#robb x myrcella

[bigbadbruin343]

Robb x Myrcella AU by chillyravenart.

Gray Wind just be wondering why he’s even there.

Source.

[sweetaprilbutterfly]

Robb Stark and Myrcella Baratheon

[chic-beyond-the-wall]

What Myrcella Baratheon would wear

(Ziad Nakad, Fall 2019)

October 29th

[billy-hargrooves]

Do you have Robcella fanfics? I’m a desperate junkie.

Hey,

I'm so sorry that it took me so long to get back to you, but my Tumblr is glitiching for a while now and I only saw your ask and a few other asks today.

Here are 3 of my most fave fics, hope you like them. Haven't read them in a while though but I liked them very much back then.

1) Heliotrope

2) I Fear No Fate (For You Are My Fate, My Sweet)

3) Sunlight on fresh snow

[alleyskywalker]

NEW FIC: To End in Union (Robb/Myrcella)

Title: To End In Union Fandom: A Song of Ice and Fire Characters/Pairings: Robb/Myrcella Rating: PG Word Count: 1,327 Summary: The war has gone on for years, but now it is coming to an end, even as a greater war is shaping up in the North. Robb Stark holds a parlay before beginning his assault on King's Landing and gets far more than he bargained for.

Read on AO3

[uluthrek]

au in which robert, the starks and the lannisters play monopoly instead of going hunting and pushing each other‘s kids from towers.

tyrion implements a tax system to make things more interesting and fights cersei over the cat for a solid ten minutes.

around thirty minutes into the game, catelyn realizes that she has free will and stops paying taxes.

arya and sansa haggle over new york avenue, which ends up being bought by theon. this causes the two to completely cast aside their differences, ally and subsequently start doing everything in their power to make theon‘s life hell.

theon himself is quite severely stoned the entire time throughout.

ned enters horrendous debt pretty much immediately and, after two hours of being financially sucked dry by both cersei and his tax evader of a wife, decides to just place his figurine in jail and never leave.

jon, playing the dog, controls the railroads and makes jaime, playing the ship, go completely broke within minutes. being beaten by a bastard and officially the first to lose the game makes jaime so mad he spends the rest of the evening perched on the family‘s ancestral armchair eating flaming hot cheetos and stifling sobs.

cersei is holding onto her last two dollars and her one house in atlantic avenue like a maniac and evades taxes like it‘s an olympic sport. she claims ownership of kentucky avenue on the grounds that red is her house‘s color at least twice. after three hours, she‘s consumed enough vintage red to kill a large mammal and keeps quoting the art of war. fascinatingly enough, she never goes completely broke.

robert, just as broke and drunk as his wife but not nearly as ferocious, proposes marriage for tax advantages to bran, who is in possession of the boardwalk and lets him dangle on his proposition for two rounds before accepting and feeling like a benevolent god.

sansa sees this and immediately proposes to arya, who accepts, only for them to be sued by their mother for public indecency („you‘re siblings, jesus christ!“). arya argues that this is just a game and that one could argue that robert‘s and bran‘s marital alliance is just as if not even more inappropriate, considering that bran is seven and robert thirtyseven. sansa countersues her mother for tax evasion, who promises she‘ll drop her lawsuit if her daughters let her keep hoarding perverse amounts of wealth. „love wins!“ arya says, which causes jaime, still perched on the armchair but now eating old nan‘s home made whiskey truffles, to hysterically sob. cersei stares him down.

robb, in a rare moment of almost prophetic foresight, excuses himself one hour in and goes on a very, VERY long walk with grey wind.

tyrion, whose tax system has spectacularly backfired in his face, proposes marriage to catelyn, jon and cersei in rapid succession, who all turn him down. „i wish i was the monster you think i am. i wish i had enough poison for the whole pack of you. i would gladly give my life to watch you all swallow it.“ he screams before he leaves the table.

at that, joffrey, who has refused to participate and instead sits on the couch playing doom on his nintendo ds, starts hysterically laughing. tyrion turns on his heel and awards his nephew with the bitchslap of the century. this causes cersei to completely abandon the game and chase after him with a broom. catelyn makes sure that everyone is distracted by the lannister antics and then reaches across the table and bags cersei‘s money and properties.

with a heavy heart, myrcella trades arya and sansa one of her limited edition bayala schleich unicorns for park place.

at this point, the game is between the tycoons that are catelyn and jon, the bran-robert alliance, the arya-sansa-alliance, and ned, who is still in jail and watching ice hockey on his phone under the table. that is when catelyn hears rickon gagging and discovers that he, in the absence of tyrion, the self declared bank manager, has managed to eat all bank notes from the box.

rickon gets his stomach pumped, cersei and tyrion have both been arrested, theon is still stoned, arya, sansa and myrcella have wandered off to go play schleich horses, and jon remains at the table, alone, content, and quietly considering himself the winner.

[dalekofchaos]

GRRM's original outline

Other what if scenarios that I ran out of space for. Add your own if it didn't make the cut

What if Lyanna lived and became Robert's Queen?

What if Myrcella was born first and was betrothed to Robb

What if Robb and Margaery are betrothed?

What if Rhaella survived childbirth with Daenerys?

What if Joanna Lannister didn't die in childbirth?

What if Arthur took Lyanna/Jon to Dragonstone and fled with Rhaella, Viserys and Dany and regrouped with Jon Connington?

Jamie took the throne for himself after killing Aerys?

What if Elia and her children escaped to Dorne?

What if Balon died instead of his sons?

What if Jon Arryn had a son and was raised with Ned and Robert?

What if Theon did what Asha recommended and kidnapped Bran and RIckon and burned Winterfell to the ground and this leads to Theon becoming the Iron Prince and a strong contender for the Kingsmoot.

What if Rhaegar and Robert died in the Trident and Ned became King?

What if Viserys met and married Arianne Martell?

What if Domeric Bolton lived and never met Ramsay?

What if Rhaenyra won The Dance Of The Dragons

What if Arya revealed herself to Roose Bolton

What if Rhaegar married Cersei instead of Elia?

What if Ned and his brothers talked sense into Robert and he swore off his ways to be good for Lyanna and Lyanna fought in the rebellion because Aerys kills her father and brother(because Southern Ambitions)

[itsgameofthronesimagines]

I'm not going to lie, I hope Cersei is suffering wondering how her daughter is doing in the hands of the enemy. Her character is well written (both by you and Martin) but gods, I hate her.

(Gif not mine)

‘Black of Hair’ Masterlist

Tag: black of hair got headcanon

A/N: Set sometime in the future, but I promise there is no spoilers for any future chapters. This is set in the future so Tyrion has enough time to return to King’s Landing as Acting Hand of the King and finally confront his sister. This takes place sometime after Tyrion sends Myrcella to Dorne.

