#para dynamics

[acircusfullofdemons]

paracosm // phantasmagoria [the arcane files] || para dynamics // emory & myriam [emory warwick & myriam travers]

Time cast a spell on you, but you won't forget me

I know I could've loved you, but you would not let me

I'll follow you down 'til the sound of my voice will haunt you

Give me just a chance

You'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you

🐈‍⬛🪞 listen to their playlist here 🪞🐈‍⬛

[flalftherat]

Posting here makes me want to rip my hair out lol but whatev

[smileflowcr]

Pasaron semanas desde aquel suceso, donde perdió el control ante la ira y dejó salir los celos de una manera despiadada contra una ninfa, convirtiendo a quien era objeto de admiración de su esposo en una planta de menta. Perséfone es una entidad bondadosa incluso en el Inframundo, disfrutando platicar con las almas o jugar con Cerbero aportando así su grano de luz en la oscuridad, sin embargo todo lo bueno de su persona desapareció durante días, refugiándose en los preciosos asfodelos que lograban entender el enojo de la diosa, descansando entre ellos y buscando el calor que ha evitado durante las noches al dormir separada de Hades. Lo ha evitado desde que presenció a su reina envuelta en la locura, intentando así lastimarlo con palabras aunque cree que lo merece por el intento de infidelidad, pero ahora los pasos son cada vez más cercanos y Perséfone sale de su pequeño escondite de mala gana, asomándose entre las flores. "¿Sucede algo, mi rey? ¿No deberías estar juzgando almas?"

[balladetto]

in case you didn't know / accepting / @gloryseized ( Shion )

<< You're amazing, you know that? >>

     He doesn't flinch.

     That is to say: he doesn't mean to, but the sudden surge of emotion that bites something deep within his chest has his hands jerking back from where they'd been hovering over Shion's wound. The feeling crawls up his throat in prickles, hot and radiant and far too big to be properly contained beneath his skin, and it's all he can do to keep from trembling under the weight of it.

     It is, frankly, embarrassing. Really, really with a capital E-embarrassing. He has to duck his head against the new heat blooming across his cheeks; almost has half a mind to clamp his hands over his ears when they start tingling with colour, too. Aris isn't so starved for care that this should strike him so hard, nor is he some starry-eyed little kid anymore, yet— here he is. Struck that hard like some starry-eyed little kid, because it's Shion. The real Link. The one of gold-tinted memories; of a grief scarred over; of a back he'd only see in his dreams, ever out of reach.

     His big brother.

     Aris doesn't know when he'll get used to having one again.

     He tries swallowing the tangle of whatever overwhelming thing has settled at the back of his mouth. It's not quite a success, but enough of it goes down that he's no longer too shy to glance up, a wry smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he shakes his head.

     "You're just saying that so I don't get mad," he signs, because thank you feels like it would be as tender as I love you. Maybe it comes through anyway, in the hand that rests on Shion's shoulder, squeezing, before he turns to grab a roll of bandages. "I'm still mad. Don't do that again."

[mikrokosmcs]

-  —Oh…  —  -el  ahora  rubio  deja  salir  un  pequeño  sonido  de  sorpresa,  su  túnica  es  blanca  traslucida,  con  ligeros  diamantes  azulinos  y  dorados  incrustados  de  forma  serena  entre  la  tela,  junto  con  los  pies  descalzos  tocando  el  pasto,  le  hacen  lucir  como  una  ninfa  en  medio  del  bosque.  A  Seongyeol  nunca  le  gustó  la  ciudad,  por  ende,  cuando  todo  terminó  y  pudieron  comenzar  a  hacerse  una  vida  de  verdad,  es  que  le  pidió  a  Hyuk  una  cabaña  en  medio  de  la  naturaleza,  cerca  de  la  casa  de  cristal  y  madera  de  sus  padres,  y,  por  ende,  de  los  demás  no  tan  pequeños  héroes  que  también  entre  la  guerra  y  la  desesperación,  encontraron  el  amor.  -  —Deja  esas  fresas,  ven  aquí  —  -su  tonalidad  es  autoritaria  como  siempre,  acomodándose  mejor  sobre  la  manta  para  llamar  al  alfa.  -  —Creo  que  se  está  moviendo…  o  tengo  indigestión,  tu  instinto  te  dirá  que  hace  tu  cachorro  allá  adentro.

[aluminia]

"Ναι Δημοσθένη σε μισώ, θα σου 'βγαζα τα μάτια αν σε έβλεπα από κοντά αλλά επίσης είσαι το πιο κοντινό μου άτομο από τη παλιά μας παρέα και επίσης θα σε βοηθήσω να σωθείς αλλά μόνο για να σώσω τον εαυτό μου. Είσαι το μόνο άτομο από το παρελθόν μου στο οποίο δίνω σημασία αλλά επίσης άντε πνίξου. Δεν έχω καθόλου θέμα να δολοφονήσω κάποιον σου εμάς αν χρειαστεί για να βοηθήσω τον εαυτό μου αλλά παρόλο που προσπαθείς να μου χαλάσεις τη καριέρα απλώς θα βάζω δημοσιογράφους να σου κάνουν άβολες ερωτήσεις"

[quietlyblooms]

i'm really itching to write, so i'll be working on bingo sheets and replies, and then at some point, i'll send out more asks! i might be pretty absent from the dash, though, bc i'll get sidetracked too easily otherwise uvu

[sillycyan]

Donis has no clue how much he means to Reign..

