#you hate flowers cause no one has given you one yes?

[vessalis]

❝ flowers are so overrated. they're bright, gaudy, and almost never make good poisons. ❞ // he's shitting on your roses jack 😔

meme.

❛ Hm? Well truthfully if you are hoping to make poisons out of the flowers, then I'm afraid you are truly looking at the wrong plant. ❜ Not to mention- flowers were more common to be used in efforts to show affection or anything else, truthfully you would be able to convey many emotions simply off the flower language. A topic he did have ... a lot of insight in, either way he still crosses his arms- a small pout forming on his bottom lip as he tilts his head towards the other, ❛ Even if they were good for that- I think you are being much too cruel to flowers ! Tell me- you feel so negative of flowers because no one has given you them, correct? ❜

[reverie-verse]

Azriel x Reader: The Bond of a Century

An old request that I decided to revamp

Request prompt: Can I request an Azriel x reader where the mating bond snaps for Azriel but not the reader? Kind of like how Feyra didn’t know Rhys was her mate till she was told.

My prompt: A bond forgotten for over a century and a half makes its way back to the forefront. All of it starts with Rhys asking for a favor.

This is a fluffy, steamy, angst-ish fic

I hope you enjoy!!!! My requests are open!!!

____________________________

This was the last thing you thought you would be doing for Rhys. Out of all the things, this-this is what he chose for you to do. Rhys had a sick twisted mind that put you in a situation you had no desire of being in or a part of. You mentally cursed at the high lord, hating him in the moment even though he was your dearest friend. Elain scoured the city for certain pots for her plants, and certain seeds for her garden. Azriel right by her side and you trailing behind them. All you wanted to do was to go back to your home near the docks. It was the first home you had when you first moved from Dawn to Velaris less than a century ago, but with some convincing Rhys and Feyre were able to get you to stay at the town house. It was only then did her sisters arrive, and at some point you were put to the task of keeping an eye on Elain with the occasional visit of Az. Honestly you wished you could train with Nesta, but Cassian was chosen for that task. You wouldn’t have minded living in the house of wind-“ I think I need to go to Day Court or maybe Spring, Oh perhaps we can go to Dawn instead. They must have better pots.” Elain speaks more to Azriel than she does you. You were eyeing the various shops, and the people delighted to be around you, each grinning and waving at you. Another beautiful thing about Velaris you’d come to love. People were kind here.

Azriel smiled softly at her “ Of course, if that’s what you want” his voice was tender and sweet. You fought the urge to roll your eyes, turning your attention elsewhere. You hated being there dealing with this shit, but Rhys insisted you tag along, “It’s good for the soul. Get some fresh air” with that insane cat-like smirk. Ooo you shoot daggers into your mind, a deep chuckle echoing in the background.

“ Yes that’s what I want, thank you Az” Elain returned the gesture.

“ Alright then I’ll let Rhys and Feyre know-“ You say as you pinched a flower petal between your thumb and index finger. You looked away from it then back at them. The two watched you with curiosity, you let go of the petal. It was no simple task, an easy reminder of what you needed to do and a simple approval came from Rhys. A gentle poke in your mind causes you to shake your head.“-Let's get this over with” You take steps towards them placing your hands on their arms you effortlessly winnow the three of you to Dawn. The landing was gentle and less sickening, the three of you placed in a Market, one that you were familiar with.. Elain squealed with excitement as she rushed over to an area where she had seen fresh flowers, a few shops down could be seen a pottery shop, the two of you already trailing her.

“ Look at this beautiful bouquet! Y/N? Should we get this for the town house?” She gestures to the bouquet filled with many vibrant colors, various shapes and sizes. You were stumped, she normally doesn’t ask you these questions most of the time they were directed at Az.

“They look lovely Elain, I’m sure they’ll fit anywhere you put them..” You replied not really sure how to respond. Honestly you’ve never really thought about what flowers you liked or didn’t . It wasn’t something that was ever given to you, nor something you found and immediately fell in love with. You didn’t have anything against anyone who knew what they liked, you just-never had the experience of looking forward to your own set of plants. Even when you first attempted gardening most of your plants and flowers died, you simply didn’t have the skill or the eye for it..but that was okay, though on rare occasions it was something you wished you had..

Elain smiles awkwardly “ Well, maybe we can get it, it might brighten up the home. Make it seem more natural..comfortable” She pulls out her coins, handing it to the shopkeeper. The three of you move further heading over to the pottery shop that she explained earlier how she wanted to visit. Your eyes searched the area, checking for predators, anyone who might cause harm to the high lady’s sister, before entering the shop. You had other plans that you needed to attend to while the two looked around, it was in the midst of Elains discussion, mostly to Azriel about the various styles of pottery, that you planned to sneak off. It was only then did a voice capture your attention from behind you.

“ Y/N, I must admit I never pegged as you someone who might be interested in pottery” Thesan, high lord of Dawn, speaks out, the entire shop haunting their work to bow at his presence. He waved his hand dismissing them easily back to work. Azriel positions himself so that he stands near you with Elain behind him, she peers her head out, trying to see who it was that spoke so elegantly. A small smile graces your features at that familiar voice you knew so well as you shifted to face Thesan, who was already grinning. Azriel didn’t miss it, taking note of it.

“What if I was?” You retorted,

“ Then that would be a surprise”

“I hate to burst your bubble High Lord but I’m here on business not for pleasure” You replied, the two of you sharing a small laugh together. Azriel forced his expression into neutrality, Elains eyes sparkled with curiosity and intrigue. Thesan looks behind you for a moment, taking in the Shadowsinger and the woman next to him.

“ Ouch, that one hurt Y/N, I see you brought friends, Shadowsinger” Thesan greets civilly no hate present.

“ Thesan,” Azriel gives a simple head nod in his direction, there was no need for malice, Thesan had always been a great friend of Rhys’s and now apparently yours. Though a feeling crept inside his chest, this odd feeling takes root, Azriel does his best to shove it away, especially with Elain right next to him..

“ And you must be Elain, one of the sisters of High Lady Night.”

“ Yes I am. It’s a pleasure to meet you” Elain smiles with a blush that creeps along her cheeks. She wasn’t sure how to respond being that a high lord, whom she never met knew she existed. The surrealness of the situation becomes a reality, the more she realizes how well known her sister is, how well known both of her sisters are including herself. A delighted yet astonishing experience for her, something she wasn’t used to yet.

“ Same to you, i hope you don’t mind if I borrow Y/N for a moment or two, there’s somethings I’d like to discuss” Thesan offered but secretly it was a meeting that needed to take place. You were in fact here on business, something that Rhys specifically shared with you and no one else. Dawn used to be your home, but when you were moved to Velaris, you became the seg way for Dawn and Night. Your job was to be the emissary for both sides, keeping the courts relationship in even better shape. You missed your home dearly at times, and you missed Thesan whom you were extremely close too, and who you cared about, even with this being only for business there was some pleasure that came out of it.

“ No of course not, I’m sure she could use a break from us, right Azriel?” Elain looks up to him but his eyes were trained on you and Thesan. You were ready to join him without so much as another word, it struck a nerve in him, why? What could possibly be the topic of conversation between you two? Why do you only need to speak with him? Surely Rhys would’ve told him what this meeting was about? Why hadn’t you come to him for advice or as a second set of ears? Why was the meeting a secret?-“Azriel?”Elain calls out to him, you were looking at him suspiciously, your eyebrows furrowed, your eyes flickering across every part of his face and bodily language. Azriel adjusts himself, shielding off whatever thoughts or feelings he harbored in the moment. He blinks, his eyes drift back to Elain then back to you and Thesan “ Go ahead, we’ll be here in the shop if you need us, we leave in about two hours”

“ Alright then I will have my men escort the two of you back to my palace.” Thesan replied, You eased the questioning look off your face, you shift back towards Thesan, the two of you walking out of the shop, the conversation immediately flowed. He could see the smile on your face, and yet again the melodic sound of laughter that left your lips. The high lords' guards remained in place while Azriel and Elain both continued their shopping. However, that didn’t stop him from taking one last look out the door.

When the two hours were up, Azriel and Elain were guided securely to the Palace where he’d find you and Thesan walking along the hall. Thesan stopped in his tracks grabbing your arm, it forces you to halt in place, your body halfway facing him. His mouth moves but Azriel can’t hear what he’s saying, he lifts a hand to your face gently swiping at your cheek. He removes his hand, pulling you gently into a tight embrace. Azriel could see the way you held onto him tightly, as if you dared to let go. The two of you stayed in that position for a few moments until you both eventually pulled away. Why were you crying? Were you hurting? Were they happy tears? Did he say something to you? What was it? There were too many emotions to pinpoint, Azriel’s chest continued to tighten at the emotions he felt. You left Thesans' side offering him one last smile, but that smile fades, when you approach them.

“It’s time, are you ready?” You ask softly, your demeanor changed, a bit relaxed but a heavy weight stays on your shoulders. You roll them back, adjusting yourself. Azriel watches you with such careful eyes, you paid no mind, your thoughts elsewhere.

“ Yes-“ Elain starts but her gaze flickers back and forth between you both. For Elain it was rather odd to see the two of you interact, when she had met you, your relationship with Azriel was already thin, you were distant with him compared to everyone else. Elain assumed that your relationship had always been like that, but now she wasn’t so sure..

“ Are you alright?” Azriel asks you, his hand twitches slightly, part of him restrains himself, the other yearned to reach out for you. But you were quick to recover, offering him a reassuring smile.

“ Yeah I’m fine, let’s go.” You placed your hands on both of them, winnowing them back to the town house. There Nuala and Cerridwen greeted the three of you. Nuala took the pots out of Elains hands, Cerridwen took the flowers and placed them in another vase. Elain begins gushing about the journey to Dawn, how gorgeous it was..You sighed exhausted leaving the space quietly to head to your own room. Azriel was about to follow you when Elain called for his help in the kitchen. Azriel hesitated staring up at the staircase. Why couldn’t he just talk to you? He’s a Shadowsinger, a spymaster, and he can pry details out of anyone but you. All he can feel is your emotions-your emotions... Elain had pulled Azriel from his thoughts as she hugged a pot to herself.

“Az? Are you coming?” She says as she waits for him to follow her to the garden. Again he hesitates but he feels a stirring in his chest. Azriel lifts up a hand instinctively touching it, a sharp sensation could be felt beneath his chest. It couldn’t be? Could it? Azriel’s eyes widen, Elain takes a breath “ I’ll be outside Az when you’re ready-“ Azriel moves his feet faster than his mind could process, he was out of the town house door, his wings pushing him off the ground shooting him into the sky, he needing some time to think..

___

The moons at its highest peak, your curtains flowing with gentle breeze that filtered through your bedroom. The candles and lights burnt out signaling that you were asleep, that was until you heard a creak in the floorboard, and the atmosphere changed, a darker presence filled the space. You were lying on your stomach, your hands slipping beneath the pillow as you grip the handle of the blade you’ve hidden beneath it. You felt the figure stop just before your bed frame, you could hear them bend down towards your face. As they reached for you, you swiftly reached out a free hand grabbing them, you flipped them onto the bed, rolling over pinning them down with your blade tucked against their neck in the most vulnerable area.

“ It’s only me” He whispers, the lights in the room reaching a dim hue, illuminating the area.

“ Jeez Az, I could’ve killed you” You replied tiredly, you pulled back the blade placing it on the end table. Azriel’s eyes followed your movement above him, your hips and legs straddling him, your hair in an unruly nature, from slumber. The candles hue amidst the room, caresses your face, your bare legs, your skin making it appear warm to the touch. You had worn a tunic that wasn’t yours, it hugged loosely around your body frame. The tunic looked oddly familiar to Azriel but then again he wasn’t so sure. All he wanted to do was rip whoevers tunic that belonged to, off of your body and replace it with his.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you-” He apologizes,”-I have one question I’d like to ask you” Azriel whispers, as he watches your facial expression twitch into a sleepy confusion.

“This couldn’t wait till morning?” You sighed as your hand moved to rub the sleep from your face. You remove yourself from him, you slip off the bed but not before Azriel caught your wrist. He shifts himself so that he sits up lifting himself off the bed. He towers over you, the candle's glowing light touches his features in a way that it could come off intimidating, but there was a more intimate, soft, texture that made him appear more angelic.

“ No I’m afraid not.” He admits.

You nod your head” What’s your question?”

“ How long have you known about the bond?”Azriel’s voice low, as if to test the waters but enough to plunge himself. He needed answers and after speaking with Rhys, it was his right.

“ What?” Your face dropped, your skin becoming clammy as nervousness passes through you, sleepiness evades you.

“ You heard me, answer the question” his eyes switch between both of yours, searching and evaluating. He tried to pinpoint every emotion you felt, he tried to feel you through, the only thing stopping him was- you.

“ It's not that simple-” You shook your head, pulling your wrist out of his hold. You weren’t prepared for this, you weren’t ready to unravel all that you worked so hard to ignore.

“ It is that simple” Azriel continued to pry, he didn’t need the bond to notice how uncomfortable and painful this topic was for you-it was news to him, he wanted the truth..no lies no games only the truth

“ No, it’s not. It’s complicated-“ You looked away from him moving to the other side of the room. You couldn't find the words to explain this situation, your reasoning. What if what you told him set him off? What if this ruins everything between your friendships? The alliance that has been created? So many thoughts and questions, never enough answers…but for Azriel you did have an answer to his question..

“ Complicated enough for you to leave.” It was then that feeling in your chest, it builds a thick pressure. A heavyweight on your shoulders, the air almost sucked out your lungs. “ Is that what you told Rhys when you were packing your bags?” You couldn’t breathe, Azriel’s footsteps followed you till he was right behind you. You faintly feel the pulse of his surprise and his anger, as if it was your own, but it had been so long since you’d tapped into the bond. You had spent a century ignoring it, shielding it, and now, it was muscle memory..

“ Don’t make me do this..” You whispered out, a silent plea to move on, to let this go.

“ You knew, and yet you decided not to tell me” His voice held a deep frustration, a deep want and need. He wasn’t going to give up, he had a way with finding out the truth..

“ That’s-not what happened..” You were again stumped with words, torn between giving in or lying, torn between running away or staying..

“ No? Then what happened?” He continues to look down at you, you refuse to meet his gaze. Azriel doesn’t take no for an answer moving towards the front. He stands in front of you. His smell, his faint emotions from the bond slowly consuming you. It surrounds you, his shadows dance along the edges of the room, waiting, watching, whispering.

“ Az-” You warned him, it was another weak attempt to fight him off. But he continued to poke, to pull, to pry, to grasp at anything you’d give him. You were tired, exhausted, hiding your emotions, your thoughts, your protected heart and mind bound to collapse, all secrets were meant to escape..

“ I want the truth, Y/N-”. You took a deep breath, your nerves running a mile a minute. His own anxiousness was replaced with a demanding thirst for the truth. A truth that belonged to him too. You’ve kept this wonderful secret to yourself, he watched as his own family found mates that paired well with them. Watching as their life finds the pieces to the puzzle it was missing. Deep down he wanted that very same thing. He felt as though he may not deserve it but he craved it, to be loved unconditionally… “-You owe me that much”

You sighed, your heart shattering, you gave in, you really hadn’t planned too but the look in his eyes-, “..Before Amarantha began her reign, Rhys made an offer to Thesan to let me stay in Velaris, as an emissary between the courts. It was then that I found out that we were mates… It was then that the deal was made.“

“All these years and you kept this to yourself, why?” His eyebrows furrowed.

