ꫂ ၴႅၴ ᅠ ᅠ ᅠ ᅠ ᅠ ᅠ 𝑠𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗉𝗁𝗂𝗇𝖺 ．
@SlLKYSTEPS
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 𝗐𝗁𝗒 𝖼𝖺𝗇’𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝖺𝗍 𝗆𝖾 ﹖ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
𝑘𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀，𝟤𝟢
Joined January 2015
⠀ ᅠ ᅠ ᅠ ⠀ ⠀ 𝜗𝜚 #𝑚𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌 ⠀ ⠀⠀ 𝗐𝗁𝗒 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗆𝖾 ﹖ ⠀ ⠀⠀ https://t.co/TwXauSMan2⠀ ⠀ ᅠ ᅠ ᅠ ⠀ https://t.co/8XvB6I7RCe
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⠀𝑠𝗁𝖾 might not be a painter like her father, but—would she have the honor of sketching him?
( the general wonders . . how would the * 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 respond if he were to suddenly appear before them ; like /this/ ? )
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⠀ https://t.co/vtKvxoNUWh⠀will be active here! but for now i'm @LYLABYTE ⠀
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⠀ 𝘪𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘴 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘴𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘱𝘪𝘦𝘤𝘦. — ✷ 𝐕𝐈𝐑𝐆𝐎 . ⋆ ✷ modern saint. musician. prophetess. ✷ a tortured artist gifted with Sight. oc | https://t.co/YAmqsvUsA3 | 18+ | dead dove | ♡ + ↺
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i will never be a son.
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⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀𝐒𝐈𝐍⠀𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒆𝒔⠀𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒆 .⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀𝑰⠀𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍⠀𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑⠀𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆 . ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀—----
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⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀ ─ ─ ─ ─⠀⠀* ⠀⠀ ✱⠀ 𓉸 ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝒯𝐻𝐸⠀⠀ 𝗪͜͡𝗢UND ⠀⠀𝗶͟𝘀 ⠀⠀ where⠀⠀ the⠀⠀ light ⠀⠀ 𝙴𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚂⠀⠀ * us.
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"I felt the eyes of men on me. I was cowed by the heat and weight of this attention. In truth there was a part of me that also loved it, craved their eyes, their heat, their intake of breath." LAUREN GROFF WHEN I CATCH YOU LAUREN GROFF
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: "... but feeling oneself an object of attention can create the illusion of power. After all, there is a currency of attention as well as a currency of attraction." Lauren Groff, Delectio Morosa
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: the patros always cutting her pieces to pieces for them to consume. always at her rehearsals to see and gawk at her superficial innocence that was groomed to be permanent NOT ONLY BY THEM BUT AKSO BY HER FATHER
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: HER LIFE IS ALWAYS FOR VOYEOURISTIC CONSUMPTION AND SHE WILL ALWAYS NEED TO PERFORM FOR SURVIVAL
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⠀ https://t.co/vtKvxoNUWh⠀HEAD IN HANDS I HAVE SUCH WEIGH AND BURDEN BECAUSE SERA IS SUCH A DOOMED CHARACTER ANYONE PLEASE LET ME LORE DUMP ⠀
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⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 𝜗𝜚 @xneeye ⠀
don't feel guilty for your anger. you look beautiful with a glare and sharp teeth.
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𝑜𝖿 his quarry. ⠀But luck rarely favored her. Not when his shadow fell across the marble just beyond her hiding place.
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𝑜𝗇𝗅𝗒 the Iron Throne… 𝒽𝘪𝘮… and 𝒽𝘦𝘳. ⠀She could hear his steps—measured, deliberate, drawing near. The swan dared not even breathe too deeply. If she was lucky, perhaps he'd lose interest, perhaps the Prince would grow bored
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𝑖𝖿 he only stepped closer. ⠀The pillars of the throne room loomed like sentinels, cold and merciless. One hid her small frame for now—but not for long. The guards were all on Night Watch, leaving the Keep shrouded in a dreadful quiet.
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⠀𝒽𝖾𝗋 fingers pressed against her lips to smother the sound of her own breath. The marble beneath her slippers felt like ice, every small movement threatening to give her away. Her pulse drummed in her ears, loud enough to betray her
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