#and hope winter here ends soon I WANT AGAIN A BIT OF SPRING

[windydrawallday]

FADING COLORS

TL;DR I have both art block and creative burnout, but I'll deal with it.

Even if my wrists feel better, I find myself with just a thread of motivation to draw and less paint. This art technically is from... May this year? Yeah. I felt the art block nibbling at me and ignored it until burnout reunited with it in recent weeks :')

Still, like I reflected before about it: I don't feel as bad as I thought about it... I just, don't need to think deeply about it and it will pass. Plus I was supposed to take a break during June but here we are *rolls eyes beyond the ceiling*.

Tho, I guess I'll take the "tourist" route and check all the cool stuff peeps around me were cooking while I was with my head deep on collab-events and personal projects! Programming reblogs and replying to pending conversations.

I'll get better! But I need to remind myself I'm flesh and bone that needs to rest!!!

[mothwingwritings]

Can we have Ren/Fox (TPOF) and Mc with a child?Long after Fox decided to stay with MC, they both had a daughter (probably not something with consent and a bit of Stockholm syndrome).The daughter asks her mother how she got the scars and this makes MC have memories of post-traumatic stress.

I was so tickled by this ask that I started manically typing out a response for it nearly as soon as I saw it in my ask box (which at this point, was quite some time ago. Forgive me, I am a mess lul). I wrote the whole damn thing in a fit of passion, excited to release it into the world… But ultimately hated it and thought it was garbo, so I scrapped it and tried again. Wrote a second iteration and thought ‘hell yeah, this is it!!! Sick!’, but then I read it AND HATED THAT ONE TOO AAAHHH!!!

I rewrote this… so much…

But I never give up on my dreams, and you shouldn’t either! Persevere! Don’t give up on yourself! Here’s your daily motivation for the day! Keep writing even it makes you cry!!! :D

Anyway, so I wrote this third one, comprised of new stuff and the stuff I actually did like from the first two stabs, and it ended up being the one. Truly it is a Frankenstein of a fic lol. Regardless of all the reworking, I had a lot of fun writing this and enjoyed the prompt very much!!! I I hope you enjoy reading it just as much. :)

I’m sorry if the writing seems a tad too mature for the reader’s daughter in this, writing children isn’t my forte. ^^;

Due to the nature of this fic, IT IS 18+ ONLY!!! Thank you!

WARNINGS: Incessant mentions of abuse of all kinds for reader and mentions of physical abuse for her child!!! Reader is heavily scarred from said abuse and that’s a main theme in this fic so please avoid if that is upsetting to you. Also, though not the main focus, there are multiple mentions of child abuse in this fic, as well a part where reader goes off verbally on her child, so please be mindful of that as well! Other things of note: reader is a parent in this (which you can probably tell by the prev warning lol), reader getting hurt, blood, manipulation, Stockholm syndrome, being held against your will/isolation, mentions of noncon, sad family stuff :(

Diminishing rays of afternoon light splayed through the open window of your quaint living room, casting a comforting orange glow over everything they touched. The light gave the environment an ethereal and nostalgic feel, wrapping you in peaceful warmth as the sun sunk lower and lower. The loveseat you occupied was plush and inviting, and a mug of your favorite tea stood at the ready on the small coffee table beside you, steadily cooling with help from the last hurrah of winter blowing in gently from the outside. Besides the slight chill, the wind brought with it the heavy scent of freshly bloomed flowers, a delightful precursor to the oncoming spring.

Relishing the rare moment of serenity, you couldn’t help but wish that all your days could be this lovely.

You smiled down at your daughter who sat perched in your lap, happily flipping through the newest gift she had acquired from her Father- a thick picture book full of bright illustrations highlighting various exotic animals. As it lay sprawled across her tiny lap, her chubby finger pointed out each animal she took an interest in, her high pitched voice chirping away as she explained what she liked about the creatures. She got particularly excited when she spotted the page full of foxes, jabbing at the red one feverishly as she exclaimed “its daddy!”

Spotting the foxes began her down a path of assigning an animal to not just herself, but you as well. She didn’t find it fair that only her father had kin in the animal world, even though you pointed out that she technically did as well by sharing half the man’s blood. Your revelation did little to deter her, she wanted something new, something just for herself, and she wasn’t going to stop until she found her perfect soul animal. So she continued on, scanning each page in earnest until she found a creature that suited her.

She ended up picking a bunny for herself, supplying you with a comprehensive reason as to why she chose it. As she explained in great length, skimping no details, you couldn’t help but hold back laughter. She spoke as if she were a professor teaching a class, and you did your best to keep a straight face as she yammered on with her shoddy reasoning, deep down knowing she only picked a rabbit because of how cute they are.

After she was done waxing poetic about bunnies, she continued scouring the book, coming to a halt once she reached the wild cat section. She stopped with a gasp, beaming up at you as she pressed her finger firmly against one of the images on the page.

“Mommy this one is you!”

Your eyes traveled to the picture she was rapidly tapping, “An African Wildcat, huh?” You smirked down at the little girl in amusement, “Why did you pick that one for me?”

“Because it looks just like you!”

You chuckled at her enthusiasm, “It looks like me? How so?”

“It has marks just like you do!”

Her innocuous words sent a chill up your spine. Eying the stripes that crossed the cat’s legs, you felt a great unease begin to overtake your body. Her reasoning was not lost on you, the cats coat did quite resemble the jagged scars that covered nearly every inch of your body, and just like the feline in her book, your limbs were the most prominent location of said ‘markings’. You quickly shook your head, not wanting to dwell on it further. In hopes of moving on from the subject, the outpouring of words that flew from your mouth were jumbled and messy.

“O-oh, I see,” you stuttered, clearing your throat to steady your voice, “well you certainly picked a cute animal for me! Thank you baby, it was a good choice.”

She smiled at you innocently, a gesture that usually made your heart melt with affection. But as her tiny hands moved from the book to your arms, that smile did nothing but fill you with dread, the realization that you wouldn’t be getting out of this sticky situation hitting you like a brick to the face. 

“Yeah mommy, the kitty’s marks are just like these ones,” her stubby fingers gently traced the old wounds, a look of reverence reflected on her cherubic features. “They make you look like that kitty mommy,” her little voice cooed, “I like them a lot!”

Your muscles constricted at her words, a slight tremor coursing through you as you involuntarily tightened your grip on her. She took note of this, looking up at your strained features with a puzzled expression on her face.

“Don’t be sad mommy,” she spoke assuredly, “I really do like them! I think they are pretty!”

Her words burned you, scorching the inside of your frozen shell of a body, leaving you feeling sickly and discombobulated. The room around you started to spin in a hazy blur, a wave of nausea making you nearly wretch. Your breathing grew erratic as you tried to calm yourself, inwardly repeating that your daughter was just a child, a little girl barely four years of age who had an incredibly limited view of the world. Her words were not meant to upset you. Her opinions were coming from a place of total naivety.

Yet still, the mental assurance did little to help with the extremely uncomfortable position you now founds yourself in. It wasn’t as if this was her first time noticing your scars. She had mentioned them before, her curious mind trying to piece together the reason that her arms appeared different from your own. Each time she brought your old wounds up you couldn’t help but feel flustered, responding with weak explanations and misdirection to try and quickly brush off her questioning.

The marks came from a silly mistake, or a childhood accident, or from a careless moment when mommy should have been paying more attention. It was always excuses on repeat. How many lies had you told her on this topic alone?

But even if they were lies, it beat telling her the truth. You didn’t want to have to explain where the scars on your body actually came from to anyone, let alone a child, and especially not to your own daughter. How could you possibly word it gently, or in a way that she would understand, when you barely understood why you had them yourself? How could you look her in the eye and tell her that these markings were a permanent sign that you had been very, very hurt and that it was her own fathers hands that inflicted the pain?

Reliving the horrific moments that left your body in such a state was overwhelming enough on its own, but to also have to lay bare her father’s sins, relay to her the unsavory proclivities of a man who she idolized and adored, was not something you were keen on doing.

She didn’t know her daddy like you knew him. She was ignorant to the constant state of concern you lived in, unaware of the worries that plagued your mind and kept you up each night. All the troubles of the hell she had been born into were completely lost on the small, carefree girl.

But honestly that was for the best. You had made an unspoken promise the moment she entered your life that you would protect her no matter what. From the day of her birth onward it became your mission to keep her as happy and healthy as possible.

Ren had broken you, but she did not have to suffer the same fate.

At this point in her life, your daughter knew nothing of her daddy’s profession or ‘hobbies’, and you wanted it to remain that way for as long as possible, if not for the rest of her life. You dreaded each time Ren came home from an auction, terrified he may let casually slip too many details about his ‘lively client’ or that he would carelessly step through the door with the stains of his liaisons still littering his clothes. Your daughter was at an age where she was brimming with questions, and she was relentless in getting answers to each question she asked. Everything had to be explained in complete detail for her to be satisfied, drop the subject, and move on. She was a smart little thing, possibly too smart for her own good. You highly doubted a silly joke or wave of the hand would assuage her whirring mind should Ren grow too impetuous in her presence.

And should her questioning become too pesky, you fretted over what Ren’s reaction to it may be. The more you tried to avoid thinking about it the more you seemed to fixate on the topic, pondering just how much goading it would take from your daughter before his temper would rear its ugly head.  You, above anyone, had firsthand experience in just how volatile the man could be, the scars that littered your body a testament to his turbulent emotions and violent outbursts.

Looking back on it now, it’s a wonder you survived any of it at all.

Ren often told you he loved you, each confession spoken through honeyed words that spilled from his lips easily and often.  And while you didn’t doubt those words (you knew better than to, at this point), you also knew his sweet nothings weren’t merely a term of endearment, they also served as your curse. He loved you, but he also loved your fealty to him, your adoration and worship of him and only him. Should you not reciprocate his feelings as quickly or ardently as he expected, the mere thought of whatever punishment he would concoct was enough to send you into a debilitating panic attack.

There were few things he loathed more than when you flinched from his affection or if you exhibited any sign of distress towards his presence, especially after he had spent so many years going above and beyond to provide for you, devote himself to you. You had learned early on to keel any feelings of aversion you had to his advances, several of your more prominent scars a brutal reminder of that misstep alone.

 If your daughter uncovered the truth and saw her father for who he truly was, if she began to fear him the way you feared him, how would he respond?  If not only his partner, but his own daughter started shying away from him, what length would he go to to correct this behavior?

Dwelling on it made your skin crawl.

But perhaps all of your worries were asinine. Despite his inclination for cruelty, Ren had never so much as raised a hand towards your daughter, even when she did act up. If anything, he was overprotective of her, barely letting her move faster than a brisk jog lest she fall and hurt herself. He hated seeing his little girl experience even a modicum of physical pain, mentioning to you previously that were he able, he’d keep her locked up in a padded room all day and night to prevent any foreseeable accidents or injuries. Surely it was just his idea of a joke, but the insinuation still made you cringe.

It was almost comical, just how greatly the manifestation of his affection for her differed from how he showed his love for you.

His domineering nature shielded her from experiencing any true pain. Every scrape, bruise, and cut she ever received was superficial, nothing that caused major bleeding or left a lasting impression. She had no way of knowing what had been done to you to cause the scars that marred your form, the torment and hell you experienced with each slash, smack, burn. Hell, she probably didn’t even really understand what a scar actually was. All she knew was that her mommy and daddy had strange marks on their skin that didn’t follow any kind of set pattern, weird jagged lines and indents that her soft skin was curiously free from. The mystery of it all was as puzzling to her young mind as it was enticing.

However, some mysteries were best left unsolved, and just as with each other time she brought up this hot topic, you found yourself unable to look into her clear, bright eyes and tell her any semblance of the truth. She may have been forced upon you, but she was your daughter. You loved her, and you refused to be the one to shatter her innocence. You would keep her ignorant for as long as possible, shielding her to the endless nightmare of your daily lives, even if it cost you your sanity.