Also based off of this conversation!

~~~

The warm afternoon air was ever prominent when Tyrion walked himself into the Queen's apartments, a slight skip in his step as he called out to his sister, "I've just received word from Dorne! Princess Myrcella has been safely delivered. Oberyn Martell promises you will be gifted plenty of letters from her whilst she is away."

Cersei glanced over at the small man from her sitting spot next to the open window, allowing the warm air in. The news did nothing but earn the constant scowl on her beautiful face to deepen, "It must please you to see me like this. A lonely mother, separated from her daughter."

Tyrion stopped only a few feet from her, his smile still visible despite how it thinned out in response to her words. He keeps his hands at his sides, rolling his fingers across his palms to relieve the urge to fidget, “It must be invigorating to blame others for what you have always done upon your kin your whole life."

She scoffed under her breath, rolling her eyes and turning back towards the window. Tyrion allows the silence to linger a bit longer, listening to the birds chirp outside before he took a step forward, "The other day, you said you wanted me to fall in love with a woman so that when I close my eyes, I see her face," Cersei turned back, one eyebrow rising along with the corner of her mouth as she allowed herself to reminisce her own words. Tyrion continued, eyes darkening as his facade begins to slip, "You wanted that for me so you could take her from me. Please enlighten me on how you could possibly hurt me that you haven’t already done a hundred times over.”

“A hundred? I lost count after a dozen," she sniped, reveling in the small flinch she caught flash over her brother's eyes, "Tell me, what have I done that’s worse than what I plan to do to the woman you love?”

“Isn’t it obvious? Why else would you send away your own beloved daughter if it wasn’t to harm me?"

"You didn't give me the choice of sending Myrcella away!" Her small bit of joy shattered, her inner viper lashing out at the very memory of sending her baby away, "Or have you forgotten?"

"It's rather baffling how a mother could lose count of all the infants she's pushed out of her body," Tyrion sniped back, an equally wry grin sprouting along with his sarcasm, "Please tell me you haven't forgotten that Myrcella was not your only daughter."

Silence fills the room again as Cersei's visceral reaction dims, returning to her usual bored scowl when she feels a lecture coming on. This only angers Tyrion further and the words spill out before he could stop them, "Y/n was sent away, too, and if you tried to place that blame on me as you do on everything else, I'm afraid you won't find any evidence other than the ones that point back to you. You know I love that girl."

With another roll of her eyes and Cersei suddenly stands, crossing the room to pour herself a drink as her brother mouths on and on, "I cherish her like she was my own and you knew that! You would and have done quite possibly everything in the book to bring me pain! You would even go as far as to marry your daughter off like some common whore! I only returned the favor by sending Myrcella away, since you clearly pick favorites!”

Like rubbing salt in a very painful wound, Cersei's grin becomes engraved in Tyrion's memory when she looked back over her shoulder at him, "You're not her father. You will never be her father. Learn your place or I will remind you of it."

"Let me remind you that I am the Hand of the King until Father's return," he snapped, "Speaking of fathers, I've noticed that your children have been lacking in some of late, especially for Y/n. It's not like you've ever let Jaime treat her like his own."

Cersei's eyes darken, "Watch your words--"

"And we both know that Robert nursed his cups more than his children. Someone had to be a parent to sweet little Y/n and I wasn't exactly placing my bets on the woman who birthed her. Admit that you never loved her! Admit that you were desperate to be rid of her! That you wanted nothing more than to send her as far away as you possibly could so that you can have your three beautiful golden-haired angels all to yourself! You would have done anything and you did! You sent Y/n North to marry a Stark! You sold her into the same slavery Father sold you! You sent her to a life that promises nothing but the birthing bed for her! You sent her away to be enslaved and bred because you never loved her!"

“I’ll have your tongue for that!” But instead of pursuing her threat, Cersei began to walk away, holding a hand to her lips as she made her retreat.

“That’s what you’ve always told everyone, right?” Tyrion’s voice cracked under pressure, stomping after his sister like an angry child, desperate for attention, only raising his voice whenever she didn’t appear to hear him, “‘Love no one but your children. Love no one but your children. No one but your children. No one but your children. Your. Children!’ Did you somehow forget that Y/n was your firstborn child?! Tell me when exactly did you realize the enemy -that you enraged by letting your son lop off Ned Stark's head- now possesses your dearly beloved daughter? Was it before or after I took Myrcella from you?"

A resounding slap is heard across the room as Tyrion stumbles back, words cut short as his hand flies up to his face. Pulling the hand away, he observed a small speck of blood drawn from his left cheek, his rage dissolving as he listened to the Queen's ragged breath. Peering up through his golden locks, he carefully watched Cersei's expression, catching that familiar rage and wild look behind her green eyes, like a caged lioness.

Cersei's breaths were spiraling, chest moving rapidly to regain a small bit of air. In a way, the slap was a small bit of a relief for her, allowing it to pour her emotions into the action itself as she watched the tiny little fingernail scratches now adorning her little brother's face. Her lips nearly turned up into a smile as she spoke, “The more people you love, the weaker you are, dear brother. You’ll do things for them that you know you shouldn’t do. You’ll act the fool to make them happy, to keep them safe.”

Tyrion huffed, shaking his head in disbelief, flicking his wrist to dry the blood on his hand, “Are you trying to tell me that you did all of this because you love Y/n? Because you wanted to keep her safe? Or are you trying to tell me that you couldn’t have possibly loved her because it only made you weak?”

She appeared as though she was going to answer, only for the curtain to close once more behind her eyes. She straightened her posture back out, becoming the regal queen she had fooled everyone into believing she was, everyone but her brother, “If you can’t figure it out yourself, then you don’t deserve the answer.”

~~~

A/N: Yes, I took a piece of Cerisei and Sansa’s conversation and used to it to my advantage. 

[lychiiie]

Beard is not my everyday drawing so yeah it's kinda screw up...

But thanks to @winterrose527 and your robbcella fics, I can't help but draw Robb ASAP

[crazysleepydreams]

REUNION

Hey Ppl! I know that this chapter took some time, but I was done with a lot of love and many talks insued with my beta about it so I'll give you guys a info dump about this chapter. Thanking both @albinokittens300 and elliecat78 my Beta.

AGES:

Arya, Bran and Sansa - 13 y.o. Tyrion - almost 18 Jamie - 29 almost 30 Cercei - 28 Tommen - 4 Myrcella - 3 Robb - 19 (so, Robb is about one year older than Tyrion) Jon - 20

SOULMARKS:

If the soulmark is on the dominant hand its a romantic mark. If the soulmark is on the non-dominant hand its a platonic mark. And the marks present, as in that's def a soulmark, are always romantic.

As for the shapes and colors:  in my mind, soulmarks are connected to each other. So colors representing what the soulmates felt for each other, the colors on your skin represent your soulmates feelings for you or even their qualities.  The form of the mark represents: qualities of the mates and even identifications that either they ID with or the other Ids them with. But the soulmarks also reflect what the other half felt: So there comes the play of ash colored mark, if you were the rejected one our soul got to bear that scar and even if it can show the mark you will never see the colors of what your soulmate felt for you, a defence mechanism maybe? And so if you where the one rejecting your other half the outer part of the mark and colors won't fade into ur skin, but it would become smokey and ash colored: representing the severed bond.

REUNION PT3: GROWING UP STARKS.

Catelyn and Ned looked at their growing twins in silence while the worry ate them alive. The twins had grown closer after that dreadful night five years ago: they had grown closer due to their shared guilt and soulmate. They both wore wristbands, the world thought that Sansa wore one because she had realized how intimate her mark truly was and how dangerous it could be if nefarious people knew what her mark was and that Bran simply had one to commiserate, but while it was somehow truthful it was also wrong. Sansa was ashamed of the actions of her past self and couldn’t look at her mark without feeling bad and Brandon was very protective and to some point possessive of their soulmate.

All in all they were growing up well, healthy and happy. Their parents could only be proud of their children - since the incident they had grown closer and could often be found talking to each other about things none, but they understood and about their soulmate: their crowned lion they called him. Sansa was more considerate of others and their differences while Bran had calmed a lot and had grown wiser than his years, both were sure they would find their lion and fix the mess their past selves made… But as parents Ned and Catelyn couldn’t help but fear what the two would do if their lion wasn’t as forgiving as they remembered: it was after all another lifetime and in this one his mark must have told him daily that he wasn’t worthy. How could they help their children with something like that? And could they really hate or blame their soulmate if he rejected them this time? What would they all do if he only forgave one of them? 

Some days they just wished that their children had never been born with a soulmark and others they prayed to the gods that may listen for them to never find their soulmate. They knew that their wishes were unkind, both for the twins and their as yet unknown soulmate.

Most of the time it was easy to forget that they even had a mark and they liked to pretend that the twins were simply like all other people, but it wasn’t always the case.

It was a nice Spring evening when Lord Robert Baratheon, Neds best friend from middle school all the way up to college, was visiting Winterfell with his young wife Lady Cersei Baratheon nee Lannister, age twenty-eight, their children Tommen and Myrcella, four and three respectively, who were born only ten months apart so in the North they would have been known as Skaggosi twins. All the Starks were there to welcome Roberth, even Lyanna (who had a history with the flirty man) with Aegon and Benjen with his wife Asha and Arya were there for a visit during the long vacation before another school year started. 

This year Robb, by then nineteen years old, would start his first year at Kings Landings University making his parents proud. He would be Aegon’s flatmate. Aegon, at twenty, who also attended KLU, was in his second year of his Sociology mayor and getting started in his Arts minor, lived in a flat in one of the better places of the city and as his last flatmate had graduated, had been about to hunt for a new flatmate when Robb texted him all about how he got accepted into KLU for his Bachelor degree in engineering. So the time they would spend together at Winterfell they would put to good use to see exactly how compatible they were in living together. Sansa, Bran and Arya, all at age of thirteen, couldn’t wait for their last year in middle school to start and make that big jump toward high school.

The evening was progressing rather well: the families started to get to know each other and shared a nice ambience until just after dinner when Cersei noticed the wristbands on the twins.

“Is it me or do the two of you have soulmarks?” asked Cersei in a bitter tone, raising an eyebrow, causing the twins to lose confidence in themselves and making them lower their marked arms. “You know, I have a younger cousin that has one: I hate him. So full of himself, he believes himself to be so very clever and all my family just adores him. I believe he is just a freak of nature… he is so abnormal! My aunt and uncle are probably the only ones in this world who have seen his mark; they covered it immediately! And the way his eyes gleam… he isn’t natural, but the two of you seem pretty normal to me.”

“Cersei, dear, you know better than most that it is bad manners to inquire about soulmarks so openly. And I really don’t know what you have against the kid, Rider has never acted the way you describe him to and even our kids adore him!” scolded Robert, feeling embarrassed by her. He felt thankful when Robb went out of his way to save him even if he knew that the young man only did so for his siblings. 

“While you are right, Uncle Robert, we are all family here,” at this Robb took a moment to smile benevolently at Cersei. “Aunt Cersei, as one your cousins has a mark, you must be aware just how special the soulmarks are to those who have one, so when Sansa decided that she wanted to cover hers, Bran, being a good twin brother, decided that he would use a wristband himself as a show of support and all of us have worn one at one time or another,” Said Robb, looking at the blond with cold eyes before he returned to normal. 

“Do they have their marks on different sides then?” Asked Cersei and no one really wanted to go into details on that. The family had decided that they would keep the special circumstances of the twins to themselves: a shared soulmate was almost unheard of, even if Bran’s mark indicated a platonic connection. Marks for the same soulmate happened, but they were much more rare than even the platonic soulmarks and the twins didn’t need the world looking into their lives. 

“My sister has a romantic soulmate, while I have a platonic one, if you must know,” Answered Bran with some hostility. He didn’t know why, but he was starting to feel hatred towards the woman and his instincts basically screamed at him to hide, to get away. And he knew from the look in her eyes that Sansa felt the same, his mark burned up for a moment not painfully or anything it just made him feel warm and safe before it returned to its normal state: it was simply there a weight that grounded him.

