#jon and sansa figuring things out

[catofoldstones]

Ok so I hadn’t read the full chapter but it has dontos with his florian and jonquil imagery and then the whole Sandor projecting his cowardice on Sansa, Sansa flowering in the middle of a war and being so terrified that she burns her fucking mattress and then the last line of the chapter is Cersei’s love is poison SKIP TO NEXT CHAPTER WHICH IS JON

HELLO?!!!

LIKE I AM SCREAMING

Jon just had a chapter before Sansa and now he’s back here again, almost as if he’s embracing her, blanketing her from harm.

Sansa having a chapter straight after the Jon’s where he meets Ygritte is something that can be so personal to me

[jackoshadows]

It's funny that the same folks who make up nonsense about 'blood supremacy' and 'eugenics' to hate on the Targaryens are obsessed, like really, really obsessed with Sansa calling herself 'the blood of Winterfell' and use that as the reason for their favorite Jonsa crackship and for why Sansa will rule the North.

Having a certain 'blood' is apparently very important for shipping reasons and for why one feudal queen should rule over the peasants and serfs. But it's also Aryan ideology and 'blood supremacy' if other characters uphold their house in the same way.

It's funny that they bring real world ethics into this fictional fantasy world to argue blood supremacy to hate on certain characters and houses while all the time justifying in world Westerosi child abuse, classism, sexism, bullying and ableism as being right because it's the done thing.

In a fantasy world where certain groups of people do have magical powers based on who they are and their bloodline - Targaryens having prophetic dreams and Starks having warging powers - it's funny they are trying to argue that a girl fighting against slavery is the real evil because of her house and her blood and she has to die in violent and painful ways since in her case eugenics and blood purity applies and ALL TARGARYENS MUST BE EXTERMINATED. Except for Jon Snow who weirdly escapes the evilness despite having Targaryen blood because he has the SUPER GOOD SPECIALEST STARK BLOOD that dilutes the evil Targaryen blood. also he's THE BLOOD OF WINTERFELL!.

Here's the deal:

Arya being the only Stark child to have the Stark look IS IMPORTANT TO HER STORY, plays a part in her narrative and foreshadows her future arc.

[I love how stans get triggered when this is brought up in terms of Arya's character and her importance but use it generously to prop up their shitty crackship. Oh, Sansa imagines one of her kids would look like Arya? This means she has children with Jon ❤️❤️❤️]

The Direwolves are important. They are gifts from the Old Gods. Nymeria being a leader of a huge wolf pack is important.

You know, I don’t like to give things away.“ says Martin, a grin spreading across his face. ”But you don’t hang a giant wolf pack on the wall unless you intend to use it.“ - GRRM

“You have five trueborn children,” Jon said. “Three sons, two daughters. The direwolf is the sigil of your House. Your children were meant to have these pups, my lord.”   - Bran, AGoT

Magical powers linked to blood are important in the fictional fantasy world of The Song of Ice and Fire. Especially when they are facing an otherworldy magical existential, apocalyptic threat from beyond the Wall. They need dragons, direwolves, prophetic dreams and magical swords to save the entire realm!

Bran, Arya, Rickon and Jon Snow being wargs who are having wolf dreams and communicating with each other through their direwolves is important.

Arya being her father's child in every way that matters IS IMPORTANT TO HER STORY. Her father literally talks to her through weirwoods and gives her strength and courage. She has learned from him on what it takes to administer Winterfell. These are necessary character building subplots for characters to ultimately end up in leading positions.

Arya being her mother's child and proactively taking charge, being a leader and getting things done in terms of surviving in a man's world is ALSO IMPORTANT TO HER STORY.

Arya has a connection to the North through her father - the North is literally rising up in ADwD to save Ned's precious, valiant little girl - and has a connection to the Riverlands and her mother - the brotherhood without banners.

Characters having certain features because they belong to a house is an important and running theme in the books. It's not just house Targaryen. The Lannisters have a certain look - hence why Ned figures out who Joffrey's father is. The Starks have a certain look - this plays into Catelyn's hatred for Jon because he looks more Stark than Robb which is important in terms of being the future heir considering ALL the Starks who have ruled the North thus far have the Stark look. Hell, the Baratheons having a certain look is what leads Ned Stark to crack the secret of Lannister incest - 'The seed is strong'. Applying real world genetics and biology to a fantasy world is idiotic.

Jon Snow looking like a Stark is important in terms of his secret mystery parentage and who his mother is. His special bond with Arya gains significance considering she looks like Lyanna and that is Jon's mother. Lyanna having the Stark look is important. Sansa looking like Catelyn is the major component of her relationship with Petyr Baelish spanning over 5 books.

GRRM is not randomly writing characters looking a certain way for shits and giggles. These are important, narrative and foreshadowing plot points.

[jellyfishsthings]

WARNINGS: reader is a Velaryon with some Targaryen features but not an OC, this is just some story building there will be other parts. I just finished the books and I am obsessed with GOT wither way I was bored and this is the result so beware ... I think that's it. Also Theon is a pookie in this fic because I said so

PAIRING: fem!reader x Robb Stark (romantically), fem!reader x Jon Snow (platonically), fem!reader x Theon Greyjoy (platonically)

part 2 , part 3

The cold wind still raged on, hitting the walls of Winterfell. Her room was one on the lower floors next to Jon's and Theon's rooms. The sunrays gently fell on her sleeping figure dragging her from her deep slumber. The fireplace was filled with ashes and the chill in her bones was reasonable. It might still be summer on the North, yet the occasional snow always drifted down from the dark grey clouds. A discreet knock pulled her out of her thoughts and Theon's irritated voice filled the room.

"If you are not in the courtyard in two minutes, I am ratting you out"

Like clock work the same words sounded the moment dawn greeted the North. It was a small routine they had formed two namedays ago. She covered herself in Robb's old furs, the ones he secretly gave to her and claimed he lost them. They had kept her warm for over six moon cycles, they had holes in several places and the edges were coming apart but it was her most prized possession. At first it smelled at him and she was always trying to bask in his scent, that was until Theon caught her smelling the neckline while wearing it and she wouldn't hear the end of it until she openly caught him staring longingly at Sansa.

Unfortunately, they were both in the same position, they wanted people they could never have, and only each other knew. They would drink together glasses of wine and they would stumble giggling around the castle. One time he had drunk so much that he composed atrocious poetry about the beauty of his lady Sansa and her copper hair and then about the Northern prince that fell in love with a girl that had mud brown hair adorned with streaks of silver grey and deep violet eyes that appeared dark blue in the right light. She knew that her appearance betrayed her ancestry the Targaryen blood that flowed in her Velaryon veins.

Her family had been brutally murdered, she had heard and read the tales of how her mother gave her life to protect her dark-haired girl and the bloody necklace that hugged her fathers throat. At the tender age of seven moon cycles her whole family had perished and she had been the only survivor. Ned Stark had found her in a bundle of fabrics crying her heart out and once he saw the sword that could have taken her head, he swore to protect her and take her in as his ward. She should have been grateful, she knew as much, he had given her everything, a warm house, plenty food, clothes and a loving family one she wasn't actually a part of and maybe that was the reason she was closer with Theon and Jon, the outsiders. It wasn't like she didn't like the Starks, she loved them to bits and yet she could never be one of them. She would be the squire under their Maesters care with her nose hidden in ancient books and scrolls, lost in maps and various languages and basic training as a healer. But her new passion was sword fighting. As a woman she had only been allowed to practice archery that she was quite good at and always betted with the boys around their performance.

And that was how Theon found himself at incredibly early hours with a wooden sword in his hand, frowning at drawings of fighting styles freezing his "balls" off. She had bested him at the fine art of combat at practically her fifth lesson in a few hits. She had a strategic mind and she was quick on her feet, the most perfect and most deadly combination that existed.

He pitted the man that would take her as his wife, because most men were incredibly controlling but there was no chance, she wouldn't get things her way. He was proof enough.

She had the three of them wrapped around her little finger from all those years back. She had grown up with them from when she was a babe, but at her seventh nameday her and the Maester left, since she was his squire, she had to follow him, he had taken her under his wing, she had practically been his daughter, the one he never had. At that day and several later they had cried so much that even Lady Stark was regretting her decision, she liked the girl enough, she had the tendency to wreak havoc and get lost in her books a bit too much, neglecting her chores and her lessons at needlepoint half the time, but she made her kids happy and she was too smart and witty for her own good that it was impossible not to have a sweet spot for the orphaned girl. She had been overjoyed when she learned about her return nine namedays afterwards. Her son, her calm and collected Robb was shuffling at his feet, nudging rocks around and toying with the hem of his cloak, the bastard and the Greyjoy ward were portraying similar behaviors and she had to control herself not to laugh at their antics.

Ned had pushed his son forth, claiming that it was around time he greeted their guests, he shot him a glare and his parented watched him as he wiped down his palms at his breeches and headed towards the carriage, his hand shook as he lightly grazed the handle and pulled the door open while staring into place, not ready to accept that his best friend might have changed. He was frozen in his place as a girl wearing a dark blue dress and heeled leather boots stood before him. She tilted her head to the right and only then did he notice her hair.

A knot at the back of her head that was a swirl of chocolate brown and silver white strands that framed her face beautifully. Her violet eyes hid a familiar mischief that he had dearly missed. She nodded at him, before facing his father and dropping into an elegant curtesy. It was as if he was on a trance, unable to tear his eyes from her form. It wasn't until he heard her voice, she was speaking in a language he didn't understand, yet he could recognize the bite on her tone. His father wore an amused smile as he answered her back. He would learn at the evening feast what had caused such reactions, the news almost swept him from his feet, his whole existence reduced to one word. Betrothed. Ever since then it was like they were walking on eggshells around her. All three of them longed for their missing link.

It wasn't until a few days latter when they invited her on a hunt that they could glimpse on what they were. They had found a boar and his in bushes only to lose their horses in the process. They had been walking for hours and all it took was an ill-fated joke from Jon.

"No. I do not love you. Of course I lied to you. Yes, it does make you look fat. No, I have never been in the Riverlands. It is pronounced Eyrie. And all of this pales to utter insignificance if we are to let ourselves be food for the hounds."

They had all been tired and snappy, making comments left and right and picking fun at her the way they used to. They had been waiting quite impatiently for her to snap back and the moment she did, loud laughter echoed in the woods. And just like that everything was back to the way it used to be.

Ever since then life seemed dreamy to Robb, he had his friends and his family all getting along and everything seemed perfect. But reality hit him hard each night knowing that the girl he fostered feelings for was promised to another.

[kitnjon]

I will be forever glad I was a Jonsa in 2019. The fics were truly the best thing to come out of season 8.

Do you have a season 8 fic recommendations??

Yeah those fics really helped us after the trauma d&d put us through right? I started reading jonsa fics around the same time to get over S8 ending. I had read a lot of S8 fix it fics back then but didnt have ao3 account so unfortunately I don't have many of them bookmarked :( Sharing a few I can recall reading and was able to find.

they tumble down by thimbleful

He meets her gaze for the shortest moment before turning to look out over the woods, gesturing at it with a gloved hand. “Is this why you brought me here? To talk about memories?” “No. I wanted to talk about marriage.” When Sansa suggests it's time for her and Jon to marry, she means they should make marriage alliances with the other Northern houses. Jon, though, assumes she means they should marry each other. A post s7 story where Jon and Sansa struggle to navigate their new political landscape while suppressing their feelings for one another, Arya does everything in her power to protect her pack, and Bran and Sam try to figure out how to kill the Night King.

