#but fuck you too Lyanna

[kokoch4n3l]

lyanna and rhaegar, they can never make me like either of you

[mzcain27]

God the R+L=J theories have all been so valid since the very first book tbh

[a-chaotic-dumbass]

fascinated by how the asoiaf fandom refuses to have any nuance in the books that r entirely based on different perspectives

[tweedfrog]

Viserys life and family was falling down around him and he just spent all his time making tiny little city models I just know if he'd have had the most well respected little knick knack etsy store in the early 2010s and ignore every single summons he recieved to go to court and actually sort out his custody and child support arrangements with Alicent

[anxiousnerdwritings]

So I’ve had this idea of a Stark!Reader who is the twin brother to Lyanna for awhile now. Lyanna and Twin!Brother!Reader are as thick as thieves and take each other’s side no matter what, just overall real ride or dies for one another. Like, when Lyanna gets betrothed to Robert, Twin!Reader is the only one advocating for her knowing damn well she’d rather die then end up with Robert. Even though Reader is much smaller than Robert he’s willing to throw hands for his sister. At some point Twin!Brother!Reader gets sent off to train for whatever reason and comes back bigger than before and an excellent fighter. Be it sword, mace, spear, or fists he can do it all. He’s now where near as big as Robert but he’s still a force to be reckoned with.

And the last few asks regarding Himbo!Baratheon!Reader just made me think of him having his own Ned and Robert friendship of sorts. I really love the idea of a Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent type of dynamic between Twin!Brother!Stark!Reader and Himbo!Baratheon!Reader. But I especially really love the thought Himbo!Baratheon!Reader becoming obsessed with Lyanna’s twin brother. Himbo!Baratheon!Reader may have been everyone else’s awakening in Harrenhal but Twin!Brother!Stark!Reader was his. Like, this man is a lovesick puppy nipping at Twin!Brother!Stark!Reader’s heels. If Twin!Stark!Reader were to take the black then you can fucking bet Himbo!Baratheon!Reader is taking the Black too. He wouldn’t even have to think once about it.

I can just imagine Twin!Brother!Stark!Reader having already taken his oath and is now a member of the Night’s Watch only for Himbo!Baratheon!Reader to turn up unannounced one day and is just like “Hi! I’m here, what are we doing?😃”. And of course he didn’t tell anyone what he was gonna do so all of Westeros is in a panic cause he’s fucking missing now.

Plus, just Westeros in general being thrown into chaos cause both their most popular and eligible bachelors have taken the fucking black.

[jonsnowunemploymentera]

I’d honestly rather not talk about this topic because of the fandom toxicity that always surrounds it, but I think one of the more…should I say….interesting things to witness post HOTD has been the way fandom treats Jon Snow’s relationship with House Targaryen, and the effect that has on how they perceive his role in the larger (unfinished) narrative. Jon’s association with the Targs is more implied in the books because his parentage has not been revealed yet. But when you read the many companion stories released over the years like the Dunk and Egg novellas, The Rogue Prince, and Fire and Blood, you realize how much of House Targaryen is built around having Jon Snow as a foundation. I’m talking entire characters being Jon Snow clones or being created as a tiny hint-hint, nudge-nudge for ‘Jon the hidden Targaryen prince’. Sometimes, multiple characters within a certain period have elements of Jon; e.g., Jace, Addam, and Alyn Velaryon all being Jon Snow clones to varying degrees.

Jon was one of the very first characters ever created in this story many, many years ago. The first scene GRRM envisioned, of a family finding direwolf pups in the snow, gave birth to two characters who would be central to the entire series’ resolution: Jon and Bran. Then you read GRRM’s leaked outline and though he has since denounced it, it still says something important: Jon was always meant to be a secret royal prince. We can comfortably assume that he was created before most of the world’s history was set in stone. So when GRRM is building upon House Targaryen, which has thus far occupied the vast majority of the supplementary material, he injects elements of Jon into those characters. For example, Egg from D&E is very similar to Jon Snow personality wise. Bloodraven, who is from the same era and even has a role as Bran’s mentor in the main narrative, is created as foreshadowing for Jon Snow. Baelor Breakspear, also in these novellas, is how GRRM shows that Targaryen princes don’t always have the typical Valyrian look. Baelor favored his mother, as does Jon. Beyond just those novellas, he exists to inform on Jon, not just in look but in character too. Sometimes, Targaryen history is written to inform more tangentially on Jon’s own origins. Case in point, Prince Duncan and Jenny of Oldstones as parallels for Rhaegar and Lyanna.

Then we get to Fire and Blood which focuses so wholly on House Targaryen. And what I find interesting, and then frustrating at times, is how HOTD has morphed how we discuss this book. Because outside of HOTD, it’s easy to see how GRRM builds on Targaryen history with Jon in mind. And then we have the Dance of the Dragons. And this is where HOTD fucks up beyond measure. A lot of characters who existed during the Dance inform on Jon and his potential future. I’ve already mentioned the two Velaryon brothers, but I want to zero in on Jace because as one of the key players during this conflict, he is one of the most important ways in which GRRM links these historical characters to the (currently ongoing) main narrative. Jace is pretty much “Jon Snow if his Targaryen parent was actually the woman and he was raised as a prince”. He is so very similar to Jon in character, almost to the point of being an outright clone. And this important because one of his greatest accomplishments during the Dance was his alliance with Winterfell’s lord, Cregan Stark. This birthed the Pact of Ice and Fire, a union between the two most powerful and important families in the meta-narrative. This union went unfulfilled in Jace’s and Cregan’s lifetimes…..but Rhaegar and Lyanna flipped it over its head. Originally meant to be a union between a Stark lord and Targaryen princess whose children would have direct claim to Winterfell, the actual fulfillment of this Pact was that a Targaryen prince sired a son by a Stark lady. The result of this union, Jon, now has claim to both families’ legacies: Winterfell and the Iron Throne. Through the Pact of Ice and Fire, Jon Snow becomes one of the most important and most direct cases of narrative continuity between the current era and Targaryen history. The Dance of the Dragons unknowingly gives birth to Jon Snow.

What HOTD does is to entirely erase one of the most direct consequences of the Dance from its narrative. The show makes no meaningful reference to Jon, or the Pact, even though the author of the source material was careful in laying out just how important Jon is to the central narrative. What’s frustrating is how then they spend a lot of time talking about the prince that was promised whose song is the song of ice and fire. But then they erase Jon, the result of the pact of ice and fire, from the narrative. The worst thing about this is that HOTD has taken such a large space in fandom discussion, such that people use events from the show to inform how they engage with the written text. For all intents and purposes these have been two different narratives, but now I have to read the worst blood-supremacist takes about Jon; which is incredibly ironic given the subject matter.

I often see people celebrate that HOTD doesn’t talk about Jon, which has been a pretty big clue on either one of two things:

Many people who engage in fandom discussion post HOTD don’t actually engage with the text in its entirety. They’ve either never read the books and have only consumed them based on their online fandom bubbles, or what they have read is severely limited in scope.

Some of those who have read these books don’t like ASOIAF for what it is. They like it for what it should be for their headcannons and character-limited perceptions. Thats why they like it when certain sections of the text are outright ignored, because it’s better for their headcannons that way.

Beyond wanting new material, one of the worst consequences of these books going unfinished for me is that large sections of this fandom will be primed to ignoring one of the central characters, because all the material that’s been released outside of the published material has greatly mischaracterized the text itself. We’re now relegated to unhelpful (sometimes idiotic) arguments such as “HOTD says so, so it must be true in the books”. HOTD is taking creative liberties, and we should respect that. And we should also acknowledge that some part of HOTD is continued from Game of Thrones, which didn’t do a very good job of adapting ASOIAF or its characters in the first place. Cutting out the Pact of Ice and Fire (as far as we know) is one of the worst narrative changes made by the HOTD show runners in terms of establishing common context with the story many viewers are already aware of. And it sucks that with that show’s massive popularity, future ASOIAF adaptations will follow suit in completely disregarding important elements of the overall narrative. But hey, at least dragons look good.

