#I am haunted by this book I tell you

[frances-baby-houseman]

I watched Never Let Me Go last night for the first time in years and WOW it is so fucked up!! I think about it all the time anyway but like, wow. WOW. I haven't seen or read it since I read anything else by Kazuo Ishiguro and there are so many parallels with Remains of the Day. I think I'll watch that next.

UGH it's so sad and gross and disturbing and I genuinely felt nauseated when you see Cathy as a carer for the patient with an eye patch.

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

Books of 2024: GHOST STATION by S. A. Barnes.

I've been intrigued by this one since the hardback release, but since I'm more of a paperback person I Waited™, intending to preorder said paperback.

Un/fortunately: In the course of my waiting, @asexualbookbird read it, and ey had Beef. Like. Enough Beef that I canceled my preorder and checked out a library copy instead. Library copies suck to photograph, my lighting setup for this was unhinged. So! We'll see how this goes!

[wormmpile]

Sometimes I see someone say something about a piece of media as if it is revelatory mind blowing hot off the press news, and not the most basic obvious point of the work or the most basic obvious allusion, and it makes me roll my eyes a little because I'm like yeah yeah the time knife we've all seen it, and then I have to like physically step in and shake myself and be like actually Susan we have Not all seen the time knife, and anyway someone else is enjoying the wonders of media analysis as a hobby for maybe like. The first time in their life if they're young enough. Don't be a bozo just because you think you're smart. Nerd. Fuckass. If you were a high school english teacher you'd be pissing yourself in joy rn because someone connected the dots. That's so cool that they did that. And I go about my day because I'm normal

[bangcakes]

.

[dontwanderoff]

unfortunately i have just finished rereading the haunting of hill house and am going wild, so am also desperately thinking about haunted houses in all contexts. the tardis as a haunted house HAS to exist in some form of media or fanfic right??

[tleeaves]

So, I have this book (I have quite a few books) that I love and I wish, wish, wish I could lend it to someone I have a crush on so they can read it with all my annotations and leave their own. Consider it me basically asking someone out. That is what me giving you my book is if it's got my pencilled thoughts in the margins.

[surrenderonvinyl]

i finallyyy finished reading rule of wolves and miss leigh bardugo i am going to need that potential third crow book STAT

[walks-the-ages]

OP deactivated, and some of the links were broken/marked unsafe by Firefox, so here's a new compilation post of Leslie Feinburg's (She/her, ze/hir) novels and essays on being transgender:

Stone Butch Blues official free source directly from Author's website:

Stone Butch Blues, backup on the webarchive:

Transgender Liberation: A movement whose time has come, on the web archive:

Transgender Warriors: Making History from Joan of Arc to Dennis Rodman, on the web archive:

Lavender and Red, PDF essay collection:

Drag King Dreams, on the web archive:

(Also, if anyone ever tells you that the protagonist of Stone Butch Blues ""ends up with a man""........ they're transmisogynistic jackass TERFs who are straight up lying)

Please also check out your local public libraries for these books and see if they carry them, to help support public libraries! If you have a library card already you can checkout Libby and Overdrive to see if your public library carries it as an ebook that you can checkout :)

EDIT: another not included on the orignal masterpost-- Trans Liberation: Beyond Pink or blue !

annnnnd in light of the web archive losing it's court case, here's a backup of both PDFs and generated epubs a friend made:

5/26/2023: hello! I am adding on yet another book of queer history, this time the autobiography of Karl Baer, a Jewish, intersex trans man who was born in 1884! Please signal boost this version, and remember to check the notes whenever this crosses your dash for any new updates :)

6/24/2023:

Two links to share!

Someone made an Epub version of Memoirs of a Man's Maiden Years, which you can find Here , as a more accessible version than a pdf of a scanned book if you're like me and need larger text size for reading--

And from another post I reblogged earlier today, I discovered the existence of "TransSisters: the Journal of Transsexual Feminism", which has 10 issues from 1993-1995, and includes multiple interviews with Leslie Feinburg and other queer feminists / activists of the 90s!

Here's a link to all 10 issues of TransSisters, plus a 1996 "look back at" by one of the writers after the journal ended, you can find all 10 issues on the Internet Archive Here !

------

8/28/2023:

"Bi Any Other Name: Bisexual People Speak Out", can be found on the web archive Here, for the 25th Anniversary Edition from 2015,

and also Here, for the original 1991 version.

Each of the above can be borrowed for one hour at a time as long as a copy is available :D

This is a living post that receives sporadic updates on the original, if you are seeing this on your dash, click Here to see the latest version of the post to make sure you're reblogging the most up to date one :)

------------

October, 25th 2023:

"I began to dawdle over breakfast during shift changes, asking both waitresses questions. After weeks of inquiries, they invited me to a demonstration, outside Kleinhan's Music Hall, protesting the Israeli war against Egypt and Syria. I was particularly interested in that protest. The state of Israel had been declared shortly before my birth. In Hebrew school I was taught "Palestine was a land without peo-ple, for a people without a land." That phrase haunted me as a child. I pictured ears with no one in them, and movies projected on screens in empty theaters. When I checked a map of that region of the Middle East in my school geography textbook, it was labeled Palestine, not Israel. Yet when I asked my grandmother who the Palestinians were, she told me there were no such people. The puzzle had been solved for me in my adolescence. I developed a strong friendship with a Lebanese teenager, who explained to me that the Palestinian people had been driven off their land by Zionist settlers, like the Native peoples in the United States. I studied and thought a great deal about all she told me. From that point on I staunchly opposed Zionist ideology and the occupation of Palestine. So I wanted to go to the protest. However, I feared the demonstration, no matter how justified, would be tainted by anti-Semitism. But I was so angered by the actions of the Israeli government and military, that I went to the event to check it out for myself. That evening, I arrived at Kleinhan's before the protest began. Cops in uniforms and plainclothes surrounded the music hall. I waited impatiently for the protesters to arrive. Suddenly, all the media swarmed down the street. I ran after them. Coming over the hill was a long column of people moving toward Kleinhan's. The woman who led the march and spoke to reporters proudly told them she was Jewish! Others held signs and banners aloft that read: "Arab Land for Arab People!" and "Smash Anti-Semitism!" Now those were two slogans I could get behind! I wanted to know who these people were and where they had been all my life! Hours later I followed the group back to their headquarters. Orange banners tacked up on the walls expressed solidarity with the Attica prisoners and the Vietnamese. One banner particularly haunted me. It read: Stop the War Against Black America, which made me realize that it wasn't just distant wars that needed opposing. Yet although I worked with two members of this organization, I felt nervous that night. These people were communists, Marxists! Yet I found it easy to get into discussions with them. I met waitresses, factory workers, secretaries, and truck drivers. And I decided they were some of the most principled people I had ever met..." Transgender Warriors (1996) Leslie Feinberg

[put-me-through-the-wall]

Neighbor!Simon who can't help but roll his eyes the moment he hears the annoying peppy music play at exactly 9:30 every morning through the paper thin walls.

