wingstsworld - Tumblr blog

[wingstsworld]

pureblood parties are always so unnecessarily dim. like vampire dens. or how james imagines them to be, at least. cascading velvet. candlelight. it’s especially pretentious now, he thinks, with the theme being masquerade, the elaborate masks making everyone look the same. not human. an entirely new species between veelas and peacocks, all jewels and feathers.

he doesn't feel like himself without his glasses as well. and he just — doesn't feel real in general, stirred in here among them. like he's an oil painting of himself. he glides through the crowd and feels colors drip in his wake.

he finds lily by the punch table, nursing a crystal goblet, drinking molten gold.

his gait falters. his heart does also.

(lily always looks clear to him. real and human. all her colors entirely to herself.)

"any sign of him?" he asks when he reaches her. he’s been scouring the ballroom for their target tonight — a ministry official the order suspects has been imperiused — to no luck.

"no," she says, gaze sweeping the crowd. "and god, this dress is so itchy."

"shame. you look like a million galleons in it."

she turns to him, million-galleon smile on. "i’m surprised you can put a definite price on it."

"aw, don’t feel bad. it’s just an expression. you know i think you’re priceless."

"yeah?"

he grins. in answer, he asks, "wanna dance?"

and so they dance.

the song is a slow waltz, grand orchestra. it sounds like one of his mum's favorites. he can't name it though. there's just that vague, soft-lit memory: his mum's smile, his dad's wrinkled hands.

his dance partner's attention is still on the crowd.

"maybe he’s not here," he says. his attention is entirely on her. 

"maybe," she says. "i just don't want to... waste the night."

"well, if we have fun while we're at it, it won't be a waste at all."

she smiles. with him now, fully. "and do you mean dancing like this, or — ?"

"or," he answers. "decidedly or."

she laughs. "really? here?"

"why not?"

"uh, because? we're surrounded by enemies?"

"the risk — ah, how do i put it — elevates the experience, won't you say? and it's not like we haven't done it before."

she stops waltzing. "you're serious."

"it's james, actually. sirius is at home."

she laughs again. then, chin up and smirking, his hand in hers, she leads him out of the dance floor.

—

the wall is cold against his back, and, even worse, it's uneven; one of those stupid pureblood family trees carved on marble. once by themselves she starts kissing him like she's in a great hurry, hands all over. james lets her.

the floors here are so black and so shiny it looks like they're floating on a lake. the one at hogwarts, specifically. he kissed lily there for the first time. by it. the trunk of the beech tree he was pressed against at the time was uneven too, but lily was warm on him. and soft. and perfect.

(god, you're too much, she told him that day, coming up for air, lips almost as red as her hair. a fucking goddess. 

you're alright, i guess, he replied, just some regular mortal. it made her laugh so much though. and james reckons making her laugh feels close enough to playing god.)

the light is sparse here, now; just whatever filters in through the giant windows and the cracks between doors. the crescent moon is somehow reflected by james's feet. a ridiculous thought, stepping on the moon. he thinks of remus.

she sucks on his pulse point just then, sighing something against his skin, and james seizes that moment of distraction — tightens his grip on her waist and turns them in one swift movement so she's against the wall. she gasps, back hitting the grooves and ridges with a thud.

he looks down at her. although still wide-eyed, she's looking at him an entirely different way now. he takes her mask off. his hands are shaking. he hopes she doesn't notice. she probably doesn't; the mask's barely left her face and she's reaching up to unbutton his shirt further, nip on his collarbone, too preoccupied to notice much else. it's so hard to catch her eyes here, so frantic and so dark. her reds are all bruise-purple. her green all wrong.

he takes her cold, roaming hands, puts them together, then singlehandedly pins her wrists above her head. she likes that, watched him do it throughout, breath hitching.

then she feels the cold sharp blade against her neck.

she doesn't like that. quite expectedly.

"what the fuck?" she snaps, trying to break free at once. "what are you doing?"

"nothing yet," says james, holding on, ironclad. "but scream and you'll find out."

she keeps quiet, makes a show of pressing her lips together. she glares but doesn't dare move, the glinting end of the dagger too close to skin.

"first," james says, voice low, "you're going to drop your wand."

she complies. the wand clatters on the floor, the sound echoing in the empty hall.

"and then my wand."

her eyes widen, mouth falling open in shock. slowly, defeatedly, she does as she's told.

"good. now you're going to tell me where the fuck my wife is."