[melrosing]

sorry if this comes off as a shallow question but i wanted to know if you think arya is intended to be pretty. bc from my interpretation of the reading she’s absolutely not but she’s still one of my favourite characters in the series and i always get into arguments with other arya fans bc of this. i always read her story as sort of similar to brienne’s, who’s my absolute favourite character, and brienne fans will never (from my experience) accuse someone of hating her because they think she’s ugly. is this a phenomenon you also see? what’s your opinion?

not the prettycourse 😭 ok so I understand that some people might find more meaning in Arya’s story if she weren’t beautiful, bc I agree that ugliness is a powerful part, crucial even, of Brienne’s story. Brienne isn’t an ‘ugly duckling’, she never gets the catharsis of becoming a swan: she is truly society’s definition of ugly, and she is an incredible person too, worthy of respect and admiration. it’s rare that you get a story about an ugly woman that manages to be so much else besides, and doesn’t ultimately subvert that ugliness by reassuring readers that she was secretly attractive all along.

so I do understand the ambivalence towards Arya’s story as one that does just that; presents an ugly duckling narrative without subversion. there’s no powerful message in that. Arya doesn’t have to overcome anything to be attractive, she just is.

which is to say, Arya is canonically pretty. this is said several times over by multiple people, including Ned, Jon, Lady Smallwood, the Kindly Man, etc etc. it’s made very clear that Arya is the spit of Lyanna, who was considered a beauty. maybe not in such a conventional sense as Cersei, but still more or less conventionally so. it’s implicit that Arya’s beauty is merely hidden behind the messy hair and the dirty face etc etc like it’s whatever, she’s canonically pretty.

I think it’d be more interesting if Arya were just a normal looking kid lol, she doesn’t need Brienne’s story but we certainly have way more female POVs described as beauties than we do otherwise. Catelyn, Daenerys, Sansa, Arya, Asha, Cersei, Arianne, Melisandre - they’re literally all described as beauties in some sense. Brienne is the sole exception. Compare to the men, amongst whom only Jaime is described as a stunner lol, then Theon is considered fairly hot, and Jon…. might be?? and then that’s kind of it.

so I do think that it would be more interesting if a character who was once teased for her appearance didn’t have the author quickly assure us that actually she’s a beauty, because that’s not often how it works in life. some people can clean themselves up a bit and suddenly get compliments, but for the people who have really suffered appearance-based bullying, they don’t suddenly turn out to have been beautiful all along. they look how they look, and it’s up to society to celebrate them as they are, not for them to meet societal standards. this is what I think Brienne’s story does so effectively, but at the superlative end of the spectrum. unfortunately, there is no middle ground between Brienne and a host of beautiful female POVs and that’s on GRRM.

as for the Arya stans, to some extent I understand them getting annoyed at a broad insistence that Arya looks otherwise to how she is canonically described. there will be certain fans with an agenda in saying this. but given that you can’t really go a day without seeing some variation of this discourse in fandom, I’m going to say that this argument over the hotness of a ten year old girl has officially had way too much air time and can we please all just accept that yes she is canonically pretty and who the fuck cares

[la-pheacienne]

“Robert will never keep to one bed,” Lyanna had told him at Winterfell, on the night long ago when their father had promised her hand to the young Lord of Storm’s End. “I hear he has gotten a child on some girl in the Vale.” Ned had held the babe in his arms; he could scarcely deny her, nor would he lie to his sister, but he had assured her that what Robert did before their betrothal was of no matter, that he was a good man and true who would love her with all his heart. Lyanna had only smiled. “Love is sweet, dearest Ned, but it cannot change a man’s nature.”

For the first time in years, he found himself remembering Rhaegar Targaryen. He wondered if Rhaegar had frequented brothels; somehow he thought not.

Robert would swear undying love and forget them before evenfall, but Ned Stark kept his vows.

"Lyanna is a hypocrite for calling out chronic cheaters like robert and then running away with Rhaegar" this is truly funny, the fact that you associate a man who chronically visits brothels, fucks child prostitutes and leaves bastards all around, with a man who left his one (1) arranged marriage for another girl he fell in love with. Especially when Ned already makes this exact comparison in the very first book, first between Robert and Rhaegar and then between Robert and himself, just to showcase how fucked up in the head his BFF Robert was compared to both Rhaegar and himself.

And now I'm not saying Ned should be uncritically treated by the reader as this paragon of virtue and feminism. I'm saying, however, that Ned's standards of "decent behavior towards women" are pretty close to the writer's standards of decent behavior towards women, in universe, considering he has one of the healthiest marriages and probably the healthiest relationship with his daughters in the asoiaf universe and his one basic fatal flaw regarding his sister is precisely arranging her marriage with his BFF Robert, a decision that haunts him to this day considering he spends one whole book reflecting on and regretting his friendship with Robert and his decision to marry his sister to Robert. And this regret is now reinforced by every single one of Robert's actions during or prior to AGOT that Ned finds repulsive, aka his murderous obsession with Dany, his violent treatment of Cersei, his mistreatment of all these women/children and their kids, his approval of the murder and rape of Elia and her kids.

Ned now finally realizes what Lyanna already instinctively knew about Robert's nature from the get go (even if she didn't have all the data at the time). He should have known what she already instinctively knew, despite being so young, but he was too far gone into his delululand of sacred bromance with Robert to care. Now he knows precisely why his sister chose Rhaegar and now he reflects on all this and his regret and guilt run so deep but it's too late because Lyanna and Rhaegar are dead and there is nothing he can do about it. And the harrowing recounting of Lyanna's death in Ned's pov is something for sure, but let's not forget the understated yet still discernable regret and sadness in his visual memory of Rhaegar's death which is in sharp contrast with his complete apathy and emotional detachment towards his living breathing friend who is standing right in front of him:

“I vowed to kill Rhaegar for what he did to her.” “You did,” Ned reminded him. “Only once,” Robert said bitterly. They had come together at the ford of the Trident while the battle crashed around them, Robert with his warhammer and his great antlered helm, the Targaryen prince armored all in black. On his breastplate was the three-headed dragon of his House, wrought all in rubies that flashed like fire in the sunlight. The waters of the Trident ran red around the hooves of their destriers as they circled and clashed, again and again, until at last a crushing blow from Robert’s hammer stove in the dragon and the chest beneath it. When Ned had finally come on the scene, Rhaegar lay dead in the stream, while men of both armies scrabbled in the swirling waters for rubies knocked free from his armor. “In my dreams, I kill him every night,” Robert admitted. “A thousand deaths will still be less than he deserves.“ There was nothing Ned could say to that.

Ned's trajectory from being a victim of the evil targaryen dynasty and Robert's faithful friend to questioning the entire basis of his old allegiance and realizing that actually Rhaegar maybe should have been King and that his sister was right about Robert because he's indeed full of shit, his subsequent guilt, regret and disillusionment over the regime he enabled, and his inability to save his house from collapse are all core elements of his arc and why his character is so fascinating and tragic. Ned's gradual deconstruction of Robert and his friendship with him is the thought process that led to all of the above. Ned remembering Lyanna's quote about Robert is there precisely to reinforce his disillusionment with Robert and highlight his difference with Rhaegar, a recurring theme in his arc. And it is particularly funny that so many people that call themselves Stark Stans TM (!!!) just swipe away all of the subtext and actual text surrounding this quote just to prove a point that is directly antithetical to the quote, its meaning and its function in the narrative, while also framing lyanna as a hypocrite over it lmao.

[flowerandblood]

The Impossible Choice (8)

[ Aemond • Targaryen x Baratheon! • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, angst, smut, domination ]

[description: Aemond comes to Storm's End to choose his future consort. However, Lord Borros Baratheon presents him with only four of his five daughters. Being attached to his youngest child, he does not want to marry her. The prince, however, thwarts his and her plans with his decision. This is slow burn, with a lot of dark angst and sexual tension. (Anon Request)]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

______

When Lyanna walked into chamber informing her that her husband wanted to see her, she felt joy and horror at the same time. She was pleased that he desired her so much that he wished to spend another night with her.

However, she didn't know how to explain to him how sore she was, she was sure that no matter how gentle he might be, he would cause her pain and discomfort. She reasoned, however, that he might show her understanding in these delicate, feminine matters.

She entered his rooms shaken and frightened, fearful of his reaction and froze in disbelief; what she saw in front of her eyes made her voice hitch up in her throat, although she wanted to scream with all her might.

Her sister, Floris, was lying on the stone floor, sobbing loudly, all red, and her husband pressed her to the ground with his foot on her chest.

She couldn't believe that this was really happening.

She couldn't get any sound out, shocked and shuddered when she heard her husband's mocking voice.

