was born with roses in her eyes

victarionsrighthand  asked:

What do you think about Sansa's crush on Loras? Do you think it means something that no matter how much she seems to grow as a character she still holds a crush over some pretty knight that never really seemed to care about her and she still imagines him when she kisses people (even if her thoughts get directed back to sandor)

Well… Loras is a very safe crush.

Loras plays the role for Sansa that teen heartthrobs do for many adolescent girls, a safe exploration of their growing sexuality.

The idolization of teen idols typically begins in early adolescence when girls start to become interested in romance and dating and more aware of social norms which suggest that they should have romantic feelings for someone of the opposite sex (Simon, Eder, & Evans, 1992). Rather than dating in real life, developing a crush on a teen idol is a way for girls to acknowledge their emerging sexual feelings in a safe, non-threatening way (Engle & Kasser, 2005). Because teen boys are viewed by girls as only interested in sex (McRobbie, 1991), teen idols are a preferable option. Further, they often project a feminine form of masculinity that is sexually non-threatening and thus accessible to young girls (Engle &: Kasser, 2005; Karniol, 2001; McRobbie, 1991; Sweeney, 1994).

Bitten by Twilight: Youth Culture, Media, & the Vampire Franchise

One of the most popular ways people like to hate teenage girls is to complain about their “insane” crushes on boy band members. Now, let me fucking tell you something: those big dumb crushes are what helps a teenage girl develop her sexuality in a safe environment that she can control. In her world, she can listen to One Direction and hear all these songs about how great she is, and how much these cute non-threatening boys want to make her feel special. Why is this so important? Because no one is pushing them. There’s no fourteen year old boy shoving his clammy hands down your shirt without your consent. These fantasy boys are not convincing a girl to send naked pictures, only to show all their friends and call her a slut. In the fantasy land of boy bands, the girl has all the power. And we need to stop judging them for wanting to escape into that.

–Meghan Harper, “Why I Fucking Love Teenage Girls”

ASOIAF is a medieval-style world, so it of course doesn’t have pop idols and movie stars, but it does have tournaments and tourney champions, who play that role for the adolescent girls of Westeros. (And the boys, too. Consider Bran’s idolization of knights, especially the Kingsguard.) And Loras Tyrell is not just one of the best upcoming stars of the tourney scene, but he’s so dreamy handsome, young, and from one of the best families of Westeros. (Even Robert Baratheon crushes on him, in a manly way.)

Now, the fact that Loras is actually gay (as are so many teen heartthrobs - George Michael, we miss you) makes him even safer, whether Sansa consciously realizes it or not. This is all the more important, since because of the close circles of Westeros aristocracy, Sansa Stark has far more of a chance of personally interacting with Loras Tyrell than your typical teenage girl has with her most beloved Bieber or Zayn.

So when Sansa actually has the opportunity to meet Loras, is even led to believe she might marry him… the expression of her sexuality, while very real, is also very safe:

The sight of Ser Loras Tyrell standing on her threshold made Sansa’s heart beat a little faster.

Sansa was finding it hard to walk and talk and think all at the same time, with Ser Loras touching her arm.

I am talking to him, and he’s touching me, he’s holding my arm and touching me.

Desperately she tried to think of something clever and charming to say to him, but her wits had deserted her. She almost told him how beautiful he was, until she remembered that she’d already done that.

Ser Loras in white silk, so pure, innocent, beautiful. The dimples at the corner of his mouth when he smiled. The sweetness of his laugh, the warmth of his hand. She could only imagine what it would be like to pull up his tunic and caress the smooth skin underneath, to stand on her toes and kiss him, to run her fingers through those thick brown curls and drown in his deep brown eyes. A flush crept up her neck.

–ASOS, Sansa I

Or, for a visual representation:

Now, the trouble (or not?) is that this safe crush of Sansa’s is no longer something she can rely on. Whether it’s because of her aging into womanhood, or because of her actual experiences with sexuality – the dark masculine danger of Sandor Clegane, her marriage to Tyrion Lannister (including seeing him nude and sleeping next to him in bed for weeks), the explicit rape threats of Joffrey Baratheon and Marillion, the disturbing attentions and unfatherly kisses of Petyr Baelish – when she wishes to escape into her formerly favorite safe fantasy of Loras Tyrell, it twists away from her into something else:

Before she could summon the servants, however, Sweetrobin threw his skinny arms around her and kissed her. It was a little boy’s kiss, and clumsy. Everything Robert Arryn did was clumsy. If I close my eyes I can pretend he is the Knight of Flowers. Ser Loras had given Sansa Stark a red rose once, but he had never kissed her… and no Tyrell would ever kiss Alayne Stone. Pretty as she was, she had been born on the wrong side of the blanket.
As the boy’s lips touched her own she found herself thinking of another kiss. She could still remember how it felt, when his cruel mouth pressed down on her own. He had come to Sansa in the darkness as green fire filled the sky. He took a song and a kiss, and left me nothing but a bloody cloak.

–AFFC, Alayne II

Note that there are many analyses of “the unkiss” (link 1, link 2), Sansa’s imagined memory of being kissed by Sandor the night of the Blackwater, but what many point out is that it is again an attempt by Sansa of a safe fantasy, a subconscious attempt to control and understand and romanticize a frightening sexually-charged situation. It’s just several octaves away from her non-threatening fantasies of kissing and touching the “beautiful” Loras.

And though you say Sansa still holds this crush, please note that Loras is only mentioned in Sansa’s narrative once in AFFC (that scene above), where she recognizes that Loras’s attentions were nothing real, no kisses, just a rose. Also, when she thinks about the men who helped her in King’s Landing, Loras is not one of them. Furthermore, he’s not mentioned at all in her TWOW preview chapter – which, considering it focuses on an upcoming tourney and the young knights who wish to be its champions, should be a perfect occasion for the pretty knight Loras to stroll through Sansa’s head, and yet he does not.

So I would say that Sansa’s adolescent crush on Loras is something perfectly understandable… and also something she has outgrown. I hope that helps!

Persephone was born with eyes wide as saucers,
a string of flowers for an umbilical cord. Her fist
smaller than a pomegranate, that unshakable
faith. She dances around, only love taking up
the space of her tiny mouth. New, shiny, pink.
Vulnerable. Screaming like a warrior. Grows up
teething on sunflower stems. Pricks her finger on
rose thorns. Goes back for more. Dreams in shades
of wildflower. Angers the Gods when she prays to
willow trees, when she calls nature Mother and
bends down on her knees.

Grabbed from behind, brought to a place where
the flowers couldn’t withstand the heat. She
wilted. Older, dimmer, face red from the flames.
Angry. Screaming like a warrior. Uses her softness
as vengeance. Grows cactus, desert lilies, and alfalfa.
Says, I will make this whole place beautiful because
it’s all I know. I will be Spring. I will be an act of
rebellion against your desert. I will utilize this green
thumb and Mother will be proud. I will pray to what
taught me to see beauty, spread Her knowledge around.
I am the strongest flower and your heat will not kill me.

—  Persephone’s Vengeance, Angelea Lowes
Doughnuts / Bucky Barnes

request:  Hi there! Can I request a Bucky x Reader with 21 from the prompt list please? @sireennotsiren

21 :  “I’m bulletproof…but please, don’t shoot me.”

A/N: Thank you for the request. This will be my first fanfic with my precious murder bean so I hope you enjoy!

warnings: language… that’s about it

Originally posted by joseph-castellanos

“Agent (Y/L/N),” Cap greeted as he stepped off the quinjet.

“Captain Rogers, how did the mission go?”

“It was tiresome,” he chuckled.

You gave a small smile before looking back at the quinjet which Sam, T’Challa, Nat and Bucky had just stepped out of. You nodded towards them but kept your gaze on Bucky.

“How’s Barnes adjusting?”

Cap sighed,” He’s getting better. Still has nightmares though, keeps people out.”

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anonymous asked:

I really like your little red riding hood character designs!! Is there any way I can know their plot and backstories?

Thank you! There’s a lot of stuff I won’t go into detail about until the comic starts, but I’ll share some general knowledge with you :) I’ve said a lot of this stuff in replies to YouTube comments but I realise I haven’t made a post to direct people to. I’m itching to reveal the title, but I can’t until I make the final decision on what site it’s gonna be hosted on. Anyway, here we go.

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wotcher, vic

The first time Victoire meets Teddy, he’s two and she’s just been born. She doesn’t remember any of it, but later, much later, her parents would tell her that she’d gurgled at the sight of him like she’d known he was going to end up being her best friend. And then—this part is always accompanied by a knowing smirk—when they brought Teddy up to the new mother and daughter (“Das a bay-bee?” he’s later quoted as saying. “Weird.”), his hair changed from Weasley-red to the same shade of blonde as hers.

“Zis ees Victoire,” her maman had said, smiling down at Teddy. “Do you want to say ‘ello, Teddy?”

And Teddy had cocked his head to the side, nodded in the sort of pompous, overly-excited fashion that only a two-year-old could get away with, and said, “Wotcha, Vic.”


By the time Victoire can talk and walk (and thus cause all sorts of trouble), she and Teddy are inseparable. Literally—Victoire throws tantrums that pay hefty tribute to her Veela heritage whenever she goes more than a few days without seeing her best friend. Sometimes, they hang out at Auntie And-rah-meh-da’s house, but most of the time, it’s either at the Burrow or Shell Cottage or sometimes even Uncle Harry’s house. Her maman frowns when Victoire comes home with her hair a mess and her dress splattered with mud, but because Victoire’s cheeks are always flushed and her grin is set to devour her whole face, she doesn’t say anything.

After all, there’s always Cleaning Charms (and thank Merlin for them). And besides, as Victoire’s daddy likes to say when he thinks Victoire isn’t listening, “at least she’s still young enough that the only trouble she gets into with boys is a spot of mud.”


When Victoire turns two, her maman and daddy sit her on the couch between them and tell her that she’s going to have a sister. Victoire doesn’t care much. A sister would be nice, she thinks. Teddy is nice, but he’s four now. He’s old and sometimes he doesn’t want to hang out with her because she’s too young. Plus, he’s a boy. And boys are gross, even if they’re crazy-haired Metamorphmagus boys named Teddy. (Especially if.)

“My maman’s gonna have a baby,” she tells Teddy a few days later, lying down on the grass beside him.

Teddy doesn’t say anything for a long moment, just continues pulling up grass with stubby fingers. “Good,” he says suddenly, and she’s so surprised that she turns to face him. His hair is black like Uncle Harry’s. “You’ll have someone else to play with.”

Victoire’s face screws up. “Why’re you so mean tuh me?” she demands shrilly, sitting up and glaring at him.

Teddy turns away from her, his hair briefly taking on the same shade of green as the grass around them before returning to jet black. “Because I’m older,” he answers angrily, throwing his handful of grass at her. Most of it lands on her dress, but she can feel pieces of it in her hair. “I don’t want to play with babies like you all the time.”

Victoire starts crying. She pushes herself off the ground and runs back to the safety of her home, wishing she’d never met Teddy Lupin. That Muggle girl from the nearby village was right—boys are meanies. But she never thought Teddy could be like them. He’d taught her how to colour and he played in the mud with her and brought her Chocolate Frogs when she was sad. He was nice… wasn’t he?

Or not. Beyond furious and more than a little sad, she stomps into the cottage and slams the door behind her with as much force as she can muster. One of the panes of glass breaks, and her maman comes running into the room at the noise, one hand cradling her tummy, eyes wide. Her daddy is only a few steps behind her, his forehead all scrunched up, wand in hand.

“What ees eet, ma chérie?” her maman asks, crouching down and cradling Victoire’s face in her hands. Her beautiful features—her mother really is beautiful, the most beautiful woman in the whole world—are twisted with worry. “What ‘appened? Are you okay? Are you ‘urt? Where ees Teddy?”

