#i couldn’t stop thinking of them and this song

[chibi-celesti]

The Heart Speaks

Summary: He isn’t one to talk about his feelings. But as the day of your eventual departure back to your world comes, Ace decides to come clean in a way he knows you’d understand. Title based off the song of the same name.

If you were to tell Ace Trappola, resident troublemaker and school renowned prankster, he’d fall in love with the ‘Magicless’ prefect of Ramshackle Dorm, he’d clock you for even mentioning that. Him, in love, after his last failed attempt at romance in middle school? As if!

So why did the idea of you going back home make his heart do somersaults and hands get clammy? Why does he always dream about you having the chance to go home, but also visit Twisted Wonderland whenever you want? Why did the idea of losing you…cause a huge hole in his heart to form?

As the days marched on, and every Overblot defeated, the questions kept looming over his head. He tried to ignore them, and play them off, but he was forever stuck in this loop for days on end. It wasn’t until STYX’s siege on Night Raven and you running away to save Grim and the others that the realization hit Ace on the head.

He really was in love with you.

The day was here, and he loathed it. You were so happy to finally go back home, it made Ace want to vomit. Crowley mentioned you would be leaving tomorrow morning. Too soon, the Ace of Hearts thought to himself while lying in his bed. He tossed aside his blankets and slowly snooped out of Heartslabyul. Riddle collaring him again be damned; he needed to see you!

He knocked on your door like a madman, hoping you were up. He waited a few minutes before doing it again. Once he heard the sounds of locks coming undone, he stopped; his gaze fixed onto yours the moment the door opened.

‘Ace? What are you doing here?! It’s 3 in the morning!!’ You whispered as you let him inside, both confused and angry at him. Confused by why he’s up so late, and angry at him for banging on your door like a madman. He didn’t say anything, his mind trying to find the words to say. You walked over to him, brows furrowed in concern. “Ace? You ok-”

You were stopped by a sudden pair of lips on yours, and being held tightly in an embrace. Your eyes were wide in shock by the suddenness of it all, you gently placed your hands on Ace’s shoulders to keep yourself steady. Was this a dream? Was any of this real? After what felt like eternity, he finally pulled away, the both of you breathing heavily in the sleeping dorm. Gazing into his eyes, you could see the endless rush of pent up feelings and fear within Ace. Even under your palm, his heartbeat was erratic.

“...”

“...”

There was a moment of silence between you two, until Ace spoke his true feelings to you. “A glass of wine, I want to share with you. A single heartbeat, I want to share with you.”

You brought a hand to your mouth, shocked to hear what he’s saying! Your other hand clenched in a fist; your mind flooding with mixed feelings.

Bowing your head into his chest, you said: “You…are such a jerk! You’re telling me this now?! Even though I…even though I…” Tears weld in your eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“What?”

“Even though there’s a slim chance I can come back here, why didn’t you tell me how you felt?!”

“You do know who you’re talking to, right?” You stare at him with a pout. “Ugh, fine. I didn’t say anything cause what would be the point? I wanted you to be happy since I know you missed your family and home. How could I get in the way of that?”

“...”

“I want you to be happy, even if I can’t bring that happiness…” Ace looked away with a blush. “I get that you wanna go home, but I couldn’t bear not telling you and regret it after the fact, right?”

“What you said just now, that was from my home. I didn’t think you’d try and learn that.”

“Course I did. And,uh, would it be weird to say I learnt it during the VDC.”

You hoped your ears were working right now when he said that. “Since then?!” You asked.

“...Yes.” He heard you laughing. “What’s so funny?”

“Sorry, sorry. It’s just,” You moved your arms so you could pull him in a hug. “It’s really sweet you did that just for me.”

“Yeah, that’s right!” He wrapped his arms around you, too. “You better appreciate it!” He said with his signature grin before his voice became somber. “Despite you leaving tomorrow, I really like you.”

“Me too. I like you, too, Ace.”

You both took to the sofa in the lounge, holding each other in the tight space, cherishing each other til your time together came to an end.

[batboysanonymous]

Birds of a Feather

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel was a complication Y/N never asked for, a shadow that haunted her steps with the weight of everything unspoken between them. But when the line between hate and desire begins to blur, she realizes too late—he was never her enemy to begin with.

Based on the song: BIRDS OF A FEATHER by Billie Eilish

───────────────────────────────

I want you to stay

'Til I'm in the grave 'Til I rot away, dead and buried

The tension between them was a living, breathing thing. It clung to Y/N’s skin like the mist that rolled in from the Sidra, thick and inescapable, filling every inch of space between her and the male who had spent the last century making her want to scream in frustration—or maybe something far more dangerous.

Azriel stood across from her now, his arms crossed, his jaw tight. He always looked like that around her, like he was seconds away from either killing her or shoving her against the nearest surface.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she snapped, shifting her weight on her feet, trying to ignore the way his shadows curled around his shoulders like they were whispering her name.

Azriel cocked his head, his lips curving in something that wasn’t quite a smirk but close enough to make her chest tighten. “Like what?”

“Like you’re—” She cut herself off, exhaling sharply. “Like you’re trying to figure out if I’m worth the trouble.”

Something dark flickered in his hazel eyes. “I know exactly how much trouble you are.”

Y/N’s fingers twitched at her sides, itching to throw something at him. Or to pull him closer. She couldn’t decide which would be more satisfying. “Then why the hell do you keep looking at me like that?”

Azriel was in front of her before she could take another breath, his scent of night-chilled wind and cedar filling her lungs. He wasn’t touching her, not yet, but his presence pressed against her like an unseen force. “Because I don’t know if I have the strength to stay away from you.”

Birds of a feather, we should stick together, I know

I said I’d never think I wasn’t better alone

Y/N had always told herself she didn’t need anyone. That she was stronger alone.

Azriel tested that resolve at every turn.

He didn’t make things easy for her, never had. He challenged her, provoked her, made her blood simmer in a way no one else ever had.

And yet, she still found herself drawn to him.

Which was why she should have seen it coming when he cornered her in the training ring after yet another spar that had ended with neither of them winning—just bruised, breathless, and dangerously close to breaking whatever thread kept them from falling into something they couldn’t come back from.

“Say it,” he murmured, voice low, rough.

Y/N swallowed hard, heart slamming against her ribs. “Say what?”

“That you want me.” Azriel’s wings flared slightly, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “That you think about me when you shouldn’t.”

Y/N clenched her jaw, hating how easily he saw through her. Hating that she wanted to give in.

“I don’t,” she lied.

Azriel exhaled sharply, a humorless chuckle escaping him. “You’re so full of shit.”

Before she could stop herself, she reached out, gripping the front of his tunic and pulling him closer. The moment his body pressed against hers, the world tilted on its axis.

His breath hitched. Her own lungs burned.

And then he kissed her.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t sweet.

It was fire and fury and the answer to every unspoken thing that had passed between them.

And I don’t know what I’m crying for

I don’t think I could love you more It might not be long, but baby, I I’ll love you ‘til the day that I die

Y/N should have known it wouldn’t be simple.

Loving Azriel was never going to be easy.

It was in the way he hesitated before reaching for her, as if he still wasn’t convinced he was allowed to have her. In the way his shadows wrapped around her in sleep, possessive even when he was unconscious. In the way he always looked at her like she was both the best and worst thing that had ever happened to him.

“You don’t have to stay,” he told her one night, his voice quiet, almost too quiet.

Y/N frowned, shifting onto her side to look at him in the dim candlelight. “Do you want me to leave?”

Azriel was silent for a long moment. Then, so softly she almost didn’t hear it—

“If you go, I’m going too.”

