#p: littlefinger sansa
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GAME OF THRONES
2.10, Valar Morghulis
#gameofthronesedit#gotedit#petyrbaelishedit#littlefingeredit#sansastarkedit#game of thrones#petyr baelish#littlefinger#sansa stark#show: got#show: s2#ch: littlefinger#p: littlefinger sansa#*mine
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Riding Out the Storm
So, I previously posted this on AO3 but I went through it and fixed it up quite a bit. Made it more descriptive and what not. Trust me when I say I improved it BIG TIME. I haven't updated it on AO3 yet though. Figured I'd post it in case anyone wanted to check it out. (Sansa is 18 in this one in case anyone has an underage issue.)
I dunno man, I think I made it pretty hot and I usually don't feel that way about my own smut. You tell me.
RATED - E (as in Explicit, not for Everyone)
WORD COUNT - 6385
Sansa has gone to stay with her Aunt Lysa and Uncle Petyr over summer vacation at their beach house. But, instead of fun in the sun, a hurricane hits. Lysa decided to ride out the storm by popping pills and sleeping through it, leaving Petyr and Sansa alone to ride it out their own way. (I literally wrote this during a hurricane.)
"This is so boring, I can't stand it. I’m literally about to lose my mind.”
Petyr looked at his eighteen-year-old niece over the top of his book. She was sitting in the arm chair across from his, squirming in her seat, and checking her phone every five minutes. “If you keep using that phone without charging it you’re gonna get a hell of a lot more bored once the power goes out. Read a book, I have plenty.”
“Who reads anymore?”
“Beg my pardon, you're right, I imagine your generation wouldn't bother to even learn to read if not for texting.” She snarled her nose at him but he didn't mind. Didn't care at all if he offended her delicate sensibilities. “I don't care what you do, just stop complaining.”
Outside the wind was picking up, the rain coming down harder, and they could see it all through the clear plastic shutters that were covering all of the windows. There was a pretty massive hurricane sitting in the Atlantic, on the way straight toward them, the current conditions being brought in from the outer bands. Petyr imagined his wife's niece, Sansa, had never dreamed coming to stay with her aunt for a few weeks would result in their current situation. No, she likely had fantasies of fun in the sun, beach days, and relaxing in the hammock. Her boyfriend had even planned to come visit her for a few days but that wasn't going to happen, at least not until after the storm had passed. All flights in and out had been canceled.
He said nothing as she got up and plugged her phone into the charger, his eyes following her across the room. She was wearing white cotton shorts that barely covered her bottom and a blue spaghetti strap top and he wondered why she wore clothing like that in front of him if she didn't want him looking. And she didn't want him looking, or at least that's what she had told him. What was it that she had said? Pervert. Yeah, that's what she had called him when she noticed him glance at her ass. He hadn't meant for his eyes to linger but her skirt had been so short and she had bent over right in front of him, her ass almost in full view. He was only a man, how could he not look?
“When are Robin and Lysa getting up?” she asked, plopping back down onto the chair.
“No time soon, I imagine. She wants to sleep through it and I don't intend to stop her.” Lysa had taken enough Xanax to sleep through their house blowing away, and Robin, the spoiled mommy’s boy that he was, would stay in bed with her.
“What do you wanna do?”
“I want to keep reading my book.”
“Ugh...come on. Amuse me.”
What a little cunt. As if it were his responsibility to keep her occupied. “What would you have me do, Miss Stark?”
She shrugged, tucking a stray strand of perfect, red hair behind her ear. “I dunno. You wanna play a game or something?”
Petyr sighed, closed his book and placed it on the coffee table in front of them, resigned to the fact that he wouldn't be getting any reading done if Sansa Stark had anything to say about it. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Fine. What sort of game did you have in mind?”
“Um...naked twister?” she laughed, obviously finding herself hilarious. She'd caught him looking at her ass once and now she figured he wanted her and meant to taunt him for it.
It was true, he did want her, but he would not be bested by an eighteen-year-old girl. “I'm sorry, I'm afraid I don't have the game,” he answered, unfazed.
She shook her head, a sardonic smile on her lips. “I was kidding.”
“I'm well aware.”
“Ooook." Her eyes widened as though he were being ridiculous. "So what do you wanna play?”
“You tell me, it was your idea, Sweetling.”
“How about Truth or Dare?”
Truth or Dare. There was a game he hadn't played in years. In truth the only games he played any more were those of the mind. Fuck it. Why not? What could she possibly ask him that would be too revealing? Even so, he was a very good liar. “Fine.”
“Okay.” She got up from the chair and moved to sit on the sofa. “Come sit by me.”
He looked at her, eyes narrowed. “Why?”
“I wanna be able to see your eyes, so I can tell if you're lying or not.”
Petyr fought against laughter that threatened to erupt. Little fool, I'm a master fucking manipulator. But she didn't need to know that, so he moved from his own chair and sat down beside her on the sofa. She pulled her legs up so that her knees were bent and she was facing him. “Is that better?” he asked.
“Sure. Now who should go first?”
He gave a small shrug. “I'll be the guinea pig I suppose, why not?”
“Okay, Truth or Dare?”
“Truth.”
She smiled and shook her head. “Wimp.”
“Why?”
“Truth is the safe way to go.”
“Is it?” He stared into her blue eyes, challenging her to disagree. For he knew that truths could be incredibly dangerous in the wrong hands.
She looked away quickly. “Fine...lemme think.” She fiddled with her necklace for a moment, running the little golden heart back and forth across the chain, before an idea dawned on her and her attention snapped back to his face. “I heard you got into a bad fight with my uncle over my mother when you guys were around my age and he totally kicked your ass. Is it true?”
“It's true,” Petyr admitted but ‘kicked his ass’ wasn't the phrase he'd use to describe it. “He nearly killed me.” She hadn't asked that but he offered the knowledge anyway. Let her hear how brutal her own family can be, let her empathize with me. Whatever it took to get her where he wanted her.
“Yeah...I heard you have a huge scar across your chest. Is that true?”
Petyr grinned and shook his head. “It's your turn now, not mine. Truth or Dare?”
"You suck," she pouted and Petyr couldn't stop his gaze from traveling from her eyes down to her luscious bottom lip. Reflexively he ran his tongue across his own bottom lip and then bit down on it. He was well aware that women found him adorable when he bit his bottom lip. When his eyes returned to hers they were wide and a rosy pink had colored her cheeks and he flashed her a devilish grin. He would use everything in his arsenal, every trick in the book.
She swallowed and looked down at her hands. “Um...truth, I guess.”
“Is it true that you're only dating Joffrey Baratheon because his family is famous and he's the most desired boy in the world?” Petyr asked.
Her chin dropped and her mouth hung open in feigned shock. “No. No, never. Joffrey’s... he's…”
“He's what?” Everyone knew the kid was a prick and he watched her stumble to find something nice to say about him. She couldn't. Sansa was the girl who wanted to date the cutest and most popular boy in school, even if that boy was an asshole. She would imagine he'd fall hopelessly in love with her and change his ways just for her. She was young, naive, and selfish. Unrealistically idealistic. He knew exactly who she was because he had once been the same person, mistaking infatuation for love. “You're a bad liar, Sansa.”
