𝖚𝖓𝖌𝖛𝖆𝖗𝖌𝖗 is a private , mutuals only , highly selective roleplay blog for " 𝖗𝖔𝖇𝖇 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖐 " from the literary works of 𝖌𝖊𝖔𝖗𝖌𝖊 𝖗. 𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖎𝖓. this blog is primarily 𝖇𝖔𝖔𝖐 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖈𝖆𝖓𝖔𝖓 𝖇𝖆𝖘𝖊𝖉 , with a little bit of influence from 𝖍𝖇𝖔'𝖘 𝖌𝖆𝖒𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖗𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖘. this blog has a mature rating for the nature of the content and not intended for muns under 21. personal blogs dni. 𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖙𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖉 𝖇𝖞 𝖏𝖏.
CARRD. (tba) PROMPTS. PROMO. HEADCANONS.
𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖇𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖍𝖊𝖉: 08.24
NOTE ON PORTRAYAL. this blog will be canon divergent , in that robb did not die at the red wedding in his main verse , but rather was rescued and taken to safety to heal. upon healing , he resumes his war while staying under the lannister's radar until he can gather the army he needs to take the north back.
𝖊𝖝𝖕𝖑𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖘 𝖘𝖚𝖈𝖍 𝖆𝖘 ... loss & grief , honor in the face of war , being the youngest one on the battlefield , thrust into war too soon , the struggle of the weight of a crown , revenge , the loss of youth.
RULES BELOW THE CUT.
this blog is mutuals only. that means i will only be writing with people that i am mutuals with from this blog. keep in mind that this blog uses sideblogs for most muses , and cannot follow back from them. you must be following this hubb blog to write with any of my muses.
this blog will be writing heavily mature and triggering content. that being said , this blog has a mature rating , and will only be writing with people 21+. this is for my own comfort , and i will not be making any exceptions. i'm also going to get out of the way that i am open to shipping , but no smut will be written with any muse under 18.
i will be using icons , small text , and formatting of various types on this blog. THIS IS NOT A REQUIRMENT TO WRITE WITH ME. i do this stuff for my own amusement. i base whether or not i follow someone based on if i think our writing is compatible.
this is not my only blog. i also am disabled , and have days where for one reason or another , i just can't be here all the time. i will do my best to make sure that i am here and keep up with things. most of my replies will be in a queue.
i'm open to shipping , but please check with me before assuming a ship. i don't ship every canon ship so please don't assume i ship anything that might be canon. most of the time i'm open to giving it a shot ... but it's best to check with me first.
no drama. it's really that simple. i don't have the time for it anymore , and refuse to engage in any of that. drama , toxic behavior , calling people out. not here for my blog. do not bring it to me. we're all here to have fun , so let me have my space be chill and drama free.
𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐍 as 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐑𝐎𝐁𝐁 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐊 and 𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐄𝐑 as 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐓𝐘𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐋
A Song of Ice and Fire Ships: Robb x Margaery.
requested by : @ungvargr bb.
“The union of House Stark and House Tyrell, though brief and largely unremarked in the annals, represented a rare convergence of North and South—cold honor tempered by warm cunning. Robb Stark, the Wolf of Winterfell, found in Lady Margaery Tyrell not merely a bride, but a mind sharpened in politics and hearts. Their alliance was less of lands, more of spirit.”
silly question time! Robb gets to go to an amusement park! What attraction does he go to first?
He's definitely bee lining to those target games @archaeval. He's gonna go straight there while he's not tired , and winning a prize for his lady. Robb is a flirt , and likes being the guy to get the girl that little gift that they'll have to remember the night. From there , it's wherever his date wants to go. If he's not on a date , he's there with his family so he's still winning a prize for his siblings and then looking after them.
