hey friendos so i’ve been spending most of my time on reid @baugenius bc my muse for him is strongest and bran and sansa have kind of fizzled out in my head and i’m not rlly sure?? why, but if any of u have modern verses and want 2 follow me over there i will def follow back!! and i’ll be back here when the muse returns ❤︎
travelling to winterfell against the wishes of tyrion and varys she walked the wood. this was her homeland, the place of her people. long ago the starks had sided with the targaryens and because of that they had retained their places as wardens of the north, but standing here in a forest that was made up of white wood and in front of a tree with a face in it she felt as if she was on another world. it was foreign to her — strange and mysterious and dangerous. the creak of wheels alerted her to a presence and as she turned to look at the second youngest stark her expression once again became it’s normal composed state as violet eyes regarded him. “hello.” // @wolfdreamt
the mother of dragons ; with blood of fire and hair of silver ----- he’s heard much of her, seen even more. birthed in a storm and again in the flames, come to the cold of the north ; the weirwood’s eyes regard her, as does he. it’s peaceful here, but he visits for more than the quiet ----- the trees that surround him feel in some ways more home than winterfell to him anymore, the place of the old gods ; visions plague him here, and so often he seeks escape. but not today. today, he wishes to see her, the woman who so desperately wants to be their queen ----- and so eyes of deep blue will find her, curious. “ daenerys targaryen. hello. “
y’all are heathens
update: fast food is hell and i have an interview for a retail clothing job on wednesday
what if you had missed ?
firefclt !
the distinct self assurance of the young boy was glaring , even when he’d caught sight of the grim markings on the side of his face —— a long lasting gift from his oh so loving brother . “ brave boy you are .. ” a simple comment , acknowledging him , hardly a rarity for a boy of his age . “ but you wouldn’t want to tempt the gods now ? ”
hesitance, then ----- he’d never thought to tempt the gods, but winterfell’s rooftops are more his home than the ground he walks ; he’s always climbed, for as long as he could remember, and he’d never fallen. if they hadn’t wanted him to climb, he thinks, they wouldn’t have given him legs. and after all ---------- “ the gods wouldn’t make me fall. i haven’t done anything wrong. “
she’d been expecting his answer to be as such. bowing her head, dark curls fall past paled skin, shielding the young man from her. tired green eyes ran down from the white wooded tree to the layer of snow coating her boots. her mind cries out to know how, to tell her how it happened, what exactly he saw. but he wouldn’t tell her how, and in truth, she wouldn’t burden him with it – the pain is all too real for him without having to recall it forward. exhaustion ran rampant in her bones, not leavened at all by the continued loss. she still thought of her brother, decaying in the snow from what little she could do for him. and it wasn’t right, it wasn’t what he deserved. he deserved to see their home again, to be surrounded by trees and water and earth in a place that breathed life. but he had died in the forgotten wastes of the world. and most of her had died with him.
above her the red leaves shake through a winter wind. the only thing she had wanted was to get away from the cold, and the dark, and the death. but it followed them now. and often times she found herself wondering more and more what was it all for? her heart ached to reach out to him, to provide comfort in a loss that he carried too well. though she could tell that his reserved nature wasn’t out of numbness or a lack of empathy. her brother often acted the same way. his matching green eyes deep and expansive, told of things unseen and the look that she had seen many times on his face matched bran’s now. a terrible knowledge that only he had seen, only he had felt. so she understood – and the boy’s likeness to her brother, just made her want to be let in more. she wished she could tell him that he didn’t have to carry it alone, he didn’t have to be afraid.
“ you should’ve told me, Bran. ” there’s no bite in her voice, no condemnation or anger. she understood his weight, more than anyone, she’d understand his pain too. “ you’re not alone in this, you might think you are, but you’re not. don’t shut me out, please . ”
he’s a hollow thing now, he tells himself ; not bran, not bran, not bran ----- there’s no room for bran, not anymore, not now. how can there be? but he feels it, all over again, and it’s cracking, porcelain shattering, it’s all crumbling ----- i’m the three - eyed raven now, that’s all he’ll be, that’s all he’ll ever be, that’s all he can be. never lord, never knight, never bran ---------- but why, then, are there tears alight in his eyes, why can he feel his heart breaking before him, like it’s never been broken before, like it hadn’t been full of pain and the deaths of so many, like it was fresh and new and untainted and raw, why? because his brother, his youngest brother, is dead. maybe he wouldn’t be, maybe, maybe, maybe, if he hadn’t sent him away, if he’d let him stay. the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives ---- then how, how was he still breathing?
it’s cold, cold as he looks away, that must be why his hands are shaking ----- the cold. he blinks it all away, swallows it all down to feel it all rise, warm in his throat again. he’s not alone, he’s not, but how can’t he be? he’s drowning, smothered by it all, mother and father and robb and rickon and jojen and hodor and summer, even summer. everyone, but meera, meera’s always been there, for as long as she could be, ever since she’d first come north, for him, though she’s lost so much already, lost so much in his name, her own brother ----- he couldn’t bear to worsen it, not for anything. he should have told her, yes, but how? he couldn’t, no, he had to bear it alone, carry it alone, be strong alone, be the three - eyed raven ---------- alone. you will never walk again, but you will fly. he wonders when, he wonders how, he wonders ; this isn’t what he wanted, it’s never been, never, so why? why him? he’s nothing but a broken boy, a boy fallen from a tower.
“ i am, though. “ and he’ll smile, then, something sad and tired, because he’s tired, so tired, he thinks he could sleep forever, but he won’t, because she must be tired too, and here she stands. he wishes, wishes he could be strong like her. “ it’s for the best. “
the snow drifted down and down, all in ghostly silence, and lay thick and unbroken on the ground. it was a place of whites and blacks and greys. white towers and white snow and white statues, black shadows and black trees, the dark grey sky above. a pure world, sansa thought. i do not belong here. yet she stepped out all the same. ⸻⸻⸻ ind. priv. sel. / as written by meg.
Tell them winter has come.
it’s been like a week since i left my job and already this Hellsite is corrupting my sleep schedule again
honestly tho ,, , i’m not like ,,, mad at this season?? like .. . i enjoyed it, for the most part. there was some stupid ass shit, but overall it wasn’t i guess ----- bad for me??
gettin’ down and dirty to the dulcet tones of a dead - inside - bran flakes monologue
i Knew jon and dany was going to happen but i didn’t expect 2 be so .. . fuckin grossed out by it
well this is it, everyone’s going 2 die, bye friends
the starks own my heart now and always xox
