Addie Larue - Tumblr Posts

ships where the human is scarier and more intimidating than their super powerful lover who could crush the world in the palms of their hand, my beloved

Addie and the Darkness 🌙🖤

The Night Itself | The Darkness from the Invisible Life of Addie LaRue

The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue

Darling, I was the Night Itself

You, a memory that was not mine to keep.

~But that does not stop me from trying to remember

(Inspired by The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue)

If no one heard it, did it happen?

If a person cannot leave a mark, do they exist?

(The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue by V.E. Schwab)

Proof of my existence:

I am my unmade bed

My week old unfolded laundry that was Fresh once

I am the disappointment in my mothers eyes

And the scars I have left on lovers and strangers

I am my clothes I have donated

And my compilation of pintrest boards the innocent scroller will accidentally stumble across

I am the the jokes I penciled into the walls of my middle school bathroom stall

I am the dust I leave behind

Dead skin cells, reminder that they were living once

I was living once

I had once had the pleasure of laying my palm against the surface of something tangible and it felt the contact as much as I did

I am the peices of myself I have left scattered in the people I have let hold me

Long enough for parts of me to become caught under their fingernails and in their eyelashes

I am not my mistakes

But I am their consequences

I am shrapnel scars left by the promises I shattered

I am the pastries I have bought

My coin accumulating into something greater than it once was

And in that small way I make someone's dream a reality

And in that small way I am immortalized

I am the corners of novel pages I have folded

And the sentences I have left highlighted and the notes I have scrawled in its margins

I am the half finished stories I wrote in the 6th grade

I am my poetry

And the things I have discarded

I am my clouded breath dancing on the cold wind momentarily before dissipating

As it becomes one with the ether forever adrift

And in that small way I am immortalized

I am my embarrassing childhood photographs

I am the energy you spent on me and the time you wasted on us

I am the things I have created but perhaps more the absence left in the wake of the things I have destroyed

I am the stains I have left and the sins I have committed

Out of spite, out of desperation, frivolously or unwittingly.

I am the way my name burns yours tounge when your mouth tries to wrap itself around its pronunciation and the scalding memories

I am

I was

here.

I fell in love with the dark by accident.

I didn't mean to.

But its the sort of thing that happens

After spending too many years with someone.

And it begins to feel like forever.

After you spill every secret to someone and they do not let a drop slip through their fingers.

Falling in love is the sort of thing that happens when you unravel in front of someone and they sit with you as you stitch yourself back together. How many times did I come undone in his arms?

The sort of thing that happens when someone finds you over and over again. A loyal companion. No matter how lost you believe you are. No matter where you hide yourself. Like you are something worth searching for. How he poured himself through every crevice to reach me. How he blacked out the world to give me a moment to catch my breath.

It is the sort of thing that happens when someone comes back to you no matter the sins they have watched you devour in the pits of your insatiability. For how many Transgressions has he seen me feast upon in his presence and still stayed the night.

Falling in love is the sort of thing that happens when someone has seen you stripped to your soul and has stayed.

When someone listens till the dawn to all the things you cannot voice in the light.

The sort of thing that happens when you let someone hold you in the silence of the night for centuries. Become unable to fall asleep without them.

When you let someone into your bed and slowly it becomes theirs too. Intertwining himself with my limbs under the heavy covers.

The sort of thing that happens when someone memorizes the curve of your waist and the planes of your face, so they can trace them without the interference of the light.

When someone wraps themselves around your existence and does not ask questions. does not speak of expectations.

And isint it funny. The sorts of things that become clear when you are not blinded by the brilliance of the sun.

I fell in love with the dark by accident.

I didn't mean to

But its the sort of thing that happens

When you meet someone as terrified and untrusting of what lurks in the depths of themselves as you

I fell out of love with the dark by accident.

I didn't mean to

But it is the sort of thing that happens

After spending too many years with someone

And it begins to feel like forever

After giving every secret away and being gifted only with silence in return

It is the sort of thing that happens when their constant presence in the corners of the room starts feeling alot like being haunted by your own shadow

When being caught in their gaze starts to feel alot like drowning in a blackhole.

When you start to dread the setting of the sun. And the suffocating silence of the dark that makes you feel like you are already 100ft below ground. He leans over me to press kisses down my body and all I can do is think of the coffin pressing in to me. So I turn on all the light but he is still there resting behind my eyelids.

I fell out of love with the dark by accident.

I didn't mean to

But it is the sort of thing that happens

When looking at someone begins to feel too much like facing the truth of what you have become

The sort of thing you realize standing in shower with all the lights off.

That you have been taking comfort in absences.

That you have been rendezvousing with wounds, and finding homes in hollows.

That you have been filling the empty with the empty.

