#castle rock headers

[irafuwas]

The Enemy Summary: Lilia did not call the child "Silver" because of the lunar gleam of his hair or the starlight in his eyes. No, he chose the name out of spite. Content Warnings: Depictions of violence against a child, strangulation, blood, expletives, book 7 spoilers Pairings: None Length: 3.8k (Header artwork from here)

You can either read it after the cut or on AO3!

The princess’s death struck the nation like a meteor. The Knight of Dawn had killed her, contemptuously, brazenly, at what was meant to be a peace conference. Before the fae could even draw their swords, he and his troops had scattered like a bevy of doves into the golden light of daybreak. Most of the congregation rushed to gather around their sovereign’s limp body, but not Lilia. He stood at the window, staring at the backs of the retreating soldiers, transfixed by the reflection of the sun blazing in their iron armor, a yellow blot in a sea of white fire. It looked to him like an evil eye.

Dazed by the hot stupor of his great injury, Lilia hunted down the man and killed him. And then he killed the man’s wife, and then the chambermaids and the kitchen staff and the guardsmen and the stewards. He executed them impulsively; their bodies fell before him like heavy ragdolls slumping to the ground.

The glint of his blade was a bright smudge in the darkness of the castle that night. It moved through the air like an emerald wraith – at times languidly, at times striking faster than an adder. For those who’d sought refuge in the pitch-black shadows of the underground passageways, its viridity was the last thing – the only thing – they saw before it pierced them.

His path was methodical.

He stalked from room to room, listening for stifled breaths and choked back sobs, tearing apart every quivering shadow and wrenching open every closed door. He found the pageboys cowering together in one of the storerooms, their small faces shining white with a vicious fear. He told them to run, and they did. They fled crudely, tripping over the hardstone floor and entangling their wiry colt limbs into each other as they stumbled down the halls.

He waited until they left before moving on to the final room. He’d overlooked it earlier; the door was concealed within the tall bookcases that lined the knight’s bedchambers, and he’d only noticed it after one of the maids had left it ajar as she fled. He flung open the door apathetically and marched inside, scanning the room for any sign of life. A wooden object in the corner caught his eye, and a sharp unease pooled in his stomach once he realized it was a cradle.

When he peered inside it, a baby with eyes the color of the aurora peered back up at him. He had seen those eyes before, staring down at him triumphantly as a sword plunged through his sister’s chest, staring up at him from the pale face of a corpse lying in a pool of blood in the adjacent room. And now those same eyes blinked at him dully, as though he were the source of all the light in the world.

He didn’t know the Knight of Dawn had already sired an heir. No one did. He placed a weary hand on the cradle and rocked it absentmindedly as he thought. He easily could’ve walked away, could’ve turned around and left that rotting pit behind him and reemerged into the night’s black embrace, could’ve gone on to live the rest of his life wallowing in the murky waters of his deep grief. And he should have. But he knew, with a firm surety that scared even him, that his grieving peoples would soon come to claim the boy - long before the first light of dawn could reach down its shining hands and begin to soothe their wounded nation.

Lilia’s hesitation possessed him. His gaze flew between the cradle and the door and back to the cradle again. He reached down and gripped the baby’s throat. He stood there, dazed, unable to tell if he was fighting the urge to complete the act or the urge to let go. The muscles of his forearm bulged and tensed, writhing like pale snakes underneath his skin. When the child smiled at him, he ripped his arm away as though he’d been electrocuted.

After a final moment of trepidation, he plunged his arms back into the cradle. His hands had torn that castle asunder mere moments ago, and now they trembled quietly as they pressed the heavy head into the warmth of his chest.

The night held its breath as he left that place. The only witnesses to his transgression, the somber oak trees surrounding that land and the black-eyed creatures concealed in their lofty boughs, watched him silently. He tried to ignore their expectant gazes, but they dug into his skin like daggers as he raced back to camp with the child in his arms.

Later, when he stood with Baul in the heavy heat of their tent and confessed what he’d done - and what he had failed to do - the man nearly exploded.

His barrel chest swelled in contempt. His face flushed hot with a venomous rage. He loomed over Lilia as massive as a grizzly bear, his thin lips pulled back into a snarl, the whites of his eyes blazing like spotlights out of his ashen face.

“Are you fucking insane!?” he roared. “That… That thing is that bastard’s son! It’s the enemy!”

“Baul, I can’t kill a baby,” Lilia croaked.

Baul scoffed. “So you can slaughter a whole castle full of people, but a baby’s too much for the Great General Vanrouge, huh?”

Lilia looked away, and Baul continued, aggrieved, “Fine. If you won’t do it, then I will.” He tightened his grip around his halberd, and the wooden staff groaned in his hand. He dipped the axe head towards the baby sleeping in Lilia’s arms.

“No!” Lilia yelled, taking a step back. “Please, just… just give me some time… A decade. Give me a decade, and then I’ll do it, I’ll kill him.” He licked the cold sweat running down his lips, his eyes flicking between the glowering man and the axe hovering before him. The cold metal shimmered threateningly in the dim candlelight.

“Sure you will,” Baul spat, retracting his weapon. “Sure you fucking will.” He stormed out of the tent, muttering angrily as he threw back the tarp with a growl. The stifling air evaporated with his departure, and Lilia took a deep, shuddering breath. He looked down at the child and sighed.

When Lilia returned to the castle town, he discovered that Baul had revealed his great failure to the rest of the world. In the wake of their general’s betrayal, he and the other guardsmen had ransacked Lilia’s room in the barracks, carelessly strewing his meagre belongings before the castle as though they were garbage. Lilia found the blanket from his cot entangled in the branches of one of the courtyard trees, fluttering sadly in the gentle spring wind. He dislodged it and wrapped it around his body, using it as a makeshift sling for the child.  

None of the guards, not even Baul, came out to speak with him. They didn’t need to – he already knew their judgement was final. He stooped over as he gathered the rest of his items, weighed down not by the tiny infant strapped to his back, but by the enormity of his decision, of his failure. Here was the home he’d spent the last three hundred years of his life defending, here was the honor and prestige he’d finally won for himself after centuries of flawless servitude and thankless atrocities, the only family and friends he had ever known – would ever know. He understood that he was a traitor, a fool, but his inanity was far overshadowed by his revulsion at what they demanded from him.

He looked up at the castle one last time, craning his head back, trying to memorize every jagged stone and turret and tower, trying to memorize the curve of the windows, the green of the flags flapping weakly in the breeze and the faded grey of the ancient masonry. He stood there until the strained muscles in his neck begged him to stop. And then he turned around and left.

His legs carried him unbidden to the edge of the forest surrounding the castle town, where he found a small house hidden in its verdant shadows. The walls were rotted, and the roof lay sunken under a tangled mass of vines and moss. He couldn’t tell whether humans or fae or wild beasts had last lived there; he only knew he was too tired and too apathetic to continue his search elsewhere.

The first night in that house, they slept on the floor. The child dozed soundly, but Lilia could not sleep. He stared at the stars peeking through the holes in the roof, counting each pin prick of light until his eyes burned. As the black-blue sky began to fade, he realized with a start that he didn’t know what the boy’s name was. He raked his exhausted brain for something – anything – he could call him over the next ten years. The answer struck him like a bolt of lightning.

Silver. It wasn’t a name; it was an utterance. Two syllables that weighed heavy in his mouth like poison - air that passed between his lips and nothing more. It was a word he’d hiss on nights when the mist lay heavy over the forest and his mind would sink into the quicksand of old memories he wished desperately to forget, when he’d dream of his sister’s face, pale and drained of blood, her mouth frozen open in a scream that would never come out. The Silver Owl had tainted his heart the darkest black, and this was his chance to finally rid himself of their scourge forever.

From then on, Lilia kept the boy at a distance. He fed him and bathed him and clothed him mechanically, moving most days like a puppet on strings. He tolerated being called “Father”, but staunchly refused any concessions beyond that. His anger was a bulwark against the child’s affections.

Only during the winter would Lilia let the boy sleep next to him. The small body would shiver offensively at his side, interrupting his faded dreams, and he would groan and tuck the thin creature against himself before falling back into an uncomfortable sleep. He would push the child away as soon as he awoke the next morning, repulsed, as though the thing clinging to him were a disease.

It wasn’t just the boy’s neediness that vexed him. Lilia hated everything about him, hated his shy half-smile and his crescent-eyed laugh, hated how the walls around his heart he’d spent so many long years carefully constructing would groan under the terrible weight of the boy’s love. But what disturbed Lilia the most was his eyes. Many of the valley residents were dumbstruck by them – they’d murmur how, on the night of his birth, Nature surely must have plucked the northern lights from the sky and pressed their iridescent glow into his supple skin. But Lilia only saw evil in their lunar beauty. And he watched, incredulously, as the boy grew older, stronger, the infantile roundness of his face hardening around the angle of his jaw, watched the back straighten, the eyes narrow, the smile broaden, watched the child melt away and the visage of his sister’s murderer slowly and steadily emerge in its place. Some days he felt suffocated, like every inch of that small cottage was tyrannized by the boy’s meagre presence. The only thing that stilled his hand was the child’s youth. He could not kill him yet.

The days were long, but the years whipped past him like a tempest. The hot coals of his anger gradually cooled to a tepid warmth, and Lilia at last conceded to the child’s innocence. He wore the clumsily made daisy crowns and ate the burnt and misshapen cookies, he no longer denied the pleas for one more race across the meadow and one more story, accepted the tiny hand that groped across the bed for his own on cold nights when their breath hung above them like fog.

A year before his tenth birthday, Lilia began taking the boy with him on his evening walks. As they padded through the darkness of the hushed forest, Lilia would teach him the names of all the wildflowers and the trees, of the prying creatures observing them from the black shadows, of every star and moon and planet that peered down at their upturned faces. One night, emboldened by his newfound knowledge, the child thrust a single, bony finger into the air and betrayed where the North Star had concealed itself in an ocean of shimmering lights. Lilia looked up. But his gaze did not follow the line of the boy’s indication, beyond to the heavenly body shining above. No, his eyes rested on that tiny, outstretched hand. In that moment, Lilia finally understood that he loved the child.

The realization that he had surrendered his heart to his oppressor, to his enemy – to the hand that’d been gripped around his throat for the past ten years and had torn his beating heart right out of his chest – paralyzed him. (Oh, but what is a decade of pure torment to eyes of liquid moonlight! What is a man – shriveled up and broken, stupefied by his hatred and rendered ignorant by his grief – in the face of pure love!)

He tried, in vain, to suppress his burgeoning feelings with the heavy mass of his anger, but his love would burst open the fortifications of his heart time and time again, threatening to drown him in its raging waters. He fought back against it the same way he had been the past decade - with his ignorance. But as the child’s tenth birthday rapidly approached, he found that for the first time, he no longer took solace in counting down the days.

Lilia awoke the child shortly after midnight. He tugged on the boy’s arms until he finally sat up, grumbling as he rubbed at his tired eyes, only dimly aware of the world around him. Lilia sighed. He dressed the boy impatiently, his fingers trembling as he fussed with the lacing on the small tunic. While he worked, his eyes darted between his sword hanging on a nearby wall and the child sitting slumped over in front of him. He decided against taking it.

He led the child outside into the balmy spring air. The heat prickled at his skin. He inhaled deeply, forcing out the tension gripping his body as he exhaled. Somewhere in the distance, an owl let out a plaintive call, and a nightingale began its serenade in reply. The moon was a shining pearl overhead. Lilia could not bring himself to look at her face, didn’t dare defile her perfect visage with his great shame. He turned and stepped down the dirt path leading away from their home, and the boy followed.

The forest watched disdainfully as the man and the young child walked deeper and deeper into its bowels. Once, the boy asked where they were going, but Lilia did not answer. He felt too shy to speak again, and they spent the rest of the journey weighed down by a pregnant silence.

When they came to a glade, Lilia finally stopped. He turned around slowly, like a cornered beast reluctant to face its hunter.

The boy’s eyes – the enemy’s eyes – reflected the moonlight. The evil shone dimly in their argent depths.

Lilia lunged at him like a panther.

“Fath-!”

They slammed into the ground with the force of a hurricane. The boy cried out as his back struck the earth, pain shooting up his body like shards of ice. He lay there stunned. He could not understand what had just hit him. It had looked like a black storm, impenetrable and overwhelming. His mind blankly refused to reveal its identity to him. But he knew it could not have been his father that struck him, and he knew it could not be his father now pressing those cold hands around his throat and staring down at him with eyes the color of blood.

Not once in his life had the boy ever known fear. He had always ignored it, looked past it, content with the knowledge that his father would always be there to protect him from its ploys. Anything that scared him, anything that invited unease into his stomach or agitation into his heart, was dispelled in the comfort of the man’s steady presence. But now his father was the thing itself. An animal panic gripped his body, his eyes blew wide open like a spooked horse.

They wrestled. He tried wrenching the arms away from his throat, but the bony limbs felt like rods of iron under his hands. He clawed and pounded at the man’s chest, his mind racing as tried to remember every movement, every self-defense technique his father had ever taught him. When the whirlpool of his thoughts stilled for a split second, he ripped from its calm waters the lone memory he’d been desperately searching for. The boy hooked one hand over his father’s wrist and gripped the other one higher up his arm, around his elbow. He kicked a leg free and swung his foot over his father’s ankle. The hands tightened around his throat. The world blackened before him; his lungs begged for oxygen. Using the last bit of his strength, he bucked his hips and rolled over, bringing Lilia underneath him. The hands at last released their grip; he was free.

He shot away from his father like a bullet. He scrambled to his feet and feverishly gulped in the warm spring air until his lungs burned. He took a trembling step forward, trying to flee, but Lilia was upon him in an instant. The man wrapped his arms around the heaving chest and threw the child back to the ground, crashing into him as they fell. The boy writhed frantically in the cage of his father’s arms, almost slipping free, but Lilia shoved him flat on his back with a snarl. He crawled atop the boy, straddling him once more.

The child fought back feebly. His hands pawed against Lilia’s arms, his face, anything solid his trembling fingers could grab onto. Lilia swatted away the flailing limbs, trapping the boy’s arms in one hand and seizing his throat with the other. The child’s screams contorted into a panicked screech as white stars exploded before his eyes. He kicked up his legs and thrust his knees into Lilia’s back, but the man was immovable, his arms and legs pinning him down as heavy as pythons.

Lilia’s hand tightened around the thin neck; the child’s heartbeat pounded against his palm like a thunderstorm. The boy’s flesh melted underneath his fingertips as soft as dough. He squeezed until the eyes began to burst from their sockets, until blood seeped into their auroral haze and foam spilled from his half-parted lips.

