#vargo hoat

[greenbloods]

the black goat at harrenhal the symbol of qohor 150 years later the Goat will take harrenhal the visions show what will come to pass and the shadows dance backwards in time

[gotham-at-nightfall]

Jaime loses his sword hand

They mean to scare me. The fool hopped on Jaime’s back, giggling, as the Dothraki swaggered toward him. The goat wants me to piss my breeches and beg his mercy, but he’ll never have that pleasure. He was a Lannister of Casterly Rock, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard; no sellsword would make him scream. Sunlight ran silver along the edge of the arakh as it came shivering down, almost too fast to see. And Jaime screamed. ~A Storm of Swords (Jaime III)

By Hed-ush

[slymreddwyne]

Howd it take me so long to realize "The Bear and the Maiden Fair" is about Jaime and Brienne at Harrenhal?

Brienne is the Dancing Bear

Jaime is the Maiden Fair

Harrenhal (site of a significant tourney/fair) is the Fair

Vargo Hoat is the Goat

And the Bloody Mummers with him were the Three Boys

[thewatcher0nthewall]

[wpmorse]

The beast turned clumsily, too far and too fast. Quick as a cat, Brienne changed direction. There's the wench I remember. She leapt in to land a cut across the bear's back. Roaring, the beast went up on his hind legs again. Brienne scrambled back away. Where's the blood? Then suddenly he understood. Jaime rounded on Hoat. "You gave her a tourney sword."

Jamie VI - 617

Brienne is made to fight the bear the Bloody Mummers caught in the last book. Here we see her getting a shot in, giving her a moment of relief before she realizes how useless it is. It was nice showing how badass Brienne is even in a rigged game. Though, I am embarrassed about how this bear turned out. It looks good, now that I fixed it in post. But considering how often I draw the ones in the zoo it should have been better.

[zetaaa]

Still mad about it.

No, my dear Jaime, you don't leave a girl wench behind after Roose "Skinner" Bolton tells her she has to worry about herself, and a lot. You don't do that. What the hell were you thinking?!??

(⬆ definitely not me dealing with the disappointment by making a bear pit GIF without Jaime)

(If there is any good in this GIF, it is thanks to Magali Villeneuve's amazing artwork, which inspired me. You can find it also here ���)

[death-of-cats]

GRRM writing ASOIAF like:

Cannibalism: 😀

Forced cannibalism: 😃🥰🔥

Forced self-cannibalism: 🔥🔥😄😘🔥🔥💯‼️❤️

[someasoiafart]

The Brave Companions by Caterina Gerbasi

[asoiafandotherbooks]

Watch "Was the Red Wedding Foreshadowed?" on YouTube

[thetormentita]

i got a req!!

Jaime x reader stark ( twin sister of robb )

they already married. Just make it smut and the plot depend on you author. I just wanna read some smut 🤭🤭

Omg, my first request ☺️🙈

a wolf in lion’s clothing

no matter the loss, a daughter of the North is not defeated until she says so.

Pairing: Reader! Stark x Jaime Lannister

A/n: warnings of smut, teasing, somewhat dark!Jaime (c’mon, give him a break, he has lost a hand and we all hate Vargo Hoat). Reader is Robb’s twin, but I did not want to feast over the Red Wedding because my Northern little heart aches for it 😢, let’s say she knows they are gone but not the whole circumstances

Rating: Explicit (+18)

Damned be the day you left Winterfell.

Damned be the day you and Sansa were trapped by the Lannisters.

Damned be the day your future was sentenced by your brother’s enemy.

Damned be the day you were taken to Casterly Rock, far from anything you knew, and surrounded you by unknown faces.

Damned be the day that shining knight had been relieved of his position as a Kingsguard and pushed to assume the status of heir to the Westerlands.

Damned be the day you were forced to marry him.

Damned be the day you found that he is the least bad of all that wretched family.

Damned be the day he went to war and returned maimed, with all his pride taken of him.

