kovotojas;  [ tag fix ];  
l;  nsfw;  nsfr;  


                              personification of cruelty.
                                        mun has 8+ years of experience, & a
                                        couple years’ worth with the specific
                                        muse.  blog will be triggering, and all
                                        such content will be tagged.  warning
                                        that muse will not hold back, and has
                                        next to no redeeming quality.

                                                    h o m e .

[ so i’ve been wanting to test out a non-fandom muse, & this particular one is very
  dear to my heart (and has also been bugging me ever since i went away on my
  birthday trip).  i know this muse extremely well, so she won’t demand so much of
  my attention, & i can still focus well enough on my other blogs.  it would be so, so
  lovely, though, if you could follow & give her someone to play with.  uwu ]

p;  self p;  

some more random starters from various sources (once again, from spotify playlists, random commentary, tv shows, books, movies, and my brain).

  • ❝You know Paris is beautiful at this time of year.❞
  • ❝Someone needs to learn how to take a hint.❞
  • ❝I tripped and fell on some rocks. Nothing more. Honestly you’re imaging things.❞
  • ❝Yeah, his teeny tiny swimmers are determined little guys aren’t they?❞
  • ❝How can I eloquently tell you to shut the hell up?❞
  • ❝You know you’re supposed to mix it, right?❞
  • ❝Alcohol is bad for you. So are drugs. And sex.❞
  • ❝I once knew someone who would nibble on his fingers.❞
  • ❝What’s dead should stay dead.❞
  • ❝You need to stop this. You’re making a fool of yourself.❞
  • ❝I don’t know why you’re so obsessed with him/her.❞
  • ❝I think I’m the one that has to float tonight. Fuck.❞
  • ❝Come back to bed.❞
  • ❝They look just like you.❞
  • ❝It’s handcrafted by the finest artisans in the land, why in the world are you so surprised at the amount?❞
  • ❝You’re not even my real mother.❞
  • ❝You’re not even my real father.❞
  • ❝You are a piece of me, that I wished I didn’t need! But I need you anyway.❞
  • ❝Our love is just one huge clusterfuck, but I could care less.❞
  • ❝Did it ever enter your mind that perhaps I wanted this?❞
  • ❝It takes two to tango so both of you deserve the blame.❞
  • ❝Our parents loved us. You were just too stubborn and blind to see it.❞
  • ❝I just want to sleep, you know? I want to sleep and ever wake up.❞
  • ❝What’s the dream and what’s reality?❞
  • ❝We were two foolish children who thought we were in love.❞
  • ❝Do you honestly think that this is going to end happily?❞
  • ❝When I told you I couldn’t face this child, I meant it.❞
  • ❝She told me you were doing research — You know there’s no point, right?❞
  • ❝Why do you insist on prying into the past?❞
  • ❝Does this have anything to do with the affair he/she had?❞
  • ❝He said that if I kept the baby, he would end everything.❞
  • ❝Shame on all of us for not having stopped it.❞
  • ❝I got lost in the sounds.❞
  • ❝Stop it. You’re being rude.❞
  • ❝I suppose it’s better than nothing. But it could be better. Without a doubt.❞
  • ❝You always have your head in the skies when it should be here.❞
  • ❝I made a mistake, why do you insist on reminding me?❞
  • ❝If you love me, than why did you live?❞
  • ❝If you’re going to play the game, at least learn to play it well.❞
  • ❝Look at you. You’re absolutely filthy.❞
  • ❝You’ve never done this before, have you?❞
  • ❝You’re bleeding.❞
  • ❝I once stood at the edge of a cliff and thought about jumping.❞
  • ❝I hate it.❞
  • ❝You look like a grumpy cat.❞
  • ❝Don’t tell me you don’t want to at least dip your feet into the water!❞
  • ❝Just let it go already, Jesus.❞
  • ❝I have a surprise for you.❞
  • ❝You make love as you eat.❞
  • ❝I don’t want anything to spoil it.❞
  • ❝Can the heart truly turn black?❞
  • ❝You have no reason to be suspicious.❞


f;  [ f u ckin hell---- ];  


            He says  ❛ hi, ❜ and Allison has to let out a laugh, because after 
            all this, all of this—-all he has to say for himself is hi. It’s so
            painstakingly Vilkasthat she loves it; she loves it. She loves it,
            him, so much, she can feel it in her bones. It’s in the clench of 
            her teeth as she smiles, trying to stop deliriously laughing. 

      But this was just—-never in the cards for her. Marriage.
      Someone like Vilkas. After…after everything, after Allison
      closed herself off and shut down, she accepted the fact
      that she was going to be alone. It was just easier. None
      of this was——n e c e s s a r y .

                        But oh. O h . Then she met Vilkas. Then she got
                        a taste of what could be hers, and it was better
                        than the sweetest, goddamned ambrosia anyone
                        could ever hope to try. And how was she supposed
                        to  e v e r  hope to let go of that? Giving her a taste 
                        was cruel. But letting it slip away would be fatal.

