#Element Wine

[forgetme-eternally-blissfully]

Part 1 , Part 2

Kim Rok Soo wakes up several hours later. Surprisingly, he hasn't been moved from his position, still held up against the teenagers chest, face in his neck. Only now there's a monster fur wrapped around Kim Rok Soo's back and tied behind the boy. A... baby carrier.

Choi Han presses a hand on the baby monsters head when he notices it wake up. With his right hand he tightens his grip on his knife and casually swings it diagonally through the air, a black aura cutting through the space in front of him and arriving at the creature that attacked them, reminiscent of a cross between a mountain lion and a goat, with oozing green fur and bulging eyes.

The monster is cut. The monster falls.

Kim Rok Soo squirms in the carrier. It makes him recall a memory of a father that would tie his baby to his back when he went out to fight. His wife had died, so he had no choice but to manage alone, because he couldn't trust anyone with his child. They both disappeared one day, and Kim Rok Soo never heard of any bodies being recovered.

Whatever, he thinks. It isn't embarrassing to be in a baby carrier if he's a baby. He hasn't been thrown away or left behind, so it's fine, right? Unfortunately, he notices, it is glaringly obvious that they haven't left the forest yet. Nor does it seem like the teenager has a base.

He didn't want to admit it, but seeing that monster, and a black haired Korean teenager that managed to kill it so easily... it made Kim Rok Soo remember the book he read last night.

The Birth of a Hero.

It seemed unreal to jump to the conclusion that this teenager is Choi Han, and that they're in the Forest of Darkness in a fantasy novel, but the hand stroking up and down his back reassured him that this was reality. And that Kim Rok Soo... was a monster.

...

No, what was he? A monster didn't make sense. Could he really have been dropped into this world as a newborn baby monster? That might as well be the world telling him to die! If he hadn't been next to his egg shell then wouldn't Choi Han have killed him instantly?!

Kim Rok Soo doesn't know how long Choi Han has been in the Forest of Darkness, but the calm exuding from him even when he kills monsters bigger than himself makes it clear that's it's nearing the time that he'll find Harris Village.

His stomach rumbles with a loud noise. He's ravenous, but the idea of hunting a monster ruins his appetite. Choi Han will feed him, surely.

He hasn't eaten since he hatched. Kim Rok Soo was forced to record books about child rearing before so he knows that babies need to eat often. Does a teenager- no, a teenager that is over a hundred years old now- know how to take care of a baby?

Choi Han pats him on the head.

"Hey." The patting was a little harder than maybe it should've been. "... Can you eat meat?"

Kim Rok Soo hums but it sounds like a warble. Monsters don't speak. Babies don't speak either. This kid is really asking a combination baby monster a question about his diet.

Even if it wasn't super obvious, Choi Han was obviously desperate for companionship. The tone in his voice made it clear that he hadn't spoken in a while, to someone or to himself. Yet, in this terrible forest where everything sought to kill him, Choi Han willingly picked up a liability and is trying to care for it.

Kim Rok Soo warbles again, quieter. This is why this kid ends up being the main character. Kind people will always find a way to be kind.

Choi Han unwraps the carrier and Kim Rok Soo readily jumps to the ground. He misses Choi Han's flinch because he's facing the felled mountain-lion-goat monster.

Experimenting, Kim Rok Soo sticks his elongated mouth into the flesh wound made by Choi Han, but only gets a mouthful of flowing blood. It floods his nostrils and he takes his face back out, shaking his head and frowning at the bad tasting blood.

The wound won't work, so he tries to bite through the fur somewhere else, but it doesn't even tear. He's a baby monster but he can't even do that much?

He's going to try something else when a black flash has him flinching and tumbling backwards. He lands with his back to Choi Han's leg.

Choi Han reaches towards him.

Kim Rok Soo closes his eyes. Did Choi Han decide he was useless and that he's better dead? He hadn't even had the chance to try fantasy food yet! He wanted to fall asleep on a human bed once they got out!

Something wet touches his mouth.

Without thinking, he takes it into his maw, finding it squarish and squishy. It tastes like the blood his mouth is coated in.

Kim Rok Soo blinks and looks up. Choi Han is looking down at him with expectant eyes. Though his face is devoid of emotion, he manages to still seem like a friendly- if a little apathetic- high school student.

The meat is chewy and softer than he expected, or maybe his jaws are stronger than he thought, so he ignores the fact that it tastes like blood and stares into Choi Han's eyes.

For being stuck in this forest for a hundred years, he has a nice gaze.

Gulp. The meat glides down the back of his throat incredibly easily. If he hadn't been a human before this, maybe he would've swallowed it immediately without chewing.