2. intentions of gold (with my plans) by @jonsaslove

this is a series of one shots that follow a loose season 8 au. each episode has a fic and it works under the premise that Jon and Sansa orchestrated political!jon back in season 7 and planned to have him manipulate Daenerys into coming north.

3. victory is in my veins (oh ye of so little faith) by Lady_Alice

“Jon,” Sansa says quietly, her hands twisting together in front of her. “Tell me the truth. Do you love her?” He starts, eyes widening. “Love her?” That’s all the confirmation she needs, but Jon rushes onward, stepping closer to her, hands outstretched and voice nervous, reassuring, as if he were a husband swearing to his wife that he loves only her. “Sansa, no, no, gods, after this, I hope I never have to see her again.” // The Season 8 we deserved. (and that the characters deserved) (yeah i'll die mad about s8, sue me)

4. and no net ensnares me by thimbleful

Since Jon left, Sansa has struggled to keep things together and she longs for his return. However, when he does return things only become worse. Jon learns about his parentage and doesn't know how to make sense of anything, how to fix the inevitable mess the reveal will create, or how to protect the people he loves. But at least, after all these years, the pack is finally back together. Then, one day, Sansa disappears. Post season 7 fic.

5. such simple words (such a complicated truth) by thimbleful

"You don’t have the right name to make men rally behind you, you don’t have any armies nor land or a castle or--” “No, but I do.” Sansa drops her necklace and Jon shifts in his seat to get away from the twisting sensation in his stomach. He knows where this is going: his depraved dreams come true under the worst possible circumstances. Jon and Sansa get married and consummate that marriage. That's it. That's the fic.

6. what do you want (that you do not have) by thimbleful

When the Winterfellians learn that Cersei has hired men to kidnap Sansa, they decide that Sansa needs to run away and Jon volunteers to protect her. During their travels the tension builds between them--especially after Jon suffers an injury and they're taken in by an older couple. Because, in hopes of protecting their identities, Jon and Sansa have to pretend to be happily married and in love. Every day. In close quarters. For quite some time. Takes place after the war against the NK is won. Not a kidnapping fic.

7. soldier, go bravely on by @missfaber

King's Landing is ash. The game is revealed. Jon Snow faces the consequences of his choices. Daenerys Targaryen seeks subservience from all. Sansa Stark will not go quietly. Westeros hangs in the balance. + an alternate ending for Game of Thrones. 8.x06 fix-it fic

8. we are buried in broken dreams by @writerbri-archive

Prompt: Sansa and Jon sleeping together before he goes to Dragonstone and when he comes back he finds out she is pregnant. A full on s8 fix-it fic at this point.

9. A Time for Wolves by missgreeneinthlibrary

Winter was coming. Now it's here. Season 8 reimagined with a Jonsa twist.

[sunderwight]

SV Game of Thrones AU where Shen Yuan transmigrates into a character who is basically Joffrey Lannister.

Luo Binghe is a mix of all the Stark kids, but mostly Sansa Stark and Jon Snow. Su Xiyan and Tianlang Jun had a Rhaegar-and-Lyanna thing going on, and Binghe's adopted mother was Su Xiyan's older cousin, who took him in after the fact and had him legitimized because she was the only remaining heir and had no other kids.

In the original story, King Shen Qingqiu (Jiu) develops a suspicion about Luo Binghe's heritage and, being just as paranoid about Heavenly Demons as Robert Baratheon was about Targaryens, invites the Luo family to come to court. Ostensibly so that Binghe can be playmates with the king's son and heir (Shen Yuan). Binghe's mom is horribly worried that they've been found out, but has not choice but to accept the invitation.

Of course, OG Prince Shen Yuan was a rotten little sadist who made it his life's mission to torment Luo Binghe, was eventually revealed to be the bastard spawn of Queen Qiu Haitang and her own brother, executed Binghe's mom for alleged treason, is party to the slaughter of the noble Liu family, and is eventually gruesomely assassinated at his own wedding feast.

Shen Yuan himself doesn't want to torment Binghe, or slaughter anyone, start any wars, or of course be gruesomely assassinated at his own wedding feast. He would much rather live his cushy life as a crown prince, figure out how to administrate a kingdom properly and also implement some better waste management practices to reduce the awful city stench (like, Shen Yuan was never terribly interested in plumbing in his first life but he is absolutely invested in the subject now.)

The problem is that the System absolutely demands that there be a war and certain other plot points in order to propel Luo Binghe into some sort of narrative destiny. Shen Yuan's not sure why because the last time he checked, the book series was stalled with Luo Binghe seemingly dead, and the television series had basically rendered everything he'd done pointless by the end, but regardless the System won't just let him peacefully evade all the drama and spare Luo Binghe all the suffering.

Boo.

Plus there's the concerning matter of the Northern Demon King awakening and mustering armies to conquer the south (and getting derailed by the beleaguered quartermaster of the Nightswatch, who keeps wondering when the fuck the actual protagonist is going to show up to handle the increasingly concerning plot points, because Binghe should have been exiled by now...?), Zhuzhi Lang resurrecting his uncle (as a dragon?!) across the Narrow Sea, and the Qiu family plotting the murder of the king and a coup to seize power...

(Also featuring: Yue Qingyuan as the parts of Jaime Lannister's character not currently owned by Qiu Jianluo, the Huan Hua Palace Master as a Littlefinger proxy, Meng Mo as Bloodraven, and many more!)

[novaursa]

Legacy (friends at heart)

- Summary: Tywin was the man who saved you from Robert's wrath. He was also the man who doomed you.

- Pairing: targ!reader/Tywin Lannister

- Note: Be aware of unspecified time-jump.

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Previous part: the others

- Next part: what burns

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @oxymakestheworldgoround @luniaxi @alkadri-layal @butterflygxril @urdxrling

Jon Snow sat at the head of the table, his grey eyes scanning the faces of his siblings. Sansa, regal yet weary, sat to his right, her hands clasped in her lap as she gazed pensively into the fire. Arya, ever restless, leaned back in her chair, idly twirling the point of a knife against the table’s surface. Bran, seated at the far end, looked calm but distant, his eyes fixed somewhere beyond the room, as if seeing things none of them could.

The weight of their discussion pressed heavily on all of them.

“How did they get through the Wall?” Arya asked, her tone filled with disbelief. “The Wall has stood for thousands of years. It was supposed to be impenetrable.”

Jon exhaled, his jaw tightening as he looked toward Bran. “That’s what we’re trying to figure out.”

Bran, sitting unnervingly still, finally spoke. His voice was soft but carried an unsettling certainty. “The Wall was not built to last forever. The magic that held it is ancient and fragile. Something… someone… broke it.”

Sansa frowned, her brows furrowing. “If the Wall has fallen, then we’re truly out of time. Winter is here in full force, and now the dead march freely.”

There was a heavy pause, the crackle of the fire the only sound in the room.

“I wish Mother and Father were here,” Sansa said softly, her voice breaking the silence. “I wish they could see us together like this. They would have known what to do.”

Jon’s expression softened at her words, his dark eyes filled with unspoken emotion. “They would have,” he agreed quietly. “And so would she.”

Arya glanced at Jon, catching the shift in his tone. “Y/N,” she said, her voice tinged with curiosity. “How is she? You’re the one who saw her last.”

Jon hesitated for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts. “She’s... the same as she always was,” he said finally. “Strong. Fierce. But…” His voice trailed off as he looked into the fire, his expression clouded. “There was something heavier about her. It’s been years since she’s been here, and I think she carries that weight with her.”

Arya’s gaze softened as she set the knife down, her fingers brushing against the table’s edge. “The last time I saw her was at High Heart,” she said, a faint smile playing at her lips. “She arrived on the back of a dragon.”

Sansa glanced toward Arya, her own expression softening. “I last saw her at Joffrey’s wedding,” she murmured, her voice heavy with memory. “She tried to keep me close, but there was nothing she could do. It wasn’t safe.”

Jon looked between them, the faintest trace of a smile tugging at his lips. “She never stopped trying to protect us.”

Arya’s voice was quieter now, her gaze fixed on Jon. “Do you think she’s happy? With her new family?”

Jon nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful. “She has two sons now. Damon and Maelor. She loves them fiercely.”

At the mention of Damon and Maelor, Sansa’s expression warmed. “She always wanted a family of her own. She deserves that.”

There was a pause before Arya leaned forward slightly, her eyes narrowing. “Do you think she ever misses us?”

Jon’s lips pressed into a thin line as he considered the question. “She does,” he said finally. “I know she does.”

The room fell silent again, the weight of their shared history hanging in the air. Bran, who had been quiet for most of the conversation, finally spoke, his voice calm but certain.

“You’ll see her again, Jon,” Bran said, his gaze fixed on his brother. “One more time.”

Jon turned toward Bran, his expression unreadable. “What do you mean?”

Bran’s gaze seemed to pierce through him. “You’ll see her again before the end.”

The cryptic nature of Bran’s words left the room feeling colder, the fire’s warmth doing little to chase away the chill that had settled over them. Jon held Bran’s gaze for a long moment before finally looking away, his thoughts his own.

Sansa sighed softly, her voice breaking the tension. “We should rest. There’s much to do tomorrow.”

Jon nodded, his jaw tightening as he rose from his seat. “You’re right. But this isn’t over. We’ll figure this out.”

As the others began to leave the hall, Jon lingered for a moment, his gaze fixed on the fire. The memory of the woman who had raised him, the woman who had been his mother in every way that mattered, weighed heavily on his heart. No matter what came next, he knew Bran’s words would linger with him.

“One more time,” he murmured to himself, the flames casting shadows across his face.

The night was blacker than pitch, with no moonlight to pierce the endless winter darkness. A brittle wind swept through the craggy terrain surrounding Casterly Rock, howling through the narrow passes and scattering dry snow across the frozen ground. Beric Dondarrion dismounted his weary horse, his breath visible in the icy air as he surveyed their makeshift camp.

“Here,” he said gruffly, his one remaining eye scanning the area. “It’ll do for tonight.”

The others in his small company, five in total, nodded silently, their movements stiff from days of hard travel through the frostbitten landscape. Thoros of Myr dismounted as well, his red robes standing out starkly against the snow. He adjusted the sword strapped to his waist, his usually jovial demeanor replaced by a grim focus.

“The cold gets into your bones,” Thoros muttered, rubbing his hands together before pulling a flask of firewine from his belt. “A drink might keep us warm, eh?”

Beric shot him a look. “Save it. We’ll need your wits about you if anything finds us out here.”

Thoros smirked faintly, his weathered face lined with exhaustion. “What could be worse than what we’ve already seen?”

“Plenty,” Beric replied darkly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

One of the other men, a young scout with a face partially obscured by a scarf, began gathering sticks from the sparse brush nearby. “Should we light a fire?” he asked hesitantly, his voice muffled.

Thoros glanced at Beric, who frowned but nodded. “A small one. We’ll need it if we’re to keep from freezing.”

As the scout worked to kindle a flame, Beric crouched low, examining the map he had spread out on a rock. The flickering light of the fire illuminated his face, highlighting the scarred flesh and the tired determination in his lone eye.

“How much farther?” asked Lem Lemoncloak, his gruff voice cutting through the quiet as he tightened his cloak around himself.

“Half a day’s ride, maybe less,” Beric replied, tracing his finger across the map. “Casterly Rock isn’t far, but the roads are treacherous.”

