and he has said Adam Feldman ‘really gets’ asoiaf. So, I kinda hold these theorists as just a bit more credible than whatever the twitter/reddit stans have to say.

And I know you brushed off the chapter analysis but let’s remember that GRRM has said that he is very particular about the sequence of scenes and chapters. So, it’s not absurd to say that the construction of the chapters is something that we should be paying attention to. Ignoring that is fine but don’t pretend like it’s Jonsas reaching, when it’s just your own blind bullheadedness. That being said, here’s an almost never-ending post analysing the in-text Jonsa parallels and references. And then here there's how whenever Jon or Sansa's chapters have a focus on love and marriage, then the other will almost always closely follow.

That's my little english lit seminar done, but I hope you're not too tired bc we've still got our AP hisory and political science class to go! GRRM has stated before that class is important (especially in relation to marriage) and he hates medieval-set stories where the highborn lady happily runs off with the stableboy. So, it's safe to say that Sansa will not be marrying any old glup shitto the fandom wants to pair her with. Her range of suitors is very, very limited. "Jonnel is definetly the same as Jon"...well, if the shoe fits? Like it just lines up too well, it's just a bit cheeky of GRRM to sow issues of northern succession in ASOIAF, all while providing a precedent for an inter-Stark union as a solution to a very similar issue. You could also make the case that Jonnel/Sansa is more of a foil for Jon/Sansa than a direct parallel (as instead of Jon marrying Sansa to supercede her claim, Sansa will choose to marry Jon in order to secure his position after Targ reveal). And really, is this anymore delulu than something like the Jon/Tyrion/Dany three heads of the dragon theories you see around?

Anywaysss this is just a fast and loose run down and better people than me have developed more comprehensive archives of the ever-extending jonsa meta universe, so please supplement your learning with some independent study: here, here, here.

So yeah…the evidence is a little bit deeper than Jon/Jonnel or Val/Sansa. I’m not trying to preach but calling Jonsa out on a lack of evidence or that we’re reaching for anything is giving very much illiterate on your side. If you wanna come into my ask and be a hater again pleassseeee at least do your research first. Next time there will be a quiz before I take anything you say seriously.

[phntmeii]

♡ Dating Margaery Tyrell Headcanons

❝ ...a lovely young girl with doe's eyes and a cascade of soft brown hair.❝ 

[ SFW + Fem Terms Used]

Pairing: Margaery Tyrell x Fem!Snow!Reader

A/N: I miss her to a concerning level. She really was a queen in every aspect and I personally need her so bad.

🌷 You’d been one of the famed Stark bastards. Twin to Jon Snow. Growing up was odd. You were raised beside the Stark family yet felt like an outsider. Some family were kind enough: Ned, Arya, Robb. But some were more critical like Catelyn and Sansa.

🌷 You were made to be a proper lady although you’d never live the life of one. When Ned had to go to King’s Landing, you went as well. After all, Catelyn would dislike seeing lingering around still.

🌷 And so you endured King’s Landing beside Sansa as one of her ladies-in-waitings. Even in her grief where she would scream at you, you were always there still. She was your sister even if you were a bastard.

🌷 And then came the Tyrells to save the Battle of Blackwater. You watched along with Sansa as Margaery presented herself to Joffrey, wanting to be his new queen. You couldn’t even pay attention to the weight of her words when she glanced over at you by the rafters above and your heart stopped.

🌷 Margaery was beautiful and she knew it as well as anyone. She was the definition of a lady and you swore you seemed more like a desperate man in love the way your eyes followed after Margaery in the hall.

🌷 And the worst part was how she met your eyes and kept the gaze while she left.

🌷 Margaery was no Varys or Littlefinger, having spies all across the land to tell her information but your eyes were evident in what they said.

🌷 Love was always apparent in someone’s eyes.

🌷 Margaery’s personality molds into whoever she needs it to be for a specific situation or toward a specific person. And she’d use this ability to her advantage.

🌷 You didn’t know when it started that Margaery would find a way to sneak into your chambers. She had a coy smile as she came up from behind to purposefully frighten you before kissing you.

🌷 Her playfulness was something that made you fall harder. She seemed to always be smiling. Always laughing. She was perfect and yet so simply elegant.

🌷 You two had to be secret for a number of reasons.

🌷 Firstly, Joffrey was her betrothed and he certainly wouldn’t hesitate to put you both down for finding out what you had done with Margaery.

🌷 If Joffrey didn’t, the church would certainly love to. They’d spin the story of the dishonest Stark bastard who seduced the lovely rose of Highgarden.

🌷 And, lastly, you were a bastard. Period. There was no world where you could be with her if it wasn’t in secret.

🌷 But you couldn’t pull yourself away from her. Whenever you worried of the consequences, Margaery was coiled around you, whispering your worries away.

🌷 “My love… There is nothing to fear. This is our secret. One we’ll keep for a lifetime if need be. When I’m queen, I will make sure no harm ever comes to you. I promise you.”

🌷 And Margaery knew how to play her cards right. If Joffrey questioned why she spent time with you at all, she always held a reason for it. Stroke his ego just enough to keep you beside her.

🌷 Her family were not idiots either. They were perhaps the only ones to notice how Margaery looked at you. It was dangerous for her plan of being queen if found out but, with that boy wrapped around her finger, who’d believe such a rumor?

🌷 Margaery enjoyed listening to you talk more than she liked to. Learning everything she could about you, interests, hobbies, and life story—She was fascinated by all of it.

🌷 Surrounded by flowers and flower imagery constantly from birth made Margaery’s head ache in truth but being in love with you made her want to give you flowers. And her flowers were not random picks.

🌷 Margaery would leave you a bouquet with a note in black ink or red ink. Black ink meant the bouquet were of healing herbs. Red ink meant the bouquet were of poisonous flowers.

🌷 Just like her, they were gorgeous on the outside but devious in use. Whatever kept her secret beloved safe.

🌷Margaery’s main Love Languages to give are: Acts of Service and Physical Touch.

🌷 Margaery knows the power that she holds in court and is no stranger to using it to her advantage or wants.

🌷 She appointed guards to protect you and Sansa to make sure of your safety. It was ever important to her.

🌷 She was the one to allow more of your freedom to roam about rather than be trapped solely in your chambers that felt more like a prison cell.

🌷 Margaery enjoyed sending off lemon cakes to your chambers as a little gift while you were out so you'd come back with them ready for you.

🌷 Margaery's favorite Love Languages to receive are: Physical Touch and Quality Time.

🌷 While Margaery has accustomed to playing herself up with a mask, she can't help but swoon when it comes to physical touch.

🌷 Alone in your chambers at night, she's dying to be kissed and held by you. It's as though you were a safety where she could just melt completely in your arms.

🌷 Anytime she gets time with you, she's overjoyed. It's so much more comforting than to be around the Lannisters in a game of lies.

🌷 One of her favorites is to just listen to you talk about your hobbies and your life in Winterfell.

⤷ divider credits: @cafekitsune

[taytrashmouth]

Just finished rewatching game of thrones and the Jon snow obsession has been reborn.

This is a long one!

TW: rape, abuse, crying, murder, etc, all normal GOT stuff.

Jon snow x reader.

:readmore:

Looking at the empty walls of the stone cell I’ve been trapped in for weeks I can’t help but feel that these walls of winterfell that I’ve known for so long are no longer the walls I call home. This is a prison.

I pushed myself back against the furthest wall as I heard the keys rattle in the door. The chain around my waist felt heavier than normal.

As the door opened I felt a tear escape my eye…Ramsey

“You’re not excited to see me?” He pouted and wiped my cheek.

I tried to hide my fear and pain and sadness but I knew he could see through my act.

“I’m going to meet with lady Bolton tomorrow.” He sat down in front of me.

I thought about Sansa….I thought about when we were little, how we would sneak into the kitchens after everyone was asleep, how we’d laugh and talk, how we would dance in the snow outside and go for long walks in the snowy hills. She was bigger now, more mature. The last time I saw her was at the wedding…she got locked in Ramseys room and I got locked in a cell. I heard people talk of her escape through the small widow towards the top of my cell, I’d never been that relieved in my life.

Sansa never treated me as her handmaiden, only ever as her friend.

“Her bastard brother will be there too…” Ramsey spoke.

I couldn’t help my reaction, I let out a gasp and tears fell from my eyes.

Jon was alive.

“I want you to come with me to meet with them tomorrow…”

I looked up at him and frowned, there was a catch, Ramsey was insane, he liked to play games.

“You see… I know that Jon cares for you…and lovers should always be reunited at the end of every story.” Ramsey smiled as he touched my cheek, I tried to move away but he held me still.

“But I’m afraid this story doesn’t have a happy ending…” he pouted. “Jon will have to see what I’ve done with you.” Now he smiled.

He began to untie my dress, I tried to move away but he held me down and the chains were too heavy. After not being fed for a week I could barely have the strength to push him off.

He grabbed my hands and held them high above my head as he sucked hickeys into my neck, and put bite marks all over my skin.

Eventually I stopped screaming, I just accepted him inside of me, I cried and looked away, knowing there was nothing I could do. I thought of everything that wasn’t Ramsey. Then eventually I didn’t think of anything at all, I didn’t even feel as though I was in the room anymore. I was somewhere deep inside my own mind, somewhere I couldn’t even place.

I felt Ramsey hit me and become rough but I just lay there in the cold cell…hopeless.

When he was done he had his guards unlock the chains around my waist and wrists, and lead me to a room in the castle….Aryas old room.

They locked me in there for the rest of the night I had a bath and scrubbed my skin till it was raw and red trying to get Ramsey off of me…

I put on the dress that was laid out on the bed, it showed off my shoulders and my sides, exposing the bruises and scrapes all over my body. I brushed my hair that had grown a lot since I last saw myself. I tied it back into a braid exposing my face and neck like Ramsay instructed

I looked at my thin figure, I could see my own ribs. I looked awful. I drank the soup that was left on top of the dresser.

And I waited…to see Jon again, to see Sansa.

I walked out of the dining hall to see Jon hitting a training dummy repeatedly with his sword.

“I think it’s dead.” I smiled as he turned around.

He smiled softly, something he didn’t do often. “What am I missing?” He asked gesturing back into the hall

“Ned’s angry because Arya flicked food at Sansa.” I spoke. He laughed under his breath. “So nothing new?” He smirked.

I shook my head.

It was quiet for a moment, the music from inside distant. The air was cold.

I had liked Jon since I was about 10, he often caught Sansa and I in the kitchens late at night and instead of telling Ned, like Robb sometimes did, he would join us.

But I’d never say anything, I couldn’t…technically he was a stark, and technically I was a prisoner, a Greyjoy. Although the starks had never made me feel like a prisoner.

“Why so frustrated?” I asked him.

He looked down at his sword and the blisters he’d caused on his hand.

“A lot on my mind, my lady.” He replied.

“I am no lady….just a handmaiden, My lord.” I spoke back, knowing he only ever wanted me to call him Jon.

He smiled to himself. “Just Jon.”

“Okay….just Jon, may I have this dance.” I asked as the band began to play another song that could be heard vaguely through the closed doors to the dining hall.

“Anything for you, princess.” He spoke slowly and made his way over to you. Putting his sword against the stone walls of winterfell.

“I am no-“ you were interrupted when his finger pressed to your lips. “You are to me.” He whispered.

