hear me howling

i am a demon in disguise, i am on fire inside, and my pain is mine.

[phantomemes]

collection of prompts  /  starter sentences taken from the  cursedsuggestion  blog 

“ tell me we’ll be safe at least for a little while ” “ no one can hear you and no one can help you ” “ ruin my life and never leave me ” “ haunt me , fucker ” “ leap off the precipice before anyone can shove you ” “ now you know how i feel about you ” “ think of me when you want to come home ” “ you made your choice so live with it ” “ don’t look back on it ” “ family does not guarantee safety ” “ you were an adult for most of your childhood ” “ you’ll be okay somewhere in that vague future tense ” “ what i’m saying is what happened was fucked up ” “ you’re crushed under the spine bending weight of yourself ” “ you fell in love with yourself and projected it onto me ” “ i’m the one with the power this time ” “ i bite off more than i can chew ” “ you ruined your own self ” “ i never say the right things ” “ you didn’t outgrow your misery  ,  you grew into it ” “ i look after me and mine ” “ we’re twin souls ” “ you molded me into something terrible ” “ i’m too rigid to bend back ” “ no one’s coming to fix you  ;  put yourself back together ” “ i’m not even a real person ” “ you don’t love  ,  you just devour what i give ” “ why do you expect others to treat you better than you treat yourself ? ” “ you should try to be you ” “ sometimes fixing something is stopping it from breaking further ” “ you don’t say what you mean  ,  just what sounds good ” “ all you do is watch ” “ i’m a bad habit with a bad attitude ” “ everything you are shown has a purpose ” “ someone else wears your face ” “ my soul is a bit fucked up ” “ i’ll burn the sheets when you go ” “ there is no god that i can see ” “ love isn’t an excuse ” “ scream into the universe until it screams back ” “ i wanted you to stay ” “ the past is with you  ,  for better or worse ” “ this hate keeps me warm in the winter ” “ i’m a wrong number ”

[aperihellion]

are you and ringpyre/skystray dating?

nah, we just drink our “love and respect our friends” juice frequently

[aperihellion]

me, four months later, Very Much dating theus: i don’t actually have anything funny to say here i just want everyone to know we’re dating

[aperihellion]

part of my soul | wingpyre‌:

     hamlet  was  never  one  to  keep  people  very  close  to  him,   horatio  knew  that  much  stepping  into  this.   and  he  wouldn’t  change  a  single  thing  about  it,   he  has  plenty  reason  to  not  TRUST  as  freely  as  most  give.  but—   perhaps  he’s  selfish  in  these  thoughts.   because  while  hamlet  has  kept  an  arm’s  length  away  from  other  people  he  keeps  horatio  at  his  hip.   at  his  beck  and  call.   just  a  phonecall  away.

     the  normal  stone  cold  expression  on  his  face  slips  away  and  softens  a  bit  more  when  he  hears  hamlet  say  that.   he  always  says  things  like  that,   it  can  be  overwhelming  sometimes,   having  hamlet,   but  horatio  would  rather  see  him  than  the  world  happy.

     ❝  my  dear  lord …   hamlet …  ❞   he  doesn’t  know  what  to  say,   never  does,   really,  when  he  goes  off  on  these …   not  rants  because  that  would  infer  it’s  an  angry  discussion.   his  ADORATION  for  him,   perhaps?

     hamlet  trusts  horatio  in  a  way  that  he  trusts  no  other .  not  even  rosencrantz  and  guildenstern  occupy  a  spot  as  close  to  his  heart  as  horatio .  (  ophelia's  place  is  close ,  true ,  but  even  with  her ,  back  home ,  he  can't  truly  be  himself  at  all  times .  )  (  there's  a  part  of  him  that  wants  to  impress  her ,  to  hide  the  unsavory  parts  of  himself ,  whereas  with  horatio  he  doesn't  feel  that  urge .  )  and  when  one  occupies  a  place  this  close  to  the  prince  of  denmark's  heart ,  hamlet  doesn't  feel  the  need  to  hide  his  feelings .  