"Your sister came to suck my cock. What should I do with her? I don't think this is what she expected when she knelt before me."

She felt as if someone had poured a bucket of ice-cold water over her head, even she didn't fully understand the meaning of his words, but she knew more or less what they meant.

Her own sister had come to her husband's chamber to seduce him.

She felt burning tears under her eyelids, which involuntarily began to run down her face and pressed her lips together, holding back any sound that might come from her mouth.

She heard Floris sobbing even louder at his words, almost screaming, but she could no longer find any compassion for her. Her husband was clearly frustrated by the sounds coming out of her chest, because he pressed her harder to the floor with his leg.

"Shut the fuck up." He hissed, looking down at her with a stony face.

For some reason, she felt satisfaction at the sight.

He could agree and take what she wanted to give him.

She knew that what her sister was going through was a brutal humiliation, that she should stop it, but some part of her was enjoying it.

As she began to beg her forgiveness, the awareness and pity she had felt came back to her, despite the immense pain and her burning, betrayed heart.

When she saw him take out his dagger she decided that this was all going too far.

"Let her go." She said weakly.

She looked at him and saw in his cold gaze that he would be ready to hurt her sister if she said a word.

She thought that he was dark, frightening man, but for some reason that thought did not repulse her.

Her violent husband chose her once again over her sisters.

He finally gave up on his idea, deciding to respect her decision.

"Get out." He said lowly, walking over to the table and taking a cup from it, drinking almost its entire contents.

She saw her sister turn on her stomach, trying to rise from her knees, trembling all over, sobbing loudly under her breath, her hair and nightdress in complete disarray.

She thought it was a hopeless, sad sight and that she even felt sorry for her, that it would be hard for her to go on, living with such humiliation.

Floris left the chamber quickly, terrified, and she wanted to follow her out, to speak to her, to ask her how she could have done something like this to her, but his voice stopped her.

"Where are you going?" He asked coolly, and she stopped, feeling a shiver pass through her at his tone of voice.

She looked at him and saw that he was extending his hand with his empty cup towards her. She pressed her lips together, wiping her nose, all runny from tears.

She took the jug in her trembling hands and prayed not to spill anything, not wanting to upset him.

She was afraid that drunk and angry, he would still want to take it out on her.

To take her, despite her pain and crying.

She refilled his cup halfway, not wanting to encourage him to drink more. However, this gesture only made him more upset.

"More. Do you begrudge your husband wine?" He hissed, and she pressed her lips together humbly, immediately reaching back for the jug.

"Forgive me, my prince." She mumbled, refilling his cup to the full, stepping back and waiting anxiously for his further orders. He stared at her intensely, his eye dark and misty, dangerous, she felt her heart in her throat with fear.

"You may leave." He said finally, turning his back to her, sitting back in his chair in front of the fire, taking a loud sip of wine.

She felt a huge sense of relief at his words and swallowed loudly, however, she hesitated.

She didn't want to be alone.

She didn't want to cry in solitude in her bed.

She wanted to stay with him.

She saw him glance over his shoulder at her, hearing that she hadn't moved an inch.

"May I sleep in your bed tonight, my husband?" She asked quietly, humbly, pleadingly, as tenderly as she could.

She felt a warmth in her belly when she called him her husband; she thought that it was so wonderfully pleasant to say those words, to be someone's wife, even if not entirely of her own free will.

She saw that he had turned his head away, taking another sip from his cup. He was silent for a long moment and she began to fear that she had frustrated him again with an unnecessary question.

"Yes." He hummed, and she let the air out of her mouth quietly.

"Thank you, husband." She whispered and moved slowly towards his bed, hiding under his sheets.

Only then did she allow herself to analyse what had happened.

She knew that her sisters had wanted this marriage, that they had competed in front of each other to be the chosen one, she understood their frustration, but she was their sister.

They preferred to humiliate and destroy her just to extract something for themselves, to give each other at least a moment of satisfaction.

She felt tears run down her cheeks onto the pillow under her head at the thought, but made no sound of her own.

She didn't expect him to come to her, embrace her or comfort her.

It was enough for her that he was in the same room.

That he didn't take her sister, although he could have.

She probably wouldn't have found out about anything, naively believing that everything was perfectly normal. She resisted the urge to let out a moan of despair and cuddled her face into her pillow, trying to fall asleep.

She awoke in the middle of the night, complete darkness all around her, only moonlight illuminated the chamber. She rose to sit up, looking around the room, sensing that her husband was not lying next to her. She saw that he was still sitting in his chair by the long-smoked fireplace, slumped slightly, his head resting on his shoulder.

She thought that he must have fallen asleep like this, drunk.

She wondered if she should wake him, tell him to lie down on the bed, decided against it, didn't want to frustrate him again.

She rose quietly, taking one of the quilts in her hand, and silently approached him barefoot. She covered him as gently as possible, doing her best not to make any loud movement. She looked at his sleeping face and sighed quietly, thinking that not even the scar and the lack of an eye could make her not see him as a handsome man.

She silently admired his long, shiny white hair, looking truly angelic, his unusual, sharp jaw, long, pointy nose and full, soft lips. She felt a pleasant tingling between her thighs at the memory of him kissing her.

She thought that he wasn't repelling her at all.

There was something about him that attracted her, despite his dark, scary nature.

She couldn't stop herself from touching him and gently brushed the back of her hand over his cheek, then rised her fingers to stroke his soft hair. She felt a wonderfully pleasant, comforting sensation as she did so, forgetting for a moment the unpleasant events of earlier that evening.

She moved away from him, not wanting to wake him, and walked slowly towards the bed with the intention of sleeping further. She shuddered when she heard his helpless, quiet mumbling.

"Don't leave me, mother."

She looked over her shoulder at him, wondering if she'd really heard it or if she'd just imagined it and saw that his chest was rising restlessly as if he was dreaming some kind of nightmare. She fought with herself, not knowing what to do, afraid that if he woke up, he would be furious with her. However, she couldn't help herself.

She approached him again, sitting down on his lap in his chair, her hand ran tenderly over his scarred cheek. She felt him flinch all over, frightened that he was awake, but he only caught her arm, pressing her hand to his chest. She thought with pain that something was happening inside him that she didn't understand, that he was in pain for some reason.

She wanted to give him some sort of relief.

She slid deeper, hugging his lowered head to her breasts, stroking slowly his hair with her trembling hand. She swallowed loudly, when he snuggled into her suddenly, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist.

She thought that he was like a helpless little child, so in need of his mother's care and tenderness.

She understood him, because she herself lacked that after her mother had left this world.

She laid her cheek on his head, closing her eyes, embracing him, stroking his hair with a slow, unhurried movements; she could feel him slowly calming down, falling back into a deep, sound sleep.

She thought that even if he thought it wasn't her, perhaps he was now experiencing some kind of relief and fulfilment that he needed.

She kissed tenderly the top of his head, touched that in this bizarre way she could suddenly be so wonderfully close to him.

She woke up after a long time, terrified, sucking in loud breath as she felt him rise with her, grabbing her hips. She wrapped her legs and arms around him, feeling her heart pounding hard, frightened that he would be furious with her.

"Forgive me." She mumbled, terrified that he would put her outside the door and simply shut it in front of her face, furious, recognising that she had taken advantage of a moment of his weakness.

He, however, to her surprise, did not head towards the door, but to his bed; she thought that perhaps he wanted to lie down to sleep in a more comfortable position.

She was wrong about that too.

He laid her down on his bedding, towering over her, breathing heavily, he could see that he was still drunk, his gaze hazy and cloudy.

She swallowed hard when he slowly begin to undo the buckles of his tunic, looking at her as if he wanted to devour her, she felt arousal at the sight, a pleasurable throbbing between her thighs.

He pulled his tunic off himself in one, sure movement, to her surprise, he also pulled his nightgown off, leaving his chest bare.

Only now could she see how well built he was.

She gasped silently at the sight, feeling warm desire pulsing in her lower abdomen, didn't resist him as he spread her legs and began to untie his breeches.

"Show me your breasts." He commanded, but not as coolly as usual, his voice shaky; whatever he was thinking about the position that he had found her in when he woke up it had apparently made him lose his temper.

She reached right up to untie her chemise, pulling the material aside, letting him look at what he wanted. She heard his low sigh of contentment as he climbed onto the bed, grasping her face in his hands, popping greedily into her puffy, swollen lips.

