there are ghosts in winterfell and i am one of them

Important Female Characters that have been cut out of Game of Thrones

Arianne Martell: The female heir to Dorne who demands recognition and acknowledgement and refuses to be passed over.

“You will not rob me of my birthright!”

Wylla Manderly: Grandaughter of Wyman Manderly, insults the Freys in front of a hall full of people and refuses to be married off. And she has green hair which is pretty sick.

“He was our king! He was brave and good, and the Freys murdered him. If Lord Stannis will avenge him, we should join Lord Stannis”

Val: Sister of mance Rayder’s wife Dalla (who has also been cut) said to be extremely beautiful yet is fiercely independent and strong.

“I am no southron lady but a woman of the free folk. I know the forest better than all your black cloaked rangers. It holds no ghosts for me.”

Mya Stone: One of Robert Baratheon’s bastards, lives in the vale and is in charge of helping people up to the Eyrie.

“Men come and go. They lie, or die, or leave you. A mountain is not a man, though, and stone is a mountain’s daughter. I trust my father, and I trust my mules. I won’t fall.”

Lady Stoneheart: *spoiler alert or not really because she won’t be in the show* Catelyn Stark resurrected seeking revenge on the Frey’s and leading the Brotherhood without banners (there’s your revenge plot D&D)

“She don’t speak. You bloody bastards cut her throat too deep for that. But she remembers.”

Asha Greyjoy: not to be confused with whoever “Yara” Greyjoy is, Asha does not believe in flippantly calling people “cunts” and is not scared of dogs.

“My mother raised me to be bold”

Alysane Mormont: Fights with Stannis’ army and guards Asha when she is captured (oops not really spoilers again) and don’t tell me that they don’t become best friends because they do.

“Mormont women are skinchangers. We turn into bears and find mates in the woods.”

Barbrey Dustin: The widow of Lord Dustin, hates the Starks because she blames Ned for the death of her husband. She is cunning, intelligent and one of Roose Bolton’s biggest supporters in Winterfell (but you know in the show no northern lords are in Winterfell because logic)

The bride weeps … Dressing her in grey and white serves no good if the girl is left to sob. The Freys might not care, but the northmen … they fear the Dreadfort, but they love the Starks.“

All these women are unique, different and complicated, even though some of them do not fit into d&d’s “strong women” or “sexually empowered” archetypes they are important and interesting parts of the story. All of these amazing characters were axed in favor of a storyline depicting a violent rape and that is truly unforgivable and disgusting.

alternate universe in which everything is the same but everyone is named aegon
  1. Aegon Arryn smiled tremulously. “Only one? Oh, Aegon, do you swear it? Only one?”
    “Only Aegon.” He gave her a short, sharp shove.
  2. “Aegon,” she said, tugging on his ear, “sweetling, I have known you since you were a babe at Aegon’s breast. You smile like Aegon and fight like Aegon, and there’s some of Aegon in you, else you would not wear that cloak … but Aegon is Aegon’s son, not you. I said so once to your father’s face, and he would not speak to me for half a year. Men are such thundering great fools. Even the sort who come along once in a thousand years.”
  3. “Let me tell you something about wolves, child. When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives. Summer is the time for squabbles. In winter, we must protect one another, keep each other warm, share our strengths. So if you must hate, Aegon, hate those who would truly do us harm. Septa Aegon is a good woman, and Aegon … Aegon is your sister. You may be as different as the sun and the moon, but the same blood flows through both your hearts. You need her, as she needs you … and I need both of you, gods help me.”
  4. “I am Aegon, father. Who else would I be?”
  5. “Aegon? Aegon? Do we know anyone named Aegon, Aegon?”
    “He means the Lord Commander.”
    “Ohhh. The Great Lord Snow. To be sure. Why do you want to see him? He can’t even wiggle his ears.” Aegon wiggled his, to show he could. They were large ears, and red from cold. “He’s Lord Snow for true now, too bloody highborn for the likes of us.”
    “Aegon has duties,” Aegon said in his defense. “The Wall is his, and all that goes with it.”
  6. Aegon, Aegon, it rhymes with freak.
  7. Only the kindly man knew the Common Tongue. “Who are you?” he would ask her every day.
    “No one,” she would answer, she who had been Aegon of House Stark, Aegon Underfoot, Aegon Horseface. She had been Aegon and Aegon too, and Aegon and Aegon, Aegon the cupbearer, a grey mouse, a sheep, the ghost of Harrenhal … but not for true, not in her heart of hearts. In there she was Aegon of Winterfell, the daughter of Lord Aegon Stark and Lady Aegon, who had once had brothers named Aegon and Aegon and Aegon, a sister named Aegon, a direwolf called Aegon, a half brother named Aegon Snow. In there she was someone … but that was not the answer that he wanted.
  8. “No more than me. It’s only Aegon who says I’m too dumb to be frightened. I get as frightened as anyone.” Aegon bent to scoop up a split log, and tossed it into the fire. “I used to be scared of Aegon, whenever I had to fight him. He was so quick, and he fought like he meant to kill me.” The green damp wood sat in the flames, smoking before it took fire. “I never said, though. Sometimes I think everyone is just pretending to be brave, and none of us really are. Maybe pretending is how you get brave, I don’t know. Let them call you Aegon, who cares?”
  9. Old Aegon had told him the same story once, Aegon remembered, but when he asked Aegon if it was true, his brother laughed and asked him if he believed in grumkins too. He wished Aegon were with them now. I’d tell him I could fly, but he wouldn’t believe, so I’d have to show him. I bet that he could learn to fly too, him and Aegon and Aegon, even baby Aegon and Aegon Snow. We could all be ravens and live in Maester Aegon’s rookery.
  10. “And I’ll serve you the same if you give me trouble,” Aegon threw back. “We’re taking the wench.”
    “Her name is Aegon,” Aegon said. “Aegon, the maid of Tarth. You are still maiden, I hope?”
Most Beautiful: Jon Snow X Reader

And this one is dedicated to the famous and beautiful @restlessanawake who is really awesome! Go check them out! They were a massive help to me in setting up this blog. Hope you enjoy!!

Warnings: Pregnancy. Labor. Fluff overload ;)  One sex joke With him and the whole Stark clan, This is post White Walker War were all is good and Jon knows his parentage, but still goes by Jon Stark, or I guess goes at last. Things are almost too happy. But fear not no one dies.. Well…..Meh

Originally posted by gameofthronefannn

Originally posted by thatfunnyweirdindiechick

“Time to get up love.”

You groaned, pushing away the arms that were attempting to shake you awake and moved closer to the other side of the bed. “Jon.. Lemme sleep. Little Mister Stark would not stop kicking last night. I am surprised you couldn’t feel it actually.” You smirked and opened your eyes, hearing his laughter and he carefully turned you around as he echoed your smirk.

“I told you, my love. It will be a she.” You gave him judging eyes and he rolled his own gray ones, “Even our  Lady Sisters and Lady Aunt is on my side. As is Tyrion.”

“Well while that may be true, Bran is on my side and he has the sight.” She winked while forcing herself to stand slowly. “Speaking of your Aunt and Sister, when will the royal Queen and the Hand be visiting?”

He smiled, standing up so that he could help you while he continued, “Sansa and Tyrion promised to be here by nightfall, but you know the Queen. She said she would be here a fortnight ago… She will do her best to make it for the labor. And Arya, of course, must guard the Queen being the head of the Queen’s Guard.”

Your nine-months were up  and being a Stark, family was essential for all things. Holidays. Name-Days. Weddings. And pregnancies.

As though the stress of almost delivering a child was not enough, the anxiety that holding off the labor until everyone was present was madness. Jon, being around you enough, could tell.

“Fret not, Y/N.” He smiled, pressing his forehead yours and wrapping a robe dress around you for the day and kissed your nose, “They will be here. And now, we must break fast.”

No surprise to the couple, Bran was already down stairs, his plate full as he was working on his sister’s-in-law. Seeing them he stopped and blushed, wheeling towards the two slowly as Jon embraced his brother with a hearty laugh.

Brandon Stark was decreed Lord of Winterfell and Hand of the King of the North, so the three of you were practically inseparable.

“How is the Lord Snow this morning, Y/N?” Bran smiled, wheeling towards her and placing his hands on her belly as Jon sat. “He get you any rest?”

“None.” Jon sighed from across the room, “She was kicking all night.”

This caused both you and Bran to laugh and Bran to say a small, “We shall see.” As the three of you began to eat your food.


A grand feast was the result of Lady Sansa and Lord Tyrion’s arrive, Jon and the imp drinking away while you, Sansa, and Bran sat across the hall, discussing matters of getting Bran married.

“What about the Mormont girl?” You suggested, “She supposedly has the beauty and wits of the Tyrell’s but the strength of her father’s name.”

“The Queens bastard?” Sansa raised her eyebrows, “She is an adventurous girl. Young though, don’t you think?”

Your sister in law had not left you alone since she arrived, her hand barely leaving your belly.

“Besides. I think our Bran has his eyes on the head of House Reed. Lady Meera, is it not?”

With the words of her name, Bran blushed and brushed it off, “Have you and Jon thought of a name?”

You nodded, “Well since he will not listen to me about the gender, I decided Eddard Robb will have to do.” Bran nodded, a bright grin taking away the blush on your face. Sansa gasped.

“I hate to agree with my Lord brother, I do believe that your babe is a girl.” She winked at you causing both of you to laugh as Jon and Tyrion came towards you guys, handing drinks to Bran and Sansa.

Jon broke the laughter, snaking an arm around your waist to your belly as he looked at Sansa and Tyrion, “When are you and the Hand planning to have children, sister?”

Sansa’s face fell and she set down her goblet, Tyrion taking her hand. “We are waiting.” Silence fell between them as they knew what he meant before Tyrion broke it, winking at the youngest Stark,  “We would like to see little Bran wed to the Reed girl first.” Bran blushed as everyone laughed mutter a small no stop as Jon kissed your cheek, then moved to your ear, his beard tickling her cheek.

“Bet it will happen by years end?”

“Please, by months end!” You smirked and he pepper kisses everywhere on your face, causing you to laugh.

“This is why I love you” He smiled.


A few days had passed and you were still waiting on Dany and Arya. Maesters had demanded you bedridden, fearing labor would come any moment though nothing came for a week. Deciding this and seeing your husbands nerves at an all time high, you had forced him to go on a hunt with Tyrion and Bran, promising that Sansa and a hand maiden be at your side.

“I just want you out lil lord.” You groaned, rubbing sleet off your eyes as you had not gotten proper sleep in several days,(basically since Jon left, your baby had been especially persistent in moving all night) “Stop being so feisty like your father and his family.” You smirked at Sansa who laughed. “Where do you the Queen and her personal guard are?”

“You know Daenerys. “ She smiled sadly, rubbing your belly, “And Arya. Stubborn as mules those two.”

“Aye. That is one way to put it.”

Silence fell as you were both occupied as the baby leapt and kicked about the in your belly causing you to hum in attempt to calm him. When at last he stopped, you sighed and Sansa smiled, but only for a moment when you felt something wet between your legs.

Cursing, you looked at Sansa whose eyes twinkled.

“Do you think-”

“Sansa…” You bit your lip to stop you from swearing again, “Get Ghost. He will get Jon. And get the Hand Maiden… Hurry… Please…”

She ran, laughing gleefully and picking up her skirts hollering, “IT’S TIME! THE HEIR TO THE NORTH IS ON THE WAY!” And within minutes, servants came rushing in, dabbing your forehead with a cloth and offering you food and wine as others spread your legs open. All the while all you could do was scream bloody murder.