Though he's already been up for hours he missed being able to enjoy his coffee and newspaper quietly.

Simon hearing the bumping and thudding as you get ready for your day and slamming the door on your way out.

Hearing you every time talk on the phone, laughing loudly and talking a million miles a minute.

You getting excited after the multiple failures to strike up a conversation, he finally tells you his name.

Knowing when you came back home by the smell of your dinner wafting through the air vents. He can't deny it made his stomach ache as he munched on his leftover takeout.

His silent appreciation of how you become silent at a decent hour, seemingly out of respect for the quiet hours of the building.

Holding his breath whenever he opening the doors and whispering a prayer hoping not to run into you again and get held hostage in a thirty minute conversation.

How he has begun to memorize your schedule from the types of sounds resonating from your unit so he could dodge you in the halls.

He had to stop using the apartment gym after learning your enjoyment of the treadmill to blow off steam after a long day

As well as your habit of forgetting your headphones causing you to chatter about nonsense the whole time.

Resorting to running a few blocks around the neighborhood instead.

One day jogging his route and catching you in the corner of his eye, hanging on the arm of some guy, around the corner of the building

The irritation rising in him as he considered the noises he would be hearing tonight.

Coming home and taking a shower. When he shuts off the water he hears more noises from across the wall. He can hear you... crying?

He remains still as he hears you sob in your own bathroom, mumbling incoherently to yourself, followed by a few sniffles then starting the shower.

Him, unable to control the pang of sympathy that tightens his chest.

Starting to feel bad about the constant avoidance he decides to let himself be caught up in your conversation in the hallway.

Going to the gym but only on rainy days, and letting you yap on about your friends and how work was going.

Feeling excited when he recognizes a song through the shared wall. Maybe it wasn't that annoying.

One night hearing more strange noises while he sits reading a book in bed.

He hears a quiet whimpering making him feel bad again as it gradually grows louder.

Realizing the whimpering is not from tears when he can make a distinct word clearly slip through the layers of drywall and paint. separating your bed from his.

"S-simon.."

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

A/N: Consider this a 2.5 part to my neighbor!Simon series so far. If this is sloppy I apologize, I am two glasses of wine deep on an empty stomach. I needed to put out something. Simon has been haunting me. Also, I'm sorry part two is taking so long. My mother-in-law has been in town and it's hard to get writing done when there is an extra guest in the house. If you want to be added to a taglist lmk! I believe I am 3/4 done with part two now. <3

[cryptidghostgirl]

The Guilt (Alastor x Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader)

Description: Y/n was the one person he never meant to kill, but Alastor didn't have a choice. Years later, much to his surprise, they run into one another in the depths of Pentagram City.

Warnings: Murder, cannibalism mentioned in a metaphoric sense. Un-detailed descriptions of rotting bodies.

Word Count: 2,701

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

A/N I promise I will get to the rest of the requests soon, I just wanted to write something that has been stuck in my head for a hot minute since I've like only been doing requests the past couple days. I think the only ones I have left are ones that have been sent in since February 15th so I hope that is okay.

Alastor recognized her the minute he first saw her. It had been a year since his arrival in Hell and he was already making waves. Demons avoided him on the streets, shot him fearful glances over their shoulders. He enjoyed the privacy it afforded him, the padding of air around him.

He didn't pay the others mind, focused on his own goals and patterns of being. Friends, relationships, they were far from his top priority but still, Alastor recognized her the minute he first saw her.

In his years of blood soaked escapades in the world of the living, he had wreaked havoc on the world. In all those years, he had only ever made two mistakes. The first had been getting caught, getting killed by that hunter. The second? Had been killing that girl.

He hadn't had a choice. Normally, Alastor chose his victims carefully following a specific criteria. She had been an accident. He had gotten careless one night, cocky even in his streak of successes. Alastor had been transfixed, carving a man's intestines from the cavity of his stomach. The girl had had wide eyes, her mouth open. She had trembled.

Their eyes had met across the darkened street. She had clutched at her coat, pulling it tighter. She hadn't even tried to run.

Alastor never learned her name, avoided all reports on her disappearance and death like the plague. She haunted him. He saw her around corners, when he shut his eyes at night like a vengeful spirit. Always just staring at him with those big, knowing eyes. He didn't need more reminders, more facets of feeling, than he already had.

Alastor had recognized her the minute he first laid eyes on her in Hell. It had taken him a moment to realize she was real, she still looked so deeply human after all. He had never expected her to be here. He had never expected to see her again.

When he opened his eyes and she was still there, sitting placidly at the cafe table, it was like some uncontrollable force pulled him to her. He pulled out the spare chair, falling lazily into it. She looked up at the noise of metal against concrete, curiosity painting her features as she lowered her book onto the table.

"Hello?" she said after a moment, though it was more of a question than a greeting.

Alastor had never heard her voice before except for when she had screamed. It was melodious, it was soft and sweet. His smile grew.

"Yes, hello indeed."

She stared at him with those eyes, those same eyes that had haunted him for years.

"My apologies but, who are you? Do I know you?"

He was unable to keep the surprise from his features. It had been a long time since anyone had asked him something like that, he couldn't tell if she was joking. But then there were those wide eyes, earnest in their honesty.

"No, my apologies. I did not introduce myself. My name is Alastor, quite the pleasure to meet you. Quiet the pleasure."

He grabbed her hand from where it lay daintily across her open book, shaking it in his own.

"Oh!" Y/n lightly exclaimed in response to the action, "Oh, well, Alastor, I am Y/n. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance as well."

The contact broke and Alastor leaned his elbows on the table, resting his chin in his hands.

"Forgive me for saying this but, you seem a bit unsuited for all this mess. Prim and proper. What landed you here?"

"Is that why you've come to join me?"

Alastor nodded after a second's thought. It was an easy cover up for his true motives. Y/n seemed to have no idea who he was after all and to be perfectly honest, even Alastor himself was struggling to understand his motivations. Guilt wasn't an emotion he was familiar with. It was confusing, writhed in the pit of his stomach like a snake.

"Well, thats a rather personal question to ask someone right off the bat, isn't it?"

"I suppose you're right. How about this one then, what are you reading?"

After that day at the cafe, Alastor followed Y/n like a hurt puppy. He didn't rightly know why. It was a compulsion of a sort, he couldn't stop it. She was disinterested by radio, by the newfangled video boxes popping up. She knew nothing of his reputation, she just thought he was a friend. A fairly determined friend, but a friend none the less.

Alastor didn't understand it. He was a man obsessed, not with Y/n per say but with the opportunity she offered. She smelled like making good on past wrongs. That wasn't something Alastor had ever been interested in before. Y/n was the exception. She was always the exception, he supposed.

It wasn't long before their little lunches, their random rendezvous in the streets, carefully orchestrated by Alastor of course, not that she knew, became something more. Spending time with her calmed the raging sea of uncertainty in his gut. Being kind to her felt like salvation.