When she hears Teddy’s name, Victoire starts to sob even harder. “He—he called me a baby,” she bawls, throwing her arms around her mother. “He said he was glad you’re havin’ a baby ‘cause then he doesn’t have tuh play with me anymore!”

Her mother pulls her onto her lap and starts to rock her back and forth, singing an old French lullaby under her breath. Victoire’s daddy looks angry, but he crouches next to her too, stroking her hair. “I don’t care if the kid’s four and basically family,” he mutters lowly to his wife. “I’m going to kill him.”

Victoire’s maman giggles quietly as she continues to rock Victoire back and forth. “Beell,” she says in the same tone of voice she uses on Victoire when she’s done something bad, “you cannot ‘urt every boy who ‘urts Veeky.”

“But I want to,” Victoire’s daddy mumbles, sounding every bit like his daughter in her most petulant moments.

Victoire’s maman huffs, but there’s a small smile playing out across her lips. “‘e is young,” she says firmly. “And ‘e will make mistakes. Watch—’e will be back to apologize. ‘E cannot stay away.”

And sure enough, fifteen minutes later, there’s a timid knock on the door, and it’s Teddy, looking small and lost. “I—uh…” he trails off, his eyes flickering between his scuffed trainers and where Victoire stands behind her father, hands on her hips like Aunt Ginny when she wants to look intimidating. “I’m sorry, Vicky. I was being mean.”

Victoire’s already forgiven him—she forgave him five minutes ago. But she still darts out from being her father and plants a kick square on Teddy’s shin. It gets her a time-out from her mother and an irritated look from Teddy, but her father’s smiling into his palm, so it’s worth it.


Her sister is born four months before Victoire’s third birthday. Victoire’s in St. Mungo’s waiting room with Teddy and Andromeda—she only learned how to properly say the older woman’s name a few weeks ago—because there’s too much screaming in room where her mother and it smells too much like the Burrow after one of Grandma Weasley’s cleaning days.

Finally, a Healer finds them and tells them the baby has been born and would you please come this way, ma’ams and sir. Victoire, scared and nervous and excited all at the same time, grabs Teddy’s hand as they follow behind the adults. Teddy’s hair turns bright red—brighter than her daddy’s—but he doesn’t pull away.

When they reach the room, the rest of her family is already there, crowded around a bed, but they smile and make room for her once they spot her. Victoire catches sight of her mother with a bundle of blankets in her arms, hair dark with sweat, cheeks flushed. But both she and Victoire’s daddy, who’s hovering beside her and looking pale, are smiling widely.

Her mother motions for Victoire come closer. Victoire hasn’t let go of Teddy’s hand yet, so he just follows behind her shyly as she gets closer to the bed. “This ees your new sister, Veeky,” her maman whispers hoarsely, holding the blankets out to Victoire.

Victoire looks down at the blankets, shocked to see a pair of blue eyes staring back at her somberly. It’s so small. Hesitantly, she reaches out a finger and touches one of the baby’s tiny fingers. The baby makes a noise that sounds a little like a laugh, and Victoire’s maman smiles even wider. “‘Er name ees Dominique.”

Victoire doesn’t really understand what’s going on, but she hugs her mom anyways, and when Teddy whispers, “are all babies this ugly?” into her ear, she stomps on his foot even though she kind of agrees with him.


Victoire’s brother Louis arrives when Victoire is four and a half, and Shell Cottage becomes a warzone. Luckily, though Teddy is almost seven now—way older than her—he still hangs out with her when he’s not seeing his other friends.

One day, when everyone’s at the Burrow for Sunday Brunch, he tells her that he’s going to teach Louis all his tricks. Victoire looks at him in her best Aunt Ginny impression—hands on her hips, upturned eyebrows, pursed lips, eyes blazing—and says, “what tricks, Teddy Lupin?” She’s just lost her childish lisp, and it makes her sound older. Teddy blanches.

“Blimey, Ted,” Uncle Ron laughs, clapping an affronted Teddy on the back. “You’d better watch out.”

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Reality Check

Haggar’s magic was usually nothing more than a shock to make you majorly injured in places you wish it hadn’t.

This time it was different and it was only aimed at what Haggar claimed was “your least important paladin.” Which of course she assumed it was Lance.

After the purple lightning struck Lance, a cloud of dust rose around them causing the other Paladins to cough and hack.

When the dust settled, what stood before the others was another Lance. He had been duplicated. “I would kill you now but I think you could do that for me!” Haggar laughed. “Find out who the real Blue Paladin is, or he will die! You have 7 minutes.” She chuckled.

“Psh. Easy.” Keith scoffed. “What’s my name?”

“Keith.” The two Lances rolled their eyes in unison then looked at each other in surprise. How could a clone know this?

“Where were you born?” Pidge narrowed her eyes as if she was attempting to look for subtle hints of the fake.

“Earth.” They said together again. This would begin to prove difficult for the other paladins of Voltron.

For the next 3 minutes, they asked questions both Lance’s knew the answer to easily. Things only the real Lance would know, yet they both did.

“How come you haven’t asked questions about me!” One Lance stepped forward.

“Or stuff you barely know about me!” The other Lance followed.

The other Paladins felt that they were in a knot. They were aware they had little to no time left before Lance was killed. “Who’s the real Lance!”

“ME!” Only one Lance answered. The other stayed quiet. He looked down at the floor.

“What does it matter? You don’t know enough about me to tell anyway. You never cared. You won’t care now.” He mumbled.


“ITS TOO LATE PALADINS!” Haggar shrieked and before anyone could scream or call a name, the real Lance was electrocuted until his mouths foamed and his body shook violently. He screamed for a good fifteen seconds and then he just…


His lifeless body lay still on the metal floors of the base, his deactivated bayard just out of reach if his right hand. His eyes were still open and so dull. You would forget they were blue. He looked worse than he did that time when Sendak took over.

He was dead. Lance. Was. Dead. Because his teammates couldn’t ask the right questions. Because they didn’t know him.

Haggar laughed and left them alone calling more soldiers to kill them next. “Oh my god…” Pidge put her hands over her mouth.

Allura was shouting in their ears, soldiers were on their way, there was only one option. Shiro seemed like nothing happened which made Hunk and Pidge angry.

Keith couldn’t look at him. He couldn’t look at the damage. He picked up Pidge and ran out of there on Shiro’s order. “NO! KEITH LET GO OF ME! WE HAVE TO GET LANCE! LANCE!” Pidge screamed and kicked against Keith.

Hunk had to be pulled away by Shiro before he started running. He kept his eyes on Lance as long as he could, whispering one last goodbye to his buddy.

And so they left Lance there dead. His body, his gear, his Lion, all left in galran hands; there by galran hands.

Imagine: You catch Ramsay's eye. He watches you, then he gives you revenge.

It was your voice that caught his attention. He was walking to feed the hounds when he heard you. You were by a small shop, talking to an old woman about how to make candles last longer.

He looked over, to try to see who had created such a beautiful sound. And it was you. Your physical features were gorgeous. Your hair was (H/L), and (H/C). It was a wonder how you looked so flawless. Ramsay stopped walking, fiddling with the keys in his hand. You looked wonderful delicious.

He was a young boy, a cruel boy. So the first thing on his mind was getting off. Satisfying his urges and lust.

Your eyes were dark, and when you noticed the lord was staring you looked over at him. Your heart also leapt. Those pretty big eyes locked with his and both your stomach’s jumped. It was like time froze. His throat tightened.

You smiled politely, before looking back to the woman you were talking to. It pissed Ramsay off greatly. He wanted your attention. He wanted you to think about him. To wonder. To lust. He wanted your mouth to water when you saw him.

He remembered your face and fed the dogs.


“I want five men following her at all times.” Ramsay said to his advisor. Since he killed his father, he was the warden of the North. So he was in control of everyone there.

“Gutter, Thoro, Tames, Red, and Scout.” He announced. “You five will make sure no harm comes to her. Do not let her know you are there, though. If she comes in contact with any of you, I will kill you.” He smiled darkly. “Understood?” They nodded. “Good.”

Ramsay had to admit, he was being stalkerish about this. But he had to make sure his little cardinal was safe. Especially out here in the North.

He found out soon you were a lady, you had visited from the fingers and decided to stay. You had formed a bond with one of the bed warmers, but thankfully you weren’t one of them. Ramsay would have to kill every man who touched you.

A few days went by and he convinced the bed warmers to get to know you, and tell him about you. Things you liked, loved, and hated. Your favorite flowers and books.

After a month he found out where you lived. It wasn’t from lack of information and struggle, it was because he had lots of things to do. But your place was in the tavern, sleeping in one of the rooms with your friend Ross.

He sent you the first gift right after that. It was a bundle of (F/F), your favorite flower. He didn’t let you know it was from him, though. The game was too fun to give that away so fast.

He ordered Ross to tell him how you reacted. And, it disappointed him. You didn’t seem happy, you looked annoyed. If Ross was being truthful, you even said “what dirty old man sent me this?”. Ross tried to convince you it was a romantic gesture. But you didn’t care. You were stuck on the idea it was some creep who wanted into you.

For the next few days he focused on his work. He didn’t care for getting Sansa back. He had another lady in mind. But he was still going to storm castle black. He was going to spoon Commander Snows eyes out. It infuriated him that the stark bitch and Reek escaped.

But he didn’t care too much. His army would win anyways. Soon enough he started thinking about you again.

He had heard you liked talking forest walks, from his five men who had followed you. You would go down the stream, into the woods, and you’d sit on a tree stump and just look at the sky and read. It was beautiful, when he pictured it in his mind. So he decided to go see for himself.

It was really early, the times you went to take your walks. He was fine with it, the waking up early bit. He dismissed his guards and walked far behind you, able to see your hair faintly from far in front of him. He wished he was a little bit faster. Soon enough you turned into the woods, going to sit on your big tree root and admire nature.

When he walked into the woods he saw you were crying. You had your arms wrapped around your legs, your forehead on your knees. His heart caught on fire. Who did this. Who caused you this pain? He would flay their neck and make them live like that.

You didn’t hear him walk up to you, sitting down next to you. “My dear…” He finally spoke up and you gasped, jumping away. “Woah now, calm down please.” He smiled at you. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Lord Bolton?” You trembled, wiping your tears away.

He smiled, nodding. “And you are?”

“(Y/N). (Y/L/N).” You sighed. “Sorry. Excuse me.. but… What are you doing out here?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing, sweetling.” He said. You were beautiful. Seeing you up close was like seeing an angel. It made him believe in gods.

“Just walking.” You said, and he said the same.

“But why are you crying?” He asked. He wanted you to tell him so badly. So he could find whomever or whatever caused you this pain.

“It’s stupid.” You said, and he was surprised at your comfortability with him. It was probably because you were so hurt. And it made him angry.

“I doubt that.” He said.

“My betrothed…” You had whimpered and tried not to cry. “He slept with one of my friends…”

That made him angry in three ways. Your lover hurt you, your friend hurt you, and you had loved someone in such a deep way.

He stood up, and you looked at the tall handsome lord. “Ramsay?”

“Come with me.” He held out his hand and you pulled herself to your feet. He hugged you tightly, and you started sobbing. It was strange to get comfort from him. But you needed it. “Shh, my dear..” He soothed you, rubbing your head. He gently rocked you back and forth. He separated from you and smiled. “Show me them.”

Your eyes widened. “You don’t have to…”

Oh but he would. And he did.

He took your hand and you went back into the town. “Show me them.” He said again. You led him into the tavern, and he was hit with many foul smells. He wrinkled his nose in disgust. But you lived here, so he didn’t want to upset you. He put on a straight face and ignored the smells. You were too beautiful to be seen upset.

When people recognized him they gasped, standing up. The music stopped, and all the women froze.

