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thelustybraavosimaid · 2 years ago

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"I know where we could go," Arya said. She still had one brother left. Jon will want me, even if no one else does. (Arya XII, ASoS)

She went back to the window, Needle in hand, and looked down into the courtyard below. If only she could climb like Bran, she thought; she would go out the window and down the tower, run away from this horrible place, away from Sansa and Septa Mordane and Prince Joffrey, from all of them. Steal some food from the kitchens, take Needle and her good boots and a warm cloak. She could find Nymeria in the wild woods below the Trident, and together they'd return to Winterfell, or run to Jon on the Wall. She found herself wishing that Jon was here with her now. Then maybe she wouldn't feel so alone. (Arya II, AGoT)

"She thinks that if she finds the right god, maybe he will send the winds and blow her old love back to her," said one-eyed Yna, who had known her longest, "but I pray it never happens. Her love is dead, I could taste that in her blood. If he ever should come back to her, it will be a corpse." (Cat of the Canals, AFfC)

Ygritte watched and said nothing. She was older than he'd thought at first, Jon realized; maybe as old as twenty, but short for her age, bandy-legged, with a round face, small hands, and a pug nose. Her shaggy mop of red hair stuck out in all directions. She looked plump as she crouched there, but most of that was layers of fur and wool and leather. Underneath all that she could be as skinny as Arya. (Jon VI, ACoK)

She wasn't wed and her weapon of choice was a short curved bow of horn and weirwood, but "spearwife" fit her all the same. She reminded him a little of his sister Arya, though Arya was younger and probably skinnier. It was hard to tell how plump or thin Ygritte might be, with all the furs and skins she wore. (Jon II, ASoS)

"If you kill a man, and never mean t', he's just as dead," Ygritte said stubbornly. Jon had never met anyone so stubborn, except maybe for his little sister Arya. Is she still my sister? he wondered. Was she ever? (Jon III, ASoS)

Jon could almost see her in that moment, long-faced and gawky, all knobby knees and sharp elbows, with her dirty face and tangled hair. They would wash the one and comb the other, he did not doubt, but he could not imagine Arya in a wedding gown, nor Ramsay Bolton's bed. No matter how afraid she is, she will not show it. If he tries to lay a hand on her, she'll fight him. (Jon VI, ADwD)

"The heart is all that matters. Do not despair, Lord Snow. Despair is a weapon of the enemy, whose name may not be spoken. Your sister is not lost to you."

"I have no sister." The words were knives. What do you know of my heart, priestess? What do you know of my sister?

Melisandre seemed amused. "What is her name, this little sister that you do not have?"

"Arya." His voice was hoarse. "My half-sister, truly..."

Would she still have that little sword he'd had Mikken forge for her? Stick them with the pointy end, he'd told her. Wisdom for her wedding night if half of what he heard of Ramsay Snow was true. Bring her home, Mance. I saved your son from Melisandre, and now I am about to save four thousand of your free folk. You owe me this one little girl. (Jon XI, ADwD)

She wondered if he would still call her "little sister." I'm not so little anymore. He'd have to call me something else. (Arya VIII, ASoS)

The girl smiled in a way that reminded Jon so much of his little sister that it almost broke his heart. "Let him be scared of me." The snowflakes were melting on her cheeks, but her hair was wrapped in a swirl of lace that Satin had found somewhere, and the snow had begun to collect there, giving her a frosty crown. Her cheeks were flushed and red, and her eyes sparkled. (Jon X, ADwD)

You know nothing, Jon Snow. He thought of Arya, her hair as tangled as a bird's nest. I made him a warm cloak from the skins of the six whores who came with him to Winterfell…I want my bride back…I want my bride back…I want my bride back… (Jon XIII, ADwD)

#asoiaf #jon snow #arya stark #ramble #needleheart #jonrya #canonjonsnow #canonarya

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aerltarg · 3 years ago

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Jon Snow Month 2022

Day 14: Arya Stark

“First lesson,” Jon said. “Stick them with the pointy end.”

Arya gave him a whap on the arm with the flat of her blade. The blow stung, but Jon found himself grinning like an idiot. “I know which end to use,” Arya said. A doubtful look crossed her face. “Septa Mordane will take it away from me.”

“Not if she doesn’t know you have it,” Jon said.

“Who will I practice with?”

“You’ll find someone,” Jon promised her. “King’s Landing is a true city, a thousand times the size of Winterfell. Until you find a partner, watch how they fight in the yard. Run, and ride, make yourself strong. And whatever you do…”

Arya knew what was coming next. They said it together.

“…don’t… tell… Sansa!”

Jon messed up her hair. “I will miss you, little sister.”

Suddenly she looked like she was going to cry. “I wish you were coming with us.”

“Different roads sometimes lead to the same castle. Who knows?” He was feeling better now. He was not going to let himself be sad. “I better go. I’ll spend my first year on the Wall emptying chamber pots if I keep Uncle Ben waiting any longer.”

Arya ran to him for a last hug. “Put down the sword first,” Jon warned her, laughing. She set it aside almost shyly and showered him with kisses.

When he turned back at the door, she was holding it again, trying it for balance. “I almost forgot,” he told her. “All the best swords have names.”

“Like Ice,” she said. She looked at the blade in her hand. “Does this have a name? Oh, tell me.”

“Can’t you guess?” Jon teased. “Your very favorite thing.”

Arya seemed puzzled at first. Then it came to her. She was that quick. They said it together:

“Needle!”

The memory of her laughter warmed him on the long ride north. (Jon II, AGOT)

[...] And Arya… he missed her even more than Robb, skinny little thing that she was, all scraped knees and tangled hair and torn clothes, so fierce and willful. Arya never seemed to fit, no more than he had… yet she could always make Jon smile. He would give anything to be with her now, to muss up her hair once more and watch her make a face, to hear her finish a sentence with him. (Jon III, AGOT)

Jon had never met anyone so stubborn, except maybe for his little sister Arya. Is she still my sister? he wondered. Was she ever? (Jon III, ASOS)

“[...] Roose Bolton summons all leal lords to Barrowton, to affirm their loyalty to the Iron Throne and celebrate his son’s wedding to…” His heart seemed to stop for a moment. No, that is not possible. She died in King’s Landing, with Father.

“Lord Snow?” Clydas peered at him closely with his dim pink eyes. “Are you… unwell? You seem…”

“He’s to marry Arya Stark. My little sister.” Jon could almost see her in that moment, long-faced and gawky, all knobby knees and sharp elbows, with her dirty face and tangled hair. They would wash the one and comb the other, he did not doubt, but he could not imagine Arya in a wedding gown, nor Ramsay Bolton’s bed. No matter how afraid she is, she will not show it. If he tries to lay a hand on her, she’ll fight him.

“Your sister,” Iron Emmett said, “how old is…”

By now she’d be eleven, Jon thought. Still a child. “I have no sister. Only brothers. Only you.” Lady Catelyn would have rejoiced to hear those words, he knew. That did not make them easier to say. His fingers closed around the parchment. Would that they could crush Ramsay Bolton’s throat as easily. (Jon VI, ADWD)

Jon felt as stiff as a man of sixty years. Dark dreams, he thought, and guilt. His thoughts kept returning to Arya. There is no way I can help her. I put all kin aside when I said my words. If one of my men told me his sister was in peril, I would tell him that was no concern of his. Once a man had said the words his blood was black. Black as a bastard’s heart. He’d had Mikken make a sword for Arya once, a bravo’s blade, made small to fit her hand. Needle. He wondered if she still had it. Stick them with the pointy end, he’d told her, but if she tried to stick the Bastard, it could mean her life. (Jon VI, ADWD)

“The heart is all that matters. Do not despair, Lord Snow. Despair is a weapon of the enemy, whose name may not be spoken. Your sister is not lost to you.”

“I have no sister.” The words were knives. What do you know of my heart, priestess? What do you know of my sister?

Melisandre seemed amused. “What is her name, this little sister that you do not have?”

“Arya.” His voice was hoarse. “My half-sister, truly…”

“… for you are bastard born. I had not forgotten. I have seen your sister in my fires, fleeing from this marriage they have made for her. Coming here, to you. A girl in grey on a dying horse, I have seen it plain as day. It has not happened yet, but it will.” (Jon VI, ADWD)

[...] Jon Snow sank to one knee in the snow. Gods of my fathers, protect these men. And Arya too, my little sister, wherever she might be. I pray you, let Mance find her and bring her safe to me. (Jon VII, ADWD)

A grey girl on a dying horse, fleeing from her marriage. On the strength of those words he had loosed Mance Rayder and six spearwives on the north. “Young ones, and pretty,” Mance had said. The unburnt king supplied some names, and Dolorous Edd had done the rest, smuggling them from Mole’s Town. It seemed like madness now. He might have done better to strike down Mance the moment he revealed himself. Jon had a certain grudging admiration for the late King-Beyond-the-Wall, but the man was an oathbreaker and a turncloak. He had even less trust in Melisandre. Yet somehow here he was, pinning his hopes on them. All to save my sister. But the men of the Night’s Watch have no sisters. (Jon VII, ADWD)

[...] “M’lord, you’re wanted. Beg pardon, m’lord. A girl’s been found.”