She murmured, surprised by this sudden passion, she could smell in his breath the overwhelming scent of wine, of smoke, of fire, of his saliva, of his arousal, his lips was thristy and restless, as if he feared that if he would not take the tenderness from her violently, she would not give it to him freely.

He was wrong.

She dared to slip her hands into his hair, to draw his face to hers, to deepen the kiss, her plump lips teasing his, trailing over his face, leaving wet marks on his skin, driving him insane. She heard him let out a soft, low, helpless groan, surprised at how willing she was, as if he expected her to resist rather than be delighted.

Her lips left his mouth once in a while, her hands stroking and rubbing the skin of his cheeks, his scar gently, tenderly, with devotion and acceptance, she could see him struggling with himself, his still unsober mind unsure if this was really happening.

It seemed to her that he decided to find out, to make sure, and began to touch her, the tip of his tongue tentatively slipping between her mouth, running its fleshy structure over her upper lip. She felt his rough, large hands everywhere, on her breasts, her shoulders, her hips, her thighs, running over her body like a map, his touch completely different from that during their wedding night, it seemed to her more natural, primal.

He dug his fingertips into the soft skin of her buttocks, panting with her without pulling away from her lips, swollen from his caresses, she felt like her whole body was on fire as he began to kiss and suck her neck, her hands roaming over his heated, sweaty back.

She sighed when she felt him slide his breeches down a little, just enough for her to feel his swollen, throbbing erection between her thighs.

She no longer cared about the pain or discomfort, she wanted to feel him again, wanted to be his once more.

She threw her head back with a low moan as he thrusted into her suddenly, confidently, all to the end. She had the feeling that this time it was completely different.

That whether he wanted it or not, the two of them were equals.

She sobbed beneath him as he began to move inside her in fast, violent, sharp pace, kneeling in front of her, holding her hips in his hands, rooting into her in this delightful position that gave her so much pleasure, panting loudly with her, his cock opening her wide with lewd clicks of her moisture.

"− yes − yes − yes −" She whined like a prayer, clasping her hands on the sheets around her, moaning along with him, his fingertips clenched painfully tight on her hips, his thighs bumping against the skin of her arse with a wet, loud, perverted slaps.

" − fucking made to take my cock −" He exhaled with delight and she moaned at his words, ashamed, arching like a string, surprised by his sudden effusiveness, his desire to touch her, by everything that he was now giving her.

She squealed loudly as he grabbed her by the waist and lifted her, so that she was sitting on top of him. Excited by this new, more comfortable position, she put her arms around his neck, pressing her forehead to his, looking down at him with misty eyes, letting him slam into her as quickly and deeply as he desired.

He was sliding in and out of her, holding her waist in an iron grip, pushing her fleshy, hot walls apart with the quick thrusts of his hips, making her head spin with pleasure, rubbing her where she needed it.

"− Aemond −" She mewled, and he groaned low, almost animal-like at the sound of his name from her lips, so shameless, private, intimate.

"− fuck − stop −" He breathed out as if her tenderness, her directness was too much for him.

She kissed him greedily, the tip of her tongue brazenly and tauntingly licked his, causing him to make that wonderfully low, broken sound again.

She clasped her hands on his cheeks, running the tip of her nose over his face, bouncing with each of his pounds, feeling as if she were in some wonderful frenzy of elation, she rose and fell, whining his name, and he panted helplessly beneath her, his thrusts sloppy and dirty.

"− no − please − fuck! −" He clenched his teeth, not really knowing what he was asking for, pressing his face into her breasts, coming hard deep inside her with a loud groan of pleasure and anger.

His helpless words made her come a moment after him with a surprised moan of relief, a wonderful, tickling sensation of delight spread through her body like a hot wave, while she was falling and rising on his still hard cock.

They were both panting, trembling all over, hugging each other after this strange, sudden, frantic closeness that neither of them had expected.

She wasn't sure what had actually happened to her and felt ashamed of her perverted, shameless behaviour.

She thought that her husband was arousing something in her that she didn't understand, and his unintentional closeness was causing something to be released in her, some wonderful desire that she hadn't known before.

It was only now, sitting on top of him, snuggled into him, feeling him still pulsing inside her, panting hard that she realised she was trying to mimic his movements, wanting to see if it would feel good.

And gods, it felt so good.

Once in a while she placed a kiss on the top of his head, brushing her fingers through his hair, running her hand down his bare back, she felt goosebumps on his skin every time as she repeated this sensual, gentle gesture, their breathing began to slowly calm down.

She shuddered when she felt his large hand on her back, his fingers tentatively traveling up and down her spine, apparently wanting to reciprocate her gentle caresses that were so foreign to him. She pressed his face to her breasts, sighing with delight as she felt shivers of pleasure pass through her with each of his strokes.

"− my husband −" She whispered tenderly.

He murmured, closing his eye and simply let himself drift off into the world of these pleasant, gentle, subtle sensations.

She felt that after a moment they both began to fall asleep, cuddled into each other in this semi-sitting position. He leaned over suddenly, laying on his side with her, his face still snuggled into her chest.

He slid out of her gently with a loud click of her moisture and his spend, grunting with displeasure and made himself comfortable between her breasts, no longer making a sound, letting her embrace him as she pleased. She laid her cheek against the top of his head, closing her eyes.

She thought that this night was the first time that she had seen her husband as he really was.

She woke up just before dawn, unsure of where she was, feeling someone's arm embracing her waist, his large hand on her half-naked breast, slipped under the untied material of her nightgown. She turned her head in that direction, frightened, and saw the face of her husband lying next to her, sleeping a stony sleep.

He smelled of wine.

She pressed her lips together at the memory of what they had done.

She was afraid of his sober mind's reaction to what had happened, that he would accuse her of taking advantage of his condition and weakness.

That he didn't want it at all.

He was asking her to stop, but she didn't understand why, as his hips, instead of slowing down, accelerated, his fingers, instead of letting her go, dug more firmly into soft skin of her hips, rooting his manhood deep into her with such intense thrusts that she had to clench her hands in his hair for balance.

She thought with pain that although she wanted to sleep on by his side, believing that he knew what he was doing, she should leave.

She reasoned, swallowing quietly, that after the way he had forced her to leave the day before in the morning, today would surely be no different and she wasn't about to find out, waiting like a puppy for his approval.

She figured that she would leave on her own.

And he, if he wanted to, would summon her again.

She actually preferred that if he was angry he wouldn't take it out on her right away and could cool off in solitude; if he was happy, nothing would happen if he visited her alone, of his own free will.

She slipped quietly out of his embrace, his low, displeased, sleepy grunt answered her, make her freeze in half-motion. He merely turned over, however, continuing to sleep, and she sighed softly, rising from the bed, walking barefoot towards the door.

She hissed quietly, immediately feeling that embarrassing sensation again as something flowed out of her, a mixture of her moisture and his seed running down her thigh. She glanced over her shoulder at him and smiled slightly at the sight of his peaceful, sleeping face.

He looked so gentle.

She opened the door with a quiet clatter of wood and stepped out, closing it behind her.

_____

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[siravalondulac]

sapphire steel | chapter one - a visitor

j. snow x fem!oc

summary: one night, a strange woman shows up in jon's chambers

tags: smut (f/m, rough sex, oral (m receiving), p in v), dubious consent, canon divergence - rhaegar won the trident

word count: 2499

author's note: in this au, rhaegar won the battle of the trident and became king. lyanna still died, and rhaegar mostly abandoned jon because he wanted a visenya, but still made him live in king's landing. cersei died birthing a daughter no one knows the father of. aegon, rhaenys, and elia are alive and in the red keep.

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The cold night air stung against his skin and the alcohol burned his throat. Every new gust of wind moved his robe this way and that, exposing his bare chest to the snowflakes falling onto his balcony.

Jon wished it would kill him. But his father always said he was the blood of the dragon - he would not die from the cold.

He wished it would kill him, too. His father, King Rhaegar Targaryen, banisher of the attempted usurper, who had caused a rebellion only to crush it later on. It had been him who had cursed Jon to this wretched life, the black dragon of his otherwise perfect court.

If only he were allowed to leave.

He took another swig of his bottle.

Such had become his routine. During the day he would get reminded of his doomed bastard blood that had almost brought the realm to ruin, and during the night he would attempt to drown the stares of the courtiers in alcohol and whores.