“Mommy,” her voice jarred you, dragging you from your thoughts, “mommy did you hear me? I said I think they are pretty!”

“T-that’s… I…” You stuttered, struggling to find the right words to say, your voice coming out much smaller than you intended it to. The room felt like it had dropped thirty degrees, your body twitching in response to the sudden chill.

“Daddy told me he gave some of them to you, like this one,” her pudgy, cold finger pressed into the faded heart that resided on your chest, the first of many indelible sins he had etched onto your form. Only the top half of the carved symbol was viewable above the collar of your shirt, so she tugged at the loose hem until she could see it in its horrible entirety.

“Daddy said he gave you this one because he loves you so much,” her voice grew quiet, a thoughtful look in her eye as they drank in wounds you wished you could forget, “Daddy loves me too, right mommy? You think he’ll give me a cute heart someday too?”

You felt as if you had been hit by a train.

“S-top,” the words were forced from your throat, airy and breathless, as if someone was wringing your neck to make them come out, “p-please, just stop talking.”

“What did you say mama,” your daughters sing-song voice responded as her fingers continued to trace and prod your scars, “You are whispering, is it a secret?”

“I told you to SHUT UP!”

As if following your command, your booming voice instantly silenced the small girl. Unused to such a violent outburst from her mother, her happy-go-lucky nature quickly shifted to one of alert, her tiny body going rigid as she stared up at you with fearful eyes.

Seeing her in such a state and knowing that you were the cause of it would normally have killed you inside, making you fall to your knees to beg for the child’s forgiveness. But right now, the thin thread that had been holding you together had snapped, and your words rushed out in a torrent you couldn’t begin to quell.

“Shut up, shut up, shut UP!” You seethed, clasping your hands to your ears to try and block out your own intrusive voice, “Just STOP TALKING about it! What are you even saying? Why would you ever want to look like this?!”

Tears started to flood your eyes, blurring the image of the girl who had quickly jumped from your lap and was now cowering before you. Through your bleary vision, you could see tears were brimming her eyes as well.

“You… You have no idea,” your voice warbled, shaking in equal parts grief and frustration, “You have no clue what you are saying, so just STOP IT. KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT AND DON’T YOU DARE SPEAK OF IT AGAIN!”

You slunk from the chair down to the floor, burying your face in your cold, stiff hands. The soft blubbering of your daughter could be heard through your own sobbing.

“I-I’m sorry mommy. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

Hearing her broken voice began to shatter the spell you had been under, instant regret jerking you roughly back to reality. Your head sunk lower, your body scrunching itself up as tightly as possible to hide from this cruel reality.

Your screams were born from deeply buried feelings of hatred, tucked far, far away as a means of self-preservation. For a moment, you felt as if you despised your daughter, her existence tethering you to this wretched excuse of a life, binding you irrevocably to Ren. But as you lifted your heavy head, glancing up to stare into her young face, a face so very similar to your own, a face contorted in panic and sadness over her mother’s abrupt descent into madness… you realized it wasn’t her that you hated.

It was yourself.

Your daughter didn’t deserve this. She deserved normalcy. She deserved a father that didn’t pose a threat to her. She deserved a mother that wasn’t ruined by his hands. She deserved a happy and untroubled life, not to be stuck being raised in a barbed cage, navigating her way through life with nothing but the shattered remains of a battered woman to guide her.

“I’m so sorry,” you choked under the weight of your overwhelming emotions, snot and tears running freely down your ruddy cheeks and chin, “I’m so, so sorry baby…”

“What the hell is going on?”

You hadn’t heard the front door open, nor had you heard Ren’s jubilant greeting as he entered your home. He had no doubt been upset by the lack of welcome-it was one thing to be ignored by a child, but his doting wife? That was not something he was not apt to look past.

But surely any feelings of annoyance or frustration fled from his mind the moment he entered the room, his eyes falling upon your crumpled, messy form collapsed on the floor. You cursed his arrival, upset that he entered the scene at such a compromising time, right as you were struggling to regain an ounce of composure and properly apologize to the little girl who had done nothing wrong.

“D-daddy,” your daughter’s voice warbled as she barreled towards him, colliding into his waiting embrace. You wiped at your face in a desperate attempt to hide your previous outpouring of emotions, doing your best to avoid eye contact with Ren as his sharp gaze quickly flicked from you, to his daughter.

This had already become enough of a scene without Ren’s interference, it was best to try and begin damage control now. 

“Daddy I-I made mommy cry!” Tears continued to pour from your daughter’s eyes, her face twisting into a look of pure dismay. Her misguided admission of guilt made you recoil, knowing full well it would grant her no favors with the person she seeking comfort from. “I’m really sorry daddy! I didn’t mean to!”

After several endless seconds of silence, Ren spoke.

“… You made her cry?”

His voice was far sharper than it needed to be, further agitating the precarious state of affairs. In most cases he would have offered your daughter leniency, letting her get away with far more than she probably should. However that leniency was null and void if you ended up suffering in the process.  Ren could not forgive anyone that caused you any duress (himself, of course, being the exemption) even if that person was his own flesh and blood.

“What do you mean you made her cry? What the hell did you do to her?”

“I-I don’t know,” she wailed, a fresh wave of tears spurred on by the accusatory tone of her father’s voice, “I just told mommy I thought her marks were pretty and then she started crying! I wasn’t lying daddy, I like them! I think they make mommy look really pretty!”

“Her marks…?” Ren’s look of vexation began to dissipate as the meaning of her words donned on him. He lifted his arm, rolling up his sleeve to reveal his own scars to the little girl. Pointing a clawed finger to them, he leaned down until he was looking her in the eye, “You mean like these?”

As she nodded her head vigorously in confirmation, Ren tutted, “That’s the reason for all the water works? An innocent compliment started all this fussing?” He scoffed, shaking his head, “Isn’t that a little bit… silly?

You tensed at the sound of his barking laugh, your frown deepening as an amused grin spread wider across his lips. You wished that you could say it was shocking for him to have such disregard after finding the two of you in such an agitated state, but it was painfully in character of him to shrug off your misery and suffering as inconsequential.  How he could so nonchalantly normalize this hellish situation he kept you and your child ensnared in, you would never understand.

Your daughter was apparently sharing similar thoughts, as her face began to once more morph into a pre-sobbing scowl. She was no doubt wounded that her father was not offering her the comfort she was seeking, her emotional state already greatly weakened by her mother’s venomous tantrum.

To help quell another round of tears, Ren pulled the child closer, wrapping her up in his arms so that her tiny form was nearly enveloped by him.  “Shhh, no more tears angel,” he cooed sweetly, patting her head gently to appease her, “There isn’t any reason to cry, especially because… Well, you’re right! Mommy’s whole body is pretty, isn’t it? Her marks just compliment the beauty that’s already there.”

Slowly but surely, her tears began to dissipate. Hunched over shoulders loosened, and sniffles and hiccups gave way to even breathing. Like clockwork, her father’s gentle handling soothed her, the same touch that destroyed you offering her salvation.

As if under a spell, the turmoil that had overcome your daughter quickly began to vanish, her sobbing fading into quiet sniffles. Once she was fully calmed, Ren continued speaking, “That’s all you meant to say to mommy, right angel? I’m sorry she took it the wrong way, she’s probably just tired or hungry, you know how mommy gets. She’ll get over it in no time flat!”

Heat spread through your body at his flippant dismissal of your feelings, an indignant blush lighting your cheeks as you gripped your hands tightly at your side. Your previous emotional episode left you all but drained, but your will to fight back against his callous commentary could never truly be contained.

“In fact, I bet she is already over it now,” Ren’s voice took on a jovial tone as he directed his focus solely on you, “Aren’t you, pumpkin?”

With the ball suddenly in your court, you flinched as both sets of expectant eyes fell on you. Your own eyes darted from Ren’s piercing glare, down to your daughter’s wide-eyed look of unbridled hope. You felt much like the rabbit that had been caught by the fox, stuck in a lose-lose situation. Seeing him hunched over her small body as she clutched to him as a life line, openly concerned that her mother may once more reject her while her father remained a bastion of strength and understanding, left you reeling. Either you would get heated again and stay the villain, but possibly hold on to an ounce of your dignity, or concede to Ren and have yet another piece of your soul wither away and die-the price to pay so that your daughter could remain in blissful ignorance for another day.

“Aren’t you, pumpkin?” He repeated himself slowly, enunciating each word. The kindness in his voice serving only as a mask for the threat buried beneath.

“Y-yes,” you responded quickly, shooting them both a smile you hoped was convincing, “I am very sorry, baby. Daddy is right. Mommy is just… tired.”

A serene smile lit her face, your words placating her. Seeing her happy once more helped relieve a bit of the ache in your own heart, making the lie worth it.

“Good, good,” Ren affirmed with a nod, carefully detaching himself from your daughter as he stood, “but you know little one, mommy deserves some love too, don’t you think? She may have been in the wrong, but it’s not nice to make her cry like that. Why don’t you go give her a hug, hm?”

With no further persuading necessary, she quickly padded over to you, hopping on your lap with so much enthusiasm that it nearly knocked the wind from you. Her arms tightly latched around your torso as she smushed her face into your chest, rubbing it back and forth like she was trying to burrow beneath your skin.

“I love you mommy,” her voice spoke clearly, any hint of previous sadness long gone. You sighed, relieved that this dramatic chapter was over as you pulled your daughter closer to you.

“I love you too.”

During this show of affection, Ren had made his way behind you, slinking so deftly you hadn’t even known he had moved until you heard him chuckle softly behind you.

“This is what I like to see,” he spoke with a sickeningly dreamy sigh, “nothing makes me happier than when my two girls are happy.”

He placed his hands gingerly atop your shoulders, trailing them down until they rested on your arms. His thumbs pressed gently against the marred skin, rubbing in a small circular motion in an attempt to subdue you. His claws grazed your flesh, uncomfortably scratching against you as they snagged against your skin.

He planted a firm and lingering kiss to the side of your head, pulling away just enough that his lips grazed the shell of your ear. “There really was nothing to cry about,” he whispered breathily, his words quiet enough that despite your daughters’ proximity, she would have no chance of hearing them. “It’s almost unfair how gorgeous you are, scars and all. But you must know that, right my sweet pet? I tell you all the time.”

Ren took in a deep breath, releasing it in a shaky sigh, “Seeing these scars reminds me of all we have been through, all that we share. They are a symbol of our bond.”

One of his claws pressed down sharply, a small bead of blood pooling around the piercing. Leisurely he began to drag his finger up your arm, a thin red line following in its wake. You shivered at the burning sensation, but deigned to give him any reaction further than that.

“Don’t forget pumpkin, these pretty marks are a reminder of my constant love for you.” He chuckled softly, peppering a few kisses to the back of your neck while his claws slowly sunk deeper, “And right now I am feeling  terribly sentimental, so for old times’ sake, why don’t I add a few more to remind you just how precious to me you are~?”