“ Because I knew you were in love with Mor. I wasn’t going to take that from you. But I did wait for you, I waited a long time. But when it became an achingly slow desperation, I gave up. I practiced silencing the bond, so I couldn’t feel the emotions you felt when you were around other-women..romantically and lustily I mean. Then Elain came around and it was the same process. I’m exhausted, Azriel. I can’t keep doing this”

“ You didn’t bother to try! You’re running back home because you never thought to ask how I might’ve felt!” His jaw tenses, his head slightly tilted to the side, his frustration grows, at this notion of forcing the information out of you, when you should’ve let it happen, when you should’ve told him..

“ I didn’t because I wanted you to come to your own conclusion. I wanted it to be as natural as possible but you were so invested in Mor and Elain and I’m not one to take you away from that. But I also miss the people I care about, I miss my old home-It’s time for me to go-” You protested.

“ What does Rhys think of this?” Azriel jaw twitches.

“ He was the one who encouraged me to speak with Thesan-“

“ Is that what the discussion was between the two of you?” He presses.

“ Yes but-“ You attempt to defend yourself.

“ Y/N, what exactly did you say to him?” Azriel wanted every detail, every version of this story, of his story, of his mates-his mate.

“ I didn’t- I didn’t say anything. I asked if I could return home, and he told me that I should stay here, that if I truly wanted to come home then he’d considered it.” Your heart leaps into your throat, you swallow it back, the feeling collecting.

“ His answer wasn’t even a Yes” Azriel’s scoffs shaking his head, his hands on his hips as he looks at the floor and then away at the window.

“ Yes- but it’s my decision-“ You looked up at him, watching his movements carefully.

“ No it’s not, you’re not going back there.” He challenged, his eyes find their way back to yours.

“ You can’t decide that.” You tell him, the two of you hurting by the weight of your decision. Azriel’s own heart squeezes painfully, at how easy it was for you to say those words to him. You were his, he wasn’t going to let you just walk away, not without fighting for you.

“ Why not? You’d already decided to keep this to yourself regardless of how I felt” He takes a step forward his arms falling back down to his side.

“ Azriel please listen to me-“ You tried to reason, you tried to find a way to break through, he wasn’t thinking straight, you weren’t thinking straight, neither one of you.

“ No you listen, all those years, all those centuries, you were my friend, and you were someone who loved me. Loved me enough to sacrifice what you felt so I could find happiness. In the depths of my mind I have fought and searched for you without realizing that you were here in front of me..I was too blind to see it. ” His hands flew to your face, your jaw, cupping it, his thumbs grazing your cheekbones. Your hands follow suit as your fingers grip his wrists. His shadows remove themselves from the dark corners of your room, shooting out to tangle around your wrists, not to pull your hands away but to hold you there in place. “ Please don’t run from me” He whispers, his forehead dipping down to rest on yours. His hands slide from your cheeks to the sides of your neck.

“ Az-I can’t stay” You replied quietly, your hands pulling at his wrists weakly at his. You both knew that you could take him down easily, but at this moment in time the two of you were struggling. The tension grew thick in the air. A sort of sharp feeling intensifies, the faded familiarity that was the bond, solidifies. You thought that you had successfully mastered the art of blocking the bond but no. Azriel must’ve truly accepted it, a different feeling takes over, Azriel hums at the feeling. You sucked in a breath.

“ You can’t leave without knowing I’ve accepted the bond” His nose brushes against yours. You shook your head once more, completely pushed Azriel away. Your hands fly to your head, your fingers tangling in your hairs. You wanted nothing more than to curl into yourself, this was too surreal, too overwhelming. You’d spent so long, alone, and working, on occasions waiting. Now you were uncertain, even more than you had been hours ago. Azriel could feel your indecisiveness, he just needed to bring you back to him.

Azriel followed you, he pulled your hands from your hair, one of them he placed on his chest, his heart beating beneath it, you couldn’t look at him. But you could feel the gentleness, the love that flowed through him into you. “ My heart, my soul belongs to you” he tries again. You could feel your body sag at the feeling of comfort. It was so intense and welcoming. You wanted to wrap yourself in it-but you fought it, you were so used to the fighting, the restraint, the self control. “Let go” His voice reaches into the depths of your mind, into your soul, calling out to you.

You placed your forehead on his chest, your hand leaving the area above his heart. Azriel’s wings moved to surround you, his shadows moved to get to you, tangling themselves in your hair, caressing your face and hands. They speak to you wishing you nothing but love and happiness. They bring you comfort, your eyes fluttering shut.

“ Y/N” Azriel calls out. You could feel his hands cupping your face once more tilting it upwards, his breath light. You could feel how close he was, Azriel was right there, all he needed to do-Az’s lips crashed down onto yours, so soft, and yet his kiss held all his desperation, his passion. He couldn’t hold back, not with you, not when he loved you so. You weren’t surprised, in fact you hadn’t realized how much you yearned for his touch, his kiss. Azriel turns his head to the side deepening the kiss, a quiet moan slips out. By the cauldron Azriel loved to hear that sound, he wanted to hear it again, and again, and again. For as long as he lived and breathed.

You were putty in his hands, the feeling of his touch, his thoughts, his emotions was putting you in overdrive. Your mind couldn’t comprehend nor catch up to the pace in which things were happening. Azriel lets go of your lips for a brief moment, allowing you a chance to breathe, a whimper and the need for air also escapes your lips. Azriel had to fight the urge to keep himself from taking you right then and there. You had the urge to let him do it, you placed your hands on his chest pushing him back a step. You couldn’t think with him in your space, Azriel wasn’t going to budge, but with the way you were so caught up and caught off guard, he let you take a second.

“Okay-“ You breathed out. Azriel’s eyes light up, a smile threatens to break out. “ I-um-“ You cleared your throat,”Uh-I-I accept the bond..” you whispered the last part. Azriel’s heart gave a squeeze of joy, his chest filled with lightness, with happiness and relief. All he had ever hoped for had finally come to fruition. A twinkle of mischief sparks in his eyes, a smirk finds its way onto his beautiful features.

“ What was that?” He asks, yet you squint your eyes at him, you know he heard, he knows he heard you, but he wanted you to say it again. “-I didn’t quite hear you” You bit the inside of your cheek still squinting at him. You sighed, your body began to relax, your facial expressions changing to that of a sheepishness. You were struggling to admit it, Azriel waited for you patiently.

“ I-“

“ Yes?”

“ Az” You raised your eyebrows at him, as if to say I’m trying here.

“ I’m sorry, please go on.” He encourages you.

You sighed as you tried again this time “ I accept the bond-” You are much more confident and certain. “I’ve loved you since I’ve known you. You were right, my heart and soul belongs to you-“Azriel couldn’t contain himself much longer as took you into his arms and spun you around. A victorious grin graced both of your features, and for once the weight of the world didn’t feel so heavy in your chests. You gave a light hearted giggle, your heart swooning. Azriel places you back on the ground. You smiled brightly, the twinkle reaching your eyes. “This is happening?” You asked out loud, you searched for clarification.

“ Yeah it is” Azriel let go grabbing your hand pulling you towards the window. You tilted your head to the side, a sweet smile on your lips, a playful yet teasing expression stretches onto Azriel’s face. “Do you trust me?” his hand extends outward.

“ Yes.” You lift your hand to place it into his, this time a new height sense fills both your bodies. The touch feels like a loving hum on your skin. Your minds, your souls, finally resting after all the searching that it had done. You place your hand in his, he guides you out of the window onto the terrace of the town house. You followed him blindly, willingly. Azriel stood taller in the moonlight, and the stars above shining, his shadows nowhere to be found, it was just him. “ Az wait- Elain-“

“She knows, and I’m sure she will be upset with me, but she has Lucien..She doesn’t need me.” He nods. You watch him closely, as you slowly lift a hand to caress his cheek, the touch sweet and warming. Azriel instinctively leans into your touch, turning his head slightly to kiss the palm of your hand.

“ I’m sorry” You whispered, you realized that you may have ruined a friendship for him, a little bit more than a friendship..

“ No I’m sorry” he replies as he takes you back into his arms, the sounds of the city's music playing amongst the trees, the flowers, the plants, the night sky seeming more inviting, more alive. All Azriel knew was in this moment in time he finally understood the accept of the bond, the waiting, the calling, you had always been there waiting for him, you gave him time, space, anything he needed to figure himself out..All those times he spent with other women- then it dawned on him, had you done the same? You chuckled upon feeling that jealous emotion. “ Who’s tunic are you wearing?”

“ Az, it’s yours”

“ What-“ You peel yourself out of his arms.

“ This tunic you let me borrow on a mission we had, remember? Court of nightmares? I was stuck in a brothel, I ended up fighting my way out, my clothes were completely shredded?” You offered bits and pieces of the memory, Azriel’s takes a moment to recollect and it hits him.

“ Yes I remember, you ate a bowl of soup that night at one of the hostels. You hated it,” He chuckled as he remembered the disgusted look on your face. You laughed alongside him. You moved to head back towards your room but Azriel was quick to catch your hand.

”Where are you going?”

“Um-to make you something, we still have to seal the bond.”

“ Not here”

“ Then where?” Azriel grins as he throws one of your arms around his neck, one catches your back the other catches your knees.

“ Somewhere private, where I can have you all to myself, no distractions, just you and me” He whispers to you, his face dipping closer to yours, you sucked in a small breath, the blood beneath your skin singing, practically humming. His arms tightened their hold on you pressing you as flush to him as possible. Azriel looks away and upwards towards the night sky, his wings strong as they help push the two of you off the ground. Excitement filled the air, the night, seemed sweeter, less stuffy, inviting. You guessed that Thesan was right for making you stay here, to reconsider, you were thankful that he pointed you back in the direction of your mate. Azriel was happy that his brother fought for his love, fought for him to find happiness. It was more than just two courts keeping a civil peace, it was about two souls that needed to find each other, even if it takes a century.

[phoenixeclipse-lmkau]

Cursed Warlords AU - Chapter 4 - Boat Ride

With you passed out, Spirit has no choice but to carry you along the trail to get to the village you all were heading to. Too bad there was something in the way.

Wukong had to admit, the woman who had so carelessly claimed him and his mate as if they were mere animals was quite… relaxing when she was asleep. Her presence was peaceful and calm, her body was warm to the touch. It was coming from her, he was sure of that. It wasn’t from the monkey demoness that was so rude to him and his mate.

*Chirp*

Turning he looked over at his mate who was sitting on her other shoulder, tail wrapped slightly around her neck for support and his chin on top of her head. They would have both sat on one of her shoulders but their forms even this small were much to big for that. Looking at his mate so tiny was weird, with everything that was happening he hadn’t had time to just look at his mate.

‘What are you staring at?’ Macaque chirped curiously.

‘You look better normally,’ Wukong chirped back receiving a rather offended chirp in response.

The two chirped back and forth for a while, they were both rather surprised when Spirit didn’t really react to the chirps they were giving. She silently walked through the forest, expertly weaving her way through the trees and bushes. Her gaze steadfast towards whatever village she had mentioned before.

‘This is slower than I thought it would be,’ Wukong chirped in irritation after a while.

Macaque looked at him, snuggling his head into your hair as he did, ‘still faster than the curse would let us go.’

Wukong hated that he was right. The very thought of the curse that was set upon them sends an absolute fury straight through his very body. Once he finds out who is responsible for this mess, he will be sure to rip them limb from limb. His tail tightened around your shoulder where he secured it to keep himself steady.

“Monkeys,” Spirit spoke up causing both of the monkeys to look at her, as best they could from behind her. They both chirped to let her know that they were listening. Wukong didn’t like this one, not one bit but until he had his full power back there wasn’t much either him or Macaque could do about her.

“We are going to get to a village by sundown. You will both be on YOUR BEST BEHAVIOR, if not I don’t care if Reader likes you two. I will throw you out of our group,” She explains calmly, her voice dead serious as she explains her plan.

Wukong had to stop himself from snapping at her or clawing at her hair. She didn’t want them around that was clear enough but for her to be so heartless to cubs!? He felt his mate’s tail curl around his arm that was closest to him. He glanced to his violet eyes and chirped in reluctant acceptance. When he got free, this demoness was going to regret crossing him.

Maybe it would be better if they left, maybe they could get home by themselves without needing this mortal’s help. If anyone found out a human helped him… actually nothing would happen if he already has his true form back by then. After all who would be stupid enough to cross him and his mate?

His attention was soon drawn to the mortal, her breathing was becoming ragged and her face was getting rather red. Was it normal for human’s to become like this? Meh, it didn’t bother him any what happened to this kind woman meant nothing to him. She was just another human that he would one day kill. The thought of killing her didn’t sit well in his stomach as he thought about it. Maybe they’d let her live as a reward for her helping them, let her live as a slave on Flower Fruit Mountain for them. She had given them food, a kitchen slave would work. Yes that would work perfectly.

There were no other humans on their island. The fear that she would have for them once she realized who they were the whole time would be damn near addicting. His thoughts wandered to the fear he constantly set into all mortals alike. He wandered how his mate would think of his plan, after all he was a very selfish and territorial mate. Not that he was much different.

His thoughts were broken when Spirit stopped, in front of a large river. Her tail slowly swung behind her rather angrily as she growled at the obstacle. Looking around she scanned for some sort of bridge or rock path that she could use to get across. Eventually her eyes caught sight of a boat with a single man sitting in it.

“Great, I have to glamour myself,” She grumbled, closing her eyes she allowed a glamour to build around her.

Her fur vanished, peachy skin replacing the fur rather quickly. Her tail vanished and her ears shrunk until she looked like a regular human. Her light grey white eyes slowly turning a light blue as she made her way over to the boat.

Wukong growled as they approached, purely hating the fact that they were heading straight towards a human. He hated how he wasn’t able to simply fly across the river on his cloud, he hated how he was so small and so fucking weak! Feeling his mate’s tail tighten slightly he grumbled again.

“Oh my, is your friend okay!?” The man on the boat practically yelled causing Macaque to wince at the sound before hiding his head close to your neck, his ears would be a dead give a way who he was. That thought brought another with it, how had neither you or Spirit recognized them. Surely you should have noticed his six ears, after all of this.

“I don’t know, she passed out just a little ways ago,” Spirit explained with a worried look across her now human face.

"Let me look at the girl," the man replied walking up, but jumped back at the sight of the two furry monkeys on your shoulders.

"Please do. I don't know what to do. And don't mind the cubs. They're harmless," Spirit assured the man calmly as she closed the distance so he could actually look at you.

The man winced at her words. Especially when Peaches growled just following her words. He did surprisingly avoid them while also taking a good look at your face, you had dark circles under your eyes which was the first thing he took note of.

"If I may ask, when was the last time that she slept?" he asked.

The only response he got was a dumbfounded look and silence. Spirit looked at him like what he said blew her mind, it clearly appeared that she truly didn’t know when she had slept. Glancing to the side she finally muttered.

Her words were kind of quite as she spoke, “Does it matter?”

