#margaery tyrell fic

[valaenatargaryensdragon]

Margaery Tyrell Masterlist

To join my taglist

Kinktober 2023-2024

Requests: Open

Margaery Tyrell:

Aesthetic:

One Shots:

Requests:

[keeponquinning]

frost thaws and roses bloom — multi-chaptered masterlist

koner x margaery tyrell — game of thrones divergent — 18+

Summary — MARGAERY TYRELL should not be alive. Whispers and declarations of her death had spread throughout the Seven Kingdoms. The rose of Highgarden had burnt as the Great Sept of Baelor had crumbled, consumed by the green flames of wildfire. But then... How is it, while on patrol, one of House Stark's guards, KONER, comes across a lady, disoriented, barely speaking until she collapsed into his arms, that bears the striking resemblance, according to Lady SANSA STARK, of the burnt rose? Why, after, could he not rid his mind of thoughts of her? As she, too, seemed to be drawn to him as well? He is just a guard, providing for himself and his little sister, he should only mind of his own matters and keep away from just his duty. Yet...when she smiles, it's like the warmth of the sun rains down upon him, and for the life of him, he cannot look away.

Notes — Before Stranger Things, this show had caught my attention and my comfort character was Margaery Tyrell. This did not bode well or ended well for me! But now here to make it right, combining my two loves and giving them the ending they deserve. I will rely on my knowledge of the show, the books, maybe, some elements, I haven't read them in full ( will i ever?? who knows ) but definitely some depictions of the world its in, spoilers of the show, blood magic, and all the fantasy. I'm planning on, like the books, each chapter being a perspective of a character, so far definitely between KONER and MARGAERY, maybe add in others as well. I just want a big epic romance between these two because look at them! LOOK AT THAT BANNER! They are BEAUTIFUL. Bi panic is what we strive for.

Like this to be added to the tag list for chapters!

M A S T E R L I S T ! I. KONER | II. MARGAERY

TAGLIST :

[nedseii]

your style is just gorgeous and i see you like rare pairs! would you ever consider drawing jon x margaery?

Here you go! Thanks for introducing me to this ship >:) I hope you like it!!

[howyouloveyourdragon]

threesome with margaery and robb please please i BEG

Taking Charge

pairing: margaery tyrell x reader x robb stark alternate universe: Margaery allies with Stark instead of Lannister, Robb survives (no necrophilia here thank you babes) pronouns: she/her anatomy: afab warnings: power dynamics, dom/sub dynamics, brief discussion of trauma (the red wedding) kinks & positions: threesome, dom/sub dynamics, brat taming, light bdsm, being gagged, oral (reader receiving), riding, masturbation, face riding, orgasm denial, fingering dividers by: saradika wordcount: 3,388

A/N: only the best for you ma'am, you told me i could go feral and i always deliver >:) i really hope you enjoy this bby! ♡ also margaery lowkey acts as a medieval marriage counsellor but we'll touch on that later ☠️

Margaery Tyrell is beautiful. You know it. Your husband knows it and the gaggle of raucous men know it as she flits her eyes over Robb. Her lips move but you are too entranced to doubt her words. You hear Robb gulp beside you and your own breath hitches as her shoulders roll back, a lithe hand exposes her neck by sweeping her hair behind her. She smirks as she curtsies--slow and deep. "Thank you, your grace for understanding my position." "Of course." Robb's voice utters but you can hear a familiar gruffness. He glances at two of his men as he gestures for two of them to lead her to a spare tent. You let a gentle hand rest on his forearm. "You need not," You tell the men, ignoring when your husband snaps his sights back to you. You smile pleasingly at Margaery. "We will find somewhere together, it has been a long time since I entertained guests." She returns your grin with the hint of surprise in her crystal eyes. The flicker across your form and her parted lips close. "Perhaps I should be entertaining you, my Queen." You feel as Robb tenses and squeeze gently. You merely hum to Margaery and begin to glide toward her but your husband snatches your arm quickly and tugs you back. His eyes stare deeply into yours as he guides a hand to cup your face, an intensity as he draws closer--prolonging each movement. He connects your lips effortlessly and drinks in the gentle gasp when his tongue treads along the seam of them. Your eyes flutter like the flap of a butterfly's wings until they shut closed. His fingers twist the hair at the back of your head and tugs just enough to let him drink in your soft whine. You don't have the chance to see as Robb's sights turn hard and warning as they lock with Margaery's. Her smirk only deepens.

Eventually you gather the inner strength to pull away with a wet smack and stumble back. As your eyelids slip open his darkening stare greets you, a quick tilt of his head permitting you to step away. His gaze stays locked on you as you leave, linking your arm with the new woman's. "He is rather protective of you." She notes as you walk throughout the camp. You hum in agreement and nod softly. "There was an incident a number of moons ago where he was supposed to marry one of the Frey daughters, we supplemented another man in his place but..." You pause, discomfort crossing your skin like a spider's thick web. Margaerys collects your free hand in the bed of her own hand and squeezes gently. It gives you the courage to continue. "The matter was not resolved. There was bloodshed and we lost a babe but we escaped and so..." Margaery steps in front of you, now holding both your hands. Your breath stutters but still you paint a sad smile across your lips. "I understand." She assures with a gentle smile. She wishes to reassure you. Two of her fingers rise to lift your chin to encourage you looking up into her eyes. "I would feel the same if I had a petal such as yourself. I would take my vows of protection over you just as carefully. And I would take those vows." Her voice purrs like a kitten curled in your lap, like it is a soft tail wrapping itself around your forearm instead of her hand. 