Thoros crouched beside him, taking a swig from his flask before offering it to Beric, who shook his head. “Do you think they’ll even let us through the gates?” Thoros asked, his tone skeptical. “Lannisters aren’t exactly known for welcoming the likes of us.”

“They’ll let us through,” Beric said firmly. “Lady Y/N will see to it.”

Lem scoffed, leaning against a tree. “And you’re so sure she’ll even remember us? It’s been years since High Heart. She’s a Lannister now more than a Targaryen—married still to the man who all but destroyed her family.”

Beric’s gaze hardened. “She hasn’t forgotten what she saw. None of us have.”

There was a moment of silence, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. The memory of the visions Y/N had witnessed at High Heart—the endless night, the armies of the dead, the dragons circling above—was seared into their minds. They had followed her then, believing she was key to what was coming. Now, they sought her out again, hoping to lend their swords to the fight they knew was inevitable.

The fire crackled softly as Thoros leaned back, staring into the flames. “That dragon is with her,” he mused. “And not just any dragon—a dragon clad in Lannister armor, if the rumors are true. Do you think she’s changed?”

Beric’s expression was unreadable as he replied, “She’s changed because the world has changed. But she hasn’t forgotten who she is.”

“And what about her husband?” Lem asked, spitting into the snow. “Tywin Lannister doesn’t strike me as the kind of man to entertain a band of outlaws.”

“He doesn’t have to entertain us,” Beric said evenly. “We’re not going for him.”

The wind picked up again, sending a chill through the camp. The men huddled closer to the fire, their faces shadowed and tired. For a moment, the only sound was the crackling of the flames and the distant howl of the wind.

“You think she’ll even let us fight?” Thoros asked quietly, his voice almost lost to the wind. “She has a dragon. What could we possibly offer?”

Beric turned his gaze toward the horizon, where the faint outline of Casterly Rock loomed in the distance. His voice was steady as he replied, “Faith. Resolve. A sword is only as strong as the hand that wields it. She’ll need us—just as much as we need her.”

Thoros nodded, though his expression remained thoughtful. “Let’s hope you’re right.”

As the fire burned low and the men settled in for the night, the darkness pressed in around them, bringing with it an unsettling quiet. Beric sat with his back against a tree, his sword resting across his knees, as he stared out into the shadows. Somewhere in the distance, a low, guttural sound echoed—a reminder that the night was far from safe.

He didn’t wake the others. Whatever was out there, it wasn’t coming for them yet. But the unease lingered, a constant reminder of the world they now lived in.

The night passed slowly, the fire burning down to embers as the men kept watch in turns. Morning was little more than a pale night light barely breaking through the heavy clouds, but it was enough to get them moving again.

As they mounted their horses and set out toward Casterly Rock, the wind carried with it the faintest scent of smoke—an omen, Beric thought grimly, of the battles yet to come.

The warm glow of the hearth cast flickering shadows across the grand dining hall of Casterly Rock, making the dark stone walls seem almost alive. The long oak table was set with an array of dishes—roasted meats, fresh bread, and steaming bowls of hearty stew, a rare luxury in the enduring winter. The room was quiet save for the gentle clatter of cutlery and the occasional laugh from your children.

Damon sat to Tywin’s left, his small hands gripping a spoon as he eagerly dug into his stew. Maelor was seated to your right, his little legs swinging beneath the table as he munched on a piece of bread. You sat across from Tywin, your gaze shifting between your sons and your husband, a soft smile tugging at your lips.

“Slow down, Damon,” you said gently, watching as your eldest son wolfed down his food. “You’ll make yourself sick.”

Damon paused, looking up sheepishly with a smear of stew on his chin. “I’m just hungry, Mother.”

Tywin, seated at the head of the table, raised an eyebrow, his tone stern but not unkind. “Your mother is right. Eat properly, Damon. A future lord must have composure, even at the table.”

Damon straightened in his chair, nodding solemnly as he picked up his spoon with a bit more care. “Yes, Father.”

You hid your amusement behind your goblet of wine, exchanging a knowing glance with Tywin. Despite his strict demeanor, there was a warmth in Tywin’s eyes as he observed his family.

Maelor, meanwhile, was busy tearing his bread into small pieces and dipping them into his stew. “Mother,” he piped up, his voice bright, “when can I ride Viserion?”

You chuckled softly, leaning over to brush a strand of Maelor’s hair from his face. “When you’re older, my sweet. Dragons are not toys.”

Damon, ever curious, chimed in. “But Father rode Viserion, didn’t he? You told me.”

Tywin glanced at you, the faintest twitch of a smile on his lips. “I didn’t ride her. I simply climbed on her back to avoid being eaten by those creatures in the dark.”

Damon’s eyes widened. “That sounds brave.”

Tywin’s gaze softened ever so slightly. “It was necessary, not brave.”

You reached for your goblet again, your eyes glimmering with fondness as you looked at Tywin. “Your father is underselling himself,” you teased lightly. “He’s braver than he admits.”

Tywin gave you a look that was both exasperated and amused, and for a moment, the weight of winter and responsibility seemed to lift from the room.

The conversation turned to lighter topics—Maelor’s eagerness to ride horses, Damon’s growing interest in history, and stories of your youth. Laughter filled the hall, warming the cold air like a fleeting glimpse of summer.

But the warmth was interrupted when the heavy doors to the hall creaked open. A pair of Lannister guards entered, their expressions grim as they approached the table.

“My lord, my lady,” one of the guards said, bowing deeply. “Apologies for the intrusion, but a group of men has arrived at the gates. They claim they’ve come to offer their services to Lady Y/N.”

Your brows furrowed, and you exchanged a glance with Tywin, whose expression darkened slightly. He set his goblet down with deliberate care. “Who are these men?”

“They didn’t give names,” the guard replied. “Only that they’ve traveled far and wish to speak with Lady Y/N directly.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line, your mind racing. “How many are there?”

“Five or six, my lady. They seem... weathered. Warriors, perhaps.”

Tywin’s gaze turned to you, his tone firm. “We’ll see them together. I’ll not have strangers wandering into my home without scrutiny.”

You nodded, your expression thoughtful. “Of course.”

Before rising, you turned to your sons, your voice softening. “Damon, Maelor, stay here with the servants. Finish your dinner.”

Damon’s brows knit together in concern. “Are you going to see those men, Mother? Are they dangerous?”

You smiled reassuringly, leaning over to press a kiss to Damon’s forehead. “No, my darling. Stay here with your brother. We’ll be back shortly.”

Tywin stood, his presence commanding as he adjusted his cloak. You rose beside him, brushing your fingers over Maelor’s hair as you passed. “Eat your stew,” you told him gently. “We won’t be long.”

As the guards led you out of the hall, the laughter and warmth of the meal seemed to fade, replaced by the chill of winter seeping through the castle walls. Your mind buzzed with questions as you made your way toward the gates. Whoever these men were, they had chosen a perilous time to make their journey.

And as always, Tywin’s keen gaze missed nothing. “You have an idea of who they might be,” he said quietly, his voice low enough for only you to hear.

You glanced at him, your expression unreadable. “Perhaps,” you murmured. “But we’ll know soon enough.”

You stepped into the cold night air, the stars barely visible through the dense clouds, as you prepared to meet the unexpected visitors.

The chill of winter clung to the courtyard of Casterly Rock, the snow crunching beneath boots as Tywin and you stepped into the open space. Torches lit the area, casting low light on a group of riders standing with their horses near the gate. The wind carried the faint scent of frost and the sea, the air biting against exposed skin.

Your gaze immediately locked onto the group of men, their weathered faces illuminated by the torchlight. There was something familiar about them—the way they stood, the way their eyes scanned the courtyard with quiet vigilance.

And then your breath hitched as recognition struck. Beric Dondarrion stood at the forefront, his one-eyed gaze fixed on you, his battered armor bearing the marks of countless battles. Beside him, Thoros of Myr held the reins of his horse, his red priest’s robes looking as worn as the man himself. Others stood behind them, cloaked figures with hardened expressions and the quiet confidence of those who had seen too much of war.

“Beric,” you breathed, stepping forward before you could think better of it.

Beric inclined his head, his voice gravelly but warm. “Lady Y/N.” He glanced at Tywin, then back at you, a faint smile playing on his lips. “It’s been some time.”

Tywin’s gaze darted to you, and his tone was cool as he spoke. “You know these men?”

You nodded, your voice steady despite the flood of memories. “Yes. These are the men I rode with in the Riverlands. When I was… missing, all those years ago.”

Tywin’s lips pressed into a thin line, his expression unreadable, though you caught the faintest flicker of something—irritation, perhaps jealousy—in his eyes. “You never mentioned any men,” he muttered, his tone low but unmistakably pointed.

You glanced at him, your brow arching slightly. “There wasn’t much time to recount every detail, Tywin,” you said evenly. “But yes, I owe my life to them. They sheltered me after wounds from riding Viserion started to get worse.”

Beric stepped closer, his gaze flicking between you and Tywin. “We came to offer our aid, my lady. The Long Night is here, and we remember what you told us at the High Heart. What we saw.” He glanced at Thoros, who nodded solemnly. “We believe it’s time to fulfill that promise.”

Tywin’s expression remained impassive, though his eyes betrayed his calculating mind. “And what promise would that be?”

Thoros of Myr spoke this time, his voice deep and steady. “To stand against the darkness, Lord Lannister. To fight for the living.”

Tywin’s gaze sharpened. “A noble sentiment, but not one I take at face value. You come uninvited to my gates in the dead of winter, claiming allegiance to my wife. What exactly are you offering, and what do you expect in return?”

You placed a gentle hand on Tywin’s arm, your voice softening as you spoke. “They’re here to help, Tywin. They’re not our enemies.”

His gaze flicked to your hand, then back to Beric, his jaw tightening slightly. “Help,” he repeated, the word laced with skepticism. “And how do a handful of men plan to help against creatures we’ve barely managed to hold at bay?”

Beric’s one good eye met Tywin’s unwaveringly. “We’ve faced them before, my lord. And we’ve lived to tell the tale. You may find we’re more useful than you think.”

There was a tense silence as Tywin considered Beric’s words, his mind weighing every possibility. Finally, he inclined his head, though his tone remained cold. “We’ll discuss this further inside. For now, you and your men will be fed and given quarters. I trust you’ll behave accordingly.”

Beric nodded. “We’ll not give you reason to regret it.”

Tywin turned on his heel, his cloak billowing behind him as he began walking back toward the castle. You lingered for a moment, your gaze meeting Beric’s. “Thank you,” you said quietly. “For coming.”

Beric offered a faint smile. “It’s the least we could do, my lady.”

You gave a small nod before following Tywin, who was already a few paces ahead. His silence was heavy as you walked, and you could feel the unease radiating from him.

When you reached the castle’s inner halls, Tywin finally spoke, his tone clipped. “I don’t trust them.”

You sighed, glancing at him. “I understand. But they’ve earned my trust, Tywin. They’re good men.”

His gaze flicked to you, his expression unreadable. “Good men or not, they’re an unknown variable. And I don’t like surprises.”

You reached out, placing a hand on his arm to stop him. “I wouldn’t have survived without them. They helped me when I was lost, when I was vulnerable. That has to mean something.”

Tywin’s eyes softened slightly, though his jaw remained set. “I don’t doubt their past actions, but their presence here complicates things. We’ll see if they’re as honorable as you believe.”

You gave him a faint smile, your hand lingering on his arm. “Thank you for allowing them to stay.”

His gaze held yours for a moment before he nodded curtly. “Don’t thank me yet. This isn’t a courtesy—it’s a test.”

