#umare

[azrahai]

@umare said: i'd feared i wouldn't have the chance to speak with you again.

GENTLE IS THE TOUCH THAT SEEKS TO COMFORT HIM. her small hand caresses the side of gawain's face, thumb brushing softly at the height of his cheek. she was a dragon, the last of her kind, but all that cruelty was lost in her. daenerys stands amongst her three children, all of them circling around the two of them, as if to provide some level of privacy. drogon's gaze is a constant, studying the man with an intensity comparable to none.

"i would have waited for you, ser," she admits. many had travelled the narrow sea to meet her as she maintained a presence in mereen. this was her last stop before returning home. with an army and three dragons, it was only a matter of time before the targaryen dynasty had returned to westeros. gawain had been a pleasant surprise. amongst a sea of knights who had sought to serve her, his noble nature had pulled at a certain heartstring within. he was like the old stories had mention, he was like how she'd once imagined rhaegar.

her hand slips away from his face, falling to rest within her sleeve. a softened smile graces daenerys' face as viserion stirs behind them. she steps to the side, just as the dragon pushes its snout forward and presses it against the knight. "i fear they've grown quite attached to your presence here, it would be a shame to see you go."

[zakleti]

𓆩*♡*𓆪        @umare​​​         ʚ;         𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐀     : ⠀god chooses who he cares for, and he didn't choose us.

         ❛❛      you shouldn’t speak of him that way ...      ❜❜          frankie shook her head, their mother’s old cross necklace decorating her neck. she couldn’t make herself to get rid of it even though it wasn’t pristine anymore and was made of a cheap material that had no real price in the world apart from nostalgia; being one of the few things left after her.          ❛❛      maybe if you didn’t ...      ❜❜          she muttered under her breath the same way she used to around eric - quietly, but still loud enough to let one know that she didn’t like something. it’s caused a great amount of conflicts before. at least she was in her brother’s presence now instead. a sense of safety she hasn’t felt in a while.          ❛❛      only for a moment, i chose to speak that way too, and look where it got us. turning our backs on him won’t do any good, vito. be good.      ❜❜

[gilmor]

i can't explain this but every time we write or i read your writing, i always hear rory's voice as if i have it playing in the background ?? it's such a delight to read your stuff and hear her voice

pam this is so incredibly kind i just!! thank you!! with all my muses i fixate so much on dialogue ( both internal & external ) so this means a lot. in fact, i often pick muses because i think i can capture their way of speaking or their speech patterns are distinct. it's more fun for me to write them that way and gosh do those gilmore girls have a specific way of speaking!!!

beep beep how's my portrayal

[wrathbit-a]

a city of unrest claws at the edges of his dreams & pulls him into the waking world. he'd like to say his night-time routine is not so dramatic, but it would be a disservice to call it anything but wearisome. sleep comes in small, regretful snatches, fleeing at the slightest shift. more often than not he escapes the hollow graveyard of his apartment, with its empty walls & 𝚎𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖𝚜 𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚙𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚝, to take to the never-ending world of crime & new york.

he will say, just as a matter of pride, that it's due to this lack of sleep & the terrible taste of trauma-that-will-not-be-addressed that he doesn't realize there's another heartbeat. spider-man moves as a ghost does, haunting the corriders with silent steps, clinging to walls & skittering into shadows. he knows there's something going on here. has known for a few days. it was just time he needed . . . time & an understanding of what exactly the villain of the week felt like storing in a place like this. 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎-𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚎. ( seriously, who has enough time on their hands to make that ? don't these people have day jobs ? )

what's a bit of breaking & entering ? aside from the fact that it seems someone else had a similar idea. his spider-sense doesn't even budge before he opens a door just to come face to face with a person. useless sixth sense. ❛❛ well, this is awkward. you wouldn't happen to just be out for a stroll, would you ? ❜❜ / @umare

[greatloss]

@umare. . . 𝙻𝙸𝙻𝙰 𝙿𝙸𝚃𝚃𝚂.

❛ it’s okay to be afraid. fear can be good. use it. ❜

a hollowed - out hysteria has taken hold of this body, age - softened, almost paternal how it cradles him ; familiar. familial. it smells of scorched earth and tastes like rust, red and flaking, an old scab picked loose to reveal the scarred skin waiting patiently underneath. an old man's flesh and bones, emaciated, the walking dead ; five hargreeves, bad person and a worse brother, here lies— lives, always lives. fucking hysterical. “ fear can be good ? ” bubbles out of him almost as a laugh, strangled 'round the neck, the head, the hands, blue - less and gnarled and grasping at nothing, always nothing. he feels rabid, suddenly, possessed, like he could tear out her throat with his own teeth if she were anyone else.

the image itches, curdles low in the stomach, and he takes a step back as if the motion will tear the air between them in two before it can manifest. “ fear clouds the mind, lila. fear never did anything for anybody short of making shitty situations even shittier. ” i'm fucking trying, he doesn't say, watching instead those hands clench and un - clench in a quick rhythm, palms up and far too soft to rip space apart and crawl through it, too young and six years domesticated. he thinks of the old and grizzled form laid out alone on a table, choking on his own spittle just warn his past self against saving the future. five should have fucking killed him himself.

you're never getting out of here.

he lets his hands drop like dead weights, a sigh softening the rest of him, now, turned down and away from the scorch of her gaze. “ if we're gonna get out of here. . . ” he begins, as if to interrupt her, himself, anything. he has no idea. he has no fucking idea. “ i'm— i'm trying. alright ? ”

[7iktor]

@umare said, "so, do you? have all you need?"

back in canada, when he's standing in his bar looking at all he's built for himself in the last few years, it's easier to convince himself he has everything he needs. it's the first time in his entire life — aside from those few weeks he believed there was a future to be had with sissy and harlan — that he actually feels like he has something real, something stable, something for him. there was never space for him in this world before, either because he was nothing or because he was too much. now, he finally has the chance to just be him, no powers to keep him on edge and without the feeling like he's constantly getting lost in irrelevancy, drowned out by everyone around him who was always going to be more than him.

❝  kind of, like, an existential question, ❞ he points out, trying to deflect for a moment, because he wants to say yes. for once, he's the successful one, he's happy, he has a life— and he didn't have that before when he and his siblings first left the academy. he's choosing to be away from his family now in a way that no longer feels like being invisible, because he realized that might be the only way to figure out what he wants, but there's a part of him that longs to be more present in their lives. he's just not sure he's ready for that. ❝  i mean, can anyone really have everything? ❞ he misses his family: both the family he grew up with and the family he chose, but sissy and harlan are gone now, and viktor's spent the last few years accepting that. ❝  but i'd say i'm doing okay for myself. ❞ that much is at least true, anyway. ❝  i like it there. but— what about you? do you? i mean, what's it like, being a mom? ❞

[kuronekyo]

⭐️⭐️⭐️