“A girl?” Jon sat, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with the back of his hands. “Val? Has Val returned?”

“Not Val, m’lord. This side of the Wall, it were.”

Arya. Jon straightened. It had to be her.

[...]

A grey girl on a dying horse. Melisandre’s fires had not lied, it would seem. But what had become of Mance Rayder and his spearwives? “Where is the girl now?”

“Maester Aemon’s chambers, m’lord.” The men of Castle Black still called it that, though by now the old maester should be warm and safe in Oldtown. “Girl was blue from the cold, shivering like all get out, so Ty wanted Clydas to have a look at her.”

“That’s good.” Jon felt fifteen years old again. Little sister. (Jon IX, ADWD)

He wanted to believe it would be Arya. He wanted to see her face again, to smile at her and muss her hair, to tell her she was safe. She won’t be safe, though. Winterfell is burned and broken and there are no more safe places.

He could not keep her here with him, no matter how much he might want to. (Jon IX, ADWD)

The girl smiled in a way that reminded Jon so much of his little sister that it almost broke his heart. (Jon X, ADWD)

[...] He wondered where Mance was now. Did he ever find you, little sister? Or were you just a ploy he used so I would set him free?

It had been so long since he had last seen Arya. What would she look like now? Would he even know her? Arya Underfoot. Her face was always dirty. Would she still have that little sword he’d had Mikken forge for her? Stick them with the pointy end, he’d told her. Wisdom for her wedding night if half of what he heard of Ramsay Snow was true. Bring her home, Mance. I saved your son from Melisandre, and now I am about to save four thousand of your free folk. You owe me this one little girl. (Jon XI, ADWD)

“A grey girl on a dying horse. Daggers in the dark. A promised prince, born in smoke and salt. It seems to me that you make nothing but mistakes, my lady. Where is Stannis? What of Rattleshirt and his spearwives? Where is my sister?” (Jon XIII, ADWD)

[...] He thought of Arya, her hair as tangled as a bird’s nest. I made him a warm cloak from the skins of the six whores who came with him to Winterfell… I want my bride back… I want my bride back… I want my bride back…

“I think we had best change the plan,” Jon Snow said. (Jon XIII, ADWD)

Jon fell to his knees. He found the dagger’s hilt and wrenched it free. In the cold night air the wound was smoking. “Ghost,” he whispered. Pain washed over him. Stick them with the pointy end. When the third dagger took him between the shoulder blades, he gave a grunt and fell face-first into the snow. He never felt the fourth knife. Only the cold… (Jon XIII, ADWD)

“A shade more exhausting than needlework,” Jon observed.

“A shade more fun than needlework,” Arya gave back at him. Jon grinned, reached over, and messed up her hair. Arya flushed. They had always been close. Jon had their father's face, as she did. They were the only ones. Robb and Sansa and Bran and even little Rickon all took after the Tullys, with easy smiles and fire in their hair. When Arya had been little, she had been afraid that meant that she was a bastard too. It had been Jon she had gone to in her fear, and Jon who had reassured her. (Arya I, AGOT)

She wanted Jon to muss up her hair and call her “little sister” and finish her sentences with her. (Arya II, AGOT)

Lord Eddard Stark sighed. “My nine-year-old daughter is being armed from my own forge, and I know nothing of it. The Hand of the King is expected to rule the Seven Kingdoms, yet it seems I cannot even rule my own household. How is it that you come to own a sword, Arya? Where did you get this?”

Arya chewed her lip and said nothing. She would not betray Jon, not even to their father. (Arya II, AGOT)

“I says, come.” He grabbed her arm, hard.

Everything Syrio Forel had ever taught her vanished in a heartbeat. In that instant of sudden terror, the only lesson Arya could remember was the one Jon Snow had given her, the very first.

She stuck him with the pointy end, driving the blade upward with a wild, hysterical strength. (Arya IV, AGOT)

A whooping gang of small children went running past, chasing a rolling hoop. Arya stared at them with resentment, remembering the times she'd played at hoops with Bran and Jon and their baby brother Rickon. She wondered how big Rickon had grown, and whether Bran was sad. She would have given anything if Jon had been here to call her “little sister” and muss her hair. (Arya V, AGOT)

“Lumpyhead,” corrected Lommy. “He prob'ly stole it.”

“I did not!” she shouted. Jon Snow had given her Needle. Maybe she had to let them call her Lumpyhead, but she wasn't going to let them call Jon a thief. (Arya I, ACOK)

She yearned to see her mother again, and Robb and Bran and Rickon... but it was Jon Snow she thought of most. She wished somehow they could come to the Wall before Winterfell, so Jon might muss up her hair and call her “little sister.” She'd tell him, “I missed you,” and he'd say it too at the very same moment, the way they always used to say things together. She would have liked that. She would have liked that better than anything. (Arya I, ACOK)

They talked over her as she lay hurting, but Arya could not seem to understand the words. Her ears rang. When she tried to crawl off, the earth moved beneath her. They took Needle. The shame of that hurt worse than the pain, and the pain hurt a lot. Jon had given her that sword. Syrio had taught her to use it. (Arya V, ACOK)

She missed Jon Snow the most of all her brothers. (Arya I, ASOS)

Jon has a mother. Wylla, her name is Wylla. She would need to remember so she could tell him, the next time she saw him. She wondered if he would still call her “little sister.” I'm not so little anymore. He'd have to call me something else. Maybe once she got to Riverrun she could write Jon a letter and tell him what Ned Dayne had said. (Arya VIII, ASOS)

She still had one brother left. Jon will want me, even if no one else does. He'll call me “little sister” and muss my hair. (Arya XII, ASOS)

Her home was gone, her parents dead, and all her brothers slain but Jon Snow on the Wall. That was where she had wanted to go. (Arya I, AFFC)

She stood on the end of the dock, pale and goosefleshed and shivering in the fog. In her hand, Needle seemed to whisper to her. Stick them with the pointy end, it said, and, don't tell Sansa! Mikken's mark was on the blade. It's just a sword. If she needed a sword, there were a hundred under the temple. Needle was too small to be a proper sword, it was hardly more than a toy. She'd been a stupid little girl when Jon had it made for her. “It's just a sword,” she said, aloud this time...

... but it wasn't.

Needle was Robb and Bran and Rickon, her mother and her father, even Sansa. Needle was Winterfell's grey walls, and the laughter of its people. Needle was the summer snows, Old Nan's stories, the heart tree with its red leaves and scary face, the warm earthy smell of the glass gardens, the sound of the north wind rattling the shutters of her room. Needle was Jon Snow's smile. He used to mess my hair and call me “little sister,” she remembered, and suddenly there were tears in her eyes. (Arya II, AFFC)

She had never cared if she was pretty, even when she was stupid Arya Stark. Only her father had ever called her that. Him, and Jon Snow, sometimes. Her mother used to say she could be pretty if she would just wash and brush her hair and take more care with her dress, the way her sister did. To her sister and sister's friends and all the rest, she had just been Arya Horseface. But they were all dead now, even Arya, everyone but her half-brother, Jon. Some nights she heard talk of him, in the taverns and brothels of the Ragman's Harbor. The Black Bastard of the Wall, one man had called him. Even Jon would never know Blind Beth, I bet. That made her sad. (The Blind Girl, ADWD)

#jon snow #arya stark #jonsnowmonth2022 #asoiaf #asoiafedit #valyrianscrolls #jon x arya #jonrya #book jon snow #book arya stark #myedit #rip there are so many quotes from them abt each other i lit couldnt pick any its insane #STOP SIMPING FOR EACH OTHER SM THIS IS RIDICULOUS #also grrm every fucking book: jon and arya the most beloved and important ppl for each other do you remember do you remember :))))#DUDEEE #this is jonrya crying hours byeee #also friendly reminder that if we arent getting the next books then jon dying for arya is our endgame <3333

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lazywonderlvnd · 4 years ago

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um!! i challenged myself to write smth abt nonsexual intimacy in 500 words n here it is 😔✌️(u can also find it in my oneshot collection on ao3)

His fingertips pass delicate over the ridges of Draco’s teeth; only in this way can he feel the subtle irregularities, the misshapen bumps and valleys in all that unyielding enamel. He wonders if this is what it would feel like if he reached inside Draco’s body and touched his bones.

He presses down on Draco’s tongue, slimy and wet and firm over muscle: unlike his teeth, it yields easily. Coated with spit, he drags them over a slightly swollen lip, smears it across his chin and down his neck and watches it glisten against skin as white as a winter moon.

“You’re skin,” says Harry. He dips his wet fingers into the hollow of Draco’s clavicle. He trails them down his arm, over a slightly rough elbow where the skin is dry and flaking. He touches the skin under Draco’s shirt, stretched across his hip bones; over his abdomen, where the skin is decorated with old scars and adds texture. “Miles of it.”

“What else?” Draco asks.

“Teeth,” says Harry. He touches them again, the canines which are a little too long, the molars with their subtle bumps and valleys. He counts them. “You’re thirty-two teeth.”

Do you like them? Draco’s eyes ask.

“I love them,” says Harry. He does. He slides his finger along Draco’s pink gums, across his lips. He touches his nose and says, “You’re a pointy nose.”

“You’re a wide nose,” Draco says. “What else am I?”