[mverickz]

[ argue ] sender gets into a heated argument with receiver ( nathan + yulin )

non-verbal angst prompts ♡ aceitando !

que nathaniel conseguia a tirar do sério facilmente não era uma novidade, só que agora a situação havia ficado complicada demais. o que começou com algumas implicâncias costumeiras e os dois se provocando aqui e ali, terminou com eles gritando dentro do vestiário. yulin sentia seu corpo ferver tamanha a raiva que sentia naquele momento, ela tentava se manter séria e apenas o respondia, até porque não queria perder a sua razão (se é que ela a tinha), só que ainda escutava a voz do coreano e isso era o suficiente para a fazer perder a linha.

━━ a sua vida é tão miserável assim, nathaniel? ━━ perguntou, bufando enquanto passava a mão por seus fios. ━━ tanto ao ponto de você precisar tentar se sentir melhor vindo até aqui encher o meu saco até eu ficar completamente maluca? ━━ se aproximou do rapaz, a chinesa não era violenta e nem louca de achar que teria alguma força para fazer algo com o garoto, só que seu corpo se moveu impulsivamente para o empurrar contra a parede. ━━ o que você quer? quer tentar me expulsar me irritando até o ponto em que eu te mato? ━━ ela grunhiu. ━━ você realmente é o maior imbecil que eu já conheci. espero que você continue se sentindo um merda. se você queria descontar alguma coisa escolheu a pessoa errada. ━━ a garota revirou os olhos, se virando para que pudesse ir embora. não se importava se o coreano ainda queria falar alguma coisa, no fim das contas ela realmente não podia passar dos limites e precisava sair dali. o motivo dos dois acabarem se odiando tanto atualmente mal fazia sentido. era como se eles simplesmente não pudessem funcionar juntos, polos totalmente opostos. ou melhor, talvez fossem muito parecidos e por isso se repelissem. andou para o mais longe possível, se jogando em um banco e cobrindo seu rosto com as mãos, tentando se acalmar e evitando derramar uma lágrima sequer. talvez ela tenha passado dos limites, sabia que muito do que ela disse não queria realmente falar daquela forma. só que como poderia se desculpar? estava fora de cogitação.

em pouco tempo algo passou pela sua mente, foi até sua bolsa e procurou qualquer caneta que pudesse usar. sempre que algo a tirava do sério, ela sabia que tinha uma pessoa que podia a acalmar mesmo com poucas palavras. "ei, tá aí? queria conversar. o assunto pode ser qualquer coisa idiota. o que acha?" escrevia com certa pressa em seu braço, evitava entrar em detalhes demais sobre o que acontecia consigo, talvez por seu próprio receio de se deixar se apegar a alguém. só que no fim das contas aquele era seu soulmate, quem sabe esse destino também fazia com que eles se entendessem tão bem.

@allieland

[blue-madd]

Made an AU for Ian and Naïl where they're called Jack and Eden bc why not

After the "barista x vet assistant" version, here's the "bass player x influencer" version~ (+ their lil apartment)

Plot was so simple : influencer finds himself at a concert and compliments the bass player for his skills who instantly becomes obsessed w him and casually starts crashing at his place

Also the apartment was made based on inspo I found on Pinterest so really no original idea for this one (I have never been so uninspired lmao)

[greencruz]

006, a swing set in an empty playground at night. owen&christine

SET THE SCENE : ACCEPTING !

luto a perseguia de mais maneiras do que se permitia assumir. as vezes christine se pegava pensando em quantos meios de não viver ainda teria pela frente antes de que sua existência se tornasse um imenso funeral daquilo que perdeu por culpa própria. porque, bem, o que ela havia se tornado ao menos era prático, real e importante. mas o que jamais havia sido para sempre a perseguiria fim dos tempos adentro. nunca mais teria a infância de ethan. nunca mais poderia tentar ser uma filha melhor para sua mãe. nunca havia dito que amava o próprio pai antes de perdê-lo injustamente. nunca havia sido só uma menina ingênua, também não havia sido uma mãe de primeira viagem aprendendo a cuidar do filho. não havia sido uma boa pessoa. não até ser tarde demais para segundas chances. para ela restava apenas o peso da obrigação afundando os ombros. emblemático, talvez. precisou do fim dos tempos para perceber seus erros.

luto perseguia a todos. pensou adicionalmente, enquanto andavam pelas ruas esburacadas de um bairro suburbano atrás de recursos. o vento veranil deixava o espaço mais assombroso, com os objetos aleatórios fazendo ruídos baixos, daqueles que davam a falsa impressão de que havia mais do que era visto. grande bobagem. fantasmas eram uma ideia muito mais acolhedora do que a carniça fúnebre que enfrentava todos os dias em todo lugar aonde pisava. fantasmas não eram corpóreos, rápidos e letais. na vida real, os mortos eram muito mais brutais do que um bicho papão aparecendo pelo canto dos olhos.

apertou a sacola em volta das mãos, olhando para a figura de owen pela primeira vez desde sua breve divagação. normalmente era sua função tentar conversar, mas parecia estar tão introspectiva quanto ele nos dias mais ordinários. ainda assim, alcançou no fundo da bolsa uma garrafa de água e o ofereceu. quando teve sua atenção, deu de ombros, tentando amenizar a importância do ato cuidadoso. custava admitir a si mesma que fazia isso mais vezes do que devia. sempre tentava parecer menos atenciosa do que realmente era com ele, e evitava racionalizar a razão por trás disso. era um terreno muito mais perigoso do que se atreveria. ainda assim, apontou com a cabeça até um dos parquinhos.