     and  he  knows  that  it  can  be  overwhelming .  he  knows  that  his  love  is  too  much ,  sometimes .  but  he  also  knows  that  horatio  feels  the  same ,  though  he  might  not  say  it  in  quite  so  many  words .  (  few  people  speak  with  as  many  words  as  hamlet .  )  but  he  doesn't  say  these  things  to  hear  niceties  in  return .  he  says  them  because  his  feelings  well  up  inside  him ,  because  he  has  to .  because  he  needs  horatio  to  know .

     he  turns  sideways  in  his  chair ,  draping  one  leg  over  his  armrest  and  allowing  one  arm  to  relax  on  the  back .  his  face ,  too ,  is  soft .  ❝  i  am  that ,  horatio .  ❞    so  much  of  him  belongs  to  so  many  others  ---  to  denmark ,  to  the  crown ,  to  his  family .  but  they  don't  have  him  this  way ;  they  could  never  have  him  the  way  horatio  does .  

     his  head  tilts  to  the  side  as  he  stares  up ,  a  sly  smile  slowly  overtaking  his  face .  ❝  and  since  you  are  my  protector ,  and  my  best  friend . . .  i  haven’t  studied  for  the  exam  tomorrow .  ❞    he  could  have  (  should  have  )  started  studying  days  ago ,  but ,  well .  that  would  take  a  bit  of  the  fun  out  of  tormenting  horatio ,  wouldn't  it ?

[aperihellion]

hamlet uses a wheelchair.

[aperihellion]

@wingpyre said: ❝ don't say we have come now to the end. ❞

     this  is  the  most  painful  of  all .  more  painful  than  the  wound  in  his  flesh ,  than  the  poison  coursing  through  his  veins ,  than  returning  to  find  his  ophelia  dead .  (  and  as  much  as  the  last  stings  more  than  any  arrow ,  at  least  he  will  soon  be  reunited  with  her .  )  (  the  idea  of  lying  in  the  ground  forevermore  is  comforting  to  him ,  has  always  been  comforting  to  him .  )  (  a  tragedy ,  that  horatio  gets  no  such  comfort .  )  but  no ,  seeing  horatio's  face  contorted  in  agony ,  in  sorrow ,  as  it  swims  in  and  out  of  focus  amidst  his  tears ,  amidst  hamlet's  tears ,  amidst  the  years  of  things  said  and  unsaid .  

     hamlet  reaches  his  hand  out ,  laces  his  fingers  with  horatio's .  pulls  their  entwined  hands  up  to  his  face ,  gently  pressing  his  lips  against  horatio's  knuckles .  lets  out  a  shaky  breath  (  shaky  with  emotion ,  shaky  with  the  weakness  that  comes  with  the  poison  that  slew  him  )  as  another  tear  slides  down  his  face .  and  he  almost  can't  bear  to  look .  almost  can't  bear  to  see  the  pain  the  actions  of  tonight  (  the  actions  that  were  a  mere  stop  along  the  course  his  life  has  been  careening  toward  wildly  ever  since  his  uncle  murdered  his  father  )  (  although ,  more  final  than  mere ,  as  far  as  stops  go  )  have  caused  his  oldest  friend .  his  dearest  friend .  the  man  his  soul  chose ,  who  knows  him  better  than  any  other ,  whom  he  knows  better  than  he  knows  himself .  (  whether  they  were  destined  to  be  together  or  brought  together  by  choice ,  horatio's  presence  in  hamlet's  life  has  changed  him  irrevocably .  )

     he  wants  to  look  away ,  thinks  it  might  be  easier  that  way .  but  he  can't .  if  he  is  to  die ,  he  will  die  with  horatio  in  his  sights .  

     horatio  may ,  in  some  ways ,  be  his  lesser ,  that's  true .  but  in  all  other  ways ,  in  the  ways  that  count ,  horatio  is ,  and  always  has  been ,  his  better .  and  now  he  must  live  on .  and  oh ,  does  hamlet  understand  better  than  perhaps  anyone  else  the  draw  that  the  sweet  release  has ,  but  he  can't  allow  horatio  that  sweetness .  horatio  has  things  he  needs  to  do ;  needs  to  survive .  (  and  maybe  he'll  even  live ;  maybe  he'll  find  moments  of  happiness ,  fleeting  or  otherwise .  hamlet  truly  hopes ,  for  his  sake ,  that  he  does .  )  (  if  there's  any  man  alive  who  deserves  true  happiness ,  it's  horatio .  )