“Hair.” He touches Draco’s hair. It’s whiter than his skin and just long enough to reach his ears and curl over the cartilage. “You’re silver hair. Like a unicorn tail.”

“My wand has unicorn tail hair.”

“I know,” says Harry. Draco smiles sleepily. “Suits you.”

“Tell me more.”

“You’re feet,” Harry tells him. He bends Draco’s leg and lifts his foot, and he kisses the arch. He hasn’t examined many feet, but he thinks Draco’s must be the softest. Then he kisses the sharp ankle bone. “And skinny ankles.”

This time Draco laughs. “You are too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Draco says. “And knobby knees.”

“Knobby knees,” Harry echoes, grinning. “You’re clean fingernails.”

“You’re bitten fingernails,” says Draco. He skims his lips over Harry’s fingers, and then his palm. “And rough hands and dark skin.”

“You’re light skin,” says Harry. He lifts Draco’s arm, kisses the steadily fading mark that is as much a part of his body as his clean fingernails and pointy nose. “And inside you’re blood and guts and atoms.”

Draco smiles, pleased, as if Harry has just recited back to him a secret they share. As if he’s the only one who knows what’s inside Draco’s body, because he’s the only one who’s been allowed to look.

“And you,” says Draco. Harry frowns.

“Me?”

“You’re inside of me,” he says. “With the blood and guts and atoms.”

Harry almost smiles, because it almost sounds corny: then he realises it’s not corny at all, and he stares at Draco a long time.

“You’re inside me too,” he says finally.

#anna writes #drarry fic #👻#i think its the shortest thing ive ever written #cb this accomplishment

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istumpysk · 3 years ago

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"Who cares if arya is average looking? Jon thinks shes pretty."- When does he ever say that in the books??? Also, even if he did, considering he looks just like her, that just means he has a vain streak lol. "If you don't know robert and rhegar both fell for 'average' lyanna not beautiful cercei or lysa."-- "My fav is the best because she had older men preying on her at 14" is not the flex you think it is, anon. It's even less of a flex when you consider one of them only wanted her to feel closer to her brother, and the other only went after her AFTER he found out he couldn't get his wife pregnant again w/ a 3rd prophecy baby without killing her... but I guess you think they're quality men b/c they were hot, is that it, anon? The irony... "They grew up to be frustrated old women while lyanna got all the love." I think Lyanna would have rather also gotten to grow up to be a old woman instead of being loved and DEAD at FIFTEEN, but ok anon.

Look out! Damn, girl. I should just let you guys handle my anons, you do a better job of it.

I’m still laughing. Leave it to an Arya stan to awkwardly drag Lysa Tully into any argument.

Here’s the passage the anon was likely referencing:

"It is not pretty."

"Good." She had never cared if she was pretty, even when she was stupid Arya Stark. Only her father had ever called her that. Him, and Jon Snow, sometimes. Her mother used to say she could be pretty if she would just wash and brush her hair and take more care with her dress, the way her sister did. To her sister and sister's friends and all the rest, she had just been Arya Horseface. But they were all dead now, even Arya, everyone but her half-brother, Jon.

I don’t doubt for a second both Ned and Jon were being sincere with her. That’s family, of course they’re going to see her as beautiful. They’re good men.

With that being said, we have access to Jon’s internal monologue, and in the same book we get a pretty clear idea of what Arya looks like through the eyes of someone who loves her:

She looked enough like Arya to give him pause, but only for a moment. A tall, skinny, coltish girl, all legs and elbows, her brown hair was woven in a thick braid and bound about with strips of leather. She had a long face, a pointy chin, small ears.

+.+

"He's to marry Arya Stark. My little sister." Jon could almost see her in that moment, long-faced and gawky, all knobby knees and sharp elbows, with her dirty face and tangled hair.

Long-faced. Gawky. All legs and elbows. Pointy. Dirty. Tangled. Coltish.

For all the vitriol thrown at Jeyne and Sansa over Arya Horseface, people tend to keep quiet over Jon Snow also likening Arya to a horse. Strange.

This is what Arya Stark looks like. It’s the source material. It’s not a landmine we should have to sidestep.

Our side of the fandom is acutely aware that conventional beauty is not associated with inherent goodness. I have to laugh at anyone coming over here to tell us that.

Like holy smokes, here I thought Targaryens and Lannisters were the bestest people in the story. Thanks for letting us know.

Thank you @sanktasansa

#stumpy ask #sanktasansa

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maisiestyle · 5 years ago

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Jon’s Love for Arya and Sansa are not the same

@sweetlingsansa

Your recent Jon x Love post gave me a chuckle. You appear quite confused in how Jon feels about the two Stark sisters. I’m going to address the way you chose to highlight this point: I sense you’re obviously projecting the feelings he has for one sister that George goes to great lengths to show his readers. In fact, George was specifically asked that question and his answer couldn’t be more clear:

On Jon/Arya:

Granny: Are you trying to say something to the reader by drilling into us how much Arya and Jon love each other?

George_RR_Martin: “Say something to the reader?” I’m just reporting how the characters feel. Of course, everything in the book says something to the reader.

Yet @sweetlingsansa reduces Jon’s feelings for Arya as simple family affection. Sigh. What books did you read? Very suspect. Then you falsely claim Jon apparently feels PURE, PERFECT, UNCONDITIONAL love (where?! lol) for the sister he barely spares a second, third or forth thought on? The sister he can go without seeing again if it meant he could have the other more important people back in his life. The sister that only thought about him when he was the last family she had left.

The sister Jon didn’t spare a thought for over her plight in King’s Landing surrounded by enemies. YET multiple times, he wonders how Arya is… even though deep down he knows she must be dead. Only one sister was worth breaking his vows for. It was only one sister that occupied his last thought before he died. His dearest wishes involved her. When Jon wakes from this “death” like Beric described and Lady Stoneheart is demonstrating, the last things that were most important to the undead person at the end of their life will be their fixation when they rise again. Lady Stoneheart’s search for Arya and killing Freys & Lannisters. Revenge. With Jon, he died with a mission he pledged himself to in riding south to Winterfell to face Ramsay Bolton and get Arya back.

“… I want my bride back … I want my bride back … I want my bride back …” was the last thing Jon considers before he decides to break his vows.

“I have my swords, thought Jon Snow, and we are coming for you, Bastard.”

Jon’s death scene in ADWD was significant. His last word was Ghost, his last feeling was pain, and his last thoughts were about a girl he loved more than anything:

“Jon will want me, even if no one else does.” (Unconditional) - Arya

George is just reporting how the characters feel remember:

The memory of her laughter warmed him on the long ride north.

~*~

And Arya … he missed her even more than Robb, so fierce and willful. she could always make Jon smile. He would give anything to be with her now...

~*~

He remembered the day he had left Winterfell, all the bittersweet farewells; Bran lying broken, Robb with snow in his hair, Arya raining kisses on him after he’d given her Needle.

~*~

That might mean Lord Eddard would return to Winterfell, and his sisters as well. He might even be allowed to visit them, with Lord Mormont’s permission. It would be good to see Arya’s grin again and to talk with his father.

(These two last quotes above are striking in their exclusion of one sister. Yikes.)

~*~

He remembered suddenly how he used to muss Arya’s hair. His little stick of a sister. He wondered how she was faring. It made him a little sad to think that he might never muss her hair again.

This is from Book 2. He thinks she is still alive? When everyone else thinks she’s dead.

~*~

Jon had never met anyone so stubborn, except maybe for his little sister Arya. Is she still my sister? he wondered. Was she ever?

This is just so major, the implications. Wow.

~*~

His thoughts kept returning to Arya. There is no way I can help her. I put all kin aside when I said my words. If one of my men told me his sister was in peril, I would tell him that was no concern of his. Once a man had said the words his blood was black. Black as a bastard’s heart. He’d had Mikken make a sword for Arya once, a bravo’s blade, made small to fit her hand. Needle. He wondered if she still had it. Stick them with the pointy end, he’d told her, but if she tried to stick the Bastard, it could mean her life.

~*~

“I have no sister.” The words were knives. What do you know of my heart, priestess? What do you know of my sister?

I love winning.

~*~

Melisandre seemed amused. “What is her name, this little sister that you do not have?”

“Arya.” His voice was hoarse. “My half-sister, truly …”

~*~

Gods of my fathers, protect these men. And Arya too, my little sister, wherever she might be. I pray you, let Mance find her and bring her safe to me.

~*~

He glanced at the letter again. I will save your sister if I can. A surprisingly tender sentiment from Stannis, though undercut by that final, brutal if I can and the addendum and find a better match for her than Ramsay Snow. But what if Arya was not there to be saved? What if Lady Melisandre’s flames had told it true? Could his sister truly have escaped such captors? How would she do that? Arya was always quick and clever, but in the end she’s just a little girl, and Roose Bolton is not the sort who would be careless with a prize of such great worth.

He keeps hitting that right spot. Jon the president of the Arya Stark stanclub from day mf 1.

~*~

What if Bolton never had his sister? This wedding could well be just some ruse to lure Stannis into a trap. A grey girl on a dying horse, fleeing from her marriage. On the strength of those words he had loosed Mance Rayder and six spearwives on the north. He had even less trust in Melisandre. Yet somehow here he was, pinning his hopes on them. All to save my sister. But the men of the Night’s Watch have no sisters.