[moyokeansimblr]

people i’d like to know better

idk when i did this last and i was hoping someone would invite me to do it again when i saw it going around again, so thanks @espurrsso!!

last song: Teo - Immortal because he's the wielki finał polskich kwalifikacji wildcard so I had to listen and see where to fit him in my ranking (I put him 6/11 if anybody cares for some reason)

favorite color: 💛

last movie: the dead don't die

last book: I truthfully can't remember the last time I read a book whoops

sweet, spicy, or savory: always spicy

last thing i googled: @andrevasims 😆 forget what i needed to get on your blog for...but i always do that instead of looking for people on here i google

current obsession: Līgo, it's been in my head 24/7 ever since the supernova songs came out on december 4th, pretty sure i memorized it at this point

looking forward to: Survivor 48 starts towards the end of the month, also this saturday and next saturday (eurovision national finals), also looking forward to finding the time to finish copying over all my ts2 cc to my linux laptop so i can maybe get to play again soon because i haven't for a few weeks now, i'm also completely over it being winter so looking forward to spring but it's wisconsin so who knows when that'll be, and lastly a bit of a weird one but at the end of this month one of our kittens - Cooper - who we got in september (was born in july) who still hasn't developed any external sex bits so we've not known this whole time whether they're male or female but is gonna have an ultrasound done so we'll get to know finally. it doesn't matter to us of course we love Cooper no matter but for health reasons the vet wants to know in case Cooper has anything internal that should be external and could cause health concerns down the road if we don't find out now

i'm gonna be that person and just tag anybody who hasn't done it yet this time around and wants to, 'cause idk who has or hasn't

[xxwhiskeyxx]

If you still take writing requests

I had an idea for an Alpha x Ghoulette fanfic

Alpha gets incredibly overheated because of his abilities and his temper, ghoulette reader cools him down because they run naturally cold

Fluff comfort :))

Anyways have a wonderful day!

Again if you don't take requests anymore I'm do sorry!

Elsa and her Fire Boy

Hello from the barrel of accidental hiatus! I do infact still take requests I have just been in a writers block since the last semester of college due to personal reasons but I have been wanting to try to get back into writing a bit (this is something i have said time and time again and I shall attempt whenever is possible!) I always love getting requests and actually have some in my inbox that I have been meaning to catch up on (I am so sorry if you’re reading this and they belong to you and i haven’t fulfilled your wishes yet, theyre coming i swear!) I am hoping to crank out some of them this next week since I will be busy the rest of this one as I am going to houston to visit a friend for her birthday (we’re seeing the Ghovie!)/ celebrating her recently discovered pregnancy! Anyways, I shall shut my yap and get to the summary!

So the lovely @evolutionghoul requested a fluff comfort fic with the ever so hotheaded Alpha! For context, reader shall be a air/water hybrid ghoulette who is a healer in the infirmary with the Quintessence ghouls. Now let’s see what the barrel cooks up!

-Love Whiskey

It had been a grueling day, with a never-ending procession of siblings and ghouls suffering from seasonal hay fever, weather-induced arthritis & migraine flares, and colds. The (height) hybrid had been tirelessly darting around, offering their assistance wherever it was needed. She had been seen sitting with Zephyr, gently applying icy hot on their aching joints and later placing her cool hands on Mist's forehead to alleviate her pounding head from the cluster headache triggered by the changing season and bass lessons with the kits that afternoon. She had also been glimpsed rubbing Omega's back and shoulders after he had spent the afternoon adjusting the vast majority of the Abbey's Earth ghouls that had overworked themselves trying to get the spring harvest planted as soon as possible after the last frost of winter had melted.

"(Y/N), hon, you can head home, ya know; your shift ended an hour ago?" Aether calls from the entrance of her office.

Glancing up from where she had been typing a report out on the computer, the (hair-colored) ghoulette sighs, "I know, but I have to finish these reports for Meg before he realizes, or he'll be here until tomorrow trying to finish it so he can go on that trip with you, Papa Copia, and Papa Terzo to the sister church in Italy next week." (Y/N) takes a moment to stretch and pop her back after sitting in her hunched-over typing position

The older ghoul chuckles, "Fair enough, I can grab my laptop and can come help you with that, so you don't have to-" 

Before he could finish his sentence, the door to the infirmary slams open as a familiar Fire ghoul storms in, smoke quite literally streaming from his nose and ears, "Where the fuck is Aether!? His fucking runt of a 'successor' just ruined my fucking guitar!" Alpha snarls loudly, prowling through the infirmary in search of his victim; the heat from the enormous ghoul's body is so high that both (Y/N) and Aether can feel it from her office

"Fuck, Aeth hide in here, 'll I go distract him!" (Y/N) whisper yells, standing and basically yanking the Quint into her office with unexpected strength as the emergency system triggers and the alarms begin to blare. The hybrid ghoulette had become quite close to the former lead guitarist and was very intuned with his infamous temper.

Racing down the hallway after closing the door to her office, (Y/N) searches for her friend throughout the infirmary. 

While the infirmary's emergency system blares, (Y/N) spots Alpha's fiery figure stomping through the chaos. She quickly maneuvers through the distressed patients and concerned ghouls, her eyes fixed on Alpha's burning rage. 

Spotting him near the entrance, she steadies herself and approaches him with a calming but assertive demeanor, ready to divert his destructive fury away from Aether. "Alpha, hey! What's going on?" to which he whirls around with a snarl, "Can't you notice I'm dealing with something right now? Don't bother me with your questions. Where the fuck is Aether!" he barks.

The harsh words make (Y/N) shrink back slightly, involuntary tears creeping into her eyes, but she quickly steals herself and bristles, "Calm your tits and realize who you're talking to, Mr., now try again." watching as he seems to realize his tone and softens, sighing. "Sorry (Y/N), I'm just pissed at that little shit Phantom...Aeon..whatever the fuck his name is, he broke my guitar fucking around with Dew and Ifrit." he goes to rub his face but hisses as the literally red-hot appendage singes his beard.

The hybrid chuckles, "C'mon big guy, it's time for some cuddles and talk therapy," taking the large ghoul's hand with no issue with her cooling abilities already working full blast and dragging him down the hallway.

Looking around the infirmary, (Y/N) quickly finds the room she's looking for, "Code Pants on Fire," she giggles as she opens the door, making Alpha grumble disgruntledly before grunting as he's pushed onto the couch. "You know the drill, shirt off, gotta cool you off before you trigger the sprinklers again. We both know wet pissy Alpha is worse than dry pissy Alpha," (Y/N) teases, stripping down to the tanktop she wears under her scrub top.

The Fire ghoul continues to grumble about 'stupid runt' and 'Damn Elsa and her stupid icepack body,' the nickname having been dubbed upon (Y/N) after a drunken night of a Disney movie marathon with all of the packs and she had performed a damn near perfect rendition of 'Let it Go' using her air affinity to make snow from her water and even made a miniature snowman in the middle of the kitchen that was not very much appreciated by a half asleep still drunk Pebble who slipped on Bitchloff, named by Alpha and Swiss, on their trek to the kitchen for water the next morning.

"Oh hush, we both know you love cuddle time with me, ya sentient air fryer," (Y/N) laughs as she flops atop the pissy ghoul, whose flicking tail then twanks her ass, making the ghoulette squeal, earning her a laugh. "I will not admit anything, but having my favorite girl on top of me and cooling me down is something I will never complain about," Alpha smirks down at her.

Rolling her eyes, (Y/N) rests her chin atop his toned chest and runs her ice-cold fingers up his overheated sides, making the ghoul squeal and her cackle. This descends them into a wrestling match.

*Minny Timeskip brought to you by Alpha's tits*

Not long later, Alpha was eased into a purring and much cooler ghoul, very content having (Y/N) cool fingers running through his hair as she hummed. Soon, the door cracks, and Aether's hesitant voice comes from the doorway. "Everything all good in here?" he calls, "Very much so; got things calmed down out there?" (Y/N) returns, sitting up slightly, much to Alpha's discretion; a soft growl rumbles from his chest as she moves. "Yep! Also, Alpha, I called Phantom, who told me he fixed it. Just a little quint magick and it's good as new; he is very sorry for breaking it, which I will add that it was Dewdrop's fault because he threw it at Phantom just before you came in," Aether explains.

The Fire ghoul sits up suddenly, groaning as he rubs his face, "Fuck..I need to apologize now, don't I" he sighs as (Y/N) chuckles, "Yup! But later, I was enjoying my personal heater," she chirps before yanking him back down, making Alpha yelp and Aether laugh, "Alright lovebirds, I'll let Bug know that you'll be by later" he says before closing the door.

Alpha chuffs as he presses a kiss to the hickey he had left on (Y/N)'s neck last night, "You're lucky I like you, and I enjoy my personal icepack," he mumbles before relaxing into her again.

[pollenallergie]

Happy Spring! How 'booout something short and fluffy about Billiam Knight picking wildflowers for you? 🥰🌼

ahahsbdbsbsndj this is the dream come true!! also umm so he’s not picking flowers for you???or well, he doesn’t start out picking them for you… i hope that’s ok!!! 💖💖 also i know you said something short… but i love this man too much to get him anything less than 1k words. enjoy!!!

He Loves Me

CW: Just fluff. Billy mentions making love to you (uses those exact words) once, but it doesn’t get any more suggestive than that.

Word Count: 1.9k

18+ only!!

“He loves me,” you pluck off a small petal from the delicate flower in your hands, a tiny little sweet violet that you’d plucked from the forest floor, “he loves me not.”

From just a few metres away, where he’s camped out near a small brook, crouching down by the flowing water as his eyes attentively scan the small patch of land in front of him in search of his beloved Forget-Me-Nots, the tips of Billy’s ears flush a bright cherry red as he catches wind of the words you utter to yourself. He temporarily halts his flower search as he straightens up, rising from his stooped position by the flowing water, now looking around the wooded area in search of you.

Once his eyes finally land on you, Billy’s breath hitches as he takes in the lovely sight of you, bathed in the rays of sunlight that leak through the forest’s overstory, looking positively radiant as you deftly meander around the forest floor, careful not to crush any of the flourishing fauna beneath your feet as you walk. He knew you’d look beautiful here, otherworldly even. Granted, Billy thinks you look beautiful anywhere you go, but there’s something about seeing you like this, at home in nature, that seems to highlight your elegance more so than the gloomy city ever could.

That’s one of the main reasons he brought you here, to this serene timberland, a stunning nature trail near Woolstone that his late mother used to bring him to when he was a young boy. One of the other reasons, of course, was that Billy wanted to collect some freshly bloomed wildflowers that he could press and add to the multimedia piece he’s been working on in his spare time. The final reason was that the doom and gloom of the fading winter season had been getting to you two, and he knew that heralding in the first weekend of spring with a picnic in the peaceful English countryside would be the perfect thing to liven both your spirits again.

The picnic portion of your day trip ended long ago, the two of you making quick work of the cucumber sandwiches, sea salt crisps, and orange slices you’d packed to eat. Then, you both began simply wandering along the trail, looking for the perfect flowers to complete Billy’s artwork. The two of you had started your meanderings with hands clasped together as you walked side-by-side, relishing the continued closeness. However, you’d soon split up, wandering off a little ways away from each other to search for different kinds of flowers; he’d wandered over to the babbling brook to look for his beloved Forget-Me-Nots and pileworts, while you’d kept more towards the greenery, searching for windflowers and sweet violets, as well as any stray snowdrops leftover from the harsh winter months. And now, well… Now, you’re both a bit distracted, halting your initial flower searching; you’re distracted by the innocent little game you’ve begun playing, and Billy’s distracted by you. Your beauty, your grace, your soft, sweet happiness, it captivates Billy, it enchants him, beguiles him to the point where he finds it difficult to focus on anything but you. Although, that’s not necessarily a unique occurrence, Billy often finds himself distracted by you and, adorably, even merely by the thought of you.

This time, though, he’s pulled out of his enchantment by the sound of you uttering the horrible words, “He loves me not,” as you pluck the final petal from your flower, dropping it and letting it fall to the ground as you breathe out a wistful sigh.

Oh, no, that simply won’t do, Billy decides as he reluctantly refocuses his energy on searching for flowers, crouching back down near the bank of the stream to get a better look. Billy makes quick work of gently snatching up a divine little pilewort before rising to stand once again and jogging over to you so that he can hand it to you.

“Here,” he murmurs, capturing your attention as he holds the dainty little yellow flower out to you.

You sport an adorably delighted expression as you huff out a surprised chuckle.

“What’s this for? You’re not going to make me carry all the flowers, are you?” You ask bemusedly as you accept the flower from Billy.