He valued me, always. He never treated me like less, in fact he always treated me like more, like royalty, like a princess.

I smiled up at him. He placed his hands on my waist and i put mine on his shoulders.

“I must warn you, just Jon I’m not a good dancer.” I spoke.

“I know, I’ve watched you dance with sir Cedric Mormont a few years back, and sir Jamie earlier tonight.”

I playfully smacked his arm and he smiled.

“I’ll tell you what princess y/n Greyjoy…I’m not that good either.” He smiled.

We swayed and laughed when Jon jokingly spun me around, or when I tried to lead. We ran around the castle walls for about 3 hours before lady Katlin caught us.

We both froze when she saw us.

“Sansa was looking for you y/n.” She spoke firmly. Glaring at Jon.

“My lady- I-“ you stumbled.

“It was me! I wanted to try on Robb’s armor, see what it was like, to be a knight. I had lady Greyjoy assist me putting it on-“ Jon interrupted. He never lied, but he was protecting me.

I glanced worriedly at him.

“Typical.” She whispered under her breath, and shook her head. My blood boiled. “Y/n get to Sansa’s chambers immediately, Jon… out of my sight.” She spoke loudly.

I quickly walked off to Sansa’s bed chamber, thinking about Jon the whole way there.

“Where we’re you?” Sansa spoke.

“I’m sorry, I-I was with Jon.” I blushed.

She squealed. “Tell me everything.” She spoke, handing me her hairbrush as she sat down at the dresser.

It was like having a permanent best friend, I was only two years older than Sansa.

I carefully undid the intricate braids in her hair and brushed her copper locks.

“We danced…sort of.” I smiled.

“Was he any good?” She frowned.

“No.” We both laughed.

We giggled and spoke until she had to go to bed. Laughing about Jon and how she was to marry prince Joffrey.

You walked along the empty passages towards the servants quarters. Through the snow covered courtyard. 

I was pulled from the happy memory when the lock to the chamber rattled and Ramsey and two of his guards entered.

I dropped the soup onto the floor, my hands must have been shaking.

“Oh clumsy are we? You’ll need a new dress I suppose.” Ramsey pouted.

Tears filled my eyes.

“Luckily I have the perfect one for you.” He smirked and held out some purple material…open back.

He wanted Jon to see my pain, to see that I belonged to him. I shook my head and tears fell from my eyes.

His guards grabbed my wrists and shoved me onto the bed, i sobbed when they began to tie my hands to the headboard. They ripped away the gown I was wearing and I could no longer see Ramsey, and that scared me more than anything.

“This will hurt darling.” I could hear the smile in his voice. And I screamed and sobbed as a hard whip hit my back, digging into my spine, I felt blood pour down my back.

It hurt again and again, 20 times he hit me, 20 times I screamed and 20 times I did not prey for help, I wished for death.

He left me tied there, facing the wall, bleeding.

I cried for a long time until I fell asleep from exhaustion. Naked and beaten.

The morning was a rush, Bran had fallen from the tallest tower and hadn’t woken up. Lady Katlin was devastated and Ned had informed Sansa and I we were leaving for kings landing tomorrow. He had been offered the position of hand of the king.

He also informed me that Jon was to become a man of the nights watch.

I walked as fast as I could to his room, my dress blowing behind me in the wind. I tried desperately not to cry.

I shoved his door open and there he was packing his things.

As he turned to me I slapped him, hard.

“Were you not going to tell me!” I yelled, the tears began to fall.

He swallowed hard and looked down, and then at me…my face.

“I didn’t know how-“

“Lies!” I screamed, tears falling like snowflakes.

“I love you! And I didn’t know how to say goodbye to the one thing! The one good thing in my life! The only thing that matters!” He yelled too now.

You cried harder.

“You are the only thing keeping me from going! But I can’t love you, n/n….I can’t! I’m a bastard, and I refuse to force you to burden that name too. You are going to king’s landing tomorrow, you’ll meet a Duke of something there and you’ll grow old in a castle, and have beautiful daughters and strong sons.” Jon was crying too, he held my shoulders.

“No-“ I shook my head. “I don’t want that…. I love you Jon snow. I will never love anyone else. I want to run away with you, I want to carry your children, I want to grow old with you!” I sobbed.

He shook his head, and pressed his forehead to mine.

“I don’t care if you’re a bastard- it’s a stupid title. Like king or queen it’s just a name. But you’re so much more than that you’re brave and kind, loving, you’re funny and smart and-“ he kissed me, gently but passionately.

For a moment everything made sense. All the stars aligned and the puzzle fit together beautifully.

But then I pulled away.

“I love you.” We stated at the same time, we both laughed lightly.

There was a heavy silence after that. I knew I had to go to kings landing, and he knew he had to go to the wall, to make something of himself.

“Promise me.” I spoke slowly as he held my cheeks. “Promise me when I see you again you’ll kiss me, like you just did, promise me that someday we’ll grow old together. Promise me-“ I choked and he kissed my forehead. “Promise that I’ll see you again.”

He nodded. “I promise.” He knelt to the floor and kissed my hand, “ I promise I’ll come back for my princess.” He spoke.

I smiled through the tears as he stood.

“Promise you’ll write to me…every day.” He whispered as we hugged. I nodded.

“Promise you’ll write back.” He chuckled and nodded against my head.

That was goodbye.

I rode with Ramsey on his horse, my back aching and my lips blue. I was freezing in the revealing dress. Bruises, gashes, hickeys, scars and deep wounds covered my body.

We stopped after a long ride. I saw horses approaching in the distance. My heart sunk, I didn’t want Jon to see me like this. What if he had moved on.

I must have looked terrible because Sansa took in a sharp breath before demanding my release. There he was, Jon…my Jon.

I almost smiled when I saw him, almost.

He looked older, a fuller beard and darker eyes, he was taller. He was handsome.

He looked devastated when he saw me. I looked down at the floor, not seeing the tears fill his eyes.

They debated the war that was to come, tomorrow. And Rickons release.

I began to shiver.

“Give her a coat she’ll freeze!” Jon yelled. His voice was husky and sad. I looked at the anger on his face.

Ramsey smiled.

“Jon don’t-“ I tried to explain it was just one of his games but Ramsey hit me, across the cheek.

Jon’s horse jerked forward as he drew his sword but his men held him back.

And then we rode away, at the perfect angle for Jon to see my back.

Ramsey threw me back into my cell, I cried…I didn’t want Jon to fight- I feared Ramsey would win.

I felt my heart sink…I had imagined seeing him again for so many years and it broke me to know that might’ve been the last time.

Last I saw him he was 16, only a boy. I was 15, a young girl who knew nothing of the world outside winterfell.

I knew not of vicious fighters like sir clegane or horrible woman like Cersei. I wouldn’t have imagined such an unfair ruler as Joffrey. Or such an abusive leader as Ramsey.

I wouldn’t have ever imagined seeing Theon like that….like reek. Ramsey told me he’d to the same to me if I disobeyed him. Another Greyjoy to his collection.

I hadn’t looked death in the eye the last time i saw Jon and yet now I had seen so much of it, it all seemed insignificant.

I heard of Jon’s battles, I even heard of his death. Seeing him again was like seeing a ghost. I wasn’t the same girl he left at winterfell but I had the same heart.

“You’re going to take someone’s eye out.” I smiled across the courtyard as I saw Jon and Robb attempting to sword fight in the snow, they kept slipping on the ice.

“That’s the point my lady.” Robb smiled.

“It’s not that simple.” Jon huffed.

“Can I have a go.” I asked gesturing to their swords.

They both chuckled until they realized I was serious.

“The arena is no place for a lady.” Robb spoke, he looked a bit sympathetic though.

I frowned.

Jon was about to speak until Theon called them to lunch.

That evening when I was lying on my bed I felt something shake me awake.

“Jon?” I frowned in the dark. He nodded.

“Come on.” He pulled me out of bed.

“Where are we going?” I asked but he shhhhed me.

“You’ll see, it’s a surprise.” He whispered.

He dragged me out to the courtyard, where he lit a bunch of candles.

I smiled.

“Jon it’s beautiful.”

“Like you.” He responded, both our cheeks flushed.

“You sure you’re ready?” He asked me, changing the subject.

“For?”

“You’re greatest opponent.” He smiled and threw me a sword which landed on the floor in front of me. I smiled.

“Thank you.” I looked at him. He nodded.

He spent the rest of the night trying to teach me how to fight, and by 4AM I could have a basic spar with him.

He quickly blew out all the candles and lead me back to my chambers.

“Was I any good?” I asked.

He nodded as we walked.

“Are you just saying that?” I asked again.

He smiled. “You were better than Theon let’s put it that way.”

I smiled.

Ramsey chained me up and dragged me outside of winterfell with Rickon. We both got a bad hit when I hugged him, I was so relieved he was alright.

I watched as Ramsey explained the rules of his stupid little trick, how rickon had to run across the field to Jon. It was too easy. There was a catch.

I watched as he began to run and I watched Ramseys men began to load their crossbows.

I began to scream. “Nooo! Stop!” I screamed and they hit me, but I didn’t stop, I had to warn him.

Jon began to ride towards his brother… holding out his hand. But there it was, another stark gone.

My own scream was silent in my ears, I couldn’t hear anything as I watched him fall to the floor.

I sobbed. I watched Jon loose his horse and begin to take on an entire army by himself. I screamed again.

I felt Ramsey pull at my chains and drag me back to winterfell. Leaving the battle of the bastards. His war that he wasn’t even fighting.

Leaving the carnage. He took me to the courtyard. He put me on the execution platform and tied a rope around my neck. He explained how if Jon came to save me, the floor would disappear and so would I.

I waited, I saw the bodies pile up through the windows in the castle walls. I watched the giant break down winterfells gates. I smiled and cried when I saw him….just Jon.

“You’re too late.” Ramsey smiled and pointed at me. Jon’s face dropped he was covered in blood.

“No!” I yelled as I watched one of Ramseys men move to pull the lever.

Jon began to run towards me, as a red haired man threw an axe at the soldier. It killed him as he pulled the switch. I closed my eyes and took in a sharp breath.

I opened my eyes, Jon had caught me. I smiled as a tear ran down my cheek. He looked at me, examining my face.

His red hair friend cut the rope and jon put me down.

Ramsey began to load his crossbow.

“Jon.” I said and pointed at Ramsey.

His hands left my hips, and I almost missed his touch.

He used some debris as a shield as Ramsey fired arrows at him, he grew closer and closer to him.

I watched as Jon beat him up. A part of me liked that Ramsey would die here, today. A part of me knew it was wrong.

“Stop!” I let out. Jon looked at me and then at Sansa, still punching. And he did, he stopped.

He walked off into winterfell.

I ran across the courtyard to Sansa and we held each other. Tight.

“Are you okay?” I asked her. She laughed.

“Are you?” She scoffed.

We quickly decided Ramsey should be reunited with his pets. He didn’t deserve to live. Not even as a prisoner.

Later that evening I found myself in Aryas old bed chambers attempting to stitch up some of my cuts. I heard a knock at the door and looked up.

Jon.

“Hello.” I spoke.

“Hi.”

I slowly stood up.

It wasn’t long before his lips were on mine. We kissed for a long time, passionately. A kiss that made up for all our time lost.