The days pass with your forms close at every turn and under your husband’s watchful eye. Your nightly activities increase, a deeper need clawing up Robb’s chest. Tonight, you writhe in the sheets with Robb's pants fanning over your neck as his fingers bury deep within your core. He moans at the wet stickiness, letting it drip down his hand. You feel it growing–the wave about to crash–swirling deeper and deeper. It’s like a whirlpool that you are begging to let swallow you down. You want it, you need it and then–Then Robb retracts stops. “Say it,” His unusually gruff voice murmurs in your ear, ignoring your flailing legs. You try to grind back and forth but his spare hand pushes your hips down in warning. He leans up to your ear. “Say it.” He demands once more, rougher. “I love you.” You concede easily, gentle whimpers pouring out. His fingers roll fluidly again and the waves return. “Again.” “I love you.” The water spins you, an overwhelming heat distorts your sight. “Again.” “I love you.” And finally he lets the dam break inside you. Your heat gushes over his hand. His mouth drops down onto yours with a resounding kiss. His lips move sloppily but demandingly. He grumbles as he turns to lay his back on the bed and sling and arm around your own. “So good for me.” He rumbles. “My best girl, hm?” You mumble in approval while he moves to kiss your cheek before standing. Your whines return as he begins to leave you, presumably to visit the tent of your living quarters. Not for the first time you are grateful your husband is given special privileges but detest the sight of his back. He chuckles low. “A moment, my love.” He leaves, presumably to find a cloth and water. Your slick glistens down your rear. 

Minutes pass, possibly twenty, possibly thirty but either way you are unsatisfied with your missing husband. You rise on shaky legs, bare all except a silk robe. Your feet lead you to the connecting tent, surprised at the closed sheets of it. Your breath hitches as you step toward the dark tent, your fingers about to part the sheets but two familiar voices interrupt the movement. “I heard you of course…” A Tyrell voice tuts and your eyes go wide. Surely she does not mean… “Denying your wife? I thought Starks were honourable.” A deep blush treads up your face with the wisps of wind. You shiver as the cold air creeps through your dress, hardening the pebbles beneath. You peek through the curtain and instantly clasp a hand over your mouth at the sight of your husband stiffened, the woman opposite trailing her fingers up his tunic. He snatches her wrist quickly and squeezes it harshly. You can hear her breath hitch. “What are you doing, Lady Tyrell?” Robb snarls to which she merely chuckles. She steps onto her tiptoes and leans into his ear. “I am going to teach you how to please your wife, how to please your Queen, how to…worship her.” She purrs the words like a playful kitten. His grip loosens enough for the highborn lady to grow bold and raise her other hand to his shoulder. He is silent as his eyes track her palm. It is almost soothing, the circles she rubs against the loose fabric. The wolf King clears his throat before he speaks. “How?” You would pity his vulnerable tone if it didn’t charge the throb of your pearl, if the pebbles of your breasts were not growing more sensitive with every word that flowed through your ears.

You almost gasp when you see her unravel two snakes of rope from beneath her skirt, letting it feed through her fingers as she pushes Robb down into a wooden chair though you are both aware it could not truly hold him unless he demanded his own body to still. Her hands glide down his arms, thick with muscle, her nails play with the top threads of his linen undershirt. The rose unlaces the ties of his shirt slowly, torturing. Your eyes hook their gaze to her fingers, mouth going dry at their graceful movements. She is a lot more experienced than she let on but it does not upset you...in fact it rather does the opposite, your pearl beginning to throb again. He watches her, eyes tracking her every motion. “Well first you are going to have to calm yourself. I would hate for her to join us too early, before we even have you prepared for her. You cannot see her face but you can imagine her serene smile. Her hands glide across his chest and push him down into a waiting chair. The bridge of rope between her hands follows down to slither between his legs. He grunts at the contact, his member still heavy from the activities before. He bites his lip. Margaery chuckles as she sinks to her knees and begins to bind his forearm to the wooden chair. “Do not worry, my King, we will fix that in a moment.” Your eyes widen and drink in the sight, watching as she binds his other arm as well. You gulp as she straddles his lap.