Alastor had never been concerned with that before, but it was such an intoxicating thing to hear her words of thanks, of praise. To witness her smiles and her apparently unending kindness. They would spend hours pouring over one another's collections of books. They would spend hours in deep philosophic discussion. It was Y/n who first brought up their previous lives.

"Do you ever miss it?" she had asked when they had been making lunch together one day in her apartment.

Alastor's hand had stilled, his knife halfway through the cut of veal he had been handeling.

"Miss what, my dear?"

"Life."

He began to move the knife again, letting out a slight hum of thought.

"Not particularly. I take it you do?"

Y/n leaned over the pot, checking to see if the water was boiling yet for the potatoes. It wasn't and so she turned to him, leaning up against the counter.

"Sometimes." she admitted.

Alastor turned to her as well. The apron over her dress was stained with jam from the times they had baked together just a few days before. Y/n hair was tied up and away from her face. He felt his heart stutter in his chest.

That had been happening a lot lately when he looked at her. Alastor figured it was a progression of guilt, a giving away of it. He figured spending time with Y/n was helping it go away.

It wasn't like it was a burden for him. They actually had a surprising amount in common.

"What do you miss?"

"My mom."

And there it was again, the cannibalistic sickness eating away at his brain.

"Were you two close?"

Y/n nodded, turning her gaze to the window.

"Yeah. She... I didn't have a big family. Or a lot of friends growing up. I was shy, painfully shy. She was... she was all I had. And now she's alone up there."

"What landed you down here?"

Y/n looked back to Alastor, smirking.

"Back to this are we? Only took what, six months?"

"We're friends now, aren't we?"

"Alastor..."

"Shoot me, I'm curious."

Y/n laughed lightly.

"Okay, I tell you, you tell me. Deal?"

Alastor thought it over for a moment. He could always lie to her, make up some story or another but, she was bound to find out eventually. More than anything, he wanted to keep her from connecting the pieces. Y/n figuring things out felt dangerous, it pained him to think about how she would react.

"Deal."

"Okay, um," Y/n looked away again, her hands fiddling with the frilled edge of her apron, "I don't really like to talk about it. It's kind of embarrassing."

"You made a deal."

"Yeah, yeah. I know."

"So spill."

Y/n smiled lightly, meeting Alastor's eyes for a second.

"Well, I was kind of... maybe... sort of... a thief?"

"Really?"

Alastor hadn't expected that. He wasn't quite sure what he had expected to be honest but, it wasn't that.

"Yeah. Times were... tough growing up. Single mom with a kid in the early 1900s? Not everyone was a fan. It was hard for her to find work so I would... supplement. No one suspected the little girl, you know?"

There were two types of demons in Hell. There were the ones that had their demon forms, and then there were the ones like Alastor with more than one form, more abilities, more strength. It was the anger that fed it, the person they were on earth. Alastor had always assumed Y/n fell into the first category but, as she relayed her tale to him, her body began to change. She rotted before his very eyes, becoming a standing corpse with his bones all showing.

"I always felt awful about it but, we didn't really have a choice. You know? I didn't want to do it, didn't like it, but I did it and I was good at it. When I grew up, well, sometimes it is just easier to stick to what you know. I worked for a cleaning service, maids for hire, working parties, stuff like that. I, well, the people I worked for were rich. They didn't need the money but my mother and I certainly did."

It was then she seemed to realize her own changed appearance. Her eyes shot up to Alastor as she retook her original form.

"Sorry about that." she awkwardly laughed, "Guess the guilt is still eating me alive, even in death. So, what'd you do?"

Alastor took a breath, appraising the situation. The guilt, the sense of having truly sinned.

"I was a serial killer."

Y/n's eyes went wide.

"Really? You? But you're so..."

"So what, my dear?"

"So nice."

Alastor stilled.

"Nice?" he repeated.

Even in life, it was a word that few had directed towards him. Polite, yes. Talented, yes. Charming? Of course, but never nice.

At the sound of bubbling from the pot, Y/n turned his back to him.

"Yeah." she shrugged, opening the lid and dropping the potatoes in, "You probably one of the nicest people I've ever met."

The way Y/n saw him was intoxicating. Nice. He began to spend more and more time at her side. It was hard to keep the other half of his life from her but, he managed. It was a delicate balance, a game he knew well.

It was a day about a year later that Y/n approached him, blushing and unable to meet his eyes. It was a year later she told him how she felt and he realized he felt the same. They moved in together, did nearly everything together. It was a happy afterlife for them both. The first time they had kissed, she had tasted like redemption.

Y/n never questioned what Alastor did on his late nights out alone. She trusted his fidelity and when he said he liked going for walks alone in the evening air, she accepted it. When he said he was at work, broadcasting his radio show, she never asked why they didn't have a radio of their own. It was an unspoken agreement, he didn't ask where the money came from and she didn't ask what he did in the long hours he was away.

The guilt felt heavy in the pit of his stomach, growing stronger every day but still, Y/n remained blissfully ignorant. Alastor could practically hear the clock ticking. Every kiss felt like it might be the last, every caress, every meal shared at the kitchen table. He did everything he could, but knew one day she was bound to find out.

Alastor knew the day had come when he entered their lovely home on the outskirts of the Pride ring. He called his usual hello out into the house from the foyer, letting the door fall shut behind him. Y/n didn't come.

"Y/n?" he called, taking a step further into the house, "Are you home?"

All the lights were on. That was something she was careful about from the old days, making sure not to use electricity unless necessary. There was no way she wasn't in the house.

Tentatively, he stepped into the kitchen. She was sitting at the table, her head in her hands.

"Are you alright, my love?"

It was then he noticed the radio on the table.

"Oh."

"Yeah." Y/n sighed, looking up at him, "Oh."

"Where did you get that?"

"Someone dropped it off, left it at the door. I thought it was you originally but, now I'm not so sure."

Someone had left it for her? One of Alastor's numerous enemies was responsible no doubt. He had always been so careful to keep her protected, out of the public eye. It didn't make sense.

"You heard todays broadcast?"

"Oh you mean the screams of innocent demons mixed in with your stories about New Orleans?"

Alastor was silent. Y/n's eyes were rimmed with red, her hair a mess.

"They were far from innocent. Everyone is down here for a reason. Besides, I told you. I'm a killer."

"You didn't tell me you were my killer."

His heart stopped. He hadn't realized exactly how much she'd managed to piece together from the simple broadcast.

"Am I now?" Alastor asked placidly, trying to remain calm as he clasped his hands behind his back.

He didn't know what he was playing at. He was grasping at straws. Y/n got to her feet.

"You never told me you were from New Orleans, just said you grew up in the south. I let it slide but, I shouldn't have. I should have known, the similarities in our experiences... god, I was such a fool! I should have known we grew from the same patch of dirt. Alastor, there was only one serial killer active in the city at the time we were both alive, at the time I died."

