wisp-of-thought - ♡ it aches softer here ♡
♡ it aches softer here ♡

she//her ♡ reader ♡ writer ♡ existential crisiser ♡

580 posts

Besides, Being The Inquisitor Isn'ta Favour Or Reward. Its A Service You Give. Its A Way Of Paying Back

“Besides, being the inquisitor isn't a favour or reward. It’s a service you give. It’s a way of paying back the world.”

He started to smile. “I suppose.”

She winked. “Also, I’m happy to know that if I need someone to bend the law in my favour, I will have a powerful friend.”

- Cristina and Deigo Rosales Queen of Air and Darkness Page 851

Why is everyone sleeping on the fact that Diego might be the next Inquisitor?

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More Posts from Wisp-of-thought

6 years ago

The Scary Place

It is a scary place. My mind.                                                                                  A madhouse.                                                                                                          A circus.                                                                                                                  A laboratory.                                                                                                            A burning house.                                                                                                      A prison.                                                                                                                A funhouse mirror room.                                                                                          There is nowhere to run.                                                                                        Nowhere to hide.                                                                                                  Anyone stuck in here would go mad.                                                                      I'm sure you understand.                                                                                          No, you couldn't. No one can.                                                                                  I am not insane.                                                                                                 Just driven to it by being trapped in here for 14 years and counting.                      My thoughts hunt me down. Bully me. Push me. Break me. 

It is a scary place, my mind.                                                                                I am terrified to be left alone here.                                                                        Left alone with these thoughts.                                                                            No longer my own.                                                                                                Were they ever?                                                                                                 How can such vicious things come from me?                                                          These screaming, yelling, screeching things.                                                    They reverberate through my skull.                                                                         Until I cover my ears and beg for mercy.

And

There 

Is

None. 

I scream.                                                                                                                Till the shouting is all I hear.                                                                                    Echoing off these in-shatterable walls.                                                                  Drowning me.                                                                                                 Drowning out everything. Everyone. 

It is a scary place, my mind.                                                                                 A torture chamber.                                                                                                An isolation cell.                                                                                                      A black hole.                                                                                                            I am petrified to be left alone with myself.                                                                Lest these thoughts kill me.

Please

Don’t

Leave.

@writerscreed


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6 years ago

I want to be the friend you fall hopelessly in love with. The one you take into your arms and into your bed and into the private world you keep trapped in your head. I want to be that kind of friend...                                                                                                                                                 ...I want to convince you to design a smile just for me. Yes, I do want to be your friend. I want to be your best friend in the entire world.

Tahereh Mafi, Unravel Me


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6 years ago

The thing I know about Bipolar Disorder is that it's a label. One you give crazy people. Labels like 'Bipolar' say this is why you are the way you are. This is who you are. They explain people away as an illness.

All The Bright Places (Pg. 271-271)


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