#might start writing soon

[hornydilfsinyourarea]

guys, I watched a horror movie because I was bored and saw Men (2022), and thought it looked interesting...WHY THE FUCK DID i WITNESS 4 BIRTHS BACK TO BACK, HOW DID THE MAN SUDDENLY GET A VAGINA, A MAN BABY CRAWLING OUT, THEN GIVING BIRTH THROUGH HIS FUCKING BELLY BUTTON... AND THEN THE MAN WHO CAME OUT GAVE FUCKING BIRTH THROUGH HIS BACK, A VAGINA SUDDENLY THERE TOO AND THEN THE MAN WHO CAME OUT THERE GAVE BIRTH TROUGH HIS MOUTH, I AM NOT OKAY Also, off topic... the vicar (priest) was kinda bad ngl... the way he got on his knees and groaned and panted like that... jesus christ...making me think unspeakable things

[luna-the-cretar]

Why does my brain only make me think of significant character moment while I’m at work—

Anyway, remember how Gideon had the fae love curse towards Kremy? Well, idk if anyone else caught it, but Gideon said “I love you” towards Kremy while under the curse (twice, I think? Counting Bumbo as well?). And I’m not talking about “oh, I loved your original form, but I love this form as well” or “I’m so glad we’re married”. I mean Gideon said, and I fucking quote; “Man, I love you.” While Kremy was distracted with something else.

And what really gets me is that they then did the fucking “what?” (From Kremy, probably realizing that Gid just said something) “what?” (From Gideon, who I think had a big dopey innocent smile as if he didn’t just fucking verbally say that he loves his best friend and ironic husband)

And then, after the curses wore off and before they met the king of Downfall, Gideon was quiet. Like really quiet. Frosty even pointed out that Gideon hadn’t said anything in a while, so it wasn’t just a meta “Mace letting everyone else talk” thing. And for the next few episodes afterward, he started acting kinda awkward around Kremy

Idk I think I might be overanalyzing literally every little thing. I mean, I know they’re basically end game at this point (god I hope they are), so it’s not like I’m looking for every scrap of evidence I can for a rarepair (*cough* frostbek *cough*). Im just. Hnngh they make me unwell.

[rema-rin]

Y'all know what, I've been progressively amassing a collection of art, doodles and shitposts all surrounding one of our ongoing Dungeons and Dragons campaigns // aka I've had character brainrot for a while// and I think Tumblr might actually be a good site to try and start figuring out how to even just,, start, posting about it in a semi-cohesive manner - it'll be quite self-indulgent. So. I'll be tagging content and art related to this campaign as "CA Campaign" since the server dedicated to it is named "Capitalist Apocalypse"

[thekittyokat]

you ever just have a lot, a LOT of feelings all at once about a character and not even remotely enough words or brainpower to FORM the words to describe everything you're feeling. so it feels like you may explode. yeah

[osamusriceballs]

Finding Love

Bokuto x fem reader

Words: ~ 1,8 k

Warnings: NSFW (dry humping, sex against a wall)

About: A one night stand with Bokuto <3

A/n: I'm craving more one night stands with the haikyuu boys. Suna next. PERIOD.

"Y/n-"

The way he holds you sends shivers down your body. You're seated on his lap, his muscular thighs between yours, his lips delivering the messiest, hottest, open-mouthed kisses against your neck. Both of his large hands rest on your back, pulling you close, so close to him.

One of your hands rests on his shoulder, while the other finds its way into his spikey hair—messing it up as you involuntarily grab the strands tighter when he intensifies his actions.

"Koutaro..." His name still feels foreign on your tongue, a hazy memory from the introductions exchanged during passionate kisses in his car. His low groan assures you that you pronounced it correctly, and you're rewarded with a particularly hard suck against your throat.

He's hard. Unmistakably so. You subtly shift your weight, while your hand glides down his chest, tracing the outline of his well-defined muscles. He's not just tall, he exudes strength and fitness, making you feel incredibly safe and cherished in his embrace.

Your heart races in your chest, probably due to your excitement. Every move he makes steals your breath, his groans intensifying the sensation of his lips marking your skin.

"Y/n?" He pulls back slightly to look into your eyes, a questioning furrow in his brow. He looks so good that it momentarily takes your breath away.

"Yes?" Your reply, and your hand releases his hair, allowing him to adjust his posture and sit back.

"Could we move this to the bedroom?" His question is filled with hesitation, his cheeks tinted with a pink flush while his teeth dig into his lower lip as soon as he finishes speaking.