That you are still alone.

For does the devil not simply give us what we ask for?

For does the devil not find us all on our knees?

If no one heard it, did it happen?

If a person cannot leave a mark, do they exist?

(The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue by V.E. Schwab)

Proof of my existence:

I am my unmade bed

My week old unfolded laundry that was Fresh once

I am the disappointment in my mothers eyes

And the scars I have left on lovers and strangers

I am my clothes I have donated

And my compilation of pintrest boards the innocent scroller will accidentally stumble across

I am the the jokes I penciled into the walls of my middle school bathroom stall

I am the dust I leave behind

Dead skin cells, reminder that they were living once

I was living once

I had once had the pleasure of laying my palm against the surface of something tangible and it felt the contact as much as I did

I am the peices of myself I have left scattered in the people I have let hold me

Long enough for parts of me to become caught under their fingernails and in their eyelashes

I am not my mistakes

But I am their consequences

I am shrapnel scars left by the promises I shattered

I am the pastries I have bought

My coin accumulating into something greater than it once was

And in that small way I make someone's dream a reality

And in that small way I am immortalized

I am the corners of novel pages I have folded

And the sentences I have left highlighted and the notes I have scrawled in its margins

I am the half finished stories I wrote in the 6th grade

I am my poetry

And the things I have discarded

I am my clouded breath dancing on the cold wind momentarily before dissipating

As it becomes one with the ether forever adrift

And in that small way I am immortalized

I am my embarrassing childhood photographs

I am the energy you spent on me and the time you wasted on us

I am the things I have created but perhaps more the absence left in the wake of the things I have destroyed

I am the stains I have left and the sins I have committed

Out of spite, out of desperation, frivolously or unwittingly.

I am the way my name burns yours tounge when your mouth tries to wrap itself around its pronunciation and the scalding memories

I am

I was

here.

After finishing Addie LaRue I am 100% sure that Luc and the Darkling are the same person.

Manipulative, related with darkness , hundred of years old, powerful, think that they are in love with the protagonist but they really just don't want to be alone , unable to love because they care only about themselves, don't consider their love interests as their equals and obviously they both are PIECES OF SHIT

Henry Strauss 🤝 Elizabeth Schuyler

Doing everything in their power to tell their lovers' story

Everytime I think of this scene in my head I imagine it sounding like the most gut wrenching desperate pleading scream and it kills me a little more every time

No matter how desperate or dire, never pray to the gods that answer after dark.

I've always wanted to draw this scene, and I've been trying to practice backgrounds so the forest setting was perfect. I also really like the way the 2nd panel turned out!

THIS

I’m sorry but the people who read Addie Larue and walked away saying she had no depth or no motivation or wtf ever lack basic reading comprehension skills. The book literally mentions multiple times that she is operating on pure spite. There are multiple times she wants to give in but doesn’t because there is more beauty to be seen and more ways to make Luc mad about the fact that she won’t give in. “She never does anything important.” Girl is literally fighting the ocean alone. No one can remember her, but she still wakes up and gives her heart to people who see her as a stranger. Over 300 years and she doesn’t stop trying to experience love and happiness. God, you must be so miserable and end result motivated to not see how good this character is.

Do you ever start reading a book but you don't want to continue reading it, not because it's bad, but because it's so good you know you'll never get over it after it ends??

I've loved so many of them

book quotes that i will never recover from

"he is half of my soul, as the poets say. " - song of achilles

"write me a letter telling me how to live the rest of my life without you." - how to make friends with the dark

"they were my birthday presents." - shatter me

"she had realized that she had forgotten the precise blue of his eyes and the depth of his laugh." - clockwork princess

"my name is sam cortland... and i will not be afraid." - assassin's blade

"you chose me four years ago. would you choose me still?" - these violent delights

"we were all supposed to make it." - crooked kingdom

"i remember everything." - the invisible life of addie larue

"come home and shout at me. come home and fight with me. come home and break my heart, if you must. just come home." - cruel prince

"i wasted all those yesterdays and am completely out of tomorrows." - they both die at the end

"you hated the idea of me." - the final gambit

"bob says hello." - house of hades

"abuse can feel like love. starving people will eat anything." - nightfall

"i missed you only with an ocean between us. but if death was separating us... i would find you." - queen of shadows

"i loved him. i love him. as best i could." - we were liars

"i'm the villain, even in my own story. but you were supposed to play a different role." - finale

"i will find you again in the next world—the next life. and we will have that time. i promise." - a court of wings and ruin

"i spent half of my time loving her and the other half hiding how much i loved her." - the seven husbands of evelyn hugo

ADDIE LARUE MENTIONED ⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️

Addie LaRue

the happiness i get when i buy books is something else entirely