"And you think it was me, my heart?"

"Alastor." she crossed her arms.

"I..."

"How could you not tell me?"

Y/n's anger mixed with grief, it misdirected itself, it got caught on the details. It hurt more that he'd been lying to her. The act itself was something to be dealt with later. Now was the time for the lies. They had spent years together, built a life together and the whole time, he had been lying.

"I didn't me-"

"Mean for me to find out?"

"Well, yes." he took a step forward, he tried to grab her hands but she pulled them away.

Y/n's skin was rotting now, she was taking on her other form. It was the first time he'd seen her do it when not remising about the past or telling stories about her mother. He had no idea what she was capable of when in this state.

"But also, I didn't mean to-"

"To what, to kill me? To marry me? To make me fucking trust you?"

"I..."

The world was falling down around him. The one thing he couldn't lose, the one thing he cared about besides himself or his power. The person that meant the most to him.

"My darling, my heart, m-"

"No, Alastor. Just... just stop." she sighed, a hand to her forehead.

She rubbed her temples, exhausted and overwhelmed.

"I'm sorry."

The words were spoken softly but they crashed into Y/n like a speeding truck. They broke her ribs. She lowered her hand.

"I... I need some time."

"No, Y/n, wait. Please."

Again, she brushed off his attempts to hold her, making her way to the door of the kitchen. Alastor followed her out into the hallway.

"Y/n. Please. Please don't leave."

"What, so you can keep up your pity project?" she scoffed, rounding on him, "I am better than that Alastor. I deserve better."

"It... you aren't a pity project. You're my world, I love you."

"No, your world is this city. Your world is running Hell. I... Alastor, I'm leaving."

[misstycloud]

Yandere merman x reader x best friend

———————————————————————

Imagine a darling finding out she’s half-mermaid.

She lives in a small fishing village way out in he country. It’s the kind of town no one ever leaves. You’re born, grow up, and die there. Whole generations of families have lived there since long before.

Her parents are normal folks; father’s sailor and mother’s a stay-at-home wife. But since darlings family is so much like others’, she doesn’t understand why she’s so different. Her mother often jokes about how her first word was ‘sea’ and how she’d find her standing in her crib, staring out the window at the waves crashing into the cliffs.

Darling has been in a constant battle with herself her whole life. Since as long as she can remember she’s had a gripping fascination with the ocean. She can’t help it! Every night when everyone else laid sound-asleep in their beds, did she lie awake and fantasize about sneaking out and disappearing under the dark waves. No matter how hard she tried shutting these thoughts away, they always came back to haunt her.

While her mother thought is was cute and not a problem, it couldn’t be anything more. Her mother didn’t understand- as sweeet as she was. It probably stemmed from her being too busy with darlings younger siblings and doing chores, that she didn’t think of how the village spoke of her daughter. They call her strange and speak of what a waste of beauty on someone like her; she’s no good and you can’t marry her. Her mother didn’t know about how the rest of the kids teased darling. They pulled her her and pushed he on the ground. It wasn’t an unusual occurrence for her to find her school books wet with sea water, since she ‘likes it so much’. The teachers didn’t care either.

The only solace darling can find is in her best friend. He always defended her agaisnt her bullies- which was practically everyone- and stayed by her side, even when he could become affected too. Darling feels he’s too good to her. The times she felt so alone, he was there to comfort her when her confidence was at its lowest. He held her when she cried and patted her back, whispering into her ear about how sweet and beautiful she is.

Then, by chance one day, she meets a merman. She is surprised- merfolk only exists in stories after all! The merman is so inhumanly beautiful. With long hair cascading down his back and a long fish tail. His tail looked very strong, he was no doubt an excellent swimmer. At first she is scared of him, she runs away-ignoring his shouts for her to come back- and keeps to herself in her room. Her family is worried and wonders if something is wrong, but she tells them it’s nothing and that she’s just a little tired. In her room, darling thinks about the merman. How is it possible for him to exist? Was she hallucinating and perhaps he wasn’t real? Are there other mythological creatures out there? After overcoming her initial fear and hesitance, she decides to go back to the beach.

The merman was still there. She dares ask how he can talk and he responds with, “My people don’t speak the way you do, but I have taught myself the language of humans. That’s how I am communicating with you.”

She asks him more questions, all of which he answers truthfully. Or, well, she hoped he wasn’t trying to deceive her. Darling even gained the courage of asking whether the stories of merfolk feastin on human flesh is true, and when the merman confirms it’s indeed true, she backs up. When he notices her alarmed state, he hurriedly add that he would never eat her.

It’s then he hits her with the most shocking reveal of her life. Apparently, he senses mer- blood in her vains.

“….n-no, that can’t be. You must be sensing wrong- I’m human..!”

He sighs. “Merfolk are very intuitive. We always recognise our own kind.”

He reveals that he suspect her of being half- merfolk since the scent of mer is strong on her. Darling thinks it’s laughable, both her parents are perfectly human. It can’t be. Like, she’d notice if one of her parents was a mythological creature with a fish tail as a lower half.

The merman tells her of old stories among his people, of mers who reproduced with humans- whether its be willingly or the human had kidnapped them. The children would always be different. On the surface they appeared like any other human, but on the inside there would constantly be a longing to return to their orgins- the ocean. Darling is conflicted. On one hand she can’t believe what she’s hearing, however, the description of the half- bloods fit her too well.

That night she confronts her father while he’s getting off work. He breaks instantly. She is shocked to discover that her father had an affair with a mermaid whilst being married to her mother. He had discovered her while fishing in an unpopular area and took her with him. He sobs that he couldn’t help it, the mermaid was so enchanting he couldn’t control himself. When the mermaid fell pregnant, he was so scared of what his wife would say when she found out, but when the child came out human, he was puzzled but relieved at the same time. He brought the baby home and played it off as finding it abondoned by the docks.

Darling can’t believe it. Her father was practically a monster. She recalled the tales of kidnapped merfolk held against their will, by the merman. She couldn’t imagine what her birth mother must’ve gone through. Her father begs her not to tell her mother because it would destroy the happy family they’d built.

In the end, she chooses to keep the secret for the time being. The right thing was to tell her mother, but it was also true that it would ruin everything and she didn’t want her younger siblings to grow up in a broken family. The only thing she wanted was for her father to leave her alone and never speak to her unless absolutely necessary. He agreed.

She begins spending all her time by the beach, in the company of the merman. She wondered what his name was, and to her bewilderment, he shrugged and said he didn’t have one. So she decides to give him one herself, Aqualor. It seemed merfolk-y enough. Luckily, the merman didn’t object and smiled instead, accepting the name.

Her best friend is worried though. He can never seem to even catch a glimpse of the love of his life anymore. Where was she? Now that they’d both grown into adults, it became harder to see each other; he had to work to support himself(and her, in the future). He felt horrible about it, but in all honesty he was a little glad the rest of the village didn’t take to her. If they did, surely she would have been taken away from him. Even if she didn’t know it, she was incredibly beautiful. It was impossible for him not to be a little biased, but she truly was the most wonderful thing he’d laid his eyes on. He could only imagine how it’d be if people actually treated her like she looked.

