she can hear the warning in his voice – the low timber that tells her to watch it, if she knows what's good for her. problem is, cora's never really known what's good for her; if she had, she might not have ended up here with him – might have learned her lesson by now, might have realized that hotel rooms with men treading closer and closer to being old enough to be her father held just as much trouble as the boys closer to her in age. but she's never been very good at listening, either.
a deep inhale before she spins on her heels, turning ‘round to face him, dark eyes that linger on his face like a wild animal that’s been caught in a trap. “ she called you sweetheart seven times. ” jealousy's always been her sticking point; always been the nasty, lingering feeling that wells in her stomach each time someone so much as breathed in the direction of anything she'd deemed hers. he was no different. “ saw her put her hand on your shoulder three times, too. that's not hospitality. ”
jaw set, clenching as cora hears his words – hears the threat within them, and instead of slinking away, instead of allowing the moment to die down between them, crosses her arms over her chest. an expectant look settled onto her features, daring him to finish the statement – daring him to make a decision that'd leave them both upset for weeks to come.
“ you want someone who's quiet and demure, you're in the wrong fucking room. ”
this is the game they play , of late. this back - n - forth that adds grey to his beard and another set of wrinkles at the corners of dark eyes. it makes roman feel his age , quiet regard for her enough to silence most , most days. but cora isn't most. she's far from the norm , her lips taking on a pout he wonders the authenticity of. for a moment , at least. one just fleeting enough he fails to stifle the groan when it comes , shaken by frustration.
❝ i’m not jealous, who said i’m jealous? ❞
" never said you were , " is quick , a bite that warns her as sure as it does himself in its echo. insists he calm down. loosen the fists that formed , defensively , on instinct. because her fingers know how to coax his nerves. because he's made this mistake again and again.. wound up with her in one more hotel room , listening to a tirade that can't quite settle as it drops in his stomach. " said you showed your ass back there. " to a waitress who was doing her job. to the prying eyes of several onlookers who all whispered their quiet judgment as they left. " an' you wonder why i don't take you out more often. " advertise a relationship that wobbles day in , day out. what breathes shallow breaths and always feels one false move from capsizing. " got me fucked up , you think that's gonna fly. " | @petitmortes
continued from here , @eyeofvengeance
there was nothing more terrifying than the sound of dragon wings on the wind. of that sansa had become certain. she had not wanted this position, had not wanted to be the one left behind in the wake of a war that was not hers, nor cregan's, to fight. but duty had called the way it so often did for men, and stark - bound honor meant the lord of the castle had gone to do his part – left behind in his stead the only family who had not turned her back . . . or died. it had meant that when the wind had howled with something more than winter, it was no man who crossed the threshold into the courtyard to meet aemond targaryen, but sansa in her quiet rage.
sansa who had sent her cousin's son into the crypts with the maester and the master - at - arms, and every maid they'd been able to find. had insisted she would do this alone. whatever it was that he wanted, she would handle – and none else would suffer for it.
but as he speaks, she cannot get a hold on him. cannot track the train of thought, cannot understand what it is he's asking for in between the pretty words and complimentary syllables. she knows it is something, to hear a man of his infamy speak of forging something stronger than oaths and service – it is always something.
“ forgive me, prince aemond, i fear i don't . . . quite follow what it is you are asking of me. ” her gloved hands interlace together in front of her, a careful flicker of grey - blue eyes across his features, studying the careful twitch of muscles, each consideration even as his voice softens. “ if you have not come here to kill me, or my kin, then perhaps the northern air has done you well in the fraction of time you have drawn breath within it. ”
red curls billow in the wind, cold encompassing the courtyard, but sansa dares not to allow herself even so much as a hint of a tremble now. not when she must be the voice of those who needed her. nor would she dare allow him inside the walls of winterfell proper, not without a better promise of his intentions. “ your dragon will not like it here. ” she says softly, boots shifting upon the stone path. “ even visenya did not fly so far north with her. i cannot decide whether that makes you courageous or full of folly. " or both. those words go unspoken, though the implication remains as sansa shifts her gaze from aemond to beyond the walls of the courtyard, beyond to where she fears for the worst in seeing large wings of a dragon come to life again.