“Oh such a good boy…” Margaery coos, running her hand into the northerner’s hair and then gripping the curls tight. Having a King bound to a chair before you–inside a tent or not–is a rather quick way to encourage your confidence. For it to drip through your veins and pump the blood raucously. She smirks down at him as he groans. His eyes are as fierce as the wolf he is. “I almost feel guilty for playing with you but if you want to be a King, you will have to earn that right.” She licks her lips and dips a hand between her breasts. The King gasps, matching you simultaneously but then she pulls out a grey fabric and brings it to hover before his mouth. His eyes snap up to hers. “You must trust my practice, King Stark.” He growls but begrudgingly parts his lips enough to bare his wolfish teeth. Her giggling attracts your ears as she slides the gag in his mouth. She raises a single hand in the air and beckons you close. You freeze. “Come, my Queen.” Her free hand runs along his jaw then hardens it, pulling him closer with an intensity you didn’t expect. “He’s pretty isn’t he, dearest?” You merely nod, looking at your husband as the Tyrell tugs at him. Her eyes flit over to you as she smirks. “This is not the first time you have both played this game, is it?” Her grin deepens when your reluctant nod pleases her. Robb bites his lip, trying to hold back the moan. “I was wondering why you do not mind me playing with him but now I see…You enjoy it. Seeing someone else in power for once, taking him…” She slowly tilts her head. “Would you like to tame him? The big bad wolf? You will need to find your voice, pet.” A tentative step forward is all she needs to see to broaden her wicked grin. She slaps Robb’s cheek sharply and climbs off his lap. “There’s a smart girl.” Her hands reach you while her face squeals in girlish delight—a sight you are not used to. 

“We are going to have so much fun.” She purrs and releases one of your hands to stroke her index along a lock of your hair. Her eyes darken with a sea of lust pushing desperately against a restraining barrier. She brushes back your hair and leans closer until her breath is fanning across your lips. “And so we have acquired another player.” The sea crashes—taking your kiss with it—as she presses her lips to yours and drowns in it. Margaery Tyrell is a woman of many talents and one of those talents is knowing exactly what she wants but more importantly how to get it. A gasp slips from your mouth to hers as her fingers trail up your thigh. She slowly lowers herself until she has to pan her head to look at you. Her eyes stay misty. “I’ve always wanted to taste a Queen.” With the flick of her tongue, she pushes you back to lie on the table and spreads your legs with ease, rustling the wretched grey fabric. “Always so modest.” She tuts as she dives her face beneath and skips her tongue along your inner thigh. A rumble burns at your throat, your eyes squeeze as tight as your fists in anticipation. “So sweet,” Margaery commends before darting her muscle across your hidden pearl, wetting the fabric above. “Yes, I think I would like to join you on that throne of yours, we are going to have a lot of fun, sweet blossom.” Her hands turn commanding. “Oh such a good boy…” 

“We are going to have so much fun.” She purrs and releases one of your hands to stroke her index along a lock of your hair. Her eyes darken with a sea of lust pushing desperately against a restraining barrier. She brushes back your hair and leans closer until her breath is fanning across your lips. “And so we have acquired another player.” The sea crashes—taking your kiss with it—as she presses her lips to yours and drowns in it. Margaery Tyrell is a woman of many talents and one of those talents is knowing exactly what she wants but more importantly how to get it. A gasp slips from your mouth to hers as her fingers trail up your thigh. She slowly lowers herself until she has to pan her head to look at you. Her eyes stay misty. “I’ve always wanted to taste a Queen.” With the flick of her tongue, she pushes you back to lie on the table and spreads your legs with ease, rustling the wretched grey fabric of your robe. “Always so modest, hm? Don’t worry, we’ll fix that.” She tuts as she dives her face beneath and skips her tongue along your inner thigh. 

A rumble burns at your throat, your eyes squeeze as tight as your fists in anticipation. “So sweet,” Margaery commends before darting her muscle across your hidden pearl, wetting the fabric above. “Yes, I think I would like to join you on that throne of yours, we are going to have a lot of fun, sweet blossom.” Her hands turn demanding, her nails sinking into your thighs. A yelp rebounds from your lips in time with a distant growl. You sit upright on shaky elbows to let your heavy-lidded eyes gaze upon your needy husband, a dribble of saliva dripping from the corner of his mouth, gag wet. Perhaps fabric is not a desired material. She rolls an ‘r’ along your bud, delighting in your sharp intake of breath. Robb rumbles once more. Margaery sighs. “You can either behave or wait even longer. I will bring your wife to her peak once more for every sound that comes from your lips but you will receive nothing until you have learned to prioritise your beloved.” Her voice is muffled but resounding. She commands him as well as she would command a disobedient mutt. Her tongue licks up your residue. “If you were my wife, I would drink from you every waking moment and if I were your King, I would keep my face tucked between your thighs. Escaping my lips would be your hardest battle.” Margaery moans. Robb growls at the rose’s words but the soothing strokes of her tongue please you. 

