Latest Posts by petitmortes - Page 2
her mother had always said she was made for dancing. made for more than harsh winters with little sunlight. and in this moment, sansa looks every part the graceful lady, not a single curl out of place – each step taken in fluid movement that looked so effortless. perhaps, too, it did not hurt that she had every reason to want to look like such an imagine, that sansa, in her effortless state, had put in more effort than she can recall ever having cared for previously . . . for the sake of not looking the fool when it was his careful hands that spun her 'round the room.
her brows furrow momentarily, felt off guard by the idea that he had thought she wouldn't be kind to him – delicate fingers placed upon his shoulder as they step in time with one another, sansa's head shakes ever so slightly, just enough to relay her own momentary thoughts. “ . . . whatever whispers cregan has been telling you of me being unkind, i hope you know he is jesting and only spreading such unseemly words because i said he shouldn't have a third helping of desserts if he wished to continue to fit into last winter's breeches. ”
her cheeks flush along the apples at the admission, her relationship with her cousin ever more akin to that of a sibling – ever more apparent that he remained the only family she had left with her own brothers, who had never managed a kind or caring word of her, rotting away in the wolf's den along with her father. better not to think about who had put them there, even better to not consider why they were there at all. sansa wonders, momentarily, if it had been cregan saying such words to jacaerys at all – and if he had been, whether her name had often been a topic between them. and if it had, did that mean the prince might have considered her as often as she had him?
“ you are most deserving of kindness from all, don't you think? ” she asks, a gentle smile curled onto her lips. “ i think i would have to disagree with anyone who said differently, you have been nothing but kind in return to me, i – fear i will be most heartbroken when you leave. ”
Jacaerys blinked, startled by the question that pulled him from his thoughts. He hadn't meant to let the silence stretch so long between them, yet something in Sansa's quiet presence had drawn him inward. Jacaerys extended his hand, bridging the gap between them. Her hesitation was brief, her fingers slipping feather-light into his.
Her hand squeezed his lightly, a gesture meant to reassure, to tell him that her words had been in jest, that she wouldn’t have accepted if she hadn’t wanted to. He could feel the slight tension in her grip, the unspoken thoughts that swirled just beneath the surface.
Sansa, always poised, always graceful, but never without a careful guard around her heart. He wondered if she felt the same stirrings of uncertainty that had begun to grow in him, or if this, for her, was merely another polite moment, soon to be forgotten. At her question, though, his gaze softened. “Troubling?” He almost laughed but held it back, not wanting to misstep in this delicate exchange. “No, Lady Sansa. Nothing troubling. I just... hadn’t expected your kindness.” The words felt weightier than he'd intended, but he didn’t pull them back.
Sihtric Kjartansson
The Last Kingdom / Season Four
Lotte Verbeek as Giulia Farnese in The Borgias 2.01 The Borgia Bull
↪ 𝑺𝑬𝑻𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑻𝑺 , HISTORICAL 〳 FANTASY edition ! ( a collection of 25 settings based upon the period 〳 fantasy genres ; meant to inspire drabbles or be used as prompts . WILL be updated . )
001. the interior of an elegant carriage .
002. seated at a large dining table set with an elaborate meal .
003. the shadowy corner of a lively tavern .
004. the top of a light house during a raging storm .
005. along the dimly lit corridor of a large manor .
006. the damp , dark brig of a pirate ship .
007. the ruins of an ancient structure lost to time .
008. a theater hall brimming with attendees .
009. the bustling streets of a market town .
010. a sun - drenched vineyard .
011. along a boardwalk overlooking the sea .
012. a moonlit cemetery full of weathered graves .
013. on horseback , deep in the woods .
014. a luxurious drawing room smelling of tea .
015. a sprawling dragon roost , hidden atop craggy mountain peaks .
016. a war - torn battlefield .
017. a beautiful cathedral bustling with churchgoers .
018. within a crammed opera box during a performance .
019. an elegant tearoom serving afternoon refreshments .
020. a lakeside pavilion on an especially hot day .
021. a sprawling network of underground catacombs .
022. a hidden glade in the middle of the woods .
023. the deep , dark dungeon of a castle .
024. a market square full of fruit and fineries .
025. a baker's shop smelling of wonderful pastries .
026. the quiet stables of a large estate .
027. on the outskirts of a magnificent water fountain .