~*~

And keep him away from the red woman. She knows who he is. She sees things in her fires.”

Arya, he thought, hoping it was so.

~*~

“That’s good.” Jon felt fifteen years old again. Little sister. He rose and donned his cloak.

~*~

He wanted to believe it would be Arya. He wanted to see her face again, to smile at her and muss her hair, to tell her she was safe.

~*~

The girl smiled in a way that reminded Jon so much of his little sister that it almost broke his heart.

~*~

The girl smiled in a way that reminded Jon so much of his little sister that it almost broke his heart. “Let him be scared of me.” The snowflakes were melting on her cheeks, but her hair was wrapped in a swirl of lace that Satin had found somewhere, and the snow had begun to collect there, giving her a frosty crown. Her cheeks were flushed and red, and her eyes sparkled.

“Winter’s lady.” Jon squeezed her hand.

~*~

He wondered where Mance was now. Did he ever find you, little sister? Or were you just a ploy he used so I would set him free?

~*~

It had been so long since he had last seen Arya. What would she look like now? Would he even know her? Would she still have that little sword he’d had Mikken forge for her? Stick them with the pointy end, he’d told her. Wisdom for her wedding night if half of what he heard of Ramsay Snow was true.

Sill worrying about Arya’s wedding night. Wow.

~*~

Bring her home, Mance. I saved your son from Melisandre, and now I am about to save four thousand of your free folk. You owe me this one little girl.

~*~

You know nothing, Jon Snow. He thought of Arya, her hair as tangled as a bird’s nest. I made him a warm cloak from the skins of the six whores who came with him to Winterfell … I want my bride back … I want my bride back … I want my bride back …

These aren’t even ALL the Jon/Arya quotes from the books, no conjecture, tortured symbolism, imaginary themes/loose connections/extrapolations or weak nonsense explanations, just direct quotes.

Direct. quotes.said.by/about.two.people. Something most Jonsas have very little experience with I know. The Arya quotes would fill pages.

This wasn’t done by accident. George didn’t do this for fun.

These two matter to eachother on a level you don’t seem to understand or want to acknowledge.

#jon snow #Arya Stark #Sansa Stark #house stark #jon x arya #Jon x Sansa #jonrya #jonsa #anti jonsa #asoaif #game of thrones #grrmartin #winterfell #winds of winter #greek mythology

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alinaastarkov · 4 years ago

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Are there any specific Jonrya Quotes that doesn't mean sibling love? If so which ones?

Yes! Loads! Thanks for this ask.

She [Ygritte] is no older than I am. Something about her made him think of Arya, though they looked nothing at all alike. "Will you yield?" he asked, giving the dirk a half turn. And if she doesn't? - Jon VI ACOK

I don’t know about you guys, but it’s not often I’m romantically attracted to someone who immediately reminds me of my sibling. But hey, maybe that’s just me.

Once again, I tend not to imagine my (future) romantic partner’s naked body and think of my sibling. I’m starting to sense a pattern 🤔

"NO!" Arya and Gendry both said, at the exact same instant. Hot Pie quailed a little. Arya gave Gendry a sideways look. He said it with me, like Jon used to do, back in Winterfell. She missed Jon Snow the most of all her brothers. - Arya I ASOS

Even Arya is comparing her (future potential) love interest to Jon. It’s an epidemic!

She reminded him a little of his sister Arya, though Arya was younger and probably skinnier. It was hard to tell how plump or thin Ygritte might be, with all the furs and skins she wore. - Jon II ASOS

Yet another instance of Jon thinking of Ygritte’s body beneath her clothes and thinking of Arya. Hmm, suspicious 👀

Kind of strange to question his relationship to Arya, especially after all of those inappropriate thoughts regarding Ygritte. And to question only Arya? Seems like someone really wishes they weren’t blood related so it wouldn’t feel wrong to think of her that way...

"It wasn't Longspear, then?" Jon was relieved. He liked Longspear, with his homely face and friendly ways. She punched him. "That's vile. Would you bed your sister?" "Longspear's not your brother." - Jon III ASOS

Real smooth, Jon. Real smooth. Notice how he totally dodges the question? How we never get an answer on if he would bed his sister? Perhaps because the answer is yes?? Notice how this sounds a lot like it might tie in to “their passion will continue to torment them until the secret of Jon’s parentage is revealed in the last book”? Very suspicious.

"He's with the Night's Watch on the Wall." Maybe I should go to the Wall instead of Riverrun. Jon wouldn't care who I killed or whether I brushed my hair . . . "Jon looks like me, even though he's bastard-born. He used to muss my hair and call me 'little sister.'" Arya missed Jon most of all. Just saying his name made her sad. - Arya VIII ASOS

“I know where we could go," Arya said. She still had one brother left. Jon will want me, even if no one else does. He'll call me "little sister" and muss my hair. - Arya XII ASOS

Maybe not explicitly romantic per se, but it is telling that she genuinely believes her own mother and brother would not want her for superficial reasons and because of the people she killed in self-defense, but her belief in Jon doesn’t waver for a single second.

Jon has a mother. Wylla, her name is Wylla. She would need to remember so she could tell him, the next time she saw him. She wondered if he would still call her "little sister." I'm not so little anymore. He'd have to call me something else. - Arya VIII ASOS

Arya’s questioning her relationship with him too?! To distance herself from him and subconsciously make it easier to deal with romantic feelings in the future?! Will it ever end?!

"It's just a sword," she said, aloud this time . . . . . . but it wasn't. Needle was Robb and Bran and Rickon, her mother and her father, even Sansa. Needle was Winterfell's grey walls, and the laughter of its people. Needle was the summer snows, Old Nan's stories, the heart tree with its red leaves and scary face, the warm earthy smell of the glass gardens, the sound of the north wind rattling the shutters of her room. Needle was Jon Snow's smile. He used to mess my hair and call me "little sister," she remembered, and suddenly there were tears in her eyes. - Arya II AFFC

This is so sweet and the specificity of his smile over the more general descriptions of the rest of her family mark it out as different in some way.

Arya loves Jon so much she wishes he could meet her alter-egos too. Ugh, the romantic angst is too much.

"He's to marry Arya Stark. My little sister." Jon could almost see her in that moment, long-faced and gawky, all knobby knees and sharp elbows, with her dirty face and tangled hair. They would wash the one and comb the other, he did not doubt, but he could not imagine Arya in a wedding gown, nor Ramsay Bolton's bed. No matter how afraid she is, she will not show it. If he tries to lay a hand on her, she'll fight him. "Your sister," Iron Emmett said, "how old is …" By now she'd be eleven, Jon thought. Still a child. "I have no sister. Only brothers. Only you." Lady Catelyn would have rejoiced to hear those words, he knew. That did not make them easier to say. His fingers closed around the parchment. Would that they could crush Ramsay Bolton's throat as easily. - Jon VI ADWD

Once again, Jon thinks of Arya in a way that a brother really shouldn’t think of a sister. Funny how he specifically says “Ramsay Bolton’s bed”, and not just any man’s bed? Maybe because he can imagine her in someone’s (his)? Either way, weird thing to think about, Jon. And a very violent reaction to your sister’s marriage. Way more than his reaction to another sister’s marriage. Definitely intense feeling that goes beyond sibling bond.

"I have no sister." The words were knives. What do you know of my heart, priestess? What do you know of my sister? Melisandre seemed amused. "What is her name, this little sister that you do not have?" "Arya." His voice was hoarse. "My half-sister, truly …" - Jon VI ADWD

Need I say more?

Jon felt fifteen years old again. Little sister. - Jon IX ADWD

This is not so big in terms of non-sibling feelings but it is a very intense reaction and also I love Jon being such an emo little shit here cause... Jon, bby, you’re sixteen. Calm down.

This is such a romanticised scene and the fact that it mentions Arya at the same time, and Jon’s intense feeling again, gives me pause and made me put it on this list.

It had been so long since he had last seen Arya. What would she look like now? Would he even know her? Arya Underfoot. Her face was always dirty. Would she still have that little sword he'd had Mikken forge for her? Stick them with the pointy end, he'd told her. Wisdom for her wedding night if half of what he heard of Ramsay Snow was true. Bring her home, Mance. I saved your son from Melisandre, and now I am about to save four thousand of your free folk. You owe me this one little girl. - Jon XI ADWD

Again, veeeerrry intense feelings, the mention of her wedding night again, and the fact that he once more questions his relationship with her. It’s too repetitive and obvious not to mean something.

You know nothing, Jon Snow. He thought of Arya, her hair as tangled as a bird's nest. I made him a warm cloak from the skins of the six whores who came with him to Winterfell … I want my bride back … I want my bride back … I want my bride back … "I think we had best change the plan," Jon Snow said. - Jon XIII ADWD

So, Jon thinks of his former lover and Arya right after, repeats the phrase “I want my bride back” specifically in reference to Arya, and imo “bride” is not what you call someone you have only platonic/ familial feelings for. That would be very weird. Then he abandons all his vows, something he had the opportunity to do and didn’t at least 3 separate times, for and only for Arya, and if that ain’t just the most romantic shit you ever heard. And then of course he literally dies with her as his last thought. Romantic. As. Fuck!

