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REALLY OBVIOUS HEADCANONS | @crowingwolf
i’m not sure if you know this ‘cause many people overlook it but Viserion is actually a creature we call a ‘ DRAGON ‘. George describes these creatures as winged, scaled beasts that can breathe fire. the absolute madman.
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crowingwolf replied to your post “Ѡ”
( ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) oh )
it is too cold to get naked in the north, do not get any ideas, snow.
crowingwolf replied to your post: i redid my theme finally n i dont...
(ahhh it’s beautiful! you should be proud ♥)
tysm omg <3
crowingwolf replied to your post: ❛ Who did this? ❜
(GOODBYE, HERE LIES LOKI, MURDERED BY FEELS)
ITS 4AM AND IVE BEEN SO EMO ABOUT THEM
Bran peeked out from his window, observing the skies as it darkened due to nightfall. It was expected, after all that was how the days rolled on by during each passing; where the sun ( obscured through the accumulated clouds oftentimes ) had risen, was inevitably expected to fall and invite the blanket of darkness to obscure what was visible in the atmosphere overhead. It was the same old thing. Most of the benefits he reeled in from observing the skies was brief entertainment, but as everything had died down and the only apparent thing moving were the night guards down below, he found himself bored.
Thoughts arose in his mind, to ponder along the idea of sneaking out again as he usually did. There were moments he had been spotted, there were moments he succeeded in slipping through. The latter was a goal oft attained which ensued a positive notion that things would eventually befall in his favor.
A talent he had well under his grasp was to climb. So, that he did. His descent out the window to his room to down below was easy with the scalable walls. He found his way each time he climbed, which was most days and nights. With fingers clasped onto each crevice near his grasp, it was not long until he reached the ground. A soft thump emanated when his footing was rather higher than typically. This was no time to be careless, though.
The second youngest Stark began to slip around carefully. As he was about to sneak into a decent passageway that left him unnoticed, he was surprised to see one of his brothers -- well, bastard brother -- out, as well.
He closed off the distance with quick, brisk footfalls; soft enough to prevent a lot of noise that would reel in attention, and quick enough to prevent detection from those guards that were usually willing to order him back to his sleeping quarters.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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outofcharacter. what are all of you beautiful people doing here -- i am more than willing to discuss plotting with any one of you soon. apologies furthermore.
red and also white ;)
reblog this and see if you get a color
RED: I’m in love with you
WHITE: PLEASE MARRY ME.
;; i hope ur serious bc i am (✿◠‿◠)
"I’m dying." //I heard you liked the angst
[I do like the angst but asdfghjkl no]
"I’m dying," the words echoed harshly throughout her mind. Repeating them selves endlessly. Staring at him as if through a daze she gaze a slow, small, shake of her head. A hollow laugh fell from her mouth as she tried to fight her way from the daze she was falling through. “You’re joking,” she whispered.
"You shouldn’t joke about things like that," Dimly she was aware that the pitch of her voice was rising. Growing shriller and taken on a harsher note. "It’s cruel."
This maybe wasn’t her Jon, her cousin from back home in her own place and time. But he also was. There was similarities there and they were the same person even through the differences in lives. And it hurt just the same, if not slightly more, to hear those words from him. She was lost.
"You can’t be. I need you.” Reaching out, she grasped for his hands searchingly. Finding them she gripped them as hard as she could, nails digging. Gaze locking onto his with the same desperation as her hands she glared fiercely. “I refuse to let you. So no you’re not dying, Jon Snow.”
