#reflectiones

read rules before following,    interacts primarily through memes.     cassandra clare dni.

telling stories of   … the self-fulfilling prophecy,      two bros chilling in a hot tub, the curse of hero hair and blue eyes, demon STD awareness.

reading: will herondale. watching: will herondale. playing: will herondale.

here I fixed it for you too <3

       TODAY  SHE  IS  THE  MAIDEN  ,  NO  BLEND  OF  BIRD  OR  WRAITH  OF  THE  WOODLANDS  .  atop  her  head  a  crown  of  bone  and  the  fall  of  her  hair  the  black  of  midnight  gardens  with  its  emerald  sheen  even  at  dusk  .  a  beauty  akin  to  nightmare  ,  the  parts  of  the  whole  lovely  on  their  lonesome  but  the  amalgamation  of  them  ;  wholly  ominous  .  this  is  the  herald  ,  the  lady  of  the  glen  with  the  song  of  the  slain  on  her  lips  . here  ,  he  dishonors  her  with  such  questioning  .  

✱  the  fabled  prince  (  @reflectiones​​  )  with  a  longing  for  life  and  a  penchant  for  prodding  does  as  he  wills  ,  ❛  so  you're  saying  you  must  marry  him  because  he  said  so  .  ❜  

       a  quiet  fury  ,  an  anguish  without  a  voice  .  the  tremor  is  stilled  and  her  voice  is  clear  and  piercing  as  bird  song  .  ❛  i  am  saying  i  did  marry  him  because  i  thought  his  feelings  to  be  true  .  ❜  the  o'dienne  ring  is  a  band  of  searing  ice  around  her  finger  ━  cruel  as  it  was  breathtaking  .  embedded  at  its  core  ,   the  diamond  winks  back  at  her  in  the  dusk  haze  with  a  dire  dose  of  mischief  .  A  WICKED  TRICK  ,  A  SYMBOL  TURNED  ILL-FATED  HERALD  .  ❛  perhaps  ,  that  makes  me  more  of  a  fool  because  there  was  no  coercion  needed  .  ❜  for  a  moment  there  is  a  sway  of  pondering  as  if  this  is  the  first  time  she  had  dwelled  on  her  the  tragedy  of  her  past   .  when  in  reality  ,  it  constantly  came  in  the  form  of  skeletal  ghost  in  her  wake  .  ❛ you  are  not  the  only  one  between  us  two  that  bears  a  curse  .  ❜  (  but  she  had  given  him  what  he  had  desired ,  had  she  not  ?  )

he slams the coins down the edge of the skeeball machine,   the noise   barely   making an impact in the chaos of the arcade,   loud music and indistinct screaming filling the gaps of prolonged silence between them.         ❝    alright,   we’re going to settle this.    three rounds.    the final score will decide the victor.    ❞         he doesn’t mention again that he’d been trying to figure out who kept beating his score week after week,   and he doesn’t mention the   irritation   that bubbles in his chest.    there’s a sense of pride that came with having his name blasted in the top score section,   somewhat of a   tradition   he’d set over the years.    but he also notes the fleeting   excitement   fluttering in cages,   subsided exhilaration in having something seemingly mundane to focus on,   in having a challenge that felt   doable.    chin lifts as dark gaze flickers down to hers,   seriousness masking his features         —         hiding the   smugness   that danced along the curve of his lips.         ❝    loser gives up the all the tickets and buys pizza.    ❞         hand is outreached,         ❝    game ?    ❞ 

STARTER CALL    [    accepting!   ]     —     @reflectiones​​.

tierney was always a monster born into emptiness.  they’ve never imagined her wilderness to make people stay,  which is why they’ve never cared whenever a person she holds so dear to their heart is once again pushed away.  back then,  it was her only defense mechanism,   but now that they had a new life with a new opportunity,   that defense was nothing but the many wounds she had given others coming right back to them.   ❝   please don’t grow tired of me.   ❞       a sigh.   she wishes to remember what it was like to be holy again,   but that body felt rotten.   it felt out of place     :     a home that was no longer theirs.   she’d grown tired of their heart,   wanting to cut every peace of fury and anger out of them.   putting everything back together was like setting themself aflame every night before she went to sleep,   only to wake up in ashes.   how do you fix something you can barely remember before breaking?   

do  you  got  my  number ?

✱  welcome  to  my  kitchen:  toss  me  a  number

𝟐𝟖 .  what  is  a  turn - off  when  you’re  seeking  writing  partners  ?  i  like  to  think  i  am  pretty  open  to  writing  with  most  people  .  problems  only  arise  when  i  feel  like  i  am  the  person  putting  in  most  of  the  work  in  terms  of  plotting  or  keeping  a  dynamic  afloat  ,  if  that  makes  sense  ?  i  find  that  a  good  writing  partner  is  someone  who  matches  your  energy  each  step  of  the  way  from  plotting  to  writing  and  anything  beyond  that  .  the  short  of  the  long  of  it  is  we  gotta  be  vibing  a  bit  ooc  in  order  to  really  solidify  a  good  writing  relationship  because  threads  truly  go  nowhere  without  any  form  of  communication  .