A knock sounded on the door.

He groaned and threw his head against the stone he was leaning against, yet stayed conscious.

Another knock.

Perhaps the time had come for him to jump off his balcony and take a burden off his father's shoulder.

A third knock, then the door opened and someone stepped inside.

“Go away!”

He was not in the mood for a lecture from his father, or pity tears from his brother, or sorrowful looks from his sister.

Whoever had entered his room made no sound, did not try to talk to him. Perhaps a new tactic by his father? He looked around the stone pillar, ready to curse him out, yet no word left his mouth as he beheld the figure.

A woman. With blonde hair. Dressed in red.

He wanted to laugh. Another attempt by his father to keep him off the Street of Silk and not tarnish the reputation of his House further. This must be the, what? Tenth, eleventh noble woman to be sent his way to hopefully become his lover.

He had made a game out of it a while ago. How much could these women endure before breaking? His father never learned, he kept sending them.

What did it matter? He could use a good fuck, and at least now he did not have to walk through the freezing city to find a brothel.

Slowly, he rose to his feet and entered his room.

The woman stood unmoving beside the only lit candle, allowing him to get a proper look at her.

Her curly hair was more golden than mere blonde, spilling freely over her shoulders and down to her waist. The lines of her face were sharp, her cheekbones high and her jawline well-defined. She had pale, unmarred skin, with nary a blemish or inconsistency in sight. The deep red dress was a simple thing, yet off-the-shoulder and with a low neckline, clinging to her body.

He emptied the bottle, then smashed it to the ground.

If he had startled her, she did not show.

Carefully, like a wolf stalking its prey, he stepped towards her. She did not look at him, instead staring ahead into the endless distance. He raised a hand to let it hover over her arm, then traced the fabric. Still no reaction.

He started circling her. “Did my father send you?”

“Yes, my prince.”

Her voice was deeper than he thought, not quite fitting to a face like hers.

His hand glid through the soft curls falling down her back. “And do you know why?”

“Yes, my prince.”

“Say it.”

“I am to serve you in whatever way you choose.”

How cute. Dancing around the subject, not being able to say the filthy words his father had instructed her with. Likely one of those pious maidens who prayed to the gods every waking moment.

“What is your name?”

“Cerelle Hill, my prince.”

A bastard for a bastard, how fitting. Certainly, he carried the Targaryen name, yet not even the king's word could wash out this kind of shame.

He squinted as a wave of pain hit his head. The alcohol clearly did not work as intended anymore.

“And whose are you, Cerelle?” He drawled her name. “Perhaps the great Tywin Lannister’s?”

She did not even flinch when his hand grabbed her ass.

“His granddaughter.”

Faintly, he remembered tales of Cersei Lannister, and how she had died birthing a child no one had been able to catch sight of. Yet the haze on his mind made recalling such information difficult.

He stepped in front of her again, her gaze still directed on something far beyond him.

“Look at me.”

Her eyes snapped towards him. Their blue was bright yet cold as ice, almost seeming to glow in the dim light of his chamber. No fear laid in them. No emotion at all, if he thought about it.

“Usually my women show more enthusiasm.”

“If my prince requires me to act differently he need only say so.”

Did she mean to challenge him? Perhaps as the granddaughter of the ruthless Tywin Lannister she had caught a lesson or two. Bastard or not.

He continued his slow path around her unmoving figure, and her eyes followed him until he stood behind her.

Carelessly pushing her hair to the side he pulled at the laces of her dress, and after four, five tugs let the fabric fall freely to the ground.

She wore neither shift nor underclothes. Distantly, he wondered if that had been an instruction or her own intuition. She was thin, little flesh clinging to her bones, yet the curves of her ass and hips were enough to provide a proper hold should he grab them later on.

He let his fingers glide across her bare skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake as he stepped to her front again.

Her breasts were small yet firm, the nipples rosy and perky due to the cold wafting through the open balcony door. He let his thumb glide over one of them and then pulled, yet found no reaction in her face again.

“Are you a maiden?”

“Yes, my prince.”

Perhaps he should think of something special for her, a grander way to deflower her than what he had planned, yet found no solution through the fog settling on his mind.

The normal procedure, then.

“On your knees.”

She followed his command without question while he started unlacing his pants. Whatever this conversation had been had not aroused him in the slightest - despite the beautiful body before him - so it took a few hard tugs of his fist to make his cock stand at attention.

Cerelle watched his movements. Nothing more, just watched.

He held the head to her lips.

“Suck.”

She opened her mouth slowly, tongue peeking out, and took only the very tip inside her. Then she let it pop out.

Jon should have been annoyed at her languid pace, yet could not help his curiosity as he watched the careful movements, how she explored his dick as if it were a sharp weapon, ready to cut her at a moment's notice. She let her tongue trace his underside, applying ever so much pressure on its veins, garnering low hisses and whines from him. Then she closed her lips around his length again and he audibly groaned at the warmth. She moved back and forth slowly, every time bringing more of his cock into her mouth, the spit glistening in the light of the candle.

He was fully hard now, all the blood of his body moving towards his dick and making his legs quiver. His length throbbed, red and swollen, and he knew this had to end.

He had a reputation to defend, after all.

Her hair was soft under his fingers as he grabbed it, pulling shortly to try to make her gasp, and then slammed himself into her mouth. She gagged, her first real reaction that night.

Fucking finally.

He set a brutal pace, tightening his hold on her hair to keep her steady as he snapped his hips forward again and again, burying his dick further every time it entered her wet, hot mouth.

She had submitted to him almost instantly, opening herself up as far as possible, and then taking whatever he gave her. Tears flowed out of her eyes, mixing with the spit spilling from her mouth, but her body had no other reaction to him.

He was not remotely as quiet, moaning, cursing, grunting with every thrust, gasping whenever even the smallest part of his cock entered her tight throat. It had been too long since he had gotten his dick wet (three days) and his inexperience showed.

Too soon did he near his release, the ache in his cock almost unbearable, and he wanted nothing more than to slam himself deep, deep into Cerelle's throat and force her to swallow all of him, or even to paint her beautiful face with his spent.

Yet she was a maiden, and as such he needed to save himself for her cunt.

He quickly ripped her head back, her little gasp like music to his ears as he gripped the base of his dick tightly to prevent his release. The cold still seeping in through the open balcony door burned his cock, yet if he was uncomfortable she had to be as well.

Panting audibly, his bare chest raising and falling rapidly, he tilted Cerelle's head back.

Her open lips were red and swollen, her cheeks pink and wet with her spit and tears, yet her eyes still stared up at him. That terrifying blue, dangerous as a glacier, signaling his doom if he wasn't careful.

“On the bed.”

How she still displayed such poise after kneeling on the floor and having her poor little throat abused he did not understand, yet her walk to his bed looked close to normal. He almost fell over simply standing and watching her.

Let's see how you'll behave when I'm done with you.

He quickly discarded his robe and pants, and stumbled after her.

“On all fours.”

Her form was impeccable - straight back, head lowered, hands and knees planted firmly on the mattress. He kneeled behind her and let his hands trace the shape of her buttocks, before bringing his hand down hard on her pale skin. He slapped her again and again, until the marks had turned from pink to bright red.

The impact - echoing loudly in the otherwise quiet room - moved her body forward, yet had no more effect on her.

He lowered his hand and started rubbing quick circles on her pearl, attempting to make her at least a little wet before entering her to make it more comfortable for him.

Grabbing her hips so tightly he knew it would leave marks, he lined up his cock with her hole, and slammed his entire length inside in one thrust.

Perhaps she had cried out. He didn't know, for the feel of a warm cunt finally around his length again, especially after having to endure the freezing cold in his room, punched such a loud moan from his throat he was sure the entire castle heard.

He stayed like that, up to the hilt within her walls, dick throbbing painfully, until he was certain he had soaked up the moment completely. Then he slowly pulled out until only the tip remained inside her.

A few drops of blood were smeared on his dick, confirming her assertion that she was a maiden. Had been. He had broken her in officially now.

His grip tightened even more, fingers burying into her skin, wishing to leave permanent marks.

Without hesitating a moment more, he started violently and brutally thrusting into her, never slowing down, never stopping, never giving either of them a second's reprieve.

At some point, a gust of wind extinguished the candle, cloaking the room in darkness. He didn't care. The squelch of his cock hammering into her cunt and the feel of her tight, wet walls squeezing down on him was all he could ever need.