There is more than this, but you asked for things that don’t also mean sibling love, so here you go! 🤗

#asoiaf #jonrya #jon snow #arya stark #jon x arya #jonarya #my meta #sort of #shut up neve #Anonymous #neve has mail

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ladyaryawolf · 5 years ago

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"Jon could almost see her in that moment, long-faced and gawky, all knobby knees and sharp elbows, with her dirty face and tangled hair [...]His thoughts kept returning to Arya. There is no way I can help her. I put all kin aside when I said my words. If one of my men told me his sister was in peril, I would tell him that was no concern of his [...]He’d had Mikken make a sword for Arya once, a bravo’s blade, made small to fit her hand. Needle. He wondered if she still had it. Stick them with the pointy end, he’d told her, but if she tried to stick the Bastard, it could mean her life." (Jon, A Dance with Dragons).

#jonrya #jon snow #arya stark #jonrya week 2020 #jonryaweek #jonarya #otp that was promised #asoiaf!edit #asoiafedit #got edit #a song of ice and fire #book!jon #book!arya #i want my bride back #the night wolf #the white wolf

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captainfangirlll · 6 years ago

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BOOK JON SNOW VS SHOW JON SNOW

Books: Jon is 15 years old in books, he still has the mind of a kid, he plays with Robb and his other siblings , the best family relationship he have are Robb and Arya, Bran aswell meanwhile Rickon and Sansa are distant (in Rickon case is because he is practically a baby)

Show: Jon is a teenager in the show, we can see his relationship with Robb in a matured way, we also acknowledge he has a good relationship with Bran and the best with Arya.

Books: Thorne starts to dislike Jon in books when he starts to train his companions, Thorne said to Jon that it would be easier to him teach some tricks to Ghost than Jon teach his friends, Jon answer to him that he would like to see Ghost doing some tricks and everyone laugh at him, since that moment Thorne said to Jon he made a mistake.

Show: Thorne just dislike Jon since the beginning there is no a specific reason why he treated him bad.

Books: Qhorin orders Jon to kill Ygritte, but Jon secretly lets her go instead. Before she leaves, Ygritte informs Jon that Mance Rayder would accept him, if he wanted to join the free folk.

Show: Ygritte scapes from Jon in show so he is captured by the free folk.

Books: Jon is a warg in books like Bran, he sees through the eyes of Ghost, and witnesses thousands of wildlings, and giants and mammoths, before being attacked by an eagle in beyond the wall journet with Qhorin, Jon informs the group, who recognize him for a warg.

Show: We don’t see Jon warg skills in show.

Book: Jon kills Qhorin with the help of Ghost, to win the trust of thr wildings, so they agree to bring him to Mance Rayder.

Show: Jon Kills Qhorin by his own, Ghost is not with them.

Books: Ygritte is kind of adolescent in books meanwhile Jon is a pre teen that’s why he is so scared and nervous about her sexual implications.

Show: Jon and Ygritte have the same age but Jon is still nervous arround her.

Books: Edric Dayne, Lord of Starfall and a member of the brotherhood without banners, tells Arya that he is Jon's milk brother, as they shared the same wet nurse, Wylla.

Show: We don’t see Edric in show so Arya never knew this.

Book: Jon didn’t fight with his sword in castle black battle with the wildings he spent all the battle in the wall with the arches helping Donal Noye in the defense of Castle Black against Styr's raider, he finds Ygritte who dies in a grief-stricken Jon's arms.

Show: Jon spends a time in the wall with the archers but then he down for the battle and fight sword to sword with wilds, also he finds Ygritte but Olly kills her before anything happens in front of him.

Book: Mance Rayder figths in casttle black battle this crows vs wildings battle is for days, Donal has Jon command from atop the Wall while the blacksmith descends to defend the gate. After Donal is killed by Mag Mar Tun Doh Weg, Jon reluctantly takes command of the Wall's defenses, after prompting from Master Aemon. Jon successfully holds the Wall against overwhelming odds for several days.

Show: The batlle of casttle black is in one night.

Books: Fearing that Melisandre might burn Maester Aemon and the infant of the captured Mance Rayder for their royal blood, Jon secretly swaps Mance's son with Gilly's son. Jon sends Samwell Tarly to the Citadel to train as Castle Black's next maester, sending Aemon, Gilly, Mance's child, and Dareon with Sam.

Show: We don’t see any intention on Melissandre side to burn Maester Aemon, also Mance doesn’t have a son in show and he is the one burned by Melissandre by Jon kill him before.

Books: In King's Landing, Queen Regent Cersei Lannister is outraged to learn of Jon's appointment as Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, as he has given Stannis Baratheon shelter. The small council agrees that Jon must be removed from command. Grand Maester Pycelle suggests informing the Watch that the crown will send no more men to the Wall until Jon is removed. Cersei is delighted with Qyburn's suggestion to send a hundred recruits with secret orders to remove Jon. She plots to send Ser Osney Kettleblack to carry out the plan, but both Osney and Cersei are imprisoned by the Faith of the Seven before these plans can come to fruition.

Show: Jon ascension as Lord Commander didn’t have important in Kings Landing.

Book: Jon never went to hardhome to rescued wildings the ones who goes are his nigths watch companions and some wildings so he actually haven’t kill a white walker yet.

Show: Jon goes to hardhome to rescued the wildings and he fights with a White Walker and killed him also meets the night King who until now doesn’t exist in books.

Show: Jon and The night king exchange a lot of glances.

Book: We haven’t see the Night King in books, there also no evidence about a Knight King just about a leader figured with a white woman by his side.

Books: Jon finds out Ramsay Bolton will marry Arya Stark, Melisandre informs Jon she has had a vision of a girl on a dying horse making for Castle Black. Melisandre reveals that she had changed the appearances of Mance and Rattleshirt with a glamor, so that Stannis actually executed Rattleshirt and that Mance has been serving Jon. Mance is sent to secretly rescue Arya.

“ Bring her home, Mance. I saved your son from Melisandre, and now I am about to save four thousand of your free folk. You owe me this one little girl” — Jon Snow.

- - -

His heart seemed to stop for a moment. No, that is not possible. She died in King’s Landing, with Father.

“Lord Snow?” Clydas peered at him closely with his dim pink eyes. “Are you … unwell? You seem …” “He’s to marry Arya Stark. My little sister.” Jon could almost see her in that moment, long-faced and gawky, all knobby knees and sharp elbows, with her dirty face and tangled hair. They would wash the one and comb the other, he did not doubt, but he could not imagine Arya in a wedding gown, nor Ramsay Bolton’s bed. No matter how afraid she is, she will not show it. If he tries to lay a hand on her, she’ll fight him. “Your sister,” Iron Emmett said, “how old is …” By now she’d be eleven, Jon thought.

(...)

While Jon despairs, Melisandre appears and offers a way to save Arya. She points out that Jon has power, and shouldn't be afraid to wield it.

“Do not despair, Lord Snow. Despair is a weapon of the enemy, whose name may not be spoken. Your sister is not lost to you.” I have no sister.” The words were knives. What do you know of my heart, priestess? What do you know of my sister? Melisandre seemed amused. “What is her name, this little sister that you do not have?” “Arya.” His voice was hoarse. “My half-sister, truly …” “Your Wall is a queer place, but there is power here, if you will use it. Power in you, and in this beast. You resist it, and that is your mistake. Embrace it. Use it.” ...“Take my hand,” she said again, “and let me save your sister.”

Show: Mance is dead in the show burned by Melissandre, and the one married Ramsay is Sansa Stark, Jon finds out about this but he doesn’t do anything to help her.

Books: After Stannis's wife, Queen Selyse Baratheon, arrives at Castle Black from Eastwatch, Jon negotiates with Tycho Nestoris, an envoy of the Iron Bank of Braavos. Jon agrees to a loan so the Watch can purchase food and supplies and hire ships.

Show: We never see this political Jon skills what a shame he he never negotiated with the Iron bank in the show, because stannis borrowed his ships to him.

Books: When Jon finds out about Hardhome he intends to rescue them, but he is interrupted by a taunting letter from Ramsay which claims that Stannis has been defeated and Mance captured. Jon relinquishes command of the ranging and announces his intention to ride south against House Bolton to save Arya and defends the Nights Watch. He does not order the Night's Watch to fight with him, but asks both wildlings and black brothers alike to join him of their own volition. Most wildlings in the Shieldhall agree to support him, but Jon's decision causes great discontent within the Watch's upper leadership.

Show: Jon go to Hardhome and doesn’t recieve any Ramsay letter.

Books: In books Jon is killed by some of the members of night watch in the confusion resulting from Wun Wun's killing of Ser Patrek of King's Mountain, he is attacked in the mutiny at Castle Black. While stabbing the Lord Commander, Bowen Marsh and Wick Wittlestick state "for the Watch" also because he is planning break his vows to rescued “Arya” from marry Ramsay.” with some castle black mans and the wildings.

Show: In tv show the members a of night watch killed Jon because he let’s the wildings pass the wall Thorne and Olly participate in his murder but in books Olly doesn’t exist and Thorne didn’t have part in this and he is still alive.

