The Lady Margaery 🌹

favorite thing in asoiaf is that the stark family tree is just filled with haters in every generation. theon stark brandon snow alaric stark cregan stark even ned's brother brandon and lyanna too. even the current kids jon snow robb sansa and arya all have some kendrick lamar level of beef w at least one person. brandon the builder spawned an entire genre of haters

𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐓𝐲𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝑜𝑓 𝐻𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑔𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑒𝑛

𝑴𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒐: "Growing Strong". 𝑺𝒊𝒈𝒊𝒍: Is a golden rose on a green field. 𝑻𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒕𝒔: Members of the family tend to have curly brown hair and brown eyes.

Lords Paramount of the Mander and the liege lords of the Reach. House Tyrell is a large, wealthy house, its wealth is only surpassed among the Great Houses by House Lannister. The Tyrells control much of the agriculture in the Reach, making them influential players in the politics of Westeros.

Unlike most other Great Houses, the Tyrells never ruled as kings. Instead, they trace their line of descent through the female line to the legendary Garth the Gardener, the mythical first King of the Reach reigning in the Age of Heroes, and the son of the equally mythic Garth Greenhand.

After the fall of House Gardener, the Tyrells rose to prominence by supporting Aegon I Targaryen. In return for their loyalty, they were granted the title of Wardens of the South and became one of the most powerful houses in Westeros.

During the reign of King Jaehaerys I Targaryen, the Tyrells hosted the famed Tourney of the Field of Roses.

As the Dance of the Dragons began, Lord Lyonel Tyrell was an infant, and his regent mother was judged likely to align the Reach with the House's "overmighty" bannermen, the Hightowers, and the greens.

However, House Tyrell decided to take no part in the war. The Tyrell bannermen, on the other hand, were split during the war, with men of the Reach fighting on both sides. Later Ser Ulf White attempted to claim Highgarden for himself, as House Tyrell had taken no part in the Dance and he believed they should be considered traitors.

During Robert's Rebellion, House Tyrell stayed loyal to King Aerys II Targaryen. Lord Mace Tyrell's forces achieved victory against Lord Robert Baratheon at the Battle of Ashford.

And here’s Arya and her little lip chew

[comm for @lucennia] from their fic: thread noose

ft. the hero of falconreach and df's favorite babydoll <3

The night was black and starless, Gem’s only guide a small oil lantern as she stalked through the empty stone halls of Edelia’s residential wing. Truly, she was growing sick of seeking him out.

Sleep had evaded her, slipping from her grasp like a vengeful lover, cruelly indifferent to her desperate tossing and turning. Her sheets had tangled about her limbs as she chased the elusive salvation of slumber, and coming away empty-handed at the end of each dragging hour had nearly brought her to a scream. Several, in fact.

We shouldn’t have. You leave tomorrow. Your mission—it comes first.

The words swirled in Gem’s mind on an endless, unbearable loop. It was driving her to madness. She had to do something.

And yet, staring upon his door now, a sudden doubt took hold of her. The hour was late, well past midnight. Surely he would be asleep. Not to mention, gods be damned, these were his private quarters. But the thought clung to her like a shadow, impossible to shake. If not now, then when?

She knocked softly.

For the longest moment, there was no sound. Gem leaned forward, straining to hear, almost pressing her ear to the wood. Still nothing. Then, with a sudden jolt, the door swung open, and she toppled face forward into a hard chest. Danyel caught her by the shoulders.

“You shouldn’t be here.” The headmaster’s voice was flat and cold as he released his grip on her. It seemed she was not the only one sleep had forsaken. Gem flushed, righting herself with what scraps remained of her dignity—but still holding her ground. His mouth thinned when he saw she wouldn’t be deterred. “What is it, Gem?”

“We need to talk.”

“When I said we’d discuss it later, I didn’t mean today.” The hollows of his eyes were dark, and his mood darker still—nearly as black as the sky outside.

Gem glared. “When else?”

They locked eyes, tension wound tighter than a drawn bowstring. The steel in Danyel’s gaze was freshly edged tonight, daring her to back down, but Gem stood firm. Neither moved, neither blinked. The air itself seemed to crackle, ready to snap at any second. Then, at last, he exhaled—a heavy swooshing breath of vexation and surrender all at once. Without breaking eye contact, he stepped aside, welcoming her in with a mocking sweep of his arm.

