hoerrormovie:

the classic icy stark stare ft. mongolian inspired northern clothing

tumblr messed up the resolution so full view for the non-blurry version :P

apphrodites:

They call him ‘The Young Wolf.’ They say he rides into battle on the back of a giant direwolf. They say he can turn into a wolf himself when he wants. They say he can’t be killed.

alayneestone:

“Listen to Maester Luwin’s counsel, and take care of Rickon. Tell him that I’ll be back as soon as the fighting is done.”
Rickon had refused to come down. He was up in his chamber, red-eyed and defiant. “No!” he’d screamed when Bran had asked if he didn’t want to say farewell to Robb. “NO farewell!”
“I told him,” Bran said. “He says no one ever comes back.”

Stark siblings thinking about each other - Jon, Robb, Sansa, Arya, Bran and Rickon

watcherswall:

(INSP.)

tanaquil:

The winters are hard, but the Starks will endure. We always have.

asoiafedit:

Yes, Arya thought. Yes, it’s you who ought to run, you and Lord Tywin and the Mountain and Ser Addam and Ser Amory and stupid Ser Lyonel whoever he is, all of you better run or my brother will kill you, he’s a Stark, he’s more wolf than man, and so am I.

valyriansword:

Robb, Bran, Sansa and Jon with their matching double direwolf insignia (requested by @raeraet).

#a family that wears matching outfits together, slays together

robbsource:

“Here is what I say to these two kings!” He spat. “Renly Baratheon is nothing to me, nor Stannis neither. Why should they rule over me and mine, from some flowery seat in Highgarden or Dorne? What do they know of the Wall or the wolfswood or the barrows of the First Men? Even their gods are wrong. The Others take the Lannisters too, I’ve had a bellyful of them.” He reached back over his shoulder and drew his immense two-handed greatsword. “Why shouldn’t we rule ourselves again? It was the dragons we married, and the dragons are all dead!” He pointed at Robb with the blade.

fat-walda:

Some mornings Arya did not want to wake at all. She would huddle beneath her cloak with her eyes squeezed shut and try to will herself back to sleep. If the Hound would only have left her alone, she would have slept all day and all night. And dreamed. That was the best part, the dreaming.   //   That was such a sweet dream, Sansa thought drowsily. She had been back in Winterfell, running through the godswood with her Lady. Her father had been there, and her brothers, all of them warm and safe. If only dreaming could make it so…

requested by @thegoldofwinterfell