We pulled away breathless, both crying.

“You stopped writing letters.” I spoke, he smiled.

“You stopped writing back.” He answered.

He hugged me, gently. I hugged him back as tightly as I could.

“You’re taller.” I smiled.

“You’re shorter.”

We both laughed.

He sat me on the bed and helped me stitch up my wounds. He held my hand tightly as he poured alcohol on my back.

We spent hours catching up.

We both sat on the end of the bed, my head on his shoulder.

“I thought you were dead.” I told him. “Twice.”

He chuckled. “You gave me a few scares too.”

“How was the wall?”

“Cold.” He looked down at me. I laughed.

“Is it true? The whitewalkers?” I asked more seriously now.

He sighed. “Unfortunately.”

“I’ve fought them, they’re too strong. I fear we won’t win this battle. But I’ll make sure you’re as far south as south goes-“

“No!” I interrupted, shaking my head.

Tears brimmed in his waterline.

“I’m not leaving again….I just got you back. We’re going to grow old together, remember?” My voice broke. “Even if you’ve found someone else-“

“There’s no one else.” He brushed his hand over my cheek.

“If you fight, I’ll fight.” I spoke.

“You did have a really good teacher.” He stated. I playfully nudged him as he smiled.

“I love you…just Jon, I always have.” I finished.

“I love you too, princess y/n Greyjoy.” He kissed me again gently.

“Snow.” I corrected and he frowned. “Queen y/n snow.”

A smile took over his whole face.

“If you’ll have me, that is? King Jon snow.”

[atopvisenyashill]

Catelyn's resentment at always having to adhere to men is not talked about enough in my opinion. When she bitterly thinks that she always did her duty. When she thinks about having to wait for the men in her life. When she snaps that Robb did not her consider his sisters important enough. When she laments that no one sings songs of the battles of women aka childbirth and children.... Yes she conforms because she is realistic and pragmatic and dutiful and she wants to survive and be happy enough and she wants the same for her daughters.

YES EXACTLY. I think it’s like. For so long she conformed because it was realistic pragmatic dutiful, because being a perfect lady and heir made things easier on her parents, and she loved her parents, she wanted them to he proud, and it turned out she was GOOD at so many of the things they asked of her, and it gave her the ability to be in charge of herself and her life for so long, and when minisa died, she could help lift the burden off her father’s shoulders, and it gave her the ability to grow and speak her mind, and being dutiful brought her ned, who was so much more than she ever thought she’d get, and it brought her five amazing children, and a home she loves and can be free in - like jon snow thing does suck but compare this situation to like upwards of 90% of the marriages & you know what it’s a fucking dream and Catelyn knows this, she is aware things can always be worse, it’s why she understands immediately why jon & lysa were doomed from the start, she understands this system and how it works, and it’s worked so well for her she can ignore the ways it has hurt her.

And then it just. Completely fails her. She’s tricked by Lysa and Petyr, the two people she’d least expect it from that she never even entertains the idea, Ned is murdered, Sansa is a hostage, Arya is just gone, Bran has been nearly murdered twice, and she’s in her childhood home and Hoster is dying and Edmure is annoying and Blackfish is off fighting again and she’s reliving the worst days of her life but this time the person waging war isn’t a husband she doesn’t know, it’s her own son and she just can’t stop thinking about how she’s done everything right, she’s played by the rules her whole life, she upheld the social contract because it promised she’d have control over her life, and then the whole thing just completely fails because joffrey has a tantrum after petyr whispered in his ear, AGAIN, just another mad king with power hungry advisors, and she’s stuck in this room AGAIN-

AND SHE DOES.

like, that’s what happens, is she spends her whole life doing what she’s supposed to and then it crumbles down around her and she just figures, fuck it, if following the rules can’t do the one (1) most important thing it has to do which is keep my family alive than i’m not following shit anymore. she starts to just do what she thinks is best. starts to snap back. starts to just speak without being asked. like, she’s cracking, she’s breaking up, YEAH she’s still dutiful, but what is she being dutiful TOWARDS? is she doing what robb says? what edmure says? NO, she’s making her OWN DECISIONS she’s trying. and then people will see her become a literal undead spirit of rage and revenge and be like “she’s so dutiful and never struggles or chafes against the patriarchy” when she struggled and screamed so much at the ending she was clawing her own face to ribbons!!

[perkqularkreashions]

BEAST

I’m backkkk

PART 1

GOT IMAGINE: y/n [with she/her pronouns] is the beauty of Westeros, is a stark sibling, and has a secret relationship with Jamie and but soon starts to fall for Tyrion. Multiple parts maybe?

NOTES: Follows both Book and TV series. MATURE. 

Sansa stared at her sister, she couldn’t help but become envious of the woman. She was a beauty, nothing like her mother and herself who possessed the beauty of the Tully’s. The way her dark hair shined in the Winterfell’s sun, the way she beautifully blushed, the vermillion color spreading to the apples of her cheek and the tip of her nose. She spoke with ease, everything flowing past her lips, almost felt rehearsed. Y/N Stark, a beauty of Westeros. Many suitors had traveled to take in her beauty, to have a gentle kiss lay on her hand or simply behold in her presence. Sansa, often prayed to the Gods that her sister would succumb to an illness or that she would obtain even a fraction of her beauty. 

Y/N's knees firmly pressed into the ground running the dress that mother had picked out for her. Her smile was bright as she pushed her hands through the dire wolf’s face, her nose mashing against his as she giggled out. Her pup, outgrew the litter, even when he sitting, he was overlooking the rest. Sansa watched Y/N’s fingers run through his obsidian black fur. His dark amber eyes looked down at her as she whispered to him. Something she often did, Eddard Stark often thought it weird as she would always murmur things to the beastly pup, his expression was always filled with intent and understanding. “Beast!” Sansa calls out, both the pup’s and her sister’s heads turned, a soft smile writing itself on her face.

She responds “Sansa?” the mud and sticks attach themselves to her dress, the periwinkle now covered with dirt and mud.

“I want to impress the prince, I want to be as beautiful as you” the words fell out of Sansa’s lips. A frown soon wrote itself on her face as she tugged on her bottom lip. 

“You are a beauty, your grace jealousies me sometimes” Y/N admits, her hand tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. Sansa was taken aback, she looks at her sister holding her breath as she smiles. “Don’t ever change yourself for a man, especially a prince. You are Sansa Stark, that should be more than enough for that boy” she gently whispers. 

It happened all too soon, Y/N was unamused by the arrival of the King and the Queen, high above everyone else, their heads held even higher passing through the opening. She squeezed between Robb, and as he brushed her shoulder roughly an enormous smile plastered on his face. “Mother will have your head beast” he whispers, his eyes falling to Beast, the oversized dire wolf that made space for himself tween the two. Y/N smirked before her eyes fell on the Lannisters, blessed with golden locks of hair that gently kissed the chilled breeze. They were radiating, an unpleasant contrast to the dullness that Y/N was used to. Her eyes caught hold of the Kingslayer, and a slow smirk rested on his face as his posture straightened. 

Beast growled, his head jamming into Y/N’s side, her eyes snapping down noticing the wolf’s gaze focused ahead of him. “Don’t be rude” she murmurs before returning her gaze to the Kingslayer’s as he never left hers. He flashed a cocky smile, Y/N's face remained unchanged as she just studied his face, the way his lips curled and the lines on his face contort. She turned her gaze forward, watching the King’s guard tramble in. 

It was finally Y/N’s turn, to be gawked and talked upon. “My Gods” he whispered; Y/N's eyes fluttered to the bellowing man’s voice. It was strong and certain. “You’ve grown” he comments, his hand gently brushing her hair out of her face. The soft and sudden color of her cheek, the flow, and feel of her soft dark hair, and the way her eyes held no emotion yet told captured him as they once did. His attention was cut short, and Beast’s slow guttural growl filled the air. Y/N's face reminded unchanging as Beast’s voice grew louder. Caitlyn's jaw clenched her eyes burning into Ned’s head, as he refused to look her way. 

Caitlyn inconspicuously nuzzled into Ned’s side, whispering “I told her not to bring the damned pup. She’s stubborn” 

A small smile was drawn on Ned’s face as he watched his daughter for a moment. Her dark hair resembled Jon’s. Y/N had her face, that was for certain. 

“I would like to see her” Robert's voice cutting through the silence as he moved away from Y/N. Soon the pair had embarked on seeing Lyanna’s tomb, the heaviness in the air leaving with them. 

“Mom’s going to have your head” Robb teased. 

The festivities grew, the drunken men singing and bellowing. Y/N and Beast watched Jon, sitting at the far end of the hall, tossing scraps to Ghost. She let out a low and long whistle, capturing the dire wolf’s attention. 

“I want to walk alone, go give Jon and Ghost some company” Y/N whispers out, Beast huffs in dismay laying on the floor his eyes trained on Jon, she moves away from Beast, yet she knows that no matter where she went they were always connected, seeing each other’s lives through their shared eyes. She was him and he was her. 

“A beauty of Westeros” a voice whispered, low and snarky. She didn’t need to look to know it was Ser Jamie. She folded her arms slightly, a smile playing on her lips as she turned to him. “I missed you petal”

Delicate like a flower, she was. “Have you really Ser Jamie?” she whispered, finally looking at him. There it was, the soft smile written on his face, his hands wrapping against the fabric of her dress yanking her closer to him. His lips molded into hers, and the taste of honey and ale filled his senses. Slowly, they moved to the ground, the dewy earth soaking her back as she yanked up her dress. His finger slowly glided against her exposed thigh, his hand grazing against her soaking pussy as she moaned against his mouth. He hissed for a moment, snatching himself away. 

“Not tonight” he whispers, Y/N's face grew still, her eyes scanning over his as he slowly sat up. He sat in front of her, eyes churning in an unreadable expression as he sighed for a moment. He didn’t know how to say it, he wanted to be honest, he wanted to prove to himself that he could be good for her. He cuffed her face, his thumb roughly tracing over her lips and her cheek. “Not tonight petal”

A low howl filled the air, long and came in clusters of three. She smiled pressing a long kiss to his unexpecting lips. She stood up, looking down at the Kingslayer. Without a moment to think, words came tumbling out of his mouth. “I love you” It was low and danced through the air. She clung to those words; her lips pressed together. 

She answered in a tone that made him weak. “I love you” With that she was gone, her scent lingering in the air. 

Y/N was met with Beast and Tyrion Lannister scolding each other, his drunken hand moving to his head as he growled lowly. She calls out to him, her face contorting into anger as Tyrion was finally able to rest his hand on his head. 

“Y/N Stark, a pleasure” Tyrion bowed gently, his eyes looking through his ghostly white hair. A smirk played on his lips as he moved toward the Stark girl. “Your dire wolf is most peculiar” 

She answered, “He is, and that you would make you an observant man.” Tyrion chuckled at the word, he heard rumors of her beauty and gentleness- he never took heed to them, he knew of the exaggeration that horny men had. Their dicks harden at the thought of her beauty, men swear it to the Gods that she is above all, men whom have seen her, gaze upon her dark eyes, and caress her soft skin. Tyrion now beholding her beauty can say he understood. The fabric of her gown wraps around her frame, her breast hardening at the chilled wind, but it didn’t bother her greatly. Her full lips and her careful eyes. She was exactly how they describe her. 