While her best friend felt the separation anxiety, darling count be happier. Finally she had someone who understood her fully. There was someone to relate to when she explained the urge to dive deep beneath the waves and disappear, and how pleasant water felt on her skin. Aqualor understood everything perfectly.

Her best memory was of her first swim with Aqualor. She’d been somewhat sacred in he beginning. Despite her desperate longing for the ocean, she’d never been in it much. It was quite ironic. He’d been so patient with her, never pushing or getting annoyed. He waited until she was more comfortable venturing out in the openness. Now they swam together every day, laughing and playing. Of course, Aqualor was the superior swim more out of the two of them, but darling likes to think she isn’t so shabby herself.

This is how she thought the rest of her life would be like; she and Aqualor enjoying each others company from morning to evening, while she returns home to the village every night. She didn’t have a job- no one would hire her anyway- so why not have fun with your friend? It wouldn’t be the best life, but it’d be peaceful and easy.

However, the ‘easy’ disappeared when Aqualor asked if she’d like to join him in the sea permanently.

“What? What do you mean?” She tilted her head in confusion.

The merman flipped his tail in the shallow water- his upper body was on the sand while the rest of him remained in the water. “Would you not like to come with me? We already spend so much time together, so it would hardly be any different.”

“Yeah, but I can’t just leave. I have to stay with my family.” She glanced back up and could see the tiniest snippet of houses, the village.

“You mean the father who has committed sins, a mother who doesn’t care for your feelings and siblings who forget your existence?” He harshly pointed out. His words stung.

“They’re far from perfect, I know that. But still, I can’t just vanish- I don’t even think I can survive out there!”

He grabbed her hand, his were wet and slightly webbed. It didn’t bother her though.

“Of course you can. Remember your heritage? Besides, I will be there and guide you through it. I will protect you, I will hunt for you. It will just be you and me, happy and content. Doesn’t it sound lovely?”

She went quiet and looked away, unsure.

He continued, “You alway tell me of how the humans treat you. They scorn you and say hateful words about you. That is because you are above them.” He smiled. “You do not belong here- you are mer! You should be with your people.”

“But even if I have mer-blood, I’m still human, look at me.” She stretched out her legs, flexing them and empathising their difference.

“You may have the appearance of a human, you soul, however, it is of a mermaid. You long to be free and to live the life you’ve always meant to live. They can’t keep you here in this…” his voice trailed off to disgust “cage.”

Darling sat and listened to Aqualor’s ramblings. Did he have a point? It’s not like anyone would miss her really. Her friend, yes, but he has so much else to live for. He’s not strange and everyone thinks well of him. He’ll be successful.

“So, what do you say, my coral? Will you join me?”

[crumblinggothicarchitecture]

It's Bothering me so much that Taylor Swift is so fake smart-girl coded, I need to say this:

I have a degree in both Philosophy and English Literature....

She used the term Soliloquy wrong in her song by using it to refer to people espousing nonsense while complaining in an echo-chamber about her.

Instead, a soliloquy is the most honest and introspective a character will ever be. Often the character will stand to the front center of the stage and, as if in a dream, speak openly to themselves (and in respect to the audience) lay out the truth, or the agony of whichever conflict haunts the plot. So, anyway she's just plain wrong in her usage of the term.

I am not giving a sanctimonious soliloquy. Miss Taylor Swift, you are wrong, and I am speaking honestly.

She finishes the lyric "sanctimoniously performing soliloquies I'll never see" and I just want to mention that a soliloquy requires an audience... so she does not know what she is talking about by saying that there is no audience for a soliloquy.

Also, for the record, I don't think Taylor Swift knows anything of substance about Aristotle. I, on the other hand, took a three-hour long oral exam over Aristotle's life work while out-of-my-mind-high on Dayquil and pain meds after a surgery. I got an "A", and, somehow, I lived through that, I doubt the validity of Swift's claims to know anything at all about philosophy. Especially, considering how all her songs are about as deep as a puddle.

She's completely lost her credibility.

The woman did not even finish High School in a traditional, well-rounded way. I think she read a handful of Joe's books and now thinks real highly of herself.

Edit: I don't mean to make fun of her for being dumb. I'm frustrated that she's "stepping on my lawn" and making her legion of fans think that she totally knows what she's talking about when it comes to literary references in her work or philosophy. It's obvious that she does not actually understand the concepts she attempts to engage with.

Her only real literary skill is name dropping actually talented writers or philosophers in her songs.

Edit 2: Since some people want to come on this post and tell me that I am being needlessly pedantic about her use of words. Go away. A soliloquy is an ancient literary form, one which transcends cultures and centuries, and I, as a scholar of English Literature, am in the position to say that Swift is speaking about the form incorrectly. She obviously did not even google the form, it's clear she has very little real acquaintance with half the literature concept or authors she names drops.

Sure, soliloquies can be unreliable (Hamlet's "To Be, or not to be" is the most obvious example). However, the fact of the matter is that soliloquy hinges on the Honesty of the character. Swift writing that it's actually the opposite of honesty proves to me that she has no real idea about the literary form.

[omens-for-ophelia]

"There is a love I reminisce, like a seed I've never sown...

...I wonder how it is I miss, these things I've never known."

'The Stranger' -Lang Leav

just another new AU idea I've had that will not leave me be ☠️

Book collector and conservator Aziraphale Fell comes across piles of old diaries and love letters all written by one A.J Crowley over 200 years earlier about a mysterious 'angel' - and it isn't long before he is feeling things that go far beyond just intellectual curiousity. But he can't be in love with someone who died centuries ago, can he?

(If you're interested in what the writing overlayed says, I've popped it below the cut ❤️)

the diary entry over top says (roughly)

"The house is almost complete, my angel. If only you were here to see it, and if only I were brave enough to tell you that it is all for you - all of it, every brick, board and nail is for you. I am hollowed and shattered by this longing. The soft look on your face when our fingers brush haunts me. Your smile when my palm grasps your own is a revelation. Does your pulse quicken in those delicate wrists, in those rare moments I am near? Can it torment you as it torments me? My every thought is turned your way, and with barely a touch you have crowned me a king among lovesick fools."

tagging my sweeties as always @ineffabildaddy @foolishlovers

[verinarin]

𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦, 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞.

𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞.

cw // contains 2.2 penacony quest spoilers

Angst | years after he vanished, you found solace in the path of trailblaze. the day you departed from the astral express, however was the day another version of him greets you.

Traversing through the stars as a nameless was never something you see for yourself, but alas after years of escaping the pain of loosing you have found peace.

You boarded the express with a bleeding wound, yet departed with a new sense of self. Blazing the path of traiblaze has given you precious memories.

