☙ butterfly boy ❧

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[dariowilks-blog]

portia-barnes:

date: may 23rd

location: palace garden

status: open

The once contagious smile that stretched across Portia’s face had now become silenced. The sparkling of her warm eyes had diminished into emptiness as she sat with her legs folded into the grass of the palace’s garden.  Her fingers were slightly shaking as they pulled at the yellow weeds. She was there when the king spoke, barely even thinking her name would be called, barely even expecting herself to be considered a ‘new blood’. 

“It’s true,” Portia whispered as she plucked a yellow pedal. 

“It’s not true.” Her voice barely even felt like her own. It was shaky from a sense of confusion, from having attention drawn to her, when she didn’t even want to the attention. The attention didn’t belong to her, but to others. Was it the breaking of light bulbs? Was that all she was good for? Maybe it was a coincidence?  She still couldn’t smile. It was as if Tomas was gone all over again and had temporarily removed her ability of smiling. Her head bowed again wit her eyes closed and fingers still pulling at the petal again. It’s true. It’s not true. It’s true. 

She paused. Her fingers searching for a petal and cracking open her eyes and staring at the sole petal remaining. Her shoulders tensed as she pulled it away and discarded the remaining stem. 

“It’s not true.” Denial was always easier than the truth that she barely knew. A few times the light bulbs had gone enough, but she didn’t think that they might have been because of her. She didn’t want herself to believe that. She was a red blood, she was certain of it. Connecting the dots was harder than she wanted, so she took a breath, glanced up at the sky, and swallowed. “It’s not true.” 

In the garden, surrounded by such beauty, it was easy to forget the impending danger and the hectic nature of the past few days. After every tragedy in his life, Dario picked himself up and reminded himself of what was still beautiful and right in the world. His friends were still safe, even if just for now, and the flowers still bloomed. Maybe he didn’t understand; maybe he couldn’t understand if he didn’t have the power of New Bloods coursing through his veins. 

Another wave of relief swallowed him whole the second he saw Portia’s face. When he heard her name called, he hadn’t wondered why she was on the list. He wasn’t interested in what she could do, or how powerful she was, but was instead merely concerned with her well-being. She’d been a constant in his life since they were young, even when they went months without talking. She was unshakably bright and beautiful and deserving of so many good things. His heart sunk to his stomach because he knew, of all the things she deserved, this was not one of them. 

Seeing the sadness in her eyes, Dario couldn’t help but want to mend her. He plucked a nearby flower, a beautiful one but nothing rare--nothing the garden would miss. Dario approached her slowly, catching her chin with all the softness of a butterfly. He stuck the purple flower in her hair, smiling at the sight. “Beautiful,” he remarked,”like you belong in this garden.”

[dariowilks-blog]

herbclist:

        Normally Ana was not one to judge one too harshly on their mistakes without hearing the decision-making process. But revealing the names of the New Bloods was too big of a mistake for even her to look past it. The king put the New Bloods and everyone they care about in danger with a single speech, an unforgivable offense in the eyes of Ana. She worried about Atticus, but not nearly as much as she worried about Dario and Melody. For Atticus could handle himself if anyone gave him trouble because of her, he handled himself long before they met, but the other two, one in danger by association with her and the other in danger because of the power that pumped through a red heart, seemed too fragile to handle any sort of threat.

        Seeing Dario, a weight was lifted off her heart. She rushed forward and held his hands as tightly as she could when he grabbed her’s. In the very least, Dario was safe. Without a thought, she pulled him into a hug. Ending the hug, she kept their hands interlocked. More than her heart continued to beat to keep herself alive, it beat to make sure those she cared about still had beating hearts. Family and friends met more to her than her own well-being did. In order to get them safe, she’d risk staying in a crowd full of people that could want to hurt her.

        A chuckle escaped her lips at his question. “ I’m not extremely hunger but I could eat. ” Standing only a foot or two away from him, she pulled him in for another hug. “ I’m glad you are alright. ” She breathed. Despite her instinct to keep looking for the rest of her friends and family, she said, “ Going home sounds nice. ” At least there she would know Dario was safe and sound.

Dario relished in the hug, in feeling Ana’s heartbeat against his rib cage. It was reassuring just to feel her there, to know she was safe. He was usually able to be blindly optimistic--but not when it came to Ana’s safety. He could lose everything--he’d already lost so much--but he couldn’t lose her. He tried reminding himself of how capable she is, how spectacular her powers are, and how many people are willing to protect her. He shouldn’t worry so much about someone so strong, yet he was afraid. Dario rarely felt fear, but now he was terrified.