“My Lord.” Ross, the main attraction it seemed, smiling and curtseying, spoke in her seductive voice. “What can I get you?”

“You think I’m here to pay for sex?” He laughed. You seemed uncomfortable so he saved his speech. “Nothing. I don’t need you.” He waved her away. She smiled and walked off. He turned to you, and he felt that same strange feeling of euphoria. His beautiful girl.

“Show me where they are, lovely.” He said to you, and you pointed to the back. Your room.

He grinned wickedly. “Would you like to see them bleed? Would you like to see them beg for their lives?”

“Don’t hurt them…” You said quietly. “Just scare them… Please…”

It made him angry and upset. He wanted to hurt them. He wanted to make them bleed. And scream.

Suddenly, an idea surfaced. He wouldn’t hurt them at all. But his hounds would.

“As you wish.” He smiled at you, and went into the room. A man and a woman lay asleep on the bed. The man was ugly, long hair. Very chiseled jaw. He had a slight beard. The woman was of course what every whore looked like. Long hair, thin eyebrows and lots of color on her eyelids.

“I will take them to my dungeon.” He smiled, and so he did.
“Why did you do that for me?” You asked him. You were sitting in the woods again, the same pretty spot you always sat.

“Because it angered me to see you sad, love.” He said to you. “And, well, I can do anything I please.”

You smiled, and looked up at the sky. “But I can’t live in the tavern anymore.” You were right. They would never let you.

“You always have a place in winterfell.” He smiled at you.

“I don’t want to be a bother, my lord.” You said politely. He understood how you felt.

“Not a bother at all.” He told you. “I’d love to have you around.” He could imagine his hand around your throat as he fucked you. Your breath ragged as he made you feel such great pleasure. His tongue pleasing you. Your hand slapping his face. Your nails making him bleed. Your teeth making him bruise.

You looked happy. And it made him happy.

He gave you a room beside his. Close to him, so he could make sure you had everything you needed. And so that he could get there quickly at night.

Once, he was in his room killing time before dinner. He heard you crying,and he rushed in your room. “(Y/N)!” He kneeled next to you. You looked terribly sad. Crying again, like when he first met you. “Poor beautiful cardinal, tell me what’s wrong.”

“I keep thinking about it Ramsay I can’t fucking stop thinking about his bloody face and her hair and how they had sex in the bed I slept in since I was 12!” You leapt at him weeping. You sobbed into his arms and he held you, sitting on the floor.

“My sweet rose.” He sighed, petting your (H/C) hair. “You didn’t want me to hurt them then. Do you want me to now?”

You looked up at him through your red watery eyes. “Make them wish they were never born.” You said through your teeth. He grinned wickedly. He was rubbing off on you perfectly.

You looked at the two people tied on the X. Melisa, and your former lover, Leo. There was anger in your eyes. Normally, even in this situation, a girl would be scared. She would feel sympathy. But you, oh, you. You loved it. You wanted to see them hurt.

It thundered loudly outside, and you jumped a bit. His heart leapt. You were so beautiful. He wanted to protect you from everything. He would do anything to see you happy.

“What do you want me to do with them, my rose?” He asked you, and you looked up to him with those big (E/C) eyes.

“What causes the most pain?”


“Rose H. Barton: Born with a distinctive red birthmark covering her right eye, Rose’s childhood was not an easy one. Despite this, she possesses an unusual amount of determination uncharacteristic of her meek disposition. Her life growing up is a mystery, but she will first make an appearance while moving into Ashwick, bringing with her an unorthodox way of counteracting the ghostly epidemic …”

A (long overdue) full-body character sheet for Rose! I’m sorry this took so long, but I’ve been working on a lot of exciting stuff. Wolfe and Hunter are next, depending on which one I finish first!


Hi there! Daddy Harry has got me fucked up :) Here is one more fluff. Hope you like it. Btw talk to me about astrology or if you need any help or just wanna talk, my asks are always open. Feedbacks please:).

Word count :: 1470

You were seven months into pregnancy. Having a round belly whilst having two monkeys at home wasn’t an easy thing. The mood swings and hormones weren’t a much of big help as well. Rose and Noah were only 4 and a half and 3 respectively. quite young the babies were. Plus Harry being busy with the movie promotion and new single coming up was difficult, though he always tried to give you time as much as he can.

You groaned siting down on the couch. The soft spongy stuff giving relief to your hips and your swollen feet as you rest them on the coffee table in front of you. You just had gotten Noah to sleep and now you were beyond exhausted. Harry was at work. Rose in school. Harry had told you that he’d pick Rose up from her school the morning he left so one thing was off your list to worry about.

You closed your eyes and laid head back trying to relax when you sudden pressure on your stomach. She was kicking again. It was a weird thing for you to have her kick during a specific time. In mornings she’s calm but as it makes to afternoon, her hype self starts and so does her legs. You rubbed the swell of your belly trying to get her calm down.

“Hype baby aren’t you? ” you smiled to self with the thought of once again having small bundle of joy in your arms in a few days.  Time went like sand slipping through fingers. It’s like you blinked and your babies were this much big. Though they were pain in nose sometimes, you loved them endlessly. For a mother, her children are her everything. She devotes herself to her kids. So did you. Rose and Noah meant everything to you. They were the centre of your world.

“Can’t wait to meet you Snow.” You whispers as a fast tear rolled down your cheek.

When you found out that this one is gonna be a girl, Harry suggested to name her Snow. Beatiful and pure as it.

“y/n!!!!” Harry came running to you where you stood in the bathroom.

“look its snowing! First Snow fo winter!” He said excitedely. He had so much passion and love in his eyes. No matter how old he grew, he still was a kid at heart. But when his eyes when to the thing which had you distracted from him, he teared up. Blinking your own tears away you nodded smilig. Positve the test showed. One more baby was on the way.

“If it’s a girl can we call her Snow?” he asked with hope in his eyes. All you did was nod and embraced him in a tight hug.

And basically that’s how he came up with it and with the name Rose and Noah as well. Rose because, when she was born she was pink as it and Harry found her immensely delicate. So you guys decided to stop on that name. Noah becasue when he was born, Harry though that he looked more like Ryan Gosling. Though you didn’t think like that, to you he looked like Harry only but for his happiness you let Harry name him Noah. All three names were admirable and suited your kids personality perfectly.

Rose was beautiful and delicate like one. She was kind and was just like her father. Gentle and humble.

Noah was much like you. Bubbly, talkitive and had brown straight hair unlike Rose who had curls at the end. But he too had a kind heart like his father.

Harry was no doubt brought upp a gentleman by his mother. And he was doing the same for kids. Along with you, he gave kids the best habbits he could. How you should always brush your teeth before bed, how you should fold your own clothes, carry your plate to he kitchen etc.Though they were bit too young, he wanted to have it from the beginning. And when kids started following his rules, you could see the happiness and pride in his eyes glistening with love for his kids.

“momma?” You heard small croacked voice. Opening your eyes, you saw Noah standing with tears in his eyes. His hair were messy and his pyajamas was scrunched along with his tee. He had his penguin fluffy toy tucked under his arm. His lips bottom started to wobble so without wasting a time you called him to you.

“baby c'mere. What’s wrong?” You cooed as you opened your arms for the toddler to come in them and being momma’s boy, he gladly did so.

“what happened?” you asked tucking him under your right hand and he insantly hide his face in your chest. You rubbed his back with one hand and ran other in his soft hair.

“yeh wove meh no more afte’ baby come” he said. There was a hint of sadness in his voice, how the tiny baby boy was desperately hurt thinking that his mother won’t love him after the new baby. Hearing those words broke you just like every mother. How could you ever stop loving him? But the poor three year old believed that you could.

“oh no no bubba. Momma can never stop loving her precious baby.” you said holding up your own tears. You felt his grip going tight on you. His tiny arms couldn’t reach your back but rested on the swell of your belly.

“b-because new baby is small and need momma more” he said weeping as he oulled away to face you. His nose pink along with his cheek and ears. You cupped his small face and rubbed his tears strained cheek. Collecting the small tear soff his eyes you leaned in to peck his forehead.

“that’s right. Baby is gonna be so tiny and will need mommy but, that doesn’t mean that mommy will stop loving you. Even Rose had to share me with you when you were born. You were so tiny that you need to be looked after all th etime, but that didn’t made mommy to stop loving Rose. now did it huh?” you asked softly still rubbing his cheek. He shook his head sniffling.

“i-i don’t wanna share mommy” he cried once again clutching onto to you and this time, it was bad. He was so innocent that the thought of him sharing his mommy with the new baby was unbearable for him.

“hey hey. Baby look at meh” you said cradling his face. He stared at you sniffling with those green eyes he resembled from his daddy. You smiled softly and put his hand on your belly. His hand small baby hand scrunched at first but eventually flatend on your belly. And soon there was a kick. And taking you by surprise, Noah eyes were wide open and mouth big agaped.

“momma!!! Something happen!!!” he said. Tears now were forgotten.

“yes baby!! It’s your sister. She says she loves you. She just high fived you from momma’s tummy!” you exclaimed gigglng. His face expression changed from surprise to happiness as he sat properly so that he can look at your tummy properly.

“Really mommy?” he asked.

“yed baby!! try again” you said and so he did it again. And once again you felt the kicks. His smiled grew and next thing you knew was Noah kissing your belly.

“I wove you too baby sister.” he said out of love. The heartwarming scene brought tears to your eyes.

“How was you’ day?” Harry asked rubbing your shoulder with your face hidden in his neck. At last you had your man and all you wanted was to have a nice warm cuddle with him. It was past kids bedtime and they were already tucked in beds.

“good. Noah started crying because he thought after Snow is born i won’t love him.” You mumbled pecking the soft skin of his neck.

“really? wha’ happened next?” he asked showing interest in hearing out about his baby. Harry missed spending time with kids so he made uo by hearing to their stories.

“I made him feel the kick a-” you were going on but the loud thud made you pull away. You saw Noah running through your bedroon door and crawling on the bed betweeen you two. Carefully he leaned in and kissed your belly softly and then hugged it.

“love you snowie. I wove you. Always. I am your bwig brother.” He said and ran off to his room before kissing your tummy one more time.

“He fell in love with his sister.” you smiled watching him go and tilted your head to look at harry who had tears in his eyes. You cuddled to him and let him be. Fathers did needed to cry. They’re fathers after all.

Blue Winter Roses

Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark’s love started the war, Jon Snow and Daenerys Targaryen’s love will end it. Spoilers for season 7.

Pairings; Rhaegar Targaryen/Lyanna Stark; Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen

Blue Winter Roses

“A blue flower growing from a chink in a wall of ice, filling the air with sweetness.”

Rhaegar Targaryen was the fiercest warrior in all of Westeros. The son of the “mad king” Aerys Targaryen II and the beautiful Rhaella. Rhaegar was the crowned prince of Dragonstone and the heir to the iron throne, set to take over the mighty House Targaryen when his father succeeded the throne to him. He was said to be one of the most beautiful men in all the realm with flowing silver hair, a body like one of the gods, and violet eyes. Rhaegar had a special talent that was one of his most admired traits. He loved to sing. The bards would sing songs of just how beautiful his voice was. Rhaegar was never one for the song of swords like his rivals Robert Baratheon and Jaimie Lannister. He always preferred his golden harp to the cold silver steel of his sword.

Rhaegar would often visit Summerhall and bring only his harp. His songs were said to reduce women to tears. He was desired by all the Dornish and Westorsi princesses. Rhaegar had chosen his bride to be Elia Martell, the beautiful Dornish princess. They had a lavish wedding and she birthed him two children, Rhaenys and Aegon. Rhaegar believed Aegon to be the prince that was promised, born to make the world a better place. Elia had grown bed-riden due to the demanding births of her children. She was told she couldn’t have anymore children due to the harsh births of Aegon and Rhaenys. All the more, Rhaegar had kept his vow to his Dornish wife. That is until the tourney at Harrenhall.

