raymond-the-unascended

[raymond-the-unascended]

My girlfriend texted me this. Did I win, guys?

@booklover-445

[raymond-the-unascended]

“My love, don't ever call yourself ugly. By doing that, you're taking away the colour from the universe. You're taking away the artist's will to paint, a poet's will to write, a dreamer's will to dream. Because that masterpiece of moonlight spun into flesh that your face is, if that's not beauty, then darling I'm afraid there is no true beauty to be found in this universe. If that is not beauty, there is no meaning to life, there is no meaning to anything at all.”

—Raymond Sycamore

@booklover-445

[raymond-the-unascended]

"I love you so much, darling. So damn much that if you carved open my arteries, the blood wouldn't just flow—it would spell your name. I love you so much that if my veins were threads, they would weave your name into my skin. If my bones were ink, they would write poetry about you, forever."

—Raymond Sycamore

@booklover-445

[raymond-the-unascended]

"Without ever having touched a drop of alcohol, I was drunk. And heavily at that. Drowning, not in wine, but in the ocean of her—her lips, her scent, the silk of her hair slipping through my fingers. I was intoxicated by the way her skin felt against mine, by the way her voice wrapped around my name, by the laughter that echoed in my entire self. I was lost in the depth of her eyes, in the syllables of her name. I was drunk on her, utterly and irrevocably."

—Raymond Sycamore

@booklover-445

[raymond-the-unascended]

Funny how my gf slowly turned my blog from a random ASOIAF and TVD blog to a romance blog without even trying.

@booklover-445

[raymond-the-unascended]

First Home ❤️

I loved before, or so I thought,

Yet never knew what love was for.

Not hands that held, nor lips that met—

Just longing caged in cold regret.

I chased a dream, I lost my way,

Mistook the dusk for light of day.

But love was not the fleeting past—

It’s here, it’s you, the one that lasts.

The first who stayed through nights of doubt,

Who kissed the pain I spoke about.

The first to hold my trembling hands,

To see, to know, to understand.

You are the first who made me whole,

Who taught me love is not control.

No fleeting spark, no fading gleam,

But home—my heart, my soul, my dream.

So hush, my love, no past remains,

No ghost can haunt what fate ordains.

You are the first I won’t forget—

The first I'll love without regret.

—Raymond Sycamore

***

@booklover-445 Darling, you'll be my first and last "forever."

[raymond-the-unascended]

Somewhere between her fingers intertwining with mine and the way she looks at me, I knew—this is it. She is the one.

@booklover-445

[raymond-the-unascended]

As they say: anything that works, works.

[raymond-the-unascended]

@booklover-445

[raymond-the-unascended]

Anaïs Nin, from a diary entry featured in Trapeze: The Unexpurgated Diary of Anais Nin, 1947-1955

[raymond-the-unascended]

@booklover-445

Joaquín Nin, from a letter to Anaïs Nin, featured in Reunited: The Correspondence of Anais and Joaquin Nin, 1933-1940

[raymond-the-unascended]

She has taken over my thoughts, claimed my sleepless nights, invaded my busiest days, colored my happiest hours, and deepened my saddest ones. Her name lingers in my soul, a quiet, unshakable echo that refuses to fade.

—Raymond Sycamore

[raymond-the-unascended]

It's 1 AM, I'm sitting there in the dim light, studying for a test, low music playing in my room, and a random wave of sadness washes over me—no reason, no warning.

Somewhere deep inside me, a voice whispers, "God, I wish she was here with me."

[raymond-the-unascended]

In every thought,

You linger, untamed,

A quiet ache,

Whispering your name.

In every breath,

I find your shadow,

And I crave you,

Endlessly.

[raymond-the-unascended]

GODDAMN THIS IS LIT

he remembered robb as he had last seen him, standing in the yard with snow melting in his auburn hair.

separation — w.s. merwin

[raymond-the-unascended]

Catelyn describing the southern rain:

"...soft and warm. Catelyn liked the feel of it on her face, gentle as a mother's kisses. It took her back to her childhood, to long grey days at Riverrun."

Ned describing the southern rain:

"It beat down on Ned's head, warm as blood and relentless as old guilts."

Ned really does not miss the chance to describe how much he fucking hates everything about this place, does he?

[raymond-the-unascended]

"I'd suffer a thousand wounds if it meant avoiding the singular, soul-crushing stab to the heart that is your absence."

—Raymond Sycamore