Margaery’s hands stilled, the cloth in her grasp resting against the scarred plane of his chest. His question hung between them, heavy as the silence that followed. She had long since grown used to guarded stares and veiled suspicions—most men believed a Tyrell bloom opened only where ambition led it. Perhaps they were not entirely wrong. Yet here, in this chamber heavy with the scent of herbs and milk of the poppy, she was not only Lady of Highgarden but a woman who had seen too many broken things and had chosen, deliberately, to bind what could be mended.
Her eyes lifted to his, the blue of the Reach meeting the storm of the North. “Sansa is your sister,” she said gently, her voice warm but firm. “And she was… my friend. We were both little more than girls, promised to crowns that glittered more like cages. We whispered to each other when no one else dared listen. I do not forget such bonds, my lord, nor do I abandon them when they are inconvenient.”
She dipped the cloth back into the basin, cool water running over her fingers before she pressed it against another wound. Greywind’s low rumble from the corner did not startle her—he had grown used to her presence, and she to his. “I come North because it is not only Sansa who needs me. The North itself bleeds, and your people will look to you. But who will they look to when their king still carries his wounds in silence? You speak of scars as if they are burdens, yet I see them as proof of survival. Proof that the Stranger has not claimed you, though He tried.”
Margaery leaned back slightly, her expression softening with something that might have been daring, or might have been honesty. “So yes, I will ride with you. To Winterfell. To whatever waits in the snow. Not because I am blind to the danger, but because I believe in tending what others might leave to rot. And because the Lannister had hurt my family too, I too should be dead by their hand, and yet, I remain.” Revenge is a bad word for what she desires, Justice perhaps, it's no longer the crown or sweet little Tommen who perished who had nothing to do with his mother' actions but it was Cersei's blood that began this endless war. “I am wiser than most. And united, we can face the Lannister army on all fronts. You gained the Riverlands to your favor, Sansa the Vale, your brother Jon did the impossible and united Northern lords with Free Folk. And now you have the Reach.”
He would soon feel bad shame for his caution. Though one couldn't blame the King in the North , given what he had just survived it was a wonder he could trust anyone. He'd broken bread with Walder Frey , accepted his hospitality and his protection , and like a fool he thought that would be enough to protect him from his foolish actions. And oh how foolish those actions had been. Would the people in the North even trust him to lead them when he returned? Would he be able to trust himself to lead them?
Did they even know he was alive?
Lady Margaery , Gods help her , didn't seem to mind that his trust didn't seem to run in abundance just yet. Trust was something that you earned , and he had to learn how to trust again in many ways. The more she spoke of Sansa , of their shared prison in the form of King's Landing , it was hard to ignore the look in her eyes that he had known to be reliving an experience. She was either telling the truth , was a very good actress. A sigh came from Robb , that shameful feeling of putting up such a barrier for someone who was trying to help. With more than what he had imagined upon waking from a series of phases of waking and deep sleep. Not only was he going home , but he was bringing back an army.
While he had been recovering his family had been hard at work. There was a swell of pride in his chest. Not only for Sansa but for Jon as well for what they had accomplished. And now with the Reach , they had everyone but the Crownlands. The Lannisters would have no choice but to surrender , allowing them to end this war. It pulled a smile from the man as he sat up a little more , fighting the pain that caused a small wince as he did so. It was worth it though , and much like his father he wasn't one to ask for help in minor instances like this. ❝ I'm not sure I'll be able to repay you for what you're offering. ❞ Or even if it would even be worth it for them in the end. But with the numbers all stacked against the Lannisters , all wanting justice , how could they fail. ❝ But , should we win this. Whatever it is you desire from me. If it is in my power to give you shall have it. ❞ And this time , he intended to keep this promise.
Myrcella’s breath trembled as she looked up at him, her lips still tingling from the weight of his kiss, from the truth of it that had shaken her to her very core. She had dreamed of such moments, of a love that was not bound by duty or crown, and yet here it was before her—dangerous, foolish, but achingly real. His arms around her felt like both a shield and a shackle, for she knew the choice they faced could either save them or ruin kingdoms.