“Hey, buddy, do you want us to find some things for you to play with?” Asked Aegon, who was sitting next to Tommen. He wanted to diminish this potential disaster and was happy when the young boy nodded happily. “Bran, Sansa, do you think you two can help me look for something he can play with: like those oversized baby-proof Legos?” He asked the twins as he stood up, giving them an excuse to leave the room.

“You mean Duplo, Jon?” Teased Bran as he and Sansa stood up.

“I remember where we put them in the attic, but I’ll need you guys to do some lifting.” Said Sansa with a smile to the boys, happy to be able to leave the room under a reasonable pretense. The way that woman Cersei talked about her, going by uncle Robert's use of the word kid, younger cousin left her uncomfortable… It seemed like she was a hateful and jealous woman.

Later that night Aegon and Robb had excused themselves from the company to play video games and Arya had happily followed her older cousins. Tommen had been put to bed hours ago after he had played some with the duplo Aegon brought back with him, Myrcella had been put to bed before dinner and the twins had disappeared after going to the attic. Lyanna, Asha and Catelyn were doing their best to include Cersei in their conversation, leaving Benjen, Ned and Robert in Ned's study to have some drinks.

“I’m really sorry for that, Ned, I had no idea Cersei would react that way! Hell, I thought that she would know the right etiquette around marked people or at the very least know which things not to ask!” Exclaimed Robert agitated.

“I’m not blaming you. Rest assured, Robert, many people who should know better always ask questions or make comments. That is nothing new, what is new is that a person who admits to having such a close relation to a marked person to say something like that.” replied Ned looking at his drink. He wanted his friend's visit to be over. He started to dislike Robert’s new wife - when he met her at the wedding she didn’t seem so petty.

“What did ya call the cousin, Rider? What kind of name is that? And is he really that strange? She made it out like he was some kind of twisted guy,” Said Benjen.

“Rider is the nickname I gave the kid: he seems happy with it,” Shrugged Robert before continuing. “And yeah I’ll admit that the kid is strange. He is absolutely obsessed with dragons and Old Valyria; hell, he can even read and speak High Valyrian. Not Braavosi or some similar language, but, honest to god, High Valyrian like those scholars that spend their lives dedicated to the study of the Empire. But I suppose that as a marked soul one might expect him to have his things, but Tion is a great kid: not sure what Cersei has against the boy.”

“So he is basically a normal kid with a soulmark that loves dragons and the history of Valyria a bit too much, is what you are saying?” Asked Ned. He was dying to ask his best friend for more information about the boy and his soulmark but would refrain from doing so.

“As normal as he’ll get I’d say.” Responded Robert before finishing his drink.

“What does his mark look like?” Asked Benjen, not having any reservations, even though this type of personal question was frowned upon. “And what is his take on having a soulmark?” This caused both Ned and Robert to almost choke on their drink.

“Benjen!” Roared Ned.

“I’ve no clue what his mark looks like. As much as the kid might like me, he wouldn’t share something so private with the husband of his cousin! He ain’t like those kids that publish their mark online in hopes to find their soulmate or something, he reminds me more of Aegon,  Lyanna’s kid, if you want a personality comparison. And as for his take on soulmarks, I’ve got no freaking clue: the kid has enough issues with his memories-dreams, I take, seeing as he goes to therapy for it.”

“Therapy? Ain’t that a bit extreme?” Asked Ned who knew that the soulmark dreams could be difficult, but he never expected anyone needing therapy for that. Why didn’t the boy speak with his parents about them?

“Normally I’d agree with you on it, Ned, but you haven’t met the kid... I dunno what he went through in his last life, but the gods can be cruel. The kid does suffer from PTSD, so I’d say the therapy has more to do with that than with the soulmark. When we stayed with them last month he had a full blown episode: it was heartbreaking, his mother was able to get him through it, but he didn’t know where he was after he woke from a nap…”

At this the tree men stayed in silence all contemplating different things. Robert was reliving how the gentle, happy smiling kid that took his kids as uncle, went to nap and a haggard soul woke up screaming something unintelligible. Eddard was thanking the gods that neither of his kids suffered from memories intense enough to put them in therapy and Benjen was wondering how a simple reunion could end on such a tone...

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Brandon and Sansa were happy to leave the adults and stay in their shared living room talking together before they did some of the homework their teachers had given them for the break to distract themselves from the events that had transpired that evening. 

"So you wanna talk about it?" Asked Bran looking at his sister with concern.

"About Uncle Robert's wife bashing her cousin for no other reason than him having a soulmark and her being petty? No, I'd rather forget," was Sansa's dignified answer. Bran knew that something was troubling her, but decided to let it be as she would come to him when she felt like talking about it. 

While his sister started to get her table ready for the homework, he was more than happy to take his wristband off and trace his soulmark for a while. Bran loved the peace tracing it brought him: it was as if in those moments it was just him and the mark, in those moments he felt as if he were in the presence of Tyrion's shadow or one of his hugs and all the comfort that that brought him. He didn't know how much time had passed; as he was tracing the crown on the head of the lion - a mocking reminder to him that he and Sansa had only been crowned because of his abdication, somewhere far away in the Westerlands a dark strawberry blond haired young man in his late teens fell asleep while reading a book about philosophy on a couch as a feeling of peace fell over him: causing his mother to grab a blanket and put the book on a coffee table.

"Why do you always do that?" asked his sister, with curiosity coloring her voice.

"Do what?" Bran asked absentmindedly.

"Trace your soulmark? You do it when you are feeling edgy or frustrated or in any way overstimulated really, but you also do it just so, for no apparent reason," clarified Sansa. At this Bran tilted his head.

"I trace it because it brings me peace of mind, if I trace it long enough I can almost feel as if Tyrion stood right next to me," explained Bran, causing Sansa to frown. "Don't you ever trace it until you relax? Until it's just you and the soulmark?" Now it was Bran who became curious.

"Well, I do trace it from time to time, but mostly I do so when I feel guilty, and then it burns and for a moment I feel kind of like  back as I did when we were married, safe and protected as if no one could harm me… not even I and my worries just disappear, just without all the resentment. There are also days when it just burns suddenly and fills me with a crippling guilt, anxiety, resignation or simply makes me feel lost; but most of the time the mark simply is and feels like a weight reminding me that it's there: as if it doesn't expect anything." After she said this, Sansa's eyes opened wide. "OMG you're right! The mark is almost a shadow of Tyrion: always there without expecting anything, which is comforting and also disturbing."

After this, the silence returned to the room and Bran’s mind went into overdrive. He started looking at his homework, but in truth he was just staring at the pages frankly, not really seeing them. 

"Why do you think the mark just starts burning suddenly? Does yours do it too?" asked Sansa.

"Aye, some days it does… but most of the time it is to answer or to balance my own feelings." said Bran with a thoughtful look on his face. "Maybe when we are distressed and our marks burn out of nowhere with peaceful feelings, it isn't really out of nowhere, maybe it's Tyrion who sends those feelings." Theorized Bran.

"And when my mark starts burning with those nasty feelings? Does yours ever do it, too?" asked Sansa, fearing her brother had come to the same conclusion as her.

"Aye, mine does so sometimes as well… It leaves me trying to find my footing again from all the intensity, even if it does happen seldom. The last time it happened was last month: I felt all those feelings you mentioned and then I felt the need to sleep a whole week. Maybe those are Tyrion's feelings?" asked Bran with a grimace. "Have you ever thought of sending positive feelings in those moments or thinking of good things?" asked Bran guiltily; Sansa just shook her head. "Me neither…."

"We aren't sure that Tyrion sends those peaceful feelings our way in a conscious way… so there is no way of knowing if what we do or don't in those moments does or doesn't affect him, but we can promise to do better next time." Said Sansa looking her twin in the eye who nodded with resolve in his eyes. "Let's do our homework…."

"Let's, but I gotta say that the mark burning before flooding us with foreigh feelings sucks as a warning system…" Concluded Bran.

About an hour after the conversation they were finishing their homework, filled with a burning desire to start their research anew and find Tyrion, when someone knocked on their door.

“Come in.” called Bran after getting a nod from Sansa, while he began to arrange his books and his sister started pulling up their corkboard along with their research.

“Hey, guys, may I come in for a few?” asked their cousin Arya. The twins looked confused, but nodded.

“Sure, come in and grab yourself a beanbag." said Sansa while Bran went to grab their beanbags.

Arya smiled at the twins gratefully before doing so and sitting down with them, Bran opened a mini fridge and offered both Sansa and Arya a soda, both accepted. They sat in silence for a while each doing their own thing until Arya broke it.

“Do you guys know what the fuck that was? I mean, I gotta admit that I disliked you, Sansa, when we were kids: you being the perfect picture of a lady and having a twin and a soulmark and bragging about it! It didn’t help that you never wanted to play the same games I wanted to play, but the bitching that woman did was on a whole new level! What could her cousin have done to make her so hateful towards him?” Exclaimed Arya out of the blue, not taking the silence any longer, causing Bran to drop the ball he had been playing with and making the twins look at her.

“I just want you to know: both of you, that I don’t think you guys are freaks of nature or abnormal or something like that… maybe you guys are a little strange, but who isn’t! Plus, what is normal when there are people walking around having soulmarks! People who can connect so deeply with an animal that they can possess it! When there are still reports of dragon sightings in Essos close to the Valyrian sea?” Bran and Sansa looked at each other and did that stupid twin thing they usually did before Bran spoke up.