Her throat tightened.

Because she knew he meant it.

Because she had never wanted to stay anywhere more.

So she reached for him, her fingers threading through his, her lips brushing over his scarred knuckles. “Then I guess you’re stuck with me.”

Azriel exhaled slowly, and when he kissed her again, it felt like a promise.

One she had no intention of breaking.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

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[shinwonderful]

Freedom of Choice

prologue to Heavy is the Heart (That Wears the Crown) [masterlist coming soon]

part of you hoped you'd be able to avoid this aspect of royalty, but it was inevitable. they would never allow the sole heir to the kingdom of evermoor to remain unmarried. all you can hope for is that one of the suitors you meet will be the true love you've always dreamt of.

⁺✦ seventeen x reader (cyoa style!) ⁺✦ word count: 3.3k ⁺✦ genre: historical, kind of a mix of everything lol ⁺✦ warnings: shitty parents, forced marriage, mention of being pressured into intimacy, i promise i'm not a royalist i just think historical stories of nobility are v romantic

જ⁀➴┊ [🐈] happy valentine's day!! this series has been in the works since november, and i'm so excited to finally post the prologue! this series has come to be very close to my heart, and i'm really excited to share it with you guys!

special thanks to @lovewithoutresin my beautiful bestie for editing and writing the dialogue for the reader's Handmaiden! I love that this series has a piece of you in it too MWAH!!

the prologue and a certain upcoming chapter are dedicated to the lovely @ylangelegy for inspiring me to pick up writing (on tumblr) again after nearly a decade (christ alive i'm old. 💀). if they hadn't been so supportive and expressed interest in this story, i'd likely not have written it. happy valentine's day ilysbbbb

dividers by saradika!

each chapter of this series will have a (relatively lol) period-accurate theme and costume.

this chapter's theme is Fauré: Après un Rêve (ca. 1870).

"A song about devotion and passion. The dreamer yearns for the return of her dreams, in which she met her love: ‘In sleep made sweet by a vision of you’."

the costume for this chapter is this gorgeous afternoon dress (ca. 1835) from the met museum archives.

“All we ask is that you keep an open mind.”

The rattle of the carriage wheels against the meticulously hand-paved road beneath your fancifully cushioned seat was, perhaps, the only thing keeping you grounded at the moment. You could do little but curse them internally, knowing putting up a fight was… tragically futile.

“How do you mean, Mother?”

You already knew the answer to this question, but it bought you a bit of time to school your reaction, to use your decades of lessons in decorum to keep your actual thoughts and feelings from clawing themselves out of your mouth.

After all, for God’s sake, how could they expect you to choose a husband on this supposed ‘diplomatic tour’?

You’d, of course, rolled your eyes when your Handmaiden had told you of their plans (though a much more tumultuous emotion stirred behind your sardonic response). Your parents hadn’t even afforded you the courtesy of a conversation before making arrangements for the tour. Instead, the news was broken only after your Handmaiden heard the rumors in whispers that echoed through the long, hollow halls of your castle. (Pro Tip: Having a best friend on your staff never stops being helpful.) You knew what this was, and it wasn’t simply diplomatic. At least, not in the usual sense.

You knew what this was– everyone did. You were of the age where courtiers began to whisper about your lack of husband, gossiping about why the Crown Heir of Evermoor had yet to even begin the courting process. Why so many requests for meetings had gone politely rejected.

The truth was much less salacious than popular theory– as is usually the case. Quite simply, you’ve just yet to meet an eligible bachelor that doesn’t make you physically recoil at the prospect of being wed to them. Between the Dukes whose eyes on your female staff were… less than respectful and Counts who couldn’t make it longer than thirty seconds without saying something to stroke their own egos, you’d rather shovel the stables by hand than meet with any prospects for the time being.

There had been a close call once, just a few months back, where you’d met with a neighboring King who was charming enough at first. That is, of course, until the bastard had tried to pressure you into necking with him after dinner one night. You sent him packing on the spot. And your parents, the Queen and King, were irate. Apparently, not offending the royal family was more important than your honor.

Which, tragically, prompted them to force your hand into embarking on what would be your ‘grand tour’ throughout the nearby kingdoms. Officially, it was a tour to introduce you as the Crown Royal to your (pre-established and potential alike) ally’s own Royal Families. To establish a line of communication and get to know each other sooner rather than later. But none were gullible enough to miss the writing on the wall. You were unmarried, and most of the kingdoms you’d be visiting had unmarried royal sons of their own to offer. After all, for a royal as high-ranking as yourself, it’s most appropriate for you to marry other ‘high-value’ royalty. Those who would be Counts in their own right someday, some even Kings. Any children born would rule over both domains, doubling your families’ power and influence in the realm. (And that was all anything was ever about. Cue eye roll.)

Perhaps you’d have fought harder if you thought there was the slimmest chance of getting your way, but… why kid yourself? This was an inevitable. Since you were young, you’d known your fate would be that of most born of noble blood. To be used as a bargaining chip, a pawn in someone else’s game– one neither of you had elected to play.

Sure, there had been a time many years ago where you’d find yourself in despair over this. Growing up, your favorite stories were the ones told of love triumphing over all. You’d go to your balcony in the dead of night, wishing to any power that could hear you to be one of the lucky ones. For you to have the chance at a marriage of love. A husband you chose not because of the family crest he bore, but for the tender affection he showed you. The way he lit up your world, coloring your bluest nights into the tender pinks of the sunrise. Someone who was well and truly yours, divorced from the way nobility are traded like commodities, but how love brings two souls into one, merging until you can’t remember where you end and he begins. A love like poetry. A love worth writing about.

But those days were long behind you. Even the most hopeless of all romantics can’t resist the effects of erosion, the cynical waves of the ocean clawing at the coast until even something so eternal as the Earth itself gives way, becoming part of the ocean it once fought to resist so vehemently. Holding onto that optimism… at some point begins to hurt you more than it helps you. And so you, once as steady as the Earth in your quest for love, you surrendered to cynicism just as steadily, until you, too, found it hard to believe that love in the pure sense even existed at all. 

Of course, those were the times when your Equerry would ask you to accompany him on a trip to the local market. After all, none could read you quite like him. It came with the territory– his job, of course, to be your shadow. To care for you, and to watch over you. And he took his role very seriously. To him, this meant to help you through not just your meetings with the steward, but also to watch for signs that your spirits need lifting (despite this not technically being in his duties). And seeing how your mouth twitched into a frown any time someone mentioned the concept of love the past few months? He didn’t have to be a scholar to read you.

So he pulled you into the castle’s preferred bakery, calling for Mister and Missus Kim and producing a beaming smile when the pair came out from the back to say hello. The couple’s eyes shined every time they looked at one another, and the three of them talked about the castle’s weekly order as you watched from near the door, mindlessly eyeing the pastries on display in the cabinet, trying to ignore the way your chest fluttered just being around something so beautiful. She held a toddler on her hip, and the moment it crossed your mind that she was looking tired from holding the boy, her husband instinctively grabbed him, placing him to lay upon his own chest instead. It was as if they had their own language, something silent but incredibly tangible that tied them together. And it was a sight to behold.

Your heart felt much less heavy on the ride home, your eyebrows quirked in thoughtful wishing instead of the bitter resignation they tended towards. Your Equerry said nothing, his hands smoothing against the hat he’d placed on his lap as he smiled softly. He didn’t need your words to know he’d done well, even if he would love to hear them. But alas, the you of the present day was much too timid to speak what was on your mind. The thoughts were much too soft for someone who was to someday rule over this nation. But maybe, you thought, maybe you were what was too soft. Maybe fate had played a cruel joke in making you the only one who could govern your beloved country once your parents no longer could. Maybe it was all a fool’s errand.