Her fingers, pale and trembling, lingered against his jaw, tracing the line of his beard as if to anchor herself to the man and not the king. “Robb…” she whispered, her voice soft, yet carrying the steel of a Lannister’s daughter who had lived long enough among wolves to know the weight of words. “If you take me now, there will be no undoing it. Not for me, not for you, not for the realm.”
But her heart betrayed her caution, hammering in her chest with a longing she could not hide. She leaned her forehead to his, closing her eyes, letting herself feel the warmth of him, the safety that should have been forbidden to her. “I am certain of my heart,” she admitted, her voice breaking slightly, “If I give myself to you, Robb, it will not be halfway. It will be forever. And for once I am thinking as woman and not a princess. And I have always desired you.”
Her green eyes opened to meet his once more, glassy with unshed tears yet fierce with resolve. Her hands slid from his jaw to the back of his neck, pulling him into her as her lips found his once more, softer at first, then hungrier, as though she feared he might vanish if she let go. “Forever,” she whispered against his mouth, the word trembling yet certain, a vow born not of duty but of the fire that bound them.
This decisions could have dire consequences for the whole realm , and if the two of them were smart , they'd part ways before making a mistake. Before possibly dooming the realm. But , it could also manage to bring the realm together and stop unneeded bloodshed. Marriage had ended wars before , if things went right they could certainly do it again. And when she said his name like that , he couldn't help but feel like this was right. Somehow , looking at her he saw the end to this war , and the beginning of his happiness. Or rather a new chapter of happiness when he thought that was long gone.
Robb's heart pounded in his chest , nodding along with her warning. But looking in her eyes he could see she didn't want to. Looking at her is was plain to see , that they both wanted the same exact thing. To take a chance on happiness , one one another , and hoping that would be enough for the Gods to see them through.
It was terrifying , but so had been going against the great Tywin Lannister , and he happened to be doing better than he had planned. The boy in the North had indeed turned into a man , and now knowing how she felt about him he had the confidence of a King. As she spoke further , the Young Wolf reach for any light purchase he could get.
❝ No turning back , ❞ He agreed , eyes locked upon hers , his hand still their upon her soft cheek. In that moment , looking at her he realized something. The whole time she had been in his camp , he'd been falling in love with her. Each day sealing his fate more and more. Now , when he thought of the woman he wanted to take home to Winterfell , he thought about Myrcella Baratheon. He shook his head , a smile upon his face like he had just heard something funny. Or , rather thought of something funny. ❝ You say as such , but I fear you've had all of me since before you set foot into my camp. ❞ And if only he had realized that sooner.
When her lips met his , strong arms wrapped around her , want and desire filling him as the two came together in their embrace. Forever , she spoke those words , and Robb didn't think that was enough. The frame of the bed hit his legs , just as he pulled away for a breath of air. Feeling her lips ghosting against his , chasing them ever so slightly. ❝ Forever and after. My Queen. ❞
@ungvargr asked:
[tender.] sender gently traces their fingers along receiver's scars. + reverse
The King in the North. Does the title still fit a dead man, even if the dead man is not one? Margaery had requested to be the one to tend to the man and she can see the resemblance with his mother, who he met while she was still Renly's Queen. They both hide now. Her neck scarred by wildfire from the explosion and the world believes her dead, and he. . .Robb Stark should be dead. They said many things about what happened at the Red Wedding. That his body was looted and attached to his wolf' head but both direwolf and man were living and breathing. Margaery's eyes drift to the guarding direwolf, who still looks at her as if she would dare to hurt the man, and she wonders if he behaves that was because Robb himself does not trust her. She had been Joffrey's queen after all. By all means, she would be an enemy. "Scars are not to be ashamed of, Your Grace. They mean you survived."