“Have you seen Atticus?” He asked, remembering their priorities. He so badly wanted to take Ana home and go on with their day, to forget about this all-together and live in a bubble. But he knew his best friend too well for that; he knew she’d need to find her family first. He pulled away from the hug, taking Ana’s hands in his once more. Those who didn’t know him as well as Ana might assume he was calm. After all, there was still a whisper of a smile on his face and his breathing was steady. His hands, however, fidgeted nervously. He played with Ana’s fingers, and couldn’t keep his feet still. He really just wanted to leave.

[permanentlytragic]

They weren’t so much best friends as they were extensions of each other. The thing was, they could function without the other. They just didn’t want to.

a.g. (via yoshirpt)

[dariowilks-blog]

DATE: april 23rd LOCATION: the outskirts of the courtyard STATUS: closed to @herbclist

Dario was completely unsure what to think in light of the king’s speech. He’d known all about New Bloods from his best friend, of course, but the speech still left a lot of questions spinning around his head. It wasn’t himself he was worried about--it was Ana, and Melody, and maybe even Silas. Were those people even safe now? All the people he cared about, whose names graced the list of new bloods--what would their lives be like now? Dario couldn’t answer any of these questions; he cursed his awful foresight. The most he could do was trust that things would happen exactly as they were meant to , and that in the end everything would be okay.

The most important concern, at least now, was finding Ana. Dario needed to see her, to hold her, to be sure that she was just as soft and beautiful as ever. He felt like this after most big events. If anything even held the potential to be life-changing, he had to share the moment with Ana. She was the first person he wanted to tell his thoughts to, and the first opinion he wanted to hear--always. He looked for her on the outskirts of the crowd that was now dissipating. His eyes searched every face that passed by, and when he finally saw hers he made haste. 

His heart felt lighter the moment he was close to her. Instinctively he grabbed her hands, gently wrapping her fingers in his. “Are you hungry?” He asked, avoiding the issue for now. History might have just been made, equality might have just taken a large step forward, but it meant nothing if Ana wasn’t well. “Should we go home?”

[dariowilks-blog]

melodywalsh:

date — april 23 location — courtyard status — open

Her name is called, and she forgets that it’s hers. Her name is called, and she waits for the title to come with it: kitchen apprentice. Her name is called, and she wants to pluck it from the King’s lips with her shaking fingers, hide it in the safety of her palm from Silvers and Reds and strangers. Melody Walsh — new blood. But she hardly feels new; she only feels afraid.

Melody looks meekly down at her shoes, hands clasped tightly as her ears grow hot. Her chest trembles with the force of emotions not her own: fear and awe and revulsion, prove yourself, show yourself, be less than what you are. Are they looking at her? Are they waiting for her to become a symbol of a new age? To shout in support of the King, to smile happily at her undoing?

She’s only ever wanted an apron around her waist, the smell of a cake baking all around her, and a hand tightly clasped in hers. But she is alone, and her hands are empty, and the kitchen is faraway. There is no sanctuary left to her; not even her own heart, so bombarded with the opinions of others after the King’s announcement.

Overwhelmed, unable to take it any longer, Melody turns to scurry away. But the crowd is thick and instead, she stumbles straight into the person behind her. “Apologies,” she murmurs, “If I could just get through, please…"

Dario is lost in the frantic crowd. It’s rare that his energy is overshadowed by anyone else’s, but now he is confused and silent and fading into the background. It’s rare that he attends announcements like this, but today something was urging his heart to go--and he tried his best to listen. He’s heard of New Bloods before, but hearing the words slip from the King’s mouth still manages to startle him. 

When he hears Melody’s name, a name he’s hardly heard since school, his eyes immediately search for the familiar face. The universe, making things much simpler, brings her straight to him. The moment he looks into her eyes he feels her energy, nervous and lost and desperate for escape. His heart hammers against his chest, but instead of allowing himself to be overwhelmed he smiles. 

“Please, don’t apologize,” he wastes no time before wrapping an arm around her shoulders. At his vantage point, he can see over the shoulders of most people in the crowd. He leads her around a group of people, weaving through the crowd and holding her close as if they’d been good friends for years. The reality was that they’d been acquaintances in school--they’d never run in the same circles, but Dario always saw something in her that mirrored his own heart. 