— um parquinho é um bom sinal. — comentou, sentando-se em um dos balanços vazios. e então, novamente, o convidou com um manear da cabeça. — nossa, e em bom estado. deve aguentar seu peso. — parecia impressionada enquanto avaliava a estrutura. começou a balançar de leve, olhando ao redor da rua solitária. luto. essa palavra não saía da sua cabeça desde que entraram ali. mas ela queria lutar contra. — com os recursos certos, aqui seria um lugar bom de se viver, sabia? — começou, tirando os olhos do horizonte para voltar a olhá-lo diretamente, enquanto encostava a cabeça nas correntes do brinquedo. — temos casas e um parque para as crianças. as ruas são largas e tem muito espaço aberto. se fosse possível fechar uma parte desse bairro, viraria um ambiente seguro. — talvez fosse idealismo demais, mas estava se deixando divagar para um lugar mais feliz. — a gente poderia colorir as ruas com tinta, tá muito sem graça. mas definitivamente caberia uma comunidade aqui. — ainda não tinham muitas pessoas, porém, gostava da ideia.

se agitou um pouco mais, e o balanço tomou mais movimento, e então, empurrou-o para o lado para atingir o de owen. — até hoje eu tenho uma cicatriz que foi feita em um desses. — um sorriso apareceu quando se recordou. — tinha acabado de lançar de repente 30, e a cena do mark ruffalo e da jennifer garner se balançando e caindo juntos na areia ficou na minha cabeça. então um dia eu fiz igual: balancei muito, e bem alto. e aí, quando eu caí, foi de cara em uma pedra. fui pro hospital logo depois. — dessa vez o riso saiu um pouco mais alto. — foi a cicatriz mais inofensiva da minha vida, mas ela nunca saiu. — então, parou de se balançar e aproximou seu rosto do dele, sem pensar demais sobre isso. — abaixo do olho. dá pra ver? — depois que perguntou foi que reparou em como essa proximidade era um ímã pra uma proximidade ainda maior.

pensou por meio segundo: talvez não fosse mesmo uma boa pessoa. logo depois, o beijou.

[smileflowcr]

Ir de distrito en distrito es algo normal para él, tomando diversos trabajos sin importar qué tan arriesgados sean, tal vez porque en el fondo desea encontrar la muerte -sin importarle si es dolorosa o no- y así, detener los latidos de su corazón. Encuentra calma al caminar por las diferentes ciudades bajo las luces que decoran tiendas clandestinas, donde se puede encontrar des locales de comidas hasta prótesis robadas. Cada humano sobrevive a su manera, tomando trabajos que podían acabar con la poca humanidad que les queda, mientras otros esperan pacientemente cerrar los ojos para siempre entre la basura o escombros de edificios abandonados. Bulyeong ha encontrado tantos cuerpos que dejó de contarlos hace tiempo, al principio sentía incomodidad al tocar la fría piel de los cadáveres, teniendo malos recuerdos de quienes fueron su familia hace cientos de años y debió despedir para siempre, guardando en una pequeña cajita bajo su cama el juguete favorito de cada uno, siendo el único objeto que se llevó consigo cuando decidió huir con Haneul y Sooan.

Los colores neón del Distrito 5 parpadeaban, dando un aspecto más terrorífico a las calles y podía jurar escuchar gritos entre los callejones. Quizás eran pandillas enfrentándose por el territorio, o los soldados de la luz de Ciudad Luminosa buscando nuevos sujetos de pruebas, sea quién sea no iba a recibir ayuda, porque Bulyeong mantiene la vista en un cuerpo que yace en un montón de chatarra, con sangre y heridas a su alrededor. Se inclina hacia adelante para tocar la piel y comprobar si sigue respirando, sin embargo una extraña pero familiar sensación recorre por su espalda y está seguro que su rostro palidece. ¿Por qué? ¿Por qué ese chico le recuerda a Sooan? No se parecen en nada físicamente, pero la calidez que transmite es la misma a la de su amado a pesar que hay un agujero en su pecho. No tiene mucho tiempo para dudar pues percibe pasos a la distancia y en su dirección, así que carga al joven en sus brazos y se dirige corriendo al único lugar y persona en quién confía. Conoce cada distrito como la palma de su mano, por lo que trazar una ruta hacia el 1 no es tarea difícil, logrando camuflarse entre las sombras y asustando con la mirada a cualquier intruso que se sienta atraído. “¿Quién eres…?” pregunta en vano, el muchacho estaba al borde de la muerte y lo sabe por la forma que respira. Bulyeong se muerde el labio de la angustia, apresurando la marcha hasta llegar a unos suburbios que no conoce pero que su amigo describió con lujo de detalles en las cartas. Nunca creyó que volvería a él y si lo hacía, es porque fue capaz de enterar el amor para siempre. Se para frente a la puerta, dudando si habla, podía tocar, dejar al chico e irse antes que lo descubriera, no obstante su cuerpo se rehúsa a marcharse, diciéndole a gritos que hay algo especial en el humano que carga, algo que los conecta. “Sooan, soy yo, abre la puerta, es urgente.” Sus manos tiemblan y un dolor nace en su pecho, acompañado del mismo miedo que no ha experimentado desde que escaparon del laboratorio y su única preocupación era proteger a Sooan. “Alguien te necesita— yo te necesito, María, por favor.” La desesperación le obliga alzar la voz,  sujetando con fuerza el cuerpo del humano y sintiendo cómo va perdiendo su calor.

