#long winded metaphors my darling

[jaytriesstuff]

What’s your favorite literary device? I adore the abundant application of assonance and alliteration. Though, my love of oxymorons is old news.

[nik-knight]

A More Gentle Touch

He had hardly spent more than three hours in his human-shaped corporation, yet he was already winded by the time he managed to lower all the shop’s curtains and finally lock the door. A quick miracle was sent behind him to flip the sign to “Most definitely closed” as he trudged into the back room to rest for the evening.

There had been no other way around it. It had seemed like a brilliant idea at the time to invite the book dealer over for a few negotiations; after all, she was an old colleague of his and a delight to have conversations with. However, when spending most of an afternoon around a human, it was nearly impossible to keep up the vague impression of being a human without actually becoming humanoid. Overall, it was easier to spend that time in a human corporation than holding on to a miracled façade for that long.

That didn’t mean it wasn’t still exhausting, though.

It was like walking around in clothes that were much too tight. Humans certainly were not the largest of Her creations, but they were still quite clumsy forms with arms and legs that had to move at the same time, heavy skin, dense bones, and weighty organs all packed inside a cumbersome package.

He transformed as soon as he sat on the sofa. The relief of it all was soothing at least. Fluffy feathers took the place of stuffy clothes, white wings replaced his heavy arms, and those pesky legs thinned to a comfortable weight that could easily be tucked under his body.

Finally, he could be soft and small in all the right ways. He had no idea how Crowley could be humanoid so often without facing similar fatigue. Perhaps that was why the demon spent most of his spare time asleep.

Despite finally being back into his much more comfortable form, the extended period in that skin suit had ruffled his feathers just as literally as metaphorically. There was an itchy irritation under his feathers, but he was much too tired to groom himself right now. All he wanted to do was curl up with a cup of tea and a good book, but the thought of gathering the necessary materials to do so (or even miracle them up) made him want to do nothing but settle into the cushions and stay there until he had the energy to move again. He allowed his tired eyes to drift shut, letting the quiet and dark of the room calm him for just a bit.

He had only been in his weary siesta for a few minutes when he smelled a rather familiar aroma in the back room. He tiredly blinked open his eyes just in time to catch a fresh cup of tea on a saucer delicately placed in front of him. He looked up to see Crowley, in his humanoid form for some reason, pushing the cup closer to where Aziraphale could comfortably dip his beak in for a sip.

“My dear?” He asked, unsure why Crowley was in that form so late in the evening. By now he was usually a snoring pile of coils wrapped around the base of one of Aziraphale's table lamps.

“You looked a little flustered, so I figured you might need a pick-me-up,” he shrugged as if he hadn’t done anything special. Aziraphale could feel his feathers fluff up at the amount of love that was coursing through his tiny body.

“Oh, my darling, how very kin—”

“Anyway,” Crowley coughed, not letting Azriaphale hit him with another four-letter word. “Your feathers are all ruffled, and since I have hands at the moment, I figured I could… Help you straighten them out a little. ‘F ya like, that is.” He turned his head away, trying and failing to hide the embarrassed flush on his cheeks. Luckily Aziraphale’s happy cooing had him looking back just in time to catch the angel’s happy wiggle and flutter.

“Oh, that sounds like just the thing my dear, if you don’t mind terribly?”

“Not at all.” Without a moment's hesitation, Crowley’s hand was held open by Aziraphale, letting him step gently onto his palm so Crowley could bring him to his lap as he sat down.

Aziraphale stretched his wings out as best he could to give Crowley room to work, and soon enough the demon’s fingers were gently grooming Aziraphale’s wings. It wasn’t anything too deep or intense, but just a slight straightening of a few ruffled feathers along with long gentle strokes across the wing to calm the rest of the dove’s frayed nerves. They paused every few minutes so that Crowley could bring the teacup back to Aziraphale’s beak to drink, then it was back to the relaxing grooming that soon had Aziraphale looking like a fluffy melted marshmallow in Crowley’s palm.   

“That good, angel?” Crowley asked after about thirty minutes of grooming and an extra ten minutes of gentle petting that neither one of them brought up.

“Very good, my dear. Thank you so very much.” Aziraphale opened his eyes that he hadn’t realized he had shut during the grooming. He turned his head so he could look back at his darling demon. “I hope it wasn’t too taxing for you to stay in that form just for me.”

Crowley simply gave him a small smile and shrugged. “Some things are worth shifting for.”

There was only the briefest tingle of a miracle before Crowley suddenly found himself with a lap full of human-shaped angel. “Too right, my dear.” He swiftly leaned in, pressing his lips against the demon’s. Crowley stiffened in surprise, but quickly returned the kiss, keeping it gentle and soft just for his angel. When Aziraphale finally pulled away, he only had a moment's notice before suddenly there was a large snake in his hands and lap.

Aziraphale couldn’t help but chuckle. “Getting tired, darling?”

“Just get down here, already, angel,” he grumbled, doing his best to keep himself from hiding his face in his coils.

“Oh, gladly.”

Then there on the sofa was a significantly less ruffled dove resting in his favorite nest of black and red coils. The book Aziraphale had been reading earlier that day was conveniently placed against the long loops of the scaley nest so that Aziraphale could easily read and the serpent’s tail could easily flip the pages. (Aziraphale was yet to discover that his feathers poofed up the slightest bit when he was done with a page, giving Crowley the wordless cue to flip to the next one.)

“Oh, you’re too good to me, dear.” With a happy little wiggle to settle comfortably in his love’s nest, he set his eyes on the beginning of the chapter.

“Shaddap…”

And if Crowley buried his head right into the soft feathers under Azriaphale’s breast to hide his face, well, no one bothered to mention it. After all, Aziraphale had a good book and good company to enjoy.

And enjoy it they did.

[by @nik-knight for @katiefrog217]

[asherloki]

7 and 15 for Sherlock and reader. From the grumpy sunshine affectionate list pretty please 🥺

His summer girl

Sherlock x reader

Word count:- 1261

Fluff

Prompt list, and many others I find endearing!

"Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?

Thou art more lovely and more temperate:

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May.." So on I read as I held my book of Shakespeare's sonnets in front of me. Sonnet 18 is indeed my most favourite. The first time I read it when I was in school, then I read it again for college and then to my delight, there's nothing brighter than a soothing summer's day and if your lover brings such brightness to you, you're indeed lucky. As for my dearest lover, the detective, rather the cold detective as people say sat with me. He held me closer to him with an arm, and as soon as I started reading he put his phone down, shifting his full attention towards me and my reading.

"and summer.." I continued reading until his heavy, beautiful voice continued with me,

"And summer’s lease hath all too short a date;

Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines.."

We read the lines together.

"you're prettier than a summer's day" interrupted Mr Sherlock Holmes, wrapping another arm around my waist as we both sat in his chair. Snuggling closer.

"someone's not paying attention to my reading, isnt my voice appealing anymore?" I replied. He, having such a voice himself has often loved poems when I read them even more.

"ofcourse. it's still beautiful, your voice will never cease to be amusing to me, at the least your reading." He answered. Our flat is calm at the moment, no client, no shouting at Mrs Hudson and all. Perfect for a poetry session. Sherlock placed his chin on my shoulder from behind, his breathing touching my skin. Just like the sunrays hitting directly at us from the window.

"you're cute, you know that Mr grumpy?" I said booping his nose lightly, when we first met he was this cold distant man, never quite came to talk to me on his own. However, he listened everytime I read or talked, to be more specific talked in metaphors.

"no, not me, you're cute" he said snuggling more. And I didn't object.

"do you remember, four years ago, when Christopher and I broke up? I was talking to my friends and family on my phone when I quoted, "The more I know of the world, the more I am convinced that I shall never see a man whom I can really love. I require so much!" you stood outside my door and listened and when I turned to you, you were startled, yet you gave a nod and went away".

He chuckled softly, uff his voice, so close to my ear,

"I do, from Jane Austen's sense and sensibility it was, also because I wondered what love actually is as you talked of it in phone" he replied, "I've often stopped playing violin to listen to you, reading loudly, like that one time when inspector Johnson called me a fool, you were sitting in the kitchen. I felt bad for taking long to solve the case, and I muttered, "perhaps I am" you came quickly and quoted, "The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool" from as you like it by Shakespeare and glanced at him. That ... that motivated me, and in two days I solved it."

I nodded, ofcourse I remember it clearly. I smiled at all the memories of us, from quote talking to trust, trust to friendship, and then here, now as lovers. He doesn't ask for much, isn't like other men who are clingy and... may I dare say like some who are lusty too. He's just him. How come I found him?

"how come I found you?" he asked out aloud, "my summer day? my Sunshine? you filled my world with light. Everyone else seemed to have liked me getting hurt emotionally but you..."

I paused realising he's opening up? he doesn't do it much, so I listened without interrupting,

"you... having you, I feel... I." he stuttered, "I love you, walking by you makes life easier and happier" he finally said, holding me tighter. How come I not love this man? I caressed the back of his hand. However after a few seconds I let go off his grip on me, baffling him slightly, just to face him. To look at him, the vulnerable Sherlock Holmes, which is pretty rare. I leaned on my hand, resting my elbow on the top back of his chair.

"See how she leans her cheek upon her hand.

