#perfectly encapsulate my feelings for them

[retiredficwriter]

this is TOO good to be kept in the tags @astrangetypeofchemistry

screaming crying throwing up!!!!! tresydrian love triangle-turned-polycule storyline you will always be famous to me!!!!

[daddy-long-legssss]

anytime i see a picture/video of miles and alex laughing or simply staring at each other during taotu or in 2011/2012, i always think about this line from @stereobone’s absolutely gorgeous ‘the italian job’

‘their love was so enormous neither of them knew where to put it’

and then i cry all over again

[howdygravytrain]

aymeric's a simple man: he sees wife, he loses his shit /pos UwU

a simple set done before dawntrail (i think i'm nearly done sharing all the pre-dt screenies??)!! also granson somehow getting his ass transported to the source works because yes 🤠 super short, but as always transcript is below!

TRANSCRIPT

Panel 2: Granson: Who is that hot lady?

Panel 3: Aymeric: THAT'S MY FUCKING WIFE!!!!

[ducktracy]

what a fantastic transition

[goldentigerfestival]

Yuri's dialogue (JP) is so fascinating to study, like... the repetitive use of certain words/phrases that others use sparingly but he uses constantly. the way it feels like his vocabulary is more expansive than what he uses, but he defaults to a "comfort" level of speech. the way it mixes in with his sort of "street talk" words and the sheer level of informality. the way his "street talk" phrasing is contrasted by the tone of his voice (on that note, people I know who also know JP are also very endeared by these aspects of him so I KNOW IT'S NOT JUST ME!!!).

'cause the thing is, he uses phrases that yeah, other people do use, but he uses a handful over and over and over (contrast to other characters' sparing use of repetition). it's actually... really refreshing? it sounds more relatable and less "video game/anime/JRPG/RPG" writing or something, idk. like closer to how a real person would speak.

I do my best in my translations not to make things sound too stiff across the board, but Yuri makes it so easy. it's why I'm so interested in translating all his lines in Vesperia, like... the actual, original tone for him with his original wording because it's smth Eng only players don't get to experience ('cause even if you listen with JP audio, if you don't know the language, ofc you're gonna miss out on context. it's nobody's fault for not knowing, just... they unfortunately miss out). the thing is, there are a lot of times when the lines in and of themselves are not contextually incorrect in the English ver (usually the situation for smaller scenes, because they altered the text outright for more important stuff which was the stuff that originally set me off, but there were also plenty of cases of just vocal tone shifting with the correct context that still gave off the wrong impression), but Yuri's tone is shifted away from the original in Eng even though it's completely and perfectly translatable.

I am by no means about to translate the entire game because let's face it, I really don't care that much for Vesperia on the whole. I'm kinda stuck with it because Yuri's there lo and behold I actually am WAY more engaged in his stories in Rays, Link and Asteria because it's an amazing character put into circumstances where he actually gets to shine and feels more alive, which Vesperia did not provide nearly as well with its very disjointed story. also, Tales gachas have banger stories that are arguably better than the mainline games, and they regularly make Yuri a very central character to the gachas. Crestoria was also about to do it until they pulled the plug on that game and I'm pretty confident something interesting has been lost to the world. also I just generally don't have the energy or motivation to do that, so... I'll only be focusing on Yuri's lines, especially because his stuff is where the bulk of the messing around was. he's just insanely fun to translate for and I love burying myself head first into his speech.

will I actually finish this project? dunno. will I get around to posting it? whatever I get done (so all of it if I complete it), and if I decide to call it quits then I'll post what I have at the time I decide that. will it take a long time? probably, but I can always mention stuff along the way...

[jackass-jones]

The anguish I feel knowing no story is ever gonna have characters as good as the letter 😔

[eclipsewxtch]

a trope i absolutely love is a really good “where did they go”/runaway trope. i love that shit. i go FERAL for it. runaway/missing persons/whodunit but the person in question’s body HASNT BEEN FOUND??? i eat it up. allison from pll; sadie from sadie (courtney summers); lucy gray baird (tbosas); the list is ENDLESS!

‘she’s missing?’ someone asks.

