poorbird
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It’s her. Gleb doesn’t waste time doubting it. He’s spent five years catching glimpses of her in the upturned angle of a chin, blue eyes laughing or flashing in anger, a flick of auburn hair sent over a shoulder, a hand brushing against his in a crowded tram. Each time, every time, the illusion lasts only for an instant, and the woman before him is a stranger again. Every time, he feels the lack of Anya, of Anastasia, as an absence felt against the inside of his ribs. As fresh as though it was new.
But this woman is not Anya as he remembers her. This isn’t a trick of the light, or a weakness of his mind, or his discomfort and yearning made manifest. She looks nothing like the grand duchess he fled from, the fairy tale that he buried. And that is how he knows she is real.
Her Royal Highness has odd and unexpected tastes in nightclubs.
Bookmarked by poorbird
24 Nov 2019
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Kepler says, "Would you die for me?" and she thinks:
'We're in a fucking Walmart.'
Bookmarked by poorbird
20 Aug 2019
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“There's a gaping hole in Will Graham,” Ms Lounds says, her words so carefully formed between pearly white teeth.
Bookmarked by poorbird
09 Jul 2019
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AU: During their attempted escape from Whitestone, Cassandra de Rolo was shot down by arrows. In this world, her brother stopped and went back for her, resulting in both of them being recaptured by the Briarwoods.
You know. Because what Percy's backstory really needed was more angst and trauma.
Bookmarked by poorbird
23 Aug 2018
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It had been eleven years or forever of unproduced plays and unexhibited paintings, of surviving on flirtation and miracles, of living in each other’s pockets and all the unspoken rules it took to make that possible.
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Bookmarked by poorbird
11 Aug 2018