Her own are covered, makeup does wonders but even then, wildfire cannot be cured, not completely, and some days are better than others. She traces the scars with tender care, fingertips ghosting over his skin before she uses the other hand to press the wet cloth to help him clean them, even if he don't need the help, she is doing it because she wants to. "I am truly sorry for what happened. I was close to Sansa when she was at the Keep. Even tried to take her out of there, marry her to Willas." Gods above, if that had gone through, they would be sisters now and Sansa would have been happy, the polished girl she met barely smiled, and she feared the capital had broke her beyond repair. Even when she had ran away after the wedding with Joffrey.
"Willas is preparing a host to accompany you to the North. I will be joining you as well. I would like to see your sister again very much. Not many are aware that I too, survived death." But it was better no one knew they were alive, as plans had to move swiftly for all to fall into place. Her hands trace the scars again and inevitably, she leans closer to his chest, hazel like eyes looking back at his Tully eyes, so deep as the ocean and she tries to smile, but it barely reaches her own. "My brother often say that scars are a map of our story."
He still couldn't understand how he wasn't dead. How he had managed to evade the cruel dark grip of The Stranger. How he managed to open his eyes in The Reach of all places , it was all not only confusing , but worrying. Did his men even know he was still alive? What had even happened to them. It took days for the guilt to even start to wear down. Milk of the poppy aided in that regard. But it never allowed the King in the North to forget all the ways he had let not only his men , not only the North , but his entire family as well.
And all he could think of was getting back to them.
He had his health though , Gods be good for that. Even Greywind managed to make it from the battle. The question of who he owed thanks to still not quite clear to him. Nor was he very clear as to the reason why. Lady Margaery's presence there was , only a slight comfort to the ever growing confusion surrounding his survival. It was good of them to help him , to nurse him back to health , but it didn't explain what they hoped to gain from saving him. No doubt there was a great risk to aiding him. Should the Lannisters find out , Tywin's rath would be most unwanted. He hoped he would be able to gain some insight from Margaery , if she was willing to at least.
Robb had meant to apologize for his unease. She didn't deserve his skepticism , or the very guarded behavior of Greywind the last couple of times she had come to him. His wounds were healing nicely , most of them already turned to scars upon his body. Soon he would be able to travel , which would mean his return to Winterfell. Robb glanced to her a moment when she mentioned his scars , he tried to remember the last time he worried about a scar he obtained. He could remember his father saying something similar , shortly before the King arrived. He couldn't help but scoff , possibly the first time he had laughed since his uncles wedding. He had grown too used to not laughing. ❝ I always thought I'd have plenty of scars to fill a day of stories for my children someday. I suppose I just thought it would happen slowly over time. ❞
As Margaery continued to tend to the wounds , cleaning the ones that needed the help to heal still , he thought long and hard about not only what could have been for his family , but about what would undoubtedly lie ahead for all of them. Naturally rounding him back to the question as to why help him. He didn't mean to judge , but he'd had his fair share of being betrayed , of things going wrong. The options were just endless. With Margaery though , there was something in her voice that showed that she cared for at least his sister. He'd been so worried for her , even more worried that she had no one there for her until he could free her.
The revelation that she would be joining them in the journey back to Winterfell , his brow arched in some surprise at the fact. If his own travel was dangerous , he could only imagine how dangerous it must be for her and her family. He sat up some , obviously more interested in that piece of information. ❝ You're coming too. All the way North to Winterfell? ❞ What was this? Was this worry for her? ❝ That's a dangerous journey for someone like you. One can't help but wonder why. Were you and Sansa that close? ❞
In another world, the childish dream persists. In that world, her father would had been kinder and promised her to Robb during their stay in Winterfell. She would had been friends with Sansa, as she always desired and been sent North a year before the wedding. During that year, she would had grown to love the boy she crushed on and made oaths to her Gods and his own. She would had been a good wife and give him heirs and spares and hoped the North would love her. In that reality, life had been different, for they were bound together and while she was a Baratheon by name and Lannister by blood, she would have a new family, one that had always been warmer than anything she ever had. Logically, an alliance would put an end to this war. The return of his sister and a marriage to set the deal as her grandsire grew tired with troubles as more Kings came around to proclaim themselves the true king. But he was prideful.