The man’s eyes widened before blinking in surprise. He stared at her for a long moment as a look of realization crossed his face. Wukong and Macaque knew that kind of look, the fear that crossed over his face. He knew she wasn’t human, well that was one of the poorest disguises that they have ever heard of.

Noticing how he backed away in fear Spirit let out a loud sigh. Wukong wanted to laugh at her frustration, serves her right for being so rude.

“I mean no harm. I just need to help my friend, now what do I need to do if she didn’t sleep?” She asked, her teeth gritting together as she stood there trying not to scare the man. Damn, how many demons passed through her for him to recognize that she wasn’t human so fast?

“D-Don’t hurt me,” He responded quickly, damn, he wasn’t listening like at all.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” She replied only to realize that he wasn’t at all convinced. Releasing another heavy sigh she added, “If you help me. Now tell me what I need to do to make sure this human woman doesn’t die on me.”

The man’s eyes widened at her words. He looked absolutely petrified but slowly and shakily began to reply. “She needs to sleep, drink water and eat food. It would also be wise to get her some shelter, without protection from the weather she can get sick.”

“Great, now where is there somewhere I can let her sleep?” Spirit asked hoping to not scare him.

“T-There’s an inn in the town at the other side of the river,” He pointed to the village but as soon as he did seemed to realize that he would have to help her across the river.

Wukong let out a low growl, he hated water. He hated water due to his stone body, he sunk every single time. Macaque sensing or rather hearing his growl tightened his tail around his arm trying to calm him down. He didn’t want to go across the water.

“Hush Peaches,” Spirit muttered before walking towards the boat. “Sir if you can help me across the river we will not have any more interactions.”

“A-Alright…” The man stuttered out quickly rushing over to the boat hoping to get this over with as soon as possible.

Wukong scoffed at the sight, he looked like a helpless little human. He would be easily crushed beneath his heel if he had his body back, the fear in his eyes would have been the last sight he would see if he had chosen to kill him. But now… now with this damned body! He tensed at the very thought of how truly defenseless he was.

A groan next to him cut his thoughts off. He along with Macaque turned to you who slightly shifted, scrunching your eyes as if you were about to wake. However you didn’t wake up as you panted softly as if it was harder to breath. Wukong wanted to growl at that, maybe he and Macaque should just leave and save them from the headache of this woman. They were going to stay in an inn for who knows how long because you passed out.

‘We should just leave these two as soon as we cross the river,’ Wukong chirped. He patiently waited for his mate’s reply though it was hard when all he wanted was his answer.

Macaque remained silent for a few minutes. He didn’t speak as Spirit adjusted herself forcing both monkeys to move so she could settle you onto her lap instead of her back. He stared at you for a minute, then at Spirit, and then looked back at his mate.

‘Yeah, we should leave after we get passed the river. It’s doubtful that they will be of any more use to us,’ he finally chirped back as he sat down slightly behind Spirit’s arm, mostly to hide himself as he didn’t want to get thrown overboard if someone were to suspect him.

Wukong grinned when he got that response. He wouldn’t have to deal with this annoying demoness anymore. He and Macaque could get back home on their own, they didn’t need anyone’s help at all. Swishing his tail he hopped over next to his mate and curled up knowing he had to wait for this ride to be over with before they could do anything else.

I hope to hear everyone’s thoughts on the newest post! Admittedly it took longer than I had planned to finish it but hey that’s fine. I love to read comments and asks about this AU! If you have questions shoot them my way! Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed!

Masterpost

Part 5 - The Village

[7ndipity]

Dating Namjoon headcanons

Warnings: swearing, suggestive, teeny bit of angst

A/N: I realized that I hadn't written anything for Joon in a hot minute, so let's change that, shall we?

Masterlist

Requests are open

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Dating Namjoon feels like one of those early 2000s romance movies.

Utterly frustrating but soo worth it.

He talks a lot of hype in his songs, but I think when he first meets someone he's really into, he's a fucking mess.

Like it's Joon, but it's Joon, you know what I mean?

Red ears, stumbling over his words(and feet), getting flustered every other sentence.

Probably walked into a wall while distracted talking to you.

Don't get me wrong tho, once he gets the butterflies to chill and gets comfortable, the rizz is BACK and in full force.

Big on eye contact

Stares at you with absolute heart eyes(if you've seen that clip of him watching Hobi from Bon Voyage, you know what I'm talking about)

But can flip the switch in the blink of an eye, and be looking at you like he's gonna eat you alive(we love a duality king)

Simp Romantic. Will randomly bring you flowers just cause he was thinking about you(but he's always thinking about you, so why was today any different?)

Writes soo many songs/lyrics about you, but rarely tells you about them directly. He just asks if you wanna hear something he's been working on, and then sits back and watches your faves as you catch the hidden meanings and references. At the end, he's just sitting there, grinning, asking "You like it?"

(Like, yes, I like it you fucking dork!)

Always remember important dates like birthdays and anniversaries( first date, first kiss, everything)

Museum and bookstore dates are a given.

Buying/sharing books with you is probably one his favorite forms of intellectual intimacy, because, for him, each one is a glimpse into your mind.

If you mention one of your favorite titles and he hasn't read it, he's gonna find it asap.

Would try to get you to workout with him and be gym buddies.(I don't know if I like or hate that idea tho?)

Random texts at 1am asking if you're up and wanna hang out?(may or may not be outside your place already, cause he's over-eager and forgot to text earlier)

Endless, late night talks about everything from music to the meaning of life to what jelly bean flavor is superior(it's watermelon)

Also random trips together. Could be to the beach, could be to Sweden, who knows? You bring out his spontaneity and are one of the only people who can get him to take a vacation anyway.

He is a workaholic though, so you have to look out for him sometimes, make sure he eats, sleeps, touches grass, etc.

You probably bicker and butt heads a lot, but y'all make sure it never gets out of hand and try to find a solution.

(Lowkey possessive, but won't admit it)

Not a fan of pda, but he *clings*.

He tries to be subtle about it, but fails because it's like there's a gravitational pull between the two of you from the way he's constantly within arm's reach wherever you are.

Same goes for when you're alone. He's not technically cuddling you, but he always somehow ends up pressed to your side or back, or has a hand on you in some way.

Another member of the 'Protective Squad'. Like, if anyone so much as looks in your direction the wrong way, he's got the death glare locked on them.

Pretty classic when it comes to nicknames for you. Things like 'honey', 'baby', 'jagi'. Adds 'my' in front of any of them when he's in the mood to fluster you.

Which reminds me, he is the BIGGEST FUCKING TEASE ISTG.

He knows exactly what riles you up, and then just gives you these soft, sweet little kisses like you're not about to combust. Has the nerve to then smirk and call you needy(I wanna fight him)

Finds the most random things you do attractive. The way you read. The way you make your coffee. The weird little face you make when your flipping through Netflix.

Although he seems a bit cautious, I actually think a relationship with him might move pretty fast. Like, he's fighting back from asking you to move in with him after five or six months type of fast.

Lives for domesticity with you.

Quiet, sleepy mornings together. Messy hair and glasses over tired eyes, resting against your shoulder as he brings you coffee while you cook breakfast.

I know he said he's not sure abt kids anymore, but I do see him possibly getting a pet with you to 'round out the household'. Something quiet and low maintenance though, like a couple hermit crabs.(would probably name one after a favorite artist/author and then name the other smth random like 'blue')

Again, I don't know how to end these. Just love him, please.

[accio-victuuri]

a part of this may have been washed already, who cares lol. that won’t stop us from doing some mental gymnastics to make it sweet cause it’s all cpn anyway. for me, i’m already happy with their unintentional ( or is it? ) couple outfit at the airport. and yibo wearing a shirt that says “sporty & rich” which is well — a fact. lol. and feeds into the whole “young master” vibe that fans are seeing with him lately.

take this as an exercise on how clowning works. and once we get more information, it gets “washed” or feel free to take what you want. this is related to xz’s post on weibo. i love analyzing his posts because it’s personal and i feel like it gives us more clues. the first thing will be the gorgeous flower arrangement. 💐

i was thinking maybe it was his drama wrap-up bouquet, but we didn’t get to see it in the bts.

the choice is interesting because it combines flowers and that same ( i forgot what it’s called sorry ) red/circular things we saw years back. that has it’s own cpn/backstory that i discussed here. basically, that’s not his bouquet from the OOL team when the show wrapped but that’s the photo (p1) that he shared. so we think it’s from Bobo. and now he shared (p4) that has lots of very expensive flowers. the other arrangement on his post was from Tod’s and looked more appropriate for Dragon Boat Festival. but this one looks more romantic if i do say so myself.

and the rose (juliet) given is esspensive!!! who could it be from? a certain sporty and rich guy? ���😏😏

next is the damn plate with the fancy bite of zongzi. this one is what i think has been given some explanation ( washing ) from what we initially thought.

so we know xz is mister “centered” photos and everything. so it was weird that the one he shared is not. add the other element of it not being the same size etc meaning it was taken via wechat camera and probably sent off. another point is, we think it was taken by someone else. someone whose shadow gets included in photos he takes (p3 = yibo).

so is yibo sending what he is eating abroad? i mean it looks fancy!

but the people tracked down where this is from. it’s something that’s available at the blvgari hotel in shanghai. but you know what, if you still wanna clown that xz sent this to bobo and shared with all of us— then feel free 🤡🤡🤡🤡

the last one i find cuteeee cause remember when xz went abroad and he was wearing GUCCI re-web shoes? I swear even toxic solos picked up on that and hated on him. now you have WYB going abroad and wearing rolex DAYTONA ( very close to DAYTOY. yes i know he collect rolex watches like nikes but it’s a nice coincidence.

bonus, another closer look at their couple outfit. the shoes. look. I can’t. 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

[onskepa]

Helllooo, could I get a Rapunzel AU fic? In this universe Spider would be the rapunzel of the story, he gets stolen from his family, the Sullies, at a young age (he was adopted by Jake and Neytiri a couple of months after his dad’s death, although he really isn't) Quaritch would be the mother gothel of this AU, keeping Spider in a tower because his magic hair is what is helping him keep being alive. Then Loak would be like Flynn, but in this case a prince going through a rebellious phase, so he stills his older brother crown ( he doesnt really know Spider, cause he was a baby when he was kidnapped) his thief name is “Tulkun” and his partners in crime are Lyle and Z-Dog.

Quite the intersting idea I gotta say, none the less! I hope you enjoy this one!

---------------

Our sun

The sun gives life to all, brings warmth and comfort. With its bright radiant light, it guides everyone to their path. Brings happiness and provides. A great gift humanity has ever gotten. For centuries, humanity has shown their gratitude in many ways. Praising, worshiping, believing the sun is their god. 

A god that is powerful and strong. The Omatikaya kingdom knows that better than anyone in the world. Festivals, sigils, legends, their symbol of the kingdom, all were dedicated to their sun. 

For centuries the kingdom has never wavered their belief in the sun. Remaining strong and true. Always grateful and never greedy. And so, the sun god who was also grateful for the people the sun provides to, believes they deserve a gift. 

A drop of sunlight fallen from the sky has touched the Earth. Gifting the king and queen of the Omatikaya their beautiful sunshine child. 

That is what the story says of course. 

“He is beautiful…” Jake Sully, King of the Omatikaya kingdom, gently coos at his believed son. Beside him was his queen, his love, and mother of their golden child, neytiri. 

“He is perfect,” Neytiri smiles as she rubs her nose gently against their sons button nose. He gives light giggles in satisfaction. Their son, their beloved child. A gift from the sun. His beautiful golden curly hair, bright blue eyes that can rival the sky. And his smile, so radiant and infectious. Their son, the kingdom's golden prince. 

Wrapped in the finest silk with embroidery intricately designed to that of the sun. The young baby was very much  snuggled in great comfort. 

“My lord, my lady, it is time” tsu’tey, their closest friend and top chief of the Omatikaya army, tells them. 

“Come on, we dont want to keep our people waiting” jake gently leads his wife towards the top balcony that oversees their people. 

“Yes my love, our people shall know of our sunny prince,” Neytiri says while she boops her baby’s nose. 

“Have you chosen a name for him?” tsu’tey asks as he follows closely behind. Neytiri chuckles as she shares a look with jake. 

“Spider, we chose to call our son, spider” 

The people cheered and roared out in happiness once the royal couple had presented their son. Many were in awe at how such an adorable child could ever exist. Truly a gift blessed from their sun. 

Many threw flower petals, confetti, horns blowing out, little children waving their flags. The crowd was booming with noise. All eyes on the prince. Including one set of icey blue eyes. Glaring at the royal family. 

No one noticed him. All too busy celebrating. A tall menacing man with a dark cloak to hide his face. The man glared with hate. Just how dare they? 

How dare the king and queen lie to their people? How dare they lie that their ‘son’ was a gift from their light above? How dare they lie and say the boy belongs to them? Lies, all lies. 

But Quaritch knows the truth. That baby, the child the royal couple holds is his son. His blood! His ‘wife’ was a foolish woman. Giving away their child to the royals. She is at fault in this mess too! Too bad she is dead otherwise quaritch would have given her a piece of his mind. But it is not too late. Good thing he still remembers the ins and outs of the palace. After all, he used to be their top chief. The king’s once right hand man. Now replaced by that snarky brat. 

Quartich will have his revenge soon enough. He will have his son back one way or another. 

Night came, and silent as an owl, quaritch entered the royal bedroom without a squeak. Quietly and effortlessly he passed by the couple who were sleeping soundly. Beside them was the cradle where HIS son was sleeping. The cradle was elegantly crafted with golden trims and plush pillows. Only a few days old and he is being spoiled rotten. Cant have that. 

Grabbing his scissors, quaritch goes for the baby’s golden locks. His hair will be a dead give away if anyone finds him. However, just cutting a small strand, the piece of hair turned dark brown and the baby began to cry. 

There was no time. 

When Jake and Neytiri awoke to the cries of their child, they were too late. 

In their eyes, a dark hooded figure stood at the balcony with their baby in his arms. Before Jake can reach him, the hooded figure jumps off and into the dark forest. 

Neytiri cried, not believing what just happened. Jake was quick to call out the night guards. Alarms were sounded, tsu’tey was quick to gather his army to search for the thief who stole their sun.

18 years later 

“Get your ass over here!” Z-dog, a professional female thief, growls at the little brat who seems to be taking his sweet ass time. Opening the top trap door that led  straight down to the golden crown that was heavily guarded. Lyle, her partner in crime, was also getting impatient. 

“Just a sec….wow……this view is nice, very nice…..guys I want my own castle” a young boy spoke. Age 14 and already making a long list of crimes against the kingdom. This will be the biggest one yet. 

“When we do this job, you can have you own castle” lyle grits his teeth as he yanks lo’ak back to the missions. Tying the rope on his waist, they lower lo’ak down to the crown room. 

Quickly he shoves the gold crown into the satchel until one of the guards sneezes loudly. 

“Ugh, day fever?” lo’ak asks. 

“Yeah” the guard answers casually. Until he realized what just happened. Looking up, he and the other guards saw lo’ak being pulled back up and quickly make a run for it. 

“What a great day to be aliiiiiiiiiiiiive!!” lo’ak shouts as he, z-dog and lyle run across the bride that connects the forest and the kingdom. 

The three ran fast at top speed. They already knew the royal guards were on their way to hunt them down. Capital punishment awaits them. tulkun might get some leeway. He really only wanted adventure, but for sure he does not want to really suffer the consequences. 