Because you couldn’t help but feel that… perhaps you’ll never be lucky enough to possess a love of your own, but you’re more sure than you’ve ever been that love is one of the finest things humanity has to offer– so real, so tangible that it shone through the dark clouds hanging over your head. And you’d do anything it took to feel its embrace, even for the smallest moment in time.

It was hard to contend with the idea people had in their head about you at times. To them, you were the Crown Heir of Evermoor. Sole Heir at that. Flowers bloomed bright the day you were born, and (according to folklore) it’s impossible for a flower to wilt if it’s been blessed by your presence.

You care deeply for your nation, making certain your Equerry schedules an allotment every few weeks for you to visit the capital’s town square, relishing in the bustle of the city and the chatter of those hard at work, or those working to forget their hard day at work. But when they notice you, they’re quick to forget what they were doing. Instead, they either gawk openly, or rush to have their moment with you. Something they’ll remember for a lifetime; ‘the time the Crown Royal complimented my pelerine’ or ‘the time I made the Crown Royal smile by presenting them with a rose’. 

But at home? You’re just… you.

You’re sprawled out over your plush bed, dressed down to your chemise and pantaloons as your Handmaiden helped you sneak a second dessert to share, shutting the door to your quarters quietly as she, too, leapt to join you in your bed with a mischievous smile (though there was an unspoken tension in the air that neither of you cared to address just yet). Your hair hit your shoulders in what were once carefully-manicured curls that had loosened throughout the day. If it were anyone else, you’d be shamed for the lewdness of this moment, but this was another perk to having your best friend as your Handmaiden. With her, this was perfectly appropriate. Even if it wasn’t technically in the spirit of the rules.

The upcoming months hung over you like a death sentence. Tonight would be one of your last as a single person, one of the last you’d not be betrothed– or worse, married. At the end of the week, you’d be leaving on your tour. Leaving the only home you’d ever known to stay at palace after palace belonging to strangers who intended to sell you on their sons. And if there’s one thing you knew; the only thing more formidable than your citizens competing for your attention is dozens of nobles doing the same. At least your people had some sense of dignity.

Today was one of the last nights you’d be free to kid yourself into believing that, by some miracle, you’d get the fairytale ending you’ve always dreamed of. Because once you left the borders of Evermoor, there would be no returning without the burden of a ring on your finger, its center stone heavy with insurmountable expectations and a destiny you’d never get to seek.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the loud clink of a fork on your Handmaid's plate– a clearly theatrical gesture. 

“So?” She sat her plate aside without looking away from you. When you gave her no indication that you knew what she was about to broach, she continued, her voice casual and innocent. “How long were you planning on moping about for? I just mean to ensure we stay on schedule.” 

Eyes still trained on the plate of Ratafia Cake in front of you, you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at one corner of your mouth. You gave her a thoughtful hum. “I was thinking… maybe a couple more decades? Don’t want to overdo it, of course.” You looked to her with a facetious grin.

Unfortunately, she wasn’t buying it. “That sounds about right. I wouldn’t want to waste any more precious time I can’t get back either.” She kept the dry tone, but there was evident concern on her features. Perhaps a bit of frustration as well. 

Your smile faltered, the truth in her words hitting a little too close to the truth for comfort. You resorted to pushing your cake around on the small saucer, the prospect of eating suddenly much less alluring as the truth settled in your stomach like a stone. Your voice came out barely over a whisper; “What else can I do? It's not as if I have any say in the matter. I've pushed this off as long as I can. My parents…” You take an exasperated breath, “They aren’t going to budge this time.”

The pretense was dropped then, and she shifted to get comfortable, tone more serious. “I know. It's not fair the way this is happening. I hope you know I am really sorry about that.” 

“I just… don't think that the way you're thinking about this is really helpful to you.” She looked off, thought for a moment, then turned back to pick the situation apart. “We can't change the situation. So the way I see it, you have a few options here.”

You placed the cake to the side then, shifting to lean against the bedpost. Part of you felt the urge to dig in your heels, to protest, but unfortunately one of your best friend’s qualities happens to be that she’s almost always right about these things. So instead, you bite your tongue, nodding for her to continue.

“Option One; you go on the tour. You grin and bear it with the suitors. And really, you’ll only be with each of them for a short time. So if they’re that terrible, you’ll be out soon enough. Don’t worry about months or years from now– just focus on getting through this part. One step at a time.” She picked up her cake again, taking a shamelessly large bite and swallowing it quickly.

“I hate that you’re being made to choose this. But think of it this way: you do get a choice if you go. You can at least focus on trying to influence things to make your life easiest. And maybe you will end up liking someone, at least enough to try. I mean, the odds are one of them won’t be completely insufferable. And if they all are, I promise to let you mope until the end of time, okay?”

That has you laughing again, turning to look at her fully. “Careful; I may actually take you up on that. I really think I’ve yet to fully realize my true potential in the field of being annoying. And as my Handmaiden, you have special privileges as my guinea pig for just that.” You give her an easy smile, leaning on one side while you pick up your cake once more.

But as you take another bite, you ponder her words carefully. As suspected, she was right once again. Most noblewomen are not as lucky as you’ve been. You made it this far without being betrothed, and even then your parents are still allowing you the choice of who to marry instead of forcing someone upon you. So while the situation is certainly unideal… she’s right to say that you still have some freedom of choice. And while small, it’s best to count your blessings whenever they come, lest it drive you mad.

“You’re right.” You pause, trying to find a way to say what you mean without sounding naive. Or worse, corny. “What I want may be out of question, but I suppose any choice is better than none.” You furrow your brow for a moment, lost in thought. “Perhaps… some of these suitors also mourn this choice. Love may be off the table, but… perhaps we can be friends–” You pause once more, laughing softly. “–who just so happen to be married.”

You’re not sure why it took you so long to reach this conclusion. After all, noble as they may be, these suitors are human just as you are. Each of them have their own thoughts, goals, desires, dreams. And perhaps, like yours, theirs is also stifled by this imposed choice. Perhaps.

“Exactly,” she replied, face brightening a bit at your change in tone. “And… well, who knows?” She shrugged, not going any further into the thought. “At any rate, it won’t necessarily hurt to have a partner in crime.” 

“My, my– are you suggesting that I replace you now?” You tease her.

“Right. So what's Option Two, then?”

“Option Two; we let the kingdom burn, run away in the night and live on the lam. That one has a few kinks to work out.” She played it as straight as she could, but it was obvious from her face that she was trying to be funny. 

Your laughter comes out in a snort, her words catching you by surprise. “You know what? I'm half tempted to take you up on that. But I don't think Mr. Stick-in-the-mud Equerry would go for it. Tragic.”

“Oh, forget him,” she said lightly. “We can do it on our own.” She finished the last bite of her dessert.

You try to ignore the way you immediately feel guilty imagining the expression on your Equerry's face if he knew the details of this conversation. Even tonight, you had to practically beg him to take the night off so you could have this time with your Handmaiden. He's been practically glued to your side since the news of your fate reached him, ever protective of you. He means well, but… a girl needs to breathe sometimes. You can only imagine what he'd do, how he'd feel if you fled. You scrunch up your face apologetically at your Handmaiden, still smiling. “Sorry. Maybe next time.”

She laughs, shaking her head at you softly. “Seriously, though. Just try, okay? There must be some part of this that could work out for good.”