Both of you know what he just proposed. Your mind races, and his expression shifts as he waits for your response—his gaze now dropping, an endearing shyness in his posture.

"We don't have to if you're not comfortable. I just thought..."

"No! I mean, yes, let's go to the bedroom." You quickly interrupt, eager to ensure that you want it too. You want to continue this, to explore more of him.

His expression changes once more, an enthusiastic grin playing across his features. His hands wander to your ass, and before you can react, he stands up with you still in his arms. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, his arousal pressing against your barely covered core—restrained only by the thin layers of your panties and his dress pants.

"I want so much more. To see you, to feel you," he murmurs, while he's walking towards what you presume is the bedroom. "Please, I want it- I want you so much," you gasp, trying to grind against him, the friction adding fuel to your arousal.

A hard kick of his leg opens door, and suddenly, you're pressed against the wall. He's towering over you, his lips finding yours in a feverish kiss full of hunger and need. His lips against yours are intoxicating, plump and soft, with a sweetness and passion that convinces you that you're the only focus of his desire right now. Pressed against the wall, you're barely able to think, only able to feel.

"Do you... want to continue like this? Against the wall?" His words reach your ears as barely more than a breath, his kiss taking all your thoughts away. His words and his sheer strength make your body tremble even more with excitement.

"Yes, Koutaro," you breathe out, your voice full with anticipation. Your hands dig under the fabric of his shirt, meeting the warm expanse of his bare back. His muscles are tense and firm, a clear sign of his physical strength- he probably hits the gym regularly.

"Fuck me, Koutaro, please." The plea slips from your lips, the words coming out breathy and needy. His response is immediate, his hips grinding against you, his cock pressing hardly against your cunt.

"Koutaro. Please," you rasp the words against his lips again, feeling him trembling with excitement suddenly. Your hands wander between your bodies, finally, a little clumsily reaching the button of his pants and fumbling for a few seconds before you open it and reach into his boxers. He breaks the kiss when your fingertips brush against his cock, feeling him hard and throbbing against you. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breath heavy and ragged, while you keep palming him and exploring his body. His cock is thick, so thick that you're not sure if you could wrap your hand fully around him. But what makes you tremble in anticipation is how long it actually is. His cock definitely matches his physical appearance—broad and tall.

"Your hand feels good, so good, so good," he suddenly thrusts his hips against your hand, and you quickly move your other hand to the hem of his boxers to pull them down. His cock finally springs free, pressing up against your body, and you simply reach down to push your panties to the side and line his cock up at your entrance.

"Fuck," he groans against your skin, his hot breath meeting the shell of your ear, and he finally, finally pushes into you, the head of his cock disappearing between your legs and making your eyes roll back.

"Kou, fuck, Kou," you groan, your head falling back against the wall, not caring about the thump and the loud sound of your head crashing against the wall echoing through the room, along with your lewd moan and his grunts.

His hips slowly push forward, his cock deliciously stretching you out while he sinks deeper into your cunt. He easily slides through your wetness, his hands gripping your ass even tighter, leaving fingerprints on your backside for sure, and you clench around him when he's fully inside of you.

Your lips part as you breathe heavily, your muscles tensing at the sudden feeling of being overwhelmed with emotions. His hips suddenly move back and slam forward, his cock barely leaving your pussy, but the sudden thrust makes you gasp for air. "Oh, please-" you whine, not even sure what you're begging for, but he has you, he thrusts his hips again, and again, harder with every thrust, his movements suddenly even more unrestricted. "Tell me when you want me to stop," he whispers against your ear, and you only moan in response before he starts to thrust faster.

"Oh my god, fuck-" curses and prayers leave your lips endlessly, until you only manage to moan his name when he thrusts his cock into you, again and again. Your mind is hazy, your whole body electrified by his touch, your pussy deliciously clenching around him at every particularly sharp thrust.

"Touch yourself," he groans into your ear, your whole body shuddering at his raspy needy voice. You quickly bring one hand to your chest and start palming yourself, squeezing your tit through your shirt with your hand. A gasp leaves your lips, and suddenly Bokuto's face is right in front of you, his lips connecting with yours hungrily, firmly, with an intensity that makes your whole body burn. Your hand wanders further down while you keep on kissing him, your fingers quickly finding your clit and starting to rub against it feverishly.

"You're so hot, so damn hot," his words make you flush even further, and you reciprocate the kiss with more intensity, your fingers digging into the muscles of his shoulders.