O, that I were a glove upon that hand

That I might touch that cheek!" he quoted shakespeare, caressing my cheek.

"oh" I said, "well hello Romeo". It made him giggle and me as well.

"If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more." I replied.

He thought for a moment, perhaps this time I gave him a good move, "and it's from?" he asked.

"oops, was it a bouncer detective?" I teased and got to see him pout, he's adorable at home, "Emma by Austen ".

He hummed and nodded, point one goes to me. He didn't stop, rather started reciting, "And every fair from fair sometime declines,

By chance or nature’s changing course untrimm'd;

But thy eternal summer shall not fade,

Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st;"

He continued Shakespeare's sonnet 18. So I, too looked at my book and began reading,

"Nor shall death brag thou wander’st in his shade,

When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st:"

Sherlock held me even closer as he recited next lines looking at me,

"So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,

So long lives this,"

Then I continued with him, reciting my favourite line, "and this gives life to thee".

And we sat in silence, looking into eachother's eyes. The closeness and silence never bothered us. His green eyes gazing at me made me blush and I looked down, smiling softly. Remembering some time has passed perhaps, since we sat like this, so to break the silence I said, "You know what Sherlock" I got up, "I wanna read something casual" saying so I went to look for a contemporary romance novel in our bookshelf when my dearest lover rolled his eyes and said,

"you mean those smutty books, that gives you weird fantasies and you ask me to imitate that in bed?"

I giggled, because that's what I do, I read smuts, get an idea and ask him to do it, "well" I said looking at him, "you don't wanna do it?"

He smiled, shaking his head he replied, "I can't say no to you, can I?"

He too knows how much he likes to have control in bed, and I give him all of that. Was that too private to share? I turned around to choose a book when

I heard his soft footsteps, walking towards me, I turned to him and raised my brows,

"what now detective?"

He said nothing instead came closer and cupped my face, I love it, his big strong hands cupping my cheeks, he leaned to me then said,

"Make me immortal with a kiss"

And his lips met mine. Here, in this flat, the winter man kissed his summer girl. My detective, considered to the cold one met me, the sun girl they say. And the spring that blossomed in our hearts, hope it never fades away.

[lxvestxned]

Tongue Tied (18+)

steven grant x f!reader steven and reader are fresh into their dating phase (after a long time of friendship). reader finally admits she’s ready to try something new. warnings: first time sex talk between two mildly drunk, awkward virgins lmao, pet names, alcohol consumption, minors go tf away this is clearly a telltale “i wrote this purely for myself and only to please me” bit of writing that has collected dust in my notes app. so do with this little 888 word blurb what you will. i just really love this dude and the idiots to lovers trope.

“I don’t really understand sex. I mean obviously because I’ve never done it before.” She didn’t mean to sound so annoyed with her last statement, but it didn’t help that she began to talk through a clenched jaw. “But, I think…” she shifted to hold her cup of wine between both hands as she stared down into it, “… I want to do it with you.”

Steven’s reaction (or rather lack thereof) was no surprise to her. When she looked up through her lashes, it was clear what was going on in his brain from his side of the loveseat. She could practically see the cogs churning and breaking down behind his eyes. And unfortunately, all the metaphorical computer shutdown noises coming from Steven.exe was not enough to fill the silence, so she’d felt the need to buy him time to power back up.

“Obviously, we won’t really know what we’re doing and everyone has warned me that it probably won’t be good the first time. But like— I think all of my friends lost it really young, back when we all had this limited concept of what sex was supposed to be and how we were supposed to be perform in it. And I just know I wouldn’t have to worry about all that with you. And anyway— anyway the other day, all you did was like groan while stretching and I still can’t get it out of my head. I just want to make you… feel good I guess.”

A bit of a long winded way to say ‘please let me put your dick in my mouth’, but at least she eventually got to a point. Steven seemed to have finally defrosted, but only enough to rapidly bat his eyelashes. His face was still stuck doing that thing where one brow was arched a bit higher than the other, his mouth agape despite the fact that he may not be breathing at all.

She took a long sip out of her glass, allowing him all the time in the world to respond. Although she realized that maybe it would be easier if she’d probed him with a question. “So that’s what’s been on my mind lately. What’s on yours?” She punctuated with an amused smile into her glass.

“Sweetheart, darling, my love.” His free hand flattened to his chest, wallops of air finally reviving him there. “Am I red right now? I must be glowing red.” They joined in laughter together as she nodded extra hard. He moved to fanning himself, while he set his own wine glass on the coffee table. She tried not to focus too much on how he had to fold forward and into her proximity to reach.

“Does that mean you want to have sex with me too?”

“Yes. Bloody— yes, love.”

She laughed even harder, inspiring some more from him as well. “Okay, let me say now though, I don’t want to do like full blown sex yet.”

“Of course, yeah.”

“I really, really just want to know how to—“ funny how the proper words to the action never feel right coming out of her mouth. Even when she’d try to engage in the sex-capade talks with her friends that they frequently got in to. Her lips could only press hard together. The rest of the sentence knocked at the front of her skull wanting only to burst out.

Poor Steven looked on patiently, hanging on for dear life. Until he was chuckling out a, “oh, shy now, are we?”

“God, I wish you could just read my mind.” She said instead, throwing a hand out in defeat.

He threw his hand in a similar gesture, “it’s okay, we’re talking about it. Just say it!”

She could feel the anticipation building suddenly, which she knew all too well would cause her to freeze up thrice over. So she started again, “I really, really want to know how to—“ she turned her head as far left as she could, only managing to clear her throat. “Sssssssssss…” ah, she really was useless. She jokingly dry heaved.

And she was grateful for his burst of laughter, he even feigned offense in his reply, “Oh my god, well don’t make yourself sick.”

“Okay, I’m being childish. I’m just going to say it. ‘Cause it’s literally no big deal.” She tried to convince herself, even setting the wine glass down beside his for some kind of finality. “I mean it might be a big deal, it’s not like I’ve seen it yet.” She cocked her brows at his crotch for a second.

“Oh my god.” He sounded incredulous.

“Can I suck your dick?” She dropped her palms to her thighs.

“Oh my god.” His voice pitched a lot lower that time he said it.

She felt aglow again. Awash down her chest like she’d been hit with a craving, just like when he groaned the other day.

He visibly swallowed, then licked his wine-stained lips. Before finally he said, “yes.”

“Yes what?”

“What?”

“Yes, I can what?”

“Yes, you can…” his eyes roamed the space around them distractedly. He was redder than the first time they’d kissed.

She couldn’t help but smile cruelly, as she began to close the distance between them, “see it’s not easy to say, is it?”

His laughter was so breathy she almost didn’t recognize it as such. Until they were both fighting back smiles between smooches.

[therealtruealiyah]

NOVA - enticement

Without a word, skipping a beat, or any kind of thinking at all, Raine ran toward Nova and jumped into her arms. Nova kissed her deeply, wrapping Raine's legs around her waist to secure her properly.

"I'll take that as a yes." Nova pulled back with a smirk before Raine attacked her lips with her own once more. After what seemed like an eternity of breathless, nasty, hot tongue sex, Nova set Raine back upon her feet and took a step back with a satisfied smile. Raine gasped for air, never breaking eye contact with Nova and never, ever wanting to.

"I was beginning to think you were ghosting me." Raine began.

"When we're having so much fun? Never. There were just some… things I had to take care of. You must understand that what I do will keep me away from time to time. You must be alright with that."

"What do you do?" Raine narrowed her eyes. In one swift motion, Nova came forward and leaned down so that she and Raine were at eye level.

"You. As hard as you want me to, my love." Nova growled in that sexy, low, English accent of hers. Raine was— once again— speechless, breathless and wet. So very wet. She could do nothing but stare into the eyes of her fucking maker, mouth slightly agape, drool beginning to trickle off her lips.

Nova was highly entertained.

"You were so kind as to allow me into your home... why don't you come into mine?" Nova whispered, leaning in even closer.

"O-okay." Raine's voice shook with anxiety, not knowing if that were literal or metaphoric, yet craving every bit of it.

"Are you on the schedule here for tomorrow?" Nova straightened her posture.

"Yea- uh, yes. I am."

"Not anymore." Nova's tone elevated a bit, just enough to startle Raine.

"I-I'm not?"

"You're not coming in. They can figure it out without you."

"May I ask why?"

"Because you'll be with me, my love." Nova offered her hand very shortly before Raine eagerly took it. "Make sure you lock this hellhole up on our way out, darling. Wouldn't want complete strangers wandering in."

"Yes, Nova."

______________________________________________

Raine sat in awe, braids whipping through the wind as she watched the scenery change over and over again. This was her first time in a convertible and she wanted the entire experience.

"Whoa! Is this your house?" Raine exclaimed, glitter in her eyes as they slowed to a stop in front of a gigantic modern home. Nova chuckled, pulling her clutch to park.

"No, darling. I have to make a quick drop off. Wait here." Nova instructed, hand brushing Raine's knee as she retrieved a little black pouch from the glove box. Raine could barely make out the golden lettering sewed upon it.

N.M.

N.M.? Raine thought curiously as she watched Nova disappear up the long driveway.

"I wonder what was in that pouch." Raine mumbled to herself. No more than three minutes later, Raine gaped at the wondrous sight that was Nova as she strut perfectly back toward her. What a sight it was. She hardly even noticed the thick yellow envelope in her hands.

