#theonsa prompt

[weirwoodsea]

a candle in a broken tower

THEONSA SOUPVERSARY 2024 *poetry from I named us grief by Nikita Gill

[greywoe]

I would have died to get you there.

game of thrones made a lot of Choices with this plotline but in the end it gave us them... and I haven’t stopped thinking about it since. was happy to find out i’m not the only one who felt this, as there’s an event dedicated to them! so here’s a pic for #soupversary2023

[ship-ambrosia]

YOTP for June! Yes, I know I'm two days into July... lol

I have been craving to write a Theonsa wedding fic for a while now. I find the wedding ceremony of the Old Faith to just be so beautiful & I adore the presenting of the bride first, and the announcing of the titles, and the exchange of the groom's cloak.

There's not a lot about Ironborn weddings unfortunately, so I'm electing to make them nicer than they probably are.

[alleyskywalker]

If you’re still doing ship prompts and it’s an ship you like then maybe Theon/Jon/ Sansa with the prompt of cuddling and direwolves?

Grey Wid had been the only direwolf to actually like Theon before, so it's no surprise when Ghost takes to him slowly and uncertainly. Sansa the wolf recognizes at once as his magical kin, and the new bond Sansa and Jon have grown, free of their childhood insecurities and petty prejudices, entices him further. Whether it's Jon's blossoming trust of Sansa's tenderness that convinces Ghost in the end, Theon cannot be certain, but eventually he comes around. Now when they all lie together in a heap in the furs, Sansa more often than not the one wedged between them, Ghost comes to lay across all three of their legs, a fuzzy hot blanket of wolf. licking at their hands and not avoiding Theon anymore than he does the others. It feels a little like home.

[send me a ship + prompt and I'll write a 3 sentence fic]

[oatflatwhite]

twenty questions for fic writers

tagged by @redbelles @clusterbuck and @buckactuallys <3

1. how many works do you have on ao3?

119 lmao

2. what's your total ao3 word count?

523,497

3. what fandoms do you write for?

um like so many lol. lately it's been masters of the air but my other two big/consistent ones are band of brothers and 9-1-1

4. top five fics by kudos

no morning fears, no mountains to climb (911)

the handyman can ('cause he fixes it with love) (911)

'cause i like the sense of falling (she-ra)

how to peel oranges (911)

75 best knitting puns that will have you hooked (911)

5. do you respond to comments?

yes i try to!! the only ones i don't really respond to are where the comment is just like. an emoji lol.

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

well my ongoing series what took you so long? is all pretty fucking angsty right now lol

7. what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

soooo many. love a happy ending. my cheesiest stuff is probably the fic i put together from a bunch of buddie kiss prompts a couple years ago, to keep still holy (your kiss upon my mouth)

8. do you get hate on fics?

no, but then again my fics are locked to registered users only, so

9. do you write smut?

occasionally! don't know how good i am at it but i try

10. craziest crossover:

nothing much really on my ao3 lmao. have some old stuff back in the ff.net days lol. actually i just looked the only crossover i really have published is a baberoe high school au (The Art of Perseverance) with band of brothers and the pacific characters. which isn't that crazy lol.

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

um, kinda. there was a shadowhunters one that was really similar to one i had published but i worked it out with the author lol

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

yeah a couple! it's a very humbling feeling

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

no. in high school i wrote a hunger games oc fic with my friend's oc and we planned out all the characters/deaths together but i wrote it solo after that lol. she clocked in at almost 40k woof

14. all time favorite ship?

i can't read suddenly.gif < stealing that from meg lmao!!!!! it's probably winnix though. baberoe and clegan my beloveds too. and god. theonsa. *drowns myself*

15. what's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

To the Harbormaster... girl i'm so sorry

16. what are your writing strengths?

description and characterisation 100%. i think my dialogue is pretty good too

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

lmao same meg, plot. i'm trying to write an original work for uni and it's goddamn struggle street let me tell

18. thoughts on dialogue in another language?

listen yeah i've done it. i would do it differently now than i did when i was 17 lol. i think yeah prev if you're a native speaker or know someone who is who can go over it for you... then sure. but also, you can just work around it by saying "he said in french" or whatever. nora sakavic does it all the time

19. first fandom you wrote in?