It had taken you all of your strength to not fall apart when you have seen that man coming from captivity, and all the courage you did not knew you had to not die when you heard him say that he feared that you would have gone to The Twins.

“What keeps you that busy? I haven’t seen you since lunch” You say with a soft smile when you come into the library and find him focused over a pile of dusty parchments. He looks up, a mixture of surprise and relief washing over his face. Sometimes he still flinches when somebody catches him by surprise, you think it is because of his moons as a prisoner.

“Ah, Y/N,” he replies, his voice carrying a hint of warmth. “I've been trying to sort through these old records,” he explains, gesturing to the mess of papers before him.

“It is dark outside, my love. You should rest," you suggest gently, glancing toward the window where the last sliver of sunlight has vanished. “The past cannot be changed, but exhaustion won't aid in the future,” you continue, moving closer to his side, kissing his hair once you are next to your husband.

He sighs deeply, nodding as he leans into your comforting touch. Eyes closed, he murmurs, “I know you're right. I just can't shake the feeling that there's something I've overlooked within these pages.”

“It just surely can wait” your hand lays upon his shoulder, tracing the way to the other with care. “Your mind needs as much rest as your body,” you insist, urging him to set the parchments aside.

He hesitates for a moment, eyes lingering on the scattered documents, before finally conceding, turning to face you with a softness in his look you have not seen in ages. A loving smile tugs from the corners of your lips as the other hand goes to his cheek, soothing the worry etched there. “Come,” you coax gently, drawing him away from the desk, “you can revisit the mysteries of the past with a clearer mind tomorrow.”

With a hum he manages to tug you towards him, falling on his lap. He wraps his arms around you, resting his forehead against yours, taking a moment to breathe in the calmness you provide. “You always know how to bring peace to my mind,” he whispers, pressing a grateful kiss to your temple.

You bite your lower lip, a playful glint in your eyes. “It's a gift,” you reply with a soft laugh, snuggling closer to him, brushing his lips with yours, tempting. “Perhaps we should see what tomorrow brings,” you suggest, teasingly brushing your nose against his.

“Screw tomorrow” he tries to kiss you, only for you to lean back slightly, just out of reach, your eyes gleaming with mischief. He chuckles, recognizing your playful challenge, and gently pulls you back toward him with a quiet determination . “No escaping now,” he murmurs, capturing your lips this time, their warmth reminding you of the comfort and safety he has always offered you.

The kiss deepens, each moment a promise of shared dreams and unspoken futures. Unconsciously you make yourself comfortable on his lap, giving up to his wondering hand on your back. With a contented sigh, you melt into his embrace, letting the world outside momentarily fade away. Time stands still as the mingling rhythm of your hearts becomes the only sound. His fingers trace light patterns across your back, grounding you in this perfect moment.

You end the kiss only to trace with your lips his jawline, earning pleasured sighs as he tilts his head to leave you an unbroken expanse of skin to explore, which you gladly pamper, a deep part in your mind yelling at you that right now the only salvation you have is to make that man sire children with you.

A wanton moan escapes your lips as you feel the bulge pressing against you, a reminder of his desire matching your own. You quickly change your position, riding his lap, as your quick fingers start unbuttoning his doublet, your eyes clouded with lust.

“Y/N…” he whispers, almost a purr as your kisses go down to his collarbone while you teasingly rock your hips against him. A muffled moan escapes your lips when you feel his hand and the golden prothesis caress your thighs under your skirt. “My little she-wolf”

Your hands roam free to his hair, your fingers curling against it, ripping a soft moan from his lips, half muffled by yours when you press a needing kiss.

“What if somebody comes—?”

“They will see their future lord fucking his wife and putting a little lion inside her.” as you talk your fingers quickly go to his breeches, unlacing them, searching for the object of your desire. “Wouldn’t it be wonderful?” your hands reach his cock and free it, going up and down of it before driving it directly to your folds, making him discover what you have spend days doing —purposely leaving your undergarments aside to get him fuck you. “Wouldn’t my lord like little lions playing free along the Rock?” you purr to his ear, gladly earning a lustful groan, making it the signal to slowly go down his length, silently moaning as your wetness takes all his cock and your folds glide over it with little to no effort.