She was about to object when all of the lights went out and they were left in complete darkness. They had been so busy with their little game that neither of them had noticed that the winds outside were howling, the rain beating against the windows. If Petyr had bothered to keep a television on he would have known where the storm was but had decided early on that he wasn't going to get wrapped up into the hysteria. It was coming and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
“Do you think the lights will come back on?” Sansa asked. As if in answer to her question, a gust of wind slammed against the front door and the pressure of it could be felt physically.
“I don't think so. Stay here, I'll go get some candles.”
Petyr left her alone on the sofa, using the light from his cellphone to guide him to the kitchen. He grabbed a few candles from the cabinet above the stove, a flashlight, and a bottle of wine. Fuck it. There was nothing else to do. He found the corkscrew in a drawer and returned to the living room to sit the candles on the coffee table. In this case it was a lucky thing he smoked because it meant he always had a lighter in his pocket. Once they were lit a soft glow enveloped him and Sansa, and he noticed an uneasiness in her eyes as he sat back down beside her.
“Are you ok?” he asked.
“Yeah. The wind...it's so loud. The whistling is kinda creepy.”
How cute, she was frightened of the storm. “I don't mind it but I grew up in a rainy, windy area. I actually find it rather comforting.”
“Really?”
“Mmm.” He popped the cork on the bottle of wine and drank straight from the bottle, passing it to Sansa after.
She reached for it but hesitated. “But...I’m not old enough.”
“Close enough. Don't pretend you’ve never drank before, I'm not stupid and I may look old but I used to be a teenager too. Besides, it might help you relax.” She smiled, a sweet, innocent smile and Petyr felt the corner of his mouth twitch to match. Her fingers brushed his as she took the bottle and that small touch made his skin tingle and burn.
“So...do you wanna finish playing the game?” she asked after a hearty swig.
“Yeah, sure.”
“Okay, it was your turn. Truth or Dare?”
“Dare.” He was suddenly feeling a bit adventurous. What could she possibly dare him to do in their current circumstances anyway?
“I dare you to take off your shirt...and undershirt! If you're wearing one.”
Petyr wasn't sure what to say for a moment. It definitely wasn't the dare he saw coming. “Why?”
“Does it matter why? I dared you to.”
He grabbed the wine bottle from her and took a long draught before sitting it on the table. He wasn't particularly shy, no it wasn't that, he just didn't really want to show her the long scar that ran the length of his torso, from his collar bone to his navel, and he was almost certain that's why she wanted him bare.
“Just remember,” he said as he began to unbutton the top buttons of his shirt. “Paybacks are a bitch.” She raised her eyebrows at him challengingly. Little girl, don't get in over your head. Surely she didn't understand the dangers and implications of undressing a fully grown man. If she did she may have rethought her dare. Too late now, little one. He finished with the buttons of his shirt and shrugged it off, then pulled the white t-shirt he wore under it over his head and watched as her eyes widened in shock.
“Oh my God...I had- I didn't know-”
“It's fine!" He cut her off. Her words sounded a lot like pity and he hadn't the stomach for pity. "It's been healed for many, many years.”
She reached towards him and instinctively he grabbed her wrist before her fingers made contact with the raised pink flesh, causing her to flinch. He hadn't meant to grab her too roughly or hurt her, it was just a reflex. Nevertheless, he held onto her. In truth he very much liked the idea of her tiny fingers roaming his bare chest. “I believe it's your turn.”
Her blue eyes locked onto his in surprise. Has she already forgotten we were playing a game?
“Um...yeah. I pick truth.”
Petyr released his grip on her wrist and she pulled her arm back against her chest. For a moment he just looked at her, noting that all her usual cockiness had seemed to fade after realizing that he could hurt her if he wished to. Sansa was a tall girl, exactly the same height as Petyr, and she sauntered around in front him as though she was untouchable and unattainable, but now she surely realized that though he was not a big man in stature, he was still a man, and he was lean and strong and he could pin her down if he so desired. But Petyr wasn't interested in taking her by force for it would be much more satisfying to make her desire him. To want him. Before the night was over, she would be begging for his cock.
What truth could he ask her to break her down? To put her in her place? A sinful grin spread across his face. Sex. She clearly loved the attention her beautiful, young body got her but if he knew anything about teenagers, it was that they hated being reminded of their sexual inexperience and inferiority. They had the bodies of adults but were still children and tended to get quite defensive when one reminded them of that. “Alright, I have a question for you. Are you still a virgin?”
In the dim light of the candles he could just barely make out the blush spreading across her cheeks. “No! No way, I have a boyfriend.”
Petyr couldn't contain a soft chuckle. “You're lying.”
“No. I'm not. I've done it tons of times.”
“Oh? What's your favorite position?”
She shook her head. “It's not my turn anymore.”
“I wasn't asking a Truth, I was just asking. Do you like it rough or soft and slow?"
Her cheeks flushed crimson, matching her hair. “It's your turn,” she insisted, still avoiding the question.
It didn't matter. He could always tell when people were lying, he had learned to note the signs. Or tells. Lack of eye contact, fidgeting, a twitch of their lips. She was exhibiting all of these. “Fine. Truth.”
Sansa took a deep breath and bit her bottom lip. “Do you...did you...um…”
“Come on, out with it.”
“Do you like looking at me?” she asked, avoiding his gaze. “I've seen you look at me.”
And just like that, a jolt of arousal burned through his stomach and down through his groin. “I recall. And you called me a pervert.”
“I didn't mean it,” she said softly, shaking her head. “Not really. It's just what everyone else says when an old- I mean...older guy looks at a teenage girl.”
“You meant old.”
“No! I didn't... I mean that's what other people say but I don't think you're old.” This was certainly a turn of events. For once, not at all what he was expecting. “If I told my friends they would think it was creepy and gross because you're so much older and you're my uncle but...I kind of like it when you look at me.”
Another jolt of arousal, this time shooting straight to his cock. Such a sweet, delicious little confession. “I'm not your uncle through blood,” he quickly reminded her. She finally looked into his eyes and hers looked so innocent and vulnerable that he physically ached.
“So...you still haven't answered. Do you like to? Ya know...look at me?”
If he said no he would be lying and he couldn't bring himself to lie to her, not about this, not with the fear of rejection written all over her face. Not when the truth could possibly allow him a taste of her supple, young fruit. He softened his tone and spoke barely above a whisper, “Yes, sweetheart, I do. Very much.”
A sweet smile played on her lips, followed by another blush. “It's my turn now.” She was embarrassed and trying to move away from the topic now but Petyr's curiosity was piqued and he was getting her exactly where he wanted her. If she liked him looking at her, what else might she like?
“Truth or Dare?” he asked, his heart racing in anticipation.
“Truth.”
“Do you ever look at me?”
“I'm looking at you right now.”
“You know what I mean, Sweetling.” He was taking a gamble, he knew, just because she enjoyed the attention of him lusting after her did not mean the feeling was mutual but there was only one way to find out. “Do you find me attractive, Sansa?” He was a good looking man, he knew, slender and lean with dark hair greying at his temples, but teenagers were usually attracted to other teenagers.
“Yeah...I guess I do," she admitted, her eyes cast downward, no doubt afraid to look into his.