You couldn’t help but smile despite his tone, knowing that beneath his guarded exterior, Tywin’s decision to allow Beric and his men to stay was, in its own way, a gesture of trust in you.

The soft glow of the torches lit the chamber where Tywin Lannister sat at the head of a long table. The room was quieter now, with the bustling noise of Beric’s men settling into their quarters fading into the background. The air was warm, unusually so for the middle of the relentless winter. Across from Tywin sat Beric Dondarrion and Thoros of Myr, their rugged appearances stark against the polished surroundings of Casterly Rock.

Tywin’s gaze was sharp, his presence as commanding as ever, as he leaned forward slightly, clasping his hands on the table. “Your men have been given food and shelter, but I expect discipline. My castle does not tolerate disruptions.”

Beric inclined his head, his expression neutral but respectful. “You have my word, Lord Lannister. My men understand where they are and the gravity of the times.”

Thoros took a swig from a flask he’d kept at his side, his eyes scanning the room. “You’ve got a strange warmth here, my lord,” he remarked, his deep voice tinged with curiosity. “Unusual for such a winter.”

Tywin’s expression didn’t change, but his tone carried a measured edge. “It’s not unusual when you understand the cause. There are two dragons sleeping beneath this castle, warming the Rock with their presence.”

The room fell silent, the weight of Tywin’s statement hanging in the air. Thoros set his flask down, his brow furrowing. “Two?” he repeated, his tone quieter now, almost reverent.

Beric leaned back slightly, his one good eye studying Tywin closely. “So it’s true, then. Not one, but two dragons sleep beneath your home.”

Tywin met Beric’s gaze, his voice steady. “You’ve heard correctly. The larger of the two is Viserion, my wife’s dragon. The smaller one hatched inside Dragonmont years ago from one of Viserion’s eggs.”

Beric’s lips pressed into a thin line as he exchanged a glance with Thoros. “And the second dragon—has it bonded with anyone?”

Tywin’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Not yet. It’s young, temperamental, and untested. But it remains here, under my control.”

Thoros chuckled softly, though there was no humor in his voice. “Control is a fragile thing, especially when it comes to dragons. They answer to no one unless they choose.”

Tywin’s gaze sharpened. “You misunderstand. I don’t need to command it. Its presence alone is enough to deter threats. Dragons are weapons, and I wield them as I would any other.”

Beric leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on the table. “Weapons they may be, but they’re also fire made flesh. They’re alive, with wills of their own. Do you believe you can truly keep them beneath the Rock forever?”

Tywin’s jaw tightened, though his expression remained impassive. “The dragons are not your concern, Dondarrion. They serve my purposes, nothing more.”

The anxity in the room grew thick as Beric studied Tywin carefully, his gaze unwavering. “I don’t mean to question your methods, my lord. But the fire beneath your castle is a reminder of what’s at stake. If the Long Night has taught us anything, it’s that we cannot take such power for granted.”

Tywin leaned back slightly, his cold green eyes never leaving Beric’s face. “I don’t take anything for granted. That’s why I’m still here, holding this castle, while others crumble.”

Thoros chuckled again, this time with a hint of warmth. “And yet, it’s the dragons that make this place a haven in the dark. The warmth, the life—it’s not entirely your doing, Lord Lannister.”

Tywin’s lips twitched into something resembling a smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Perhaps not. But I know how to use the tools at my disposal. That’s the difference between survival and ruin.”

The room grew quiet again, the crackle of the torches the only sound as Beric considered Tywin’s words. Finally, he nodded slowly. “You’ve prepared well, Lord Lannister. But preparation only takes us so far. When the true storm comes, we’ll see if even dragons are enough.”

Tywin’s expression hardened, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. “Dragons are enough, as long as they’re wielded wisely. And here, they are.”

Thoros picked up his flask again, tipping it toward Tywin in a mock toast. “Then let’s hope your wisdom holds, my lord. The Long Night is not kind to those who falter.”

Beric rose from his seat, inclining his head toward Tywin. “Thank you for your hospitality, Lord Lannister. We’ll do what we can to aid you in the days ahead.”

Tywin stood as well, his gaze cool and assessing. “See that you do. You’ve been given a chance to prove your worth. Don’t waste it.”

As Beric and Thoros left the chamber, the weight of their words lingered in the air. Tywin remained standing, his mind already working through the implications of their conversation. The warmth of the dragons beneath the Rock was a source of power, but it was also a reminder of the unpredictable forces at play in the world—a world growing darker with each passing day.

The cold, dark void of the endless winter stretched across Damon’s dreamscape like a suffocating shroud. Snow blanketed the ground, heavy and unyielding, as he wandered through an unfamiliar forest. The towering trees loomed above him, their skeletal branches twisting into grotesque shapes against the starless sky. The air was heavy, thick with an unnatural stillness that pressed against his small frame.

Damon's breath came in shallow gasps, his feet sinking into the snow with each hesitant step. His heart pounded in his chest, the only sound in the oppressive silence. Somewhere in the distance, faint whispers danced on the icy wind. They were unintelligible but sinister, wrapping around him like tendrils of shadow.

“Mother?” Damon called out, his voice trembling. “Father?”

No answer came, only the rising chill that gnawed at his skin. The whispers grew louder, now resembling mocking laughter. Fear rooted him in place as a shadowy figure emerged from the darkness. At first, it was unrecognizable—a towering form cloaked in swirling blackness. Then the shadows receded slightly, revealing Tywin’s face, his piercing green eyes devoid of life, staring at Damon with an unseeing gaze. Blood trickled down from a gaping wound in his chest, staining the pristine snow at his feet.

“Father!” Damon screamed, his small hands reaching out, but Tywin's figure crumbled into ash before his eyes, the wind scattering it into nothingness.

“No, no, no!” Damon’s cries echoed in the void, but they were swallowed by the darkness. He spun around, searching for something, anything, to ground him. His mother’s voice—soft, soothing—called his name from somewhere far away.

“Damon...”

The sound filled him with fleeting hope, and he ran toward it, the snow beneath his feet now feeling like ice-cold quicksand. Each step grew heavier, the effort immense, but he pushed forward. The voice grew louder, clearer, until he saw her. Y/N, his mother, stood a few paces away, her silver hair gleaming even in the bleakness of his dream. Relief washed over him.

“Mother!” he cried, rushing toward her.

But as he approached, her form shifted. Her warm, comforting expression twisted into one of pain and terror. She reached out to him, blood dripping from her fingers, before her body collapsed to the ground. A shadow passed over her crumpled figure, and Damon’s eyes snapped upward to see a monstrous spider, its grotesque legs spanning the entire forest. Its countless, soulless eyes glimmered like dark stars as it descended upon her, its fangs dripping with venom.

“No!” Damon screamed, his voice breaking. He tried to run to her, but the ground beneath him gave way, and he plummeted into a pit of darkness. His mother’s scream echoed in his ears, merging with the guttural growls of unseen creatures.

He fell endlessly, surrounded by whispers, laughter, and the sound of snapping jaws. Just when he thought the darkness would consume him entirely, a thunderous roar shook the void.

Viserion.

The she-dragon’s roar shattered the oppressive silence and chased away the darkness, her powerful cry like a beacon of light in the nightmare. The shadows recoiled, retreating into the void as Damon felt himself pulled upward, the chill replaced by warmth and the suffocating stillness lifting.

With a start, Damon’s eyes snapped open, his small body drenched in cold sweat. His chest heaved as he sat up in his bed, his heart hammering against his ribs. The faint glow of moonlight filtered through the frosted window, and the familiar warmth of the castle walls slowly brought him back to reality.

Another roar echoed in the distance, fainter this time but unmistakable. Viserion’s presence seemed to reassure him, her cry a reminder that she was near, guarding them.

Damon’s wide, frightened eyes darted around the room, settling on Maelor, who was fast asleep in the bed beside him, his small form rising and falling peacefully under the blankets. Damon swallowed hard, his throat dry, as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He clutched his knees to his chest, trembling as the vivid images of his dream lingered in his mind.

“Mother... Father...” he whispered, his voice shaking.

He couldn’t shake the sight of their lifeless forms or the monstrous spider that had loomed over them. The fear gnawed at him, but deep inside, a spark of resolve flickered. He couldn’t let those nightmares become reality.

Outside, the faint cry of the dragons echoed once more, a comforting sound that kept the darkness at bay.

[axelsagewrites]

Robb Stark*Dream Part Two

Pairing: Robb x f!reader

Summary: After finding out the reader had a special dream about Robb, Robb decided to show the reader what he had dreamed about her.

Warnings: Smut, dom rob, f receiving oral, 18+

Word count: 3214

Masterlist Here

Part 1 Here

You knew as soon as you left the table Theon or Jon would tell Robb exactly what kind of dream you had had but you also could not take the smirks from Theon and Jon awkwardly looking away from you. Once you realised there was no escape from Robb finding out you decided distance was the thing you needed. You excused yourself and began to make yourself far too busy for any of the boys to start their ruthless teasing.

The worst of it was Robb didn’t even know it was about him. But you knew so now you had to act like no one knew encase he figured it out. So instead of risking it you did every task you could imagine over the next three days.

You showed Sansa some new embroidery stitches, helped Arya with her aim in archery, talked with Lady Catelyn about her upcoming nameday celebrations. At one point you even ended up in the kitchen peeling potatoes till Ned happened to see you and insisted it wasn’t necessary of his Lady ward.

After being ushered out of the kitchen you ended up walking to the courtyard, looking for Bran to entertain. This was around the time that Jon and Robb went horse riding so you assumed you would be safe. You soon realised you were wrong as Robb and Jon rode into the courtyard earlier than expected. As Robb began to dismount his horse you saw Bran and Rickon playing and quickly walked over. Robb obviously noticing your pace changed dismounted even faster to catch up, Jon on his heels.

“Lady- “Robb started but you crouched down to Bran and started talking over him.

“Wanna play hide and seek?” you tried to sound innocent, but you could feel Robb staring at the back of your head.

Bran and Rickon instantly perked up at the idea as the older Starks and you typically did not want to play their childish games. “Yeah!” Bran said as he ditched his toy soldiers on the ground.

Rickon was fast behind, “All of you?” the little shit inquired and unknowingly ruined your plans.

“Yeah, little man!” Robb said as he gave his youngest brother a fist bump to celebrate and gave you a knowing smirk. “Jon you in? “Jon must’ve read Robbs mind because he instantly agreed. “Should we do teams? If so, I call dibs on (Y/N),”

You stood up, feeling the colour drain from your face, but thank fully Rickon was not all bad as he quickly pointed out, “We can’t! There’s an odd number,”

“Rickson’s right. Every man for himself,” you agreed causing the youngest Stark to now fist bump you. “Who’s counting?”

“Jon,” Robb said before anyone could object.

Jon sighed but reluctantly went along with his brother’s plan. As Robb was whispering something to Jon you started to back away, giving yourself as much distance from Robb as you could for a head start. Bran quickly explained the rules of how they played hide and seek, you couldn’t hide in bedrooms or in the woods, as then told Jon to count to one hundred.

By the time Robb had turned around you were already at the opposite side of the courtyard and Jon then began to count. Jon had barely said the letter one when you sprinted for the stairs. You would never usually cheat when playing with children but this was a matter of life and eternal embarrassment so you ran as quickly as you could to your chambers, knowing how much of a stickler to the rules the starks were.