The seconds passed by in an eternity. At last, the child’s body stilled, his gasps terminating with a final, strangled sob. Lilia released the neck slowly, marveling at the purple-black splotches blooming across the skin, the imprint of his hand stark against the ivory flesh. He closed his eyes and panted, exhausted.

He sat there, waiting. For a decade he had envisioned this moment, had clung to it like a promise of salvation, had dreamed of the pure relief that would wash over his body and befree him from the prison of his immovable grief. He waited, but it did not come. The enemy was gone, yes. But with it fled the black shadow of Lilia’s anger that had obscured the child from him all his life. He looked down. His eyes flew open in shock. For the first time in a decade, the first time since he peered down into that cradle all those years ago, he finally saw the boy. He finally saw Silver.

“Silver!” he gasped, recoiling, as though the name burned him. He threw himself off the body and crawled away from it on his hands and knees. He pulled himself up against a tree and doubled over as he began to vomit. It felt like this was the pure poison of his rage leaving him - like a decade of repressed anger was erupting from his body all at once, pouring out of his throat and his nose in a scalding torrent of acrid bile, burning his eyes, his lips, his tongue. He stood there heaving until his knees gave way, collapsing into the ground with a mutilated groan. As he rubbed his raw throat, he suddenly remembered the boy.

He whipped his head around in a panic and found Silver lying motionless where he’d left him. Lilia staggered over to him. The few meters between them seemed to stretch on for miles, and he tripped and stumbled as he clawed his way across that great divide, falling to his knees once he finally reached him. He cradled the limp body in his trembling arms. He kissed the boy’s eyes, his cheeks, his forehead, his lips slipping weakly across the wet mess of tears and blood. He pressed his face into the silken hair, filthy with dirt and grime from the forest floor, breathed in his soft lavender scent, drowned in the milky white flesh, ice cold against his own feverous skin. He nuzzled his face into the crook of the boy’s neck, choking back a sob as he felt a faint pulse throbbing weakly under him.

Silver’s mind reentered the world conscious only of the sharp pain in his throat and his father’s white face hovering above him. He stared at his father, and for the first time in his short life, the man did not look away. The eyes that had long haunted Lilia, had aggrieved him and insulted him, finally revealed to him their beauty. They were bloodshot and swollen, the skin underneath enflamed with irritation, but they were more resplendent to him than any gemstone.

Silver swallowed weakly and opened his mouth to talk, but Lilia shushed him with a shake of his head. As he gazed at the boy, a faint memory flashed before his eyes – he remembered the heavy head pressed into his chest, the limp neck resting in his hand, the wet mouth opened in a gasp, the shining eyes boring into him silently. Lilia shivered violently. Yes, it was just like that night, all those years ago. The days-old babe he’d stolen from that cradle was in his arms once more, born anew before him.

As he embraced the child, he decided that he would try to do better, to be better. He would try, falteringly, with the desperation of a marked man begging for a pardon, to rectify the decade of his ignorance.

He would try until it no longer hurt him to speak his son’s name.

#lilia vanrouge #twst silver #twst #twisted wonderland #twst spoilers #sorry if this is cringE im not using to writing evil stuff dfkgjdfg #when i said i been brainrotting about ch 4 this is what i meant #also tried writing in past tense for this which i dont like to do cause its gross but i did it #obligatory no i do not condone or aim to glorify any of this

[someiconsx]

the kid (castle rock) - headers (part 10).     ✧ like or reblog if you use/save.     ✧ @dearcardan on twitter.

#the kid #deaver boy #castle rock #castle rock icons #castle rock headers #castle rock layouts #bill skarsgard in castle rock #the kid icons #the kid headers #the kid layouts #bill skarsgard #bill skarsgard icons #bill skarsgard headers #bill skarsgard layout #bill skarsgard as the kid #bill skarsgard as henry deaver #bill skarsgard castle rock #the kid castle rock #bill skarsgård #bill skarsgård icons #bill skarsgård headers #bill skarsgård layouts #bill skarsgård in castle rock #bill skarsgård castle rock #bill skarsgård as henry deaver #bill skarsgård as the kid #pennywise #it #it 2019 #it chapter 2

[dancingdayss]

𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐢 𝐩𝐞𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬

#red hot chili peppers #the red hot chili peppers #rhcp #music #rock #headers #rock headers #80s #90s #twitter headers #anthony kiedis #john frusciante #flea #chad smith #hillel slovak #dave navarro #slane castle #give it away #aeroplane #the zephyr song #fight like a brave

[behindblueskars]

bill skarsgård headers.

-simon, roman & martin.

like or reblog if you use them!

#bill skarsgård #bill skarsgård icons #bill skarsgård headers #roman godfrey #roman godfrey headers #behind blue skies #simple simon #roman godfrey lockscreens #roman godfrey imagine #roman godfrey x reader #bill skarsgård x reader #bill skarsgard #castle rock #it cast #the kid #the kid x reader #pennywise #bill skarsgård imagines #bill skarsgård lockscreens #bill skarsgård layouts #henry pearl #battlecreek #axel cluney #zeitgeist #zeitgeist x reader #zeitgeist imagine #headers #hemlock grove #godfrey

[loserstuffs]

bill skarsgård headers | please like/reblog if u save

#bill skarsgard #bill skarsgård #bill skarsgård edit #pennywise #psd #it packs #roman godfrey #hemlock grove #castle rock #bill skarsgard headers

[billskarsgard-stuff]

bill skarsgård as the kid/henry deaver in castle rock

please like/reblog if you save

#bill skarsgard #bill skarsgard icons #castle rock #tv show #icons #random #bill skarsgård #bill skarsgård icons #henry deaver #the kid #the kid castle rock #henry deaver castle rock #it movie #serie tv #bill skarsgard headers #headers #headers random #icons random #castle rock icons #icons bill skarsgard

[7weird-teen7]

bill skarsgård twitter packs

• please like/reblog if you save/use •

#bill skarsgård #castle rock #it #deadpool #pennywise #stephen king #hemlock grove #the kid #roman godfrey #bill skarsgård aesthetic #bill skarsgård packs #bill skarsgård icons #twitter packs #twitter headers #twitter headers pack #headers #twitter #icons #aesthetic #packs

[jamesshawgames]

Art Assets Preview Part 2

Me again (sorry, been getting a lot of exciting stuff through today!)

Time for our second Art Assets preview post. I just got the finished version for the last four chapter headers, by the always-brilliant Matthew Ryan (http://mattr.org.uk/ ). As before, each one shows a significant location from the relevant chapter. We have, in order, Wewelsburg, Ariadne Stokes’s Transylvanian castle, Hagia Sophia, and Cappadocia.

More amazing work. This game will look good!

EDIT: And yeah, I know what the rock columns in the last one look like. Get your minds out of the gutter! There's nothing we can do about that, that's just what they look like irl!

#relics 2 #relics series #relics of the lost age #interactive fiction #hosted games

[lilacpotter]

Lillaaaccc!!!! Your layout is soo pretty 😭😭 I love the purple so much and thr header with planets and stars fhdjsjs 🥺🥺

Imma in love 😌💕

Also.. pls post some drabble 😭😭 I miss reading your work. Pls. Short drabble would work too. I smile sooo much when I read your drabbles fjdjd 😭😭

Pls 👉🏼👈🏼

Okay bye. Love you 😌💕

Broooo!! First of all, HAPPY FUCKING BIRTHDAY DHARAA!! omgg ❤

And thank youuuUuU. <333

 I’m so fucking sorry I’m this late but I got it finally done. And pleassseee, take this more than 8k words “drabble” as your birthday gifttt!! I’m not sure how it really is but I hope it’s gooddd aah. I had been writing and rewriting it for the past three days djhsfsf 😫😹

Here we gooo <3:- 

5 and 7

“What if I stole your crown right now?”

Those were the last words little Isak got to hear before prince Even snatched the golden crown with a mischievous grin and started running away. He chased after him, screaming in agony. He was dramatic, yes, so what? He was five and he could throw a tantrum if he wanted to. And also, don’t you dare call him little. He was big for his age and smart too.

 He sped up his pace, trying to run as fast as he could in this thorny garden with his little prince feet, his golden curls tossing here and there on his head. But Even was taller and faster than him, so he outran Isak within no time with his giraffe legs, and Isak came to a stop somewhere in the middle, panting and falling onto the grass backward with a dramatic sigh. He laid there star-fished and watched the sky instead for a while.

 It was autumn and the leaves were falling on his small face and it was warm and Even was back here in Oslo after a whole year, at the Valtersen palace. Even’s parents ruled a small country named Phitogin in the east side, and even if it wasn’t nearly as big as Norsk was, they were really close to Isak’s parents since their own childhood. So, they always paid a visit to Oslo every year during autumn and that was the only time Isak ever got to see Even and play with him and make sandcastles and blanket forts.

He squinted up his eyes at the bright sun, as if commanding it to shine a bit lesser, but of course, that wasn’t possible. He knew the sun was way bigger than earth and way hotter than the royal soup that was served to him whenever he fell sick. He wouldn’t dare mess with the sun.

He was about to put a hand over his face to shield himself instead, surrender to the great sun, when a dark shadow blocked the light above him.

“Hello, my little prince,” Even was grinning down at him mischievously, his hands behind his back.

Isak narrowed his eyes and sat up straight. “Where is my crown?” he demanded.

“Who knows?” Even shrugged, still keeping his hands behind himself. And Isak knew he was hiding the crown there.

So he pounced up and tried to grab Even by the shirt, but Even was quicker because he moved away in time.

“Give it back to me!” Isak yelled, jumping again. Even grinned wider, dodging him.

“No, little prince. You will ruin my hard work if you see it.”

“Don’t call me that,” Isak said, offended. “I am not little!”

Even smirked. “Oh yes, you are. You are very little, tiny. Look, you are even smaller than me!” And then he burst out laughing.

“I am not!!” Isak glared at him. He was not little. So he launched himself on top of Even to attack him. They both wrestled for a few minutes furiously, punching each other’s stomachs before falling to the ground on top of each other, breathing heavily.

When Isak opened his green eyes back up again Even was hovering above him, putting his crown back on his head quietly. Isak frowned and moved his hands up to touch the crown and see for himself what Even had done to it, but he didn’t let him and instead removed the crown again.

“Even, show me my crown!” Isak complained, reaching up.

“No, you will ruin it!” Even refused, shaking his head.

Isak grew more suspicious, so with narrowed eyes, he warned Even, “If you broke it or put tiny worms on top of it then I am not going to share my space blanket with you tonight.” He poked his little finger into Even’s chest to tell him how serious he was being.

Both of them knew how much Isak loved his space blanket and how much he loved sharing it with Even and the people he liked. If Isak refused to share it with anyone then it meant he didn’t like them enough.

Even, instead of being scared of Isak’s warning, grinned back at him again, all teeth and crinkles.  

“Oh no, little prince. I wouldn’t dare break it or do anything such horrendous to your precious crown!” He said, widening his eyes dramatically.

Isak squinted his eyes at him. “Really?”

Even nodded furiously before slowly bringing his hands to the front, holding Isak’s golden crown in between his palms. It was shining in the afternoon sun as usual, too bright and too lustrous, but as Isak leaned in a bit nearer he noticed designs of pretty flowers all over it. Even had doodled on his crown.

Isak took his crown gently before looking at all the doodles. There were so many colourful flowers and they were all really pretty. There was one of Isak sitting on a throne, and another one of Adolph, their pet dog, and another one of Isak and Even on the bed watching the stars above them. There were just so many of them and they made the crown look so much better!

Isak was smiling without even knowing, his heart was flying, but Even probably had noticed it because he suddenly asked, “Do you like it?”

Isak could hear the smile in his voice. So, he morphed his face back, trying to look more annoyed than pleased, and glared at Even.

“No, I hate it! You ruined my crown, Even.” He said to his face trying to sound furious.

But Even grinned at him instead. “Oh really? Then why is there a smile on your face?”

Isak widened his eyes, turning red. “What? No there isn’t!” he protested, but he couldn’t stop smiling. And soon within no time Even laughing loudly.

“Oh my god, you’re such a bad liar!” He giggled.

Isak rolled his eyes, pretending to be annoyed. “Shut up! I am leaving.” He said, before turning away and stomping dramatically to the castle.

“Of course you love what I did to your crown, little prince. I do too. I’ll make you more of these the next time we meet!” He heard Even shout from behind him loudly and Isak ducked his head, picked up a tiny rock, and threw it back at Even, missing him narrowly.

 7 and 9

“Ugh, why do we always have to sleep together whenever you visit me? Why can’t you sleep in your own separate room?” Isak complained loudly to the dark, sighing when he got no reply.

So, he shuffled closer and pushed Even’s chest. “Evennnnnn!” he whined when the older boy let out another soft snore and pulled Isak’s blanket much tighter around himself.

“Hmph,” Isak sighed in defeat before slumping back and resorted to just staring at the dark instead when Even finally spoke.

“Maybe it’s because they think you are too little to be sleeping on your own at night.” There was too much sarcasm in his voice and Isak turned to him in surprise and suspicion.

“You were awake?!” He screamed in offense.

Even grinned at him in the dark, his teeth shining bright. “Did you actually think I had been sleeping this whole time?!”

Isak couldn’t believe him. “Oh my god,”

“Yes, and what’s wrong with me sleeping here?” said Even, shuffling closer to Isak noisily.

“Nothing is wrong.” Isak huffed. “You just keep stealing my blanket and I get cold!”

Even shuffled much closer until he was almost hugging Isak from the side. “Oh, I’m really sorry about that, your grace. But look! Sleeping together is not really that bad because you get to cuddle me and I’m much warmer than your precious blanket.” Even said, wrapping Isak’s little body with his arms and pulling the younger boy into himself.

Isak squirmed against him, groaning. “Ugh, go away!”

“Never in a million years,” Even mumbled, shoving his face on top of Isak’s fluff of curls. They were a tangle of skinny limbs.

“ugh,”

Isak tried moving away but he was failing so hard at it. So he gave up a while later and slumped against Even’s chest, feeling his chest rise and fall back as he breathed. He felt oddly at peace a while later and drifted into sleep easily. The blanket lay forgotten by the corner of the bed.

 .

 11 and 13

“What if we sneaked into the kitchen right now?” Even suddenly said, sounding excited.

Isak groaned at him. “No way. We won’t be sneaking out to the kitchen right now in the middle of the night.”

“But we will!”

“We won’t,”

He saw Even pout at him in the dark. He had gotten a new haircut and he looked ridiculous and although it shouldn’t have bothered Isak, it did. He couldn’t get to bury his fingers into those long blonde strands of hair from now on.

“But I’m hungry,” Even mumbled. “Pleaseeee, let’s go.”

Isak shook his head. “No one is hungry at night, Even. Stop making things up.”