He grins bashfully, his cheeks going rosy with blush, as he shakes his head and replies, “No, no. I just- You should keep going.”

You crinkle your nose as you flash him a confused expression, “Keep going?”

“Erm, you- you should- you know- erm- the thing with the petals,” Billy stutters bashfully before abandoning his attempt at a verbal explanation and, instead, simply miming plucking the petals off of a flower. You catch on pretty quickly and giggle at the implication.

“Well, alright,” you respond softly, bemusedly, before plucking off a delicate little yellow petal from the flower he’d given you and following it up by murmuring, “He loves me.”

Billy watches intently as you gradually rid the flower of its pretty petals until, finally, you end up with another green stalk and petal-less peduncle. Unfortunately, you again end on the words, “He loves me not,” so Billy immediately springs into action. He rushes back over to the brook to grab a cluster of Forget-Me-Nots, opting for grabbing multiple flowers this time with the hopes that it will increase the odds of you getting a happier ending. He then rushes back over to you and thrusts the bundle of flowers towards you, practically forcing them into your hands as he silently urges you to continue. You chuckle at his adorably peculiar behaviour but oblige him nonetheless, resuming your petal-plucking.

Once again, Billy watches intently as you continue with your childish game, gnawing anxiously on his lower lip as if the sanctity of his future relies on this silly little game, and, to him, it sort of does. So, imagine his disappointment when you once again end on, “He loves me not.”

Of course, Billy can’t have that, won’t have that, so he rushes back to the brook to collect even more flowers, grabbing as many as he can possibly carry before hastily bringing them back to you.

“Billy,” you exclaim humorously, “you’re gonna pick all the new pretty flowers at this rate! All the plants’ patience this past winter, as they waited and waited for the weather to warm up so they could finally prosper, will have been for naught!”

“It’ll be alright, dove, just keep going,” he urges you, flashing you as encouraging of a smile as he can muster, though the feeling of his heart dreadfully sinking to the pit of his stomach hampers his ability to maintain the happy expression.

This is incredibly important to Billy; that much has become evident by now thanks to his odd behaviour, but you can’t for the life of you figure out why that is. Rather than questioning, you simply decide to indulge him as you once again begin plucking the delicate little petals off of all the flowers. Meanwhile, Billy waits with bated breath, nervously picking at the skin around his nails and shifting from foot to foot as he watches you.

As you begin to pluck the petals of the last in-tact flower in your grasp, Billy feels his heart lurch up into his throat, acting as a lump that he struggles to swallow around. This time around, your utterance of the words, “He loves me not,” aligned with you plucking the first petal of the flower. However, in your past attempts, you’d always had to start with, “He loves me.” Perhaps this change is not all that significant, but it gives Billy a bit of hope that maybe this time, you’ll finally end on the right note. Although, that thought in and of itself fills him with even more anxiety because, if his hopes do come to fruition, that means he’ll have to confess something to you, something that he’s not sure you’ll react favourably to.

Suddenly, the moment Billy’s been waiting anxiously for finally comes to pass. In your grasp, you’ve got a tiny little Forget-Me-Not with only two petals left on it. As you go to pluck one of those petals off, Billy feels as if he may vomit, or pass out, or both, or worse.

“He loves me not,” you breathe out quickly as you pluck the second to last petal. You both know what comes next, but only one of you seems to recognise the significance behind it.

“He loves me,” you murmur as you pluck the final petal, releasing it from your hold almost as soon as you’ve removed it from the flower, making it slowly fall to the forest floor, the tiny blue floral tissue fluttering in the wind as it sinks down, down, down. Before you can comment on this novel ending to your little game, Billy surges forward, capturing your lips in a warm embrace with his own. You let out a surprised squeak at the suddenness of the kiss before swiftly melting into it, dropping all the stems once clutched in your hands as you wrap your arms round Billy, tangling your fingers in the soft hair at the nape of his neck.

All too soon, he’s breaking the kiss, offering one last peck to satiate you before pulling away just slightly. He rests his forehead against yours with his eyes still closed as he tentatively whispers, “He does love you, you know?”

You had no memory of closing your eyes, too wrapped up in his sweet kiss to notice, but soon you find yourself opening them again to fix him with a curious look.

He can’t possibly mean…

Your thoughts are swiftly interrupted by the sound of Billy exhaling a shaky breath. He suddenly opens his eyes, his gaze meeting your own, filling your line of sight with the image of his lovely brown eyes.

“I love you,” he confesses softly, nervously.

The most radiant smile Billy’s ever seen soon takes shape on your features, seemingly lighting up the whole world around you, though that joy is only meant for him. You can feel the raw emotion clawing up through your throat and stinging your eyes, making tears well up as you softly, genuinely reply, “I love you too, Billy.”

The breath of relief he sighs is genuine, as is the beaming smile he flashes you just before he leans in to kiss you again. This kiss is much deeper and more passionate than the last, though it’s just as sweet.

When you finally part, Billy giggles and says, “Give me a few minutes to grab some more flowers, and then we can leave.”

You look at him with an expression that is both quizzical and fond as you reply, “Why would we leave?”

“Love, why would we stay? ‘S not like I can make love to you here; people come ‘ere with their kids,” Billy replies as though it’s obvious. The chuff you let out in response to that is equal parts shocked and amused.

“Just give me five minutes, petal,” he calls out to you as he begins to jog back to the brook nearby, “and maybe grab me a couple of sweet violets while you wait! Oh, and some snowdrops if you can find any!”

Your heart warms at the sound of the new pet name he’s given you whilst you chuckle at his antics, shaking your head with a sickeningly fond smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you look down and resume your search for flowers. That’s your man, your bashful Billygoat, and he loves you.

[prettyflyshyguy]

little bit of a vent rant? a vant. A rent. Anyway.

Winter has been tough and I keep flip flopping between wanting to work on X Y or Z project and then when I have the time, I'm too tired, or manifesting the energy/motivation is hard. Sometimes you have to very literally make yourself do the thing, but its hard. Anyway grumbling about the creative process, time management, and related under the cut.

It's been a tough year and a very rough winter period. Like we had a couple good days of sunny weather and it was so nice and now its wet and miserable therefore I'm wet and miserable and this fucking sucks.

As soon as I'm done with this Horus Heresy army in a week I'm gonna try and work on Virtual Ground again. Dropped off a bit over the worst of winter but I'm hoping the shift into spring soon will help me feel better. Its like, I'm drawing or doing something else: I should be painting my space marines.

I'm painting my space marines: I should be working on Virtual Ground.

Don't get me wrong I'm so excited for the event I'm painting space marines for, it's gonna be awesome, I think its just the depressing oppressive winter this year specifically thats hit me really hard.

I'm juggling a few things to do with business and career stuff and I have a very strong feeling I'm about to receive an absolutely gutting rejection email tomorow. Mostly just because I didn't fit the criteria as good as the average candidate that applied for The Thing, and that I was told pretty candidly that there's very limited slots and there's a lot of competition. Just very tired of always being told "you did really well but..." I want to have hope but I know it's gonna absolutely fillet me if it falls through.

I'm a fighter. I just wish it wasn't so hard to get things up and running. I want to make my comic, I want to run my art business, I want to make a living. A decent living. I don't need to be rich off it I just want it to be profitable in a justifiable capacity thats self containing and also gives me enough dollary doos to buy some nice things here and there yknow. Like to live.

Anyway I've told myself I'm trying to ballance my negative feelings cause the last year (like as in from today, going back a year) I've been Real Up and Real Down so we're gonna end on something of a 'manifest healthier attitude' note - don't give up your dreams, be real with yourself, get a healthier sleeping pattern, eat well, exercise, you'll feel better, and learn to recognise when its the dog shit Melbourne winter weather that's making you feel like utter crap - and that it too, like all things, shall pass.

Pic unrelated but here's a cute chibi of Walking for anyone who dared to read the horrors of my twisted mind. Have a treat.

[axcel-lucci]

Secret...?

Trafalgar Law x fem!reader

Part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, this is part 9, part 10

Night soon had casted upon the island, it was rather cold, even the inside was chilly.

But it wasn't something (y/n) was never used to.

Of course, if one grew in a winter island, wouldn't one be accustomed to it?

She walked through the dark halls, not knowing where or what to find... But ended up by the big garden backgard then at the gazebo out there

"The snow has started to fall..." She muttered to herself as she walked towards the chairs and table inside the gazebo.

Humming to herself, she looked at the side of the manor and observed how, through the old time, vines growing, almost engulfing a whole side of the house in a beautiful nature way...

Though she'd remember, every "spring", even though it was winter all year around, the flowers would still grow as if the snow covering the ground never existed...

The vines would be filled with red flowers, she'd always pick them and give them to Dice, and Dice would always, ALWAYS, place them in the same vase...

The flowers would wilt in a few weeks but... Dice cherished them.

Then Lucifer would even climb the tallest trees just to pick a single apple, a SINGLE APPLE.

But hell, that apple was crispy and sweet...

(Y/n) smiled to herself as the past memories flooded her mind like it happened yesterday, still clearer than the purest water in the sea...

Though she did frown whenever she remembers how Lucifer would usually climb anything climbable only to get stuck at the top and her having to get him.

She then jumped when a thick warm coat draped around her shoulders; "What're you doing out here? It's cold." Lucifer chuckled as he walked to be beside her

She huffed a bit but moved a little farther away.

If the silence and tension was describable, it would've been like hell. Literally.

Lucifer did want to turn back and leave her to her devices but... His parental instinct told him to stay to make sure she doesn't pass out from the cold and get hypothermia or frostbite...

(Y/n) took a deep breath, "father..." She called lowly, hoping he wouldn't hear.

It made Lucifer jump with pure joy that she called him that again, after all these years but remains calm, at least as calm as he can when he hummed in response. Though he cursed himself for not saying anything in the now silent and tense atmosphere.

"You know how it's been... Five years since I last had a talk with you... Right?" He hummed once more, "I've been thinking... I guess I was being a little unfair... Cutting you and dad off like that after raising me all these years..."

"It's... Alright... We understood why you did that and stuff..." he muttered, still a bit overjoyed at how she's now speaking to him like this.

"Still... I think dad deserves an explanation... Especially you... Father..." She mumbled, "you took care of me the most, after all..."

He frowned at the rememberrance of the past, "I... I guess I do..."

"It's just... When you told me to either betray this crew or not come home at all... It deeply hurt me... I thought... I thought you'd understand... But instead you-..." (Y/n) could feel herself start to choke on her own words and tears started to form

"Dear... You know how much I..." He sighed a bit, "I know... It sounded... Harsh, I will take full blame... But I didn't mean it to sound that way, I promise...!"

"But still... You suggested I betray this crew... It..." She sighed shakily, "it stabbed me deeply..."

Lucifer could feel himself weaken...

The strongest demon to ever exist on land getting weak when he sees even just a droplet of his own child's tears, even he couldn't believe it.

"I'm... I'm so sorry... I know that no amount of apologies would ever sustain the words I said in the past... I am willing to take everything you want to inflict on me... As long as you are willing to forgive me, even not now... But... Maybe in the future... I hope... You can forgive me..." He said as he swallowed thickly and kneeled in front of her.

It surprised her that he would stoop this low just for her mere forgiveness. It was shameful, but he didn't care.

He placed all four of his hands flat on the floor and looked at her, "I am sorry... Hurt me if you want, I don't care... Please... Forgive me..." And with that, he cried black tears before having his forehead stuck to the ground as a sincere apology, "I know I was being unfair myself... Putting you in such a choice... I let you join the gang in the first place, I didn't... Protect you from your uncles and aunt... I'm sorry... I couldn't be there for you when you needed me. I am so sorry... Please... Forgive me."

"F-father... Please..." She could feel her eyes start to water even more, "don't do this to me..."

"I know I probably don't deserve your forgiveness, but please... At least give me a hope that we can be like we used to be... Please..." He cried

(Y/n) cried.