"i — but james — "

the tip of the dagger stains red. just the tip of it. barely there. shift and you miss it. except her. or him. whoever the fuck this is doesn't miss it. they press themselves best they can against the wall, but the sting's already started, and there's nowhere to go.

james tilts his head and looks them dead in the eye. "do i seriously look like i'll buy it right now?"

he watches them consider, feels their heart thunder under his weapon hand. the consideration turns to doubt. then it turns to fear. "i'll tell you," they say. it's lily's voice, frenzied and scared, and james wants to scream. wants to sink the blade lower. "i'll tell you," they insist. it's not her, james begs himself to remember. lily is always clear. with her, wherever, the colors are never wrong. "just — please. i'll tell you everything i know, please don't hurt me — "

"oh, if lily is hurt in any way at all," james interrupts, his own heart raging in his chest. "rest assured that people will get hurt." the blade drags, thin red line appearing. he stares at it. he didn't mean to do that. it takes all of his remaining self-control to draw his eyes back up and still his hand.

not her. not her.

not lily.

" — and you're first on my list."

[wingstsworld]

[wingstsworld]

Self portrait, 50 years from now (idealized)

[wingstsworld]

He’s shirtless.

He’s fucking standing there, shirtless.

Lily did not know what to do with her hands, or eyes, or legs, or hair. She’s frozen in the middle of the field where she’d been meeting Marley for a post practice walk back to the castle for the Slug Club meeting. Marley was busy blabbering on about Anna Spinnet getting on her nerves, going on and on about some rule book thing.

Maybe.

To be honest, the words didn’t even register in Lily’s brain. There was nothing going on up there, not a single brain cell firing, not once she caught sight of him. Instead she stood there, mute, wondering if she could die from attraction.

Next to “Fatal Attraction” in the dictionary, was James Potter.

Now don’t get her wrong, she crushed on him everyday. He had many qualities that made him worthy of a swoon.

His hair, for one, was windswept to one side with curls sticking out in places he’d not managed to tap down. She’d once gotten to run her fingers through the strands and they’d felt like sugar candy from the fair, waves spun like thread that might melt from her touch.

His eyes, if she were standing close enough, would be a deep shade of brown with gold and green flecks. Not emerald green like hers, a softer green, like the color of the sea in photos from southern islands. She’d seen it in postcards, almost like diamonds reflecting a green light.

More impressively, he was shirtless.

Rippled arm muscles demanded her gaze as he drank from a water bottle, the water dripping out of his mouth he was so careless with it. It was May, warming up, and the early summer sun had slightly tanned his chest. Curly black hair ran across his chest, and normally she hated chest hair, but this was James Potter. 

He broke all her rules but that only made sense where he was concerned. Lily often wondered if the man had ever followed a rule in his life. He was known for detentions and late night parties with friends. He had no idea how to stay out of trouble, but maybe that’s why she liked him so much.

She couldn’t stay out of trouble either.

Lily imagined if he ever showed up to class like that, she would grab him by the waistband of his quidditch joggers and pull him into her lap. Merlin, he’d tower over her, consume her, on top. His hand was big enough to hold a quaffle so he could handle her breasts with ease. One of those hands ran across his beautiful body, preparing to stretch and—

She swallowed a sigh just as someone side smacked her, making her call out and capturing the attention of everyone nearby.

“What was that for!” Lily demanded with a cry, rubbing the side of her head and glaring at Sirius Black who had his arms crossed and was looking at her like he could read her mind.

“Dunno,” Sirius tilted his head, his grey eyes slightly narrowed, “I couldn’t tell if you were having a stroke or not, your eye kept twitching.”

“So you hit me?” Lily stepped away from the tall Gryffindor, still rubbing her cheek pathetically, her eyes darting back to James who (still shirtless) was now watching them with one eyebrow quirked.

“My house elf taught me to smack my uncle Boris when he was having a stroke,” Sirius shrugged as he waltzed past, cool as could be, in James’ direction. “Hasn’t failed me yet.”

“I wasn’t having a stroke!” She called after him, “I was—“

Sirius grinned wickedly as he turned on a heel to watch her expression momentarily falter as she stopped herself from speaking. “I know what you were doing, but until you’re willing to pay up, gawking counts.”

She shot him a nasty hand gesture at which he laughed before finishing a complete turn to face James who mumbled something to Sirius quietly. Sirius kept in a bit of laughter as he passed James a shirt, not answering.