Choi Han waits for him to finish swallowing.

Kim Rok Soo warbles, unable to ask why the century old teenager is staring. Is something the matter? He's still hungry.

When Choi Han doesn't move Kim Rok Soo points at the monster with a paw.

More.

He wants more.

Choi Han gapes, astonished, but Kim Rok Soo gets off his leg and sits patiently to his side, waiting. If he is going to take care of a baby, he should do it all the way. Of course, once Kim Rok Soo gathers his strength, he'll guide Choi Han to Harris Village and let them heal his heart. He has to leave to get some powers that he is interested in to make him moderately strong.

Choi Han cuts out another square of meat and offers it to Kim Rok Soo, only to receive a blank stare. Don't just offer it to me, feed it to me. Babies shouldn't eat by themselves, they're too weak.

The wine-red baby opens his mouth. Choi Han's mouth breaks into a small smile. He places the square of meat onto the baby monsters tongue and watches in fascination as it swallows without chewing this time.

They repeat this until Kim Rok Soo burps, lazily blinking. Being a baby is better than he thought it'd be, even if the food isn't great. He can swallow it quickly though, so he reasons that being a monster right now isn't so bad because he doesn't have to suffer through eating tough, bloody meat.

He taps his tail on the ground, like ringing up customer service.

Isn't he taking advantage of the twisted protagonist too much? Kim Rok Soo should hurry and deliver him to Harris Village as repayment.

Choi Han is quick to bring the baby monster up to his chest, wrapping the monster fur around it again. When he strokes the bumpy head, it feels warmer than when he first held it. Despite being here for so long, he doesn't know how a baby monster grows or is raised. Do they normally get warmer the more they eat?

He should feed it frequently, so that it doesn't get cold.

[nostalgia-tblr]

drabbles

the shortest fics I have written are 100 words, because drabbles, and some people are very opposed to those because they think "oh, anyone can write 100 words. i have written 100 words, it takes minutes!" but no! a drabble is not about writing "only 100 words" it is about writing "exactly 100 words" which is much more difficult (and a fun challenge). you wrote 100 words and kept going, didn't you? the story contained 100 words but it did not consist of 100 words. therein lies the difference.

firstly you need to pick an idea that will fit in 100 words, then you need to spend ages making it actually do so. oh no, you are 2 words over and now you need to lose 2 of your already carefully chosen words! oh no, you are 2 under and must add 2 more words without spoiling the flow of 98 words that work together perfectly! then you upload to AO3 and discover that it's counting differently to what you wrote the drabble in, and now you need to cut out another word. BUT HOW??? these are not just 100 words, they are all there for a reason, they all complete the whole, how are you going to MURDER one of these words without the entire fic looking damaged afterwards? :(

so a drabble contains two challenges (and this is why i am strict about the defintion) - one where the story has to be 100 words and then one where you need to get it to exactly 100 words. i might as well say "anyone can write 120k words, i write words all the time!" yeah but i realise that just writing down 120k words off the top of my head would not result in those being good words that function together as a good story.

[foxyou-too]

Shumi Love Design - 5 ELEMENTE

[bijoumikhawal]

Another cherub drawing

[astralpenguin]

i make fun of my mother for owning a ridiculous number of cookbooks despite being physically incapable of following a recipe without putting her own spin on it but uh as it turns out we are related after all and i do exactly the same thing lol

[sugarpsalms]

OK I NEED to know - for the WIP tagging game please tell me more about 'Really, Rosi? In church?' 🫣🫣🫣

- BTW this is allmightskitten, tumblr won't let me send asks with this blog😭

Hiiiii so, this one is the second chap of The Devil Brought Tequila (most of the chaps of which are flash fics all centered on the theme of 'drinks'). It's actually a reworking of a scrapped idea for a standalone part of this series, which I believe you might've read a fragment of!

In the original idea, this was supposed to be Rosi surprising Doffy by showing up unannounced to a Christmas service, but I've reskinned it as an Epiphany service. It's still a surprise visit, but at this point in the timeline, Rosi and Doffy are a little more comfortable with each other than they would've been in my first draft, so I'm having fun adjusting their body language and dialogue to reflect that.

Anyway! There's a (brief) intro for a future recurring side character: the priest (Father Amaral) who Rosi later finds out is the rest of town's liaison to Doffy. And there's some experimental scaling up of physical affection on Rosi's end, who's trying to establish a baseline for what Doffy trusts him to do, with the added flavor of them being very much in public; and Doffy not being in a position to make much of a scene, lest it become uh... too obvious that Rosi isn't someone he can tell what to do. And also because they're mid-service and Doffy does NOT want to get scolded by Amaral afterwards for interrupting in front of his little brother.