Both were inconsolable at this point before (y/n) shook her head and kneeled down in front of him.

"Father, get up... You're shaming yourself"

"No. I don't care... I deserve this shame..." He huffed,

She scoffed in response and held his face in her hands to make him look at her, "please... Get up..." She mumbled before smiling softly despite the tears drying up; "I... I forgive you, papa."

Lucifer couldn't help himself and slowly grin before jumping at her and immediately hugged her really tight with all four of his arms, "oh! You don't know how happy I am...! I am so happy...! I could explode!" He laughed loudly, still hugging her

"Lower your voice down! People are sleeping...!" She laughed, still crying and hugging him back

"I missed you so much... Dear... I am so happy... That you forgive me after all these years..." Lucifer smiled, "oh! Dad should be known of this! Oh Dicey-boo~~~!"

"Shhh! People are sleeping!" She laughed as he apologized again but called Dice in a whisper yell tone.

...

Lucifer went to their bedroom with (y/n) in his arms, still laughing at how fast Lucifer ran from the gazebo outside to their room on the fifth floor.

He closed the door behind him and placed (y/n) on the ground

"What's going on...?" Dice frowned as he came out of the bathroom wearing a robe, only to realize that (y/n) and Lucifer may or may not have reconciled.

"Dad..." (Y/n) called after taking a moment to breathe

Dice could feel his throat tighten into a small sob as he walks up to her slowly, "say that again... Please..."

"Dad..." She smiled at him, small tears pricking her eyes, "dad... I'm... I'm sorry I have-"

(Y/n) was cut off by Dice hugging her really tight.

"Hush up. Now." He said as his arms tighten around her, "I am so happy... I don't care about your apology... I don't care what happened... I'm just... Happy..."

She smiled, and started to sob uncontrollably as Dice did too, but he was more formal.

"You don't know how happy I was to have always read on the paper of your deeds.... Knowing you're alive and well... Your wanted posters indicating you're getting stronger... You... Right here... All safe and sound... All of which... Even without us... I am so happy" Dice sobbed a bit, "I am happy... You're here... With me... With us..."

Lucifer could feel himself get emotional again and hugged them both real tight making them laugh so loud.

The next day, Dice had woken up earlier than the rest to make breakfast, mainly because he's so giddy and excited as well as him being happy and able to make stuff for (y/n) again without her ever judging it.

Or he just woke up really early because Lucifer has a very loud snore.

A few moments later though, Lucifer woke up and started to get ready, though he didn't have any agendas today so he mainly wore a baggy sweatshirt and some pants

"Morning Dicey-boo~" Lucifer cooed as he walked up to Dice and hug him from behind, despite the height difference, Lucifer felt quite comfy like this.

"Seriously? Like- seriously? It's barely 7 am. Doofus." (Y/n) groaned.

She has always despised how these just had like- perfect PDA in public and are really confident about it even though they were the most famous mafia gang leaders.

Law walked in beside her with a chuckle

"Bitter bitch." Lucifer turned to her with a pout

"Says the one who sulked when he first found out about my engagement." She rolled her eyes

Lucifer and (y/n) glared at each other before sticking their tongues out like little children

Dice shook his head with a smile, "children..."

"Seems like you two got along?" Law asked (y/n) as she turned to him

"Yeah..." She sighed softly, "took your advice and uhm... Thanks" she smiled at him as Law smiled back.

"I'm glad you did..."

"Wait, what?! You're here bitching about our PDA then you're right over there having a PDA moment!" Lucifer complained

"At least ours isn't so fucking obvious!" She answered

"Guys, it's barely 7 am. Get a grip" Dice rolled his eyes

"He/she started it!" Lucifer and (y/n) said in unison.

Dice sighed inwardly, 'sometimes I wish they didn't get along so perfectly...' he thought

_______

@jadedrrose ahhhhh I'm almost done I promise!

[marie-swriting]

Find Each Other - Eddie Munson

Superache Masterlist

Stranger Things Masterlist

Summary : You're back to Hawkins after you've spent several months away from your boyfriend Eddie because of University.

Warnings : angst, sad ending, implied sex but nothing explicit, mention of alcoholic parent, maybe some grammatical mistake as English is not my first language, tell me if you see some or if I missed any warning.

Word count : 4.5k

French version

Song inspiration : Astronomy by Conan Gray

You leave the coach and go grab your bag in the baggage compartment. Your belongings in hand, you scan the parking lot, searching for Eddie’s van.

You haven't come home since Winter break and it's now Spring break, not once during your time apart did you have the opportunity to see each other. You have to admit, just the thought of seeing him again makes you nervous. You had never spent that much time apart before. 

Before leaving for New York University, you had some doubt about your relationship ; you thought it would be better to be friends again but he convinced you by saying that distance brings fondness so you agreed to stay with him.

The first weeks, you sincerely thought it’d work out. After all, even if you couldn't see each other as much as you wanted to, you could always make a phone call. Eddie even managed to visit you some weekends before the Winter break, unfortunately, taking the coach is expensive. So you both agreed it was better to stick with the telephone. It worked until the studies decided otherwise.

You haven’t contacted each other for quite some time and now, you can’t deny it anymore, University and the distance are affecting your relationship. However, you have a tiny bit of hope that everything might be okay during your break. Indeed, when you came back for Christmas, your relationship went back to normal after some time. Until you had to leave again - though you don’t want to think about this detail.

You keep looking for Eddie’s van when you hear someone running to you. Before you can do anything, you feel arms wrapping themselves around your body. The smell of cologne makes you understand it’s Eddie. You don’t wait and hold him against you, sighing peacefully to feel his body again. Suddenly, he raises you from the ground and spins you around. You laugh as you watch him being too much, as always. Once he puts you down, he doesn’t waste another second before leaning in and kissing you. You’ve missed his lips more than you imagined. Your lips are slowly moving for a few seconds. As soon as you break the kiss, Eddie tenderly looks at you, a big smile on his face.

“I've wanted to do this since the moment you left.”

“I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’m so glad you’re here.” he says, stroking your cheek. “You must be tired from the ride, unfortunately, we still have some road before being in Hawkins.”

Eddie takes your bag in his left hand and grabs yours with his free hand. You walk to his van and you get in the passenger seat while he puts your bag in the back. Once he joins you, Eddie starts the car and drives in the direction of your hometown. As you leave the parking lot, Eddie turns up his music player and Oh! Darling by The Beatles resonates in the vehicle. With a sudden movement of your head, you stare at him with big eyes.

“Have I finally managed to convert you to The Beatles? You’ve finally bought one of their tapes?”

“Not at all. I wanted to make you happy so I went by your house and grabbed one before coming.” he defends himself but you see right through him.

“I don’t have this tape.”

“Ok, right, I bought it.” Eddie confesses after a second. “But only because I needed something to remind me of you while you were in Uni.”

“Yeah, let’s say that.” you laugh.

“By the way, I did go by your house. Your mom told me she was working tonight so you can stay at mine.”

“Perfect.”

You turn up the volume and start singing the lyrics. Eddie puts his hand on your thigh, happy to physically have you again.

On the way home, you talk about your lives. Normally, you’re up-to-date on each other’s life though during the past few weeks, it has been complicated. Eddie tells you about his last campaign and his last maths’ grade. Whilst you’re listening to him talking, you realise you’ve missed a lot of things. You try to reassure yourself by thinking it’s normal, you only need to find each other again, it’s okay. However, as the trip goes by, the more you feel like you have to get to know Eddie again.

Once you get to Hawkins, you drive through the rich neighbourhood. In spite of yourself, you look at the houses and you can’t help but imagine yourself living in one of them one day. Even if you’re happy to have the roof of your trailer over your head, you wouldn’t mind a house, no matter how small.

“Any news on the neighbourhood?” you question.

“It’s Hawkins, nothing ever happens around here. But sorry to tell you someone stole our home.”

‘Your home’ is a house at the end of the block. The owners never stay long so you’ve always seen on sale. One night, when you were ten, you had decided it would be your home when you’d be grown ups.

“They didn’t!” you exclaim, your hand on your heart.

“They did! A family with a five-year-old kid, a real snotty-nosed kid. Anyway, we still have some hope. The day we’ll finally have the money, they might have moved out. I mean, if we manage to be considered respectable people to live in this respectacle neighbourhood.” Eddie states with a fake snobby voice.

“I think we have more chances to become billionaires.”

“We will have this house. Remember, Corroded Coffin will be a success and you will become a famous actress. We’ll be the it-couple and we’ll be too good for this city. You’ll see.” he affirms with a big smile.

“You right, it will happen, you’re really talented. As for me, well, I think I’m more likely to become a professional waitress than an actress. I can't pass the first audition.” you admit with a sad face.

“I believe in you, you’ll succeed. The perfect part is waiting for you. When you’ll be famous, all these casting directors will regret not seeing your talent.”

“And for you, the people from High School won’t stop saying they were with you, the rockstar Eddie Munson and you’ll be able to give them your best finger while saying they’re dickheads.”

“Oh, I’m totally gonna do that !” Eddie confirms, making you laugh.

You keep talking of your potential future as celebrities until you arrive to the trailer park at the end of the day. Before going to the Munson’s trailer, you go to your place to put your bag in your small bedroom. You don’t take anything, you have everything you need at Eddie’s and if you ever need something, you can just go to the trailer in front of his. 

You spend your night watching movies while talking - you also spend a lot of time making out. You’re happy to be with Eddie after all this time. You still have this uncomfortable feeling that things have changed yet, tonight seems like a good start to a return to normal.

However, you’ll need some time.

Before, you could sleep in an instant as long as you had Eddie’s arms around your waist. Now, you have your eyes wide open while you can’t stop overthinking. Eddie, unlike you, is sleeping like a baby. He shifts in the bed and his arm leaves your body. Normally, he’d realise it and he would try to search for you while he’s asleep but not tonight. He keeps sleeping peacefully, light snores coming out of his mouth. This seems like it’s nothing notwithstanding for you, it’s another sign. Eddie is a touchy person, sleeping or not. You don’t like seeing he got so used to your absence to the point he doesn’t need to feel you against him anymore.

At this thought, you think you’re pathetic. You’re not seriously going to rethink all of your relationship just because he’s not against you when he’s sleeping? You shake your head before getting closer to Eddie’s body and putting your head in his neck. Everything will go back to normal. It has to.

The following days, you find each other a bit more.

While you should be doing your homework, you’re straddling Eddie’s laps as you’re making out, your notebooks long forgotten on the floor. Your hands are getting lost in his hair whilst his are on your waist. You kiss to the point you forget to breathe. You quickly take a breath before Eddie presses his lips against yours. You keep kissing until Eddie’s hands go under your shirt. At his touch, you break the kiss and look at him lovingly. Eddie tries to bring your face closer to his but you stop him.

“We have to work.” you state, making him roll his eyes.

“We have plenty of time to do this. We should enjoy ourselves.” Eddie affirms, kissing your neck.

“Except if we do enjoy ourselves, we won’t get our homework done and I don’t know for you but my essay is long.” you insist, moving Eddie’s head away from your neck where you can see a teasing smile on his face. “No dirty joke!”

“I didn’t say anything!” he defends himself, raising his hands to prove his innocence.

“I know you, Eddie. Let’s do our homework like this so we can leave it behind.”

“But I don’t want to! Besides, the only thing you do is studying, you should take a break.”

“Later. Come on! You won’t be able to graduate High School if you do nothing.” you say, leaving his laps. 

“But I don’t understand this Physics exercise.”

“I can help you with it.” you propose and he doesn’t seem convinced. “The quicker we’ll be over with it, the quicker we’ll get back to where we left off.”

To motivate him a bit more, you peck his lips before handing him his notebook and Physics book. Not without sighing to show his annoyance, Eddie takes them and gets back to his homework. As for you, you reread what you’ve written for your essay. You try to get back to your argumentation yet, your eyes find Eddie. His focused face brings a smile on yours. 