DELTORA QUEST! lief/jasmine babes <3

20. favorite fic you've written?

hm. i like a lot of the hbo war stuff i've written but i think this has to go to my heartstopper uni nick fic go ask for joy division. it took so much out of me. there is so much of me in that fic. fuck. also same kind of goes for my steddie/ronance future fic my future's in hand. i feel like i write best when it flays me open inside <3

i'm not sure who hasn't been tagged! but ping @ww2yaoi @raylangivins @anachilles @rosiethals and @newcathedrals if you guys want <3

[electricbluebutterflies]

“Invisible chains are the strongest.” for the prompts

Theonsa (yay debut fic for them / please be nice to me guuuh), post-canon-divergent, PG-ish, also on ao3.

It’s easier to not be alone.

This is how she justifies. This is how she rebuilds. This is how she-

It’s easier. After everything she has endured, Sansa figures she deserves that kind of choice when she can get it.

There is enough to do, in the weeks that turn to months, to make her forget there was ever a life before. She has become everything, and out of that she will mend, out of that-

The moments her mind is not safe do not go away. It is easier not to speak of them.

It’s easier to not be alone. It’s easier to allow familiarity to be a beginning of…

She does not know what she wants, at first. She does know that in another life she would have loved him when they were children, and in this one it is a mercy to have someone in her circles who knows too many of her scars. These walls are haunted for him too, and it is easier to walk them together, easier to-

Sansa does not think of the future beyond how much of the North needs to be rebuilt. She does not think of her heart anymore. She still knows it will eventually want to rest.

She knows her advantages. When she marries again – if she marries again, and she may choose that too – it will be by her own desires. Perhaps not only for love, but she would like to hope-

They walk the grounds, and she wonders if it would be alright to reach for his hand.

They do not speak beyond necessary formalities. There is a comfort in that presence in these months, the safety of not being-

“Will you stay?”

She will let it be a decision now. It had not been when there were wounds to recover from, and that was months of new worry, but all is well now, and she is not-

He turns to look at her and she sees the flash of fear in his eyes, and let no one else ever say that he is unwanted, and-

“Would it be a choice?”

“In what way do you mean?”

“If you want me gone-“

Her heart breaks, and she is reminded of its presence. Her heart breaks, and she wants to cry, to fold him in her arms, to find out if his kisses would taste like saltwater, to-

“If that… if anyone…”

“You have always been kind, and I would hope that everyone else here follows your lead, but-“

“Has something happened?”

He shakes his head, and she can fill in what is not said easily enough, nothing that should concern her but minor slights, overheard whispers, nothing likely to escalate but enough to poke at old wounds and-

“You would tell me, if-“

“I still can’t tell what you actually want to ask me.”

She doesn’t know either, she thinks. She doesn’t have a plan yet – there has never been a plan, not for her – and it is entirely possible that a major direction of the rest of her life rests on what she says in the next few heartbeats, and she isn’t sure-

She could ask him to keep her warm in the night and he would do it. She could ask him to stand by her side always, any form that could take and oh there are options, and he would. She could-

She kisses the side of his face, and it feels light and sweet and warm, and she does not know what she wants but she knows where this will lead. A good man, now, who will let her delight in him, and-

“Will you stay?” she repeats.

“As your consort?”

“Perhaps, in time, if you-“

“You could do better.”

As if that is the way of the world, Sansa thinks, as if the control she has over her own fate is that much of a ward against unknown men with unknown agendas, as if-

“What if I just want you?”

He’s quiet for a few moments, doesn’t quite look at her, doesn’t quite-

“Would that be enough?”