Her confession sent another jolt through Petyr and his cock was beginning to throb. Every sane part of him screamed to end their little game immediately before he completely sexually frustrated himself but the part of him that didn't care said keep going. “Truth,” he answered before she even had time to ask the question.
She lifted her head, finding the courage to make eye contact. “Have you ever thought about...like...doing things to me?”
Was he imagining it or had she scooted closer to him? There was hardly room to breathe between them, with her knees still bent, her shins just barely grazed his thigh. “Yes.”
“What kinds of things?”
His heart was hammering against his ribs now, his every nerve tingling in anticipation. He wanted to jump on her like a fucking wild animal in heat and just take her but that wouldn't do. He had to tread carefully. Slowly he inhaled a breadth of air, calming himself, and slowly exhaled. “Things you’re too young to hear about.”
“I'm not too young. I think about things too.”
“Oh?" So much for calm. "What kinds of things?” Had she too imagined her legs over his shoulders as he pumped into her? Had she slid her digits through her silken, wet slit and imagined it was his tongue instead?
“You were supposed to answer first, it's your turn.”
Petyr turned his body more, to face hers, and whilst doing so took the opportunity to place his hand on her bare leg. She wiggled a bit but didn't shake him off. Her skin was so very soft and supple and he couldn't stop himself from gently rubbing his fingers over her. “Do you want to know if I've thought about kissing you?” he asked.
Her eyes had snapped to where his hand now rested on her bare skin, fixated. It looked as though she struggled to lift them to meet his own. “Yes... and anything else.”
“You wanna know if I've imagined fucking you?” She nodded, biting that kissable bottom lip of hers. “Yes...and yes.” His hand seemed to have a mind of its own, moving around her leg and up to the inside of her thigh. Her skin was even softer there. His cock, now hard and throbbing, was straining against his pants. “What have you imagined, sweetheart?”
“I- I um…” Her face was flushed and her voice sounded strained as he continued running his fingers along the inside of her thigh.
“Don't be shy.”
“I...imagined kissing you.”
“What else?” His fingers now toyed with the edge of her shorts and he was hyper-aware of every change in her demeanor. Her breathing, while barely audible, was more shallow and quick and her perky tits were rising and falling in rapid succession. The conversation, the sound of his voice mixed with his touch, was turning her on and he was inwardly delighted at this victory.
“I've imagined you touching me.”
“Where, Sweetling?” he asked, his voice a seductive whisper.
“Um…” Her eyelids fluttered and her voice came out as a soft sigh. The evidence of her arousal made his cock ache with longing.
“Truth or Dare, Sansa?”
“Dare,” she whispered and Petyr almost burst with excitement.
“I dare you to let me kiss you.”
Her eyes met his, looking both uncertain and curious. “What about Aunt Lysa?”
“She's taken enough Xanax to knock out a bull. She's not going to wake up.”
“No, I mean...don't you love her?”
He brought his hands to her face then, gently cupping and caressing the line of her jaw. “Not the way I love you.” In truth he didn't love Lysa at all. Did he love Sansa? Perhaps, but more than anything he wanted to taste her and bury himself inside her and he would say whatever he needed to achieve that. “May I kiss you?”
She barely had time to utter consent before Petyr leaned forward and captured her mouth with his own and her immediate sigh was music to his ears. He forced himself to move slowly, even though his body was alight with need, longing to take her fast and hard. Longing for relief. Her lips moved against his innocently, clumsy and inexperienced as they were, but he didn't care. He would teach her, he would mold her to fit him. Carefully, he ran his tongue across the seam of her lips, willing her to open for him. When her lips parted he took his chance and slipped his tongue between them, softly stroking her own.
She was all softness and warmth and tasted of the wine they had just shared. She was delicious and he couldn't contain the moan that escaped him. His fingers traced down the line of her neck and she whimpered into his mouth and her own hands found their way to his bare chest. Petyr was losing all sense of reason as he devoured her, his heart pounded wildly against his chest, and his cock had become an insistent, aching reminder of how badly he wanted her. When her thumb brushed across his nipple he hissed in a breath and broke their kiss, pulling just far away enough to search the deep blue pools of her eyes.
“Uncle Petyr…”
“Yes?”
“I dare you to touch me.”
Oh fuck. “I didn't choose dare, Sweetling.” He was teasing her, of course, he would gladly touch her.
Her hands went to his hips, urging him closer. “Uncle Petyr, please.”
Please was all it took for him to slip his hands under the hem of her shirt. He reclaimed her lips as his deft fingers found the clasp of her bra and had it loose in seconds. She moaned into his mouth when his hands cupped her breasts, a soft cry of ecstasy, and it took every ounce of Petyr's self control to go slowly. All of her little moans and sighs were going straight to his cock. When he found her nipples and began gently tweaking them between his fingers, she arched into him reflexively, her thighs spreading. He took the opportunity to get between them and push her back onto the sofa, pressing himself against her. He could feel the warmth radiating from her core, even through their layers of clothing, and was unable to stop himself from grinding his erection against her, relishing in the friction.
Sansa broke their kiss and looked at him and Petyr felt stunned, as if being awakened from a trance. Her eyes were glazed and the blue even darker than before, although behind them was a tinge of worry. “What's wrong, Sweetling?”
“I lied earlier.” Her voice was a whisper. “About having done it before. I've never….never really done anything.”
He had known. Of course he had known but a part of him was hoping she would try to maintain the lie until the very end, until he was already buried deep inside her and felt how tight she was. What sort of monster would he be now, with it out in the open, to take this little girl's virginity on the sofa as his wife slept upstairs? “I know and we don't have to do anything, we can stop right now,” but even as he said it, he rocked his hips into her and began tracing her jaw with soft kisses, down until he reached that sweet spot just below. A sharp intake of breath from her and a thrust back against him was enough to spur him on.
A monster indeed.
One of his hands left her breasts and snaked down between them where he slowly eased his fingers under the waistband of her shorts and panties. “Mmhmm,” he moaned into her neck as he found her slit already slick with need. “So wet.” When he slipped a finger through her folds she whimpered and her hands went to his chest, her fingers gripped his chest hair tightly and the pull stung but he didn't mind.
He moved his finger up and down her folds slowly, torturously, making sure to circle her little nub rhythmically. Even without direct pressure she was already moaning and wiggling beneath him, her breaths quick and shallow. Fuck, she's so wet. He wanted nothing more than to yank her bottoms off and sink into her balls deep, to take her fast and rough. But waiting was a sweet kind of torture.
“Do you want me to stop, Sansa?” He would, if she insisted, but he was going to persuade her. He was very good at persuasion.
“No. No please, don't.” Her reply was strained, he couldn't believe how responsive she was to the slightest touch from him.
“Does your boyfriend make you feel like this?” he asked, as he began to fully rub her clit, applying real pressure.
She bucked her hips against his hand as a breathy “No” escaped her lips.
He continued to play with her breasts with one hand as his other worked her below and when he finally slipped his finger into her entrance he covered her mouth with his own, swallowing her cry. She was so tight, more than one finger was going to hurt her a little but he was going to try to make it as painless as possible. Perhaps he wasn't a complete monster.