She held him so exquisitely, pulsating around his throbbing dick, grabbing his length so tightly he had half a mind to stop and stay still inside of her the entire night.

Cerelle never collapsed to the bed as her predecessors had always done at this point in the night. She remained hard and steadfast as ice. No sounds spilled from her mouth either, none of the whines, moans, grunts, and curses spat from his own lips.

Too soon did he near his release again. He didn't know whether to fault the alcohol, the previous stunt with Cerelle's throat, his prolonged abstinence from sex, or the cold. Or perhaps the feel of a maiden cunt around his cock.

He sped up his thrusts one final time, his hips slapping against her ass, his dick reaching deeper inside her than before.

Close, he was so close.

Jon leaned forward, planting his hands on the mattress beside hers, and bit down hard on her neck as he came.

His spent coated her inner walls as the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth, his teeth buried deep in her skin and ensuring he left a visible mark on her. No one would see his cum dripping down her legs, nor that she was no longer a maiden, but this she could not hide.

He stayed like that, bodies pressed tightly together, skin against skin, her walls tight around his cock. A small part of him wanted to continue right away, fuck her through the night and into the day until she wouldn't be able to walk for a week.

Slowly, savouring every inch of her beautiful cunt, he started pulling out. The cold grabbed ahold of him almost immediately, and he only barely avoided burying himself inside her heat again. He could tie her to him and ensure his cock would never be cold or dry again.

His dick freed himself from her hole with a plop, and he fell down on the bed beside her.

Now he wished the candle was still burning, longing to see her face - had she cried, did she look at him with hatred or awe, how red were her cheeks? Or did she wear her neutral expression again, one that not even such violent sex could punch off her?

The mattress moved, then he heard her slowly walk across the stone floor. Some shuffling.

He pulled a blanket over his body, curling up on his side.

“Tomorrow. Same time.”

He would have snow in his room when he awoke, yet he didn't care.

“Yes, my prince.”

Light fell through the small gap created by the open door, yet she was gone before he caught a proper look at her.

He pulled up another blanket from the end of the bed, and fell unconscious almost immediately after, the alcohol lulling him into a restless sleep.

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author's note: i don't know when i'll be able to update this fic as i'm currently a bit busy with uni.

in the meantime you could read the fic this au is based on -> meet me in the dark, kiss me in the moonlight

[pixiecactus]

I never thought that the Stark bloodline could continue through Arya, and that this is one of the reasons why she has the classic look of them. I feel so fucking silly cuz she looks like Lyanna who is associated with the winter rose/stark maiden (Jon is also represented by the winter/blue rose, since he is Lyanna's son so could also be the one who continues the lineage) and they all bloomed in the winter, just like Arya will do too in future About the next generation, well, it's not really a big deal, just some funny speculation. And yeah, the Baratheon genes really are dominant. I checked multiple cases and the male line is usually stronger. Rhaenys is one of the rare cases, actually the only case, but she comes from a Valyrian bloodline as well. Her grandmother was a Velaryon. And her father, a Targaryen. In other words, it takes generations to be ~diluted~. The seed is really strong with the baratheons lmao It seems there are some rules. When Targaryen men marry other women, their first child often looks like their mother. Lyanna had lived long enough to give birth to a second child, the boy or girl would look like Rhaegar. And considering that all the dark haired targs never get to the throne like Baelor and others. I think it's a pattern for each house to have a specific appearance, and that seems to be extra important in some way in terms of succession and who will continue the line. Since these appearances magically prevail for decades or hundreds of years

it's been exactly a month since this ask was sent; sorry!!

i've to admit that when i was reading the books the first time around, i didn't notice it either; my first exposure to that idea was due to a stansa's post, i don't remember how it went at all, so take this with a big grain of salt, but what i got after reading the whole thing was something like: "so you're making the case that people saying something about the conservation of the stark's looks and how is important in arya and jon's plots equates to them being racist to ginger people (?)"

the part you wrote about how winter roses bloom in the winter and arya will do the same in the future was so nicely put; those were some bars!!

the thing with arya is that she's the sociable one of the starks, (unpopular opinion coming up: but i honestly think that family had one extrovert, who is arya, one ambivert, who is bran and the rest of them are mostly introverts; well rickon is still a mystery to me so i'm going to ignore his existence just like the books do) arya is the one that seeks connection with other people to make her own pack, and don't get me started about how she is the motherly one of the two stark daughters; she cares greatly about other people and she has a lot of fertility symbolism all around, dany is the one with the most motherly imagery but arya comes in a close second place.

i do think that grrm's original plan was to have arya and jon together restore the stark line, with the added plus that these future starks will also have the recognizable stark look to them. which, if you think about it, really sounds like catelyn stark's worst nightmare coming to realization, with the child she hated, her husband's bastard, becoming the heir and married to her least favourite child...

(okay, time to cover up my bases... catelyn loves arya, i do believe that, she loved all of her children, and i believe she's a great character, but as a mother, catelyn really did the poorest job in showing arya that she loved her unconditionally... and maybe i'm not as forgiving as other people with her because catelyn stark reminds me so much of my parental figures and i did have a lot of the same problems that arya had with her mother with them... also i've a bone to pick with catelyn because she seemed to be "weird" i really don't know how else to put it, about the fact that jon looked like ned but her children did not, and that makes me go... excuse me, arya is right there!!)

coming back into future gendrya speculation, i want to say that the shipper in me obviously wants to point out that we've never seen a stark and someone with baratheon genes union before, so even with the beforehand knowledge that "the seed is indeed strong" maybe the stark genes are stronger... but yeah, i admit that sounds as if i've gone overboard with the copium and really dumb as fuck, because it seems like a plothole waiting to happen.

also it's really interesting the part that you wrote about how dark-haired targaryens never get the throne and how that's going to play out in the future, but... i've to admit as well that with jon dying and then coming back to life, because let's be honest, that boy was never going to stay dead for long, i can't see jon being the one who continues the stark line; i can't see death bringing life again, no matter how poetic it sounds, but maybe that's just a skill issue on my part.

so if the stark look has to be preserved and continue down onto future generations, i think that arya is the obvious option, for me at least.

what is funny is that before i got the last ask about this, i was thinking really hard about what's going to be the thing that breaks up gendrya if they happen in the books, because i see them as a first love kind of deal that's not meant to last, and of course the most popular conclusion is that gendry probably will die, because he's a minor character against arya, who is one of the key five, but i don't want that, because i love my boy as well, and i want to see him live better times.

but yeah, thank you for your ask and for your patience as well!!

[ilynpilled]

i think an interesting factor that is not acknowledged by fandom is what exactly is indicated in the text that cersei and jaime’s plan was and how old they were when they came up with it. this doesnt confirm that they intend to continue a sexual affair during a royal marriage, only to not be separated/be near eachother always. though i understand that cersei convinces jaime also through a passionate sexual act (not confirmed what degree) and the high had effect on jaime’s decision making, and they have experimented with sexual acts of some sort already as children, and there is no doubt in my mind that they have a skewed understanding of how they love each other like “our love is natural law”, but there are a lot of other things we know: everybody in the equation assumes there will be a royal marriage hence cersei would remain in KL and they would be “near each other always”, and an affair would be treason punishable by death. they do know it will not be the same as it was before because cersei will get married, even if jaime doesn’t. cersei was already infatuated with rhaegar, and says she expected and wanted to be his queen, wife, and the mother of his children. this is much later and a lot of other things happen, but the last time we know the twins have sex (confirmed penetrative sex. cersei says “i fucked jaime” verbatim) is right before the wedding with robert, and after the married couple emerge from the sept, jaime is obviously distraught. why? wasn’t this the plan all along? ofc there is jealousy, but i argue that because they know this marks the end of the relationship. jaime is already at a point where he is pretty disillusioned with every other major value in his life: honor, glory, knighthood, and heroism. and he gave up everything else he had, a lot of free will/lands/titles etc, to be close to cersei, so all that remains to him is love (which is arguably the most important thing to him), which we know he also considers a vow, though more abstract and personal. cersei experiences disillusionment during the bedding when robert calls her lyanna. it is a similar epiphany to the crowd cheering for jaime after he is raised to the kg at harrenhal, him being content enough despite other aspects of this plan falling apart (he joined because of cersei, but “honor and glory played their part” & “that boy wanted to be ser arthur dayne.” aspirations for knighthood and heroism are clearly there) until actually finding out that aerys chose him as a pawn against tywin and not as a knight, his position is without much meaning, and he wants “to rip off his white cloak” but knows he can’t because, not only was he already selected, he had sworn the oaths now too. and of course, cersei’s experience also gets much worse from this point on, just like how jaime’s got worse as a kg, and how his understanding of so many things he idealized was torn apart, and he is confronted with how these things work and contradict in reality. but what i really want to highlight is that when they are at greenstone, about a year into the marriage, robert starts cheating on her with a female cousin:

