Arthur And Ashara Dayne 💫

Swimming x The Divine Feminine, by blockschmidt

there are old valyria velaryons everywhere to those with eyes that are willing to see

Daenerys Targaryen

Commission art for redoorlemontree on x(twt)

the lady margaery 🌹

“If you had to fall into a woman's arms, my son, why couldn't they have been Margaery Tyrell's? The wealth and power of Highgarden could have made all the difference in the fighting yet to come. And perhaps Grey Wind would have liked the smell of her as well.” - catelyn stark (robb & margaery the power couple that never was)

the knight of the laughing tree

art ref. under the cut

Might a request a Jaania for the fandom requests? <3

Jaania for you!

"How did you get through the Wall?" Jojen demanded as Sam struggled to his feet. "Does the well lead to an underground river, is that where you came from?

You're not even wet ..."

"There's a gate," said fat Sam. "A hidden gate, as old as the Wall itself. The Black Gate, he called it."

The Reeds exchanged a look. "We'll find this gate at the bottom of the well?" asked Jojen.

Sam shook his head. "You won't. I have

to take you."

"Why?" Meera demanded. "If there's a gate ...

"You won't find it. If you did it wouldn't open. Not for you. It's the Black Gate." Sam plucked at the faded black wool of his sleeve. "Only a man of the Night's Watch can open it, he said. A Sworn Brother who has said his words."

"He said." Jojen frowned. "This ….. Cold-hands?"-ASOS -Bran IV

I wanted to make these portraits of Mercy ( Arya Stark) and Alayne Stone ( Sansa Stark) -which are inspired by Vermeer's " Girl with pearl earing" - because for a lot of time I thought that girl in the painting has something of Sansa Stark and by extension with Arya ..at least in my head😊 I don't know why 🤷‍♀️ 😊

And here’s Arya and her little lip chew

On his way back, Jon swung wide of the column's line of march and took a shorter path through the thick of the wood. The sounds of man and horse diminished, swallowed up by the wet green wild, and soon enough he could hear only the steady wash of rain against leaf and tree and rock. It was midafternoon, yet the forest seemed as dark as dusk. Jon wove a path between rocks and puddles, past great oaks, grey-green sentinels, and black-barked ironwoods. In places the branches wove a canopy overhead and he was given a moment's respite from the drumming of the rain against his head. As he rode past a lightning-blasted chestnut tree overgrown with wild white roses, he heard something rustling in the underbrush. "Ghost," he called out. "Ghost, to me."

But it was Dywen who emerged from the greenery, forking a shaggy grey garron with Grenn ahorse beside him. The Old Bear had deployed outriders to either side of the main column, to screen their march and warn of the approach of any enemies, and even there he took no chances, sending the men out in pairs.