“I just want my husband!” You whined, “Gods!” You closed eyes and bit your lip to try to and stop tears from falling out of your eyes.

Then you felt the tickle of a beard on your chin and allowed yourself to cry tears of happiness and the man kissed your cheek and slowly wiped your tears away.

“Hush now love. You need to start pushing.”

“I-I-I-I can’t.”

“Yes you can.” He grabbed both her hands and brought them to her lips,”You are strong.. You can do this… I believe in you… Ready?”

You nodded opening your eyes to meet his dark grey (brown in show) ones.



You opened your eyes to see your family sitting in your room, Bran and Arya making small talk, Sansa talking to Jon on the other side and Tyrion discussing matters with the Queen herself.

“Morning love.” Jon said, moving towards you slowly, a swaddle of blankets in his arms. “You did marvelous love.” He kissed your cheek and helped you sit up, placing the bundle in your arms.

“ Who is this?” You smiled brightly as he moved back to the crib. “I was right, wasn’t I?”

“We were both right.” Jon smirked sitting by you on the bed with another bundle, “Eddard Robb and Catelyn Rose.”

“Twins.” You laughed happily, “Huh. Don’t remember that.”

Sansa laughed, kneeling beside you “Don’t see how you could. You were screaming bloody murder.”

“Honestly Y/N.” Arya piped in, “The Queen and I could hear you from outside.”

“Perhaps we will wait forever to have children, my lord husband.” Sansa added.

“She did have two.” The Queen herself added, “I would never imagine having two back to back.”

“You did have three dragons though, your grace.” You smiled, “Can’t imagine that.”

The Queen smiled, making her way towards you, kneeling beside you and looking down at the babe in your arms, “Dany or Daenerys please.. He is handsome, just like his father, and grandfather.”

“Lemme see!” Bran exclaimed, he rolling and Arya going to Jon. “She has dad’s hair. Mum’s eyes.”

“Opposite for him.” Sansa observed.

“Our perfect family.” She smiled at Jon who kissed her hair, bringing her in, “One boy. One girl. Perfect.”

Jon’s face fell, “What, so we can’t have anymore? Not even try?”

Laughter filled the room in a warm feeling as the world calmly faded to peace and laughter.

Nothing could be better and nothing could break their joy.

Headcanon that after Jon pets Drogon the other dragons (especially Rhaegal) won’t leave him alone

  • because they’re basically just overgrown puppies anyway
  • Rhaegal is the most interested in humans; the other dragons don’t really care but he likes to people watch 
  • Rhaegal can’t believe that Drogon got extra attention and he didn’t so he starts low key stalking Jon (which doesn’t really work out well because he’s a huge dragon and isn’t very good at lurking) to get attention (because he’s obviously more handsome than Drogon, but somehow Drogon is the one that everyone likes)
  • Viserion is the first one who thinks there might be something going on between Jon and Dany 
  • Pretty soon they’re talking about it whenever they’re alone together on a hunt or just sunning themselves on Dragonstone because Jon is spending so much time with their mom and they’re not sure if they should kill him or leave him be since he obviously seems to make her so happy
  • Viserion and Rhaegal take their cues from Drogon; after Drogon accepts Jon, they do too
  • Daenerys is always wondering why the dragons stay so close to the island; she doesn’t realize that they’re just interested in keeping tabs on Jon 
  • Once Rhaegal drops a dead sheep practically on top of Jon as a sign of his favor; like a cat, he sometimes likes to take his kills back to his mom to show off. Of course, Jon is more than a little unsettled
  • Viserion has to try to get him to stop it because he’s worried that he’ll screw things up with their mom’s new boyfriend (and he secretly likes Jon himself). When Rhaegal accidentally breaks one of the ramparts off trying to do a low dive Viserion finally takes pity on him and decides to help him out
  • Viserion is basically his chaperone to make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid because Viserion is the Smart One ™ 
  • Rhaegal tries to show off whenever Jon’s around; he’s always trying to execute steep dives and quick turns to show his dexterity
  • Basically Rhaegal is just desperate for attention and is willing to do literally whatever it takes to get it
  • Drogon is the long suffering older brother who really couldn’t care less
  • But they have to make sure that Jon is good enough for their mom first 
  • Rhaegal can’t wait to fly north and save his dad 
  • When Jon finally pets him when they arrive at Winterfell, he literally flops down and rolls over like a dog, eyes half closed in happiness
  • When Jon and Dany get married Rhaegal is the happiest, because he’s literally been rooting for them to get together this whole time 
  • Rhaegal and Ghost vie for the title of most protective of the baby Targs

Mushy fluff for you guys. I really like how this turned out. 

Dany lays awake at night and runs her hands over Jon’s scars. She thinks about them and the man who bears them. Ep 6 spoilers

Pairing: Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen

It was a cold night in the Lord’s chambers of Winterfell, colder than any other night ever seen by the North. The army of the dead were approaching. Winter is here. Winterfell always had a chill she could never quite get away from. The fire burned in the fireplace and the moonlight dimly lit the room. A cold chill swept throughout the room. Dany felt the chill straight to her bones even though she was bundled up in thick, heavy furs. Dany had only been in Winterfell for a month, but the chill was unlike anything she had experienced before. Even after going North of the wall when she blew fire on the Night King, the chill in Winterfell had her more frozen then that day. Ice and death were at the castles doors.

Dany had many nights she stayed awake. The worry and fear seeping into her veins as she thought of the war to come. You have to see it to know. Now I know. Her dreams have become nightmares filled with ice blue eyes, harsh winds, blinding snow, and freezing water. She will never forget that day. The day one of her children died. The screech she heard as the Night King throw an icy spear to her fiery dragon. Poor, sweet Viseron had always been the sweetest of her children. He would make sweet sounds when she was near, and always was gentle when he soared through the sky. He wasn’t as big as Rhagael and Drogon, but he was just a fierce. Dany remembered watching the life drain from his eyes and drown into the frozen lake. The memories made her shutter. She felt frozen.

Dany sat up in the bed and looked around the room. Winterfell was so grey and gloomy. How had Jon lived here his whole life? She wanted to travel with him to Essos. She wanted him to taste sweet summer wines and eat suckling pork with honey glaze. She wanted to swim with him in the bright blue waters that surrounded Meereen. She wanted to fly her dragons with him over the desert and see what other kinds of mountains existed, mountains of sand. She wanted to see him in traditional warm weather clothes. She wanted him to feel the heat of the sun on his skin. She wanted to show him the city and Narrow Sea from the top of the pyramid she commanded. Alas, none of that ever seemed like it was going to happen.

Dany felt Jon stir in the bed beside her. They had taken up sharing the Lord’s chambers as their relationship was no secret by now. As much as she tried to hide her love for Jon, her eyes gave her away. Lady Arya as sharp as a knife was the first one to notice the closeness of her relationship with Jon which was much more than allies. The Northern Lords had despised her at first. They wanted nothing to do with a Targaryen. Jon, the ever stupidly foolish noble man he is, defended her until his face turned red. The Lords had grown to accept her when they realized it didn’t matter who sit on throne as the dead approached. Jon didn’t do anything to hide their relationship. He would grab her hand in the courtyard and kiss her in the godswood. At Lady Sansa’s urging they finally made their relationship known, it hadn’t mattered that much at all what people thought as death approached. To be honest, Dany didn’t care. She loved Jon, and no one was going to tell her other wise.

Dany turned back to look at Jon. He was laying with arms stretched out if reaching for her. His curls were a wild mess and he had a peaceful look on his face. Dany sometimes forgot how young he was. How cruel the world had been to him at such a young age? Sometimes she wonders how he survived it all? Did he always feel alone never knowing his mother? Did he have a good relationship with Robb? How did he feel when Catelyn Tully looked on him with hate? Did he ever dream of having a wife? A child? He told her once he took the black because he believed there was nothing left for him in the world. It made her seethe with hate for Catelyn Tully for making Jon believe he could never be loved. Dany was going to show him otherwise. She would make sure he always knew he was loved. She loved him with all her heart and she never wanted to see him hurt like that again.

Dany saw Jon’s brow crease when he realized she had been gone from his arms for too long. He always reached for her in his sleep. Dany moved back down and went into Jon’s welcoming embrace. A ghost of a smile creeped up on his lips when she held him. She was glad she could bring some comfort to his weary mind. He always looked worried, always one for brooding she thought. Sometimes she would call him the Brooding King to mock him when he had a particular look on his face. He hated the nickname at first, but found it would bring him joy after she had kissed the brooding look off his face.

Dany brought her hand up to his chest. Jon was the most beautiful man she had ever seen. He was built like a warrior, had a strong jawline, beautiful curls, and the most gentle grey eyes. His gruff northern accent only an added bonus. He never seemed to notice how the women in Winterfell looked at him. Their king. They would stare at her with jealous eyes. Dany didn’t care. You are mine. I am yours. The most beautiful part of Jon was his scars. An odd thing for a woman to find attractive, but it made him who he was. To her, Jon was perfect.

Dany traced over the jagged scars on his abdomen. Rough and pink, looking like they were fresh and new. Dany knew Jon was insecure about them, and they brought up horrible memories. She always had to remind him that they were scars of a former life. They were there to remind him of why the red priestess brought him back. He was needed in the war to come, and if he had remained dead she never would have met him. The only people who knew of his resurrection were his closest family, advisors, and her. Ser Davos foolishly bringing it up when he was back in the throne room in Dragonstone. A knife in the heart for his people.

Dany was always curious about them after she heard Ser Davos say that. She had brought it up multiple times to Jon and he always gave her a vague answer. It wasn’t until he was unconscious and on the brink of death, that she realized Ser Davos told the truth. She had seen them with her own eyes on the boat after he returned from beyond the wall. She had seen them on full display as she sat next to him on the boat. He didn’t seem to notice as his full attention was on her. He had comforted her over the loss of her child, and called her his queen. Overcome with emotion, she held his hand. Only when she tried to pull back and he held on tighter, she realized Tyrion was telling the truth. He was in love with her. Dany, the foolish girl she was, had let go and walked out of the room too stunned to stay. Her feelings overtook her as she exited the room and went to the bow of the ship. She knew she loved him before, but the depth of that love she only fully discovered then. She certainly didn’t think he felt the same way. She didn’t feel worthy of him, even though she was a queen. It wasn’t until he came to her on the ride to Winterfell that she fully gave into her love for him and laid with him.

Dany traced each scar slowly with tears forming in her eyes. How could his own men turn on him? She tried to imagine how he felt when each stab went into his body. The very men he trusted with his life had betrayed him. He must have felt so cold and alone. He had just lost his Wilding girl and now the very boy who killed her put a knife in his own heart. If she could be there, she would have killed the boy with her own hands. She briefly remembers of the time when Jon told her he got stabbed. She had been stranded somewhere in Essos after Drogon rescued her from the mob during the tourney. She swears to him she heard a wolf cry in the distance that night. She remembers feeling so alone. She wished she could have been there with him to protect him. She would have given her life for his.

Dany finally reached the scar by his heart and the tears came. The final blow. The end. He could have been taken from her forever if it weren’t for the red priestess. She’ll have to thank Melisandre one day if she sees her again. The priestess who brought them together. Ice and fire. She could feel his beating heart under her palm. Jon had such a good heart. He was selfless, brave, honest, and noble. He was the kindest man she had ever met. He had always treated her as an equal and shared the same world view as her. He was her match in every way possible. The ice to her fire. She the fire to his ice. Dany felt her heart swell at the depth of the love she had for Jon. She would protect his heart. The Night King can take everything from her, even her life, but he would never take Jon. She would make sure of that.