As they ran for it, they halted to a dead end. Hearing the soldiers nearing, acting quick was needed. 

“Give me a boost and I will pull you both up,” Tulkun said in a hurry. 

Z-dog and lyle looked at each other and then at him. 

“Give us the satchel first” z-dog says as she reaches for it. 

Looking quite offended, Tulkun places a hand over his chest, “I cant….after all we have been together, you guys still dont trust me?” 

Dead looks was all he was given. 

“Ouch” 

He gives the satchel to z-dog and the three were quick to holl up lo’ak. Purposely stepping in z-dogs face as he reaches the top. 

“Now help us up, pretty boy” she demands while reaching her hand up. 

“Sorry, but my hands are full” tulkun smirks while holding the satchel and makes a run for it. 

“What the- TULKUUUUUUUUUUN!!”

That was close, way too close for tulkun’s liking. Tsu’tey was close to seeing his face. If he did then its game over. For now, he will have to lie low, no doubt his family will be worried to death about him. His parents are way too protective. They will be even more once he gets back. Not something he looks forward to. 

For now, he found a little cave that was actually a little entryway to a tower. How long was that there? 

Not giving much thought he was quick to climb the tower and shut the doors[?] windows. Finally being able to be at peace, he opens the satchel to see the golden crown. Sighing in relief. 

“Hello at last-” 

Darkness was all he saw. 

“Who are you and how did you find me?” 

Miles demanded to know from the young stranger. Tied to the chair, miles made sure his long dreads were enough to make sure the invader didn't escape. Who the hell was he to just climb into someone's tower unannounced? And talking to themselves? 

Father was right, there are crazy people out there. 

“Is this….all hair?” the stranger asked as he looked at his long dreads. 

“Hey! I asked you first! Answer!” miles shouts. Holding the pan tightly, he points it at the stranger. His little friend, payakan climbs on the pan, looking dead in the eyes of the stranger. 

“Is that a blue lizard…?” the stranger asks another question. Do all strangers keep on asking questions? 

“Hey! I get to ask questions here, not you! Got that?” Miles narrows his eyes trying to look as threatening as possible. The stranger rapidly shook his head agreeing. 

Miles starts to walk around the stranger while swinging his pan. 

“So stranger, have you come for my hair? Cut it? Sell it?” he begins to accuse. 

The stranger looks at him confused. 

“What? No! Look, I came here to hide because a horse is on my ass! And now I have to-wait wait! My satchel! Where is my satchel!?” 

Crossing his arms, confidently smiling, miles responds “I’ve hidden in, somewhere where you will never find it” 

The stranger looks to his left, “It's hidden in that pot, isn't it?” 

BANG! 

Tulkun woke up once again, this time feeling something wet in his ear. Turning he sees the weird blue lizard outstretching his long tongue in his ear. Feeling grossed out, he shouts, “STOP THAT!!” startling the lizard. 

“Now I’ve hidden it somewhere you’ll never find it” the weird boy says. 

“Now back to the main question, how did you find me?” the boy asks again. 

“Look, in all honesty, I was running through the forest ok? I have an army at my ass and a horse! Just give me the crown back and I will leave. Alright?” tulkun replies honestly. 

The weird boy, or guy since he looks older, stares at him confusingly. 

“Wait, you don't want my hair?” he asks. 

“Why on earth would I want your hair? Actually, why do you even want your hair this long? Don't you have a knife or scissors in this place?” 

The weird guy didn't say anything. Walking away at some distance to talk to his blue lizard friend. Whispering some stuff he couldnt make out. However, using that time to try and free himself. No use, the guy tied him up pretty dang good. 

“Alright, it seems you are saying the truth. Now to important matters, look over here” the guy says as he shifts his hair for the chair to move, making him land on his face.

Lifting a curtain aside, the boy reveals a beautiful painting on top of an empty chimney. It showed a dark blue sky with lanterns floating up in the sky. 

“Do you know what these are?” the guy asks. 

“The lanterns? Yeah, they do that for the lost prince” tulkun says automatically. No real emotion behind it. Holding in his indifferent feelings for that specific day. His face is starting to hurt against the floor. Trying to push himself up, he couldn't hear what the guy said. Until suddenly he was being lifted up. 

“I have a deal I want to make,” the weird guy said. 

Take him to see the lanterns and in return he gets the crown back. No big deal. Seems simple enough. Except for one thing. 

“WOOOOHOOOOOOOO!! 

“What have I done?” 

“I LOVE THS!!” 

“What if he finds out??” 

“I DONT CARE!!” 

“I am horrible” 

“I FEEL GREAT!!” 

“I'm going back, i'm a horrible son” 

“I AM NEVER GOING BACK!!” 

Tulkun didn't think he would also be a babysitter. Damn, and he thought his sister was terrible with mood swings. This weird guy clearly is older than him yet acts just like his baby sister who is 3. 

After what felt like centuries, the weird guy calms down but not in high spirits. 

“It seems you seem to be in turmoil. Look, it does seem a lot. But from the bits I heard, it seems you got a protective father, leaving without telling, talking to a stranger whom you never met and now going somewhere that you need to rely on said stranger to get there. This is pretty serious stuff you know” 

The weird guy just stares at him. 

“Part of life you know. Kinda late but it seems you are going through what I like to call “fuck the rules” phase. Personally I hope it's not a phase. Normal stuff” tulkun continues to say while simultaneously shoving the blue lizard off his shoulder. 

“Really…?” the guy asks. 

“Yup, but this might make your dad upset. Hell, break his heart and crush his soul even. But its fine” 

“Wait, you are gaslighting me aren't you” the weird guy was picking up on what tulkun was trying to do. 

“I tried” tulkun answered honestly. 

“No, we are going to see those lights,” the weird guy says, standing up for himself. 

“Oh yeah? What I don't want anymore?” tulkun mocks him. 

“I will use this” the pan was pointing at him again. 

“Ugh, fine” 

“Miles” 

“Hm?” 

“My name is miles. I forgot to tell you my name earlier” miles says. 

“Oh nice….” 

“What is your name?” miles asks. 

“......its tulkun” 

Miles heard that slight hesitation. Perhaps its not his real name. 

“Cool, this is payakan. My one and only friend” 

Payakan stands on miles’s left shoulder, glaring at tulkun. 

“He really doesnt like me, does he?” tulkun eyes at the reptile. 

“Eh, he will warm up to you. Now, what was that place called again?” miles claps his hands, getting a little hungry. 

“It's called recom port. Best steaks and cold drinks. Hits the spot all the time. And the folks there are super friendly” tulkun says. Smirking inwardly. Surly that place will scare miles back to his little tower. 

Wherever miles goes, tulkun can't help but notice how it was so easy to bring in people. The recom outcasts were super friendly towards him! And they hated tulkun! The hell?! Even worse, miles managed to have them all sing for hours non-stop. Tulkun is just so done. He wants the crown and go back home. Screw with whatever punishment his dad will give him. He can take it. 

Even worse since miles somehow tamed that demon of a horse. 

“Awe, such a good girl aren't you….zeze!” miles coos at the light blue horse. Reading the collar the fowl beast has. 

Zeze was wagging her tail like some dog. Ready to comply with whatever miles tells her. 

“You cant be serious, that thing is capable of murder!!” tulkun tries to reason with miles. 

“Did she kill?” 

“Umm…no but I wouldn't doubt it!

Miles rolls his eyes and continues to pet zeze. 

“Look, we are tired from walking and zeze seems to have a lot of energy. Why not ride her the rest of the way? It's a win-win. What do you think, big girl? Want to blow off some steam?” Miles suggests to the hell beast who neighs in agreement. 

“Oh you have got to be kidding me” tulkun rolls his eyes. He would rather walk on hot rocks than deal with her. 

“Come on, it will be easier. Look, I can tell you both dont get along but please just until we get to the lights? Please?” miles pleads. 

Zeze seems to side with him, offering her hoof, she and tulkun shake in agreement. 

“Wonderful! Now lets get on!” miles says happily as he climbs on zeze. Payakan sitting on zeze’s head getting a good view and tulkun sits behind miles. 

“Have you ever rode on a horse before?” tulkun asks. 

“Nope, first time! HIYAH!” 

Zeze takes off, letting the winds hit their faces and excitement filling their lungs. 

It was amazing! Miles has never seen this many people before! And they all live together in smaller yet wider towers? So cool! And the food! So delicious! More books to read, new music to listen to. It was so perfect. 

A kind lady even gifted him a small flat with a sun design and a flower. He admires the pretty flower until he sees other people laying their flowers in front of an interesting mural.

“It's for the lost prince” a child says to their baby sibling. 

Lost prince? 

Miles takes a good look at the mural. There stood two proud looking people. A man and a woman, wearing fancy looking clothing. In the woman's arms was a baby. A child who is smiling and have lovely golden hair and blue eyes. 

“Poor baby…” miles mutters. He places his flower on the base of the mural. Whoever the baby is, hopefully he comes back to his family soon.

Night came and tulkun managed to get a small boat for them to the surrounding moat. The lanturn festival was about to begin. Tulkun look to see miles not smiling anymore. 

“Hey, you ok..? Feeling excited?” he asks. 

“Feeling kind of terrified actually…” miles confesses. 

Tulkun tilts his head, “how come?” 

“All my life, for as long as I can remember I look at my window and see beautiful stars in the sky. Always wondering what they were. And here I am, about to see the truth….I'm scared to be disappointed” 

Tulkun, understanding his new friend, places an arm over his shoulder. 

“Nothing wrong with being disappointed. In the end, you will get to see what is more than the stars as you call them” 

Miles smiles a bit, “and what if they are? What then?” 

“That is the fun part I guess. It opens a path for a new journey” 

Neytiri straights jake’s outcoat, making him presentable. Her eyes meet his. Sadness and sorrow are all there is. No words are needed to be said. She knows. What is supposed to be a joyous day has now become a sad tradition for all. 

They meet their children on the balcony, all holding their own lanterns. Yet, neytiri and jake notice their third son is missing. It was just putting more salt on the wound. 

Taking the lead, they light up their lantern and together they let it go. The royal children followed. Moments after, all of the kingdom let go of their lanterns. The darkened sky now filled with lanterns, all goes at their own pace. 

Neytiri and jake hold each other close while holding their children. Their hopes depleting each year. The hope that one day, their first child would return home. That hopefully their son would find these lanterns and use them as a guide back to them. 

But its been 18 years. A grown adult by now. 

They make sure their children know of their big brother, and how he would have loved each and everyone of them. Their children never doubted that. 

“He will come home this time, right mama….?” The first princess asks her mother as she stares at the lanterns. Every year she asks the same question. Every year, neytiri answers the same thing. 

“He must” 

Miles was in awe. The lanterns were so beautiful! Each one was different yet all burned brightly. 

“I finally know the truth…” he says. 

Tulkun hears this……

“Lo’ak” he speaks. 

“Hm?” 

“My real name is Lo’ak, tulkun was just a disguise name…” lo’ak admits. 

“Why?” miles asks, curious to know. 

“My family….well my parents to be precise. Are very protective. Like super protective. Cant go anywhere without someone spying on me or my siblings…” lo’ak says with what sounds like defeat in his voice. 

“You see….I have an older brother and two younger sisters. My parents however, had a son before my big brother neteyam. Spider was his name. My parents said he was only 3 months old before a dark cloaked guy took him away. They never knew who he was or why the stranger took him. That night traumatized them for life. Dont get me wrong, it is sad. He would have been 4 or 5 years old by the time I was born. Its just….” lo’ak couldn't continue. 

“So that is why you are rebellious…wanting to get out of their tight hold. Needing to breathe and just take risks for the fun of it” miles finishes for him. 

Lo’ak looks at miles’s long hair. 

“Yeah…but what about you? You never told me why you lived in that tall, isolated tower” lo’ak asks, wanting to change the subject. 

“My dad….he too is overprotective. Growing up, he tells me all of the dangerous things that happen outside of the tower. Baby stealing ghouls, men with sharp teeth, diseases, blood sucking monsters. I was terrified. But in reality…he kept me there because of my hair…” 

Miles moves his dreads to the side to reveal a short dark strand of hair. 

“My hair….is what is keeping me alive. If cut, it affects my health. He doesn't know why, niether do I but…something like that, it has to be protected” 

“So….you never left that tower?” lo’ak was astounded. Miles, a grown adult at this point, has never seen what life has to offer? 

Miles nodded. 

“And you still want to go back…?” 

Miles looked to be contemplating on that question. But before could be said, near the dock was two unpleasantly familiar people.

“There, it will be just like it never happened” his dad says. 

Miles was back at the tower. Any traces of him being outside was gone. Lo’ak left him and took the crown. Leaving him vulnerable to two dangerous strangers who wanted to cut his hair for higher value. If it wasn't for his dad finding him, who knows what could have happened. 

“Hey, I will make that coup you like so much, that will lift your spirits up” his dad was exiting his room. 

“Look son, I know it seems unfair but you have to understand. Not everything is bright and good. Terrible people who sees any trace of goodness, they will destroy it no matter what” with that, he goes downstairs. 

Leaving miles alone. He stares at the paintings he has done on the ceiling. Why do they look familiar? 

Pulling out the little flag he still kept, he compares the sun to the familiar shapes. 

“What the…?” why do his painting have the sun symbol? 

Suddenly, he got a massive headache. 

Memories of a past he didn't know he had came flooding in. 

“WAIT WAIT DAD!! YOU DONT GET IT!!” lo’ak shouts as he tries to fight back his uncle figure tsu’tey. The other night he was knocked out by z-dog and lyle, tying him on a canoe with the crown. Now being punished, he was to be sent to a neighboring kingdom as a form of punishment for stealing a royal crown.

Jake, having had enough of his son's lies, false promises, and fake sympathy, didnt want to hear him anymore.

“Hopefully this will teach you a lesson son. You knew how important that crown was. Stealing was the last straw "Jake says. His family beside him, none wanting lo’ak to go but it was necessary.

“NO!! YOU DONT GET IT!! THEY TOLD ME!! HE IS ALIVE!! DAMN IT!! IM SORRY UNCLE!!” with a quick hit with his head, lo’ak managed to free himself from tsu’tey. Acting fast he made a run for it.

“ZEZE!!” he calls out. The majestic yet beastly horse answers his call, he climbed onto her.

Tsu’tey calls his soldiers to follow lo’ak, his family yelling to come back. “HE IS ALIVE!! SPIDER IS ALIVE!!” was all lo’ak said before zeze ran faster, heading straight to the forest. This whole time, this whole time! His big brother is alive!! He has a lot to make up for right now, lo’ak needs to get him out of the tower and away from the stranger miles calls ‘father’.

There was so much blood. Miles didnt know how to heal him. He wanted to save lo’ak, save him, tell him of his newfound revelation! Yet his dad has him tied to chains like some feral animal. 

“That is enough! You are going somewhere far more hidden! Somewhere where you won't even see the sunlight!” his father says. Miles can hardly recognize him anymore. All he sees is a scary, tall man who sees miles as some golden item rather than a human being. 

Yet miles fought back, as best as he could. Lo’ak is dying,he needs to do something! 

“Let me heal him please!” miles begs. Tears ran down his face. 