“I know my options, and I know you. You are loyal to me and you would not take pleasure in my pain. Between those facts alone…”

“You used to dream of-“

“You know why I don’t anymore,” she says too quickly. “If I must be practical-“

“Would that be enough?” he repeats.

She can’t know. Not yet. She is still mending her heart, and perhaps in time…

This would be a good thing to build around, she decides. She does want and she does wonder, and-

She presses her lips to his because she can, and he does taste a little like salt like she’d thought but also like winter winds and home, and-

“Is that enough for you?” she murmurs, tilting her head so her mouth is still against his skin.

“Would you stop there?”

“I think I would want more, if I were to… at least the warmth of…”

If she is to do this, she thinks, she needs to be sure. If she is to do this…

“I could give you that, if you’d have me. There are still…”

“I could be happy with you.”

She expects he’ll say something else to give her a way out, but instead he turns his head for a kiss and it’s soft and good and she can see a future she wants in it and-

“Yes.”

[selkiewife]

A late submission the Theonsa Soupversary

Collar

Prompt: the monsters win

Set in post long night ravaged north, Theon and Sansa have struggled to rebuild Winterfell and themselves. Spring has finally come, but they both feel caught in winter. And after everything that happened, can Winterfell ever truly be their home or will it always be a prison?

Please read all the tags/warnings!

[oathoftheheart]

For these Theonsa prompts: I accidentally made this super angsty but it’s still soft and cute in the end so !!~ i’m sorry if this isn’t exactly what you wanted, but I love end season-Theon so this takes place the first night after Sansa and Theon are reunited at Winterfell @diligentocelot @kirazci

The cold, familiar wind howls across the endless fields waiting just outside the North Gate. Those on duty are quick to give him a wide berth, and even the greenest boys know well enough by the kraken on his leathers to remain at a distance. It hasn’t been that long since the last time he was here behind these walls; 

The North remembers. 

There’s too many people in the Keep now for it to be truly quiet; too many ghosts as well, their voices waiting for him around every corner. He still falters when entering the main yard, the image of Ser Rodrick and those farm boys branded beneath his eyelids. 

And though he knows he deserves it, deserves to be reminded of what he did for the rest of his days- no matter how much longer that is- this stolen moment of peace still feels precious. 

Theon stands by himself, facing the fields of what used to be his home, and closes his eyes to it all. 

A warm, gloved hand carefully settles on his upper arm, startling him enough that he nearly cries out. But it’s only Sansa. Lovely, strong Sansa with her eyes of steel and her lips that curl into a smile he feels unworthy of receiving. 

“Do you remember the last time we stood here together?” She asks him quietly. 

“ ‘Course, my lady.” Theon whispers. His eyes flicker behind them to the ground where Myranda had fallen; her body twisted and broken until she hadn’t resembled a person at all. 

The only ghost that doesn’t haunt him. 

“I trusted you, you know. After everything that had happened, I trusted you enough to jump.” 

“You shouldn’t say that.” He nearly chokes on the words. “You shouldn’t trust me, not after-not after what I’ve done.”

“But I did- I still do.” Sansa pauses and lifts her face towards the sky, the light from the moon soft and bright on her skin. It almost hurts to look at her. 

Time had hardened the Lady of Winterfell, but beneath it all, she’s still the girl who used to make him cloaks for his nameday. The girl who refused to play in the snow with he and Robb for fear of ruining her pretty dresses, but gave in every time once her brother rubbed snow in her hair, if only so that she could punish him properly with snowballs aimed at his face. She’s still the girl that he foolishly thought he might marry someday, a lifetime ago. 

Theon flinches from the dangerous thought. How foolish had he been that he thought himself deserving of Sansa Stark, even before his betrayal. If Ned were still alive, he’d have already taken his head, along with Ramsay’s- no, Ned Stark would never have married his daughter to a Bolton in the first place. She would have been safe. And it’s all his fault. He’s no Lannister or Frey, but he might as well have sentenced the Starks to death himself. 