Dany slowed raised her head and kissed the scar on his heart. She felt Jon stir underneath her.

She felt his hand weave into her curls and grab her hand that rested on his heart.

She looked up at him with tender eyes.

He blinked groggy from sleep and smiled at her.

“What are you doing up so late?” He said in his gruff northern accent.

Dany looked into his eyes and the emotions of her thoughts raised to the surface.

She stroked his cheek with her right hand. Jon looked at her with worry in his eyes.

“Are you okay?” He stroked the back of her head.

A lone tear fell down her cheek. “I love you…” she said and moved her hand down to trace the scar over his heart. “..all of you.” She kissed the scar for a second time that night.

He looked at her with the same look he had on the boat so long ago. He raised her head with both his hand so she was level with his face. “I love you.” He repeated her words to her softly.

He leaned up and gave her a soft kiss. Dany overcome with emotion kissed him back tenderly pouring her heart into the kiss. She lifted her head and leaned their foreheads together.

Listening to his soft breath Dany blurted out something she had been thinking for a while now.

“Marry me.” she said softly with her eyes still closed.

Jon let out a soft gasp in surprise and moved her head up so she could look into his eyes.

He looked at her with shock and awe. Dany looked down with embarrassment, she hadn’t meant to blurt out such a thought.

She looked back up at him and he just looked her quietly with love in his eyes. She made a decision for herself. Dany had never been able to choose something on her own. Vast circumstances and duty to her people always overshadowed what she needed for herself. She had resigned herself to life without love after Drogo and her sweet summer child had died. She never expected to meet someone she would choose to love during the most dangerous, and unexpected of times. She was tired of choosing duty and honor over love. She had given everything to this war, maybe she deserved something for herself even if it only was for a short while as death was at their door. She wanted him. She wanted this. She wanted to marry him in the moonlight under the godswood with his family there. She wanted to marry him because she loved him, not for political gain or an alliance with the North. She didn’t care too much for the throne these days. So she made a decision, and went with her heart.

“Marry me now before the dead come. I don’t want to spend the short time we have left wondering what could be. If we die, we die, but now we live. I don’t want to spend another moment without you by my side. I want the world to know I am yours, and you are mine. Let the night king be damned. I love you and I want to marry you under the godswood while we still have the chance, not for an alliance but because we love each other.” She spoke so quickly, almost mumbling the whole speech.

She looked at him with love shining in her eyes. She waited nervously for his response. She knew he accepted their shared blood relation, but he always been hesitant anytime Tyrion or Ser Davos brought up the subject of a political alliance by marriage.

He held her face in his hands and she swears she had never seen a more beautiful sight. She nearly cried at the beauty of it.

He looked at her with his eyes so open and vulnerable and smiled at her the smiled only reserved for her.

“Nothing would make me happier, Dany.” He said in a soft voice.

She smiled at him a wide smile with tears in her eyes and grabbed his face and kissed him passionately.

He kissed her back fiercely and rolled her over. She felt as if her heart could burst.

The cold air faded away, the night king a pile of snow on the ground, the iron throne a melted pile of swords, and a dream of spring coming into her mind.

She made love for the first time that night. Yes, they had lain with each other many times before, but something about this time felt different, more special. Sex had always been enjoyable for her, but with Jon she felt as if the fire and heat ran through her soul and veins.

As he lay on top of her, deep inside her, she touched the scar over his heart and smiled.

Underneath that scar was his beating heart, and she would make sure it would keep beating until her last breath.

Undercover Jon Theory: How possible is it?

I’ve been on the fence with this theory for a while. I’ve gone between flirting with the idea and rejecting it. My inclination to believe in it came from seeing Jon reacting uncharacteristically in certain moments or some dialogue that seemed too on the nose when it wasn’t backed up by what we were being shown. On top of that, Kit’s acting was inconsistent with what this storyline was expecting me to believe and certain dialogues and actions that seemed to be on script contradicted it too. However, I wrote it off as bad execution in 7x04 and 7x05. Then 7x06 happened and Jon actually bent the knee - while Dany was willing to help him without it - and it made no sense nor did him calling her “Dany” out of nowhere or “My queen”. She came to help them and lost a dragon/child, but giving up his kingdom because of that? That’s not just betrayal; it’s foolish. I couldn’t fathom why Jon would do that. Come 7x07 and the episode expected me to believe Jon had never told a lie or broken a vow in his life (when he had before) and sabotaged a deal which he basically went on a dumb wight hunt for.

His lack of emotion for Arya and Bran threw me off in 7x05, but I just wrote it off as bad direction just so that it didn’t keep me up at night. But then Jon didn’t react to Brienne’s presence and neither did she. He didn’t seem guilty about his decision and how Sansa would take it, when for the first four episodes of this season he’s had quite visible reactions related to her. But suddenly, Jon was all about Dany now and didn’t give a damn about the Starks or the North? That made no sense. So I started listing out the inconsistencies to come to certain conclusions. This post attempts to break down this storyline from various angles to see if there can be an explanation beyond “it’s just bad writing”. It’s pretty long, but I didn’t go into as many details as I wanted to.

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Daenerys Targaryen and Jon Snow, parallels.
  • Both are orphans. Both lost their fathers before their birth, during Robert’s Rebellion, and both mothers died bringing them into the world.
  • They were smuggled away from their place of birth - Daenerys went in exile to Essos, Jon was carried to Winterfell. They both suffered abuse: Jon by Catelyn, and Daenerys by Viserys (Daenerys case is much worse of course). Dany was in the shadow of Viserys; Jon was in the shadow of Robb.
  • As Daenerys is sold to Drogo and starts her life with the strange culture of the Dothraki, Jon joins the Night’s Watch and struggles to adapt to the law standards of the life at the Wall. Later Jon has to join the Wildlings, the “savages of Westeros”, just as the Dothraki are the “savages of Essos”.
  • misslalwen also pointed that both Jon’s and Daenerys’ journeys in ASOIAF start with a feast: Jon’s very first chapter is the feast at Winterfell, when he takes the crucial life-changing decision of joining the Night’s Watch. Daenerys’s very first chapter is the preparation for her wedding feast with Khal Drogo; her second chapter is the feast itself. It happens at the same time as Jon’s story.
  • Their first love relation: Daenerys was sold and raped by Khal Drogo; just as Jon was forced into his relation with Ygritte - he had to sleep with her under threat on his life. Mance made it clear that if Jon doesn’t sleep with Ygritte, he would kill him (as it would mean that Jon remains true to his Night’s Watch vows and therefore is a Crow).

Yet every night, some time before the dawn, Drogo would come to her tent and wake her in the dark, to ride her as relentlessly as he rode his stallion. He always took her from behind, Dothraki fashion, for which Dany was grateful; that way her lord husband could not see the tears that wet her face, and she could use her pillow to muffle her cries of pain. When he was done, he would close his eyes and begin to snore softly and Dany would lie beside him, her body bruised and sore, hurting too much for sleep.

“I never asked you to lie for me.”

“I never did,” she said. “I left out part, is all.”

“You said - ”

“ - that we fuck beneath your cloak many a night. I never said when we started, though.” The smile she gave him was almost shy. “Find another place for Ghost to sleep tonight, Jon Snow. It’s like Mance said. Deeds is truer than words.”

  •  Both Jon and Daenerys develop affection to their companions.
  • When Drogo and Ygritte die, it’s in the hands of Daenerys and Jon. 
  • Both Jon and Daenerys feel guilty about their lost first loves, and mourn them.
  • Both Daenerys and Jon rose to power quickly, and at a very young age. Daenerys is Queen of Meereen at 15, Jon is made Lord Commander at 16. Note that it happens at the same time: Daenerys takes up residence in Meereen and becomes Queen, while Jon becomes Lord Commander, both at the end of Storm of Swords.
  • They are the two best examples of young leaders in the novels. How they rule, the difficulties they are facing, the trials they undergo. Their stories illustrate the battle against their inexperiences and will to move forward “kill the boy and let the man be born” “if I look back, I’m lost”.
  •  Daenerys was offered the chance to return to Westeros, but she decied to stay in Meereen to rule and help her people. Jon was offered to be made a Stark of Winterfell, but he refused because he knows he has a duty to the Night’s Watch, and because he feels that as a bastard, he doesn’t have morally the right to be Lord of Winterfell.
  • Both want the best for all the sides, and both struggle to be accepted by those they rule. They both turn their attention to the outcasts of the society,to those other people refused: Jon cares for the Wildling, and is the first Lord Commander in history to make peace with them and allow them to cross the Wall; while Daenerys releases thousands of enslaved people and does everything she can to keep them alive.
  • Both faced assassination attempts, by those who disagreed with their ways of ruling. While Daenerys escaped her poisoned locusts by luck, Jon is stabbed by his Brothers. And again, these events happens at the same time, at the end of A Dance with Dragons.
  • Both are connected to magical legendary beasts: a direwolf for Jon, and 3 dragons for Daenerys.
  • Both think of their family they never knew: Jon quite a lot of his mother, and Daenerys of Rhaegar and Aerys, and her ancestors.
  • Daenerys feels the need to carry her Targaryen lineage and fulfill the duty to her House, Jon also want to impress his adoptive father Eddard. 

He was no true Stark, had never been one … but he could die like one. Let them say that Eddard Stark had fathered four sons, not three.

“Remember who you are, Daenerys,” the stars whispered in a woman’s voice. “The dragons know. Do you?”

  • Daenerys tries to think of Rhaegar as her idol, while Jon’s idol was Daeron Targaryen the Young Dragon.

That night she dreamt that she was Rhaegar, riding to the Trident. But she was mounted on a dragon, not a horse.

When Jon had been a boy at Winterfell, his hero had been the Young Dragon, the boy king who had conquered Dorne at the age of fourteen. Despite his bastard birth, or perhaps because of it, Jon Snow had dreamed of leading men to glory just as King Daeron had, of growing up to be a conqueror

  • Both are gentle and kind people. And both are very melancholic
  • Finally, Daenerys’ prophecy from the House of the Undying:

A blue flower grew from a chink in a wall of ice, and filled the air with sweetness. … mother of dragons, bride of fire …

 The obvious reference to Jon (blue flower in a Wall of ice) is part of the prophecy concerning Daenerys’ love interests, symbolised by the word “bride”. 

  •  And there are subtle foreshadowings when Jon and Daenerys think of the magical beast of the other (unbeknown to them of course)

He might as well wish for another thousand men, and maybe a dragon or three. - Jon, A Storm of Swords

Off in the distance, a wolf howled. The sound made her feel sad and lonely, but no less hungry. - Daenerys, A Dance with Dragons

And I am sure there are more parallels, perhaps less obvious. Parallel lines are meant to never meet, but in the case of Jon and Daenerys, I feel these lines are sliding straight toward each other.

An ode to Lady Sansa Stark

Sansa is not a warrior, she is not promiscuous, she is not flamboyant, she does not have a rare gift and therefore the majority of the fandom refuses to recognise her importance, her achievements, her progress, her maturity, her wisdom, her sensibility, her authenticity, her loyalty, her diplomacy, her shrewdness, her concern for others, her femininity.

Her demure ways are used to not only underestimate her, but as a reason to hate on her. Because she is a passive character in an agressive plot. And while most think this is a weakness, I find it amazing! Why her character was created, why she’s still there, it means something.

Even within the show she is constantly reminded that she is not as strong or as worthy as her siblings.