You were panting like a wet dog when you arrived at your chambers and flung the door closed behind you. As you took your cloak off to try and cool yourself down you heard footsteps in the corridor outside. You weren’t as clever as you thought.

As quickly and silently as you could you began to slide under your bed, hearing a knock when you were finally underneath. Would Robb really come into a lady’s chambers without permission?

Turns out he wasn’t as much of a stickler as you thought as you heard your door slowly open and saw his boots walk in. Robb gently closed the door behind him, not wanting people to think he had ill intentions or his mother to find out, and he began to walk into the room before suddenly stopping.

You cringed as you realised you weren’t wearing the cloak anymore that you must have dropped in your hurry. There was no point in trying to run now as Robbs boots walked over to the bed before he crouched down, his head peering under the bed and right at your face. A wolfish grin was placed on his face as he reached under and grabbed your arms to pull you out from under your own bed like a child. “Funny finding you here,”

You grumbled under your breath as you pulled yourself up to sit beside Robb on the floor next to your bed. “You cheated,”

“You cheated first.” He shot back but then the grin fell from his face, “You’re avoiding me,”

“Prove it,” you said, more stubborn than any other in the North but it was to no avail.

Robb rolled his eyes, “I just pulled you out from under your bed,” he said before asking, with hurt in his eyes, “Did I do something?”

Your heart clenched as his puppy eyes stared into yours, not realising before how he would feel by your sudden avoidance. You realised you had only made things worse in your attempts to avoid it, “No you didn’t,” you said before flinging your head back with a groan, “It was me okay? I was embarrassed so I wanted to hide until you forgot about it or something I don’t know, okay?”

Robb began to chuckle at your now flushed face, “Its okay,” he said as he took your hand, “It happens its alright. Theon was just wanting to wind you up about it but its whatever. Its not like we can control it,”

“Yeah, but it was just weird cause like,” you started to say but you realised there was no easy way to explain it, “I didn’t want you to know,”

Robb paused for a moment, and you could feel the clogs turning in his head, “Why just me though? Were you avoiding all of us or…?” he asked, trailing off as he looked at you.

You closed your eyes and sighed, “Just you,” you finally whispered, and you felt his hand slip away from yours.

Reluctantly you opened your eyes to see Robb had turned himself to face you straight on, a smirk playing on his gorgeous lips, “Who was your dream about?” he asked the dreaded question, and you felt your cheeks grow hot. His eyes widened as he saw your flush and how your eyes would look at anywhere but him. “Was it about me?” he asked with a new strange shine in his eyes. You glanced at him before nodding and closing your eyes, waiting to be laughed at. Robb chuckled but it wasn’t at you. It was deep and perfect, but it wasn’t mocking or amused. “And what was I doing in this dream?”

You opened your eyes as you felt him lean in closer, his face only a couple inches from yours, his breath fanning your face. “You don’t think im some creep?” you asked, ignoring his original question.

“I’d be a hypocrite if I did,” Robb started as his eyes roamed your face and down your body, his hand moving to rest on your thigh, “But you didn’t answer my question love,” he said as you felt a wetness beginning between your thighs that his hand was so close to yet so far away, “What was I doing to you in your dream?” he asked as his eyes landed back on yours.

His gaze was even stronger than that in your dream and you struggled to speak at first, “It was more me doing things to you,”

“What kind of things?” Robb leaned in closer, his lips grazing your cheeks, “I’d like to dream about them too,” he said as his hand moved further up your clothed thigh to land on your hip, “Maybe try some out as well if you’d like,” his hand gripped your hip tighter and you felt your stomach flutter.

“I was on my knees,” you started but Robb cut you off by gripping your hip and pulling you to straddle his thighs which caused your dress to ride up. You felt your breath hitch in your throat as his hands found the small of your back, “and you were on the bed,”

“What was I making you do dove?” he asked as he took your chin into his fingers, forcing you to look him in his eyes while you admitted your secret dreams to him.

You cleared your throat and tried to look away, but he held your head in place, “You were making me suck your cock,” you finally whispered, and you saw the wolfish glint return to his eyes.

“Is that so?” he said, and you could only nod. Robb grinned as he leant into whisper in your ear, his lips on the edge of it and his breath tingling your face, “Did you like it?”

“Yes, my king,” you said without even thinking about it and now you were face to face with Robb again, his nose brushing off of yours, “Sorry its just- “

“Is that what you call me? In your dreams?” he asked causing your face to flush and eyes to water before you nodded. Robb placed a kiss to your check, “I like that,” he said as he brought his hand to your face, his thumb rubbing against your check, “Don’t be so sad love. I’ve had my own dreams too,”

“You have?” you asked, and Robb nodded.

“So many nights I’ve had dreams of you,” he admitted as his lips fell to start littering kisses from your neck to your jaw as he spoke, “of how you would look underneath me. I would imagine how you would look as you came undone around me,” he said which caused you to shiver and you could feel his smirk as he kissed your jaw before pulling back to have his lips hover over yours, “I’ve dreamt of kissing these pretty lips of yours,” he said as his thumb moved to rub over your bottom lip like he had in your dreams before, “Would you like that?” he asked and you quickly nodded.

Robb wasted no time in closer the gap between you. His lips crashed onto yours and they felt better than you had ever imagined. They were soft but had become slightly rough from the cold northern air. They moved perfectly in sync with your own and the need for air did not seem to matter anymore. His hands crept down to land on your waist, pulling you closer, and on top of his clothed member which you could feel hard under his clothes. Your hands found his chest, feeling how toned he was through his tunic and wanted nothing more than to pull it off. Robb must’ve sensed this as he only broke the kiss to remove his tunic, leaving him in his undershirt, before he latched his lips to yours again.

This time he began to nip at your bottom lip for entry and you were no one to deny your king whose tongue slipped in as soon as you allowed. You moaned into the kiss when you felt his hips buck beneath you, his member rubbing against your clothed wet spot.

Eventually you had to break for air and the feeling of Robbs warm breath against your lips drove you crazy. “Would you like to know what I see in my dreams?” he asked, and you nodded, unable to speak from your desperation.

“I see you and me,” he started before pulling you to your feet from the floor, turning you around to pull the laces of your dress lose, “in my chambers with you in your pretty little shift,” he said as your dress fell to the floor. You shivered at the cold and the touch of his fingers on your back. Robb spun you to face him, your hands resting on his chest, “In bed,” he continued, this time pushing you to fall back on your bed, “kissing you,” he said as he began to crawl over you, leaving a trail of kisses from your thighs to your chest to your throat, “everywhere,” he finished as he kissed your lips again.

Your hands tangled into his hair as one of his moved to squeeze your breast causing you to gasp into the kiss allowing him entrance. You moaned as you felt his finger tracing around your nipple over your thin shift. “I always wondered what you’d sound like,” Robb broke the kiss to say as he continued his teasing, his fingers pinching it in just the right way to cause your whines. “Or how you would feel,” the loss of his hand left you are wishing from more, but your body shivered as you felt it brush up your thigh before settling where you wanted him most. He traced a finger up it is causing you to whine and him to chuckle, “Did you ever dream about this too?” he asked, and you nodded but this time he tutted, “Use your words,” he said as he began to place kisses along your jaw.

“Yes, my king,” you said, and he finally slid his fingers in, stretching you as he did. You moaned as you felt them move into you and more when he began to curl them inside of you.

Without thinking your eyes closed but this was not good enough for Robb, “Keeps your eyes on me or I’ll stop,” he warned and you quickly opened them to see him gazing at your face, “Good girl,” he said as he began to curl his fingers again, “I wanna see those pretty eyes of yours while I fuck you with my fingers,” he said, his thumb now moving to press onto your clit, a whiney moan leaving your lips. “You’re such a pretty little whore, aren’t you?” he said causing the knot in your stomach to grow.

“Thank you,” you whispered causing his smirk to grow, “Please don’t stop,” you begged.

“Do you want to know what else I want to know?” he asked, and you told him yes. “I always wanted to know how you tasted,” he said, and your breath caught in your throat at the idea, “Do you think you deserve that? To have your king in between your legs kissing you in unspeakable ways?”

“Please,” you begged, his fingers still curling inside of you, “I’ll be good please. I promise, I’ll be good for you,” you moaned, and Robb placed a firm kiss on your lips as he removed his fingers from you causing you to whine.

Robb trailed his kiss away from your mouth to kiss down your body finally arriving where he had told you about, “Your so impatient,” he chastised, his breath fanning over you causing you to shiver. Without warning Robb licked up your wet cunt and you let out a strangled moan as your body instinctively pulled away. Robb used his hands to press your hips down in the bed, “Let me take care of you,” he said as he licked again, another moan falling from your lips, “my queen,” he finished before his tongue began its assault on your core which he was now lapping up and moaning into. His vibrations sending shivers down your spine as the knot in your stomach grew huge at the knew sensation of his tongue. He moved his head to line his nose up to your clit, nudging against it with every lick causing you to almost explode at his touch. His tongue began to move in and out of you causing you to bring your one hand out of his hair and up to your mouth to try containing your moans. “You taste so fucking good,” he muttered against your core, “and you sound even better,” he said as he moved his fingers to your hole, diving in and out, curling with every thrust, so his tongue could move to focus on your sensitive nub.

Even your hand struggled to contain your moans when Robb began to suck on your clit. You felt an exploding pressure in your stomach which you struggled to contain but when Robb grazed his teeth against your clit you felt your whole-body tremor beneath him as you came undone from his mouth. You were almost gasping for breath, your eyes wet from the relief that flooded your body. You felt Robb pull away from your core as you stared at the ceiling panting like a dog.

His breathing was also heavy as he came up, his face now covered in your wetness causing you to blush, but he paid it no mind when he placed a strong kiss on your lips. “You are so perfect,” he murmured against your lips. “I don’t think I will ever get enough of you,”

“Good,” you said, your hand moving to hold his face in your hand, “Because I will never get enough of you,” you said as you felt an overwhelming tiredness wash over your body.

“You should rest love,”

“But you didn’t- “you tried to argue but Robb would not hear it.

Robb pressed a kiss to your forehead, “You can return the favour later sweetheart,”

You lay with Robb in a perfect silence, almost fully drifted off when you heard pounding on your door, “We know you’re in there!” Bran yelled through the door, and you felt all the colour drain from your face.

You looked at Robb who was also stark white, “You cheated!” Rickon yelled.

As they tried to open the door Robb sprang out of bed to hold it close. You could hear Jon in the background and quickly scrambled under your covers. “Tell them I fell and hurt myself,” You whisper shouted to Robb who quickly nodded and yelled for his brothers to wait, and he’d let them in. he quickly shoved his tunic over his head and opened the doors as innocently as he could.

Rickon and Bran stalked into the chambers with Jon reluctantly following behind, making sure he was not about to be scarred by the sight in front of him. Rickson’s face dropped in confusion, “Why are you in bed?”

“She fell- “

“-up the stairs- “

“- I had to help her here- “

“-we didn’t cheat,” you finished your story which thank every lucky star Rickon believed. Bran clearly had his doubts but was too young to understand what Jon knew had happened. However, at Robbs suggestion they get to play with his real sword Bran dropped the subject. Lady Catelyn may be upset when she finds out what Robb had let them do but you both knew it would be far worse if she found out what you had done moments before they had barged in.