He fucked her with the one finger, making sure the bottom of his palm continuously rubbed on her nub, and she came undone beneath him. Writhing and bucking, one of her hands clawed at his bare side the other tangled in his hair. Petyr was enjoying every minute of it, even though he was sure his cock was about to burst out of his pants. He could almost cum from just watching her lose control.
“Mm...p-p..” she was trying to say something against his mouth. He eased up a bit to allow it. “Please…”
“Please, what?”
“Please...fas-faster.”
He grinned against her lips as he shifted his hand to slide another finger inside. He went slowly at first, stretching her open, getting her used to the feel of something bigger, and she winced but didn't tell him to stop. After a few moments she began moaning again, soft whimpers of pleasure, so he picked up the pace.
“Do you like that?” he whispered into her ear.
“Mmhmm.”
“Do you like the way your Uncle Petyr fucks you?” She bucked wildly against him and he felt her walls beginning to contract. She was close. “Cum for me, Sweetling. Cum for Uncle Petyr.” As if his words alone willed it, and maybe they did, she moaned loudly. Her back arched and her inner walls gripped his fingers, pulling them even deeper as she came around them. Petyr gently nipped at her neck and massaged her breasts as she peaked and then began to come down from her high, praying she wouldn't change her mind now that her initial need was sated.
He decided he wouldn't give her time to. He pushed her shirt and bra up to reveal her naked breasts, beautiful pale mounds ripe for a feast and he dipped his head, taking each nipple into his mouth in turn. Her skin tasted like heaven, sweet and musty and entirely her own; he could have stayed between them forever but he had a more pressing matter at hand. She was already responding again, soft little mews and pants that were driving him mad with lust. He pulled up from her and hooked his fingers under the waistband of her bottoms, stilling for a moment to see if she would object. She didn't. She looked up at him with those innocent blue eyes, waiting, and closed her knees to make it easier for him to get them down.
Without hesitation he pulled them down, tossing them carelessly across the room. Just as quickly he kicked off his shoes and pulled his own pants and boxers off, his cock springing forth, finally free of its constraints. He got back onto the sofa on his knees, placing a hand on each of her own and spreading them back open.
“Jesus…” Her little cunt was so perfect and glistening in the light of the candles from her juices. Just a taste. Petyr watched her face, her cheeks were burning with embarrassment and her eyes darted away from his own. Clearly no one had ever looked at her this way before but she had nothing to be ashamed of. She was perfect. He quickly dipped his head and ran his tongue up the length of her slit, resulting in a surprise gasp from her. He had never tasted anything so delicious in his life. He wanted to devour her for hours, make her exhausted with pleasure until her legs shook and she had to fight for air but he also desperately wanted to be inside her. He settled for a few laps with his tongue and a suckle at her clit before getting up and leaning over her, his cock nestling itself between her folds. Her wet heat caused him to buck against her.
“Ooh,” she whimpered.
“Are you okay?” he asked, bringing his face to her own.
She nodded. “It looks big.”
It? His cock. He hadn't even noticed her looking at it but surely she had, it was likely the only one she had ever seen in person. “Thank you for stroking my ego, Sweetling.”
“Can I...can I get a better look at it? Can I touch it?”
“Oh, absolutely.”
He lifted his body off her so she could look down between them where his member lay snug against her sex. He was rigidly hard and his head an angry red. Would she find it ugly? He watched as her tiny hand reached down and she ran her fingers along his length. “Mmm,” he moaned at the contact.
“Does it feel good?”
“You have no idea.”
“I think I might now,” she replied with a sweet smile. “It's so soft but...so hard.”
"Do you like my cock, baby?" he asked, biting that bottom lip of his again in that adorable way that he did.
She blushed an even deeper shade of crimson and smiled. "Yes."
He hummed proudly. "Hmmm, good girl." Very slowly he began rocking his hips, allowing himself to slide through her slit, and she watched with apt fascination until her head fell back and she whimpered from the friction. Petyr himself felt every nerve alighting in his body and he wasn't even inside her yet. “Are you ready?” he asked.
She could only nod, her breathing heavy and loud, lost to the sensation of his manhood stroking her most sensitive spot.
Petyr inwardly rejoiced as he pressed his chest down against hers and kissed her heartily and hungrily. She met his kiss with equal fervor as he took his cock in hand and aligned himself with her entrance. He gave a slight push and he felt her entire body tense beneath him. “Try to relax, Sweetling. It will hurt less if you do.” He truly had no desire to hurt her and didn't understand how any man could enjoy such a thing. It was far more pleasurable to give pleasure.
She nodded but as he began pushing further in, stretching her all the way out, tears brimmed at the corners of her eyes. She was so tight, her body instinctively pushed back against the foreign intrusion, and Petyr had to give a few deep, hard thrusts to fully stretch her open for him, until he was all the way inside.
His hips stilled for a moment. "Oooh, holy fuck!" He groaned at the sensation of finally being fully sheathed, his cock twitched within her and he knew if he wasn't careful he would cum far more quickly than he wanted to. Fuck she's so fucking tight, fuck! He wouldn't normally have to worry about that sort of thing but she was so fucking tight and the anticipation had been building inside him for far longer than that night.
She was shaking, crying, and he cupped her face gently kissing away the tears. “Relax, the hard part is over now.”
He captured her lips with his own as he began to slowly pull out and push back in, a gentle, rhythmic rocking of his hips. As he did so, he placed one hand on her breast and the other he placed over where their bodies joined and began working at that tender, little nub. His body wanted so much more, his breathing laboured, fighting the natural urge to start pounding into her.
“Fuck...you feel so good, sweetheart.” She whimpered at his words. “So wet...so tight around my cock.”
“Oooh.” Her cheeks were flushed with arousal, her eyes heavy. His words were fueling her desire. The sound of his voice relaxing her muscles and opening her up beneath him.
"That's it, sweetheart, open up." He could feel her walls relaxing around him as he pushed in and out of her, could feel her getting wetter as he worked her clit. “Do you like the way my cock feels, Sweetling?”
“Oh my God," she panted. So responsive to the sound of his voice. "F-fuck...yes.”
He moved his hand from her breast and used it to prop himself up, allowing a new angle, allowing him to go deeper. “Does my voice turn you on?”
“Yes...don't stop.” Her breaths were becoming quicker, her head rolled back against the arm of the sofa, her own hands replaced his and kneaded at her breasts.
Petyr began to pick up the pace with each thrust. “Does my little girl like the way I fuck her?” She grinded against him at his words. “Ooh fuck...that's it. Such a good girl.”
Sweat broke out on his brow as he pumped into her. The sounds of their joining was intoxicating, the gush of her juices every time he thrust back in, the sound of his balls slapping against her ass. He wanted to keep talking to her but he was losing it. “Mmm...fuuuuck...so good.”
Finally she said it. “Faster.”
He wasted no time, his hips responding to her demand immediately and she began bucking up into him, meeting his thrusts. He wanted her to cum again so desperately but he wasn't going to last much longer at the new frantic pace. His body collapsed on top of her and he hooked his arms underneath hers as he continuously moved his hips, deep and hard. “Your pussy feels so good,” he purred, his lips now at her ear. “Cum for me, sweetheart.”
“Oh...oooh, Petyr don't stop.” Her hands went to his head, pulling and yanking his hair but he didn't mind.