The moment you just shared gives you more hope. Despite the distance, both physical and emotional, you’re still attached to each other. The more you look at Eddie and the less you want to work on your essay. Without a warning, you take the notebook away from Eddie’s legs and kiss him with passion. Eddie doesn’t need to be asked twice to respond to the kiss.

It’s been six days since you came back to Hawkins and your fears have finally left your mind. Eddie and you made up for the lost time and you’re just like you used to be. You had no reason to worry. You’re spending almost all your days together and you’re more than happy.

Today is no different. Eddie comes to get you to go to his Corroded Coffin’s rehearsal. You haven’t listened to him play with his band in months and you can’t wait to hear all the new songs they’ve written. Furthermore, you haven’t seen some members of the band since you got back.

In Gareth’s garage, you’re sitting on a chair - Eddie refuses for you to be sitting on the floor - whilst you listen to them playing. First, they do some covers before playing old songs of theirs that you know by heart. Eddie can’t stop looking at you while he sings, glad to have you next to him.

Eddie starts to play another song and before singing, he tells you it’s a new one. Intrigued, you readjust your position in your chair to be fully focused whilst listening. Eddie starts singing and you instantly realise it’s about you. You don’t need for him to sing more than three lines to understand it. He uses specific elements when he writes about you and you know how to pick them up. 

At first, you’re touched by it. Sure, it’s not the first song he writes for you but you always get emotional when you realise you’ve inspired him. However, the smile on your face disappears once you realise the meaning of the song. He talks about his fear of losing you because of the distance. You have a pinch in your heart when you understand you’re not the only one to have seen it. Your eyes get teary as soon as he mentions the lack of communication. He doesn’t blame you, he just expresses that because of your different routines, you can’t talk to each other as much as you’d like to. However, the song ends on a hopeful note. Eddie affirms that nothing will break you apart, your love is too strong for this. When he finishes singing, you stand up and take him in your arms. Eddie hugs you back before muttering an ‘I love you’ to which you answer with an 'I love you' of your own.

You stay at Gareth’s all day and once the evening comes, you and Eddie go back to his place. You do your usual routine until you’re tired.

However, you can’t sleep. Eddie’s arms are wrapped around your waist whilst you’re staring at the ceiling, thinking back to his song and your relationship.

Your love is still here, it’s a fact, but for how long? When you’re in Hawkins, everything seems simple and when you’re far away, everything is different. It was already hard during Winter break, your relationship had already changed however, with these last months, it’s worse. No matter if you’ve found each other again, there is always this gap between your two. You feel like you’re two worlds apart. And Eddie is aware of this too. You’re frustrated to see that something is not right without understanding how to make things better.

You sigh and set your eyes on Eddie. You notice his curls hide a part of his face. With your hand, you put them away, allowing you to admire him completely. Eddie doesn’t react to your touch, being a heavy sleeper. You attentively stare at his tattoos, including a new one on his right forearm before looking at his torso moving up and down at the rhythm of his breaths. You hope you’ll find sleep by following them, in vain. 

You roll your eyes before getting out of Eddie’s arm and going to the kitchen. You pour yourself a glass of water and stay in the room for a few minutes, lost in your thoughts. As soon as you hear the door opening, you get a grip on yourself. Wayne appears in front of you and you greet him. He’s not surprised to see you at his home, he’s used to it.

“You’re not sleeping?” Wayne questions, getting closer to you.

“I was thirsty.” you explain, putting your glass in the sink.

“Is everything good between you and Eddie?” he asks point blank. “I know distance is not always easy.” Wayne adds without giving you the time to answer. “Eddie is like a lost puppy without you. He misses you a lot, more than he wants to admit. He is always talking about you, even if you have nothing to do with the subject. It’s too much sometimes but that’s the way Eddie loves. He’s a good kid and he deserves someone who sees him like he really is. With you, he feels good, he gives himself fully for everything. Even when it’s for High School. He really wants to graduate and be with you.”

Following Eddie’s uncle’s speech, you can’t help but feel a warmth in your heart. You didn’t know you had that much of an impact on Eddie. Wayne is grateful you’re a part of Eddie’s life though you’re grateful as well. Without Eddie, everything would be more complicated.

“I hope he’ll be able to be with me, it’ll be easier when we’ll both be in New York. I miss him a lot, too.” you confess, getting emotional. “I’m gonna let you rest. Good night.” you finish.

“Good night.”

You go to Eddie’s room, close the door behind you and lay down on the bed. Instinctively, Eddie gets closer to you. You hold him tighter and tenderly kiss his cheek. 

For the first time since you came back, you’re at your own home without Eddie. Your mom finally has some free time so you want to make the best out of it.

Your relationship with your mom has always been peculiar. When you were a kid, she wasn't the perfect mother. She couldn’t keep a job and her love for the booze wasn’t helping either. She was never mean to you, she was just emotionally distant.

Thankfully, two years ago, she understood she couldn’t keep doing this. She was losing you day after day and she hated herself for it. Therefore, she did everything to improve herself, giving up alcohol to be the mother you deserve. There are still some hard times, but it’s not like when you were younger. 

Your mom is grateful for Eddie. She knows he was there for you when she couldn’t. She has always held him close to her heart, despite the rumours. For her, Eddie is the only one who is loving her daughter like she deserves, that’s what matters.

Your mom and you are sitting on the couch watching a comedy you’ve seen countless times. You could quote it in your sleep. Sometimes, you talk about random topics during the movie, your mom is always happy to learn more about your new life.

You’re laughing out loud at one of your favourite scenes when someone knocks on the door. Your mom pauses the movie so you can see who it is. You find Eddie who you didn’t see for the past two days.

“Hey, I wanted to know if you’d like to come with me at Starcourt. I need some stuff. We can grab ice cream too.”

“Sorry Eddie, I’m with my mom today.” you inform, scratching your neck. “She finally has some days off.”

“I understand. Can we see each other tomorrow?” he asks hopefully.

“I would love to but we already have something planned.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Eddies promises you, taking your hands. “You have to spend time with your mom, too, I get it. Call me when you’re free. Say hello to her for me, have fun.”

Eddie pecks your lips before leaving. You close the door and sigh. Your mom watches you from the couch, confused. You go back to the couch without saying a word, a preoccupied expression on your face.

“You could have gone with him, you know.” your mom says, “And tomorrow, we have nothing special planned. Eddie could have joined us anyway.”

“I want to spend some time with you alone, that’s all.”

“What’s the matter, Y/N?” she asks, knowing you’re lying. “I can see something is bothering you.”

“It’s nothing. You can put the movie back on.” you affirm, avoiding her gaze.

Your mom doesn’t touch the remote and puts her right hand on your face, catching your attention.

“Look, I know I wasn’t always there for you but I am now. You can talk to me. Has something happened between you and Eddie?”

“Not really. I’m just a bit lost.” you confessed with a low voice. “I… I don’t know if our relationship is going to last.”

Upon these words, you break down in tears. Quickly, your mom holds you in her arms. She tries to calm you down while you explain the situation to her. You talk about the distance, the feeling of being face to face with a stranger you once knew, the feeling of slowly losing Eddie, despite your remaining feelings. She attentively listens to you, giving you the opportunity to get this off your chest. It’s the first time you confess about your relationship with Eddie since you left for University.

By saying everything you have in mind, you realise you’re suffering more than you thought. You wish everything could go back to normal, when everything was easier, when you were still in High School with Eddie. You wish you had stayed with him instead of leaving.

After you told her everything, you keep crying while your mother soothes you. Once your tears have slowed down, your mom moves your head away from her neck to look you in the eyes.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry it’s so complicated between you two.”

“I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to lose him.” you cry.

“I think you already have.”

“But I love him.”

“Sometimes, it’s not enough.” she states, making you tear up again. “You said it yourself, when you’re not together, you’re like strangers.”

“But once he’ll graduate, everything will be easier. He’ll be with me again.” you argue, wiping your cheeks.

“It’ll be too late by then. During Christmas, you already felt like you were losing him and now, it’s worse so just imagine how it’ll be in the following months. Sometimes, you can love a person a lot and it’s not meant to last and it’s okay. It doesn’t mean it was meaningless.”

“He's been my best friend since we’re kids. We can’t lose everything because of Uni. We just can’t.”

“You might find each other again one day. You’re still young, nothing is set in stone yet. Besides, you’re growing up. Maybe you need to grow up away from him and him away from you so you can love each other better in the future.” she tries to reassure you in vain.

“You think I should break up with him?”

“You know I love Eddie and I see how you were happy with him but you’re not anymore. You’re unhappy and along distance relationship is not working. I think you should stop before it ends badly.” your mom recommends you. 

“I don’t want to break his heart.” you mutter.

“It will eventually.”

Tears start running down your cheeks again as you realise your mom is right. You don’t want to, unfortunately she is. You can bury your head in the sand all you want, the fact is your relationship with Eddie isn’t working anymore. You throw yourself in your mom’s arms again, needing her comfort whilst you show all your sadness.

You avoid Eddie until the day before you have to leave. You give him more or less believable excuses and everytime you hear his disappointment in his voice, you feel bad. Since your conversation with your mom, you accepted you needed to break up with him but you don’t know how to do it so you do nothing, despite your mom’s encouragement. 

However, you can’t wait any longer. You have to do it tonight. You can’t leave him thinking your relationship is working when it’s been over for some time. So, you take your courage in both hands and go to Eddie’s trailer. You take a deep breath before knocking on the door. As soon as Eddie sees you, he’s surprised at first, thinking you’d be packing.

“Hey, can we talk?”

“Sure,” he says, stepping aside. “What are you doing here?” Eddie questions, closing the door behind you.

“I wanted to talk.”

“About what?”

“About us. We have to talk about us.”

“You want to break up, don’t you?” he asks, making you frown as you realise he saw right through you. “Don’t act surprised. I’ve noticed how you’ve been ignoring me the past few days. So, why? Did I do something wrong? Did you understand I’m not good enough for you?”

“No, it’s not that. You did nothing wrong. You’re perfect.” you affirm, avoiding his gaze.

“But?”

“But, it’s not working anymore between us.”

“What do you mean? We love each other.” Eddie states before doubting. “We love each other, right?”

“I love you, yes but it’s not enough anymore. Eddie, we’ve been growing apart the past few months. It’s not like it used to be before.” you confess and and you see the panic in his eyes.

“If it’s because we don't see each other, we can change that. I’ve been saving some money so I can see you. Maybe not every weekend though, at least every other weekend.”

“You won’t use your savings for me.”

“If it means still being with you, I will.”

“You need to save it for your future.”

“But I want a future with you in it.” he says with a determined voice. “We have to realise our dreams together, buy our house... Live together.”

“I wish we could do all of that, too. But it’s too late.” you contradict, holding back your tears.

“There must be a solution. We can save our relationship.”

“We have to stop, Eddie. I’m sorry.”

Upon hearing your words, Eddie looks down, not wanting you to see the pain in his eyes yet you saw it. Your heart tightens in your chest, imagining how he must feel. Eddie stays quiet for a few seconds, taking in your words.

“So, you’re gonna give everything up? After everything we’ve been through, you’re gonna throw everything away because we’re struggling to overcome this?” he retorts, frustrated and with teary eyes.

“It’s no use to insist! Stop trying to find a solution when there is none. We tried and it’s not working. In December, it was already barely working and now it’s worse so we have to stop this mess.” you snap before speaking with a softer tone, “Eddie, you’ll always be important for me. You’re the one with whom I shared everything with, the one I get along the best with. We had everything for this to work but it’s not the case anymore. We have to stop. We should have stopped before I left. I’m sorry.” you whisper, putting your hands on his cheeks. “I never wanted to hurt but if we keep trying, it’d be worse. I know, deep down, you know it’s the right thing to do.”

