#steel-winter-rose

[packsurvivcs]

@steel-winter-rose liked THIS for a starter from Arya

She'd told Sansa to go ahead as she continued to stare up at the statue of their father. It was so strange being back in Winterfell, she'd been certain she would never see this place again, her home. But here she was, so many years later, and a completely different person than the one she had been when she'd been here last. A small sigh left her lips as she looked up at the statue again.

[astormofsilk]

@steel-winter-rose liked for a starter

Lyarra stalked quietly, eyes glancing very much like a hunting wolf on the prowl. Her weapon of choice was held loosely at her side and she walked with confidence. She didn’t need to rush her hunt or chase her prey down until she was out of breath. She was an old hat at this hunt, having learned at her mother’s side. Her steps were nearly silent and she knew there was no worry of alerting her prey.

She turned a corner and continued, pausing at each new opening to check for the end of her hunt. So far she hadn’t found it yet, but there was enough time to hunt. As she walked two of her pups ran by her, quieting when they saw her and realized she was hunting. Reaching out with her free hand she gently petted one of their heads, letting them know they weren’t her target for this hunt. Her pups making an appearance did let her know where she ought to look though since they always grouped together. A silent turn on the heel and she headed the way they had just come.

On the new scent she kept her languid pace, tapping her weapon against her leg. This new trail was proving good, she could already hear her prey. Slowing down to make sure her steps were nearly silent she crept into the room her prey was hiding in. This was the true test of her hunting ability, if she startled it now she’d have to hunt it down again and the next time she might not be as kind with what she was about to do.

Now standing behind her prey Lyarra reached out and pushed her fingers into its hair. “𝘔𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘮𝘦?” Her tone was teasing as she tipped Lyanna’s head back to her, smiling down at her. “𝘊𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘦. 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘧𝘶𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳.” Lyarra moved away from where her she was to sit in her favorite chair, motioning her daughter to follow her.

[valarmorghclis]

“In the end, you’re just like your father.” Lynara had received a raven from @steel-winter-rose (lyanna).

At the appraisal that her aunt has given her, Lynara couldn’t help but smile at it. Her father once mentioned that she more stark than a tully and it was nice to hear it from her aunt lyanna as well. “Must be the Stark genes then.” Lynara stated. “Father says I kinda look like you when you were my age.” 

[zoklaanogar]

" i'm fine, just. . . give me a minute. " | @steel-winter-rose

THE BATTLE WAS OVER , RAMSAY SNOW BOLTON FELLED. he should be CELEBRATING , should be patting the men who fought valiantly at his side on the back , but he rushes to his aunt's ──── mother's side. his MOTHER , a secret the she - wolf of house stark had dropped in his lap prior to the battle. he'd hardly the time to process the information , left with a PROMISE to discuss things after they had won. but lyanna had been INJURED in the chaos , fighting with her wolf alongside his men. it had ENRAGED the young man , his ears roaring as he watched her clutch at her wound , watched her blood pool beneath her. in his rage , jon had driven longclaw through his enemies , making a path toward her with ghost at his side.

HE KNEELS AT LYANNA'S BEDSIDE , nearly pushing aside the maester tending to her wounds. grey eyes rove her person , checking for anything the maester may have missed. once he is satisfied with his lack of discovery , he orders the maester to LEAVE them.

" THE MAESTERS SAY YOU LOST a significant amount of blood , " jon utters once the door closes , granting them privacy. his eyes wander to the bucket of water atop the bedside table , red with the she - wolf's blood , soiled bandages left discarded within. he closes his eyes and grits his teeth. " why had you never told me that you're my mother ? why did my lord fa ──── lord stark sully his own name to keep your secret ? "

HIS EYES OPEN , and jon struggles to meet her gaze. reluctantly , he takes her hand in his own and offers a gentle squeeze. " were you so ASHAMED of me that you had to HIDE me away? "

[spartanblacksmith]

Chapter 6 is posted.

Still gonna send ya to chapter 1.

