Somewhere Between Thinking Of Beth As "the Middle Sister Who Dies, What About Her?" To "the Nice One,

Once, there was a young prince who was born in a castle. His mother was a princess scholar, and his father was the most handsome, feared knight in all the land. As a boy, people would bring him everything he could ever dream of wanting. The most beautiful silk clothes, ripe fruit from the orangery.

At times, he was so happy, he felt he would never grow tired of being a prince. He came from a long, long line of princes, but never before had there been a prince quite like him: born with his heart on the outside of his body. When he was small, his family would smile and laugh and say he would grow out of it one day. But as he grew, it stayed where it was, red and visible and alive. He didn’t mind it very much, but every day, the family’s fear grew that the people of the kingdom would soon notice and turn their backs on the prince.

His grandmother, the queen, lived in a high tower, where she spoke only of the other princes, past and present, who were born whole.

Then, the prince’s father, the knight, was struck down in battle. The lance tore open his armor and his body and left him bleeding in the dust. And so, when the queen sent new clothes, armor for the prince to parcel his heart away safe, the prince’s mother did not stop her. For she was afraid, now: afraid of her son’s heart torn open too.

So the prince wore it, and for many years, he believed it was right.

Until he met the most devastatingly gorgeous peasant boy from a nearby village who said absolutely ghastly things to him that made him feel alive for the first time in years and who turned out to be the most mad sort of sorcerer, one who could conjure up things like gold and vodka shots and apricot tarts out of absolutely nothing, and the prince’s whole life went up in a puff of dazzling purple smoke, and the kingdom said, “I can’t believe we’re all so surprised.”

“Did your wish come true?” // “I am not entirely certain yet.” // “You shall have to let me know,” Celia says. “I hope it does. I suppose in a way, I made the Wishing Tree for you.”

“I made a wish on this tree years ago,” Marco says // “What did you wish for?” Bailey asks, hoping it is not too forward a question // “I wished for her,” he says.

WILL I EVER RECOVER FROM THIS *SCREAMS*

A year ago, taylor swift wrote an album for the hopeless romantics, the lonely yearners, touch starved kids, the people who peaked in high school, single parents who gave all that they had, the ones who never got over their first love, those who live in a fantasy, grief stricken young people, the entire lgbtq+ community, mentally ill and misunderstood kids, fierce women who's souls are tired of being second to men, broken hearted divorcées, glamorous and beautiful ingénues who don't quite belong, sexy murderers, bisexual former gifted kids, teens who are terrified of getting older, people with unrequited crushes, cynical bitches who fell in love and for the dreamers, for us.

Every muscle in Chaol’s body locked up as he discovered Aelin now standing at Nesryn’s side. Of course. Of course she’d tracked them here.

Frankly, she didn’t deserve a word out of him, but when she’d hunted him down an hour ago, interrupting a meeting that was so secret that they’d disclosed the location to the rebel leaders only an hour before.

Chaol made it a block before Aelin silently dropped down beside him. He didn’t flinch. “I should have known better.” “You really should have.”

“Again,” Chaol said, “why are you here?” She’d just … snuck up on them. With far too much ease.

Please this is hilarious lmao

Things I wanna see less in fantasy~

Female protagonists having the best character arcs and personal growth only to lose their powers for the "greater good". Like? Let them be happy WITH POWERS?? ALINA'S LIGHT??? AELIN'S FIRE???? NESTA'S DEATH MAGIC??? TESSA'S SHAPE-SHIFTING??

"You’re mad,” I said. “You know what he can do. No prize is worth that.”

Sturmhond grinned. “That remains to be seen.”

“The Darkling will hunt you for the rest of your days.”

“Then you and I will have something in common, won’t we? Besides, I like to have powerful enemies. Makes me feel important.”

Mal crossed his arms and considered the privateer. “I can’t decide if you’re crazy or stupid.”

“I have so many good qualities,” Sturmhond said. “It can be hard to choose.” 

~Leigh Bardugo, Siege & Storm

Inej Ghafa is listening to Renegade by Taylor Swift.

Never have I ever wanted to be a goat more.

Taylor Swift didn't write things like "Lost in your current like a priceless wine"// "Wherever you stray I follow"// "I'm begging for you to take my hand"// "Life was a willow and it bent right to your wind"// "Show me the places where the others gave you scars"// "Every bait-and-switch was a work of art"// "You know that my train can take you home, anywhere else is hollow" for you to not believe in love

“And yet my heart is buried with you in the strange soil of the mortal world, as it was drowned with you in the cold waters of the undersea.  It was yours before I could ever admit it, and yours it shall ever remain.” 

~ Cardan's letters to Jude