     ❝  i'm  sorry ,  dear  friend .  ❞    his  words  feel  as  hollow  and  raspy  as  his  chest ,  as  his  heart .  ❝  i'm  afraid  that  i  must ,  that  we  have .  ❞    another  kiss  pressed  against  beloved  knuckles ,  a  silent  prayer ,  a  wish  for  horatio  to  find  happiness  again .  (  to  find  love  again .  )  fingers  squeeze  once  more ,  here  at  the  end  of  things .  ❝  never  forget ,  horatio ,  that  you  are  the  model  from  which  all  men  should  be  cast ,  that  there  exists  not  a  single  man  who  is  your  better .  ❞    his  voice  softens ;  he's  at  the  end  of  his  breath ,  now .  ❝  never  forget ,  dearest  horatio ,  that  i  love  you .  ❞

[wingpyre]

@aperihellion​​ asked: ❛ I hope you live the life you want to. ❜ hamlet @ horatio :)

【 prompt. acc. 】

     it  feels  like  something  is  lodged  in  his  throat,   and  no  matter  how  hard  he  may  try  he  can’t  swallow  it  down  nor  spit  it  out.  the  tears  that  sting  at  his  eyes  are  crystallized,   sorrow,   longing,   for  something  he  wanted  but  now  he  knows  he  will  never  have.   ❝  easy,   my  dear  lord,   i  pray  you  save  your  strength. ❞

     it’s  too  late,   he  knows  it,   but  oh  how  he  wishes  he  would  survive  this.   they’ve  been  through  so  much.   HAMLET  has  been  through  so  much.   he  deserves  peace  and  rest  but  not  like  THIS.   not  a  permanent  thing.   not  a  thing  that  steals  him  from  horatio  so  suddenly  and  sullenly.

     he  was  going  to  leave  it  at  that,   but  he  can’t ,  he  can’t.  of  course  he  can’t.   ❝  it  won’t  be  much  a  life  without  you,   i’m  afraid.  ❞   he  only  stayed  in  college  because  of  hamlet’s  encouragement.   he  WANTED  a  life  with  hamlet,   ever  present  at  his  side,   laughing  of  some  poor  fellow’s  foolishness  behind  his  back.   my  soul  chose  yours,   hamlet  had  once  said  to  him.

     he  never  got  the  opportunity  to  say  his  did  too.

     ❝  do  you  remember  when  you  said  i  am  perfectly  balanced  in  my  logic  and  passion?  ❞   he  lets  out  a  choked  laugh  that  boarders  more  on  a  sob  as  he  takes  hamlet’s  rapidly  cooling  hand  in  his  own,   holding  it  up  to  his  cheek,   ❝  i’m  afraid  my  logic  is  failing  me  right  now  because  this  is  all  so  senseless  and  i  keep  finding  myself  not  being  able  to  think  of  a  life  without  you.  ❞

     ❝  don’t  go…  ❞   he  whispers,   voice  breaking  and  cracking  like  the  heart  in  his  chest  with  each  word,   ❝  i  need  you.  ❞

[aperihellion]

home | wingpyre‌:

      without  question  he  shifts  their  positions  carefully,  letting  go  of  hiei’s  hand  temporarily  to  wrap  his  arms  around  him.  it’s  a  little  awkward  but  it’s  the  best  he  can  do  given  their  current  positions.  it  must  be  BAD.  truthfully,  he’s  never  seen  hiei  like  this.  sure,  he’s  seen  him  vulnerable  and  somewhat  open.  but  not  like  this.  not  crying.  never  crying.  kurama’s  heart  hurts  for  him  in  ways  he  didn’t  even  know  possible.

     he  secures  his  hold  on  hiei  and  runs  a  hand  through  his  hair,  the  other  rubbing  his  back.  he  hopes  this  will  be  enough  for  now.  it’s  all  he  knows  to  do  at  the  given  moment.  he  wants  to  help  him,  RIGHT  NOW,  but  he  knows  that’s  not  how  it  works.  he  knows  that  THIS  right  now  will  help  him  in  ways  words  cannot.