“I’m not!”

“Yes, you are?”

But Even wasn’t listening. He got up and already started pulling Isak up by his hands. Isak let out a loud groan before giving in and following the older boy out of the room.

It was dark outside and so they tip-toed quietly down the stairs. At one point they were almost caught when a guard heard Even’s stomach growling in hunger. They giggled to themselves and sneaked through the corridors and halls until they finally reached the kitchen.

Once in the kitchen, they both started shoving as many food items as they could in their pockets. Even tried carrying half-eaten raspberry cake from the day before but he slipped and ruined it instead. Isak laughed out so loud that he was sure he had woken someone up but thank god no one stopped them.

It was chaos. But they were finally done, looking more chubbier and puffed up because of all those food stuffed in their pockets. They were giggling silently as they walked back out of the kitchen when they stopped dead as they spotted a boy of about Isak’s age staring at them in shock.

It was Magnus. He was the butler’s son.

.

 13 and 15

 “Do you think any one of them will like me?” Magnus asked, sitting beside Isak and eating large ice cream.

Isak wasn’t paying much attention to what he was saying because his eyes were trained on Even. Even had gotten much taller recently and his hair was longer and he looked even more prettier.  Shit. No, not pretty. He looked good. But Isak couldn’t help but think it was such an understatement. Even had even started getting a bit of muscle.

Isak watched him smile and beam and flirt with other girls in the castle hall. A weird kind of jealousy was stemming up in his body and he had no idea why. It was weird and new and made him feel all jittery.

“They look so pretty, don’t they?” Magnus was saying beside him.

Isak nodded absently. Yes, he is really pretty.

“I have never even talked to them, forget about touching them. Their skin looks so soft, Isak. I just want to touch them once. Isak, are you even listening?”

Magnus’s voice snapped Isak out of his thoughts and he blushed. “Uh, what?”

“The girls!” Magnus whined, nodding over to the bunch of girls who all looked way too interested in what Even had to say. Isak hated them. “Aren’t they beautiful? Why are girls so pretty?”

Isak bit his lip and nodded. “Even, uh, boys are pretty sometimes, I think.” He said slowly before he realised what he had just said and his heart sped up. Oh no.

Magnus hummed beside him, considering. “True. Even is really pretty if I’m being honest.” He stated it as a fact and Isak snapped his head up to look at him.

“What?” He couldn’t believe his ears.

“What?” Magnus laughed in confusion. “Even is pretty. That’s why girls love talking to him, isn’t it?”

Isak’s mouth was parted slightly. He just stared at Magnus for a few seconds before looking down, his cheeks flaming. “I guess so, yeah, um, Even is really pretty.”

“I told you!” Magnus hollered in joy. “I want to be pretty too. So girls would want to talk to me too. Don’t you think?”

Isak nodded again, biting his lip.

“I’m really pretty, huh?” Even’s voice came over and Isak looked up to see that he was walking over to them both. Oh, God. Had he heard what Isak had just said? It was going to be bad.

Isak flipped him off instead of saying anything and that earned him an ‘Oyy’ from a very surprised and an amused Even.

“We have already started learning this kind of things, I see.” He nodded over to Isak’s middle finger which was still sticking out in his direction.

“Magnus taught me.” Isak shrugged and then watched Magnus hug Even tightly for a moment before letting him go.

“We were just talking about how pretty you are, bro.” Magnus said, looking excited and Isak blushed again. Gosh, Magnus. Why couldn’t he just shut his mouth?

Even looked at Isak with his eyebrows raised. “Oh, really? Yeah, I did hear the prince say how pretty I am. It’s an honour for me really.” He smirked and Isak wanted to combust right then and there. “You should start calling me ‘pretty prince’ from now on then, Issy. It’s a nice name, isn’t it? Just like yours is, little prince.”

“Why are you such a dick?” Isak said, narrowing his eyes at the taller boy.

Even laughed out loud and when Isak flipped him off again, Even blew him a kiss instead went back to join the girls, this time taking a very excited Magnus along with him, leaving Isak feeling all flustered.

Gosh, why was he feeling like this recently? Isak did not like it. It was weird and just strange. He had never felt like this around Even before. And the fact that recently most of his dreams consisted only of Even touching him in weird places was also not helping things at all.  

What the hell was really happening?

 14 and 16

 “Even, are you even listening?!” Isak said tiredly for the fourth time that day, but Even still kept staring blankly in the opposite direction.

So Isak reached his hand out that held his wooden sword and poked Even in the stomach. “Asshole!”

At that finally, Even looked up at him in surprise.

“Should I tell the queen you have started swearing nowadays? Hmm?” He broke into a mischievous grin.

Isak sighed exhaustedly. “We are learning to sword fight and you keep zoning out all the time! What’s up with you? Stop thinking of your girlfriend all the time.” He said, spitting the word ‘girlfriend’ out with as much spite as he could muster. Yes, he was frustrated and annoyed and pissed right now, so what?

Even had gotten himself a girlfriend two months back. Princess Sonja of the realm of Sweden. And she was all he ever talked about. Of course, Isak had a right to be pissed.

Even rolled his eyes this time. “I am not thinking of Sonja, excuse me. I’m listening.”

“No you are not!” Isak countered back, waving his wooden sword around.

“I am! I am not thinking of her, Issy, now come on, let’s practice.”

“Yes, you are!” Isak said back, pausing his practice entirely. “You are always thinking of Sonja. You always spend your time with her, kissing her and complimenting her and telling her she looks good and I bet you wouldn’t sleep in my room anymore if your mum allowed you to sleep along with Sonja! Of course, she is always on your mind. You forgot about me. It’s as if I don’t even exist to you! And now you can’t even practice sword fighting with me because you are always only thinking of her.”

He exhaled deeply after his outburst, and he knew there were tears in his eyes, hot, burning tears. but he was keeping them at bay from falling down and making him look weak. He wasn’t weak. Even was watching him back with wide eyes, his mouth falling open slightly.  

“That’s not true.” He whispered finally, after a beat. “I didn’t forget you. I can never forget you, Is.”

His eyes were blue, blue, blue.

Isak stared into them for a few seconds before he couldn’t take it anymore and had to turn away. His heart broke a little inside. He never thought hearts could break, he had always believed that was all bullshit. But apparently, it was true.

Oh gosh, he was being super emotional again. So he wiped his tears and tried to shed off his sad feelings. He wasn’t weak.

“Doesn’t matter. I am just gonna practice and you can just keep thinking about your pretty girlfriend.” He mumbled before swinging his sword onto the big loaf of meat hanging in front of him.

He gave it a couple more shoves. Up and down. Right and left. Hard and quick. He hit the sack again and again, at various spots, from various angles, with various tricks and moves. It was hard, but he knew it was worth it. If he was going to be a king someday, then he had to be ready.

  Even kept standing beside him, and Isak hated that no matter how much he tried he couldn’t not pay attention to Even. Had he zoned out again while standing there? Thinking of Sonja?

But then Even spoke and Isak groaned, “What if we ditched dinner and went to the garden right now?”

Isak frowned deeply. “No way, I’m not coming.”

“Yes, you are.” Even smirked before walking up to him and snatching the wooden sword and throwing it to a pile on the corner.

No way. Isak was not going to agree to him this time.

.

Isak found himself laying on the green grassy ground and staring up at the orange-hued sky half an hour later. His head was on Even’s lap and Even was weaving his long fingers through his sweaty curls.

“Stop doing that. I smell gross and I’m sweaty.” Isak mumbled when Even started running his fingers all over Isak’s face. It tickled him so he laughed.

“You look so beautiful when you laugh,” Even said softly, staring down into his eyes and cupping his jaw.

“Ugh, stop,” Isak rolled his eyes, but he was blushing.

“Never, not in a million years.”

Isak smelled in the flowers’ scent and relaxed. “I can’t believe I am actually here with my head on your fucking lap of all places.” He scoffed quietly.

Even chuckled from behind him. But he was too busy to reply apparently because he was ruffling around the garden, plucking something off. Isak couldn’t see properly so he watched the sky again, at the birds and the clouds. Everything was going good.

When he felt something on his head a while later he looked up at Even, silently asking him what it was.

“I made you a flower crown,” Even said simply, resuming to arrange it on Isak’s head properly.

“But flowers are for girls. Not for boys. You should keep it on Sonja’s head instead.” Isak mumbled.

Even scoffed from above him. “There is no such rule like that. Who’s teaching you all these?” He sounded truly disappointed.

Isak shrugged, his shoulders shaking Isak’s legs beneath them. “The royal teachers? People? Isn’t it how it always is?”

Even made a small sound, disagreeing with what Isak had just said. “Flowers are for everyone, Isak. For boys, for girls, for animals, and for everyone and everything, okay? There is no such thing as only meant for girls, or only meant for boys. You can do whatever you want. Stop believing this stuff you hear, Isak. You have always loved flowers, what happened to you now?”

Isak shrugged again, his heart felt heavy. He knew he loved flowers even now. He had always loved them. But mamma had always told him to not like girly things, that he was a boy and that he was supposed to like wars and horses and rough things, not things that are soft and pretty. He wasn’t a girl.

  “Do you really think it’s okay if I like flowers?” He asked, his voice small.

Even sighed quietly above him and then he bent down slowly before kissing Isak’s forehead. Isak inhaled sharply at that.

“You are allowed to like whatever you want, okay? No one makes rules here, Is. Stop believing what others are telling you to do. You are my valiant prince and you will be a great king. A great king does not fear liking what he likes.” Even murmured to him, weaving through his curls again. “A great king is not afraid to be himself. Will you be a great king for me, Isak?”

“For you?” Isak licked his lips.

“Yes, for me.”

“Yes. I would do anything for you.” Isak admitted out loud, and he was surprised by his own boldness.

He heard Even smile when he said. “So would I,”

Isak blushed at that and ducked his gaze down, away from Even’s face. And watched the early stars.  He loved spending time like this with Even. He hadn’t done this in so long. It felt good that Isak could take his mind off Sonja for a while.

“You look really pretty in a flower crown, do you know?” Even hummed from above him.

He retreated his hand back from his hair and cupped Isak’s jaw again, tilting his head so that he could look into his eyes. “You are so pretty,” he said, making Isak blush again.

“Ugh, fuck off,”

“What? I’m not lying. You are the prettiest thing I have ever seen,” Even said, widening his eyes in honesty but he was also grinning.

Isak wanted to punch him. “Even more prettier than Sonja?” He asked instead, averting his gaze away from Even’s intense gaze. He regretted it the moment it was out of his mouth. God, Isak.  

He had no idea how long it was, but when they finally got up from there and got back to the castle, it was completely dark. The only thing that was shining were the moon, stars, and Even’s eyes.

Isak showered and got dressed in the softest pajamas before getting into his bed and reading some thick book that he had found in the library.

He wasn’t really expecting anything when Even finally climbed into his bed quietly an hour later and it was dark, pitch black. Isak pretended to be asleep, so he snored softly, and it also helped that he was turned away from Even.

Even tossed and turned around for a while, before cuddling Isak from the back. Isak tensed up a little in his hands before he melted against Even’s chest. Why was he being this tense? They did this all the time. So he leaned back and let Even cuddle him instead. It felt really good, and he felt warm and his eyes started fluttering on their own in no time. He wasn’t expecting anything even when he was just drifting into his sleep slowly, but then he heard Even softly murmur against his ear, “Even prettier than Sonja.”

It almost brought him out of his sleepy daze. Almost.

.

 16 and 18

“Shut up,”

“What do you mean, ‘shut up,’ I’m just trying to fix your bangs. You look pretty when you are grumpy, you know?”

“Shut up!”

“Alright, but don’t you think it will be a bit too much if I pulled my shirt up right here at the hall?”

“Oh my god!”

“All the girls would start swooning at me because I am so hot- ouch!”

Isak punched him in the stomach before hastily pulling his hand back and smiling at the guests. Even watched him with wide eyes by his side.

“You don’t think I’m hot?!” He whispered in outrage. Isak didn’t give him the satisfaction of a grumpy snarky reply.

They were both in costly suits, standing at one side of the hall and greeting all the guests awkwardly. It was the royal ball and somehow people from many other countries visited here to have a nice time. Although most of them called him the ‘little prince Isak,” whenever they greeted him. Fuck you, he was not little anymore.

There was also this princess Emma who seemed way too fond of Isak because she kept looking over to him every now and then before turning away shyly.

Isak wasn’t fond of her.

“I can’t believe you just punched a prince in the stomach.” Even mumbled by his side.

Isak rolled his eyes at him. “I am a prince too.”

Even reached his hand out again and started fixing Isak’s collar with a concentrated look. “Yes you are, little prince.”

“ugh, stop,” Isak groaned.

“Never,”

“Hey guys!” It was Magnus, holding a tray of drinks and serving it to everyone. He looked adorable in his outfit.

“Hey, Mags! My bro.” Even greeted cheerily before hugging Magnus tightly.

Isak smiled at them both and took a drink off the tray. Magnus looked pleased to see two people he knew after all that crowd of new, strange, rich people.

“Bros, just look at all those princesses!”  He said excitedly, leaning in and waving a hand over to the bunch of pretty girls with crowns on their forehead. They were all eyeing Isak and Even hungrily and Isak wished he could escape. But his mamma and papa were watching him, so he couldn’t do that. “They are all just eating you with their eyes. Isak, man, what are you waiting for?! Go get one of them!” Magnus hollered.

“Nah, Mags. Not yet.” Isak said, sipping his drink.

“What do you mean ‘not yet’, bro?! They all look so pretty though! Go get some, and tell me how it went.” Magnus demanded.

Before Isak could reply, Even jumped in. “Isak is waiting for the right moment to score with Princess Emma, Mags. That’s why,”

Magnus looked around and when he spotted Emma, his eyes went wide and mischievous. He wiggled his eyebrows at Isak. “Oooh. Princess Emma, Issy?”

Isak‘s jaw tightened a little but he nodded slowly. Emma caught his eyes just then and he waved back to her awkwardly. She looked pleased with that gesture while the remaining princesses were scowling at her.

“Fuck, man. She looks so into you. What are you waiting for? Go get it or she will go for me instead if you wait any longer!” Magnus yelled into his ear loudly before leaving them both to serve other guests.

Isak swallowed and looked up at Even, who was gazing back at him.

“I am gonna go get her then,” he said, fixing his shirt.

“You know you don’t have to, right?” Even said instead, helping him fix his shirt. He tucked Isak’s shirt tightly into his dark pants making him squirm under his touch.

“Yes, but I want to.” Isak lied.

“Don’t lie, Issy. Do you even like her?” Even frowned at him, keeping a hand on the small of his back.