Taglist: @clairacassidy @twilightrows

[esther-dot]

oh and I hope you don't mind (we can share my mood) 11k by @thkingslayer

“You make presumptions, your highness.” “I do not. I know how unwanted I am by you, Lady Sansa.” Her mouth opens as she struggles to find the words to tell him it isn’t true. She’s a lady. She would be nice if he would. She just wants— She just wants— -- When the king travels north, Sansa takes an immediate liking to Prince Aegon. She does not, however, want anything to do with her cousin Prince Jon—the brooding, dark haired, younger brother. She's quite sure he does not want anything to do with her also. And by the Old Gods and the New, she will not let him ruin her mood.

Dawn 19k

Like her mother before her, Sansa will do her duty. She will marry a man who is practically a stranger, mere days before he sets off for war.

All That Glitters 3k by @rumaan

Sansa is annoyed she has to give up a day with Prince Aegon to show his boring younger brother around Winterfell. Some alone time with Prince Jon makes her re-evaluate her opinion.

Sapphires and Salt 9k by @wendynerdwrites

The Princess to be is jilted, the unwanted prince rises

Salty Teens one, two, three by @blackholeofprocrastination

Sansa bursts into his solar in a swirl of skirts, her precious courtesies forgotten. Jon remains seated behind his desk, earning a scowl from his lady wife.  “What did you say to Jeyne?” she demands. “Nothing.”  It’s not entirely true, but he is still too furious to be cowed in his own damn solar.

Learning to fight, learning to Dance 1k by @myrish-lace-love

Lyanna Stark survives, and Jon and Aegon are half-brothers. Jon is in a hastily arranged marriage with Sansa Stark. They get on each other's nerves constantly during the day, but their nights are a different matter.

What a Disappointment 7k by @justadram

Sansa Stark and Jon Targaryen are married and neither of them is pleased about it. Set in a world where Rhaegar lives and Jon was raised in King's Landing as a legitimized bastard.

lights still shining in the room, you left me here 11k

Perhaps at one point, her marriage to Jon had become less of a sham. But with a history of three dead children between them, even the strongest of unions would break, let alone one as fragile as theirs. When Sansa tries to save herself, her actions lead to some interesting revelations.

Made New 3k

Sansa does not get the wedding night that she longed for and has to fix it

Tell the Ones That Need to know (We Are Headed North) 10k by @vixleonard

After years of confinement in the Red Keep with Ned prisoner in the black cells, the Dragon Queen comes. With the knowledge that Jon Snow is actually a Targaryen, she agrees to let the Starks return to Winterfell only if Jon marries one of the Stark daughters. Sansa volunteers so they can all go home. Soon she figures out being married to Jon isn't bad but it is complicated.

half a kingdom and a princess 2k by @misshoneywheeler

“Guess you’re stuck with me, old girl.” Old girl. He’s never called her that before. He’s never called her anything but Sansa and my lady, or sometimes Lady Stark, a title that gives them both discomfort as Lady Stark is still Sansa’s mother to each of them. Something in Sansa thrills at the strange endearment, though she should – and may – protest at being called such a thing. There’s just something so familiar in the words, in Jon’s soft affection as he says them. Something intimate and real.

A Convenient Inconvenience 4k

Once Daenerys takes the Iron Throne she knows the battle is only half over. Now that she has the throne she must keep it. Since she cannot have heirs of her own she names her new half-brother, the former Jon Snow, now Jon Targaryen, the Crown Prince. And a prince needs a princess which is where Sansa Stark comes in. The pair marry yet it takes months for Jon to realize that Sansa thinks of their relationship as more than just a duty.

PRE CANON - WESTERN - FAIRYTALE - REGENCY - LITTLE WOMEN - HOLIDAY - SEASON SIX - ANNE OF GREEN GABLES - THE GIRL IN GREY - FREE CITIES - FAIRYTALE PART II - POLITICAL MARRIAGE - POST CANON - RICKON LIVES - JON X ALAYNE

[lord-armitage]

ASOIAF Characters Ranked of How Likely They Are to Survive A Horror Movie

Robb Stark - 4/10

The likeable, grounded voice of reason comes up with the best strategies but delays things by ignoring Grey Wind's instincts. Will die either as a heroic sacrifice during the climax or at the end of the second act to ramp up the stakes.

Cat Stark - 0/10

Dead before the story began. She's the reason why the Starks decided to have a fresh start in a new town living in that creepy old mansion. Maybe her possessed ghost will enter the story, but she's already gone.

Ned Stark - 1/10

"No, children, this house is definitely not haunted. What you are hearing at the end is just the floorboards settling. There's no such thing are ghosts or monsters. Maybe we should take your direwolves to the vets as they keep barking at nothing during the night?"

Sansa Stark - 5/10

Could go either way with Sansa. She'll either be the girl who dies first if the scriptwriter is a misogynist, or the final girl if not. Either way, she's getting absolutely drenched in blood.

Ayra Stark - 10/10

Of course Ayra surives. There isn't even a question that Ayra Stark won't survive a horror movie.

Daenerys Targaryen - 10/10

Dany is literally the final girl in her own story, so she's the final girl here now. There has literally never been a character created with more final girl energy than Dany.

Tyrion Lannister - 2/10

Gets way too confident in his intellectual ability to defeat the monster. Will have a moment where he thinks he's defeated it by chanting something out of an old book, but doesn't spot check to make sure it's really gone and ends up getting killed.

Jon Snow - 9/10

The quiet one who knew exactly what was happening right from the start because he trusts Ghost's instincts. While everyone else is arguing about the monster being real, he's getting weapons. Fully aware of what genre he's in.

Theon Greyjoy - 0/10

Theon was born to be the drunk frat bro who dies first in a horror movie by doing something insanely stupid, like opening the door for the zombies or thinking that he can fight the monster himself. He would also be a character to purposefully hide his infection/bite/whatever, thus dicking over the other characters.

Asha Greyjoy - 8/10

She knows that she's in a horror film and takes it all in her stride. Most likely character to quip. If she doesn't survive, then she'll be killed in the big climatic action scene at the end, weakening the monster enough so that the last person standing now has a chance to defeat them.

Stannis Baratheon - 0/10

Authority figure who angrily refuses to acknowledge the strange goings on in this town and refuses to do anything about it as "ghosts aren't real." Is one of the first ones to die.

Loras Tyrell - 10/10*

*Loras survives by sheer technicality. Ten years ago he would have been killed for sure but now the writers are worried about being cancelled for using the bury your gays trope, so instead of killing him they write him out of the story so it doesn't technically count.

[15-lizards]

In the spirit of the Olympics: ASOIAF characters and their Olympic sports

Jamie Cersei obviously a tennis doubles team thanks @melrosing for ur big brained art. Tywin is their coach and has been abusing training them since they were like seven. Consistent natty champs but haven’t scored a Wimbledon title yet and have yet to get gold at the Olympics (they have one bronze one silver). Mostly because Cersei breaks her racket every time things start going wrong. Also because Jamie is so full to the brim with shame and need for daddy’s recognition that he starts breaking down almost immediately once the point gap starts to widen

Brienne is a long distance swimmer she’s the Katie Ledecky of Westeros no one can touch her do you see her wingspan??? Usually finishes 5-15 seconds before everyone else sometimes other ppl aren’t even in the frame. Has multiple gold medals at this point and has been to the Olympics twice before she even turned 20. Lesbians go crazy over her online

Arya does some type of shooting and she’s like those tiny little teenagers that show up and blow all of their grownup competition out of the water. Steady hand and crazy aim. OR she does fencing and has a super unique style that gets the internet really into it for a couple of weeks. OR judo in the lightweight class. She’s so talented 🙂‍↕️ she’s definitely medaled at her first games when she’s like 14

Sansa is very obviously a figure skater like!!!! Of course she is!!! She is obsessed with her lines and artistry and takes ballet classes in order to improve her fluidity. She’s a young star in women’s singles, mostly for how graceful and fluid she is when she moves, and for her very gentle/pretty/romantic choice of costumes, music, and choreography. But she really wants to do pair skating mostly because she wants to have a romantic story to tell at their wedding (yes Joffrey is the potential partner)

Dany plays field hockey and she is sooooo cute and fun and peppy off the field and is so charming during all the interviews and always gives the girls a great inspirational speech and is just a very good leaderly figure in general. And then the game starts and you see a 5’2 platinum blonde sprinting towards u with blood and malice in her eyes and a big stick in her hands. She wants gold and by god does she get gold. Occasionally body checks ppl but she’s just too small for rugby.

Robb is a young rugby star he’s so handsome and muscular and all of his interviews go viral everyone’s obsessed with his training videos that the team TikTok posts. Soooo good too he’s on the Olympic team at 18 and he’s just sprinting down that field and dominating the game. But he’s so oblivious to it all the love when ppl ask if he’s dating anyone he’s like why would I do that I have to bulk up and focus on my game 🤨 and then runs off to meal prep with Theon (who does not meal prep but is obsessed with him)

Jon is an ice hockey guy to me. So dark and brooding while he’s sitting on the bench and he’s all locked in when it’s time to start playing he’s just so serious ab it he lives for The Game. But every time his buddies score a goal he goes absolutely batshit crazy and just loses all composure. And when they win he starts ugly sobbing. There’s a viral photo of him after winning his first gold just standing on the podium with snot and tears running down his face while the rest of the team is like 😁😁😆😄 him and Robb train together but Jon has absolutely no media training every interview is a disaster

[atopvisenyashill]

Worst things GOT did casting wise:

- making Dany too beautiful (+ styling her in a way that she never has a hair out of place, always wears BLUE - which makes her look peaceful and soft and angelic, not making her burn her hair off etc). I just think of that one official art piece that's in the illustrated AGOT book where dany is bald, with the dragons and sparks and frames around her and its so striking instead of the "beautiful angelic blonde women stand empowered with her tits out" scene we got

- casting Iain Glen as Jorah and not like. a random Lannister (like. Come on. He is a burly and ugly man... why are you casting one of the most beautiful men to play him.... this is how we ended up with dany/jorah shippers)

-making Joffrey too unattractive (this is not meant to disparage JG who is a great actor and seems like a really cool dude and i'm not saying he's ugly but I think from his very first scene Joffrey looks very punchable and it would have been so much smarter to make the audience .. relate to Sansa's infatuation with his golden looks. In my head (and in all the official art) Joffrey looks like a male version of cersei/a younger version of Jaime.)

- making Dany, Jon, Robb, Marg, Brienne etc 10+ years older than Sansa and the younger starklings .... It's not "the main characters and arya (who is so cool and can kill people) + the little children" it's ONE AGE group of equally important characters

Like I know people are upset at Ned/Jon etc being too attractive, WHICH I GET, but I feel like those were very vibe based casting decisions and i'm ultimately fine with that (I also think it's easier for the audience to root for someone if they're attractive so like. I guess they had to do it) but these other things resulated in people's perception of the characters being so wildly different from what they're supposed to be. The real reason people get so angry whenever someone says they wish tamzin had stayed is because they don't like the idea of daenerys not being this ethereal beauty (TM is beautiful but not in a conventional way) that they can fully root for without issue.

1. NO YOU ARE SOOOOOO RIGHT ABOUT THEM REFUSING TO LET DANY LOOK UGLY. it’s not to say tamzin isn’t clearly beautiful, but i think she’s beautiful in the same way gwendoline christie is, which is that she’s very striking and she has a strong presence but she’s not exactly what people picture when they say “typical hot lady” (which is Crazy these are all able bodied white women, like the definition of “beauty” is soooooo fuckijg narrow that tamzin merchant is ~atypically beautiful) vs emilia definitely is, and YES like everything from not burning her hair off to emilia being,,,,,fuller in figure than dany as a fourteen year old would be is just very clear that they saw dany different than the way she is On The Page. i mean i know people whack george for saying that she’s like a sexy funny lady or whatever but george never lets go of the fact that she’s incredibly young whereas d&d completely miss that part of her character.

i will say i Get the criticism of tamzin perhaps not picking up on the conlangs easily because one thing you can say for emilia is that she had a decent head for the conlangs, she’s even still partially fluent in dothraki lmaooo. but all the other stuff they said about why they recast dany it’s like. hmmmmmmmmmm.