Lily cursed Sirius within an inch of his life when James took the shirt and covered back up. Sure, she might’ve made a bet with Sirius that she’d never date James Potter, or else she’d owe him twenty galleons, but that hardly meant she couldn’t stare politely when James offered himself up for it.

She just had to figure out how to get him shirtless again.

[wingstsworld]

and this is why baseball is the best sport (see also: these baseball sidequests)

[wingstsworld]

does anyone hve any sin recommendations i just fell from the garden of eden five seconds ago

[wingstsworld]

So many people get Rhysand and Feyre’s dynamic wrong.

Rhys and Feyre are mirrors, they both would and have done the “wrong” thing in order to save the ones they love. They both would rather take on the struggle alone then share the burden. They both don’t view themselves as worthy of what they have, and can only truly love themselves when they love each other. It’s why they work so well, they both mirror the other.

When Feyre says “I see you” to Rhys it’s incredibly powerful because she’s not only seeing him but herself. Feyre only begins to forgive herself for what she did UTM by realizing that she could never condemn Rhys for his actions, because she would have done the same.

Rhys hatred of Nesta over Elain, is because Nesta does not appreciate (at least outwardly) everything Feyre did. It’s not just about Feyre providing for the family and them not, it’s about her treatment she got for sacrificing everything. Rhys knows what’s that like, Rhys has done that and knows what it’s like to be insulted for it. And while he doesn’t ever try to defend himself when insulted he can’t bear to see Feyre insulted over her sacrifices.

It’s the same way Feyre cannot comprehend how people can disregard and insult what Rhys did to save his people. Feyre goes ape shit over any insult towards Rhys, but more or less tolerates Nesta’s abusive comments towards her.

It’s because she’s his mirror, and he is hers.

And if we’re think of in canon, despite all the problems and plotholes with the pregnancy it makes sense that Feyre would be quick to forgive. Feyre would do the same, if she knew Rhys was going to die she would do everything to find a cure before he died. It’s not right, but Feyre takes on the burden of others the same way Rhys does. She understands him and his actions better then anyone else. And he understands her equally as well.

It’s why they work so well and what most people get wrong about them. Feyre does not have “rose colored” glass for Rhys, she understands him. She knows she would make similar choices and she has made similar choices.

[wingstsworld]

[wingstsworld]

one of my worst fears as a house fan is being like “yeah house and wilson are so gay” and ppl thinking the house fandom is just one of the ones that can’t just let 2 men be friends/depict a male friendship and is just exaggerating/reading too much into stuff like NO if anything we’re understating it like 😭

[wingstsworld]

About 70% of my brain is totally dedicated to thinking about Hozier, so here are some Hozier book recs!

Self Titled:

Silver in the Wood by Emily Tesh

• The Bone Houses by Emily Lloyd-Jones

• Your Blood, My Bones by Kelly Andrew

Nina Cried Power:

• No Gods, No Monsters by Cadwell Turnbull

• Iron Widow by Xiran Jay Zhao

• Soulswift by Megan Bannen

Wasteland, Baby:

• They Both Die at the End by Adam Silvera

• Milo and Marcos at the End of the World by Kevin Christopher Snipes

• The Darkness Outside Us by Eliot Schrefer

Unheard, Unearth:

• Icarus by K Ancrum

• Death's Country by R. M. Romero

Summer in the City of Roses by Michelle Ruiz Keil

[wingstsworld]

me writing: i am a god and reality bends to my whims

me proofreading: im too stupid to be alive

[wingstsworld]

its rude to reblog things from people you arent mutuals with fyi. :/

💀 my brother in christopher

[wingstsworld]

leader of a trio of college kids waking past me at walmart: okay. mission number two, finding where the popcorn is.

his friend: wait, what was mission number one?

leader: fucking getting here, travis.

[wingstsworld]

[wingstsworld]

somehow the poor cops who we were told are simply too understaffed and underpaid because of Woke to deal with 'rampant rising crime' have found the strength to beat the shit out of college students across the whole country for peacefully saying "divest from the country killing innocent palestinians in the tens of thousands"

[wingstsworld]

i'm watching house md. WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT. this motherfucker DITCHES HIS WIFE to eat chinese food with his BEST FRIEND and we get a MONTAGE OF THEM LAUGHING and they AREN'T GAY???

[wingstsworld]

hmmm why does my uterus hurt and why do i feel kinda off. weird. surely these are not the warning symptoms of a predictable biological process that occurs on a regular schedule. anyway. im going to wear white pants today.