“I’m not lying!” Isak lied. “I really like her. She is very pretty.” And then he shrugged himself off from Even’s touch and headed over to Emma.

.

 An hour later, he found himself trying to dance with princess Emma. It was tough because they were both only teens and none of them knew how to dance or where to put their hands so they kept stomping each other’s feet instead. It was awkward, to say the least. But Emma didn’t seem to mind so much, she giggled and kissed his cheek and touched his hair, so Isak smiled back at her and tried his best because both his mamma and papa were watching and they looked really happy and proud of him. He was going to be the heir to the throne, after all, it was his duty to form strong bonds with other country rulers, and what was a better way than stealing their daughter’s hearts.

So, Isak danced and flirted and got drinks for Emma wishing there was another better way.

When they both were done, Isak headed out to the corridor to breathe in a bit of air and hoping to get away from Emma for a bit, but she found him again within no time. That girl really was too much. Isak felt like she was breathing down his neck every time she got too close to him. She was way too loud and way too giggly and kept falling all over Isak and touching him everywhere she could.

   He wanted to combust right then and there. But Even appeared beside him just then like a knight in shining armour.

“You both are having a good time, I see,” he grinned at them both, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“We are! Prince Isak is really charming.” Emma giggled from where she had both her hands wrapped around Isak’s neck.

Isak blushed because for some reason he couldn’t stand Even watching him like this.

“What if I do something stupid to save your ass from princess Emma right now?” Even leaned in, whispering into Isak’s ear so quietly that only he could hear.

Isak widened his eyes at him at that, then shook his head minutely saying ‘no,’ but Even just shrugged and grinned back at Emma.

Oh god.

“Oh, he really is very charming. No doubt.” Even agreed, sipping on his drink and leaning suavely against the wall. “Girls all over the city have a massive crush on him, you know.”

Isak looked over to Even with wide eyes. But Even wasn’t looking at him, he was looking at Emma.

“Oh,” Emma said, her voice was filled with surprise. “Really?”

Even hummed. “Yes, most of those girls are even ready to jump in to marry Isak if he asks them. They are that gone for him. He really charms them all well.”

Isak was barely understanding what Even was on about. This was totally not true.

“Charms them? What do you mean?” Emma asked, sounding suspicious.

Even blinked once and averted his gaze to Isak’s once, before looking back at Emma in amusement. A smile playing on his lips.

“You haven’t heard? He charms them all so well that many of them try seducing him right then and there. He says he refuses them but I know it’s a lie. Why would he refuse them when he just flirted with all of them, right? You can only imagine what goes on between him and all the girls over the city.” Even was full-on grinning now and Isak was blushing furiously even though none of it was true. “No wonder every girl is crazy for him.”

He then leaned in and whispered into Emma’s ear, “I heard he is also dating one of them in secret.”

What the fucking fuck.

“Shut up, that’s not-“

“-oh my god, really?” Emma interrupted Isak, her eyes wide as she looked up at Isak. She looked shocked.

“Wha- no! No, of course not-“

“Look, he is lying again.” Even said, smirking.

Emma removed her hands from Isak’s neck slowly and took a step back, making space between them. Isak felt like he could finally breathe.

“I- wow- I just uh, I am sorry my prince,” she cracked a laugh that sounded more broken than anything else. “I didn’t know you had someone. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have thrown myself at you this way-“

“-Emma, just don’t believe Even. He is an idiot. I’m not seeing anyone else.” Isak tried telling her, but she wasn’t looking at him.

“What? Oh, it’s okay, my prince. I don’t really care, but uh, I have some work, I’ll just leave I guess. Have a good time with uh, your secret lover.” Her face was comical as she excused herself from them both.

He watched her retreating back with his jaw hung open.

And Even had the audacity to speak. “You are seeing someone in secret? I’m hurt, Isak.”

“You fucking asshole.” Isak hissed at Even once Emma was gone.

“I was wondering why you hadn’t said that yet,” Even hummed, smiling.

“What’d you do that for?” Isak cried.

Even just shrugged at him. “Because you looked like you need help. Besides, that poor girl is gonna get nightmares of you every time she sees any other girl in the city. And you are mine so sorry, I can’t share you with anyone else.” He winked. He fucking winked.

“That was so fucking bad, Ev. I swear to god.” Isak groaned. “Ugh, I hate you so much right now.”

“No, you don’t. I saved you from a very clingy monster dressed like a princess.”

“Fucking hell, I am not talking to you again. I really liked her.”

Even raised an eyebrow at him. “Oh really? You liked her?”

“Yes. Why? Don’t you think I can’t like girls?”  Isak said defensively, furrowing his brows.

Even only sighed at him. “No, that’s not what I meant, baby.”

“Don’t call me a baby. Then what, Even? Do you think only you are allowed to get a girlfriend but not me? That’s fucked up.” Isak spat, annoyed.

“No- fuck, I’m sorry, Isak.” Even’s eyes were wide, and he looked like he was really sorry. “I didn’t mean it that way.”  

Isak stared at him for a beat or two before turning away. “Whatever. Go fucking enjoy with your girlfriend and leave me alone.”

.

 He knew he had over-reacted as he fell on top of his king-sized bed that night. He and Even weren’t sleeping together anymore and Even had gotten his own big room. He couldn’t even get the point of making them both sleep together for all these years only to separate them now.  

He was regretting his words and his reaction right now and was thinking of just sneaking into Even’s room to apologize to him when he heard loud familiar voices from his right wall. It was Even and Sonja. They were sleeping together now?

But then he started hearing words and curses and he knew they were arguing. Even had invited Sonja over here as well last week and Isak hated watching her stroll around arm-in-arm with Even day and night as if she owned him. He hated it, and he hated everything that wasn’t Even these days.  

Another string of arguments pulled him out of his thoughts and he focused on that now. They were clearly arguing, fighting even. He had never heard Even yell like this at anyone, but Sonja’s voice was even louder. They were having issues, and Isak had no idea about what.

A few minutes after the continuous bickering, someone slammed something hard onto the ground, and then there was this loud sound of a door shutting close. Isak knew it was over and someone had stormed out.

What was happening?

Were they breaking up..?

Isak’s heart was beating quick when the door to his room slowly opened and Even entered inside, looking worn out.

“I’m sorry, Is. Can I sleep in your room for tonight? Please.”  

.

.

.

“You were right. I didn’t like Emma. I never liked her.”

.

 17 and 20

 “What if I can make it up to you?”

 “Even, I just fucking hate you, alright? Leave me alone.” Isak said, slamming the room to his door loudly. He didn’t want to hear any more of Even’s bullshit so he went straight to his bed and fell on top of it, burrowing his face into the pillow Even always slept. He inhaled the scent and felt something stirring inside him.

A weight dropped beside him and the next second someone was cuddling him from his side. Fucking Even. Of course, he followed Isak back into his room. Even literally had no sense of privacy. Not when it came to Isak at least.

“Ugh, why are you here?” Isak groaned into his pillow.

“What if I can make up to you?” Even repeated, to his ear this time. It gave Isak chills.

“How?”

This year, Even was back only for a week or so and Isak was already anticipating him leaving tomorrow when today Even had the audacity to leave the palace and spend his more than four hours flirting with the village girls and boys.

Look, Isak wasn’t being possessive, or fuck it, he had no idea, okay? But he knew he was definitely not controlling like Sonja was. Sonja and Even had broken up and Isak really knew now what that whole argument or fight was about.

But that’s not the matter right now. He wasn’t usually possessive, but look, he hated that Even just left him like that on the last day he was going to spend here in Oslo before he would be back in Bergen. He and Even were supposed to spend their whole day together but Even had ditched him in the evening to flirt with some girls and returned back at dinner and he was going to leave tomorrow morning.

Of course, Isak was pissed and annoyed. Why couldn’t Even flirt with him instead?

Fucking Even.

 “I just can,” Even replied smoothly and Isak turned to him suspiciously.

“No, you can’t. I’m really hurt right now. Nothing can mend my broken heart.” Isak said instead. “And I really, really hate you right now.”

Even rolled his eyes at him fondly before cupping Isak’s chin with his hand. Then he leaned in and slowly asked, “Have you ever kissed anyone before?”

Isak shuddered at that. They were so close. “No, of course not, Even. You would know if I kissed someone. Stop asking all the weir-”

Even shut him up with his own lips, kissing him. Isak whimpered and let out a surprised squeak before furiously trying to kiss Even back. Holy fuck, he was definitely dreaming. He was kissing Even. And nothing had ever felt so right in the universe.

Even kissed him gently and softly, he wasn’t rushing it, like he was savouring Isak’s lips, memorizing the way it moved and the way it tasted. It felt like he was trying to please Isak and it definitely was working. Isak moaned and hummed around their lips. He couldn’t believe it. He went pliant in Even’s arms and let him kiss him again and again and again until Isak could only see and feel and touch only Even, Even, and Even.

 “Did I succeed in making up to you?”

“Hell yeah,”

 .

 19 and 22

 Isak was fucked. Literally. He just realized how much he was crushing on Even and how badly he wanted him that way. The way every boy wanted the girl. And he was fucked now.

He couldn’t take his eyes off Even’s naked back as he stretched and yawned in the early morning like a cat.

Isak watched his muscles flex and his spine stretch and shoulders move from where he was still pretending to be asleep with his blanket over his head.

Even looked good. He probably was one of the most handsome men Isak had ever seen all his life. Yes, Even was a man now and it made Isak swoon over him.

Just as Even got off the bed, he caught a glimpse of his collarbone, and Isak’s mouth watered as he imagined himself licking it. Gosh.

Even had returned back to Oslo again two years later and he looked so good. He had grown way taller and had gotten way more muscles. His hair was longer and swooped back on his head. It made him look so sexy and hot and Isak couldn’t breathe every time their eyes met. Someone kill him, God.

 .

“Is it bad I want him to do every evil thing he can to me?”

He said out loud, still drooling over the new, tall and hot version of Even as he practiced his sword fighting while Magnus fed the sheep beside him in the shed. He was getting really good at it and he had even defeated and killed some of the sworn enemy’s sneaky conspirators a couple of times. This was his favorite sword and he named it ‘Illuminati,’ because it sounded cool.

He heard something clatter to the ground and turned to look at Magnus who was watching him with wide eyes. “What the fuck, bro?”

Isak nodded gravely, not even caring about the fact that he just said ‘he’ out loud instead of a ‘she’.

“Who are you even talking about?” Magnus squinted at him, looking shocked. When he looked at where Isak’s gaze was pointing to, his eyes widened.

“Fuck bro. Even?”

Isak nodded again. Even was there, riding his black horse and greeting everyone on the way with a huge beam. He looked so pretty.

“Mags, I think I like Even.” Isak couldn’t believe his own voice. How was the feeling this brave to admit that out loud? But he was also fucking tired of lying to himself. He liked Even that way and he had known it for a long time but he never let himself accept it. He couldn’t do that anymore though. He just didn’t think he could keep it in himself when Even had kissed the last time he was here. The only thing that was repeating in Isak’s head was their kiss and how good it had felt.

He had kissed many girls after that, but all of them felt wrong. He realized he didn’t like girls. He had never liked girls. It scared him, but also comforted him, made him realize why he could just never feel the same like all his other friends did.

 “Seriously, bro?!”  Magnus came over to him. He was almost as tall as Isak now.

“yes,” Isak nodded, licking his lips and aiming at the sack with his sharp steel sword. It cut it in two halves.

Magnus looked mind blown, as if he just discovered some great theory. “Fucking hell, bro. That is awesome. Shit, I think I always knew why you looked at Even that way.” He was beaming so huge Isak wanted to shut him up.

“What way?” He frowned instead.

“The way I watch the girls.” Magnus winked at him and Isak groaned, blushing furiously.

“Fuck off,”

“But bro. What about Even then? Have you told him about how you feel yet?” Magnus shuffled closer to him, lowering his voice so that no one could hear them.

Isak’s heart clenched at that and his jaw tightened. “No, Mags. He doesn’t like me that way.” He cast his gaze down and started fiddling with his fingers.

Magnus looked almost disappointed at that information. “What? But how do you know?”

“I just do.” Isak shrugged. If Even did like him, he would have told him.

“Bullshit bro. Have you ever seen the way Even looks at you? He looks at you like you are the most precious thing to him. Kid you not, I thought Even had a secret crush on you for several years after we became friends.” Magnus huffed. “He definitely fancies you, bro.”

Isak bit his lip, considering what Magnus had just said. Did Even really look at him that way? Did he really like Isak?

“We even kissed,” He admitted quietly.

A squeak. And Magnus was right in his face now. “Are you fucking kidding? You both kissed?” He yelled, making Isak flinch. A few of the guards watched them with a stone face and Isak slapped Magnus’s arm so he would shut up.

“Yes, we did. Two years back.” He said.

“Fucking hell. Who kissed first? Details, Isak. I need more details!” Magnus demanded and Isak let out a groan, slightly regretting telling Isak, but he started telling the story anyway. About him getting jealous whenever Even flirted with other girls or whenever he was with Sonja, about their kiss and how Isak couldn’t believe it was finally happening, about how they never talked about it again and Isak was too flustered to bring it up so he pretended that it never happened, about how even now Even would sneak into his room at night and slept along with Isak, about how Even would always call him pretty and it used to make Isak question his sexuality. He told him everything, every single thing. He poured his heart out. And when he was finally done, Magnus was full-on grinning now and Isak couldn’t believe he just poured his heart out to Magnus of all people.  

“And now you can’t take your eyes off him,” Magnus concluded, looking back at Even out in the vast field.

“Now I can’t take my eyes off him.” Isak agreed.

“Fucking hell, this is like a fairy tale.” Magnus mused with a smile. Isak rolled his eyes.

“This is anything but a fairytale.”

Magnus waved him off and got up, dusting his dress and he went back to the shed. As he walked in, he shouted over back to Isak, “Looking at someone like they are their universe, kissing them, and sneaking into their bed every night doesn’t seem like something a normal friend would do, Isak. You should stop thinking so hard and tell him.” He winked before disappearing inside.

Isak stared back at him for several minutes before letting out a sigh. ‘A true king is not afraid to be himself.’ Even’s words rang in his mind after all these years.

He would have to do this then, wouldn’t he?

 .

 21 and 23

 “Even, I swear to god if anyone hears and informs my parents-“

-calm down, baby. Just enjoy.”

“They are the fucking king and quee- ahh“

Even dived back in and Isak moaned so loud he panicked he alerted the guards outside. But luckily, none of them barged in. Even didn’t stop, he kept going up and down, up and down and soon Isak was panting.

 When they both were coming down from their high finally, sweaty bodies on top of each other, Isak let out a giggle.