Art by @nioblu

[zoklaanogar]

despite the ANGER , despite the HURT , despite the BETRAYAL , jon leans forward and grasps his aunt’s shoulder as she sits up. “ easy , ” he murmurs , noting the agony written on her face as she threatens to tear open her wounds with every movement. he retracts his hand , placing it over hers that he holds in his other , again , and offers his own squeeze in return. it is difficult to come to terms with his life having been a LIE , one that his lord father had been involved in. eddard and lyanna had allowed him to believe that he was a BASTARD , that a life worth living could only be obtained by taking the black. he would hold no lands nor titles with his bastardy , and finding a woman to love him would be difficult. so why not join the night’s watch ? it had been the only viable option to the then young man of six and ten , a way to make a name for himself. he had KILLED the boy he had been to let the MAN he had become be born. the only family he had after swearing his vows were his fellow black brothers , no longer the members of house stark.

but it is of little use to contemplate the past , of little use to harbor such animosity toward the mother he had longed to know , only for her to have been in his life all this time.

he listens to her explanation , all the while holding her gaze. his brow furrows , a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. he nearly SCOFFS at the idea of the late king robert killing an innocent babe , especially one belonging to the woman who held his heart. that is , until he begins piecing together what he knew of lyanna’s past. it wasn’t something she nor his father had openly spoke of ; he knew only what had been taught to him and the stark children by maester luwin ──── the dragon prince had ABDUCTED lyanna , forcing her betrothed’s hand , resulting in robert’s rebellion. and it is as he pieces the puzzle together that lyanna speaks the truth of his father , the truth of why jon had been forced to live the life of eddard stark’s bastard.

he was the son of a prince. the BLOOD of the DRAGON.

the white wolf drops lyanna’s hand , his eyes widening , his ears ringing. how could it be so ? he looked nothing like those belonging to house targaryen ──── he had the dark hair , the long face , the grey eyes of the starks. so much so that it had often been joked that his mother had left nothing of herself in him ( oh , how WRONG those who had laughed were ) . but the histories swarm his mind , again , and he recalls that the princess rhaenys was black of hair , thanks to her baratheon mother , and the three velaryon princes of queen rhaenyra hadn’t a lick of their mother’s traits. had jon been blessed by the gods , giving him the GIFT of resembling the starks in order to keep him safe ?

nausea hits him in waves , threatening to pull him under. there was no reason for lyanna to lie of his father’s identity , and it certainly backed up her claim of having to lie to him out of necessity. but to not even him with the truth , to allow him to join the night’s watch , thinking so LOW of himself . . . what would she have done had he remained dead after the mutiny at castle black ?

“ rhaegar KIDNAPPED you , ” jon reminds her , the disgust evident in his voice. the nausea hits him , again. “ he locked you in a tower , and my father RESCUED you. king robert ended his life at the trident for what he did to you. how dare you call that man my father. ”

JON SNOW:

[cont from x]

A sick irony it was, to be in the battlefield and seeing those droplets of blood splatter on the ground before her, the color of rubies, a painful reminder of the Prince that was slain, taken from her. Yet, somehow she survives once more, something that at point in her life felt was to punish her for the sins of her past, to live while those she loved perished, however perhaps it was that she needed to live to be able to guide the son whom never knew her, to regain their home from those who thought to steal and destroy it. The poor maester looked both exhausted and fearful when tending to the she-wolf’s wounds, all those nearby more than likely hearing the curses and threats that left her lips, to be knit picked and fussed over was never something the woman enjoyed, and with the pain felt the last thing she wanted was to be prodded and moved about. The sight of Jon has her attempting to sit up but quickly reminded why she was unable to, and leans back against the pillow, eyes shifting between him and the elderly man who soon left them to be alone and closing the door behind him. 

“Such would not be the first time I have done so…” A wry chuckle follows when looking at him, reminded of when they once said the same when she birthed her son, they did not think she would survive the night given how much blood there was along with the fever; yet the Gods saw to it that she did. There is a brief silence at his question, head turning away when feeling her throat become dry and eyes burning with a building ushed moisture, trying to think of what to say, how to say it, never did she think there would be a chance to have this discussion and now that they were, she was a loss for words. “You need not correct yourself, Ned was a father to you, he raised you as his own.” Emotion seeps through when mentioning her beloved brother, the memory of his loss still fresh in her mind, only when he mentions her being ashamed of him does the mother now meet his gaze, her own sharp and almost scolding. “I was not ashamed of you, not even for a moment. You were my greatest joy, the one thing aside from your father that I loved most in this world” 

“I made Ned swear to me that he would protect you, and so he did…because he loved you just as I do.” As painful as it was, she came to sit up, just slightly squeezing his hand that was in hers, looking at him now so that he could see the seriousness in her gaze, to convey just how true all her words were. “I did not hide you away out of shame, but out of love, because there was no other way…if you were to be with me then all would know who you truly were…Robert would have killed you in a single breath.” Hand trembled now, a hard knot forming in her throat before swallowing slowly, and her heart now echoed in her ears. “Because…your true father…was Rhaegar Targaryen.”