As if sensing his dark thoughts, Sansa takes his hand in hers, forcing him to meet her eyes. “This is our home, Theon Greyjoy, we grew up here together. You belong here as much as Jon or I do.” She gives his hand a gentle squeeze. “I trust you to fight for me...to fight for Winterfell.”

He can feel tears welling in his eyes but he hides it as best as he can, turning as she had earlier to look up at the stars. It really is beautiful, the sky of the North. Beautiful and bright and cold, just like it’s Lady. 

She slides her gaze back to the stars as well and they both fall silent for a time, simply breathing it in side-by-side, while above them shines thousands upon thousands of constellations. The Warrior with his bow, Vhager- the dragon of Visenya Targaryen named so for the Old God of Valyria, the twins (Baela and Rhaena), and the fierce direwolf that suddenly reminds him of Sansa’s pet Lady. 

It’s then that Theon realizes she hasn’t yet let go of his hand, and the swooping feeling it causes in his stomach is impossible to ignore. He fights the urge to step away, though it would be better for both of them if he did. Instead, he lets himself stay and drink it all in, if only for a little while longer. 

Theon closes his eyes and feels a wave of calm roll through him unlike anything he’s felt since long before leaving for the Iron Islands. It’s funny, he thinks, that the first time he’s felt safe in years is right before he’s sure to die.

It would be worth it though, dying now to protect her. He would have done it as Reek, would have done it in those frozen woods if it meant keeping the life burning through her veins.

He sighs quietly and has just resigned himself to head back inside when he feels her lips brush against his cheek. Theon’s eyes flicker open in surprise, but when he turns, Sansa is still solid beside him, not a ghost of his imagination. 

Though he tries to speak, every word getting caught in his throat, she only smiles once more and turns back to the stars as if there’s no other place she’d rather be. He gives up on trying to say anything then, knowing he would only ruin whatever had just happened between them. 

So he sighs again, only much softer this time, and turns back to the sky that now shines a bit brighter than it had before. 

[anniebibananie]

Theonsa modern. Sansa gets mad at Theon and he tries to get back into her good graces.

“I’m not talking to you.”

Theon squinted from his place on her couch, sprawled out too casually for his own good. Sansa watched him for a beat from the kitchen as she paused from making her tea, admiring the softness of him in this position, before turning back toward her mug.

“Seems like you’re talking to me right now, love.”

Love. She hated when he called her love because she didn’t hate it at all. It sort of sent a chill up her spine. He probably knew it too, the bastard. Purposefully, she kept her mouth shut as she held her hands flat against the counter top. Maybe if she watched her tea steep and didn’t say anything, Theon would just disappear by the time she turned around.

“Oh, so now you really aren’t talking to me.” He humphed in frustration. “Sansa. I’ll get so bored if you don’t talk to me.”

She humphed right back, keeping on with this whole no talking thing. She felt sort of on a roll. Her tea was growing darker. Maybe another minute or so, and it would be ready.

“Sansa,” he whined. Then the sound of his socked feet padding against the wood floors as he grew closer.

She made a point of not turning around to acknowledge him. Partially because she was still mad. Also because she thought if she looked she probably wouldn’t be anymore. Darn his stupid face and pretty eyes. Darn it all to hell.

His arms looped around her front, and he rested his head on her shoulder. “What can I do to make you not mad at me?” he whispered. “I didn’t know you were saving the leftovers for your dinner.”

“There was a post-it note on it Theon,” she replied. Her body leaned back into him, and he used it as an excuse to wrap his arms tighter. “An idiot would have known.”

“I’m like a level below idiot, though,” he replied. He pushed his nose into her neck. “Please, Sansa. Please, please, please…”

The feeling of his arms around her and the smell of him–sort of salty, sort of woodsy, sort of something else– was just too much. It was overwhelming. All of it at her fingertips but none of it hers. 

“You’re… too much,” she said with a sigh as she picked up her tea. His arms dropped, and she stepped out of them. Finally, she could breathe. 