Memories that have become the solace you yearn for and now you reside on a planet far away from your hometown, Penacony.

Your heart still burns for the spirit of trailblazing, spreading the tales you’ve theard upon these past years was your way of keeping the spirit of trailblazing alive.

There’s hundreds of letters you have sent to the nameless who still traverse the sky full of stars, while you blaze paths for the younger generations to yearn to reach the glimmering stars above.

“Miss, is it true that the astral express has two conductors?,” a young boy that perched up to your lap asked.

“Well now we only have one conductor which is pom-pom and a navigator ! The astral express’ current navigator is Miss Himeko,” you smiled softly as you stroked the boy’s hair.

This is a glimpse of your life now, as the local’s beloved storyteller. You could be easily found reading a book or writing at a cafe near your house.

You heard a motherly voice searching for her son, “Now young man it seems that you mother is searching for you, better to go back to her alright,” you pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Alright ! Bye bye Miss Nameless,” he waved as he ran back towards his mother who offered you a thank you smile from afar.

Now you reside back at your table, a letter has found its way to you. Perhaps it was friends from the astral express, but there’s the ‘pom-pom’s signature’ stamp to be found after all.

With a smile you pressed the rim of your coffee filled cup to your lips, it’s been a while since you talked to them. As you place down your cup, a tinge of amberwood lingers in the air.

It was a scent that you found alluring years ago, it made you feel a little bit nostalgic. You close your eyes and let the tale of the past play inside your mind like a movie.

“Excuse me, Miss. Is this seat taken ?,” a voice greeted you, his voice has successfully awaken you from your daydream.

“The seat in front of me ?,” he asked as you flutter your eyes open, to reveal a man dressed in a white shirt.

The collar was unbuttoned slightly revealing a chest that harbours scars across the body, it took you seconds to tilt your head up.

You can’t really make out the man’s face, the sun that shines warmly behind him hinders you from doing so, “Yeah, the seat on your table” he chuckled, as he folded his arms.

His arms were proudly displayed against his chest, his sleeves were rolled up to display his strong arms, clean from any scars. In contrast with his chest.

“Well I’m not meeting anyone, so feel free,” you extend your hand towards the seat in front of you, letting him know that it’s alright for him to sit in front of you.

And so he did, now you could clearly study his face. He has kind eyes, rich brown in colour. His features were strong and rugged yet somehow gentle in nature. His face was decorated with salt and pepper stubble, signifying his old age.

His hair was parted in the middle, it was as long as his neck. You could tell that he cared a lot for his hair, it was well groomed, “Are you not going to ask who I am ?” he smiled as he saw you gazing through himself.

“Ah sorry for staring, you just feel familiar,” you stated honestly before brushing your hair back.

“How so ?” his eyes lingers at you, coaxing you to question more and more about him.

“Can’t tell really,” you’re not going to blabber upon the past that haunts you for so long now, would you ?

Not when you’ve grown this far.

“Heh, such a shame then,” the cadence of his voice, irks your mind. Scratches your heart in some way….

“A shame indeed,” you nodded, your fingers circling the rim of your cup as you await his reply.

“I heard you were once a nameless,” that’s a well known fact by now, at least in the area you live in.

“It was years ago but I'm glad my name still holds some fame, so do you need something from the astral express?” he will not be the first person who makes use of your past to contact the express.

“Nah, I’m just here for your audience,” he spoke, the tone was light yet somehow deep in context, shrouded in mystery.

“Who are you?” you asked the question he yearned the most, his face reflects it perfectly.

“Care to take an educated guess, Miss ?” he cocked his eyebrows as you ruminated through the possibilities.

“You still do the thing huh ?” he chuckled, his face now rested against his palm as he watches you picking apart the past and the future.

“What thing ?” you asked, he spoke those words like he knew you for years, which was odd. He’s a stranger after all.

“The thing where you’ll pout your lips slightly when you’re drowned by your thoughts,” he knew you, knew you well enough and long enough to notice these things.

“Let’s cut to the chase, don’t play games with me old man. Who are you ?” your eyes bore deep into his own, trying to pry the truth out of him.

“Funny, you used to call me that too,” he chuckles, his eyes bore no malice, just a sense of long and yearning.

You only called ‘old man' to a handful of people, but one strikes the most in this case, but it can’t be him.

You refuse it to be him.

You merely stared at him, not wanting to entertain his statement, “Fine, I’ll give out a little tip. I tend to amend things, which is why I am here now, sitting idly in front of you,”

“Amend things ? How could you amend things that are not broken ?” you questioned, the man before you was too relaxed and aloof to be talking in riddles.

“Well you’re not broken per say, but well I am,” the man merely chuckled as he looked down towards the concrete floor.

“So you want me to fix you ?” you ask, your endless pond of patience grew dry by the second.

“Close, but no,” you could see the evident smirk as he kept his gaze down.

“You’re speaking in riddles here sir, some might mistake you as a follower of the enigmata if you keep this up,” this time his eyes trained itself back to yours.

“Well aren’t you still sharp,” he mused, clearly happy that he didn’t need to elaborate on more.

“You’re not him, you can’t be him anymore,” this is a fact, even if this being was him, it is not him.

“Can’t be who ? I’ve been living countless lives before. Be specific would ya ?” the man now let his back rest against the chair, ain’t he comfortable now ?

“You know very well the life I’m talking about,” you sighed, he could be him or even a part of masked fools really.

The masked fools that’s notorious for transforming themselves into one’s beloved.

“Well say that name for old time’s sake, humour this ol’ hound,” never mind, it is him. A masked fool won’t replicate this current body that he made, he’s a stranger to you.

A foreign being.

“You’re not Gallagher, never will be him again as a matter of fact,” that type of wording was not your style to use, you felt bad for speaking those truths.

“Ouch that stings, I was him y’know,” he lips pouted, while his arms are folded against his chest. Yet his gaze still placed snugly into you.

“Past tense,” you quipped, well you felt bad about the cold demeanour, but still how would someone act in this situation ?

“Touché,” he laughed, now from his mannerisms. It reminds you of Gallagher, but he’s not him.

This man is well put, smells expensive, and it seems like he does not drink that much. When you think about it, the man before you resembles the qualities that you find attractive in a man.

As wouldn’t you know it, you told this list to Gallagher over a drink years ago.

“Let me ask you this once more, who are you ?” your stern voice was something he never listened to, but he welcomed it warmly.

“Whoever you want me to be,” he smiles, his voice sounds like he was teasing, but you know deep down that it is true.

“Why are you here ?” the question that has been clouding your mind since the reveal.

“To see through another fiction with you as my main muse,” his voice draws deeper than before.

The gravity of his statement was heavy, it made your heart stop for a mere second just to make sense of it all.

His eyes softened as he saw your shock ridden expression, your hands trembled, unsure with what to answer. He finds his way to hold them gently.

It felt nostalgic, even though the hand that held yours was not the same as before, it felt like home.

