avēre

we have not touched the stars

nor are we forgiven

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gabelightwood

patrochilles for @azqaban

“I have done it,” she says. At first I do not understand. But then I see the tomb, and the marks she has made on the stone. ACHILLES, it reads. And beside it, PATROCLUS.
“Go,” she says. “He waits for you.”

In the darkness, two shadows, reaching through the hopeless, heavy dusk. Their hands meet, and light spills in a flood like a hundred golden urns pouring out of the sun.

posted 2 years ago on Saturday, November 17, 2018 with 1,055 notes
via greenbriarcardan

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i still live up to the 'smaller means angrier' stereotype.

at any point i will be thinking of richard's sikens works or virginia woolf.

networks
ADMIN:

MEMBER:
quiet;
tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us.