None of the other Stark kids saw their father be beheaded and be forced to stare at his head on spike. None of them lived under Cersei’s watch. None of them were used as she was. Her wolf was the first one to be taken away (brutally unfairly btw). She has never killed. None of them suffered the amount of psychological, physical, moral, sexual violence she has. No one has been betrayed as she was. Not even Jon. Jon at least has some he could and can call friends. Arya moved by herself, Bran was guided throughout all his journey. Sansa was thrown and exchanged in the hands of several people like a toy.

She has all the reasons to become a vengefull brat, like so many are rooting for her to reveal herself as. But what differs her from Cersei and even from Marjaery is her natural and uncurruptable purity. She is a lost girl, tormented by the ghosts of the men who violated her and haunted by the shadow of that disgusting Littlefinger, who she understands is valuable, even though he was the one who sold her to a psycopath. But she remains strong and she remains aware. She knows when it’s time to take risks and she takes them. Sansa is the one who saved Winterfell.

But people continue to condemn her for foolish mistakes she made as a child.

Say what you will, but I call this plain old misogyny.

Inktober: Day One: Ghost
“There are ghosts in Winterfell and I am one of them” - A Dance With Dragons by George RR Martin.

Notes: I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t start this year off with Theon, but I wouldn’t expect every prompt to end up relating to him. I’m trying to limit the amount of fanart I do in general for this year’s Inktober but for sure, he will turn up here again…Because, hey, Theon is perfect. 

Bend Your Knees (Part 4)

MORE SMUT! (And in Winterfell! And Ghost cuteness~) This is Part Four! Find the rest here

Warning: Smut


Jon bit the soft flesh of her neck and Dany moaned out. He rolled his tongue over his bite mark to sooth it. Dany pushed him back and met his eyes and Jon knew he wasn’t getting away without a conversation.

 “You’re not like everyone else. I just want them to see that.”

“Me too,” Dany cupped his cheek in her palm. “But that’s not why you’re here.” 

They arrived in Winterfell several days ago. There was outrage and anger - Jon was prepared for it. He knew the North wouldn’t except Daenerys easily. He spent days arguing, pleading with the northern lords to understand what she meant. That she was their only hope. Sansa was hard to convince. Arya not as much.

Jon hadn’t seen Dany outside of polite dinners and meetings he’d set up to make the transition smoother, to show the North they can trust her like he did. She looked more beautiful each time. Her hair was down and cascading in a northern fashion, Jon noted that this was probably done in the hopes it would make her seem less foreign. 

Everything was different here. It was still home to Jon, but the people had changed, the relationships too. Since they got off the boat together, it’d been nothing but polite courtesies and politics. Jon hated politics. 

He wasn’t sure if having Dany here made it better or worse. She was more than a sight for sore eyes, but since they landed he’d realized just how many sore eyes were looking at her. He wanted to swat them away like flies. 

He wanted to cut all the meetings and the dinners short and grab Dany by the hand and pull her up to his chambers and say the hell with it all. But here, he was constantly reminded that he was still King in the North, and there were more important things. 

Instead, Jon settled for locking eyes with her as the Northern lords asked her questions or talked about her father. He settled for glances and accidental arm grazes, never acting more as military allies. Dany felt this too, like an odd switch that had been flipped since they landed. She remembered the smell of his skin so vividly, yet when she touched Jon’s shoulder as he introduced her as his Queen, it felt knew.

They communicated in glances and smiles. She kept his gaze as  lords spat out insults and concerns, only breaking away from his brown eyes to hush them with her own words of ferocity. She smiled as he defended her at every table, in front of every lord they met.

The two of them were composed, except for one late night at a meeting with a few select lords. They had opposed Dany from the beginning and were not shy in letting anyone know. Dany and Jon dinned with them, accompanied by Sansa and Dany’s council. 

The arguing went on for hours, Dany defended herself from countless verbal attacks from the lords, often times answering the same deft questions and discounting the same rude remarks.

Mostly, Dany did her own defending, she preferred to speak for herself. This night though, she grew frustrated. After hours of the same arguments, she met Jon’s dark eyes from across the table as if to say “I’m not sure they’re going to bend.” Jon nodded slowly with his eyes.

As the lords continued to throw insults Dany’s way, she watched Jon closely. Their eyes met and she saw more of him, the him she remembered from the boat. She could almost feel his breath on her skin, his fingers brushing through her hair.

“We don’t need the help of this foreign whore.” 

Jon’s jaw tightened. He stood abruptly from his chair, towering over the smaller lords. “She’s no foreign whore. She’s the heir to the iron throne. She was born in the seven kingdoms and she is the only one who can save them. Winter is here and without her help death will come for all of us.” Veins popped out on Jon’s arms as he pressed his fists into the wooden table, trying to keep his composure. “If you wish to put your pride over your people than so be it - you may call her whatever you like from the grave.” 

The lords were silent. Dany pushed away from the table, stiffening her back as much as she could. “As Lord snow has said, I am here to help fight against the enemy that is death. If you lords wish to continue bickering of bloodlines and titles then so be it, but I am not your enemy. You may denounce me if you wish, but I will remember your words when summer comes again. I urge you, consider casting aside your pride for the lives of your people, of all people.” 

She excused herself to her chambers, begging the room her pardon and leaving the men to quiver or quarrel. 

As she roamed the halls back to her chambers she felt suddenly alone. Watching Jon angry had brought a feeling back. It was nice to know someone was on your side, able to come to your defense. She would defend him too, she new as much. But after it all it felt like a show. They would defend each other at every meeting, in front of any public and then they were alone and separate again.

Her footsteps felt empty, her breath heavy. It was a feeling she’d grown used to after she watched Viserys die, and then again after Drogo. She hadn’t felt it when she left Daario, which had struck her as odd, but now, in the halls of Winterfell a new pang on loneliness sunk into her stomach.

She turned the corner and saw a flash of white. Ghost, the white wolf who had taken a liking toward since she arrived, came bounding down toward her. She bent down to greet him, scratching the fluffy fur behind his ears. Ghost made a purring sound and she continued scratching him until her legs ached. 

Then she stood and continued on her way to her chambers, Ghost padding along beside her. The cold breeze that ran though the stone castle calmed her hot skin. 

When she got back, she lit a fire in the hearth. Dany sat on the edge of her window and removed her heavy boots. She looked out the to her dragons flying above the trees and continued to scratch Ghosts neck as he sat at her heels. 

She looked to the wolf and remembered the story Arya had told her. How Jon had found the direwolf pups in the woods and begged for their father to keep them and how Ghost wasn’t found until later. He was the smallest, pushed out of the litter by the rest. He was left alone in the snow by his family. Now he was the last direwolf in Winterfell and as big as the rest. Strong and free. Dany saw herself in the wolf’s eyes.

Before long there was a knock on the door. Ghost’s ears perked up. “Come in.” 

There was another knock, this time stronger than the last. It was locked, Dany realized. Ghost pranced over to the door and sniffed through the cracks. 

Dany rose from the window sill and went to open the door. Her bare feet were cold against the wooden floor. She nudged Ghost aside with her hips and unlocked the door with a click, pulling it open slowly. 

Jon stood in the threshold, his eyes glinting in the dark, curls cascading about his forehead. Dany hadn’t seen that glint since the boat. Her insides fluttered. 

Jon stepped into her chambers slowly, pushing the door closed behind him. Ghost growled at him for attention but Jon’s eyes stayed locked on Dany’s. In a flash he pushed her back against the wooden walls, cashing his lips to hers in a hurry. Dany inhaled sharply at the quick contact and fought for dominance against his tongue.

She had missed him like this. Jon’s hand found her lower back and he grappled at her waist to pull Dany’s body closer to his chest. 

Dany wrapped her fingers in the curls at the base of his neck and kissed him back with a new ferocity. She stood up on her tiptoes for leverage as she fought with Jon’s mouth for control. They continued like this until Ghost let out a bark.

Jon pulled away in surprise. He looked down at his wolf as if he just realized his presence. “Not you too,” he groaned. He pulled away from Dany and opened the door halfway. “Go on.” He told Ghost. 

Ghost sauntered out of the room and in an instant Jon’s attention was switched back to Dany. He slammed the door and locked it. She could see the anger behind his eyes now. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Jon wrapped his arms around her again and began kissing her. Dany missed his warm smell of cinnamon and pine. She could feel his need as they kissed and she met his force, using the wall to push back against his strong body. 

Jon bit her lip and she pulled away for breath. “Jon, what’s the matter?”

“Nothing.” He insisted. 

Dany gave him a look and Jon leaned down to kiss her lips again but she dodged his lips and they landed on her neck instead. Jon sucked at the sensitive skin there. 

He didn’t want to talk about it. Although he knew Dany deserved as much. Jon was frustrated at the North, at his people, at himself and much more. He needed her now. Not just for release, he needed to be close to her, to remind himself how real she was, to feel her breath and see her smile. 

Jon bit the soft flesh of her neck and Dany moaned out. He rolled his tongue over his bite mark to sooth it. Dany pushed him back and met his eyes and Jon knew he wasn’t getting away without a conversation. There was a long silence before Jon spoke. 

“You’re not like everyone else. I just want them to see that.”

“Me too,” Dany cupped his cheek in her palm. “But that’s not why you’re here.” 

Jon silently kept her gaze, he watched has her violet eyes tried to read him. Dany thought back to what he said to Ghost after he barked at them and to his anger in the past meetings. “If I’m not mistaken I’d say the King in the North is jealous.” 

“Jealous?” Jon turned away. “Did it ever occur to you that I just might not like hearing you called a ‘whore?’“

Dany could see his muscles tensing again like earlier. Her heat swelled. “Or maybe you just don’t like them thinking of me like that.” She was teasing him now. She knew well were his frustrations lied, with the lords that wouldn’t listen and the eyes that wandered and plus she thought Jon felt the separation too. 

“I don’t like anyone thinking of you like that. Do you like them calling you a whore? A foreigner?”

“I’ve dealt with worse than names to get to here. And so have you.” Jon, who had backed away from her and further into the room, looked down at his feet. “I think your just mad you can’t defend me out there. You’re more territorial than you think Jon Snow.”

 “Territorial?” Jon stepped closer to her, looming over her body. 

“Mhm.” Dany held her stance, not breaking his stare for a moment. 

“I want to share you with the Seven Kingdoms.” Jon softened his expression slightly. “Just not all of you.”   

Dany had to stop herself from smiling. She had seem him staring at her in thin dresses and elegant cloaks and seen the way he reacted when others stared with him. But she hadn’t seen his jealousy up close like this before. She liked it. She could almost feel the fire dancing under his skin. “You don’t have to.” 

Jon grabbed her by the waste and pulled her in for a kiss, stopping inches before their lips touched. The tension grew as they felt each others breath on their skin. He held her like this until he couldn’t resist the urge to kiss her. 

The next thing Dany knew, Jon was backing them up step by step. He led them back until his heels pressed against the bed. Jon then flipped them over, pushing Dany onto the furs and descending down on top of her. 

He hovered his lips over hers teasingly before licking them and kissing his way down her neck. He sucked at her collar bone and then worked his lips back up to her ear. Jon;s curls tickled Dany’s skin, his breath sent shivers down her spine. He bit her ear lobe. Dany whimpered. 

Jon wrapped his arms behind her and began to undo her dress as fast as he could. He grew frustrated at the elegant ties and began ripping them away. Dany gasped. 