“To fabricate a new page in history, to make amends for the past, to see through another life. I’m here to live another life with you, to grow old by your side,” he continues, somehow the display of loyalty soothed your trembling hands.

“And even after death, I’ll wait for you to be reborn back into my arms, forever more,” his warmth left your hand as he stood up from his chair.

He walked towards your side, your hands now placed perfectly against your lap as he kneels before you.

“That is my reason,” he leaned down, bringing your fingertips towards his lips.

“Own my heart once more, dearest,” he begged.

The man begged for a chance once more.

[parkerslatte]

Ends of the Earth

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: mentions of blood and death. mentions death of children.

Summary: Azriel comes back from a mission bloodied and bruised but tries to push his wife away. Y/N doesn’t let up and refuses to leave his side.

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

•••

Y/N was relaxing in her and Azriel’s bedroom when the front door opened. She pulled her eyebrows together in confusion, her husband was not meant to return until the morning. Dressed in only her nightgown and slippers, Y/N padded through the house and to the living area. Azriel stood in the doorway, his hand lingering on the handle, his gaze cast to the floor. 

“Az, honey?” Y/N said. 

Azriel didn’t respond as he slowly closed the door, locking it firmly behind him. That was when Y/N saw it, his leathers covered in blood, some of it was not even dry as it dripped onto the wooden floor below his feet. 

“Azriel,” Y/N said, stepping further into the room. 

Once again Azriel did not respond though his gaze did meet his wife’s. Y/N gasped at the sight. A large bloody gash stretched across Azriel’s cheek. Y/N rushed over and gently cupped Azriel’s uninjured cheek. “Sweetheart, what happened?”

Azriel pulled away. “It doesn’t matter.” He brushed past Y/N. “I’m taking a bath.”

For a brief moment, Y/N gaped at his cold behaviour. Usually he would welcome her with open arms, even if he was bloody and bruised. This sort of behaviour was unusual for Azriel. 

“Azriel, stop for a moment,” Y/N said, reaching to catch his hand. 

Just as her fingers brushed his, Azriel flinched away. “Please leave me alone, Y/N. I have had a long day.”

“I just want to make sure that you are okay,” Y/N said, stepping closer to her husband. “I can clean the gash on your cheek.”

“I said I’m fine,” Azriel said, his tone making Y/N flinch. 

Y/N watched him walk away and into the bathroom, the lock echoing through the house. Standing in the living room for a moment longer, Y/N returned to their bedroom. She could hear the water running into the bath before it shut off completely. Y/N wanted nothing more than to break down the door and go and wrap Azriel in her arms and pull him close to her. But she also recognised that Azriel might need some space for now. 

So Y/N picked up her discarded book and cracked it open and began to read, though her mind was faraway. 

***

It was not for another hour until Y/N heard Azriel exit the bathroom. As soon as he entered their bedroom, Y/N closed her book. She sat up from where she had been leaning against the pillows stacked against the headboard and focused on Azriel. The blood was washed from his face and body but the gash was still very prominent. The angry red surrounding it hadn’t faded even with his speedy healing. 

“Do you want to come and lay with me?” Y/N asked. “Or I could make us some dinner? I have not eaten yet.”

Azriel pulled on his pyjama bottoms, the plaid pattern was faded and worn. “I’m going to sleep in the guest room tonight.”

“Why?” Y/N asked. 

Azriel did not even lift his gaze to look at her as he answered. “I do not want to sleep in here tonight.”

His words sent a dagger to her heart. However, she pushed away her own feelings as she heard the tired and defeated tone of Azriel’s voice. “Honey, you can speak to me. You do know that, don’t you?”

“I don’t want to speak to you,” Azriel snapped. “I don’t know why you aren’t understanding about that.”

Y/N frowned. “I know that you are hurting, Azriel, I can see that haunted look in your eyes. But I am your wife, you do not speak to me like that. All I want to do is help you.”

Azriel sighed and ran a hand down his face. “I know and I’m sorry. I did not want to snap at you.”

Y/N patted the bed next to her. “Why don’t you come and lay with me? You don’t need to talk if you don’t want to, but I can tell how much you want to rest.”

Azriel met her eyes for a split second before nodding. He shuffled over to the bed and climbed on it next to Y/N. He laid on his side, but he soon began to shuffle closer to accommodate his wings and so he could get close to Y/N. Close enough to rest his head on her lap. The moment Y/N threaded her fingers through his hair, Azriel could not fight off the tears. 

“Oh, my love, what happened?” Y/N asked softly. 

“They were dead when I got there,” Azriel whispered. 

Y/N wrapped her arms around Azriel and pulled him closer to her, not his head nestled in the crook of her neck. In the time Y/N had known Azriel and had been married to him, she had only ever seen him breakdown to quite this level only a handful of times. Of course he would always try to talk through his emotions with her to the best of his ability, but at times like these, it was difficult for him. 

“They were all slaughtered,” Azriel whispered, clutching onto Y/N like a child would clutch onto a pillow, seeking as much comfort as he could. “Women, children, elderly fae, they were dead.”

Y/N lowered her head to his, pressing her lips against his skin. She didn’t need to say anything. She knew not to say anything knowing that if she did while Azriel was in this state, he would only revert back to complete silence. 

“Before I left, I heard someone calling out,” Azriel explained. “At first I thought it could have been one of the people I was sent there to stop, but the closer I got I realised it was an older woman. She was calling out for her grandson. Her entire torso was slashed open and there was absolutely nothing I could have done. She was so desperate to get to her grandson, to see her grandson one last time, that when she looked at me-” Azriel cut himself off as a sob broke through his speech. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” Y/N whispered, her own tears springing to her eyes. She hated seeing Azriel in this state, she knew what his job entailed, she always did and she was never put off by it. But the one thing she did hate was how it sometimes made Azriel feel. The few times he had come home, sobs wracking his body, she had been there to piece him back together, no matter how long it took. Y/N never wanted to think about what Azriel did before she met him. As far as she knew, Azriel had never opened up to anyone else about how he felt about particular jobs.

“When she looked at me,” Azriel continued once he calmed down, “she mistook me for her grandson. She asked me to hold her hand, to be with her when she passed. She was so happy to see her grandson alive and unharmed, I couldn’t tell her that he was laying just a few feet from her, his own torso slashed open. After she passed I found the men who did it and slaughtered all of them.”

Y/N stilled for a moment. She couldn’t begin to imagine how bad the scene must have been for Azriel not to leave anyone alive for questioning. 

“And everything got me thinking,” Azriel continued to Y/N’s surprise. “About what I would do if you were ever in that position. If you ever get hurt or killed, and I am not there to stop it. You shouldn’t be with someone like me, my presence puts you in constant danger.”

“Don’t you dare think that, not even for one second, Azriel,” Y/N said. “Yes, it is true that there will be enemies of yours that know the best way to get to you is through me. I knew the risks when I married you, but that did not stop me because I love you. And I know that if I fail to protect myself, you will fight to the ends of the earth to keep me safe no matter what.”