2. absolutely right about iain especially because he’s similar to idk paddy in that he’s got CHARISMA but unlike viserys, they didn’t intent to portray him as a deeply flawed, antagonistic character they went in portraying him as like an objectively Good Guy dedicated to dany. he’s just so much less creepy and pushy in the show and has several scenes where he shows some moral backbone - that “yet here you stand” “yet here i stand” scene is sooooooo good for example, the fact that he actually apologizes for spying on dany, giving him the greyscale story & not having him fuck a valyrian looking woman in a brothel 💀, etc etc - and you also just lose some of the creepiness here because emilia is clearly a grown if young woman and ian is handsome, so it’s like. welll of Course you want to root for them to be together! and never mind that this is a Massive departure from their book characterizations!! again, they have this idea of jorah in their head that doesn’t match up with what’s on the page even a little.

3. i do get your point re: joffrey and i think this is my problem with aidan as littlefucker too - they’re too obviously villains and it makes ned and sansa look stupid. like, in the books we have that moment where robb almost decks joffrey which does seem to signal something bad but the crown prince being full of himself doesn’t mean he’s going to threaten his betrothed’s sister with a sword then get his ass handed to him by a toddler. in the show we get QUITE a number of scenes where joffrey is shown to be a brat AND as you say, just like aidan, jack has a Certain Look, he looks like a shitty jock who has allegations against him ajsjdj like irl when jack smiles he’s so adorable!! but in the show they REALLY play up his ability to channel a greasy aura ya know aksjd. when the point of asoiaf is often that villains don’t LOOK like villains, but some of our Main Villains clearly resemble typical villains in the show.

4. “it’s ONE age group of characters” NO YOU ARE SO RIGHT. like, there’s several years difference from robert to ned to cat to the twins to tyrion but they’re all the same generation of characters. there’s that exact same age difference from brienne to robb, dany, jon to sansa, arya, bran, with theon kind of similar to characters like jorah, who are old enough to remember The Before Times but aren’t quite in either generation. but because they wanted dany, brienne, jon, robb, and margaery to be more of a Typical archetype rather than an exploration of that archetype, they aged everyone up and essentially invented another generation between the “adult” characters and the “kid” characters. not to be super nerdy here but one of my favorite worked shoots in wrestling is one cody rhodes did where he was ranting about the way young wrestlers get put through the grinder and he has this amazing line where he sums it up as “old men talking, young men dying” and it’s not to say there aren’t a lot of old dudes Also dying lmao but you really see this where young leaders are often unprepared for their responsibilities and used as puppets by older men and you just MISS THAT when that whole generation is so grown!

it’s like they looked at those themes of war being terrible and all consuming and brutal no matter how justified you feel you are and went “wow war is brutal 😍” LIKE PLEASE????

[ladystoneboobs]

[Cat, to Brienne:]"And Arya, well . . . Ned's visitors would oft mistake her for a stableboy if they rode into the yard unannounced. [...]" -Catelyn VII, aCoK

ok, this is another thing that makes me feel like i'm taking crazy pills bc i never see it talked about with all the implications behind it. so if anyone is more versed in androgynous medievalish clothing, feel free to correct me here, but my thinking is if unannounced visitors mistook arya for a stableboy, would that not mean she was wearing boyish riding garb, trousers and all? bc if she was running around with messy hair and a dirty gown, wouldn't she more likely be seen as a female servant? if my reading is not wildly offbase that does not jibe with the idea of arya being terrorized all day by both septa mordane and her mother to be more ladylike. rather, this limited freedom to be mistaken for a servant could suggest that pragmatic catelyn was picking her battles with arya too, not forcing her to always appear prim and proper on days when they were not expecting any guests to see her. catelyn "despaired of ever making a lady of" arya, though neither she nor ned could abandon the goal, which could mean a more measured approach, not exhausting herself by going after arya for every unladylike move she made, especially when she was still a prepubescent child. the quote above starts a paragraph which ends with catelyn feeling "as though a giant hand were squeezing her chest" after saying she thought arya was dead like bran and rickon, after no word of her since ned's arrest. in that context of grief, i think all her words about arya should be read as coming with bittersweet fondness, just being honest about their problems, not sugarcoating any of it.

but let's compare catelyn's trials with arya, including her often running around looking like a stableboy, to arya's interactions with lady smallwood, somehow seen as an even better mother-figure than her own mother, whom arya found easier to comply with bc of her kinder manner. first of all, lady smallwood's efforts to make arya ladylike included two baths and two dresses in one day after arya and gendry ruined the first dress, before finally giving her boy's riding clothes to leave in. i would argue a full second bath was unneeded when they could have just washed the dirt off her face and hands, and, furthermore, that both the dresses were an impractical waste when she knew arya would be riding back out with the outlaws and could not look a highborn lady when doing so. idt pragmatic catelyn would have gone to all that trouble just to make arya look ladylike for a few hours when there were no other ladies around. as for the claim that arya found it easier to comply with her? no, that's just flat-out demonstrably false. the text says she was "forced" into a tub and "they insisted" she wear girl's clothes. what room did she have to refuse as a hostage in a stranger's castle? she certainly felt no compunction about fighting gendry in the acorn dress she'd been forced into, and only felt bad about it afterward when lady smallwood talked about her dead son.

now, let's move on to the only canon quotes we have from cat to/about arya in arya's pov.

"Sansa's work is as pretty as she is," Septa Mordane told their lady mother once. "She has such fine, delicate hands." When Lady Catelyn had asked about Arya, the septa had sniffed. "Arya has the hands of a blacksmith." -Arya I, aGoT Her father had hunted boar in the wolfswood with Robb and Jon. Once he even took Bran, but never Arya, even though she was older. Septa Mordane said boar hunting was not for ladies, and Mother only promised that when she was older she might have her own hawk. -Arya V, aCoK 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. -The Blind Girl(/Arya I), aDwD

in the first quote we don't know catelyn's reaction to septa mordane's rude disapproval of arya, certainly not if she agreed with it. what we do know is she was not interested in only hearing endless praise of sansa and wanted to hear if arya had made any progress. although admittedly that was a vain hope, which ignored arya's true strengths and the possibility that she could never master and enjoy needlework the way catelyn did.

the second quote better shows the difference between arya's mother and her septa. catelyn does not criticize arya for wanting to hunt boar nor dismiss her interest. instead she tries to mollify arya and accomodate her desire with the promise of a future hunting hawk. that this was a promise, not just an idle thought, suggests this would have happened in due time and could have been a bonding activity for them if the plot hadn't intervened.

the third quote is definitely a backhanded compliment and doubly unhelpful in comparison to sansa, but at least it shows catelyn did not think one of her own daughters was ugly. she thought both were pretty even tho sansa was the more admired as traditionally beautiful, and she thought arya's looks were held back by her messy hair and clothes. (useful to remember for those fans who like to keep track of how many characters called arya pretty vs. how many call her ugly.)

yes, it is a bad sign that arya genuinely wondered if her mother would want her back, dirtier than ever in her disguise as a peasant boy. their relationship definitely had faults which the adult parent must bear responsibility for. but we must remember that arya also worried if robb would pay a ransom for her, and was most ashamed about the people she'd killed, and couldn't bear the thought of ned knowing all she'd done. and we must keep in mind that even ned never openly gainsaid septa mordane on-page either, and that arya desperately wanted to renunite with her mother and felt confident gendry could stay with her if she vouched for him with her mother. that confidence would seem completely unwarranted if their mother/daughter relationship was as utterly bad as some fans make out.

[jackoshadows]

The most amazing thing about Jonsa shippers is how confidently they just assert that all their fanon, fanfiction and headcanons actually happened in the books and at a certain point everyone else pointing out how this is untrue just give up. There's no arguing against ignorance.

Following up on this post, the same person then goes on with more fanfiction against two redditors trying to engage with them on actual book canon lol.

One thing I have noticed is that when you get into a discussion with Jonsa/Sansa stans, 90% of the time, instead of actually engaging with you, they will link to a relentlessly long essay full of nonsense to support their argument. That's because they have not actually read the books - everything they write is regurgitated from these idiotic metas and so they just link to it thinking that it will convince us or change our minds.

They know they can't argue against walls of book text that disproves the outright fallacious nonsense they put forth as canon and immediately go " Well, I don't have the time, there are other expert, smart Jonsas who have analyzed all this and say that Jonsa is a thing in the books so I trust them. The end.' Mind closed. And that's the problem with debating with Jonsa shippers - you will never change their minds because they are not open to changing their minds!

Like there are folks in there telling them that Alys looks like Arya and that's why Melisandre mistakes one for the other. But no, here have this big essay with maps and such filled to the brim with pure nonsense on why Sansa is the 'girl in grey'....

EVERYTHING in that reply is the same old tired nonsense again and again and again:

Sansa was hiding in the Vale as Petyr’s bastard and modeled her identity as Alayne basically after Jon.

NO SHE DIDN'T. It's right there in the text after Myranda Royce brings Jon up and Sansa says that she hadn't thought of Jon in ages. All the while Sansa is thinking of her family and where she can flee to - she even thinks of Tyrion as an option, but never Jon. She is playing a pretend bastard and never once thinks of Jon. This idea that she modeled Alayne after Jon is contradicted by the text but they think repeating it enough times will make it canon or something.

They’re both honorable and compassionate people. They’re both arguably spoiled.

Sansa is 'honorable and compassionate'? Sansa? Compassionate?

Poor Mycah must have missed out on that. It's not Arya that's risking everything to save a butcher's boy who is honorable and compassionate. It's not Bran standing up for Hodor against the Frey boys who is compassionate and honorable. Oh no, that's Sansa!

And sorry but there is no comparison here to Jon and Sansa being spoiled. None. Jon had a chip on his shoulder from being a bastard. Donal Noye sets him straight, he learns, acknowledges his privilege and APOLOGIZES.

I am still waiting on Sansa to atleast reflect in her thoughts about how she treated Arya - but no, Sansa is still blaming Arya for Lady! Her father had to lose his head before Sansa even figures out that these cartoonishly evil characters were actually evil while betraying her family to become queen. No introspection, no growth, none.

The absolute worst part of this ship is all these trash parallels between the two characters when they couldn't be any more different to each other.

He (Jon) thinks of her as he’s dying.

WTF!! NO, JON DOES NOT THINK OF SANSA AS HE'S DYING!

As for Jon’s tastes, Jon is also a sheltered teenage boy who had never had a romantic relationship with anyone before meeting Ygritte.

Jon's tastes don't matter because he was a sheltered boy! You just wait he will totally change once he meets Sansa!

especially because there is no chance in Hell that with Jon’s station and lowly birth he could even marry a lady of good standing to begin with.

Totally! He only dislikes ladies like Catelyn and Sansa because he could never hope to marry a 'lady of good standing' and not because of the emotional abuse and bigotry.

And yet — when Jon dreams, he doesn’t dream of these warrior women. He dreams of having a traditional wife who will give him sons and rule Winterfell with him.