She pulls back, smirking at the whines that drip from your mouth. “And so needy too.” She chuckles as she pulls away, her curls tickling up your thigh. You jump in sensitivity but it all makes her coo like caressing a flightless bird. “Aw, sweet darling. Need us to take care of you, huh? Is he not taking care of you? Poor thing…We’ll just have to take care of you, ourselves.” A deep growl permeates from your husband, his arms straining against his ties but as your eyes linger on his form, his cock looks aching as it strains through his trousers, the tip of it wetting the fabric. The poor man must be absolutely throbbing and yet that doesn’t make you pity him, it only entices you. Margaery raises a finger to rub pressured circles on your bud. She chuckles when you hiss and your elbows collapse you to lie back on the table again. The image of your husband’s hungry face lingers in your mind but it’s Margaery’s hair that you move to grasp between your fingers. Your hips grind as her tongue returns to lap at you. “That’s it,” You encourage, delighting in the wet noise.And then it comes again, the sensitivity crashing over your cunt. Your eyes shut tight and your face scrunches up as a long pitiful whine pushes past your lips. The whimper of the Stark King only sends another wave to flow onto Margaery’s tongue who doesn’t lessen her pace until she can swallow down every drop. 

Your body falls imp, sprawled out. Your legs tremble as they hang off the side of the table but finally Margaery’s greed softens and she pulls back. Your glistening wetness still coats her lips as they grin up at you. Her hands slither up your body, starting at your thighs until they settle on your waist. She squeezes gently before spreading them. You hiss briefly but are quickly hushed when she kisses up your neck in soothing patterns. “I will not mark you yet.” She whispers in purring vibration. “But if you ever tire of wolves, I will be but a moment away.” She kisses the space behind your ear. A tempting little rose she is as she pulls away, cupping your hands as she tugs you to stand on your shaky legs. She tuts. “So used today, don’t worry, it’s your turn.” The scent of her hair wafts thickly up your nose, clouding your other senses as she pulls you, one arm now around your waist. When you finally look up from the floor, you see Robb’s piercing eyes waiting for you with the patience of a wild boar. She slowly winds your legs so you can straddle your husband who quickly nuzzles against your neck. Margaery delights as she wraps around you from behind, kissing up your opposing shoulder as her hands help yours to slip down Robb’s smallclothes. However, it is you who raises your fingers to tear open the offending fabric on your husband’s chest and who rips the gag away to replace it with your lips. He grunts and ruts his hips. His member throbs, the top purple and preening for attention. You can almost feel it begging. Margaery’s warm palms roll your hips, grinding you against it but you do not complain. His lips are wet with saliva and sweat but it doesn’t deter you, letting the salt flit across your tongue. 

Margaery praises you as you gather the strength to slide onto his length, gasping out as it fills you for the first time in a week. He groans loudly, eyes already rolling back, it’s the final straw for him to snap off the ropes and capture your hips while you sink onto him. When you finally drop onto him, your arms hook around his neck. “Be good for me, that’s it,” You encourage as he whimpers like a pup. Margaery beams with pride as she brings her fingers to roll your nipples back and forth. “Tell her how much you want it.” Margaery prompts, voice growing gravelled. “That you want her, that you want to fill that sweet little pussy, hm?” Robb nods, and thrusts hard into you, a yelp streaming from your lips. “I want you.” He moans, hot breath panting as his grip tightens. “Want you more than I’ve wanted anything. Iw ould give up my crown and my line for you.” A high pitched noise escapes you as your hips rock faster back and forth. “Want to keep you full of me. You want that? You want me to keep you full?” Your nods are all he needs to finally let loose and spill, you tighten as Margaery flicks the pebbles of your breasts. You throw your head back but the rose of Highgarden is quick to rake one hand into your hair and tug you to face her. “That’s right, my queen. Release for us.” And you do, your womanhood spasming as a thick cream rings around your husband’s who sighs breathily and kisses up your neck. A line of wetness slides up as your companion chuckles low. 

General Taglist: (if your name is in italics and bold, that means i couldn't tag you, you will need to check your settings | to be added there you can creep into my asks) @hopelesswritergall @its-actually-minicika

Margaery Taglist: (if your name is in italics and bold, that means i couldn't tag you, you will need to check your settings | to be added there is a link attached to wear you can comment or you can step into my asks ♡)

Robb Taglist: (if your name is in italics and bold, that means i couldn't tag you, you will need to check your settings | to be added there is a link attached to wear you can comment or you can step into my asks ♡)

[alwaysdaenerys]

our great glory

Chapter 30: Rhaegar II

[chic-beyond-the-wall-oc-acct]

What Abigail wore to Joffrey and Margaery's wedding

When your first cousin marries your other first cousin vibes & a little excerpt ❤️

Sansa turned away from the spectacle, sickened by what she saw. As the horrendous display of cruelty and violence went on, another sound caught her attention. It was loud in her ears, the tapping of Abigail's clawed ring on the wooden table. She glanced over at Abigail, the previously joyous Lannister's face had turned dark. There was no joy in her expression, it was as if the light had been wiped from her face. Her hard gaze remained fixed on the horrid display as her ring dug into the table. Sansa's nerves were on edge, she felt as though something was about to happen and it wouldn't turn out well, and the longer she looked at Abigail, the more she was sure of it.

I'm sure we can all guess what's happening in this 🤭 also not entirely sure if I trust Abigail with the lip cuff because she'd probably start stress chewing it :/

[greenqueenhightower]

I had this fever dream where Sansa, Margaery and Alicent were talking about what seemed very serious and secretive but also ridiculously fun, and then I woke up and forgot what it was.

To all those people with creative minds out there, help me piece this back into my memory!

