#dunno just frustrated tho cause i really wanted to actually start working on mixing the clay colors and i cant really do that yet

[callia-evergreen]

god i hate it when im mentally all set to work on something but the circumstances dont fucking align and i have to wait

[thoseofgreatambition]

bad timing

REQUEST: “ so you know when george loses his ear? with the head injury he gets amnesia but one of the things he remembers is how much he loves the reader (mutual pining but nothing has ever been said bc oblivious dorks r my fave) and he is convinced they must be together bc he is filled with adoration and spends all his time telling reader and his family how smitten he is and how lucky he is and the reader is all !!!!!! and tries to tell george he's mistaken that it's his injury and he's like NONSENSE you are the love of my life and like yeah... that's how a bump to the head finally knocks some sense into two idiots” by @newtandtheseus​

A/N: This was Rosie’s request after winning a place in my giveaway! she told me the idea and I’m super excited to write it!!!

WARNINGS: None lol. Some angst. 

WORD COUNT: 2K

DESCRIPTION: George gets his head bonked when his ear gets chopped off. It changes what was before a pretty tense situation between the two of you into you observing with quite a bit of shock, a very goofy and in love George Weasley.

George didn't know a damn thing that was going on. While this was in the most technical sense an over exaggeration, right now it felt pretty right. He looked at everyone hovered above him, recognizing faces but missing a few names or understanding where he was, and George let out a groan before simply saying what first came to his head when his twin --oh hell how could he not remember that name-- asked him how he felt. 

“Saintlike.” 

His mother seemed to grow paler, as did you-- before he followed up with “’Cause I’m holey-- geddit?” 

You rolled your eyes and pinched the bridge of your nose as Molly gave George some most needed pain relief potion. 

“Glad to know you’ll be alright Weasley.” 

Adoring eyes met your very confused ones when the red haired man on the couch sleepily mumbled, “Who’s Weasley?” 

George watched as simultaneously, around the whole room everyone shot each other a concerned look. His eyes went back to being locked onto yours, with an amount of dedication that you’d longed for before but now seemed unnerving in these circumstances. Fred gave you a quick glance before patting George’s hand. 

“Just go to sleep, alright mate?” 

With a hum, the eldest Weasley twin fell asleep.

                                           ___________________________________

Later, when George woke up it took him a long while to remember what had happened. Even then he could tell there were lots of holes in his memory. 

He’d been hurt. He’d lost an ear. He was here with his family. You were here. There were also other people at the house as well but George didn’t have a damn idea who those were, other than knowing the faces. 

When you came into his view though, something huge came crashing into his memory. 

He loved you. 

He couldn’t remember how you met but he knew for sure that he’d adored you for years. 

You had a frown stitched onto your face that you couldn’t remove. Almost a mirror image of Molly. “Is he going to be okay? I dunno how much he remembers.” 

You’d known George for years-- and had settled into an odd situation with him romance wise. You were in love with him, entirely, but it had never worked out between you two when you actually wanted it to. He starts to like you? You’d just started dating someone else. You want to ask him out? He was snogging someone around the corner. 

Truly, it was a frustrating situation. 

Fred seemed rather sure of himself though, as he patted you on the back and led you back to the couch where George was resting. “Don’t worry-- We’ll figure out what he knows.” Fred perched himself on the couch next to George, and you settled down on the floor, your head about the same level as George’s. “So-- we’re gonna figure out what you know, and get you caught up. Ready mate?” 

George had a bit of trouble tearing his gaze from you, but managed to look at his twin. “Alright, sounds good.” 

“Do you know your name?” 

“George.”

There was a sigh of relief on your end. This entire situation had caused an absurd amount of stress, more than you wanted to admit. “Do you know where you are?” 

There was a pause from George, “England.” at you and his twin’s peering eyes he admitted a bit more sheepishly, “Don’t know any more than that. I can’t remember a lot.” 

Fred shot George a cheerful grin. “Don’t worry Georgie-- you’ll start remembering things soon. You’re at the Burrow. It’s where we grew up. Do you remember my name?” 

Later on, Fred wouldn’t lie to George that it hurt that he didn’t remember his name, but for the moment Fred hid it well enough when George shook his head. 

“I’m sorry. I know it starts with an ‘F’ though--” 

“You’re close! It sounds like an ‘F’. It’s Philip. George and Philip is what everyone always calls us.” 

The scowl you shot at Fred was second only to his mothers. “Don’t mess with him like that Fred!” 

George glanced between you and Fred, “Is Fred his middle name?” 