"Please, don't stop, don't stop, don't stop, Kou," you whine, your hips rutting against him and grinding against his broad body. "Can't stop, baby, feels too good, you feel so good," he sounds almost desperate while he's grinding your body against him, the feeling making you see stars, you're so close, so close-

He presses his face against your neck, the sounds of his grunts and moans muffled against your skin, and when his hands grab your thighs almost painfully hard and he thrusts hard again—that's when you finally feel yourself cum, your muscles contracting and your body arching in his hold, your head falling back and your eyes rolling back in your head. "Kou, fuck-" you moan his name, your voice sounding so lewd that you'd be embarrassed, but your name leaves his lips at the same time, his body tensing and you feel a sudden warmth between your legs, his cum filling you up and making your high even more intense.

Your breath comes out erratically from your lips, your chest heaving heavily while your fingers comb through his hair. Most of his hairspray is already on your hands, the strands turning surprisingly soft, and you slightly tug on them after a while, to make him lift his face.

He quickly raises his head at the feeling, and your breath stops for a second when you see his face. He looks so cheerful and happy, his features even softer than you've ever seen before. He presses a quick peck to your lips, the gesture so soft and surprising that you can only stare at him with your jaw slightly dropped.

He finally stumbles back, his arms shaking, but his grip around your thighs still firm, and only two steps later he simply falls back onto the bed, your body resting on top of him. His cock is still half inside of you, slowly turning from hard to soft, but still so warm and welcome.

His hands find your bare back under your shirt, caressing your skin and drawing you closer. Bokuto exudes a soothing warmth, his body like a heater beneath you, and your fingers roam around his chest and play with the hem of his shirt. You did all this, and yet you're both still almost fully clothed- you can't even imagine how much more intense it would be if you're both naked.

"My friend Akaashi—you've seen him before, remember the guy with glasses? That's my best friend," he suddenly breaks the silence, prompting you to lift your gaze to meet his. His sweet smile causes your lips to curl upwards too. "Yes, I remember him. He was very polite." Bokuto's grin widens, and he nods with enthusiasm. "That's him. Akaashi told me that I'm not cut out for one-night stands. That they are all 'devoid of love'. But I believe that love can also start physically like this, don't you think? Because this did feel like the beginning of love." His sincere tone catches you off-guard, your eyebrows arching in surprise.

"I... yes, I think so too." Your response makes him smile even more- and the butterflies won't stop in your stomach.

"So... do you think we could see each other again?"

You feel his cum trickling between your legs, but both of you only focus on each other, not caring about the slowly growing stains on his dark pants. Your eyes are focused on him, his eyes shining with brightness and hope, his focus entirely on you. A comforting warmth washes over you, and you smile widely when you reply and lean closer to press a kiss to his lips.

"Yes. Yes, I think so."

[youchangedmedestiel]

Destiel AU idea (again)

Dean is searching for a flat because he recently divorced Lisa. He wants one that is big and comfortable enough to welcome his children, Ben and Emma. It's been months since he started searching for one. Fortunately, Lisa is understanding enough to let him stay in their old house until he finds something.

They actually aren't in a hard and conflicted relationship right now, their marriage stopped because there wasn't love between them anymore. They still care about each other.

Dean knew he wasn't in love with Lisa anymore and he suspected the same for Lisa, but he was fine with it. Lisa though thought otherwise. She asked for divorce because she said that they both deserved to find love and be loved.

So, Dean is doing his umpteenth visit for a flat that he spotted on Internet. This one seems really nice and clean, his children will be able to have their own rooms. And the kitchen looks awesome with enough place for him to cook.

The real estate agent who give him the tour of the flat isn't bad either. He has blue eyes, which looks surreal, long and dark eyelashes that match his hair and his growing beard. Dean listens to him attentively and can't help but look right into his eyes when he speaks. Dean wants to confide in him and he does that naturally actually.

He tells him that he is sick to search for a home for his family. It's been months, and he's exhausted to be disappointed each time he thinks he found something. But at the same time, he wants his children to feel good in that new home so he is demanding.

That real estate agent, Castiel, is compassionate and doesn't understand why Dean doesn't find one with his solid, complete application. Castiel tells Dean that maybe it's because others real estate agents are struggling right now. There's a lot of people searching for a new home at this time of the year, so a lot of work. Castiel admits that he, himself, is buried in work all day long.

He works 6 days a week constantly. Since Dean is really attentive to what the man in front of him says, he notices that Castiel doesn't seem to have someone in his life to get back to. So, he goes for it. He asks Castiel if he wants to go and get a drink with him once they have finished the tour.