What were they saying????

[catofadifferentcolor]

Terrible Fic Idea #73: Game of Thrones, but make it Lancelot

As anyone can tell you, I have a terrible weakness for female Jon Snow fics, largely because a female heir to the throne allows you to combine claims and explore facets of Westeros in a way that can't be easily done with rival male claimants. And then I thought: if I can have an Anne Boleyn, why not a Lancelot?

Or: What if Jon Snow, the most famed knight of his generation, had an affair with the Queen of Westeros?

Aka: The Lord Protector Fic

Just imagine it:

Everything follows canon, except Cersei Lannister dies in childbirth with her second child, Myrcella. This bothers her husband not at all and, despite Jon Arryn's urging him to remarry to secure his throne, Robert works his way through a series of brothels and mistresses before being forced to marry 14-year-old Margaery Tyrell in 297 in exchange for House Tyrell paying off some of his debts.

When Jon Arryn dies the following year, Robert and his court head north as per canon. While there, Sir Barristan takes interest in young Jon Snow - perhaps he sees something of Rhaegar in the boy, maybe he imagines he sees something of his presumed uncle Arthur Dayne's talent in him - and offers to raise him to knighthood with the aim of one day serving in the Kingsguard.

Ned is unable to turn down the offer, and reluctantly allows Jon to accompany them to King's Landing.

Jon quickly gains a reputation for gallantry and chivalry to rival either Barristan the Bold or Arthur Dayne - he intervenes when Joffrey tries to have Lady put down, makes a strong showing in the Hand's Tourney, and preforms several small acts of standing up for ladies/smallfolk/children that are quickly mythologized. Within two years he's knighted, with some asking if he will be allowed to take up the Sword of Morning as a presumed bastard of House Dayne.

Princess Myrcella is particularly taken with him after he defends her from Joffrey and demands he become her sworn sword until a position opens up in the Kingsguard.

His actions also draw the attention of Queen Margaery, who is even less happy in her position as queen than Cersei was but much better at hiding it. At first it's just friendship couched in a courtly love tradition, but by 299 they're lovers. When she gives birth to Prince Harlen a year later there's no doubt in her mind that Jon is the father.

Meanwhile, King Robert is almost as taken with Jon as his wife and daughter, for here is a version of Ned Stark who is also knightly, willing to take part in tourneys and feasts and dancing, and cannot help but see Jon as the son he never got to have with Lyanna. Instead of allowing Jon to take a position the Kingsguard as they open up, he showers Jon with riches and titles.

After winning a huge purse at the tourney in honor of Prince Harlen's second birthday - and Queen Margaery's second pregnancy - Jon is named Lord Cargyll, taking up the name and lands of the extinct Crownlands house of the same name, changing the golden goose in their banners to a golden direwolf.

After a falling out with Renly a year later, Jon is named Master of Laws...

...and six months later Robert's vices finally catch up with him, infamously being found dead in brothel of particularly ill-repute following an orgy.

Joffrey, now 17, is still very much his mother's son. One of his first acts on being named king is to declare his father's second marriage invalid and his half-siblings, Prince Harlen and Princess Lenna, bastards. His second act is to declare most of his father's Kingsguard and small council traitors for allowing his father to be "lured" to the brothel where he was "assassinated by Targaryen loyalists."

This naturally goes down badly, and though some of the lords named are captured and executed - Ned Stark, Petyr Balish, and Grand Maester Pycelle among them - most manage to escape. Jon in particular is able to get Margaery and the royal children to his lands in the Crownlands, and start raising a rebellion in Prince Harlen's name.

Robb ends up leading an army south to avenge his father, as per canon, but is never named King in the North. He does win several key victories against Tywin Lannister in the west, eventually taking Tywin himself captive. His victories earn him the nickname the Hammer of the West, a la Edward I.

Jon leads the fighting against the Lannister forces in the east, eventually taking King's Landing. The fact that he's able to keep his army from sacking the city and offers Joffrey the chance to take the black earns him the nickname Jon the Just. (Joffrey naturally refuses, tries to attack Jon in a rage, and is very swiftly killed in self-defense.)

In the aftermath, 4-year-old Harlen is crowned king. His mother Margaery is named Queen Regent, with Jon being asked to serve as Lord Protector of the Realm instead of taking one of the open spaces in the Kingsguard. He agrees, and two years later weds Margaery in a ceremony forever known as the Rose Wedding. (It's not as flash as the Golden Wedding, but is still something else.)

Meanwhile, Tywin is sent into exile for his part in abetting Joffrey's actions, with Tyrion taking over as Lord of the Rock. He and Sansa eventually wed and, though their marriage is never one of love, both are are content with their choice.

Robb marries Myrcella. Theirs does end up being a love match, becoming taken with each other when they first meet in the aftermath of Harlen's Rebellion. After their marriage they seem to make it their effort to make up for all of House Stark's losses, eventually having eleven children live to adulthood and marry into various important houses. By their deaths they're known as the Grandparents of Westeros.

Jon goes to his grave thinking he is Ned Stark's son, not knowing he's inadvertently brought about a Targaryen restoration.