Books: Jon finals words and thoughts are dedicated to Ghost and Arya:

When Wick Whittlestick slashed at his throat, the word turned into a grunt. Jon twisted from the knife, just enough so it barely grazed his skin. He cut me. When he put his hand to the side of his neck, blood welled between his fingers. "Why?"

"For the Watch." Wick slashed at him again.

Jon manages to ward off Wick's second attack, but when he tries to draw Longclaw, "his fingers had grown stiff and clumsy. Somehow he could not seem to get the sword free of its scabbard." That's when the second knife hits.

Then Bowen Marsh stood there before him, tears running down his cheeks. "For the Watch." He punched Jon in the belly. When he pulled his hand away, the dagger stayed where he had buried it.

Jon fell to his knees. He found the dagger's hilt and wrenched it free. In the cold night air the wound was smoking. "Ghost," he whitspered. Pain washed over him. Stick them with the pointy end. When the third dagger took him between the shoulder blades, he gave a grunt and fell face-first into the snow. He never felt the fourth knife. Only the cold…

That's the last appearance of Jon Snow in "A Dance with Dragons, wich is also the last books realized so is the last time we know about him in books, and we all know what happens with him on show.

Other differences

• In books the quote “Love is the death of duty” by Maester Aemon is used when Jon decidesld break his vows from nights watch to save “Arya” (who is actually Jeyne Poole no Arya as I said in my Arya books vs show). Arya is the character Jon loves the most and he thinks on her in every moment:

And Arya … he missed her even more than Robb, skinny little thing that she was, all scraped knees and tangled hair and torn clothes, so fierce and willful. Arya never seemed to fit, no more than he had … yet she could always make Jon smile. He would give anything to be with her now, to muss up her hair once more and watch her make a face, to hear her finish a sentence with him. (A Game of Thrones, Jon III)

Jon felt as stiff as a man of sixty years. Dark dreams, he thought, and guilt.His thoughts kept returning to Arya. There is no way I can help her. I put all kin aside when I said my words. If one of my men told me his sister was in peril, I would tell him that was no concern of his. Once a man had said the words his blood was black. Black as a bastard’s heart. He’d had Mikken make a sword for Arya once, a bravo’s blade, made small to fit her hand. Needle. He wondered if she still had it. Stick them with the pointy end, he’d told her, but if she tried to stick the Bastard, it could mean her life.

Something about her made him think of Arya, though they looked nothing at all alike. — Jon when he meets Ygritte

They had always been close. Jon had their father’s face, as she did. They were the only ones. Robb and Sansa and Bran and even little Rickon all took after the Tullys, with easy smiles and fire in their hair. When Arya had been little, she had been afraid that meant that she was a bastard too. It had been Jon she had gone to in her fear, and Jon who had reassured her.

• Jon is more political in books than show, we seem him negotiating with the iron bank, confronting with Ramsay, taking decisions about Mance and Gilly babies and more, also Jon is not that perfect in books as in show, he have selfish thoughts sometimes but at the end he tries his best.

• His relationship with Ghost is deeper in books, he can warg him and is always by his side.

With all this changes between books and show we can assume that yes, Jon is gonna be resurrected but we don’t know if in the same way, but he will be darker after he comes back, he will abandoned the nights watch to save “Arya” and is gonna be king in the north but we will see it in a different way than the show.

He is gonna be a secret Targaryen too, and also ride a Dragon because in books we have the prophecy of the three heads of the dragon

“He has a song. He is the prince that was promised, and his is the song of ice and fire,” Rhaegar tells the nurse before looking directly at Daenerys and saying, “There must be one more. The dragon has three heads.”

So with that we can assume we will see Jon and Daenerys riding the dragons in books also one more Targaryen (maybe Aemon or Tyrion book reades knows what im talking about )

Also I think he is gonna do more important things to the long night, is very posible we see Jonerys in books too and Jon killing her at the end, but I think is gonna be played different with the Azor Ahai prophecy because I have the strong theory Jon is Azor Ahai:

“There will come a day after a long summer when the stars bleed and the cold breath of darkness falls heavy on the world. In this dread hour a warrior shall draw from the fire a burning sword. And that sword shall be Lightbringer, the Red Sword of Heroes, and he who clasps it shall be Azor Ahai come again, and the darkness shall flee before him.” — Books prophecy.

Azor Ahai killed Nissa Nissa who was his wife. In order to unleash the powers of the sword Lightbringer so that he could defeat the darkness of the Great Other, he had to sacrifice her by plunging it into her heart. I think we will see that with Jon i Daenerys in a very unexpected way, I mean not intentionally way.

“According to prophecy, our champion will be reborn to wake dragons from stone and reforge the great sword Lightbringer that defeated the darkness those thousands of years ago. If the old tales are true, a terrible weapon forged with a loving wife's heart. Part of me thinks man was well rid of it, but great power requires great sacrifice. That much at least the Lord of Light is clear on.” — THOROS OF MYR.

In conclusion I really have big hopes for Jon finale arc in books, since there is no night king in books I expect Jon contributes to the battle against the others in a really original way, also his real identity as a Targeryen be more important in the history even i he has the same ending in books if he is journey is good it will don’t matter. Also he go to the wall by his choice not because he is exiled.

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snek-snuggles · 5 years ago

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Head cannon that Crowley and Aziraphale are super insecure about their bodies but the other believes they they are beautiful and sexy to them.

There is something to be said for learning to accept and love oneself through discovering another.

Aziraphale sees that even Crowley has stretch marks- on his thighs and arms and bum, just like him- and so as he kisses them all and finds he truly loves them, he learns to trust that Crowley loves his in return, just as he promised.

Crowley sees the way Aziraphale's knees and elbows are pointy and knobby, and melts in adoration. Then it occurs to him- the angel.had tried to convince him that his own pointy parts were beautiful, and he hadn't believed him. But now he is beginning to see it.

Aziraphale sees the faces Crowley makes, the twisted and contorted and agonized looking faces, the ones he's drawing out with his hands and mouth, and he stops worrying about whether his are unattractive. He likes the honesty, the rawness, the uncontrollable reactions. And he figures Crowley does too.

Crowley sees Aziraphale's messy, unkempt wings and remembers the way Aziraphale dawned over his serpent eyes.

They see one another, and through this, they see themselves. And it's all love.

#ask #good omens fluff #ineffable husbands

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xiaq · 5 years ago

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Sneak peek for next week’s WDWG chapter:

Moonrise finds them in the loft with the hay doors open: cool fall air, just a hint of bite to it, encouraging goosebumps on the still-damp patches of their skin. Draco is laid on his back in another one of Harry’s too-big t-shirts, limbs akimbo on the mattress. His head is pointed toward the open doors, one elbow over his eyes. His wet hair is making a dark spot on Harry’s sheets.

Harry is sat in the open door frame, one leg tucked up to his chest, one dangling over the edge outside, a mug of tea propped on his bent knee. There are still a few Whippoorwills calling softly to each other as darkness and quiet, hand-in-hand, blanket the rolling landscape of farmland—the black silhouette of the potions barn backgrounded by an ombre blue that turns to star-spangled ink in the endless expanse of sky above them.

Harry thinks that if he ever goes back to London it will feel far too small.

“What are muggle hospitals like?” Malfoy asks, apropos of nothing.

Harry shrugs, realizes he can’t see that, and says, “I wouldn’t know.”

Malfoy rolls onto his belly, shoving hair out of his face, weight on his elbows.

“Why not? Weren’t you raised by muggles?”

“I was, yeah. But I never went to the hospital. I went to the GP a few times to get the jabs I needed for school. But nothing else.”

“Did you never get sick? Or injured?”

“Oh, loads of times. But my Aunt and Uncle…”

He stops. Considers his audience. Starts again.

“Well. I got better, each time. So I suppose I didn’t need to go, anyway.”

Malfoy doesn’t say anything, but his eyes are wide and silver and a little too knowing in the low light.

“Did you ever break a bone before Hogwarts?” Malfoy asks. “I did. My arm. I stole my cousin’s broom when I was six and crashed directly into the caterer’s tent. It was my—oh, great aunt, I believe?—it was her fifth or sixth wedding. The ceremony had to be delayed because I was the ring bearer and it took half an hour to get my arm sorted. I don’t know why everyone was so vexed, no one was hurt apart from me and I only slightly dented the cake. It still tasted fine.”

Harry chokes on a laugh, imagining it: a tiny, pointy Malfoy on a runaway broom—likely in equally tiny, formal robes.

“So?” Malfoy prompts, and Harry remembers the story started with a question.

“Ah. Yeah. Few times, I think.”

He remembers an assortment of painful nights that turned into surprised mornings. Looking back, there were a few instances where the Dursleys likely would have had to take him to the hospital within a day or two, had his magic not, apparently, decided to intervene, but there was one time in particular—

“When I was nine, I broke my leg, I think.” He kicks the leg in question against the siding of the barn—still warm from a day spent absorbing the sun.

“My uncle was on a business trip and my Aunt had gone over to the neighbor’s to borrow something or other. My cousin always took advantage of those moments and I knew I was in for it if he could find me once she left. So I hid in the attic, only I couldn’t tell from the attic when she came back, and it was dark and I couldn’t see to get back out again.”

Malfoy blinks at him. It might be encouragement; it might be boredom.

Harry continues:

“So as I was trying to crawl back out, I accidentally fell between two of the joists and went straight through the kitchen ceiling.”

