sansa's face ; ;


“You’re going to die tomorrow, Lord Bolton. Sleep well.”


                                           Lies and Arbor gold, she thought.

Everyone seems to think that Daenerys will marry Jon Snow to unite the North and South once she’s on the Iron Throne but has no one thought that she could marry Sansa to do that? Daenerys can’t have children anyway and I would not at all be surprised if she would be wary of marrying a man should he then try to usurp her due to her gender, plus Jon is her nephew and if he stayed in the North that would be better for her, having a Targaryen in control in both the North and South. 

No Sansa would be the perfect political choice for Daenerys to marry. Sansa is a true Stark, the North is loyal to her, she is knowledgable about Southern politics, and she would not want the crown for herself and betray Daenerys, she’s strong and proud and faced hardships. Sansa supporting Daenerys as they ruled would honestly be the best thing that could happen for both them and the kingdom.


arya stark meme | five relationships ► arya and sansa

↳   She scooped up a handful of snow and squeezed it between her fingers. Heavy and wet, the snow packed easily. Sansa began to make snowballs, shaping and smoothing them until they were round and white and perfect. She remembered a summer’s snow in Winterfell when Arya and Bran had ambushed her as she emerged from the keep one morning. They’d each had a dozen snowballs to hand, and she’d had none. Bran had been perched on the roof of the covered bridge, out of reach, but Sansa had chased Arya through the stables and around the kitchen until both of them were breathless. She might even have caught her, but she’d slipped on some ice. Her sister came back to see if she was hurt. When she said she wasn’t, Arya hit her in the face with another snowball, but Sansa grabbed her leg and pulled her down and was rubbing snow in her hair when Jory came along and pulled them apart, laughing.


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

(…) The Many-Faced God can have the rest, she thought, he can’t have this.


arya stark meme | six scenes ► arya and eddard, 1x04 cripples, bastards, and broken Things

↳   “ Arya cocked her head to one side. “Can I be a king’s councillor and build castles and become the High Septon?”
  “You,” Ned said, kissing her lightly on the brow, “will marry a king and rule his castle, and your sons will be knights and princes and lords and, yes, perhaps even a High Septon.”
  Arya screwed up her face. “No,” she said, “that’s Sansa.” She folded up her right leg and resumed her balancing. Ned sighed and left her there. ”

Long story short, @goodqueenalys sent me a bunch of videos of kids FREAKING OUT after their father’s shaved off their beards (see exhibit a: X ), so naturally my fandom trashy brain did a thing.

Aemon let out a hearty wail, his face pinched red with distress. Jon tried to soothe his son, drawing him to his chest and rocking him the way that always seemed to work in the past, but Aemon would not be calmed. He squirmed desperately in Jon’s arms and seemed to cry louder at Jon’s attempts to hold him close.

“There, there now my sweet boy. Come here. Shh. It’s alright,” Sansa cooed, rising from where her maid was finishing her hair for the feast and taking Aemon from Jon. “It’s alright, sweetling. Mama has you.”

Jon watched as Aemon’s wails quieted into snuffily whimpers and he buried his little face against Sansa’s neck.

Keep reading

Fanged Sans
He’s too cool a character, aaaw, this is not a sin to fall in love. ahaha.
I wanted to try to paint him in a slightly evil way, but he too turns out nice, eh.
Will not work I draw angry faces, ahaha.
But I like the look of Sansa, especially with glasses.
In some AU, its the same paint in the glasses! Why can’t I? heh.
But the fur on the hood, he’s not Canon, but it is also sometimes draw. And with the fur it sweeter for it.


I wish the Hound were here. The night of the battle, Sandor Clegane had come to her chambers to take her from the city, but Sansa had refused. Sometimes she lay awake at night, wondering if she’d been wise. She had his stained white cloak hidden in a cedar chest beneath her summer silks. She could not say why she’d kept it. The Hound had turned craven, she heard it said; at the height of the battle, he got so drunk the Imp had to take his men. But Sansa understood. She knew the secret of his burned face. 

sansa stark meme[½] relationships  Sandor Clegane


Every time I’m faced with a decision, I close my eyes and see the same picture. Whenever I consider an action, I ask myself, will this action help to make this picture a reality? Pull it out of my mind and into the world? And I only act if the answer is yes. A picture of me on the Iron Throne… and you by my side.