[lukas-dark-miracles]

What and Odd Pair || Xóchitl & Lukas

LOCATION: The Wormhole TIMING: Current PARTIES: Xóchitl (@vanishingreyes) & Lukas (@lukas-dark-miracles) SUMMARY: Xóchitl, while being ignored by the bartender finds a friend in Lukas. The two of them have a nice conversation. CONTENT WARNINGS: alcoholism tw

Lukas had taken to being at bars and things at night after his community meetings, mostly to keep himself outside and away from his Angel. It was getting worse, to be around her and it was much easier just to excuse himself into the world. So, despite the angels of his better nature he was sat at another bar hoping that whatever this period of time was would move quicker now. 

He wasn’t alone though, people around him as he tried to think of ideas and philosophies that might make himself feel better, they still had their own lives and problems. Without thinking he started noticing them, and without thinking noticed there was a younger woman next to him, who was seemingly being passed over as the bartender handled drinks. So, without much thought he caught the man’s eye. 

“Hm - oh Bartender I believe she would like to order when you have a minute. Please,” Lukas said nodding to the young woman he thought might have wanted to get herself a drink. Turning slightly to her he said, “Sorry for interfering. I just noticed he’d passed a few times and I fear I might have blocked his view of you.” 

___

Bars were a sort of second home for her. Not that Xóchitl would ever admit that – at least not to anybody except for Emilio, but that was because he understood her, and they were some sort of friends, even if it was complicated for either of them to entirely admit. Which made sense, but still – bars were comforting, and Xóchitl was self-aware enough to know that that wasn’t the best route of thinking.

Tonight, however, she was exceedingly frustrated as the bartender seemed to be ignoring her. Xóchitl didn’t like to think of herself as completely self-absorbed, but she also knew, from multiple data points, that she wasn’t someone people passed over, especially not in bars. Which might have been a part of why she liked them so much – the guarantee of surface level attention and validation of her looks.

Thankfully, though, that was short-lived when someone else stepped in to help. “No sorries needed,” Xóchitl turned her body to face the owner of the voice, crossing her legs and offering a smile of gratitude. “Your height isn’t something you should be sorry for, he also might’ve just not noticed me, for whatever reason.” Her lips formed a quick pout. “Maybe I’ll have to have whatever it is that you’re having.”

___

Lukas and bars were always a weird dichotomy but well - it hadn’t been exactly off limits when he was alive, and now that he was undead it felt the closest to a neutral place he still had access too. Besides, it was a good way to talk to others, to remind himself to be a little bit more human in nature. 

Lukas  gave the woman a light smile and nod happy to interfere and honestly get the bartender’s eyes off of himself. He was still unsure who was hunters in the area - and while he would like to think that the other man was just trying to hit on him, he wasn’t quite sure. Still he leaned back a little and said, “I will take that into consideration, but I am sorry about that too. You shouldn’t be ignored.”

 There was a bit of a nervous chuckle, as Lukas looked back at his own drink, “I’m having a whiskey neat, if you would like that. I’m not super adventurous.” 

___

“I’ll get plenty of attention some other way, later.” Xóchitl offered him a sly grin, though she also knew there were any number of other reasons why he could be playing so nice, and also maybe she wasn’t his type. Which she respected, even if sometimes it disappointed her.

She knew she couldn’t be everyone’s type, and though she relished in her apparent skill to take on what was most appealing to others whenever she could, Xóchitl also had come to acknowledge that maybe she did need to just chill and develop relationships normally, without jumping straight into flirting. Because – and she thought to Emilio, to Jade, to Siobhan – as fun as it was to have benefits of them, she’d gone and gotten fond of the friend side. More than she’d expected, more than she’d ever wanted to let herself. And then there were, of course, people like Metzli and like Leti, back when she’d been in town, who had never been romantic, but who she treasured deeply.

“I like most things.” To a fault, but he didn’t have to know that. “Whiskey neat sounds perfect.”

___

“I have no doubt,” Lukas said with a smile and a chuckle. She reminded him of someone but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Maybe someone he had known when he had still been alive. Not wanting to dwell on it though instead nodding at the idea and said to the bartender who he saw the nametag of , “Two, then John - if you would please. On my tab.” It only felt proper, and if he was to going to be honest the other seemed like she would be interesting to talk too. 

If nothing else, Lukas wanted to talk to someone and not feel like something was hanging in the balance. The other seemed to be able to do that. 

Leaning back in his stool he took down the rest of his own drink, something that wasn’t very hard to do and there wasn’t a whole lot left. It was something that was strange about his - condition- but not unwelcome. “Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t introduce myself. Hello, I’m Lukas.” 

___

“Well, that is something of a comfort.” Xóchitl let her smile reach her eyes without hesitation, because it was comforting, and the man was easy to talk to (though she found most people relatively easy to talk to). And he was paying, which was never ever a bad sign. Not that she couldn’t afford any of it herself, but there was a certain incredible satisfaction in having someone else pay for you.

It would allow her to not be alone – not that being at a bar ever meant she was alone, but actually talking to someone was always preferable to just sitting by her lonesome.

“I’m Xóchitl,” she stuck out her hand, ready to shake his, if that was something he found favorable to do, though if not, she could easily flip her hand around and brush it through her hair, pretending like that was what she’d intended to do in the first place. “What brings you here?”