“We never believed you thought we were freaks: well, bigger freaks than we are I mean." said Bran with a smile causing Arya to scowl at him and Sansa hit him on his shoulder before taking over the talking.

“Thank you, Arya, for your support, but what do you say: haters shall be haters? I think that applies well in this case. I don’t believe that her cousin did anything for her to really hate him, but it seems to me that Cersei is a shallow, jealous and petty woman who hasn’t outgrown her resentment for not having a soulmark while her cousin has one. We know you never thought us abnormal and I know that our enmity during our childhood is partly my fault. I was pretty full of myself wasn’t I?” Asked Sansa with a smile; Arya returned the smile and relaxed.

“So what are you, double trouble, up to? Have you guys already found any clues about your soulmate? And I promised myself I’d never ask, but how do you guys feel about that?” Asked Arya.

“We are making progress in our research, well, at least partially we have read all historical indications about all three of us, but we might need to open up another line of thinking as our research is hitting a wall at this moment,” answered Bran. “As for us having the same soulmate, I believe we might differ on our feelings, but seeing as our soul bonds are essentially different I have no problems with it: I love him and Sansa does love him too, we just love him differently: only one of us would snog him and that one isn’t me.” This caused Arya to laugh as Sansa turned redder than a tomato. “Not that I wouldn’t be happy to do almost anything else with him...”Finished explaining Bran in his almost detached way.

“I agree with Bran, even if I’d have used other words,” Said Sansa.

“So why are you getting nowhere with your research?” Asked Arya.

“We might need to broaden our search to some new things we hadn’t thought about yet: wanna help us?” Asked Bran.

“Sure. What do you guys need me to do?” Asked Arya, opening a laptop that belonged to one of the twins.

“Search for anyone named Tyrion and look for anything that might come close to scandal-worthy behavior,” Answered Sansa with an impish smile.

“For real?” Asked the shocked girl.

“Yes from what we remember, and we asuming that personality wise he hasn’t changed much, he used to get into some crazy stuff… boardline suicidal stuff.” Explained Sansa with a grimace.

“Please don’t ask, just do,” Saiid Bran, not really feeling like getting into a long winded explanation while he continued their previous line of search. The possibility of both him and Sansa staying Starks, keeping their first names and having the same father, in name and titles at least, while their soulmate wasn’t even a Lannister didn’t add up to him, the chances of that happening were close to none! So he wasn’t giving up yet.

“So, Sansa, have you given Ashton’s proposition a thought?” asked Bran while he was busy trying to distract the three of them.

“Bran, we are thirteen, I have a soulmate and if I ever date before finding him it won’t be with Ashton Stone, nor will it be at this age!” Exclaimed Sansa, throwing a ball at her brother who just gave a cheeky smile while their cousin laughed.

So I'm not sure how many chapters this story will get: I don't think it will get more than 10 tbh... I hope u enjoyed it!

[west1rosi]

Do you have any ships in mind for your muses?

not exactly. I mean sure, but i'm also a multishipper and i'm down to ship almost anything (canon x oc or canon x canon) like me and my bestie mari began writing margaer.y and jon as just a fun political thing and now i ship it to life. so it's just a question of talking but more importantly, see if chemistry works .

[axelsagewrites]

Hey there just m back again with a request where it’s cerisi and roberts daughter who’s married to Robb. Can it be it’s after the red wedding she survived and she spent her time hinting those who participated in the red wedding but she gets brutally killed and somehow like whoever did it brings her corpse to Cersi and her reaction and maybe Tyrion reacting to the news too as he was quite close to her

Robb Stark*Don't Die For Me

Pairing: Robb x Baratheon!F!Reader

Word count: 3638

Warnings: the red wedding, robb dying, cat dying, reader dying, description of war/injuries, pregnancy, angst

Masterlist Here

The gown was made from thick snow-white wool, trimmed with a soft grey wolf fur with streaks of black. Stag horns were embroidered along the cuffs, yellow gold fastenings holding it together. Lannister red hearts were hand stitched by Myrcella around the hem of the dress. It was warm and thick and span out like a dancer’s dress whenever you twirled.

People gasped when they saw you enter the gods wood, arms linked with your father as you approached your husband. Robb wore simpler clothes with a heavy fur cloak over his shoulders that he would soon drape over your frame.

Sansa watched the wedding doe eyed and Catelyn felt her eyes grow wet at the sight of her son, smiling down at his betrothed as they made their union promise. The king tried to look stoic, clearing his throat umpteen times to keep his tears back. Tyrion stood front row, much to your mother’s dismay and wearing the beaming smile you would have expected from a mother.

Your mother stood stoned face as she watched, smiling when looked at by anyone but you. she gave you a knowing look. “He will be your husband. Nothing more. He will share your bed, but you will have separate chambers. he will tell you how to act. You must listen when he is there. You must choose your battles and the most important ones will be what comes out between your legs,” her lessons rang in your ears when you had met Robb for the first time.

You knew she wanted to protect you the way she thought she needed to. To her Robb was a stranger, a threat, the captor of her daughter, the thief in the north, the unknown. What she did not know was the way Robb softly stroked his fingers over your cheeks when he held you or how he rubbed his hands over yours to warm them.

She didn’t notice how he would let you walk in front and was happy to follow behind. She didn’t notice how grey wind went to protect you when someone stepped out of line. She didn’t notice the lingering glances or the way his hands held yours a moment too long once the dance had stopped. She didn’t notice. She didn’t want to hope.

You however had noticed his affection for you. you noticed how his cheeks tinged pink when he helped you on your horse or how he laughed loudly at jokes he barely understood. You noticed he would reach for his sword when a stranger approached or how he smiled when you walked in the room. The same dopey smile he wore when he swore to protect you.

The ceremony had been beautiful, done in front of the heart tree as you pledged to the old gods and new. When you arrived at the feast it was already filled with excitement as the south and north began to mix. You danced first with Robb then each of his sisters then his brothers, including Jon who had been nervous to take the floor with you, but you had insisted.

You danced with your father who choked out a teary piece of advice. “Never forget you are my daughter. When you need me, you’ll have me,” he told you privately on the dance floor. While he trusted ned with all his heart you knew he would miss you.

You danced with your siblings, even convincing Joffrey to join you. Your mother stayed sat in her chair all night, but you made sure to talk to her even if you could see the nerves behind her eyes. Your uncle Jamie gave you a tight-lipped smile but not much more while your uncle Tyrion was only two drinks down and already very excited.

“My little niece has gotten married,” He proclaimed loudly as you approached his table and laughed at his state, “Oh how my heart breaks. Stolen away by some northern heathens,”

“Now, now uncle,” you said as you sat down at the table, stealing a glass of wine, “You can’t get rid of me that easy. You shall visit me,”

“Shall I?” he fakes pondered as he poured himself a fresh drink, “The north is too cold for me sweet niece,”

You hummed a laugh as you clinked your glasses, “I’m sure I will find you a warm enough room. After all I am your favourite,” you grinned making him laugh as you continued the festivities. You however had no idea the next time you saw your uncle it would be on such a sour note.

It was only the week after your wedding that Bran had fallen from the window however you knew he hadn’t fallen from the look on your mother’s face alone. As soon as the Queen had left you told Robb your suspicions, but they fell on deaf ears. You tried to ignore the growing pit in your stomach the day your father had left, Ned joining him in the south, but you just knew. You just knew.

The war came quick, and it came hard. The only reason Winterfell had so quickly rebuilt their supplies was at your instruction. Robbs men had suggested you stay behind to guard Winterfell, war was no place for a wife, but when you told Robb you wanted to come, he agreed with no hesitation. He’d seen the way you could shoot a bow and was even frightened when he saw how you swung a sword.

You had been trained by the hound after all amongst many other swords masters. Barristan Selmy had even given you a few tips. Your father had arranged the lessons, insisting no daughter of his would go down without a fight. Your mother had taught you other lessons. Poisons and daggers and knives disguised in rings. You knew how to survive. You knew how to fight.

Maybe you should have stayed behind. It was a thought that plagued your mind the moment you left and cursed you when you released what Theon had done. Robb assured you it was not your fault. Catelyn had said no one man could hold a castle by themselves. But what if you could have?

Walder Frey was your next big problem. He tried to convince Catelyn your marriage was just an inconvenience to a new alliance, but a Stark keeps their oath. Soon you had to break the bad news to Edmure Tully of his pending nuptials to a Frey girl.

Despite everything you had hope. Not once had you lost a battle. Not one. You charged in on horseback, Robb leading the front and you fighting with those at the back. Grey wind charged into battle first, but it did not take long for you to spot him on the battlefield. However, Robb had insisted on one thing.

Each time you joined him on battle you were dressed as a man with a helmet covering your face. He couldn’t risk Tywin knowing you were on the field. After all, if your siblings were bastards that made you the rightful queen of the seven, now six, kingdoms.

“I just have a bad feeling about this,” you told Robb as he helped lace you into your dress before Edmures wedding.

Robb sighed as he finished up the ties before turning you to face him, “You know I would never let anything happen to you,” he said, his fingers stroking over your cheek.

You kissed the palm of his hand, enjoying his touch for just a moment, “I know but I worry,”

“We can worry tomorrow,” Robb said, kissing your forehead as he held your face softly in his hands, “but for now we can take pause. Even a Frey would not defile guest rights,”

When grey wind refused to enter the Twins, you almost dragged Robb away right then and there. However, Cat and Robb insisted everything would be alright. You believed them. Well, you wanted to. You tried to believe them.

