𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓁𝒹

𝐈 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥... 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥.

[rosegrief]

˹   𝐢 𝐚𝐦 𝐬𝐚𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬…   ˼    a  portrayal  of  𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐕𝐎𝐍 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐂  written  by  yana, inspired  by  source  material,  meta,  greek  mythology,  and  other  forms  of  consumed  media.    ˹   𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝.     ˼ 

˹ 𝐈 ˼  profile.   ˹ 𝐈𝐈 ˼  verse.   ˹ 𝐈𝐈𝐈 ˼  study.   ˹ 𝐕𝐈 ˼  prose.   ˹ 𝐕 ˼  lore.

𝐈. be a decent human being. we are all writers just trying to enjoy some time away from the stress of reality. this is the least you can do.

𝐈𝐈. i do not do follow for follow all the time. i apologize if this offends some people. i want to keep my space as safe as i can for myself. that being said, i am more likely to follow back if you make an attempt to speak to me.

𝐈𝐈𝐈. i do not practice exclusivity with people i hardly know. however, i am much more open to mains. and when i take on mains, it will only ever be limited to three of a character. that being said, when i am writing with a certain character i do not seek out others writing that character. i also will always be respectful to my writing partner.

𝐈𝐕. i admit that i love writing ships and shippy things. however, i do not ship easily unless we are friends. also, our muses must have chemistry. sometimes that is only discoverable after writing back and forth a few times.

𝐕. everything that i create here is mine unless i have stated otherwise. please do not copy or steal anything from this blog.

[luthienne]

Nikki Giovanni, from “Mirrors”

[Text ID: … but It Cannot Be A Mistake to have cared … It Cannot Be An Error to have tried … It Cannot Be Incorrect to have loved]

[lifeinpoetry]

I wanted to be loved more than I wanted to be alive. For so long

I thought not to be loved is good but to be loved is to be good.

All those years, convinced — surely I must be bad, the way you keep punishing me.

— Leila Chatti, from “Faulty,” published in Prairie Schooner

[blood-hands]

[heartstone]

❝  you look different in sleep, beautiful but cold as moonlight.  ❞

𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐦, 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭, 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞 — 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐥. once upon a time he could look upon his beloved and feel as though there was nothing in the world that he could ever need, but as of late he would look through her, as if his heart had been hardened, were he himself he would be frightened with this man that wore his skin. he pushed himself from her, lest he hurt her, physically or emotionally, he could not bear the way her eyes examined him sorrowfully, he still wore the visage of the man she loved yet why was there a coldness whenever he attempted a fond thought of her.

❛ mn... ❜ he groaned, awakening from his lousy slumber. he’d hardly rested, something clouded his mind. he needed to find a way to secure more money, to make certain he and his beloved could live comfortably, so he would be deserving of her ( 𝑖𝑛 𝘩𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑛 𝘩𝑖𝑠 𝑜𝑤𝑛. ) pushing himself up he rubbed his eyes lazily. ❛ i ... feel a changed happening in me… ❜ the words slipped from him as a mumble, he would say no more. ❛ i must get to work — apologies for cutting our time short, iris. ❜ were he himself, he would have left her with a kiss … why didn’t he leave her with a kiss?     —    A REGRET THAT WOULD HAUNT HIM LATER WHEN THEY WERE BOTH COLD AND LACKING OF LIFE.  @rosegrief

[quotemadness]

Some people care too much. I think it’s called love.

A.A. Milne (via quotemadness)

[fantasy-scifi-art-deactivated20]

Iris von Everec | WITCHER by FL1CS 

[mauveflxwrs]

Nicola Samorì Fiero Pasto

[shisasan]

𝙳𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟸𝟶, 𝟷𝟿𝟷𝟹 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚒𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝙾𝚏 𝙵𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚣 𝙺𝚊𝚏𝚔𝚊, 𝟷𝟿𝟷𝟶-𝟷𝟿𝟷𝟹

[thyming-deactivated20220220]

You are just in thyme for tea. Sit down with me & have a cup. 🌿🍯

Picture source: 🌱

[adrasteiax]

“There’s blood between us, love, my love,”

— Christina Rossetti, from The Convent Threshold in “The Complete Poems Of Christina Rossetti”

[rosegrief]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐚𝐲,   𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐨𝐨𝐧,   𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝,   𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐝 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐮𝐩𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐲,   threatening with a shower as the day grew darker.    iris gave her attention back to her guest and smiled,   

❛  forgive me,   you’ve come all this way and i have nothing aside from my hospitality to offer you—or perhaps tea? do you like tea? ❜ iris moved to the edge of her seat,   ready to provide if needed.    she had brief trouble staying still at the moment.    something inside her stirred anxiously.    she wanted to blame it on the sights and smells that beckoned her to embrace them,   but she would do no such thing to something so glorious in its own natural form.  

@epithmia​   /   ♡ 

[quotemadness]

I’ve spent so much time in my head and in my heart that I forgot to live in my body.

Tara Hardy (via quotemadness)

[elluvians-deactivated20260113]

[intopermanence]

(Don’t let me die without seeing you again.)

Alejandra Pizarnik, trans. by Yvette Siegert, from Extracting the Stone of Madness: “Being” (via intopermanence)

[relatablepoetryandquotes]

“Does love always form, like a pearl, around the hardened bits of life?” - Andrew Sean Greer, The Story of a Marriage

[simena]

The Painter and the Pianist - Lionello Balestrieri (detail)