#of understanding!

[flowerflamestars]

Haunted holy and divine snippet

“I’ll bring you something,” Azriel murmured. Allow me, let me, my black stained hands were made for such work. He back away first, before standing, wings melting into shadow to allow her space. “You’re safe here. I promise.” An arched brow, her expression a wound long-festered. “What kind of safe, this time? Should I expect to be drowned, or beaten next?” Azriel had been made to kneel to lesser men his whole long life. There was no resemblance to the gesture when he slid to the ground at Nesta Archeron’s feet, Truthteller unsheathed. Pure and right darkness- it hurt, unexpectedly, her surprise. His blade did not bite, mournful. Azriel slowly, gently, wrangled her shocked still hands, until Nesta understood to wreath his grip in her own. Only then did star steel drink deep. “What are you”- She swallowed the sentence when Azriel raised his head. “I made my vows to Rhain. Rhysand inherited them. Yanked like they were leading strings my whole life. No vow is true without blood.” Black climbed through the silver of her eyes, pupils expanding. She could smell him bleeding. Not a monster, not a human, and not a faery either. “You will be safe,” Azriel whispered, drip of blood an echo, “I will keep you safe.” Nesta swallowed. “Why?” It was a question he deserved, though it made the sting no less. She let him meet her gaze. Stare. Morning skies and endless fire, corpse-pale dead and dreaming blue. Azriel told the truth. He would do nothing less, before her. “Because I cannot stand to do anything else.” “Fine,” Nesta exhaled, temper only in form, “Fine.” She pulled on his hands, as though to raise him. Nesta, who’d been a lady once- did those mortal lords render themselves supplicant for her favor? Had she ever accepted even one? “Rise.” She did not let go. Azriel could not stand without being near, so close the shadows hung still, silenced by Nesta’s gaze flickering over him. Her cold, brittle hands, hooked tight on his soul. A vow he had chosen. A vow he would keep. 

[robyn-i-guess]

liking someone platonically is so embarrassing like. yeah i admire you. yeah i think about you all the time. yeah i look forward to every time i see you even if it's only for a minute. yeah it's all platonic and yeah i couldn't explain this because it'd sound romantic. fucking hell

[arynneva]

wait do people read first person stories and think they're the ones in the story???

Saw people talking about not liking first person, which is fair, but their reasoning was like "I would not do that" and I don't understand that mindset.

First person stories are still about a character. A character making their own decisions. First person isn't about you???? At least I thought it wasn't. What am I missing? I've always seen first person as just a more in-depth look into a character's mind and stricter POV. Not as a reader stand-in.

[callmebliss]

Y’ever read something and have understanding that has eluded you interminably suddenly stop, curl up, and snuggle neatly into a fold in your brain because a new way opened to it?

[inkskinned]

please i love you i'm begging you bring back suspension of disbelief bring back trusting the audience like. i cannot handle any more dialogue that sounds like a legal document. "hello, i am here to talk to you about the incident from a few minutes ago, because i feel you might be unwell, and i am invested in your personal wellbeing." "thank you, i am unwell because the incident was hurtful to me due to my childhood, which was bad." I CANT!!!!

do you know how many people are mad that authors use "growled" as a word for "said"? it's just poetics! they do not literally mean "growled," it's just a common replacement for "said with force but in a low tone." it's normal! do you hear me!! help me i love you please let me out of here!!!

[willgrahamscock]

horrible news: you have to practice to level up your skills because it's unrealistic to think you'll be good at everything first try

[great-and-small]

My grandfather and my godfather (a beloved neighbor and dear family friend) had a long standing bet- for one dollar- about who would die first. Both of them being slightly pessimistic (in the funny way), they both insisted that they themselves would be the first to die. Any time my grandfather had a health scare, he’d gleefully call up my godfather to boast that he’d be passing “any day now” and he was sure to win the bet. It was a big family joke and they were always amiably sparring and comparing notes about who was in worse shape, medically speaking.

When my grandfather was in hospice care dying of liver cancer, my godfather was quite ill also. It took him great effort to make the journey to see his dying friend. As he came into the room, supported by a family member, he shuffled to my grandpa’s bedside and silently handed him a dollar bill. He was ceding his loss of the bet, as they both knew who was going first. My grandpa had been in quite bad shape for a while and was no longer able to speak but let me tell you he snatched that dollar with unexpected strength and literally laughed aloud. He knew exactly what the gesture meant and he couldn’t help but find the humor within the grief. It was the last time any of us heard my grandpa laugh, as he passed shortly after.

When I talk about my appreciation for “dark humor” I’m not so much thinking about edgy jokes, but rather the human instinct to somehow, impossibly, both find and appreciate the absurdity that is so often folded into the profound grief of life and death. When I tell this story I think it kind of perturbs people sometimes, but it’s honestly one of my favorite memories about two men I really deeply admired. I could never hope for anything more than for my loved ones to remember me laughing until the very end, and taking joy in a little joke as one of my final acts.

[theboxfort]

Peace and love

[butchfalin]

the funniest meltdown ive ever had was in college when i got so overstimulated that i could Not speak, including over text. one of my friends was trying to talk me through it but i was solely using emojis because they were easier than trying to come up with words so he started using primarily emojis as well just to make things feel balanced. this was not the Most effective strategy... until. he tried to ask me "you okay?" but the way he chose to do that was by sending "👉🏼👌🏼❓" and i was so shocked by suddenly being asked if i was dtf that i was like WHAT???? WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?????????? and thus was verbal again

[sage-nebula]

THE SHRIEK-LAUGH THAT JUST CAME OUT OF MY MOUTH WAS UNREAL AND SCARED MY POOR DOG OUT OF A SOUND SLEEP

ALEX HIRSCH YOU DELIGHT ME MORE EVERY DAY

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Expertise can't help you here.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

well 🧍‍♀️ as a reminder this blog is NOT a safe space for trump supporters but it IS a safe place for women, queers, trans ppl, people of color, undocumented people, and any marginalized group.

[petshopbutch]

submissive in the way a livestock guardian dog is submissive to the sheep it kills wolves for

[titleofpersonage-p01]

[a-drama-addict]

not caring too much about a fandom’s favourite guy is the worst. you’ll think “oh i’ll look into the tag see if anything new and cool’s there” and it’s just that fucking guy again