“Are you actually mad?” he asked suddenly, his voice sobering. “I thought you were joking mad, but if you’re actually mad… Tell me how to fix it, Sans.”

Sans was almost as bad as love. Fuck, why’d she ever fall in love with her brother’s best friend and her roommate. A colossal idiot move.

Hold me. Kiss me. Love me forever. She thought all of those might be a little too much, though, to say aloud.

He grabbed his keys from the dish by the door, the rattling of them filling the silence of the space.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I ate your leftovers, so I’ll go pick you up new leftovers. It was the Italian place on third, right? Hell, I’ll get you extra and stop for the tiramisu from the bakery across the street.”

“Stop,” she told him with a small laugh, a smile creeping over her face. “You’re making it worse.”

“What–” His eyes widened. “I’m going to fix this.”

“You can’t.”

“But–”

“It’s not the food,” she cut him off. She sighed again and shook her head. “It’s that I’m in love with you.”

“Oh,” he said with a shrug, as if she’d told him the weather or that the rent check was due. He threw his keys back into the dish, and then he was reaching out to grab her mug of tea and set it back on the counter. Before she could ask what he was possibly doing, he grabbed her around the waist and threw her onto the couch. He jumped on after her. “Is that all? I can fix that.”

“By being more of a level below idiot so I don’t anymore?” she asked, but there was a vulnerability in her words and they both knew it.

He grinned, wide and bright and beautiful. “Nah. I’ll just love you back. I mean I have for ages, really, so it’s not a problem at all. Can I kiss you? I feel like we should kiss and make up.”

Sansa had a retort on her tongue already, but he dipped forward and took her lips with his own. It was slow and sweet, something she’d dreamed about for so long.

“Sorry, I couldn’t wait,” he whispered as he pulled back.

Sansa wasn’t really all that mad anymore, but she thought she should maybe use it all to her advantage. “They were really good leftovers. You should kiss me more to make up for it.”

“Ewwww,” he said deadpan, looking down at her with a wide smile, “what a punishment.”

This time, Sansa cut him off with a kiss.

[winterrose527]

Prompt: “I just can’t do this anymore.”

Thanks for this prompt, darling! I am gifting you a teeny little Theonsa ditty (it's my first time really writing them as a main pair so apologies if it is rough)

**

“Sansa, Sansa, stop,” he pleaded.

She pulled away, looking at him incredulously. That reaction was fair enough. Never in his life had Theon Greyjoy stopped a girl from unzipping his pants, and never once since the first time he’d kissed her four months ago, had he ever deterred Sansa Stark from touching him in any way she wanted.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

He sighed, running his hands through his hair, trying to avoid looking at her in her pale pink lace bra, that was equal parts prissy and sexy – just like she was.

“I just can’t do this anymore,” he told her.

“You can’t do this anymore?” she asked, inching away from him.

He could see it immediately, that fear of rejection. The one that every asshole she’d ever dated had instilled in her. The one he’d tried so hard not to trigger over the past few months, or really ever, in her life.

“Not this,” he promised, gesturing in between them, “This… in secret.”

“You want to tell Robb?” she asked, looking down at her lap, “But you said there was no point in hurting him if we weren’t in love.”

“I know what I said, Sansa,” he told her.

He saw one of her cheeks lift in a smile and she looked up at him slowly.

“You’re… in love with me?” she asked.

“Either that or I’m dying,” he agreed.

She giggled and threw herself into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and he breathed in her lavender shampoo.

“You love me,” she breathed against his lips.

“You love me too,” he informed her and she pulled back to look at him, “I’m sorry but you do.”

It was so obvious, the way she looked at him. The way her back uncoiled when he rubbed it. How some nights when she came over here they didn’t even sleep together. The little things she got for his apartment.

Sansa Stark loved with her whole body, and it was kind of hard to miss.

“I’m aware of that,” she smiled.