The room was sparsely furnished. All that filled the place was a narrow writing desk, a padded couch, and a deep indigo banner stitched with the Edelia insignia in silver thread. A weak fire smoldered in the runestone hearth, reduced to embers, casting the space in a sullen red glare. This was his solar, Gem realized, adjoined to his bedchamber at the far end, shrouded in shadow. She felt her courage waver. Swallowing, she hung her lantern from an iron hook in the wall. Danyel hovered before the lone window on the other side of the room, his arms crossed stiffly against his chest.

“Well? What is it you want to talk about so badly?”

Gem’s nails dug into the soft flesh of her palms. “Earlier. What you said… or didn’t say—you owe me an explanation.”

“Do I? I thought I made myself clear. This… whatever this is, it can’t continue.”

This had to be a joke, and a cruel one at that. “You didn’t make anything clear. You—” Gem sucked in a sharp breath. “You ran.”

“I did no such thing. I was doing the right thing.”

“Right for who? You, or me? Or is this about your precious duty again?” The word tasted of the foulest condemnation on her tongue.

Danyel scoffed. “It’s not so simple.”

“Then explain it to me.”

His jaw was clenched, his face taut. “Forget it,” he muttered at last, turning away from her.

Gem froze. For a heartbeat, it wasn’t Danyel at all. Colors inverted all around her; ash-brown hair washed to white, and gray eyes gleamed golden. Even the red cast of the room melted into Void-purple. A misty wraith, turning his back and slipping like rain through her fingers. Bile surged at the back of her throat. Then she blinked, and it was only the headmaster again, his face averted. 

“No. No. You can’t do this.” Not again. Not like this. Was she always meant to be left behind? Gem could feel hot tears stinging her eyes. “You—you’re just like Tomix.”

Danyel whirled. “I am nothing like Tomix,” he spat. The dying firelight danced across his face, making him look like a wrathful revenant, risen from the ashes. “This is why nothing can happen. You were his.”

She recoiled, her own fury forgotten. “What are you talking about?”

“You heard me." His eyes were haunted, his voice thick with bitter loathing. "He loved you. Perhaps not in the way most would understand, but he did in his own way. I won’t be the replacement for someone you—someone I—lost.”

Something tightened inside Gem's chest. “Is that what you think this is?”

“You’re chasing ghosts, Gem.”

“That’s not true," she whispered. It wasn't, she told herself. It wasn't. "I know he’s gone. He’s been gone. Maybe... maybe it's true I’ll never be free of him entirely, but I’m not chasing him. This has nothing to do with him.”

Danyel raised an eyebrow. “Doesn’t it?” His words were cruel, knowing, wielded like a knife—like he wanted to slice her right open. He had always been good at that. “You’re not thinking about what this means. About what happens after. You never do.”

“I don’t care what happens after!” Gem cried out. “Why can’t I just have something for myself for once? Why does the past matter? Why does the future matter? Is now not enough? Must everything have some secret, veiled meaning behind it? What’s right, what’s wrong, what’s dutiful—I don’t care!" She almost choked on the words, on the sheer force of them. On the selfish, shameful truth of them. "I don't care," she echoed softly, after a pause, "I want this.”

His eyes flickered with something dark. But there was also something else—some thing else, lurking just beneath the liquid gray surface. It writhed like a twisted creature, alive and ravenous, struggling to drag itself from his resolve with its razored claws. Would he let it take him? Danyel remained silent for another moment, staring at her as though measuring her, as if weighing her against some phantom consequence only he could see.

“If you’re so sure,” he murmured, his voice dropping, a challenge on his tongue—it took him—“then come here.”

And so she went to him.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

A secret deleted scene from Storm's Breath. The rest is on AO3. Warning for shameless filth ahead. Locked because... yeah.

Said I was done with this story but I couldn't help myself.

Also name change because an online friend said my childhood username sounded like a discord groomer.

— Maya Angelou, Letter to My Daughter

I wanted to make these portraits of Mercy ( Arya Stark) and Alayne Stone ( Sansa Stark) -which are inspired by Vermeer's " Girl with pearl earing" - because for a lot of time I thought that girl in the painting has something of Sansa Stark and by extension with Arya ..at least in my head😊 I don't know why 🤷‍♀️ 😊

Lady Stoneheart and the Little Night Wolf

Inspired by @agentrouka-blog’s thoughts of Arya and Catelyn potentially reuniting in the books. <3

Fiona Apple photographed by David Corio, 1997

A spread I made a few months ago of every SoulWeaver element. Poison <3