"Logic would see reason be what guided armies and see this end with a marriage." Myrcella points out, emerald eyes looked bright and wise beyond her years. "Logic would say you would have me as Queen and Wife and end this madness. But grandsire would never listen to reason." Perhaps he would listen to rumors. Robb had taken care of her, kinder to her than any other man, careful that no one would spread rumors of her reputation. The Princess remained pure in the eyes of many and so, her value as a bride to be. But Gods be good, as he kisses her, that hunger she felt on his lips, the way his mouth guided hers, still inexperienced in such matters, and a gasped moan escapes her lips at the ferocity of the gesture, leaving her breathless. "Very good. But I am afraid now I cannot be satisfied with only that." Oh how she wished for more, the blush on her cheeks spreads around her features as hands circle his wrists, to keep his hands around her features, and she leans in. "Gods be good, Robb, what I would give for the world to not be what is and for you to ruin me for others."
The two of them could end this right here right now. Both of them baring their hearts before one another , with a kiss to seal love and fates. There had been a thought in the back of the Young Wolf's head. Telling him that kissing her would be a grave mistake. But he was so quick to abandon that warning thought entirely. There lips touching managing to silence that nagging thought entirely. He wanted Myrcella. She had his heart , and to marry another would seal his fate into a life of unhappiness .. but also dishonesty.
For he could not fully give himself to another now.
His mind could only thing of kissing her again. Feeling the way her hands gripped to his wrists to ground him to her. Keeping him but also herself right where she belonged. He could still do it , he could still create some distance between the two of them. He could still walk away before doing something that would change the course of thousands of lives. For the better or for the worst remained to be seen however. Everyone saw him as a boy , always remarking at his lack of experience , cautioning against acting on impulse. But this was something more than that. This was his heart calling out to Myrcella's , desperate to have her before it was all too late.
Then she said it. That small but oh so powerful plea for him to take what they both knew he wanted. All he had to do was reach out and take it. Would this help , or would it be another act of blindness that would doom his men? But how could he deny something that felt more right than any decision he had made. More right than his decision to go to war.
The King of the North didn't think , he acted. In a swift motion , Robb pulled Myrcella back to him in another more desperate kiss. Booted feet backing them up further into the tent. They had their privacy for the night , but the bed in the back of the tent was going to come in handy. Strong arms wrapped around her , pulling her closer and into his warm embrace. Only stopping when they reached the bed , his hands ceasing in their pawing at her dress , though not yet attempting to undress her. ❝ Are you certain , Cella? ❞ Brow furrowed , searching her eyes for her answer. ❝ I only wish to take what you freely give. ❞
Her breath caught at his confession, the weight of it pressing into her chest until she feared her heart might burst beneath the force. Robb Stark did not speak in half measures—every word he gave her was cut from the bone, raw and unflinching. Myrcella had been raised among men who wore crowns and claimed kingdoms, but never had she heard one of them speak with such naked honesty. Not her father, nor her brothers, nor even her grandfather who ruled from behind the Iron Throne. They all cloaked their truths in armor. Robb did not.
Her lips trembled, not with fear but with the ache of knowing. He believed himself doomed to only fragments of happiness, yet here he was, offering her his heart as though it were the only treasure he had left to give. She should have turned away, reminded him—as he had reminded himself—that she was a stag in a lioness clothing of the South and he a wolf of the North, born to houses that could never truly be one. But when his calloused hand framed her cheek, she leaned into the rough warmth of his palm as though it were a sanctuary.
“Then let me be brave with you,” she whispered, the words slipping free before duty could silence them. Her hand tightened over his, her thumb tracing the scars earned from war, from oaths that demanded too much of him. “If all we are given are stolen moments, then let them be ours. Let them be enough.”