The challenge with this one is balancing the fact that it's supposed to be flash fic with all the emotional tension and building intimacy notes I want to hit. But it'll be a fun experiment and prep me for the next two flash chaps in the series.

[nocentis]

Honeysuckle

⚶ ┆ Between his teeth and beneath his nails, an airy fruit light as love is bitten down to the rind. Even with his mouth full of pulp he finds himself desperate for her taste.

A sigh echoed and swallowed, kept locked in his chest like a secret. He held his breath until it burned; savored every hitch and every hum of her sacred song. Each curse spoken like a prayer, like praise; wept like gratitude wrenched raw from the soul — raked clean and spit out like the pit of a cherry. When he's forced to breathe, she is the hallowed riptide, and he would be blessed to drown in her lush.

Ripe as a peach at the crown of her cheeks; soft red flush so sticky sweet. Another of her colors comes to life in his mind. One shade closer to the divine.

⚶ ┆ Woven together like lace under the pale light of a waning moon. He can't be sure where he ends and she begins. She pierces straight through him like he belongs to her, and in some capacity, he knows that he does. There is no room left in his heart for desire of this nature. It has reached its bounds and collapsed inward on itself — a singularity the size of her that takes of these moments and stretches them infinitely, ever deeper, ever denser; inescapable.

Too much would never be enough and yet he counts every falling grain of timesand, tallies them up, and says his Hail Mary's in correspondence. Blessed is he for these hands to hold her, for these eyes to view her, for this mouth to speak her name. Blessed is he for the breath and the bread, the water, the whine.

Under his breath, to no god in particular, he issues his thanks.

"You're still awake." Her voice is strained by the small hours. The calm is sweeping her away and yet she remains afloat, waiting for the rise and fall of his chest to slow before she sinks into sleep. "Your train leaves early. You should rest."

His own voice is gravelly, thick with syrup, when he attempts to quell, "There will be another train. There is always another train."

There is nothing more important than this — her head on his chest and his fingers in her hair, scarlet as the sun's kiss and softer than silk.

She shifts so that she can look at him, and the nightglow catches the honey of her eye. "You should rest," she reiterates, and though she aims to chastise, he can feel her care bleeding through her touch.

"I will," he promises, though he chooses not to specify when. "I'm not ready for tomorrow."

He feels her hum before he hears it. Gentle as a lullaby, it dims his vision, and he finds a brief reprieve inside his eyelids.

"You're ready," she assures, succinct as ever.

"You're right," he concedes through a sigh, "I don't want this to end."

"Then don't end it," she slides her hand into his, weaves their fingers together in an airtight knit, "Water it. Let it grow. Keep it alive while we're apart."

He responds first through a light squeeze, a bit of humor trapped in his chest, and he can't deny that, "There are some things even I can't kill."

[checkuu]

Zhongli

[the-witchs-cafe]

[stormwaterwitch]

The Obsidian Emperor

[nothingunrealistic]

QUERIDO EVAN HANSEN

TALLER DE 3° ITM, PRACTICAS DE INTERPRETACIÓN EN EL TEATRO MUSICAL 21/22

this is a delight… obviously the production values aren’t the highest but many fun acting and staging choices here, especially the four evans, and i’m impressed that they managed to incorporate the anonymous ones and hiding in your hands without cutting songs

[cleanwhiteroom-archived]

🚨 FoD Ch53 is up! 🚨

Latest Releases:

Text: FoD53

Locked Audio: FoD35

Work Feed: Go and see!

Forecast:

Text: 95% chance of FoD54; 5% chance ceremonially reserved for the whims of fate.

Audio: 50% chance of FoD49; 50% chance of wild card.

[bitseventimes]

can't be bothered to make actual dimmer so I'm having a handful of nuts accompanied by a glass of what's left of my cherry nalewka, a dash of cheap wine and sparkling water. I'm calling it the gatherer meal

[floorpancakes]

if you think about it in a non shop scenario adult watanuki would be the ceo of wearing a long sleeved minidress with pants. or without pants. without pants also works

[haybug1]

Toasting Earth Friendly Wines

More goes into the production of wine than growing grapes. The fermentation requires yeast, the aging occurs in barrels, tanks, or concrete eggs, and the packaging traditionally over the past two hundred-plus years has been in glass bottles with a cork oak closure. Unfortunately, the production of glass is one of the most harmful for our environment with dangerous CO2 emissions going into our…