#ch: arya

[ariamariastark1]

Why do Arya stans focus so much on her appearance?

Well, the truth is that, in one way or another, Arya's appearance is relevant to and essential to her characterisation, the Stark family dynamics and related book plots.

In the family dynamics, Arya is the only 'legitimate' child with the Stark looks, which puts Arya apart from her other full siblings and closer to Jon; her appearance is also an important factor in her relationship with Sansa because Sansa uses her northern looks to bully Arya. It also influences the way that Ned and Cat treat Arya, as we know that Catelyn is deeply insecure about the fact that Robb, Bran and Rickon are southern looking, and because Ned more often than not ends up projecting his guilt and trauma into Arya because of how much she looks like Lyanna.

It's also relevant to the book plot in a few ways: through Lyanna and Jon because we can't understand Lyanna without Arya and we can't correlate Lyanna to Jon without Arya and the biggest connection that the two have is their appearance-- ned claims that Arya acts and looks like her and Bran, when seeing the past, couldn't distinguish the two if it wasn't for the hair length.

Another way that Arya's appearance is relevant to the books is because of the Great Northern Conspiracy more specifically because the only reason why Littlefinger was able to convince people that the girl marrying Ramsey Bolten was Arya despite it being Jane Pool was that Arya Stark (the real one) has a deeply traditional northern look.

And finally, it is because Arya's own insecurity with her appearance is directly impacting Arya's growth and development.

Actually a lot of things that the fandom interprets as related to femininity are about her insecurity and appearance, which is incredibly ironic because, at the same time, the fandom makes things that are about feminity about appearance, like the fact that Arya blends in the common folk something that exists to point out how Arya understands them and how she lives like them but the fandom made it about Arya being ' ugly' (she isn't)

[stormborns]

GAME OF THRONES 2.05, The Ghost of Harrenhal

[outlawarya]

@gameofthronesdaily​ event 01: favorite character

underfoot horseface arry nan salty cat of the canals blind beth mercy no one ARYA STARK

[oceangrief]

Day One: Women.

Sansa Stark + Stark Women.

[levithestripper]

there's something so special about tywin explaining the history of harrenhal to arya. we never get to see tywin take off his mask more than we do in the scenes he shares with her. i like to imagine this was how he acted when his wife was still alive and how he acted toward his children when they were little. tywin's always so put together, it's interesting to see what he's like when he's not on guard 24/7

[dialux]

“Monsters,” breathes Caspar. “That’s right. You are monsters. All of you. Murderers. Traitors.” He turns and spits, and glares at Sansa, and says, venomously, “Kinslayer.” [Joffrey decides to teach Sansa Stark a lesson in gratitude. Sansa learns something else altogether.]

READ THE SIXTH CHAPTER ON AO3!

[inabcck]

@luckhissoul gets a plotted starter.

Arya had heard of the band of the red hand at one point and how they had never lost a fight which got her to thinking about things. While she wanted to be the one that drove her blade through the hearts of the people on her list she could see the appeal of back up. She could also see the appeal of being a member of a band with such a reputation perhaps people would think twice about crossing her. All she needed to do was track them down and convince their leader that she would be an asset to their troop. It wasn't like she was without any skills after all.

It had taken her some time, but eventually the lost daughter of House Stark had found them. It was hard to keep herself steady as she approached the camp trying not to bring too much attention to herself as she looked around. Quiet as a shadow. There wasn't a reason to fear them that she was aware of because if they were cruel to children or even women usually there was a warning about associating with them. Calm as still water. Pausing in front of a tent that she was guessing was the leader of the band she took a breath before poking her head in to speak with them. "Hello? Is anyone here?"

[xradiant]

The night had started to fall when he had closed the door to the inn room he had gotten for the both of them. She was different, entirely from the last that he had seen her. His dreams of her didn't even show him the girl that she was now. There were lives in her eyes that Jon couldn't even imagine. The why of her being here hadn't come up yet and maybe it was because he didn't quite want to know why she was here in The Free Cities. He hadn't even told her why he was either. There was a world and multiple lifetimes between them now. Could he broach them?

He set down a bit of wine in front of her and then reached his hand out to ruffle the strands of her shaggy hair much as he used to. Would she react the same way? "How long as it been since you've been in an inn?" He asked with a small grin as he looked about the neat enough room. He'd paid good coin for it. "I can't remember the last time I slept comfortably." The Wall was hardly comfortable, beyond it even worse. "Now I'm sure you're experienced enough for some wine and maybe some explanations why you're out here. I'm still your big brother, after all." - @inabcck

[wheresmyfuckintea]

"What do we say to the god of death?