Bonuses include: 1) the full force of angst and drama being brought to bear on Jon and Margaery's relationship, from its start as a mutual crush when they first come to each other's attention on the journey from Winterfell until they finally marry in 306. This should include Jon's desire never to father a bastard, Margaery's awareness that infidelity in a queen is treason, and their inability to keep away from each other. Extra bonus points if Margaery is able to pass Harlan and Lenna off as Robert's even to Jon, and not admit the truth until many years later; 2) every possible Camelot illusion that can be made to King Robert's court, made with the full knowledge that the beauty and glamor and chivalry of both courts is just smoke and mirrors, and one doesn't have to go looking very hard to find the gritty, painful, ugly reality beneath; 3) Jon using his time as Lord Protector to force through something like the Magna Carta, which enshrines basic rights that even kings must follow far more than the RL document actually did; and 4) Sansa having a prominent B-plot, slowly realizing during her time at court that not everything can be a song. The turning point of this is not Ned's execution, but her discovery of Jon and Margaery's affair years before - and her active choice to cover for them so that someone at least gets their happy ending.

And that's all I have. As always, feel free to adopt this plot bunny, just link back to me if you do anything with it.

Other Jon Snow Headcanons: Aelor the Accursed | Aegon the Adopted | Aegon the Undying | Aegon the Unyielding | Aemon the Adventurous | Baelor the Brave | Bastard of Winterfell | Daemon the Destroyer | Daena the Dreamer | Daeron the Desired | Dyanna the Defiant | Elia the Magnificent | Jon the Fair | Jon Whitefyre | King of the Ashes | Lady Arryn | Lady Baratheon | Lady Lannister | Lady Stark | Lord of the Dance | Lord Protector | Maekar the Maester | People's Queen | Prince Consort | Prince of Summerhall | Queen Mother | Queen of Nightingales | Red Queen | Rhaegar the Righteous | River Queen | Shiera Snowbird | Visneya the Victorious | Weirwood Queen | Wolf Queen

More Terrible Fic Ideas

[asa-do-your-thing]

Hi guys! Long time no see!

I'f you're wondering where I've gone off to, well, I am currently very deep into my 'Dreams'-Verse (and i'm too lazy to upload 25 2k+ chapters onto tumblr).

But fear not! I want to write some smut / nsfw alphabets again, so that I can stay as versatile as possible. I will write something for the top 3 characters from this poll! If you have any specific scenario in mind, feel free to tell me.

As always, no Modern and no y/n! <3

[tyrionsource]

A Little Lion

by actuallysango

Relationship: Tyrion Lannister/Margaery Tyrell Summary: Margaery is married to Tyrion. She gives him a lion instead of kittens. This sweet and delightful fic explores a potential political match between Tyrion Lannister and Margaery Tyrell when true romantic feelings between the two begin to blossom. A Little Lion (you will need to be signed in to read)

[laufire]

I know there HAS to be amazing ASOIAF/GOT fic out there, long and plotty and flowery, centered in the female characters and preferably the (either canon or speculated) dynamics between them with little to none het romance. I’m just too lazy and too wary of the shit I might encounter in the way to go look for myself LOL.

[welldonebeca]

The King's Wives (1)

Summary: After the fall of Robert’s rebellion, Rhaegar’s surviving son would be raised in secret as a bastard for the first fourteen years of his life. Six years after finding out the truth, Sansa travels down south to join him and complete his group of seven wives - representing each Region of his Kingdom. Slowly, they become a very happy family. A.K.A.: Jon may get seven wives, but Sansa gets six sisters. Main Pairing: Jonsa Minor Pairings: Jon x Arianne Martell, Jon x Margaery Tyrell, Jon x Mya Stone, Jon x Alys Arryn (OC), Jon x Asha Greyjoy (platonic), Jon x Myrcella Baratheon (Platonic) WC: 1.9k words Warnings: Fluff. Canon divergence.

If you like my work, consider buying me a coffee or subscribing to my Patreon. It’s just $2 a month and helps a lot while I go through these hard times.

Masterlist

Sansa was twelve when she knew her life was going to be different from what she first expected.

Before she was born, when her father was young, he had a friend. Lord Robert.

He had warred against the crown and the mad king - the father of King Rhaegar - and lost, after the woman he loved was taken as the Prince's second wife.

Her aunt Lyanna, so young, had caused war all by herself.

It should have been seen as a story of forbidden love, but it wasn't.

Many people died, her father's friend, his mentor - Lord Jon Arryn, father of her cousin, Robert Arryn - and even her aunt Lyanna herself. Prince Vyserys and Princess Daenerys, still children - she was barely yet a toddler.

Queen Elia's children had been killed too. One of them was just a baby, a newborn boy.

All that life was lost, and father... well, father seemed like the only one who survived, him and his little bastard boy.

Of course, Sansa eventually understood why her father and Jon had come home unscratched. Why the King was so grateful to let him come home and have his family.

Jon was a token of mercy father never seemed to be grateful for.

