you will wear your independence like a crown

ray/ramona, 23, they/them, heathen. this is not a place of honor — on semi hiatus until i kick the formula 1 brainworm out of my brain

[montmartrasse]

pinned post

hi im ray

i mostly post about Ghost here and occasionally Les Miserables, and just whatever thing i find aesthetically pleasing

for my Ghost fanfics, see my side blog: @aghoulbyanothername

block #unmasked ghouls if you dont wanna see that

[growaglow]

[gunseli]

[missygoesmeow]

A prince in exile here in Hell In midst of sinners flocking up like soulless sheep

(reference: The Two Crowns by Frank Dicksee)

now available on INPRNT

[introspectres]

remember you'll die // remember to live || [prints]

[riqthegoofygoober]

let’s lay flat on our ovoidal mama

[sakuraspoke]

PAPA V PERPETUA FOR ROLLING STONE UK

[xxnoirxx]

snippets of sodo 🖤

i still like this mask a lot 😂

[p-trichor]

Leader in Red for @pumpkinspice-prouvaire

[aromantic-enjolras]

Damn, this might be one of your best pieces of digital art, and that's saying a lot!!!

[odd-vampire]

‘Double-Edged Love’ by Jing Shao for Nasty Magazine

[migatito]

[simena]

Carlo Manieri (detail)

[pihpihpih]

MEOW SODO ( DEWDROP )

[shineonlux]

always a delight watching this man win ❤️

bryan’s radio message had me giggling. because same.

[subaru-copilot]

ANATOMY OF A HAUNTED HOUSE

A young man steps out, approaches and enters through the front door. [...] He spits on the carpet. He's moving through the first floor, breaking and exciting things. He goes to the basement and stands at the top of the stairs. I'm angry at him so I slam the door and he falls down. We can feel his bones snapping.[...] We can feel him being ground up, dissolved and torn, splitting and shredding. I leave the door closed. I close my eyes and try to sleep. The teeth continue growing on me until there is nothing left on me but teeth, and gums, and sinew.

images sources - x, x, x, x, x, x, x, x, x, x // text - Anatomy by Kitty Horrorshow // editing - @subaru-copilot

Post made for the halloween fest (@motorsport-halloween)

[16ozicedcoffee]

“Citizens,” said Enjolras, “what that man did is frightful, what I have done is horrible. He killed, therefore I killed him. I had to do it, because insurrection must have its discipline. Assassination is even more of a crime here than elsewhere; we are under the eyes of the Revolution, we are the priests of the Republic, we are the victims of duty, and must not be possible to slander our combat. I have, therefore, tried that man, and condemned him to death. As for myself, constrained as I am to do what I have done, and yet abhorring it, I have judged myself also, and you shall soon see to what I have condemned myself.” Those who listened to him shuddered.

“We will share thy fate,” cried Combeferre.

“So be it,” replied Enjolras. “One word more. In executing this man, I have obeyed necessity; but necessity is a monster of the old world, necessity’s name is Fatality. Now, the law of progress is, that monsters shall disappear before the angels, and that Fatality shall vanish before Fraternity. It is a bad moment to pronounce the word love. No matter, I do pronounce it. And I glorify it. Love, the future is thine. Death, I make use of thee, but I hate thee. Citizens, in the future there will be neither darkness nor thunderbolts; neither ferocious ignorance, nor bloody retaliation. As there will be no more Satan, there will be no more Michael. In the future no one will kill any one else, the earth will beam with radiance, the human race will love. The day will come, citizens, when all will be concord, harmony, light, joy and life; it will come, and it is in order that it may come that we are about to die.”

Enjolras ceased. His virgin lips closed; and he remained for some time standing on the spot where he had shed blood, in marble immobility. His staring eye caused those about him to speak in low tones.

Jean Prouvaire and Combeferre pressed each other’s hands silently, and, leaning against each other in an angle of the barricade, they watched with an admiration in which there was some compassion, that grave young man, executioner and priest, composed of light, like crystal, and also of rock.

[theladyintweed]

Buccellati gold seashell compact 

Circa 1960 

Christie’s