flowerwebs
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Summary
She flies from the Circle like a white dove.
Bookmarked by flowerwebs
14 Jul 2025
Bookmarker's Notes
“The world isn’t like it seems. It’s colors and shapes and smells and starlight, the clasp of hands, the warmth of magic in your bones. It is something you can taste, hold in your hands, grow in your garden, climb, swim, dream. It’s the laughter of a friend, the caress of a lover, the softness of words. She can’t explain something like that, and there is no map to find any of those things; but, she thinks, that is all there really is.“
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tie a noose around my neck (and i'll do the rest) by xintaga
Fandoms: Bollywood Movies, Baazigar (1993)
22 Nov 2015
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Summary
It's not love, Ajay tells himself, and shuts off the voice that doubts.
Bookmarked by flowerwebs
11 Jun 2025
Bookmarker's Notes
"He sees himself tell her of the sins her father had committed, of the aftermath it boded for the lives of his father, his mother, his sister, his own. He sees her watch him strike down at Madan Chopra the way he deserves, and she is the one to clean the blood off his hands with her hold. He sees her, when all is said and done, sitting beside his mother, matrimonial bangles chiming in unison as she turns towards him, smile knowing and hand caressing at the supple base of her stomach, right above where the vision of him knows their child will lay. His heart races and his eyes blind out, and then he’s coming into Priya harder than he’s ever done, has none of the control he’s been careful to uphold whenever it comes to losing it with her, for her. His arms slip and the only thing that holds him up is leaning against Priya, feels every gasp and every heave of her breath, feels the pump of her heart match time with every beat of his. It’s not Seema he's afraid of; it’s the truth that lies heavy in the spaces of her words."
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ex nihilo nihil fit by rhllors for dr_zook
Fandoms: Wolf Hall Series - Hilary Mantel, Wolf Hall (TV)
20 Dec 2014
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Summary
Your father has many sons.
- Language:
- English
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- 2,155
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- 1/1
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Bookmarked by flowerwebs
11 Jun 2025
Bookmarker's Notes
"You know then he is going to die. You are twenty summers old. Your mother is nothing but a fond wisp of a memory, your sisters are falcons who soar through the sky. Your brothers are imprisoned. Your future could be rust, rust and dust. Gregory, your father says, Gregory. My boy. The tears fall faster, like a silent brushing of rain. Rafe will be freed, I am sure of it, he says, and grips your hand tight. Look after each other. He is as good as your brother. Love him. But, you, you, Gregory, are my son. Never forget that. Always, always, always, you say. My boy, he murmurs. My good man."
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Summary
She could try to assemble these bits of knowledge into a father, but she would fail. It is like building a man out of spare parts: a lock of hair here, a patch of skin there. You can make a serviceable figure. It can walk around and sit and speak with you. But when you try to put its heart in, all you can find is a brick wall.
She went to England to see her father while he lived, in case the rebels killed him. She left thinking, I have seen all I will see of him, even if he lives another fifty years.
[28 July 1540. Five people who got on with their day, and one who didn’t.]
Bookmarked by flowerwebs
11 Jun 2025
Bookmarker's Notes
"Soon, he knows, he will have to put his courtier’s face on and face Henry again. He will have to try to sleep with that image in his mind, that horrible twitching body. He will think what his master would do, and then do the next most cautious thing. He will stand there, year after year, decade after decade, impassive as they insult his master to his face. But just now, he arranges nothing. He collapses against the wall with Richard and laughs until he can’t breathe. Any moment, he thinks, Gregory will come along asking what the joke is, and Richard will tell him he wouldn’t understand anyway, and it will descend to blows between them, the good-natured scuffling of friends and brothers. And then—he allows himself to think it, just for a moment, before the world moves on—his master will come barreling around the corner, breaking them up, brandishing papers, for they have business to attend to."
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Summary
The nature of the multiverse is such that every so often you find yourself on acid in the desert, awaiting the return of the once and future whatever.
Bookmarked by flowerwebs
22 Jul 2023
Bookmarker's Notes
“Then this will happen again, she thought, mind casting out into the ink-spill at the edge of the world again and again and again, as many times as it takes for us to walk in the right direction together. When she closed her eyes she could see it so clearly she wondered if perhaps her powers of divination had come into late flower or else she’d fallen headfirst into an acid dream, but when she opened them again Hawke was still there, still with the smudge of shadow underneath her dagger-blue eyes, and she was still herself, and the world was still waiting, all the world and the other worlds, the darkness smoothing every possibility into a thousand golden threads like the spokes of a wheel, turning and turning.“