"You ready?" Nova grinned as she slid back into the drivers seat of her '98 cherry red drop-top Chevrolet Corvette and secured her seatbelt over her beautiful torso. Nova placed the envelope in between her seat and the gearshift.

"You know my last name, but you never told me yours." Raine said without hesitation as they sped off.

"It isn’t polite to peek, Raine Jackson." Nova scolded in a firm tone.

"I-I'm sorry... I just..." Raine looked down at her hands in her lap, embarrassed.

"Morningstar." Said Nova.

"Huh?"

"My last name. It's Morningstar." She repeated matter-of-factly.

"You're fucking with me." Raine smiled, unbelieving.

"You think?" Nova cocked an eyebrow in Raine's direction, clearly enjoying this unsolicited chess match that she was definitely winning.

"Nova Morningstar..." Raine spoke it softly, as if to summon her. Not just physically, but in all ways.

"I plan on making you moan it later." Nova cut her eyes at Raine, a wicked grin splayed across her lips. "Here we are. Home sweet home."

Raine snapped out of her trance long enough to take a look around. When she did, her jaw dropped.

"No way! You live in Condos de Luxe? I heard there was a three year long waiting list to get housing in this community! How'd you...?"

"Nova does not do lists, my love." Nova spoke for herself, coming to park in the middle of an open 3-car garage.

"Who are you?" Raine's curiosity was piqued. She wanted to know. She needed to know. Who is this woman, really?

However, Raine was not nearly ready enough to find out exactly who... she... was.

[acespaceacepilot]

i'd bleed for anything if it held me the right way 🩸🗡️💥 a wyll/astarion playlist on spotify

(song list + lyrics that made me chose them below the cut)

man or a monster (feat. zayde wølf) - sam tinnesz

it's so hard to tell which side you're on / one day is hell, the next day is the dawn / the lines are blurred, you keep rubbing your eyes / the tables turn, now it's time to survive

eat your young - hozier

i'm starving, darling / let me put my lips to something / let me wrap my teeth around the world / start carving, darling

until it doesn’t hurt - mother mother

i wanna fight, i wanna bite / i wanna swallow all the light / but i'ma stay right here / i'ma stay inside / i'ma just sit tight for another night / if i can't make it right / then i won't make it worse / i'ma just sit tight until it doesn't hurt

biting down - lorde

skip a hit, don't make a sound / (it feels better biting down) / breathed so deep i thought i'd drown / (it feels better biting down) / listen to the beats resound / (it feels better biting down)

furthest star - dirt poor robins

behold the day she found me here / so near the end of love's career / i feared every flower that appeared / had been uprooted by my peers / but then my autumn prayers were heard / just before the frost emerged / and i'll have my just deserts / when, once again, i'm next to her

flesh and bone - black math

break the truth inside of me / climbed down to hell on the devil's tree / i clutched a branch of soot and flame / the thought that rose, to scorch my feet

de selby (part 2) - hozier

what you're given, what you live in / darlin', it finds a way to live in you / and your heart, love, has such darkness / i feel it in the corners of the room

my body is a cage - arcade fire

my body is a cage / that keeps me from dancing with the one i love / but my mind holds the key / you're standing next to me / my mind holds the key / i'm living in an age / that calls darkness light / though my language is dead / still the shapes fill my head

gilded lily - slowed + reverb - cults

now it's been long enough to talk about it / i've started not to doubt it, just wrap my head around it / i remember when you told me it's an everyday decision / but with my double vision, how was i supposed to see the way? / haven't i given enough, given enough? (x4) / always the fool with the slowest heart

dispense with sentiment - we are scientists

i've been turning this over in my head / but i've been trying not to pick it apart / it's an overture to something, i guess / but i'll be goddamned if i can say to what / it's like i'm winding up to speak / for the first time in weeks / i'm trying to make sense / can we start again / and drop our defenses? / it might just be best / if we start dispensing with sentiment

graveyard whistling - nothing but thieves

all that afterlife / i don't hold with it / all your gods are false / just get used to it / let's go out tonight / kill some stubborn myths / set those ghosts alight, get into it. // ok, i admit / i'm not innocent / i did everything and i would again

crying wolf - julien baker

'cause i'm not crying wolf / i'm out here / looking for them / in the morning when i wake up / naked in their den / i'll swear off all the things i thought / that got me here / in the evening / i'll come back again

blood bank - bon iver

that secret that we know / that we don't know how to tell / i'm in love with your honor / i'm in love with your cheeks / what's that noise up the stairs babe? / is that christmas morning creaks?

bite the hand - boygenius

who do you think you are? / who do you think i am? / what do you wanna say? / what do you think will change? / maybe i'm afraid of you (x2) / i'll bite the hand that feeds me (x2) / bite the hand (x2) / bite the hand that needs me (x2)

metaphor - the crane wives

don't look too hard 'cause you won't like the scars he left in me / i've gotten good at making up metaphors / i've gotten good at stretching the truth out of shape / and all these words are sweet and meaningless / you can't trust a single thing i say

various storms & saints - florence + the machine

i'm in the throes of it / somewhere in the belly of the beast / but you took your toll on me / so i gave myself over willingly / oh, you got a hold on me / i don't know how i don't just stand outside and scream / i am teaching myself how to be free

savior complex - phoebe bridgers

baby, you're a vampire / you want blood and i promised / i'm a bad liar / with a savior complex / all the skeletons you hide / show me yours, and i'll show you mine

see the day - the altogether

the sleeping slip has begun to fray / i never thought i'd see the day / the pious hunter stops stalking prey / i never thought i'd see the day

myth - beach house

if you built yourself a myth / you'd know just what to give / what comes after this / momentary bliss? / the consequence / of what you do to me / help me to name it

posthumous forgiveness - tame impala

ever since i was a small boy / no one else compared to you, no way / i always thought heroes stayed close / whenever troubled times arose / i didn't know, ain't always how it goes / every single word you told me / i believed without a question, always / to save all of us / you told us both to trust / but now i know you only saved yourself

slowing down - the backseat lovers

whisper in my ear / that you need me / but if you saw it clearly / would you leave me? / i'm honest to you / but i'm lying to myself / and i don't wanna hear it / it has something to do / with the balance of my blood / and when i'll have to spill it

only - ry x

coming from the cold / buried under heat / lay you on the floor / i was only falling in love / cut me like a rose / turn me like a beast / hold you to the floor / i was only falling in love

daylight - david kushner

tellin' myself it's the last time / can you spare any mercy that you might find / if i'm down on my knees again? / deep down, way down, lord, i try / try to follow your light, but it's night time / please, don't leave me in the end

touch - sleeping at last

i know, i know the sirens sound / just before the walls come down / pain's a well-intentioned weatherman / predicting god as best he can / but god, i wanna feel again

will anybody ever love me? - sufjan stevens

will anybody ever love me? / for good reasons / without grievance, not for sport / will anybody ever love me? / in every season / pledge allegiance to my heart / pledge allegiance to my burning heart

holy lover - keaton henson

i think i love you / baby, please, don't be afraid of me / i think i love you / and oh, holy lover / i'll be the colors i can't see / and i will try harder / avail my father, live every need / and i've been so lonely / oh, please, just hold me so i can sleep

true love will find you in the end - someone, benjamin longman

but how can it recognize you / if you don't step out into the light, the light / don't be sad i know you will / don't give up until / true love will find you in the end

the moon doesn’t mind - lord huron

the sky doesn't care what my poor heart wants / and the desert can't hear my cries / the moon doesn't mind that i'm left all alone / and she's gone, gone

my love mine all mine - mitski

'cause my love is mine, all mine / i love, my, my, mine / nothing in the world belongs to me / but my love, mine, all mine

to build a home - the cinematic orchestra, patrick watson

this is a place where i don't feel alone / this is a place where i feel at home / 'cause, i built a home / for you / for me / until it disappeared / from me / from you

[immeasurable-depths]

Chapter 2 of my post-Grey Valley fight is finally done! It’s definitely not my best work but I just wanted it finished regardless, I’ve got a few more things rotating in my brain that I’m excited to write now this is done. Let me know what you think!

Snippet here, rest on AO3 ft. Lots of angst, hurt/comfort, lots of magic metaphors and something spicy too…

Laudna hated that she didn’t know what Imogen was thinking - and that she was too afraid to ask.

She hadn’t been able to protect her in the fight, and now, she couldn’t protect her from whatever mental torrent was overwhelming her from the inside. And Imogen wasn’t offering it up, either.

Laudna yearned to cross the chasm that separated them, to say something to get Imogen to open up. To make her feel Laudna’s concern for her, to share the burden of whatever she was bottling up. But the wind snatched away any half-formed words that skittered across Laudna’s lips.

It was Imogen, eventually, that broke the silence.

“What is it, Laudna? I can practically see the thoughts spillin’ out of your head, and that’s with this circlet on.” Her voice was soft, with the faintest edge of teasing - but she wasn’t quite managing to sell it. Weariness coated every word, and her eyes gazed forlornly out across the plain; Laudna wished she could look into them.

“It’s nothing, dear.” Now it was Laudna’s own voice that rang false.

“Laudna.”

She sighed, fists clenched into balls at her side. Her pale skin glowed even in the weak moonlight.

