bakerstreet | Where there’s breath, I’ve heard, there’s hope.

true love's kiss

“As she bends for a Kleenex in the dark, I am thinking of other girls: the girl I loved who fell in love with a lion—she lost her head over it—we just necked a lot; of the girl who fell in love with the tightrope, got addicted to getting high wired and nothing else was enough; all the beautiful, damaged women who have come through my life and I wonder what would have happened if I’d met them sooner, what they were like before they were so badly wounded. All this time I thought I’d been kissing, but maybe I’m always doing mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, kissing dead girls in hopes that the heart will start again. Where there’s breath, I’ve heard, there’s hope.”

– Daphne Gottlieb, Kissing Dead Girls

You bit the poisoned apple. The needle of the spinning wheel pierced your finger. The terms are complete, the cursed fulfilled. Or perhaps your downfall is more modern (technology, bio-weaponry, misuse of powers) or metaphoric. Regardless, you've slipped in a sleep as deep as death. No one or nothing can wake you.

Nothing except a kiss from your true love.

— comment with your character + prefs + desired role. are you cursed or cusebreaker?
— reply to others.
— remember, your 'true love' might not be who you expect; the conventional may not work, the outlandish the perfect fit instead.

Where there’s breath, I’ve heard, there’s hope.

Agron | Spartacus | M/M