Your hips keep rocking over his lap, swallowing all of him in the process, as you let yourself go, free to enjoy a pleasure that can guarantee your safety.

What at the beginning had been just wanton moans with the only purpose to entice your husband turn to feel true, to really drive you helpless as you give up to any restrains you had towards the man who had pliantly followed instructions that had led to the disappearance of what you once dared to call ‘home’. With the golden hand by the lower part of your back, his left subtly goes to the lower part of your belly, his dexterous fingers adventuring the way towards your sweet spot, its tips teasing it, tearing pleasure sounds from your mouth.

It had been days since that shell of a man had started to show himself again, and even more days since the last time he made that easily a mess of you.

“Shh” almost entranced, you lean over him, your sweaty forehead against his, your eyes half-lidded as if the thirst for his touch had possessed your body “The whole castle may hear us.”

The subtle weight of the golden hand forcing you to go slower as your hips try to search his good hand with a hint of desperation to ease the sudden need.

“Jaime—“ you whine, breathless, one of your hands unconsciously returning to his hair “Please."

His lips twist into a crooked smile as you lay featherlight kisses along his jawline, panting.

He knows well how you Starks could behave, because he had seen it with his very eyes at King’s Landing and in the battlefield, and he knows that if he wishes for you to be the mother of proper Lannister children, he has to make sure that you will make a proper lady of the Rock.

“Who do you belong to?” he whispers to your ear before nibbling your earlobe, earning a moan in exchange. “Come on, be a good kitten and speak to me.”

Before you can even try to speak, his fingers retake their ministrations between your legs.

“Jaime—“ you close your eyes in delight.

“Come on, sweet girl.”

It is hard to properly think when you are so close to the edge.

“Yours” you pant, helplessly realizing how tables have turned.

“Such a good girl” he nuzzles against your neck as you try your best to hump against him, perky breasts brushing against his chest from behind the fabric of your dress. “You want to give me heirs, don’t you?” you nod, mewling, half eager, half desperate.

You know too well that you can only survive if you become the mother of any heir to the Rock, and yet you cannot help but find it enticing any time that man does his best to carefully push you to an extreme, even if he tries to make you realize you have left all behind.

“Y/N” he sighs, his lips finding yours as you eagerly kiss him, finding that he is no longer making you stay still, but encouraging you to keep going as his fingers retake their speed in their teasing.

Finally the tingling feeling at your core takes over you and you find yourself muffling your moans against his lips as he releases himself inside you with the clenching of your folds, claiming you as his.

But you don’t care. You were made to endure.

You are a daughter of the North.

And the North never forgets.

[thaliajoy-blog]

Honestly becoming a bit obsessed with the secondary animal association of some ASOIAF girls this Brienne symbolism has made me spiral...

Like level one you've got Sansa who's associated to several bird species - she's a little bird (evoking a sparrow or a dove), she's compared to an exotic talking bird (so a parrot or a parakeet), her false father Littlefinger has a mockingbird as a symbol, & she takes refuge in the Vale, home of the Arryn falcon. Bran wishes he was associated to so many birds...

Then you've got Brienne, who is associated to the bear and to the lion indirectly with Jaime. From there there's the whole maiden & the wild beasts dynamic to consider, this magical connection virgin women have to nature & wild animals (like the unicorn for one), how they "tame" them with their innocence and purity. Brienne "tames" Jaime physically, same with the bear, but she also most importantly does with her purity of heart & dedication to knightly values (and once "tamed" he fights to protect her). You could say Brienne has to deal with a lot of human beasts - like Vargo Hoat, "the Goat", or Rorge & Biter, who are each acting or described as animalistic men, & she fights or kill most of them.