Rhaegar had succeeded tremendously at the tourney, even beating Ser Arthur Dayne. He had won the opportunity to crown the queen of love and beauty. A beautiful crown made of blue winter roses. The whole crowd has expected him to name the princess his queen. After all, she was the future queen of Westoros. Rhaegar gave his crown of winter roses to another, Lyanna Stark, Robert Baratheon’s betrothed.

Lyanna Stark was beautiful, although her beauty was thought to be of a wild kind. Lyanna didn’t share the features of Elia Martell. She had long raven hair, a thin frame, and eyes of grey. She was a noble and righteous woman, but wild at heart. She was born to the broody Stark family of Winterfell. She loved her brothers Brandon, Benjen, and Ned with a fierce loyalty. Lyanna was betrothed to Robert Baratheon, as her father Rickard had promised her to the young lord of Storm’s end. Lyanna had confided in Ned that Robert wasn’t one to keep his marriage bed vows.

Lyanna had come to the tourney at Harrenhal and noticed three men kicking a boy no younger than 15. The boy was Howland Reed who happen to be employed by her father. Lyanna saved the boy and cleaned up his wounds. Lyanna was a kind soul at heart. Howland Reed would always remember that women who saved him from the squires. Lyannna had attended a feast and saw the crown prince Rhaegar Targaryen play a beautiful and sad song on his harp. It made her weep. Rhaegar later crowned her the queen of love and beauty placing a crown of blue winter roses on her lap.

If the rumors were to be believed, Lyanna was kidnapped by Rhaegar Targaryen with the help of Ser Arthur Dayne and Ser Oswell Whent. Many tales have been told about the wolf girl and the dragon prince. If they were to believe Robert Baratheon, Lyanna was taken against her will and raped by Rhaegar Targaryen. If they were to believe others, Lyanna went of her own free will with the handsome prince. Tales of songs and stories never to be forgotten some would say. Only the truth remained for those who were there.

The real truth behind Rhaegar and Lyanna’s story was simple. A true love story. Although the rumors told of a grim tale of the two star crossed lovers, the reality was far from it. Lyanna had willingly gone with her prince to Dorne. Against the advice and pleading of her brothers and family, Lyanna had unwittingly caused a War in the Seven Kingdoms that would last years. Much like Helen of Troy, the face that launched a thousand ships. Rhaegar abandoning his duty to wife Elia Martell, and Lyanna abandoning her duty to betrothed Robert.

Rhaegar had his marriage to Elia annulled. A secret hidden away in the lost pages of the citadel. Until a man named Samwell Tarly came upon them years later, but that’s a tale for another time. He and Lyanna married in a forest wedding deep in the woods of Dorne. Lyanna had looked truly radiant in a deep blue violet gown, flowing raven hair, and a bouquet of winter blue roses. Rhaegar looking like the Targaryen he was in full red and black armor with three dragon heads on the crest. They had recited their undying love for each other in the woods on the that moonlit night.

The tales tell of the love that started the war, or as many know Robert’s rebellion. Robert seething with jealousy and wrath at Rhaegar for taking the one women he couldn’t have. He became obsessed with the wolf princess, even as he took Cersei Lannister as a bride. Cersei knew he never truly loved her, but Cersei had a secret of her own. She was fucking her twin brother, Jaime. Although that’s a tale for another time as well. This Jaime Lannister, also known as Kingslayer, had slayed Rhaegar’s father “Mad King” Aerys Targaryen II. Aerys wanted to burn King’s Landing to ground with wildfire. They say Targaryens are born with the flip of coin due to the rampant incest in their lineage to keep their bloodline pure, one side is madness the other side greatness. Aerys had landed on madness. Rhaegar on greatness.

Although Rhaegar had greatness in him, his love was selfish. He chose love over duty and honor. He had foolishly and recklessly caused the marriage of three great houses to collapse. One with a mad king, one with a jealous fat cunt, and the other with wolf blood. This selfishness is what ultimately led to his death at the trident at the hands of Robert Baratheon. He had fought valiantly. Although Rhaegar had betrayed his marriage and family name, the people still loved him. He was brave, noble, and kind. Rhaegar was foolish though, blinded by love for a woman who smelled like winter roses. The fall of House Targaryen laid at his feet. Robert Baratheon crowned king of the seven kingdoms after the Kingslayer killed Aerys. Robert later betrayed by Cersei, and the Lannisters held the throne for years. Alas, the wheel continuing. “Starks,Lannisters, Baratheons, Targaryens, Tyrells, they are just spoke on a wheel. This one is on top that one is on top and on and on it spins.” It wouldn’t be until 20 years later that the wheel was finally broken.

Howland Reed, the young boy Lyanna saved from the squires, happened to be there that day Ned Stark brought a screaming baby boy from the Tower of Joy. A beautiful boy with grey eyes and dark hair. ”Promise me, Ned.” Lyanna begged of her brother to keep the boy a secret. If Robert knew of her child with the dragon prince, he would kill the boy. Ned had tried to urge Lyanna to keep fighting for her life, but a bed of blood claimed the light from her eyes. Ned would keep this promise till his death at the hands of the Lannisters on the block.

Ned had taken to name him Jon, and passed him off as his own. The boy Jon growing up to be Jon Snow, the bastard of Winterfell. Ned Stark had told his wife, Catelyn Tully, of the bastard boy fathered by him and a tavern wench and she had despised the boy his whole childhood. Ned loved Jon as if he was his own flesh and blood, although never revealing to Jon the truth although Jon begged him to tell him of his mother. Jon growing close with siblings Arya, Bran, Robb, and Rickon. Sansa Stark learning from her mother’s hate never treated the boy with kindness when he was a child. Ned had been summoned by Robert Baratheon to be his Hand. Ned took Sansa with him to the capital. Sansa always dreamed of marrying a young price. Catelyn had forbid Jon from Winterfell. Jon went North and took the black becoming a man in the Night’s Watch. He was to take no wife and have no children. Jon believing to be a bastard never thought he would find love as he had been looked down upon by Catelyn his whole life, never knowing a mother’s love. Little did Catelyn Tully know that boy would become King in the North, and command the very castle she forbid him from.

The King in the North was much like his father, but his looks took greatly after his mother. Jon was brave, noble, and kind. He was selfless and honest as well, a trait Rhaegar lacked greatly. Jon always assumed he gotten those qualities from his mother. Jon still baffled by the whole reveal of his lineage. He never truly thought of Rhaegar as his father. Ned Stark being the one who raised him from birth and taught him the morals of honor and integrity. He was never a Targaryen, he’d always be a Stark. Jon wish Ned would have told him of his mother, Lyanna. He had only heard tales from Howland Reed of how she saved him from the squires during the tourney at Harrenhal. Howland Reed told Jon as much in the tents outside of Greywater Watch during the War of the dead. So little time did he have to learn of his mother. Jon knew she loved blue winter roses and he somehow came upon them when the war ended at the remnants of the wall. He would always pick them for his wife after she had told him of her prophecy so long ago in the House of the Undying. “A blue flower growing from a chink in a wall of ice, filling the air with sweetness.”

Jon’s wife, Daenerys Targaryen, was the most beautiful women in the world. Long silver blonde hair and violet eyes like her brother Rhaegar. Daenerys was the very embodiment of house Targaryen, she favoring with the side of the coin that held greatness. Daenerys was strong, fierce, compassionate, and selfless. She had committed her dragons and armies to the war of the dead after rescuing Jon from his foolish attempt at trying to capture a wight to show Cersei Lannister the threat. She had lost one of her children that day, Viseron, named after her madman brother Viserys Targaryen. Jon had nearly lost his life that day after falling into a frozen lake. He will never forget the awe he had when Dany rode her three dragons into the battle against the army of the dead beyond the wall. She had saved all of them that day. When he awoke from his state of unconsciousness to her sitting at his bedside, Jon knew he had found the love he had been craving since he was a boy.

Jon had been in love once before, he thought. Circumstances and deception at play when he met the wilding Ygritte. She had been kissed by fire with a head full of bright red hair. Wild, bold, and fierce she worked her way into Jon’s heart without him knowing it. Jon knowing fully well the deception he was doing for his brothers, as he pretended to deceive the Night’s watch. He broke every vow he had with Ygritte that night in the cave. He only ending up leaving her, while she put three arrows in him. Funny how fate has a way of being cruel to him, as his wilding girl died in his arms with an arrow to the heart. Knowing the love he holds for Dany now, his love for Ygritte was a foolish youthful obsession and lust. He always had a place in his heart for Ygritte, but he had felt he didn’t love her out choice only out of sheer and dire circumstances.

His love for Dany grew out of choice, although the timing couldn’t have been worse. They were first at odds when he came to Dragonstone seeking help for the war against the dead. He furiously demanding her help and alliance, she furiously demanding he bend the knee to her cause. Daenerys was the rightful and last heir to the throne and Targaryen dynasty she thought at the time. The war for the throne still ongoing years after Rhaegar and Lyanna had died. Cersei Lannister the crowned queen of three, not seven, kingdoms Dany would always joke as Dany had alliances with Highgarden, Dorne, and the Iron Islands. Jon had grown to respect and admire Dany after he saw what kind of leader she would be. Still unwilling to bend the knee to, she let him mine the precious dragonglass under Dragonstone.

Jon, unaware of his blood at the time, even had the courage to pet one of her dragons. Dany teases him that he accepted them as his children that day even though he didn’t know it. Jon only truly realized his love for Dany when she sat at his beside and pledged herself to his cause while asking for nothing in return. He eventually bent the knee, although Dany never took the Northern title from him after the war ended. Jon’s love for Dany ran more deeply than even he could process. She had been afraid at first to accept his love and show her love in return. They were at war, and there was no time for such things. Selfless they were always putting their duty and their people before their own desires. Dany ending her war with Cersei Lannister to fight with the dead, Jon nearly giving his life fighting the Night king beyond the wall.

The difference between his love for Dany, and his father’s love for his mother was that his father was selfish. Rhaegar didn’t think of the consequences of running off with his mother. Blinded by pure love his father started a war that killed him and his mother. Lyanna no better herself as she left her family and brothers behind. He didn’t blame them for their selfishness, if he had the choice to do the same with Dany he may would have in different circumstances. Jon didn’t have that choice as Ned Stark had fashioned him for duty and honor. The War for the dead loomed upon them when they met, and the Night King wouldn’t wait.

Although Jon was different from his father in many ways, he was somewhat the same. He held a fierce, true love for Dany bound by an unwitting, stubborn honor for his pride and morals, and sometimes it made him think unrationally. When the war for the dead had ended, and Dany and Cersei battled with what armies they had left, Jon found out his true lineage from Bran and Sam. He was shocked to say the least. His whole life seemingly a lie now. Jon was no Targaryen. Dany had been thrilled when she had found out. “Blood of my blood.” she said to him as tears of joy streamed down her face. Jon wasn’t having much joy. He and Dany were related by blood. Dany being his father’s sister. Jon was at a standstill, Dany was the love of his life but his upbringing had taught him incest to be immorally wrong. His Stark values getting the best of him, he told Dany it better to not be together.