“My king has married, and I owe my new queen a wedding gift,” Walder began to say as you stood from your chair, a practised smile on your face as you moved to stand beside Robb. Before you could reach him, chairs scrapped against stone floors as Cateleyn slapped Roose Bolton.

“Robb,” she cried as Roose climbed from his chair. You tried to grab Robbs hand, to grab him and run, your hand already reaching for the dagger you had hidden. However, before you could grab its handle you felt a hand wrap about your wrist, yanking you back harshly.

Your fingers were just brushing Robbs hand when you were pulled back into the chest of Roose Bolton, his arm trapping you to his chest. Your nails sunk into his wrist, desperately trying to pull yourself out of his grip as Roose picked you up and began to drag you away to the side.

“Robb,” you cried out. You felt your heart racing, your eyes searching for where Robb was stood as arrows got set loose on the Stark men, your men. You tried to pry yourself free as your men were slaughtered by crossbows and daggers.

When the first arrow hit Robb you screamed, a guttural scream that pierced even your own ears as you felt your stomach lurch. You twisted in Rooses grip, turning your head to sink your teeth down onto his nose making him cry out in pain. he let you go out of instinct, and you quickly ran to where Robb lay as an arrow hit cat in the shoulder, knocking her to the ground.

“Run,” Robb said, his voice low almost a whisper as he tried to pull himself to his feet, “Don’t stop for me,” he said through gritted teeth, but your hand reached for his. “Go!” he almost yelled but you could see the pain in his eyes, “its too late for me,” he grunted, and your eyes fell to where he was looking.

You felt yourself grow sick at the sight of an arrow tip sticking out his stomach. It had gone through between his ribs, and you could see the thick blood dripping off its end onto the stone floor. “I can’t leave you,” you whispered as you stood, pulling him with you.

Your eyes scanned the room. There was no where to go. No bargain to offer no clear way to run. Your eyes fell to Catelyn who had crawled under a table nearby. You could see the fear in her eyes. Your own eyes turned to Robb who tried his best to stand. “Go,” he begged, “Don’t die for me,” he whispered, a tear rolling down his face as he pushed your hand away, but you clung on tighter, “I love you too much to see you die,”

“I love you too,” you tried to say but it came out as broken whimpers, “Theres no way for me to run,”

“Lord Walder!” Cats voice was the only thing to drag your eyes from your husband as you watched his mother hold a knife to a girl of no more than twelves throat, “Let it end, please. he is my son,” she begged.

You could see Robbs skin start to sweat, the colour draining from his face. You felt a tear fall down your cheek when you realised, he was dying. Robb had realised it too as his clammy hands moved to softly hold your cheeks as you kneeled together on the ground. Your hands reached for his face, stroking your thumb over his cheek.

“Take me for a hostage,” Catelyn cried, “Take her. she is the princess. Think of how much you could get!” she cried as Robb shuffled closer to you, his head moving to lean against yours. you ignored Catelyn’s pleas, ignored the way she tried to trade you for her son. You would have offered yourself too for Robb if not for the blood you could see at the corner of his mouth.

“Get up and walk out,” Catelyn begged Robb but he ignored her. you weren’t sure if he could even hear her. his face shuffled forwards, his lips softly brushing against yours. you tried to ignore the metallic taste as his blood tainted your final kiss. Tried to ignore Catelyn’s cries. Tried to ignore the feeling of Robbs skin growing cold beneath your fingertips.

You screamed when he was ripped from your arms. When your eyes looked up through the tears you saw Roose Bolton holding Robb, blood dripping still from where your teeth had sunk in. Robb looked to Cat, “Mother,” he mumbled making her let out a sob. His eyes turned to yours, looking down at your filled with regret, “Wife,” was the last word that left his lips before a gasp when Roose Boltons dagger sunk into his chest.

“The Lannister’s send their regards,” you heard him whisper and you lunged for him only to be pulled back by yet another one of the Frey men.

“Take her to the kennels for the night. Her mother wants to see her,” Walder Frey called out as one of his sons dragged you out the room.

You let your body go limp as you listened to Catelyn’s scream echo the once happy hall. You let yourself be dragged, acting as if you could not walk. Tears streamed down your cheeks, but you didn’t have to pretend to let them flow.

However as soon as you were the only ones in the corridor your fingers felt for the hilt of your dagger, your fingers wrapping around the black leather. Your eyes glanced up to the distracted Frey man. You glanced forward, making sure the corridor was empty before slamming your head back into his mouth making him cry out and drop you.

This time you were ready though as you spun around, your dagger sinking through the side of his throat. When you pulled it back, he collapsed to his knees, blood squirting out his neck as his body fell lifelessly to the ground. You didn’t have time to watch the light leave his eyes as it had Robbs.

Your hands reached for his belt, undoing it quickly before tightening it around your own waist. Next was his cloak. It was too long but would work for now you thought as you put up the hood before taking off down the corridor. Your hands squeezed the pouch on his belt as you ran, and you sighed of relief when you could feel coins through it. his sword was heavier than you’d like but you knew you could handle it. before anyone knew what had happened you were already at the forest edge on the back of a Frey horse.

The next couple of weeks were possibly the worst of your life. You wanted to mourn, to curl up in a ball and sob. You wanted to die. However, you couldn’t. you had to live. Robb wanted you to live. As you walked the forest you often felt your hand hover over your stomach.

Baby Robb you thought. Or Catelyn for a girl. Your bloods hadn’t arrived for little over three months. At first you thought it was the stress of war but as you stood on the forest edge, listening to the faint sounds of your men being slaughtered as you escaped you knew. You knew you were pregnant, and you wondered if Robb would’ve run if he had known.

If you had not come across the brother hood without banners you wondered if you would have survived much longer with such a large bounty on your head. Soon though your mission became less about surviving and more about getting revenge.

When you sunk an arrow into the chest of the first Frey you came upon you remembered your anger and soon it almost became like a sport. It wasn’t hard to find a Frey to kill and they rarely put up a fight. It was the Lannister’s that were harder. Though many knew you and thought they could convince you to return to your family’s side.

You made sure to stab they ones twice. You never stabbed to kill, however. You enjoyed watching them crawl away, desperate to find help, but knowing they’d bleed out before finding any. But revenge is not a survival tool you soon learned.

You had been washing your face down at the stream near where you and the brotherhood had chosen to set up camp. It was almost peaceful here. The birds were chirping, deer walked around with no care in the world. Feeling the sweat wash off your face as your splashed yourself with the cool water was the best feeling you had had since the wedding.

For a moment, a single moment, you tried to forget it all. You let yourself enjoy the stream, your fingers hovering in the water, enjoying how the water flowed around them. You looked up across the stream, smiling at the stag that stood across the water from you. Dad. The idea pained your chest. Everything was so much simpler before.

When the stag began to kick you squinted, moving to stand to help the creature when you felt a hand grab a chunk of your hair. You tried to scream, to reach for his hand, but the ice-cold water entering your mouth made it hard to even move. You tried to thrash but you did little but make the water splash. You could hear muffle voices from atop the water but with no clue who they belonged to.

Your eyes stung as you tried to look up. You managed to turn your head just enough to see the stag out the corner of your eye. You wondered if the wolf that had pawed its way up to stand by the stag was real. It almost looked as if it was smiling down at you. your hands slipped away from your attacker’s grip as your body grew stiller. Your eyes stayed on the stag and wolf. When you need me, you’ll have me. Your fathers’ words echoed in the water. I love you too much you could hear Robbs voice whisper before everything faded to black.

“Where is she?” Cerci demanded as her apparent cousins she’d never heard of stood before her throne. “You said you had my daughter,”

“Yes, my queen,” the man bowed before turning to signal for a crate to be brought forward, “We have her right here,”

“Are there air holes in that box?” Tyrion asked, walking down the stairs from the throne to the crate the mountain had sat down with less than grace.

“Why would we need airholes my lord?” the man’s words even made cerci stand from her throne as Tyrion began to pry the crate open with his dagger, “Your grace we were told she had committed treason. She murdered my father your grace, your cousin. She was dangerous I’m telling you my grace you have to believe me,” the man pleaded but it fell on deaf ears as Cersei approached the crate.

Tyrion slowly pried it open, his eyes peeking inside before gasping, slamming its lid shut as he backed away, “What is it brother?”

“Don’t look in there” Tyrion begged as cerci approached the crate, “Don’t look in there! Any of you,” he screeched.

Cercis eyes were cold as stone as she looked from the crate to the mountain then to her cousin. The mans eyes widened in terror as the mountain carried him out wordlessly, “Please your grace. I thought this is what you wanted,” he screamed.

“Get out,” Cersi muttered, “All of you out!” she screamed making everyone, but Tyrion flee out the room. Her eyes were locked on the crate, “Is she-?” she tried to ask as Tyrion stood from where he had keeled over on the floor.

His feet scraped the ground as he walked over to stand by his sister, “She’s dead,” he said, his voice cold but tears streaked down his cheeks, “They killed her,” Cersei’s hand reached to open to crate, but Tyrion shuddered as he turned around, “Do not make me look at her,” he begged.

“I have to know,” she murmured as she took the lid off the crate, her eyes wound shut till she heard the lid clatter to the ground. Cerci opened her eyes, expecting to see her daughter asleep in a box but she gasped when she saw the reality. “No,” she gasped, her hand clutching her heart as she stepped towards the crate.

“Look what you’ve done,” Tyrion said through gritted teeth, “Look at the girl you had killed!”