Not today."

Arya Stark - A Song of Ice and Fire

[ofhumanvoice-a]

Only. Cat.

[midnightsaboteur]

Tagged by: @writermuses​

Tagging: @spellbindingnights, @utterxdesires, @siiinfully, @douchebagiism, @dark-n-dreary and whoever wants to do it!

top, from left to right:

Can kill you in an instant and will: Ivar Ljungberg (for pay or pleasure, he’s not bothered lol)

Can kill you in an instant if deserved: Max Tudor

Can kill you in an instant but won’t: Walt McAllister

middle, from left to right

Can fairly beat you up and will: Sean Fitzgerald

Can fairly beat you up if deserved: Noah Edwards 

Can fairly beat you up but won’t: Ramon Delgado

bottom, from left to right

Can hug you and will: Camille Montcroix

Can hug you if deserved: Dorian Gatsby

Can hug you but won’t: Arya Redmayne

[inaredflush]

@morhghulis gets #11 from my spotify wrapped (fernando - mamma mia 2 cast recording)

“There was something in the air that night.” Baela admitted, hugging her knees to her chest. She’d always remember the night she lost her mother vividly, and it sent a chill up her spine. Recalling that night to Arya was difficult but it felt like something she needed to do. “The stars were bright.” She told the woman next to her, looking over with a sad expression.

[stormborns]

GAME OF THRONES 1.08, The Pointy End

[outlawarya]

CAN'T SHAKE THE DEVIL LIVING IN MY SHOULDER

YOU FIRST, Paramore

[devilsmenu]

“did you just ask me if i was okay?” ally of wonderland & arya stark

"Yes" Ally replied with a frown at the other question. "Why? I shouldn't be questioning?" she said confused.

[feyhunter78]

Chapter Three - Your father has taken notice of your blossoming interest in a certain dark-haired northerner.

Ch 4

“The boy is looking at you again.” Your father drawls, moving his elephant across the cyvasse board with disinterest.

You take a sip of your wine and hum in response, moving one of your trebuchets forward.

He clicks his tongue. “Bad move, little lion, that leaves me free to attack your king.”

You glance at the board and curse internally; you have been far too distracted by Jon’s barely subtle stares to properly play the game. “Perhaps I am simply letting you win, you are getting older, Father, it is only the kind thing to do.”

Your father raises an eyebrow and delivers his final move. “Ah yes, it is kindness that distracts you, not the strapping lad who seems he will burst into flames if he does not look at you every three seconds.”

You glance over at Jon, who swiftly turns his attention back to Arya, correcting her stance out in the training yard, the ground freshly cleared of snow.

You and your father have taken a seat on one of the benches within one of the entrances to the guest chambers that spills out into the yard. It’s the perfect mixture between the warmth inside and the crisp morning air outside.

“I have not the faintest idea what you speak of.” You say, popping a grape into your mouth and chewing slowly, trying to hide your smile from your father.

He sighs and shakes his head. “All those years spent teaching you to mask your emotions, to have the perfect expression that never reveals anything, gone with the simple presence of a dark-haired northern boy who does naught by train and brood.”

“He reads as well.” You say, unable to stop yourself from defending Jon.

“Oh, does he now? Someone send word to the Grand Maester, we have found his newest acolyte.” He snorts, taking a drink from his glass.

You wrinkle your nose in response. “You are quite humorous, Father, truly you could put the court fool out of a job.”

He sets his wine down and heaves a heavy sigh. “You know I only ever wish for your happiness.”

“Yes, it is why you are my favorite father in the whole continent.” You smile teasingly, pulling your cloak closer around you as the wind picks up.

“But he is a bastard—”

“You said all dwarves are bastards in their father’s eyes, and yet you are still a man worth respect and titles.” You cut in, surprising even yourself with your outburst.

“Y/N.” Your father says sternly, laying his hands flat on the table.

You duck your head. “Sorry, Father.”

“He is a bastard, he cannot be your husband, a lover, or a guard, yes, but not a husband. If we were not Lannisters, if our house was not as it was, then perhaps it would be allowed. Gods know I do not wish to force you into a marriage you despise, but you are still a lady, still have the potential to win over great victories for our family.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, turning his words over in your mind. “Are you suggesting I proposition him, like Queen Rhaenyra did Ser Criston Cole?”