‘he’s never been found.” your teacher says solemnly, head bowed.

they left that one sunny afternoon, before the clock struck twelve, and haven’t been home since.

one day, zir was just gone. and zir was here, once. that memory is there—faded like an old photograph, like the indents of your nails in your palm. Zir had been here, it says. but time passes, and those little truths suddenly aren’t truths at all.

i love that shit. i love that opening—it’s a day like any other, or maybe it’s not (maybe the earth swallowed you whole before you even woke up and you know you know before your eyes even open) and this person (they loved you; you knew them; you hated them; you love them; when did you meet?; that face…; did you even know them, who was that?) is gone. it may be a mystery to a small town, or a simple statistic in a big city, or a person you never even met, or someone you tried to, or wish you knew more, or loved like your own family.

they’re gone. but are they dead? you hear whispers wherever you go, like a haunting melody, or a rickety creek of a staircase, or a broken pipe that wind and water can’t help but come through. it’s present; but time moves on; and you listen.

“strange, isn’t it—how someone can leave so suddenly.” was it sudden? was it?

what did you really know about them? is it an open-shut case? is something darker at play?

really, all you want to know is: what the hell happened to—

but you won’t know. it’s not a mystery you’d solve easily, maybe not one you’d solve at all. it is not YOUR story.

…but maybe it could be.

[darlinimamess]

weird identity post warning

i’m a trans man who thought i was a lesbian for a long time and i figured it out eventually but when i did i was really hesitant to let go of the label bc i had found so much community through it. i’d found people who understood me, queer shows and movies, and music that i resonated with. and even though it’s not for me anymore, i still feel very connected to that, especially the music, but i also often feel like i’m not allowed to enjoy it or that i’m intruding on something that is only for wlw, or even just women in general. and i can always understand and connect with it because of my experience before i transitioned but when i engage with certain media, especially in public, it still looks and feels like i’m intruding or trying to make it about me. i feel kind of stuck sometimes- like i’m trying to step away from things that were not made for me, but by doing that there isn’t much that i can connect with. everything made for men is never for all men, it’s for cis men. everything for trans men is either kalvin garrah-fied or cavetown and there’s hardly ever an in between. don’t get me wrong, i enjoy cavetown, but i want something outside of that. anyways. there’s no resolution to this, i don’t have a solution or whatever, i just wanted to say it and see if anyone resonates

[sukugo]

talking about creep anakin, we can have an anakin who forces himself on obi-wan, who's admittedly predatory.

but if we try to remove that. say anakin not actually coming up to obi-wan or forcing him to do anything, just wanting and perhaps making his desire known. in this case, his actions may not be predatory, forceful, themselves. but. they still come across as such due to his condition as child of the force.

so even if anakin doesn't particularly DO anything to obi-wan, doesn’t really act pushy, it won't stop it from feeling that way for obi-wan, who falls victim to the force's whims (which are, in turn, defined by anakin)

so, it's not like either of them have a choice.

anakin can't stop the force from pleasing him. and obi-wan can't stop.... well, anything the force does.

[lavenderlhymes]

When you get this, please respond with five things that make you happy! Then it send to the last ten people in your notifications (anonymously). You never know who might benefit from spreading positivity. ♡

oh this is so sweet! waking up early enough to watch the sunrise, singing with friends, rereading my favorite book series, when someone remembers what I like/can eat and surprise me with it, and finding songs to add to my dnd character playlists 🥰🥰🥰 thanks so much anon!

[karpsicles]

.

[gguk-n]

Hands off (Lando Norris x Reader)

Summary- In world where soulmates exist. Some people have handprints on their body for when their soulmate touches them for the first time. Lando wonders why his soulmate marks are where they are.

Lando was at a sponsor's meeting at McLaren. It was the same old same old stuff. Quite boring if someone asked him. Oscar had ditched him to hang out with his soulmate who he was seen laughing along to while Lando sipped on his glass of champagne until a girl caught his attention. She was dressed in a papaya satin dress looking equally as bored as him.

Lando sauntered over to her, to keep himself a little occupied. "Hey" Lando greeted, catching her attention. She looked up and smiled. "Hi" she greeted back, lazily taking a sip of her drink. "Quite drab" Lando commented. "The atmosphere" he continued. "But you look ravishing" he finished. "What? Expecting me to keep your bed warm" she chided. "If you're offering" Lando chuckled. The pair fell into a comfortable banter. Lando had yet to know her name but it wasn't stopping her from putting him in his place. They started to walk around the venue as they commented on the group of snotty rich people and what they must be talking about.