___

Lukas chuckled wondering who the younger reminded him of. Perhaps a friend who had blurred into his mind now. He hardly looked older than Xóchitl, and if he was being very fair even if he had still been human he very much could still be alive. So it was always a little odd to him how memories had started to blur together.Still, the friend had been someone he had liked, and he liked the other’s company as well. In the end, wasn’t that what mattered? 

“Lovely name,” Lukas said with an easy smile shaking the other’s hand, careful to use the one that had been holding the glass - a new trick he had been using, to disguise the fact that his hands were cold. He had figured out through the group, that he was a different temperature now. He could have guessed it, but since his Sire’s hands were the same temperature as his and he had so rarely interacted with humans before it hadn’t occurred to him. “And a pleasure to meet you. I’m afraid I don’t have a big grand reason why I’m here. Just a nice change of pace. How about you?” 

___

“Thanks, though I didn’t give it to myself, obviously.” Xóchitl shrugged, “but I like having pretty things, and I suppose that all started when I was born, thanks to my name. His hands shaking hers were cold, but he had just put down his glass, and Mateo ran cold as it was, so it wasn’t anything she’d ever mind, even though she did much prefer the warmth.

“I like bars,” Xóchitl figured there was no reason to be anything but honest, and she wasn’t sure what else to say. It didn’t hurt to be honest. “No worries,” she nodded, “though I just wanted to check, to see and make sure if there was something worth celebrating.” She held her hands up before reaching for her glass. “Wild guess… you don’t normally go out to bars, do you?”

___

“Fair, but I think it suits you. Not every name suits everyone that get it. Your parents chose well,” Lukas said softly. His had been mistaken in the end. Lukas meant light after all, and he hardly was that. Nor was he very much like the apostle Luke either, although perhaps if he was lucky enough it might end up fitting him in the end.  The trick with the glass  seemed to have worked well enough, she wasn’t staring at him in horror or anything so negative. He’d have to use that more often. 

Lukas nodded and after a moment just chuckled. “No nothing to celebrate and you caught me this is a more recent phenomena.” After all, he hadn’t needed to escape so much when he had been a human. When he did, the gardens were lovely and he rather be near the Church. Now, well there weren’t many places he could stay all night other than bars and the odd cafe. It didn’t hurt to sit here and talk to people at the very least. “How could you tell? I’m usually pretty good at blending into my surroundings.” 

____

“My parents chose well with a lot of things,” the wonderful thing about strangers was how easy it was to push away and ignore any of her negative thoughts or less favorable past. This man - Lukas - didn’t know anything about her, and because of that, she could be anybody she wished to be. Not that Xóchitl had the intentions of trying to fool him, but she could be the best version of herself, and that was more than enough. “But thanks. I’ll be sure to tell them.” Her smile wasn’t even mostly fake, because any excuse to talk about her moms was always worth it.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell a soul, and I’m just good at figuring things out. You wouldn’t know that you’re not accustomed to bars at first glance to most.” Which might’ve been charitable, but Xóchitl was feeling rather charitable this evening, and even if she wasn’t going home with this man, he was still a wonderful distraction from any of the number of thoughts twisted up inside her head. “I’m a psychologist, and I spent a lot of my childhood watching, so I like to think I’m good at figuring people out. Like… so.” She pointed to a couple in the corner. “First date, they like each other both fairly equally, but she –” Xóchitl pointed to the brunette, “is nervous to do any sort of big conversations, and she –” Xóchitl pointed to the red-head, “is overly excitable and probably hasn’t been on a date in like, at least five years.” She turned back to face Lukas. “I’ll do someone else. I could tell you who finds me hot, or who I might ask home?” 

___

Lukas nodded, thinking of his own parents for a moment wondering if they chose well. They probably hadn’t. His mom would at least be terrified of him now he was fairly sure of that. Still that wasn’t neither here nor there. He smiled and responded, “You should.” 

He raised an eyebrow and chuckled, taking a sip of the whiskey Lukas could hardly taste. “Well good then. I would hardly like to be that odd, you know.” At the idea of a psychologist he was curious. He was fairly observant as a person, but he didn’t think he could know that much about a person at a glance. Normally he had to talk to them. “Impressive. I think you’re probably right,” Lukas said eyes flickering over to couple noticing a hint of something that reminded him of Her. Something unnatural that felt like a shadow across the woman’s eyes. He steadied himself on that though, not knowing for sure if she wasn’t just haunting him. The other woman should be fine. At the question he laughed with genuine surprise. “Sure. That would be fascinating. I’ve never been very good at that myself.” 

____ 

“I will.” He seemed the sort to take enjoyment in knowing that someone would do something he’d asked. It was just a hunch, but Xóchitl liked to think that she had a good handle on these kinds of things. Besides, she did plan to talk to her moms soon, and it was easy enough to bring up in casual conversation.

“Well, you aren’t odd.” At least not too odd, but she kept that particular thought all to herself. Xóchitl grinned. “I like to think I am right, but at the risk of sounded totally stuck up, I’ll just smile and thank you. We can forget my admitting just how delightful it is to be right and how often I am.” She grinned, hoping he knew that she was at least mostly joking. “Okay, well he,” she pointed to a guy just down the bar from them, “thinks I’m hot, but I’m not going home with him. He’s conservative, you can tell that from how he brushes his hair. She,” Xóchitl began, pointing to a blonde sitting at a table by herself, “also does, and she’s a good candidate, if she’s down for that. There’s others two, but those are the two immediate ones. Our bartender thinks you’re cute, and so does that guy just now sitting down. The one with the bourbon.”