            Vilkas, though. Vilkas was–-was this spontaneous? Has he
            been planning it? Honestly, Allison thought she could pretty
            much read him by now. He hadn’t even been acting different.
            No more or less awkward, no nervous, nothing—-and if there’s
            anyone who can render Allison Argent speechless, it’s him. Still,
            she feels as if she’s in a dream; Allison blinked, and the world 
            was gone, just Allison and Vilkas, lightly swaying to music that 
            sounds sweet and hazy, like cotton candy. It’s so cliché that 
            Allison is almost embarrassed, but she can’t find it in herself to
            care. Because he’s holding her and touching her and Vilkas
            wants to  m a r r y  her. He wants to marry her.

                         He’s also waiting on a reply while rambling her ear
                         off about rings, staring at the ceiling as if it’s going
                         to be able to stop the nervous chatter. Allison is
                         so far gone that she thinks it’s cute, wants to kiss
                         him. So she  d o e s .  Presses her mouth to his jaw,
                         just a light touch, pulls back as if she’s been burned
                         when he suggests they could forget about it. If 
                         there’s one thing Allison never wants to do, it’s forget.

                                                                           ❝ No, god no—- 

                                          Pauses. Realizes what that sounds like.

            ❝ No, no, I don’t mean no, as in no, I’m saying no,
                I mean no as in no, I don’t want to pretend this 
                never happened.  E v e r . I never want to pretend this
                never happened. This  t o t a l l y  happened. You just
                proposed to me. Kind of lacking in actual verbal 
                substance, but it’s you, and I’ll take all of it, thanks. ❞


                     Bumps her forehead against his, swaying to Samson
                     and sliding her palms up his arms. They twine around
                     the back of his neck. She just wants to get c l o s e r . 

        ❝ Yes. Yes, god, yes. Of course I’ll marry you.
            It would be my  h o n o r ,  Vilkas. ❞

                He never expected to fall in love.  Never had any proof his heart really
                worked that way.  From little Lithuanian boy without concrete home, w-
                ho played on tall slides to draw forth bright smiles from fairytale Amer-
                ican girl, to a … monster, who kept secrets and hid a knife in the palm
                of one hand, while saying I love you.  Now, he’s just Vilkas.  Scarred,
                and h o l l o w sometimes, but there are no more secrets.  No more fr-
                esh wounds.  His heart works, somehow.
                                                                        He can put a name to

                                                       When he smiles, you can see the lava inside the
                                                       volcano of his heart.  It’s not brittle and dry as bo-
                                                       ne anymore, like he’s forcing it to some pathetic
                                                       joke.  It’s r e a l .

                And he’s impulsive.  He could go an entire day thinking she’d never s-
                ay yes in a million years, to laying out candles on her floor like Van Go-
                gh to wax.  That’s part of his chemical make-up, and it’s hell, but he thi-
                nks he’s glad he took the risk.  Allison’s laugh means more to him tha-
                n any amount of self-comfort.  Her lips are something else, too      and
                they shut him up effectively, leaving bewildered s t a r s in his eyes.

                Is she actually saying y e s ?  Is she ill?  Hoarse laugh breathes out of
                Vilkas.  She is, she’s      this whole thing actually worked out.  She thinks
                it’s an honour.  He’s a steel fucking anchor to her beauty and grace, but
                she doesn’t mind.  She’ll have him.  He leans into her, head growing lig-
                ht in the ridiculousness of the circumstance.  The air is full of vanilla, a-
                nd Allison said yes.  Allison fucking said yes.

                                                      His laughs grows a little louder, and it’s pinched w-
                                                      ith something more.  Arms tighten around her, and
                                                      he’s trying to figure out how to deal with this surge
                                                      of emotion.  Trying to keep his voice from cracking.

                “That’s great," he says.  Voice definitely fails him.  God, he      feels kind
                of numb all over.  ”Thank you."  It’s      words aren’t coming out right.  So-
                mething in his throat.  “Thanks.”

                He can’t keep the salt from his eyes, but he laughs in the face of it, wher-
                e his pride may once have stung.  Sweeps Allison close and kisses her
                on the mouth, and he is all warmth inside.  Honest, good warmth.

                                                 He loves her.

t;  v: target;  tellthewolvesimhomex;  nsfr;  [ i refuse to ruin this ok;  never e v e r ];  
what doesn’t kill you
leaves scars
ruins your lungs
dries out all your tears
leaves you lying awake at 4 in the morning
wishing you weren’t alive
I’m not used to being loved. I wouldn’t know what to do.

F. Scott Fitzgerald, More Than Just A House (via fitzgeraldquotes)
m;  [ actual vilkas ];  
coded by ifallontragedy