A couple steps from them a waiter was serving drinks to a group of sponsors when he started walking towards them, his eyes on another group, close by. Lando noticed that he was going to miss the girl in papaya dress and bump into her if she didn't move. Before he could think, he pulled her towards him, to avoid the collision. For a formula one driver, he had no hand eye coordination since he missed her waist completely; instead his hands landed on her ass. She sported a shocked expression, a soft burning sensation on her rear. Being caught off guard, she fell forward with her hands landing directly on his chest, Lando could feel a burning sensation, under her palms.

Y/N had always wondered why her soulmate mark was on her ass. She would joke with her friends that maybe he was some pervert. She would later dismiss their concerns too, but those thoughts would nag at her as she wondered what type of man would implant his both palms on a strangers bum, regardless of the fact that they were soulmates. Y/N couldn't wear bikinis or short shorts or anything mini since anyone could see where the marks were. If someone asked, she would lie and say that they were on her waist. Not like they would check.

Lando found it romantic, a little, yet slightly weird. He had two hand prints on his chest, perfectly encapsulating his pectorals. It was embarrassing to be shirtless, since all his friends would make fun of him. Most people would have marks on their hands or legs or face even but Lando Norris had 2 perfectly bright palm prints on his chest, as if they were holding his tits.

Both of them understood why they had those marks where they did. Y/N quickly straightened herself and brushed his hands off her bum. "I always wondered what type of pervert my soulmate was" she voiced. "I'm sorry. But you are no better." he paused, "You were holding my nipples" he pointed out, now covering his chest. "Not my fault. You caught me off guard" Y/N defended herself. "At least ask me on a date before you decide to grope me" Y/N laughed at the preposterous situation. "Hey!" Lando huffed. "I'm Y/N. Nice to meet you perverted soulmate" she said extending her hand. "Lando. Right back at you" he laughed back, shaking her hand only to pull her in. "I'm allowed to touch that ass when I've already staked my claim" he teased. "Come on dude" she tried to push him away. "Can't be going around calling me dude when I know what that ass feels like" he smirked. "Eww! Can't believe I'm stuck with you" she laughed, pushing him towards a more secluded area. "Why don't you start by showing me that hand print?" she prodded his shirt buttons. "Some one's excited" Lando chuckled, pulling her in. "I don't undress before the first date though" he smirked with his hands firmly on her rear. "Me neither, baby boy" she smirked back, pulling him in by the collar of his shirt for a kiss.

[deconstructthesoup]

One thing I absolutely adore about Dead Boy Detectives is the immaculate costume design. Specifically, how it perfectly encapsulates who the characters are, both as a whole and who they are in the moment.

From the very first scene of the show, we know immediately that Edwin is a bookish, somewhat stuffy guy from the Edwardian era who attended a boarding school, and Charles is a punk from the 1980's who's most likely the wildcard between the two of them, just going off of the way that they're dressed. Both of them have distinct color schemes and different styles, but the general shape of their outfits is actually relatively similar---both of them have collared shirts (Edwin's dress shirt, Charles's polo), something over those shirts (Edwin's vest, Charles's suspenders), a jacket of some kind (Edwin's suit jacket, Charles's flannel thing), a longer overcoat (Edwin's traveling coat, Charles's peacoat), something around the neck (Edwin's bowtie, Charles's necklace), slacks, and nice shoes. They're distinct, yet matching, two clearly defined separate characters yet part of a set.

Edwin's prim, proper, buttoned-up personality lends itself to the way he dresses throughout the season---in the first episode, he only dresses down when he's in the office with Charles, aka his safe place and his safe person, and he doesn't really dress down like that again for a good long while after getting stuck in Port Townsend (though, if my memory serves me correctly, he does take off the suit jacket while watching TV with Niko). But in episode six, he's changed up his usual look for a cozier, casual-looking sweater and a little bit of collarbone, and in episode seven... well, he's in his nightclothes, and he's about as open, raw, and vulnerable as you can get. Edwin's color scheme is also predominately blue, which lines up nicely with his logical and practical, yet deeply sad and closed off personality, and the only time he really wears anything other than his normal blue-and-brown outfit (willingly, that is) is when he's in that green sweater in episode six. And, uh... all I can say is that it's quite telling how blue and green---or, well, teal---are the main colors of the gay/mlm flag.

