She had played the dutiful daughter, the blushing bride, the pliant wife. She had suffered Robert’s drunken groping, Jaime’s jealousy, Renly’s mockery, Varys with his titters, Stannis endlessly grinding his teeth. She had contended with Jon Arryn, Ned Stark, and her vile, treacherous, murderous dwarf brother, all the while promising herself that one day it would be her turn.
//online now at raintower.etsy.com // The veined and clawed hand of the forest hag, Baba Yaga. The Yaga lives in a hut on chicken legs and travels the woodlands perched in her mortar, propelling herself with the pestle. I created this amulet as a reminder of the crone, the wise one who dwells not only in wilderness but as part of our inner divinity. Bitter herbs, harsh love and dark moon belong to her.
reblog if you are actually a ghost from the 1800’s that is blogging from beyond the grave
i want you to rule the darkness with me, at my side. looking over a black, scorched, dead world. where there is no more pain
because there are n o m o r e h e a r t s t o f e e l .
Portrait of the Countess of Vergennes in Turkish Attireontes of Vergennes in Turkish Gown by Antoine de Favray (detail)
Przy klawikordzie - Pieśń miłosna, 1902
get to know me | favorite movies [2/5] → memoirs of a geisha
She paints her face to hide her face. Her eyes are deep water.
It is not for Geisha to want. It is not for Geisha to feel.
Geisha is an artist of the floating world. She dances.
She sings. She entertains you. Whatever you want.
The rest is shadows. The rest is secret.