___

He nodded and chuckled at the idea he wasn’t odd. He might not raise a lot of fear in people but most people did find him a bit odd. Lukas didn’t look quite human anymore. It was understandable even if it hurt him. 

He laughed and nodded, “I think that is actually the smartest course of action.” His voice was light, understanding a joke they were both in on. At her descriptions he glanced over at the other people and nodded, thinking that she was very good at this. He wasn’t expecting her to inturn tell him who thought he was cute sipping his drink he choked a little. He knew the bartender, but he hadn’t noticed the other guy. He laughed and shook his head, “Unfortunately for the both of them - I do have a boyfriend. You have a real skill. And, I believe I can do you a favor - and move so that woman can buy you a drink and you can see if you want to go home with her. She is, in fact, staring daggers at me now.” 

Lukas chuckled,  leaning to get John’s attention to check out. “Now John, just because I’m gone don’t miss her needing another drink alright? I’ll be very upset if you do.” It was teasing and light even as he went down the rest of his drink. “Have a good night, Xóchitl. I hope we meet again.” 

___

His chuckle made her smile, and Xóchitl found herself wildly grateful for the pure random happenstance that and brought the two of them together this evening.

Except that he choked on his drink for a moment, and she wondered if she’d made a step too far. But he was just surprised, she was pleased to notice. Surprising him had been her intent, afterall, and so Xóchitl checked another box off in considering this night a win for her. “It is unfortunate, but you know, good for you. I should’ve figured you would be the sort to have someone all your own. Never mind her own complicated feelings about being someone’s, or having someone all her own, but that was a spiral for another time. “She does seem rather perturbed that you’re taking up all my company,” Xóchitl turned and raised an eyebrow at the woman, nodding toward the bar counter. “I’ll let her get me a drink, and I’ll make sure John here behaves. I hope you have a good night too, Lukas. I’m sure we will meet again.”

[balladetto]

showing affection / accepting / @nihlkahn

HAIR, sender brushes offers to brush receiver's hair.

     He tries not to think of it as work, really.

     Looking after yourself shouldn't be a chore when it's care, condensed and personalised, but it's hard to put it any other way when the body demands so much — so often. Hunger does not soften if you can't bring yourself to eat. Exhaustion will cut you down, no matter what awaits you when your eyes shut. Nothing will wait for you to muster the energy to tend to it.

     You leave it for long enough, and it all — unforgivingly — builds up.

     This is mortal work.

     ...Why would a god wanna take part in it?

     Link blinks at nothing, stunned to stillness for a second. Would you like help with that? He turns the words over in his mind, hand tugging on the comb that won't go through the knots he's subjected his hair to after too many days of neglect. It still doesn't budge, so he pulls it out of those locks entirely and spins in his seat to look at the Deity with wide eyes.

     He doesn't think he wants to call the thing that squeezes his heart fear. Shock, maybe, or some similarly-shaped confusion. It's— been a long time since anyone's asked him something like that. Since anyone could.

     It's been longer since he's said yes.

     The quiet holds, hanging over them like shadows from a sinking sun. Link swallows, shoulders stiff, teeth sinking into the inner flesh of his bottom lip. This must all seem very silly. It's just hair. It's just his, and the thought of another touch — the Deity's — brushing through it. It's not like they haven't worked on an idea close to this. He knows what peace can feel like from those hands, even if short-lived. He knows what it is to be unafraid of them, even if for a fraction of a moment.

     ( Above all, he doesn't want to say no. )

     An owl hoots somewhere in the distance. Their campfire crackles as it eats away at another stick. He reaches for the Deity with the hand that holds the wooden comb, sized well for his fingers and sitting comfortably in his palm. Link trusts his companion will treat it with the carefulness it needs from bigger ones.

[mikrokosmcs]