4x04 | 6x10 › for @kingpetyr

The Utter and Egregious Fallacy of “That Was Just What Happened In Medieval Times”

Right, so. I’m angry all over again and I’m going to be angry for a while, because if I see one more idiot defending the rape scene over the fact that “that was just what happened in medieval times,” I am going to put a brick through my computer screen. This won’t be as long or as in-depth as I want it to be, since I have to go to work soon, but my medieval historian buttons have been pushed to a sufficient degree that I have to make some response to all this. So without further ado:

  • Legislation to protect women and children was an idea as far back as the seventh goddamn century (and before), but it certainly appeared in the western Christian/Latin legal canon with Adamnan of Iona’s “Law of the Innocents.” Christianity itself modified existing Greco-Roman social codes to give women (who had no rights at all in antiquity) a surprising amount of protection and recognition in marriage and society. Was this always followed? Of course not. But you can bet your ass it was a thing, and one of the reasons early Christianity was so suspiciously received, due to its lenient treatment of women, slaves, the poor, the leprous, and other outcasts.
  • On that note, we call them “the Dark Ages” because we are a bunch of Eurocentric assholes who figure all of civilization collapsed when Rome fell. Yes, Western Europe wasn’t doing so hot, but everywhere else was flourishing – socially, culturally, religiously, artistically.
  • The Vikings were forward-thinking as hell with their legal treatment of women (so, for that matter, were the Welsh). Both cultures allowed a wife to separate from her husband with no penalty if he was abusing her, and in the Vikings’ case, he would be shamed and socially ridiculed for being such a low-down tool as to mistreat a woman. The Vikings did not fuck around. And among the Welsh, maternal inheritance and property rights counted just as much as paternal.
  • Rape was physically and brutally punishable in England from at least the 11th century on. Prior to the Norman Conquest, it was treated as an offense for which one had to pay weregild – literally “man money” – the same as when someone was murdered. Post-Norman Conquest, you got your goddamn dick chopped off, the same as thieves lost a hand and oathbreakers lost tongues. You see the pattern? It was a serious crime. People weren’t just out raping all and sundry. The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle (otherwise not fond of William) eulogized him as a “violent but very wise” man, and praised him for making England so safe that an unarmed man or maiden girl could travel the roads without fear of robbery or molestation.
  • If you were a dude that everyone hated, you got accused of rape and mistreatment of women. It wasn’t cool.
  • Due to the teachings of the third century Roman physician Galen, it was believed that a woman could not conceive if she didn’t have an orgasm. No, this does not mean that medieval couples were trying positions from the Kama Sutra every night (the Church still had strict guidelines on when and where and how you were supposed to do the do) but it also doesn’t mean that women’s pleasure was some completely mystical and/or unthinkable idea.
  • Likewise, early consummation DID happen (Margaret Beaufort, Eleanor of Castile) but it was frowned on. The Church imposed penalties on husbands who consummated their marriage too early, and while noble girls were generally married around 14-16, commoner girls were about the same age as today (early-mid twenties) and could often marry for love, depending on their social station.
  • While marital rape and abuse was not legally recognized or classified as a crime, that didn’t mean it went unpunished. Since most noble marriages were business transactions, that meant the wife was an investment of some value, and a sure way to piss off her menfolk (and the Pope) was to mistreat and abuse her. King Philip II of France spent years under interdict and excommunication for his appalling treatment of his second wife, Ingeborg, and was ultimately forced to capitulate and take her back. The Pope would in fact often champion the causes of mistreated noble wives (usually to force concessions out of her husband, but still). Annulment and separation, while unusual, were not completely impossible, and did happen – one of the chief grounds for it being granted was mistreatment and abuse.
  • Furthermore, the code of chivalry specified honorable treatment for noblewomen. Of course, this did not mean it was lived out in practice, and common women were fair game, but there was in fact an existing and well-known legal framework for how you were supposed to treat your womenfolk – Ramsay would have been as reviled in the medieval era as he is to our modern sensibilities. Medieval people weren’t different from us and out rape rape rapin the livelong day. In fact, I would hazard a guess that it’s gotten MORE common now that we, you know, no longer chop the goddamn dicks off people and they generally skate with no consequence.
  • Besides, the “the medieval era was dark and barbaric” attitude relies on the mistaken narrative of “progress,” i.e. things were terrible back then and have been constantly evolving to this point in time, where we no longer do the gross things they did. DING DONG YOU ARE WRONG! This is a historiographical fallacy to excuse our own atrocities and act like the cost of the modern world was “necessary” for “developing” us to who we are now, and that all the bloodshed, death, colonialism, world wars, etc can’t possibly be as bad as what they did Back In The Day. Saying “people got raped back then!” is implicitly saying “and they don’t get raped today, because Progress.” It’s incredibly stupid and hypocritical. So don’t even start that shit with me.
  • Last, these are not real events magically happening outside anyone’s control. This is a television show written by 21st century people. They have repeatedly used rape as a clumsy plot device in the past. They continued to do so and twisted it this time to happen to a beloved major character purely for the self-admitted purpose of shock value. They planned it since season 2 and waited for Sophie Turner to come of age so they could shoot it legally. So acting like GoT is this pseudo “medieval world” where nobody had any control over the fact that Sansa was put in a position to be violated by Ramsay is again, laughably facetious. They manipulated the story, characters, and narrative to be sure that this happened. They made a writing choice. Hence we are going to criticize that writing choice. We have as much right to do that as they do to create it in the first place. It’s called consequences. “Free speech” does not mean you get to say whatever you want and no one can challenge or correct you. It means the government can’t put you in jail or otherwise legally harass you with the mechanisms of the state for it. Someone else using their free speech to call you a fucking idiot is perfectly legal.
  • In conclusion: No, the medieval era was not some beacon of rights and happiness for women. Terrible things could and did happen. But they excited just as much public outrage as they did today, and were oftentimes more harshly punished (at least if you were noble born, because CLASSISM! Take a shot). Every bit of development and progress we HAVE made was extremely hard won. But quit acting like it was just an inevitable, normal, and necessary fact of life in medieval times. Because you know nothing, Jon Snow.