“I just don’t want to lose you.” he confesses, starting to cry.

“Me neither.” you say before hugging him.

You stay in each other’s arms for a moment whilst your tears are running down your cheeks. Although you mentally prepared yourself for this, the pain is still unbearable. You never thought you’d have to break up with Eddie.

You hate yourself for his broken heart. His broken gaze when you told him you had to stop will forever be engraved in your mind. You try to reassure yourself by thinking you did the right thing by ending your relationship - Eddie would have never done it. However, this thought doesn’t make you feel better. You wish things were different.

Superache Masterlist

Stranger Things Masterlist

[starrynight-edits]

✨️ A RETURN ✨️

Hey! Its Wolf! Its been several months since we last spoke and ive decided that i want to restart up this blog! Requests are open once again! However under new circumstances!

During this haitus it has come to my attention that during winter i lose alot of my motivation to run one of these blogs. I get overwhelmed very easily during the winter and early spring months and often just cant complete requests because i dont find as much joy in it as i do during summer and fall. Because of this im now going to open this blog for summer and fall respectively with the new and improved expectation that i will be taking winter haituses regularly. Hopefully this will solve my never ending disappointment at inevitably having to remake every summer when i realize i didnt want to get rid of my old blog.

Im still going to be taking it a little slow so i dont overwork myself too early on so the Pesterquest Sprite limit is now at 3 requests at a time. This is because of two reasons, one, it can be very exhausting to do so many detailed requests too frequently, especially for free and two, i also enjoy doing many different kinds of edits and requests that get very sideswept because pesterquest edits are seen as my main thing. I want to branch out a little bit even if i dont get to many requests that arent pesterquest edits i would still like to have less so i have more time to make other edits on my own time if i wanted to.

To summarize there will be quite a few changes to how i do things around here but im hoping that all in all the changes will help me make more art for yall in the long run! I hope all of you have a wonderful day and thank you for taking the time to listen.

(Also I will probably replace the beginning of the pinned post here soon with a summarized version of this.)

[yarrystyleeza]

The North Star (T.T)

Tristan Thorn x female! Reader

No warnings, absolute fluff, maybe a little bit of angst? But happy ending. <3

Summary: you and your childhood best friend Tristan had to split ways in cause of your discordant lives, but you somehow try to find time for you to be together again, doing the thing you've always loved since you were children, stargazing.

Word count: almost 3k!

Writer's note: I wrote this in less than 24 hours so forgive me if anything dropped off the plot or doesn't make sense. But I wrote it with all my love, I hope you enjoy it. <3

Goddamn it, you've always hated waking up early, mornings are always exhausting, specially after spending the night stargazing from your window, looking at the beautifully dotted sky, the wide dark canvas that was decorated with the scattered sparkly little white jewels. They've always caught your attention, they made you lose conversations sometimes because you paid more attention to them than the person talking to you, and sometimes you'd walk into some tree or a wall for keeping eye contact with them. You'd miss them throughout the morning when the sun is covering their beautiful gaze against your curious irises, something about them was so magical, enchanting, keeping you thirsty for more, and you loved how they kept you wanting them at your sight.

That's why you hated mornings, besides the daily chores you'd do around the house, they make your hatred towards mornings becomes more of a rivals'... Well, except the mornings where your mother decides to send you to the market to grab some house needs, this would always make you jump out of your bed with excitement.

It's pretty much the same this morning, the sunbeams are blinding you through the window glass, playfully caressing your lids, you shift in your bed, trying to hide your face from the morning sight on you. Your mother chirps from behind the door, "dear, I need some groceries for this evening's treat, you need to be up!" you scramble out of your sheets and run to wash your face, heart fluttering like the wings of a young butterfly. Soon you're in your pretty floral day dress and fixing your locks in front of your mirror, you add the little star-shaped ornament to your gathered bangs, you put your leather shoes on and spring out of the room, taking your umbrella off the hanger on your way out of the house.

The summer breeze fills your lungs as soon as you open the wooden front door, you realize how pretty the weather is today, well, mornings aren't always that bad after all, you knew that fact deep down in you. You make your way down the hill to town of Wall, where you had lived your entire life till now, a small town with few people, cozy on winters, freshening on summers, you never thought of leaving it, you loved living here anyway, you knew you'd never find a place more peaceful than this.

Or, maybe it's because there was someone here that's always on your mind, the young man who works at the very shop you always shop from. That's why you've always loved the shopping mornings, you get a chance to meet your crush, and talk to him a bit about your shared habit, stargazing.

Your journey to the center of the town doesn't take much of power nor time, but you make it to the shop with raspy breaths, you support your body on the brick wall of the shop to take your breath, and the moment you felt your heart beating calmer, you turn immediately to get inside. Maybe the journey itself wasn't tiring, but the excitement that overwhelmed you was the reason for this unstable heartbeat for sure.

You stand in a not quite long queue waiting for your turn, when your eyes meet his, he smiles at widest and waves at you. It's been a week since you last saw him, he told you about the north star he's been gazing at for a while, and you told him you were gazing at it on the exact same night, too.

The line moves a little, and in less than an hour, you're finally facing him, "what a good morning, y/n! How are you today?" he cheers the moment you step in front of him, he can't help the loud blush on his stretched cheeks, "I'm good, you?" you try to look more chill and calm, "well I'm doing great that I got to see you today, is there anything I could bring you?" but instead, your face turns absolutely red at his answer, his smile is brighter than the summer sun, his eyes are sparkling with unexplainable joy. "I-- I have this list..." you search through your pockets, you find the paper and hand it over to him, he knits his eyebrows, his honey brown eyes are popping out, "well, that's a long list, sure you have someone with you to carry all this stuff?" your pouted lips answer his question, shake your head, "but I... I think I can make it on my own--" you argue, "wait a second," he cuts you off and runs to the back of the store

He's back in a minute, and he's gathering all the goods you ordered from around the shop in an act that's cannot be described in less than a haste. You're surprised by how fast he looked around the place, picking bottles and herb jars off the shelves, flour and potato sacks, chocolate, cheese, and eggs are quickly packed, he seems excited, to your surprise, but you keep watching him, with amusement.

He brings the groceries on the counter, "did I forget anything?" he's panting, looking back at the list in his hand, you shake your head with a wide smile, "no, no, not at all, you did amazing, Tristan!" you couldn't stop the redness from growing on your cheeks, and the wide grin that always forms on your sight in his presence, he exhales a shaky laugh. He passes out of the counter and picks the sackcloth bags and bolsters them to his chest, "Tristan, what are you doing?" you're surprised again, "I'm walking you home, you thought I was gonna let you take them there yourself?" he passes you, and you had no other choice but to grab the last bag and the end of your dress and try to keep up with his pace.

You and Tristan have been best friends since you were children, but as both of you grew up, your lives kind of got separated, his shifts at the store and your house chores and studies weren't leaving space for you to be together, and all the time that was available for both of you was the time you meet him at the store. Result of this, you don't get to stargaze together anymore.

"I've been reading this book about the North Star, they call her Polaris sometimes," he starts as he slows his pace a little to align with you, he parts his lips as if he's about to speak, but smiles, "she's always there at night, and she's always shimmery and you can find her from anywhere in the world," he catches a glimpse of you before continuing, "but I think that North stars shouldn't always be in the sky among other stars," he has his eyes aimed forward, "sometimes it can refer to a person, someone who is an actual guide, or someone who is believing in you," you couldn't help but think of him.

Tristan has always been supportive to you, never turned you down, always encouraging you to do the things you love. You wanted to be an astronomer, and you are halfway to achieving your dream because of him, aside from you studying hard for this dream, he usually brings you books about astronomy on the days you meet him at the shop, he'd take rests just to read with you, even though he gets his little salary deducted, and you'd tell him that he needs this money, but still he'd stay there with you just to enjoy the couple minutes of you reading together.

Eventually you make it home, you both walk up the hill and you knock on your door, your mother greets you and takes the groceries and pays him after thanking him for his genuineness. "y/n?" you were entering your house and about to close the door, you stop and turn to look at him, "yes, Tristan?" you can feel your heart jumping against your ribs as you think about how soft his voice was when he called your name, "we haven't went stargazing together in like-- months, maybe years, can we-- do it tonight? I-- I need to show you something I discovered... It's a-- um... " his voice is shaky a little, he's nervous, and the little hairs of his bangs are sticking to his forehead of all the summer sweat, "yeah, yeah! Tonight, of course," you too are excited, you chuckle, "picnic, tonight?" you ask, "yeah! Sounds-- sounds great, yeah, picnic, yes! See you then!" he nods with a couple giggles and turns away. He looks back at you for a last time before he walks back down the hill.

You continue on with your day, preparing for the treat your family hosted, and it was a busy, stressful time, but thinking about ending your day with Tristan, doing the very thing you two love the most since you were kids — together again, it gave you a sudden relief that you will get your own treat after all.

But still, you couldn't help but think about how nervous Tristan was this morning, he was garbled, tripping over his own words. You know he cares about you, but you're his friend, you know this, even if you feel so much about him, even if you actually love all of him and wish to the stars every night that he finally becomes yours and forget about that Victoria who never cared for him as much as you do, that you're willing to give him your heart the moment he asks you for it, but in the end, you knew that he's your friend, and might never be more than this.

This saddens you, but either way, you would be happy for him being happy, because you love him, and the circle spins around in your head.

The night falls faster than you think, and you are done cleaning the dining table after the guests have left. You beg your parents to let you go with him like you two used to, and after minutes of unstoppable begs, they let you go with Tristan. You've already made his favorite strawberry and cream cheese pie, you put it in the basket along with the other sweet treats you spent your morning preparing for him, imagining his wide smile and rosy cheeks and his startled talk, appreciating how much effort you put into this.

Your mind wanders a little further, imagining how he would fondly caress your cheek, how he would tuck a stray strand of your hair behind your ear, how he would brush your lip with his thumb and, how sweet must his cherry colored lips would be, as he would join them with yours.

You exhale your thoughts out of your lungs, knowing how too far they are from reality, you pick up your basket and head outside, and walk all the way down the hill towards the wall, since it was your favorite spot to stargaze from.

You find Tristan sitting on the plaid picnic blanket, and in front of him was a dinner he prepared for the two of you, your favorite baked stuffed potatoes, and a bottle of peach champagne, you smile and rush at him. The hug was... Different, so different from how it used to feel, you've always hugged him as a friend of yours, your best friend, but how you feel now is so different, it ignites something in you, unlocks a new path of feelings, the no longer kids, the path of the three words and 'I want to spend the rest of my life with you'.

You both sit down and spread the goods over the sheet, and as you expected to be, Tristan is over the moon, he's appreciating each cookie you crafted individually, and how you beautifully braided the dough on the top of the strawberry and cream cheese pie, and how amazing the brownies you baked are. You are overwhelmed with his sweetness, and you can't help but replay the thing you thought of before you came here.

You two start your dinner, and finish with some pie and biscuits. He pours you a glass of champagne as you lift your head up to talk to your befriended stars, asking them for a sign, a guidance, something that will tell you if you should continue or back away and maybe end all this pain in your chest for good.

"y/n, your glass," it's a little tilted between your fingers, almost spilling the drink out of it, "you're looking at her, right?" he nudges you softly with his shoulder, you sigh a little chuckle as you stare at him, "Polaris, she's beautiful, I've always thought I could live there one day, among them," you look up again, holding the glass in your right hand while supporting your body to the left one.

You feel a warm caress on the skin of your left hand, you look down to see Tristan walking the buds of his fingertips over the back of your hand in a motion so delicate, you look up at him to find his eyes fixed on yours, in a new way you never witnessed before, a way which sparks something in you.