El jardín jamás había resplandecido tanto como ahora, donde la suave brisa del viendo balanceaba las enredaderas y plantas que hizo crecer exclusivamente ese día, todas con flores del mismo color que los iris del emperador. Los felinos como siempre le hacían compañía, aunque ahora preferían estar bajo la sombra y ver cómo el humano iba de acá para allá, acomodando sobre las hojas decoraciones que consiguió con ayuda de los sirvientes o los amigos más cercanos a Junseong, el mismo que aún no terminaba una reunión. Dicen que el tiempo sana las heridas y en este caso así fue: Hanbin logró tocar el del corazón y alma ajena después de meses de reencontrarse, de platicar sobre sus flores favoritas o enseñarle a cómo plantar una con sus propias manos y brindarlo los cuidados básicos, muchas veces terminando con tierra sobre sus ropas de seda o cara, las risas brotando de ambos pares de labios y que se unían en una lluvia de besos gentiles. El dolor y angustia, las noches separados y el dolor en el pecho cuando cruzaban las miradas sin querer ahora son cosa del pasado, uno que no podía ser borrado y lo sabía, su amor no podía cambiar los actos de Junseong ni traer de regreso las vidas que perdió, pero aprendió a recordarlas con cariño, atesorar su vida día a día, a crear nuevos recuerdos con la persona que ama y ahora comprende, que le dejó ser mayores miedos y que le han atormentado durante años.  ‘Había una vez, un niño con el mundo en la palma de sus manos, deslumbrante y fuerte como una estrella pero que quemó todo lo que tenía’ así comenzó el relato a su pequeña rosa, cuando su propio corazón comenzó a sanar y a sonreír genuinamente. ‘Arriesgó su vida en las batallas, buscando más y más poder. La emoción de lo alto fue una larga, cruel y dolorosa caída en desgracia… pero si escuchas de cerca, aún puedes oír al niño en el hombre’ un pequeño e inocente niño, que conoció el sufrimiento en lugar de amor y que poco a poco, comenzaba a nacer mediante la linda sonrisa que el dragón poseía, o cuando sus mejillas se coloreaban levemente ante un tímido besito en la mejilla y los iris parecía brillar aún más. La imagen de Junseong le hace tararear, colocando el pastel en el centro del jardín, en una mesa decorada con cinabrios y cuarzos rosados y una cajita sorpresa, en su interior se ocultaba una pulsera que hecha por él mismo, con dijes de las piedras que los caracterizaban y uno con forma de corazón, que en interior tenía ambos colores juntos. Unos pasos lo alertan, toman el presente y escondiéndole en su espalda, echando un último vistazo a la rosa que relucía contenta junto a las demás flores. “Feliz cumpleaños, mi amor. Me gustaría decir que te regalaría el mundo entero… pero tú lo eres para mí.” Las mejillas se sonrojan y la esencia a jazmín aparece, dando los últimos pasos hasta quedar frente al alto, alzando la mirada por la diferencia de estatura y que el alfa pudiese apreciar sus perlas rosadas llenas de vida otra vez, una que le gustaría compartir a su lado. “Así que por favor, acepta este presente.” Extiende el obsequio con timidez para luego ponerse de puntillas y dejar un beso sobre los suaves y preciosos labios del menor, quedándose cerca del rostro para volver a expresar las palabras que han ido creciendo en su frágil corazón. “Te amo aquí, ahora y lo seguiré haciendo hasta el último de mis días, mi dulce y gentil dragón.”

Su  cumpleaños  nunca  fue  una  fecha  importante,  su  padre  omega  desde  el  primer  momento  en  que  lloró  en  el  mundo  lo  repudió  como  si  fuese  culpable  de  todas  las  fechorías  de  su  padre  alfa  y  este  último,  no  creía  en  celebrar  esa  fecha  de  forma  familiar.  Todas  las  fiestas  que  tuvo  de  cumpleaños  fueron  acercamientos  políticos  con  otros  reinos,  todas  sus  fiestas  fueron  hechas  para  los  adultos  desde  que  tiene  memoria,  desde  que  recuerda  a  su  padre  lastimándolo  más  que  otros  días  luego  de  las  celebraciones  solo  para  que  nadie  pudiese  ver  los  moretones  y  las  heridas  en  su  carne  tierna  e  infantil.  Por  ende,  inclusive  cuando  tomó  control  absoluto  del  reino  y  aledaños,  no  esperaba  felicitaciones  de  ninguno  de  sus  dos  mejores  amigos,  tampoco  de  otros  príncipes  y  reyes  de  reinos  que  se  sentían  más  asustados  por  su  presencia  que  felices  de  que  siga  vivo,  por  ello  es  que  ahora  en  aquella  reunión  solo  hablan  sobre  guerra  y  avances  politos,  sobre  la  retención  de  los  golpes  civiles  y  todas  las  bajas  humanas  que  han  experimentado  en  todos  esos  meses.  Junseong  escucha  y  asiente,  dando  ordenes  y  obligando  a  los  demás  a  retirarse  de  su  vista  porque  tenía  una  cita,  con  la  única  persona  que  alguna  vez  ha  visto  todas  sus  caras  y  lo  ha  adorado  en  cada  una  de  ellas.

Las  botas  resuenan  sobre  el  mármol  de  los  pasillos,  llegando  al  jardín  del  Edén  donde  los  dos  habían  ya  compartido  muchísimas  horas  juntos,  riéndose  de  forma  suave  y  disfrutando  de  la  compañía  del  otro  una  vez  más.  La  angustia  de  los  intentos  de  suicidio,  de  su  propia  violencia  tomando  control  de  él  con  sus  otros  amantes  gracias  a  la  frustración  que  sentía  de  no  poderse  acercar  a  Hanbin,  el  dolor  supurante  y  latente  de  haber  perdido  a  su  primer  cachorro…  todo  eso  parecía  haber  quedado  atrás.  La  pantera  es  la  primera  en  acercarse  a  él,  ronroneando  y  pegando  su  gran  cabeza  contra  el  hombro  del  emperador,  Junseong  lo  acaricia  y  una  sonrisa  suave  se  dibuja  en  sus  labios  cuando  captura  con  sus  ojos  carmín  todo  el  escenario,  las  decoraciones,  el  pastel,  pero  sobre  todo  la  belleza  deslumbrante  del  príncipe  del  cuarzo.  -  —¿Qué  es  todo  esto?  —  -el  ébano  brota  de  él  naturalmente,  sus  manos  antes  de  caer  en  la  cintura  del  otro  van  hasta  el  obsequio  que  le  extiende  y  con  cuidado,  busca  deshacerse  de  las  ataduras  y  observar  la  joyería,  escuchando  la  felicitación  desde  los  labios  del  mayor.  Genuinamente,  debía  esperar  eso  de  Hanbin,  un  chico  que  tuvo  una  infancia  feliz  y  que  seguramente  sus  cumpleaños  eran  lo  más  importante  para  sus  padres.  Junseong  siente  una  opresión  en  el  pecho,  no  era  tristeza,  sino  otra  cosa  que  le  robaba  el  aliento  cuando  vuelve  a  alzar  los  rubies  hasta  los  orbes  rosados,  levantando  la  diestra  para  sostener  su  rostro  y  descender  para  dejar  un  beso.  -  —Tu  eres  el  único  regalo  que  siempre  había  deseado,  lo  que  más  había  querido  en  todo  el  mundo…  —  -no  carece  de  verdad,  porque  lo  raptó  a  él  justamente  por  esa  obsesión  que  sentía.  Pero  Hanbin  realmente  era  todo  lo  que  había  deseado,  amor  sincero,  un  poco  de  atención  genuina,  una  caricia  suave  y  un  beso  de  buenas  noches.  -  —Te  amo  Hanbin…  —  -toca  sus  frentes  juntas,  rozando  su  nariz  con  la  contraria  de  forma  suave,  como  los  lobos  compartían  sus  esencias  en  el  pasado.  -  —Gracias,  mi  rosa,  mi  tesoro  más  grande,  el  amor  de  mi  vida. 

