theon greyjoy is so important to me on such a personal level I don’t think my irls truly understand the visceral ache that reaches into the very core of my bones from which the marrow grows, the absolute sorrow that rots my heart from the inside out until it is sickly sweet and curdled black. the way I fucking weep and feel my very spirit turning heavy and solid as stone, weighing me down to earth and even to the bottom of the ocean if I were to misstep, to allow it to drag me under and drown me in the darkness where no light would ever kiss my skin again. I don’t think my irls truly understand how much I need to give this damaged loser fictional bimbo whore a fucking hug



