“I can’t say what’s bothering me, Imogen. It’s selfish.”

Imogen softened at this, turning towards Laudna to meet her gaze. Pale moonlight glanced off lavender irises in a way that made Laudna’s breath hitch in her chest.

“Hey. None of that.” Imogen always tried to stop Laudna’s self-flagellation in its tracks. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. No judgements here.” A smile ghosted across her lips, small but genuine.

So Laudna yielded first. She sidled closer to Imogen and took one of her hands in both of her own, fingers lacing together effortlessly like pieces of a puzzle.

“I have to admit, Imogen - it was hard to watch you in that fight, today.” She smiled sadly. “I don’t know if I’ve just… not realised how nerve-wracking it is when you have someone you care for so deeply, or…” She trailed off, searching Imogen’s face, but Imogen remained impassive, carefully guarding her expression. Laudna continued.

“You know I think you’re very capable. But watching you put yourself in danger, drawing that creature’s ire…” She frowned and swallowed hard, scared to say her suspicions out loud, not wanting it to come across like an accusation. Laudna cleared her throat. “Well. Like I said, it was hard to watch. I can’t… fathom losing you, Imogen. Now more than ever.” Her eyes were pleading.

Imogen smiled again, her gaze softening in a way that made Laudna’s heart feel like it was being squeezed warmly in her chest.

“That ain’t selfish, Laudna.” She clasped her fingers around Laudna’s. “It’s nice.”

But still, Imogen looked down, not fully meeting Laudna’s eyes. Laudna could tell she still wasn’t saying something, was guarding her words and her thoughts and her heart in a way that Laudna longed to break through, to find out what was hurting her so she could tear it down piece by piece.

If Imogen wasn’t sharing, Laudna would have to draw it out of her. And that meant saying her own fears aloud.

“Sometimes it seemed like… like you were putting yourself at risk intentionally, Imogen. Going out into the open like that, it was… reckless, darling.”

Imogen’s lips pursed, and her grip on Laudna’s fingers loosened.

Laudna opened her mouth to speak again, eyes searching Imogen’s face beseechingly.

“Please don’t.” Her voice was impossibly small. “Don’t… don’t leave me. Not when I just got you.”

Imogen’s face crumpled at that, pain crossing her expression. She tried to withdraw from Laudna’s grasp, but Laudna held on, clinging desperately to Imogen’s hands.

“I’m not…” Imogen trailed off, before starting again. “I’m not tryn’a leave you, Laudna. I could never,” and Laudna believed this, the quiet earnestness permeating through her words. There was a pause, longer than the gaps between Laudna’s heartbeats, too long.

Imogen inhaled deeply, then continued. Her gaze stayed resolutely on their clasped hands.

“Sometimes I feel like I need to draw some fire on myself. To take the hit, to make up for… everythin’.”

The silence rang hollow between them. A cold sensation that had nothing to do with the wind trickled down Laudna’s spine as her eyes roved across Imogen’s face, trying to understand.

“Imogen, what do you - ?”

“All I do is put you in danger, Laudna,” Imogen whispered bitterly. Her hands balled into fists, trying to extricate herself from Laudna’s grasp.

Laudna shook her head, slowly.

“That’s not true, Imogen…”

“That beast earlier today. Dusk, tryin’ to get between us and manipulatin’ everythin’.” Imogen’s voice shook as she choked out the next word. “Otohan.”

“No. No! You can’t hold yourself responsible for these things,” Laudna’s eyes widened and she stooped down a little, desperate to make eye contact with Imogen, to make her see the truth of her words.

Imogen inhaled sharply, and then looked up, gaze boring into Laudna’s; her purple eyes had turned a deep black. Laudna felt herself recoil at the intensity, before steeling herself and meeting the fierce stare.

“Responsible? Look at everythin’ that’s happened, Laud!” Imogen’s hands gestured in exasperation; Laudna couldn’t help but notice that the pale purple lines trailing up her arms flashed white in the moonlight. “My powers… it’s all tied in. Mine, and my mother’s. She’s so involved in all this, and I… I need to prove to Keyleth that I’m not gonna betray them. She already doesn’t trust me.”

“Imogen,” Laudna’s voice came out in a hiss, disbelief plain on her face as she shook her head slowly, trying to convey her disagreement. “You are not responsible for the mistakes of your mother. Any more than I’m responsible for what she does.” She pointed emphatically towards her own temple.

But Imogen was shaking her head. “It’s not the same, Laudna.”

“It’s - it’s…” Laudna was spluttering now, trying desperately to put together an argument to change Imogen’s mind. She could feel a ravine growing between them, widening and widening with every falsehood that Imogen used to convince herself that she was evil.

Laudna lowered her voice, trying to adopt a calm, soothing tone to bring down Imogen’s frantic intensity.

“You’re so brave, Imogen. But -”

“Brave? Ha!” Imogen’s laugh came out as a humourless bark. Her hands flew to her hair and she ran her fingers through it frantically, eyes scrunching shut as she spoke faster and faster.

“I’m anythin’ but brave, Laudna. I’m a coward. It’s like… it’s like there’s somethin’ broken inside me. It’s been broken since my mother left me with these powers and no way of understandin’ them. She claims she’s protecting me, but it’s a lie. She’s not protecting me. She’s runnin’, too. Guess she taught me something.”

Suddenly, all the intensity dropped from Imogen’s speech. She spoke in a hushed voice, bleak and resigned to what she had so effectively convinced herself to believe. Her previously animated hands slumped to her sides, and she stared desolately across the grey horizon.

“All I do is run from the storm. It’s time I stood up and faced it.”

[sherryzade]

Hit me with those music recs, darling, my family forbid nonAmerican music when I turned 14 lest it make me Less Well Assimilated and I need to catch up

i gotchu friend, it's a crime that u were robbed of experiencing arab music and we must right this injustice !!!!

pls note that its late and i am who i am meaning i will gush endlessly abt my love for arab music and culture so there is a read more. also i'm MUCH less familiar with farsi and persian music than i am with arab music so i can't give many recs for that but spotify has a nice persian essentials playlist and a contemporary farsi playlist, and rly if you look up iranian/persian/farsi music, you will find a TON.

dammi falasteeni (my blood is palestinian) by mohammad assaf ⁠— [youtube w translation] ⁠— i think this is like. THE quintessential arab song. the unofficial palestinian national anthem. absolutely no one is normal about this song, and why would you be when it slaps so hard? a huge symbol of palestinian resistance, and recently removed from spotify for "antisemitism" (huge lie, the song is just a celebration of palestine)

nassam alayna el-hawa (the wind blew over us) by fairuz ⁠— [spotify] [translation] ⁠— fairuz is one of the most iconic arab singers and she drops classic after classic. her music is v traditional and i always joke that it's old ppl music (bc all arab parents adore her) but she's universally beloved. also translation note: in arabic, "hawa" i.e. wind is a metaphor for love!

yalla tenam reema (let reema sleep) — [spotify] [translation] ⁠— very popular levantine lullaby that feels like home 🥲❤ lots of versions of this song exist, but this is the most popular. fun fact: i forgot abt this song for a long time until i read it in a book documenting syrian culture and it unlocked hidden childhood memories.

sah sah (wake up) by nancy ajram ⁠— [spotify] [translation] ⁠— nancy ajram is a rly popular contemporary arab musicians, very hip w the youngins on the tikky takky, and her music is a blend of traditional arab elements with western pop! very fun, very upbeat, immaculate vibes

lamma bada yatathana ⁠— [spotify] [translation] ⁠— ik i said fairuz is "old ppl music (affectionate)", but this song is like. about 800 years old so it takes the cake lol. it's from ye olde andalusia, so lots of versions of it exist. the singer here is lena chamamyan, a syrian singer whomst i adore.

cha'am (damascus) by lena chamamyan ⁠— [spotify] [translation] ⁠— i have to include this song in particular bc i'm incapable of listening to it without tearing up. it's about the experience of being displaced from syria, and lena sings it with so much emotion that it's just. very cathartic and painful and beautiful all at once.

el hantoor by saad el soghayar ⁠— [spotify] [translation] ⁠— this song is so unbelievably cute and also like. the VIBES. what else is there to say. i, too, wanna ride a carriage around egypt.

el tannoura (the skirt) by fares karam ⁠— [spotify] [translation] ⁠— listen. yes this song feels a little sexist but like. it fucks so hard and it is my feminist kryptonite. also, PS on the translation: it says that he calls her "conceited" but imo that's not a great translation. the song more has a vibe of "oh she's hot shit and she knows it," but its not like outright insulting. you could very much make the argument that this song is not objectifying and more just sex positive.

the police are not ours by jowan safadi ⁠— [spotify] [translation] ⁠— remember kids: acab applies to west asia too !!!

boshret khair (good tidings) by hussain aljassmi ⁠— [spotify] [translation] ⁠— gang i'm so normal about this song (lie). literally such a bop with such a lovely message about solidarity among your countrymen and beyond. if i wasn't so busy shaking ass i'd be crying. s tier song, this is what healthy patriotism looks like !!

hadal ahbek (i will still love you) by issam alnajjar ⁠— [spotify] [translation] ⁠— this song blew up on the tikky takky and i mean. for good reason. so catchy, so wholesome, so romantic. literally no notes, its a perfect song.

fawda (chaos) by carole samaha ⁠— [spotify] [translation] ⁠— absolutely banging song with the sole message of "get these drama queens away from me, god i need to breathe" and she's so real for that

holm (dream) by emel ⁠— [spotify] [translation] ⁠— tbh i just stumbled across this song and thought it was dope, but just now i checked the singer's about page on spotify and i need to listen to more of her stuff cause she's got an amazing history. she's a tunisian singer and was a huge voice for the tunisian revolution. her voice is fr angelic, so its dope to know that she's an incredible person on top of being an incredible singer.

fuqaati (my bubble) by ruba shamshoum ⁠— [spotify] [translation + interview] ⁠— this is a very small niche artist but she's literally so talented and has a more jazzy style than the other recs on this list so !! i had to include her bc her style is super unique and pretty. also we always hype up palestinian artists in this household !!

there's literally no shortage of dope arab music basically, this is literally just a sampling of my faves. spotify has a bunch of dope arab music playlists that they update weekly and if you like the general sound then i highly recommend listening to more of it! also even though arab music def has its own like. unique sound, there's tons of artists that do tons of various genres. there's arab jazz, arab reggae, arab rap, etc etc etc, we love cultural exchange and cultural appreciation, amen

[jessource]

sentence starters: poetry edition.