“Mmm...oh fuuuck baby I’m gonna cum.”
And he did, he couldn't stop it. Every nerve in his body lit up, his veins sung with pleasure, as he went over the edge, lighting up every limb down to his toes. His vision went white. He tried to pull out, he really did, but as soon as he came, she came too, and her walls gripped him, pulling him back in and milking him for every drop.
“Oooh...oh fuuuuck,” he cried as his cock twitched and jerked inside her.
For a few moments they laid there, their breaths evening out, minds clearing. When Petyr could think clearly again the dread of what had just happened ebbed its way into his mind. “Sansa...I'm so sorry,” he said, his voice muffled against her skin where his head was nestled in the crook of her neck.
“Sorry for what?”
“I meant to pull out.”
“No, Petyr...it's okay. My mom put me on the pill cuz I have really bad periods. It helps.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I promise. There's nothing to worry about.”
Relief spread through his body and he smiled into her neck. Finally he pusehd himself up to where he could look at her and she blushed from the eye contact, biting her bottom lip. “You're beautiful.”
“No I'm not.”
“Stop. You know you are.” She shook her head, looking a bit sad and Petyr was taken aback. For someone who always acted so confident she surely didn't seem so now. “By the time I'm done with you you're going to believe me.”
“You're not done with me?”
“Only if you want me to be.” She smiled and shook her head again, all innocence and vulnerability.
“Well,” he said, moving a strand of hair away from her face and tucking it gingerly behind her ear. “This isn't at all how I expected this evening to go.”
“Me neither.”
For the first time in a while Petyr noticed the wind howling outside. “I completely forgot there was a hurricane going on outside.”
“What hurricane?”
He smiled and pressed a kiss to her lips. Neither of them had moved yet and she didn't seem to mind.
“I think this is definitely the way to ride out a storm,” she giggled against his lips.
“Ride? I can show you how to ride out the storm.”
She laughed and ruffled his hair with her fingers and he was lost.
#petyr baelish#littlefinger#petyr x sansa#p x s#fan fiction#mine#it's smut#i might start doing rewrites to my fics and fixing them fr fr#now that i see how much better i made this one
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#started reading game of thrones because i was like#the problem i had with the show was that though it was interesting I found it a bit hard to get super attached to any of the characters#so i bet reading it will make that easier because it will be more in depth with them all#but TO MY SURPRISE it feels almost exactly the same as watching the show to me??#like i have almost the exact same level of feeling and familiarity toward everybody so far and insight into them as characters etc#and maybe that is somewhat because grr martin was a tv writer because dang if he doesnt write a novel exactly like a tv drama#but im feeling a bit disappointed maybe because i really did want it to feel deeper to me instead of basically the same#idk why but the ones i like best so far still are a bit hard for me to love you know#its more like i mildly enjoy a few of the characters and then tolerate or dislike the rest#i kinda like tyrion and littlefinger and jon and sam and arya#oh weirdly i also kinda like king Robert too idk he just feels more like a real person to me than some of the other guys#if anything i think i actually like some of the main characters less in the books than the show like#catelyn and sansa get on my nerves more in the novel than i remember them doing in the show#so far the character that seems the best cast to me is lord varys lol its like he stepped straight off the page onto the screen#all sickly sweet and sneaky and bald and perfumed#p
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@melrosing 's asoiaf art meme! incredibly nostalgic to complete 10/10 experience
excuse the shittier quality of my drawings i was trying to keep it simple <3
typed out my notes under the cut bc my handwriting is illegible
Introduce yourself as a citizen of PLANETOS - Either a Blackwood or a Bracken (ironic), probably a member of the Dead Ladies Club, married to an old man or a cheater or something. hates life and simmers with internal rage
What do you like best about ASOIAF? the emotions... (and by extension the characters)... i was spoiled for ned's death but still cried for an hour when i read it
Who is your favorite character (dead or alive)? Sansa Stark <3 my fave since her first chapter and im not sorry
Your favorite house? Stark and Baratheon (+ lots of minor houses). Drew young Ned and Robert to represent their houses (included stick figures of them to show robert's stance he is bending tf down to fit into frame)
What's the best scene in the books (in your opinion)? King in the North scene in AGOT! (actually i have no idea but for some reason this was the first scene to come to mind)
A ship you like? CatNed, Loras&Renly, and Daensa (in the fanfic zone bc they havent met yet
Your favorite death (since this is ASOIAF)? Ned's... most iconic death + made me cry the most
Your favorite region of Planetos? the riverlands!
Who is your endgame King or Queen of Westeros? King Bran! Or Dany but bc of the sh*w ending im like p sure Bran is the most likely candidate (i could be wrong but ya idk i support my son either way)
Share a prediction for The Winds of Winter - Sansa will be Littlefinger's downfall (not in a way as bloody as my dramatic rendition tho)
It's over! As a parting gift, resurrect a character of your choice - Renly :) no reason i just think it would be funny (his hat says party prince king if u cant see it i triedddd)
#valyrian scrolls#valyrianscrolls#asoiaf fanart#asoiaf art#a song of ice and fire#asoiaf#so much fun go check out melrosing's template and do it for urself its a great time <3#sansa stark fanart#asoiaf art meme#idk how to tag this. should i list out everything or what#ill do a few#daensa#bran stark#king in the north#awoiaf#renly x loras#catned#eddard stark#ned stark#ok im done thats toooo much already#anyways loved doing this hopefully i can do more casual stuff in the future#drew myself twice to show the bracken vs blackwood colors btw not sure if thats kinda unclear#just realized i drew not a single lannister for this thats kinda weird
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How do you see Sansa’s story unfolding in TWOW? People seem to want to rush it so she can get to Winterfell and kill LF, but she can’t have the Vale’s knights without the consent of the lord of the Eyrie (I don’t know why that’s so overlooked) so SR needs to die so she can marry Harry, but at the same time she’s married to Tyrion and LF is obsessed with her. He brags about taking the Tully girls’ virginity, and I’m sure he won’t be happy with the prospect of Harry having her before he does. And no one can tell me the Vale lords will be fine with SR’s sudden death and have no suspicions. Things won’t be that simple. I’m of the opinion Sansa will only slay LF after she learns what happened to Jeyne. Maybe Arya will return from Braavos with Jeyne? Dunno, but I know Arya will tell Sansa about it. Arya’s mere existence ruins LF’s plans. While there’s a Stark succession crisis going on in the North Arya returns with Robb’s crown and LF’s freaks out and tries to sow intrigues between the sisters. He’s too important an antagonist to be shoved aside that early.
you covered a lot of my thoughts on the subject. most of the fandom is just not engaging with sansa's material beyond a desire to see her as the qitn who never did anything wrong so they cut out the vale shenanigans, not unlike d&d, and imagine her going directly to wf to be fawned as the most perfect lady. for some thats the full extent of their investment in asoiaf lol.
but theres no reason for her to go up up north asap. nobody is checking for her, no weirwood is calling her name, no direwolves howling in her dreams, no magical association, ect. her arc is almost entirely devoid of northern symbolism tbh. she's never even spoken to a northern character on page who wasnt a relative or her bestie. and yet the fandom refuses to even entertain alternative courses for her.
