myra > Recent Status Updates

post apocalyptic sapphic horror in prima persona just hits different

giving a chance ad un libro scritto in prima persona, potrei impazzire prima di finirlo

How can I see so noble a creature destroyed by misery, without feeling the most poignant grief? He is so gentle.

Bonjour, notre bonne Marie <3

I forever left the theatre my father had built in the name of rotting beauty.

I kissed her back, with more heat to it than I intended, remembering how it felt to first lay eyes on her, the impossibility of her beauty, the magnetic field surrounding her. And now I was kissing her.

We were bright and young and brilliant, alive with glittering promise, and yet we went to such extreme lengths to keep ourselves small

Why wouldn’t my mother do anything to protect me, the way mothers in stories always did?

‘Mum,’ I pleaded, just a girl, just a little girl at the heart of myself.

“Ronan,” Gansey said again.
In a very low voice, Ronan replied, “I’m waiting for you to tell me what to do, Gansey. Tell me where to go.”

In the quiet, they heard Blue and Ronan talking. There was something quite comforting about the fond and familiar murmur of their voices, and Gansey felt that uncanny tugging of time again. That he had lived this moment before, or would live it in the future. Of wanting and having, both the same. Until this night, he hadn’t really thought that he believed that there was anything more to his life.

Adam pressed his lips together, and then he asked, “Did you dream Cabeswater?”
Ronan’s blue eyes flicked up to Adam.

GIRL