Furious and heartbroken, Dany took off on Drogon to go burn King’s Landing and take what was rightfully hers. The dragon blood of the Targaryen running through her veins, Dany was venomous towards Jon. How could something they could do nothing about tear them apart? He was a coward, just like his father. Rhaegar abandoning his house to run off with Lyanna Stark and starting a war, and Jon being the stubbon Stark he was ending any hope she had for a future with him and a house with a red door. So different father and son, yet so the same. Dany was no fool. She would never be like Lyanna Stark and foolishly hope for love and run away from her path. Dany would forget about Jon, and take what was rightfully hers. How had she strayed for so long from her goal? The war of the dead being a rightful purpose, but now that she had defeated the Night King with fire and blood why had she waited so long? Just like her brother, blinded by foolish love. Jon had torn down her walls and she felt as if she could finally be the girl she was again. She loved him like she had loved no other. How could he abandon her after all they had been through? Dany cried as Drogon flew towards the mad queen’s keep. Dany hadn’t wanted the throne after the war was over. She would defeat Cersei of course, but she had wanted to marry Jon and live in Winterfell. How desire can make people do such foolish things. Rhaegar was killed for it. Lyanna as well. Dany would not be.

It took Dany two days to burn King’s landing to the ground. Drogon spewing fire on the city below. Luckily most of the residents fleeing south to Dorne during the war of the dead. Jamie Lannister eventually slaying the mad queen with his own hands. King’s Landing lie in ash. Dany had become the queen she had never wanted to be. The queen of ashes. Most of her armies gone, Daenerys stood in the rubble of the Red Keep with her hand Tyrion at her side. What would Rhaegar think of her now? He always the valiant fighter and noble prince. He would never use dragons to burn the world.

Too enthralled in her fury when leaving Winterfell, Dany had forgotten Rhaegal was behind in Winterfell. Choosing to stay with his rider Jon. Dany seethed at the thought of one of her children staying behind. As much as Dany wanted to hate Jon with all her veins, she couldn’t. He was only doing what he thought was right. How could she blame him for choosing honor over love? His honor one of the qualities she loved him most for. Dany thought of Lyanna Stark. Dany may be more like the wolf princess than she thought. Jon had taken greatly after her. Daenerys had hopelessly followed Jon until the ends of the earth when the Night King arrived. Long forgotten her duty to the crown. Lady Lyanna had followed her brother to ends of the earth, not thinking of the consequences. Hadn’t Dany done the same? Risked her life for the one she loved. She had nearly lost it when following Jon by herself when he charged at the Night King. Only to be protected by an injured Drogon’s fire when a walker almost toppled her over into the frozen ice lake. Tears streamed down her face as she stared at the ash of the Red Keep. She didn’t want the crown anymore, all she wanted was him.

It took Jon two days to realize how stupid he had been. He always chose honor and duty over love. This time it had cost him the one thing he only ever chose for himself. Truth be told, Jon didn’t care about the blood relation. He had never known Dany growing up, and they got together without even knowing of the relation. He loved her, and he had broken her because of his own foolish pride. As little as he thought of his father, they did have one thing in common. A desire to be with the one they loved. His father risking everything to be with Lyanna. What had Jon risked for Dany? She had given him everything to defeat the night king. She had given him her word, her body, and her heart. She never strayed from her promises. Jon broke her trust at the first sign of misfortune. Jon raced to his dragon, named after his father, Rhaegal and flew for King’s Landing.

It took him a day’s ride to get there. Plumes of smoke rising from the city. Rhaegal sensed where his mother and brother dragon were. It didn’t take the dragon long to land on the ground right by them. He saw her there staring at the burned down Red Keep with her back to him. The Imp noticing him first with a hard stare. He made his way over to his queen. He knew she could sense him behind her and she tensed.

She looked at him with heartbreak and sadness behind her violet eyes. What had he done?

Dany felt his presence when Drogon screamed for his brother. Had he come to mock her for rushing off furiously to defeat Cersei? No that wasn’t Jon. He had come to say goodbye. Tears sprang in her eyes. This was it. She would accept his decision because she loved him. Even if he didn’t want to be with her, she would still respect his choice. She still needed to clean up the mess from the wars and she needed his help to unite the people.

To her surprise, Jon had tears in his eyes when she looked at him. They just stared at each other and she began to understand. He hadn’t come here to say goodbye, he had come back for her. They had always said their emotions through their eyes. He had grabbed her and pulled her into a tight embrace and whispered deep apologies to her and told her how much he loved her. Dany melted in his arms. She told him that the world needed them to help make it a better place. She couldn’t do it alone, she needed him to help her. Together. They flew on dragon back to Winterfell the same night.

Like time repeating itself Jon and Daenerys got married in the moonlight under the godswood, just as Rhaegar and Lyanna married under a beautiful tree in the forest in Dorne. Jon wore grey and white armor with the stark direwolf on the crest. Dany wore a dress of black and red with flowing braids in her silver hair, and she carried a bouquet of blue winter roses.

Dany and Jon later ascended their claim to the throne to Tyrion Lannister as Warden of the Seven Kingdoms. A democracy with each Kingdom choosing their own leader. Jon had named his sister Sansa head of the North, and Gendry Baratheon warden of Storm’s end. Daenerys gave the Iron Islands to their rightful owner Yara Greyjoy, Highgarden to Bronn (he had always wanted a castle), and Casterly rock to Jaime Lannister. Tyrion diplomatically bringing peace and diplomacy for years to come.

Spring had finally come for Westeros, the wars coming to end. Peace and prosperity raining until their deaths. The love that had started the wars long forgotten in song. The love that ended the wars sung to all the children in the land.

Rumors were told of the great love story of the dragon queen and the wolf prince. Some say they ended up traveling to Essos and disappearing from the world, and some say they ruled secretly with Tyrion Lannister the whole time. Only the people who were there knew the truth.

Lyanna Targaryen told her children the tale of two star crossed lovers who ran away together and married in a forest. Their love had started a war for decades.

Lyanna Targaryen also told her children a tale of two star crossed lovers who raised her in a house with a red door and lemon tree growing outside in small village outside of Winterfell. Their love had ended that war.

RFA+SV soulmate AUs

In a universe where everyone has a soul mate, but there are multiple ways of finding them.  There are simpler, more common ways, like a red thread, or a tattoo of their name, and then there are more difficult ones.

If anyone cares, I stole most of these from THIS PERSON.  …I love soulmate AUs.  I might write some of these out properly…maybe.

If anyone piggybacks off of these, let me know?  I wanna read it!

Rated M because of Zen.  Thanks, Zen.  You’re too sexy, Zen.  Stop it, Zen.  You ruin everything, Zen.

Also, spoilers if you haven’t played their routes.

Keep reading

Paperhat Month Day 1: How They met/First impressions

The Inventor


The door slammed behind Dr. Flug Slys after he was shoved out of it unceremoniously. Next to him, his recently created experiment, Dementia, was huffing and snarling with rage.

“How dare she  throw you out like that!” she growled. “I’m gonna tear out her throat! I’M GONNA RIP HER LIMB FROM LIMB! I’M GONNA-”

“Dementia…. Please calm down…” The lizard girl turned to see her creator curled up on the steps with his knees tucked to his chest. The defeated slump of his shoulders caused her to pause in her rant and kneel my his side.

“Master are you-”

“Please, call me Flug, Dementia. I created you but I don’t own you. You’re your own person…”

“Fine! Flug, why are you not angry too! Whats going on?” The scientist curled into himself even more and  stared forlornly at the cement.

“The Mistress is right, Dem, I’m useless and incompetent! I’ve been kicked out of 3 different villains lairs because I can’t give them what they want with my inventions!”

“You created me through? Doesn’t that mean you’re pretty smart?” Flug stopped his brooding to stare at the lizard like girl he had brought to life less that 6 hours ago. He thought of all the calculations he had had to perfect, and all the risks he had taken in the formula possibly not being right, or the machine he had used malfunctioning. He watched as Dementia’s chest rose and feel with breath, and how she blinked every few seconds to re-wet her eyes.

“I-I guess so…” Dementia bared her sharp teeth in a crooked grin.

“I may have been only born today, but it seems like you’re problem isn’t that you’re a failure, but rather that no one appreciates you’re genius if you don’t do exactly what they tell you to do like a little robot. You’re not a robot through. And from what I understand, The Mistress only kicked you out cause you created me instead of creating a disintegration gun, right?”


“But I’m so much better, aren’t I?” At this, Dementia stood suddenly and then swung around to slam her fist into one of the wooden pillars holding up the awning. There was a sickening CRACK, and the awning began to creak as the pillar splintered. Hefting Flug over her shoulder, she then lashed out with a quick roundhouse kick and the pillar was snapped in half.

Dementia was cackling madly as she ran Flug away from the collapsing porch. As Flug watched The Mistress yell at them from a far up window, he felt a new emotion flooding his veins to replace his despair. When the lizard girl set the scientist down, she found that his bag was pulled up just enough for her to see the deadly smirk twisting his lips.

“You’re right, Dementia.” he stated. “I think it’s time I show these villains just how smart I am.”

“Dementia hand me the pliers!”

“Got ‘em!”

“The broken fuse box?”

“Here yah go!”

“Carbon monoxide canister?”

“Hehe, this is gonna be fun right?”

“If you hand me that timer its sure is.”

“Should I grab the camera?”

“Well how else are we gonna show the world what were capable of?”

Flug stood outside of The Mistresses manor with a smug smile on his face. As Dementia clambered out an upper level window and crawled down the siding, he squeezed the microphone he held in his hand tighter. The lizard girl sprinted to his side, and then manned the camera set up facing the manor. When she gave the scientist a thumbs up he began to speak.

“Hello fellow Villains! Dr. Flug Slys here to bring you a very important announcement! As I speak, the mansion of the one and only Mistress is being flooded with the poisonous and flammable gas Carbon Monoxide! Now you may be asking why this happening because if I am a villain, and she is one too, why would I do this too her?” Flug let the question hang heavy in the air for a few moments.

“I’m sending a message; to all those that have kicked me out onto the streets for not being a ‘good enough inventor.’” The sarcasm dripping from Flug’s voice could’ve caused chemical burns. “I’d just like to say to those villains that it’s not my fault they kicked out, but rather, their inability to see that I have more potential than what they believed me to have simply because I appeared anxious and fearful of everything they said and did.” as he said this, alarms began to blare in the manor, and a cacophony of screaming erupted. Flug lifted his paper bag just enough that anyone watching could see the vile grin splitting his face.

“Well I’m going to show you just how much potential I have. Then he flipped the top of the microphone off to reveal a small red button underneath. There was a soft ‘beep’ and then greens, reds, and purples filled the air as the manor exploded from the inside out. Caught up in his own adrenaline rush, the doctor let out a crazed laugh, and doubled over with it. Dementia joined in while refocusing the camera to view both the evil scientist, and the crumbling mansion.

“To everyone who ever doubted me, this is for you!” Flug shouted. “I’m coming for all of you!”

Blackhat sat at his computer with a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. The video series of an inventor methodically destroying other villains was pulled up in front of him, and he had watched every one of them.

The man, Dr. Flug, had impressed the eldritch with his level of creativity and inventiveness. So when he heard the doorbell from downstairs, he stood up and rushed out to answer it. Before opening the door, Blackhat composed himself by taking a breath and straightening his tie. Then he opened the door to find his guest waiting on the other side.

“Dr. Flug! Come in, please!” Blackhat announced. The bright haired girl that followed the doctor was unexpected, but the eldritch let her pass figuring she was some sort of helper for the scientist. “Please, follow me to the dining room.”

Over dinner, Blackhat talked about the possiblity og a business deal, and the idea of hiring Flug on as an inventor so business could start. Flug had mentioned his uncertainty about being forced to create, but when Blackhat had assured him that what he invented would be entirely up to him the man had warmed up to the idea.

“I think I could work with you Mister Blackhat,” Flug stated confidently. The eldritch extended a hand towards the man in invitation.

“If you agree to this, then you can start right away, and you can take any of the guest rooms you want.”