“So, we can tell him?” he asked, “Today?”

“Today,” she agreed, and then smiled, “But after.”

And when her fingers went to his zipper that time, he didn’t even think about stopping her.

[istaricelebelasse]

Theonsa "Rescue"

“Hush, my love, hush,” A hand wrapped around hers, “It’s alright: you’re safe now.”

Sansa blinked slowly up at the familiar face that hovered above hers. Somehow it was no longer scarred, no longer sunken from stress and starvation and torment.

“The- Theon,” She whispered, startled at the sudden lack of pain in her own body, “Theon, what-“

“Hush,” He said again, squeezing her hand gently as a bright light overtook them, “As I said, you’re safe now- we’re safe now.”

[weirwoodsea]

Theonsa Soupversary Call for Prompts! 

Hey Theonsas! Soupversary is coming up in April and I wanted to crowdsource for prompts this year. So please send ideas for prompts and requests to my inbox. Prompts can be for Show Theonsa, Book Theonsa or a combination of both! They can include prompts for any type of fanwork such as fics, gifs, art, webweaves, music, etc. They can be one word prompts or a detailed description of what you would like to see others create. Thanks and very excited to celebrate again with you all this year! 

[willexxmercer]

Somehow 800 people follow this blog which is just... out of this world.   I’ve had this blog for close to 10 years now, and it’s spanned multiple fandoms, and for whatever reason, 800 of you chose to stick around, and for that I am eternally grateful!

I thought it’d be fun to take some fic prompts to celebrate!  Send me a prompt and a ship and I’ll write a 1500-2000 word fic!

Rules:

Must be following this blog

Must reblog this post

Choose a prompt from one of the following lists (or come up with your own!): (x) (x) (x) (x)

Send me an ask with your request any time between now and April 15!

In the spirit of my multiple fandoms on this site, I’ll accept prompts for any of the fandoms I’ve been a part of since joining tumblr!  See this list for fandoms and ships I’m comfortable writing about!

**I will not write E rated fics for any fandom and I will not write smut for Julie and the Phantoms.

I’ll be tagging everything with tees800 :)

Thank you SO SO SO MUCH for following me and sharing in this tumblr journey with me!  You’re all the best and I couldn’t imagine a better place to participate in fandom!

[ship-ambrosia]

Here’s how writing today went:

Woke up at 7:30am, found a Theonsa Sansa-time travel fic I hadn’t read yet. Read about half of it while getting ready, left at 9am to go to this volunteer thing (very fun, very cool, but not the point of this post)

Arrived way earlier than the start time of 10:30am, so I read a little more. Became fascinated with the idea of time traveler Sansa who was in love with Theon in her past life (have not seen this in other Sansa time travel fics, surprisingly?) struggling to reconcile the difference between the two Theons. Got fic idea, wrote it down but did not start it

My friend drove us to the study site after we left the meeting at 11am, did some more reading on the fic. Realized the author turned comments off 😢

Got back home at about 2:30pm. Finished the fic. Started writing my teeny tiny time travel one-shot exclusively Sansa admitting to current Theon of loving the Theon in her past life. Worked on it from about 3pm to 5pm, took a shower, worked on the fic until about 7pm when I conked out in bed

Mom woke me up at 8:30pm to eat dinner. Worked on the fic at dinner. Went back up at 9pm. Worked on the fic until 9:30pm where I fell asleep again

Woke up at 12:30am. Worked on the fic until completion. Looked at the clock. 2am

It is now 2:30am. The fic is finished at 4.5k words. Realized it fits February’s YOTP 2023 prompt, so I’m saving it for a February release

Alright y’all, goodnight! 😂

[jeyne-stark]

If ur doing those whump prompts, 1 “is that fear I see?” with Theonsa?

"Is that fear I see?" Ramsay asked, a smile curling across his face.

Theon whimpered, trying not to look at Sansa. "Yes, my lord."