❝what does it feel like to be lonely? it feels like being hungry; like being hungry when everyone around you is readying for a feast.❞ ❝it hurts, in the way that feelings do, and it also has physical consequences that take place invisibly, inside the closed compartments of the body.❞ ❝the pure and simple truth is rarely pure, and never simple.❞ ❝there were two reasons i was scared to let people in; the damage they could do, and the damage they could find.❞ ❝i often see how you sob over what you destroy, how you want to stop and just worship.❞ ❝it's all the love you want to give, but cannot. all that unspent love gathers up in the corners of your eyes, the lump in your throat, and in that hollow part of your chest. grief is just love with no place to go.❞ ❝i want to say something but shame prevents me.❞ ❝they say lavender softens anxiety and i wonder whether i can plant a garden so dense in your mind that the knots in your chest unravel and never tighten again.❞ ❝crawl inside this body. find me where i am most ruined, love me there.❞ ❝perhaps cherries look violent in the sunlight. perhaps you should let the moon be your couturier.❞ ❝i need some older, wiser being to cry to. i talk to god but the sky is empty.❞ ❝everybody's got a bone to pick. we arise from the dust already aching. when god made the dinosaurs he said, lets see what teeth can do—lets see what asteroids can undo.❞ ❝and all this is metaphor. an ordinary hand—just lonely for something to touch that touches back.❞ ❝but what you don’t realize is that tomorrow will never arrive. it will only ever be today, with tomorrow lingering just within your grasp. but by then it’s too late to reach out, because you've already left all your promises in a place that'll always be just out of reach.❞ ❝and i am beginning to feel like nothing more than an observer in my own life. always watching idly by, but never doing.❞ ❝you are darned between the cracks of my bones and sewn deep into my veins. you’ve built a home in my ribs and have taken up residence in the softest parts of my skin.❞ ❝we're empty boats, blown forward—like loose strands of hair—by a long and steady wind, living without knowing what we feel or want.❞ ❝when you return to something you love, it’s already beyond repair.❞ ❝and even though i know exactly how this will end. i can't help but imagine how drowning in you would be a tragically sweet way to end.❞ ❝blue is the typical heavenly colour. the ultimate feeling it creates is one of rest. when it sinks to almost black, it echoes grief that is hardly human.❞ ❝forgive me if i have come out of my battle hood, battered and unpretty and tiresome. for i am a victor nonetheless of the way i carry myself. and my worth, my suffering, my fight, will not be marred by how unwell i walk away from the trenches of war.❞ ❝and i wish i could tell you that the aching was a beautiful rebirth of some magnificent kind. but there is no beauty to be found in this kind of survival.❞ ❝i yearned desperately to disappear into a book of poetry or a textbook of spells, something enchanting and mysterious, instead of clumsily taking up residence in an awkward body that half felt right, half felt wrong.❞ ❝and i see myself, flat, ridiculous, a cut-paper shadow between the eye of the sun and the eyes of the tulips.❞ ❝life gets hard sometimes. i know, darling. look at me. you are not broken beyond repair. you are always capable of mending.❞ ❝parallel lines have a lot in common, but they never meet. ever. you might think that's sad. but every other pair of lines meets once and then drifts apart forever. which is pretty sad too.❞ ❝i know i don’t make sense, (name). this is the problem. i’m a sick person, a crazy wishbone. i have razors under my tongue. i’m sorry i cut you, (name), i’m so—so sorry.❞ ❝you have haunted my thoughts and my dreams since the moment i laid eyes on you. i have memorised the slant of your brow and the wave in your hair, the sweep of your lashes and the rhythm of your steps.❞ ❝who are we at the end of the day? ourselves or the images of ourselves that we create? ragged lillies in march or lit molotov rags? boots pounding cobblestones or glass shards of broken storefront windows?❞ ❝what is victory but a song written to comfort the defeated? what is defeat but realising that you have been wrong every step of the way.❞ ❝in my dreams i am kissing your mouth and you're whispering, ‘where have you been?’ i say, ‘i've been lost but i'm here now. you're the only person who has ever been able to find me.’❞ ❝you must be someone special my dear, my darling, my love. because i thought of you for about the thousandth time today.❞ ❝from childhood's hour i have not been as others were. i have not seen—as others saw.❞ ❝here's a truth i've never told anyone else: in summer i ache more than in any other season. i wish i could say i'll be bright for you, but i worry about my tongue turning to ash at the first syllable—i'll be soft for you though, a nectarine under kitchen lights.❞ ❝the truth is this, every monster you have met or will ever meet, was once a human being with a soul that was as soft and light as silk. someone stole that silk from their soul and turned them into this. so when you see a monster next, always remember this—do not fear the thing before you. fear the thing that created it instead.❞ ❝i think i love the ocean because it's calm, beautiful, infinite. but also angry, harsh, and magnificent. and that intrigues me.❞ ❝i am always the wind, and never the bird. going, going where i am told to be, rather than free.❞ ❝and my worth, my suffering, my fight, will not be marred by how unwell i walk away from the trenches of war.❞ ❝the nights get heavy like they always do. i am older which means when i think of forests i get stuck not on the robin eggs but on the fox teeth. in my head i am hunting for myself, but i come up empty again.❞ ❝take this kiss upon the brow and, in parting from you now, this much let me avow—you are not wrong, who deem that my days have been a  dream.❞ ❝and i am tearing myself apart, piece by piece, losing the scattered remnants of what i once was, just trying to find where my shorelines begin and yours end.❞ ❝why does tragedy exist? because you are full of rage.❞ ❝where in the body is the soul located? i imagine it to be somewhere in the chest. some will say it rests in the pit of the stomach, but that is not where i feel my being resides. i want to know is that what this feeling inside my chest is? or is it something else unorthodox, yet homely?❞ ❝i wasn’t always a house on fire. but i’ve always been full of light.❞ ❝you are a church of broken glass and hallelujahs. you are haunted like every other holy thing.❞ ❝there is light in your eyes and dark in your soul, and i would not change a thing about you for all the treasures in the universe.❞ ❝from childhood i had never believed in permanence, and yet i had longed for it.❞ ❝why are you full of rage? because you are full of grief.❞ ❝for i have swallowed whole the demons of past, some yours, some mine, who have taken residence in between the crooks of my hollowed out bones, and haunted the only place i’ve ever been able to call home. they have burned themselves deep into memories of past, uninvited and unwelcome and have laid claim to the way my bones wrestle and rattle within my own skin. ❞

[yourlocaldisneyvillain]

As requested, here is the beginning of the Snowy Saga set of askbox fics for my darling Local Disney Villain ❤️ No ships, just Lucifer, Mazikeen, and a wild, vicious killer. (Rated G, lol) ₍⸍⸌̣ ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎₍⸍⸌̣ ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎₍⸍⸌̣ ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎ Ruling over hell gets dull after a few millennia. There’s only so many ways to damn a soul or instigate a fight between demons. 

And Lucifer is bored. 

They often venture to the overworld to assuage the never ending void that is their soul, the inky blackness that threatens to swallow them whole. 

(They will never give God the satisfaction of succumbing to it.) 

Sometimes they interfere with mortal affairs or watch their petty little problems play out. Sometimes they simply wander about and enjoy a change of scenery. Today, Lucifer decides to stroll through a cemetery to read a few epitaphs and bask in the silence. Idly inspecting the names on a grave, the only sounds around them are the rustling of leaves, the occasional birdsong, and… a scream. A tiny one, but a cry for help nonetheless. Following the sound, Lucifer comes across a miniature battleground - a mouse cornered against the roots of an old oak tree, a snow white cat looming over it. There is blood on the ground and the poor mouse is panting heavily. There is blood on the cat’s paws and it shows no sign of exertion. In fact, it glances towards Lucifer suspiciously before deciding to continue torturing the smaller creature. The cat bops the mouse around as it squeaks and squeals, pausing each time the mouse stops moving. It is not yet time for the final blow. 