“Sounds good to me.” Then Flug took the hand proffered and shook it hard. There was a horrible screeching noise that echoed around the room, and Flug found he couldn’t let go of Blackhat’s hand. Then the eldritch leaned forward with a evil grin and whispered in the doctors ear,

“I hope you know this is forever.” Then he pulled away. Flug stood frozen for a moment, fear rooting him to the spot. But as his panic overtook him Flug felt the need to run, and so he blurted out,

“I’m gonna go find a room!” and then he was gone. Blackhat chuckled to himself and was about to leave when a hand punched against his chest violently. The lizard girl from earlier was standing in front of him, a fire burning in her eyes. Blackhat was about to brush her off when she grabbed the lapels of his suit coat and dragged him down to her level.

“Let me make one thing clear, Blackhat,” she hissed between clenched teeth. “You hurt one hair on my friends head and I will tear you limb from limb before you can even say sorry.”

“Trust me, I’d rather avoid hurting such a valuable asset!” Blackhat growled back.

“Congrats then, I’ll spare you unless you change your mind.” Then Dementia let go and stalked out the room to go and find her friend. As Blackhat brushed the wrinkles out of his clothes, he found himself thinking,

Well the doctor is quite brilliant, and the lizard girl is extremely protective of him… This is going to be an odd partnership, but one I think will come to benefit both of us, and be quite profitable.

Rhys’ sister Rhyanna Headcannons

This might be really stupid

1. She was born after the war, hence was much younger than Rhys

2. She was gorgeous (duh…), quirky and sassy as fuck. She had violet eyes and night blue hair just like Rhys.

3. Rhys’ mom put the boys on baby sitting duties all the time.

4. Which resulted in her getting really really close with all three of them

5. Rhys loved her like crazy, He fell in love the moment he saw her for the first time.

6. Cassian was her favourite playmate . Both of them used to wreck havoc around velaris all the time leaving Rhys’ exasperated.

7. She used to go on flying trips with Rhys all around Velaris during nights

8. Azriel probably loved her the most. When he held her in his arms for the first time he said “so this is what innocence looks like”

9. She was the little sister Mor never had. She was her partner and her secret keeper. She was the only one Mor trusted with her personal details.

10. They were besties . They together used to find new and creative ways to spend money on clothes and jewels.

11. Being the daughter of a seamstress she like her brother was an excellent designer and Mor’s trademark revealing gowns were her designs, because in her opinion “The Morrigan is a force that is not supposed to be contained”

12. She loved her adoptive brothers just as much as her real one. She bossed them around and used to be secretly terrified when they went on life threatening missions.

13. She cried all night the day she found out the details about Cassian and Azriel’s early childhood and made Rhys promise that Azriel’s brothers will be punished.

14. She almost marched to the Hewn city to punch Keir in the face and hated the Autumn court with a passion the day her mother told her Mor’s story.

15. She was secretly terrified of being sold to the highest bidder as a heir making machine just like Mor, but the high lord promised that he would never let that happened to her.

16. Rhys’ father the high lord was a cruel and terrifying male but to Rhyanna even he was soft as cotton

17. She wanted to learn to fight and idolized Mor for being a warrior but all her pleas were rejected. He father told her “Fighting is not for her because he will always keep her safe”. Her brothers taught her a few moves but she was never trained as a proper warrior.

18. She was not scared of Amren, not at all. infact she was the only one who flat out asked Amren about her history. Amren too was secretly fond of her and gave her frequent history lessons .

19. She was an artist. She loved to dance and sing and paint. She practically lived at the Rainbow of Velaris.

20. Being the youngest member of inner circle she was a little spoiled. She used to swagger around Velaris with her three elder brothers.

21. She was not subtle about bragging to other females about how she has three most beautiful and powerful males in the history of Prythian on her beck and call.

22. she was trapped in their other camp house when the high lord of spring court attacked along with his sons, she fought with all her might.

23. Even though she was young and her magic was still growing and she had no physical training she put up a very good fight.

24. She managed to break the nose of one of Tamlin’s brothers and struck a good blow to the high lord himself

25. She tried to shield her mother with her wings but high lord of the spring court was stronger.

26. He offered to spare her life if she gave Rhys’ location but she spat in his face.

27. When one of Tamlin’s brothers slit her throat, with her last breathe she told him to remember her eyes because soon he is going to see his death in the eyes identical to hers.

28. She didn’t let them touch her wings while she was alive.

29. The high lord of night court was furious beyond words. It was at this moment he realised that his power, his reputation his wealth all was worth nothing. He knew going in the revenge mission that it won’t end well but he was consumed with rage.

30. Rhys was devastated… He vowed to destroy everything and everyone Tamlin held dear. He blamed himself for everything. He was inconsolable.

31. He killed Tamlin’s asshole brothers in one blow in his rage. They begged him to spare their life upon her name but Rhys had no mercy left in him.

32. It was Rhyanna’s memories being tainted with blood that made Rhys stop. He realised that his beautiful sister who is never coming back would prefer to have a symphony in her memory rather than a bloodbath.

33. Cassian and Azriel were away on different missions and they found out a little later. They were both beside themselves in sorrow

34. Everything went silent in Cassian’s head and Azriel’s shadow engulfed him in an eternal darkness.

35. Mor kept thinking about how this felt exactly like a note being nailed to her abdomen, only this time it was her heart.

36. They wanted revenge, they wanted to wipe the spring court off the map of Prythian but on seeing how traumatized Rhys was with all the bloodshed and slaughter they decided to spare that cursed court.

37. Rhyanna is the reason why Cassian is always offering everyone chances to train. He wants everyone to be able to defend themselves,especially the ladies in the family. His dream team of an all girls aerial fighting legion is an homage to her.

38. There isn’t a day when Rhys doesn’t miss her. He had symphonies dedicated to her. He had an art center built for young girls in Rhyanna’s memory.

39. When Mor went to the spring court manor to retrieve Feyre her powers practically erupted with anger because this was the house where her cousin’s mate was being held captive by the male who condemned her baby cousin, her best friend to death. She actually wanted them to try and stop her so that he could burn that damn place down to ashes for both Feyre and Rhyanna.

40. Azriel secretly feels he failed her and prefers not to talk about it but he has vowed that he will be the first to slaughter anyone who would dare hurt his family again.

41. Rhys misses her even more after Feyre became a part of his life. He knows that Feyre would have loved her and it breaks his heart that Feyre will never get to meet his baby sister and his offsprings will never know the aunt who would have loved them to the moon and back.

Roses Are Red, Violets Are Blue

Request from Anon: If you’re not too swamped with requests, would you mind doing a Draco X muggleborn reader where the reader is hella well versed in modern day memes and she makes a reference and Draco is like what and he finally becomes so fascinated by what she’s saying that he stops harassing her and asks her about it? Yikes that was long lol. But it would make my day if you did <3

Lmao I found this difficult because I’m so not up to date with memes so I just based this on the (memes? Idek if they are lmao) that I know :) But I did it because you said it’d make your day :)

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bellamylover100  asked:

What do you think about valientned's theory that Sansa invented the Unkiss to explain the situation in her recollections, versus the prevailing SanSan theory that she invented it because she wanted it (later)? One puts stock in the Unkiss as proof of Sansa's fear, and the other as proof of her desire or love. Not that those are mutually exclusive. +They both make sense and have evidence. IMO, the fact that Sansa makes it up after she starts having erotic dreams indicates desire for him, not fear

**Edit** I do follow valientned’s tumblr and I enjoy their posts.  I was not aware of their position on the unkiss or read anything about it from them personally, so I’m taking your word for it.  But I will answer from the position that some people have about the unkiss being about processing trauma or fear.***

It’s sooooo not about fear or trauma.  Just, no.  That makes no sense and here’s why.

I think to understand the unkiss, we have to look at it first in a literary way and why the Blackwater scene was written the way it was. What is GRRM (not Sansa) trying to say to the reader with not just the unkiss, but everything connected to it?  He obviously can’t write a literal romance between them in the early books for so many horrifically unconscionable and logic-defying reasons.  George is really following a literary tradition using sexual and romantic symbolism to speak directly to the reader without the characters being aware.  It’s a classic Gothic literature theme of exploring sexual desire that is fraught with fear for it being taboo or somehow non-prescribed by society.  Or in Sansa’s case, that it is not the ideal.  (See the Bear and the Maiden Fair).   

The Blackwater scene itself is not actually sexual, though it is terrifying, to say the least.  It is however very sexually and romantically symbolic in its wording.  The dagger as a phallic symbol, the “wetness that was not blood,” the blood-stained cloak evocative of loss of virginity, etc.  BTW, we were already pre-exposed to Sandor holding a blade against Sansa’s neck and she was not scared (kind of unimpressed actually).  Swords and daggers are dicks and they are everywhere.    

What we’re really talking about here at the Blackwater is metaphoric wife-stealing and it’s important to understand what wife-stealing actually is.  It’s a ritual among Free Folk to demonstrate to the woman a man’s prowess and worth to be considered as a suitor.  They value traits of being brave, clever, and quick.  Ygritte has no fear or trauma from Jon unwittingly stealing her at knife point because she is interpreting the events through her cultural lens.  She enthusiastically accepts “his suit” because he passed the test.  It is not an assault on the woman or an actual kidnapping.  The man might get the shit beat out of him, but the woman is never supposed to be hurt.  In the end, the woman has the final say if she will have him, as Tormund’s daughter Munda did with Longspear Ryk after he stole her.  This custom is set apart from the already existing sexual freedom for both sexes to hook up.  Wife-stealing is a public declaration of a serious romantic relationship.  It’s a marriage proposal.  Sandor fails the wife-stealing test metaphorically at the Blackwater.  He’s drunk, scared, barely holding on mentally and he is refused.   

So GRRM has given us extensive literary set-up to place the Blackwater in a symbolically romantic context.  Why?  So he can make the unkiss just about Sansa processing fear and trauma?  That makes no sense.  Now that we have the proper literary context, we can look at Sansa’s progression of thought toward the unkiss logically.   

This is before the first incarnation of the unkiss:  

1)  It’s implied she’s already forgiven Sandor after he leaves her room wrapping herself in his cloak.  She was cold, but she was already in her own bed.  She has cloaks of her own.  That does not speak of fear and trauma after the fact to seek out his cloak and remain under it for some time.  It speaks of subconscious emotional attachment.  

2)  Still so hint that she was traumatized.  This passage takes place approximately one month later according to the ASOIAF timeline.    

I wish the Hound were here. The night of the battle, Sandor Clegane had come to her chambers to take her from the city, but Sansa had refused. Sometimes she lay awake at night, wondering if she’d been wise. She had his stained white cloak hidden in a cedar chest beneath her summer silks. She could not say why she’d kept it. The Hound had turned craven, she heard it said; at the height of the battle, he got so drunk the Imp had to take his men. But Sansa understood. She knew the secret of his burned face. It was only the fire he feared. That night, the wildfire had set the river itself ablaze, and filled the very air with green flame. Even in the castle, Sansa had been afraid. Outside … she could scarcely imagine it.                 

 She wishes the Hound were there for his advice.  She’s has spent more than one night considering the events of the Blackwater, so she’s already processed it.  She secretly kept his cloak with her future wardrobe, though she can’t give a reason she is consciously aware of.  She understands why things happened the way they did from a non-emotionally charged place and with critical thinking.  The only fear she emphasizes is the fear of the wildfire, both inside and outside the castle.  By “wondering if she’d been wise” (that slight pause over her choice but without overwhelming regret) says she might have chosen differently if he had approached her the right way.

Now we get to the first incarnation of the unkiss.  Compared to what actually happened, let’s look at what’s stayed the same, what’s changed or added, what’s been removed:

Sansa wondered what Megga would think about kissing the Hound, as she had. He’d come to her the night of the battle stinking of wine and blood. He kissed me and threatened to kill me, and made me sing him a song.