“Fucking hell,”

Even smiled down at him, then rolled back to his side. “I can’t believe I fucked the prince in his own room. I should get paid for this.”

Isak shoved him with a laugh before Even pulled him into himself and he rested his head on his shoulder.

“Did you know I begged my mum to let me sleep with you when we were younger because I liked you a lot and wanted to watch you sleep because you looked so adorable?” Even said, suddenly.

Isak widened his eyes at that. “What the fuck, really?” Even nodded back at him and Isak couldn’t believe it.

“Wow..”

“Yeah, I used to pretend that I was scared of sleeping alone here in your castle and somehow my mum believed it and your mum agreed to let us sleep together.” He laughed. Bright and loud.

And Isak laughed along with him too. Even rubbed his hand up and down his back and they calmed their giggles down after a while. They were together exactly for a year but only got to touch each other for two weeks and a half or so. Because they both got together the year before and Even had left again a week later and only came back here now one and a half week ago. So they were trying their best to spend as much time together as they could without making it more suspicious.

It was going fine, but they knew something had to happen first. They had to come out. They couldn’t keep living in secret like this forever. Isak didn’t want it and neither did Even. Isak was ready to die if he wanted, but he wasn’t going to let their love be imprisoned this way.

“What if we get caught one day?” Even said quietly, drawing circles on Isak's back.

“Then we explain to them. Tell them we are together,”

“And what if they don’t accept us?”

Isak shuffled closer to him. “We will flip them off and elope togteher.”

“Oh yeah?” There was a smile in Even’s voice.

“Yeah,”

“To where?”

“To a place where we are safe.”

“Okay. What if they torture Magnus over here because he supported us all this time.”

Isak scowled. “Then we take him along with us. Find him a girl. Marry them both.”

Even let out a small laugh. “That sounds really nice.”

“It does.”

“I’m so glad you asked me out that day, baby.” Isak lifted his face up and smiled down at Even.

“I am glad too. Or I wouldn’t be here with you right now, naked and kissing you.”

Even grinned up at him in the darkness. “And you wouldn’t have known how good I was at fucking you.”

“oh my god, you are so dirty.” Isak groaned, palming his face. They both laughed for another few minutes before Even resorted back to stroking his back softly.

“You don’t know how badly I wanted this. Us. You.” He said quietly, and Isak shook his head at him lightly.

“Trust me, I do. Because I wanted this too.”

Even stared into his eyes at that, a fond look on his face, and Isak did the same before they kissed each other again for a while. Isak slumped back into Even’s chest contently after that and they pulled the blanket tighter around themselves. It was a miracle no one ever came to check upon them.  

 “We really owe Magnus a lot, don’t we?”

 .

 24 and 26

 They were in Bali. In fucking Bali, during the fuming hot, summer.

Isak couldn’t believe it. It had taken so long for them to arrive here. They had to spend so much time on various huge ships and here they were finally.

Relaxing on one of the finest beaches, shirtless and with lemonades resting on either side of them. Isak had his country to rule, his own palace, his personal advisor Magnus and most important of all, his lover, Prince Even. So yes, life was going great. Except for one small thing. But he wasn’t going to bring that topic up now.

Let’s talk about something else. First things first, Isak is a king now. Yes, he is a king but not Even. Because Isak’s father passed away two years back in the battle and now he was crowned the king of the Norsk. Even’s parents were safe and sound, thank you.

 The year Isak became a king, he knew he had the power to come out as a homosexual and claim Even as his lover, openly and freely, and people wouldn’t object. Wouldn’t dare to. His own mum had accepted them both so of course, none of the people really cared very much. As for Even, it’s his story to tell, but in the end, he was accepted by his parents too.

And now, here they were, in Bali. Having a vacation after a successful battle the previous year. Even was Isak’s boyfriend and Isak was Even’s. It was good. Life was good.

Except for that one small thing that was bothering Isak for the past two months.

“I love it here so much, Isak, God.” Even whined from his side, interrupting Isak’s thoughts. He stretched and Isak stared at his beautiful, long body. His lover’s body.

 His heart bloomed every time he referred to Even as a ‘lover’.

“What if we just stayed here for the rest of our lives?” Even asked, looking at Isak with a smile. He looked gorgeous in the sun. He had tanned a little in the past few days.

“Then we will.”

Even grinned wider and turned to his front before slowly making his way over to Isak with his elbows and finally stopping by his chest.

“No, because I want to see more of the world. I want to see the world with you.”

Isak stroked through his blonde hair and kissed him. “I’ll take you anywhere you want.”

Even melted in front of him and his smile turned much softer. “I love you,” he mumbled, kissing Isak’s nose and then hovering above his lips.

“I love you too,” Isak murmured back, and Even was kissing him the next moment.

They made out for a while in the sun, rolling on the beach sand like two horny starfishes until they both had to come up for air.

Even was watching him and he was feeling good. They both were feeling good and Isak thought this might be the right time to tell his lover.

“Um, baby,” He started, watching Even’s face trying to see all his reaction as he sat up straighter. “As much as I love hearing people call you my ‘lover’,” he emphasized on the last part and saw Even frowning slightly at right now. “I wonder how it would be if they called you my ‘husband.’”

He wished he could just freeze the exact moment when Even’s eyes widened and he looked so surprised it made Isak’s heart well inside his chest. But he was also very, very nervous right now.

Even wasn’t speaking anything, but his face was filled with emotions. He was red and flustered and shocked and bemused and looked surprised overall. As if he wasn’t expecting this.

But then, his upper lip quirked up and there was a hint of a smile. A smile that contained just too many emotions. And that was enough for Isak to go ahead.

He faced Even and pulled the ring out of his pocket. He opened it and held it shakily to Even.

“What if I asked you to marry me right now?”

A beat.

“I would say yes.”

#evak drabble #skam #evak #This is almost 9k fgsdkhfdk #my drabbles

[someiconsx]

the kid (castle rock) - headers (part 2).     ✧ like or reblog if you use/save.     ✧ @dearcardan on twitter.

#castle rock #castle rock icons #castle rock headers #castle rock layouts #bill skarsgard in castle rock #bill skarsgard #bill skarsgard icons #bill skarsgard headers #bill skarsgard layout #the kid #the kid icon #the kid layouts #the kid castle rock #the kid headers #bill skarsgård #bill skarsgård icons #bill skarsgård headers #bill skarsgård layouts #bill skarsgård in castle rock #bill skarsgård as the kid #stephen king #hulu #tv series #sdcc #sdcc2018 #headers #header #icons #icon #layouts

[just-mini-art]

More environments (ft. my header!)

[ID: The images. The first is a digital drawing of a tan, illuminated castle elevated on a steep, mountain jutting out of the water. In the water is someone rowing a thin boat with two passengers, and there are deep blue rocks in the foreground. There is light coming in from above.

The second image is a desert. In the foreground, there is a large, dark sand dune. In the orange-tan mid-ground, there are two, blocky rock formations, textured and shaded. The in sandy colored background, there is another rock structure, the image set upon a light blue to white gradient.

The third image is drawn from the inside of a cave, looking outwards. The inside of the cave is a deep blue. Outside, in much lighter colors is a rocky cliff-face behind a grassy hill. Bright light filters into the cave. In the bottom right of all the images is a green flower that reads “Min 2021.” /end ID]

#just mini art #the familiar visage #nature #environment #evironment study

[behindblueskars]

bill skarsgård - henry deaver / the kid layouts.

because i love this softie, he deserves better.

like or reblog if you use them!

#bill skarsgård #bill skarsgård layouts #bill skarsgård icons #bill skarsgård headers #bill skarsgard #bill skarsgard layouts #bill skarsgard icons #bill skarsgard headers #castle rock #henry deaver #castle rock the kid #the kid icons #bill skarsgård lockscreens #merkel #merkel icons #battlecreek #henry pearl #hemlock grove #roman godfrey #roman godfrey icons #roman godfrey lockscreens #roman godfrey layouts #roman godfrey imagine #pennywise #axel cluney #zeitgeist #zeitgeist imagine

[aanyaforger]

 im... ummm... behind on some tag games so here is a big post!!! ty everyone for tagging me! i won’t be tagging anyone since there is quite a few here

1. tagged by @mazusu ty liza!! made me and best boy luffy!!!

PICREW CHALLENGE : MAKE A PICREW OF YOU WITH YOUR FAVOURITE CHARACTER(S)

2.  tagged by both @naruzumake and @naoamaya ty to the both of you!!

love at first sight or slowly growing fond of someone? // love letters or mixtapes? // hand kisses or kisses on the cheeks? // understanding each other without words or finishing each others sentences? // gazing into each other’s eyes or looking away blushing? // longing to be with someone again or spending every second together? // laughing together or crying together? // someone run their fingers through your hair or gently playing with your hand? // surprise kisses or long tight hugs?

3. @eremikas and @itadorii-yuuji and @stormbreaker ty for the tag!!

mornings or evenings?

coffee or tea?

cookies or cake?

chocolate or sweet?

new year's or halloween?

video games or tv?

instagram or tik tok?

rock or pop music?

youtube or netflix?

doughnuts or waffles?

blue or pink?

dogs or cats?

moths or butterflies?

beach or mountains?

rain or wind?

winter or summer?

movies or books?   

4. @nagisa-cchi ty narumii!!! 💗

5. @itadorii-yuuji​ ty lisette!   i did me and luffy!

6. @makotun​ and @nagisa-cchi​  ty you two!

RULES: tag ten people you’d like to get to know better or catch up with

last song: somebody to love by queen

last film: howl’s moving castle

currently reading: kono oto tomare! (im re-reading/catching up), fushigi neko kyuu-chan, and komi can’t communicate

currently watching: one piece and school rumble

currently craving: eggs LOL i just had eggs 

7. @naruzumake​ ty rai!

8.  @zenien​​  and @jidai​​ ty!!

Favourite colour: red

Last song: somebody to love by queen

Last film: howl’s moving castle

Last series: finished? donten ni warau

Currently reading: kono oto tomare! (im re-reading/catching up), fushigi neko kyuu-chan, and komi can’t communicate

 Currently watching: one piece and school rumble

Currently craving: eggs... 

Tea/coffee: tea

Currently working on: uhhh nothing at the moment...

9.  @jidai​​  and @stormbreaker​ sen and roh ty!

Why did you choose your url? - i was extremely hyped for eula when she was announced

Any side blogs? if you have them, name them and why you have them. - newbark-town (pokemon blog), onepiecesource (admin there!), choujinx (mangacaps with friends lol...), octopath-net (bruh i let it die...), graphics-net (member there), creatorweek (admin there as well!)

How long have you been on tumblr? - i think 2012, but i remade in 2016

Do you have a queue tag? - nope

Why did you start your blog in the first place? - uhh i forgot tbh it was so long ago 

Why did you choose your icon/pfp? - ONE PIECE SUPREMACY!!

Why did you choose your header?

What’s your post with the most notes? - good question. not sure

How many mutuals do you have? - good question. not sure as well but i love all my mutuals!

How many followers do you have? - 1992 oh shit i didn’t notice im almost at 2k 

How many people do you follow? - 365

Have you ever made a shitpost? - probably

How often do you use tumblr each day? - well i have no job nor am i in school so almost every day

Did you ever have a fight/argument with another blog once? who won? - nope

How do you feel about “you need to reblog this” posts? - not sure tbh lol

Do you like tag games? - yeah! but i have this long ass backlog 

Do you like ask games? - yep! they’re always fun!

Do you have a crush on a mutual? - maybe LOL

#about me #LFDKJGKLFG THIS IS SO LONG OH MY GOD

[raendown]

For the @madatobiweek prompts generation swap au and fairytale au. 

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 9590 Rated: T+ Summary: Tobirama doesn't have much in life, just a younger brother to protect and a job that doesn't pay enough to feed them. He knows that hunting in the king's forest is forbidden but for Hashirama he would risk everything. In the forest he finds meat to put on the table for the last living member of his family.

And in the forest he finds a tower, a boy imprisoned, and a future he could have never dreamed of.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

I Never Asked For My Pedestal 

If one asked the local authorities they would say that Tobirama had no good intentions in the forest that day. Hunting in the royal forests was expressly forbidden, an edict passed with no explanation only a year or two after Tobirama was born, but for the families as poor as his there was often little choice but to take that risk. It was the thought of seeing his younger brother going hungry that drove him in to the trees week after week in search of a meal he could not legally afford on his own. 

Once Tobirama had been the third son of four, had reveled in the guiding love of his older siblings, happily joined in the doting when another was born and he wasn’t the youngest anymore. Then sickness had swept through their village and while the lords and ladies locked themselves away safely in the castle Kawarama and Itama, his two beloved elder siblings, took themselves away to die quietly in the forest where they would not infect the others. And from that day Tobirama was left with nothing but his own two hands to work and feed his baby brother Hashirama. 

Like so many other days in the years since they had been alone, Tobirama’s job working for one of the local farmers couldn’t quite pay enough to feed them both. Hashirama, wonderful smiling Hashirama, was an innocent young lad who lived with his head constantly lost in daydreams and greeted his brother at the end of each day with a hug and a hundred questions. Were they situated anywhere else he would have been forced to find work himself no matter Tobirama’s urges to baby him but with the forest behind them and the guards growing lax in their patrols it had become almost routine to find dinner through other means. 

Not, of course, that such conditions had ever convinced him to grow inattentive himself. 

Tobirama was only moments from loosing an arrow to take down a buck which would have kept them well fed for several weeks when he heard the sound of hooves. He cursed himself for a fool as he lowered his arms and cast about for somewhere to take cover. It made sense to hunt in a different place each time he came here. Even a skilled woodsman like himself left some traces of his passing and traversing the same paths over and over could only make it easier for someone to catch him in his lawbreaking. But he should have known better than to come here so far beyond the woods and fields that he’d spent the last decade mapping out in his mind. This area was largely unknown to him. Promises of new and unsuspecting game had drawn him farther from home; now he was paying the price for answering that siren call as he realized that he’d forgotten in his hunger to scout an escape route first. 

Desperate for any way to return safely to his brother at the end of the day, Tobirama leapt for the first place he saw that looked as though it could conceal his over-average height. The boulder was tall, if not very wide, and the small pocket of space behind it could really only be seen if one walked right up to the cliff it sat at the base of. With his heart in his throat he threw himself behind the rock. 

He was immediately forced to bite his tongue to keep from crying out in surprise when he fell through the screen of ivy he’d thought was covering solid stone. 

As soon as he figured out which way was up Tobirama did what he could to resettle the ivy so it hung still, less evidence of his presence. Then he turned to stare down the cavernous emptiness of what looked to be a passageway carved through the mountain. Since there really were only two options, forwards or back out in to the open, he hurried on in to the darkness. It wasn’t entirely dark, actually, some kind of light was clear at the other end, but with the ivy blocking out any light from this end made the passageway feel twice as long as he was forced to feel each step out before setting his weight down. Even using such caution he nearly rolled his ankle several times. 