Fred broke into a series of snickers, and felt just a bit better about everything now that there was a bit more humor in the situation. “Sorry George. My name’s Fred, not Philip. We like pranking, if you don’t remember that.” 

“I remember that. Just like I remember being the funnier one.” 

The brotherly banter you were so used to was back in full force, which provided a level of comfort to you that you could never articulate. Like that you stood up, about to say something about getting some water or seeing if Molly thought now would be a good time to move George since he seemed more aware. 

Only to be stopped by a tight grasp on your hand. Looking down you saw that look on George’s face again. That smile that grazed his lips. It made your heart do a series of flips. 

“We’re in love.” The certainty with which George said that left you gobsmacked, as well as the fact that he said it with Fred right next to you two. 

“We--” you looked at Fred for help, and found none as the man wore a delighted smile. 

Fred  always was a lover of chaotic things like this. 

What an asshole. 

“I love you and you love me and we’re dating, aren’t we?” 

You felt a heat spread across your face. “No-- no we aren’t together George. We’ve never dated before.” 

“We’ve gotta be though! I know it-- I love you to bits and I remember that. How would I feel that way if we weren’t in love?” 

You tried to stammer out a response when you heard the giddy voice of Molly Weasley from the doorway. “You two are in love?” 

Fred jammed his fist in his mouth as he tried not to laugh, and you decided to give him a solid whack upside the head later.  

                              ___________________________________

The last few days had been a little hard on you. In an odd way. It was at first filled with you hearing wonderful things about how much George loved you and how lucky he was that you two were dating. Now though, as George’s memory was starting to come back you could see when he realized something he thought before was wrong. 

Before, he’d looked at you with so much love and adoration, and now he just seemed sad and confused when he saw you. 

Molly had asked you to bring him some tea, in a gesture you were sure was part of her plan for you and George to get together. 

George propped himself up in bed when he heard the door opening. He couldn’t hide the mixed emotions he felt when he saw you-- namely, embarrassment. 

He had spent so much time talking about how lucky he was to have you, how much he adored you to his family, and while they seemed happy-- they had broken the news to him that no-- you two weren’t together. You’d never been together actually. 

Truly, he couldn’t remember either way-- but George didn’t know who else he could trust if he didn’t trust his family. 

“Your mum asked to bring you some tea.”

George tore his eyes away from you and focused on an old stain on his blanket. “Thank you, y/n”

You paused for a little while, not sure what to say that would help. “You already asked your family a lot of questions didn’t you?” When he looked at you with a nod you continued, “Do you have any questions for me?” You sat on the edge of his bed, and gave him a smile. 

George’s heart did a few flips, and he started with the question that was at the forefront of his mind. “Are we together?” 

“No. We’ve never dated.” It hurt to have to say that, especially seeing how crestfallen he looked. “We’ve-- well, how much do you remember about school?” 

“Not a lot.” George racked his mind for a moment. Pranks-- Leaving Hogwarts on a broom-- glimpses of you-- Quidditch-- his siblings. “I remember things, but a lot’s not there.” 

“You and me have bad timing. There’s been a few times where we’ve wanted to-- or I’ve heard...” You clamped your mouth shut as you tried to get your words in order. “There’s been a lot of times where I’ve wanted to ask you out and it’s just been a bad time. Fred told me that something like that had happened with you too-- but I can’t be sure about that...” 

His head hurt almost constantly now, and this conversation wasn’t helping. “So we’ve never dated?” 

“No.”

“But we’ve almost dated?” 

“Yeah.” 

George’s brow crinkled at how ridiculous this all sounded. “Does that mean you love me too?” he could see the hesitation in your eyes, and while George didn’t remember a whole lot he knew what that look meant. He shot upwards in bed, “You do! I was right! Why didn’t you tell me?” 

Now it was your turn to have a red face. “Georgie-- you just got a concussion! You didn’t remember your last name until yesterday! It’s-- it didn’t really feel all that ethical to lean into what you were putting out! Pretty sure it’s not!” 

“But I was right we love each other!” 

“Yes! But--” 

You weren’t able to get any words of protest out, as you felt George scoop you into his arms and give you a crushing hug. 

It wasn’t until now that you were aware how much emotions could be conveyed from physical touch. Truly, this was the most loved you’d ever felt. Your lip wobbled a tiny bit as you tried to keep yourself from tearing up. Scrambling a bit so you could be more square in his lap, you could feel the big grin on his lips pressed against your shoulder. “You’re still not well though Georgie--” 

“Don’t care.” his voice was muffled against your shoulder. “You said we had bad timing before. I don’t care about timing. We’re in love.” 

