e ❥

18+ roleplay sideblog.

[victorsaandvanquished]

main blog: @meropegaaunt.

activity status: inactive. my primary roleplay account is now @ragnaarson.

𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐀𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐃 — an independent, indie, multi-muse roleplay blog by e (she/her). there will be mature themes so minors DNI.

original & canon HG muses.

banner resources by @apocalypseresources & @stelacole.

[cigvrrcte]

by clicking the source link you’ll be redirected to #348 #450 gif icons (  80x80 ) of SAVANNAH SMITH in Gossip Girl Seasons 1 & 2. all these gifs were made from scratch by me, and this gif pack will be updated weekly. you can turn these gifs into static icons but, please, don’t use them in smut rp, edit them, steal them, claim them your own or redistribute them.

( cw: flashing lights, kissing, alcohol )

if you found this useful, are using, or plan to use these gifs. please like or reblog this post !!

[shitedits]

[brolasuite]

like/reblog

[gothboibhc]

cindy kimberly wolfiecindy green icons

like or @/lilypadsgf

[sharpcbjects]

[bearicons]

[gt-icons]

Janae Roberts Icons

‒ like or reblog if you save

[bearicons]

[queenage-deactivated20230404]

Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen in «House of the Dragon» | 1.01

[margoterobbies]

MILLY ALCOCK as RHAENYRA TARGARYEN in HOUSE OF THE DRAGON (2022) T1. E5 We Light the Way

[margoterobbies]

Rhaenyra Targaryen + Wardrobe in HOUSE OF THE DRAGON S1

[margoterobbies]

MILLY ALCOCK as RHAENYRA TARGARYEN in HOUSE OF THE DRAGON (2022) T1. E4 King of the Narrow Sea

[victorsaandvanquished]

Violet Lovelace, the victor of the 73rd Hunger Games, made her way down to the bottom level of the Remake Center, where the chariots for the Tributes’ Parade were lined up. Her female tribute, Finch Crossly, more commonly referred to as Foxface, was already there, donning a silvery dress that did her no justice whatsoever. Said dress was deeply disappointing, because Finch was intelligent beyond her years and intelligence . . . that could get a tribute far in the Games. Sponsors would get her even further, though, and that dress would not draw them in. A flare of vexation rose beneath her skin at that, prompting her to take a walk, to pace the length of the bottom floor in an attempt to calm herself. Her vexation did not fizzle out, instead growing and festering . . . until she laid eyes upon a boy donning a charcoal black bodysuit. At first glance, it looked to be nothing special, but looks could be deceiving. “Oh, hello,” she greeted, looking upon Peeta Mellark for the first time. “Portia’s your stylist, right? I hope you can handle heat.”

tag: @s3tt1ngf1r3. banner template credit.

[s3tt1ngf1r3]

Peeta Mellark would never understand why the fates had been against him. He was so sure that once his name had been pulled from that little crystal bowl at the Reaping, that he wouldn’t last more then a few minuets once the games had begun. The whole ordeal was surreal to him. Arriving at the Remake Center by train, being poked and prodded by stylists, having his face displayed all over the capitol. It was all hazy as if he floated through each day as if it were only a dream.

Standing by his chariot, he gently ran his hand over the neck of the pitch black horse that would pull them into the crowd of people waiting for him. He almost hadn’t heard the voice of the other so lost in thought. Then as she approached his head lifted in her direction. He had not spoken much to the other tributes for they frightened him. Yet, something about this girl was a lot less intimidating then the others had been. A gentle smile pulled at his lips when she made a jab at Portia. The first real smile he had since the arrival on the train.

“Haha she’s a handful that’s for sure.” he said straightening himself out and turning his body more towards the other. “You’re Violet right? Umm District 5?” he tried to recall the district in which she came from. His eyes swept briefly over her outfit confirming his question.