By the time he reached the other end Tobirama was close to cursing out loud. His eyes had only just finished adjusting to the darkness when he finally stepped out in to the light again, squinting with his chin tucked down to make the readjustment easier. When it felt less like tiny knives digging in to his eyeballs he gave a few experimental blinks then raised his chin.

Only to drop his jaw and let it hang loose as he took in the sight before him. 

What he had taken as a pathway underneath the mountain was in fact the entrance to a hidden oasis in the very center, a field hidden on all sides by the cliff that Tobirama had always believed to be just one solid peak. Crystal blue water sparkled in a small lake, untouched grass grew lush and green, yet all he could see was the massive white stone tower that rose from the very center of the clearing. So tall it would have been visible from the outside with only a few more feet, the structure was made entirely of pale granulite and stood alone with no other buildings nearby. At the base he could see where there had once been an entrance but it had since filled in with stones and boulders. Who, he wondered, would build such a graceful monument to loneliness only to seal it up in such a manner? 

He very much intended to find out. The bricks were pretty but their cut looked rough and uneven, perfect for a man in good fitness to scale his way to the top. He had only just shifted his weight to step forward when movement caught his attention and sent him scrambling back in to the safety of the dark passage. 

Not a moment too soon, it turned out. As he watched, a woman stood from where she had been crouched next to the lake, hair white as his own and a sweeping robe to match blending in with the shine of sunlight on water. Her face was severe enough to make him grateful he hadn’t accidentally caught her attention but instead was able to observe from afar the way she floated across the field and stopped at the base of the white tower. There she tilted her head back to look up at the very top. 

“Madara,” she called, a melodic voice that for some reason turned his stomach. “Let down your hair.” 

Before he could wonder what the hell that even meant Tobirama bore witness to the single most baffling sight he had ever seen. A face came to the window high up in the sealed tower, man or woman he couldn’t tell from this distance, and struggled to lift something over the wooden sill. Then coil upon coil of hair the color of the darkest night came spilling down, down, down until the very end of the impossibly massive braid jerked to the end of its length just an inch or so before it would have brushed the ground. Seemingly unimpressed with this incredible phenomenon, the woman took hold of the braid with both hands and called out above once more. Then she was rising in to the sky as ostensibly whoever had thrown her the pseudo rope was now reeling it all back up as well with her weight added on. 

Tobirama waited but neither the woman nor the other figure appeared at the window again and before long he realized that he didn’t truly want either of them to catch him there where he was so clearly not supposed to be. And besides that he had a brother waiting at home with an empty belly. None of this was any of his business. With one last long glance at this new mystery Tobirama told himself to forget what he had seen and turned to head back in to the forest, hoping against hope that whoever had sent him scurrying in to the unknown had moved on as well. 

He did what he could to put the oasis and its wonders out of his mind in the days that followed. Seeing the light in his brother’s eyes when he came home with the deer he’d finally managed to take down was enough to keep him content for a day or so but the morning beyond that he found his thoughts wandering. Who was that at the top of the tower? How did they come to be in such a place? With the bottom sealed up it was obvious that the figure with such fantastically long hair would have no way down. Tobirama couldn’t help but wonder if they had chosen to shut themselves away from the world or if that sickeningly beautiful face were perhaps more sinister even than he’d first imagined. 

There was only one way to find out. 

For nearly a week he managed to resist before the pull of the unknown drew him in just the same as the thick tomes he studied in the public library whenever he had a chance. Strictly speaking it would be at least a few more weeks until he needed to hunt again; after salting and curing most of the prime cuts they could rely on venison whenever there wasn’t money for other foods. But the mountains in the distance called to him, whispering the secrets that only he knew of, and Tobirama could only resist for so long before he found himself asking Hashirama to be safe while he was gone and heading in to the trees once more. 

It felt strange to traverse these fields and forests with no bow upon his back, although he supposed that it was nice not to worry for once about leaving tracks. There was nothing illegal about walking in the King’s woods. Without the need for his usual caution he was able to make the journey in about half the time it might have taken him on any other day, the sun barely at its zenith by the time he crested a small hill and began to look around for the sheet of vine concealing the entrance he’d fallen through before. 

Were he any less alert his future might have gone very differently from that moment – or perhaps been deleted entirely. Only his sharp reflexes sent him whirling behind the closest tree when he spotted a flash of white from the corner of one eye. He was out of sight not a moment too soon as the woman he had seen calling up to the tower emerged from the hidden passageway and set off through the forest with a rather annoyed looking expression. In one hand she carried an empty basket that Tobirama would have bet his last penny she intended to fill by either foraging through the woods or making the journey in to the village. Whatever the case, she would likely be gone for several hours. 

Oh how the fates had smiled upon him. Now was the perfect time to sate his curiosity. Feeling almost gleeful for his good luck, Tobirama forced himself to remain still for several minutes past when the woman was out of sight just to be sure and then dashed towards the ivy. In his enthusiasm he very nearly forgot to step carefully along the dark uneven ground but there was at least no one around to watch him wobble and stumble as he hurried along until finally he was stepping back in to the bright midday sun. Somehow the massive white tower was only more impressive at a second glance yet he wasted very little time in admiration, moving forwards until he had reached the base where stones and mortar sealed what would have been the easiest way in. After a quick circuit around the whole thing he concluded that his first guess had been correct. He would have to climb.

Luckily he had come prepared for just such an activity. He stomped both feet to settle them in his sturdiest shoes and shook his hands out to loosen the muscles, wary of a cramp at just the wrong time. Then he paused the moment he laid his hands on the rough hewn bricks. Head tilting back, eyes squinting above, Tobirama considered the call he had heard before. 

There was no one here, he reasoned with himself again. If he looked a fool then there was no one to carry the tale of it. With that in mind he cleared his throat and firmly reminded his voice that now was not the time for nervous cracks. 

“Madara,” he called loudly in a false soprano, “let down your hair!” 

Even as he winced at how terrible his impression had been there came a movement at the window above. Then suddenly coil upon coil of midnight hair came tumbling down towards him only to snap taut just before the ground. For a moment he could only stare. It was hard to believe that had actually worked. Then he paused a moment longer to wonder if his weight might hurt the scalp on the other end of this incredible length. Only when the pseudo rope gave an impatient ripple did he suck in a deep breath, reach out with both hands, and begin to scale the tower at a much quicker pace than he’d been expecting to. 

With his feet walking up the side to keep him straight and arms strong from years of hard labor Tobirama was scrambling over a wooden windowsill almost in no time, taking in the petulant figure several feet away, hair anchored and knotted around a hook so as not to pull on his head and arms crossed over his chest while he pouted towards the floor. 

“You sound like you swallowed a frog,” the man growled. “What’s the matter, hit yourself with one of your own curses, witch?” 

Tobirama could only stare, unsure of what to say. In a word the man was gorgeous. Skin china pale without the sun’s rays, broad shoulders thick with muscles from dragging around the weight of so much hair, and a face with almost delicate features that still somehow screamed of masculinity. He was a masterpiece. When his pout deepened the expression only served to make him look more adorable in the sort of way that made Tobirama’s heart flutter traitorously in his chest.

“Cat got your tongue? Or maybe it finally shriveled up and fell out from all the acid lies you spit.” 

Such antagonism could only mean that his residence here was not a happy one, though it still remained to be seen whether or not he was being held against his will. Clearly he wasn’t the biggest fan of the woman he was expecting to come up to him. 

“Real mature, giving me the silent treatment. Didn’t you just leave? Thought I’d have the whole afternoon without your evil stench. I hope you didn’t come all the way back up just because you forgot something, I could have thrown it down. At your head.” With a snort and a faintly vicious smirk as he presumably imagined throwing something at the woman’s head, at last the strange man looked up – then gasped and attempted to reel backwards with fright in his eyes. “Who–!?” Before he could even finish his startled exclamation the anchored hair jerked him to a stop and he froze in place, trembling from head to toe. 

“I apologize, I did not mean to frighten you,” Tobirama murmured. His voice, if possible, seemed to startle the man even further. 

“You’re not the witch! You’re…like me. A boy!”

Considering he was well in to his second decade Tobirama gave some thought to correcting that. He was a man, not so much of a boy anymore. Now was hardly the time for semantics, though, so he let that go in favor of inching a single step forward just to test the waters. When the other man trembled again he angled his body to make it as clear as possible that he was heading towards the hook built in to the floor. 

“My name is Tobirama,” he said as non-threateningly as he could. “What’s yours?” He already knew that, of course, obvious from the words that gained him entry to this tower. It was just polite to ask really. 

“None of your business!” 

“I see.” He hadn’t really expected politeness in return. 

The closer he got the more worried the man looked until with carefully projected movements he bent down and freed the massive braid from the hook trapping its owner in place. As soon as he was free the man scrambled backwards, though Tobirama noted that the worry was colored now with a sort of curiosity he knew all too well.

“What do you want from me?” 

“Nothing,” Tobirama admitted truthfully. “I stumbled upon this place a few days ago and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. There was a woman – is that the one you call a witch? – she called for you to let down your hair and I wanted to know what sort of person could have such impossible locks. They’re impressive. What’s your name? You know mine, it’s only polite to share.” 

For a moment the man hesitated. Then he asked very quietly, “Is it? I wouldn’t know. Will you do anything bad with my name?” 

“Anything bad?” Tobirama repeated, baffled. 

“Well I don’t know! I’ve never met anyone else before!” 

“Never!?” 

Sticking out his bottom lip in another pout only brought this fascinating stranger back to be cute. “I’ve spent my whole life here in the tower. Well, I suppose I wasn’t born here. That old hag certainly isn’t my mother but she did explain to me once how babies are made so I suppose I must have been somewhere else once.” He considered his very first visitor with deep gravity. “My name is Madara.” 

It was a good name, strong, the sort of name that wouldn’t be common in the lower classes. For whatever reason it sounded almost familiar but Tobirama couldn’t quite put his finger on why and he was hardly going to waste his time digging through memories just now. Trying to remember the manners classes he’d taken as a youth from a friendly neighbor, a poor imitation of the gentrification proper noblemen were raised with just in case he somehow encountered one of the royal family, he tucked in one arm and spread the other wide in a clumsy bow. 

“Your acquaintance is my pleasure to make,” he said. The words felt too large and fancy in his mouth and halfway through the sentence he realized he’d said it all wrong. Madara didn’t seem to mind. 

“What now?” 

“How do you mean?”

“You said you wanted to know who was up here and now you do. So what will you do next?” The straightening of his spine spelled confidence but the way he reached out to take a solid grip on his heavy braid just in case was more obvious than he probably thought. Someone who spent all their time away from other people probably hadn’t had many lessons in being sneaky. 

For the first time Tobirama allowed his eyes to slide away from the figure he’d gone to so much effort to meet, gazing around the room to take in all he could. Basic furniture and sparse entertainment options made the place look even more like a prison than the sealed exit at the bottom. He noted there seemed to be no exit from here either. However one was meant to travel down the tower when it was built, the way appeared to have been cleverly hidden from view now. For Madara there truly was no way out. He could have climbed his own hair, of course, but doing so would have left him stranded at the bottom with no one to unhook him from the anchor. 

All of this combined with the way he spoke of ‘the witch’ left Tobirama with only one choice, a stupid choice, a choice that would surely put him in to danger. 

“I could take you away from here,” he said. Phrasing it like a suggestion felt safer for the psyche of a man who had never left his prison but in his heart he knew that he couldn’t leave Madara to his fate, not now that he knew of the situation. Stolen away as a child so young he remembered nothing but the tower that caged him? It might not be Tobirama’s responsibility but he would never sleep again if he walked away now. 

Clearly Madara was not well versed in the art of kindness judging by the startled look on his face. Not a big surprise there. 

“A-away?” he asked.

“You’re clearly not here of your own free will. I intend to come back and, if you wish, free you from this place.” 

“Free…” Brows furrowed, Madara worried at the loops of his makeshift weapon. “Isn’t it…isn’t it terribly dangerous outside of the tower? When I was young I used to plan how I would run away from here but I never did – and lucky for that! The world is so dangerous! All of my books have stories to tell about bandits and people with bad magic; there’s just too many people who would try to steal me away!” 

Tobirama cocked his head to the side. “I assume you believe they would steal you for the same reason the witch keeps you here, whatever that may be?”

He almost regretted his words immediately as Madara's eyes narrowed in suspicion. It only became obvious that the man had slowly begun to relax when he tensed up again at the idea of giving away what must be some sort of secret. Knowing he needed to tread carefully if he wanted to build any sort of trust, Tobirama very carefully did not react to that expression and did his best to give the impression he wasn’t interested himself in this secret. 

“I believe I can keep you safe from anyone who might want to hurt you,” he declared instead. He might not have been the most refined peasant but his skill with a blade could rival that of the royal guards themselves. Or so he’d been told him once by an uncle who served in the palace until an injury left him unable to carry the buckets for cleaning or fetch the arrows for lords too lazy to walk across a field and fetch their own. Unless they encountered a magician of some sort he truly was confident he could protect this man. And since the only magician he’d ever seen round these parts was the wizened old woman who performed tricks for the court the odds felt pretty low on that happening.

“What’s it like?” Madara asked. “The world?” 

“Very big. Full of different things. Scary at times but if you use your head you can usually think your way out of things.” That was how he’d gotten through life, anyway. 

“That sounds terrifying and wonderful all at once.”

Clearly he was considering it but it was just as clear from the wary hesitation in his eyes that Madara had no intentions of following through on the offer. After spending his entire life locked in the same tiny space Tobirama couldn’t really blame him for that, either. He would have been frustrated if he hadn’t already expected that answer, planning ahead in his mind for when he could make the trip out here again. 

“I can ask as many times as it takes for you to be brave,” he promised. 

 A promise rashly made but it was one that he kept. Though he could not stay for long that day Tobirama was in the woods and calling for Madara to let down his hair only a few days after. Hashirama, the understanding brother that he was, simply waved from the doorway and told him to enjoy whichever adventure had captured his attention so. 

Their visits were all quite the same at first. Before he left the first time Tobirama instructed Madara to hang something in the window whenever the witch was gone so he would know it was safe to call up. Each time he scaled the tower and crawled over the sill Tobirama then happily spent however many hours he could spare answering all of Madara's questions about the outside world, asking his own questions in turn about life here alone. He was pleasantly surprised to know that his new friend had been provided books on mathematics and spent quite a lot of his time rereading the few novels he was allowed to have. Stifled as it was by isolation, it was obvious Madara possessed a mind just waiting to flourish. 