“I am no man” he turns away from her, his eyes finding the wolf’s once more. 

“No?” she laughs out, it was soft, and kissed against his ears. “What are you then, may I ask Tyrion?” 

He couldn’t shake the thought that she was mocking him, yet her tone was delicate full of wonder and childlike curiosity. He once again pets the wolf, this time he allows him. Beast enjoys his stubby fingers running through his fur. He catches the look of the dire wolf, for a moment he thought that he could see Y/N in the wolf, her facial expression, and her thoughts as it was written out on the wolf’s face. 

“An abomination” He turned back to her, and suddenly nerves overtook him, he couldn’t be in her presence any longer. 

“Says who?” she chuckles moving to her knees, her hand gripping his shoulder forcing him to look at her. For a moment he couldn’t breathe. 

“I know what I am, nothing will ever hurt as long as I know. Used as a weapon against me” He gazed into her dark eyes; his thumb gently traced against her chin. “Your niceness is a warmth that I appreciate.” 

“And your lies do not fall upon deaf ears” she whispered moving his hand away from her. Y/N's attentions moved to Beast as their caught sight of the figure in the distance, she knew all too well who was. Her gaze remained fixed on Tyrion’s. 

“I must be going now, it was a pleasure Tyrion” she hums, moving to her feet, her scent lingering well past her departure, Tyrion closed his eyes letting his gaze fall to the ground. 

“Brother” Jamie lets out, his eyes narrowing to him. 

“She’s beautiful isn’t she” Tyrion finally lets out after a moment of silence. His hand adjusts his dick as he lets out a low chuckle. “Even beautiful feels like an insult” 

Jamie didn’t utter a word, he couldn’t. Anger built up him, festering in the pit of his stomach. His fist clenches at his side as he gazes in the darkness. 

He must see her tonight.

[jonsnowunemploymentera]

Randomly struck me how Arya's first trip down to the Winterfell crypts seems to parallel Jon's recurrent crypt dreams on one particular motif - a dead king rising.

Robb took them all the way down to the end, past Grandfather and Brandon and Lyanna, to show them their own tombs. Sansa kept looking at the stubby little candle, anxious that it might go out. Old Nan had told her there were spiders down here, and rats as big as dogs. Robb smiled when she said that. “There are worse things than spiders and rats,” he whispered. “This is where the dead walk.” That was when they heard the sound, low and deep and shivery. Baby Bran had clutched at Arya’s hand. When the spirit stepped out of the open tomb, pale white and moaning for blood, Sansa ran shrieking for the stairs, and Bran wrapped himself around Robb’s leg, sobbing. Arya stood her ground and gave the spirit a punch. It was only Jon, covered with flour. “You stupid,” she told him, “you scared the baby,” but Jon and Robb just laughed and laughed, and pretty soon Bran and Arya were laughing too.

Arya IV, AGOT

Last night he had dreamt the Winterfell dream again. He was wandering the empty castle, searching for his father, descending into the crypts. Only this time the dream had gone further than before. In the dark he’d heard the scrape of stone on stone. When he turned he saw that the vaults were opening, one after the other. As the dead kings came stumbling from their cold black graves, Jon had woken in pitch-dark, his heart hammering. Even when Ghost leapt up on the bed to nuzzle at his face, he could not shake his deep sense of terror. He dared not go back to sleep. Instead he had climbed the Wall and walked, restless, until he saw the light of the dawn off to the east. It was only a dream. I am a brother of the Night’s Watch now, not a frightened boy.

Jon VIII, ASOS

In Jon's dream, he's a witness to the Stark kings rising to confront him. But in Arya's POV, Jon is the dead rising from a tomb to confront them.

It's just funny because a common theme in Jon's crypt dreams is how he doesn't belong. He voices the rejection to himself - he's not a Stark, he has no place.

Jon shook his head. “No one. The castle is always empty.” He had never told anyone of the dream, and he did not understand why he was telling Sam now, yet somehow it felt good to talk of it. “Even the ravens are gone from the rookery, and the stables are full of bones. That always scares me. I start to run then, throwing open doors, climbing the tower three steps at a time, screaming for someone, for anyone. And then I find myself in front of the door to the crypts. It’s black inside, and I can see the steps spiraling down. Somehow I know I have to go down there, but I don’t want to. I’m afraid of what might be waiting for me. The old Kings of Winter are down there, sitting on their thrones with stone wolves at their feet and iron swords across their laps, but it’s not them I’m afraid of. I scream that I’m not a Stark, that this isn’t my place, but it’s no good, I have to go anyway, so I start down, feeling the walls as I descend, with no torch to light the way. It gets darker and darker, until I want to scream.” He stopped, frowning, embarrassed. “That’s when I always wake.” His skin cold and clammy, shivering in the darkness of his cell. Ghost would leap up beside him, his warmth as comforting as daybreak. He would go back to sleep with his face pressed into the direwolf’s shaggy white fur. “Do you dream of Horn Hill?” Jon asked.

Jon IV, AGOT

He dreamt he was back in Winterfell, limping past the stone kings on their thrones. Their grey granite eyes turned to follow him as he passed, and their grey granite fingers tightened on the hilts of the rusted swords upon their laps. You are no Stark, he could hear them mutter, in heavy granite voices. There is no place for you here. Go away. He walked deeper into the darkness. “Father?” he called. “Bran? Rickon?” No one answered. A chill wind was blowing on his neck. “Uncle?” he called. “Uncle Benjen? Father? Please, Father, help me.” Up above he heard drums. They are feasting in the Great Hall, but I am not welcome there. I am no Stark, and this is not my place. His crutch slipped and he fell to his knees. The crypts were growing darker. A light has gone out somewhere. “Ygritte?” he whispered. “Forgive me. Please.” But it was only a direwolf, grey and ghastly, spotted with blood, his golden eyes shining sadly through the dark …

Jon VIII, ASOS

Yet Arya's POV shows that Jon does have a place. Not only that, but he becomes a resident of the crypts as a ghost. There's the implication too that he spends more time in there than all his siblings as he waits for them to arrive. Then when they do, he rises out of his own tomb like the dead Kings of Winter rise out of theirs in his dreams.

Bran's POV also says that only Starks belong in the crypts.

After that, oddly, Rickon decided he liked the Walders. They never played lord of the crossing again, but they played other games—monsters and maidens, rats and cats, come-into-my-castle, all sorts of things. With Rickon by their side, the Walders plundered the kitchens for pies and honeycombs, raced round the walls, tossed bones to the pups in the kennels, and trained with wooden swords under Ser Rodrik’s sharp eye. Rickon even showed them the deep vaults under the earth where the stonemason was carving father’s tomb. “You had no right!” Bran screamed at his brother when he heard. “That was our place, a Stark place!” But Rickon never cared.

Bran I, ACOK

It seems that Snow or Targaryen, bastard or trueborn, it doesn't actually matter. At the end of the day, Jon will always be one of them: a Stark son, and a true King of Winter.

[agentrouka-blog]

Hiiiiiiii :3 I’m here with another stupid (😎) ask :33

What do you think of Sansa’s line “my father and I have other concerns” when she and Maester Colemon are talking about giving Sweetrobin sweet milk. Maester Colemon objects to Sansa’s demand that SR be given sweetmilk again when going down the mountain. She’s pretty adamant about SR sweetmilk even as Maester Colemon shows concerns about nosebleeds. Many have theorised this as Sansa knowingly poisoning SR and has been touted as the Sansa = villain (🙄) theory by the antis pretty steadfastly. Does Sansa know about poisoning SR? What other concerns do she and LF have? Is she actually poisoning SR or is she just irritated with him and wants him to shut up?

Hello!

Neither. She's genuinely concerned with Sweetrobin's future as Lord of the Vale, after GRRM has taken care to insert not one but two shaking fits into the previous chapters that leave him incapacitated and soiled, and which are generally treated with "medicine" just as harsh or worse, like high level narcotics, alcohol or leeching and bleeding. .

This stuff is rightfully seen as an improvement. He's awake, calm, not losing blood or ingesting addictive substances.

And while he hedges and mutters, Colemon never comes right out and states "It could kill him". He lets a distracted Alayne cut him off or trails off by himself. And he eventually relents, giving the appearance that his concerns are not that serious.

And Alayne is rightfully distracted. After a peacefully resolved siege against the rule of Littlefinger (guardian of Sweetrobin), they are coming down to spend the winter with Lord Nestor, accessible to the Vale lords (his future subjects who need to respect him) for the first time in a long time. And the descent itself is also very dangerous, as we will be shown.

“The Lord of the Eyrie cannot descend from his mountain tied up like a sack of barleycorn.” Of that Alayne was certain. They dare not let the full extent of Robert’s frailty and cowardice become too widely known, her father had warned her. [...] “It was too soon. My lady, you do not understand. As I’ve told the Lord Protector, a pinch of sweetsleep will prevent the shaking, but it does not leave the flesh, and in time …” “Time will not matter if his lordship has a shaking fit and falls off the mountain. If my father were here, I know he would tell you to keep Lord Robert calm at all costs.” “I try, my lady, yet his fits grow ever more violent, and his blood is so thin I dare not leech him any more. Sweetsleep … you are certain he was not bleeding from the nose?” [...] “Very well.” They paused at the foot of the stairs. “But this must be the last. For half a year, or longer.” “You had best take that up with the Lord Protector.” She pushed through the door and crossed the yard. Colemon only wanted the best for his charge, Alayne knew, but what was best for Robert the boy and what was best for Lord Arryn were not always the same. Petyr had said as much, and it was true. Maester Colemon cares only for the boy, though. Father and I have larger concerns.

(AFFC, Alayne II)

That's his future she is trying to protect. Not to mention, this is before she ever learns about Harry the Heir. Why on earth would she support poisoning him, when Littlefinger's protection of her depends on his role as Sweetrobin's guardian?

This is the same Sansa that is planning his new bodyguard crew in her TWOW sample chapter, who considers what his future wife will love about him, the same Sansa whose gentle care even Colemon acknowledges helps Sweetrobin calm himself without medicine. No, she is not knowingly poisoning the kid.

(Also, Maester Colemon may well be playing his own game, giving him antidotes or refusing to administer doses, depending on how you want to interpret the fact that Sweetrobin still suffers a shaking spell on the mountain, and the "vile" substance mixed into his milk without explanation.)

[chejuu]

20 questions for writers

thank you @wingdingery for the tag and excuse to self-indulgently talk about myself <3

1. how many works do you have on AO3? 17 on cheju, then 11 more on my various and sundry accounts 🫣

2. what's your total AO3 word count? 73,122 on cheju, a total of 110,145

3. what fandoms do you write for? nightwing + some original work as of late + various fandoms i used to be in that people request in fic exchanges

4. what are your top 5 fics by kudos? like two days ago bad desire just surpassed the kudos of a ten-year-old sansa/margaery fic i published on my old account. wow! please ignore that i was writing smut at 16

setting aside my other accounts, then it’s diesis (smut), listen to teeth (smut), sex, lies, and audiotape (mafia au. also smut), and exactly what it looks like (silly identity porn crack)

5. do you respond to comments? always!