Imagine being betrothed to Robb and you and Arya are really close and you two always cause trouble in Winterfell.

“I bet you can’t flick that spoonful of potatoes onto Sansa.” You murmured quietly to Arya.

“Challenge accepted.” Arya smirked before flicking the potatoes right onto Sansa’s face. Sansa gasped, instantly turning and yelling at you and Arya.

Robb shook his head from beside you as you and Arya collapsed into giggles, “By the gods, what sort of woman am I marrying.” He teased.

“Oh hush,” You grinned, “You like my mischievous side.” He leaned down to kiss you when a spoonful of peas were flicked on you and Robb. You turned to glare at Arya who was grinning innocently.

“We should practice. To make sure we don’t do it wrong,” Sansa’s voice broke the fog of sleep. He groaned loudly as he once again was awakened.

“What?” He mumbled as sleep escaped him once again. “Why would we need to practice?”

“To make sure we don’t do it wrong,” Sansa sighed and sounded like she was explaining something to a child.

“Haven’t we already done most of it wrong? Sansa, you’re giving yourself away,” he said, pointing out the obvious. Sansa’s face dropped before closing off.

“Well yes, but I just thought,” Sansa’s voice trailed off. He groaned and pushed himself up, holding his hand out for her to take.

“Let’s do it then,” Sansa grinned at him and pulled herself up before running towards his bed. She pulled the blanket off and wrapped it around her shoulders as if it were a cloak. He snickered at the sight of her like this. She looked ridiculous with the huge blanket drowning her so that only her face was still visible.

“Well, get your cloak,” she said, sounding impatient. “We only have a couple of hours until the wedding. We need to make this quick.”

“And who’s fault is that? I was happily sleeping and at peace,” he sniped but went towards his closet and picked the first cloak that was there, wrapping it around himself.

He turned to face her and they both stared at each other for what seemed like ages before bursting into laughter.

“We both look ridiculous,” Sansa giggled and he chuckled too. They certainly did look a sight.

“The bards and singers will sing about this moment.  The Bastard and the Lady and their ridiculous cloaks.” He walked back to Sansa’s side and wrapped his arms around her. She leaned against him and laughed even harder.

“Jon stop! The bards will sing about all that we did for love and passion,” Sansa said, sounding as dreamy and awe-struck as the girl that he had once known. His face softened as he took in her rosy cheeks and the huge smile on her face.

“They’ll sing about our terrible cloaks too.” He barked out a laughter but pushed her away.

