#ajastor

        while she’s thoroughly enchanted by his kingdom, it doesn’t take long at all before allie starts to wonder where the king has gone. long at all being a kiss for each zane and harley, a hug for caitlin, a drink that’s super sweet for something that makes the feeling in her fingertips fade to a lovely buzzy numbness for all of five seconds. it’s enough to get her started, and she starts to wander.

        there’s nothing steady to rely on, here, but that idea is hypnotic, too. it only means that looking for aj becomes just looking for anyone, a little lost as it occurs to her that she had no idea how she would seek him out, even if she knew how. everything here feels like him, but it means he’s here, all the same.

         his voice is the clue that leads her to him. in between greeting one person and the next, she approaches him from behind. guess who? really, she doesn’t mean to sneak up on him, and it’s not as if she’s tried very hard. light and airy on her feet, sure, but the gentle lean of her chin resting on his shoulder isn’t meant to be a surprise as she sneaks an arm out around him, holding the bouquet of black and gold out in front of them. some of the flowers showed off the natural black hue of their petals, but most had been flora she’d picked out with aj in mind, dyed black or painted the metallic shade of gold. not any ordinary paint, of course. allie’s personal favorite is the few strands of bleeding hearts she’d arranged in with the others, the hearts themselves black, while the gold peeked out through the bottoms.  “ better than the cactus? ”

She shouldn’t be doing this.

Irene knew it the moment her eyes landed on him —tall, distracted, dressed like someone who knew exactly how to blend wealth and wariness into a single silhouette. He was alone for once, momentarily untethered from the others. And on his wrist.. that chain. Simple, unassuming at first glance. But it hummed when she focused on it. Not loudly, not like most magical objects —but quiet, restrained, the kind of containment spell you only crafted when you were trying to dull something dangerous. Something loud.

The kind of thing she could use.

The gala was still reeling. Whispers churned like rot beneath the velvet of everyone’s carefully stitched smiles. People were upset —some horrified, others fascinated. The body on the balcony had turned the night from opulence to omen. Fia Palmgren. Carved like scripture. Eyes in blood and on walls and in people’s throats now, if you listened hard enough.

It made her job easier.

Eyes drifted elsewhere. And she needed them to stay that way.

The spell slid into place with a careful breath. A shimmer, not of skin or color, but of memory —her magic borrowing the edge of a face she didn’t recognize, but maybe he might. The woman she chose was slightly older, brunette, with the kind of face that blended familiarity and blur. Pretty enough to stick. Vague enough not to anchor.

Mirrormind always left her ribs tight, like something had been borrowed from inside her to make room for the illusion. But she bore it. Because this had to work. She moved through the crowd with purpose stitched beneath each step, glass in hand, eyes soft and unfocused the way people trusted. And then—

“Shit—”

It was subtle, intentional. A pivot into his path. A quick jostle of her elbow. Her drink tipped —just enough. A splash of cool liquid dotted his jacket sleeve and a few stray drops kissed the front of his shirt.

“Oh my god, I’m—” Her voice came light, embarrassed. Not Irene’s voice, not really. Just soft enough, breathy enough to blend in. “I’m so sorry, that was —was that expensive?”

She reached out instinctively —no hesitation, no fear. A napkin materialized from somewhere in her sleeve, and she patted his shoulder with the kind of concern that invited forgiveness. One hand dabbed at the fabric. The other…

The other grazed the wrist. Light. Casual.

Just enough to test the clasp. Just enough to feel the pulse of magic beneath it. Her own spell flared in warning at the contact —like calls to like. Oh, yes. This would work. This would help. The chain’s enchantment wrapped around something quiet and clever, and she needed that more than anything right now. More than pride. More than rules.

She smiled. Not too wide. Not too memorable.

“Let me get you a new drink,” she said gently, stepping half-back. “It’s the least I can do.”