whether or not littlefinger is telling the truth is kind of secondary now that he's revealed his plot to the audience. storytelling convention dictates that it will not come to pass. but i dont think he's being entirely forthcoming anyway. i suspect his plan is actually to frame harry (who seemingly has the most to gain) for sweetrobin's death. thats been his entire M.O. since day one (see jon arryn, see joffrey, see lysa) i agree that theres no way littlefinger intends to marry the object of his obsession to another man too. thats like losing catelyn to brandon/ned all over again. not that he could marry her off even if he wanted because tyrion refuses to die.
i also agree that jeyne p. will play into this. the fact that sansa hasn't heard about "arya stark's" marriage is downright conspicuous at this point. almost everybody (arya included) heard about it in storm. she heard about jon being elected lord commander already too. that was easily brushed off. as was littlefinger's revelation that he intends to kill sweetrobin. i don't think she will be able to brush off arya/jeyne, though. how she finds out remains to be seen, but i do think its likely grrm is withholding this info from sansa for a reason.
littlefinger's got his work cut out for him. he is not accounting for robb's will which names jon a stark and the heir to robb's kingdom, nor for bran, rickon and the real arya stark. this will give sansa a lot to deal with too. for good and ill. her siblings are alive, but she has been removed from the line of succession. that will sting and yeah, arya will obviously intend to give the crown to jon which will create conflict between the sisters.
ultimately, i think a variety of factors will cause sansa to turn on littlefinger. the biggest might be, simply, that he corrupted her for nothing. he's a liar and fraud and he hasnt done anything for her. he's tricked her into forgetting that with a promise of wf, but it won't last. she's going along with his plan to murder a child, her own cousin, but it won't give her what she wants in the end. the fantasy will be destroyed. when that realization hits her she will move against him.
#ask#theres not a lot of genuine speculation for sansa out there#most its just like#she will defeat LF in her next chap and then the vale will deliver her to wf where she sits pretty forevermore#like ok damn than im revoking her main character status lol
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Arya is learning to speak in tongues, including High Valyrian. And they're working on her accent so she doesn't give herself away when she talks! George may as well hang up a giant flag saying "She's going to impersonate Missendei, and kill the Dragon Queen, you guys!"
Seriously, there is so much that points to this being the outcome of both Arya and the Dragon Queen's arcs, and almost nothing that points to Jon stabbing her, the way the show depicts it. It's actually funny at this stage.
Anon, are you going to hate me if I don't agree? :P
It's undeniable there are shades of Arya's character in Missandei (Which is why a huge chunk of the fandom believes Missandei is a Faceless Man, lol), and we're meant to pick up on that.
However, I don't think that means Arya will ever wear Missandei's face. Even if Arya isn't responsible for her death, that is crossing a moral boundary that nobody could ever hope to come back from.
I think as a fandom we often tend to forget that severing someone's face and assuming their identity is highly unethical and morally deplorable. That's not how we want Arya to kill Daenerys.
To me, that kill will be much more satisfying if she relies on lessons taught by Syrio and her brothers, rather than resorting to the methods employed by the Faceless Men. It's similar to Sansa and Littlefinger, or Bran and Bloodraven.
In my opinion, Missandei is being employed as a tool for foreshadowing, but won't be directly involved. :)
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Hi charity i found this argument in PDB for little finger from GOT, they type him as ENTP 7w8 and i know you typed him as INTJ 5, so i want to know how i could debunk this:
Eh, it's pretty worthless to argue with people on PDB. :P
I used to think 5, but now am convinced he's an INTJ 3 (assertive, manipulative, calculating, smooth, and ambitious). ENTP is not possible for him, and the reason why is quoted in that video I linked to a few days ago about dominant Ni and his discussion with Sansa. How he says he got a vision of him in the iron throne fixed in his mind, and every decision he makes is to take him closer to that ideal; he asks if it will get him there, or take him farther away from it, and then chooses the path that moves him closer. That is particularly Ni, and most definitely not the scattered, unfocused Ne-dom approach. An ENTP 7 would be particularly easily distracted and unfocused, and that is no no way Littlefinger.
"ENTP 7 is most probable with what we have. The 3 conforms to others. They’re people pleasers. The sp 3 can be an exception but this subtype specifically is 1 like. They’re moral and rigid and disconnected. They also want to be perceived as good and reject vanity. <- no, the sp3 works hard and does whatever they must to achieve their goals; it's all about the goal, success, and ambition. Littlefinger skillfully manipulates situations to get greater and greater power for himself as he 'climbs the ladder of chaos.' He is also arrogant enough to assume that he won't get caught up in events, found out for his role in Ned's death, and executed. 3s are not moral or rigid, that is 1. The "I reject vanity and want to be perceived as good" is super-ego nonsense lain over social 7s by Beatrice Chestnut; it's inaccurate. All 7s, like all 3s, directly go after what they want / feel they are owed.
This is not Littlefinger. Littlefinger is a charlatan who uses his wits and intuition to gain the upper hand against other people and trick them into giving him what he wants. He’s selfish and gluttonous, not satisfied with what he has and seeking more. “ <- yes, he is selfish, but his goals are singular and also driven by an immense amount of actual hard work, as he serves in various financial positions within the government, slowly gaining trust and promoting himself higher (3)
-Fixation: Planning Always planning what to do and what must happen; always disappointed at the outcome. <- 3s also always plan what to do and MUST make it happen; they are all about the goal
-Trap: Idealism He is concerned with manipulating the present so that the future will be perfect and the fulfillment of his ideals. When the future becomes the present, he is disappointed and must begin working again toward his ideal.” <- this never happened; Littlefinger never completely got what he wanted and was still working hard toward it when he was killed, so you can't use it as an argument; he is also a 3w4 whose stupid 4 wing won't let go of the Stark women. He's always envying and trying to grasp what he cannot have, and in some ways, that's the reason he fails, because he can't let go of Sansa in her mother's place. (I am still bitter, can you tell?)
Gluttony makes the 7 excessive and constantly seeking stimulation. This stimulation is in fact, abstract in nature. <- Littlefinger ran a brothel full of whores who gave pleasure to everyone constantly, and yet never was shown indulging in them himself; they were a means to an end, a stepping stone on his way to his goal; he never indulged in them for his own sake, which would be strange for a hedonistic 7
"Passion: Gluttony If a little of something is pleasant, then an unlimited amount should bring unheard-of pleasures, so the Ego Plan feels. This projection of present enjoyment into future ecstasy through more and more of the same is a recurring emotional reaction to the good, though each time it ends in uncomfortable satiation and physical distress.” <- again, why isn't he drinking to excess and sleeping around instead of diligently working toward his goal? Even Tyrion, who is an ENTP 3 with a 7 fix, does all of that almost constantly, but Littlefinger is pretty single-minded (Ni-dom) and somewhat disinterested in physical sensations (Se inferior). All the assertive types love to plan for their futures, btw.
I don’t see how we can see anything different with Littlefinger, who has set up everything on his timeline to gain future profit. On top of that, he is pragmatic, a quick thinker, and flighty" <- a SPECIFIC and DETAILED future that he has pictured completely, as an INTJ. ;)
Tyrion is the ENTP. Compare them. Littlefinger is not only more future-focused with very narrow notions of what he wants, he has none of Tyrion's desire to keep peace with others or do what's best for everyone involved (no Fe). It's all a deliberate plan to get him what he wants. He's way more like all the villainous INTJ 3s than the "villains because I am reckless and overindulgent" ENTP 7s.