“Sansa, we have a wedding in a few hours. We need to make this quick,” he said, parroting her words. Sansa scowled but let go of him and walked backwards.

They stared at one another again. He suddenly felt nervous. This was only pretend but would if he made a mistake would he have time to fix it in time for the wedding? We’re they even making the right decision? Everything was still so uncertain, including their lives. I could die. Would it be fair to leave Sansa a widow, perhaps even with a child.  But then he looked at Sansa who was smiling and looking radiant and lovely despite the blanket that drowned her figure and his fears were quited. He would be marrying Sansa. The woman that he loved more than life itself.  The woman had given him hope that had made him feel complete. His love and partner and friend.

He took a deep breath and spoke: “Who comes?  Who comes before the Gods?” Sansa straightened, taking a couple of tentative steps towards him.

“Sansa of House Stark comes here to be wed. She comes to beg thr blessing of the Gods. Who comes to claim her?” Sansa’s voice was steady and regal.

“I, Jon Snow, come to claim her. Who comes to give her?” He didn’t hesitate on the name. It came out so easily. It seemed that under all the fancy titles and names, he was simply him, a Snow. Sansa’s smile seemed to get bigger and her eyes turned glassy as if she was about to cry. He took a step forward suddenly concerned but Sansa just waved him off and smiled through her tears. I’m happy, she mouthed to him.

“I give myself away,” Sansa breathed out sounding happy and relieved and proud.

“Will you take me, Sansa Stark?” He asked.

“I take you Jon Snow.” The words lifted a heavy weight off his shoulders. It was as if in that moment he was light and free and complete, as if something had just slid into place. It shouldn’t have shocked him, that she had accepted him but he could still feel relief and happiness. This was only a play wedding but it was as if they were man and wife.

There we no friends or family to or Gods to bear witness. No one but themselves to see this but it was enough, more than enough. Wedding or not. He would always view this night as the night they became man and wife.

Sansa stepped towards him, slow and tentative until she was right before him. She cupped his cheeks with both hands and he brought them up to his lips, laying a soft a tender kiss against each palm. There was no Godswood to kneel before so he moved his fingers to the blankets and pushed it off. It fell to the ground with a gentle thud. He then untied his own cloak and swept it over her shoulders, fiddling with the clasps to get it to stay.

“Am I wed to the realm too now?” He looked up at Sansa. His eyes widened at the sight of the cloak. It was his old Nights Watch cloak. He didn’t even realise he still had it with him.  It was a startling sight seeing Sansa wrapped in thay cloak but he could feel his balls stir. Sansa looked good in black.

“No, you are wed to me,” he said before pulling Sansa in for a deep kiss. Sansa finally broke away from him with a grin in her face.

“Jealous, husband?” His heart leapt with joy at the use of husband but he shook his head.

“Always,  endlessly, completely jealous,” each word was punctured with a kiss. Sansa gently pushed him away and stared for a moment as if she was suprised.

“I love you so much,” she breathed out. Warmth spread throughout his body at those words. Would he ever tire at hearing them from her?

“I love you too wife.” Sansa gasped at the title. “But we’re married now and tonight is our wedding night.” She gasped now for entirety different reasons and gave him a hard swat against his arm. He picked her up and she squealed loudly,  instinctively wrapping her arms around him.

“Jon! The wedding is in a couple of hours. It’s not proper,” Sansa protested loudly but her legs wrapped around his waist.

“You should have thought about that before you came into my room and attempted to seduce me,” he laughed.  Sansa shot him a glare. He was certain that she would have swatted him again if it was not for her gripping onto him.

“I didn’t attempt to seduce you. I did,” she tartly corrects him. He grins at the little snipe and lays her down on the bed. She backs up until she’s at the head of thr bed, him crawling after her.

“Exactly, how could I have even tried to say no when you are such a great seductress.” Sansa rolls her eyes but groans when he leaves a kiss behind the sensitive area behind her ear.

“I don’t remember you protesting,” she grumbled. He pushed the heavy cloak out of his way and lazily palmed at her breast and she keened and arched into him.

“I did!  You just didn’t notice with how your mind was focused on one thing.”

“Jon!” Sansa swats at him and he dodges and rolls away. She escapes from his bed and turns to face him. “I will see you tomorrow, husband” she finally sits up and leaves.