Charles, by contrast, dresses down a lot, and that makes a lot of sense when you consider the fact that unlike Edwin, he feels comfortable pretty much anywhere. On any given episode, he goes from wearing his peacoat to just wearing his flannel to ditching the flannel to not even wearing the freaking polo---though, again, the latter is something that only happens when he's in the office with Edwin. Safe space, safe person. And, well, plenty of people have analyzed Charles's polo shirt going from red to burgundy to black over the course of the series, and there being a little bit of red under the collar of his coat that's only visible when Edwin fixes it, and then it goes back to burgundy, and then it's red again when Edwin's out of Hell... for good reason! It's color symbolism at its finest! Not to mention, the red and black not only perfectly contrasts Edwin's color scheme, but it also lines up with Charles's personality---he's a rebel, he's hotheaded, he's bold and brash and loud... and yes, he's angry, but he's also so, so loving.

When we first meet Crystal after she loses her memories, her outfit choices feel very deliberate. They're stylish and vaguely trendy, they're arty and a little bit witchy---pretty fitting for a psychic who's also a showbiz kid, even if she doesn't know that last part. But all of her clothes appear thrifted, or at the very least vintage, and the patterns and the general vibe all feel natural and comforting. Her makeup's always fairly simple, her hair's either down or up in a couple of cute space buns... overall, this Crystal looks like the kind of person who'd make you tea when you're in a bad mood, who'll listen when you just need to vent, and who may not always know the right thing to say but will understand what you're going through. But when we see her in the flashbacks, her clothing's flashy and prioritizes high-end trends over comfort, she's either got her hair up or has it straightened, and she not only has dramatic makeup, but acrylics. This is a girl who talks shit about you behind your back, who's bitter and cynical and wants everyone to feel the same way, who makes up for the lack of love and stability in her life via material things. It's also worth noting that Crystal's color scheme has a lot of purple, which is a color that connects to wealth and luxury, but also creativity and magic---which, yeah, fits her two conflicting sides pretty damn well.

You cannot talk about Niko Sasaki without talking about her outfits, and the meaning behind each of them has already been talked about at length. However, one thing that really stands out to me is that the reason they're so iconic isn't just because of the monochrome color schemes, but because they're out there. They're weird, they're eclectic, they're a little mismatched in style sometimes, and they're so unapologetically her. Niko wears heart-shaped sunglasses, unironically. Everything about the way she dresses speaks to how, even though she's a recovering shut-in who initially doesn't want to be perceived, she's still very sure of who she is.

Jenny's design, like Charles and Edwin's, is a design that gives you the key information you need the minute she first appears onscreen. The dark makeup, the silver jewelry, the leather apron, and the hairstyle all point to a person who's tough, doesn't take anyone's shit, and has long since given up on caring what other people think---in other words, she's a badass. But the butterfly tattoo hints at a softer side, a side that we see time and time again throughout the series as she shows that she cares about Crystal and Niko, and even the boys... eventually. Also, Jenny's design is perhaps one of the most clearly queer-coded in the series, to the point where her being a confirmed lesbian is pretty much a no-brainer.

Esther's design oozes camp, from top to bottom. The fluffy coat, the bustier, the boots and the cane and the everything, speak to a woman who's kept with the times and yet has seen it all. There's really not a lot I can fully say about her design, other than what Charles has already said: "She looks like a witch... like, kind of a sexy witch, who smokes a lot." (Or maybe I'm just tired and running out of steam at this point, idk, I love Esther's design and I can't really put it into words.) It's also pretty fitting that her color scheme has a lot of yellow in it---after all, she's always striving for more, so what better color for her than the color of gold?

Everything about the Night Nurse's design speaks to a woman who follows rules and discipline above all else, from the pantsuit to the pinned-up hairstyles to the tie to the heels. She's also the most muted out of the main cast in terms of color, dressing mostly in browns, dull greens, and duller browns---and while I don't have a lot to go into detail about there, I feel like that's kind of a symbol of her narrow-minded and bureaucratic worldview.