“I want them to see you. But not like this,” Jon yanked the fabric away from Dany;s chest and eagerly took a nipple into his mouth. He sucked and bit down, listening to Dany as she held back a moan. Her fingers laced through his curls. Jon looked up at her. He wanted to tell her that he wanted to be the only one to get to see her like this. The only one that gets to make her feel like this. But he was well aware that he had bent the knee, and there was nothing he could do to stop her from entertaining others. 

“My lord,” Dany feigned a cough, rolling her hips against his. Dany saw the need in is eyes. She hadn’t always enjoyed being dominated like this before, but there was something in Jon that told her to let go. “Remind me of your worth and I am yours.” 

In truth Dany was falling for him regardless, and she saw his worth in military alliance grow stronger every day, yet she teased him still. A fire sparked in Jon’s eyes then. The challenge rang in his ears. Dany was only playing, but at a risk that would benefit her either way, she knew. The look of determination grew on Jon’s face as he met her eyes, daring him to continue. 

Jon tore his eyes away from hers and kissed her lips briefly. Then he moved back down to suck at her peaks again. He kissed her skin quickly between sharp breaths as he undressed them both, tearing of layers of his furs until only his pants and jerkin remained and shimmying Dany’s dress down around her ankles. 

He leaned to the side and let her kick it off the rest of the way, watching as the low light glimmered and bounced against her pale skin. He looked up her body slowly, his eyes tracing every curve from her hips to her breasts. 

His fingers lagged behind. Jon dragged them up her body slowly, pausing only to trace circles on her thighs and the dip of her hips. Dany felt goosebumps rise on her skin under his touch. 

His finger then dipped to her heat, lightly grazing over the skin of her outer folds. She arched her hips up in an attempt to get more of his touch, but he pinned her back down with his other arm. He kissed the skin below her navel, holding her hips down with one hand and dipping into her folds with the other. Dany moaned and her backed arched slightly off the furs as she gasped. 

Jon swirled his finger through her wetness, watching as her eyes fluttered as he grazed her clit. He rubbed her there until her head tipped back and then slide a finger into her, replacing the pressure on her clit with his tongue.

Dany looked down her body, her fingers found Jon’s curls and grabbed hold as he lapped at her heat and flicked her most sensitive spot with his tongue again and again. 

Jon curled his finger up and Dany’s body clenched. She let out a low moan. Beads of sweat dripped down Dany’s forehead and neck as she writhed against Jon’s touch. all the while he kept her pinned down as best he could with one arm, his muscles flexing against her stomach. 

He looked up at her just as she pushed a strand of damp hair from her eyes, the silver curl falling back in place with the rest, Lust swirled in his eyes, mixing with the determination that was still pooling there. 

Jon added another finger, curling up as hard and as fast as he could and Dany yelped. He pushed on her spot inside her and Dany;s walls began to clench and spasm. Jon hummed against her clit. Dany bucked her hips and curled her toes moaned and clutched at Jon’s hair with one hand and his bicep with the other and then she was shaking. 

Jon kept humming and clutching her in his hands. He kept the pressure until her body couldn’t shake anymore and she was releasing her death grip on his arm. He smiled against her heat, his nose tickling her clit one last time. 

Then she grabbed him by the arms and dragged her up to her face. Jon pushed the sweaty curls from her damp cheeks and held her face in his hands. They stared at each other, reading into each others eyes until the sweat dried from their skin. 

Dany wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his lips to hers, tasting herself on him. She could feel his hardness against her inner thigh as she slowly peeled his jerkin from his body. His curls bounced as she pulled the shirt from his head and lay it down off the bed. Dany traced around the scars on his chest with her fingers. Jon winced. 

“Don’t,” he pleaded.


Dany pulled him to her again and she rolled the skin of his lower lip between her teeth. Her fingernails traced down his spine, sending a shiver with them. She tugged at his pants and pushed them down off his ass and hips. 

Jon inhaled sharply and Dany grinned. Her hands gripped his biceps and she rolled over on top of him. Jon let her take control, his calloused hands gliding down to her hips. She kissed him hard and bit his lip slowly. She hovered over his naked body with hers, her legs straddled his hips. He could feel her heat graze over the skin just above his length, her warm cum dripping onto him. 

Dany leaned in for another kiss slowly, backing away at the last second to tease him. Jon leaned up, chasing her lips. Instead, she backed away and leaned forward on her knees. 

She found his length with her hands and rubbed it through her folds, covering him with her wetness. She watched the muscles in his face loosed and she guided him to her entrance. 

Dany bent her knees slowly, wiggling her hips slightly as she sunk down onto him. When her ass hit his balls she moaned, steadying herself by gripping his thigh with her arm. 

She adjusted to the feeling of having him inside her again and slowly raised back up and down, rocking her hips faster and faster. She kept this pace until Jon’s face began to contort and his hips rose to meet hers. Dany then leaned forward for more leverage, balancing herself on his chest as she pushed her hips against his. 

Jon thrust up to meet her pace and his balls smacked against her ass. Dany’s fingernails dug into his flesh as she felt her walls begin to tighten. Jon noticed and in a split second Jon tightened the grasp on her hips and flipped them over. 

Dany gasped loudly as the unexpected change as he head bounced against the furs. Jon leaned over her, pushing her bod harder into the furs. He pushed into her harder, pulling her thighs apart more. 

“Jon.” Dany let his name escape her mouth as the new angle allowed him to fill her more. 

“Shh.” Jon hushed her, sucking at the sweet spot on her neck. 

Dany let a small moan escape. Jon flashed her a look Dany had only seen earlier today when he yelled at the other lords. He hooked his arms under her knees and leaned up on his, pulling her closer and pushing farther into her. 

Dany stifled a scream and threw her head back, Jon gripped her tighter and thrust harder and faster. She bit her lip, turning a scream into a high pitched moan. Jon saw her face contort as writhed against the furs. 

Her body rose from the furs and then back down, her walls clenched again. Jon felt his high coming, and held her tighter. Dany resisted the urge to reach up and grab Jon’s throat. Instead she sunk her nails into his thighs and clenched with the same ferocity as her walls clenched around his cock as it pounded into her.  She bit down on her knuckle to keep from screaming out.

Jon’s hand came up to her clit and began to rub and Dany saw white. Jon’s curls bounced around his face and over his eyes as he looked down to where they met. He stroked her clit fiercely and watched as Dany came. Her mouth hung open and her head leaned back against the furs. She held her breath as she came. 

When she was finished she whispered his name, sending him over the edge. Dany watched as Jon’s face tightened with his orgasm. Jon spilled himself inside her his expression loosened little by little. Dany rocked her hips slowly and pulled him down so he rest his hot cheeks against her chest. 

She combed his damp curls and massaged his scalp until a blanked of quiet fell over them. They matched each others breath and Jon traced shapes on the soft skin of Dany’s side. 

“I’ve missed you, my Queen.” Dany felt her lips curl up into a soft smile, one of the few she’s experienced in the North so far.

“I’ve missed you as well, King Snow.” 


So this came from an assortment of prompts about Dany and Ghost bonding (which is also why it took so long to put together): @loliliana , @xnotadamselindistress , and @blood-of-tha-dragon . The last third of it was inspired extensively by this adorable headcanon from @mhysaofdragons that I couldn’t get out of my head-I hope you don’t mind, love! It fit so well into the story! 

“Keep your shield up, Alden. You won’t kill a White Walker if it goes for your weak side first.”

After making sure that Alden was no longer doing more harm to himself than he was to the White Walker, Jon took a moment to survey the rest of his new recruits, wiping a fine sheet of sweat from his forehead even though the outdoor courtyard was covered in snow. They were all summer boys (and girls), most younger than he was-some not yet of age.

Alden was only ten-and-two. Most had never swung a sword in their lives, though they were giving it their all. He and some of his other bannermen had been taking charge of training them in their spare time-and while they were quickly making progress, Jon wasn’t sure it would be enough even with dragonglass weapons.

Just then he heard someone laughing. He turned, thinking it was a pair of children he’d have to gently reprimand, only to find Dany on top of the castle ramparts where she’d taken to watching them train. He had to do a double take; Ghost was practically sitting on top of Dany’s feet, half asleep, mouth hanging open slightly as Dany scratched behind his ears. For a minute he felt almost jealous; Ghost hadn’t been that affectionate towards him since he was a puppy.

He went to join her, standing under the battlements and looking up. “Aren’t you supposed to be in a meeting?”

“Not currently. Lord Tyrion thought-and I agreed-that we all need a break.” They’d been working nonstop for weeks now and he knew it was only a matter of time before someone had a burnout, since they were all functioning on only a few hours of sleep a night. “And your dog wouldn’t leave me alone.”

Traitor. “He’s not a dog. He’s a wolf. I’ve never seen him take to someone like that.”

She shrugged. “Well, it’s only fair. Rhaegal took so well to you.” She scratched Ghost in the soft fur under his chin, the way Jon did sometimes, and the wolf closed his eyes in pure bliss. “You know, we have an hour or so before anyone thinks to look for us…”

He knew what she would ask next-and as much as he knew they shouldn’t he could already feel himself going hard at the thought. “Your Grace, are you insinuating-”

“Would you be offended if I was?”

“Of course not.” He told Lord Glover that he had pressing matters to discuss with the Queen and made his way up to the battlements, casting off his heavy outer jacket as he made his way upstairs.

They met in an upstairs hallway, far removed from the noise and clamor of the outdoors. They selected a room at random (after checking to be sure it really was empty; emotions seemed to be running high now that death seemed certain and it wasn’t uncommon to walk in on a couple that seemed intent on fucking to death rather than freezing) and bolted the door behind them; once again, Jon was thankful that Winterfell’s walls were so thick.

“It’s been a while,” she said, sitting down on the edge of the bed and pulling off her boots. “I hope your talent hasn’t gotten rusty, Lord Snow.”

His hands fumbled with the buttons of his coat (not for the first time, he thought that there were too many). “Don’t worry, Your Grace. I’m sure that you’ll be more than satisfied.”


Jon thought that would be the end of it-but Ghost wouldn’t leave the Southron queen alone. The wolf waited outside her door every morning, sat next to her at mealtimes, and followed her to her solar until she closed the door in his face. 

“He likes me more than he likes you,” Dany said one day when she was watching the new recruits train, sitting on a bench outside the makeshift training yard. Ghost was lying next to her and she pet him absently behind his ears; he didn’t say anything but Jon saw his tail twitch with pleasure. 

“You must be feeding him behind my back.” Not that Ghost wasn’t still a traitor; honestly, Jon had been the one who had fed and raised him since he was a puppy but he suddenly decided that Dany was his favorite person? In what world was that fair? 

“I’m not. I promise. I’m busy enough without worrying about your dog. He always smells like snow.” Dany couldn’t stand snow. She was always making excuses to avoid it whenever she could. Even so, there was a hint of tenderness in her voice that made him think that she didn’t mind the dog quite as much as she said she did. 

His suspicions were confirmed one night when he went up to find her solar door open. She sat behind the oak table in the center of the room, reading a book bound in gold with one hand and stroking Ghost’s head with the other. The direwolf had his head lying in her lap, eyes closed sleepily; when Jon entered the room, his eyes flickered open and he thumped his tail against the ground once or twice but he didn’t stir. 

“He was whining,” Dany said, not looking up from her book. “I couldn’t just leave him outside forever.”

And just like that, Jon knew that the wolf had managed to make her fall in love with him too. 

But he started spending extra time with Rhaegal in the evenings, sometimes even going so far as to ride him to Torrhen’s Square and back. Not to make them jealous. 

Or maybe just a little bit. 


