I'm re-reading The Mortal Instruments, to be more specific I am reading City of Ashes
I came to this part of the "Imperrito" (fearless) rune (I don't know if that's the right translation, I've never read the books in english) and thought about the fact that they haven't used it yet, you know?
and I'm a big fan of KitTy so I just got the idea that...
Kit goes back to Los Angeles and continues using the fearless rune to calm his growing anxiety to be back there knowing that sooner or later he has to see Ty again
He (Kit) then starts behaving strangely, more like Jace and less like himself and that's how Ty finds him.
The passing of the years and the different attitude scare Ty a bit and he approaches him asking "who are you?" because he doesn't recognize Kit acting so differently and Kit (as full of confidence as he feels) asks him "Am I Forgotten?" but in a flirty tone
Just imagining the scene something like that excites me a lot
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'Classic radblr authors' and not just 'radfem authors' because not all of them are/were radfems, but they are feminist authors popular here :)
If you've read feminist literature before reading any of the authors mentioned, pick the first radfem reading. If not, pick the first 'general' / second wave feminist reading!
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in dreams, lars meets you in warm conversation.
(no doubt those are warmer words than the ones he exchanged with you personally.)
in those dreams, he was sat beside or across you — a pitcher of your favorite drink and a bouquet of forget-me-nots between you two as you ask him how he is and has been. if the sun still shines the way it did when you were younger; when your hands treaded his hair like familiar lands and knotted them into anthuriums. if clouds still came in the shape of lions and gave him bravery through wisps of sunshine and breeze.
(he remembers how his hand was in yours as he pointed to the outlines of the animal, squeezing your hand tightly to get your attention,
— then he remembers how you only let him take your faltering, and limp hand; musing on how it felt as if he were preying on a dead bird.)
akin to the other dreams he’s had of you — like clockwork, you would shift in your seat by the second inquiry — gaze sweeping over any answers the blond had ready for you, wilting pathetically as mere syllables back into his throat before you pour yourself another glass; eyes fixated on the way his expression softens straight into a solid flatline.
and lars watches how you never finish.
the liquid spills out of the cup, it reaches out and over the table to spill into running waters, flooding him to the knees in a near-desperation to soak into the living for something- anything that could live on— but the sun bleeds into his eye, and the morning starts again.
a cold cup of your favorite drink by his bedside table, your voice in mind; and like clockwork — he gets up solely to meet you in warmer conversations than the one he held with you on your deathbed.
✩ love notes — thank u vv much to alexie mi love ( @alexisomnias ) for proofreading hehehe 💕
✩ lovebrush chronicles taglist — @nordicbananas, @lovebrushed, @xyoonx, @tsukishiro-yue2402, @norieoncrack ♡ send in an ask if you want to be added !!
ⓒ GEPAZU 2023 — 2024.
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...The truth, really. That there is no real me, and that I'm even more of a ghost than the literal ones here. Everyone expects different things of me, and to do that I have to stretch myself to be as fickle and capricious as this very labyrinth, just to avoid the truth; I am nothing without those I survey.
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I didn't plan on posting this but ah well. Might as well. It was an art challenge from the LU discord: Three random characters (I rolled dice) and three random colours (I asked my friend to choose three colours without telling her what for)
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i accidentally got stuck in a symbolic manifestation of my own desire for punishment and/or hell and now this thing keeps following me everywhere
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