As you, too, finish the last bit of your cake, you nod solemnly in return. “Alright. I'll… try. But only because you asked me to.” You answer with an air of drama. “We should both hope this goes well. After all, he’ll soon be your problem just as much as he’ll be mine. It's your neck on the block too,” You joke.

“Don't I know it,” she replied, and collected the dish back from you. “And God help us both.”

“We just don’t want you to be so… dismissive. Alright, dear? Give them a chance. They just might surprise you. You’ve been so picky, and we won’t tolerate a repeat of last time.”

The words of your Father hit your ears like an arrow, and you’re rearing back to spit a harsh retort when you feel your Equerry place a steadying hand on your shoulder, just out of view of your parents across from you both. Looking at him, he gives you a sympathetic smile that does little to alleviate your anger, but it succeeds in holding you back if only because you hate fighting with your parents in front of him. (It stresses him out having to play the middle-man when he wants to have your back with no question.)

So you take a deep breath, letting your Father’s words linger in the air of the carriage, which suddenly felt hopelessly stuffy.

It wasn’t fifteen minutes later that the carriage slowed to a stop, signaling the end of your journey to meet the first of your suitors. Your heartbeat quickened, and as your attendant opened the door to the carriage, the sun pricked at your eyes.

While you waited as your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you noticed an unfamiliar hand reaching into your carriage, offering for you to grab to assist you out. “May I help you, Your Highness?”

And though it felt like diving into frigid waters in the black of night, you took the stranger’s hand.

[dismas-n-dismay]

Redacted Valenswap 2025!

The day they pry hozier songs from my hands is the day y'all will stop seeing me write on this website, swear.

Happy Valentines to all, and especially @ririchurl who i got for this year's valenswap! I hope you like my silly meet cute between Sweetie and Azmidi (and ignore any typos I failed to clean up, though I think I caught them all..) Happy first Valenswap gang!

word count: a smidge over 2k tags: sickfic, car ride home, delirious listener!sweetie, touch-starved azmidi, azmidi has a heavy snake-like lisp, azmidi has aquatic reptile demon traits, azmidi has claws and sharp teeth, shy azmidi, fear demon azmidi, comfort-fic, love at first sight --

The air of the ER was brisk against his deep grey scales, the “feeling” of it was hardly much at all. A poor copy of what it must have felt like against a form that could more properly process temperature. The webbed fins on the side of Azmidi’s head twitched idly in response as he padded through the bleak white room. 

At this time of night, it was either jam packed full of people who had ran in from various accidents or deathly silent and holding merely a few worried looking families. Today- he lifted his snout to sniff, a deep inhale, in search for food- was a latter day. 

His fangs clicked together in agitation. He could go scavenging through the hospital, it’s not as if he was picky…but he did try his best to avoid coming to the corporal plane as much as possible. There wasn’t much he could do with the variety of demon he was, and the discrimination he would face really only made his reluctance to stay strengthen. 

Still, the proximity to dread and anxiety left his body wanting for the succulent emotions. The longer I take, the hungrier I get, and the longer I have to stay here. The fear demon pleaded with himself, hoping to set aside his dislike of the current plane even temporarily. With a sigh, Azmidi scanned the room. It was the same crowd he’d came to expect of this particular hospital in Dahlia- one old woman at the front desk, a few nurses running in and out with their clipboards, and a tv playing whatever constituted as cable tv in the corner. The boredom of the ER was just enough to make him sight, slouching in the center of the room as he felt incoming air from the sliding doors of the ER opening again. 

Two humans walked in, one looking like hell on wheels and - Azmidi clicked his tongue, tasting the emotion deeply - feeling quite the extraordinary amount of pain. 

“Hi, uh this is my friend, we think they might have strep throat?”

Azmidi watched as the old receptionist raised a brow and handed the two a set of papers before gesturing to the seats for them to sit. “Bring these back after filling them out and we’ll get you situated as fast as possible.”

The taller of the pair groaned, leaving the shorter one to hush them. “I’ll do the paperwork Sweets, you just relax.”

“Sweets” whined, slumping into one of the small seats as their friend sat beside them. 

Azmidi tilted his head, pushing his long, kelp-like hair out of his eyes and crawling closer to the tall human. He observed as their eyes were squeezed shut in pain while he crouched in front of them, their pants for air frequent and shallow.

He licked his lips, a sharp toothed grin gaining on his face as the ebbing worry from their friend flushed towards him. It was subtle, light, in flavor but hefty enough to be satiating for now. 

Their eyes drifted open clumsily. “Hel-lo?” 

Azmidi’s brows shot up, no they couldn’t be talking to him. They were delirious, and not a single person in this wing of the hospital had a lick of magic in them. But as Sweets drifted forward, towards his face, putting them snout to nose, he was suddenly confronted with the idea of this being Very Wrong. 

“Whassup with you,” they winced, obviously pained by talking. “Got a weird costume on or some’n….” They trailed off and simply stared at him, dazed and out of it as their friend wrapped an arm around their shoulder to pull them back.

“Okay, I’m gonna go talk to the doctors and turn in your paperwork, Sweetie, okay?” They looked toward the patch of air where Azmidi would’ve been had they been able to see him. More worry flooded off of them there, reasonably, before they continued. “Just sit here and try not to use your voice too much, okay?”

“Mmh.” Sweetie nodded, glazed eyes meeting Azmidi’s once again. How peculiar. Their friend scampered off, leaving just the two of them, an odd demon and a sick human.

From deep in his seldom used throat, a greeting bellowed out. “.h…hello..” Unsurprisingly, though delayed with their sickness, Sweetie winced. He could only assume it had sounded similar to the noise one might make while awkwardly choking down water between gulps of air. He knitted his brows together, suddenly self conscious whether or not the human before him could see him. “S…ssorry…c…can you sssee me?” 

One after another their eyes blinked as they nodded. “Yuh huh…wh- COUGH who are you..?”

Azmidi pouted in thought for a minute. It was unusually rare for a person to see a cloaked demon of his caliber, and it wouldn’t exactly bode well if a human who wasn’t empowered knew his name and went around telling folks. Really this whole conversation was already breaching covert but- he peered back at Sweetie to see their forehead covered in sweat while they shivered painfully- really who could tell if they would remember. He shrugged, sitting down before them, hunched as he crossed his legs and laid his wide finned tail beside himself. 

“Azz…zzy.”

“Azzzzzy? L-like with allll the Zs or ‘s it just Azzy..?”

“Jussst…Az..zy..” he tried to control the way his tongue slipped against his teeth, poorly. There were many reasons he didn’t like his form on the corporeal plane and this was one of them, the way his tongue fit against his teeth was much more befitting a predator than a more communicative organism. Azmidi’s teeth were sharp and his forked tongue naturally followed suit, making it quite hard for him to speak in a more relaxed way.

Sweetie, however, didn’t seem to mind this in their sick state. They smiled in a way that made his scales flush warmly. 

“Azzy…cute. ‘M….i’m…uh…”

“Sssweetie..?”

They snapped their fingers clumsily. “Yeah! Sweetie! It’s a nickname cause I’m soooo sweet, hehehe…” They flopped back against their seat with a dopey smile that made Azmidi’s tail thump against the cold tiled floor of the ER. God this was so stupid. He was here to feed and go home and go about his business and instead here he was, fraternizing with barely conscious humans. 

“‘S so sssstupid…”

“I’m not stupid!” They replied indignantly and incredibly loud, leaving Azmidi to clutch his claws around his mouth as he saw both Sweetie’s friend and the older nurse behind the receptionist desk turn to stare at Sweetie’s outburst.  