And the animal characters... Jesus Christ, I fully forget that they're all being played by human actors. Tragic Mick dresses like a man who's always spent his life by the sea, layered denim and all, and it's never a stretch to see this sad, bushy-bearded, baggy-clothed fisherman and imagine him as a walrus lounging on a beach. Monty, at first glance, seems to only wear black, which would be perfectly fitting for a crow, but when he's in better lighting, you see that he dresses in layers of red and blue, calling to how he envies Charles and Edwin and clearly longs for something more---and this might just be me, but I think that even though his outfits seem fairly normal at first glance, they feel kind of like a costume for Monty more than anything else, like he's trying to emulate a teenager that he's seen on TV more than someone in real life.

The Cat King fits this just as well, with all of his outfits aligning perfectly with whatever his cat form is at the time---when he's a fluffy ginger, it's always sequins and fur coats and clothing pieces that are specifically designed to take up space and call attention, and when he's a black shorthair, it's sleek styles and shiny leather and pieces that are designed to cut an intimidating yet more subtle figure. And while I could go into detail about all of those, what really stands out to me is how clearly queer everything is---more than Jenny's alt lesbian attire, more than Esther's campy coat and corset. From the very first scene he's in, he's wearing a skirt, and it looks natural. Nothing about the way the Cat King presents himself is exaggerated, nothing about the way he dresses is played for laughs---he's flamboyant and feminine and flirty, and he looks so fucking hot while he does it. It's gorgeous.

So... yeah, uh, all the awards for the Dead Boy Detectives costume designers!

[nercynorning]

#that scene with cristabel's body drives me INSANE god... reading the scene now where he tells Mercy he loved Cristabel.... #fuck #he does he really does #and he still goes and does all THAT #knowing not how the terror of rejection drives him and how Mercy told him she forgave him just to give herself an opening to kill him #the whole ending of Harrow the Ninth reads so differently now #john is complicated and a little terrifying #and incredibly human via @mayasaura

every time i think about john its whiplash. he’s so fucked up and so human. he is needlessly cruel. he is doing his best to be kind. he didn’t cure cytherea’s cancer. he killed mercymorn in a fit of rage. he didn’t care about them. they were the only thing he cared about in the whole world. he renames people as a way to own them. he told harrowhark he thought of her like a daughter. he has no one in the whole world anymore. the nun’s body in the memory in the river. don’t look at her, that’s not what she looked like.

[dark-konohagakure2]

just aizen and baby trapping... can you see the vision... just him being a yan and breeding his squad member bc she keeps going agasint his word, aizen doesnt want her to ingure herself, after all aizen needs her for his plan..

tw: noncon, breeding, baby trapping, manipulation, power imbalance, abuse, size difference, humiliation, forced orgasm, sensory manipulation

All characters depicted are 18+

Aizen is a very calm man, frighteningly so, it would take the most dire of dire circumstances for him to so much as break a sweat, let alone lose his cold composure. Very few things irritate him, although insubordination is one thing he can't stand for, especially if it's continuously being done by the same person over and over again.

Normally Aizen would murder or mentally break anyone who'd dare to defy him, but he can't do that in this special case, this minion of his is required for his grand plan, and losing her would be a minor setback, a slight annoyance even. She's a tiny piece in his vast puzzle, but even the absence of the smallest of pieces will make the picture look incomplete. So instead of murdering or imprisoning her, Aizen has a different way to force her to remain by his side.

Aizen could easily just use his ability to instil feelings of adoration into her, but that would be too easy, not very fun for him. While usually a very serious man, Aizen does desire some recreation from time to time, and he isn't fully immune to desiring pleasures of the flesh, and if he can use those pleasures to ensure his plan stays on track, then Aizen will gladly indulge himself on her.

Aizen doesn't need to worry about getting her alone, he knows Las Noches inside and out, so if he needs to find her, he'll do so very quickly, whether she's preoccupied or not. Aizen's expression is unreadable, he's smiling like usual, but it doesn't reach his eyes, it never does reach those cold, calculating eyes of his. His touch is deceptively gentle yet firm as he holds her in place, his words as vague as usual.