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? down together leaves it open but probably fits the bill, in that the sex makes things significantly worse between slade and dick

7. what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Rescued Slut Thanks His Studly Savior is established relationship sladick fluff (if pure smut can be fluff i guess) which i thought i would never write so maybe that. or better now, but it's about theater camp (2023) which is already a feel-good comedy movie to begin with

8. do you get hate on fics? not yet. i feel like it's a rite of passage, tho. quick someone send me hate

9. do you write smut? If so, what kind? it’s like... all i do

10. do you write crossovers? no, but never saying never!

11. have you ever had a fic stolen? nope

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? nope!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? i think i’d be too embarrassed

14. What's your all-time favorite ship? gotta be drarry (sorry sladick)

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you will? i plan to finish all my wips eventually, even the unpublished ones! at least any that have made it out of the notes app and into a word doc. the only one that maaay not make it is a recursive fic (author permission granted!) based on a popular sladick story—i’m a bit nervous about not living up to the original 🙈

16. What are your writing strengths? character voice, i think, and banter in particular. sexual tension, smut. so i've been told!

17. What are your writing weaknesses? i hardly write anything longer than a single scene, let alone more than one chapter. the one time i've given it an earnest go, i've gotten so caught up in the weeds that i haven't updated in months T_T

i'd also like to get better at atmosphere. not so much descriptions of the setting, more like... creating a distinctive tone through detail, metaphor, word choice. sometimes i feel like unless i'm writing a very particular setting, the tone is just. nonexistent?

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? i honestly have zero thoughts

19. First fandom you wrote for? harry potter when was 14. wow it even has an A/N and everything

20. Favourite fic you've written? i think it’s bad desire so i’m glad the people agree hahah 

-

tagging @lordwisteria @roipecheur @mattdillon @thesubtextis @ontheropesss !

[welldonebeca]

Lookalike - Bonus chapter

With @cosmic-darikano Summary: Robb finds you leaving Winterfell and has an interesting proposal. WC: 3.6k words Warnings: Canon divergence. Smut. Role play. Virginity Kink. Dirty talk. Prostitution. Gentle sex. Possessive sex.

If you like my work, consider buying me a coffee or subscribing to my Patreon. It’s just $2 a month and helps a lot while I go through these hard times.

Masterlist

You strode through the halls with your bag over your shoulder, trying to keep yourself as quiet as possible as you walked through the dark walls. 

“Sansa?” someone called behind you in a new whisper. “Sansa!” 

You turned around, a little surprised and fearful, and stood straighter when a tall man walked to you.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, surprised.  

You blinked, unsure of what to say, recognising his voice as the same person who had knocked on Theon’s door. 

And then, you recognised him. 

Robb Stark, the heir to Winterfell. 

You bowed without thinking twice. 

“You have me confused with someone else, milord,” you said quickly. 

He strode a little back, and picked up a torch, taking it to your face, and you watched as his face moved from recognising you and then realising you were not his sister. 

“Gods,” he exclaimed under his breath. “It’s uncanny.” 

You gulped. 

“So I’ve heard,” you whispered. 

He opened his mouth, but stopped himself from speaking as he recomposed himself.

 “What are you doing here?” he asked. “This is not the servant’s quarters.”

You swallowed down, thinking about your lie. Yes, you could use the lie Theon had invented, but you were leaving now. You might as well be honest. 

At least it wasn’t Lord Stark you would have to confess to. 

“Lord Greyjoy invited me,” you said simply. “And now I’m leaving.” 

He looked like he was thinking for a moment before rolling his eyes, seeming to realise the truth. 

“That idiot,” he shook his head. “He shouldn’t have let you leave so late. You’ll freeze before you get wherever you’re going.” 

You scoffed. Didn’t he know you were a daughter of the north? You were well used to the cold. 

“Come,” he ordered anyway, holding out his hand. 

For a single second, you were grateful, thinking he would lead you to the servant’s quarters again, but quickly realised it wasn’t that when you started climbing up a new set of stairs. 

Of fucking course. 

Take the whore to your room, she will not say no to fucking you.

Still, you followed him, not knowing where else to go, and stood outside his door when he opened it. 

“Milord, there is no need,” you whispered, looking around, afraid of being caught. 

“My parents won’t be back for another fortnight if that’s what is worrying you,” he told you. “They are attending a wedding.” 

You looked for words. 

“Milord-” you started, and then corrected yourself, knowing how those fancy people liked their fancy names said right. “My lord, I’m not sure if you are thinking what I’m thinking.” 

He raised his chin. 

“You are a… woman of a certain profession,” he spoke slowly. “Aren’t you?” 

“A whore,” you told him. “Yes.” 

Lord Stark nodded. Gods, you were sore, he couldn’t possibly think you would want to fuck more. 

“But I have a hard day of work,” you reminded him. “You would not ask a farmer to work another field when he’s already settled his crops.”

He swallowed down, and you could see his eyes running over your face and your body, but then chuckled. 

“I supposed you’re right,” he agreed. “But I would compensate you if you just allow me to have your company for the rest of the night.”

You watched his face for a moment. Well, you were always a betting woman. 

Finally, you agreed, following him inside, and he offered to take your coat silently, pointing to a table by the corner of his chambers. 

“I have food,” he pointed out. “Have Theon fed you?” 

No, he hadn’t. You had had to have lunch with a few servants. 

“Go eat,” he commanded you. “The fire is warm.” 

You stepped away, sitting on the near table, and looked down when he knelt in front of you, slowly taking off your boots. 

Why was he being so nice?

You wanted to ask but didn’t want to push your luck, so you just ate, feeling his eyes on you as you did. 

“I’m sure you’ve heard all about it, but you are very beautiful,” Lord Stark noted. “You look a lot like my sister.” 

You chuckled. 

“Yes, I know that,” you smiled at him. 

Yet, his eyes continued to analyse you and raised a hand to his nose. 

“But you have a bit of a curve here,” he pointed out. “A bump. It’s charming.” 

You swallowed down, watching his face. 

Maybe he was like his half-brother and his ward friend. 

“And your eyes,” he pointed. “Look at me.” 

You raised your gaze to his face, obedient. 

“Her eyes become grey under the firelight,” he told you. “Yours look hazel. You have green on them, don’t you?:” 

You nodded simply. 

“My mother always said I had green speckles on them,” you answered simply. “I’ve never found a mirror good enough to see it.” 

Lord Stark walked closer to you, and put a finger under your chin, raising it. 

“Let me be yours, then,” he whispered, eyes still watching you. 

You swallowed down dryly, his gaze almost unsettling now. 

“You are more freckled,” he realised. “Sansa doesn’t let the sun touch her skin too much.”  

Of course she did. Prickly little lady. 

“I used to work in the fields with my father before he died,” you told him. “You’d be surprised at how much more freckled I could get.” 

“Is that why you’re here?” he asked. “Because he died?”

You looked at him uncomfortably. That was a sore subject. 

“I was an only child, milord,” he reminded you. “My mother was sick, and I needed to feed her and couldn’t keep the farm running. There are only a few jobs who will take a bony girl with no skills, and I am lucky I’m pretty.” 

Lord Stark pulled away. 

"Apologies," he sighed. "I hope I didn’t upset you."

You thought for a moment. In truth, he hadn’t. 

"You didn’t,” you assured him. “It’s good to talk about myself for once, in my line of work it can be hard to remember who you are."

He nodded, watching you with attentive blue eyes. 

“Would you leave it?” he asked. “Your line of work, if you had somewhere to go. Something else to do.” 

You watched him, confused. 

Somewhere to go? Something to do? You didn’t have any of that. 

“I’m not becoming your kitchen maid, Lord Stark,” you told him. 

Lord Stark chuckled. 

“I am not suggesting that,” he assured you. “It’s an honest question.” 

You relaxed in your seat, looking away, a little embarrassed by your quick assumptions. 

“I always wanted to be a seamstress,” you confessed. “My mother said my grandmother did that, that it gave their family a comfortable life down South.” 

He made an intrigued sound. 

“In the South?” he asked. “And why did she leave?”

You chuckled a bit. 

“She saw a handsome red-headed man with curls to die for, once,” you smiled, remembering your father. “Not very tall, but very sweet. And when he left, she followed him home.” 

Your parents were very much in love. He never thought little of her, even when they couldn’t have children, and they were both very good to you. 

“My mother taught me most of what I know,” you told him. “Her dresses were beautiful. Mine too, but… you know. Whore can’t show off pretty dresses.” 

“I would love to see your dresses,” he told you. 

You raised your eyes to his face, surprised. 

“Just for me,” he added in a whisper. 

You didn’t answer, wary, and Lord Stark licked his lips. 

“I’m sure you know of arrangements, of…” he looked for words. 

“Whores being exclusive?” you asked him. 

He pressed his lips together. 

“Yes,” he agreed. “That’s one way to put it.” 

You chuckled, understanding.  

“Then the word you might be looking for is mistress, my lord,” you decided. “You give her a house, pay for her servants…” 

“Yes,” he agreed. 

You watched his face, considering and waiting. 

“I’ll give you a house, of course. A big one, with servants I will pay for,” he listed. “And I’ll buy you houses that you can rent out so that you can have something concrete in your name while you build up your business.”

Houses and servants of your own? 

From a man that you had yet to fuck? 

It was too good to be true.  

“And what’s the catch?” you asked him. 

He pressed his lips together. 

“You’d have to play a part,” he told you. “When I’m with you. Make your hair in a special way, wear special clothes, special perfumes…” 

“Make myself look more like your sister,” you assumed. 

Lord Stark’s jaw clenched. 

Just like his bastard brother. 

“Oh, don’t look like that,” you scoffed. “I’m not here to judge you.” 

You tapped your fingers on the table, thinking. 

“Won’t your parents find out?” you asked. “If I am to become your mistress.” 

He looked at you, surprised by your question. 

“They trust me enough not to get in my business, and we’ll give them no reason to even think anything about you,” he assured you. “And even if they do, isn’t it best that I have my own mistress and don’t go around hiring prostitutes?” 

You continued to think. Being a whore wasn’t exactly something you loved doing. Not every man was nice and gentle, or even considerate enough with you. 

“Is that all you ask of me?” you asked him. “That I play her part?” 

He nodded. 

It was nice, trying to think of what could go wrong. 

“And what if you get tired of me?” you asked. 

“You’ll have your houses,” he reminded you. “And your business.” 

“And what about children?” you asked him. “What if I get with child?” 

Lord Stark looked at your face, shaking his head as he seemed to think. 

“I would ask you that, if you want a child,” he spoke slowly. “You wait. Until I’ve had my wife, and my own children. If you do not, I’m afraid our agreement will be finished, and your pregnancy too.” 

Smart, very smart.  You squinted at him. 

“Are you afraid a son of mine might want to take your seat from your legitimate children?” 

“I might have strange ideas, but I’m not a fool, my dear,” he reminded you. “If we have a good relationship, I might give you a child for you not to feel lonely. But I’ll have my heirs before I risk having any bastard.” 

He was reasonable. He was also very sure that you would stay with him for that long of a time, that you’d never part your ways. 

“You sound like you know I’ll be around for a long time,” you smirked. 

Lord Stark stared you in the face with desire in his gaze. 

“I do,” he agreed. “If I wanted someone for a short time, I wouldn’t have a mistress.” 

You hummed, and Lord Stark continued to watch you, expectant. 

“What do you say, my dear?” he asked, at least. 

You looked at his face, realising, at last, how he didn’t even know your name. 