     if  hiei  wants  him  to  hold  him,  he  will.  if  hiei  wants  him  to  listen,  he  will.  if  hiei  wants  him  to  leave  him  alone,  he  will.  he  would  do  anything  for  him.   (  trusts  him  enough  to  know  that  he  will  never  cross  a  line  with  him.  knows  hiei  trusts  HIM  enough  to  even  ALLOW  this.  )   he’s  always  kept  people  at  arm’s  length  when  he  was  youko,  other  people  were  always  a  liability,  and  it  was  always  his  choice  to  cut  them  off.

     hiei  rarely  got  that  choice.  ripped  away  from  a  family,  tossed  to  the  side,  forgotten,  scorned.  he  can  understand  to  an  EXTENT,  but  never  FULLY.  it  must  get  to  him,  after  so  long.  and  THIS  is  a  byproduct  of  that.   (  he  worries  not  about  the  black  pearls  falling  from  hiei’s  eyes,  worries  only  of  hiei’s  sobs  and  how  tightly  he  clutches  kurama’s  shirt.  )

     if  kurama's  hand  was  shelter  from  a  storm ,  his  arms  wrapped  around  hiei  are  a  home .  (  his  home .  )  (  or ,  so  he'd  imagine  this  is  what  home  feels  like .  he's  never  really  had  a  home  before  this .  )  (  he  thinks  he  likes  it .  )  hiei's  forehead  presses  into  kurama's  collarbone ;  knuckles  go  pale  with  how  tightly  they're  grasping  the  front  of  the  fox’s  shirt .  it  had  been  a  bad  one .  a  really ,  really  bad  one .

     but  kurama's  presence  helps .  (  always ,  always ,  always .  )  he  doesn't  know  how  long  they  been  sit  there ,  hiei  nearly  curled  up  on  kurama's  lap ,  sobbing .  the  sounds  of  his  tears  falling  onto  the  floor  grow  further  and  further  apart  until  he's  finally  quiet .  until  his  sobs  have  finally  died  down .

     hiei  takes  a  deep ,  shuddering  breath ,  and  straightens  his  spine .  it  takes  him  a  moment  to  look  up ,  to  meet  kurama's  eyes  after  that  ---

     but  kurama's  still  there .  kurama's  seen  the  worst  of  him  ---  the  anger ,  the  irritation ,  the  hatred ,  the  stupidity ,  and  now  the  weakness  ---  and  he's  still  here .  (  it  seems  incredible ,  but  at  the  same  time ,  it  seems  natural .  )  (  of  COURSE  kurama's  still  here .  why  wouldn't  he  be ?  )  (  hiei  may  be  hard  to  love ,  but  he's  never  known  a  fox  to  give  up  easily ,  least  of  all  this  fox .  )

     his  words  are  quiet ,  meant  to  be  yet  another  secret  he  trusts  kurama  with .  ❝  it  was  a . . .  memory .  ❞    the  a  bad  one  is  implied ,  not  something  he  feels  the  need  to  clarify .  ❝  i . . .  hn .  ❞    a  moment  of  silence ,  of  trying  to  grasp  the  words  in  his  chest  and  force  them  into  the  open .  ❝  i  appreciate  you . . .  holding  me .  ❞    he  also  appreciates  that  kurama ,  legendary  master  thief ,  has  utterly  ignored  the  gems  falling  to  his  floor ,  he  just  doesn’t  know  how  to  thank  someone  twice .

[wingpyre]

     he  had  STARS  in  his  eyes.   beautiful  and  brilliant,   burning  and  freezing  and  EXPLODING  in  on  itself  all  at  once.   at  the  best  of  times  they're  the  stars  in  the  night  sky,   TWINKLING  and  playful.   at  the  worst,   a  dying  star  becoming  an  ABYSMAL  black  hole  sucking  all  light.   in  his  hands  held  so  preciously  like  a  GLASS  figurine,   TIME  itself.

est. 02.25.18 indie. private. selective.