Watching confidence grow in his friend week by week was a special sort of joy that Tobirama would almost liken to how it had felt to raise Hashirama on his own – except he’d never been struck by the beauty of Hashirama's face in a beam of sunlight or listened rapturously to the rolling timber of his brother’s voice.

Falling in love was, perhaps, not of his smartest ideas. Of all the people he might have taken an interest in Madara was the most dangerous. Not because he thought the younger man could hurt him but because at the moment he was the only person who had ever been kind to Madara and it would only be too easy for such affections to be misplaced. The last thing he wanted would be to take advantage of someone who had put so much trust in him. 

With caution in mind Tobirama came back to Madara knowing that he himself was growing only more and more attached with each visit yet also knowing that he could not in good conscience abandon anyone stuck in this situation no matter how it all ended. There was no doubt in his mind that eventually it would be his own heart that came away with a wound but to know that Madara would find a better life than the one he had so far led, well, he couldn’t say that didn’t make this all worth it. Even if he had despised Madara to the bone he would still have come back to help. No one deserved to be kept locked away and never feel the kiss of freedom. 

Even destitute as they were, Tobirama appreciated the freedoms he and his brother enjoyed now more than ever. 

It took until the first time that Madara very nearly worked up the courage to follow him out of the tower for the man to trust him with the secret of his servitude. For all the many times they had spoken for hours upon end it had been difficult for Tobirama to bottle his curiosity, to allow such a sensitive subject to come to light on its own, and his patience was rewarded at last on the day Madara hung his feet out the window and stared at the ground so far below them. 

“How would you get down?” he asked as though it had only just occurred to him. Their plan had been for Tobirama to remain behind and free the long hair from its anchor once the other had reached the bottom. 

“Don’t worry about me,” Tobirama soothed him. “When I first came upon the tower I had planned to climb up with just my hands. I’m sure I could just as easily climb down.” 

“All that way!?” 

“It isn’t so far. When I’m out on a hunt I’ve scaled cliffs twice that height with half as many good handholds.” 

Trusting Madara with the knowledge that most of his food came from illegal poaching in the royal forest had been an easy choice. Not because he doubted the man would ever truly work up the nerve to escape but because he believed in the seeds of loyalty that grew and flourished with every day their friendship strengthened. 

“You know…I used to dream about the world when I was younger, about making some daring escape on my own. I would have done it back then for sure. Too innocent, too ignorant of all the darkness that’s out there. But even if I had known about bandits and knights and all the ways I could hurt myself without anyone there to help, the one thing that held me back was…myself.” Madara reached up to play with the shorter hairs growing around his face. “She stole me for the power that I was born with and I hate her but she’s never tried to hurt me as long as I stay. What if I ran and got caught again by someone who didn’t treat me as well?” 

“Keeping you locked in a tower doesn’t really strike me as treating you well,” Tobirama murmured under his breath. When Madara flashed him a grin he knew he’d been heard. 

“Of course that’s the part that you would comment on. You’re a good person. From what I know of people, anyway.” 

As careful as he had ever been, Tobirama took a step forward to bring them closer. “In what way?”

“Don’t play coy, we both know you’re curious as hell about why that witch keeps me here. I mentioned flat out that I have some kind of power and you still don’t ask. You’re always so careful about making me feel safe.” Madara's lips twisted in a wry expression as though acknowledging his own vulnerabilities.

“Your secrets cannot be my own unless you choose to entrust me with them.” There was really no point in denying that he was curious but even as he realized that he hadn’t been quite as subtle as he imagined Tobirama hoped to impress that he had no intentions of forcing anything the other didn’t want to tell him. He had learned a long time ago that trust was something earned, not asked for. 

His efforts were clearly appreciated. Swinging back from the window, Madara set his feet on the floor and smiled warmly. The expression suited him probably more than he’d ever been told. 

“I trust you with my life,” he declared. 

“Poor taste,” Tobirama couldn’t help but tease. He smiled to himself when Madara roared with laughter. 

“Maybe. But they’re my secrets and I’ll give them to whoever I please, so there!” 

Just hearing those words sent the heart in Tobirama’s chest galloping double time and he couldn’t stop himself from leaning forward on to the balls of his feet as the mystery he had turned over in his mind a thousand times unfurled itself before him. 

“You might have noticed that my hair is just a little long,” Madara began with a touch of sarcasm. “She won’t let me cut it. I don’t know how or why, she’s never bothered to explain, but my hair has some kind of magical properties – healing properties – and the longer it is the more potent the magic becomes. If I cut it short I would be able to heal small cuts and scrapes. With it long as it is now the power is so strong that my healing reverses the signs of aging.”

“Sweet flame…”

“It’s why she keeps me trapped here. She might look young but that witch is ancient, old enough to be my great grandmother. But with the power I have in me she can stay young and beautiful. Or at least she thinks she’s beautiful.” He snorted in obvious disagreement. 

Completely unsure of how to respond, all Tobirama could think to say was, “She’s not my type.” 

Madara blinked. Blinked again. Then his head tilted back and once again he roared with unfettered laughter. It was far from attractive, brash and quite similar to the bray of a donkey, and Tobirama admitted with the solemn taste of defeat on his tongue that he had never been more in love. It was a laugh that had never been taught shame or self-consciousness, beautiful in its innocence. 

“Good to know that you have no plans to use me as bait,” Madara declared when he was able to draw breath again.

“Setting aside the vomit I can feel rising in my throat at the very thought, I would never use someone in such a deceitful manner.” Reaching up to tug at a lock of his own hair, Tobirama eyed the dark braid so long it could loop several times around the entire room. “So. Magic hair. I really should have been expecting that and yet somehow I was not.”

“I guess it’s nice to be the one with new and interesting information for once.” 

The two of them shared a look and from that moment on something very subtle changed between them. 

Meat had never been so plentiful in their home as the days now with Tobirama making the journey through the forest every chance he had between working for the farmer who paid him so little. It didn’t occur to him how deeply he’d buried his head in the clouds until Hashirama greeted him home one night and asked with a grin if he would ever get to meet the one who had captured his aniki’s heart. Tobirama had made a point of holding off on another visit the next day just to spend some time with his sibling. Sweet Hashirama was such a good little brother. It was hard to believe he had ever done anything to deserve a love like the one they shared. 

Over the months that followed Madara very nearly followed him away from the tower on three different occasions. Though he never quite made it past his own balcony Tobirama could see the way his gaze lingered on the snow drifts with curiosity and wonder, how he traced the shapes of spring with naked longing in dark eyes. 

“What’s really holding you back?” he asked one day when he had stayed perhaps a little later than he usually would have.

“Her,” Madara whispered. “I want to leave and never come back but…what if she follows? What if she finds me?” He paused and looked away with something like pain etched in to his features. “What if she hurts you? After everything you’ve done for me I can’t imagine repaying your kindness by leading her straight to you.”

“I can protect myself,” Tobirama reminded his friend, daring to step close enough for their arms to brush together. Small touches were all he ever allowed himself. 

The minutes passed but he held his silence, allowing the other to follow whatever paths his thoughts had led him down. When their eyes met again he was surprised to see that all gravity had faded and instead a mischievous grin was looking back at him. 

“Can you protect yourself from this?” Madara demanded, both hands raised as though to give a solid shove. 

He was frozen halfway through the motion by a voice calling out from below. 

“Madara, let down your hair!” Both of them looked at each other in panic even as Madara slid off the windowsill and moved towards the anchor on muscle memory alone. 

“She’s supposed to be gone for hours!” he hissed. “What do we do?”

“Don’t keep her waiting. Keep her attention away from the window once she’s up here so that I can slip out. I’ve told you before I can climb down on my own, don’t worry.” Tobirama make shooing motions with both hands to hurry the other along. Only when Madara finally leaned down to begin looping the end of his hair around the metal ring did Tobirama turn and madly search for a place to hide. 

There wasn’t much, even less that was close enough to the window that he could sneak out undetected. For once in his life he cursed his own tall stature as he discarded a standing mirror that would have been perfect were it not two heads shorter than him and too thin to crouch behind. To the other side of the window there lay a sizable storage chest he might have fit in but the noise he would have made climbing out vetoed that option even before he checked whether there was enough room inside. A frantic noise from behind sent Tobirama scrambling in to the only viable hiding spot he was able to see. 

Usually it was children who hid themselves behind the drapery and thought themselves concealed. He could only pray that the witch didn’t think to look down at her own feet lest she spy his. 

Forcing himself to keep still as he listened to the sounds of the witch he’d heard so much about clambering in to the dungeon she had created was probably the hardest thing Tobirama had ever done. Her weight made less noise than the voluminous robes he had once seen her in, silk and satin whispering as they dragged across the wooden frame. Her shadow fell over him and for a single heartbeat he felt the very blood in his veins go cold thinking that she’d seen him. Then it moved away and Madara's voice captured her attention, his only opening.

“You said you’d be gone longer,” his friend snarled. 

“It isn’t for you to wonder at my comings and goings.” Her voice was melodic in the way Tobirama had always imagined an evil witch’s might be, honeyed and soft to draw you in until the frost hidden in her words bit and snapped, striking just at the moment one was foolish enough to trust her. 

“Hmph, I’ll wonder at whatever I please.” 

Praying that his friend wouldn’t go overboard in his attempts to keep drawing attention, Tobirama peeked around the curtain and barely held in a sigh of relief to see that the coast was clear. He wasted no time slipping over to the window and sliding on to it, movements as fast as he dared to make them without allowing his clothing to give him away with their rustling. Madara's eyes flicked over to meet his own in farewell but it was only a moment. As he turned himself around to descend feet first he could hear the other man give vent to a loud grumble. 

“And how many new babies did you kidnap while you were away today? None? Ah, I suppose you stopped and gobbled them up for your lunch then. Is that why you’re back so soon? Too full from your snac-!”

His voice cut off with the ringing sound of a slap and Tobirama went still just out of sight, eyes wide, glaring at the stone between him and the woman he so desperately wished did not exist. 

“Do not forget that I hold your life in my hands,” the woman’s voice hissed, all softness forgotten. “It is only by my mercy that you aren’t chained to the walls with only bread and butter to soothe the aching emptiness in your belly – or would you rather a taste of such a life to remind you of your place?” 

“No,” Madara surrendered. Even without being able to see him anymore Tobirama could hear the defeat in his tone. Fingers clenching against the bricks until they scraped and bled, he clung to the side of the tower and wished death upon the evil within it. Never had he hated another person so much. He wasn’t even sure she truly qualified as a person, barely human in his eyes after all the things he’d heard of her, and that opinion was only solidified as he bent all of his willpower in to convincing himself not to climb back inside and give her a taste of his bloodied fists. 

Only the knowledge that doing so would make things worse for the one he wished to protect held him back. 

“Say my name,” the witch purred. “Go on, answer me properly this time. Would you like a taste of what you truly deserve, my little magic boy?” 

“No, Kaguya-sama.”

“Ah, I do so love the sweet music of obedience when you say my name. Go. Begone to your room. You may count yourself lucky if I see fit to bring you your dinner after such offensive behavior.”

Though he waited Tobirama heard nothing more after the sound of Madara freeing his hair and dragging it all with him to one of the walled off areas that Tobirama had never asked to see. Bedrooms were private places and for someone afforded so little privacy he’d never seen fit to invade Madara's. 

Climbing down was as arduous yet uneventful as he imagined it would be. By the time he reached the bottom his arms were nearly ready to fall off and his fingers had all gone entirely numb. After shaking out his limbs and resting until the sensation came back Tobirama considered whether he should wait a little longer until darkness fell, dark skies offering what little protection they could against wandering eyes that might look out the window at just the wrong time. In the end he decided that it would be just as easy to spot him then as it would now and someone who just returned home was less likely to be gazing out at the world than someone settled in for the evening. His heart hammered in his throat as he took off across the hidden grove like a rabbit fleeing from a wolf’s jaws. 

Hashirama greeted him with a smile when he came home, stumbling through the front door with no memory of his journey back through the woods. Worry replaced his usual cheer as soon as he took in the expression on his brother’s face.

“I’ve just made tea!” he said. “Come, sit! What on earth is wrong?” 

Like a little mother hen the younger man fluttered around their modest kitchen, cups rattling together when he pulled out too many for just the pair of them, lips pursed anxiously until he finally made it back to the table with the promised tea. With all his running around it had probably gone half cold but Tobirama found he didn’t mind. It was nice to be cared for, even in the moments like now when he felt a little guilty about it. He should have been the one taking care of Hashirama as the older sibling. 

“You look like you’ve been summoned before the royal court!” 

“Worse than that.” Tobirama gratefully accepted the tea that slid across the table towards him. “I just came face to face with the urge to take the life of another human being. And I know that I would have felt no guilt for it.” 

“Oh my…” Hashirama swallowed but – bless his soul – there was no judgement on his face. 

Unable to look away from the dark liquid steaming before him, Tobirama drew in a breath and let it back out slowly. “I should have been honest with you a long time ago. Will you listen to my story?” 

“Always. You’re allowed your secrets Anija!” His brother’s voice was so full of love and understanding that it made him ache. “If you trust me with them I would love to hear what you have to say.” When he finally looked up Hashirama was beaming as though to share things between them was a great gift rather than simply the way it should have been from the very start. 

So Tobirama told him the truth about where he had been disappearing to over the past year. He told Hashirama about the young man he had met locked away in a tower, though he did not reveal why. That was not his secret to tell. He described the witch who kept his friend locked away and admitted that he hadn’t the faintest idea of what her true powers really were. When he had said all the words that he could force along his tongue he fell silent and waited to hear the verdict, the opinion, of one who thought so differently than himself. 

He was startled by the hand that reached across to take his own. 

“You love him,” was the first thing his brother said. 

“I don’t know how you do that,” Tobirama murmured. “How you just look at someone and see how they feel even when they don’t say it.” 

“Well of course you never have to say anything, Anija, I always know what’s in your heart!” 

Hashirama squeezed his fingers a little tighter and Tobirama the sensation deep inside his chest. 

“This world does not deserve you, Otouto. I…you’re right. There might be some feelings on my part. But you understand why I can’t say anything to him?” He was both glad and disheartened to see the other nod. 

“Do you have a plan?” Hashirama asked. 

“Yes.” Tobirama chewed his bottom lip with thought. “I knew the moment I heard his story that I wanted to help him escape but of course he’ll need somewhere to go. I want to bring him here. My hunting can keep us all fed and if I’m not traipsing through the forest so often I’ll have time to see about picking up extra work somewhere else. You would like him. And if there’s anyone that would be a good friend for someone in his situation it would be you.” 

“I can’t wait to meet him!” 