"Why are you so insistent on defying me, hmm? Are you perhaps upset about not having enough responsibilities in my ranks? Well don't worry, I'll give you the most important responsibility of them all..."

His vagueness doesn't last very long when his intentions become very clear, as he pulls down her underwear, keeping her in place with his superior strength and size. Aizen is only doing this to remind her of his authority and to give her his 'responsibilities', but that doesn't mean he can't have a bit of fun with it, cruelly mocking her for being such a silly girl in thinking she can defy him without consequence, his mockery of her not stopping when when he's balls deep in her.

He isn't gentle, but he isn't rutting into her like an untamed beast in heat, he's not a simpleton who thinks with the head between his legs, instead he'll move at a pace that's somehow both too slow and too fast at the same time, the tip of his long cock brutally poking against her cervix with each thrust as he prepares to bestow her with his progeny.

Somebody walking in on them is a very real possibility, in fact she won't even know if someone is able to see them or is watching them, because Aizen will manipulate her perception to make it impossible for her to see anybody but him, so she has no clue if they're alone or surrounded by spectators. He's feeling especially cruel, so Aizen will tell her how good a show she's putting on for his Espada, even if they're completely alone.

There is one word that can be used to perfectly encapsulate Aizen's entire being: manipulation. Aizen can manipulate people with both his words and his Kyoka Suigetsu. In this case, Aizen will use his Kanzen Saimin to control not her mind, but her bodies reactions. He won't tell her that he's controlling her body of course, letting her believe that she's cumming uncontrollably on his cock all on her own.

"My my, cumming again are we? Your mouth might lie, but your body certainly doesn't... This is precisely why you're more suited for breeding than fighting."

Aizen will walk away from this lovely little encounter feeling very accomplished. Not only did he put a wayward puzzle piece back into it's proper place, but he ensured that it stays there permanenty. He doesn't really care about having a child, children aren't very interesting for him to interact with, but she certainly needs a baby in her fertile little womb, it'll do wonders to keep her compliant.

[heirofnight]

let's go

pairing: azriel x reader

word count: 1.3k

summary: reader is arranged to be wed within the next 12 hours, and azriel is determined to not let that happen.

a/n: thank you so much for all of the love on the writing i've published so far. my heart could explode. i've never allowed anyone to read anything that i've written, and as nervous as i was, i'm so glad that i made this account. this little fic was inspired by GoT lmao. i hope you like it!

you took in your reflection in the floor length mirror that was propped against the side of the wall. your chambers were dimly lit, somber even - a perfect indication of your own feelings. you'd always loved candles, loved the romantic glow that they'd cast across the walls of your large bedroom. for that reason, you had many of them - big and small - spread across the surfaces of your space. all of them were lit now, and they, along with the moonlight that spilled through your open drapes, provided mood lighting that perfectly encapsulated your own brooding thoughts.

you were getting married tomorrow. but not in a way that was exciting or filled your heart to the brim with joy. no, this was absolutely dreadful - an arranged marriage that was put in to place solely to benefit your royal father. one that you did not want, and would have never agreed to. you didn't even know the male that you were set to wed - had never even seen him.

your father was thrilled. he would not stop boasting about how immensely important this union was (for him), how this event was going to solve so many political issues amongst the court (you didn't give a shit), how happy you'd eventually grow to be (impossible). you were furious, you felt used, and you were in love with another.

azriel.

your eyes fluttered as his name tore through every single chamber of your mind. it felt like you were physically being stabbed through the heart. at this point, you'd rather it. at least you'd die his lover.

your eyes found the floor in front of you, and you took in a sobering breath. you had one more thing that needed to be done before tomorrow's ceremony.

you crossed the wooden floor of your large bedroom, floorboards creaking beneath your bare feet. you sat before your mirrored vanity, pulling a stack of parchment from the small drawer in front of it. and, you began to write. one last letter to the male that you'd loved for close to five years now. the man that held your soul within his scarred hands - hands that had the potential to inflict such harrowing damage. but those same hands had held your beating heart with such care and unrelenting love, it made your chest physically want to split in half to think of it.

my sweet love,

as i sit here on the eve of my wedding day, a day that should be joyous, a celebration for the ages, i can't help but feel as though my heart is trying to leap from my chest. if it were able to do such a thing, i know that it would somehow journey these lands to find its way to you. it is already with you, anyhow, and it always will be. i am sick to think that my walk down the aisle will not end with me standing before you, azriel. such a handsome husband you'd be. please, if you ever wed another, -

you paused your writing as a chilled gust of air hit the back of your neck, your hair whipping about with the impact. you weren't scared, you didn't even flinch - you knew what, or who caused it.

you spun around in your chair, and were met the blanched face of the male you were just writing your farewell correspondence to.