[wingpyre]

[wingpyre]

[aperihellion]

the passenger’s the best view || skystray‌:

     aziraphale  nods,  finally  looking  away  and  that  smile  becomes  more  subdued  as  he  recalls  where  exactly  it’s  at.  it’s  not  that  he  often  goes  there,  not  really  any  reason  to  at  least.  not  without  crowley.   (  he  finds  he’s  hardly  doing  things  for  himself  without  crowley  often.  )   he  pats  his  legs,  stopping  the  poor  rhythm  he  was  tapping  out  and  raises  a  hand  to  point  ahead  of  them.   ❝  make  a  turn  coming  up  here  to  the  right.  then  just  follow  the  road  until  you  see  an  opening  on  the  side  of  the  road.  park  there  and  we’ll  have  to  walk  the  rest  of  the  way.  ❞

     he’s  been  putting  off  the  treacherous  thoughts  of  well…  those  feelings  he  holds  for  crowley  for…  oh…  how  long?  since  the  blitz,  at  the  least.  and  it’s  not  that  he  doesn’t  WANT  them.  it’s  more  that  he’s…  CONFUSED  and  IGNORING  them.  he’s  still  yet  to  really  SORT  them  out.  it’s  not  like  crowley  would  EVER  feel  the  same  for  him  in  all  his  “self  righteous,  holier-than-thou  glory”   (  as  he’s  put  it  once  or  twice.  )   no,  no  not  ever.  and  he  notices  not  the  way  crowley  looks  everywhere  but  at  him  when  he’s  smiling.  he  notices  not  the  way  crowley  pays  closer  attention  to  him  when  he’s  uncomfortable.  he  notices  not  the  small  ways  that  crowley  shows  his  affections.  not  even  in  the  big,  right  in  your  face  might  as  well  just  say  it  ways.   (  he’s  a  bit  dense.  well…  more  than  a  bit  really.  )   to  say  that  he  wasn’t  a  little  excited  about  tonight’s  jaunt  would  be  an  outright  lie.  it’s  been  a  WHILE  since  they’ve  done  this,  really.  they’ve  been  so  busy  being  godfathers  they  hadn’t  really  much  time  to  themselves,  so  it’s  a  nice  change  of  pace  he  things.  and  it  doesn’t  really  matter  that  the  world  might  end  a  few  years  from  now,  because  right  now,  in  this  moment,  the  world  is  just  the  two  of  them  in  an  old  bentley  driving  down  a  back  road  in  the  middle  of  the  night,  talking  about  looking  up  at  the  stars  they  already  know  so  much  about.  there’s  something  so  tenderly…  HUMAN  about  looking  up  into  the  infinite  universe  and  the  ever  bright  stars  that  never  change.  he’s  sure  that  crowley  will  point  out  a  few  he’s  helped  make.  and  aziraphale  will  nod  and  smile  all  the  while  looking  at  crowley.  that’s  how  he  thinks  it  will  happen,  at  least.

     crowley  would ,  historically  speaking ,  do  anything  for  aziraphale .  and  that  includes  keeping  his  feelings  hidden  behind  twelve  layers  of  irony  and  sarcasm .  keeping  his  sunglasses  on  even  when  they're  alone ,  so  the  angel  doesn't  have  to  see  his  feelings .  he's  grateful ,  really ,  that  aziraphale  continues  spending  time  with  him ,  his  feelings  considered .  angels  can  feel  love ,  and  that  means  there's  no  conceivable  way  that  he's  unaware  of  the  demon's  feelings .  (  from  damn  near  the  beginning  of  things .  )  (  crowley  has  a  lot  of  experience  with  falling ,  in  every  sense  of  the  word .  )  he  understands ,  too ,  that  aziraphale  loves  him ,  the  way  angels  are  obligated  to  love  all  things .  and  aziraphale  is  full  of  so  much  love  that  it's  okay  it's  not  the  same  kind  of  love .  really ,  it  is .  it  hurts ,  but  crowley  would  rather  have  him  like  this  than  not  have  him  at  all .  (  he's  not  doing  this  whole  covetousness  thing  right ,  he  thinks .  )  (  he's  never  felt  the  possessiveness  over  aziraphale  that  he's  probably  supposed  to .  or ,  well ,  not  supposed  to ?  whichever .  )  aziraphale  is ,  above  all  else ,  good .  and  there's  a  part  of  crowley  (  a  very ,  very  small  part  )  that  wants  to  take  him  and  make  him  no  longer  good .  wonders  if  the  feelings  he's  been  harboring  would  be  easier  to  manage  if  he  were  bad .  but  he  thinks  that  probably  aziraphale's  goodness  is  part  of  the  draw .  that ,  like  a  moth ,  crowley  is  drawn  to  his  light .  