But the final straw came when Ghost started sneaking into the bed at night. 

His sense of timing was uncanny; as soon as Jon and Dany were (finally) finished with all of their meetings and went to bed, he’d gently nose the door open and sneak into the room. He wasn’t subtle about it either; he liked to sleep right between Jon and Dany, taking up as much space as he possibly could for ultimate comfort.

And he snored. Jon was mostly used to it by now, but Dany couldn’t stand it; she complained that he kept her up all night and woke with fur in her mouth. They tried shutting the door but he would sit outside the door and whine and scratch until they finally let him in just to shut him up. A couple of times they tried shutting him out of the castle, but he howled for hours and hours until everyone in Winterfell woke up. 

Jon tried to get Ghost to sleep at the foot of the bed instead, but Ghost would have none of it; he would pretend not to understand what Jon meant and move back to his original position as soon as Jon’s back was turned. 

Finally they just had to acquiesce. Although Jon had to admit that sometimes, when the temperature got so cold that the ice in the wells froze through and even a roaring fire in the fireplace couldn’t warm them, it was good to have an extra body in the bed for heat. 

Once or twice, when he woke up before Dany, he saw her sleeping with her arms around Ghost like he was a stuffed toy. The direwolf lay still, eyes closed, enjoying every minute of it. 

“We need to do something about that dog,” Dany said one night, even as she rubbed Ghost’s belly absentmindedly. “I miss sleeping next to you.”

“We do sleep next to each other.”

“It’s not the same.” 

“He’s not a dog.”

“He doesn’t act like any wolf I’ve ever met.”

“How many wolves are there in the deserts of Essos?”

She pretended to turn away from him, but she wasn’t really angry; he could tell by the way her shoulders weren’t tensely set. “I mean it, Jon. I can’t sleep.”

He sighed. “Can’t you just get used to it?”

“Once he tried to lick me in the middle of the night.”

It must be awful to be so loved. “Can you go to sleep? He can’t bother you when you’re asleep.”

She was quiet for a while-so long that he thought she’d managed to fall back to sleep. “It takes me a long time to go to sleep these days.”

Then we’ll have to change that.”

From then on he devoted all of his time and energy to making sure that by the time they entered the bedchamber at night she was so tired she could barely stand. He didn’t just use sex (although he certainly wasn’t opposed to it); he took her for walks on the ramparts, talked with her long into the night in the godswood, and even went for dragon rides once or twice. By the time he blew out the candle next to their bed she was almost always on the edge of unconsciousness-and then he let Ghost in. 

He always felt unduly smug when he knew he was the only one still awake; he’d managed to satisfy both his lover and his wolf. And they say that ice and fire can’t get along. 

One night a week Ghost would go hunting and wouldn’t sleep with them at all, so he still had that opportunity to wake up with Dany in his arms. But he was surprised to find that he didn’t mind sharing all that much; the more Ghost annoyed him, the more he got used to it. Sometimes he even missed his direwolf on the nights he was gone. 

Though he didn’t in the mornings, when his clothing wasn’t covered in white fur. 

It was unconventional, but they made it work. Which was a good metaphor for their entire relationship, really.  

I have another prompt or two that involves Ghost, I just thought they’d be better as their own oneshots. 

In case you didn’t already hear, I’m not accepting requests for the time being because I am currently 26 prompts in the hole and I want to get a few more done before I accept more. I’m sure you understand; everyone’s will get written though, I can promise you that. 

However, prompts are here if you want to request something when they’re open again. Should only be a few days

jon snow; say it back

request: 3. “i didn’t mean to break your heart.” jon snow x reader 19. “you never let anyone in, and that’s why everyone leaves.”

notes: i love writing about jon i love him so much

Jon was leaving with his uncle Benjen and joining the Night’s Watch. And he hadn’t thought of giving you a heads up. Nothing. You had got to know he was leaving Winterfell when you heard a couple of ladies talking about how the bastard son of Lord Eddard was going away. You couldn’t believe it. Jon, leaving Winterfell? You knew how he felt about being here while he felt he wasn’t wanted around, but you also knew that he loved his father, his siblings -– even Sansa–.  And he loved you. Or so you thought. You hadn’t told him your feelings, you always felt shy about it, but you hoped he knew. You always acted shy around everyone, not trusting much, especially as you grew older. However, Jon and you have been friends for a long time, and you thought you had showed him he was loved enough times. It seems like not.

You expected to hear the reasons why he thought he needed to leave, although you knew what he’d say. It could be for his honour. Or his father’s. Or because he thought he didn’t fit the Stark family –which you doubted–. But anyway, he was leaving, and you had escaped tonight’s feast to look for him and confront him about it.

You found him in the horse barn, and Ghost noticed you before Jon did. The direwolf stood on his paws and came to you, smelling and licking your hand. You smiled at the animal and petted his head and behind his ears. It was when Jon realised you were there. He gave you a look and turned back to look straight ahead. You sighed. You were annoyed, but not surprised by his actions. You had guessed he wasn’t going to want to talk to you. Nevertheless, you walked towards where he was sitting and sat next to him.

“Have you made your decision then?”

He nodded, but didn’t talk. He didn’t seem surprised that you knew of his intentions, even though he hadn’t told you about them.

“So, I can’t talk to you out of it?”

He shook his head, but again, didn’t talk.

“C’mon Jon. At least say something. You’re going to be away for so long I might even forget how your voice sounds.”

Now it was his time to sigh. “I’m not changing my mind, Lady Y/N.”

“Quit that, Jon! I can’t change your mind, I accept that. But at least I would like to know why you are doing this.”

He sighed. He didn’t dare look at you in the eye. He was absent-mindedly scratching Ghost’s head. “I always wanted to be a Ranger, like my uncle. It won’t matter who I am, I’ll just be a brother of the Night’s Watch.”

You frowned at his words. “You have, brothers, real brothers, here in Winterfell, your home. We are your family, Jon!” You knew you had said you wouldn’t try convincing him, but you just couldn’t avoid it.

He shook his head, making his black curls fall over his eyes. “Winterfell is not my home. I only bring dishonour to House Stark.”

You tsked. Being a bastard had definitely taken a toll in Jon’s self-esteem, mainly due to people like Lady Catelyn or Lady Sansa, who treated him like an outsider, even with hatred. Why would they blame a child for his father’s mistakes? Blame your husband, Lady Catelyn, not Jon. It was Ned Stark who couldn’t keep it in his pants, you thought bitterly. “Your father loves you Jon, and so do your siblings.”

“I’m just a bastard. They can do better. You can do better than me.”

You took a deep breath. “I love you, Jon. Anyways, it’s not about Winterfell. We could be in Dorne and it’d still be home. Stay with me. As long as we are together, we’ll be fine.”

You don’t know where you got the strength to say this from, but it was followed by a long silence and then, just a few words: “You had never told me that before.” His voice dropped even more.

“I know.” You sighed. “You know I have a hard time with words. But that’s not the point.”

“Maybe it is the point. You never let anyone in, and that’s why everyone leaves. If you had told me sooner…” You could just gape. How could he tell you that? You knew you hadn’t been open about your feelings, but you hoped he’d understand you. It seemed like he didn’t. You were angry, and tired of arguing. You had come to say goodbye, or to get an explanation. But apparently he wasn’t up to it.

“You value your pride more than me. And maybe that’s why you are leaving. Do not there blame this on me, Jon Snow.” You turned around and walked away. You cried yourself to sleep that night, muffling your sobs against the pillows. You woke the next day, got dressed quickly and went outside, but you couldn’t find him. A handmaiden was walking by, so you stopped her and asked about Jon. “The bastard already left, milady.” He left. You thought. I’ll never have the opportunity to kiss him. I’ll never know if he loves me back. But at least, he left knowing that you love him.


It hadn’t been easy. You had stayed in the North, while your father tried to find you some Lord to marry you off to. Your house wasn’t that important, but you were still a Lady of the House Orbain. This stopped when your father had gone to war with Robb Stark, the King of the North, and Theon had taken Winterfell. So you left. You took a ship to the south and stayed three years in Dorne, until you heard the news of Prince Oberyn’s death. Fearing that the south wouldn’t be safe anymore, you returned to the North, but not to Winterfell, but to Bear Island, where Lady Lyanna Mormont had accepted to let you stay, while you acted as sort of an advisor for her. You had learnt how to fight in Dorne, and Lady Lyanna appreciated that.

You hadn’t forgotten about Jon. It was a memory locked inside your head, and even if you tried not to think about him, it was always there. You didn’t care to look for him. You knew that the service to the Night’s Watch lasted forever, so unless you made a trip to Castle Black you wouldn’t see him, and you didn’t plan on making him break his vows. That was, until one morning Lady Lyanna broke the news to you: “Jon Snow is coming to the castle.”

You froze on your place, your breath stuck in your throat. Jon Snow? The same Jon Snow you had known? And loved? What was he doing? What was he coming to Bear Island for?

“Jon Snow, as in Ned Stark’s bastard, milady?”

She nodded her head. “Yes. He wants to meet with me. Do you know him? Is he trustworthy?” She questioned you with her curious eyes. You bit your lip, wondering how to answer that question.

“We were… friends. Before he left for the Night’s Watch.”

“Would you say you know him well?”

You sighed dejectedly, feeling where this was going, but you weren’t going to lie to the girl who had given you shelter. “Yes, I think I knew him quite well, milady.”

“Then you’ll stay by my side when we meet him.” You nodded. And that’s exactly what happened. You were behind Lady Lyanna, waiting for her to address you when necessary. You tried to avoid looking at Jon, but the moment he came into the room you couldn’t keep your eyes away. He had grown up. He sure was taller than you know. He had grown a beard, and he seemed even more tired than when you last saw him, but his eyes showcased a purposed that he was lacking when he was at Winterfell, all those years ago. When his eyes met yours, you could see his widening, clearly not expecting you to be there. Maybe he thought you’d be hidden on your small family seat, or at some Lord’s, or dead. Who knows. You could see in his longing eyes how he wanted to approach you, but he didn’t. He stayed put, in his eyes the promise to speak to you later.

You saw them trying to make small talk with the young Lady of Bear Island and you couldn’t help but smirk. Just like you, they couldn’t have expected such a young girl to be so fierce and self-assured. You saw how Lady Lyanna wasn’t convinced by Lady Sansa or Jon, but how it was Ser Davos who seemed to be getting to her.

“… and make no mistake, my lady, the dead are coming.”

She looked at Jon. “Is it true?”

He nodded. Lady Lyanna turned to you. “Do you believe what they are saying to be true, Lady Y/N?” You had never believed in the Army of the Dead, or any white walker or the Night King. But you believed in Jon. So you chose to believe him one more time.

“Yes, milady. I do believe him– them.” You corrected yourself, and if they noticed they didn’t show it. Jon smiled at you. It wouldn’t have seemed like a smile to anybody else, but you knew him. And you smiled back.


He did speak to you later. Before he hopped on his horse, he stayed a little behind, waiting for you. You approached him. “I’ll be there in a minute.” He told his sister and Ser Davos. He turned back to you. You needed no more. You jumped to his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck while he securely wrapped them around your waist. You could feel how he was holding you maybe a little bit too tightly, but it didn’t matter right now. You separated a little bit from each other and you put your hands on his face, feeling his cold cheeks. You closed your eyes. This was probably the first human contact that you had had in a long time. He put his bigger hands over yours, trying, just like you, to feel each other’s skin. Your faces were so close that the warmth of his rushed breathing made your cheeks heat up. You were the first one to speak.