He did not not come to her.  He was already in the room.  It’s been changed so he’s coming through the door where she can see him instead of startling her in the dark.  The first thing she says is that she kissed him.  The whole tone of the passage is matter-of-fact.  Not emotionally charged either positively or negatively.  No mention of the knife at her throat.  Then he kisses her.  Then he threatens her and makes her sing him a song.  So the kiss comes before any threat and is tied to the song instead.  The kiss didn’t come under duress, the song did.   

We know from Sansa’s fantasies of Loras Tyrell, she imagines herself being an actor, not just acted upon.  All while the Bear and the Maiden Fair is sang LOUDLY in the background (pointing to the subconscious) by Butterbumps just to drive the point home it’s the bear that satisfied the maiden.  Loras is still very much her conscious ideal at this point.  It’s the type that she is supposed to be with.  He’s what the songs are made of and she wants her life to be just like a song.  Sandor doesn’t fit in that superficial equation at all.  That’s the struggle.  The unkiss is not about coming to terms with trauma.  It’s coming to terms that deep down her erotic desires are the stuff of Gothic literature.  She’s not scared of Sandor, she’s scared of what wanting him says about her.  Miss dutiful, oh so proper lady that she is.  Ha!  

Her first erotic dream that replaces Tyrion with the Hound in the marriage bed is definitely not a nightmare at the end.  It comes the night of Lysa and Petyr’s very loud bedding after their marriage and after Lothor Brune (who she initially mistakes for Sandor) saved Sansa from Marillion’s unwanted advances.  So if the dream is coming after she’s being reminded of sex by the wedding night and Sandor is replacing and protecting her from the unwanted, doesn’t that make his presence wanted? Desired?  The context in how we interpret these things is key.

Finally, let’s get to the second and last (so far) incarnation of the unkiss:

Before she could summon the servants, however, Sweetrobin threw his skinny arms around her and kissed her. It was a little boy’s kiss, and clumsy. Everything Robert Arryn did was clumsy.  If I close my eyes I can pretend he is the Knight of Flowers. Ser Loras had given Sansa Stark a red rose once, but he had never kissed her … and no Tyrell would ever kiss Alayne Stone. Pretty as she was, she had been born on the wrong side of the blanket.

As the boy’s lips touched her own she found herself thinking of another kiss. She could still remember how it felt, when his cruel mouth pressed down on her own. He had come to Sansa in the darkness as green fire filled the sky. He took a song and a kiss, and left me nothing but a bloody cloak.

It made no matter. That day was done, and so was Sansa.  

Once again, we must look at the context of what sparked this final version: Robert’s clumsy kiss.  Clumsy and cruel are now tied together.  Although Sansa has no desire to reciprocate Robert’s crush, she does want to be kissed again.  Her first inclination is to pretend he’s Loras, but that doesn’t work. She’s accepted the reality that courtship among the noble class is first and foremost about pedigree and politics.  The rose given was an empty gesture.  She can’t make him the focus of her desires any longer while accepting the truth.  Then her thoughts pivot to her “memory” of the unkiss. 

This version is far more poetic in tone than the first.  The wildfire outside is now turned into a vivid backdrop to the scene, not a horrific apocalypse.  There’s no knife, no threat, no vomit, no wine, no startling her in the dark, no fear.  She’s removed all unwanted elements and kept only the intensity of the moment.  Remember that Sansa wants to be an actor, not just acted upon.  As far as she knows the unkiss is her first real, mature, and erotic kiss.  And it was impulsively done (clumsy) under circumstances where she wasn’t prepared to meet it like an equal participant.  And he left!  The cruelty is making her desire him and leaving her nothing but a bloody cloak.  While the addition of the cloak is factual, it speaks to what she was given, what she was left withwas ultimately unsatisfying though she kept it all the same.  “That day is done,” there’s no going back.  He upended her usual fantasies and rocked her world view.  No other erotic fantasy will measure up now and it’s over before it can be satisfied.  We know from the preceding passage about Loras that her conscious desires now hinge upon accepting the truth.  This isn’t fear or trauma, it’s disappointment.  Like “I kissed the Hound and all I got was this lousy t-shirt.”  She’s consciously accepted her desire and must put it behind her immediately because he’s gone.

But not to worry because literarily speaking, GRRM has set us up for a do-over and she’s due to see him again really soon. ;)                

Robb Stark - Lady Wolf (Part 3)

Originally posted by phoenixbarrow

Series Summary: The young wolf and the King in the North, Robb Stark has been away from Winterfell for quite some time. However, his mind kept wandering back to the castle and to his brothers and to one very special lady. The girl they called his lady wolf. He wonders if they will ever be reunited. One day, his prayers are answered and he is reunited with his lady wolf.

Part Summary: You and Robb tell your family about your pregnancy. Months later, your child is born.

Pairing: Robb x Fem!Reader

Characters: Fem!Reader, Robb Stark, Grey Wind, Sansa Stark, Arya Stark, Bran Stark, Rickon Stark, Jon Snow, Catelyn Stark, Maester Luwin. Ned Stark, Summer, Shaggydog, Ghost (Briefly mentioned)

A/N: A huge thank you to the amazing @mo320 for being my beta!

Lady Wolf Master List

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The Chris Evans Mini Series (One Shots)

Imagine Chris reading a bedtime story to your children. 

A/N: I had been planning to write this for a while now, but haven’t gotten around to it. Then I saw that Chris was going to tell bedtime stories?! That just made me sit down and write this, it’s just- ughhh whhhhhyyyyy? 

*Word count: 2,484 🙊 I think I can just safely say that all these mini series one shots are going to be that long ‘cause I can’t help myself. They are just such a good couple to write about, give me that life already. 

The nightly routine in the Evans’ household started at approximately 4:30PM. The kids would hang out in the backyard, or watch TV in the living room, while you and Chris prepared dinner. That was really the only time in the day where the two of you could catch up without any interruptions because your kids knew Mama and Daddy needed to focus when working with sharp knives and hot stoves. Bedtime was another, but that time was tried to use for something else. Those moments were becoming rarer and rarer as you both suffered from exhaustion on a daily basis; being in the Hollywood Industry as well as the parents of two excitable children with exploding personalities took a toll. You and Chris both agreed you were lucky to have the other for support otherwise there was no way you’d manage. 

After dinner came the clean-up; you and Chris always made the children help so they knew they weren’t entitled even though their parents were rich and famous. Then it was bath-time, and that was a lot more work than it should’ve been. Both Jack and Lola would run up and down the halls in their underwear, making you and Chris chase them. It was always fun, until it wasn’t. Chris would have to catch both of them and carry them into the bathroom, and you’d have to lock the bathroom door behind him so your little bugs couldn’t escape. You’d then leave Chris to handle bath-time while you went down to your study to get some form of work done, be it plotting out an idea or replying to some emails. It was incredibly busy around your house and you could only squeeze work in-between nap-time, playtime, bath-time, and bedtime; all the times, basically. You were a parent about ninety percent of the time now, a hundred if your husband had to leave the state to film a movie. You wanted to complain, but you couldn’t; you loved being a mom and you loved your adorably annoying, but also perfectly perfect kids. 

“Oh God,” you heard Chris enter your study and you swiveled your chair towards him. He was drying himself up with a towel, just like every other night; the kids could never keep the water in the tub or to themselves. “If I wanted to get this wet, I’d go ride Splash Mountain.“ 

"Don’t act like you don’t love it,” you laughed as you saved your documents and powered down your laptop. Chris coming down meant that it was time to tuck your children in; the two of you liked doing it together if you could. “Uh uh,” you stopped him when you saw him through your laptop reflection, lowering himself down on the leather couch behind your desk. “You’re going to ruin the leather.” He chuckled softly, holding up his hands in surrender as he made his way back to you. “I’m done anyway, we can go tuck the kids in.”

“Alright,” he took your hand when you got to your feet. “Let’s go fuck this shit up.” He said and you laughed, pressing a kiss on his cheek; he smiled in response as he led you out of the study and towards the staircase which was on the other side of the house. “What are we going to read them tonight?” You shrugged as your mind scanned through the titles you bought for your children’s bookshelves. “They’re still fairly excited, so I think we’re going to need either a long one or three short ones." 

"I blame you for their excitable personality.”

“And I blame you for their night owl personality.”

You both laughed and Chris squeezed your hand, smiling. “Can the quality of a night owl be a part of a personality?” You quizzed and Chris nodded. “Well- I’m sorry I like staying up late, it’s the only time I can think properly. It’s also the only time I can anything done around the house, considering I have three kids running wild in the day." 

"Dodger?” He quizzed. 

“Chris Evans,” you corrected.

“Ha ha,” he bit sarcastically and you laughed; he tried not to do the same by biting back his smile. “You knew before you married me that I’m like Peter Pan, I’m never going to grow up.” You nodded, chuckling. “And you yet still married me,” he teased you.

“Yeah, well- you have your moments,” you teased him back and he laughed, pulling his hand out of yours to wrap his arm around you. “Chris!” You laughed, trying to shove his damp self away from you; he only tightened his grip. “Great,” you chuckled, “now I’m wet too.”

“Sounds like we’re in for an interesting night then,” he whispered into your ear suggestively and you giggled, slapping your hand on his cheek ever so gently. “I’m going to go change into something drier so I don’t wet their beds,” he told you when you got the top of the staircase; you nodded. He released you and headed for your shared master, whereas you walked to your kids’ shared bedroom; you found Jack, Lola, and Dodger waiting patiently for your presences.

“Mama,” Lola pounced on your leg the second you entered the room; she hugged you tightly and you smiled, resting a hand on the top of her head. “We sprayed Daddy with water at bath-time,” she looked up at you, grinning cheekily.

“I saw,” you laughed and scooped her into your arms when she released your leg. You looked over at Jack who was browsing through his side of the bookshelf so he could find a book for you guys to read to them. “Bud,” you called and he turned to you as you sat down on the edge of Lola’s bed. “Did you find something?”

“Not yet,” he shook his head. “I don’t know, Mama. We’ve read all of these books already, I want something new.” He gave up looking and walked over to you, taking the knee that his little sister wasn’t on. You hugged him tightly and rested your head on the top of his blow dried hair, before turning to Lola to kiss hers. “Why can’t you read your writing to us?”

“I could, but I don’t think you’d understand a lot of it. It’s elaborate and it’s for adults to really think and reflect on their lives and issues that society possess,” you explained and they both huffed even though they didn’t understand what you told them. “And my love stories are a little too…” You couldn’t find the word; it wasn’t like it was Fifty Shades, but it didn’t have that childish nature Disney love stories carried. They were simply too young to comprehend any of it, perhaps when they reached double digits.

“There’s one love story we could tell them,” Chris interrupted from the doorway; he’d been standing there a while, just smiling at how perfect his family was. He entered the room and sat down on the floor next to Dodger, patting his bud’s head before finishing his sentence. “About an actor and how met the most beautiful writer.”

“Oh yay!” Lola hopped off your lap and jumped into her dad’s instead, resting her small head against his chest as he wrapped his big arms around her. He smiled at you as he kissed her head, eyes asking if telling your love story was a good idea.

“Is that the story of how you and Daddy met?” Jack asked you and you nodded, smiling at your husband. “We’ve never heard that story before, have we?” He quizzed and you shook your head. “So can we hear it?" He looked between you and Chris; both of you nodded at the same time. "Yes!” You lifted him up as you sat on the floor opposite Chris; Jack cuddled you, resting his head against your chest like his sister did with his dad.

“Take it away, Captain,” you told him with a smile and he looked genuinely surprised you wanted him to start. “I write and tell enough stories at work, I think I can let you do that at home.” You winked and he chuckled softly, nodding in agreement.

“Are my little pumpkins comfy?” Chris asked, but got no response.