     he  makes  a  somewhat  distracted  noise  of  affirmation ,  and  takes  the  correct  turn .  he's  not  nervous  or  anything  ---  doesn't  really  get  nervous .  but  all  the  same ,  there's  a  kind  of  tension  in  the  air .  it's  not  a  date .  crowley  won't  let  himself  see  it  like  that ,  especially  since  "date"  implies  both  parties  want  it  to  be  that .  and  he  may  be  a  bastard ,  but  he'd  never  force  something  like  that .  no ,  his  bastardous  ways  are  more  along  the  lines  of  inventing  things  that  darken  souls  just  a  bit .  his  bastardous  ways  are  petty .  and  he  cares  about  aziraphale  too  much  to  read  anything  into  this .  wants  him  in  his  life  in  any  capacity ;  will  take  his  affection  any  way  he  can  get  it .  if  their  plan  works  and  he  spends  the  next  six  millenia  as  aziraphale's  friend  and  nothing  more ,  it's  still  worth  it .  (  and  if  it  fails ,  well .  they  won't  likely  be  around  to  know  the  difference ,  will  they ?  )  he's  luckier  than  any  demon  has  ever  been ,  and  he's  not  going  to  allow  himself  to  ruin  this  by  making  assumptions .  (  besides ,  he  already  knows  that's  not  the  case .  he's  been  pining  longer  than  some  languages  have  existed .  if  aziraphale  had  feelings  even  remotely  approaching  his  own ,  he  would  have  said  so  by  now .  )  

     crowley  pulls  off  the  road  and  puts  his  car  in  park .  he  sits  there  for  a  moment ,  letting  the  song  finish ,  before  turning  it  off  and  looking  over  at  the  angel  in  his  passenger  seat .  ❝  well ,  angel ,  here  we  are .  ❞    an  eyebrow  raises ,  and  he's  slipped  back  into  his  comfortable  sarcasm .  ❝  shall  i  open  your  door  for  you ,  or  d'you  think  that's  something  you  can  manage ?  ❞    on  earth ,  they  say  that  sarcasm  is  a  defense  mechanism ,  and  they're  right .  that's  why  crowley  invented  it .

[aperihellion]

“ i can’t tell if there’s something wrong or normal with me ” / zira @ crowley

     the  wine  glass  in  his  hand  pauses  in  its  trek  to  his  lips ,  and  crowley  looks  over  to  the  angel .  (  not  his  angel ,  no .  regardless  of  how  much  he  sometimes  wishes .  )  it's  unusual  for  aziraphale  to  be  this . . .  maudlin ,  even  considering  the  wine  they're  drinking .  generally  when  their  nightcap  turns  to  a  night  of ,  well ,  just  drinking ,  their  conversations  range  from  the  absurd  to  the  theological .  (  he  hates  when  they  discuss  the  latter ,  if  he's  honest  ---  it's  not  that  he  hates  god ,  not  really ;  he's  just  bitter .  )  he  sniffs ,  then  finishes  taking  his  sip .  ❝  i  don't  see  why  those  are  the  only  two  options ,  angel .  ❞    though  his  words  are  incredibly  blase ,  he  supposes  he  understands  aziraphale's  concern .  

     before  crowley's  fall ,  he  hadn't  really  liked  many  of  the  other  angels  to  begin  with .  never  really  fit  in .  asked  too  many  questions ,  didn't  have  a  stick  up  his  ass .  aziraphale  doesn't  quite  fit  in ,  either ,  crowley  thinks .  if  he  did ,  he  wouldn't  have  agreed  to  the  arrangement .  wouldn't  have  given  him  the  time  of  day ,  regardless  of  how  many  centuries  they'd  spent  dancing  around  each  other .  (  not  that  angels  dance .  )  (  if  aziraphale  did  fit  in ,  he  wouldn't  have  given  humanity  his  sword ,  crowley  thinks .  he's  been  different  as  long  as  they've  known  each  other .  )  

     he  doesn't  care  for  aziraphale  thinking  his  differences  could  possibly  be  wrong ,  but  he  gets  it .  he  understands .  that  palpable  fear ,  especially  since  he's  taken  to  spending  time . . .  fraternizing  with  the  enemy .  so  crowley  doesn't  have  anything  to  say  that  could  possibly  help .  nothing  other  than  assuring  him  that  his  not  fitting  in  upstairs  means  he  fits  in  just  fine  on  earth .  (  fits  in  just  fine  with  crowley .  )  

     but  he  doesn't  think  that  would  make  his  the  angel  feel  better ,  so  he  simply  refills  the  other's  wine  glass ,  and  raises  his  own  up  as  if  to  cheers  him .

     to  being  wrong .