"But what are you afraid of, my Reek? After all, you're not being punished. My disobedient wife, on the other hand…" His knife caressed Sansa's cheek. Theon could hear her breathing quicken.

Theon bit his lip. Sansa had told him not to try to take this punishment for her. He was still weak from the last one, but he couldn't just let Sansa be punished. Theon was good at not dying. He'd had practice.

"Answer me, Reek."

"I'm afraid that Lady Bolton won't be able to take the punishment, my lord."

Ramsay's smile grew. "Well then, perhaps I should be merciful. Reek, come up here and punish her."

No. Theon knew he was trembling. "Yes, my lord," he said, taking the knife Ramsay offered him.

He took a deep breath, laying the blade against the skin of Sansa's shoulder. He drew it down in a quick motion, hoping to get it over with. Blood dripped down her back. The cut was shallow, but bloody, and perhaps that would satisfy Ramsay.

Sansa was crying, but hadn't cried out or screamed. She would have to scream to satisfy Ramsay. Theon would have to make her scream.

Theon sliced her again, parallel to the first one. This time Sansa yelped when the knife broke skin, still crying.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled.

"What was that, dear wife?" Ramsay said.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"And what are you sorry for?"

"F-for disobeying you, my lord."

Ramsay smiled. "Reek, slice her again. We need to make sure she remembers the lesson."

Theon gave another slice, parallel to the first two. Sansa sobbed. The wounds wouldn't scar, hopefully; they were shallow, and if Ramsay permitted her bandages, they could heal without a mark.

"And you won't disobey me again, will you, my lady wife?"

"No, my lord, I won't."

Ramsay swept out of the small bedchamber. "Come along, Reek," he ordered.

With one last glance toward Sansa, he obeyed.

[incognitostarkbaratheon]

Things Gendry have said while drunk: “I wish I was as cool as Arya” while Jon just nods like 😔 “me too”

Oh wow, I never had one of these!

OK, let’s see…

This was the first time in a while they had the chance to spend New Year’s night together. Three years ago Robb went to spend the holidays at Highgarden with Margaery’s family, the following year Jon decided to go to the far North with Ygritte and last Christmas Gendry had to stay behind for work and Arya chose to stay in the Stormlands with him.

The week had been a complete success, however, today was their last night together before jobs and obligations took them apart again and the Stark children were determined to make it count.

Gendry didn’t remember exactly who came up with the idea; it could have been Rickon, who knows. The thing was that, at 2:37 in the morning of a windy first of January, he found himself in the very well-equipped basement of Winterfell, right in the middle of a darts tournament.

Rickon was the only one still underage, but since Ned and Catelyn had said their goodnights to go upstairs an hour ago, Theon had quietly passed him a beer and even Robb pretended he didn’t notice. Or maybe he was already drunk enough himself to not care.

The tournament started slow and “by the rules,” they were even keeping the count of points. Every member of the Stark clan, included Margaery, Ygritte and Gendry, had their turn to throw a set of 3 darts. But of course, after two rounds, they were barely respecting the turns anymore.

One by one they failed among cheers and moans. Bran was the first to go, he tried to aim as well as he could but it was obvious computers were his thing, not darts. He accepted his defeat with grace and moved to the other side of the spacious room to play a videogame on the flat screen.

Gendry could tell Sansa was playing more to be with her siblings than because she was for real interested in the game, but she made the effort and looked proud because she lasted more than Bran and hadn’t been the first one to go. She happily sat with a drink to cheer everyone else.

Rickon was the next one. He was ready to fight, it was obvious he had been practising, but the alcohol backfired on him and in the end, his aim failed him. He mumbled something that sounded a lot like “stupid game” before joining Bran.

Margaery showed some good skills, but she ended up going down next, declaring herself more of a strategist than a shooter.

On his fifth turn, Gendry’s mind was cloudy already; he had to concentrate to focus on the board. He could hear Arya cheering somewhere at his left but his hand and his eyes were not in the same page anymore. The darts flew only to hit the outer circle of the board, taking him out of the game.

