🔥 freckles 🔥
dirt enthusiast

PR's Tumblrdome
Sweet Seals For You, Always
YOU ARE THE REASON
No title available
Monterey Bay Aquarium

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
Cosmic Funnies
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
RMH

No title available
trying on a metaphor

blake kathryn

titsay
Keni
TVSTRANGERTHINGS

tannertan36
Misplaced Lens Cap

Kiana Khansmith

Discoholic 🪩
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Australia
seen from India

seen from Sweden

seen from United Kingdom
seen from United Kingdom

seen from Malaysia

seen from Singapore
seen from United States
@barrowkings-a
🔥 freckles 🔥
good responses to getting stabbed with a sword
wtf
that’s fair
not again
are you gonna want this back or can i keep it
lady barbrey knows how to nurse a grievance.
barb channeling her inner roose
❝ If I may be honest, I did not think you would come, ❞ Her future husband was a man experienced; she knows of his voyages at sea, the dangers he faced regularly sailing around the world. Had she been a little younger, a little less hardened, she would be falling for him... Life had taken what few joys left that young Barbrey had, she had learned to not hold onto things so tightly...
She extends a hand to him, wishing to hold it, to link their arms together if only to impress her lord father. ❝ You look tired, James. ❞ Barbrey muses quietly, pale lips curving into a soft smile, ❝ Dinner will be ready soon, I suspect. Until then, do tell me what you’ve been up to, ❞
@exilesea | random starter!
❤️ starter call – specify muse if ur feeling dangerous or i’ll pick one myself.
❝ Father made a mistake in marrying you to him, ❞ Her eyes are dark, subtle tilt to her head as she looks around the Dreadfort -- lips pulling down. ❝ ...And is this castle always so grim looking, or is that by design...? ❞
@flayeress | random starter ♥
shadowbiinder:
( RED WOMAN. )
hardly a woman to be afraid , nor intimidated ; it took much to have someone such as her trembling within her robes . yet now , her king lies DEAD in the snow , && friends are few && far between – chin angles upwards , jaw set in what she hopes comes off as pure confidence within both herself && her standing . ‘ do you think me a conjurer of cheap tricks , my lady ? ‘ head comes to tilt then , the barest of smiles upon such tired features , it has all begun to take its toll , unsure of how much more LOSS she can withstand . of course , she was not surprise the questions had come , they seldom saw any like HER this far north . ‘ my gifts come from the lord of light , r’hllor , i would not call them MAGICS per-say . ‘
❝ I don’t know, ❞ She responds coyly, hand gripping the side of her dress, sweeping it across the floor as she walks, ❝ That’s why I asked. ❞ Barbrey watches her, intrigued -- clothes of deepest red, hair scarlet; she’s beautiful, truthfully. A mystery to them all; there was something exciting about it, about her.
❝ R’hllor. ❞ She repeats, letting the sound sit in the back of her throat. It’s like a whisper, strong in sound and nothing she’s ever heard before. ❝ Your god is not an Old God, but a god nonetheless. And they are not magics, but gifts. ❞ She ponders this, eyes lifting towards the ceiling, unsure of what to make of R’hllor, ❝ He sounds like a kind god to bestow such gifts on his followers... This must be an Essosi deity, would I be correct to assume so? ❞
barrowkings:
❤️ starter call – specify muse or if ur feeling dangerous or i’ll pick one myself.
Gods, he would be hanged for such a thing -- but a risk, he knew, needed to be taken. A day of witnessing, of observing for potential patterns in the poor girl’s routine, if it could even be called as such. More often than not she stayed in her room; the risk being far more greater. He could be seen, or discovered -- flayed alive, but this was for Ned. A good man, with good children; none of them deserved the horrors that were brought upon their family, and certainly not at the hands of the Boltons.
He’s quick, as silent as he can be. Blowing past the doors, and the guards, not stopping for anything regardless of who looks in William Dustin’s general direction. He would get the girl, take her home -- for Ned. The room is one he knows, seen her come and go; silent while he opens the door, closes it, pressing his back to the door.
❝ Lady Sansa, you probably don’t remember me. ‘M Lord Dustin, your father’s friend, I’m getting you out of here, do you understand? ❞