[aperihellion]

when he hits u w that good reply

[wingpyre]

“ i wanted you to stay ” // crowley @ zira

【 prompt. acc. @aperihellion 】

     the  “with  me”  goes  unsaid  and  aziraphale  sighs,  averting  his  eyes.   ❝  i  know,  ❞   he  starts  slowly  so,  hands  clutching  at  the  fabric  of  his  pants  unconsciously.  they  haven’t  really…  SPOKEN  of  what  happened  those  few  precious  hours  before  the  apocalypse-that-never-was.  he’s  not  one  for  confrontation,  hates  it  really,  would  avoid  it  all  together  unnecessary.  but  they’ve  been  needing  to  talk  about  it.  “it”  being  the…  rather  disastrous  MESS  in  the  gazebo  and  everything  else.  for  them,  they  are  ancient  beings,  one  day  or  two  days  hardly  mean  a  thing  to  them.

     but  that…

     he  sighs  again,  looking  now  to  crowley  and  forcing  himself  to  let  go  of  his  pants,   ❝  i  know  you  did…  i  wanted  to.  but  i…  i  thought—  i  thought  that  if  i  could  just  STOP  it  from  happening  then  we…  then  we  wouldn’t  have  to  run  off.  that  i  wouldn’t  end  up  going  against  heaven.  but  look  where  that’s  gotten  me,  anyways…  i  just…  i  thought  that  we  wouldn’t  have  to…  LEAVE  all  of  this.  ❞   of  course,  they  can  have  each  other  in  the  end  of  all  things,  just  THEM,  but  even  in  their  duality  they  would  still  be  alone.

     no  more  bookshops  with  cooling  cocoa,  no  more  flats  with  verdant  plants,  no  more  clandestine  meetings  at  parks,  and  no  more  dinners  at  the  ritz.  just  them,  trying  to  avoid  an  all  out  war  after  the  destruction  of  humankind.   ❝  even  if  we  went  off  together  they  would’ve  found  either  way.  you  would’ve  been  in  trouble.  you  would’ve  been—!  i  didn’t  want  to  LOSE  you,  crowley.  ❞

[aperihellion]

“ i am ready to go home ” / zira @ crowley

     he  understands ,  he  does .  it's  not  that  aziraphale  can't  keep  up  with  him ,  it's  just  that . . .  well .  the  angel  tends  to  prefer  a  slower  pace .  and  that's  something  crowley  has  learned  to  be  okay  with .  (  after  six  thousand  years ,  he  should  hope  he  is .  )  honestly ,  he's  just  glad  that  aziraphale  agreed  to  come  out  with  him  at  all .  so  he  doesn't  mind  that  it's  time  to  leave  the  bar  ---  he  only  really  wanted  to  come  out  for  the  music  and  dancing  anyway ,  and  with  the  only  partner  he's  actually  got  any  interest  in  ready  to  leave . . .  well ,  there's  hardly  any  reason  to  stay ,  now ,  is  there ?  

     so .  he  takes  the  angel's  hand  in  his  (  he's  used  to  it ,  by  now ;  used  to  the  heat  that  threatens  to  burn  him  whenever  they  touch  )  (  it's  lesser ,  now ,  than  it  was  in  the  beginning  ---  though  always ,  always  it's  been  worth  it  )  and  brings  it  up  to  his  lips ,  gently  pressing  a  kiss  against  the  back  of  aziraphale's  hand  as  he  murmurs ,  ❝  alright ,  then .  come  on ,  angel .  let's  go  home .  ❞    plants  and  books  and  cocoa  await  their  return  to  the  cottage  they  share .  crowley  never  would  have  pegged  himself  as  the  type  to  feel  at  home  somewhere  like  it ,  but  he's  come  to  realize  that  home  isn't  a  building ,  or  a  place  of  residence ,  or  anything  of  the  sort .

     no ,  AZIRAPHALE  is  his  home .  (  and  maybe  always  has  been .  )

[phantomemes]

collection of prompts  /  starter sentences  /  what have you taken from private  /  unpublished works of poetry written by the blog moderator .  feel free to change things  (  such as pronouns  )  as needed !