Like that you let yourself melt against him, pulling away just enough to press a searing kiss to his lips. You gently cradled his face, careful to avoid touching his bandages or hurting him. Despite yourself you did tear up a bit. “We’re in love.” 

taglist: @newtandtheseus @insearchofnewdreams @fainting-fancy @siriuslyimmoony @oh-the-snowinthemoonlight @hermione-who @geeksareunique @phantomhive-shadow @notstandingstill-imlyinginwait @stillwater20-blog @dramatic-and-young @blusnowflakee @l-am-tired @lovelaughlivesmilebright @carolinesbookworld @imaginethis-st @xinyourdreamsx @skiving-snackboxess @wildfire-whizbangs @dwarfwizard-from-panem @doct0rstrange @slytherin2800 @diary-of-an-onliner @answer-the-sirens

[angelofseeking]

just more rambling

about memories and how absolutely fucking angelkin i am lmao

Soo, I’m not saying I’m Raphael because I’ve literally never thought about him even for a second, or prayed to him or anything. (Which... I guess that would be kind of weird and like praying to myself? Maybe I was avoiding it subconsciously? I dunno.) But the more I read about him, the more I feel this really strong connection, if I’m being completely honest.

My search for otherkin stuff began shortly after I had a nightmare about a demon. Some signs were presented to me that led me to research Azazel, who was not a demon but a fallen archangel. I’ve heard many stories about the Watchers and the Nephilim and the Annunaki and so on, and... I can’t say that I necessarily place any stock in them, but for the first time I started to really sympathize with the Watchers. It’s definitely something I want to look into further.

I’ve pretty much ignored Christianity since leaving the Catholic Church, so I’m rather out of touch with it but I’m familiar enough with the context and archetypes and so on. My brief study of Kabbalah has brought me back to Judeo-Christian concepts. But I was searching for more information about archangels and found a painting of Raphael by Murillo and I was kinda struck by the resemblance? Which, like, this is an artist’s interpretation, but still it led me to research more about Raphael.

Raphael is the patron “saint” of healers, the blind, travelers, medicine, and music (among other things). He is only really mentioned in the Catholic Bible in the Book of Tobit, where he disguised himself as a human named Azarias, who claimed to be a traveler, cast out a demon in the desert, and healed a blind man. His counterpart Israfel in Islam is supposed to signal the end times with his trumpet and was also said to be “a beautiful angel who is a master of music, Israfil sings praises to God in a thousand different languages, the breath of which is used to inject life into hosts of angels who add to the songs themselves.”

And you know what else? He was the archangel who bound Azazel and cast him into darkness.

So, I’m thinking about all the other angels I’ve researched. Raziel stood out to me for the longest time, at first because I had an OC named Rasiel (pronounced the same way) and thought I had invented the name. I had a great liking for Raziel as a figure, but I never had the confidence to suggest he was myself. I thought maybe even Azazel was a possibility, because I sympathized with him a lot. Then I thought it was Azrael, because I have a morbid fascination with death and meditate on mortality and the liminal space of nonexistence a lot. But... It just didn’t feel right.

And this? Feels right. If God (Michael) tasked me to bind Azazel, would I feel guilty? Would I feel justified? Was I torn about the decision to follow orders? (I use these names/events more symbolically, as I believe that the truth is not able to be conveyed in a way that humans can understand.)

Because I feel like I still carry this regret. I feel like I understood why Azazel chose his actions. I feel like I loved Michael and Gabriel but that I felt as though I was living in their shadow. I feel like a coward for not joining Azazel when I wanted to. I am frustrated that I chose my love for my brothers over a cause that I believed in. I feel responsible. I feel responsible.

On a lighter note, I find it significant that Raphael is tied to music, and music is central to my practices. I rely heavily upon music to do any kind of spell/energy work. I believe resonance/vibration is extremely important. My mom told me I sang before I ever spoke my first words. Singing is often a spiritual experience for me, and this was nurtured throughout my childhood. When I make music, I perform best when I close my eyes and really put my heart into the sound. It’s kitschy to say, but that’s the only way I can explain why, like... bitch I might be Raphael.

The only time I am ever flirted with or hit on is when I’m at a karaoke bar. As time goes on, I feel I am becoming more asexual and aromantic. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like the attention, but I think too much about obligation and I’m real bad at telling people “no thank you, but I’m flattered.” I’m just awkward.