The king had bestowed many pardons, she had learnt as she grew up. Jaime Lannister, who had killed the mad King, but had saved Queen Elia from the hands of the horrid Mountain after he killed her babes, killing the man and saving her life, was now Lord of Casterly Rock and of its lands after his father was executed for letting in the men who'd rioted the King's Landing.

Her own father, who had fought by Robert's side.

Lord Robert's brothers, his only heirs.

Throughout her childhood, the life of the King and Queen seemed just to be focused on trying to create a peaceful kingdom. To maybe restore whatever they had lost during that war.

They never had heirs again, there was never a mention of the Queen pregnant or of the King taking a second wife, like with Aunt Lyanna.

And then the Queen died.

And he never married again.

King Rhaegar stayed alone, and never even entertained everyone's questions or offers of an engagement.

What he did, though, was come North. Every year, he visited, and spend time with her parents, made sure to have at least one meal a day with the oldest children - Sansa had been there a few times, and Jeyne hadn't stopped joking that the king had come to see if she was old enough to be his queen.

King Rhaegar was beautiful, but he was just as old as her parents!

She would never marry a man so old.

But there were questions about how he would continue the Targaryen dynasty.

He didn't even seem to care, not that she could see.

And he took a liking to Jon. He spent time with him, went on hunting trips with him, and was interested in things such as his education and character.

Which was so strange, because her half-brother was no more than a bastard.  Why would he care for a bastard?

And it was all written there. She just wasn't smart enough to put the pieces together.

She found out the truth when she was 12, and Jon was 14.

Bran had led her through the hidden walls of the castle, to show her something after they had said her name in a conversation, her parents and the king.

Jon wasn't her father's son, no. He was the only son of Aunt Lyanna and King Rhaegar.

"I didn't want you to be corrupted by the south," King Rhaegar spoke, looking at Jon's face. "Your mother was raised here. Her principles were much greater than anyone else I had ever met. It's why I fell in love with her."

Jon looked completely shocked, and Sansa's wasn't too different.

Her father's bastard boy, a prince.

Robb was there, right beside her mother, and Sansa couldn't quite read her expression.

Did she know that? Who else knew the truth?

"My whole life, I was raised like a bastard," Jon spoke, sounding frustrated and confused.

"Like the son of the Northern Lord," his father, his real father, corrected him. "You know the ways of the common folk more in this life than anyone in King's Landing. You know the worth of the work of your hands, and the real needs of the people who you are going to rule over."

Sansa cowled. The work of his hands? Jon wasn't exactly living like a prince, but he wasn't a man of the common folk either.

"What happens now?" Robb asked.

Her mother looked at him and then the King, and Robb glanced at his father.

"Is he..."

Father gave him a strong look, and her brother cleared his throat, turning to the king.

"Are you going to take him now, your grace?" he corrected his question. "To King's Landing.”

King Rhaegar exhaled slowly.

"I think Jon is ready," he told them. "And I want him to have time to learn how to be a prince."

Jon looked from her parents to his father, looking unsure.

"What if I say no?" he asked. "What if I don't want to go? "

"You won't," her father told him. "I know you, Jon."

"So you are going to send me South?" he asked, almost in a bratty tone. "To make me a prince I never wanted to be?!"

His father shook his head.

"You are my only heir, Jon, my only child," the King told him, softly. "My only family. I need you."

Jon's shoulders fell.

"You won't be alone," he promised. "You already have brides waiting for you to come home, to turn the right age."

Sansa frowned. Brides? What was he talking about?

"What do you mean?" Jon asked, confused.

"You'll help me reunite the seven kingdoms, son," the King smiled, encouraging. "And your wives."

The room became tense, but the King didn't seem to care.

"Wives?" Jon repeated.

"The High Septon and the Faith recently came to an agreement," he decided. "You know how Targaryen Kings before us have had multiple wives," he reminded them.

Sansa swallowed down.

"We have settled engagements for you," his father affirmed. "With one lady for each Kingdom, from each head family."

Her father stood up, looking tense, but the King didn't seem to care.

"Margaery Tyrell, Asha Greyjoy and Arianne Martell have already been chosen," he told him. "There is a girl who might be the chosen one for the Lannister's, Lady Myrcella Lannister. She is their oldest girl."

"We haven't found a girl in the Riverlands yet," he continued. "But Lord Frey is eager to offer his daughters and granddaughters. And of course, we were merciful enough to legitimise one of Lord Robert's daughters to represent the Stormlands."

Sansa's blood froze in her veins, and her heart was pounding hard in her chest.

"What about the North?" Jon asked, looking fearful.

The king looked directly at her father, unfazed, and Sansa watched her parents exchanging looks.

"We agreed on an engagement between Jon and Sansa when the king arrived," her father spoke between teeth. "But we didn't know you would have more than one wife."

"But I'm sure you would accept anyway," King Rhaegar spoke, emphatic. "After all, what greater honour there is than being the wife of the King of the Seven Kingdoms. She will be a princess! Potentially, his Queen."

Robb stood up with anger all over his face.

"Father, you can't!" he almost shouted. "Jon sees Sansa as a sister!"

Her parents looked away from Robb, and he turned to Jon.