Castiel seems surprised by the offer and looks away. He fumbles with his pen and papers and puts them on the kitchen counter. He takes a deep breath. So, Dean fears his answer.

"Are you asking me on a d-" Castiel starts asking hesitantly.

"Yes." Dean cuts him, because he somehow fears that word. It sounds too official and he's still living with his ex. Plus, it's been a while for him.

"O - okay. Yeah." Castiel agrees, and neither of them is able to look at the other.

[wiltkingart]

Finished reading mouth to mouth to mouth last week and haven’t stopped thinking about it. Really fantastic work, thank you so much. Such a range of stories, but all with such a distinct sense of rich worldbuilding and full of squirmy visceral horror. It’s really hard to pick a favourite out of all of them, but Sting, Godling, and Mouth to Mouth to Mouth were probably my top ones, though bits of Crystalline have stuck with me, and Lambskin was just such a good one as well. I love body horror stories, and to read an entirely transmasc one was amazing. You have such a good sense of worldbuilding and making unsettling but extremely captivating stories. I hope you keep writing, I’d love to read more of your work. (Love your art too! Been a fan for many years!)

thank you very much! i've been writing on and off for quite a while but i finally feel like i've gotten my footing, or at least have a better sense of what i want to focus on and how to actually make it happen. at the moment i have a few wips (a t4t disgraced assassin x bare chested mercenary erotic story, a long medieval vampires novel, and most recently i've got sadistic fairies clawing at my brain). so i'm not sure which one you'll be able to read next, but no matter what i'm looking forward to writing a lot more next year!

[spadeprincesss]

I've noticed that Green uses a sword different from the Four Sword, do they not use it anymore? If so, does Blue also have his own special sword as another sword user, or does he use the same one as Green? Are they just generic knight swords? I'm also curious about Blue's axe and hammer... Forgive my curious yapping

Omg I’m so glad to see people are noticing little details in my art! For those who didn’t see this is the sword Green has in one of my recent pieces.

It’s a simplified version of BOTWs royal knight’s sword, and this means exactly what you think it means: the colors don’t use the Four Sword anymore.

It was placed back on its pedestal to keep Ganon sealed away (I have to reread the manga but they seal him away right?) but given that throughout their adventure they changed so much and became their own people the Four Sword is not able to truly make them one again. Because of this they decide to live their lives separately, and at some point the Four Sword’s hold on them breaks entirely, which is what allows them to look so different from one another (difference in height, eye color, etc.) despite at one point being one person.

I want to clarify that although the piece of them all standing together to fight does indeed happen in my story it doesn’t look exactly like that. There are a lot of details that are different that i changed just so there are some surprises left when i actually write the damn fanfic lmao.

But yes, Green and Blue as sword users do have special swords that they use. They’re both decorated heroes so it’s not hard to find a blacksmith willing to make you a custom sword. What bigger honor than making a sword for a hero after all?

In all actuality Red is really the only one that still uses the same exact weapon as in the manga, and that’s because they’re a magical weapons, though they have had a few upgrades. Blue and Vio both have their original weapons stored for sentimental reasons, but as they grew in strength they needed upgrades to match it.

As for Blue’s ax and hammer… well I’ll definitely be drawing those soon.

And never apologize! I adore these questions! Let’s me know people want to play in my silly little world I made inside my head lmao!

[tblsomedoodles]

MIF VIDEO's DONE!! FINALLY! AFTER ALL THIS TIME!!!

It gets posted tomorrow!! (technically it get's posted in 9 hours. I scheduled it b/c i'm excited, and impatent, and will be busy tomorrow regardless.)

as always, i'll post a link when it's officially up.

[wikiangela]

fuck it friday

tagged by @diazsdimples @daffi-990 @disasterbuckdiaz @fortheloveofbuddie 💖

a little more from alive shannon! I think I finished chapter 3 and I hate most of the last 500 words but that's for future/editing me to fix, so good luck to her, I'm moving on 🤣

prev snippet

___

He doesn’t know how long it’s been when he hears his phone ring. It sounds too loud in the quiet of the waiting room, everyone’s eyes turn to him. He quickly fishes his phone out of his pocket and sees Shannon’s name on the screen. He picks up, gets up and goes a little further away for some semblance of privacy.

“Hi, listen, now’s not really-” he starts, whispering, but is interrupted.

“Eddie, oh my god, are you okay?”