Captivated, Lucifer kneels down beside the scene, one hand propping up their head while they watch the tiny display of brutality. It doesn’t take long before the cat grows weary of the game, instead biting into the mouse’s side. The anguish. The violence. The cat looks at Lucifer with its prey still squirming. Such striking eyes - a deep, rusty orange that pairs nicely with the blood around its mouth. Lucifer smiles as the cat shakes its head, tossing the mouse back and forth until all the squeaks stop. The corpse drops to the grass and the cat munches away, purring and swishing its tail contentedly. 

“Good show, little killer,” Lucifer says, clapping their hands together in a soft applause. “I too like to play with my food.”

The cat glances at Lucifer and disregards its meal, deciding the devil to be a far more interesting sight. It winds its way around Lucifer’s legs, still purring, headbutting their legs on each turn. The creature is rewarded by Lucifer running their nails along its spine. It flops over in delight, revealing its stomach to the world. 

“A bold choice,” Lucifer says, stroking the cat’s soft belly while it kneads the air. “I could disembowel you here and now, you realize?”

The cat, of course, does not respond to Lucifer’s words. It is nothing mythical, not a familiar or a messenger. It’s just a small, fluffy animal with an empty skull and a fondness for scratches. It is nothing.

Lucifer scoops up the cat with one hand and stands. It belongs in hell, just the same as any other sinner. 

Perhaps it can ward off the never ending boredom. 

₍⸍⸌̣ ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎₍⸍⸌̣ ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎₍⸍⸌̣ ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎

in these trying times, i have been given the best gift i could possibly imagine. in-between my exams and work and crying and being Stressed(TM) my darling zephyr sent me this. i am not exaggerating when i say it literally gave me strength to metaphorically get up from the floor and continue asdkjlfghl. my exams are still Raging(TM) and every time i need a pick-me-up i read this. i just....... it fills me with so much joy. not to be mushy on main, i will continue to be mushy in @zephyr-is-tired's dms, but zephyr, you must know your friendship has literally made me less Insane(TM). AND then you ALSO give me a lovely fic?????? i am crying, dying, screaming, yelling, kicking my feet BC LUCIFER HAS A CAT. dsafhgjfjashgfsffdhsuiifhdushfduasfahdhdfafdsfhdis <3

[bye-bye-sunbird]

I AM INTERESTED!! 😍😍 I wanna know how to implement more tragedy in my stories, and thank you sm for the recs! I'll be sure to look em up later 🥰🥰

NJASNDJKASNDKAJ You flatter me, my darling love u//w//u <3

I think the advice I can give, according to my writing, is something similar to "show, don't tell".

There are many ways to write tragedies. To my liking, I use tragedy not only as a moment of pain, but as a shadow that is cast over the character's world, and that never completely leaves them. There are moments that resemble happiness, but this shadow will always darken those moments: A smile that slowly fades, eyes that cling to what they can see from their window, empty words of love, saying that you forgive without intending to do so.

I like the tragedy that occurs when you give the characters what they want, but not what they need. This may be getting something they wanted, but the cost they pay turns out to be very high.

They get the girl they wanted, but she no longer has the qualities they loved so much and made her special. They get that long-awaited kiss, but it feels forced. They get that "I love you" they yearned for so long, but her eyes say something else.

Also, in Gothic literature, as it was created at a time when people were shocked by an ankle sticking out of a skirt, many of these passionate feelings were reflected in nature itself. Nature and feelings stood in opposition to industry and reason, feeling passionately was akin to being wild. That is why so much emphasis is placed on the environment, and that is something that we owe a great deal to that literary style: Setting, Scene, Aesthetics.

Use the environment as a reflection of your characters, put them in the middle of the rain when their mind is tormented, lay them down on the path to feel the sun when they are happy and calm, let the snow fall and lock them in their houses when they are depressed and it is impossible for them to leave that state of unwellness.

An example of this in a work of mine could be this excerpt from "The Romance of Certain Old Clothes:"

"The morning air was filled with mist from the forest that surrounded the estate, and the gargoyles and stone demons on the garden walls seemed blurred as if seen through a veil of tears."

In literature, an example of this comes from Rebecca:

“The road to Manderley lay ahead. There was no moon. The sky above our heads was inky black. But the sky on the horizon was not dark at all. It was shot with crimson, like a splash of blood. And the ashes blew towards us with the salt wind from the sea.” ― Daphne DuMaurier, Rebecca.

In both cases, a phenomenon of nature is happening, and it serves as a setting. But they also serve as a metaphor for the sentiment the characters involved in the scene won't speak aloud, either because they don't want to face their feelings, or because they aren't completely aware of them.

My writing advice is, of course, not universal. I think it would be more properly named: Styling advice for writers? Not everyone is going to like it, nor is it going to work for them. But I hope this was at the very least interesting to read <3!

[ohfiendangelical]

— MARRIED IN MOUNT AIRY  ♡   STARTERS —

the following are lyric starters taken from nicole dollanganger’s 2023 album married in mount airy. i tried my best to choose lines that have the most potential as semi-realistic dialogue, though a level of purple prose and heavy metaphor is inescapable with lyric-based starters. all tracks included save for track 10, summer song, which is an instrumental. use & adjust however you see fit. (trigger warnings in abundance: this is nicole dollanganger, after all.) 

TRACK 001   ♡   married in mount airy 

“we made love beneath the mirrored ceiling.”  “all you have to bring is your love of everything." “don’t recall what we were drinking.” “there was something very strange in the air.” “don’t recall what we were singing.” “he tasted of sherry.” “i remember swinging with my hands caught in the curls of his long hair.” 

TRACK 002   ♡   gold satin dreamer 

“i dream of the lake.” “i feel you in the wind.” “love you, baby.” “i wait for it to get dark.” “all those dreams left out in the sun, they run like syrup and clot like blood — disfigured beyond recognition.”  “even though other faces i forget, yours is carved out of stone.”  “tryin’a take you out of me is like tryin’a take smoke out of wood.”  “gold satin dreamer, gold satin heart.” 

TRACK 003   ♡   dogwood

“please don’t take him from me.” “i need him, you know i do.” “there’s no telling that man what to do.”  “you’ll have to pry him from my cold, dead grip.” “i refuse to understand.” “he just makes his own bed.” “there’s no use trying.” “you know how reckless he can be sometimes.” “he doesn’t mean it when he says he don’t care if he lives or dies.”  “i’m not letting go of him.”

TRACK 004   ♡   runnin’ free

“please don’t go.” “i can’t trust myself to be alone.” “i hear them drive off into the night.” “i’ll die out here if i stay.” “he’d love it that way.”  “the dogs in the yard keep me up with their cries in the night.” “the days are long.”

TRACK 005   ♡   bad man

“i wish he didn’t have to die.” “he was a bad man.” “i’m still crying, but i’m not sorry.” “i couldn’t give a goddamn about it.” “he had to go — and he’d say the same, you know?” “i could tell you that i don’t love him, but you know it would be a lie.” “goddamn him, he knows why.” “i’ve washed him out of my clothes.” 

TRACK 006   ♡   my darling true

“you won’t change your ways.” “it’s time for me to let you go.” “you may just be the death of me, but the truth is i’d love it so.”  “hold me ‘til i’m cold and blue.” “you play such wicked games.” “that girl’s plain dumb.” “she just loves pain.”

TRACK 007   ♡   moonlite

“got you mounted on a wall in the back of my mind.” “i just can’t forget, try as i might.” “i stay on the drink and you stay on my mind.” “you were my girl, my thing, my pet, to do anything i wanted with.”  “i wanna hold you in my hands like a porcelain decanter.” “i love you so much, i can’t stand you.” “i see right through you.” “i pray you can feel my eyes.” “the drunker he got, the truer he spoke.” “i keep a piece of you locked in my heart.”  “sometimes you’re my girl, and sometimes, bitch, you’re dead.” 

TRACK 008   ♡   sometime after midnight

“he’ll be picking me up sometime after midnight.” “i’ve spent all day thinking of what i’ll wear.” “there’s this feeling in my stomach — wondering if i should just ignore it…”  “when something bad happens, it’s usually at night.”

TRACK 009   ♡   nymphs finding the head of orpheus

“i’ll make myself sick from the water.” “all my tears and rage could fill a revolver.” “now i see.” “i used to think you must be the water i drink.” “in the dark, i wait.” “i used to dream of the day it’d just be you and me.” “you cruel, cruel man.”

TRACK 011   ♡   whispering glades

“i’m sure as in life, there will be beautiful women there in your death.” “you just have your way of charming those who catch your eye like shiny things.” “you’re a nightmare disguised as a good dream.” “when she wants a garden, you give her a rose.” “you just have your ways, what with all of those grotesque displays of love you show.” “i feel sorry for them because how could they know?” “you give nothing and think it too much.” “i’ll have a smile painted on my face.” “hollywood suits you, darling; i think you should stay.” 

TRACK 012   ♡   i’ll wait for you to call

“i’ll wait for you to call.” “if i wait my whole life, it won’t be wasted at all.” “i’m fine to love you from afar.” “if i don’t see you again, i understand it’s just how things are.”