028. in a dimly lit library , hidden amongst the books .
029. among the high walls of a hedge maze .
030. at the front desk of a warm , homey inn .
031. under the protection of a gazebo as it rains .
032. on the landing of a busy train station .
033. a gambling hall alight with raucous laughter and drink .
034. a pristine infirmary , mostly empty .
035. on board a huge ship making a long voyage .
+ 20 more setting prompts : 6 / 01 / 2024
036. in a sunlit garden adorned with blooming flowers .
037. at the edge of a serene forest lake under a starry sky.
038. within a quiet corridor of a castle during a lavish ball .
039. in a bustling blacksmith's forge , sparks flying .
040. on a rocky cliffside overlooking a vast ocean .
041. in a quaint village square during a festival .
042. within a secret chamber hidden behind a bookshelf .
043. in the grand atrium of a luxurious hotel .
044. along a narrow brick alleyway in a crowded town .
045. within a busy marketplace in a desert town .
046. on a tranquil beach at sunrise .
047. in a cozy cottage with a crackling fireplace .
048. at the helm of a majestic airship soaring through the clouds .
049. in a grand library filled with ancient tomes .
050. on a bustling harbor dock as ships come and go .
051. within a magical forest where the trees glow softly .
052. in an apothecary's shop filled with herbs and potion .
053. at a secluded cabin by a dangerously quick river .
054. within the opulent throne room of a powerful ruler .
055. in an enchanted glade where fairies dance in the moonlight .
i write one thing, i get sleepy, i say good enough and go to bed.
a plotted starter for @foulrests
trouble had never been shy about finding her, about weaving its way into her life through one avenue or another. more often than not, the trouble came from her own doing – a consequence of her own actions, consequence of the brash, reckless behavior that she was known for. perhaps a better mannered lady would not have taken his words as an invitation, would not have considered them part slight – part question, a subtlety of whether she would take the bait. alysanne had never known when to back down from a challenge, even one that . . . was not so readily spoken, one that had come from so high up the ranks of royalty. but royal blood mattered little to her; royalty mattered for politics, for family names. neither of which alysanne would ever find herself bringing to the table.
it had begun simply enough. an unanswered letter, an indignation to check in on the blackwoods of raventree hall by the dragonlord of harrenhal, a supsicious look held in a color of purple aly couldn't find the right name for. pretty would merely have to suffice. but when benji had grown tired of playing little lord, stifled and too hot – she'd not condemned him to staying, had keenly motioned for the maester to take him to the kitchens for a snack whilst she herself had taken daemon to tour the grounds. that was how they had found themselves here, alysanne with her back braced against a sturdy wooden fence, watching with keen archer's eyes as he'd made commentary about this and that. willing to allow him to continue blowing smoke from his lips until she'd heard what'd sounded like reason enough to prove him wrong. to prove otherwise. an offhanded comment about how she must only know how to handle a bow and arrow.
black curls billow down into her face in the half second it takes her to cross the distance between them and sweep his legs out from underneath him, sending him flat to his back – with aly quick to press him further to the ground, knees settled to either side of him in the dirt, a dagger pulled from within her boots to press to his neck. “ i can manage a blade well enough too. ”
Hannah Dodd as Francesca Bridgerton in BRIDGERTON (Season 3)
the disappointment that lingers from him makes her cheeks flush, worry and trepidation for not being good enough; for not managing to say the right thing at the right time that leaves her flighty and measured. a quick nod, wide - eyed gaze that watches with the keen sense of a prey animal. “ a pleasure, erolith. ” consideration for extending out a finely gloved hand, before she realizes she does not wish to be touched – does not wish to offer herself belly up, just in case. “ it has been some time since anyone just called me sansa. ”
@petitmortes, cont.