Their friend cleared their throat, diverting attention back to themself, and whispering to the nurse once more. “Is there anything we can do to maybe speed up that test for my friend…”

If a demon could blush, which Azmidi was sure some could, he would’ve been the deepest shade of blue-grey possible.

“What are you? You’re like…a really funny fish…”

“I’m a d…uh…hm…” He stopped himself short.

“Duuuh? Come oooon, pleeease! Oh wait! I got it-“

Azmidi scoffed, crossing his arms playfully. “Oh? And what issss it that you think I am..?” He rasped, flashing his sharpened fangs and teeth that glinted in the full light of the emergency room.

Sweetie looked around, suspiciously before cupping their mouth and whispering towards his right ear fin which perk up as they came closer. 

“You’re my imaginary friend…” Their smile was ridiculously loopy, with their face being a deep and warm tint. Oh, they were definitely getting worse. 

Sweetie giggled into the palms of their hand, not seeming to notice how they were tilting out of their chair until Azmidi took the opportunity to press them back, standing up as he did so. 

Oh…no. Even at his hunched height, Azmidi was still among the taller than average heights for demons, especially since he rarely felt the need to adjust his corporeal height for others. Now he most definitely towered over Sweetie, even when hunching his back over peer at them easier. Anxiously, he clutched his hands and squeezed them together, too scared to meet their gaze but too stunned to avoid as they looked up at him with wide unreadable eyes.

As Azmidi gulped, they spoke. “Woah…big boy…” Their shaky hands went to graze against his face clumsily, the feeling of skin against cooled scale was…unbelievable. Azmidi shuddered, gulping down unneeded air to non-existent lungs. His mouth hung open, holding pearly sharp fangs just barely cracked by his lips- and for a moment he thought they were moving to touch them just as-

Two fingers snapped to the side of them both, “Sweets, come on, they’ve got your tests ready and your doctor- shouldn’t be more than 45 minutes okay?” Their friend grabbed a hold of their hand, dragging a dazed Sweetie behind them as Azmidi stood, stupefied. what…what.

He could only watch as they walked away towards the swinging doors of the emergency room.

—

Their hands were clammy- they were vaguely aware of it as they sat quietly in the backseat of their friend’s car. They were saying something but Sweetie really couldn’t focus enough to do anything but murmur. 

“We’ll be at your house soon, buddy, okay? I called off work for us both so I can watch you so don’t worry about any of your projects.” Their eyes flitted towards Sweetie through the car’s mirror, with an expression that Sweetie’s tired brain couldn’t make heads nor tails of. Under their breath, Sweetie murmured softly. “Sorry…”

A sigh came from the driver’s seat. “Don’t be, I just need you to take better care of yourself okay? A fever that high is bad enough, but if your throat had swollen up and I didn’t check on you it could’ve been so much worse. I just want you to be safe bud.”

“Mmh, i will.” 

The movement of the car was slow and soothing, with the rain drizzling outside it was just dreamy, perfect even. Sweetie shuffled closer to the middle of the seat, resting their head on Azmidi’s shoulders as they closed their eyes. He huffed, wrapping his finned tail along their legs- the total extent he’d allow himself to touch them any further. 

Azmidi inhaled, scenting each flavor of worry and anxiety in the vehicle, and in one swift sigh, took it away. A poor meal, with worry hardly being that much filling in comparison to true and genuine fear, but the anxiety of it was something nonetheless. And with the way Sweetie’s shoulders seemed to lose all that tense stress in their body, and their friend released their vice grip on the steering wheel…he had to guess it was worth it. Anything to be able to spend countless days and nights in the sweet presence of someone so lovely, for them he’d eat any amount of unfulfilling satisfaction and misery.

In his throat, a deep and loving rumble rose out just as Sweetie began to nuzzle closer. “I’ll keep you ssssafe…Don’t worry…”

A soft exhale was all the response he got before his hand began to hover closer to theirs. He wasn’t used to this- touch. It wasn’t often Azmidi even chose to stay in the human plane let alone truly interact there for more than mere moments but to find someone who could see him, someone who made him feel less dangerous and sharp, who made him feel wanted…he wanted to make them feel that way too. Not a burden or overwhelming or too afraid to reach out until things got too bad. 

He looked at them again, the sweat on Sweetie’s brow and the puffs of breath from their nose that became visible in the cold of the car, and placed a clawed hand atop theirs. Azmidi couldn’t claim he was too good at healing magic, it was something he seldom found any reason to use but he knew a majority of it was intent, and he intended to heal. That would be it.

From his claws emanated a soft, loving green glow from his finger tips to the cold hands of Sweetie, easing their pain effortlessly. He sighed as their breaths evened out and their shoulders sagged, uninhibited by the pain. 

Azmidi clutched their hands in his, and pressed his head atop theirs. “Ressst well, Ssssweetie.”

Outside, the rain pattered on, as a human and their demon dreamt endlessly.

[cosmiic-world]

wiege — rafayel

content: pure fluff, domestic!rafayel x fem!reader, reader and rafayel have twins, fear of thunder.

a/n: i saw someone say that this sounds like a lullaby that hyuna and luka are singing to their kids in a different universe and i lowkey hear luka as rafayel in this one so… this is the result. for somewhat immersive reading, play the song at the asterisk (*)

“i’m home!” you called out as you entered your shared home with arms full of grocery bags. you put the bags on the kitchen table and smiled as rafayel walked towards you.

“welcome back, my love.” rafayel said, smiling widely as his arms wrapped around you, planting a kiss on your cheek.

“where are the kids?” you asked but before he could answer, you had already received it in the form of two pairs of feet padding down the hallway.

“mommy!!” your twins called out, giggling excitedly as they practically pushed their dad aside to hug your legs.

“hi my babies!” you said, giggling as you bent down to hug them tightly.

“come play with us! daddy got too boringgg!!” one of them said before they both grabbed each of your hands, dragging you to their room.

rafayel chuckled and shook his head before working on putting away the groceries.

as the night went on, you and rafayel played with the kids until it was time for bed. as usual, you made sure they did everything necessary before going to bed.

as you were about to go to bed, rain began to fall, hitting their window in small pitter patters. it wasn’t until thunder began to boom that you heard a shriek of your and rafayel’s name.

“mommy!! daddy!!” the cry was followed by their feet running towards your room.

both you and rafayel quickly sat up. “what’s wrong?” you said softly.

“w-we’re scared. can we sleep with you?” one of them said, sniffling and wiping away the small tears that threatened to fall from their eyes.

“of course, come here my loves.” you said, opening your arms.

they both quickly rushed to your bed, climbing up and snuggling in the middle of you and rafayel. as you both hugged them, they were slowly beginning to calm down.

until a big crash of thunder sounded, the twins flinched, gasping and hiding under the covers.

“mommy.. daddy.. i’m scared.” you heard a small whisper.

“it’s okay, my love. we’re here to protect you, always.” you whispered back.

“i can’t sleep.. i’m too scared.” the other twin whispered.

“you know, your mom used to be scared of thunder too.” rafayel said, to which they both gasped at.

“how did you stop being scared?” they asked you.

“i stopped being scared when i met your dad. he used to sing me to sleep when i got scared.” you told them, smiling fondly at the memories of being wrapped tightly in rafayel’s warm embrace.

“he used to hold me, just like this.” your arms wrapped tightly around one of the twins’ while rafayel tightly hugged the other one.

“she used to listen to my heartbeat, like this.” he said, guiding his child’s head to their ear rested flat against his chest. you did the same. “and i used to sing to her.”

“what did you sing?” the twin you were holding asked.