“Y/N,” you told him. “My name is Y/N.” 

Lord Stark simply nodded, waiting. 

“Alright,” you agreed. “I’ll be your mistress after you buy me my house.” 

He smirked, chuckling. 

“Smart girl,” he agreed. “It’ll be done this week. I’ll have a man take you from your brothel as soon as it is done.” 

You smiled, resting, and he cleared his throat. 

“But… do you mind if I take some… early liberties?” he asked. “An early experience of my own.” 

Another no-surprise. 

“Of course, my lord,” you confirmed. 

“Robb,” he corrected you. 

You changed your posture, softening your voice. 

“Of course, Robb,” you answered instead. 

He smiled, at last, and walked to you, kneeling by your feet. 

“You’re such a pretty girl,” he spoke softly. “Did you braid your hair for me?” 

Men. Always thinking all pretty things were done for them. 

“Oh yes!” you giggled a little. “Do you like it?” 

He smiled. 

“Yes, I do...” Robb hummed, pulling you close and standing up, raising you along with him. “It looks very pretty.” 

You nodded along, and he pulled you, switching places with you and sitting back down. 

“You haven’t finished your dinner yet,” he realised. “You should do so.” 

His hands moved to your hips, and he tugged you gently. 

“Here,” he spoke softly. “Take a seat.” 

You tried to play innocent, sitting on your dear brother’s lap, and relaxed against his chest when he put his arms around your waist. 

“Always smelling so good, pretty girl,” he purred. “I need to get you another bottle of that oil, don’t I?” 

Your eyes widened. 

The fucking oil! 

Theon must have stolen it from Lady Sansa. 

“It’s almost over,” you mumbled, instead, taking a bite of the bread. 

His hands skimmed your waist, lower and lower, touching your hip.

Robb caressed you slowly and you could feel your dress being pulled up bit by bit, slowly and almost sneakily. 

“Open your legs for me, will you?” he whispered into your neck. “Be nice for your big brother.” 

He pushed your dress and put his hand on your thigh. 

“Robb!” you gasped. 

He just shushed you. 

“It’s alright,” he hummed. “It’s just me, Sansa.” 

He climbed up, and you shivered. Maybe because this was so illicit, or you were just too sensitive from being touched so much just before he did. 

“Am I not nice to you?” he asked softly. “Don’t I give you such nice gifts?” 

“Yes,” you squirmed. 

“Don’t I always protect you?”

“Of course, Robb.”

He hummed along, hand continuing to climb up as he kissed your cheek. 

“I have to make sure you’re okay,” he purred. “That you’re feeling good.” 

He spread your legs more, and his hand stopped right at your cunt, and you could feel his body tense. 

“Is this cum in your cunt, Sansa?” he asked in a near growl. 

You gasped. 

“No!” you protested.

He pushed two fingers into your cunt, not even waiting for you to look for words to explain yourself. 

“And why is this cunt all lose, uh?” he asked. “Taking my two fingers like that, all smeared with wetness?” 

You squirmed, and he grabbed your neck, pulling you flush against his body, and you moaned when his heel pressed your bud. 

“Why is this pussy so sensitive if I hadn’t even touched it before?” he growled. 

You moaned, squirming as he moved his hand with a maddening pace, slapping your skin as he did. 

“Who has been fucking you?” he accused, furious.

You wanted to deny it, but you knew you couldn’t. 

“I’m sorry, Robb,” you whimpered. “I’ve just been aching so much I need to be filled, I… I had my hairbrush, and…” 

Robb pushed you off of his lap, and you expect him to take you to his bed, but he just made you lay across his thigh, and pulled your dress and shift up, exposing your bare bottom. 

“You fucked yourself with your hairbrush?” he growled, “Like a stupid slut?” 

He moved his hand down, slapping your ass. 

“Bad girl, Sansa,” he smacked you again. “Very bad girl.”

You cried out, pouting, but he didn’t stop. 

“I’m sorry, Robb,” you insisted. 

“As your older brother, I have to punish you,” he affirmed simply. “I can’t have my baby sister acting like a stupid slut around the rest of Winterfell.”

His hand smacked your cheeks, and you yelped when it hit your cunt, slapping your folds. 

“I just wanted to be filled,” you argued. “I’m sorry, Robb, I’m sorry.” 

He hummed along with you. 

“You want to be filled, sweet girl?” he smacked your ass. 

“I should have come to you,” you whined, feeling his cock against your belly, hard and ready. “I’m sorry.” 

He stopped. 

“What did you say?” he asked, voice softening. 

“All I want is my brother’s cock,” you insisted. “I’m sorry, Robb, I’m so sorry.” 

Robb stopped, and his hand slowly moved down your ass, caressing it for a moment, soothing your ache. 

“Oh, sweet Sansa,” he hummed. 

Suddenly, he pulled you off his lap and lifted you up, making you stand, and put his finger under your chin. 

“You want my cock Sansa?” he whispered. “Want me to fill you up?”

You nodded, and he picked you up, carrying you to his bed. 

“You should have asked me,” he spread your legs. “You could have just told me, sweet girl.” 

Robb moved a hand to his pants, and you watched as he pulled his cock out, gasping for a second. 

Gods. He was fucking thick. 

Not ‘whore fakes surprise’ thick, actually thick. 

"I’m the only one that can fill you up. Not a stupid brush, me!” he rubbed the head of his cock against your folds. “I’m your big brother who is always here for you.” 

“Yes, Robb,” you whimpered, and gasped when he pulled you, flipping you on the bed and raising your ass. 

“Like that, sweet girl,” he growled. 

Before you could even think, he was already rubbing himself on your entrance. 

“Wait!” you gasped. “It’s too big.”

He clearly didn’t care, and you bit into the closest pillow when a moan a little too loud broke through your lips as his cock pushed into you, stretching your walls, both making you ache and giving you pleasure. 

“You can take it,” he hissed. “You can take all of it.” 

Robb pulled back and pushed into you, more and more, and all you could do was grab the sheets, moaning as your sore cunt was used again. 

“Good Sansa,” he panted. “Such a good girl for me, such a good little sister.” 

You whimpered into his pillows, and gasped when his balls hit your sensitive bud, and he buried his cock all into you, bottoming out. 

“Robb,” you moaned. 

He pulled back, fucking you hard and fast, his hips hitting your ass so hard you could hear it in your ears and feel it sting as much as his hands had done. 

“Sweet little Sansa,” he grunted. “All mine.” 

“All yours,” you cried. 

His cock rubbed against your sweet spot, and felt yourself getting close just your ass burned. 

“Please, Robb,” you cried. “I need…” 

He slammed into you once more. 

“What do you need?” he moved his hand around you, pinching your bud, and you screamed. 

“I’m so close,” you panted. “I need to cum, big brother, please.” 

His finger circled your bud, testing it, and you felt your cunt fluttering around him. 

“Is this the place you want me to play with, sweet Sansa?” he asked, cock slamming into you. “Is this how you want me to make you cum?” 

You nodded, whimpering. 

“Yes,” you cried. “Please, Robb, please.” 

“Then cum for me, pretty girl.” 

You closed your eyes, and he played with you, quick and insistent, holding you close as you cried into his pillow, peaking so loudly it was almost embarrassing. 

Robb continued to fuck you carelessly, stretching your cunt out to the brink as he brushed down your hair, rubbing his nose over your skin, taking every single drop of your scent. 

“My pretty girl,” he hummed. “I’m going to cum in you, sweet Sansa. And you are going to take it, aren’t you?” 

You whimpered, too overwhelmed now, and he kissed the back of your neck. 

“Robb,” you cried, remembering who you were supposed to be. “We can’t.” 

Lady Sansa couldn’t have her brother spilling inside her, she couldn’t risk having his bastard baby. 

“I’ll give you tea, sweet girl,” he promised. “No one will know, you don’t need to worry.” 

You cried, but he didn’t seem to even care, grabbing your hips, hammering into you in an erratic rhythm.

“My Sansa,” he growled. “Taking my seed like a good little sister, letting me put my baby into your womb.” 

You just lied there, moaning along. 

“And you’re going to take all of it,” he rambled. “Every night now, aren’t you, sweet girl? ‘Cause you’re mine now, all mine.” 

You felt his shuddering as he came inside you, but he didn’t stop pushing his cock into you. 

"We're a pack,” he hugged, finally stopped, burying his cock so deep it made you ache, as if he was trying to make sure his see would stay inside. “I will give you so many pups, sweet girl.” 

He stopped, at last, kissing the middle of your back, and you expect him to pull out and let you go. Instead, Robb took his cock from inside you and pulled you along to lie by his side, holding you close.

“My Lord,” you sighed. 

You had to leave before they noticed you.

“Stay here,” he squeezed your middle, kissing your shoulder. “You can leave in the morning.” 

You hesitated, unsure.

“We’ll pretend you were a kitchen girl,” he spoke softly. “Say you didn’t get the job, and I was nice enough to walk you out.” 

Still, you were unsure, and he just brushed your hair back. 

“I’m acting lord of Winterfell,” he reminded you. “It is fine.” 

You forced yourself to relax in his arms. It wasn’t the gossip that worried you - let the people talk, she didn’t plan to step into Winterfell anytime again soon - but Sansa Stark. 

You couldn’t bear to face her if you accidentally walked past her. What would you even do, seeing the woman you were going to pretend to be for… well, you didn’t even know how long, starting now. 

Still, you were a whore. Well… a soon-to-be mistress - the whore of a single man - and this was the man you had to obey. 

So, you tried to get comfortable, and it was easy. Lord Robb held you close in his strong arm, warmer and sweeter than anything you had ever experienced in your life in a protective hold that rocked you to sleep.

Well, there were many worse places you could be. This wasn’t bad. It wasn’t bad at all. 

. . .

"Lookalike" was posted on my Patreon back in October 2022! To read have early access to my stories, consider subscribing to my page! It's just $2 a month, and it helps a lot!

. . .

No tags because I realised I don't know if the people in the taglist is alright with this content.

[dontbotherwiththepronunciation]

EDIT UPON LAST READING:

This was written on the 30th of may mostly because I got in trouble with a subset of sansa fans at the time and I felt like I should try to joy in her character again. I am no longer sick, I no longer feel like talking about romance, I no longer feel like talking about Sansa but doing this was fun and I am always curious

For the sake of this post, and only this post, I will refer to the term "ship" or any derivatives of the word as "feeling interested by a dynamic's fanon, semi- or canon romantic connotations".

Can't believe I have to say this but god people can get so unnecessarily mean. Before people start being pedantic about something as harmless as rarepairs, it seems like I really will have to say: I don't believe in any of these options possible canon endgames. Many of these have not even interacted. I deserve to have fun with stuff as trivial as dumb inconsequential fanon ships. 

Under the cut I wrote down my preferences + linked some fanwork simply because I’m in a shipping mood after reading some folkloric myths and I don’t really have any strong opinions on ships, and the few NOTPS I have are more about the way fandom treats the ship than the actual ship on itself, but I am completely ill and not healthy enough to do anything more serious and rarepairs are fun. You don’t have to read it or write one yourself, I just feel like talking and recommending fanfics.

On the other hand, if you do want to recommend me fanwork of any type, or share a prompt or show me a wip or just simply hype your rarepair please do so! Everything goes as long as it's a rarepair (less than 500 fics on ao3).

