ϟ that's what jessica said ϟ


she could feel the hole inside her every morning when she woke. the hole will never feel any better, she told herself when she went to sleep.
it hurts so much, she thought. our children, ned, all our sweet babes… make it stop, make it stop hurting… 

she could feel the hole inside her every morning when she woke. the hole will never feel any better, she told herself when she went to sleep.

it hurts so much, she thought. our children, ned, all our sweet babes… make it stop, make it stop hurting… 

how many times have I told you? no climbing.

What did you pray for?

I can’t tell you.

meerareed:


“Who are you?” “No one” she would answer, she who had been Arya of House Stark, Arya Underfoot, Arya Horseface. She had been Arry and Weasel too, and Squab and Salty, Nan the cupbearer, a grey mouse, a sheep, the ghost of Harrenhal… but not for true, not in her heart of hearts. In there she was Arya of Winterfell, the daughter of Lord Eddard Stark and Lady Catelyn, who had once had brothers named Robb and Bran and Rickon, a sister named Sansa, a direwolf called Nymeria, a half brother named Jon Snow. In there she was someone… but that was not the answer he wanted.

WE DON’T SAY HER NAME → a fanmix for a girl with a hole where her heart had been. for no one. for arya of winterfell.
{ listen } { download } { tracklisting }

meerareed:

“Who are you?” “No one” she would answer, she who had been Arya of House Stark, Arya Underfoot, Arya Horseface. She had been Arry and Weasel too, and Squab and Salty, Nan the cupbearer, a grey mouse, a sheep, the ghost of Harrenhal… but not for true, not in her heart of hearts. In there she was Arya of Winterfell, the daughter of Lord Eddard Stark and Lady Catelyn, who had once had brothers named Robb and Bran and Rickon, a sister named Sansa, a direwolf called Nymeria, a half brother named Jon Snow. In there she was someone… but that was not the answer he wanted.

WE DON’T SAY HER NAME → 
a fanmix for a girl with a hole where her heart had been. for no one. for arya of winterfell.

{ listen } { download } { tracklisting }

Needle was Robb and Bran and Rickon, her mother and her father, even Sansa. Needle was Winterfell’s grey walls, and the laughter of its people. Needle was the summer snows, Old Nan’s stories, the heart tree with its red leaves and scary face, the warm earthy smell of the glass gardens, the sound of the north wind rattling the shutters of her room. Needle was Jon Snow’s smile. He used to mess my hair and call me little sister, she remembered, and suddenly there were tears in her eyes.

frompillow:

“Or should I call you the King Who Lost the North, Your Grace?”

frompillow:

“Or should I call you the King Who Lost the North, Your Grace?”

(god imagine sansa at like, nine, trying to pick her baby sister up i bet sometimes arya would just go with it because sansa would’ve been so careful)

In which Bronte sends me stuff that makes me upset and I draw it to spite her

I will never see them again!

T H E M E