#game of thrones#littlefinger#intj#enneagram 3#i am still angry about his fate#he was such a good villain#he deserved better#team aidan gillen lol
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https://zalrb.tumblr.com/post/149521343210/which-one-do-you-prefer-leyton-and-brulian-or
Have you ever thought about reviewing a tv episode (not necessarily OTH) with your mom? I feel like she would have some interesting things to say.
She won't do reviews, the closest I've ever come is retelling her reactions when I rewatched GoT and she watched it for the first time
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#petyr x sansa#game of thrones#creepyship#creepyshipping#petyr baelish#petyr#littlefinger#sansa x littlefinger#littlefinger x sansa#p x s
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I miss you..
Since the day I've met you..
I knew you will be my downfall..
But I couldn't resist..
I tried so hard..
But I failed..
I miss you..
I know you feel same..
You are my everything..
Everything I ever wanted..
But this isn't our world..
We aren't meant to live in that world..
Promise me something..
In another lifetime If we meet again..
You will stay..
I loved you more than anyone Sansa..
It's you..
It's always been you.
#game of thrones#petyr baelish#petyr littlefinger baelish#petyr x sansa#sansa stark#asoiaf#love them#p&s
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Do you think the Purple Wedding was a violation of guest right? If not, what's the difference? My boyfriend's only seen That Show and when I was telling him about guest right, he was wondering about it. I've seen a few people arguing no because the Red Keep as the king's home works differently or that the Tyrells weren't properly considered 'guests', but they seem like weak arguments to me. WDYT?
Important to point out as an initial matter that it's not certain this isn't a breach of guest right, or at least that no one perceives it this way. After all, no one is in a position to accuse the Tyrells of breaching guest right by killing Joffrey, for the simple reason that no one knows the Tyrells did it except for the Tyrells themselves and Littlefinger (and, of course, Sansa). Likewise, as with what I was talking about regarding kinslaying, the nature of guest right as a social construct is that it can be perceived different ways by different people; there is no formal court of law in Westeros to try breaches of guest right.
However, I'm a little dubious of calling it so myself if only for the relationship between the Tyrells and both Joffrey himself and the physical space of the Red Keep. If I'm looking at what you might call the spirit of the law, the idea of guest right is to give both travelers and their hosts a sense of protection as an encouragement for hospitality; the guest can sleep easy knowing that they have a roof over their head and no one will slit their throat in the night, while the host can sleep easy knowing that they can take in a traveler without subjecting themselves to danger from the traveler (and, conversely, that they themselves can have the same hospitality on the road). It's a purposefully limited, purposefully ritualized right: after all, it's not going to encourage hospitality to have an unscrupulous person show up at someone's doorstep, claim guest right automatically, and then stay indefinitely and eat the host out of house and home while bragging that the host can't touch them. Even if guest right is not intended to be quite so strict as Mance Rayder's suggestion of a single night for a single shared meal, there is I think a definite expectation of a guest as a temporary resident, whose right is linked to their (presumably limited) length of stay and where the power is in the hands of the host (either to refuse guest right outright or end it by the presentation of guest gifts).
With the Tyrells, I simply don't see them in the same limited guest position. For one, they had already been at the Red Keep for some time before the Purple Wedding (over two months by the fan-made timeline's calculation). Margaery, one of the main co-conspirators in the assassination plot, was obviously going to be living there permanently, ostensibly with Joffrey, as Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Mace, another major co-conspirator, was also going to be living there permanently as Joffrey's (again, ostensibly) master of ships. Olenna and Garlan, the other two conspirators in my mind, were not staying permanently, but they were the grandmother and brother of the bride respectively, part of the royal family through her, people who would as such presumably always have a place in the Red Keep. These were people who were going to or had the reasonable right to live at the Red Keep full-time and permanently - that is, I think, far more residents than guests by the time of the Purple Wedding. Nor do I see Joffrey as having had the full power of refusal traditional to a host in guest right: the Purple Wedding was far less an invitation from Joffrey to the Tyrells to be his temporary guests than an intended long-term legal binding of himself to Margaery directly and the Tyrells by extension (which he had already agreed to long before the Purple Wedding, given his betrothal to Margaery occurred immediately after the Blackwater). The Tyrells, and specifically at least two of the Tyrells who helped poison Joffrey, were going to be a permanent fixture of Joffrey's court by the very nature of the Purple Wedding; at that point, I don't think you're a guest in a host's home anymore, but a resident in what can arguably be called your own home.
The Tyrells assassinated Joffrey, no question. The Tyrells created and then took advantage of a situation where Joffrey would be drunk and defenseless to poison him, no question. I don't think things are going to go great for the Tyrells, especially those in King's Landing, in the immediate future. But I wouldn't call the assassination a breach of guest right myself, nor blame any future bad turn for them on any breach of guest right.
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All those in favor of fan fic that goes into more detailed descriptions of Petyr's pleasure and making HIM cum and not just getting Sansa off, raise your hand...
🙋🏼♀️
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Joff bloodthirsty angry eyes in agot scared Sansa. She feared the rage in hound eyes. She felt like LF was shredding her clothes through his eyes and felt icky. Illyn P pale eyes felt lifeless and Sansa felt scared. She was horrified by Tyrion eyes showing lust and anger. All these men scared Sansa who can look in their eyes to sense it.
Ah, that is an interesting. I couldn't find Sansa finding goodness in people by looking in their eyes, but then again, she hasn't dealt with many people who have been kind to her. But, she does consistently recognize lust/anger in men's eyes.
LF:
Sansa seated herself beside the queen. Cersei smiled again, but that did not make her feel any less anxious. Varys was wringing his soft hands together, Grand Maester Pycelle kept his sleepy eyes on the papers in front of him, but she could feel Littlefinger staring. Something about the way the small man looked at her made Sansa feel as though she had no clothes on. Goose bumps pimpled her skin. (AGOT, Sansa IV)
which is very similar to Payne's:
She waited for an answer, but none came. As the headsman looked at her, his pale colorless eyes seemed to strip the clothes away from her, and then the skin, leaving her soul naked before him. Still silent, he turned and walked away. (AGOT, Sansa I)
And I find that a clear indication of the kind of monster LF is. She also frequently thinks that LF's smile never reaches his eyes, so this does go to show her awareness of people/what they want/their emotions. I think those references happen later on, so maybe that is meant to show the progression of her skill in reading people.
Here are the lines about the Hound:
His fingers held her jaw as hard as an iron trap. His eyes watched hers. Drunken eyes, sullen with anger. She had to look. (AGOT, Sansa II)
and
She made herself look at that face now, really look. It was only courteous, and a lady must never forget her courtesies. The scars are not the worst part, nor even the way his mouth twitches. It's his eyes. She had never seen eyes so full of anger. "I . . . I should have come to you after," she said haltingly. "To thank you, for . . . for saving me . . . you were so brave." (ACOK, Sansa IV)
And that needs to be associated with Tyrion because although she usually just describes Tyrion's eyes as "mismatched," she does have that dream:
She dreamed of her wedding night too, of Tyrion's eyes devouring her as she undressed. Only then he was bigger than Tyrion had any right to be, and when he climbed into the bed his face was scarred only on one side. "I'll have a song from you," he rasped, and Sansa woke and found the old blind dog beside her once again. (ASOS, Sansa VI)
That's clearly a reference to the Hound attempting to rape her.
