So who's banished?
seen from Russia
seen from China
seen from Spain
seen from China

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from Colombia

seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from Italy
seen from Yemen

seen from Saudi Arabia
seen from Germany
seen from Germany

seen from Singapore
seen from United States
seen from Latvia
So who's banished?
@ladystarks asked : remus lupin 🌙
"you can exist without your soul, you know, as long as your brain and heart are still working. but you'll have no sense of self anymore, no memory, no.....anything."
@hogwartsonline quidditch | the malfoy family
‘I know I´ll be in Slytherin, all our family have been.’
She burned as bright as any man, and so shall I. You will not rob me of my birthright!
marry me, i’ll save you
written for @jonsa-creatives: royalty event
summary: sansa stark comes up with a plan to save jon snow from his punishment for being a queenslayer, the only thing is it involves convincing him to marry her.
“Marry me tonight in the godswood.” The words had twirled around her head all day. She had thought them over several times and then several times more before allowing them to come forth before Jon.
His grey eyes, hard with the scars suffering, widened in shock. “Sansa?” He looked at her, her chin firmly set and her eyes blue with steel. “I cannot-”
“You can and you will.” She cut him off. He had languished in this prison long enough; his beard growing unkempt and his curls lank. “Marry me and you become my husband, my subject.” She watched as realisation began to settle on his face. “You will become the King in the North alongside me and none will be able to challenge you.”
Jon shook his head in disbelief. “I committed a crime, Sansa.” His normally gruff voice was thickened by emotion. “I killed a Queen. I never wanted to be a King and they won’t let me anyway.”
“The North is independent now.” She took his hands, unusually bare and roughened with scars, and looked him in the eye. “And, if it came to it they would fight. But, it won’t come to that, Jon.”
Her voice was clear and strong like the sound of steel clashing against steel. A strange feeling rose up in his chest, a mixture of pride and desire and incredulity. “I deserve my punishment, Sansa.
“You killed a mad queen, that’s not a crime.” Sansa reasoned. She was calm with no sign of nerves save the ring she fiddled with on her right hand. “Bran is reasonable.”
The guard came to break them away, filthy and stinking of sweat. “Time’s up, your Grace.” He made an obsequious bow then motioned for her to leave with worried eyes and wringing his hands.
“Come to the godswood, you’ll be left unguarded.” She whispered hastily in his ear, feeling the tickle of his beard against her face. She had paid off the guards and hoped Jon would listen to reason.
The day passed, each moment more dreary than the next, until at last the evening settled with a chill.
She made her excuses then retired to her room to throw on her fur cloak. Approaching the godswood, she felt the oak trees with their ominous shade of crimson appear as if they were looming over at her. The night was cold but she was a Stark of Winterfell and therefore the pinch of frost went unnoticed. The heart tree stared at her, its face stern with the magic of old before the days of the Seven.
“Sansa.” She saw him approach with an uneven gait. “Thank you.” He said as he felt his heart hammer away in his chest.
Her eyes grew softer. “You can be a fool sometimes, Jon.” She took his hand and led him over to the heart tree where they kneeled. “This is not one of those times.” A teasing tone had entered her voice and her face was light with relief.
Together they made their vows in front of their ancient heart, no longer so stern and now feeling akin to home. She slipped off her cloak and felt the heavy weight of Jon’s upon her shoulders as he raised her up. His lips curved into a smile as he gazed at her, her beautiful red hair so bright amongst the darkness of the night, before lifting her into his arms.
“Jon.” Her voice contained notes of surprise as her head lay against his chest, thinner than he had ever been.
His tender eyes dropped down to look at her. “It’s a part of the ceremony.” He felt her warmth against him and felt desire creep into his body. “Isn’t it, your Grace?” It was his turn to tease. He had never thought this moment a possibility, he knew the sacrifice he had made when he had chosen Daenerys.
“Indeed.” Her single word spoke volumes as it was playful yet softly tender. “Your Grace.” A smirk glided its way onto her naked lips.
The following morning, they had walked hand-in-hand down the winding stairs of the Red Keep to shouts of commotion and anger.
“Where could the bastard have gone?”
The voices around all echoed similar thoughts. Anger that the Queenslayer had escaped coupled with frustration that he had managed to evade his punishment. They fell silent at the sight of Queen Sansa holding the hand of the Queenslayer, Jon Snow.
“Sansa, what have you done?” Tyrion’s voice greeted them, worry and fury poorly hidden in his tone.
She looked him square in the eye then looked around her and caught the eye of her personal guard. They nodded surreptitiously, they knew what would have to be done if there was trouble. “Good people, I am proud to introduce my new husband.” She stood tall and proud with a spine of steel.
Uproar broke out. The people began clamouring for justice, pushing forward as if to take their own vengeance. Sansa did not flinch although Jon felt a slight pang of fear threaten his heart.
“It is true he killed the Queen Daenerys.” Her voice rang out above all the frenetic chaos. “It is also true that she had grown delirious in anger and would have killed every man, woman and child of Westeros if it meant she could have taken the throne.” She paused for a moment, conscious of every eye upon her. “Jon has saved Westeros by preventing another period of instability just as he has defended the realm of Westeros many times over.”
Tyrion looked at her as if she had gone mad. “He is a traitor, surely you must see that.”
“He is the King in the North now, he will rule with me from Winterfell.” She felt Jon squeeze her hand, reassurance seeping out of the warmth of his palm. “And, he is no longer a subject of the Six Kingdoms.”
Protests were made for several days, coups were close to occurring and yet Sansa’s practical reason soon won everyone over from the common people to Bran himself. Eventually, they were allowed to leave with the condition that they would not be welcome again at King’s Landing or in any of the Six Kingdoms of Westeros.
It had been worth it to see Jon’s smile at the sight of Winterfell and the great lords of the North hail him as their King.
"and in the distance, the light shines brighter, stronger, lighter, longer. the sun, the moon and every star in the sky pales compared to it. the light, it's you, my dear friend."
jaimelannistar ➔ azulasfire
there’s been so much atla talk lately i just had to. i still track #userrowena & you can find my main blog at @cerseilannster
She was born lucky. I was lucky to be born.