[bluearc009]

Pietro: her power cell recharge itself as she moves it's a revolution in robotic longevity.

Jaune raise his hand

Pietro: yes

Jaune: can you f# her?

Pietro:(confused) excuse me?

Jaune: can you f# her?

Pietro: no

Jaune, Ruby and Winter upset and leave

Winter: what was the point of all that.

Ruby: why build a robot woman if you can't have sex with her.

[ahn1zos]

No One Falls AU

In my AU, where nobody fell down the bridges, both Winter and Penny got severely injured. The girls (and surprisingly Neo) came just in the for the Schnee after defeating Cinder, who, again, ran with the relic after the massive silver eyes outburst Ruby had due Penny getting attacked. Jaune made it to Vacuo and started healing Penny there. After Team RWBY+ Neo and Winter got in Vacuo, it was just a matter of time till the Kingdom’s forces found them.

So yeah, Neo after getting by double-crossed by Cinder and saved by Ruby, doesn’t really know what to do now.

My drawing is Weiss having a breakdown due Penny and Winter’s conditions, she blames herself. I’ll give more details on later posts cus making an AU is very fun lol.

[azzther]

pspspspssp new Weiss art just dropped, check it out

[evilrwbyfan]

wanted to try out a new brush so i chose winter and penny as my victims

[swifteforeverandalways]

My favorite RWBY ships:

Bumbleby (Blake Belladona/Yang Xiao Long)

Nuts n Dolts (Ruby Rose/Penny Polendina)

FrosenSteel (Ruby Rose/Penny Polendina/Weiss Schnee)

Crosshares (Coco Adel/Velvet Scarlatina)

Arkos (Jaune Arc/Pyrrha Nikos)

Renora (Lie Ren/Nora Valkyrie)

Qrowver/Fair Game (Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi)

Qrowin/Snowbirds (Qrow Branwen/Winter Schnee)

Team STR (Summer Rose/Taiyang Xiao Long/Raven Branwen)

Rosegarden (Ruby Rose/Oscar Pine) *note: without Ozpin*

[zoklaperzys]

His   life   had   been   a   lie   upon   lie.   His   life   protected   as   if   he   was   precious   cargo,   taken   to   Winterfell   on   a   lie   that   tarnished   a   man's   honor,   and   his   wife's   very   own.   Jon   had   grown   up   on   Winterfell   under   the   illusion   and   desire   of   Lady   Catelyn   to   accept   him   as   a   son,   or   perhaps,   as   just   a   child.   But   she   had   never   done   such   a   thing.   Ned   Stark   had   died   with   an   empty   promise   on   his   lips   and   the   secret   to   his   grave.   And   somehow,   life   finds   a   way   and   Jon   finds   the   truth   of   his   parentage.

  He   is   a   wolf,   yes,   Lyanna's   blood   is   his   own   but   he   pays   no   mind   because   his   reality   does   not   change;   he   is   the   product   of   a   man   who   dishonored   his   wife,   names   change,   but   in   the   end,   that   remains   the   truth.   He   is   a   bastard   by   a   different   name;   a   dragon   prince's   blood   through   him.   A   man   whose   name   he   had   grown   to   hate   through   the   histories   given   in   Winterfell.   He   remembers   clapping   with   thunderous   applause   when   King   Robert   had   boosted,   already   too   drunk   to   care,   about   how   he   had   killed   Rhaegar   Targaryen,   his   war   hammer   smearing   down   the   Trident   with   the   prince's   blood.

  Jon   had   clapped   the   tales   of   the   death   of   his   blood   father.   "You   spend   years   hiding   the   truth.   And   am   I   expected   to   say   something   now?"   It's   what   he   manages   to   say.   He   had   been   told   he   had   the   Stark   looks,   and   no   one   questioned   he   was   Ned   Stark's   son,   gloom   and   sullen   looks   he   shared   with   the   man,   also   seem   to   carry   the   reality   of   his   mother's   true   looks.   @steel-winter-rose . ♡

[zoklaanogar]

a starter for @steel-winter-rose

" YOUR GRACE . " nods the WHITE WOLF , hands resting on the hilt of LONG CLAW. at court , jon is RESPECTFUL of his mother's title , of the role she plays as QUEEN aside his father. rarely has the young man slipped , addressing her as mother by mistake. as the realm's PRINCE , he is all too aware of the many eyes upon him , scrutinizing his EVERY move ; he'd be DAMNED if he gave courtiers ammunition for gossip.