“Let me heal him, and you and I will be together. Just like we always have. Please dad, let me save him” 

His dad saw lo’ak laying still, thinking he won't last long. He ties a chain to his ankle, just incase the brat gets any ideas of following them. Miles was quick, panicking but doing his best to close the wound. 

“Miles…” lo’ak whispers weakly, “dont…I can let you…” he tries his hardest to say, 

“I cant let you die…” miles whispers, more tears falling out. 

Lo’ak gets closer as if to tell miles something, however, in a surprise move, he cuts miles hair. 

“Lo’ak!! What did you…!!” his was was quick to turn a dark brown, his dreads also losing their golden color. 

“NO!!! WHAT DID YOU DO?! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU HAVE DONE!?” the mad man shrieks. In a hurry he tries to collect the hair, not carrying where he is stepping. He tangles himself in the dreads, unknowingly wrapping himself. In a daze he trips. 

Over the tower’s window. 

Falling to his death. His screams are now silent. 

Miles couldn't comprehend what just happened. Yet he had to focus on lo’ak. 

“Im sorry….brother….” lo’aks arms went limp, his eyes closed. 

“No no no!! Stay with me lo’ak! Please!!” miles cries out loud. Now he truly is alone. No friend, no father, no one. Just himself. He lets his tears fall on lo’aks wound. 

“Please save him…!! I beg you!! Save him!!” miles didnt know to who he was calling to. To himself? To some holy being? Perhaps he was already losing his mind now that he lost his golden hair. Or perhaps, not all is lost…

Bright light flooded the tower from the outside. Its light radiating warmth, reminds miles that of the lanterns. Bright yet gentle. It was like being swaddled in a blanket. The light surrounded him and lo’ak. His hair, although now messy, its golden color returned. The light touches lo’ak’s wound, sealing it, healing him. 

Just as it has appeared, the light has dispersed. As if it never did. 

Holding in his breathe, miles looks over at lo’ak, hoping to see something. 

A cough was heard, more coughs, and a scruff. 

“Oh fuck…did I hit something?” Lo’ak asks as he sits up. 

Miles shouts in happiness. Hugging lo’ak tightly, he says his thanks to the mysterious light that saved his friend. His brother. 

Quickly, neytiri and jake along with their children make haste to the balcony where tsu’tey said was where he was waiting. 

They all hold hands tightly, reassuring one another that this is real, its not a dream. 

Opening the doors, they see lo’ak. Beside him was someone jake and neytiri thought they would never see. 

A young, tall man with short yet very familiar golden hair stood before them. Wide, sparkly blue eyes that can rival the sky. His familiar smile, his aura radiant of warm happiness. This is him. 

“Spider…” neytiri whispers, getting closer to him. Touching his cheeks, his hands, his ears, hair, everything. 

“It is you…my spider, my son” she confirms. A mother could never mistake her child. 

Hugging him close, she cries out in joy. Jake followed soon after her. Holding his son after so many years. Kissing his head, hearing his heartbeat. Their son has returned. 

“You did find him…” jake says to lo’ak. 

Lo’ak smiles, joining in the hug, not saying much as to let his parents have this moment. 

“Come come my children, meet your big brother! He is home!” neytiri gestures her three other children, neteyam, kiri and tuk. The three join in one massive group hug. 

This is what miles, or now, spider, wanted. To feel truly loved. This is his family, may take some time getting used to, but spider truly felt at home with them. For they are warm and radiant, like that of the sun. 

Aaaaaaaaaand that is it for this one! Hope you all liked it! Until next time! See ya!

[starkraivennemad]

How Does That Feel?

Mycroft Holmes stood with his little brother as they got dressed together. They were very grown men now and it dawned to him they had not done such since...

"The day before you left for uni. Black trousers, a white button with slate pullover, a navy-blue tie, black socks, and lace-up brogues for you. Black short pants with braces, a tee with charcoal stripes, white knee socks and black penny loafers for me." Sherlock chuckled, speaking aloud the thought in Mycroft’s head, his usually mellifluous voice soft with bittersweet reminiscence.

For all their differences as they became men of the world, when the Holmes brothers were in sync, it was uncanny. This was one of those times.

How does that feel? he asks himself. It something Mycroft does on emotionally laden days to acknowledge the feeling, name it and move on so that he’s not overwhelmed.

“Funny how that feels.” He mused aloud.

“I know.” Sherlock nodded in understanding.

“You loved those braces. They had little yellow and black bee buttons sewn into the front of them."

"Little bee buttons that YOU had sewn into the braces." Sherlock emphasized.

"I did not know you knew." Mycroft smiled surprised, but pleased.

"Mummy refused to buy me the short pants I had seen in a store window and wanted them." Sherlock chuckled in memory. "Yes, they were shorts for little girls, but I did not care. I wanted the bees."

"Yes. And you had caused quite the scene on the asphalt I was told. You were five and already so head strong. Mummy really should have known better." Mycroft chuckled. "You were so chuffed when I presented the black braces, with the bees sewn on, to you a few days later."

"Oh, my behavior then was a pittance compared to the meltdown I had when school bully Melvin Vandenberg, popped off one the buttons, then ran off and tossed it where I could not see. I tore up the flower beds looking for it until I was bodily picked-up and carried out screaming when I could not find it. I thought it lost forever. I was inconsolable. I  thought..."

Mycroft saw the slight melancholy that creased Sherlock’s brow then and he knew.

"Though I have to say that must have been one impressive meltdown - enough to have your friend Victor and all of facilities scour the entire yard until it was found, Brother Mine, I would have never hated you for losing a simple button were it not found."

"I realized that later in hindsight. But right then and there when I already felt abandoned by you for going to uni without me, I just knew you were never coming back because I had been so careless." Sherlock shrugged and continued dressing.

So many, many years later and Mycroft could see a shadow of that hurt within his brother. It was life, he would not apologize for being off to university. Nonetheless he felt sorry for the pain his leaving caused Sherlock. It was the beginning of the chasm that formed between them. Given who they are as men, though things are certainly better, there still were moments when Mycroft wondered if it will ever close.

How does that feel? Sorrow, Regret.

Sherlock’s momentary grasp on his shoulder brought him back to the present. It reminded him of how far they have come that Sherlock not only noticed, but quietly did what was needed to remind him that it might have taken them a couple of decades but that chasm has begun to close.

How does that feel? Good. It was a good feeling.

"Victor found the button later and gave it to me and then walked up to Vandenberg and punched him in the nose making it bleed." Sherlock looked askance for a moment a small bittersweet smile at his lips. In less than two years from that day Sherlock loses Victor because of…her.

And it is Mycroft’s turn to grasp Sherlock’s shoulder to ground him.

"No one did anything like that for you again until John...and the cabbie..."  Mycroft said carefully, years of being who he is reminding him ears can be anywhere listening.

"Not until John." Sherlock confirmed.

"And that’s why you're marrying him."

"One of the many reasons why."  Sherlock tied a perfect double-Windsor knot on the second try. "None other cares for me the way John does."

"Oh?" Mycroft hmmed, tying a perfect double-Windsor knot on the first try. When Sherlock did not respond, Mycroft said nothing as he finished dressing.

John, for all he does care for Sherlock, he has only been in his brother's life the past eleven years. Even Gregory Lestrade, who certainly cared for Sherlock, had five more years than that. Except for the years in uni and the first few as an agent, Mycroft has spent his life, especially the last near thirty of them protecting Sherlock in so many ways. Yes, things were better, but there was still something of a strained relationship between them as adults. He could not help the twinge of hurt he felt at the seeming dismissal of it all.

How does that feel? Disappointment, with a tinge of resolve. It was not a good feeling.

"You two about ready in there?" Greg, John's best man, knocked on the door just then.

"We are." Mycroft went to the door, grateful for the diversion.

Gregory looked at him, the unspoken “You okay?” in the raised brow.

Mycroft gave a single nod in an equally unspoken “I'm fine.”

“How's John?" Mycroft knew his husband would understand he changed the subject on purpose, but would let it be for now, knowing he'd explain later.

"Left him with Mike, checking off the new, borrowed and blue." Greg stood at the door looking to Sherlock, "He said you had something for us…?"

"That reminds me, Sherlock, where is your something ol...?" Mycroft started to ask.

He stopped when Sherlock reached into a toiletry bag and handed him a small box. He raised a curious brow as he opened it, then gasped aloud as he looked at his brother completely stunned. "Oh Sherlock!"

"Myc?” Greg entered the room fully at Mycroft’s stuttered breath in contrast to Sherlock’s pleased but shy smile. He closed the door behind him. “Sherlock?"

Mycroft held the box out so Greg could see the contents.

"Bees and safety pins?" Greg looked from the little bee buttons inside the box to the two brothers staring at each other.

"You…" Mycroft’s usually cool blue-grey eyes were suddenly warm with unshed tears as he found his somewhat choked voice. His fingers gingerly touched the buttons as though he would not believe they existed without doing so. He stared at his little brother. “…you kept these...?”

"Of course." Sherlock reached into the box, "You got them just for me. You defied Mummy who was stuck on the gender bias of their coming from a girl's outfit. She told me years later how you argued with her for me to have them when you explained exactly how you knew I would wear them. Mrs. Hudson, Molly, and Rosie are wearing similar, but different bee buttons that I gifted them as important in my life. But these original buttons are ours…” Sherlock picked up two bees and safety pins and secured them to his brother’s lapel. "Though young yourself, you fought for me. You understood her points, but you fought for me to be me, even at that tender age. Yes, you left for uni soon after, and I simply could not understand that, but I have never forgotten that you did this for me Mycroft."

Mycroft was speechless as he watched Sherlock pin him. He remembered the buttons, naturally, but they were both children when he had given them to Sherlock. He had thought the buttons to be long lost to history. That Sherlock had kept them through the years since floored him.

How does that feel? Frankly overwhelming, but good.

"It was the first of many such battles between our parents and I until they finally understood I had to find my own way and they had to accept it. Other than the drug use, you have never stopped me from being me, even if you don’t always agree with my choices. John and Greg also accept me as I am and will each get one bee, but you were the first, so you get two.” Sherlock continued speaking as he straightened Mycroft’s lapel. “And for all the trouble I have given - and let's be honest will continue to give you - today, I wanted you to know while I outgrew the short pants, and the ability to easily tell you such, I have never outgrown my need for someone to understand the dragon slayer, when no one else does. Yes, I have John, Greg and even Molly, but they are not you. None other cares for me the way John does – save one. And right now, I want to acknowledge that One and say thank you. Thank you, for everything, Brother Mine. Thank you."

Hearing the words from Sherlock, the open acknowledgement, Mycroft was ashamed of having just thought his brother was apathetic to him. He should have known better. For all the strain between them growing up, Sherlock was very much like him in certain ways. Sherlock just was not one for such outward displays of affection.

Mycroft gave a tremulous smile at the memory of the conversation held as they smoked in front of their parents' house that long ago Christmas when he called Sherlock a dragon slayer. He was further shamed to realize that had been the last openly tender moment between them as brothers.

Until now.

Mycroft understood that heartfelt thank you was Sherlock's way of saying he loved him. It was as good as he was going to get with his brother.

And the unshed tears flowed. “Oh, Sherlock!”

Sherlock then picked up two more bees with safety pins and held them out to Mycroft. "Can you?""

"Oh, of course!" Mycroft took the items and pinned the bee buttons to Sherlock’s lapel. As soon as he was done, he did something he rarely did with his brother as an adult: pulled Sherlock into his arms and held him tight. "I love you, Sherlock."

Though he could never forget it, Mycroft will be eternally grateful to Greg, whom both brothers had all but forgotten was in the room with them, when in a few days will present him with a framed photograph of the moment captured on his phone.

The moment when Sherlock himself did something even more rare: hugged his brother back tightly and then said the actual words.

"I love you too, Mycroft."

How does that feel? Absolutely Wonderful!

---------

Read/Comment on AO3

[bitkahuna]

“Harry, the information you’ve given us, while we believe you, has to be verifiable in order to do anything about it.” Arthur explained.

Harry furrowed his eyebrows. “To do something, what, legally?” He blinked. “Like, getting the Ministry involved?"

“Frankly, yes.” Arthur nodded. “If we can bring Crouch Jr. in on something serious enough to warrant the use of a truth serum, we could get everything we need to make arrests and search the Crouch residence."

-----

“What do you think of a sleepover?”

“A sleepover? In Grimmauld Place?” Ron grinned.

“Yea.”

“Mate, this place is like a fucking legend for us. You don’t just get invited to Grimmauld Place, home of the most noble and ancient House of Black.” He said the last part in a somewhat mocking tone of how House Black used to refer to themselves.

“Now home to Sirius Black, a werewolf, and me.”

“I think it’d be awesome. Who would you invite?”

“Us, obviously. Maybe ‘Mione and Luna. She and I need to go buy formalwear together anyway. If we’re inviting them, then we ought to invite Ginny, cause I think it would be weird if Luna was the only person younger than us. But then we might as well ask Neville, Dean, and Seamus."

-----

“You want me to use dark arts.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. A tired one.

‘To make him known is to delve into the very essence of his being.’

With that, Ianthe interjected, “I’ve had many powerful masters. Last I remember such magics were theoretical.”

‘The foundations of which are proven. ’ Those illusory eyes turned to Harry. ‘Recently proven.’

The boy tensed, looking between the two. “What have I done?”

-----

First, he was denied knowledge for fear he would become a dark wizard. Now he has to in order to hunt Horcruxes. Was he becoming a monster? He got Professor Quirrell killed, killed the basilisk, encouraged Sirius to kill Peter. But the good killing, killing the Horcruxes, he outsourced. Moaning Myrtle destroyed the diary and Kreacher destroyed the locket. Why had he only done the bad killing? Sure, Sirius was the one to actually kill Peter, but Harry still encouraged it. Harry insisted on staying. He saw Peter’s dead body.

Maybe this was it, then.

Maybe he was made for the scars. Maybe he was made for the evil. Harry Potter was a vessel for all the darkness required to end this war, so everyone else could stay in the light. He could eat it, swallow it whole, and become it. Become the darkness to bring the dawn.

-----

Harry sighed, sitting back down. He thought back to when Ashterah said she didn’t want to train the next Dark Lord. He remembered everything she said afterward; the thin line between miracles and horrors, would he take everything he wanted if he could, that he should be afraid. “You’ve been debating this for a while, haven’t you?”

‘I’ve thought it necessary since summer but never wanted it to come to this.’

“Dark magic is corrupting.” He spoke in a feeble argument. “It turns people weak and hideous.” He’d been taught on several occasions the effects the dark arts can have on people. Some argued those were just rumors, but he knew it was true. He’d seen two separate books in the Restricted Section on how to reverse the physical deterioration that comes from dark magic use. He’s also heard plenty of complaints on Knockturn Alley, where there was a flowering counterfeit beauty potions market.

“Evil turns them weak and hideous.” Ianthe corrected. “Weak will turn inquiring minds to greed and hate; this malice leads to evil.”

“It’s illegal.” Harry muttered.

‘Only if you use it for evil, Harry. I cannot promise you will not kill, but you will find law and morals are oft cast aside in war.’

Harry sighed, feeling a tear fall from his eye as he came to a decision. “They have to be, don’t they?”

