Imagine Robert not being fostered away and Robb would be named Elbert or Denys.......
Or better yet... Stann
Imagine Robb being fosterd with Stannis.
Imagine Robert not being fostered away and Robb would be named Elbert or Denys.......
Or better yet... Stann
Imagine Robb being fosterd with Stannis.
that day is the 14th of feb. this has been a friendly reminder.
Au where robb stark tells his children about their mother
30. “Thanks for marrying me.” for lyabert plss
The bed is cold and empty when she wakes up. It’s not a surprise anymore, Robert’s been out of town for over two weeks now, but still, she hates it. She’s gotten used to sleeping with Robert’s body heat burning up beside her, and his earthshaking snores, and the way he sleeps spread eagle on the mattress like she’s not even there, forcing her to curl up against his side like a cat or else be forced off the bed entirely. This king-sized bed is too big for her alone.
And today it’s worse. He’d called her last night, something had come up at work, he wasn’t going to make it home in time.
“I’m so sorry, babe, I don’t want to miss celebrating this with you. I promise, I’ll make it up when I get back.”
Their first anniversary. Lyanna had said it didn’t matter, it was just a date on the calendar. But now, waking up on the day itself… She hates Jon Arryn for keeping Robert from her. They should be doing all that obnoxious newlywed crap, breakfast in bed and little gifts and a nice dinner out with too much wine and finishing off the evening with a lovely reenactment of their wedding night… Instead, she gets none of that. All Lyanna gets to look forward to is spending the whole day in her sweatpants and maybe a bowl of ice cream with a movie. Any other day, and that would be amazing. But today, she just wants her husband.
With a groan, she lifts herself out of bed. At least being on the couch, she figures, she might not miss him so much, feel his absence so keenly. Except, no, of course she feels it there too, feels it all over their little apartment, because that’s what happens when you share a home with someone. They’re everywhere, every piece of furniture, every corner, every damn crumb on this kitchen counter makes her think of him. Gods, when did I become that girl? She wonders absently. Clingy and desperate. Probably about the same time you became a wife, Lyanna answers herself.
This is where falling in love gets you, alone on your anniversary. Lyanna sighs, tries so very hard not to be bitter, because Robert’s got a great job, he’s doing amazing things, and he makes more than enough money to keep them very comfortable. But is that really worth it, if she hardly gets him to herself? And he hasn’t even called, no texts, nothing, and she’s on the verge of feeling desperately alone, when a knock at the door grabs her attention instead.
“A delivery for Mrs. Baratheon?” A squeaky voiced teen calls out when she answers the door, half buried under a cascade of roses. A giant bouquet, hundreds of blooms. That’s my guy. She signs for it quickly, relieves the poor kid of his burden and sends him on his way. Somehow she manages to wrangle the flowers into the apartment, she’s very nearly drowning in petals, the arrangement fills half their living room, but that’s just how Robert is, and Lya can’t help but smile, even before she reads the card attached.
My incredible wife,
Thanks for marrying me. I still don’t know what I did to deserve you. I know it’s been tough being apart, believe me, but I’ll be home soon to show you how fucking grateful I really am that you chose me. I love you, Lyanna, always and forever.
xoxo Your Robert
A kiss.
When he catches sight of his wife striding purposely towards him, Robert balks, and hastily begins searching his mind for anything he might’ve done to upset her, anything wrong at all, but cannot come up with a reason.
He’s not expecting her to drop a crate at his feet, or for her to hop onto it. So her actions leave him confused. Because he is most definitely not expecting her kiss him. Long and sweet and devastating.
A fucking kiss.
Then Lyanna simply turns and walks away. Leaving him a godsdamned wreck in her wake.
Robberys fluff! Robb shares a moment with Dany, and grapples with his emotions to confess what he has to say.
Please reblog and comment on Ao3! I as much as you can give guys, it’s so hard to continue writing when I don’t receive comments! Please and thank you!
sometimes i think i’ve moved on and then i see a picture of him and realize that i haven’t.... at all
robb stark, i’m so sorry. im so sorry that an ugly ass BITCH like that would kill you off. you deserved to be king
But Sophie Turner’s IRL sister, Priyanka Chopra Jonas, and her on screen brother, Richard Madden, are going to be in a show together
Idk why this is so exciting to me, but it really is
Modern AU where Robb had a magical night 10 years ago before he became a famous musician. She was the girl he wrote all his songs about. Margaery never forgot the boy and his music. The beautiful florist was heartbroken when her father told her he died.
here are some old edits of the ultimate royal couple of Westeros.
Robbaery Gift Exchange Gift for Isdoe aka @nyx4
This one is for Enemies to Lovers. I read it wrong and did a modern au instead of canon divergence. oopsie.
Steakhouse Chef Robb Stark talked disparagingly about the new Vegetarian restaurant next door and unfortunately it was within earshot of the owner and Chef Margaery Tyrell.
Fandom: ASoIaF Ratings: G Pairing: Visenya x Torrhen Words: 1220 Notes: For @moonlightwhisperatnight, who kindly requested it. Sorry it took so long. This fic is based on a pair of fics of mine: A Crown Exchanged, Twins & Names.
Spring in the North was… something. Visenya had been married to Torrhen for a decade now and she was still getting used to the summer snows. Her first summer as Lady of Winterfell, it had surprised her. Torrhen had laughed and said that was simply life in the North, that she wouldn’t be cold inside nor would she ever lack the furs to cover herself should she need them.
Torrhen… he was a pleasant surprise. At first, Visenya did not know what to expect from this man. Torrhen had knelt and accepted not only Aegon, but Rhaenys and herself as his King and Queens, not a single Northen sword gave shape to Aegon’s throne. And Torrhen did not expect her to change, he did not frown upon her wearing chain mail and wielding a sword; he did not say that he’d prefer her in soft silks. He took her as she was, even with her sometimes dark temper. He also did not fear Vhagar. ‘She’s yours,’ he said. ‘I trust your control on your dragon.’