It’s not just because it’s a place where people drink. And it’s probably very egotistical of me, but I think it’s because I have a nice voice? But the amount of people who get crushes on me after hearing me sing is evidence enough. I’m going to delete this later probably.

Anyway. Two boys hit on me. Usually when I get hit on at these places, I can brush it off because it’s folks I’m just not into. Tonight tho, they were actually cute. And I’m like “cool” but... Nooo? I really wanna be your friend but!! Dating is just too weird!!

But I have been thinking lately about how being angelkin has affirmed my sexuality. Being ace/aro is absolutely a normal human thing (like being non-binary) but it just makes so much sense now why I’m so... like, I really like the idea of sex, I just don’t want to actually do it? I think because it’s one thing to fantasize, but when I do it with other people I just feel embarrassed? It’s not even insecurity, I don’t think. It’s just such an awkward ritual and I don’t think I can enjoy it in the way I’m supposed to. But I guess I’m not fully ruling it out. I just feel like it’s not going to happen again.

when i do stop and think about being in a relationship again, i think about being with another angel. i think about how we communicated/connected through a kind of cosmic music or resonance or whatever. i don’t know what to call it and it’s not just “singing.” i realized i have memories of communicating this way, so that it wasn’t exactly having sex but rather the act of love itself allowed me to connect to another being on a subatomic level.

it’s honestly like the difference between animals mating and humans mating. animals mainly do it for reproduction or pleasure. humans are the ones who mix feelings into it, although not always. doesn’t make it better, just makes it a little more complex. well, i have done it with a decent number of a variety of humans in a variety of ways, but it just doesn’t do it for me. i think that’s why i kept “falling in love” with the people i had sex with. i was so desperate to connect deeply in the only way that i was familiar, the way i was able to do before, but it just left me feeling empty and unfulfilled. that’s how i realized that i was not going to get any fulfillment out of a relationship with a human. it places far too much expectation on them, and it’s completely unfair on my part to do so.

but conversely, i expect a lot from myself in relationships. (and in general) i have always had this frustratingly overwhelming need to help and protect people, and it’s led to fucked up dynamics in relationships. i transform myself to suit the needs of a romantic interest -- not uncommon, of course, especially for survivors of abuse. but in my case it’s also possible that i was coerced to believe that the only way to truly love/value someone is to be involved with them romantically. this is absolutely false.

i love. i love deeply. i see so much goodness and beauty in everything. there is bliss in sadness. the night is bright and full of stars. the trees in winter have a serene beauty. death brings us peace and completion, returns us to the earth. there is bravery in weakness and passion in sacrifice. i turn away from nothing and listen to every perspective.

i don’t believe that everyone is right. i believe that anyone is wrong if they believe only they are right. i can’t bring myself to avert my gaze from the horrors of existence, because... i want to know. i want to understand. if i don’t hear every perspective, how can i know who is wrong and who is right? how can i decide my own opinion?

it takes me a long time to make up my mind but i can never take any perspective at face value. and when i do settle on a position, i ride it into the goddamn ground. fuck cops. eat the rich.

also meant to mention: i don’t know what i would do if somehow i met an angelkin that i felt connected to in a potentially romantic way. i feel like it wouldn’t be any different from connecting with a human. the last person i developed intense feelings for was angelic in the way that they were androgynous and pretty but also felt very ancient and shared my passion for justice. it was better that they did not reciprocate my feelings, and it made me reflect a lot concerning my capacity to exist in a romantic relationship. i wanted more from them, likely because i thought it would make me happy. i let this desire blind me, and i hurt them more than i’ve ever hurt another human, and i’m too full of shame and regret to make the same mistakes.

it’s perfectly natural and human to realize that a romantic relationship is not for everyone, just like having kids or getting married or making any kind of life choice is not the only choice. i just feel like there’s this added layer of “i can’t connect with people romantically even though i care about them deeply.” it’s a poor analogy, but i always compare it to the relationship between a pet and their owner. you love them deeply and would absolutely make any sacrifice for them, and crave their love and company, but you’re... well, you’re two different species.

my body is human. i am not human. 

if i found someone exactly like me, there’s no telling whether they conceptualize it the way i do. are they really like me? if they were, the closest we might be able to get towards a remnant of that deep connection we had as angels, it would be something involved with music. ideally, we’d make music together.

that might’ve been why i thought i was in love with that “angelic” person. we spent a lot of time just cuddling and listening to music. it led to other stuff. i didn’t mind to other stuff, but i might’ve been fine without it.

in the words of miike snow “ooh, i wanna make up my mind / but i don’t know myself”