“I never- I didn’t mean- I didn’t want her to die,” cerci said as she reached out to stroke her daughter’s hair but when Tyrion saw out the corner of his eye, he slapped her hand away. “I- “

“You do not touch her!” he screeched, “She is dead because of you! all of this is because of you,” he yelled at his sister before noticing a new horror reach her eyes. Tyrion choked back his tears, trying to hold his stomach steady as he peered back into the box, “Oh my gods,” he whispered as he backed away from the box.

“I didn’t know,” Cersi whispered, her eyes unable to move.

“You killed your own grandchild,” Tyrion whispered, venom dripping off his tongue as he backed away from his sister, “Your own daughter! Your flesh and your blood!” he began to yell once more.

“I didn’t mean to- “Cersei tried to beg, tears falling from her eyes as she backed away from the crate.

“That doesn’t matter,” Tyrion said coldly as he glared up at his older sister, “She is dead because of you. and I hope that haunts you till your last breath,”

Taglist: @clairacassidy @valeskafics @nyotamalfoy

[chic-beyond-the-wall]

What Myrcella Baratheon would wear

(Alexander Mcqueen, Spring 2012)

[fanfictiongirlie]

A Song of Sun and Snow - Chapter Two

Click here for Masterlist

Parings: Robb Stark x Baratheon Reader

Description: You and Robb Stark hated one another. Always had, always will. As the oldest daughter of Robert Baratheon, you had been engaged to Robb for as long as you could remember. He however had always thought of you as a southern bratty princess, and you had thought him as a arrogant jerk. You had reached your 18th name day a few months ago, and in a few weeks you'd be travelling to Winterfell to marry him.

Rating: Explicit (Eventually)

Words: 2,245

P.s: Just something I couldn't get out of my head. No use of Y/N. Only description of 'reader given: the fact that she doesn't look like Joff, Myrcella and Tommen (It's hinted she truly is Robert and Cersei's child) Not much though. Like one line. I wrote this in a different style to my usual style, using 2nd person. Hope it's okay. P.s there will be pregnancy in this, the 'reader' wants to have children. Also the ages are completely different in this fic then they are in the show/book.

In the morning, you dressed in a regal light pink dress, it was backless and moved perfectly with you. Your hair was done perfectly, your handmaid had done it so it flowed down your back with a few ringlets at the end. You walk into the dining hall seeing your family and the Starks. 

As you walked into the feast hall, Robb saw you and didn't take his eyes off you. He watched you walk across the room taking in the way your dress hugged your figure and the way your hair flowed in waves down your back. He felt his heart skip a beat as your legs seemed to go on for miles in that dress. 

You greeted your father, he smiled widely when he saw you, and insisted you sit with Robb, wanting to see the 'happy couple' together. In that moment you hated your father more than you already did, you tried to not roll your eyes and you took your seat by Robb. 

Robb smirked when he saw your displeased face when you were told to sit by him. He shifted in his seat and watched as you unhappily took a seat next to him, you avoided his eyes. You noticed as you sat your mother was staring at you, giving you a distasteful look, the two of you never got along, Joff sniggered as he noticed your discomforted, you'd be sure to hit him later for that. 

Robb shifted in his seat, looking at you more closely as he took in how beautiful you looked this morning, your hair fel in soft waves down your back, and your dressed hugged you wonderfully, emphasizing your elegant regalness. 

You ate your food quietly, avoiding conversations as you did so. Robb ate his food too, occasionally looking in your direction, his eyes would scan over you body, taking you in as he slowly ate. He was finding it harder and harder to keep his mind off how good you looked right now...And how soft he thought your skin might feel underneath that dress... He shook the thoughts from his mind... You were annoying, not beautiful... 

Soon you found yourself talking to Sansa, the younger girl was always sweet to talk too, she was over the moon for your wedding, despite being a lot younger than you, your little sister joined in on the conversation, she was miserable about having to miss your wedding, since it would be in Winterfell with the gods the Starks prayed too. Robb watched you, realising this might be the first time he had seen you without that annoyed look on your face...He thought you looked beautiful when you were relaxed and smiling. He took another drink as he continued to watch you, finding himself liking this more relaxed version of you... 

"Darling!" Your father's voice suddenly boomed through the hall "This morning, I'd like for you and Robb to go for a ride, just the two of you" He grinned happily to you, already close to drunk, you sighed quietly. Alone? With Robb? And he was alright with it? You thought to yourself. 

Robb sat in a state of surprise, he hadn't expected this, nor did you, from the look on your face. 

"Of course father" You answer, faking happiness, though the idea of being with your horse made you happy. Robb finished his meal and drank the last of his ale before he got up and held his arm out for you. 

You huff and take his arm, standing up. His arm felt strong against yours, he had a stupid smirk on his lips. He led you out of the room and outside into the courtyard. You reached the stables and you walked straight to your horse; Parsley. You stroked his mane and rested your head against his. 

Robb smiled softly at you, he watched as your annoyance seemed to melt away as you relaxed with your horse. You climbed onto your horse with no issues and waited for Robb to mount his. 

Robb mounted his horse quickly, with another glance in your direction and a slight shake of his head, he rode off, into the direction of the forest clearing behind the castle, signaling you to follow. You followed him, riding your horse faster than his. You finally reached the place you wanted to visit most before leaving to Winterfell, it was a small clearing beyond the forest, there was a small lake and was completely surrounded by trees. It was peaceful. 

You stopped and climbed off Parsley and brought him to the water. Robb finally caught up and dismounted his horse. He looked over to you seeing happiness on your face and admiring how the light of the sun made your hair glow. He took another look around and spotted a large rock in the middle of the clearing, he took a seat on it and gestured for you to come sit as well. 

You sat by him, smoothing your dress down as you did. Robb looked over to you, for a while neither of you spoke. He broke the silence after watching you smile up at the sun with your eyes closed for a bit. 

"You look happier here"

"I feel happier here, away from the castle" You admit quietly. He didn't reply for a moment, instead he just watched you as you looked out at the open forest in front of you. He looked out over the horizon as well, before turning his eyes back to you. 

"So you don't enjoy feasts and parties?" He asked. 

"No.." You admit "I guess I don't"

He chuckled, surprised that there was something else he and you had in common for once. "You'd rather be out here, riding your horse and enjoying the open air?"

"Yes, but unfortunately I'll always be the princess" You say quietly. He nodded, understanding what you were saying. He'd often preferred being out here too, but he was the elder son and future Lord of Winterfell. He'd always know that a lot of responsibility would be on his shoulders. He didn't know what to say, so he kept looking out at the open forest and the open air, enjoying the comfortable silence between the two of you. 

"Suppose I'll have to find somewhere like this in Winterfell" You muse quietly, knowing that soon this would no longer be your happy place, you had heard Winterfell was surrounded by forests and beauty, you'd find a new happy place. He heard your quiet comment and chuckled again, turning to look at you. 

"The North is different, but it's beautiful, no less. There's plenty of forests like this all around Winterfell and around the Stark land in general. You'll find plenty of places like this princess. Plenty of quiet and open lands for you to ride across" He spoke softly to you, something he had never done. 

"Let's hope" You say quietly, the sun warming your skin "I hate the cold" You add thinking of how harsh the weather will be in Winterfell. The smirk returned to his face as you said that. 

"Oh I'm sure I'll find plenty of ways to keep you and your delicate southern body warm in Winterfell"

You roll your eyes at his words, there he was, the boy you hated, you scoff loudly at him. 

"Nauseating" 

Robb chuckled again, but it was with an amused tone. He found your attitude towards him amusing for some reason, normally he'd be annoyed, but no longer.. 

"Aww princess, you don't like the thought of me keeping you warm and cosy in the North?" He chimes, laughing slightly. You roll your eyes again and get up from the rock, walking back over to your horse. 

He followed you, not wanting to leave yet, he walked over and put an arm our, catching your wrist and stopping you from walking away. 

"Don't touch me, Stark!" You hiss. He laughed as you hissed, the sound of annoyance in your voice again. He didn't let go of your wrist, but he didn't pull you closer either. He kept his hand where it was, but his face remained neutral as he looked down at you. 

"Why not, princess?"

"Because I don't want your hands on me"

He smirked again at your angry tone, he raised an eyebrow as he looked down at you, trying hard not to laugh again. 

"If we're going to married, you'll have to get use to my hands on you at some point, you know that, right?" He asks. 

"Fuck you" You hiss again, pulling your arm away from him, you go back to your horse and mount him, turning to ride home. He laughs loudly at your choice of words. He shakes his head, amused at your behaviour, but he can't shake the thoughts of having his hands all over your body... 

You rode faster than him, not wanting him close to you. That moment in the clearing you felt like you both connected, but of course he ruined it. He caught up with you in no time, speeding slightly ahead, he steered his horse in front of you, stopping you both. 

"Let me pass" You yell. 

Robb smirked at your words, seeing the annoyance over your face did something to him. Perhaps it always affected him, only this time he acknowledged it. He didn't budge, he slowly looked you up and down, his smirk widening. 

"What do you want?" You huff. 

"Just wondering what you're running away for...Didn't you have a good time in the forest princess?" 

"No" You answer, not sounding completely convincing "I didn't"

He smirked again, not believed you. He knew you enjoyed it, he remembered the relaxed and happy look over your face. 

"That's a lie princess..You were enjoying yourself until I said that thing about keeping you warm and cosy in the North. Why does that bother you so much?" He asks, his head cocking to the side, he knew why. 