" perhaps you are right. " the sigh that response spurs sounds more disappointed than anything else. the nature of formality is reserved for idle chatter over round tables and bustling festivities ... head bows forward slightly, hand moving to press to chest absently just above heart. it had been some time since he had held title, longer since he had felt inclined to uphold the formalities of courts. " dare i request you simply refer to me as erolith. "
@50yds said: you were right there ! don't tell me you did nothing !
the guilt rattles in her chest. a trembling hand curled around her bow, an attempt at steadying herself as she steels herself to meet her nephew's gaze. she'd told herself she would not cry in front of him, that she would be the adult presence he'd needed – the unwavering rock he'd undoubtedly need in the wake of hearing of his father's death. but she'd not been prepared to hear him accost her so. deservedly, alysanne decides – her arrow too late to save her brother's life, his child now left to her; and who was she, but barely old enough to be considered a woman herself?
the shaky exhale that precedes the heavy footfalls of her boots across the floor is one she hopes he does not hear, her hand pressing out onto his shoulder. “ i did all that i could do, benji. ” lips made into a thin line, a chant in her head over and over again that she would not cry. “ an eye for an eye, lord bracken no longer breathes. i – should have been quicker. ” it was not often that aly admitted to her own faults, that she took measure to state her own faults, but now was as good a time as any. for the only person who would ever deserve to hear them.
“ i'm sorry. ” a sniffle, before she brushes the back of her hand against her cheeks, and muscles benjicot into her arms for a hug, whether he is willing or not. “ if it is your wish, i will slaughter every last bracken until my fingers bleed. ”
Send "What if they kissed?"
and I'll write a scene where our muses kiss, even if they aren't shipped together. it is it's own thing and doesn't have to lead to an official ship. a "what if scenario"
having brain thoughts on switching my alysanne fc to em.ily ba.der
idk … if ur concerned about blogs that may write content that doesn’t give you the warm and fuzzies this may not be the blog for you
idk what i’m doing w my hand but we sleepy today.
Later, while Sansa was off listening to a troupe of singers perform the complex round of interwoven ballads called the ‘Dance of the Dragons’ …
- Eddard VII, AGOT
hotd the musical is an in universe thing confirmed. is the dance of dragons westeros’ hamilton? did grrm just foreshadow hamilton here?? rhaenyra is the alexander hamilton. aegon ii is the aaron burr. it was written by ser ilyn manuel myranda.
oh my god. aemond targaryen miku binder.
Send "What if they kissed?"
and I'll write a scene where our muses kiss, even if they aren't shipped together. it is it's own thing and doesn't have to lead to an official ship. a "what if scenario"
i did some writing today. managed an icon border i don’t hate finally. also touched up my hair so i’m not all faded anymore — perhaps i am choosing to struggle less now???
@ach1llean said: whatever you desire, it's yours.
oh, how desperately she wants to believe him. to allow herself to be taken under by the daydream loras and margaery present her with, of highgarden – of their older brother, willas, kind and sweet. but where there should be hope, there is tentative uncertainty. fear. worry. continuously etched into the fine features of her face to the point that sansa looks more akin to a fawn than she does a wolf. she exhales a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, her lips forming a smile that does not reach her eyes as she rests her hand upon his arm. “you are very kind to say so.” gentle, dismissive words as she steps further down the garden path.
“ i am very appreciative of . . . everything your family has offered me, ser loras. ” but she worries. but sansa knows cersei will not merely allow her to leave. even once margaery was made queen, the rot would still remain – joffrey would still exist, no matter how tempered he made himself out to be; and cersei . . . sansa feared for the aftermath of the queen mother finding out she no longer held enough sway with her son.
“ i am afraid that – perhaps you all might be overestimating the amount of trouble i am worth. ” she says plainly, an admittance that had been a long time coming. was there not a reason robb had not come for her? that in the time before he'd been betrayed, he had not thought so much to set his sights to her. it was her fault that their father had died – her fault that he'd taken the position with robert baratheon in the first place. an incessant amount of begging that'd led to her father begrudgingly allowing her betrothal to joffrey. maybe she had simply earned her place here, had earned the mistreatment and misfortune.
“ i would not want to cause any hardships for margaery's marriage. ”
@foulrests said: rumor has it, i make you nervous / laena & sansa.
she feels the air physically leave her lungs. stark grey eyes widened at the speed with which laena had merely . . . appeared before her, stealing breath from her lungs in a way that sansa wished she could say only had been caused the way silvery curls had bounced to life in the dimly lit hall before her. and certainly not because they were attached to someone so devastatingly pretty.
her mouth feels dry, her hands wrought together behind her back for a moment as she manages to find her courage to speak. “ who . . . said that? ” an awkward laugh, stunted as she tucks a few stray red hairs behind her ear and finally manages to look laena in the eyes. “ i am not – you . . . do not make me nervous, lady laena. ” but even as the words pass through her lips, sansa's cheeks are flushing a light shade of pink, ever made more noticeable across the light porcelain of her skin.