He was well connected. That's what she kept telling herself when she arranged to meet up with him again. It was stupid, especially given her extremely short fuse recently. Everything was turning up a dead end - no pun intended - and she wanted to know where her fucking brother was. So she went to the address he text her, some club that she didn't care to learn much about before she went in. He was easy to spot, standing out without doing much of anything other than commanding the entire room just by sitting there. "Gotta ask you something before we vibe, Astor. You heard anything about someone called Reid? Or any whisperings about a woman named Nisha?"

TRICK: While you're in the moment, You knock over a pack of werewolf line dancers, oh, boy they're angry, better run!

        really, she’d only come to the rave tonight with only the best intentions. and most of that was to dance, and fill her head with cotton candy, and admire all of the lovely costumes on strangers. and, of course, there’s always the supernatural nature of port leiry’s nightlife that she’s always eager to explore. this time, she’d stumbled a bit too close to it- literally, knocking into a crowd of dancers while she had been absorbed in her own world. her usual sunshine smile and apologies do nothing to mend the tear she’d created, this time. allie catches the familiar wild hint of evergreen in the air, but it sharply turns volatile, and she knows better than to try and fix the now angry wolves. she gives one last, shrill, and mostly cheerful sorry! before she turns on her heels and runs.

action prompts: first times, accepting!  ˎˊ˗

@ajastor

        the morning sun kisses her awake, the light tickling the length of her lashes in bright streams until they open. even the scent of having aj so close to her is laced with magic. blue eyes flutter, sleep clouding them as she recognizes that she’s woken up in his hotel room, again. that, and the feeling of his sheets against her bare skin is what tells her where she is, everything else bathed in a golden light that makes the details fuzzy, and dream-like. allie doesn’t even think she minds if it is a dream, as long as she gets to keep it for a little while longer.

        the rest of her daydream finds her in small pieces. the rosy apple of her cheek is pressed to the edge of his bicep, meaning she’d fallen asleep like that, or melted closer to the warmth he kept buried deep while she slept. either way, it means aj hadn’t shoved her completely away, and she’s grateful for it. she recognizes the blue glow casted over his face, first, and his stolen attention, before she actually sees his phone. it’s no matter to her, the focus of his features -despite it being so clearly tainted by a frustration allie doesn’t know how to handle without certain distractions -is fascinating, and he’s beautiful. she’s content to just lay there and watch him, shifting to her stomach, her chin cradled in the supporting palms of her hands. aj’s typing something now, furiously, with a crease between his brow. the other witch makes a noise that sounds awfully like a grumble, and his phone chimes twice more before he pays her any attention. allie perks up as his eyes land on her, returning from the distraction that tracing over the curve of his lips with her own gaze had been. his eyes, while golden, were piercing, leaving allie to fight a squirm under them before he … 

        the emotion that flickered through his face was too quick to catch, and it all faded together to one grumpiness. but aj shifted. only a feather amount, but his palm turned from facing down on his chest to being open, a few inches away from him. her mind, still sleep muddled and dizzy in the way that she always gets around him, doesn’t know what to make of it. her heart is a different story, jumping at the opportunity to get closer to him and takes the gesture as an invitation. allie beams, and she immediately crawls closer, tucking next to him so her head lay on his chest, ear pressed to hear his heart. even still, she’s facing away from him, and content. it’s sort of like floating, except she’s pressed to something physical that’s supposed to keep her grounded. aj’s touch doesn’t find her in return, not like allie, who’s fingers have already begun to trace over the details of his skin, absently. once, she feels the slight pressure and weight of a phone against the back of her head, and it makes her giggle. another time, he finds a leftover piece of glitter among her hair that waterfalls over the both of them, and sweeps it away with a stroke of his hand. like everything, it’s enough to momentarily satiate her hunger for affection.

send for a text meme, always accepting bc it's easy free and fun!  ˎˊ˗

Send “⁇” for a DRUNK text.

( txt 一 aj!!! 💛 )   okay i lieddddd im not asleep yet BUt

( txt 一 aj!!! 💛 )   look look look

( txt 一 aj!!! 💛 )   do you see the vision

( txt 一 aj!!! 💛 )   anyways i think frankie would think its cute