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The Knighting of Jaime Lannister
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Robb Stark has been carrying much responsability from a young age. Ever since his father died, he has been taking care of all his family’s necessities. Is thinking of his duty that his put aside the last trace of his youth and decides to marry. However, remembering the state of his mother after the death of Ned Stark, he’s determined to settle in a loveless match: a wedding with an agreable woman, but not one he desires passionately, will make his obligations much easier to execute. That is, until Jeyne Westerling enters the scene. Neither of them would think she’d be a problem to his plan; she’s not extraordinarily beautiful or has the most docile personality, her house name doesn’t compare to his, nor does her fortunes. And yet, Robb catches himself more and more attracted to her person and by the sparkles that come from all their—bickering—encounters.
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“Dance with me~”
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They were either going to live happily ever after, or kill each other. That’s what everyone said. From their very first date — well, if you could call hooking up in a bathroom stall after one of her red carpets a date. Even their parents were never sure about their relationship, and his father and hers had been as close as brothers growing up.
They hooked up and broke up and got back together and started all over again more times than he can count. Half the time, Robert can’t even remember if she’s pissed at him or if he’s sworn her off again, but it doesn’t matter, because they can’t keep apart. Sure, they make each other miserable when they’re together, but they torture each other when they’re apart. And it’s better than being alone.
It’s not how he pictured it, his life, his future. But the life he’d imagined? That door was long since closed, he’d fucked that up too badly, she made it clear she never wanted to see him again. Cersei, though, no matter what he did, he never seemed to fuck up so bad as to drive Cersei away, and that’s almost the same thing as love, right?
happy birthday @ahornedgod
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Anonymous asked:
Hello! I love your art so much! It is so beautiful and I love your interpretation of all the characters. 💕💕 If you take requests, can you please draw young jaime and catelyn at riverrun? they are my favorite crackship
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protecting you, protecting me
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THEON GREYJOY and JON SNOW meet again at Castle Black.
for @owlsinathens for AWOT, Prompt: BELONG
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elia martell and lyanna stark
"we are only human, and the gods have fashioned us for love. that is our great glory, and our great tragedy."
for @laylamajnun
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we weep belladonna (Sansa/Myrcella Femslash February fic)
Summary: King Joffrey Baratheon survives his wedding, and Sansa Stark remains a bird in a cage. Some years afterward, Princess Myrcella Martell returns from Dorne, and comes bearing a gift that just might bring Sansa's freedom. Excerpt:
Princess Myrcella offered Sansa the first flower, and sunlight blazed off the crystal window like fire.
It was a lovely, striking thing—slender and long, with velvety petals jagged as daggers, darker than the rubies that kissed Myrcella’s golden throat. Its center mirrored ravished flesh, blooming and puckered, like lips. Bloodied lips.
“A Dornish iris,” Myrcella said. The glint in her green eyes was kind, yet sly. “For the red of your hair.”
Red. Red like her Tully hair. Red like the blood that rained from Father when Ice fell, and cut, and lit in the morning sun, and the crowd rejoiced, and Sansa screamed, and screamed, and screamed.
Red like Lannisters.
“It’s beautiful,” Sansa said. The bile burned just beyond her voice. “I am undeserving of such consideration. My princess is so kind to think of me.” The slightest smirk played at Myrcella’s lips—cruel or playful, Sansa could not tell, but she saw that mouth, all the same. Saw those full, pink, bow-shaped lips cage words unsaid. “And my lady aunt is far too humble. You deserve this gift, and more, simply by your presence. Your name. We must never forget our names, nor what we are owed because of them.”
Sansa Stark had not forgotten.
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elaena-archive-deactivated20210
Asha & Arianne for anonymous.
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Appearance of Jesus to Mary Magdalene after resurrection, Alexander Ivanov, 1835
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Anonymous asked:
could you maybe draw more martells 👁 that would cool
Oberyn martell for you with willas tyrell for @afewreelthoughts who asked for them together :>
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22, nedsei 👀👀👀🙏🙏🙏🙏
“Stop making me laugh!”
Cersei wanted to hate the man, needed to hate him, and despite it all, pleasantness oozed off of him in waves.
Of course Robert had called for a childhood friend, the brother of the woman who took his heart, and whom she wasn’t entirely convinced Robert hadn’t developed feelings for in Lyanna’s stead. If she and Jaime could be so alike one another, why couldn’t another family replicate itself over and over again?
Ned Stark smiled at her from where he was seated at Robert’s right hand. He’d seemed embarrassed that Robert should offer him such a seat of honor, had had to be forced into it by the strength of Robert’s voice and firm hands, and the worst part was that he probably was. Cersei knew when a man knew his own charms - every man in King’s Landing showed her every day - and this one didn’t.
It unnerved her.
A few seats down from her sat his daughter - a spindly, obedient little thing that Robert thought good enough for their eldest son. This family was invading her home like a cold wind in summer, and she could not allow it.
“Have you found your chambers to your liking, Lord Stark?” Cersei snapped out before biting into a slice of brown bread.
“I have, thank you, Your Grace,” he said.
“Fine enough for the Warden of the North?”
“Not nearly enough ice, but we’ll manage.”
She smiled through her next bite of bread and felt her cheeks warm.
“You didn’t bring your own?”
“It melted by the time we reached the Riverlands.”
She shook her head. “You need to stop making me laugh, Lord Stark,” she said.
“Why’s that?”
His brown eyes framed by brown hair looked sternly at her. He was the dullest man at the table, now that Stannis had left the castle for good, and he hated her. Robert didn’t always notice her barbs, but when he did, he felt each one and gave it back twice over. This man simply replied when she spoke.
But he hated her, she couldn’t forget.
“I have a reputation for my queenly calm, Lord Stark. I can’t compromise it.”
His eyes narrowed. “I am at your service, Your Grace.”
He did not speak to her for the rest of the night. Cersei found herself looking at him again and again, wishing he’d disobey her.
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Anonymous asked:
More Daensa fan art please?
this is the dream of spring actually 😌
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lyanna stark x elia martell, the happy ever after that they never got.
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Catelyn did not return to her own room after leaving the maester; instead she went to Robb. She found Robin Flint and Ser Wendel Manderly with him, along with the Greatjon and his son, who was still called the Smalljon though he threatened to overtop his father. They were all damp. Another man, still wetter, stood before the fire in a pale pink cloak trimmed with white fur. “Lord Bolton,” she said. “Lady Catelyn,” he replied, his voice faint, “it is a pleasure to look on you again, even in such trying times.”
Anonymous asked:
I just a request if you could maybe write a fem!Robert X Rhaegar where they get married because she has Valeryan blood through her grandma (Rhaelle Baratheon) and he loves Lyanna and it hurts fem!Robert because she's a bit insecure about her appearance (even though she's beautiful) and tries to look better for him and he notices and feels bad for what he did to her and (I kinda hate Lyanna) leaves the selfish Lyanna and goes back to his wife and its all fluffy but angsty?! Love your stories! 😘
Added to our prompt page!