“let’s see if i remember.. it was a song i learned when i was a kid.” he said softly.

*

you began to sing the song you remembered by heart, smiling as rafayel joined with you.

as you sang, you remember being held by rafayel so tightly, his words of affirmation ringing in your head.

nothing will hurt you. i will protect you forever.

you found yourself repeating those words to your children as they slowly drifted to sleep in your arms.

“i think they’re asleep.” rafayel whispered to you.

“i love you rafayel.” you whispered back.

“i love you most, miss bodyguard.” you couldn’t help but smile at the old nickname your husband used to call you.

you listened to the soft breathing of your children before drifting off to sleep.

[moonglowmagic]

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Because it happened!” Dilan countered. “You want to know how I felt about it? Disappointed. Like I’m still not measuring up to whatever invisible line there is for you to want to kiss me back. Of course I remembered it. It was my birthday!” As if it was the most obvious thing in the world that she would remember it. “It wouldn’t have put me on spot or embarrassed me. Song I wanted to talk about it, but god do you know how embarrassing it is for me to bring it up to you? I mean try and understand things from my perspective here.” 

At his words Dilan bit down on the inside of her cheek and looked down at her shoes, doing the best she could to will the tears that wanted to fall away. Looking back up at him when he sighed and she shifted uncomfortably as she fidgeted to try and make herself small. Staying silent as he continued to talk and she broke fully when he said she wasn’t a chore. Letting a couple tears falls and she for once didn’t attempt to wipe them away. “I never said you were.” Letting the words come out broken as she tried to talk but tears were already falling too fast and she couldn’t stop herself. “I don’t want you to be some scripted puppet, that’s part of what I like so much about you.” She admitted quietly to him.

Dilan looked up at him through blurry eyes and went to reach out for him when he mentioned being kidnapped for eight months, but when he took a step back from her she let her hand drop. Wiping her eyes as she inhaled a sharp breath, she listened to him talk about being kidnapped. “I’m sorry.” She was sorry for even starting this conversation, but more so for him being kidnapped. Reaching over to him and she took a couple hesitant steps towards him before she pulled him into a hug. “Song.. I” Trying to find the words to say but she couldn’t. “I’m just sorry that happened to you and that you spent eight months like that.” Letting her voice break again, she knew better than this but she couldn’t help it. Pulling back slightly as she put a hand on his cheek and gave a nod to his words. While it hurt to hear it somehow was comforting that it wasn’t a hurt issues it was more an everyone issue. Moving back as she let her hand drop from his face to her side, she didn’t know where to go with any of this. 

“But the problem is as low enthusiasm as you are literally all the time, I still want you.” She admitted softly. “Do I really? I mean I’m not a good person Song, I’ve never claimed to be either.” She countered softly at his words. When all she wanted to do was reassure him that he was enough. That while more enthusiasm would be nice it, wasn’t about any of that. It was just the simple fact it was him, as she recalled the conversation with Ken earlier about why she liked him the urge to recite all of that once more came up. She wanted him to know he was deserved the world too. “You deserve good things too Song. Despite what you may think.” 

Feeling the tears well up once more when he continued on and finally said it back but it was everything that came after that broke her once more. She knew he was right, that this wasn’t full stop, that she wanted exactly what he said. “I want more. More than you can give.” She admitted softly, she put a hand under his chin to force him to look up at her. “Song, I’m so sorry I did this too you. I should have considered you in this and I didn’t. I got in my head and my feelings about all of this when in reality I should have just shut up and pushed it down.” That’s what she had done with Chai and what she had planned on doing this time too, but everyone had just been so encouraging. “You’re right you’re not the same person anymore, but it doesn’t change that I like this person in front of me and wish I knew them better than I do.” Holding out a hand for him to take in case he wanted it. “No matter what though I’m here for you. Rather you want me to be or not. Because as much as this hurts, I’m not walking away. I’m just sorry that I’ve now made this so awkward between us.” Shifting uncomfortably, she made a move to try and wipe her eyes despite knowing her makeup was ruined. “You’re too important to not be in my life. I need you, even just as my best friend. Well besides Leyla and that, but you get what I mean.” 

“Humor is subjective, Dilan," He rolled his eyes over, not bothering to dignify her other two comments about the value of pixies and the state of the floor with a response.

It was only when she said that she thought he wanted to pretend it didn't happen that he lifted a brow. "Because you're the one who felt like you were rejected," He countered, moving to pinch the bridge of his nose as if to try to will the head ache he'd surely have later back. "I didn't think anything from that night because you were intoxicated. You were not coherent enough to consent to anything and so I drove you home. Why would I bring it up again? I didn't know how you felt about it. I didn't know if you even remembered it. You could have blacked out for all I know and, while it is nothing and I repeat nothing to be embarrassed of, believe it or not, I actually do give a fuck about you and wasn't about to put you on the spot or accidentally embarrass you."

"Are you fucking kidding me right now? I'm sorry my reaction wasn't to your liking? Next time, I'll make sure to rent out a squad of cheerleaders and have them on hand on the off chance a girl asks me if they can kiss me. You caught me off guard," He let out an exasperated sigh as he told her point blank. "I wasn't expecting you to ask me that so I acted momentarily surprised and then you ran off before I could even fully react just as you decided I was going to reject you before you even gave me a chance to process any of this. You're not some fucking chore, Dilan. You're not. I hate that you fucking feel that way, but I'm also not scripted in the screenplay that is your mind," He exclaimed, not bothering to his his frustration.

"Dilan," His voice lowered, softening into a deep murmur as he finally told her after a prolonged beat. "I was kidnapped for eight months. I chased after you and got jumped. I was chained to the floor of a cabin and tortured repeatedly every day to the point where pain has become comforting. I'm," His jaw tensed as he squeezed his eyes shut, taking a small step back from her as he shook his head as if to try to shove the memories clawing their way in back. "I'm not pursuing anyone right now. I literally do not have the mental bandwidth to and I'm sorry if that's not what you want to hear, but me not making moves isn't because I don't want to or your some chore. It is because this is all I'm capable of giving right now."

"If you want more enthusiasm, you should probably look elsewhere," His gaze lowered to the ground as he moved to slip his hands into his pockets. "You deserve that. You deserve the world." She deserved to be with someone who made her happy and reacted the way she wanted them to. She deserved to be with someone who wouldn't constantly disappoint her like he already had time and time again. But, the world wasn't something he was capable of giving.

"Dilan, I think you're cute and sure I like you. Who wouldn't, but.. that right there, the I went further with a ghost than you? I can't do this right now. It's not a full stop. If it was, you'd be fine with me not saying anything in return, which I think we both know isn't the actual case here. You want me to tell you that I like you back, enthusiastically with a smile, and then what?" He asked her, despite having a feeling they both already knew the answer to that question. His voice dipped even lower than before as he admitted under his breath, "I'm not the same guy who you asked to kiss on your birthday two years ago and I know you say you know that, but I don't really think you do."

[mourningliliesmorningglories]

Blowing Smoke

A Jegulus song lyric one shot. I'm trying a new layout so lmk what you think! Guys this actually came to me like a fever dream.

wc: 1042 // @jegulus-microfic

Regulus isn't stupid. He sees it, all of it. He sees how she looks at James and how James looks back at her. It wasn't enough for him to have Regulus because you always chase the things you only get a taste of. This too, Regulus knows all too well. He stays hidden in the astronomy tower, behind tapestries, and alcoves in the dark. She can be loved out loud, in the common room, in the great hall, in the daylight. Today is the end day. Regulus plays the part of executioner and guilty both. He knows that to love something is to lose it too. That does not make this easier. 

