god darling

Your senior year roommate calls herself Clarity. She’s very small and rumpled and distant, and she goes for long walks in the forest south of campus when she’s frustrated. You aren’t friends, but you coexist peacefully. It’s enough.

The creature on your co-owned Walmart futon isn’t Clarity.

It looks like her. Enough to fool a casual observer, certainly. Enough to fool someone who hasn’t been soldering sterling silver for six hours. But you have, and the truth of silver lingers, and the Thing That Looks Like Clarity is sprouting delicate flowers from the skin of its bare shoulders.

It’s sitting cross-legged and perfectly, terribly still, tracking your eyes as you take all this in. When you sigh and set down your backpack, it says, “Hello, smith. There didn’t seem to be any sense in pretending.”

“Jeweler,” you say, and, “I go by Florence, these days. What should I call you?”

It blinks, languid and slow. “I’m not here to usurp. I’m a… placeholder.”

“It’s still confusing as shit, my guy.”

It considers this at length. Finally, with the air of one who has just solved a great puzzle, it says “Claire. We will know, the two of us.”

“Works for me. Nice meeting you, Claire.”

And that seems to be all there is to say. Your roommate’s been stolen by the Fair Folk, you’re living with a changeling, and there’s not much you can do about either of these things. You scroll through Instagram until it gets tired of watching you and wanders out into the hallway.

So that’s Claire.

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i took a screencap of this healing moment cause i lov the wonderland gorls treating darling like a fellow wonderland gorl and playing CARDS that’s so cute but i’ve just noticed the poker chips on the floor?? holy shit lizzie maddie and darling are canonically leading an underground gambling ring at ever after high

Darling dearest, did you want to learn?
You ached for something bigger,
Something greater,
Something that would make you more than just a simple girl.

Darling dearest, did he charm you too?
He’s bright and alluring and his eyes hold the weights of the world.
He’s burning.
He makes you feel like you’re dying.
Just seeing him hurts.
But he makes you feel alive, and that’s enough to quiet the warnings being whispered to your heart.

Darling dearest, did you feel trapped?
First it was a room, and then they added bars.
  It called to you, didn’t it?
The feel of the wind stroking your face,
Tangling your hair,
Feeding each beat of your heart.
That was freedom, and you thirsted for it.

Darling dearest, did you want wings?
Long thin feathers dipped in wax,
then dug into the blades of your shoulders.
You didn’t mind the scars,
Or the burns.
It was a drug;
the sight of the sky,
The feel of his mouth,
The lingering of his fingertips.
But darling dearest, did you know you’re only human?
And humans can’t love gods.

Darling dearest, you wanted to fly, but did you want to fall?
—  Female Icarus for @golden-stitches // L.H.Z