[victorsaandvanquished]

Dark brown eyes swept over Peeta’s form, visibly taking him in. At first glance, he was pretty, but there appeared to be nothing remarkable or out of the ordinary about him. He had a head of barely tamed golden hair, hazel eyes, and a jaw so sharp that the Capitolites would pay a handsome sum to achieve a look even remotely similar. His radiated an uncertain air, though, an air that made him look small, timid. The mentor within Violet would have told him to straighten up, to put on a brave front, if not for the glint she caught sight of when he turned to greet her, his eyes rising to meet hers. Something lay within said glint that she could not quite make sense of, causing her to conclude that there was more than met the eye to him.

Her mind briefly strayed, wondering on the origins of the glint, but before it could get far, he smiled, causing Violet’s heart to skip a beat. His smile was nice, the kind that could light up the world at its darkest hour. “Hm, yes. I’m Violet Lovelace, and it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Peeta . . . Mellark?” The last name came out as more of a question than anything else, because even though she had studied each and every of her tributes’ competitors, commiting everything of importance to memory, surnames had not been considered a priority.

[s3tt1ngf1r3]

The boy nodded his head in response to her question. “Yeah, that’s it!” he said his tone a bit brighter. For some odd reason he found comfort in his last name stumping her. For a long time he felt as though his name was not his own, pieces of him at been lost upon being plucked from the bowl of names. But for just a brief moment there was a stillness inside of when his name rolled off her tongue and dance in his head. As his eyes took in the woman who stood before him a wave of relief washed over him. He would not being going against her in this game and that thought alone put him at ease.

“You won last year right? I remember the beginning of it… you fought really well I hope to be as brave as you were.” his voice did not falter from his bright tone. In fact he felt somewhat honored that she was speaking with him and the way she looked at him did not make him feel so small. Haymitch shuffled in soon after he had said something to her, clapping him slightly on the shoulder. “Peeta they are about to start. Now I want the two of you to look less scared okay? This is the first chance our sponsors are going to see you.” his voice directed at the boy and the stoic looking girl who stood opposite of him.

It was then that his eye caught the figure of Violet. He stood up a bit more straight giving her a soft smile. “Violet, I see you’ve met Peeta. This is Katniss. Peeta as I’m sure you know she is last years victor. She mentors District 5’s tribute. You look well.”

[victorsaandvanquished]

A moment trickled by in which Violet waited to see if memory served and Peeta’s surname was in fact Mellark. It seemed to be, given that when the surname left her lips, he simpered, replying in an impossibly bright, sunny voice. So sunny that a flame sparked in her chest, basking her insides in a soft, soothing warmth. His presence had caused that, had given her a small semblance of peace in a cruel, dark world. Such a semblance was just as good as it was rare, which was one of the many reasons why it was a shame that he could die within the arena.

“Yeah, I won last year, but don’t . . . don’t try to be like I was. You have to figure out what works best for you, even if that means running or hiding instead of fighting. Though, no matter the strategy, trying to survive makes you brave in my book,” she commented, the mentor within her temporarily taking over. The advice, though seemingly obvious, was solid, because even though she had fought tooth and nail, not every victor had. The morphlings from Six, for example, had hidden and waited out the rest of their competitors. She opened her mouth to say as such, only to fall silent when Haymitch and a stony-faced girl arrived.

The golden-haired man looked worse for wear, given that he had long delved into his cups, trying to drown his sorrows, to forget all of the pain that the Games dredged up each year. Violet could not relate to his primary method of coping, but she could understand it. The pain had to be handled, after all, lest it devour him whole.

“Wish I could say the same to you, Haymitch,” she remarked when he declared that she looked well. A step toward him was taken, allowing her to gently touch his shoulder, then, “How much have you had to drink? You’ll sober up a bit, yeah?” A beat passed in which he could answer, then, “It was lovely meeting you two, but I'd best be getting back to my tributes. Do tell Cinna and Portia I said hello, and try not to be too afraid of the flames. They’re synthetic. Won’t burn your skin but they’ll make you look pretty damn hot.”