You both look at Jack then Lola; you tickled your son for his confirmation, and Chris tickled your daughter for hers. It wasn’t until they both nodded, giggling, that Chris began telling the story of how the two of you meet. While you knew exactly how the two of you met, and have spoken about your first meeting with him numerous times before- it was going to be nice to hear what he was going to tell your children.

“Once upon a time, there was a very handsome actor.” Chris began, smiling when he saw you stifle your chuckle. “His name was Christopher Robert Evans and he had just gotten the role of Captain America.” Jack and Lola grinned excitedly, hearing their dad’s name and his comic book character. “He was starting on a path of great success and he should’ve been happy, but he wasn’t.” He did one of his half smiles and you pouted, making him chuckle. “He was thirty years old and he was still alone. He wanted someone to go home to, someone to love and love him in return, and someone to start a family with. He searched and searched, but he couldn’t find anyone. Until one day, at a Starbucks coffee shop-”

“You found Mama!” Both Jack and Lola squealed excitedly, making you and Chris laugh.

“Yes, I found Mama,” Chris nodded, sharing a smile with you; both were filled with so much love and adoration, your hearts ached. “I saw the most beautiful girl sitting by the window. She was eating red Gummi Bears and furiously scribbling away on a paper coaster. She had a bright red scarf on and her pretty hair was down, she had no makeup on but she was breathtaking. Absolutely breathtaking,” he emphasized for you and you blushed.

“Did you talk to her, Daddy?” Lola asked, looking up at Chris with wide eyes. You and Chris both chuckled at her innocent question, unaware that if he didn’t- they wouldn’t have been born. “Did you talk to Mama?” She repeated when her dad didn’t answer her question immediately.

“Hush, bug,” Chris chuckled, playfully covering her small mouth with his big hand. “We’re going to get to that, you just need to be quiet so I can tell the story. Can you do that for me?” Lola nodded, noising confirmation against Chris’ hand. “Okay,” he dropped his hand and patted her belly, “I did talk to her, I just didn’t talk to her right away. I was so mesmerized by her that I spent the first ten minutes just admiring her from afar, which was a dumb move on my part because Mama was in such a rush that she left before I could talk to her." 

"Oh no!” Your children gasped. 

“But it’s okay,” Chris quickly said before they could attack him with questions. “Like Cinderella, Mama left something behind. She was in such a rush that she didn’t notice she dropped the coaster she was writing her brilliant ideas on, but I did and I picked it up.” Jack and Lola clapped, cheering for their heroic dad. “I had no idea if I would see Mama again, I just knew I had to keep it so I could find her and return it to her." 

"Where did you find her?” Jack asked the question this time. 

“Well, bud.” Chris smiled at you as he continued, “I found her at Luna’s Bistro, a few doors down. It turned out that we were fated to be together, so I didn’t have to look very far. She was meeting Uncle Kevin for lunch, and Uncle Rob and I were going to that same lunch.” Your children gasped again, making you and Chris chuckle. “I gasped too when I saw her and her bright red scarf, I couldn’t believe my luck. I went over, returned her coaster, started talking to her and-” He met your gaze again and you tried not to start crying when you saw his eyes glisten, “we haven’t stopped talking since." 

"Yay!” Your children clapped then hugged the respective parents they were sitting with. 

You and Chris both hugged your children back, smiling at each other. “I love you,” you both mouthed simultaneously and chuckled softly. You could both tell your children still weren’t mentally ready for bed yet, but physically they were done for the day. They were yawning fairly consistently, but trying to hide it because they didn’t want their parents to leave them yet. So the two of you sat with them in your arms, quietly singing the Winnie The Pooh theme song as you gently rocked them to sleep. It didn’t take long, before you could finish the song- they were fast asleep. You and Chris carefully got to your feet and tucked them into their beds; you kissed Jack’s forehead while Chris kissed Lola’s, then swapped to kiss your other child. You both stood in the doorway and watched them for a moment before turning off the lights and closing the door behind you. 

“That was super cute,” you told Chris as you wrapped an arm around his waist; he smiled and wrapped his arm around you, kissing the side of your head. “Do you think we could pitch our love story to Disney or Pixar?" 

 "Oh, definitely,” he nodded. “But I think I’d rather keep our love story between us. It’s too magical and special to share, I wouldn’t want anyone stealing it and claiming credit.” You chuckled, but nodded in agreement. “Isn’t that why you haven’t done anything with the novel you wrote, about our entire life story?" 

"Kind of,” you shrugged. “I don’t know, I didn’t write with an intention to do anything with it. I wrote it because I liked reliving everything we’ve been through together as a couple. It also made me miss you less when you were away, which you said works for you too while I’m away.” He chuckled and nodded. “That and- I’d like our kids to have a copy to read when they’re older, so they know they should wait till they find someone special before they settle down." 

 "That’s so sweet, baby.” He pulled away from you so he could move in front of you and take your face in his hands. “Honestly- I don’t know how I got so fucking lucky,” you chuckled and wrapped your hands around his wrists. “You are just the best and I love you so much.” “I love you too,” you smiled as he drew you in for a kiss. 

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Hi Baby » Oli White

Request: Anonymous said Hey I just want to say your imagines are great!! Could you possibly do one were you were dating oli for about 2 years and you found out you were pregnant and you left him without any mention of the baby because you didn’t want to ruin his career and you meet again in a club and you then go onto introducing him to his child.

I changed it a little x

You had been friends with the YouTuber Oliver White, or Oli as he was better known as since you were teenagers. You had met when he moved to your school when he was in Year 9 and you were in the year below him and after four years of being as thick as thieves, he asked you out. You said yes, albeit being 17 and never having a boyfriend before.

Keep reading

In Defense of Elia Martell

I am writing this in response to a post “In Defense of Rhaegar Targaryen” by @crazyopinionatedwriterchick 

I am making it a separate post because it is rather long and I wanted to be able to tag it.

Before I say anything I just have to say there is a method of viewing to make Rhaegar seem less monstrous, and I will talk about that in the end of this post, but you definitely did not go that way.

There is a lot that is problematic in this post, I find it both misogynistic and racist, so lets take it step by step here. Your quotes will be in bold. 

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Originally posted by itsagentromanoff


@mr-robot-x requested:  Hey! Can you make an Stranger Things x Bucky one-shot? With a 13 years old reader (she have the powers of Eleven)? Please :)

Warnings: not-there-but-it’s-there Stucky. Reader is 13, guys, c’mon.

Words: 1117.

A/N: Is that what you wanted, dear? Requests are open.


She knew she was different. She knew she wasn’t normal. She knew normal people couldn’t do what she could. She knew normal people couldn’t break glass or throw large objects with only the will of their minds. Normal people couldn’t move things with their minds. Normal people couldn’t affect the bones and bodily functions of other normal people.

Normal people couldn’t, but she could. Because she was different.


Bucky, Wanda and Sam were at one of the Compound’s dozens of living rooms when FRIDAY’s voice took over their conversation.

“Captain Rogers asks the presence of the three of you in the meeting room right now.”

None of them hesitated and quickly rose from their sits and went to the meeting room.

When they got there however, it wasn’t for any of the reasons they were expecting. There was no enemy, no fights for food and no destroyed glass. There was a child sitting on the couch, looking intently at each and every one of them with. She couldn’t be more than 13 years old, but her eyes scanned as if she had been born decades ago.

Steve heard them stop in the doorway and came to them, pushing them back and out of the room. The three of them stumbled backwards into the hallway. Tony and Natasha followed.

“Who is she?” Sam asked.

“We found her in the woods,” Natasha answered. “She was alone and running, saying she had to get away from…”

“From who? From what?”

“She didn’t say. We don’t know,” she crossed her arms and looked intently at Bucky. “All we know is that she is not public known and that she has powers.”

“Powers?” Bucky’s eyes narrowed.

“She can move things with her mind,” Tony said. “Like Carrie, but she hasn’t locked us all in a room and killed us. So I’d say maybe Matilda, but she hasn’t cooked us any meal yet, so I’m settling for Jean Grey.”

Bucky shook his head at Tony, clearly not understanding one thing, and turned back to Natasha.

“Move things?” Sam asked.


“Like me?” Wanda carefully asked.

“Not quite.”

“She doesn’t have a red cloud following her hands or whatever she’s moving,” Tony tells them, lazily imitating Wanda’s hands when she’s using her powers.

“The question is: what do we do?” Steve asked. “We can’t send her back alone out there but she also won’t talk.”

“At all?”

“Apart from saying she has to run from something? No.”

“She doesn’t trust us, which is understandable even if potentially problematic,” Steve nodded.

Not a word was said as they all looked at each other.


It took her a couple of days to talk, but she eventually did.

The child stayed at the Compound, in a room near Steve and Bucky, had meals with everyone else, even if never a word from her/his mouth.

Until it did: words were spoken.


It was a mumbled word while no one was expecting, but every single pair of eyes were suddenly focused on the child.

“What is different, sweety?” Bruce asked, kneeling in front of her. She was once again on the couch.

He/She took a couple of minutes to answer and when it happened, he/she was looking at Bucky.

“I am.”

She was indeed. But that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, Bucky wanted to tell her/him, but decided to keep quiet in fear of scaring the child.

“Well, good thing in being a freaky, kiddo: we all are!” Tony exclaimed, a smile on his lips as he looked around and opened his arms as if pointing at everyone at the same time.

The child didn’t spare him a glance. Her/his eyes were entirely focused on Bucky.

Steve nudged him gently. Bucky looked at Steve, who nodded at the child with his chin.

Bucky panicked for a quick second. How was he supposed to talk to a child? Why him? Why was she/he looking at him?

Steve’s warm hand settled on his hip and his thumb stroked lovely at the shirt-covered skin. His eyes were calm and reassuring, everything Bucky needed.

So he slowly walked to the child and kneeled by Bruce’s side.

It seemed like everyone was expecting him to say something, so he did – after taking a deep breath and releasing it in long seconds.

“Different, you said?” Bucky prompted quietly and the child nodded solemnly, eyes still focused on him. “Well, that’s not bad. It’s actually pretty good. You see, otherwise, you’re just one more on the crowd. Stevie there,” Bucky pointed at Steve who stood a couple meters away from them. Steve nodded, “Wouldn’t have been chosen to save the world if he were another one in the crowd. He was different too and he saved the world. Tony,” Bucky pointed at the billionaire, who grinned and pointed at himself with his thumbs, “Wouldn’t have changed his entire company and created a bunch of cool stuff if he were normal. Bruce,” Bucky bumped shoulders with the scientist, “Discovered a thousand things because he is a scientist, and you’ve gotta be different and awesome to be a scientist.”

Bruce was happy that Bucky didn’t make the Other Guy the thing that made him different.

“A spider knew Peter was different and bit him to be even more different,” Peter laughed at this and Tony imitated claws to try and bite Peter. He looked more like a bear than a spider, but there was no gain in pointing that out.

“Thor,” the god smiled broadly and waved, “Is a god from another planet. Vision was created from technology. Sam was personally chosen to join the team by Steve because he was different. Wanda,” who smiled shyly at the child, “Was so special that she was chosen even before she could know what for.”

There was really no way of putting it that what happened to Wanda was nice or even pleasant, but that was good enough for her and she smiled at Bucky.

“Clint wouldn’t be here alive if he were normal; don’t underestimate his capacity of staying alive.” Which earned a sneaker from the man. “Natasha and I,” the woman flashed a quick smile, “Would still be with the bad guys if we were normal.”

The child looked at the floor before saying.

“But if I was normal, they wouldn’t be after me.”

“And who are they?”

“Don’t know.”

“Then we’ll figure it out. We can protect you, okay?”

The child turned the eyes at him once again.


“Really,” Bucky promised as everyone else nodded.

The child looked around, taking in everyone that surrounded her/him and a smile spread across his/her cheeks.

When the child turned back to Bucky, she/he said, “I’m [Y/n].”


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