@onceporcelain | ♥
william, a truly honourable and fearless man: rolling over in his grave bc he cant believe his son and wife would turn against the starks
❝ They say you deal in magics, ❞ She’s heard many of things of the Red Woman, a priestess from a place she doesn’t quite remember where. Strange things are to said to have happened when she calls upon her god ( or gods ), maybe some of it good, maybe some it not. Priestess was perhaps being kind; a witch, likely, better suited her. She was unknown to most, Barbrey being no different, but what she had heard was that she had been in the company of Stannis Baratheon for quite a while... And now he was dead. Was she cursed, or did the fault lie with Stannis? ❝ What kind of magics? Are they of the Old Gods? I’m curious, ❞
@shadowbiinder | ♥
praeludio:
( THEON GREYJOY. )
𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐀 𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄, a child taken away from his family for the crimes of his father and uncles. He once was a prince in that place, a self-proclaimed one, a prince over people who had no love for him and of children that had been killed for his farse to be believed. He once was a ghost in that place, the faded reflection of the man he once was, a tortured creature whose dreams and thoughts and memories had been wiped by a cruel monster. Until the tree spoke to him, called his name, his real one, the one he was forced to forsake. A jump into the void and towards freedom.
He was now only Theon Greyjoy. Himself. Torture scarred his body and his mind, but he was sure of who he was, of his path and of his reasons. And most of all, he was sure there was nowhere else he wanted to be, now that the long night was no more a story to scare children, but reality. He now returned to the place that had been the only constant in his life, for better and for worse. To fight. No matter the price.
« Lady Barbrey. » Alone at the table, Sansa has just left ; the woman takes her place and Theon cannot say she’s a welcomed sight. Not because she has ever mistreated him ( even before, with that other name, she had never mocked him or anything. She’s just a reminder of those days, though. They both wanted to be Starks, but neither could — those were the words she whispered to him in the crypts of the castle. And yet here they are, under the direwolf banner, and Theon could almost feel Eddard Stark’s eyes on him from the higher seat, like he had as a child. He had once been a ghost in that place, but Winterfell was filled with too many ghosts already. « Lady Sansa accepted me at her side. There’s nowhere else I should be in this moment but here. »
❝ You came all the way from Pyke just to swear allegiance to the Starks? ❞ A wry smiles comes to her face, intrigued. He had changed, probably for the better. He wasn’t that scared, meek, little man hiding in the crypts of Winterfell; he had grown, he had found himself. The observation is enough to force a smile to her face -- she’s proud, something she she won’t say aloud. ❝ That’s a brave thing to say, Theon. But I expected as much; there’s no other reason for you to be here and I’m sure Lady Sansa appreciates it all the same, ❞
Back straightens at the table, soft smile never once dropping from her face, as she stares into him. She wonders what had made him change...? He disappeared from the castle without a trace, never to be seen again until this very day -- that was years ago. A spectre lurking behind the castle walls, to come and go at will, yet this time, he was staying. ❝ I’ve known you at a time when you weren’t yourself... I assume that you’ll be fighting? ❞ It’s the only thing they’ve prepared for -- the battle at Winterfell. Bolstering the castle’s defenses, bringing the Northern people to her in a last attempt to save themselves... the deed was honourable, but the question remained: Would it be enough? ❝ I won’t be fighting, ❞ She quips, amused, playful as she leans towards him, hands clasped on table top, ❝ I’m too old and my father never trained me how to do so... I will be in the crypts with the rest of the women and children, and the elderly. But Wyllas is, my sweet boy, I fear for him. I pray to the Old Gods to bring him back to me... I’ll have to pray you as well it seems. ❞
❤️ starter call – specify muse if ur feeling dangerous or i’ll pick one myself.
❤️ starter call -- specify muse if ur feeling dangerous or i'll pick one myself.