James crashes through the door of the tower, rumpled and blushing. He was always loud, always the centre of attention. His eyes land on Regulus, and just for a second, Regulus stills. He can't keep this, but god, how he wants to. Maybe he never even had it, but there's something there, just not worth playing second for. James carries that boyish smile, the one reserved only for Regulus, but it's too late. A sacrifice is only a sacrifice once the blood is drawn. 

"Tell me, is she prettier than she was on the internet?" Regulus' face shifts into indifference. No preamble, no games. He is still a Black at the end of the day. 

"Reg, what are you talking about?" James shifts uncomfortably. He knew this was coming. Not this soon though, he pleads, not right now. 

"Are your conversations cool, like are you even interested?" Regulus stands, leaning against the railing of the tower. His arms sit crossed over his chest, less to be intimidating, and more to keep his heart where it should be. His tone is light, conversational almost. 

"This is about Lily." James' voice is toneless, his eyes immediately dull. Not now. Not now. 

"Who else, James, who else?" 

In any other scenario, you just might have been able to convince Regulus he was wrong, that James was just trying to protect them both. Maybe he would've believed that a year of hiding was worth it, that kissing in cupboards and avoiding eye contact in the dinner hall was just the way it should be. But Regulus will not be an object of shame outside of his home, he won't drag that ignominy behind him when he doesn't have to. 

"She's my friend." His eyes narrow. "I'm not going to avoid her just because she makes you insecure." James isn't an argumentative person. In fact, he's a talker, a placater, and so he can't quite figure out why defending Lily comes to him so easily. 

"I know what you are, brighter than the stars." Now Regulus' voice is pure mockery, just so he can see how far James flinches. "Did you mean that then?"

"That was a private conversation. Who even told you about that?"

"I don't think me finding out is the issue here."

"She was upset, she's got so much going-"

"And me, James? How much have I got going on?" Now Regulus promised himself to stay put together, but this, this is his frailty. Too emotional, too expressive when it counts the least. "I'm your dirty little secret because Sirius wouldn't be able to handle sharing. I'm one wrong step away from my parents beating me half to death. So tell me." 

"No."

"Tell me what the fuck is so awful in her life you just had to recycle the same line you used on me?"

James is quiet, chest heaving. He can feel curls sticking to the nape of his neck from sweat. How could he choose? How could Regulus make him. The silence was crackling like it was electrified. A blush crept up Regulus' cheeks. He looked younger in that moment, and something tugs at James' chest, but a callow face does not mean weakness. 

"Tell me if she takes you far." And James knows exactly what Regulus means. Even through his derisive tone, Regulus had something that kept James grounded, something that kept him tethered. And he hates it. 

"Far away from you." James is angry now, but he can't quite tell who it's at. "Far enough away from all the baggage you've been carrying." His head is a mess, and the only person who could help won't. Who the fuck does Regulus think he is? What the fuck has he done?

"My baggage? Oh, you're funny, Potter. Go on, run away again." Regulus' tone is harsh, derisive. "Up another hill to all the girls who'll help you bury it."

"Oh, fuck off Regulus. Back to surnames? Really? Can't we just talk?"

"About what? The lying? The running? The hiding? No, we can't fucking talk. Grow up."

"Baby Black, so insecure, so naive." James' words are trite to Regulus. "And the girls? What fucking girls? How could I when you're always just behind me?"

"Apparently that still didn't stop you." A flicker of hurt runs through Regulus, but he tamps it down. 

"You know nothing about me. You don't understand. I have a reputation. Everyone thinks I'm single, and Lily's just there. What do you want me to do when I'm constantly pushed in her way?" James is bright red and the air is cloying. His head is buzzing, and he just wants it to stop. "Everyone expects me to be put together, to get the girl, to be cool and funny, and attractive. I thought you'd get it."

"They're just blowing smoke," Regulus smiles, except it's not a smile at all. "I'll say what they won't." It's a realisation. Regulus knows that despite everything, despite being James' dirty little secret, he still has one thing James doesn't. 

James told Regulus the truth, everything. Every false laugh. Every tired smile. Every sleepless night. 

And James knows it too. 

"Reg, wait. Stop. Please." His hand reaches for Regulus, but he just misses, brushing the cuff of his jumper. 

"I know everything they don't." Regulus' footsteps echo all the way down the stairs. 

And for the first time in his life, James feels something bubbling up in his chest. A subtle burning that felt like agony. 

For the first time in his life, James Potter couldn't have the thing he wanted most.

[cleo-serotonin]

die your daughter // emma & ms. chatham

[azariah-z-fell]

Crowley : ready for it

To

Aziraphale : wildest dreams

[i-do-anything-but-write]

Omg that’s so cool!

as Gideon spotted Mathilda in the crowd, a huge weigh fell off of his shoulders. She was alright. She was dancing with the king. How did she get a dance with the King?? He thought. But then he took a look at her. Her red hair was stuck up graciously. The green satin dress that she had probably stolen toned (?) her green eyes perfectly. Gosh, she is beautiful he thought.

Whilst the King and her were dancing, Mathilda threw back her head and let out a chuckle. Gideon could exactly imagine how it sounded. The laugh he loved so much. He clenched his fists. „I should be the one dancing with you“ he muttered. He remembered that it was necessary for the plan to work out. Gideon let out a sigh and muttered „Do your thing Tilda.“ he knew she couldn’t hear him but he was still scared. In no universe could she find out that he still called her that. The chill creeped over him as he remembered how furious she were when the two of them were still kids. His cheeks turned red i think it’s a suiting name. Sweet and short. He thought.

The dance came to an end. Mathilda and the king parted. Both of them were still smiling. Gideon let out a sigh and made himself visible to Mathilda. He took her hand and kissed the back of her hand. He looks up to her and firmly asked „May I have this dance, beautiful woman?“

„You may. What is your name?“ Mathilda answered, playing strangers. No one was allowed to know that the two of them knew each other. „Gideon from Aralokis.“ Gideon answered. Mathilda giggled and smilingly whispered into his ear „Stop this nonsense. Aralokis? Seriously? You couldn’t choose another house?“

Gideons facial expression changed for a second. „I’m sorry! I’m such a coward, I forgot!“

„Anyway.“ Mathilda said „I managed to get a meeting with the king. I can’t be sure if he will bring me back to my parents, try to kill me or if he has other plans in stack for me.“ she slowly took Godeons hand and placed it on her lap. „I have a little joker with me, so leave.“

„Did you bring a knife to a dance?“

„No. it’s just Accessoire.“ Mathilda faked a chuckle „Little boy, we’re not just dancing around. This meeting could Save or kill the whole island.“

„Whatever. Dont get caught and only use it when it’s important. Is the king watching us?“ he asked and flipped her around casually.

„That was actually the first smart thing you’ve ever done.“ she smiled again, „Yes. He is watching us. When this dance ends, you will go to another woman and dance with her. After this dance you will leave, understood? If you come up there and die, I will kill you.“

„understood.“ the song had come to an end. He nodded his head and smiled. Who did she think she was? Superman? She couldn’t fight against 20 trained men with one dagger. Gideon scoffed. „Oh Tilda. Let people try to help you sometimes, too.“

wednesday write

it's officially Wednesday, the middle of the week, supposedly the day most students get free (tragically not me this semester, but hey, I get the odd free day here and there so its not all bad) and I thought, why not come up with a little game that actually gets me to do some writing with the bit of free time I have? and for this very first wednesday write (im so making this a weekly habit its needed) i'm going to put a vote of sorts to the wonderful world of writeblr, what i want you to do dear readers is simple - i'll give you some prompts to choose from, and you can comment on which ones i should tackle (we could do this the old-fashioned vote way, but i've not got time for that considering the end of Wednesdays a few hours away - and lets face it, im a bit impatient haha)

and by all means, have a go at using the prompts yourselves and tag me in your work! I'd love to see what you all come up with! (and if anyone wants to come up with their own prompt list vice versa then feel free to do the same!) now without further ado, the prompt list for this little game:

"Did you bring a knife to a dance?"