“I thought you were Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch. That’s the last thing I heard.”

“My watch ended.”

You frowned in confusion. “Shouldn’t you have… died for that to happen?”

He gave you an ironic smile. “It’s complicated.”

You nodded “It does sound like it.”

You were in silence again. You were very close, holding hands and looking at each other’s faces. It was like seeing a person for the first time. He was the one to break the silence now.

“I’m sorry for that night, Y/N. I didn’t mean to break your heart.”

You rolled your eyes, and he smiled fondly to your characteristic sarcastic self. “You were a free man. Well, are. You made your choice and I should have respected that.” He quirked an eyebrow and smirked, not believing a word of yours. You huffed. “Gods. It didn’t sound convincing, did it? I should have practiced more.” He laughed. It was a little bit rougher than you remembered, and a couple of tones lower, but it didn’t fail to make your heart beat faster than usual.

“Will you join me in Winterfell, Y/N?”

You nodded assertively. “I’ll accompany Lady Lyanna to the battlefield, yes.”

He shook his head, and smiled playfully at you. “I didn’t mean that. After the battle. If I survive –you flinched at those words– will you stay in Winterfell?”

You looked at him questioningly. “Why would I?”

He didn’t answer you straight away. Instead, he softly grabbed your hips and pulled you closer. You were breathing unevenly. This was something you had been waiting for for years, and after he left, you never expected for it to actually happen. Your lips softly touched, like you both were scared of the moment. But you weren’t, so you kissed him with more passion, and he didn’t hesitate to answer. When you noticed you were running out of breath you stopped, and put your head on his chest, his chin resting on your head.

“Will you, Lady Y/N? Stay in Winterfell?”

You sighed out of content. You knew your answer straight away. You had known even before he asked. “I will, Jon Sow. If you survive, I’ll take your offer. I hope it’s enough reason to fight well.”

“The best reason.”


You were sitting on the stairs, waiting for the doors of the Great Hall to open, where all the Lords of the North had been gathered. You pulled your cloak a tighter around you. The Starks were right, winter had come.

When the door opened, some Lords of different northern houses left, while others seemed to stay to talk to each other. When he saw you, Jon walked toward you, he had a small smile on his face, and he seemed visibly shaken up.

“What happened?”

He took a little to answer. He first offered you his arm, which you held onto while you started walking through the castle. “I’m the King in the North.”

Your brow rose in surprise. In the little time you had seen him ruling the army, he had seemed a good leader, but you knew how bastards were viewed in the North. “Well, that’s great. Do you have any idea on how to be a king?”

He gave a short and shaky laugh. “I was hoping you’d help me with that.”

“I’m the third-born of a Lord who’s barely known. How would I know, Your Grace?”

“Oh, please.” He winced, making you smile. “I wasn’t talking about that. You could be by my side. Be my… queen?” He was so embarrassed; you couldn’t contain your giggles anymore. He shook his head at you, but he smiled, nevertheless, happy to see you smile, since it had been so long since the last time.

“You know, Jon.” By the smirk on your face, he could see that you were only making fun at him. “I offered you the possibility to be by my side a long time ago, and you rejected me because you thought a bastard wasn’t enough. Now I’m afraid I’m not enough for a king. You should have just taken your chance when you were only a bastard.”

He stopped talking and turned to you. He held your hands and kissed your knuckles. “Please, Y/N. We lost too much time apart already. I need you by my side. To marry me. What’s a king without a queen?”

“A terrible king, I’m sure.” He leaned in to kiss you, his lips cracked from the cold, but sweet nonetheless. You two were beaming during the kiss.

“I’m looking for a yes, milady.”

You smiled cheekily and leaned, whispering in his ear: “You never said it back.”

He sighed, resting his forehead against yours. “I love you, Y/N. I always have and I always will.”

“I love you too. And I’ll marry you, my lord.”

Jon x Female Reader

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Imagine looking after Ghost whilst he’s missing and when Jon discovers it was you who took care of him, the two of you bond. 

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

\ Request from anonymous /

could you do a Jon Snow imagine where the reader is introduced to Jon after Ghost’s disappearance (you know how Ghost was missing until the 5th episode of season 4)? so maybe she had been taking care of Ghost that whole while and he became attached to her, which is why Jon and the reader form a bond :p TY! idk if that made sense, I hope it did lol

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

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the gates of winterfell are made with fresh wood and fresh iron bolts.  they had to be replaced after the uprising that king beron…was it beron?  faces all bleed together, all long, all serious, when it’s not the icy gaze and sharp blue eyes of the night king.  the gates of winterfell are made with fresh wood and fresh iron bolts.  he can usually place when he is by the shape of winterfell–what color the stones are, how many towers have been built, which of the branches of the great stone tree are young, and which are old.  everything is old when he looks at it now, even the burned tower that he’d fallen from.  so then it can’t be the reign of king beron.  some other time, then.  what other winter had he seen where they’d replaced the gates?

his eyes flutter between open and closed and he sees the swirling white winds, and a cloud so thick and dark that the only explanation is magic.  he sees them marching, shambling south.  a great cold host on his tail.  “we’re here,” he hears from far off.  a quiet set of words, so unlike the terrified shrieks of “hold the door!  hold the door!”

he blinks and guilt wracks him again.  he hadn’t even been able to say goodbye.  they’d died for him and he hadn’t been able to say–

he stares into the oncoming cold.  better that, he thinks.  better to know what is coming so he can warn them.  dark wings dark words and he is the wings now.

the world swims around him.  the gates open.  they aren’t corpses he sees now, they’re people.  but even as he looks at them, curious faces and shrewd eyes, he sees the flesh of cheeks rotting and an iciness to their gaze that can only mean death.  death will come to winterfell.  he’s seen it.  he knows it.  he must warn them, must–

he can hear the wind around him, but he is not cold.  he can feel the weight of the oncoming darkness and stares at it, for he cannot fear the darkness.  he must not fear the darkness.  sansa had once told him had told him that the demons of the dark couldn’t touch him if he hid beneath his blanket. 

he thinks he sees her there for a moment.  it can only be her, she’s got the same eyes he has, the same eyes their mother had, and her hair hanging long and loose so unlike the braids she’d so loved confecting when they’d been children.  hair long and auburn and eyes full of tears as her lips tremble with unfallen tears.

“hello sansa,” he says.  he’s not supposed to speak to the visions–the three eyed raven had told him so.  but father had heard him once as a whisper on the wind and sansa–

she rushes towards him, throwing her arms around him and squeezing him so tightly.  the heat of her body overpowers the visions of marching icy death and for half a moment he can’t see any of them at all, he can just feel her heart and quivering lungs as she cries into his neck.

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Lost Soul (Jon Snow)

word count: 3, 819

request: Hey! Could I request a Jon Snow one shot? Maybe where the reader was Ramsay Bolton’s prisoner and Jon saves her and it’s all fluffy? I love your writing btw! Much love ❤️

requested by: anon

warnings: ramsay, suicidal thoughts, rape, violence against a woman

a/n: I can never back a short one-shot when writing game of thrones fanfics. Like, I go all in. I’m extra af. There’s a lot of build up, I am so sorry. Part Two of Queen in the North will come out soon, and then Part Two of Loyalty.

Originally posted by tywinlannister

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Queen of the North

Just because I cannot get over the stupidity of some of the things in Season 7.

Sansa sat there tapping her finger against the armrest of her chair.  The ring she wore, something Jon had not seen before, making a muted noise as the metal hit against the wood.  His eyes slid over to the woman beside him, her hair gleaming silver even in the dim light of the great hall.  He was seated in the audience, in front of the head table where Sansa sat now in what was his chair, the Northern Lords having NOT welcomed the Targaryen queen as Jon had promised and in fact, had summarily deposed him in favor of Sansa who had not wanted the crown. However, she had accepted it or risk a fracture in the North caused by Jon’s short-sightedness.  The Great Hall was empty now, Sansa having asked the bannermen to leave them as she parlayed with the Dragon Queen’s party, of which he was now considered a part of.  That left a bitter taste in his mouth and he could not help but resent his sister a bit, though he knew Sansa had tried and managed to keep the support of the North behind him until they found out he had committed what they considered the ultimate betrayal.

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queenamidala  asked:

“my country’s going through some issues so i’m here in hiding and you’re a civilian who lives in the same apartment complex as me” for Jon/Sansa if you have time please! Thank you for your amazing words

it’s been 84 years but i finally wrote this, @queenamidala, and i hope you like it! modern au, 1244 words. title is from the bleachers song.

you’re still a mystery (someday i’m gonna make this right)

“What,” says Sam, looking up from Robbins and Cotran Pathologic Basis of Disease as Jon walked into their flat, “do you know of Winterfell?”

“Small country far up north,” Jon replies, setting the box of pizza down on the coffee table. “Cold as balls but lovely, from what I hear.”

“Not so lovely anymore.” Sam nods at the television, where the words “breaking news” and “civil war” are superimposed over footage of smoke rising from a skyline straight out of a medieval fairy tale. Winterfell’s historical architecture has always been its biggest draw, but right now Jon feels more sorry for its people. As a firefighter, he knows that being trapped in a burning building is a fate that no human being should have to endure.

“The king and queen are dead, apparently, and all the heirs have gone missing,” Sam continues. “Nasty business.”

“Very sad,” Jon agrees.

Two days later, a new tenant moves into the modest apartment building on the Street of the Sisters, and Jon is roused in the middle of the night by Ghost whining and scratching frantically at the door. Thinking that his normally quiet Northern Inuit needs to relieve himself on the lamp post by the curb, Jon groggily pulls on a shirt, stumbles through the living room, and throws open the door— only to curse as Ghost makes a beeline for the unit next to his and Sam’s.

“Sorry, I’m so sorry, he doesn’t…” Jon’s already babbling before he stops short at the sight of Ghost clambering all over the woman kneeling in the hallway, cooing in delight and running her fingers through his white fur.

“… bite,” Jon finishes, scratching his head. His dog tends to be wary of strangers, so this behavior is weird, to say the least.

“I was moving stuff around. The commotion probably woke him up,” the woman says, getting to her feet. She’s tall and pretty, with long black hair and eyes that are a captivating shade of blue even in the hallway’s yellow sodium light.

“Yeah, the walls are pretty thin,” Jon says, ill at ease. She’s dressed simply— jeans, boots, a gray sweater— but something about her demeanor makes him ashamed to be standing here barefoot, in boxers and a ratty shirt. “I’m Jon, by the way. Jon Snow.”

The woman shakes his proffered hand, flashing him a polite smile. “Alayne Stone.”

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knives78  asked:

You get this shot of Dany reaching for Jon but Jon does not take it her hand. Instead he chooses to go after the NK all on his own. This is significant because it tells you that if Jon could end this without the help of Dany he would, Beric showed him a different way and he really tried but failed. This if anything reinforced the notion in his mind that he can't do it without Dany.

Hi there! Thanks for the ask!

I apologize I’m just replying now. Thought I’d hold off on judging this shot until the finale aired so I could discuss it in full. Because it is a super interesting thought!

D@ny reaching for Jon was one of those 706 details I missed the first time around but it is curious upon rewatch. I don’t particularly think they telegraphed WHY Jon turned around all that well. It’s pretty chaotic with a lot happening all at once. My original assumption was that Jon realized the team needed him to provide cover to support the mission and in the process of fighting, just got cut off from them. If they wanted to telegraph that Jon intended to fight the NK, IMO, they needed more shots of closeup NK and Jon a la Jon vs Ramsey in BotB.

