Wdym he has killed so many people???? Look at him he's so adorable
he's innocent, your honor
he's too baby to hurt a fly
(jk he totally killed them and looked hot as fuck doing it 🙃)
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book jaime lannister is the funniest boy because from birth he’s constructed a grand narrative in his mind that he is the perfect knight to his sister-wife’s perfect maiden, a relationship that exists solely to fuel their mutual narcissism and help him cope with his chronic identity crisis/trauma, only to see a buff girl naked for the first time and come to the subconscious realization that it’s actually HIM who is the maiden to brienne’s knight and proceeds to spend the rest of their trip using preschool tactics of annoying her to death so that she can notice him and sweep him off his feet (it works)
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So this is it, that's how it ends
I guess there's nothing more romantic than dying with your friends
ah yes, the happy soft vibes for the @sillylovesongsfest, you get it...
based on the assigned prompted song Till Forever Falls Apart by Ashe and FINNEAS, as well as this
for an even sadder and bloody version look under the cut <33
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Announcing: Haunted Holy and Divine
Azriel lived closer than most.
True shadow, true ice, true unmoving mountain stone. He walked the realm of whispers and long ago forgotten secrets more than he ever had the Court of Night. The dead held onto to nothing but their stories, their songs, their singular driving desires, and in that too, Azriel belonged more in their pitch black cold than the waking world.
The Court of Dreams.
It had meant something, once, to serve the Dreaming Throne.
A hope a hundred voices warned him was wrong, would not last, would not linger- long before his own dreams filled with innocent screams, Azriel had known goddamn well he’d sold his soul to the wrong man.
Five centuries and fifty years in a cage without the sky, he knew every secret of the City of Starlight. Everything that haunted his High Lord. Every way out, every way in, every wasted excess, useless crime, hollow benediction.
Every bruise, on Nesta Archeron’s immortal body.
Frigid winter without end, frost so very thick. Black bruises on her pale skin, lavender light when the sun hit her, cool as a corpse. Death could not hide her beautiful face from Azriel, no matter how she tried.
Maybe he had never had a soul to sell at all, but Azriel had never forgotten his first god.
Would never forget, how those of his own number had treated her.
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god i watch the youngblood chronicles ONE TIME and now I can’t listen to any song from save rock and roll without thinking about the guys all covered in blood and being hunted down by patrick
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