“I-” he sighs, leaning against the wall. He’s not. He won’t be until he gets his best friend back. That’s not what she’s asking, though. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“How’s Buck? Is he gonna be- I’m so sorry.” she says, pity in her voice. “I just saw the news, god, that was…” she trails off, not knowing how to finish the sentence. Yeah, Eddie gets that. He doesn’t know what that was, either.

“He’s in surgery now.” Eddie says, throat tight. “He should be okay. Though I don’t know about his leg.” 

“If you need anything-” she starts, and he thinks about Chris, currently staying with Carla – Eddie’s supposed to be home already. “You know I’m here.”

“I know. Uh, actually, Shan, could you maybe- could you stay with Chris tonight? I don’t want to have to ask Carla to stay too long, and I wanna stick around here. Wait for news.” he says tiredly. He knows there’s no point in being here. Buck’s in surgery, and after they’ll probably won’t be able to see him anyway, he’ll still be under anesthesia, and maybe they’ll let Maddie in. He could ask her to call him with news. Still, he wants to be here. He can’t leave, he just- he can’t. He knows everyone will leave soon, they’re all tired after the day they’ve had, and there’s no use to sit around at the hospital and wait. But he can’t leave.

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @gaydiaz @diazass @thebravebitch @silentxxsoul @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @arthursdent @911onabc @housewifebuck @rogerzsteven @watchyourbuck @underwater-ninja-13 @eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @wildlife4life @nmcggg @diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @thewolvesof1998 @puppyboybuckley @weewootruck @buckaroosheart @spagheddiediaz @steadfastsaturnsrings @exhuastedpigeon @jesuisici33 @theotherbuckley @rainbow-nerdss @malewifediaz @giddyupbuck @jeeyuns @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @honestlydarkprincess @hippolotamus @spotsandsocks @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @hoodie-buck

[uranium235s]

another day another chester template + the portrait bigger because I wanted to try out a brush. scratchy texture .

things in the favorites category are things that I believe would be his in-universe favorites, not necessarily what I think represents him since I already have a post detailing chesters symbolism anyway . n then for characters that inspired him I'll be so honest this guy came right from my brain when i was like 16 or 17 so instead I tried to find characters that remind me of him in retrospect but could only think of 3. sorry

[moomeecore]

i found a book abt the anti lawn movement at the library & decided to sit out in my yard & read it. but ironically there was a neverending barage of power tool noises making it difficult to focus. so i walked to a nature park near me in order to escape the dreaded sounds. almost stopped at the mowed picnic table area bc i hate walking but fortunately pushed forward and made myself walk up an annoying hill to an area that is a preservation of a native oak savanna & sat down against a tree near the edge of the path & did my reading there. and honest to god that was a 100/10 experience. there was something so powerful abt being in a preserve for a locally native habitat while reading abt the impacts homeowners can have on native plant preservation! it powered up my energy towards my life mission (evangelize abt enviormentally sustainable gardening to every single person who comes within a 10 ft radius of me) by like. 15 points. also a deer walked up to me and that was super cool

[bromcommie]

I AIN'T MARCHING ANYMORE a steve rogers playlist, start to finish

Listen on YouTube (click on images for full resolution!)

sam | nat | bucky

[deoidesign]

I was scrolling and saw your art and it made me really happy because I realized you made time and time again!!!

It’s literally one of my favorite things I’ve ever read, so cool!!!

This is so sweet, thank you for sharing!

It's sort of "illusion breaking" so to speak, to think of my art being both out there in a way that someone could happen upon it, and then further that someone may happen upon it twice, and finally that on doing so they find it recognizable...

I always think of myself and my work as something that sort of sits behind the curtain. The idea that it might take up space in this way is unreal!

This is the kind of thing that means more than you could imagine.

So thank you!

[pherryt]

November was a shit show and I'm STILL recovering from it (literally falling asleep at my computer only a few hours after waking up, that's how tired i am lately) but I've still managed to get words in (on the WRONG STORY but whatever. still words, i'll take them)

This means that right now I am SO CLOSE to finishing the sequel to The Scout's Path that I can practically TASTE it. Which might just be the fastest I've written a non-one shot in ages.

(Current word count is around 44k and I'm just TRYING to tie off the last two chapters)

[serenescribe]

had a really rough day. wanted to get out my feelings through writing. easier by the crane wives is a lilia song. enjoy c:

“I’ll be back soon, Silver,” Lilia whispers, kneeling down to press a kiss against his son’s forehead, one hand cupping his cheek. “Be good, alright? Remember your chores, and your—”

“And my exercises, I know,” Silver answers, smiling brightly at him. And oh, it makes Lilia’s chest ache so deeply, like a hand has grasped around his beating heart, fingers curling tighter and squeezing until his breath chokes in his throat.