"az," you breathed out, rushing to meet his stiff frame. he was clearly distressed. angry. his breath was heaving from his chest, and his fists were clenched at his sides - wings were flared in irritation.

his wild hazel eyes met your own, and he shook his head in disbelief, shoulders dropping in defeat.

"this can't happen, y/n," he whispered, jaw clenching. he was barely maintaining his composure. you knew he wanted to level this entire manor, storm through the halls and end the lives of every one of your father's men that he came across.

you let out a shaky breath, brows cinching. it would have almost been easier to not see him, especially not tonight. this was gut wrenching.

"az, i have no choice. i'm stuck, i've tried to think of every possible way-," you rambled in a hushed tone, hands gesturing in desperation.

"there is a way," he cut you off, his tone one that could summon death. he'd calmed himself, although just marginally. he'd become still, steady, and sure. his voice took on the same quality as it did when he was focused on a mission. it was cold, full of gravel.

you looked up at him, confused and trying not to get your hopes up. surely if there was an actual way to rid yourself of this nightmare, you'd have already thought of and executed it.

"you come with me. now.", he spoke once more, leaving no room for discussion. he wasn't kidding - even though he knew the consequences of such treason.

"az...", you winced, shaking your head as your gaze hit the floor. you couldn't bare to look at him, nor turn him down, but you had to.

"no, y/n. i don't care. i don't care what happens, i don't care about your father, or his army, or what this means for velaris. you're coming with me. i will not allow this to happen," he was breathing heavily again, hands coming to grasp at your slumped shoulders.

"he will start a war, azriel. he will know exactly where to find me, find us," you whispered, not daring to meet his desperate gaze.

"then we will go somewhere else, we'll go somewhere he won't find us. and we'll figure it out. you and i," he pleaded, voice faltering. the words came out strained, like he was trying not to scream, yell, implode.

you sighed, mulling it over momentarily.

"and rhys? my father will still go to velaris first. we can't unleash my father and his men onto rhys and his people just because of this", you rationalized. the thought of velaris facing another attack at your own expense was nauseating.

"i would level all of prythian with my bare hands because of this. for you," he gritted. he took your face between his hands gently, forcing you to meet his wide eyes. he needed to make you understand. he would not survive this.

you stared at him for a long moment, your expression one of absolute dejection. azriel's heart clenched, his head was pounding. please agree, please, please agree to this, come with me, he chanted in his mind, hoping somehow he'd will you into agreement.

"rhys knows where i am. he knows what i'm doing. and he knows the potential consequences. we've been working on solutions, on strategies. we can do this," he breathed out, his full lips brushing against yours as he spoke.

he was begging you, pleading. you knew he'd get on his knees if he had to. and gods, you wanted to go so badly. you'd never been able to choose anything for yourself - nothing. you'd had no say, no meaningful opinions, and no choice on any matter regarding your own life.

but you'd chosen azriel. he was the only choice you'd ever made, and would forever be the best one. you'd chosen him then, and you'd choose him now.

"i'll pack a bag," you spoke softly, nuzzling the tip of your nose against his. you couldn't help the smile that began to tug at your lips.

a pregnant pause lingered between the both of you as you determined whether or not this was a horrible idea. azriel was half-expecting you to change your mind. he held his breath for longer than was probably healthy, lungs beginning to burn. but then, finally:

"let's go," you stated firmly, true determination woven within your words.

azriel faltered for a moment, his eyes widening slightly as he processed your decision. he was frozen as you untangled yourself from his arms, darting about to quickly pack a bag of your belongings.

"let's go," he repeated, his voice barely a whisper.

a/n: my heart !!! this one came out of nowhere and i had to write it out. sorry if it's kinda dumb. let me know what you think!