[616c4rt3r]

a final goodbye to steven grant rogers .

being handed the last remaining drop of steve rogers blood was not something she expected to happen . but it was happening , and she was . . . nervous ? uncomfortable ? unsettled . despite all of her confusing feelings , peggy knew the right thing to do .

thanking mr . jarvis for the thought , the brunette fled the ssr . moving as if on autopilot towards the brooklyn bridge where she knew would be the best spot to release her love to the city he took pride in . it was a strange moment , she hadn’t even remembered grabbing her coat before rushing to the bridge .

peggy didn’t know wether to make a speech about how she would always love him . how she would carry his honour and his words with her in everything she did . what is grief if not love preserving , right ? what a silly thought . all this love and nowhere to put it .

so , she popped the vial , tipping the remainder of steve’s blood to the east river . allowing him to flow with the waves through the city he took so much pride in . peggy couldn’t save him , but she could do him this honour .

“ bye , my darling . ” was all she was able to get out before the lump in her throat grew . a tear slid down her cheek as she watched the flow of water . ironic , wasn’t it ? it felt as though he was with her in this moment , guiding her through her goodbye .

oh , how she longed for him to be there . his warm smile ; his ability to always make it light — make her feel light . oh , how she missed him so dearly .

peggy reached for the handkerchief in her pocket after allowing a few more tears to run . there was no use in crying over lost love . he wouldn’t want her to weep , it always made him so sad to see her weep . again , another silly thought that made her chuckle dryly .

steve would always be with her . in the breeze than ran through her hair ; in the scenery around her , he would make the greatest of sunsets for her .

peering out at the scenery in front of her , she leaned against the railing , chestnut locks falling into her face and suddenly being blown away again by the wind — she could believe it was him tucking it away .

watching the river flow by was calming , however not as calming as the thought of him being at peace . laid to rest , in a metaphorical manner . she could give him that .

steve rogers would always be in brooklyn , where she laid him to rest . where she loved him , and lost him .

“ i’ll treasure your memory dearly , my love . i promise to always do right by you . to always stand up and fight for what i believe in . ” her voice was soft , speaking to the wind as if his spirit lingered around her .

“ i promise , steve . . . ” was the final thing she had to say for him . he could finally rest —

she could finally rest knowing nobody could hurt him again . all she ever wanted was to keep him safe .

[misscrazyfangirl321]

Helen/John: Star Wars au. maybe a sith john?

He was much more fearsome in person. He towered over her, draped in a coat of black leather-though she couldn’t be sure of what kind-face firmly concealed by a dark mask. 

She’d heard stories her whole life of this man, but to see him face to face (as it were) was almost enough to send her skittering back to her mother’s ship, tail tucked. Almost. 

But Ashley Magnus was no coward, so she gripped her light saber firmly with one hand, and raised her head to face him.

He chuckled, apparently unconcerned by her presence. His mistake; it never worked out well for people who underestimated her. “Ashley,” he rasped out, voice almost mechanical through the mask, “So good to finally meet you. Please, sit. We’ve so much to talk about.”

After months of Jedi training she broke into his top-secret base, and he was acting like she was here for a friendly chat? Unbelievable. “We’ve got nothing to talk about,” she corrected, drawing her lightsaber up, ignoring the racing in her chest. She could do this; it was what she’d trained for (more than that; what she was born for). 

“No?” He hummed. “Not even your father?”

Rage washed over her, wild and reckless (she could hear Henry’s voice in the back of her mind, reminding her not to let her emotions get the better of her, but even that wasn’t enough to ground her in the face of this arrogant cruelty). “You killed my father.”

He had the nerve to laugh, loud and full. It was a horrible sound, one she never hoped to hear again. “Did I? I suppose I did.” 

“And my mother has spent every waking minute since then trying to find a way to kill you for it.” She drew in a breath. “I guess I’m it.” 

She lunged at him suddenly, but he took a half-step back, leaving her stumbling to keep from colliding with the wall. With a scowl she turned on him, drawing her lightsaber up to his throat-

“She really thinks about me, even after all this time?”

He sounded so absurdly pleased that she couldn’t help but falter, confusion throwing her for just a heartbeat. A heartbeat was all he needed, apparently, to maneuver around her, catching her by the arm, locking her lightsaber in place. She swung around with a fist (she learned to fight with that first, long before she knew about the Force, and if she had to finish this with it, so be it), but he caught that, too. Or… Did he? He held up his hand in front of her, and her fist was frozen in place.

The jerk was using the Force too. Fine, then. “Yeah, well, you killed her husband.” She poured all her focus into the Force, shoving with all her might. He released her, stumbling back a few steps. 

“So she told you.” At the very least, he finally sounded a bit winded. “And Mummy wouldn’t lie to you, right?” 

Against her will, a seed of doubt lodged itself in her chest. Her mother’s voice echoed through her mind: Don’t listen to him. Don’t let him speak. Whatever he says to you, whatever he claims, he’ll only be trying to manipulate you. He’d like nothing more than to have you by your father’s side, darling, so please, don’t let him get a word in. Ironically, it was those words that now gave her pause; what exactly was Mom afraid of him saying? 

Apparently noting her hesitation, he relaxed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Your mother is gifted in many ways,” he said, slow and easy, without a care in the world. “But the Force isn’t one of them. Surely you must have wondered how you came by it?”

Dread she couldn’t name curled around her throat. “My father was a Jedi.” It shouldn’t have been a question. 

“Indeed I was.” No. No. “But that was a very long time ago.” 

He couldn’t be-he couldn’t-”You’re lying,” she bit out, but something deep inside told her it was true. Every question she’d never been able to make sense of suddenly fell into place, in the worst possible way. 

“I’m not.” Her throat tightened, and not metaphorically. He lifted a hand, and her feet left the ground. “But there will be plenty of time to talk about that later.” 

She wanted to ask him what he meant. She wanted to drive her lightsaber through him with all the anger she’d ever felt. She wanted to run away, and beg her mom to tell her the truth. But she could do nothing but dangle in place until, at last, the world went dark. 

(When she woke, he was sitting by her bedside, mask settled on his lap. “Good morning, Ashley,” he murmured, and though his voice was rough, it was far more human than before. That almost made it worse. “It’s time we had that talk.”)

[ohmykazuha]

late night cuddles

a/n: where is my s/o... i need cuddles....... gfdsgjhk screams please don't let this flop!!! ahhhhh!!!!!!!! i hope you like this!

char.: kaeya x gn!reader, diluc x gn!reader, zhongli x gn!reader

kaeya ⋆ ࣪. ᓚᘏᗢ

- candles. candles and soft music as the two of you cuddle on the couch. maybe an episode of a drama or something plays in the background

- kaeya's the type to hold you on his lap and give you forehead kisses ahajkhfahjskflghfkl

- BLANKET SNUGGLES BLANKET SNUGGLES BLANKET SNUGGLES

- okay but fr though, kaeya gives such good cuddles

- they make you feel so warm & happy inside!!!!!!!!

- like... it reminds you of gooey warm brownies and warm milk and honey and soft freshly pressed sheets and cookies

- cuddles for everything!!!!!!!! is kaeya's mantra.

- cuddles when you wake up! cuddles when you fall asleep! cuddles when you're working! cuddles when you're making dinner! cuddles 24/7!

- he buries his head in your shoulders, sighing contentedly. kaeya wraps his arm around you and brings you close to him ahasgfjks

- i feel like the two of you would fall asleep together on the couch

- hehe.

- kaeya is hands-down, 100% the best cuddler you've ever known!

diluc ⋆ ࣪. ᓚᘏᗢ

- fireplace snuggles. do i need to say anything else /lh

- but seriously though – you and diluc always end up cuddling on the couch after dinner or something

- adelinde makes the two of you a pot of tea and she heads off hehe she's the sweetest

- diluc holds you close, your form laying on top of him like a pillow

- he kind of holds you like a bolster – not wrapping his legs around you, but more so like laying side by side and his arm around you

- if that makes sense? :"D

- anyways, his cuddles are always 100% the best!

- it's soft and huggy and it means a lot, because not many people think that diluc is a rather tactile person. he can be tactile when he wants to, though.

- i think diluc, with all the winery affairs and still undercover keeping tabs on his brother, likes to wind down with cuddles after a long day!

- our resident batman can be a preeeeeeetty good cuddler. wink wink. he's always the best in your eyes XD

zhongli ⋆ ࣪. ᓚᘏᗢ

- mmmmMMM WHY CAN'T HE BE REAL!!!!

- he's a naturally good cuddler. literally naturally metaphorically technically mechanically genuinely-

- grandpa hugs

- zhongli likes to hug you from behind. simply because he is that tall

- again, like kaeya, blanket snuggles. he would cuddle in bed with you and wrap the blanket around the two of you, as he holds you close

- sfw and very sweet!

- zhongli strokes your back as well – he'd absent-mindedly end up braiding (if you have long enough hair) or combing his fingers through your hair.

- i feel like he would also fall asleep cuddling you!

- big spoon zhongli and occasional little spoon zhongli XD

- yeah. zhongli's hugs are just... something to look forward to after a long day at work

- "you made it through the day, darling. you deserve every little bit of this, don't you think? i think you deserve all the hugs and cuddles in the world."

- zhongli is the best cuddler ever, in your opinion ;)

taglist: @bookuya, @mika-zuko, @dilucbar, @starglitterz, @cherubbic, @noirkkat, @the-gayest-sky-kid, @shxnosuke, @eternism

hope you enjoyed this! please like/reblog if you liked this! it gives me a better aggregate of what people like ~

[dapandapod]

In the light of the stars

HAPPY SUPER BELATED BORTHDAY @kuripon ripon​ MY DARLING!!! I am so sorry this one took me, what? Three months?? to finish?? I am so sorry my love, I hope you like it!! Please enjoy this smol offering of love, my love! <3

Warnings: Uh, emotional hurt/comfort? lonely jaskier, but geralt fixes it.