“ i finally recognize my own reflection ” “ these clothes cling to my body like cobwebs ” “ you left your body somewhere far behind ” “ you know it works every time  ,  half the time  ,  when you get lucky ” “ get the hell away from me ” “ the taste is regret ” “ you never learned to say you’re hurting without forcing someone to hurt with you ” “ you have the audacity to act surprised when your bridges burn ” “ you’re too old to still need a nightlight ” “ still scared of the dark ? ” “ you know them  ,  or you don’t ” “ it doesn’t matter because they’re dead ” “ you’ll join them one way or another ” “ here’s how to relax your muscles ” “ i don’t bother telling anyone the results anymore ” “ they don’t bother asking ” “ i think someone switched the contents ” “ you spend so much time considering what it must be like to be someone else that you forgot to consider what it must be like to be someone at all ” “ i don’t know what to say ” “ you are either a fool or a genius or maybe both ” “ for once i feel like maybe i’m not letting anybody down ” “ he doesn’t believe you ” “ i can’t tell if there’s something wrong or normal with me ” “ the empty container of cup noodles digging into my side is almost pleasant ” “ let them take your place ” “ you are not a king nor were you ever one ” “ i am ready to go home ” “ your mother wept the first time she held you in her arms ” “ you are a miracle ” “ you are something damned ” “ there are not enough apologies in this world to make up for your closed casket funeral ” “ gods will always know the difference ” “ i want to ask my father if he was afraid ” “ maybe never getting to say goodbye is the closest you’re allowed to get to a blessing ” “ the gods will never know the sound of my forgiveness ” “ i just woke up here one morning ” “ i don’t know how to tell you i don’t know where she is ” “ there’s someone here who misses her ” “ i should just be able to bottle up my pain ” “ i feel as though i’m just here to disappoint ” “ if you look closely you can see the snakes shifting beneath the dirt ”

[princesshamlet-deactivated20210]

Don’t go unscrewing the lid.

[thingsinspaaace]

I’m sorry. I’m sorry but the restrained fearful longing in Az transposed against the sharp, guarded desire in Crowley is going to be the death of me. This moment encapsulates so much of their dynamic, where Az was like “Maybe someday we can go on a casual date and ignore that it’s a date” and Crowley is like “Not to be dramatic but I will go however far however fast its up to you but also you should come home with me tonight, move in with me, and/or run away with me to another galaxy where we’ll be together forever” And poor Az is like “blease I just realized I’m in love with you I need another 1000 years to process this”

[anaid-queen]

y o u   p u t   i n   w o r d s 

[aperihellion]

❝ i believe the past tense is "smitten" not "smited" so it would by "i'm smitten by you". ❞

     his  feet  are  kicked  up  onto  the  table  between  them  and  one  arm  is  thrown  over  the  back  of  the  sofa  he's  lounging  on ,  nearly  empty  wine  bottle  in  his  other  hand .  (  he's  lucky  it's  the  whole  bottle  and  not  a  glass ,  because  surely  it  would  have  spilled  by  now ,  given  his  rather  dramatic  gestures .  )  he  does  one  of  these  gestures  now ,  sloshing  the  wine  inside  the  bottle  as  he  points  it  at  aziraphale .  ❝  don't  take  that  tone  with  me ,  angel  ---  i  know  what  i  meant  and  i  meant  smitten .  ❞    wait ,  no .  ❝  no ,  wait  ---  i  meant  smited .  you're  smited .  i'm  smited .    ❞    he  takes  another  swig  of  the  now  suspiciously  fuller  bottle .  ❝  we're  ALL  SMITTEN .  ❞    the  last  words  are  laugh-yelled ,  which  sounds  like  it  should  be  contradictory  but  really  isn't  at  all .  ❝  i'm  smited  by  the  smittenness .    ❞    okay ,  those  aren't  even  words  anymore ,  are  they ?  they  don't  sound  like  it  ---  repeating  things  over  and  over  has  a  tendency  to  do  that .