“I will always put you above anyone else,” Azriel said. 

“I know,” Y/N said sadly. “But for tonight, Azriel, put yourself above me. I know your self destructive behaviour, I witnessed it first hand when I first began to show interest in you. You think my need is to stay safe and to do that you believe it to be away from you. But that is where you are wrong, it is where you have always been wrong.  Never feel safer than I am with you, my love. Your number one need is to feel loved and secure, and you push it away to prioritise my safety and wellbeing. You punish yourself for not being good enough, you think you don’t deserve to be loved, to be wanted. But you are.”

Y/N paused for a moment as Azriel adjusted himself in Y/N’s arms. Favouring to rest his head on her chest instead. Y/N wrapped her arms around him tightly, making him feel secure.

“For once, Azriel. Put your needs above mine, because I know exactly what they are and I know you deserve it,” Y/N finished. 

“I don’t know how to do that,” Azriel muttered, his voice hoarse. 

“You have already started, you haven’t pushed me away yet,” Y/N whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head. 

“I don’t want to push you away,” Azriel admitted. “I only ever want to pull you closer.”

“I don’t think it's possible to get any closer at this point,” Y/N said, cracking a small joke to try and get her husband to smile.

Although it didn’t make him smile, he still huffed out a small breath of air before attempting to pull her closer. His arms wrapped more securely around her waist. 

“All I want is this,” Azriel said. “I don’t want to be anywhere else.”

“You can,” Y/N said. “ We can stay here as long as you like.”

“But my duties,” Azriel said. “I can’t abandon them.”

“You are not abandoning them. Think of it like taking a short break. Because you do need a break, my love. I’ve seen the way the light has dimmed in your eyes these past few months,” Y/N replied. 

“I don’t know how to do that,” Azriel said. “I don’t know how to relax.”

“Are you relaxed now?” Y/N questioned.

There was a small pause before Azriel answered, “Yes.”

“Then you have already made a start,” Y/N said, her nails scratching his scalp slightly. As she did so she felt even more tension leave Azriel’s body.

“I only feel relaxed when I’m with you,” Azriel confessed. 

“Well then, I guess I’m never leaving your side,” Y/N said. “I can’t see any downside to that.”

Azriel shuffled a little so he could lift his head to finally look in Y/N’s eyes. And there it was, that small bit of light that had slowly been extinguished, was being brought back to life and it flickered within the shades of brown and green that made up his beautiful hazel.

“How did I ever get so lucky to be in your life?” Azriel asked.

Y/N caressed his face, her finger lightly brushing over the gash on it. “I think you are mistaken, sweetheart. How did I get so lucky to be in your life? You may be called the shadowsinger, but you, Azriel, are the light of my whole life.”

At that statement, Azriel’s eyes seemed to water as he pressed his head back on her chest, his lips lightly grazing her collarbone.

“I know you can hear my heart,” Y/N said as she cradled his head against her chest. “And it beats only for you.”

“I love you beyond words, Y/N,” Azriel whispered as he caressed her wrist and pressed a soft kiss to it. “I don’t believe I can ever truly express how much you mean to me.”

Y/N smiled and laced her fingers with his. The wedding ring on his finger shined in the light. “You already have, and you continue to do it every day by being my husband. You are the love of my life, Az. There is no one else I have known that has ever compared to you and no one else ever will. I adore you and will for the rest of our lives.”

This time, Azriel did not try to argue anything. Though he didn’t speak any words, the soft caress of his thumb over her knuckles conveyed so much more than just a simple loving touch. Just from his silence alone and that simple touch, Y/N smiled. Azriel finally realised how loved he is. And now, after all this time, he realised that he truly deserved it.

[not-the-cheese]

one sentence(ish) summaries of every magnus archive episode PART 2

(eps 61-110) thank u for the funny comments and tags on the last part i love u guys

the rest of these may take a while as i've caught up to where i am currently in the podcast but i will finish them like in a month i promise

----

61. the thrilling sequel to man does not open coffin: man DOES open coffin.

62. surely this doctor can find an easier way to scam people out of money than putting them in a little book.

63. THE DARK ATE MY BROTHER IN LAW.

64. this is possibly the plot of laura croft tomb raider

65. mmm crumchy

66. what's the opposite of an unboxing video

67. as close to a coffeeshop au as you're going to get from this podcast

68. Doctors hate him! Man REFUSES to die from tuberculosis!

69. your college's psych department has the worst idea ever.

70. reverse death note

71. not even death will stop this woman from taking the british subway

72. man doesn't want to be low key racist in his last moments before getting eaten

73. police versus the second coming of dark jesus

74. lady is haunted by an ad for coffee

75. mike crew says "uh fuck it let's just put this guy on a skyscraper forever"

76. ryan from buzzfeed unsolved breaks into a train yard and suffers consequences

77. you're not a enough of a bitch to be my real mom

78. man gets harassed by his cousin and then exorcises him

79. you know that chase scene in scooby doo with the doors

80. stupid idiot motherfucking jurgen leitner

81. i have been personally victimized by the sequel to the hungry hungry caterpillar

82. pov: elias threatens to cancel you

83. mannequin takes matters into its own hands after people don't like its pitch for a new window display

84. a hoarder put newspaper on my friend's face :(

85. hey there's maybe a little man upon these stairs?

86. man gets got by a squiggly thing in the dark.

87. plumber is so oblivious to spooky happenings around him that it possibly saves his life.

88. guys i think this guy likes to dig

89. lesbian investment banker finds a new, less evil job: arson!

90. guy who turns people's bones starts a gym where he promises not to turn your bones! (he is lying)

91. i was stalked by lightning for 10 years and i all i got were these stupid scars

92. jonah magnus is a bad friend // another day another elias slay

93. ocd is no match for purple fuzz

94. let the bodies drop gently to the floor let the bodies drop gently to the floor

95. im so sorry my brain refuses to remember what the war ones were about but i think one guy got gently kissed on the forehead so that's pretty nice.

96. diversity wins! the not-quite-human delivery men who stole your identity and business are maybe gay?

97. man gets gaslighted by an entire town about a hole

98. 🎶mister sandman bring me a dream, actually don't, please stay far from me 🎶

99. another one bites the dust

100. archival assistants face off against the general public (they lose)

101. jon finally levels up high enough to unlock an eldritch horror's tragic backstory

102. LOCAL MAN MARRIES BUG

103. peppa eats a clown and they cover her in concrete instead of congratulating her.

104. pennywise stole my brother's skin

105. it's world war z baby

106. Something Big Is In Space.

107. man is interrogated about the time he saw thomas the train roasts people alive and also sans is there

108. actor is stalked by mask who liked his monologue so much that it tells its mask friends to come watch.

109. sometimes a family is just a serial killer's daughter and that guy who maybe killed some vampires

110. yeah man those spiders be eating

Part 1 |