-----

Just posted!! Things went a bit differently at the Triwizard Tournament, allowing Harry and his allies a shot at getting Barty Crouch Jr. arrested before the 3rd task. Now, during Yule break, Harry grapples with the fact that he''ll have to do something drastic to survive whatever has been planned for that final task.

Also, Yule is coming up and Harry is 1000% going to kiss Draco again because I can't physically stop

[sweetbunpura]

Rollo's favorite Guardians from Least to Greatest

North: THE HOME INVADER 🤬. As North is a version of Santa, he was already on track to being home boy's least favorite. Rollo hates him with the fury of a thousand suns and has repeated had to talk him down from burning North's sleigh and smashing his travel snow globes. He has also been trying to find North's list so he can burn it. He has this far been unsuccessful. North, on the other hand, finds Rollo's hatred to be adorable and hilarious, like a barking Pomeranian. Though, He knows Rollo is only this way because he is viciously protective of children, and he admires that. But... he also can't help but laugh with unadulterated joy at the pure Wonder in the boy's eyes at experiencing love for first time with Yuu.

Toothiana: THE HOME INVADER PART 2 ELECTRIC BOOGALOO 😡. She breaks into children's rooms in the dead of night and steals their teeth. No, Yuu, he doesn't care that she leaves money behind, she and her cronies are still unknown adults breaking and entering into a child's room while they are sleeping. That's almost worse than North! The only reason she isn't on par with him is because she doesn't keep children under surveillance and gives her gifts freely without an arbitrary code of good or bad children. Though he really doesn't like that she doesn't seem to understand the concept of personal space and won't stop sticking her hands in his mouth. While Tooth is mildly concerned by the amount of suspicion Rollo has of her, she understands that it is merely his way of showing concern for the children. Though, she doesn't hesitate to scold him over the amount of coffee he drinks. Dear you're going to stain your teeth! She hopes, with Yuu's help, he'll be able to create new, happy Memories, instead of clinging on to the painful ones..

Jack: THIS BOY RAN OVER A CHILD WITH A COUCH??? Oh, jail for you! Jail for one thousand years! Jk. Jk. When they first met, Rollo thought Jack was nothing but an annoying troublemaker and Jack thought Rollo was nothing but a judgemental stick in the mud. After a time, after learning a bit more about each other (i.e learning one lost their sibling to a fire caused by uncontrolled magic and the other dying to protect their sibling), their relationship settles into a love/hate one, although Rollo will absolutely never admit that he has a soft spot for the winter spirit. Jack just hopes Yuu can help Rollo have a bit more Fun.

Bunnymund: Bunny is.. alright. He simply leaves colorful eggs and homemade chocolate for children to find. He doesn't break into anyone's home or creeps on kids. So, he's alright in Rollo's books. The two of them also bond over flowers, weirdly enough, and being pranked by Jack. Bunny also thinks Rollo is an alright kid, even if he's a little unhinged sometimes. He's just glad Yuu has given him something to Hope for in life and in the future.

Sandman: 🥺 Sandy is hands down Rollo's favorite guardian. Probably because he and Yuu's combined efforts are the reason he has a somewhat reasonable sleep schedule that isn't plagued by horrific nightmares of the past. They sometimes have (decaffeinated, much to Rollo's chagrin) coffee together. Despite being mute, Sandy has effectively become Rollo's therapist (as Yuu is his girlfriend now, not his life coach). And Sandy can only hope that their sessions can help the poor boy be able to have sweet Dreams again all on his own.

Bonus:

Pitch: Local French Arsonist Commits Second Murder - Local Nightmare King Found Dead in Ditch: More News at 11

All of the Guardians looking at Rollo like: Yes, yes, this boy growing even if he get snippy.

North: And now Yuu need to rest.

Sandman, nods:

Yuu, overhearing them and smiles: Ready to go home, Rolls?

Rollo: Yes, today has been tiring. *holds out his hand* Shall we?

Yuu, takes it: We shall.

[beanghostprincess]

I don't know why, but I think Usopp, of all people, might smell gorgeous despite the fact of him being a pirate. Maybe it's those long, luscious, beautiful curly hair of his, or maybe it's just an impression given by the fact that he's not canonically that dirty, but my brain only understands simple things, so -- > long hair + not that smelly = smells pretty effing good. And...I don't even think it would be one of those artificial, chemical smells? Like, I don't think he would wear perfume or such [that's more a Sanji thing, which is not bad, but not exactly Usopp].

It's just. His hair products. Natural scented products, that is. Sweet notes of coconut and vanilla, with a little tangy switch given by muted notes of lemon.

Also, a white soap user. I stand by this. 'Cause it makes sense: I think that being a generally very cheap product, he grew up using white soap to clean himself. Simply put, I think the comforting smell of the soap would remind him of his childhood, his village, his mother, and his friends. Also, Kaya is a white soap user, confirmed [she told me].

His clothes are also clean and smell very homey and cozy. And did I mention that probably his skin looks great too? Maybe not, but that's an argument for another day.

This, being a Usopp headcanon, obviously contains lots of Sanuso headcanons.

Because yes, Sanji is enamored of his trèsor's smell. He wouldn't get enough of it in a single day, in a single span of 24 hours. Like, a day it's too little, and I think Sanji would go a bit insane if he didn't get a whiff of his boyfriend's gorgeous smell every once in a while. Because. His boyfriend is his safe place, so his boyfriend's smell would bring him comfort [this considered, WCI would've been absolute hell to him]. Also, I think Sanji is pretty sensitive to scents in general, so Usopp's warm and sweet fragrance makes him feel at home [Zoro being a hater would not have time for this at all].

And don't get me started with Usopp's resident bestest of friends and certified cuddle buddy [Luffy]: you just know that this menace with abandonment issues [affectionate] would claim his Usopp cuddles every now and then. I also think that after the whole Water 7 ordeal, their cuddle session would've been extensive, because Luffy just "missed Usopp and his smell so much". Even Chopper is smitten with his smell! Small, smell-sensitive Chopper!

Nami would love it, too! Hell, even Zoro would appreciate it [more for the fact that it's Usopp we're talking about, and Zoro would not hate a single little thing about him. Except his taste in man, but that's for another day].

So yeah, to sum up this random headcanon, Usopp is gorgeous has a gorgeous smell, and is the crew safe place.

I agree wholeheartedly with this. So much. Usopp looks like somebody who smells so good. Like flowers and wood. No doubt. He takes so much care of his hair and hygiene that it's kind of surprising that he's a pirate, honestly. Although what did you expect from somebody as anxious as him? I'm sure he's worried about this 24/7. And besides, being Sanji's boyfriend he's legally obligated to smell good because I think Sanji would be very sensitive so scents (as you said. Because it's true. I often mention this on my fics, actually).

Kaya and Usopp took care of each other in a ver intimate way!! Showered together. Shared hair products. Did each other's hair. When Usopp joins the crew, he still takes care of his hair and his image but it's mostly out of routine and love for Kaya more than anything. Besies, he loves taking care of his hair because it reminds him of his parents and the way they loved his hair so much too!! Always said it was the best part of him.

And yay!!!!!!!! Sanuso!!!!!!

Sanji absolutely loves Usopp's scent. He smells like flowers and Nami's tangerines and wood and paint and crayons. Idk how to explain it, but he smells like art and home and Sanji can still somehow smell the Merry on him. Poetic little gays. They miss their daughter. Every time Sanji is feeling anxious or just misses his boyfriend, he will go to Usopp and hug him and place his head on the crook of Usopp's neck. And he just kisses his shoulders and skin there and smells his hair for a while. When they go to sleep together and it's Sanji's turn to be the little spoon (happens most of the time, though) he will either turn around to be able to smell Usopp properly or he will just bring Usopp's hands closer to his lips while they sleep. They're the clingiest thing on earth.

Headcanon that after WCI, Sanji's sense of smell is a bit fucked up. The whole place was full of sweets everywhere and everything smelled like chocolate and strong tooth-rooting food. Sanji has a hard time smelling things again that don't remind him of that. He stops baking sweets for a while, too. So he starts reaching out for Usopp more to drown in his scent whenever the memories of WCI are too strong. He spent a long time without being able to be with his precious boyfriend and the only scent that calmed him down. Thinking about Usopp giving Sanji his bandana when they part ways in Dressrosa and keeping it throughout WCI and smelling it whenever he wants to remember how home feels like.

Luffy and Nami also enjoy Usopp's scent but that's because they're the ones who cuddle with him the most when he's free from the hands of his boyfriend. They're,,, So sweet. And Zoro likes being around him also because of that but, you know, it's Zoro and Usopp, they like being together either way.

To sum up the whole thing, Usopp is the most gorgeous man on earth and he smells like a dream.

[nevertheblood]

66 + dazango !!! 👀 teehee

hello. so, uh. this got so far away from me that I think it is not a drabble anymore or even anything close to it.

the problem is that this song is so damn perfect for dazango-- I actually SCREECHED when I opened my spotify to check it.

and then as usual for me I went on a 'let's emotionally torture ango sakaguchi' runaway train and... here we are.

I may post this to ao3 once it's been proofread lol THANK YOU FOR SENDING THIS I HAD A LOT OF FUN WRITING IT!

probably OOC since it's unbeta'd and i wrote it in two days but ANYWAYS HERE--

dazango x never say die by chvrches ~~

Wasn't it gonna be fun and wasn't it gonna be new?

Wasn't it gonna be different and wasn't it gonna be true?

Didn't you say that? Didn't you say that?

Weren't you gonna be sorry and weren't you gonna be pure?

Weren't we gonna be honest and weren't we gonna be more?

Didn't you say that? Didn't you say that?

All you want is to play at playing God

But I'm falling in and falling out

Never, never, never ever

Never ever, ever say die

“You lied to me.”

It’s not a question. Ango doesn’t ask how he found out – Dazai always knows, somehow or other.

Ango also knows better by now than to make excuses.

“Yes,” he says. “Or rather – obfuscated the truth.”

“They are the same thing,” Dazai says, “When you make your business out of deceit.”

Ango sees his point, but really… it was an inconsequential thing. Sort of.

He’d told Dazai he’d be out of town for a meeting – that much was true. He’d neglected to mention that it was overseas, with one of the Port Mafia’s subsidiaries in Hong Kong.

What does it matter? Dazai is years out of the mafia. His dealings with them, and for the most part Ango’s as well, are a thing that lives only in memory, steeping silently in regret and anger all the while.

It’s not any of Dazai’s business, what Ango does for work. Shouldn’t be anyone’s business, given the layers and layers of secrecy involved. 

It was just a meeting. Surface level intelligence gathering, that was all – no deals, no tricks, no subterfuge.

Dazai’s been four years out of the mafia, it’s true, but his eyes, right now – they carry that same cold steel as back then, the bite of a bullet, the only light therein the flash of a gun’s muzzle.

He is angry.

“I know that we have… a certain arrangement,” Ango says carefully. He doesn’t really know what to call it, the thing that exists so nebulously between he and Dazai. The two of them meet somewhere at a crossroads of misplaced trust and hotel bedsheets and guilty mouths and festering, rotted bitterness. “But my work is my work. It is separate from… what goes on between us.”

Dazai touches his cheek, the gentleness a startling counterpoint to the violence in his eyes, and Ango leans into it, a flower to the sun. It’s perhaps a little pathetic, the way he still takes in every scrap of affection from Dazai like a starving street dog begging for food, the way he craves it and hates himself for craving it. He doesn’t deserve it. He’s worked so hard to earn forgiveness and he still doesn’t deserve it.

“You promised me,” Dazai says softly, the thrum of his anger a quiet undertone, a subtle purr, a getaway car’s engine. “When we began this whole thing – that you would be transparent with me.”

“I am,” Ango insists, “To the best of my ability. You must know, with my work, that there are certain things that I cannot tell you. That I am honour-bound to secrecy.”

“Honour-bound?” Dazai’s low laughter causes something deep in Ango’s belly to burn, shameful, like a brand. “What honour can you say you have left?”

That’s cruel. Unnecessarily cruel, and it's not even wholly true. Ango wants to tell him so, to make him feel the same remorse – he knows it’s not possible, Dazai does not concern himself with guilt and he has never once looked for redemption – but even so, didn’t they cast this aside, when Dazai gave Ango the keys to his heart? Doesn’t Dazai love him, even a little bit?

He doesn’t have an answer to that. And he knows, of course, that he is without honour, without pride, so he stays silent.

“You promised me,” Dazai says again, and – is his voice cracking?

Ango hardly understands it at first. The emotion that has poisoned Dazai’s very veins ever since the Mimic incident – it has always been anger, cold and vicious and calm, murderous intent behind a blithe smile. Toxin in the blood, flowing downstream.

Ango has never once seen Dazai with sadness in his eyes.

“I really thought, this time – this time it would be different. You promised – ”

He is only repeating the same words, over and over, almost like a naïve child who is feeling the unfairness of heartbreak for the very first time. It doesn’t make sense. Dazai is not –

But then. Dazai had been merely eighteen, the first time. A boy, really. No matter how boldly he had worn the heavy black mantle of a mafia executive, that was all he had been, in the heart of him. A boy, who lost his best friend.

Four years down the line, he had only wanted something real to believe in. Something solid and honest and true.

And Ango had – once again – betrayed that fragile trust.

He can feel everything he's worked for, over the last four years, every time he’s put his life or his job or his self-respect on the line for Dazai, to crudely shape himself into something that might be worthy of forgiveness, of love, slipping away all too fast – sand into the bottom of an hourglass.

But it's different this time. It has to be.

He slips his hand into Dazai’s, where it had been resting at his side, and tries to curl their fingers together.

“Dazai,” Ango says, “I – it means nothing, I know. But for what it’s worth – I’m sorry.”

Dazai’s hand remains still and unmoving.

“I knew you would be angry,” Ango keeps trying, all the same. “That I had had dealings with the Port Mafia again, even indirectly. I knew that you would question me about it and that there would be certain answers I could not give, even to you. I wasn’t…” He takes a deep breath, here, the flinch before the inevitable pain of the honesty. “I wasn’t prepared for that conversation. And so I avoided it, like a coward. You are right to be angry. I do not blame you for that.”

Dazai stays silent. Ango isn't sure if there's a light of hope in his eyes or if it's the shine of unshed tears. Somehow he isn't as shocked by the idea of Dazai crying as he perhaps ought to be.

So many people think of Dazai as a cold machine, especially anyone who knew him in the mafia, but Dazai feels. Of course he does. That's Ango's whole issue. It’s only that... well. Used to being on the receiving end of nothing but Dazai's anger, his petty bitterness, Ango had allowed himself to forget that the man is capable of so much more.

“I did promise you that I would do better by you this time, when we began this,” Ango says, “And I… didn’t wholly live up to that, I don’t think. We should have had a conversation about that meeting. I should have known it would hurt you.”

Dazai shakes his head. “You find it too easy to fake it, still. Am I wrong?”

Ango sighs. Lets his shoulders drop heavily. “Maybe. Are you a saint, yourself? Do you ever drop your masks around your new agency friends? Do they know how many you’ve killed?”

Dazai is quiet for a moment. Ango wonders if he’s struck too deep of a nerve, if those tears are still stinging in Dazai’s half-lidded eyes. He does not let go of Dazai’s stubborn hand.

“I also swore to you that I would be better,” Dazai says hoarsely, “That I would let my anger lie, in the interest of building something new.”

