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hiragihouse · 1 month

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gege really be pulling out anyone to throw against sukuna huh 😭

#all that hype he was building for kusakabe for nothinng 😭#miguel was such a random appearance and Not on my bingo card #can gege stop dragging things out im tired let me see the full yuuji v sukuna showdown in peace 😭😭#ayra croaks #jjk spoilers #jjk 254 #jjk 254 spoilers

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targaryenluvs · 4 months

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SEE YOU AGAIN

pairings: robb stark x fem!targaryen!reader, platonic!stark family x reader

warnings: none!

a/n: i had only two drafts and this was one of them!! might just get back into got/hotd writing! god this was written a while ago

Within an hour you wound up being introduced to the entire Stark family. You especially liked Ayra, she reminded you of Rhaenyra in certain aspects such as her rebellious behaviour. Although you did have to cover your head with a scarf for the most part, your violet eyes were quite hard to miss. You chalked it up to a birth defect and were introduced as a maiden of the Red Keep, returning home for marriage but also a friend of the Eldest three children.

You yourself had never visited the North before, as your parents had deemed it unworthy of being visited by a Princess. But you found yourself growing fond of the place despite its cold nature.

You had also found Nyraxes huddled in front of a bonfire in a near by cave. Surprisingly she hadn’t torched the entire area and it’s inhabitants. You had wondered how the Starks had managed to tame a dragon.

But at the moment you were more concerned about getting home. As nice as it was to be in the area, you found yourself surprisingly longing for the Red Keep. Currently you found yourself dining with the family, the food seemed foreign, scarcely containing any notable fruit or vegetables but Jon had explained the lack of crop in such harsh times, which you understood. You felt uncomfortable, out of place.

Everyone chatted so freely, everyone knew each other where as you were an outsider in every way. Your gorgeous purple eyes in contrast to the ever so common brown and black, bright, striking silver hair which was no longer covered, compared to red and brown.

“Y/n, who are you marrying my dear?” Catelyn questioned you as the entire table diverted their gaze to you. Your face became hot, especially under Robb’s sharp gaze. “Yes Y/n, who are you betrothed to?” You felt like ripping him a new one, perhaps feeding him to Nyra.

“I’ve returned home for my parents, we’re heading up to Casterly Rock for the wedding, he’s a lord but I doubt you would know of him your grace.” Laughs bellowed out around you, Robb loudest of all.

“Your grace?” Robb cried out. “Hush you all. She has decorum and respect unlike most, why mock her for it? My dear, please, call me Catelyn.”

You nodded.

Ed and Catelyn still didn’t know of your real name, nor your lineage/descent. That much they may have been able to get their heads around but you weren’t so sure they would have opened up their castle to you quite so swiftly if they knew of the, as most royals and small folk would claim, “Beast” in the caves.

You sat at your windowsill looking out onto the courtyard as a someone knocked on your door. “You alright if I come in love?” You allowed him in. “Not the view your used to?” You nodded, “I wish to go home Robb. But if what you say is true how can I? All the Targaryens are gone. My Aemond, ended up dead in battle Above the Gods Eye along with my Uncle Daemon. Aegon, Helaena, Her children, Otto, Rhaenyra, Nyra, Jace, Luke everyone. In the history books and life I am forever known as the Princess who Hid. A coward.” You cried as he sat down and hugged you.

As he soothed you Robb slowly raised you face to him, as he wiped away your tears. “Not everyone.” Your head shot up, “What?” You croaked, “I didn’t finish the book my love. Aenys the mad King has two surviving children. Daenerys and Viserys. Although Viserys passed away a long time ago.”

“A-and Daenerys?” “Alive, and well as it seems. She’s been wed to Khal Drogo seemingly pregnant too as it seems.” Robb swiped a stray hair behind your ear as he leaned in, so did you.

-

You woke up the next morning after Robb as his side of the bed was seemingly empty. You prayed to the old gods and new that no one had heard the two of you yesterday. And if they did that they wouldn’t mention anything it. Everyone had broke their fast earlier on in the day as you had slept longer than usual. You weren’t use to having such lengthy nights of rest but were more than grateful.

After dressing you walked the halls with Arya for a bit before making your way to the courtyard where everyone seemed to have gathered for something, it wasn’t long before Sansa pulled you in front of all the people where the reason for the spectacle (rather reasons) came into view.

Robb was laughing loudly before Jon attacked, blade in hand. Robb swiftly moved to the side away from Jon and used his blade to propel Jon forwards again. As Jon fell Robb raised his sword to his neck.

“And you’re dead.”

Jon laughed, “Perhaps you should become a knight brother.”

They’re laughter stopped as you stepped out, fully dressed in your old clothes and determined. “I take it you’re planning on leaving now?” You smiled and nodded, “I appreciate your hospitality Robb, Jon. But if I do have surviving family than I must go to them. Thank you, truly.” You spoke as you walked past them, as much as you wished to stay longer you knew you’re descendants needed your help.

So as you mounted your Nyraxes, you couldn’t help but look back at him.

