At A Friend’s Playing A Board Game — But I Willllll Be Home Later Tonight To Do Some Things
at a friend’s playing a board game — but i willllll be home later tonight to do some things
More Posts from Petitmortes and Others
one thing abt me is … (my) sansa is always gonna have some shit to say.
like yeah she knows not to say things to certain people and won’t, but the internal dialogue ?? the commentary … there’s a reason why the redwyne twins still can’t escape the nicknames SHE came up with for them 🙂↕️
menacing on discord for the rest of the night <3
𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙰𝚁𝙴 𝙰 𝙿𝙾𝙴𝙼 𝙸 𝚆𝙸𝚂𝙷 𝙸'𝙳 𝚆𝚁𝙾𝚃𝙴. a selective, private and indie multimuse blog with muses from a variety of media. extremely plot and narrative focused.
an exploration of nature vs nurture, the doomed characters, the self made prophecies, the anti-heros, the dark academics, the fallen chosen ones, the youth forsaken, the romantic leads.
𓉸ྀི interview with the vampire (1994) ; accepting .
@azmenka said : evil is a point of view. god kills indiscriminately, and so shall we.
the illustrious we. perhaps not a sticking point for others – a minute point not worth ruffling feathers over; but for sansa, always for sansa, did it barb and prickle. her nose wrinkles, distaste and discomfort present on the fine, porcelain features of her face as her gaze flickers up from her lap, where she'd been forcing herself to study the stitches in her gloves – forcing herself to not communicate nor involve herself in a conversation where her tongue would sooner get her into trouble than it would anything else.
she is meant to be a bastard here – she is meant to hold her tongue, and to not recognize maron greyjoy for his familiarity to his brother. alayne stone would not know him from any other ironborn, would not know that he held the same quirk of his lips as theon once had. surely, this, like all of other lord baelish's insistences, was a test; a consideration of how deep she was willing to sell his lies.
her distaste flickers away as quickly as it had presented, gone in an instant, replaced with a cool, uninterested glean as nimble gloved fingers tuck dyed black hair behind her ear.
“killing without thought or care makes you no better than a lannister, no better than cruelty reborn. the gods do as they will, that does not mean you should not hold yourself to a standard, lord greyjoy.”
cold, winter chill – held in her tone as tully blue eyes shift around the room, cursing petyr for leaving her to meet with the man; cursing theon for what he'd done to her home, cursing herself for the way her fingers flex within her gloves and then settle again into her lap. she wasn't arya, she was not strong – she had no fight within her, no capability for killing or death.
“your choices are yours alone, but do not think to act rashly within the vale, 'less you wish to find yourself at home within the skies. i hear the nightly winds oft cause men to consider jumping to save themselves the remainder of their sentences.”
❛ Is that what I should do? Let you go? ❜ pick your poison :>
interview with the vampire (1994) sentence starters.
she had not ever been the type of woman to think she had a right to say what he should – or shouldn't do. it was easy enough to offer her professional opinion, to say that she didn't recommend the way he so often put himself into the bloody maw of danger, that she did not, and would not, ever recommend stabbing a fork into someone else's forehead, or his own. but this was something else entirely, not a professional matter – not a question of whether or not it was safe, not a sweetly spoken reminder to take caution with where he chose to bleed from.
her back pressed to the wall of her assigned medical room for the night, his hand wrapped around the delicate flesh of her wrists, holding them aloft, the stale scent of cigarettes and his cologne wafting into her nose. if lottie had heard his question, she'd not yet graced him with a response, too concerned with the way this looked, how miniscule she felt with him looming above her.
it was hardly the first time he'd had her like this – but she'd tried to ensure it was the last, had spoken gentle words of insistence, that it wasn't right. that men like him were not made for women like her. his existence alone in her personal space would've set her father raging had he known, would have ensured lottie never know the peace and quiet she'd sought out from underneath his thumb. she was trying to save them both the trouble – to make it easier in the end, when mox undoubtedly decided to tire of gentle hands and honey sweet lips.
“yes.” she manages finally, swallowing thick as her gaze drifts to his. “it's – better for the both of us if you do, isn't it?”
i write one thing, i get sleepy, i say good enough and go to bed.
me reblogging more memes as they come up on my feed as if my inbox isn't already double stuffed, i haven't finished my carrd yet, and i still have unfinished tags.
𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒 —- can they ... ... Marry like other girls? Have Children? Be Happy As They Are? ... 𝐖𝐇𝐘 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐍?
* 𝐑𝐎𝐙𝐍𝐑𝐎𝐓 is an independent original character blog for abra aimes, artificial angel, astral projector and lovecraftian horror. 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞 * setting your wings on fire so you may fly, pretending not to love your mother, & looking for god in your own bedroom. carrd.
