Nights that turned into mornings, with friends that turned into family.
So many of us still writing about broken promises and forgotten lovers. About the injustice of society or the cruelty of humanity.
As if writing some words, could change the world.
—  it can’t it can’t

venusmelody asked:

"things you didn’t say at all" + Carlos/Santanico

When it’s all said and done, Carlos joins her, keeping pace with her steps, walking away from the wreckage, the end of the battle at her side.

They don’t touch and she doesn’t look at him, but she lets him walk with her, keep her company now that Richard had sped off in a car with his brother—los hermanos Gecko were never much for fighting, trickery and schemes, choosing flight always over fight, their precious hides worth more than any pride they might have had—and Carlos’ fledging had chosen his human sister over Carlos.

It’s easy.

Carlos is a habit of loneliness that she allows to persist.

He offers to show her the world, pulls out a map and tells her to pick anywhere, but she tells him Mexico, always Mexico, show me what they’ve done to my homeland.

They avoid the temples, she had enough of those for another five hundred years—ruins, he tells her, heaps of stone that tourists come to see, skin pinkening under the sun, taking pictures immersing themselves in the history; it makes her laugh, bright and airy, and he smiles at her, so she takes a picture of him, standing outside a food stand on a street in Mexico City, steam rising up behind him.

(They eat a pair of them—tourists—luring them with easy smiles and offering to show them the real Mexico, whatever that had meant, left them in an alleyway with torn out throats and she kissed Carlos with a bloody mouth, head spinning and feeling heady, drunk from the kill, and finds steady feet with her lips on his.)

Santanico tries to make sense of her country, connect what Carlos had told her throughout the years to what she sees, thought if she could see it, if she could touch it would become real to her, but none of the places look the same, not even the ocean, like time had eroded away all her memories and left her stranded in a foreign land on foreign soil that she once used to know, felt between her toes and laid down on, smelt as it warmed under the sun.

Carlos combs his fingers through her hair as she stands with the ocean water lapping over her feet, staring out onto the horizon, wishing she had let him show her elsewhere, taken her away so her long dead heart wouldn’t feel this heavy.

“If you had seen the change,” he whispers above the breeze, the gentle roar of the waves, “It would have been better. I wanted to you to see. I’m sorry you didn’t get to.”

He holds her at night, just like that night, when they’re not hunting, when she’s shaking and hiccupping, tears hot on her cheeks, curls around her like a different sort of shackle, hand pressed against her chest like he could still feel her heart, feel it beating though it stopped long before he stumbled into her temple and claimed her for his own. She brings his hand to her mouth and kisses his palm, a careful benediction that’s more of a thank you than forgiveness—maybe one day, there’s still time.  


As you set out for Ithaka
hope the voyage is a long one,
full of adventure, full of discovery.
Laistrygonians and Cyclops,
angry Poseidon—don’t be afraid of them:
you’ll never find things like that on your way
as long as you keep your thoughts raised high,
as long as a rare excitement
stirs your spirit and your body.
Laistrygonians and Cyclops,
wild Poseidon—you won’t encounter them
unless you bring them along inside your soul,
unless your soul sets them up in front of you.

Hope the voyage is a long one.
May there be many a summer morning when,
with what pleasure, what joy,
you come into harbors seen for the first time;
may you stop at Phoenician trading stations
to buy fine things,
mother of pearl and coral, amber and ebony,
sensual perfume of every kind—
as many sensual perfumes as you can;
and may you visit many Egyptian cities
to gather stores of knowledge from their scholars.

Keep Ithaka always in your mind.
Arriving there is what you are destined for.
But do not hurry the journey at all.
Better if it lasts for years,
so you are old by the time you reach the island,
wealthy with all you have gained on the way,
not expecting Ithaka to make you rich.

Ithaka gave you the marvelous journey.
Without her you would not have set out.
She has nothing left to give you now.

And if you find her poor, Ithaka won’t have fooled you.
Wise as you will have become, so full of experience,
you will have understood by then what these Ithakas mean.


This is probably the cutest thing I’ve ever laid eyes upon. Ohh my god.

Go for it

1. The meaning behind my URL

2. A picture of me

3. Why I love my bestfriend

4. Last time I cried and why

5. Piercings I have

6. Favorite Band

7. Biggest turn off(s)

8. Top 5 (insert subject)

9. Tattoos I want

10. Biggest turn on(s)

11. Age

12. Ideas of a perfect date

13. Life goal(s)

14. Piercings I want

15. Relationship status

16. Favorite movie

17. A fact about my life

18. Phobia

19. Middle name

20. Anything you want to ask