“It’s great to see you again,” Dario speaks over the commotion of the crowd, smiling down at her as though they aren’t making a frantic escape--as though it’s just the two of them. “Are you okay?”

[dariowilks-blog]

diemhynson:

Between Melody and Dario, Diem found it weird working without an audience. She felt uncomfortable with the silence that transpired between her and the watcher while she attempted to focus on sewing, but soon she grew to like the tradition. While Isla’s gaze used to feel like that of her mos’s, mixed with worry and a stern nature, Dario and Melody’s gaze was filled with amazement and an interest that Diem never thought she would gather. She always thought she would be a lone wolf, but the more she found herself stuck in this life the more she realized she needed people too.

When she heard someone enter her shop before it was officially opened, Diem just assumed it was some red that didn’t read the sign or a silver that though they were better than store hours. Diem was almost relieved to see it was only Dario. She didn’t really want to yell at someone to come back when they were open.

“No, you can stay. I assumed you were a potential client.” She shrugged as she wandered into the main shop and looked at the red boy. 

It was refreshing to see Diem: still breathing, still with the whisper of a smile on her lips. It’d been so long since he’d seen her that he didn’t know how she was handling the tragedy, the loss. The news of Isla’s death had floored Dario at first, but he’d experienced so much loss before that he knew not to dote on it. Life moved on, and he’d see her again--he was sure of it. Of course she’d deserved so much more than she was given, but if he focused on the sadness of all the people falling around him Dario wouldn’t be favoring anyone’s legacy. 

It wasn’t purposeful that he’d waited so long to check in on Isla. Rather, he’d been so busy he had lost track of how quickly the days were moving past. He hoped she had lost herself in work, too, just as she always seemed to. “It’s been a while --I’m sorry for not visiting sooner,” Dario continued to smile politely, not bothering with an excuse. “You’ve been on my mind, so I thought I should pay a visit before work. Are you working on anything special?”

[dariowilks-blog]

praetextum:

She’d noticed, of course she had, when he slipped away. Her hawk’s eyes always had him in sight, out of the corner of her eye. Dario felt—she wasn’t sure how to explain why she cared about him so much, what made her feel protective over him and not others. Perhaps it was because he was a genuinely kind soul, a soft boy with a soft heart she felt the need to protect. Or maybe it was because she saw through his charm, sometimes, and knew he was not always this perfect angel child that was so loved by all.

That he hadn’t come to her for the water perturbed her, she’d have made sure it was ice cold. The bar was emptying, two patrons on approved stools half asleep in their mostly drained drinks. She decided she could afford a break too, her aching feet grateful for the decision. Right outside the door he stood, still thinking of others when he needed to think of himself. She propped herself against the wall beside him without a word, leaning back and enjoying the cool breeze and fresh air, the silence most of all.

Dario was such a pure soul and she both admired and envied it, feared for it as she had once been the same. She felt a kinship she tried not to show, making her presence nonchalant instead of completely purposeful. when he spoke of the stars it broke her heart, she had once gazed at them like Gods in the sky and they’d fallen from the heavens at her sinful feet.

“If you like that sort of thing.” She replied, refusing to bring her eyes skyward. The stars twinkled innocently but Gods, did they burn. His smile was radiant but a tad weary and she brought the water higher into his view to encourage him to drink more. “Proper hydration is important.” She kept her voice monotone. “Yeah, and what would you wish for?”

Ryn’s presence put Dario on edge at first. He knew they’d notice that he felt worn down, and the last thing he wanted was to worry anyone. He really should be inside, livening the place up, talking to whoever was left. But Ryn hadn’t come outside to scold him, and he didn’t mind their company. They were exactly the kind of complex that Dario looked for in people: the kind that had a rough exterior but something golden and beautiful underneath. They didn’t show that gold often, but Dario knew it was there--he could sense it. He knew they cared.

Dario immediately took a sip of water to appease them. His eyes were locked on Ryn now, instead of the stars. Their eyes held all of the things they didn’t voice: the softness, the compassion. It was almost more compelling than the stars. Their question stirred something inside Dario. Wishes were something he thought of often, and he was almost flattered that Ryn would care to ask what he really wanted. There were so many wishes--desires--bottled up inside of him that he didn’t know which he would act on first. 