Ango runs his thumb over Dazai’s bony knuckles. “That you did.”

Slowly, ever so slowly, Dazai’s fingers intersect with his.

Ango gives Dazai’s hand a tentative squeeze, as gentle as though his very bones were glass.

“That's exactly why I'm talking to you right now,” Dazai continues, “And not making arrangements for a bomb hoax at your apartment block.”

“Am I supposed to thank you for that?” Ango remarks dryly. To his quiet delight, that makes Dazai giggle. His eyes squeeze tightly shut when he laughs, and the tears gather in the wrinkle of skin at the corners.

“There's my Ango,” Dazai says softly, and oh, god, lovingly. It makes Ango dizzy.

It's confusing.

“What... what do you mean by that?”

“Well,” Dazai says, “Before you insisted on torturing yourself every time you looked at my face – and believe me, I know I pushed you into it, you don't need to remind me – you were quite unashamedly funny with me, in a disparaging sort of way. I'd missed that wit.” 

“Disparaging?” Ango remembers what Dazai means. Oda would meet Dazai's weirdness head on, and Ango was always the foil for their antics, the one who played it straight. None of it feels real, now. If not for Dazai standing in front of him with the same shared memory, Ango could be convinced it was only something he saw in some tragic play, and not something that he lived. It hurts to remember, still, a broken bone that healed wrong and aches in the cold. “You... liked that?”

“Was it really not obvious at the time?” Dazai's expression turns genuinely thoughtful. “You and he were the breath of fresh air I needed. My reality check when I was at my most insane. I thought it was clear that I worshipped you both.”

Ango suddenly finds it very hard to swallow. “No,” he says, with some difficulty, “I only recall seeing... how you felt for him. And... my own guilt, I think. Whenever you smiled at me I only thought of how I'd have to leave you.”

Neither of them can say his name out loud, even now. They tiptoe around the borders of grief, trying to grow something new from the rot within. Flowers pushing through cold concrete in an abandoned lot. 

“You have always held me at arm's length, haven't you?” Dazai says. Ango can't run away from that accusation, not when he's this close, this tangled up with him.

“I suppose I have,” Ango replies, a touch breathless.

Dazai closes what little distance is left between them and presses their foreheads together, cupping Ango's face with his free hand. Dazai has grown taller, Ango notices, and he has to look up now to see into those pretty dark eyes.

“You can let me in, you know,” Dazai tells him. “For fuck's sake, I gave you my heart, didn't I? Literally. I trust you. I hate that I do, I hate that I still need you, but you have to let yourself need me too or this all falls apart.”

“I do need you,” Ango cries out, squeezing Dazai's hand tighter this time. “I need you too much, that's the problem. I'm...” God, he feels flayed raw by all this. It's too much honesty for two men who make their living in lies. “I'm too afraid of losing you, after everything I've done.”

“Then stop pushing me away,” Dazai says. “Just because – what, you think you aren’t deserving of my affection? Because you’re afraid of the intimacy of letting me see the real you? Forget all that, just forget it.” He drops Ango’s hand and grabs his face with both hands. Deliriously, Ango notes the way Dazai’s smallest finger reaches all the way around to the back of his neck. Had his hands always been so big? “Listen. I know I can be… difficult. I know I can be an asshole. But just – let me have you, you fucker. And let me keep you.”

Let me keep you. Those words set something wild loose in Ango’s heart, something that flails and scratches and stings.

You could have this, it wails, rattling the bars of his ribcage. He wants you to stay.

“Dazai,” Ango says, softly. He tilts his head, leaning into Dazai’s touch. He can’t always tell when the man is being sincere – Oda had a knack for it that Ango never quite grasped – but he drops his pretences often enough around Ango now that he thinks he’s starting to see through them. “Don’t be cruel. Are you teasing me?”

“No,” Dazai answers, looking straight into Ango’s eyes, and the truth in it is so clear that it burns; like lake ice in your palm, a shot of vodka in your throat.

Ango feels it prickle in his skin, his hair, his tongue. He reaches up to curl his hand around Dazai’s wrist, feels the rough gauze of bandages under his fingertips.

Dazai’s lips part to take a breath – and Ango kisses him.

Sharing kisses is not new to them, of course. They began their quiet affair shortly before Dazai’s stint in prison, and continued it without pause after he got out. They have exchanged many kisses, spent many nights in each other’s embrace, but this – this is softer.

Pure, somehow, if that were something either of them were allowed to be.

Dazai pulls Ango closer, arms enfolding him, and Ango falls deeper into it, his hands circling around Dazai’s slim waist, his pretty waist –

It’s a lot. Ango starts to pull away first, still a little unsure, offering Dazai the space to back out.

Dazai, though, drags him back in, hands tangling in his hair, an unequivocal I want you. It’d be kind of an asshole move in any other scenario, but much like most things Dazai does nowadays, it’s an asshole move for the greater good, which means it’s allowed to fly.

Ango spreads his hands flat against Dazai’s chest, as though he means to push him away but knows he won’t. This embrace is all-encompassing, safe in its completeness, Dazai’s tongue tracing the edges of Ango’s teeth; his older, stronger hands cradling Ango’s head.

Dazai’s chest is broader, now, too, than Ango ever remembers it being back then – not that he’d held Dazai like this, in those days. He’d kept him at arm’s length, just like Dazai had said.

Not now. Not this time. Trial and error and trial and error and trial and fucking error it may take, but god damn it, Ango wants to make this work. For the sake of whatever shared legacy the two of them have left, and whatever shared future they might be able to build with the sheer force of this kiss.

Dazai is kissing him so hungrily, so fervently, and in the harsh press of his lips and hands Ango feels a sort of mirror image, the same stubborn need that burns in his own heart.

As soon as I want something it is lost to me? Not this time. Not again.

When they finally draw apart, it’s as one, in a single-minded and mutual exhale of breath.

They’re nose to nose. Dazai’s dark eyes are the colour of whiskey on a polished oak bar.

Kisses aren’t new to them – but kisses that feel like a promise? Kisses that are warm and genuine and offered up in totality alongside a bared soul?

Ango’s heartbeat hums in his throat, behind his soft, wry smile. “Does this mean you’re thinking of forgiving me?”

“Forgiving you?” Dazai almost laughs. “Forgiveness is… complicated. It’s not something I put much stock in, anyway.”

“Then what do you put stock in?”

“The now,” Dazai answers simply. “The present moment, and the people in it.”

“How can you?” Ango says, forlornly. It’s halfway between an accusation and a plea for understanding. How, when our past is such an all-swallowing shadow, the mire that we pushed through to make ourselves who we are?

“Don’t misunderstand me,” Dazai says quickly. “I do not forget. I refuse to. I remember the way things were, and the way they ended.”

Something in the sharp and stubborn way he says it… maybe Dazai, too, is beginning to lose the edges of the memories to time. How, exactly, did Oda’s hair fall in his face again? Ango recalls that his voice sounded different after an hour in a smoky bar, but was it deeper? Scratchier? The details are indistinct, a photograph half-developed, like trying to find the shape of the horizon with the sun in your eyes.

 I do not forget. Even now, Dazai is lying, in a way. But it’s a small lie, one Ango will allow him to keep; to hold close in the secretive dark.

“Still,” Dazai says. He takes a breath in, and seems to centre himself again. He doesn’t bother with the happy-go-lucky fake smile, the one that barely even hides the outline of his pain, a thin veneer of paint over scratches in the walls. He knows that Ango knows that he hurts. “You know, I always think it’s bullshit when someone says oh, but it’s what they would have wanted. About someone who’s dead. You don’t know that, and you can’t very well ask ‘em. But, I do… very firmly believe… that us, well, trying – trying to make something newer and cleaner and better, and rebuilding it as many times as it takes because hell knows we’re fucked up people but we want to make it as good as we can get it, and it’s not because we feel like we need atonement but because we just… want to. I think…” He has to quietly pause to take a breath, and Ango understands. Sincerity is a weed, a sick and tangled thing that grows too fast. It makes you choke on the truth.

“I think he’d like that,” Dazai says eventually. “Do you… disagree?”

“You really don’t think he’d still resent me?”

“I do not,” Dazai says, and backs up his point with a kiss to Ango’s forehead. “He was not the same as me. He was better with... forgiveness, and things of that ilk; although not perfect - nobody is. But like I say. I don’t know, not for sure. That’s just something you gotta carry with you.”  

Ango huffs a weary sigh, and leans forward, using Dazai’s shoulder to rest his head. “I know,” he says into the lapel of Dazai’s coat. The tan one – Ango knows why he chose that colour. He wonders if anyone else does, or if he alone gets to share that soft and fragile part of Dazai’s soul.

“I know you know,” Dazai replies.

“Don’t be so damn smug.”

“I’m not.” He rolls his eyes. “It wasn’t like that. I meant to say that… you know. I get it.”

“You don’t do guilt,” Ango accuses him.

“Not really.” Dazai’s smile is pained. Not for the first time, Ango wonders if sometimes he wishes he felt more than he does. If he has ever wanted to atone for his crimes, for his brutality. “But I understand it. And I understand… the circumstances of it.”

Ango is still leaning on Dazai’s shoulder, and Dazai has to twist his head sideways to awkwardly press a kiss to Ango’s cheek. It ends up halfway on his ear, but that’s okay. They’re trying.

“You carry your pain,” Dazai says, “And I’ll carry mine. And that way we’re in it together – sort of.”

“Is this your version of empathy?”

Dazai shrugs. The motion half-dislodges Ango’s glasses. “Take it or leave it.”

Ango straightens up, looks Dazai in the eye. “I’ll take it,” he says, “For better or for worse.”

“For better, I hope,” Dazai says in a whisper so soft Ango can’t even be certain he meant to say it out loud.

“Yeah,” Ango says, “I’d like to think we tend towards the better, now.”

Dazai kisses him again, and the softest wingbeats of a fledgling hope start to flutter in his lungs.

Better this time, they said. We’ll do better this time.

[spiderfunkz]

✧.* silver soul

— summary : after everything that has happened, you try to live again, to try to forget and move on. but the thought of all the memories you've had with a specific redhead can't seem to get out of your head.

— pairings : natasha romanoff x gn!reader

— word count : 0,9k

— warnings : major character death, angst angst angst angsttttt, reader is an avenger (they're basically in clints position in that one scene), mentions of isolation, losing a loved one, depression, grief, nightmares, not getting enough sleep, pet names, foul language, let me know if i missed any, no happy ending.

a/n : this is so messy i am so sorry + sorry if some of the things mentioned don't add up to the timeline or just don't make sense in general :,) canons kinda off of the table this time & this is basically based off of silver soul by beach house. also english isn't my first language so expect some typos maybe (italics are memories/flashbacks)

🎵 it is happening again,

it's two am in the morning, your back aches as you sit up on your bed, trying to gain your energy back.

at this point, this has become a routine. waking up earlier than the whole of new york, sitting on your bed for a few minutes before all of the memories start to come back like stone hitting a window.

fuck, you muttered, rubbing the back of your neck. when was the last time you had a good nights sleep? oh wait.

🎵 it is happening again,

the sun reflects on your soft skin as you woke up, groaning, pulling the sheets back up.

"morning, love." natasha whispered, kissing your cheek. "how did you sleep?"

"amazing." you smiled, "dreamt of you."

mornings like this is something you would always love, waking up in the perfect time and sharing the rest of the day with your perfect girlfriend.

"yeah?" — "mhm, dreamt that we had a house in the middle of flower fields with cats." you continued.

"someday we will, maybe when we get married. i promise." natasha replied, holding you close.

🎵 it is happening again oh,

'i promise.' it echoes through your mind, what if things never got that complicated? maybe you could've lived your life with nat.

but it didn't.

she broke your promise and you lost her. and the worst thing is that you can't do anything about it. you didn't have the power to do anything anymore.

you've lost yourself.

🎵 it is happening again,

it hurts to think about all the promises you've made with her. you're being dramatic maybe, but come on.

yes, you knew how hard you and nat's job were sometimes, but you've always found a way to manage it.

you loved it and hated it at the same time.

you loved how it saved you from the horrible place you came from, you loved the moments you spend in the tower, you love the family and memories it has given you, and you love the relationship that grew between you and nat.

but you hated how it took that away.

🎵 the bodies lying in the sand,

you would do anything in the whole universe to switch your positions in that moment.

sometimes you wake up hoping natasha's there beside you in your bed, as it was all just another nightmare.

but that never happened, your shared bed is now cold on one side. the kitchen that was once filled with the smell of nat's cooking is gone. the living room now felt dead, there was no more dry jokes to make you laugh, love notes that causes butterflies in your stomach, cuddling that makes you feel warm.

those are all just memories, moments that can't be shared again.

🎵 they're moving in the dark,

'a soul for a soul.'

your heart was beating rapidly. hanging on the edge of a cliff in vormir isn't what you had in mind.

especially when your holding your lover with every single muscle and energy you have.

"let me go."

you needed to think of something, you can't let go, not when you've spent every moment with her making promises and plans just for it to go away.

"let me go, y/n."

"no! no! just let me think nat, i can figure something out."

you always do, you've found ways to get out of certain situations your entire life, so why can't you think of one now?

tears were streaming down your face, your arms were burning to let go but you couldn't.

she could see the fear in your eyes, how your hands were starting to sweat.

"it's okay, love, it's okay." she repeated.

"please don't." you sobbed.

🎵 it is so quick to let us in, we feel it moving through our skin,

you yelled and yelled, cried and cried.

she was gone, actually.

you closed your eyes and try to muscle up all your strength and get back up to get the stone.

this is what she would've wanted, for all of this to end peacefully, to save millions of lives even if it meant her own.

"y/n wheres nat?"

fuck damn it.

you were trying your best to keep yourself together, but you didn't realize how badly this question could hit you.

the realisation in their faces made it worse.

you were all basically family.

you shook your head and sobbed, wishing that you could've just switch positions.

🎵 it's a sickness, infinite quickness,

you've attended her funeral and stayed there many times. talking to her as if she was still there. she was still there in you.

you've isolated yourself from everyone and everything for a month and maybe more.

the scene of her falling replaying in your head and nothing could shake the thought of it off.

sleep is just for nightmares that replay the same image, waking up now feels empty, showers are just attempts at drowning out all your thoughts, and living isn't that good anymore.

the memory box gathering dust in the corner of your room as you refuse to open it as it is too much for you.

everytime you try to open it you feel sick. you've tried contacting some of your friends for help but it was no use.

you've tried going to the gym to relieve stress but it just gave you memories of training with natasha.

for the whole month you've gotten out of your apartment 7 times.

2 times for groceries,

1 time for the gym,

2 times as an attempt to rebuild your relationship with your friends,

1 time to chat with clint,

and 1 time to just, try and live again.

even with all of the attempts you've made, a huge piece of you is still with natasha. and nothing could ever fix that.

🎵 it is happening again,

🎵 it is happening again,

🎵 it is happening again,

🎵 it is happening again.