[flockrest]

directly referring to this / @gloryseized

     For all that's changed in these past moon phases ( and wow, is it a lot ), Tulin still starts moulting exactly one whole winter from his last shed feather. It's kinda funny, 'cause being the Sage of Wind can feel like such a grand undertaking that he almost forgets these little things can happen to him. S'not usually something he makes a big deal of, anyway — not when everyone goes through the same thing, asks the same questions, and gives the same ol' answers.

     'Cept this time, over a dinner of seafood curry, when Cree picks up one of his fallen quills to hand back to him with a teasing, "Got anyone special to preen this winter?" — it's not the same ol' answer that comes fresh to Tulin's mind.

     It creeps on him slow, like if a Chuchu knew how to hunt. Fragments of maybe-connected thoughts that emerge so casually as Molli turns to repeat the question, even more teasing-teasing-teasing — then it pounces. Creeping like a Chuchu; hitting him like a lit bomb arrow.

     Maybe he does have someone special to preen this winter. Special enough to wanna give one of his feathers to when he isn't his mum or dad or Molli or Uncle Harth or nest or even, technically, flock.

     Tulin's not sure how to feel 'bout it.

     On one wing — a friend! Stars, a really, really close friend that's special enough to be more, one he's happy to be able to love lots! Happy to have fought with when his home needed it! Happy to continue fighting with now! Happy to have travelled with, and seen an awful lotta awesome stuff with, and done so many impossibly cool things with, and learnt so much from as a warrior and not-a-warrior, and—

     "It sounds like you've already figured out how you 'feel about it', Tulin," Mum gently tells him, in the split second it takes for him to take a breath from all his babbling.

     "So...it's okay?" Some part of him knows he doesn't need to, but he peeks up at her and Dad with a chick's eyes — the ones he swore off of — 'cause he really wants this to be okay. Like, really badly needs this to be okay. "With you guys?"

     Dad smiles real soft, and that's a yes if Tulin ever saw one.

     Turns out, there's a lotta preparations you gotta do before you can invite a Hylian over for a full preening.

     Most of it's the same as preparing to fully preen a Rito — like the collecting, the painting, the dying, and the weaving he leaves to Kido 'cause he wants his cords to look good. But there's also stuff like getting used to a specific hook-and-thread for Hylian hair, and trying to do the same with Hylian hair itself when you don't have any of it just lying 'round for practice.

     Eh. Tulin makes it work.

     By the time his guest of honour finally returns to their peaks, with how fluttery and restless Tulin's gotten, everybody knows to leave their hero be until he's done with him. Which is great! 'Cause, um. It's a while.

     Link's hair feels how it looks. Soft and a little fluffy, a lot thinner and harder to grab at than his own feathers. He ends up using his beak waaaay more than he thought he'd have to, but Link doesn't complain 'bout being preened like a hatchling, so he doesn't think to apologise for it. He chats when he can in between fixing up braids and pulling stupidly fine hair through bead openings, 'bout stuff like what he's been up to, what Link's been up to, did Link know Molli's got another new idea for her arrows, has Link gone to see that pretty, pink tree by the village's entrance, and everything else under the sun shining into the aerie.

     Before he knows it, he's tying off practically the last scrap of real free space left on Link's head with a cinch of his beak. He leans back, sorta tired, but — gazing upon all that he's put into those golden locks, at everything he's saying bright and loud and bombastically clear to everyone who'd bother to look ( and oh, they'd look, alright! ) — with a heart that feels almost worryingly full.

     He can't stop grinning as Hyrule's hero assesses his work. He traces it out with his touch, looks at it this way and that. Tulin doubts Link knows this when nobody's probably sat down and explained it to him, but the colours are important. 'Course they are. And, y'know, he doubts Link knows this even more: but to be given a Rito's quill is to be claimed.

     As flock, yeah, duh.

     As nest, though, too.

     For the one who believed in and took him to do what nobody else could in a time they needed it most; for the one who has given him another amazing something and someone to chase after ever since he was a fledgling; for the one who trusts in and— and loves him enough to sit here for ages and ages and ages 'til he's all done with his preening—

     For Link, it's as his big brother.

     ( "Yeah, you better love it!" Tulin laughs, a joke and earnest sincerity all at once. He returns the, "thank you, thank you," 'cause Link really was sat there for a while without a break — stars know he wouldn't be able to do the same without, like, exploding or something.

     Then Link's hands do something weird.

     T...wind. Huh? Is that...? He tilts his head, the question unvoiced but plainly written all over his beak: what's that s'pposed to mean? )