“I don’t understand,” Malfoy interrupts. “Joists? Did it not have a floor?”

“Oh. No, it wasn’t a finished attic. Just insulated. So the only thing between me and the kitchen was sheetrock.”

“Ah,” he looks like he still, maybe, doesn’t understand.

“So anyway, I came crashing down while my aunt was starting dinner and—yeah, the leg hurt when I landed, but her face. And the way she screamed. It was completely worth how angry they were over the hole in the ceiling.”

Malfoy doesn’t respond and Harry feels the grin on his face slip awkwardly into a grimace.

“Anyway. I was fine the next day, so. I guess my magic took care of things if it was broken.”

“You were nine,” Malfoy says. “And your Aunt was more concerned about the kitchen ceiling than your broken leg?”

“I mean. It was a pretty big hole. And I ruined dinner on the stove. What with the plaster everywhere.”

“That’s not—“

Malfoy’s eyes have gone narrow and Harry is suddenly regretting the whole conversation. He turns his attention back to his tea that’s gone cold. He nudges it warmer until hot steam curls up from the surface like a beckoning finger. He breathes it in but doesn’t drink.

“Why were you hiding from your cousin?” Malfoy asks.

“Ah,” a safer topic. “He didn’t like me much,” Harry says. “You two would have probably got on.”

Malfoy goes silent again and when Harry glances up he looks pale.

Well. Paler.

“Did your cousin hurt you?” Malfoy asks.

“I mean. Nothing terrible. I was just small and weird and an easy target. You know how kids are.”

“I,” Malfoy says. He wets his lips.

“I’d like to apologize. For anything I ever did that hurt you. I know I was a bit of a bully at times and there were certainly some aspects of my character that were due to a flawed upbringing and hardly my fault but I do regret—well. I have regrets. So. My apologies.”

There’s an urgency in Malfoy’s tone, under the stilted formality, that Harry doesn’t understand.

He considers the sharp ball of Malfoy’s right shoulder, bone pressed tight to white skin, where the stretched collar of Harry’s shirt has fallen to mid-bicep. He thinks about the faded scars on Malfoy’s chest that he’d seen only for a brief moment as they pulled off their wet clothes outside.

“I have regrets too,” Harry says, setting aside his mug. “And I’m—you were a right tosser at times but. I’m sorry. For the—” he gestures toward Malfoy’s chest. “I didn’t know what it would do.”

Malfoy looks blank.

“What?”

“In the bathroom. The spell I used. I didn’t know it would do that.”

“You used—how could you not know?”

“It was written in the margin of my potions book. It just said ‘for enemies’ and you were about to crucio me, so you fit the bill—”

“Because you’d just barged into the bathroom where I was crying and decided to be an utter arsehole to me!”

“And I feel bad about that now—wait. Why were you crying in the bathroom?”

He asks before he has the sense not to, but Malfoy just curls his lip and waves a hand.

“Oh, take your pick, Potter. The Dark Lord was living in my home along with an assortment of werewolves that took up tormenting me for sport. And my mother’s survival—it was clearly explained to me— depended upon my killing the headmaster of my school, which I’d been completely unable to do. Not for lack of opportunity, but because I didn’t want to kill him. But I also—my mother was—well. The point is, I was having a rather bad day. Week. Year, really.”

Oh.

Neither of them seems to know what to say after that, but they seem equally unable to look away from each other.

“I’m starting to think I made some incorrect assumptions about you,” Harry says finally.

Malfoy exhales.

“It’s possible I did the same.”

He says it soft. Maybe a little contrite.

“We both had rather shit childhoods, didn’t we?”

It startles a laugh out of Harry.

“I dunno,” Harry says. “Sounds like yours wasn’t bad at first. Broom theft and still getting to eat cake afterward? Only cake I ever had was what I snuck from the bin at night. You know my first ever birthday cake was from Hagrid when I turned eleven?”

“Jesus, Potter,” Malfoy mutters. “Alright, you win.”

Harry laughs, standing, and closes the hay doors, chaffing his hands over his bare arms. He summons two Weasley sweaters and tosses the slightly less-garish one to Malfoy.

“What are some things you wish you’d done?” Harry asks, pulling the nubby fabric over his head. “I mean. Are there things you feel like you missed out on?”

“What with my family pledging their allegiance to a storybook villain and my teenage years being lost to tyrannical madness?”

“Yeah, that.”

Malfoy sits up, strangely non-combative about donning a chunky, clearly hand-made, jumper with a giant H on it.

“All sorts,” he says, absently flopping the too-long cuffs of the sweater back and forth over his fingers. “I couldn’t ever have friends visit during holidays because there were always death eaters around having meetings. I wasn’t allowed to befriend half-bloods or muggle-borns. Didn’t have half the time I would have liked to work on coursework—not that I’m a swot or anything.”

Harry stifles a laugh at the hasty correction. “Course not.”

Malfoy looks at him suspiciously but continues: “I didn’t have the time or energy for the Slytherin common room parties or getting into trouble—well, normal trouble, like sneaking out to skinny dip in the lake or playing games of never have I ever with smuggled firewhisky. No dating. No awkward fumblings in the astronomy tower or trips to Hogsmeade with a…paramour.” He shrugs, maybe a little pink. “All sorts,” he repeats. “You?”

“I’d liked to have a pet, I think. Birthday parties. Sleepovers. Maybe played some school sports. I went to the zoo once—I wish I could have gone to more places like that. Aquariums. Museums. And at Hogwarts— Same as you, I suspect. With the parties and things. And I wish there was a way I could have spent my summer holidays at Hogwarts, as well. So I didn’t ever have to go back to my Aunt and Uncle’s.”

It occurs to him that he’s talking to Malfoy. That maybe he shouldn’t be sharing quite so much, except Malfoy has rolled back onto his belly again, his chin braced on one hand that is still completely ensconced in a knobby grey sleeve, looking up at Harry attentively.

“Strange they don’t have some sort of concession for that—especially for muggle-borns,” Draco says. “Seems like an oversight.”

He doesn’t say it with malice or judgment, just honest curiosity.

“I wonder why they don’t.”

“Hermione likely knows.”

“Probably,” he allows, the last syllable swallowed up in a yawn.

It’s early still, barely eight, but Harry is tired and he knows that Malfoy is likely exhausted as well after the last 24 hours. Especially since he hasn’t taken any of his evening potions.

Harry should go downstairs.

He should make himself a bed on the couch and tidy up the kitchen and maybe watch some TV before going to sleep.

But something anxious and pacing in his chest doesn’t want to leave Malfoy alone. Not while he’s weak and vulnerable and wearing Harry’s clothes.

Harry sighs and starts undressing.

“What are you doing, Potter?” Malfoy says, and then, a moment later, “Oh no. Don’t you dare. These sheets are clean and I’ll not have dog hair all over my—oh, honestly.”

Malfoy stops talking about the same time that Harry realizes he’s shoved his nose into Malfoy’s neck. He isn’t sure why, exactly, he’s shoved his nose into Malfoy’s neck, except that Malfoy smells rather good there—right in the soft space between throat and jaw and, as a wolf, he is strangely unbothered about violating Malfoy’s personal space.

He pulls back, remembering that Malfoy likely has a history of traumatic experiences involving wolves violating his personal space, but Draco’s heart rate is perfectly fine and he is muttering threats under his breath but he’s also shoving up his sleeves so he can scratch Harry’s ears.

So that’s fine, then.

Harry bullies him under the covers and then tucks himself against Draco’s side, chin on his ribs, feeling very pleased with himself.

“This isn’t going to become a thing,” Draco murmurs, doing something with his fingers that neither of them will ever admit is petting. “I just want you to be aware of that.”

#unedited so be forgiving #drarry #drarry fic #myfic #WDWG

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trianglegoddess · 5 years ago

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He Should Have Stayed

Good coffee isn’t bitter. That fact alone makes the cup that Bucky is drinking even more disappointing,but he paid three dollars for it, so he was going to drink it. Because really, that’s all he could do at the moment.

Steve had...Steve had pulled a Stark. Started a family with someone he hardly knew compared to Bucky, and it tore Bucky up inside something fierce. Bucky had never told Steve, not now or then, that the reason he was able to break through seventy years of Hydra programming was because once upon a time, he was absolutely head over heels in love with Steve.

It had snuck up on him. As kids they were best friends. As teenagers they, or at least Bucky, had started exploring. As adults, Bucky slept with every woman who would have him, because it was better than nothing. But he always knew that there was always someone who would rock his world more than any dame he took home.

Steve had had knobby knees and pointy elbows and terrible lungs, eyes, and ears. It seemed like the Universe was trying to kill him every second it got, but Steve ever did give in. He was always stubborn like that. That’s what Bucky admired about him the most.

He had enjoyed looking at Steve’s hands. That was probably Bucky’s favorite part about Steve. He had the hands of an artist, long fingers that had callouses on the side from gripping the pencil to hard. And when he joined the war, they became one of Bucky’s least favorite things about Steve. They were the same hands,long fingers and all, but there were new callouses, from holding guns and riding motorcycles through battlefields. They were no longer the hands of an artist, but a murderer. And Bucky’s were just as red.

