continued from here.


          Where Robert is electricity, Rosalind is water.

          They each have currents of their own, powerful, commanding, energetic,
          and when they clash, it can have an incredibly adverse effect on all those
          around them—including one another  He comments had been simple, if
          not bitter, and she had held her head high when she should have admitted
          to defeat long before.  Perhaps it was too late now, but she would not go
          down without a fight.

                          Whether you wish to or
                             not, I’m here to apolo-
                             gize, and I shan’t be
                             driven away until I
                             am officially forgiven.

send me one of the following


  • "Don’t lie to me."
  • "You promised…"
  • "I thought you changed."
  • "You were supposed to be different."
  • "I trusted you!"
  • "I loved you once."
  • "This is your fault!"
  • "Tell me they’re lying."
  • "Please, don’t do this!"
  • "I don’t believe you."
  • "What have you done!?"
  • "You’re never going to change."
  • "I can’t even look at you right now."
  • "Tell me the truth!"
  • "Why won’t you look at me?"
  • "Stay away from me!"
  • "… I hate you."
Bring us the girl,
and wipe away the debt. 

Rosalind’s navigation page is officially ready to go!  I should have had it done before, but… hey.  Better late than never.


"I’m both."


{ cap credit: x }
"Lutece + 17"


* we both agreed we liked #11 better so


[boop. here’s a quick sketch of rosalind getting ready for bed

whoops she looks like yvonne strahovski]

"Hey lil mama, lemme whisper in ya ear."



        whenever he looked back at it    he found himself grinning. he recalls wanting to snap her neck, wanting to make her bleed and cringe in pain below him. it’s what she deserved    she was a snooty, nosy bitch, and there’s nothing fontaine hated more than people trying to stick their nose into his business. the worst part was that she didn’t even need to try hard    she already knew mostly everything about him. his true identity, his true motives    with that, she held so much damn power over him. she could ruin his role of atlas with just a few words, and since he couldn’t kill her    well, he was screwed. but her intent was not malicious. she didn’t sell him out or tell anybody who he really was. she kept the information to herself and mocked him about it, but she didn’t speak of it to anyone. why she decided to stay with him, he didn’t understand. she always gave vague answers or responded with words that were too complex for him to understand. he eventually stopped asking why she stayed around, and instead, he asked her for help. what does this mean, can you get this information for me, can you give me your opinion on this speech, can you fix this for me    she proved herself to be useful and rather.. enjoyable to be around. perhaps it was because of how alike they both were    the narcissism, the bitterness, the pessimistic view on things, the fact that they preferred to be alone than surrounded by others. he never expected to like her, but he did. he doesn’t say it, and she doesn’t say that she likes him either, but he knows it. 

                                                               it was like being six all over again, but
                                                               instead of wanting to give her flowers,
                                                               he wanted to give her a small portion of
                                                               his soon-to-be throne.

        he drinks and she watches him and reads one of her books. they’re both silent as the typical. they don’t speak to one another unless it’s urgent or they’re both in need of entertainment. the alcohol burns his throat and makes him hiss through his tease pleasantly. though she didn’t ask and seemed to dislike alcohol, he pours her a glass anyway. if she doesn’t drink it, he’ll drink it for her. his head spins and he sighs in bliss, rubbing at his temple with his thumb. he might be able to sleep more than the usual tonight    he’s found himself faster to relax as of late. maybe it was all the alcohol he’s been consuming. maybe it was rosalind’s presence    so similar to his own that he frankly adores it.

                                                  put two moody, seemingly heartless narcissists
                                                  together, and the results will shock.

        blue eyes glance over at her, and he looks over her freckles and the pale color of her skin and her lips and her hair (which he’s dying to see down), and he finds himself craving. he’s not a man who craves after others    a lack of sexual attraction since he learned what sex was, but it’s not necessarily the action of sex that he wants. he wants to dominate her and make her say his name and mark up her skin    he exhales and finishes up the alcohol in his glass, and then he touches her thigh. it almost seems chaste    at least, until he slides it further up. 

                                                               ” rosa    i want y’. now. “ 

fauxsalvation replied to your post:

one day later do you still think you’re too science for me DARLING