cersei sends jaime to confirm her suspicions, and he returns with the question of “do you want him dead for it?” both of them are mad at robert for dishonoring her and breaking his marital vows, why would they be if they are already cheating too? i get that these are the lannister twins, but then cersei says “no. i want him horned.” horned means cucked, and the indication here is that robert had not been horned yet at this point. this is where the affair seems to start, there is no evidence for the contrary afaik. it is also obviously 100% penetrative sex, hence cersei can believe it is when joffrey was conceived. and it happened primarily in retaliation against robert. destructive codependent incest spawning as a result of complex family dynamics and parental neglect aside, at every turn it is highlighted that this affair is also a product of a lot of systemic issues and the twins’ disillusionment, but focusing more on cersei and her being stuck in an abusive and unwanted marriage: the husband is free to cheat on her with no risk or consequences, unlike her, and does so. the bitterness from this influences her to retaliate with an affair of her own. not to mention she is fighting back against her rapist the only way she can, and refuses to bear his children, which is again, the limited form of retaliation she has. she could accept jaime’s proposal to kill robert for her, but this could lead to jaime’s death (she outright says this in agot when she says that jaime would have killed robert even if it cost him his own life if he saw the bruises + the same proposal down the line could also threaten her life and the life of her children if this murder is investigated. + i do think part of her just wants revenge. she wants to retaliate in this way where she has the power). i just dont think people simplifying this situation and implying that “the twins intended and would 100% have ‘fucked up their own lives’ and ‘threatened the realm’ with an affair during a royal marriage no matter what.” stands. idk, maybe it is just my preference, but to me it makes sense that even with tywin’s rearing they couldve grown out of this dysfunctional relationship as they got older and gained maturity, but instead everything gets worse and pushes them into embracing the illusion of eachother more than ever.

[atopvisenyashill]

there’s a few potential sansa romantic endgames that i think have some textual basis and i think all of them come with a lot of issues wrt sansa being able to publically claim these relationships which is why i think sansa will say her children are “fathered by a wolf” because regardless of Who she’s with or even the legality of it, she’s going to be actively concealing their identity AND YET she needs to have children.

i think especially that even though arya’s love life is guaranteed to be less complicated, sansa will feel obligated to take this “burden” of ensuring their line onto herself; she wants arya to have the freedom to go where she pleases, be with who she pleases, and follow her passions and that is not easy to do if everyone is expecting you to come home and start popping out kids. I consider them a sort of reflection of ned and lyanna in this way in that sansa, second born and not meant to rule, uses her newfound power to let the wild, youngest girl (but not youngest child) in the family follow her passions wherever they may take her.

this is all kind of weird with the nixed time jump but considering that george has talked about writing stories from arya’s pov about her adventures, I think it’s going to be fairly important in story regardless of their ages that arya will attempt to offer to stay home and marry and have children as a way of helping to protect sansa’s very shaky claim on winterfell but that sansa encourages arya to do whatever she wants. to travel, to help shepherd the boatloads of refugees from the various wars to wherever they want to call home, to settle displaced northerners in other parts of westeros as well, to get involved in the lives of the people arya is helping and agree to help them liberate their own homes by using her skills (crucial here that arya is A leader but not the SOLE leader), or to go out into the woods and be a secret not-quite-an-outlaw (bc sansa isn’t outlawing anything that could hurt arya’s lil crusades, probably is helping bankroll arya) to bring justice to the smallfolk, like whatever it is arya wants to do with her life, the point is that she offers to give it up and sansa refuses to take the offer.

and then we have the idea that her kids are fathered by a wolf. not elizabeth-ing herself here exactly because she’s having children but never publicly acknowledging a father or a husband or even a lover.

i think the candidates most likely are jon snow and theon, with both brienne and podrick as like “i’m not saying he’s gonna do it but i am saying they make a lot of sense narratively” and aegon vi as a huge long shot but still undeniable contender. if briensa does go canon everyone owes me five bucks each tho. i think the options other people float are not just wildly unserious they also clearly don’t think sansa will be The Ruling Lady Of Winterfell, but some much more minor or less emotionally resonant title and i just do not vibe with that shit at all. harry the heir, sandor, sweetrobin, tyrion, littlefucker, like never mind sansa never once showing any real interest in these guys and NONE of these dudes being satisfied by the idea of being her secret husband, if sansa says to arya “yeah i’m marrying tyrion” arya is going “blink twice if you’re being held hostage and you need me to kill him” but it’s too late because jon snow is already unsheathing longclaw and bran is attacking with every raven in winterfell. it’s not fucking happening and imo it’s unserious to pretend like it could happen in canon. (and if it DOES happen in canon you will find me rocking up to george’s house in jersey and demanding to know why he’s so weird about teenage girls). i think margaery is a huge long shot here (and not just bc it would make them both canonically on screen gay) because i don’t think she’s gonna live to the ending, and jeyne poole is too traumatized at this point in time for me to feel confident in putting her in the same category as brienne and pod.

(theon’s trauma is WHY i think he’s still a contender - post reek theon is going to struggle a lot with figuring out where he’s supposed to be, who he’s supposed to be, and who he can trust as he puts himself back together, and that lends itself nicely to the idea of a secret husband/lover imo. once again, we are talking extreme trauma bonding here - that’s just the only way i see sansa’s romances going).

if you’re asking “who do you think arya is winding up with” it’s gendry. i don’t doubt that there were some plans for edric dayne, arya, and gendry but i think gendry was always going to be her great love here, that she’s always going to turn down the idea of marriage to him but gendry doesn’t care so long as they are still together. there’s a neon blinking sign over gendry’s head that says “endgame material” and i think it’s unserious to pretend it’s not there too!!

[horizon-verizon]

I've thought about this again because I saw some posts that spoke in favor of Elia, against Rhaegar/Lyanna and many mix the two canons. I personally think they were in love and I've always been curious how Martin would handle it when we had the "ultimate truth" and I have been indifferent to whether Elia knew/agreed/there was bigamy/a secret third option.

I like Rhaegar from the books quite a bit, but among the mountain of horrible things S8 did was make me really dislike the character and fans of Rhaegar and Jon. And I can't blame Elia or Anti Rhaegar fans when they use the show's canon (but I do wish they would acknowledge that that's unlikely what happened in the books).

Every time I remember that show!Rhaegar unilaterally and without notifying anyone ANNULLED the marriage with Elia, transformed his children into bastards and named his new son AEGON I want to strangle him and kill him. According to the show's backstory, Elia died and was held hostage for an engagement that was already void. Rhaenys and Aegon lost their rights, were abandoned and died because of a shitty father (When I have to assume it was relatively good in the books because Rhaenys goes to hide in his room, his daughter associates him with safety). I have no words for how absolutely disgusting it is to throw away a child and give that same name to the 2.0 model.

And all of this was done with the intention of legitimizing poor, innocent Jon Snow and giving him a "stronger"* claim to the throne over his aunt who was going "mad" and "power-hungry when the throne "always" was Jon's "rightful" birthright.

I pray that neither of the two things (Rhaegar annulled his marriage and and Jon's Targ name is Aegon) whatever it ends up on paper because literally any fan theory over the years has been better and it wouldn't feel like the character assassination that I felt that creative decision was.

I have a post explaining why I do not think Rhaegar was THE devil with how he handled stuff w/Lyanna and Elia HERE AND why Lyanna is and never was his "war prize" HERE. And in it, I also make it clear how/why Rhaegar actually did not canonically (bk) abandon his kids...but it was more that he couldn't be at 3 places at once.