1. Sansa Stark x Brienne of Tarth

Listen, were it not for Brienne and Jaime being clearly written to be read as semi-canon-going-canon and were this book not written by a straight cis white male US American baby boomer democrat, I would be delusionally screaming this is going to be the one canon ship! This would be my protagonist endgame ship for which I would take the mildest coincidence as foreshadowing and die on that hill.

I am coming for you, Lady Sansa. Be not afraid. I shall not rest until I've found you. - Brienne I, AFFC

(Subversions of lady/princess & knight/prince where both are women and one of them is searching for the other and I'll become her Prince and save her! and-)

I just really love how so many of Brienne's issues are tied to her femininity. She does not fit into the traditional idea of womanhood, she wishes she would, she does not want to, she is rejected by the concept and she rejects the concept. And yet, when she distances herself from every possible reminder of her own femininity and takes up a man's armour and sword, she is reminded of her place as a woman and told to conform to her gender.

And then we have Sansa, who romanticises stories about Ladies and Knights; first out of genuine love and admiration for them, and later as a coping mechanism when cruel reality tells her that those ideals are sadly nowhere near true.

This is her knight. This is her strong, brave knight.

My only problem with Briennsa is how we shippers sometimes tend to put Brienne in a position of servitude to Sansa or the Starks and ignore how she is the heir to an island, has a father whom she loves and wishes to see again, and is still on a quest. Hell, she might be Azor Ahai, with her weirwood dream in which she fights White Walkers + her father's sword Lightbringer, out of all the Azor Ahai tinfoil theories this is the one I think has the most canon support. She is not a Hyle Hunt type of errand knight who is just walking around Westeros for the sake of traveling and finding a job, and once the war is over and she has kept her oath, it would be nice to see her going home and proceeding with her life and independence, maybe taking Podrik with her. I would like her to see her father again and see there being love between them.

My nonsensical fantasies involve Brienne being like "Alright, I found one of the Stark girls, still have to find the other one. I'm taking her to Tarth where she'll be safe and have no creeps around who would bother her." and Sansa just completely falling in love with Brienne on the way there.

Also, I would die for the comedic potential of Brienne of Tarth, mockingly refered to as "Brienne the beauty", having a trail of people fawning over her. This post is one of my favourite posts in the world.

To be honest, while I do enjoy the idea of Sansa going North to reunite with her family, I also have a strong fondness for the concept of her actually staying South. I know this is an unpopular opinion that Sansa fans seem to particularly dislike because of the whole "SaNsA iS nOt A rEaL sTaRk" thing, but there is something about lands of childhoods being unretournable. Stepping out of home means never seeing it again. "I am stronger within the walls of Winterfell" perhaps, but the walls of Winterfell were burned and the one Winterfell native who got to go back to Winterfell didn't get to be strong or safe.

I would like to be wrong though, and I think I will be wrong! But still, it would be nice for her to discover a South that is closer to the dreams of chivalry and court she had and perhaps Tarth could be that place, even if only for a short time.

Well, here is a canon-divergent AFFC fanfic in which Brienne finally makes it to the Vale. It has a lot of fairy tale imagery and an interesting characterisation between the Sansa-Alayne personas.

2. Sansa Stark x Jeyne Westerling

"That's what I'll give you, Lady Sansa. Your brother's head." A kind of madness took over her then, and she heard herself say, "Maybe my brother will give me your head." - Sansa VI, AGOT

You know how Catelyn and Ellaria both at least got to say goodbye to the remains of their loved ones? Jeyne didn't. Neither did Sansa.

My weird fantasy involves Jeyne Westerling (MY Queen in the North) finally getting Robb's head, even if it's just the skull, and showing it to Sansa. A subversion in a way. Joffrey would have done it in malice and sadism, Jeyne would do it it with care, maybe a feeling of responsibility over what remains of her husband's family.

I have a lot of issues with Robb Stark and the way he is perceived in fandom, I keep hating him until I read the source material again and realise "oh wait, fanon≠canon", but I just think his relationships with the women surrounding him are fascinating and they don't get explored a lot. Sansa doesn't know about him cutting her out of the inheritance line and I wonder how she and Jeyne, the other woman who is a Stark but would no longer be accepted as one by a majority of the Northern lords, would feel about him. I wonder how love, resentment, grief and guilt would mix between the two. I don't think Jeyne is pregnant, but if she somehow ends up caring for Robb's heir (be it Jon, Sansa, or an eventual child we refer to as his) I would love that. I like imagining that Jeyne could learn more about Robb, the boy, since she seems to have only gotten to know Robb, the man and King. I like daydreaming of Sansa and Jeyne talking about Catelyn, whom both admire.

I think both of them, based on what we know of Jeyne, share some similitudes in the way they behave conforming to their gender and what is considered a Lady's attitude while still having moments of defiance and I think Sansa could maybe appreciate that. Sometimes, not often, but sometimes, she speaks of "madness taking over her" and, in my opinion, this is usually when she steps out of her own safety to be brave or bold (standing up to Joffrey, trusting Dontos, trying to hide her first menstruation) and I think it could be nice to see her realising these are not things she should be ashamed of. It always reminds me of Jeyne tearing up her clothes and fighting her mother. Jeyne Westerling, like most Jeynes, doesn't get treated very well in fandom. I hate how the interpretation of Robb breaking his vows to marry her is always one putting him as a selfless saint who practically sacrificed himself for a girl he didn't even love when the fact this all plays so mysteriously can open so many possibilities.

And it seems to me people forget how metal she became.

Sometimes Sansa's f/f ships tend to get simplified to "girls being girls and doing girly things together" and I understand why people enjoy that and they are valid for doing so, but in my case I usually prefer to have a little more conflict to it and I think this ship can balance the "girls making flowercrowns and braiding each others hair" and "exploration of complex feelings and estrangement" well enough for me to find it interesting.

Here is a fanfic I'd recommend that takes place in Winterfell with a reluctant Queen Sansa and lots of survivor's guilt + an edit done for said fanfic!

3. Sansa Stark x Garlan Tyrell

When Joff had her beaten, the Imp defended her, not Littlefinger. When the mob sought to rape her, the Hound carried her to safety, not Littlefinger. When the Lannisters wed her to Tyrion against her will, Ser Garlan the Gallant gave her comfort, not Littlefinger. - Sansa I, AFFC

(Yes, I know all those allies are kind of perpetuating her misery too, but she seems to have some affection for them. The reasons behind the affection can be discussed and dissected to examine whether that affection should be there or not, but as of now I don't want to talk about that. People can cherrypick to their own wishes.)

Not something I like to visualise as an endgame because Garlan seems to be quite happy with Leonette and I honestly think Margaery and Sansa's break up/middle school betrayal might not be as easily solvable as we wished, but I like thinking about Sansa & Garlan.

I like Sansa but she is fetishising a gay man who just lost the love of his life when she has a broader shouldered, bearded, straight person who looks very similar to said gay man who is called Garlan the Gallant and how can she be so blind? Why is her unrealistic teenage crush so poorly chosen? Garlan is so humble and his name is so fitting. He is more chivalrous and mature than Lawrence and he is so strong and agreeable and he treats her and Tyrion with respect. He takes her out to dance and makes her laugh and if going by how she describes the Tyrells, then he is so very handsome too and- Why are you laughing? - My father, swooning over Garlan the Gallant on the phone

I do like imagining her having a bit of a very one-sided mild crush sometimes, not something serious but one of those light early adolescent crushes you won't ever act on. Sansa finding moments to daydream and cherish in the hell of a life she is living in King's Landing where se feels cared for, even if it is by someone who is not particularly invested in her. Admiring Leonette and wondering how happy she must be, without ever being truly envious or malicious but simply wishing she had something similar. So, less actual romantic interest but more of a one-sided "I wish" in response to unexpected and (hopefully) genuine emotional help.

I usually prefer gap fillers in fanfiction and I am so eagerly waiting for a gap filler of Sansa's time in King's Landing where she gets to interact more with Garlan and Leonette. Where we see her being wistful and melancholic, longing for her dreams of courtship, chivalry and the sort of love that would be a mix between that which she has heard in songs and witnessed between her parents. Having small moments of joy feeling like a girl again for allowing herself those dreams and realising they can be true.

It's a pity there aren't many fanfics or fan art focusing on their canon or fanon dynamic. I like them a lot.

4. Sansa Stark x Myranda Royce

This is the light to C€rsei x Ta€na's darkness. I love them as friends and I would rather keep them as friends, and for some reason I ship Myranda x Mya, but I enjoy the ship A LOT! Out of the female connection's Sansa builds as the story goes on, I think their dynamic is the most endearing one, and I live in fear of GRRM turning Myranda into Sansa's new villain. I talked a bit about them in the later part of that one post, and I don't have a lot more to add, I just genuinely enjoy their dynamic and how natural Sansa's friendship with her is. I think Myranda embodies certain aspects of Margaery and Jeyne, but until now she is more genuine than Margaery was, and Sansa is also more mature in her treatment of her compared to Jeyne. I just like them.

So, if Myranda gets to wake up the sapphicness in Sansa, I would not complain. She spends so much time flirting with her! I love her for that. "You do turn such a pretty shade of pink.”, "So you're brave as well as beautiful, "I can see how virtuous you are just by looking at those rosy cheeks and big blue eyes of yours."

Sometimes I see this small fraction of fandom being mistrusting of Myranda and I honestly think we are just falling into Littlefinger's trap when we do that. If Petyr tells Sansa not to befriend Myranda, then I will 100% hope Sansa has the common sense to befriend Myranda. Don't take Myranda's derogative comment about Alayne's "Bastard breasts" as genuine, her literal bff/girlfriend is a bastard herself. Nah, but seriously, do we really think that Mya Stone who has been struggling with feelings of abandonment since before we even met her would be "as close as sisters" with Myranda Royce if she truly were a classist evil schemer? I honestly think Littlefinger might be a little afraid of her. She is shrewd, she might not be on board with her father's alliance with Petyr. Maybe that is why she is being threatened by her father to be married to a suitor she wouldn't approve of.

I might be wrong though, who knows. I do understand how her constant bawdy jokes could have also been a method for disorienting and questioning her but the twow preview chapter made me doubt it. For some reason I find her more genuine than Margaery, but as said I'm open to being very wrong about this.

Anyway, here is a small Drabble + art someone made and it's cute and Myranda is funny. I love Myranda.

5. Sansa Stark x Harrold Hardyng

I didn't have a strong opinion on them but then I was sold on them by a fanfic. It seems like this is where canon might be heading and I'm honestly happy for Sansa if she gets to have her high school movie annoyance to lovers romance with a handsome-popular-everybody-wants-him Prep/Jock guy. Good for her. I don't think Harry is an evil person and I hope it remains that way. Depending on which approach GRRM takes to their relationship it could be very comedic while still holding the political plot for the Vale. Their interactions during the Alayne TWOW preview chapter were gold and everything I would expect from the high school AU set in the Middle Ages, this post encapsulates it, I want them to be cringe and weirdly out of place. All the important lords and ladies are talking politics while these two are constantly making everyone uncomfortable with weird one liners.