“ speak plainly of your wishes, and i will allow you both warmth for the evening. else i am just as keen to stand here with you all night, it will not be i who freezes first. ”
cont. from here , @br4wl
when she'd asked to spend time with him tonight, she'd wrongfully assumed that meant he'd have no issues making time for her while also hanging out with his friends. but mox had spent the last hour ignoring her, his gaze focused on the television screen, his drinks, his buddies, meanwhile cora had been left at a table a few feet away, alone, and forgotten about until seth had settled down next to her and started making conversation.
it'd been nice to be remembered; to not be subjected to forgotten tendencies, left to rot on the table and wait for him to remember that he'd agreed to her being there. what'd started as simple conversation with seth had slowly transitioned into casual flirting, and though cora had known better, wasn't it also just and fair for mox to have sit through it a little – if he even noticed it at all? it took longer than she'd thought for him to settle down in the seat across from them, even longer for him to actually voice his displeasure, sending seth off to get another round before his accusations were started and directed to her alone.
red lipstick stained lips purse together as she tilts her head at him, fingers curling around her glass, pulling it closer to her as dark eyes roll. “ if i were trying to fuck seth, i wouldn't have waited for you to notice that he was flirting with me. ” her glass is brought to her lips, a sip of the whisky before she settles it back onto the table and shakes her head. “ just keeping myself entertained since i clearly wasn't good enough for your attention tonight. ” the words tumble cold and cruel from her lips, a matching tone for the one he'd used for her.
“ if you didn't want me here, you should've said no. ”
this is a gift , it comes with a price . independent, highly selective multi-muse roleplay blog. featuring muses from wrestling, house of the dragon, a song of ice and fire, interview with the vampire, and more ! minors do not interact. will contain triggering & sensitive topics, follow at your own behest. #PETITMORTES , as slaughtered by mowgli, 28 / cst / she+hers .
who is the lamb & who is the knife ?
SYDNEY SWEENEY. The Puppy Interview.
who else pressed the mowgli button
be honest would u guys hate me if i recast helaena
to add more hotd / asoiaf characters or to not add more hotd / asoiaf characters
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.
she is not the easiest person to understand. something helaena knows without being told, without having to bear witness to the abject horror of the faces of those at court who do not even begin to attempt to consider the depths of which her mind reaches. to them she is merely yet another strange girl, yet another targaryen whose coin had tipped to madness. perhaps she was, but it had not been of her own volition – the dragon dreams had not been something she'd asked for, nor something she'd wanted. to be so haunted was not within the wantings of any girl. but there are moments of respite, moments of ease in the cloudiness she finds worthwhile. this afternoon is one of them, her head less full than it's felt in months, helaena is uncharacteristically chipper, a wide, beaming smile as she spins down the hall, arms laden with sweets from the kitchens, intent on spoiling her maids with the desserts she's procured.
until @cataschism catches her wrist, and guides her back gently to the wall instead, desserts spilled onto the floor and sidestepped as wide amethyst colored eyes fall onto his features.
“ aeg – ” no ability to answer, her lips caught just as soon as they'd begun to form his name by his descending and pressing swift. in an instant, the sweets are long forgotten on the floor, her hands busied as they curl into the collar of his doublet and then into his hair. it is not until he has kissed the very breath from her lungs and left her gasping for it that she manages to remember herself, her forehead rested against his as kiss - swollen lips rest mere centimeters away, and pull into a gentle smile. “ good afternoon to you too. ”
HANNAH DODD as FRANCESCA BRIDGERTON Bridgerton Season 3 Part 1
lacking the brain bandwidth to write tonight — but friday is my day off from work so i’ll plan to catch up on things here then <3