But thematically, it’s an interesting shot right? That D@ny offers her extended hand and Jon reaches up with clenched knuckles but then decides against taking it. That he turns away, goes in the opposite direction to be a hero on his own, still denying her help even after she flies in there with those colossal war machines. That says a whole lot. It also is another breadcrumb pointing to Viserion’s death as the gamechanger for Jon because he knows what the NK will do with a dead dragon. So fastforward to the boat, Jon realizes they are fucked without her dragons, that there is no time to waste, and he does the very un-Jon-like move of grabbing D@ny’s hand. 

For D@ny, there’s also a potent tragic metaphor in this shot: Jon Snow always just out of her reach. She extends her hand whole heartedly to him. Jon reaches half-heartedly with a clenched fist before turning away to protect others. 

The finale underscored this metaphor IMO. I believe we’re seeing undercover!Jon, so it makes me feel for her in a way. She really does spend most of the episode being influenced by him. Despite riding into the pit on a dragon (and that visual itself is its own doozy of a metaphor, flying into a dragon trap?!), she really lacks agency the whole hour. She offers her personal thoughts and feelings to Jon. He offers up nothing personal in return but she doesn’t seem to notice. When he lays out a travel plan that threatens her safety and makes her advisors nervous, she doesn’t question his motives in the plan. She buys his flimpsy excuse of sending “a better message” as Tyrion and Jorah watch Jon’s growing influence with worry. And then boatbang, she doesn’t notice Jon all weirdly stressed and panic-y on top of her? I’m honestly lowkey concerned for her lack of self-awareness and judgment of others. It makes me want to go all girlfriend on her and take her aside like, GIRL OPEN UP YOUR EYES. 

But this isn’t an out of nowhere trait. D@ny has had a long history of trusting people that are playing her. Off the top of my head, Mirri Maz, Doreah, and Jorah had all played her with varying degrees of malice, before the second book/season closed. And she was clueless until evidence came out proving their treachery. I guess the argument could be made that she’s learned since…but I’m not sure she has? She became less trusting but nothing showed us she ever worked to correct this weakness or ever got better at reading people’s intentions. She states in ACOK that she is “neither deaf nor blind”. Stannis also proclaims “I am not blind”. Both state so with lack of self-awareness to their own actual blindness.

D@ny does have a moment of realization in ADWD:

If I look back, I am doomed, D@ny told herself … but how could she not look back? I should have seen it coming. Was I so blind, or did I close my eyes willfully, so I would not have to see the price of power?

— Daenerys II, ADWD

But it is short-lived. She basically buries this, deciding to be a conqueror and leave Meeren for Westeros.

I’m particularly fascinated by that “if I look back” part because she repeats it over and over across the years. She fears looking back and feeling lost. But that’s exactly what she needs to do to gain some self-awareness and grow some discernment skills. She resists it and thus goes down a path that wasn’t her own. One that will most likely end in tragedy.

This counters Jon pretty sharply, who does nothing but observe. That’s a specific Jon talent GRRM highlights from the very beginning of the series. Bran’s climbing habit seems to be an extension of wanting to, like Jon, see things others did not.

Bran’s first chapter compares Jon’s discernment skills with Robb’s:

The deserter died bravely,” Robb said. He was big and broad and growing every day, with his mother’s coloring, the fair skin, red-brown hair, and blue eyes of the Tullys of Riverrun. “He had courage, at the least.”

“No,” Jon Snow said quietly. “It was not courage. This one was dead of fear. You could see it in his eyes, Stark.” Jon’s eyes were a grey so dark they seemed almost black, but there was little they did not see.

— Bran I, AGOT

This awareness is underscored a couple pages later when Jon discovers Ghost:

Halfway across the bridge, Jon pulled up suddenly. 

“What is it, Jon?” their lord father asked. 

“Can’t you hear it?” 

Bran could hear the wind in the trees, the clatter of their hooves on the ironwood planks, the whimpering of his hungry pup, but Jon was listening to something else. 

“There,” Jon said. He swung his horse around and galloped back across the bridge. They watched him dismount where the direwolf lay dead in the snow, watched him kneel. A moment later he was riding back to them, smiling. 

“He must have crawled away from the others,” Jon said. 

“Or been driven away,” their father said, looking at the sixth pup. His fur was white, where the rest of the litter was grey. His eyes were as red as the blood of the ragged man who had died that morning. Bran thought it curious that this pup alone would have opened his eyes while the others were still blind.

— Bran I, AGOT

Jon hears what neither Ned nor Robb nor Bran nor Theon can hear. As a consequence, he finds Ghost, the only pup of the litter with his eyes wide open.

This is barely 13 pages in. It’s akin to an establishing shot for the character.

There’s been some good takes lately on Jon physically losing his sight (at least partially) in the future. Ever since I learned Jonnel Stark (who married Sansa Stark) was a One-Eyed Lord of Winterfell, I’ve joked about a plot twist that Jon loses an eye in the war against the Dead. 

So it’s worth noting that Sam explains how Maester Aemon, though physically blind, “sees things no one else sees” (Jon VIII, AGOT). 

Arya learns through actually losing her sight that one can become hyperaware of surroundings by relying on other senses, gaining skills of discernment that others with sight ignore.

And because this is a Jonsa blog, I cannot resist adding this passage of Ned’s about Sansa:

It was queer how sometimes a child’s innocent eyes can see things that grown men are blind to. Someday, when Sansa was grown, he would have to tell her how she had made it all come clear for him.

— Eddard XII, AGOT

Of course, here, Sansa had no idea she was helping Ned. And in fact, helping him piece together the puzzle of Joffrey’s parentage actually contributed to his death. She’s still a child and her skills of discernment take some time to evolve—most notably, while she poses as a bastard in the Vale. But it’s a curious connection nonetheless.

The only other people who are said to “see things” in the series have magical connections, Thoros and Melisandre. They both are said to “see things in the flames”. In the case of Melisandre, what she saw was ultimately misleading. Thoros explains to Arya that although the flames do not lie, he can misinterpret them (“sometimes I read them wrongly, blind fool that I am”; Arya VIII, ASOS).

At the heart of the Undercover!Jon theory is the narrative need for Jon to do better than Ned and avoid his mistakes. I’ve been reviewing Ned’s chapters since S7. His words as he sits in the KL dungeon for treason are relevant:

He damned them all: Littlefinger, Janos Slynt and his gold cloaks, the queen, the Kingslayer, Pycelle and Varys and Ser Barristan, even Lord Renly, Robert’s own blood, who had run when he was needed most. Yet in the end he blamed himself. 

“Fool,” he cried to the darkness, “thrice-damned blind fool.” 

Cersei Lannister’s face seemed to float before him in the darkness. Her hair was full of sunlight, but there was mockery in her smile. “When you play the game of thrones, you win or you die,” she whispered. 

Ned had played and lost, and his men had paid the price of his folly with their life’s blood.

— Eddard XV, AGOT

This is Ned taking full stock of the consequences of his actions and owning up to them fully.

He calls himself out as a fool. A blind fool.

That connects pretty nicely with Jon up on that cliff in 703 lamenting being a Northern fool.

But if it was Ned’s blindness that made him foolish, trusting LF and underestimating Cersei, causing his death—then Jon should be uniquely positioned to prevent history from repeating itself. Indeed, if the finale is any indication, he’ll get back to Winterfell. He’ll succeed were Ned and Brandon and Rickon failed. And he’s returning having completed his original goal: to secure powerful allies and their resources to take on the NK.

So I do feel bad for D@ny. If S7 is any indication, Jon will always be just out of her reach. She has her years long resistance to looking back and fear of being lost to thank for it. No boatbangs will change that. But I can see Kit’s satisfaction with Jon this season. If the Undercover!Jon theory is correct, it’s a character move six years in the making with a hell of a potential payoff. It would pair with the R+L=J reveal, that Ned played everyone for 18+ years, spectatularly. 

“Snowy Reunions”


((Bad name? lol))

Word Count: 2,524

Warning: uh….mentions of prostitution…I think. That’s about it.

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anonymous asked:

What's ur favorite jonsa book moments?!

Hi! This will be long because I love pretty much everything Jonsa related in the books and there’s a lot of great things.

Aside from their journeys being parallels of one another with Sansa starting as a true born daughter of a Lord and ending up as a bastard and people thinking that Jon is the said Lord’s bastard son and becoming the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch I really love these moments bellow. 

My favorite moment has to be Jon cutting off Lord Slynt‘s head after Sansa wished some hero would do it. So, basically, Jon is Sansa’s hero that she has been looking for all of her life.

“Frog-faced Lord Slynt sat at the end of the council table wearing a black velvet doublet and a shiny cloth-of-gold cape, nodding with approval every time the king pronounced a sentence. Sansa stared hard at his ugly face, remembering how he had thrown down her father for Ser Ilyn to behead, wishing she could hurt him, wishing that some hero would throw him down and cut off his head. But a voice inside her whispered, There are no heroes…”

“The smile that Lord Janos Slynt smiled then had all the sweetness of rancid butter. Until Jon said, ‘Edd, fetch me a block,’ and unsheathed Longclaw.” 

I also really love both Sansa and Dany sensing Jon’s “death.” There could probably be an interesting meta written about this, but I can’t write for the life of me so I’m not doing it, lol.

 “There was ice underfoot, and broken stones just waiting to turn an ankle, and the wind was howling fiercely. It sounds like a wolf, thought Sansa. A ghost wolf, big as mountains.” - Sansa 

“Off in the distance, a wolf howled. The sound made her feel sad and lonely, but no less hungry.” - Dany

This parallel:

”She shouted for Ser Dontos, for her brothers, for her dead father and her dead wolf, for gallant Ser Loras who had given her a red rose once, but none of them came. She called for the heroes from the songs, for Florian and Ser Ryam Redwyne and Prince Aemon the Dragonknight, but no one heard. They were not little boys when they fought, but knights and mighty heroes.”

“’I’m Prince Aemon the Dragonknight,’ Jon would call out, and Robb would shout back, ‘Well, I’m Florian the Fool.’ Or Robb would say, ‘I’m the Young Dragon,’ and Jon would reply, ’I’m Ser Ryam Redwyne.’

Also, Jon thinking about Sansa before dying and associating her with Ygritte.

“(He thought) Of Sansa, brushing out Lady’s coat and singing to herself. You know nothing, Jon Snow.”

Here are some other mentions I love.

Jon mentioning Sansa:

 “Jon said, ‘Winterfell belongs to my sister Sansa.’”

“’That’s pretty.’ He remembered Sansa telling him once that he should say that whenever a lady told him her name.“

“Sansa looked radiant as she walked beside him, but Jon did not like Joffrey’s pouty lips or the bored, disdainful way he looked at Winterfell’s Great Hall.” (I still can’t believe that of all the words he could use, he used the word RADIANT.)

“He found himself thinking of his sisters, perhaps because he’d dreamed of them last night. Sansa would call this an enchantment, and tears would fill her eyes at the wonder of it, but Arya would run out laughing and shouting, wanting to touch it all.“

Sansa mentioning Jon:

“She had not thought of Jon in ages. He was only her half brother, but still … with Robb and Bran and Rickon dead, Jon Snow was the only brother that remained to her. I am a bastard too now, just like him. Oh, it would be so sweet, to see him once again. But of course that could never be. Alayne Stone had no brothers, baseborn or otherwise.“ 

“She sang for mercy, for the living and the dead alike, for Bran and Rickon and Robb, for her sister Arya and her bastard brother Jon Snow, away off on the Wall.”