For a softer bed and silk sheets to lie in, he thought of saying. But then he thought, what a selfish wish. I want peace, I want everyone I love to be happy. I would wish to see you smile more. I would wish for the capacity to fix people with love. He smiled then, thinking of how Ryn would react to all of that. He wasn’t scared to say it, wasn’t scared to be called naive or unrealistic. He knew his wistfulness was important--and he wasn’t scared to share that with them. But he was tired, and they were tired, and Dario didn’t want to overwhelm the dwindling night with all of his thoughts. So instead he simply said, “An easy week. For me, for you, for everyone. I’d wish for an easy week.”

[dariowilks-blog]

atticus-valdez:

Dario’s signing was, rough, but Atticus was able to follow along with it easily. He knew more than most people, but the only true masters were him and Ana. It was nice though, to see him trying. He shook his head at his question and put a finger to his lips. “No. I snuck out. I think.” His grin turned self deprecating, but he didn’t linger on it. “Besides. She’d probably kill me if I woke her up this early.” He chuckled dryly and gently leaned against the wall next to Dario, making sure to angle towards him.

Another dry laugh escaped as he read Dario’s lips. He shook his head and closed his eyes as he replied. “Are you offering Dario? Because, sadly, I think I’m going to have to decline.” He scoffed and looked back up at Dario. “Nah. I’m probably not setting foot in that bar for at least another week. Minimum.” He shook his head. “That bartender you’ve got in there. She’s…How should I put it? Oh. A bitch.”

It was difficult for Dario to remember a time pre-Atticus. He’d known Ana for nearly a decade before she met her husband, but Atticus felt so much like he belonged in their dynamic that he felt like he’d always been there. Dario felt comfortable with him from the moment he met him, and he’d feel that way as long as Atticus treated his best friend like a queen. As long as Ana loved him, Dario would love him too. “I mean, your wife enjoys her sessions,” Dario joked, “you guys should come in as a couple sometime.”

An easy laugh fell from Dario’s lips as he looked from Atticus back to the sky. He got so lost in the stars that it took him a moment to realize who Atticus was talking about. The second he realized the man was setting up a moment of gossip, Dario ripped his eyes from the sky and looked back at him with immediate interest. “Ryn?” He asked, signing her name at the same time. He looked behind him, as if Ryn would be standing there. When he noticed the coast was clear, he said, “She’s doing her best. She has to deal with a lot of assholes, you know? I love that she stands up for herself. So if that means she’s a bitch, then--I mean, you still have to tell me what happened.”

[dariowilks-blog]

atticus-valdez:

Atticus knew he shouldn’t be out this late. Ana was probably sick with worry but he couldn’t stay in the house anymore. It was…suffocating him. That happened sometimes, especially after one of the worse nightmares. He never remembered them after he woke up. Just the panic. The fear. Emotions he swore the day he’d left for war he’d never feel. He was a man of war after all. And he was always loathe to admit when he was scared or panicked. But tonight was not one of those nights. He’d gotten dressed in the dark, fervently praying that Ana hadn’t heard him bumping around as he did so, and left the house to wander the streets. He always felt better after a nightmare with the sting of cold air in his lungs. It helped to calm him , center him again.

So he wandered and before he quite knew where his feet were taking him he’d ended up on the street with the El Corazon. Part of him wanted to turn can walk away, unwilling to submit himself to the tongue lashing of the bar tender, lest she see him, and the other part of him refused to run like a coward. Torn, he debated what to do in the middle of the street. Just as he was justifying walking away a familiar face walked out and Atticus found himself walking towards Dario.

He’d missed most of what Dario had said, too tired and too far away to bother concentrating that hard. He smiled, tired and quickly signed a reply, “I am a star? I am flattered.”

The familiar face was refreshing for Dario, especially as his energy was draining. He almost expected Ana to be trailing behind Atticus, even though it was such a ridiculous time. It was rare that he saw the man without his wife, but it was a pleasant surprise regardless. What was he doing here? Why was he out so late? Dario tried not to question it too much, and reminded himself to be grateful for the company. 

Closely watching Atticus’s hands, Dario was able to decipher the signing after a brief moment. Ana had taught him the basics of the language, but it wasn’t yet something that came effortlessly. “Sure, that is what I spoke,” Dario signed hesitantly in response. The quiet was something he was thankful for. The sound of the bar created a muffled ambiance, and the sound of grasshoppers filled the rest of the silence. It was an atmosphere that helped him breathe more easily, recharged him more quickly. 