“I am not suggesting anything, I do not wish to think of my only daughter as a lady grown, but if you must follow Queen Rhaenyra’s footsteps…perhaps it is a Lord Harwin Strong you should seek instead.” His tone is careful, teetering the line between fatherly advice and the words of a Lannister.

You toy with the edges of your cloak. “Jon cares much for his honor, it would be shameful to even ask him such a thing.”

Your father’s hand covers your own. “That bleeding heart of yours, it comes straight from your mother.”

You smile. “And you, as well, do not downplay your kindness. An unkind father would have shipped me off to the richest man who asked for my hand the moment I first bled.”

He shivers in disgust at the thought.

Your eyes drift over to Jon and Arya, the latter who has been distracted by the appearance of Sansa and Joffrey.

“Perhaps a guard then, you could do worse than a guard you have grown alongside, it breeds loyalty.” Your father muses, watching how Jon shifts to put himself between Arya and Joffrey.

You cringe when Joffrey challenges Jon to a playful duel, ignoring your father’s words. “This will not go well.”

“Perhaps it will be good for your cousin’s ego to be beaten into the ground by someone he deems below him.”

You meet your father’s eyes and you both burst into laughter.

“Y/N, Uncle, stop laughing and come, all must witness this display of skill.” Joffrey calls, beckoning you both over.

“I cannot, Nephew, I must meet with your Uncle Jaime.” Your father calls back, hopping down from the bench.

“Father.” You hiss, silently begging him not to leave you with Joffrey.

He pats your hand. “You will be fine, stiff upper lip, little lion, remember?”

You groan and pout at him, but he shoos you forward.

Sansa crushes your hand as you watch Jon and Jeffrey spar, it’s clear Jon is holding back, you’ve seen him training, he puts more effort into hitting the dummies than he does attempt to hit Joffrey.

“Should you not cheer for your cousin?” Sansa asks.

The thought has never crossed your mind, and now it makes your stomach turn. “I would not want to break his concentration.” You say gracefully, trying to keep your eyes on the clashing swords and not Jon.

“Who cares?” Arya cheers, “Go Jon, knock him flat.”

Jon flashes her a smile, one born of confidence and the rush of near victory, and your heart skips a beat. For a moment, you can imagine him competing in a tourney. His polished armor flashing in the sun, ripping his helmet off and letting it fall to the ground, his curls set free as he directs that smile towards you, the crown of roses in his hand naming you his Queen of Love and Beauty.

“Good work, My Prince, hit him hard.” Sansa cheers in direct opposition of her sister.

Joffrey turns towards Sansa, basking in her praise. A fatal mistake, his distraction allows Jon to knock him to the ground.

The action rips a gasp from you, not many aside from your Uncle Jaime would dare to knock Joffrey off his feet.

Your cousin lies there stunned, then he darts up, sputtering, his face turning red as he hurls insults at Jon, before storming off, Sansa jumping up to follow after him.

You catch her arm. “Lady Sansa, I would leave him to his solitude, my cousin is not fond of sharing in his embarrassment.”

Sansa looks as if she wishes to argue, but relents and turns to scold Arya for her cheering.

Jon’s gaze falls upon you, he hasn’t even broken a sweat, his eyes the color of a winter storm in the sunlight.

Perhaps a guard then. Your father’s words echo in your mind. You didn’t need to follow in Queen Rhaenyra’s footsteps, you could follow in Queen Alicent’s. Your maester had spoken of the pure and courtly bond between her and Ser Criston Cole when you were young, and you had been enraptured by the devotion Ser Cole had to his queen.

“Well done, Lord Jon.” You say, giving him a smile and a slight nod of your head as you take a step forward, then another until you are standing before him. Then you lean in, “though I would not have protested if you bruised his jaw when you knocked him flat.”

A slight smile tugs at Jon’s lips, and your eyes dart down to them.

He sucks in a breath, then takes a step back, putting more space between you, an overly appropriate amount of space. “Thank you, Lady Lannister.”

“Y/N, or if we must use titles, Lady y/n.”

Jon swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his pale throat. He has a nice throat, well-formed, pale with a smattering of dark stubble where it meets his chin. He must be freshly shaved, there’s a slight nick near his right ear.

You must get a hold of yourself, a nice throat? Y/N, you are shameful. You chastise yourself internally, tearing your eyes from him.

“As you wish, Lady y/n.” He whispers, his voice nearly stolen by the wind.

Jon TL: @mostclevermiss