HIS GREAT WHITE DIREWOLF PADS SILENTLY ACROSS THE HALL , nudging jon's hand with his snout. jon idly runs his fingers through ghost's fur. " THE KING said you'd sent for me? "

[spartanblacksmith]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/57169342

Chapter 7 of "Forges of Remnant" is out.

Embers of the Past, Ashes of the Future.

[httpvomitello]

Winter’s Court *⁠.⁠✧

The biting chill of Winterfell’s grand hall was nothing like the temperate warmth of your home. The Targaryen banners you brought with you fluttered weakly in the cold wind that seeped through the ancient stone walls, a stark contrast to the bold Stark direwolf that loomed above the dais.

You had been chosen to speak to Cregan Stark in Jacaerys’ stead. Your brother had insisted, claiming your calm demeanor and softer voice might better appeal to the notoriously stoic Warden of the North. Yet now, standing in the imposing hall surrounded by grim-faced Northern lords, your confidence waned.

You stood with your head high, clad in warm furs layered over the black and red of House Targaryen. Despite the heat of the roaring hearths, a shiver crept up your spine—not from the cold, but from the weight of countless eyes appraising you.

Cregan Stark himself was a vision of the North—broad-shouldered and tall, with a strong jaw and dark hair falling past his ears. His piercing grey eyes seemed to see through you as he rose to greet you.

“My lady,” he greeted, his deep voice reverberating in the chamber. “I trust your journey was not too harsh?”

You curtsied, inclining your head respectfully. “The cold is…a challenge, my lord, but manageable.” Your voice was softer than you intended, nearly swallowed by the crackling fires.

Cregan smiled faintly, his lips quirking as though he were unused to the expression. “You’ll find our Northern winters make southerners hardy—or drive them away.”

A faint ripple of laughter echoed from the gathered lords, though their gazes remained fixed. Heat crept up your neck, but you forced a polite smile. “I would not seek to insult your land by fleeing, my lord. I am here to represent my family, and I take that duty seriously.”

His brow arched slightly, impressed by your resolve despite your quiet tone. “A noble answer. Let us speak further by the fire. The cold will do neither of us any favors.”

He gestured for you to join him closer to the hearth, and as you walked, you felt the weight of the lords’ stares lessen. When you reached the stone hearth, Cregan poured two cups of mulled wine himself, handing one to you.

“Your brother sends you to make your case,” he said, watching as you took a small sip. “Why not come himself?”

You hesitated, unsure if the truth—that Jacaerys thought you’d be better suited—would insult him. “My brother trusts me to speak with honor and sincerity. He believes you would appreciate a softer voice amid all this northern steel.”

Cregan chuckled, a warm sound that made you glance up. “A softer voice, perhaps, but your words are sharp. I respect that.”

The flicker of a smile warmed your face. “I’m grateful for your kindness, Lord Stark.”

His eyes lingered on yours for a moment longer than propriety might allow, his gaze softening. “You need not call me ‘Lord.’ Cregan will do.”

You nodded, your cheeks flushing at his informal tone. “Very well…Cregan.”

He stepped closer, his broad frame casting a comforting shadow. “You seem uneasy. Is it the Northmen that frighten you, or am I so intimidating?”

The gentle tease in his voice surprised you, drawing a soft laugh from your lips. “It is…a new experience, being surrounded by so many warriors. The North is unlike any place I’ve known.”

Cregan’s expression softened further, a protective edge to his voice. “You have nothing to fear here, my lady. You are a guest of Winterfell, and I will ensure you are treated with the respect you deserve.”

His words wrapped around you like a cloak, warming you far better than the fires. “Thank you, Cregan. That means more than you know.”

As the evening wore on, you found yourself relaxing in his company. He asked about your family, your home, even your dragon, listening intently to every word. The Northern lords faded into the background as Cregan’s steady presence became your anchor.

When the hour grew late and the hall began to empty, he turned to you once more. “Will you allow me to show you the godswood tomorrow? The weirwoods are a sight unlike any in the South.”

You hesitated, a shy smile tugging at your lips. “I would like that.”

His answering smile was genuine, his grey eyes gleaming in the firelight. “Good. Until tomorrow, then.”

As you retired for the night, you couldn’t help but feel that Winterfell’s cold was not so unbearable after all—not with Cregan Stark.