“Does Ana know you are here?” Dario asked finally. He couldn’t help but bring her up--Ana was the easiest thing for him to talk about. Unsure of how to sign what he wanted to say next, Dario joked aloud. His voice was enough to break the quiet ambiance, and hopefully enough for Atticus to hear. “Not here for the company, are you?”

[dariowilks-blog]

DATE: april 17th LOCATION: outside of el corazón STATUS: open

Dario loved the social atmosphere of his job, but everything got tiring after so long. Too many twelve hour days had left him exhausted, if not a bit lackluster--not that he’d allow anyone to notice. He’d still smile just as bright, distract people with compliments, and hope they didn’t realize his charm was slipping. It was rare, really, that he felt this way. Usually, charisma came effortlessly--but now he just wanted to sleep.

With an hour left to work--he got off at four in the morning--Dario found an escape. The place was settling down quite a bit, and only a few people sat at the bar. He took the rare lull as an opportunity for some air. It wasn’t that anyone would mind if he took a break, really; people had been telling him he needed to take some time off. It was his own fault that he was overworked and so incredibly drained. Sometimes Dario didn’t understand the meaning of too much. Sometimes he didn’t know that it was okay not to please everyone at once.

Dario settled just outside the door of the bar--just in case anyone were to need him. He had a glass of water in hand instead of alcohol and leaned against a wall to give his legs a short break. The stars were still magnificent at this time of night, which was reassuring to Dario. They shined every night for many hours, too, and they still looked just as beautiful. What a world he lived in, where the sky could look be so stunning all the time. 

“What a view, huh?” Dario said to someone hovering nearby. He’d forgotten that he was supposed to be giving himself a break from socializing. He smiled at the person next to him, just as grateful to be looking at them as he was to be looking at the stars. “If we watch closely enough, maybe we’ll see a shooting star.”

[dariowilks-blog]

diemhynson:

DATE: April 19th

LOCATION: Isla’s shop 

STATUS: Open

The days after the ball seemed to blur together. There was so much stuff that happened at the ball that it made Diem overwhelmed to think about it all. Rosa was back in her life. Azariah was back in town. So many other revelations came to life that caused Diem to stick to her shop for a day or two in order to get her thoughts together. Working in the shop for so long. Diem got used to a routine that was getting more and more interrupted the longer she went without Isla to keep her focused on tasks. 

The shop didn’t even feel like it was the same shop. Yes, it still looked the same and cared for the same customers, but there was something missing. Isla’s presence gave the shop a little something extra that was no longer there. She gave it a vibe. People walked into her shop and knew they would be well taken care of. Now, it just lacked that sureness in the air that kept Diem at bay and confident in her designs.

Diem was reorganizing some of the fabrics she had stocked when she heard the bell ring up front that let her know someone entered the shop. Sighing a bit, Diem peeked her head out of the door frame to look at whoever wandered in. “Sorry, shops not open yet.” 

Dario rarely had free time to spare, but when he did he often found himself in Isla and Diem’s shop. After hearing the news of Isla’s passing, however, he was almost subconsciously avoiding having to face the grief. Of course he’d been busy, but he hadn’t even found time to pay his respects to Diem. It’d been long enough now that Dario’s guilt was overpowering his aversion to sadness. Diem had allowed him to watch her work time and time again, and was always such nice company--it was only right to make sure that she was doing okay. 

It was early, but Dario only had a few hours in the morning before work--so he had to use the time wisely. He walked into the shop as confidently as ever, his gaze straying to the garments around him as he did so. Diem’s face was a sight for sore eyes, and Dario smiled regardless of her words.

“I’m sorry--I could come back later?” The last thing he wanted was to intrude. “I just wanted to catch up, but I understand if you’re busy.”

[6go]

[thecasualistcollective]

[wordsnquotes]

He’s so busy looking inside people to find the good that he misses the knife they’re holding in their hand.

Alexandra Bracken, The Darkest Minds (via wordsnquotes)

[glow--doe]

I’m like 60% silk, 30% rose water, and 10% glitter

[ercantnkc]

[wnq-writers]

Having a soft heart in this world is both ignorant yet incredibly courageous. Ignorant because you allow people to pass through your walls after they’ve hurt you so many times, yet courageous to know that even if they hurt you again, things always get better.

therootofsufferingis-attachment (via wnq-writers)