*EDIT 1/12/2025* Overall, Rhaegar failed bc he was way too idealistic that he let ideas of heroism carry him away from observing issues with is own acrions or how e implemented a lot of them. So he was both irresponsible in one sense and was obsessed w/fufilling an ultimate level of "responsibility" through a prophecy I think he took as way to justify/redeem te corruption around him. Yes, he wanted to be "authentic", but went about it unfairly & disastrously under that inevitable weight. *END OF EDIT*

🤗. Thank you, anon, another take I agree with! I can't totally blame those Elia stans either for how they feel abt Rhaegar of either book or show when yes his affair with Lyanna--even if he had never loved Elia that way--is an social affront to Elia, and the show made it worse with Rhaegar somehow deciding to fuck over his own kids Henry VIII style in the way you describe (idw to repeat myself or you). And for some reason, I haven't really ever come to the realization that he'd be "giving" his leg son's name to his ileg son in the context of his having emotionally/politically affronted Elia. If it is just about the "sanctity" of marriage and a misunderstanding of what marriage is, I lean towards @faintingheroine's (deactivated) reblog:

I think people also simply emotionally understand cheating more than they understand actual physical violence. Cheating is something people can relate to their own lives. Whereas violence of this kind is something that most of us will hopefully never have to deal with. But it is a very flawed and myopic way to look at high-stake stories like this one of course.

I def understand some's arguments for why Elia WAS totally against Rhaegar for his liasion w/Lyanna both for her own sake and their kids. Aside from just not wantin that shame or to share a spouse. But the show's explanation for Rhaegar and Lyanna being for Jon having legitimacy is not for Elia but for Daenerys and the show's attempt to mitigate her role for said Jon Snow. Because the narrative is about the misinterpretations of the kind of heroism as in who we should love but who is using their power for a "greater good". Rhaegar was trying to balance the immediate political landscapes with future possible events that he likely thought had to be addressed as soon as possible, but it also didn't mean he didn't also make more personal self concerned choices but even this doesn't mean that he was always selfish when we see clearly canon evidence of the reverse.

I do "blame" those who think Rhaegar abandoned Elia and his kids to his abusive father for Lyanna or that he legitimized/tried to legitimize his child by Lyanna BY CANON. That shit's annoying. Neglect for te sake of te prophecy, yeah sure but leave beind to Aerys, no.

I suppose the reason why people like you and I have been "indifferent" to whether Elia knew abt the affair and how she'd take it and whether or not she "agreed" is that:

a) we simply don't know yet/GRRM has only ever said it was a "complex" relationship b/t her and Rhaegar...whatever that means

b) GRRM's handling of age gap relationships IN WORLD reflects both strange medieval-ish ideas of youth and sexuality AND how he's not really "in the know of" how such relationships work, thus they don't really materialize "realistically" in the book as they would other than with Dany and Drogo (Dany and Drogo is a slave-master situation...Lyanna chose Rhaegar under no compulsion from him)...so IN WORLD, it's far more likely that Rhaegar didn't actually seek prey in Lyanna for her youth/vulnerability (as Robert, Craster, some slave masters, Walder Frey, etc. do) nor "hated" Elia. But that he just really fell for Lyanna AND wanted to make sure the prince that was promised prophecy come to fruition at the same time. That he felt torn between these two--

(not that he used Lyanna for the prophecy, but that these two things AS WELL AS HIS KIDS, likely came at odds in terms of "what can I do to make these two things happen without compromising the other"...perhaps, after a life of performing "duty" towards his family, dynasty, the "world", Lyanna is the "love" that NARRATIVELY becomes his "weakness" in a long career of putting "duty" first [when he also has been emotionally distant and set against by his own father's paranoia and abuse for years by this point] bc he finally gets to perform something not intertwined with a sense of this great pressure of "duty". Even though I def headcanon he was attracted to Lyanna for how she views/acts out justice and all that --THIS DOESN'T MAKE HIS ACTIONS NOT "STUPID" OR HIS RELATIONSHIP WITH LYANNA ANY LESS EXRAMARITAL. I'M PROVIDING CONTEXT PEOPLE MAY NOT BE INVESTIGATING IN THEIR ASSESSMENTS AND ANSWERING THE QUESTION THEY MAY HAVE FOR WHY HE WOULD SUCH A THING, FILLING IN BLANKS HERE, PEOPLE AND SAYING THAT THE TRAGEDY HERE IS THAT THE LOVE COULDN'T BE BECASUE OF POLITICAL ARRANGEMENTS)--

bc I think he left Dragonstone with some of his crew to explore some secrets for said prophecy AND to possibly meet up with Lyanna, maybe partly to keep her safe from his own father and/or Robert, and while there are many fans who have cited he was "obsessed" with prophecies and not enough on his own family, I think they forget that the entire series is devoted to what and how one transforms their own privilege or suffering into "duty" towards those needing protection on a wider scale, and the prophecy is critical towards that--to "save the world" has been Rhaegar's most enduring goal. Perhaps there are those affronted by the idea that he was more "torn" abt the prophecy vs Lyanna versus the prophecy/world-saving versus Elia, or as they interpreted was happening

c) even if Rhaegar had stayed with his part of the family, he'd been called to arms for his father and if he didn't that's treason/endangers his part of the family...this is in answer to those arguing how Rhaegar's infidelity puts Elia's and their kids' lives in danger

The prophecy is about saving the world, yes? It's also very possible Rhaegar was "melancholy" all his life bc:

from his birth--connected to Summerhall & the continued Targ search to reconnect with their dragonflame origins and possibly use it to bring about some changes (necessary or not) in the world where they straddle the line between Other and exceptional--he's lived with a continued sense of isolation

he wanted to be a person responsible for "renewing" the world from Targaryen & other Westerosi destructive actions from the past centuries nearly similar to how Dany is now using Dragons to reverse the effects of Valyrian slavery in Essos's current slave system...which is destroying the entire slave system. For Rhaegar, that was bringing about the Prince that was Promised; the specifics, we simply do not know and that's the part of the mystery to be "solved" in WoW.

[rise-my-angel]

Gonna be honest guys it's weird to say Lyanna ran away willingly because she was rebellious who didn't want to marry Robert.

Because either you're saying Lyanna learned Aerys Targaryean horrifically murdered her father and brother, whom were there to save her, and wanted her other brothers head as well. And did not immediately send word or return home, all because she was "wild and a rebel". Which is to say you actually think Lyanna Stark is a fucking psychopath.

Or, you think Lyanna heard what happened and wasn't allowed to leave. Which means Rhaegar was holding her against her will, because he knew she'd immediately return home. Or you think Rhaegar just kept that information from her, which ruins your characterization that he is a good guy because it means he kept the fact that his father murdered her father and brother a total secret in order to keep her there.

Which ruins your image of Rhaegar being this better for her then Robert love interest because you people NEED Lyanna story to be about Robert vs Rhaegar. Because you do not actually respect Lyannas agency as being her own person separate from a romance.

Like just maybe, there's a lot less obvious holes you need to speculate about when you consider the idea that "Rhaegar kidnapped her" might be a valid option too.

[rendomski]

Spit is never an option. Almost.

Trying hard to write some sweet romantic post S3Ep5 Crosshunt. Unfortunately, I strongly support the opinion that Crosshair was responsible for keeping inventory on the Marauder. And in his absence, Echo. And definitely, with only Hunter and Wrecker on board, the ship became a messy flying disaster.

So, Crosshair/Hunter chat drabble. Nothing graphic, only suggestive. Still, minors, back off.

Hunter, gravely: No lube.

Crosshair: You didn't have anyone in my absence. How touching.

Hunter smiles, hopefully.

Crosshair: No.

Hunter makes his best puppy eyes.

Crosshair: No, spit is not an option, Hunter. And it's… been a while for me, too.

Hunter: Can I say ‘how touching’?

Crosshair: Don't you dare.

Hunter produces a medkit.

Crosshair: Seriously? Half of a small tube of bacta gel, and you want, what, fuck it up?

Hunter: Very much.

Crosshair rolls his eyes.

Crosshair, carefully: That other girl, Lyanna, gave Omega some hand cream.

Hunter: No.

Crosshair, agreeing reluctantly: Right, we're not using Omega's things for… this.

Hunter: We have some salad oil from Shep.

Crosshair: The one that is spicy?

Hunter dips a finger in a bottle, tastes, grimaces: Well, maybe not that…

Crosshair: Hunter.

Hunter, licking his fingers absentmindedly: Yeah, it's spicy.

Crosshair, not able to tear his eyes from Hunter: Spit?

Hunter: Spit.