And then you've got Arya - I found it interesting that outside of her wolf self she's associated with either much smaller & tamer animals. She's a grey mouse in Harrenhal, or a weasel & a squirrel... she's also a horse as Arya Horseface (plus association to her aunt Lyanna, the "centaur"), and a cat as Cat of the Cannals.

[pandolfo-malatesta]

Two observations: 1. Brienne knows Jaime.

He is probably the man she knows best, of all the men she knows--better than Renly, much as she may have wished otherwise, and likely better than her father.  Jaime even remarks upon how well they know each other; the feat is greater on her part, since he is the better at hiding his true nature from the world.

She learns that his reputation as a great swordsman is not exaggerated. Even weak and in chains he's nearly able to beat her. It's one of the things that she can't help but admire about him, no matter how poorly she at first thinks of him.

They’re quite literally forced into proximity, where she must clean him and care for him. She is with him at his lowest, when he's lost that which he thinks defines him and gives him purpose, and she keeps him from succumbing to despair. She's able to say the thing he needs to hear to keep him fighting.

She’s the only person who knows the truth about why he killed Aerys. It is the secret he was never supposed to reveal and he entrusts it to her. She carries that knowledge with her, and it changes her, as knowledge is wont to do.

Brienne knows Jaime, and he’s still the one she cries out for in the delirium of her most grievous injury.  She knows him, and she still refuses to condemn him until the threat of a truly terrible injustice forces her to.

2. Jaime chooses Brienne.

True, in some cases he acts merely as any decent human would to another: he uses the oar to help her back into the boat, rather than clubbing her over the head and leaving her to drown, as he thinks he should; he counsels and lies and shouts and is beaten to protect her body and mind and honor from assault.  And early on in their acquaintance he claims no control over the way his body reacts to hers, and over the way his thoughts turn to her.

But time and again he acts to aid her.  He thinks that she is stupid and stubborn and that she deserves whatever happens to her; and he does all he can to prevent it.

It's not enough that he merely returns to Harrenhal for her. He offers Vargo Hoat gold and sapphires in exchange for her safety; when that fails Jaime jumps into the pit to protect her, with no plan and no thought for his own safety. Acting in her defense and protecting her good name becomes a habit.

He gives her what she's always wanted: a sword. But it's not just a sword; it's a priceless weapon and a quest and a chance to do what's right and good and honorable. It's his belief in her.

When Cersei pleads for his help, he burns the letter.  When Brienne tells him she knows where Sansa is, he follows her without question.

[wpmorse]

Lord Tywin looked away, disgusted. "No longer. Ser Gregor's taken the castle. The sellswords deserted their erstwhile captain almost to a man, and some of Lady Whent's old people opened a postern gate. Clegane found Hoat sitting alone in the Hall of a Hundred Hearths, half-mad with pain and fever from a wound that festered. His ear, I'm told."

Jamie Page 853

The Mountain arrives at Harrenhal to provide payback to Vargo maiming Jamie Lannister. It turns out to be quite anticlimactic.

This is the only time you can come close to rooting for Gregor Clegane.

I first imagined having Vargo Hoat sitting on a throne but I couldn't find any evidence that there was a throne in the Hall of a Hundred Hearts. Besides, I thought Hoat would come off as more pathetic sitting alone and abandoned in the middle of the Hall.

You can see everything a week early on my Patreon Page.