I haven't looked into it, but I wonder if part of the mismatched eyes with Tyrion (just as the Hound has distinct "faces") is about how they are each two different people. Both protect her at some point, both show her a form of kindness at some point, both end up betraying her trust. Tyrion stands up to Joffrey to protect her, and yet, he wants to use her body to claim the North (and let's not pretend he doesn't know that after she has a child she has no purpose to his father...), marries her and lusts after her and resents her for not wanting him.
The Hound in spite of saving her once, intends to rape her later.
Actually, linking LF with the executioner makes sense too because he is largely responsible for Ned's death, thereby much of Sansa's suffering even before he gets his hands on her.
So now let us join hands and pray that all the evil fuckers die, amen.
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You’ve talked about Sansa’s future endgame but what do you think of the possibility of Arya ending up in a position of power or as lady of WF even if just temporarily until Bran shows up? Since I’ve seen a lot of leadership qualities in her, she’s expressed her desire to build castles or being part of a council to Ned, her wolf is named after a warrior princess who also started a dynasty and ruled on her own right, said wolf is currently leading a gigantic pack of wolves across the river lands, and “Arya Stark” is technically the de facto lady of WF (it’s obviously more about Jeyne P than Arya, but I think it is significant they’re using Arya’s name as a symbol of rebellion and unity). There’s just too much evidence piled up for me to think Arya couldn’t end in a position of power or that she would be good at it.
I think Arya being in a leadership position in her endgame is all but guaranteed, but not quite in the traditional "lady/queen" sense. Again, I don't think any Stark child except for Bran will be in Winterfell by the end of the series, so Arya, Sansa, and Rickon aren't going to be in charge of the North for their endgame--at least not officially.
Not to say that Arya won't ever have any leadership role in Winterfell. Before the series endgame, I tend to think that rule in Winterfell will be split between Sansa and Arya (and later Bran), since they're likely to reconvene there to resolve things. That gives us-the-readers the opportunity to watch their personal, internal conflict with one another (because, as much as they love each other, there are things they need to work out) play out alongside the external, political pressure from a region that's hungry for action and justice.
(Do I think that conflict will play out in the sloppy, soap-opera-esque style that the show went with, where two sisters consider murdering one another over the basic cartoon-villain plotting from Littlefinger? No.)
By the actual end of the series, I think Arya will be in a position of authority and agency, just like the other Stark kids, though I foresee her in more of an activist role. Reigning as a lady or a queen, at least in the longterm traditional sense, isn't Arya's style. While Sansa has the background and demeanor that suggests she would try to reform the system from within, Arya is more the type to work as an external force, bringing change from without.
That's what I think her time in the Riverlands and Braavos has been leading up to; refining her physical skills, emphasizing her focus on "her pack," showing her the cost of war for the smallfolk, the every-day person. I can't see Arya re-inserting herself into a system of nobility that she already struggled to fit into, especially after everything she's witnessed.
I can't speak to any of the specifics--whether Arya's companions would refer to her as a queen, a lady, or just a leader, or who would she be leading, or where. Personally, I wouldn't be surprised if Arya took a page from Dany's book (and, in a way, the Faceless Men's) and traversed East to participate in the ongoing fight against slavery.
#asoiaf#asoiaf meta#asoiaf speculation#valyrianscrolls#arya stark#sansa stark#bran stark#house stark#ask#anonymous#sorry for the late reply!
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eddard x
3 kingsguard who are supposed to protect the king? are ready to die for jon? i guess he is going to end up being “legitimate” but lyanna/rhaegar being married feels cheap idk
dawn - the coolest sword we never get to see
all this male posturing while lyanna bleeds out
“I have never seen such anger in a girl“ i love her your honor
rhaegar naming it the tower of joy is gag worthy
bobby b is such a useless bum. he did no justice!!!! but a good character tbh
even drugged up and with a shattered leg and his own family at great risk ned still remembers dany
catelyn vii
theres a lack of warmth b/w lysa and brynden bc she really only cares for sweetrobin and petyr. she’s so isolated from her family
a paragraph with the words “poison” “natural death” and “lord robert”
petyr got his ass beat
arya and catelyn watching a trial by combat parallels. the dudes they hate win and get cut loose.
jon v
they got chickpeas on the wall! quick make these dudes some falafel
i really do not find jon all that compelling but he’s already proving he has what it takes to lead the wall and ultimately westeros against the walkers
tyrion vi
the tysha thing is so fucked up.
“I would have killed the man who did that to me." even bronn realizes who the villain is in that story
tyrion promising the vale of the arryn to the clansman hm hm hmmmm feels like unfinished business. it’d be crazy if he returned to the vale while sansa is still there
eddard xi
everybody looks down on edmure but he’s a good egg
all this about the mountain terrorizing these villagers and arya will be among them soon enough
pycelle drop dead challenge
the creation of the brotherhood with banners!!!! a group founded by ned and are currently under lady stoneheart’s command. i just wanna see arya complete the circle by leading them herself to do justice as was their mission. we got a taste of it at the stoney sept but i want more.
sansa iii
littlefinger’s presence is sansa’s storyline is already so significant
sansa is more meanspirited about jeyne p. than arya is
and she called jory ugly for no reason lol
and she blames mycah for his own murder
she is acting just like lysa: vain, mean, hysterical, blinded by infatuation, and disconnected from her family
ned said “say nothing of this” but sansa heard “tell cersei everything”
arya apologizes, tries to make amends, and reaches out to comfort sansa. sansa does nothing but insult her. which wouldnt be a big deal if sansa actually regretted it but grrm gives us nothing
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Bastards and Broken Things
All the moodboards plus the newest and probably final ones. Spoilers included.
Cookies and tears for all those who can guess some outcomes :p
Synopsis: Sansa Stark, under the guise of Alayne Stone, arrives at Highgarden. The home of the lord she was once supposed to marry: Willas Tyrell. As a bastard she has no hopes of ensnaring the future Lord of the Reach. Even as Sansa Stark, daughter of a family whose ancestral seat and claims have been given away, it would have been tough.
But she stays, makes friends, finds love and navigates her way through another war at the start of winter.
Author's pitch: this story tackles a lot of future WoW events like the battle of Oldtown, the battle of ice, the triall of Cersei and Margaery, Jon Snow's assassination, Nymeria's wolfpack, Littlefinger's plan, Lady Stoneheart, the murders of the Freys, and Young Griff arriving in the Stormlands. All those who love fan theories, Westerosi lore and history are welcome even though relationships are the main focus of the story. The story is also full of minor character who get the time to shine like Leonette, Garlan, Olenna, Alerie, Leyton and the Blackfish.
#bastards and broken things#muze#asoiaf fanfic#sansa stark#willas tyrell#sansa x willas#sansa stark x willas tyrell#willas tyrell x sansa stark
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