The realm might tear itself apart around them, kingdoms might rise and fall, but in that sliver of space where her gaze met his, Myrcella chose not to be a pawn of bloodlines or a prize of war. She chose him—the boy who was king, the man who dared to admit his heart. And though sorrow threaded through her like a blade, she pressed her forehead to his and gave him a faint, unshaken smile. “Kiss me.” She dared him almost. It's not something a princess should say. But it is what the woman under the tiaras wished for. A kiss from the man who had caught her breath and made her blush as a child, who danced with her. The man who looked at her with such intensity now that she had to hold on to him to not fall.
Why did love have to be so grim? Why couldn't things have been different? Why did the Gods think it just for the two of them to fall in love. A love that couldn't be , two star crossed lovers that would have to one day say goodbye. A cruel joke if he were being honest. Crueler still that none of that seemed to be enough to sway him from loving her. He'd tried , many times he had tried to not love her. Tried to see her for what she was to his cause. The time was gone for shoulds and coulds. He'd already spoken his love for her , let it sit in the open air between them only for her to return it. Deep in his heart , he knew there was no going back now.
“Then let me be brave with you,” Oh if he could feel a fraction as brave as she. Seeing her day after day , existing among his men in nothing more than a pride that he actually found more compared to Robert himself. Many compared her to her mother , of that he could be certain. He couldn't say she had the same air that her mother had. Myrcella was something special all on her own. The way her hand rests on his , he wanted to stay in this moment forever. He'd had to settle with enough time to memorize the moment. Even if he couldn't have her when this was all over , he could remember her until he took his last breath.
In truth her bravery was far more than he expected. It only made him lament a life they would not have together. When all this was over , Gods willing he would be King in the North. And as he stood before her , she was the only one he could see as his Queen. She would be a glorious Queen , but a Queen for someone else she would have to be. For now though he could oblige her request and much much more. He'd relish ever moment he had with her , and do his best to not think about the future he'd give anything to stop.
His other hand came up to cup her face in his hands. Bringing her lips to his own at last in a hungry kiss. There was no shame to be felt for the desperation. None when it came to her at least. Something so true , so pure , how could a man find shame in loving someone like this? When he pulled away , his forehead pressed to hers , a huff of a breath but hungry for more. ❝ How was that , Princess? ❞
like this post if your down for shippy memes from robb ,i love shipping as much as the next person , but sometimes you don't know if it's cool to send to muses are not. so if you would like robb to send your muse romantic prompts , hit the like button so i can keep your babies in mind.
𝔚𝔥𝔢𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔭𝔩𝔞𝔶 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔤𝔞𝔪𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔯𝔬𝔫𝔢𝔰, 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔴𝔦𝔫 𝔬𝔯 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔡𝔦𝔢. 𝔗𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔦𝔰 𝔫𝔬 𝔪𝔦𝔡𝔡𝔩𝔢 𝔤𝔯𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔡.
independent. private. selective. mutually exclusive multimuse from a song of ice and fire, focusing from robert's rebellion to the main timeline of ASOIAF. written by cali. restablished jul. 2025. first est. 2023.
𝖚𝖓𝖌𝖛𝖆𝖗𝖌𝖗 is a private , mutuals only , highly selective roleplay blog for " 𝖗𝖔𝖇𝖇 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖐 " from the literary works of 𝖌𝖊𝖔𝖗𝖌𝖊 𝖗. 𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖎𝖓. this blog is primarily 𝖇𝖔𝖔𝖐 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖈𝖆𝖓𝖔𝖓 𝖇𝖆𝖘𝖊𝖉 , with a little bit of influence from 𝖍𝖇𝖔'𝖘 𝖌𝖆𝖒𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖗𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖘. this blog has a mature rating for the nature of the content and not intended for muns under 21. personal blogs dni. 𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖙𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖉 𝖇𝖞 𝖏𝖏.