[victorsaandvanquished]

Violet Lovelace, the victor of the 73rd Hunger Games, made her way down to the bottom level of the Remake Center, where the chariots for the Tributes’ Parade were lined up. Her female tribute, Finch Crossly, more commonly referred to as Foxface, was already there, donning a silvery dress that did her no justice whatsoever. Said dress was deeply disappointing, because Finch was intelligent beyond her years and intelligence . . . that could get a tribute far in the Games. Sponsors would get her even further, though, and that dress would not draw them in. A flare of vexation rose beneath her skin at that, prompting her to take a walk, to pace the length of the bottom floor in an attempt to calm herself. Her vexation did not fizzle out, instead growing and festering . . . until she laid eyes upon a boy donning a charcoal black bodysuit. At first glance, it looked to be nothing special, but looks could be deceiving. “Oh, hello,” she greeted, looking upon Peeta Mellark for the first time. “Portia’s your stylist, right? I hope you can handle heat.”

tag: @s3tt1ngf1r3. banner template credit.

[s3tt1ngf1r3]

Peeta Mellark would never understand why the fates had been against him. He was so sure that once his name had been pulled from that little crystal bowl at the Reaping, that he wouldn’t last more then a few minuets once the games had begun. The whole ordeal was surreal to him. Arriving at the Remake Center by train, being poked and prodded by stylists, having his face displayed all over the capitol. It was all hazy as if he floated through each day as if it were only a dream.

Standing by his chariot, he gently ran his hand over the neck of the pitch black horse that would pull them into the crowd of people waiting for him. He almost hadn’t heard the voice of the other so lost in thought. Then as she approached his head lifted in her direction. He had not spoken much to the other tributes for they frightened him. Yet, something about this girl was a lot less intimidating then the others had been. A gentle smile pulled at his lips when she made a jab at Portia. The first real smile he had since the arrival on the train.

“Haha she’s a handful that’s for sure.” he said straightening himself out and turning his body more towards the other. “You’re Violet right? Umm District 5?” he tried to recall the district in which she came from. His eyes swept briefly over her outfit confirming his question.

[victorsaandvanquished]

Dark brown eyes swept over Peeta’s form, visibly taking him in. At first glance, he was pretty, but there appeared to be nothing remarkable or out of the ordinary about him. He had a head of barely tamed golden hair, hazel eyes, and a jaw so sharp that the Capitolites would pay a handsome sum to achieve a look even remotely similar. His radiated an uncertain air, though, an air that made him look small, timid. The mentor within Violet would have told him to straighten up, to put on a brave front, if not for the glint she caught sight of when he turned to greet her, his eyes rising to meet hers. Something lay within said glint that she could not quite make sense of, causing her to conclude that there was more than met the eye to him.

Her mind briefly strayed, wondering on the origins of the glint, but before it could get far, he smiled, causing Violet’s heart to skip a beat. His smile was nice, the kind that could light up the world at its darkest hour. “Hm, yes. I’m Violet Lovelace, and it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Peeta . . . Mellark?” The last name came out as more of a question than anything else, because even though she had studied each and every of her tributes’ competitors, commiting everything of importance to memory, surnames had not been considered a priority.

[lukaskyle-moved]

CHRISTIAN SERRATOS as Rosita Espinosa The Walking Dead | 11x24 “Rest in Peace”

[victorsaandvanquished]

Violet Lovelace, the victor of the 73rd Hunger Games, made her way down to the bottom level of the Remake Center, where the chariots for the Tributes’ Parade were lined up. Her female tribute, Finch Crossly, more commonly referred to as Foxface, was already there, donning a silvery dress that did her no justice whatsoever. Said dress was deeply disappointing, because Finch was intelligent beyond her years and intelligence . . . that could get a tribute far in the Games. Sponsors would get her even further, though, and that dress would not draw them in. A flare of vexation rose beneath her skin at that, prompting her to take a walk, to pace the length of the bottom floor in an attempt to calm herself. Her vexation did not fizzle out, instead growing and festering . . . until she laid eyes upon a boy donning a charcoal black bodysuit. At first glance, it looked to be nothing special, but looks could be deceiving. “Oh, hello,” she greeted, looking upon Peeta Mellark for the first time. “Portia’s your stylist, right? I hope you can handle heat.”

tag: @s3tt1ngf1r3. banner template credit.