“ perhaps they merely heard me mention that i am nervous of dragons. ”
she quiets for a moment, contemplation writ between her brows before she sighs, soft – sweet and airy. “ aloneness does not always beget a lack of formality, i – would you prefer i call you something else? ”
hand raises, palm poised flat as if urging silence - it's far from the case, however, which becomes quite apparent with the idle soften of features. " there is no need for such formality. we are alone, after all. "
@devilslvl said : "you are spending WAY too much time with that guy." to liv.
it takes a certain level of patience, to not immediately find herself annoyed at the accusation that rests in between his words. a level of patience liv has crafted, if not altogether perfected over the past couple of years in dealing with the man that was maxwell jacob friedman. rules for thee but not for me hadn't always been a sticking point, but as of late . . . some things were apparently better left unmentioned.
liv takes another sip of her coffee, allowing warmth to wash down a tired throat, warming vocal chords as she clears the cobwebs from herself and casts her gaze up at him. “ it's just work, max. ” an easy shrug of her shoulders, something out of her control, something liv couldn't exactly change. and maybe, just maybe, there was a part of her that didn't want to. how many times had she begged him to stop talking to other girls? to stop flirting with women on television only to find herself embarrassed once more when he had his face in someone else's breasts. revenge was a dish best served cold.
“ don't tell me you're jealous. ” she says with a laugh, dismissive as she sets her mug down on the counter and leans closer to him, an almost teasing curl of her lips. “ big, bad, mjf . . . jealous of little daddy dom? surely not. "
a plotted starter for @sunfyred
for the longest time, sansa had thought this day would never come. her position in the north had changed the day her father was imprisoned, her freedom no longer a matter that rested in his hands, but rather in the hands of her cousin, cregan. bennard stark's plotting had not ceased at just holding onto the lordship of house stark, but rather had extended far greater than his nephew could have ever imagined – a matter that had been kept quiet and secret still. long had he sought power and glory, long were the lengths he was willing to go to achieve it, even if it had meant sending his only daughter from winterfell's halls. she'd been raised as was befitting a highborn lady, prim – proper, exceptionally well - behaved when her brothers were not teasing her or drawing her ire, made into the perfect offering of a wife to viserys targaryen's firstborn son.
it'd taken an extended effort to free her from winterfell, a jointed effort between sansa's own lady mother and the hightowers, a planned trip to visit her mother's family in karhold, wherein sansa and lady margaret had boarded a ship and sailed from the shivering sea to blackwater bay. it'd not been an easy journey, so many days on board a ship that she swore her stomach had turned as often as the tides, but she had survived it. had survived the uncertain eyes at the port – and had been far more thankful than she had ever been when her feet had touched sturdy, dry land.
but if she were meant to feel less nerves, her stomach had not received the memo; freshly bathed and fed, dressed in a soft grey gown of lace and velvet, sansa had been directed into the throne room, directed forward to stand underneath the watchful gaze of far too many eyes. she hadn't known much of her husband - to - be; rumors from the south did not oft travel well north, and save for what her father had allowed her to know of aegon – that he was a handsome, targaryen king, named after the conqueror himself – she'd come into the room as uncertain and unsure as one could have possibly been.
good manners dictate that she sink into a bow, a graceful curtsy with steel grey hues downturned to the floor; she counts seconds in her head, soft, delicate numbers, until she finally exhales a breath and stands tall once more, allowing her eyes to flicker up from the floor to land on the man who sits the throne before her. her heart skips a subtle beat, a gentle flush of pink settling across the apples of her porcelain cheeks – the letters hadn't been wrong about aegon being handsome. his eyes a shade of purple that sansa longed to get lost in, the expression on his features one she cannot precisely read, but one she finds herself all the more intrigued by.
a smile curls onto her lips, warm and sweet, as her hands smooth out the skirt of her gown. “ it is a pleasure to meet you, your grace. although i fear my father's words may have . . . downplayed certain aspects of the capital. ”
y’all: here are my other blogs.
me: crawling across time and space to follow them no matter the fandom
HANNAH DODD as FRANCESCA BRIDGERTON Bridgerton Season 3 Part 1
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.
having multiple characters i need to lore dump on bc i adopted their entire house but brain is brain and it’s a sunday night and i need to re-dye my hair