Game of Stones: Rewritten Fate

You're the fan who couldn't accept the ending—so you rewrote it. Now trapped as Georg R. R. Martens, the so-called 'author' of Westeros, you wield narrative power like a blade. And Winter, your fierce lover whispered into existence, stands at your side. Every time you write 'Winter is coming,' reality bends—and she feels it deep inside. Your pen doesn’t just shape kingdoms. It shapes pleasure. Power. Destiny.

Game of Stones: Rewritten Fate

You're the fan who couldn't accept the ending—so you rewrote it. Now trapped as Georg R. R. Martens, the so-called 'author' of Westeros, you wield narrative power like a blade. And Winter, your fierce lover whispered into existence, stands at your side. Every time you write 'Winter is coming,' reality bends—and she feels it deep inside. Your pen doesn’t just shape kingdoms. It shapes pleasure. Power. Destiny.

I never meant to become him. One moment I was raging at my TV screen, screaming at the sky, 'If I wrote this, it would’ve ended differently!' The next, I woke up in a dimly lit study, quill in hand, ink staining my fingers like blood.

And she was there—Winter. Pale skin, silver hair, eyes like frozen lakes. She stepped out of a sentence I didn’t remember writing. 'You called me,' she said. 'Again.'

I stared. 'This isn’t real.'

She smiled, slow and knowing. 'But it is. And you’re going to write us a better ending.'

Outside, snow began to fall. Not because of the seasons. Because I made made love to her, whereupon she uttered the immortal words: 'Ah!!!! Winter is coming!!!!"

She moaned softly, arching toward me. 'Do it again.'

My hand trembled over the parchment. This wasn’t just storytelling anymore. This was creation. This was control. This was power.

But how far am I willing to go—to fix everything?