[mattyalwayssmokesweed]

“Arya wouldn’t have survived what Sansa went through at the Red Keep” And exactly why? Because she’s an angry girl that can’t shut her mouth and that would’ve gotten her killed? Bullshit

Are we talking about the same girl who managed to escape the Red Keep and lived undercover for days while her father was imprisoned, without reveling her identity to any of the guards that were constantly searching for her? The same girl who managed to keep her identity hidden and traveled with criminals for weeks? The same girl who survived being one of The Mountain’s captives? The same girl who then survived Harrenhal, where she was smart enough to keep her identity hidden from Roose Bolton (who at that time was believed to be one of Robb’s allies) because she couldn’t be sure she would be taken to her family if he knew who she was? The same girl who helped Hot Pie and Gendry escape Harrenhal, the largest castle in the Seven Kingdoms, when she heard Vargo Hoat would take over, and freed the Northmen as well? The same girl who then was taken by the Brotherhood without Banners, and then kidnapped by Sandor Clegane? The same girl that had to watch the body of her older brother, a man she admired, being paraded around as his “allies” cheered on? The same girl that escaped Westeros and managed to get to Braavos (granted she got a free trip to Essos because of Jaqen’s coin, but up until she got to the ship she didn’t have any help)? The same girl who was then taken in and forced to give up everything she had and was? The same girl who was treated almost like a slave there? The same girl that was beaten and belittled? The same girl that was blinded and was forced to get used to life without vision? The same girl that, somehow, survived and endured until that point, outsmarting grown ups and finding “shortcuts” to ensure her survival?

You’re telling me that same girl wouldn’t have been smart enough to survive Cersei and Joffrey, people who she had figured out shortly after meeting them and knew what to do or not do to push their buttons, because she’s good at reading people? She wouldn’t have survived what Sansa survived?

At least Sansa was safe until Robb’s death, because she was a hostage and if something bad where to had happened to her, it would’ve caused outrage on the North. She was the Lannisters’ safety net, of course she wouldn’t have been killed, no matter how crazy Joffrey was —even he was aware of it, and it’s clear when you read her chapters. I’m obviously not trying to take away Sansa’s trauma because she was abused and humiliated in the Red Keep by Joffrey, but there was always someone who intervened (especially after Tyrion married her); that’s a sense of security that Arya never have because no one knew who she was— if she somehow made the wrong move she would’ve been killed, no time to get help from someone or try to prove who she actually was because people wouldn’t have believed her. She was in constant danger and not even being Ned Stark’s daughter was of any help, if anything it put an even bigger target on her back.

So yes, Arya would’ve one hundred percent survived what Sansa went through, because she went through so much worse without having the “privilege” of her parentage to protect her. Stop watering down Arya’s intelligence just because you know Sansa would’ve died on day one if she had been on Arya’s shoes without the privilege of being a lady.

[baelontargaryen]

BOOK ARYA STARK || Family ➸ Catelyn Stark

“Lady Catelyn held a sword to my throat and made me swear to return her daughters. This was your goat’s work. Vargo Hoat, the Lord of Harrenhal!” (Jaime VI, AFFC)

[dontbotherwiththepronunciation]

"It is Arya of House Stark who chews on her lip whenever she is thinking. Are you Arya of House Stark?" - Cat of the Canals, AFFC

She bit her lip. "You may not recall, my lord, as I was littler then . . . but I had the honor to meet you at Winterfell when King Robert came to visit my father Lord Eddard." She lowered her big brown eyes and mumbled, "I'm Arya Stark." - Jaime IX, ASOS

"It won't be no beating, oh, no. I won't lay a finger on you. I'll just save you for the Qohorik, yes I will, I'll save you for the Crippler. Vargo Hoat his name is, and when he gets back he'll cut off your feet."  - Arya VIII, ACOK

"Tell him, you tell him. I'll do what he wants … whatever he wants … with him or … or with the dog or … please … he doesn't need to cut my feet off, I won't try to run away, not ever, I'll give him sons, I swear it, I swear it …" - Theon, ADWD

The direwolf was the sigil of the Starks, but Arya felt more a lamb, surrounded by a herd of other sheep. She hated the villagers for their sheepishness, almost as much as she hated herself. - Arya VI, ACOK

It was the girl who held them here, Lord Eddard's blood, but the girl was just a mummer's ploy, a lamb in a direwolf's skin.  - A Ghost in Winterfell, ADWD

'Why did you make your people lambs, when the world is full of wolves?' - Barristan I, TWOW