"You can't say yes to this! Jon, you can't!"

Jon looked down.

"It's not like I have any choice," he said simply.

"You don't have any choice?" Robb shouted.

"Boys," her father tried to step between them, pushing Robb out of the way.

"Let them," the King sat down. 'It's best that they settle this now so the feelings won't linger."

Father seemed like he wanted to fight for a moment, but mother stood up, grabbing his hand.

"The King knows best," she spoke slowly, looking right in his direction.

"She is our sister!" Robb pushed Jon's shoulders.

"She is your sister!" Jon argued. "She doesn't even look at me. Your mother made sure to keep us apart the whole time, you know that."

Robb's shoulders sagged, and the adults moved slowly away, with the King guiding them along.

The moment they left, Jon walked off to take a seat, far too close to where she was hiding with Bran.

"I can't believe they lied to me this whole time," he exhaled. "My whole life!"

Robb walked to him.

"Don't sound so regretful," he rolled his eyes.

Jon shook his head.

"I'm serious!" he argued. "My whole life I've been treated like less than anyone else! Like I'm just someone to be stepped on. And then, out of nowhere, I'm a prince, and they want me to go down South with a bloody king who spent 14 years pretending I was nothing to him?! And then he comes around and says he is my father, about how much he loved my mother and how he just wanted me to be like her?!"

Robb scoffed.

"You are so dramatic," her brother spoke. "This is great! You'll be king! With seven wives! If that was me, I would think I was highly blessed by the gods."

Jon shook his head, but chuckled.

"You were literally about to punch me for being engaged to Sansa."

"Sansa is twelve," Robb affirmed. "I don't want her to get married. Ever."

Sansa pressed her lips together.

What was Robb talking about?

Never?

He couldn't want her to be stuck North forever, right? Without a husband and a family?!

"But at least, I know she will marry a good guy," he put a hand on Jon's back. "Who will treat her the way she deserves to be treated."

Jon sighed.

"I don't think this is a good idea," he sighed. "I'm not cut out to be king."

Her brother bumped his arm.

"We were raised side by side," he reminded him. "I know you are ready. I would have you be lord with me when we got older, you know?  So... It's the same thing. But bigger."

Jon chuckled.

"Seven times bigger."

"With seven times the wives!" Robb added, excited.

Sansa scowled. Seven wives?

She was going to share him.

No, she didn't like that.

"Sansa is going to be my queen," he affirmed.

Robb watched him with a bit of interest and hesitancy.

"You don't know the other girls yet."

"I don't need to," he affirmed, shrugging. "Sansa will be my Queen."

Sansa swallowed down. Could he be serious?

"The king looks at me like I'm a dragon, like him," he spoke softly. "But I was raised by your family. I'm a Stark. I want to honour that."

Robb smiled, and they sat together in silence for a moment before her brother-side hugged Jon.

"You'll always be my brother," he affirmed. "Wolf or dragon."

She looked at Bran, who was watching them with big eyes, and touched his shoulder.

"Come on," Sansa whispered, "Let's leave them be."

They walked out together, and her little brother beamed when the two were back in the yard.

"Aren't you excited?" he asked. "You are going to be Queen!"

Sansa hesitated.

She was going to be Queen.

. . .

"The King's Wives" was posted on my Patreon back on June! To read the full story before anyone else and have early access to all of my works, subscribe to my page! It's just $2 a month!

. . .

Forever Tags: @emoryhemsworth​​​ @amythyststorm33​​​ @shaelyn102​​​ @yknott81​​​ ​​ @maximofftrash​​​ @kgbrenner​​​ @thefridgeismybestie​​​ @magpiegirl80​​​ @mogaruke​​​ @shadowhunter7​​​ @musicalcoffeebean​​​ @megasimpleplan4ever​​​ @deemoriarty​​​ @05spn18​​​ @malindacath​​​ @kdcollinsauthor​​​ @random-fandom-fangirl2112​​​ @widowsfics​​​ @frozenhuntress67​​​ @averyrogers83​​​ @notyourtypicalrose​​​ @nerdypinupcrystal​ @giruvega

[nedseii]

I looooove your Tyrells so much 🥺🥺 the designs are great and they are SO pretty in your art style!!! 💖💖 hope you might draw them again in the future……..or if you’d be willing to oblige my wish to see you draw robbaery it would make my year shdhdh

Thx for giving me an excuse to draw them 👉👈

[rainwingmarvel7]

Also the more I plan out As the Raven Flies, the more I realize that Victyr really just third wheels Renly and Loras (and then fourth wheels when Margaery comes in) for the entirety of the Stormlands arc lol

[alwaysdaenerys]

our great glory

Chapter 29: Arya III

[chic-beyond-the-wall-oc-acct]

Drawing of my Game of Thrones OC, Rhae Blackfyre, the lady paramour of Lord Luthor Tyrell. 🥀

She's the grandmother of Abigail Lannister, and she passed in 283 AC of a poisoning, leaving her 10 year old daughter, Emma Flowers, in the care of Lord Tyrell and his lady wife Olenna Tyrell.