WTF! HOW IS VAL A TRADITIONAL WIFE?! Did I miss something? Does he dream of starting a family with someone else?

There’s also other things too; like Jon conflating red headed characters with Ygritte (right after he thinks of Sansa singing and brushing out Lady’s coat, he thinks of Ygritte’s words, he thinks Melisandre is Ygritte at first, his favorite part about Ygritte was her pretty red hair), or him calling Sansa radiant and immediately despising Joffery.

He compares Ygitte and Melisandre because Mel has red hair and is called the red priestess for a reason!! At no point does he conflate Sansa with Ygritte or Melisandre. Sansa has auburn hair like Robb and Bran and Rickon.

And I already made a post about this, but you know nothing Jon Snow is either about Arya or about Bran, Rickon and Sansa. So no, it's not specifically about Sansa - more Jonsa fanfiction.

And so, so tired of this Jon is jealous of Joffrey over Sansa nonsense when Jon as a typical male teenager is annoyed that Joffrey is taller than him and Robb despite them being older and because Jon has more house loyalty than Sansa he dislikes Joffrey for his derisive attitude towards Winterfell.

Especially annoying that as the redditor replying to them points out that ALL the Stark kids start out as naive dreamers! Arya and Bran are ten times more honorable and compassionate than Sansa! Arya had to pretend to be shit as well, for longer than Jon and Sansa! Arya almost loses herself - only Needle is preventing that! Bran has to stop and prevent himself from warging Hodor and retaining his humanity. Arya, Bran, Rickon ALL WANT TO RETURN TO WINTERFELL! And yes once they get older, these kids will also want to name their future children after their ancestors!! What's so unique about any of this shit to Jon and Sansa?!

But these shippers will basically downplay all these themes for the rest of the Starks and then innocently ask 'why does Jonsa get so much hate?' 🥺👉 👈

You’re entitled to your opinions. But I didn’t come here to debate

I didn't come here to debate while writing a whole fanfiction essay about Jonsa! There will be no more comments from them.

[jonsahater4live]

what each of the stark kids used to play with as children:

jon&robb: hardcore lego children, they always payed together lego ninjago and would never let out an episode. they watched it together every evening on toggo. they also loved lego starwars but because catelyn forbade them watching it they listened to the audios of it on cd and read every starwars book in they’re city library

sansa: she had lots of different play tings, barbie, lego friends, dolls, schleich, polly pocket and silvainian family but her favourite thing was playmobiel, she had the big house and all the sets for inside. she and jeanie would watch together family vogel on youtoube (shout out to the germans) and tried to play the storylines out with sansas sets. and also they hated family houser

arya: when she was younger sansa would force her to play dolls, but after time arya tried to play with jon and robb. they didnt let her play with them because she would destroy theyre “battle strategy” from the stormtroopers, so her hyper fixation became dinos! she would have every dino figure you could think of and she would tell you about every single one of them, she had dino tshirts and a dino rainsuit like this:

bran: was an outdoor kid, but after he “fell” he started playing minecraft and since then is extremly fascinated by it.

rickon: nerf. but then bren was in the coma no one had time for him and his nerf guns so he got an ipad to play a little bit roblox but since then no one has seen him without it. catelyn is deeply ashamed that she made an ipad kid.

theon: played with his brothers water bording, he was the victim. once asked his father to play dolls with him and asha, he hit him

[jonsnowunemploymentera]

This isn’t really a fully formed thought or anything. But it’s interesting how Sansa, Jon, and Lyanna specifically factor into one of GRRM’s greater explorations on the merits of fantasy. More specifically, there is a common trope that connects these three characters: a princess locked in a tower transforming into a valiant knight/hero. Lyanna and Jon, for starters, are pretty obvious explorations of this. Lyanna is the reconstructed version of this classic trope especially as presented through Arthurian tradition; but the twist here is that the dragon/knight who “locks” her in the tower isn’t actually evil and she isn’t so much kidnapped but rather willingly chooses to go there with him. This princess in a tower directly results in the birth of the hidden prince trope, which is even older than Arthur. So one fantasy classic, Rhaegar and Lyanna, leads to another with Jon being Arthur (a hidden prince and destined king), Percival (a hero who grows up in obscurity but has a great destiny to save the land), and Galahad (a noble hero destined to be even greater than his father, Rhaegar/Lancelot, ever was) all at once.

This princess dies in the tower…but her spirit/ghost lives on through her son, who grows up to look and act just like her, eventually becoming the valiant hero you read in the stories (but again, a de/reconstructed version). Part of how Jon does this is by repeating Lyanna’s actions as the valiant “knight” protecting an innocent from bullies. So by making it out of that tower even though his mother didn’t, Jon becomes the survival and rebirth of the fantasy ideal. You could even make the argument that just because Lyanna died doesn’t mean fantasy died as well because it lives on through Jon, her son. And this is actually is aided by Lyanna’s pleading for her son’s life, so she has some agency in how fantasy is preserved in the same way she had agency in how it’s perpetuated when she protected Howland Reed and when she ran off with Rhaegar. The princess living on and becoming the hero/knight in the stories is thus taken on by two characters here: Lyanna and Jon, mother and son. Jon goes even further into the Arthurian-knight playbook by encountering and eventually killing another vicious bully, Janos Slynt, who was coincidentally had a hand in his father’s demise. Then enter princess in the tower 2.0, Sansa Stark.

Sansa is an interesting case because she’s not martial in the way Lyanna and Jon are. But she too encounters her fair share of knights and villains. Janos Slynt is one of them, and Littlefinger will be another. I’ve talked about this before but Jon becoming the valiant hero Sansa wished for is important because it directly plays into GRRM’s reconstruction and (imo) defense of the ideals of fantasy. It’s not so much that heroes don’t exist - they actually do. They just might be far away, or might be the ones you’d never expect. This is the opposite of the “fantasy is dead, stop believing because everything sucks” reading you might see in some sections of the fandom. This moment may not end up meaning much for Jon and Sansa and their relationship, but it means a lot to us readers who are audiences of GRRM’s conversations with the genre and his arguments for its appeal. But that’s not the only interesting thing because Sansa, unlike Lyanna, does eventually make it out of the tower. But she’s currently in the hands of Littlefinger who, like Janos Slynt, was a villain responsible for her father’s demise. In this scenario, will she have to wait for a valiant hero to come take care of him again? Or will she instead don the knight’s armor (figuratively) by enacting justice in her own right? Based on the GoHH’s prophecy, it looks like it will be the latter; and it’s important to note how often “armor” as a motif is repeated in Sansa’s chapters. Thus, the princess evolving into the hero is told through the arc of a singular character here. Sansa is the princess who makes it out of the tower to become a hero of her own making; important disclaimer though, Littlefinger doesn’t really play into the elements of knighthood but he does count as an evil lord holding a princess hostage so Sansa can still be a subversion of the knight rescuing the maiden - the lesson being that she is her own knight, her own salvation!

It’s a very powerful meta-textual thread that exists between these three characters. They all fit into a wider narrative about fantasy and how it can live on, whether played straight or twisted a little crooked. So Sansa doesn’t have to be an overt in-universe parallel to Lyanna because that’s just not her role in the story. And I personally don’t think any “similarities” they have are actually important to Sansa as a person or to Jon because let’s face it, Lyanna’s primary (and most important) role is to be Jon’s mother and everything else informs on that. But both these women (and Jon) can be meta twinsies based on how they fit into GRRM’s wider narrative goals.

[catofoldstones]

The Ashford Theory and my patience running thin

Welcome, welcome my guys, gals and non-binary pals, to another scream into the void that the Ashford theory is, in fact, very jonsa

On to the arguments!

1. The suitor has to have the correct last name, not family, look at Joffrey Baratheon, you stupid jonsa

Hypothesis - the suitor has to have the corresponding name, not family, and because Jon is a Snow he’s out of the running. The other prong is fAegon who is actually a Blackfyre and not Targeryen, who can also be the suitor.

Thesis - Joffrey is the only other suitor to have a different name. Joffrey and Jon have also been set up as foils from the start of AGOT. Joffrey is a bastard masquerading as the rightful king and Jon is the rightful king (thrice crowned) masquerading as a bastard. It makes sense that they are the only two suitors to have the wrong name as this establishes them as inverses in another way. The last suitor being the foil of the horrible first suitor thereby showing character growth, and plot progression and resolution? Count me in.

As for Young Griff being a Blackfyre, here’s a meta or two, maybe even an argument, for him being the real Aegon VI Targaryen but take my personal fav evidences of Tyrion figuring out that Young Griff is Aegon VI Targaryen and then, Varys literally telling a dying Kevan Lannister about the true Targaryen prince and why would you lie to a dying man? How does that serve your purpose?

This is literally grrm telling us who Young Griff actually is, though this does not count him I out of the contenders, it reduces the weight of him being the fifth suitor, due to story arcs and well, his doomed fate.

Conclusion - While Aegon VI is a strong contender, there is much, much more literary weight and nuance with Jon being the Targaryen suitor.

2. Lady Ashford was not crowned the Queen of Love and Beauty by any champion!!! Take that jonsas

Hypothesis - tQoLaB is a title analogous to a betrothal/love interest

Thesis - there have been no allusions to the title of tQoLaB while trying to foreshadow a relationship, except for a really, really bad one (r + l) that plunged the whole realm into a civil war and we should not take that as a good sign

Conclusion - we’re grasping at straws here besties

3. Dunk disrupted the Ashford Tourney, therefore Sxndxr will disrupt Sansa’s prospects and other things

Hypothesis - Dunk & Sxndxr are are analogous and since there was no conclusion to the Tourney we can safely assume that it’s sxnsxn foreshadowing

Thesis - Brienne is the Dunk asoiaf corollary, not Sxndxr. Brienne is theorized to be Dunk’s descendant. She even has her shield painted like Dunk’s, apart from their striking character parallels and being a true foil to all the other knights in the story. Mr. Gravedigger is just tall :/

“Your door reminded me of an old shield I once saw in my father’s armory.”

Brienne II, AFFC

Brienne has Dunk’s shield in her family home possibly because she’s a descendant of Dunk but then goes ahead and gets her shield painted exactly like this one

“[The painted shield] was more a picture than a proper coat of arms, and the sight of it took her back through the long years, to the cool dark of her father’s armory. She remembered how she’d run her fingertips across the cracked and fading paint, over the green leaves of the tree, and along the path of the falling star.”

Brienne II, AFFC

Secondly, just because the tourney did not have a (satisfactory) conclusion does not mean that the tourney did not exist to serve a purpose. I doubt grrm would likely give out his whole story as early as 1998.

Conclusion - BRIENSA 4eva!!!!!

4. Valarr Targaryen died of a sickness and Aegon VI is doomed to die and is connected to a sickness, are you looking at the nerves popping out of my thick, brainy skull

Thesis - the fifth suitor is 100% Aegon and there’s no one else

Hypothesis - there is a Targaryen.. currently dead.. in the books… (thnk u @istumpysk for ur galaxy brain). The plague in the story serves to connects Aegon more to Dany than to a northern girl he doesn’t know about and might not like since she’s a Stark and his mother is Elia Martell.

Conclusion - jonsa

5. This is all a coincidence & u jonsas are reaching as always

Hypothesis - though george is known to tie every deep end, every crack theory, even farfetched ones that the readers have not caught, this one thing completely skipped his notice because exceptions are always there

Thesis - yes, because this is acotar & not asoiaf and he’s not grrm, i am

Conclusion - JONSAAAAAAAAAAAA