i am no hector of troy. the gods of olympus won't keep my corpse clean until my father comes pleading. my gods are the earthworms writhing beneath me and the gift—giver gaia, who strips my bones of their flesh and whispers softly as she feeds me to her children, "lie still."
sapphira ... i do not recall ever hearing such a name. though a woman such as yourself , must be a lady of high-birth , count me a fool to suggest otherwise.
do you need a man to do everything for you , blackwood ? of course , ale is all i have , along with many a question as to why you are keen on the idea that i've bedded no woman.
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𓆝ຼ. ⿻ @LETTERSOFSORROW
" show me how great is your will to survive. " for this life is not for the weak of will or mind , he added to himself without the sounding of his tongue. he watched the girl with a questionable
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gaze , doubting her presence and what it meant for the future. yet still , he longed not to see her perish before him. no one truly deserved such a fate.
ً
𓆝ຼ. ⿻ @LETTERSOFSORROW
" show me how great is your will to survive. " for this life is not for the weak of will or mind , he added to himself without the sounding of his tongue. he watched the girl with a questionable
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ً
𓆝ຼ. ⿻ @daneistes
" when does a man become a monster ? " the question felt much like a double edged sword pressed against his throat. the answer , however , stared him bloody within the eye as he watched the infamous
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kraken with an unwavering stare that felt colder than the deep rivers of his home. he was prodding , poking the beast , waiting to see what could provoke such a man.
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𓆝ຼ. ⿻ @daneistes
" when does a man become a monster ? " the question felt much like a double edged sword pressed against his throat. the answer , however , stared him bloody within the eye as he watched the infamous
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ׄ ⋆.˚ ً 𓇼 an independent portayal of ser kermit of house tully. house of the dragon fandom. siding with team black. strongly based head canon version of character. character & writer are both 21+ / no minor interactions allowed.
i am no hector of troy. the gods of olympus won't keep my corpse clean until my father comes pleading. my gods are the earthworms writhing beneath me and the gift—giver gaia, who strips my bones of their flesh and whispers softly as she feeds me to her children, "lie still."