On Ao3 here

Time passes in a blur while walking the path. Seasons come and seasons go, especially when you have so many to spend.

But some days carry more weight than others. Not that Jaskier cares much about his birthday, usually. It’s just that it is the first time in a long time he has had anyone to tell about it.

The first day of the new year, when Jaskier was little, he used to pretend that all celebrations were just for him. He always looked forward to them, even if most people were still hung over from saying goodbye of the old year.

But eventually, it too faded and became a day like every other. New Year’s Eve took over, and Jaskier was alright with that. The nights he spent in Oxenfurt, counting down the hours, are still very precious to him.

This year is different. This year, he is spending it up in the cold mountain. This year, he knows that somebody knows.... And he thought, hoped, pretended, maybe... that he would care.

But as Jaskier opens his eyes on the first day of the new year, everything is the same. Quiet. Cold.

The breakfast in the big hall is leftovers from the small feast they made themselves the day before. Lambert nods at Jaskier as he sits down and Eskel looks like he drank another bottle of gull when the others went to bed. Smells like it too. Vesemir and Coën are cleaning up in the kitchens, but Geralt is nowhere to be seen.

Jaskier's heart sinks. Most likely he is with Yennefer and Ciri, it makes sense. He'd just hoped..... it doesn't matter. He said it a long time ago. It is not important, he has had so many birthdays, it is not like they are special anymore.

Though if he is honest with himself, they were only special because he had someone he cared for to spend the day with. It's enough.

These people are his friends, some of them even closing in on family. They do care, in their own way.

Jaskier does what he always does. He sits down on a balcony, scribbles and sings in the cold sunshine, his lute safe inside from the freezing winds. A bottle of wine keeps him warm, and he sips on it as he sketches the rolling hills and roaring wyverns in the distance. It is peaceful.

As lunchtime closes in, he sees Geralt cross the courtyard. He knows better than to hope, but his heart is betraying him.

Running down the stairs, taking the steps two at the time at breakneck speed, he catches Geralt in the door.

But the witcher only smiles, asking if he is hungry, and Jaskier... well, he doesn't want to push.

Their relationship is still fragile. There is still a metaphorical kikimora in the room, blocking all steps forward. Jaskier is a little afraid to poke it, to wake it, even if it is to ask it to leave. Who knows what havoc it will make if set loose.

So Jaskier smiles back, tells Geralt he is ravenous, the shell of a man, starving, possibly wasting away from lack of nutrients. No one can ever accuse him of not having a dramatic flare.

Lunch is a humble affair, mostly noticeable because Ciri only joins them as the others are finishing up. Her hair is tied back, she has a smudge of soot on her cheek and something that looks like white dust is covering the sleeves of her arms. Curious, but she refuses to tell him what she is doing, just wolfing down her hare stew and then she is gone again.

That afternoon Jaskier spends in the library.

There are a great many books he would like to take a look at, but most of them are so damaged from time and moisture, the latter of which is hard to keep out in an old keep like this, especially with the damages it has sustained.

He has taken it upon himself to transfer what he can from those books that still are readable, onto new pages. First he used his spare notebook, but when Vesemir noticed, he supplied him with more materials.

Journals, letters, lore and school books. Religious texts from near and far, songs and languages forgotten as the world passed them by. Jaskier tries not to linger on that thought, tries to think about the now. For the first time in almost 80 years, Jaskier has found a family that, for once, has time on their side.

Jaskier is not even sure Geralt has noticed that Jaskier barely ages, despite Yennefer's pointed remarks and jokes. And he would like to keep them.

The afternoon drags by, and as soon as Jaskier moves around the keep, Geralt is gone.

Even if nobody congratulates him, or gifts him something, just anything, he would have enjoyed some company. This solitude is fraying on his nerves, throwing all kinds of unwanted thoughts into his mind. Like he has worn out his welcome, that Geralt doesn't care anymore, that nobody would notice if he left.

That isn't the case, of course it isn't. But the thoughts are still there, despite how Geralt actually took the time, took the care, to apologize about his outburst, admitted that he wants Jaskier around, despite that charging energy that remains between them every time they part to their own room.

The thoughts are still there, and right now it is so hard to fight them.

Jaskier makes his way to the kitchen, hoping to drown his sorrows in Eskel's hidden stash of sweets he is keeping on the top shelf and pretends nobody with a nose can't sniff out.

Instead he finds a young princess furiously whipping something in a bowl. When she notices him, she gives an angry squeak and chases him out again. Ah, so it was flour, not dust, on her sleeves.

Instead, Jaskier goes looking for the lab, Lambert always has something hidden away that he shouldn't have, mostly meaning Yennefer's minty treats. But there too, he is unwelcome. Lambert is cleaning out his bottles, fumes and suspicious liquids making the room terribly ill suited for bards.

Maybe he should just go to bed.

Maybe he can pretend like today never happened, that he never hoped to get just a little bit of attention.

So he does. Jaskier skips dinner in favour of crawling into bed, curling around a book on monster psychology he's been struggling to decipher all day.

No one comes knocking. No one seems to wonder where he is. And Jaskier pretends it is alright. Many hours later, Jaskier actually managed to get some sleep.

There is a light knock on his door, and then another when he doesn't immediately reply.

"Jaskier?" Geralt calls through the door. "Are you there?"

That makes him bolt upright, blinking blearily into the dim room.

"I'm here." He croaks, rubbing his eyes and trying to wake his mostly still dreaming mind.

Geralt steps inside, looking all too warmly dressed to be indoors.

"You missed dinner." He says, hiding his arms behind his back.

"Oh. I must have fallen asleep reading." Jaskier says, only half lying. He did, but it was also his intention.

"Do uh.... Hmm. Want to come with me for a bit?"

Jaskier tilts his head curiously.

"Do I need as much clothes as you?"

"More." Geralt smiles teasingly. "I want to show you something."

Jaskier dresses slowly, Geralt's eyes on him as he rebuttons his chemise and stuffs it down his trousers. When he puts on his cloak, Geralt mutters under his breath, steps in close and puts his own cloak around him too.

"It's going to be cold," Geralt says when Jaskier looks up at him. Jaskier's heart is trying to beat out of his chest, the witcher can probably hear it clear as day, as close as they are standing.

"What about you?" Jaskier asks softly.

"I'll grab a spare on our way out. You are more sensitive to the cold."

Then Geralt leads them away. He steals Vesemir's cloak on the way, and then grabs Jaskier's mittens hand in his.

With this much clothing Jaskier is expecting to be led outside, but instead, Geralt leads them up. Up, up, up, all those blasted stairs of this keep, but the view is stunning.

The sky is stretching out in every direction, stars bright against the inky black. It is beautiful.

He is lost in it for a moment, his eyes drawn to constellations and tales found up there.

Geralt brings him back to the present with a gentle nudge, and then he notices the balcony itself.

It has blankets and pillows, a few candles lighting up a basket and a suspicious little box.

"What's this?" Jaskier asks quietly. He feels like he knows, but he wants to, needs to hear it....

"I'm sorry it took so long. Ciri was struggling with the cake she wanted to make you, and Yennefer refused to get the wine. I hope you like it."

Jaskier stares, first at the scene, and then up at Geralt.

"I do." He whispers, and Geralt's smile is small and satisfied.

They sit down together, Geralt is pouring them some wine and they try the cake that Ciri made. It is a little crooked, but it tastes very cake-like, so they count it as a success.

Jaskier shivers again, but this time it is from more than just the cold. He sits stiffly at first, barely daring to believe he is allowed this.

Maybe the kikimora in the room doesn't need to be poked. Maybe he can just inch around it, and leave it behind...

Building up his courage, he allows himself to relax, lean into Geralt's body, lean his head against his shoulder.

Geralt shifts, but only to make them more comfortable. The blankets are pooled in their lap, their free but incredibly gloved hands inching towards each other.

Jaskier feels like flying, like singing, like crying, when Geralt lifts their joined hands, presses a kiss to his gloved knuckles, and leans his head against Jaskier's.

"Happy birthday." Geralt whispers, and Jaskier lets out all the tension he's been carrying all day.

"Thank you," he whispers back, afraid to break the moment. "I thought you had forgotten."

"I'm sorry. I just wanted to surprise you."

"You did. I didn't expect it. Thank you."

"Jaskier, look at me."

It takes another moment of gathering his courage, until he can lean back enough to meet the witcher's eyes.

"This past year has been.... the worst, in a long time. I'm sorry I pushed you away and hurt you. All of us being here at the keep, it has been... It's been the biggest blessing life could give me."

"Geralt..."

"I would like to fix it. Everything I broke."

"You didn't do it alone."

"No. But I threw the first punch. Twice. And I shouldn't have."

Jaskier tightens his grip around Geralt's hand and leans against him again.

"You are also working on fixing it. Thank you for making tonight special."

"This isn't all. Good thing you slept a little, because it might be a while."

"What do you mean?"

"Have you ever seen the northern lights?"