[feyhunter78]

Hi it’s El again! Sorry for so many I’ve been busy and not had time to submit the ideas. Can I have an aegon one where he’s being forced to marry and meets a woman whose more interested in the flowers in the garden than meeting him. He grows a liking and when she rambles about flowers he’s just staring like a lovestuck puppy and when she stops and apologises for rambling he just makes her continue. She then confessed through flowers and he only realised cause he looked through a book on language of flowers that he borrowed of off Aemond who teased him for liking a girl. It ends with them going to viserys and saying they would like to get married and be together

Don't even worry about it, El!!!! I was super busy with work, so this ended up being perfect timing!!!! I am a big fan of flower language, Moonflowers actually has different flower names as chapter titles in AO3 with their meanings in the notes XD, so I already had a website ready that could give me flower meanings!!!

The Language of Flowers

Aegon detests his betrothed, she’s cold and callous, much too religious, and hates drinking. She refuses to spend time with him and doesn’t even laugh at his jokes.

 You, in comparison, are warm and kind, you strive to spend every waking moment with him, and think he should give up his position as eldest son and travel the realm telling jokes from the back of Sunfyre. Or, well, that’s what he believes you’ll be like until you look up at him with annoyance in your bright eyes.

“You are stepping on my peonies.” You said curtly, shooing his booted foot away as you go back to gardening.

“Apologies, I was merely struck by your beauty.” He said smoothly, kneeling beside you. “How is it that, among all these blossoms, you are the most radiant?”

“Oh wow, I have never heard that before.” You said in hushed awe, meeting his gaze,

Aegon puffs up his chest. “Yes, well, as the heir to the Iron Throne, I must have a skilled tongue.”

“I thought Prince Aegon was the heir.” You said, feigning confusion, and fighting back a giggle at his ridiculousness.

“I am him.” He said proudly.

“No, a prince would no better than to interpret a gardener at work, besides Princess Rhaenyra is the king’s heir.” You said, digging another hole for the rose seeds to be placed into, not caring if dirt got on Prince Aegon’s trousers.

You heard him stammer, flabbergasted, before he stood and yanked you up with him.

“I am Prince Aegon, you will speak to me with respect.”

“Okay.” You said, before attempting to go back to work.

“What is so special about those flowers anyway?” He asked, pointing at the flowers you’ve been replanting.

Your eyes light up, and Aegon’s stomach flips in a way it hasn’t done since he was young. “We’re hosting the Tyrells soon, and we wished to convey a message of welcome in the language of flowers.”

“The language of flowers?” His eyebrows scrunched together in confusion as he stared at the flowers trying to see if they had writing on them, and he’d just never noticed.

“Yes, each flower has a different meaning.” You pointed to the different flowers as you rattled their meanings off. “That means humility, the other, friendship, and then simply is meant to symbolize cheerfulness.”

As you continued telling him the meaning of every flower in the garden, he couldn’t help but hang onto your every word, his heart, and stomach doing things he thought they’d lost the ability to long ago.

He watched you with interest, genuine interest. You had a way of making everything around him not seem as boring as if often did.

You noticed his staring and stopped. “I am sorry, I get lost in my excitement at times.”

“No, please continue. I find it all quite fascinating.” He chuckled and sat beside you. “If you had taught me instead of my septa, I would have come out as smart as Aemond.”

You ducked your head but smiled as you continued rambling.

It’s not until some time later that you gift Aegon with a bouquet. He’s never been given flowers before and when you tell him, they’re a gift simply because you enjoy his company, he has to subtly wipe the tears from his eyes.

He began claiming they’re from the sun, but you just smile, and give him a chaste kiss on the cheek before returning to the garden.

He has the servants put them in water and seeks out his brother. “Aemond, I need a book on the language of flowers.”

“Why?” Aemond asked.

“Because I do.”

Aemond rolls his eye and rifles through his shelves before handing Aegon the book. “Wait, does this have anything to do with the pretty young gardener?”

Aegon snatches the book from him. “No.”

Aemond raises an eyebrow. “You have fallen for her.”

Aegon make an offended face. “As if.”

“Then you will not mind if I pursue her? Seeing as you are already betrothed.”

Aegon sees red. “If you even think about looking her way, I will tear out your good eye.” He snarled, storming out of Aemond’s room, his brother’s laughter following behind him.

Aegon sits in front of the flowers, thumbing through the book. “Gardenias, pink Camellias and red tulips.” He muttered to himself.

Gardenia: You are lovely, Camellia, Pink: Longing for you, Red Tulips: A declaration of love

Aegon reads their meanings over and over again before dropping the book and sprinting into the gardens. He sees you talking to his father and handing him a bundle of freshly cut sunflowers.

“These should brighten up your room, my king.” You said, smiling as you handed them to him.

“You are too kind, Lady y/n.” He said, smiling as well.

“Y/N, father, I must speak, in front of you both.” He kneeled before you, taking your hands in his.

King Viserys looked as shocked as you did.

“Lady y/n I have read your message within the blooms, and I wholeheartedly return it. I love you, and I wish to wed you.” Aegon said breathlessly.

You glanced at the king. “My prince, I—”

“I have never seen such fire in my son. This is wonderful.” King Viserys said, his smile widening as he clapped Aegon on the shoulder.

“You will allow it?” He asked hesitantly.

“Of course, Lady y/n has brought me such joy with the flowers she brings me, and if you are willing to kneel in the mud for her, then she is obviously more than capable of wrangling you.”

Aegon stood, and thanked his father before his eyes turned to you. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes, a thousand times, yes.” You said happily.

On your wedding day, your bouquet carried a message meant solely for Aegon, who gave you a mischievous smile before he kissed you, intertwining your hearts together like ivy.

(Ivy: Affection, Friendship, Fidelity)

Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @svtansdaddyx, @fan-goddess, @dc-marvel-girl96, @shintax-error, @bellameshipper, @the141bandicoot, @the-phantom-of-arda, @haydee5010

[lauren-no-why]

💕🎥💎!!

ok ok while my work computer is tied up crunching away at bird data:

💕 tell us about one of your favorite characters and why you like them!

Oh my god you've given me permission to just go off endlessly on Johnnie, you're a gem.

For the folks reading this who don't already know him, Johnnie Redmayne is an absolute joy. Kid brother to the two current (well, 1967 current) leaders of the World Enders gang, Johnnie is a thrillseeker, a hedonist, the type to leap before he looks, to live with zero regrets, and most of all, he just wants to have fun. There are a lot of implied but not explicit-in-text reasons for this that have to do with the World Enders being centered primarily in East LA, primarily nonwhite and/or of lower economic class, mostly young rebels during an era of counterculture but instead of the white hippie flower child route they're out there causing violence and mayhem and just loving every minute of it.

Anyway, Johnnie is also dead, murdered essentially in a drug dispute, though that's kind of underselling it but I won't rewrite the whole premise of Vide Noir here. But because this is the time and space and cosmic horror fuckery fantasy drug made from the ashes of dying stars and the void between time and space and reality or whatever, he's presumably confronted with some REALLY HORRIFIC things as his mind is slingshotted out into the void where the dead don't so much float as drown as they're fully overwhelmed with whatever goes on out there. And Johnnie? Well - who the heck does this. He's like "uhhh, no thanks! Nope, I hate this, and I'm not going peacefully, death sucks and is boring at best and really really fucked up at worst, so I'mma take a rain check and go back to where all the fun is. Seeya." And now he's a ghost, out making fun of Buck Vernon on midnight desert highways and probably causing a lot of problems for other people because that's way more fun than the alternative.

He's a character who has the potential to be saddled with so much darkness and misery, so much trauma, and I'm sure it's all in there but instead he's not going to dwell on it or make it his personality because that sucks man. He's taken the World Ender ethos to a new level - live your life how you want, die if it kills you who cares, and skipped past the dying normally part right back to the existing for the sake of finding joy in the chaos and destruction and the booze and the ladies and the not being crushed under the heel of cops and an oppressive society but instead sticking it right back to them.

Anyway this kid is hilarious and wonderful and I sure hope he surfaces in the next album and also Eddie Sandstrom is an absolute delight and he better come back to reprise his role even if he doesn't really look 18 anymore I don't really care.

I'm going to stop and move on now even though I really could keep going. Have a pic.

🎥 do you have any favorite scenes from your hyperfixation?

Buddy, it's the Dead Man's Hand scene in the movie, how could it not be. Hey Ben feel free to remake this all you like forever, you're doing great.

Also Until the Night Turns if that counts as a scene, because it does in the movie that plays in my head. Massively underrated song by the fandom, this does so much heavy lifting with the characterization and setting and people need to pay it more attention.

💎 are there any fun facts or trivia that you would like to share?

More! fun! facts! yes let's see. Oh, I think a fun one that's easy to miss is that we actually have an image of Buck Vernon's driver's license and the contents of his wallet. So now you can all know his birth date, height, eye color, etc plus the fact that he keeps SO MANY PHOTOS OF LEE with him. I love this kind of stuff. It's a movie prop that doesn't actually surface in the movie in a viewable form other than I think one of the photos, which is why this isn't on the wiki as not being in the movie itself makes it sort of borderline canon, but it's on the prop designer's website as an example of her work.

[sanderssidesthehouse]

Can you do Patton for the character bingo? I've seen a lot of different takes so I'm curious to see what you think.

-🌻🌼

Hi flower anon! I'm a little nervous about this one ngl but I will do it for you.

Circle sizes represent how confident I was marking a box. Not a lot of confidence on this one bc I'm still conflicted. I think further resolution of his arc might solidify how I feel about him, or change it completely.

I don't really like Patton Sanders and that's my toxic trait, but HEAR ME OUT. I don't want to convince anyone not to like him, in fact I'd love to convince people of all the reasons they COULD possibly like him! Just like bc of my real life personal experiences, I'm not very fond of him. He is not my blorbo 😔 I don't hate him, but I do mildly dislike him. (As a character I think he's great, his conflict presents a fascinating narrative that I enjoy quite a lot.)

"But Ace," I hear you saying, "you said you don't like him and yet you still think he's being done dirty by fans?" To which I say "Yes, absolutely, there are people out there liking and disliking him for the wrong reasons!" (In my humble opinion.)

Patton is NOT an innocent little baby who needs to be protected, NOR is he a manipulative asshole. He's just a guy trying his best who messes up sometimes. He should be treated like an adult with agency and be given some grace for when he stumbles.

He does care about his famILY and he tries so hard to show it, but he's always felt like he has to know the correct answers and that they're depending on him. And tbh with how much c!Thomas defers to Morality, I get it. When someone is constantly looking to you for answers and it's your job to have them, saying 'I don't know' is scary! But he and everyone else should really try to be brave and say 'let's figure it out together' rather than confidently giving an answer that has a good chance of being wrong. But again, I do understand the crushing weight of these expectations.

I think it's really clever that Morality got paired with Emotions, bc emotions are what drives morality. Different people have different emotions that more strongly affect their morals, with Patton, we see compassion as a primary motivator, but also fear. The fear of slipping into the category known as 'bad person' and the fear of that categorization being permanent. And then bottles that fear up out of shame. Very catholic guilt of him.

I do feel bad for Patton where we left him bc he's finally going to get the help he needs, but somewhat at the cost of the love and respect of his famILY. Roman feels betrayed, Virgil hates Janus, and Logan... Well he's got a lot going on right now anyway.

I prefer Patton when I'm looking at him through the lens of his relationships to the others. He really does his best for them, he's a sweet guy. He tries to be encouraging and he clearly knows the other three very well. And with Janus I think the strongest negative emotion he feels is occasional annoyance, you know, like when he was impersonated. He seems to actually kind of like him otherwise. Not the biggest fan of Remus, which is an understandable side effect of him not yet having sorted himself out. He's trying now, so I'm sure that will come with time.

Also his froggy traits are sick as hell and I hope we see more, I want to see more, make him a frog please, I beg. That's like, the high point of his character to me, I actually had to come back and edit this after I scheduled it to include that bc holy crap Patton's a frog and I love that for him, but I also love that for ME.

So why don't I like him? I have intrusive thoughts and moral ocd and personal trauma I'm not going to get in to so like... He's just so unbelievably frustrating to me as he currently is. Also it just irks me that he's clearly not as naive as he pretends to be and it just boils my blood when people play willfully ignorant. He's doing it bc he's scared, but isn't that why everyone does it? It's still bad, and it causes a lot of damage. I'm of the opinion that if something scares you, you should learn everything you can about it. Logan said something like that once and he was right.

He just makes me feel the need to tell people they don't have to be a moral paragon to be good or do good things or be deserving of happiness, health, safety, and love. I get it's his job and all, I just really can't separate a character like that from all the stuff I had to learn and unlearn for my personal health and safety. And maybe I actually just want to say that to him. Maybe the problem is that we're too similar in all of our worst traits and seeing a grim reflection where once stood a cheery mural is upsetting. Maybe it's Maybelline.

Idk, I might actually like him. I'm very wishy washy on this subject. I think I can manage liking him while also disliking him. I'm very talented. I would love for everyone to tell me all the reasons they love Patton! I think he's neat and I'd love to like him.

[storyteller-kara]

Writing Questions

Thank you @valisilissa-koilos for the tag!

What is your absolute all-time favorite idea you’ve ever had?

My favorite idea I ever had would be my current WIP, The Fall Of Septhis. Out of all my stories I written in the past, this one is going to be my first finished novel. The idea at first was a small one for my bigger stories, until I expanded it more. Making it the first to come of many more down the line.

Is there a question you’ve been asked in the past that really stands out to you, and you still think about sometimes?

I haven't been asked a ton of questions but one question I love and think about is the type of flower that represents my current WIP. I love the idea of having a certain flower that symbolizes something have the same idea to symbolize my story. Makes it feel more connected to our word even though it's fiction.

What is your favorite part of being a writer? What parts could you take or leave?

My favorite part of being a writer is seeing how people take my writing and either ask questions or want more of it. To see people love my work and generally want me from a very small names writer makes me so happy. I love answering questions about my work it helps me expand on my own word more.

(I answer any questions lol)

What is your greatest motivation to write/create?

My greatest motivation I would say are my friends. Such as @valisilissa-koilos and her wife. My irl friends and even the friends I also make online. For me to finally find people who support me with something I done on my own for years makes me always want to write more. Also music is a great motivation for me cause I can imagine so much from them.

What is the best piece of advice you’ve ever read or been given as a writer?

It would have to be from my old creative writing teacher, she told me there is no such thing as a bad idea. And that of you can dream about it, you can write it.

What do you wish you knew when you were first starting out writing?

I wish I knew how tricky English actually was. Looking back and even now I'm still a bit bad at English. I used to make up so much words which weren't properly spelled right. If I understood English was so tricky, I think I would have a better handle on it.

What is your favorite story you’ve written to completion? Link it if you’d like and can!

That would have to be my very short story called His Eyes. It's a short story with two of my favorite characters who absolutely hate each other to the point that their fate is intertwining with their hate. Out of all the short small stories I made of them, this one is my favorite. (You can read it here)

Which of your characters would you say has the most controversial mindset? Why do you say so, and how do you personally feel about their ideals?

I would have to say Zelos. He's one of those characters that even though they believe they're doing the right thing or in general believe something is right, nine times out of ten it's not. Sometimes I feel like he sounds like he's been brainwashed, other times I feel like certain things he's say is so dumb.

If you, when you first started writing, met you now, what would younger you think?

Young me: Did we ever publish those FNAF stories?

Older me: *light chuckle* No we didn't, but we made something even better.

Young me: So we still write?

Older me: Yes, we do. And we can finally call ourselves an author.