Chest spasming with the clenching of his heart, Tobirama bowed his head. “You’re okay with this?” 

“Of course! Goodness, I can’t believe you haven’t spirited him away already and hidden him under your bed!” While Hashirama's mouth turned up with a little giggle Tobirama felt his cheeks grow warm. Just imagining such a scenario had him forcibly moving his thoughts elsewhere. He didn’t want to think about how much he would enjoy Madara in any sort of context concerning his bedroom. Not with his little brother right there.

Knowing that he had Hashirama's blessing was a weight off his chest that he hadn’t acknowledged was even there until it was gone. The two of them had always been close enough that keeping any sort of secret felt wrong no matter what the younger said. Freeing himself of that guilt made each step lighter as he disappeared in to the woods the next time he was able to slip away, mumbling promises to himself under his breath that the next time he entered these trees it would be in search of food and nothing more. 

With his head so lost in thoughts of the future and all the many ways it could play out his trip to the hidden oasis flew by almost without notice. His feet tread along the familiar path on muscle memory alone while he tried to imagine what expression Madara would wear the first time his feet touched grass, how quickly his body would tire when travelling long distances for the first time, what expression he might wear to see the hustle and bustle of a real village after a lifetime of quiet solitude. It was hardly the first time he had fantasized about such things but they had never had such an immediate taste of anticipation before. 

It was only when he had made his way through the passage and looked up to see a familiar blue strip of silk hanging in the window that he realized how lucky he’d been with his timing, how carelessly he had crashed through the forest in his rush to get here. All it would take would be one unexpected meeting with the witch and everything would be ruined. Neither he nor Madara knew where she went during the times she left him alone in the tower but neither truly cared to know. She was gone. That was all that mattered. 

“Madara,” he called up, excitement tight in his voice. “Let down your hair!” 

He only needed to wait half a minute before coil after impossible coil came flowing down to brush the earth, a scant few inches longer than it had been the day he first made this climb. After the amount of times it had been since then Tobirama’s arms were stronger than ever and he pulled himself up the side of the tower with a speed that would have impressed himself but a few months before. 

Full of hope and happiness after speaking with his brother, it felt like nothing less than a cold knife in the heart when Tobirama crawled over the windowsill to be confronted with the sight of a purpling bruise on Madara's cheek. His friend stood tall and proud in the face of his stare, undoubtedly aware of why, refusing to be ashamed of his own situation. It wasn’t the first time Tobirama had seen a mark like that on the other man but it was the first time he’d understood that it wasn’t a result of clumsiness or any sort of accident. Just the sight of it had his blood boiling with rage all over again.

“I know what you’re going to say–” Madara began. Tobirama cut him off. 

“Come with me.”

His words gave the other pause. “Okay, so I didn’t know you were going to say that. I should have, you’ve said it before, but I thought…”

“You don’t need me to tell you that how she treats you is wrong, you’re not stupid.”

“Damn right!”

“Please,” stepping forward, Tobirama dared to be so bold as to take his friend’s hand. “Come with me. My brother has already agreed that you can stay with us. I can show you anything you want to see and teach you anything you want to learn. Come with me. Let me take you away from here.”

To his great surprise Madara did not pull away, only turned his head to look out the window with a familiar distant gaze. He wanted to, that much was obvious, wanted to know what it was to be entirely in control of his own destiny. 

“I would stay with you?” he murmured. 

“For as long as you want to.”

“You don’t think you’d get tired of me pointing out when you’re being a boor?” Madara's grin was sharp and yet so very fragile, steel encasing glass so ready to shatter. 

“I could never tire of you in any way,” Tobirama admitted. It was perhaps a bit too honest but if it got him the results he’d been trying to achieve for an entire year then it was worth the pain of laying his heart bare. Madara's freedom was worth everything he had to give and more. 

Much to his pleasure he was not met with disgust or dismay or even the sort of hesitance that comes before rejection. Instead he was blessed with the sight of a warm pink spreading over Madara's pale cheeks, chin ducking in to his wide collar almost shyly and then immediately jerking upright in defiance of his own emotions. Watching him navigate the roller coaster of his heart would always be a pleasure and an amusement both. 

Breathing deeply with determination in his eyes Madara took a single step forward, bringing them closer than they ever had been before, close enough to feel the heat of each other’s bodies, sharing air as their gazes locked. 

“Ask me one more time,” he demanded. 

“Come with me.”

“Okay.” 

Unlike all the other times they had spoken these exact same words there was something different in him now, a straightness in his spine, a steadiness in his voice. Tobirama felt almost as though his heart were fluttering in his throat. Difficult as it was he managed somehow not to float straight off the ground as a pink tongue flicked out to wet Madara's lips and then his friend was leaning forward, closer than close, brushing their mouths together with all the innocence of one who knew nothing of the world but the feelings he carried in his heart. 

“You’re sure?” Tobirama whispered. 

“Of you? Yes.”

While he was still trying to breathe past the thunder in his ears he found himself rather pleasantly distracted by the touch of lips against his own once more and this time he had enough wits about him to respond in kind, drinking in the sweet sounds that followed like fine wine. He had only kissed one boy before. Puberty had left him restless, curious, all too aware of the way some of the eyes of others near his age had followed him around. His explorations then had been chaste and unsatisfying enough that he turned his attention away from any sort of intimate pursuits – that is, until the day he realized exactly how attached he had become to the boy in the tower. 

He was still flying high with his head in the clouds when they parted, Madara's hand tightening where they were still linked between them. Nothing in his life so far had ever quite compared to the joy he felt when he saw his friend, his most precious hidden treasure, move to anchor his hair in its usual place. When he secured it through the ring bolted to the floor he did so at the opposite end from his own head to allow himself a rope with which to climb down. 

“You’ll follow after?” he asked, already moving to the window. 

“Always,” Tobirama promised. “Wherever you go, so long as you’ll have me, I will follow.” 

“Here’s hoping you enjoy the view from behind then.” Filled with the wild energy of escape, Madara sent him a wink before clambering up and over the sill. He waited just long enough to look back and make sure that Tobirama had taken the ends of his hair to lower him down with. 

Then he took a tight grip with both hands, closed his eyes, and with a smile unlike anything Tobirama had ever seen before he put his trust in to another’s hands along with his weight. Watching his head disappear from sight was sweet. Hearing his voice give a triumphant crow only moments later was even sweeter. The strain on his muscles was next to nothing as Tobirama fed the massive braid of magic hair downward bit by bit; strangely he found the most difficult part was convincing himself not to cry. An odd feeling. He’d never been the type to get overwhelmed by his emotions like that. 

It took several minutes longer than his own descent would have for Madara to reach the bottom. Tobirama made sure the journey downward remained slow and steady to make him as comfortable and unafraid as possible. Only when he felt the line go slack did he allow his stance to waver and his arms to relax and the second he was sure the other had reached the ground he was dashing over to the window to look down. 

Madara's neck craned back to look up at him, on hand cupped around his mouth while the other waved madly through the air.

“Tobirama,” he called, “let down my hair!” Then he looked down at his own feet and even from so far above his voice could be heard crying out with excitement. “It tickles! The grass tickles! This is amazing!” 

No matter how quickly he was able to tear his eyes away Tobirama was doomed. There was no denying the tears gathering in the corners of his eyes any longer, though he consoled himself that they were at least tears of joy. Tears for the happiest he had ever been in his entire life. In this moment he could not imagine anything else that he could possibly wish for. 

He should have known the universe would prove him wrong. After freeing the hair from its anchor for what he hoped would be the very last time it was only one quick-as-possible climb down familiar stones before he too was standing in the lush grass and admiring the wonder on Madara's beautiful face, laughing at the way dark hair dragged along the earth unattended. Though he knew that they should hurry away from this place he couldn’t quite bring himself to break the moment until finally the other’s eyes returned to him and pale hands reached for his own. 

This, this was the moment in which he could ask for nothing more, he realized. With Madara's fingers between his own he had everything he could ever need. 

“I did it.” Words whispered thick with disbelief, sharp with joy, lighter than the air they breathed. 

“Welcome to the world,” Tobirama whispered back. 

“Take me away from here,” Madara demanded. “Take…take me home. I’ve never had a home before.” 

“You can have one with me.” 

Where the witch had gone they did not know. How she would react to finding her captive missing they had no idea. Tobirama knew only one thing for sure as he slipped off his shoes to offer the other and led them towards the passageway in to the rest of the world. 

He would protect this man no matter what. Whatever the future held he would fight to protect this precious treasure that he had found, that he had freed, that he had fallen in love with and never looked back. 

#rae writes #madatobiweek2020 #madatobi #madara #tobirama #hashirama #fanfiction #fairy tale au

[dc-earth53]

.#0011 - Enchantress (June Moone)

Age: 41

Occupation: Artist, magician.

Marital status: Single.

Known relatives: None.

Group affiliation: Shadowpact, Sentinels of Magic, Suicide Squad.

Base of operations: Belle Reve Penitentiary, Oblivion Bar.

Height: 5′6″

Weight: 126 lbs.

History:

19 years ago: Artist June Moone is invited to a costume party at an old castle, and stumbles upon a magical being known as Dzamor, which grants her the ability to transform into a super-powered alter ego named “The Enchantress.”

16 years ago: 

After operating part-time as a superhero for a few years, the Enchantress attempts to eliminate all evil on Earth by stealing all magic, coming into conflict with Supergirl.

Having had a taste of power, Moone’s Enchantress personality begins committing more and more heinous acts of villainy to gain more, causing Moone to keep her repressed.

12 years ago: Moone fights Zatanna and the Justice League, and is defeated by them, ending up in prison at Belle Reve.

10 years ago: 

The Enchantress joins Amanda Waller’s Task Force X, better known as the Suicide Squad, performing missions for Waller in exchange for a commuted sentence.

During a trip to the Nightshade Dimension, Moone learns the truth about her powers: Dzamor is the father of beings known as the Incubus and the Succubus, rulers of the dimension, and her Enchantress persona is actually the Succubus given human form. The Incubus tears the Succubus from Moone, leaving her powerless, and she leaves the Squad, committing herself to a mental institution.

7 years ago: The demon Etrigan and the renegade angel Asphodel release the hordes of Hell upon the Earth. In the process, the Succubus is reunited with Moone, and she breaks free from the asylum, joining the fight but ultimately being killed by Sebastian Faust. The Enchantress’s magical powers unite with Moone’s body and personality, leaving a new, more whole Moone.

5 years ago: During the Spectre’s quest to destroy all magic, Moone joins the ragtag band of heroes known as the Shadowpact, a name used by groups “doomed to lost causes,” and manages to help stop the Spectre’s rampage.

4 years ago: The Shadowpact remain a team, fighting the group known as the Pentacle inside of a magic bubble in River Rock, Wyoming. When they emerge from the bubble, a whole year has passed.

3 years ago: 

The Shadowpact, alongside the Phantom Stranger and the Shadowpacts of the past and future, team up to stop the orchestrations of Doctor Gotham and his patron, the Sun King.

Shadowpact travels to Hell to take part in the battle for control of the realm between Neron, Blaze, and Satanus. 

1 year ago: Moone and the Enchantress are forcibly separated, requiring the intervention of John Constantine and Deadman to stop the Enchantress from destroying all life on Earth and to reunite the pair.

Present day: Moone responds to a summons by Amanda Waller for aid, re-enlisting in her Suicide Squad by choice while continuing to work with the Shadowpact.

Commentary:

Enchantress is one of those characters who has gotten a really bad rap as of late due to a terrible portrayal in outside media - namely the dumpster fire that was 2016′s Suicide Squad feature film. However, June Moone is an example of a character who probably would have been much more successful if DC had introduced her thirty years later than they did, as the original idea for Enchantress was essentially a magical girl. Instead, she languished in obscurity until she, like so many others, was picked up by John Ostrander for his Suicide Squad title.

There’s nothing much to report about differences between this version of Moone and the canon one, however - she’s one of those characters who only pops up once in a blue moone (heh) if she’s not in a team book, and the team books she’s been in have never been the heavy hitters. With just a few minor alterations to her timeline, she’s good to go - I even managed to integrate New 52 Justice League Dark and Suicide Squad in there somehow.

Looking at costumes, her current outfit (the one in the header image) is one of circumstance - I had originally planned to use her Shadowpact outfit, the one with the bustier and cape, but then I found this piece by Stjepan Sejic, and when I get a chance to show off Sejic art, like hell I’m going to turn it down.

Next: Oracle, and then... oh, gods of Thanagar, Hawkman.

Got questions? Asks are always open!

#dc #dc comics #earth 53 #profile #june moone #the enchantress #suicide squad #shadowpact

[bi-disaster-wei-wuxian]

rules: answer 30 questions and tag 20 blogs you are contractually obligated to get to know better

tagged by: @bimingjue as if u don’t know the answers to most of these questions already but here we go

name: liz

gender: if u want to put a label on it then nonbinary but i don’t care abt gender so ehhhh. she/her is fine tho

star sign: gemini

height: 168cm (5′6)

time: 7:23pm

birthday june 11th

favourite band: DAY6!!!!!!

favourite solo artist: soyoon from the band sesoneon

last movie: LMAO IT’S CAMP ROCK WITH MIRF

last show: granting you a dreamlike life also with mirf

when did i create this blog: postlimit.com says it can’t find my oldest post??? so idk like march/april 2020??

what i post: mostly the untamed but also some guardian and tgcf. just general cdrama shit

other blogs: @youngks-smile and @binnie-changbinnie

do i get asks: nah, the only mutuals i have on this sideblog are already my friends outside of tumblr, and tbh i havent really put a lot of myself and my personality on this sideblog so no one interacts. im just here to look at my own reblogs of beautiful men

why did i choose this url: my header says it all. wwx and i are both beautiful disaster bisexuals so

following: 55

followers: 45

instruments: my mains are flute, piccolo, and piano. i also play harp, guitar, and ukulele 

dream job: my fantasy unattainable dream job is playing in pit orchestras on broadway. my more attainable dream job is a professor in language sciences

dream trip: i’ve been saying it for years but i want to go on a taiwan-hk-korea-japan trip with my childhood best friend, bc between us we speak chinese, korean, and cantonese

favourite food: any pastries or cookies. or maybe im just craving that rn

favourite song: anything day6. if i had to pick 1 then when you love someone. or barae

last book i read: deep learning with python lmao. last book outside of uni would be uhhhh whichever haruki murakami book i read last. i think kafka on the shore

top 3 fictional universes i’d like to live in: HOWLS MOVING CASTLE!!!!!!!, atla, does liziqi’s youtube channel count as a fictional universe? if so then that

i have no one to tag who hasn’t already been tagged so anyone who actually read all this can do this! just say i tagged u :^)

#me #about me #tagged