Maybe, you’d see him again.

#game of thrones #game of thrones x reader #robb stark x reader #jon snow x reader

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glympsis · 6 years

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Well you can hide a lot about yourself but Honey, what are you gonna do? And you can sleep in a coffin but the past ain’t through with you.

Honey was a people person.

She had always been one, from a toddler who had grabbed at the leathers of the pirates around her to the headstrong teen who had ended up on other's ships just to greet the captains who were coming home. She had never met a single person who had disliked her, and if she herself disliked someone, she had never been able to truly hold that feeling for long enough to make an enemy. She got frustrated at people and their actions, but she was usually able to follow their logic, even if she didn't like it. People whose lives were based on the gods were the easiest. Pit Fiend followers respected strength and violence, and so getting them to stand in line was easy. Stag followers were all about Duty, and laws and what you owe those around you. Mad God followers were all about knowledge, and knowing, and working with the information, even if they usually couldn't handle it very well. Moth followers were about wanting, about yearning to be something more than you were, wanting something or gaining something and nothing ever being enough. And Storm Father was about protection. About defending the innocent, and those you loved, and those who shouldn't have to fight. Gods made everyone so much easier to understand, because what the god was often showed through its followers. That was why she had spent so much time with the Pit Fiend orcs, with Rukul and Lagra, with Ayra. These people were all best understood by their deity and their kingdom.

Honey's fingers twisted around each other, the motion of braiding her own hair comforting in its repetition. She sat on the edge of the table in the same room in the same casino this had all started in, watching the movement of the beggars in the streets as the smoke of burning corpses rose higher and higher in the sky.

She remembered how indignant she had been when this all started, the way she'd dragged her feet when her uncle had told her to go with this orc to find the Crown of the Stag, the way she'd attacked Avonici until his spell had been lifted. She remembered meeting Khiva and Lagra for the first time when they were just people beneath her notice and not friends. Before Khiva had been banished and killed and brought back to life. Before Lagra had been crowned and given a kingdom, before the orcs and Redacted and the spiders. Before she'd met Storm Father and watched him die before her eyes.

Honey's fingers trembled as she unraveled the long braid she had begun, and started to braid it again.

"I don't think I can take anyone else dying." she'd said, softly, as Khiva had turned and left, but she was smart enough to know that she couldn't really stop it. She could only stand between death and those around her for so long before someone else stood in front of her. Because no matter how much power she gained, there were still people who were going to jump in front of her, whether she wanted them to or not. She just had to be faster. More slippery. Able to dodge around them before they could become human shields. Before they could become piles of bodies. Before they could become corpses too big to move, like Storm Father.

Her eyes started to burn, and then the smell of burning hair filled the room, the same smell from a childhood of straightening her hair with hot stones and hair stylists who would heat their sheers before cutting her hair. Her trembling fingers had bright cracks of light flicking between them, and her hair was starting to raise up around her face like the natural order was displaced and she was floating.

"I hate this." She said, out loud, trying to finish her braid. "I hate this I hate this I hate this." Her eyes started to water, and like soft rain, they overflowed and started to run down her cheeks. She rubbed her eyes with her sleeve quickly, but the tears kept coming, pouring out of her all at once like a summer storm. She curled into herself and wrapped her arms around her chest, hugging herself tightly and trying to calm down. She didn't want to cry at Kreen's funeral, she didn't want to cry in front of Lagra or Ore or H'caz or Elia. She couldn't cry in the war room or in the plaza or the throne room or the pit fiend pit. She couldn't cry anywhere where others would see it. She was supposed to be the strong and knowledgeable spymaster. She was supposed to be able to stand beside Lagra and look like someone of importance. She had to be as strong, if not stronger, than her queen. She had to know everyone and their motives and predict what they'd do. She had to know things before everyone else and know how to pull everyone's strings to make them do what was best for the Orc kingdom.

Luckily, she was good at knowing what people wanted and needed. She was good at helping people. But she had to be better. And sometimes it was overwhelming to the point that it swelled in her throat like a frog just about to croak. She had so much to do and so little time to do it. So much to achieve and so little strength.

Slowly, Honey sank to the floor, letting herself curl into a ball like a bear cub trying to keep warm. She would be better, and stronger, and more ready next time something like this happened. She would be quick enough to dodge around those who put themselves between her and danger. She would be able to save them the way she couldn't save Khiva. Or Storm Father. Or Kreen. She would be the savior this time. She would get up, and brush herself off, and wipe away these frustrated, terrified tears. She would bear Storm Father's loss like a weight, but she would bear it with a fire in her eyes and with kindness in her heart the way her parents had raised her. No one would see her tremble. No one would see her hesitate.

But first, she would cry. She would let loose shaking gasps for Kreen, oceans of tears for Storm Father, terrified sobs for Khiva and all the Fortuna soldiers lost. She would cry long and hard and loudly and softly, and no one would know.

She would put herself together, but first, she had to let herself break.

#c: sugar #s: third era

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hiragihouse · 3 months

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the new hypmic plushies are the cutest thing ever omg