"Because you're a dick" 

He barks out a laugh at your insult. "Ouch, that hurts princess. Here I was trying to be friendly and you insult me like that"

"You were being a creep, Stark"

He smirked again. That smirk would be the reason you punch him one day, you were sure. Even when you insulted him, Robb found your annoyance and anger cute... And it didn't help that he kept looking at your body in that light pink dress that clung to you so well. 

"You're going to be my wife...Do you really think I won't be putting my hands on you once we're married, princess?" 

"I'm trying not to think of it" You answer, rolling your eyes. He laughs at your words and the look on your face as you said them only made him more excited about everything he was going to do to you once you were his wife. 

"Oh princess, you should be thinking about it. I know I am..." 

You roll your eyes and start running your horse back to the castle. 

"Running away again, princess?" He calls. You ignore him and finally arrive back in the stables. He catches up and once you're both off your horses he takes hold of your wrist again, stopping you from walking away from him. 

"We're not married yet, you don't have permission to touch me!" You snap, pulling at your wrist. He pulls you closer to him by your wrist, still keeping a strong grip on it. He towered over you, looking down at your face, taking in the beautiful look of annoyance on your face. 

"Oh, I'll be doing plenty of touching once I marry you, princess..."

"Don't make me vomit" You sneer as you pull your wrist away from him. He smiled and let go of you, placing his hand on your hip instead, pulling you against his body. 

"Aw princess, you're so cute when you're angry"

"Get off me, Stark"

He laughs again, his hand on your hip getting tighter. He leans down, so that his face was closer to yours, your noses bumped lightly. His eyes looked from your own eyes to your lips. 

"You know, you look really beautiful when you're all flustered and annoyed like this princess"

"Please...stop" You whisper. 

He moves away from you face and to the side of you face, so he could whisper in your ear. 

"Stop what, princess?" 

"Stop touching me... I don't want your hands on me...If someone sees" You whisper, your voice a little shaky. You knew he wouldn't touch you, not really, he wouldn't bring that scandel onto you. But it didn't mean you were any less scared in this moment. He smiled at you, his other hand moving to your hip, holding you possessively against him. He spoke quietly, but his voice still sounded deep and gruff as he was so close to you. 

"Why not princess? You don't want anyone seeing us like this? How does it feel, huh? Having my hands on you, holding you tight against me like this?"

"Get off me" You say, struggling to move your body. 

"Don't struggle, princess... I think you like having my hands on you, why else would you get all flustered?" 

"Because, you piss me off, Stark" You say and you move your hands to his chest, pushing him with all your strength. He took a half-step back as you pushed, taken by surprise. By the time he regained his footing, you had run off. 

Taglist:

@quinquinquincy @whatelsecouldgowrong

[starogeorgina]

𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐯𝐢𝐩𝐞𝐫

Paring: Oberyn Martell x Baratheon OC

Warnings: None

1.02

You watch as the hot wax runs onto the surface of the rolled-up scroll, the color of which is much like blood. You press a stamp onto it and wait for the impression of a stag to set into the wax.

“Sending another letter to King's Landing?”

Looking over your shoulder, you smile. “Uncle, I had no idea you were there.”

In jest, he wags his finger. “You’re a very bad liar. Deceit wasn’t a Lannister trait you inherited.”

“Well, as my mother likes to remind me, I am my father’s daughter.” Your uncle was right; you were an awful liar. And you knew it was him approaching because Meraxes always hissed at him. “But no, I’m sending this to Winterfell.”

Tyrion places the jug of wine he brought with him in the middle of the small table. He sits across from you, smirking, “Oh, pray tell. The king's daughter, who’s going to marry a prince, sends love letters to her former betrothed. How scandalous.”

When you are happy that the scroll is securely sealed, you place it with the other two you wrote. “You sound like a gossiping lady at court, uncle.”

“That is not a denial, Cassana.”

Rolling your eyes, you huff, “Of course I’m not writing to Robb; I’m writing to Jon.”

Not long after your tenth name-day, Lord Stark traveled south with two of his sons, his eldest son Robb, and his bastard Jon Snow. You liked both of the lord's sons, but only Robb made you blush. Your father had proposed to betroth you to Robb, but your mother fought against it for years until she finally got her way and you were promised to another.

“Ah yes, Ned Starks bastard. Do let me know if you ever find out who the boy's mother is." He takes a large gulp of wine, then lets out a satisfied sighing noise. “That truly has been a mystery at court.”

“And betray my friends' trust? Never,” you chuckle. “I’ve written to my father and siblings, but I’ve yet to receive anything back.”

“If it’s any consolation, I very much doubt my sister is letting them receive it. I’m sure Myrcella and Tommen would both be thrilled to know you’ve written to them.”

“I hope so.”

Tommen and Marcella were both you and impressionable; you didn’t want them to think you’d abandon them deliberately, gone to start a new life while leaving them behind without a second thought.

—

Burying your toes into the sand, you enjoy the feeling of warmth surrounding your feet. You lean to the side and dip your finger into the cool water of the pond, causing a ripple effect on the surface. After a few moments, you watch as several colorful fish swim closer to your finger to investigate; one of them brushes against it, causing you to giggle slightly.

Feeling eyes on you, you look up and see Ellaria walking in the opposite direction across a wooden bridge. She was looking over her shoulder and glaring right at you.

The people of Dorne were rightfully still furious about the horrific deaths of Elia Martell and her children, and the anger was aimed in the direction of house Lannisters. Which has resulted in you being very lonely. Most people were indifferent or just outright hostile towards you. The only people who spoke to you daily were your uncle Tyrion and your lady-in-waiting. But you were the daughter of the king, so no matter how you felt, you needed to hold your head up high and not let them see how badly you were hurting.

“Princess.”

“Prince Oberyn.”

Oberyn stands in front of you with his hands behind his back gracefully. Your mouth goes dry. Oberyn was tall and slender, with lustrous black hair. Even now, with his eyes squinting slightly because of the sun shining in them, you avoid his gaze, afraid you’d get drawn in by the darkness of them.

“Where is Lord Tyrion?”

A Dornish beauty who works in a pillow house had caught your uncle’s eye, so he would be most likely absent for the rest of the day. You click your tongue. “He has gone to drink the finest wine and bed the most beautiful woman.”

“Oh,” he laughs.

Your gaze remains on the pond as the prince sits down beside you. Oberyn was very flirtatious with both men and women; however, a mere simple interaction would cause your cheeks to burn.

“I’ve got you a gift,” he says, pulling a book from behind his back and giving it to you. “When we first met, you said your septa only told you what they wanted you to know.”

You read the title out loud, “The Songs of Robert's Rebellion.”

Oberyn seems intrigued as he watches your reaction closely. His intention was never to offend you, but when he heard the book had been written, he thought you might find it interesting.

You straighten your shoulders up, place the book on your lap, and look up at him, finally locking eyes, and it’s him. “They say my father had the strength of a giant; the weapon he used in battle was a spiked iron warhammer that was so heavy that Lord Stark could barely lift it himself. In his youth, my father was known to be quite fearless.”

“I dare say he was.”

Your lips press together into a thin line. It was easy for you to get carried away talking about your father. You want to believe the version of his heroics that the septa told you, but it was just a lie. They knew it, you knew it, and Prince Obryen knows it, but no one dares speak the truth.

“Are the two of you close?”

“Yes, we are. Are you close with your daughters?” It was common knowledge that the prince had several bastard daughters. You had briefly met his eldest, Obara, whom Obryen fathered at the age of thirteen.

“They are my whole world.”

“All my life, I’ve heard King Robert Baratheon was strong as a bull and fearless in battle, a man who loved nothing better than war. But he doesn’t feel that way.” Your father shared that he never felt so alive as when he was winning his throne, but from the moment he sat on the iron throne, he felt dead inside.

“Even a man with a reputation such as the king has a softness to him. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have named his firstborn daughter after his mother.”

Crossing your arms over you, you hold the book to your chest and smile softly. “Thank you for the gift; it was a thoughtful gesture.”

[hikarimiyanaga]

The Queen's Bride (Part 1)

Summary :

Being a rich man's kid isn't as exciting as everyone makes it out to be.

You have no freedom.

Every choice has been made for you ever since you were born.

What you eat. What course you were going to study. What school you're going to.

Even the one you were going to marry.

So to your surprise, your father has finally chosen one thing right for you.

Daenerys Targaryen.

Warnings : Omegaverse. Stark!Reader. Omega!Reader x Alpha!Daenerys Targaryen. Modern!AU.

Look who's finally watching Game of Thrones. Surprise, surprise, I fell in love with Daenerys.

"This is bullshit!" Jon, your cousin, shouts as he paces around you.

Both of you were just given two names.

Two people you never met that you were going to spend the rest of your life with.

"Who the fuck is Ygritte and why do I have to marry her?" Jon shouts in frustration and you shrug.

"I mean, Father could've paired you with one of the Lannisters. Myrcella is an omega-"

"Shut up." Jon glares at you.

"You have to admit it. Ygritte is pretty as fuck."

"Lucky for Robb, huh? He's the heir so he could choose freely."

"She is. But- I don't know her, Y/N." Jon sighs as he sits next to you.

"Lucky asshole." You slap his arm.

"He's my big brother."

"He is. I wish I could be the heir."

"Seriously? You? Jon Stark of Winterfell Corp? Are you hearing me?"

"Shut up." The two of you look at each other then laugh. "Yours is pretty too, by the way. And a Targaryen too."