Bucky always thought that Steve had joined because of him, but when he saw the way Steve looked at Peggy, he knew that that wasn’t it. Steve just wanted to do his part, just like he had said. Bucky just so happened to be a happy accident in Steve’s path.

Seventy years later, and Steve is the one breaking Bucky free. Memories came flooding back as he went through withdrawals, as he stormed every Hydra facility he remembered, as he swiftly killed the ones who did this to him. All the while memories from the war flashed behind his eyelids.

Then he was in Wakanda for a couple years, getting his shit fixed with Shuri’s help. And when he was finally better, he was fucking dusted. It felt like seconds and years all at once, because any time when he’s not around Steve feels like much to long.

And then, when everything is finally said and done, in those five seconds that Steve had used to return the stones, Bucky knew deep down that he wasn’t going to come back. Why would he? The only people he’s got left is Bucky and Sam and Bruce and all of the other superheroes. But he knew that Peggy was back there, probably waiting for Steve, because if Steve had been as close as he had claimed he was to her, there’s no way Miss Union Jack hadn’t noticed. She was much too good for that.

And when Steve didn’t come back, he was still disappointed. He knew it was too good to be true, to hope that maybe Steve would come back, if not for him then everybody else. Till the end of the line. Jesus, what bullshit.

Bucky watched, as Steve gave the shield to Sam. Which was fine with Bucky, because now that Steve has left him he wanted nothing to do with it. Looking at it made his stomach do flips. Looking at Steve’s aged face, happy and content with somebody other than him? It made him want to vomit.

Bucky sighed as he gripped his coffee mug a little tighter, not caring anymore if it broke. He would rather feel the sharp ceramic piercing his palm than the pain of Steve leaving him. Abandoning him. All Bucky’s ever wanted was Steve, and it’s Steve who has hurt him the most. And Bucky still wants Steve.

Steve should have stayed.

There’s a bell, and it’s close, Bucky knows, but it feels far away. A second later, a strong, warm hand is clapping itself on his shoulder. He looks up, finding Sam’s bright, warm eyes.

“You ready, partner?” He asked. Bucky shrugs. Then he chugs the rest of his bitter coffee, wishing it had been something better. Just like a lot of other things. But he doesn’t say it out loud loud. He’s had a lot of practice not saying it out loud.

“As I’ll ever be,” Bucky replies, and there’s a bitter taste in his mouth. He’s not completely sure that it’s from the coffee.

They walk out of the diner together.

Bucky wishes it was Steve.

#endgame #steve rogers #captain america #sam wilson #bucky barnes #winter soldier #falcon #avengers #stucky

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labexperimenttma-blog · 6 years ago

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Serum didn’t change those beautiful big blue eyes tho. Talk about PRETTY BOY, before and after!

an excuse to use this icon!

before the serum, steve was all knobby knees and pointy elbows, crooked smile and hair falling in his eyes, pink blushes, prominent collarbones and lips too full to belong to a man. he smells like paint and old newspapers, easy with a smile and quick with a witty retort.

after the serum, steve is broad shoulders and narrow waist. strong arms and thick thighs. knuckles scarred from fighting and calloused fingers, five o’clock shadow and slicked back hair. smells like gunpowder and the scent of earth after it rains. stoic and thoughtful, always offering an ear to listen or shoulder to cry on.

steve rogers has and always will be the prettiest of boy, also i’ve had zero sleep so sorry if this doesn’t make any sense.

#look!!!! at!!!! those!!! eyes!!!#Anonymous

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winelover1989 · 7 years ago

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Jon receiving a letter about Ramsey marrying Fake Arya (Jeyne Poole) literally tore my heart.

“Moat Cailin is taken. The flayed corpses of the ironmen have been nailed to posts along the kingsroad. Roose Bolton summons all leal lords to Barrowton, to affirm their loyalty to the Iron Throne and celebrate his son’s wedding to …” His heart seemed to stop for a moment. No, that is not possible. She died in King’s Landing, with Father. “Lord Snow?” Clydas peered at him closely with his dim pink eyes. “Are you … unwell? You seem …” “He’s to marry Arya Stark. My little sister.” Jon could almost see her in that moment, long-faced and gawky, all knobby knees and sharp elbows, with her dirty face and tangled hair. They would wash the one and comb the other, he did not doubt, but he could not imagine Arya in a wedding gown, nor Ramsay Bolton’s bed. No matter how afraid she is, she will not show it. If he tries to lay a hand on her, she’ll fight him. “Your sister,” Iron Emmett said, “how old is …” By now she’d be eleven, Jon thought. Still a child. “I have no sister. Only brothers. Only you.” Lady Catelyn would have rejoiced to hear those words, he knew. That did not make them easier to say. His fingers closed around the parchment. Would that they could crush Ramsay Bolton’s throat as easily.

Dark dreams, he thought, and guilt. His thoughts kept returning to Arya. There is no way I can help her. I put all kin aside when I said my words. If one of my men told me his sister was in peril, I would tell him that was no concern of his. Once a man had said the words his blood was black. Black as a bastard’s heart. He’d had Mikken make a sword for Arya once, a bravo’s blade, made small to fit her hand. Needle. He wondered if she still had it. Stick them with the pointy end, he’d told her, but if she tried to stick the Bastard, it could mean her life.

#Vin reads asoiaf #asoiaf #adwd #Arya Stark #Jon Snow #This is my fave BrOTP #Ugh I cried so hard

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thelustybraavosimaid · 3 years ago

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For me, the answer is very clear lol.

There are normal and abnormal ways to compare your sibling with your crush/love interest.

Normal:

Jojen was so solemn that Old Nan called him "little grandfather," but Meera reminded Bran of his sister Arya. She wasn't scared to get dirty, and she could run and fight and throw as good as a boy. She was older than Arya, though; almost sixteen, a woman grown. They were both older than Bran, even though his ninth name day had finally come and gone, but they never treated him like a child. (Bran IV, ACoK)

Not normal:

Also not normal:

Ygritte trotted beside Jon as he slowed his garron to a walk. She claimed to be three years older than him, though she stood half a foot shorter; however old she might be, the girl was a tough little thing. Stonesnake had called her a "spearwife" when they'd captured her in the Skirling Pass. She wasn't wed and her weapon of choice was a short curved bow of horn and weirwood, but "spearwife" fit her all the same. She reminded him a little of his sister Arya, though Arya was younger and probably skinnier. It was hard to tell how plump or thin Ygritte might be, with all the furs and skins she wore. (Jon II, ASoS)

Words that I would not associate with my sibling (mind you, I have seven of them, which I'm rather very close to):

It had been so long since he had last seen Arya. What would she look like now? Would he even know her? Arya Underfoot. Her face was always dirty. Would she still have that little sword he'd had Mikken forge for her? Stick them with the pointy end, he'd told her. Wisdom for her wedding night if half of what he heard of Ramsay Snow was true. Bring her home, Mance. I saved your son from Melisandre, and now I am about to save four thousand of your free folk. You owe me this one little girl. (Jon XI, ADwD)

"The heart is all that matters. Do not despair, Lord Snow. Despair is a weapon of the enemy, whose name may not be spoken. Your sister is not lost to you."

"I have no sister." The words were knives. What do you know of my heart, priestess? What do you know of my sister?

Melisandre seemed amused. "What is her name, this little sister that you do not have?"

"Arya." His voice was hoarse. "My half-sister, truly..."

My siblings aren't my heart, their homes are not beside me, and I don't imagine them in bed with people. Nor do I crush letters and imagine I'm strangling their "husband"/"wife" to death.

George stated in the Balticon interview/SSM that the comparisons Jon makes between Arya and Ygritte are because Arya is his reference to establish that he has a particular type. It's understandable, I suppose, since she was, largely, his most positive female influence - which is why he admires Ygritte and also Val, who he thinks of fondly after reminiscing of her almost killing a guard. It's the way he went about it that had me side-eyeing the whole thing.

Then the outline came out, detailing a tormented, passionate relationship that's only resolved when Jon's true parentage is revealed. And reading the books again, George could not be more blatant even if he wanted to. Also it is clear to me that they were still very close in the outline, too, considering that Arya has Needle in it (and the chapter that established their close relationship was written in 1991 + part of the original thirteen/one hundred+ pages that he sent to his publishers)...

It's not that she's in love with him *now* or vice versa, or even that there was some kind of weird pre-canon crush like the Jonsas think Jon had for Sansa, it's that there are plenty of little things that could possibly develop into something more when they meet again. I mean, the guy died for her and there's a line where Arya thinks the lady should kill the ones who killed her prince lol.

I'd say that the age is a hindrance, but Arya's first TWoW chapter is of her in bed with a guy, seducing him, kissing him, then killing him, so 🤷🏿‍♀️🤷🏿‍♀️ it is clear to me that George just doesn't care about that anymore.

I love Jonrya for what it is. It is unique in that it is entirely unconditional, it's complex and wholly loving, and the very thought of one another keeps them going. And it wouldn't be so out of place to me in a series where George calls Alysanne and Jaehaerys a great Targaryen love story, where he has their children Baelon and Alyssa end up together, etc.

In the hopes I don’t upset anyone/come off as judgy….can someone explain Jonrya to me???

Like…if anyone ships them, please tell me why??????????

#I'm rambling on but you know what i mean

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