On the other hand, depending on how long Sansa has to keep up with the Alayne farce, it could also provide for some angst and explorations of identity issues. Lady Waynwood agreed to the betrothal on the condition that Harry himself would agree to it and find "Alayne" to his liking. And I will admit there is something that would be so sweet about Sansa being loved by Harry THE HEIR, as Alayne Stone, some petty lord's bastard.

It is not me she wants her son to marry, it is my claim. No one will ever marry me for love. - Sansa VI, ASOS

I would be so genuinely happy if she is proven wrong. And yes, the Alayne persona is not simply Sansa with another hair colour and name, but it is still part of her. It is a mask of her own face, smoother and only presenting that which she wants to present. It would be interesting to see an actual love story blossom out of this, while she is still painfully aware of their union being a machination of Littlefinger, maybe feeling guilt and insecurity over Alayne being made to play the seductress while Sansa is still underneath that facade wanting to be loved, being loved but not fully aware of it.

Anyway, here is a light angst fanfic about the Sansa-Alayne identity and Harry! It's probably one of my favourite Sansa fics ever, but warning for Petyr Baelish being himself!

+ I think people sleep on the concept of us readers getting to see Littlefinger "losing the girl" for the supposed prep/jock fuckboy again, that would be great.

Not a favourite, because I don't know a lot about Harrold except for that he is kind of a jerk, but I am a very canon person, so I'll probably end up tolerating/liking it if it actually gets to happen.

6. Sansa Stark x Myrcella Baratheon

I feel very weird about this one because I personally tend to distance myself from the captive x captor (including captor's family) ships in asoiaf when they are portrayed as something positive (nothing against those who like them, it's just a personal preference), but maybe because in this case both of them experience the position of hostage/ward and they didn't get to spend a significant amount of time together (two years at most), I am less appalled about possible scenarios in which they meet again in the future. Myrcella being passed off as legitimate when she is a bastard, Sansa being passed off as a bastard when she is legitimate, becoming pawns in political intrigues of others, being isolated from their families at a young age. Dorne treats Myrcella significantly better than King's Landing treated Sansa, but it still is the place where she was maimed and almost killed.

+ The fact that Myrcella is supposed to look almost exactly like Cersei (someone Sansa admired and wanted to emulate only to come to fear and hate her) but has none of her cruelty could be very interesting and torturous to explore if people want to write angst and get into Sansa's psychology. You can make this dark and macabre without having to open the bag with the dead dove.

Here is a (sadly abandoned) post ados fic in which Myrcella travels North as a ward to Lady Sansa, Warden of the North, sent by Queen Daenerys. Othe ships are also tagged, but since it was discontinued they don't appear. It has a very entertaining characterisation for Myrcella and it doesn't bash any of the girls mentioned, so I liked it.

7. Sansa Stark x Lancel Lannister

So, imagine a universe where Sansa chooses Lancel over Tyrion.

At the time, Lancel is still recovering from his wounds, if I remember correctly, and is experiencing his religious awakening. Imagine how different Sansa's arc would have been. Would she be the one seeking for some sort of connection between her and her husband? Lancel would probably have no interest in any possible romance, but he might be less indifferent with Sansa than he was with Amerei given how she aided him when he was wounded even when he had always been a passive participant in her abuse. Would she keep plotting and hoping for an escape with Dontos? Or would Lancel take her away from King's Landing? If he's not marrying Amerei, then he is not getting Derry, but perhaps Sansa could become a claim to Riverrun post-Red Wedding and that would be interesting to see. Sansa in her mother's home, retracing the steps of her parents, but this time differently, as an unwilling usurper to her uncle. Would she meet Jeyne once the Lannisters retake Riverrun?

Would there be a religious conflict between the two? I am an agnostic theology enthusiast, so I really love seeing how religion plays out in the story and since Sansa believes in the Seven Gods and the Old Gods, I think her dual faith would be interesting to see in opposition to Lancel's devotion for and indoctrination by the faith of the Seven.

+ both have Cersei related trauma and I am a sucker for "we share an abuser" dynamics.

I actually really love this possibility, but didn't came up with any of it on my own! What I wrote above is based on conversations between @team-mom-wannabe, @selkiewife and @nosafeanchorage. They created an entire AU for these two, with an astonishing amount of details and care, and then I had to go through the disappointment that is realising no one has ever written a fanfic centred on their possible marriage.

8. Sansa Stark x Val the Wildling

I really like Val. I know some people hate her because they claim she is "not like other girls" or because she wants Shireen to be killed, but I hate the way nlog rhetoric has developed and I come from a continent where 95% of the population was killed by foreigner's diseases (and also by the foreigners themselves of course), so yeah, I will never hold that against her. I understand why that is upsetting to others, but I'm different.

It's weird to me that although show!Sansa was given traits and storylines from many erased female characters and was kind of deprived of her own (and I still hate that show for that and so many other things), they never teased the concept of giving her a wildling partner! Tormund was a completely different character compared to his book counterpart, he was much younger, conventionally attractive and acted as the main leader of the Free Folk after Mance, so I thought they would maybe merge him with Sigorn and tease him and Sansa, but that didn't happen (I don't remember what happened to him. Did he die?). And I won't deny that the lack of a wilding/northerner marriage lead me to have some thoughts about how interesting it could be for her to meet someone from the free folk. And then, because I'm very very sapphic, Val came to my mind, another cool woman they erased. Beautiful and deadly. A subversion of the princess in a tower.

It's fun to see how both, Sansa and Val, are considered the keys to the North/the Free Folk when their titles are practically honorary; Val is not a real princess and the Free Folk wouldn't submit to anyone who forcibly married her, Sansa has been cut out of the inheritance line because she was made to marry an enemy whom the North would never allow into its territory. I think it would be entertaining to see them meet and observe possibly feelings of mutual respect grow and I just really like seeing people from different cultures interact. Free Folk's beliefs around courtship and how romance and marriage are always meant to carry some sort of violence are fascinating to me. The idea of being "stolen" is a concept I initially associated to non-consensual dynamics, but in fairy tales we often have characters saving the female heroine/love interest by stealing/rescuing them. The way women are often made to be objects of conquest or rewards in most folkloric stories and fairy tales conditions their rescue as theft, since they often belong to the villain only to be passed to another male character. This also is somewhat true in Sansa's case specifically with Tyrion and Petyr, although I would argue Petyr is a lot worse for Sansa than Tyrion. Anyway, I would really like to see how Sansa, who has always been on the edge of rape but has managed to avoid it (she has still been mistreated and fondled in situations of dubious consent, but not violated like Jeyne or Dany), would react to their customs.

+ depending on whether you believe in Sansa's possible complicity in the poisoning of Sweetrobin there could be soooo much room for projection and angst if she gets to see Val being motherly and so very loving to "her nephew" (even when it's not really her nephew and she knows) while still advocating for Shireen's death. Oh, that could be very very fun to read.

9. Sansa Stark x Podrick Payne

awwww he is crushing on his boss's wife! :D

I feel weird about this one being so low given how it's the only one in this bunch with some canon support. This is uncommon for me. It's probably simply because I find her dynamic with Tyrion more interesting, but this is cute anyway!

I do wonder why no one has thought more seriously about them in canon given how Pod is Brienne's traveling companion and might come to meet Sansa again sometime soon (if they survive LSH (on that note, I'd love it if he gets to tell her about Catelyn/LSH)).

I don't know. Podrick is a good kid and Sansa deserves good things. I just haven't found a lot of thematics in their possible dynamic that interest me, but I'm open to them.

+ Sansa's weird traumatic dreams involving Ilyn Payne. Someone make something out of this.

Sadly haven't found many fanfics that have sparked my interest, but I really like this gif-set!

10. Sansa Stark x Tristifer Botley

I had been wondering about this concept for a while and thought that in another universe where the war didn't happen or the possible Iron Islands/The North alliance was settled in terms that included more marriages between them, this could have been interesting, albeit improbable since House Botley isn't as relevant as House Stark, but interesting! And then I came across this really sweet post-ados fanfic by @/alleyskywalker in which Sansa is married to him to build bonds with the Islands since all realms are now independent again and I thought it was cute. Tris was lovely and I liked reading him. He is a character I feel conflicted about, but I don't think he is evil, I just didn't like the way he approached Asha. I jokingly refer to him as a nice guy™, but honestly he is just an actual nice guy with a gentle nature and romantic tendencies and I really love how he is a character whom Asha deems "too sweet for the Iron Islands", and still he is part of the Iron Islands and is accepted as one by the other Ironborn. Her claim is never backed on by anyone else.

His courteous and polite ways could probably match Sansa's dreams of chivalry very well. It would also be fun to see her adapt to the Islands, considering the Northerners' mistrust (and also some bigotry) for the Ironborn and how different their culture is compared to that of the southern courts that Sansa dreamed of and idealized. It could be fun.

My honour mentions in no particular order

Sansa Stark x Harras Harlaw

For similar reasons to Tristifer Botley, but although we know less about Harras' personality, we know he is a salt son and a knight, something most of his fellow Ironborn frown upon. To me, that is odd and fun to think about. Does he worship the Seven Gods AND the Drowned God simultaneously? His mother is a Serret of the Westerlands. Could she have been the one to make him be more fond of southern culture? I don't know, but I like to think that is the case and if so, I think him and Sansa could possibly have some things in common.

Sansa Stark x Mya Stone

Not one I'm actively searching stuff for, but I get a visit from my good ol' friend Sarah Tonin whenever I stumble upon it and I can understand why people are into it:

Baratheon x Stark (but f/f)

Bastard x Noble (but f/f + subverted because "Alayne")

Mya's connection to Catelyn (Lady Stoneheart would approve)

There is also the fact that Mya is one of the most honest and frank characters Sansa has met ever since the story began. I will defend Myranda but I think she is shrewd, Margaery...well we know how that ended...Mya is different! She doesn't seem to be hiding any secrets or have any ulterior motives in her friendliness. Her abandonment issues would be interesting to explore among with Sansa's overall introspection + her isolation in King's Landing and her new (and sadly well) founded mistrust for others.

Honestly, my favourite daydream just involves them having a conversation about Sansa's parents and Mya telling her all she can remember and consoling her, while being open about her own issues, but sadly I don't have any creative abilities and can't come up with anything beyond that.

Here is a short, but interesting, fanfic that takes place post AFFC, but was written before the TWOW preview chapters came out. I thought it was lovely.

Sansa Stark x Jeyne Poole

Kind of an obvious one and one I struggle with because I can see the appeal of childhood friends torn apart by war and then reuniting after both went through different hells, but the way fandom treats it often just annoys me. I think there are a few unaddressed issues that make it more difficult for me to enjoy the way it's portrayed in fanon. I guess we could say I like it as a rhænicent that never got truly toxic and just remained bittersweet with a few kneeps of resentment, feelings of inferiority and maybe some misplaced anger coming from Jeyne . There is a fanfic though that I think is unmatched when it comes to what I would like : (1) + (2) but warning for canon compliant Jeyne storyline fucked upness + mild ambiguous Theyne (the Jeynsa is ambiguous too, but in my opinion less than the theyne, and it is just as important, not a side-ship. Overall one of my favourite fics ever).

Rolly Duckfield

"He is as tall as Griff now. Three days ago he knocked Duck into a horse trough." "I wasn't knocked. I fell in just to make him laugh." - Tyrion III, ADWD

I love Duck. He reminds me of my best friend and I think Sansa could use someone like that in her life. I have nothing else to add.