"Why them? Our mottos are literally parallels."

"Yeah. Winter is Coming."

"Fire and Blood. Like why her?" You groan at the ceiling.

"Just be glad that she's pretty. Some don't get that lucky."

"Are you talking about-" Jon nods and you sigh.

"I just wish we had freedom."

"Me too. Y/N. Me too."

-

You get your bag and look at the empty apartment around you.

"I need Sansa to room with me. Like gods, this place is fucking big enough for ten people at least." You mumble to yourself as you leave the apartment.

Just like everything else in your life. The apartment was provided by your Father, Ned Stark. You could count the number of times on your fingers that you've actually talked to him rather than just receive orders or scolding from him.

Your phone rings just as you get inside the Westeros University. You answer it as you see your little sister's name.

"Y/N! How are you?" You smile at Arya's voice.

"I'm good, Arry. Where are you?" How is she calling you right now?

"I'm at home. There was a lice problem at school today so we went home! Are you free??" You grin at her exciting tone.

"In two hours, I will be. Why?"

"Can we go play? Mom said she'll let me go to the mall if I'm with you!"

"Sure, can you wait there and behave?"

"Yep! See you later!"

"See you." You say softly and smile as you go to your first and last class of the day. You were so glad that you chose your own schedule. You sit down at your usual seat and hum as you take out your laptop. Looks like professor Varys is late today.

Westeros University is the biggest University in all of Westeros. It has lessons even in magic.

"Did you hear, Y/N?" You look up as Oberyn sits beside you. You were somewhat friends. He can charm anyone in a room while you can outread anyone in a room. Truth be told, even you didn't know why he talked to you.

"Hear what?"

"Not interested in rumors as usual?" He asks and you shake your head.

"Even if Varys tells us otherwise, I still don't like rumors and hearsays." Oberyn nods and grins in satisfaction.

"Which is why you make the perfect audience." You sigh. "Listen to this. Someone is doing it."

"Doing what?"

"Seeing if the dragons will choose them."

"Seriously? That thing hasn't been done in like 200 years."

"Right? But someone is brave enough to do it now. You know what it means, right?"

"Yeah. They get to sit on the Iron Throne regardless of their last name."

"And?" You raise an eyebrow at him in confusion.

"And what?"

"Complete freedom!" You tilt your head at him. "No more choices by parents! No arranged marriages!"

"Damn. Sounds like a dream come true."

"For you guys. I still don't get why you guys won't love freely."

"Because last names have a value of their own. Here at Westeros at least. Oh. And Westeros Conglomerate too." Oberyn shakes his head.

"What you guys should value is talent, not blood."

"Meritocracy rather than blood right. Reasonable." Oberyn looks at you. "I don't make the choices though."

"Marry the king then."

"I'd rather die, Oberyn. I'd rather eat my own shit."

"Still hate men?"

"Only romantically." Oberyn chuckles just as Varys comes through the door.

"You're missing out on like half of the world then." You give him a smile.

"I don't think I am."

-

You hum as you park your car in front of the Stark Mansion. You were just getting your bag when you feel a pair of arms circle around your legs. You look down and see Arya smiling at you.

"Hey, Arya!" You scoop her up and she squeals. Arya is only 9 years younger but you love doing this to her. "Where's Ma and Father?"

"Dad is still at work! Ma is inside!" You put her down and nod.

"Come on, then. I'll tell Ma that I'll take you to the mall." Arya grins at you and she begins to tell you about her classmates and school.

"And then this one guy-"

"Y/N! You're home!" Catelyn Stark rushes over and hugs you. You hug her just as tightly.

"Hey, Ma. Arya wanted to play with me and it's been months since I've been home so I figured I should take her."

"I'm sure she understands that you're busy with university and all."

"I know, Ma! But school is out and she said she was free." Arya pouts from beside you and you smile.

"I am free, no worries." You ruffle Arya's hair and she smiles at you.

"Be sure to be back for Dinner then."

"We'll buy some before we get home. Are Robb and Father-"

"Busy." You nod in understanding then take Arya's hand.

"You ready for an afternoon with me? Your best sister?"

"YEAH! We'll destroy those high scores in the arcade!" You grin and agree.

-

You come home with a passed out Arya, a bag full of plushies, and a bag with food.

"You actually made her sleep? You are a godsend." You laugh at your mom and grin.

"Once you get Arya's quirks and use them against her, she can make herself run out of energy."

"Please don't tell-"

"Ma, she wants to. She can afford to learn it still."

"But her marri-"

"She's still 9, ma. She doesn't need to think about that yet."

"Right. Are you staying for dinner at least?"

"Sure. Is Sansa-" Before you finish your sentence, someone has already hugged you.

"Y/N! Why didn't you tell me you were coming?" You turn around and find your other little sister, Sansa Stark.

"Well, I had to exhaust this one so." Sansa looks at Arya who was cuddling your neck still.

"Whoa. Arya never sleeps this early."

"Like I said. Exhausted. Are Brandon and Rickon here?"

"Yep! They should be getting back from Winterfell by now."

"What did they do there??"

"Father wanted to show them something. Are you staying tonight?"

"If you're willing to share your bed."

"ALWAYS!" You shush her and smile.

"I'll just be putting this one in her bed then I'll come down. Here." You give the bag full of food to Catelyn and smile. "Some of my favorites."

"I'll plate them up." You nod and begin your walk with Arya still sleeping while cuddling your neck.

"You're becoming heavier, Arya. I wonder if I should do some training just so I can carry you around."

-

"Y/N! You're back!" Brandon says then hugs you.

"Hey, little brother." You kiss his head and smile as he beams at you.

"SIS!" Rickon shouts then tackles you to no avail.

"Heya, baby bro." You pick him up and grin. "Did you grow??"

"I did! I'm defeating Arya soon!" You grin at him.

"Don't let her hear you!" You ruffle his hair then turn to Sansa. "Did you do your homework yet?"

"No? Will you help me later?" She gives you her puppy dog eyes and you groan at her. You admit that you're too weak to your siblings.

"Fine. But no talking about boys. I swear to God if I hear one more thing about-"

"But Ser Loras is just so dreamy." You look at her with a deadpan expression.

"Try me and I will sleep besides Arya." Sansa pouts.

"Fine. No boy talk." She grumbles. "Stingy."

"I'm gay. I'd rather marry another omega as long as she's a woman." Catelyn smiles as she sees you getting along with your siblings.

"Do not plant ideas in their head."

"Ma, Sansa is as straight as a ruler. These two don't even know what their second genders are." Catelyn rolls her eyes at you. "That reminds me, when's your test?" You look at Sansa as you place Rickon at his seat.

"This Monday! I'm so excited to confirm that I'm an Omega!"

"And if you're a beta?" You ask and Catelyn slaps your arm. "What? There's nothing wrong about being a beta! I wanted to be one before."

"You did?" Sansa asks and you nod. "Why?"

"More options." Catelyn hits your head and you laugh.

"Why? Does being an omega lessen your options?"

"Technically, I can't have another omega as my soulmate. Not that it matters."

"Oh yeah, dad said he sent you someone." You roll your eyes at that.

"He sent a file of someone. He wouldn't just let some stranger in my apartment."

"Who is it?? Can we know??" You groan at the excitement in Sansa's voice. There's nothing more that interests her than love talk.

"She's a Targaryen."

"The Dragon Family!" Rickon shouts and you ruffle his hair.

"Yup! Bran, do you know their motto?" Brandon hums as he gets some food.

"Yeah. Fire and Blood, right?"

"Yup! You all will get some ice cream. I brought some earlier." Catelyn glares at you. "What?"

"Cavities."

"I only visit once in a while, Ma. Just this once." Catelyn pinches your cheek. "Ow! Give! Give!"

"Just this once and don't ever do this again without saying anything to me."

"Yes, Ma! I got it! Ow!" Catelyn finally lets you go and you hold your cheek. You pout at her. "You didn't have to pinch that hard."

"You know how I feel about sweets." You sigh.

"I know. Sorry."

-

"Good thing the ice cream didn't give Rickon sugar rush."

"Yeah. It was a relief that Ma didn't pinch me."

"Those two boys really love you and adore you."

"They do." You look at Sansa and pat her hair. "I hope you become a beta, baby girl." Sansa scoffs at you.

"Wha- why!?" You smile sadly at her.

"So then you'll have more freedom." Sansa holds your hand. "Sadly. As an Omega, everything is controlled for you here in Westeros. Specially if you have a last name of a noble."

"Y/N." You squeeze her hand and grin.

"Hopefully, you and Arya get to decide your own futures. And your own partners." Sansa gets teary eyed at that. You let go of her hand then pat her hair again. "Time to get ready for bed. I'll just check on Arya for a second, okay?" Sansa nods at you and you close her door before covering your mouth with your hand.

Freedom. What a grand word. For you, it was thrown out the window when you got your test results.

Everyone says that Omegas have equal standings with Alphas. That the world is getting better.

"What a load of fucking bullshit." You mumble to yourself as you make your way to Arya's room.

You open the door and see that Arya is still fast asleep. You get to her bed and kiss her head.

"I hope you'll have more freedom than me, little one." You tuck her in and leave.

-

PS.

Jon is a Stark here and Catelyn knows he's Lyanna's son but no one knows who his father is. Let's just pretend for a second that he's not a Targaryen.

I actually was going to go the usual route for this aka Alpha Reader but decided against it. Omega Reader just works better for the angst inside my head.