She would never be safe here.

"If you scream any louder you might finally hear how ridiculous you sound. Or you'll run out of breath and choke. Either event is fine by me."

comment 1, 2 or 3 (or multiple options if you truly want me to suffer) and I'll tally up the responses for which one(s) I'll be doing, and I'll share my eventual prompt response with you all :)

~ ~ ~

tag list time! open tag as always too!

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[hello-galad]

Cid has a battered old radio in his workshop. It catches a frequency that plays old songs, sometimes nostalgic for couples dancing to the rhythm of soft blues, other times all it plays is rock music and Cid hums the lyrics absentmindedly.

Sometimes Cid can hear soft humming coming from somewhere above him, as silent as the turning of pages. Vincent likes to read, perched most of the time on one of the crates or the wing of one of the planes. Sometimes a rafter, others a chair next to Cid’s as the engineer goes over blueprints and equations.

That day the radio station plays a soft but rhythmic melody that Cid will be the first to admit he doesn’t know how to dance to, but he doesn’t really care as he reaches out to Vincent with an extended hand in invitation. Vincent, who had been watching him swing around the workshop, a feeling of peace and happiness in that smile that carefully keeps the cigarette Cid is smoking in place, accepts Cid’s extended hand. Without warning he is lifted from the chair, twirled around and back in the blonde’s arms.

The song ends and is followed by a softer one that Vincent recognizes from back when he was still a Turk for ShinRa.

They sway together to the voice of the singer who reminds her love that she’s forever theirs.

[batboysanonymous]

Withering for You

​​ Eris Vanserra x Reader

Summary: She was always there—loyal, unwavering, hers was a love that never faltered. But Eris never noticed, not until she began to disappear before his very eyes.

TW: ED

Based on the song: SKINNY by Billie Eilish

───────────────────────────────

"People say I look happy

Just because I got skinny But the old me is still me and maybe the real me And I think she's pretty."

The dress slid off her shoulders too easily. Y/N noticed it in the mirror, the way the fabric pooled around her collarbones instead of hugging them, how her wrists looked too small against the golden embroidery.

She should eat more today.

But then she thought of Eris.

Of the way his eyes never lingered, not on her—not the way they did on others. She had spent years by his side, always just close enough to be his most trusted confidant, but never close enough to be anything more. And gods, how she wanted to be more.

So she turned from the mirror, tightened the dress at the waist, and ignored the way her stomach clenched—not in hunger, but in longing.

"I never did you wrong

And my, my patience is gone."

Eris wasn’t sure when he started noticing the change.

Perhaps it was when her usual warmth dimmed, her laughter no longer echoing quite as vibrantly through the halls of the Autumn Court. Perhaps it was when he reached for her arm during a strategy meeting and felt how small she had become beneath his touch.

Or maybe, just maybe, it was when she stopped looking at him like he was the most important thing in the world.

He had grown used to her presence, to the quiet steadiness of her devotion. He never questioned it, never considered that one day it might not be there.

And yet, as he watched her across the great hall that evening, speaking softly to one of the nobles, he realized he hadn’t seen her eat all night.

She had always been radiant, but now… now she looked fragile, like autumn leaves on the verge of crumbling beneath the weight of the season.

For the first time in a long while, Eris felt unease curl in his chest.

"Am I acting my age now?

Am I already on the way out?"

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

Y/N froze, her fingers tightening around the goblet of untouched wine. “No, I haven’t.”

Eris tilted his head, his fiery eyes scanning her with an intensity that made her stomach clench. “Lying never suited you.”

She sighed, setting the goblet down before turning to face him fully. “What do you want, Eris?”

A pause. A flicker of something unfamiliar in his gaze.

“When was the last time you ate?” he asked, voice softer than she had ever heard it.

A sharp, bitter laugh escaped her lips. “That’s what you want to ask me? Not why I’ve stopped chasing after you? Not why I’ve finally given up?”

Eris stiffened, his fingers curling into fists at his sides.

She shook her head, eyes burning as she forced herself to meet his gaze. “For years, Eris, I’ve loved you. I have stood by you, defended you, given you every part of me. And you never even looked at me.”

His lips parted slightly, but no words came out.

Her laugh was hollow. “It’s funny, really. People say I look happy now. That I’m beautiful. That I’m finally good enough. And you—” her voice cracked, “—you finally look at me. But I don’t think I want you to anymore.”

"I loved you for so long."

Eris didn’t sleep that night.

He couldn’t.

Her words replayed in his head over and over, taunting him with the truth he had been too blind to see.

She had always been there, always. He had taken her for granted, assumed she would always be within reach. And now… now she was slipping through his fingers, and it was his own damn fault.

By the time dawn broke over the Autumn Court, Eris had made his decision.

He found her in the gardens, sitting on the edge of the fountain, fingers trailing absentmindedly through the water. She didn’t look up as he approached, didn’t acknowledge his presence until he sank to his knees before her.

Her breath hitched. “Eris—”

“I was a fool.” His voice was raw, unsteady. “I thought… I thought I had all the time in the world to figure out what you meant to me. But I was wrong. And I see you now, Y/N.”

She swallowed hard, her eyes searching his.

Eris reached for her hand, cradling it between his own. “You don’t have to wither away for me to love you. You don’t have to change, to shrink yourself down, to carve away pieces of who you are. You were always enough.”

A tear slipped down her cheek, and Eris caught it with his thumb, his hands trembling.

“I see you,” he whispered again, voice breaking. “And I am so, so sorry that it took me this long.”

Y/N exhaled shakily, her fingers tightening around his. And for the first time in a long while, she let herself believe him.

Maybe—just maybe—it wasn’t too late.

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Want to join my tag list? Drop a comment or check out this link to submit a specific series you would like tagged in! (Or if you just don't want to comment, that's okay too)

[pepperpixel]

“And it’s! Clean out the bank and, bump off your daddy,

You can come live with us amidst the has-beens and the addicts!

These are crazy times down at Costello music!

You can answer the phone and talk any way you choose it, come on!”

More Betty and Magic Man! And… I maybe should wait to post these as part of a photoset cuz… I do still have more wip stuff of them but… I spent all of today coloring these chibis I wanna upload them ghgh-

[mourningliliesmorningglories]

Oh this is so Vienna coded. Oh I am thinking so many thoughts.

People Sirius Black did not get enough time with:

James Potter (10 years)

Harry Potter (2 years)

Remus Lupin (13 years)

Regulus Black (10 (good) years)

Fleamont and Euphemia Potter (7 years)

[sunnyyflowerrs]

itafushi & work song (hozier)

major jjk 266 spoilers!!! including panels

“i was burning up a fever, i didn’t care much how long I lived, but i swear that i dreamed her, she never asked me once about the wrong idea”

“my babe would never fret none, about what my hands and my body done. if the lord don’t forgive me, i’d still have my baby and my babe would have me”

“no grave can hold my body down, i’ll crawl home to her”

[missmouse43]

6 weeks of breathing clean air, I still miss the smoke…..

🏝️🤙🏄🏾‍♀️🏄🏼‍♂️💔