Everything about the boy, the child he has taken in as his own, makes him feel so strongly — especially the silver strands of silken locks that frame his face, causing the aurora glint of his pupils to shine even brighter. It is a feeling that Lilia dubbed as a negative years ago, when he had picked up that wooden cradle in the woods and watched the baby tucked within it open its eyes — a reflection of a foe long since slaughtered, an enemy that makes Lilia’s blood boil with rippling rage.

But lately, he cannot help but feel as though the feeling, the emotion he keeps cradled within his heart, is shifting. When Silver was younger, Lilia had to leave the house over and over, taking a breather for himself as he quelled his roaring rage, the impetuous youthful general of his mind screaming for him to take the boy out. But now, when he ruffles the young boy’s hair, or opens his arms when he clings to him for a hug, all Lilia feels is a candlelight swell of something warmth — so small and delicate, as though a single breath can blow it out.

And so, with confusion misting his mind and emotions tangling into his chest, Lilia leaves, again and again.

He leaves, travels far and wide, under the guise of missions and quests, or, when he has no further excuse, for his own private purposes. Lilia steps away from the cottage he has slowly begun to consider a home, wraps his heart with powerful armour, tucks away those muddled feelings for later, preferably never. Lilia stays away long enough, feeling the wind against his face, smelling the salt of the seas, feeling the heat of the sun he’s never truly loved beating down on his skin.

And when his tasks are done, or when he cannot stay away any longer, he returns.

Each and every time he comes home, Silver greets him with a smile, arms outstretched for a hug. “I missed you, Papa,” he says so shyly as Lilia lifts him up, mirth trickling into each new reunion, casting the memories in sunny hues. “I’m happy you’re home.”

And what is Lilia to do, then, when his heart seizes at those words? The armour breaks apart, a burst of something strong and hot sweeping through him; he coos in response, praises how good Silver has been, taking care of the house, looking after himself, my, what a mature child he is! But Lilia has never returned the words that Silver always whispers to him whenever he gets sleepy and Lilia tucks him into bed; he turns his head to the side, light locks of hair splayed out over his scratchy pillow, lips parting to murmur, “I love you, Papa.”

Everytime he hears those words—

(And it is never only during their reunions, for Silver always tells him that, brimming with such love that it makes some younger part of him freeze up, locking in place, bile rising through his throat.)

—Lilia has to leave again.

Silver is seven now. He has grown so much in such a short time — thus is the fragility of humankind, Lilia muses to himself. He used to think of it as a blessing when Silver was but a baby, for it would cut short the number of years they had to spend together. But now?

Lilia isn’t sure what to think now.

(Or perhaps it is more like he refuses to admit the truth to himself.)

He swallows down the lump in his throat, sucking in a deep breath. “I trust you to take care of yourself, dear,” he says as brightly as he can manage, fingers pulling away as he reaches for the swinging clasp of his travelling cloak. Lilia adjusts it, ensuring the hood can cover his face — the sunlight has always been a blasted enemy of his, after all — but as he turns to leave…

A tug.

He pauses. Turning his head to glance over his shoulder, Lilia’s eyes meet auroral pupils, wide eyes that gaze up at him as though he hung the stars.

“I love you, Papa,” Silver reminds him, shining so splendidly that it hurts. “Take care, okay?”

His ribs press in against his lungs, digging in tight, each breath shallow and raw.

“I will,” Lilia promises, voice shaky, forcing a smile that does not fit onto his face. “Thank you, Silver.”

And when he leaves again, walks the familiar path away from their home — and when has he begun to truly think of it that way? Lilia does not remember — Lilia’s steps grow faster and faster, breath catching in his throat until he’s running, practically flying, getting away as quickly as he can.

(For what reason does he run?

Is it because he cannot stand the sight of Silver, the boy who resembles the Dawn Knight to such an eerie extent?

Or is it because he’s unable to comprehend the possibility that he is getting attached?)

It is better to leave, again and again.

Until he can wrangle his feelings, until he can pick apart every flicker of doting warmth and every icy shard of contempt, until he can decide for himself that yes, he will leave or no, he will stay, permanently, irreversibly—

Lilia will wander the earth and hide the love that he feels, pushing it away until it becomes bearable enough for him to go home.