“Damn!” Gendry exclaimed while snapping his fingers, trying to hide the fact that he was already too drunk to play. He walked to Arya, who immediately threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.

“Don’t worry babe, I’ll get the crown for the both of us.” Then she proceeded to retake her place to throw again.

Things got serious after that, Robb was determined to defend his honour as firstborn, Jon was not willing to lose yet and Theon was on a mission. Gendry didn’t know Ygritte that well but judging by Jon’s comments, she wasn’t the type that gives up easily and he knew his Arya would rather fall unconscious than be defeated. He just sat to enjoy the battle.

Robb went down next in embarrassing fashion, his last darts were closer to the wall than the centre of the board, even Gendry’s last attempt had been more successful. He faked a tantrum, leaning on a wall and pretending he was crying before stepping back.

Jon was next, he was doing well at first but his last dart completely missed the mark. He only slapped the sides of his legs with both hands and went to sit next to Gendry.

Theon took more time, but in the end Arya made his last throws look like a joke and he had to admit defeat. He inclined his body as if he had been an artist that just gave the greatest performance of his life and zigzagged his way to sit on the floor next to Sansa.

Ygritte was about to throw but Arya had something to say. “Why don’t we step back and increase the distance, just to make it more interesting.”

Gendry gulped and looked to Jon, who seemed as surprised as he felt. When he looked back, he thought he saw doubt on Ygritte’s eyes for a moment, but it disappeared as soon as he saw it.

“Sure,” Ygritte said, and they moved 2 steps back.

That lasted two rounds, then Arya gave one more step back. Ygritte followed, but she was starting to look unsure.

Gendry turned to Jon again; his eyes were a mixture of apprehension and excitement, he even had a fainted smile on his lips. He wondered which one of those feelings was for Arya. That’s when Gendry perceived the silence. Everyone, even Bran and Rickon were looking at the two women. ‘Gods, I wish I wasn’t drunk,’ he thought.

Another round, both were accurate and everyone clapped. Then Arya moved back again.

Gendry knew Arya was drunk as well but she looked utterly focused and Ygritte, well, Gendry couldn’t be sure but she looked nervous.

The silence filled the basement again. Ygritte’s turn was first, the first and third darts hit the centre, but the second was a bit to the right, if Arya achieved three accurate throws, she would win.

Arya prepared to throw with a zip of her beer, she took her time, savouring the liquid in her mouth and she looked so hot, Gendry would have jumped on her right then and there if not because they were surrounded by her siblings.

She threw her first dart, it hit right in the centre of the board. The second dart obtained the same results. Then Arya drank from her beer again, a big zip this time. She left the bottle on the counter close to her and gave one more step back. The rest were in complete silence, waiting.

Arya took her time again, aiming carefully, positioning her hand and arm in the right place. She threw and Gendry saw in awe how the dart reached the board, hitting the centre in the most accurate way possible.

The silence lasted just one more second, then everything was claps and cheers. Gendry was hypnotised, he had the coolest fiancée in the entire universe.

“Man, I wish I was as cool as Arya,” Gendry said, not knowing if to himself or to Jon. He realised he had been heard when Jon answered in a low voice.

“Me too mate, me too.” Jon then quickly patted Gendry’s shoulder before standing up to go comfort Ygritte.

Gendry took an extra moment to look at Arya, feeling his admiration and love for her growing with every second, then he stood up himself to go to her.

Arya hugged him as soon as he approached, “I told you I would get it!”

“And you did!” Gendry replied, smiling with pride.

Arya smiled back before getting closer to whisper on his ear. “I will require a prize, Waters.”

Gendry blushed a little bit but managed to answer, “As soon as we’re alone.”

To Gendry’s delight, the party died not long after that, allowing him and Arya to go have their private celebration.

-/-/-

And I think this was longer than I was anticipating, I hope you like it anyway.

Thank you for the prompt! 💛😎😁