"Tristan?" you try, but his innocent deer eyes were locked with yours. "y/n, I..." he pauses again, lips parted, he looks at your mouth, your hand, then back into your eyes. By this moment, you were fully aware that whatever you've been fighting back might be true. You put your glass down on the rug, tilt your body to fully face him, his breath is shaky, "Tristan, is there anything wrong?" is the only thing you could say.

"y/n, that night I told you that I was gazing at the north star, it wasn't any north star, it was my own north star, it was you, y/n. You are my North Star." he holds your hands close to his chest as he gazes your eyes with his vast brownies and doe-like lashes, "I couldn't find better words, I'm lost... I'm lost within you... You are my star, I don't think I need to stare at the skies to seek the sparkling that I only find in your eyes," Tristan has always been troubled with how to explain his feelings, but at this very moment, he is confidently staring into your curious eyes, and saying these beautifully knitted words, that created a loving sweater for sure it warms your soul.

Your mouth drops open, maybe surprised of how fast your prayers were answered, or maybe because this was even more charming than you thought things would be, but you were amazed, no doubt. The edges of your lips are slightly stretched, but you were too amazed to express a whole smile. "I'm sorry, y/n, I know I shouldn't 've said tha--" it was your time to take the move, you silence him wrapping your lips around his, in a casual fashion, your eyelids fall closed and, so does he.

This was better than you had pictured, the kiss was tender like his innocent heart, his lips were soft, sweeter than cherries, citrus stinging the tip of your tongue as you taste the peach champagne on his lovesome lips, the toasted nuttiness are swirling along with the sweetness of the strawberry and cream, feeling your heart swelling with a new feeling that you never thought of before, is this what they call love? You're sure it is now.

You part away from him, hiding your face behind your palms, "damn me, I'm so sorry, Tristan, I thought--" he cups your cheeks in his hands, silencing you by simply looking into your eyes. "y/n, my beautiful star, I love you... And I want you to be my North Star forever, my very own Polaris, will you be my North Star?" his shiny honey irises stared back at yours, despite the dim lights you were soaked in, you could see the reflection of yourself in his vast eyes, and if you look closer enough, you might see the stars you never thought of.

You softly nod, and a smile stretches across both of your faces, "yes, I will, I love you, Tristan," you finally say it, and that's when his lips meet yours, and you both mesh in the adoration that was kept within, slow, little, sweet, tinder kisses that might have been sent from heavens and straight onto your lips.

You part once again but this time, both of you are sure of what you're feeling. "I can't believe I just kissed the most beautiful girl," he hides his face as it reddened, you couldn't help but chuckle at how adorable he is, you caress his cheek, resting his chin in your forehand, "as if you're not the most beautiful boy in this world," he chuckles.

"can I ask you a question?" he asks, after lying you under the blanket of the sparkling sky and peppering your cheeks with all the lovely kisses he kept all those years — for long minutes you lost the count of, "sure?" you snuggle in his arms to the warmth of his chiffon shirt, "we're not 'friends' anymore, right?" you shift your head and look at him with knitted eyebrows, "just making sure." he chuckles.

Taglist: @mindidjarin @acharliecoxedfan @v4leoftears @itwasthereaminuteago @munsonownsmyass

Comment "💖" if you like to be added in my taglist.

I hope you all enjoyed it, if you did, please like and reblog it would mean a lot to me <3

I hope you all have a great day! <3

[starryserenade]

Mickey and Minnie: Firebird

Description: A short mice drabble based on a concept @thebigpalooka and I had discussed. She was largely responsible for the second set of dialogue after their meeting...and it broke my heart in the best way, so of course I had to use it here.

Setting is a Firebird sort of situation, inspired by both the ballet and the Fantasia segment, and whatever else we wanted to throw in. Minnie is the Firebird--the protector of the forest--and Mickey is a heroic prince who saved her once upon a time. This bit here occurs near the end of the story we'd set up <3

AO3

~~~~

He saw her in every precious gleam of nature. In the fiery sunsets of summer, the colors of autumn, the chill of winter, the rosebuds of spring. Her touch, her breath of beauty and passion lay upon it all. A kiss, gentle and sweet. Sometimes, he liked to imagine it was for him–when the wind would tousle his fur and leave him laughing, clinging to his cloak, or a star would streak across the sky and leave a trail so bright he was sure it was her weaving pathways he might one day be able to follow. 

It didn’t dull the ache, though, when such signs departed from view and he was left to return to his chambers alone. He left the window open each night, so that dreams of her might be carried along with the breeze. And he did dream of her, almost every time he closed his eyes. Sometimes those dreams were warm and loving, and she’d be there before him again, as radiant as ever, smiling and holding out her arms so he might sweep her away. Other nights he’d watch her as she left him, as he had all that time ago–when the color had returned to her body and the light to her eyes, blossoming as though she herself had been a flower all along. Mickey had carried her then, as she’d asked him to, and he had never been able to forget the breath she’d taken after those first few steps, when she’d seen the place where her tears had fallen. Where life was beginning to return to the scorched earth. 

Some days he regretted not having said a word. But he’d seen her whole spirit return to her then, and when she’d lifted her hands to the sky she had been filled with such vigor and strength, he knew he could never have held her back. Not even to say goodbye. 

He turned his hand over, recalling the feeling as she’d leapt from his fingertips with a step lighter than any bird could have managed. She had seemed an angel then, and that was his last memory of her. Of a girl like a faerie, rising into the clouds, showering all the earth with life and color. 

There had been a part of him…well, far more than a part of him...that had hoped she might have returned. That they might have… Ah, it was pointless to dream of those things. She was an ethereal being. She was the essence of hope and nature and rebirth itself, a creature of magic with a wild and fiery spirit that was never meant to be tamed. 

And…Mickey loved her. He always would, and he knew he’d never be able to claim otherwise, not now. Not having seen her smile, or felt her touch, or seen the kindness and fear in her eyes. Though he hoped the fear was gone now, as it had been when she left him. That was all he could ever wish for, that wherever she was, she was free, and she was happy. 

But he never did stop looking, with those cheerful eyes of his that seemed always touched with sadness. He was looking now, as he brought that hand to his lips and drew in a shaky breath, leaning out over the balcony. His crown and robes had long since been abandoned, tossed haphazardly on the bed with the setting of the sun. He’d put them away later, but for now he wanted to watch. It was a special night, after all, with the light of the full moon already clipped by shadow. Just like it had been on the night he’d first seen her, so very long ago.

He stretched out his arms, letting out a little squeak, and blinked sleepily, with no intention of retiring anytime soon. The night was cool, and stars twinkled brightly, and the forest felt like it was calling to him again, stretching out past the fields that flanked the castle. Mickey grinned. 

He left a note for Donald, just in case, though he doubted his friend would wonder where he’d gone. If you were close to Mickey, you knew he loved the forest. Knew that if he wasn’t here when you called, he was out among the rustling leaves and the river, traipsing through underbrush looking for something he never seemed able to find. But it brought him joy, and he’d always return with a bit more life in his eyes, so no one said a thing…though his closest friends could always see the longing in his gaze. It never did stop growing. 

His horse whinnied as he urged it onward, that wild feeling settling in his chest as those hooves trotted over the drawbridge, then burst into a gallop the moment they touched the grass.  He’d chosen a plain brown cloak, and it fluttered behind him now, catching the wind in dramatic fashion. Mickey hollered, cherishing these moments of freedom. They came so rarely now, with all there was to do as king. But this…it was like things used to be. Almost.

The forest grew nearer, dusted with moonlight that graced the autumn leaves. He could almost hear them now, as the wind picked up and swept through the branches, and he watched the trees with growing anticipation. His heart swelled. So many memories were held within their grasp, under their canopy. Even the border of the forest, where the fields met with a wilder expanse, held an essence of–

He blinked, as a flurry of leaves were tossed into the air and fluttered about, just outside the forest. They glittered and for a moment, just a moment, he could have sworn the moonlight that passed through them had settled on a familiar form.  

The world froze, and Mickey held his breath, his eyes growing wide. He hardly dared to believe it, and yet…

Hope is terribly convincing. 

When they settled on the ground, the form was gone. But Mickey didn’t care. It was exactly how it had happened before, exactly how he’d seen her that very first time. A very wild look came into his eyes and he cried out, urging his steed to go even faster than it was before. Years of pent up loneliness and heartache fueled him now, filled him with a desperation beyond compare. 

The moment his steed reared up as they reached the trees, Mickey leapt off and hit the ground running, stumbling over himself and gathering his footing just in time to keep pace. He could see a light blazing ahead, gleaming, darting from place to place and growing smaller with every moment that passed. He raced after it with all he had. Branches and thorns tore at his clothing, ripped through his tunic and bloodied his skin, but he hardly felt it.  He could only think of her, of any faint possibility that he might see her one last time, might even get to hold her in his arms.

The more he ran, the more his lungs burned and his vision blurred through the tears that lingered in his eyes. He needed her. He needed her. He needed her.  

He burst into a clearing flooded with the last threads of moonlight, and all at once, that fiery light vanished. Mickey stopped, gasping for air, his eyes darting wildly across every corner, to every branch and shadow.  His chest was heaving, his whole outfit tattered, and his fur matted with dirt and blood. Those breaths faltered then, hitched in his throat, left him trembling. 

He’d been so certain. So sure…so…

Foolish.

His legs gave out from under him, as he glanced at his surroundings. It was his memories that had led him here, he realized with a sharp jab of pain in his chest. The ground still held a faint layer of ash and soot, and the trees nearby were blackened by some past flame–a fire he remembered all too well. 

Right at the center of it all stood the reminder of what had happened here. A beautiful tree in everlasting bloom stood swaying in the gentle breeze of night. Its petals seemed to radiate with a glow of their own as the moonlight graced their surface. It was lovely. Enchanting. 

Mickey dug his fingers into the dirt at the sight of it all.

Up until now, he’d thought himself perfectly fine. Or something like it. Thought he’d been strong enough to move on without her here, or at least able to manage. And maybe, deep inside, he was. But in this moment, sitting face to face with evidence of their farewell, he felt for certain he’d been wrong. That loneliness and longing and heartache came crashing in all at once and though he didn’t cry–didn’t have the strength to–he drew in a shaky breath and buried his face in his hands.

“I miss you so much…” 

He sat like that for a while, shuddering with emotion, unable and unwilling to move, or even lift his head. The moonlight grew fainter, shadowed, and tinged with a fiery red that he didn’t see. But the whole forest thrummed in its wake, those autumn colors sparking to life like tongues of flame. And the tree before him–-those milky-white petals–-began to stir with the wind. 

It began gently, like a whisper, then began to grow into something greater. Soon, the blossoms were swept up in the whirlwind, now dyed with the same crimson that had flooded the rest of the forest–only brighter. As the wind rose and the sound grew and those petals released a blazing burst of light, Mickey finally lifted his eyes.

Before them, untouched by the howling wind, fluttered a single scarlet feather. Mickey’s lips parted breathlessly, and he stretched out his hand.

In the moment it graced his skin, the cyclone of petals blazed so bright that Mickey cried out and had to lift his hand to shield his eyes. But through the gaps in his fingers, he watched as he always had, though now there was something else in his stare. Tentative, cautious hope, and an ever-growing sense of disbelief.

The petals were no longer petals, but real tongues of fire. Those snaking flames came together like wings, formed the shape of a grand bird in their midst. It stretched above the mass of fire, arching over the tree with great, roaring feathers as it lifted its neck, craned its beak towards the sky. It beat its wings once, then lowered its gaze towards Mickey.

Their eyes met, and in the next second, the flames gathered again, spiraled upwards until the bird was gone. Mickey reached out, utterly terrified the flames would vanish entirely, and he’d be left alone all over again.

But as they shrank, they dimmed, and took shape, and ribboned around themselves. And when they had settled, they released a final flare of bright light.

Mickey drew in a breath. 

She was there, in a shower of sparks and lingering embers. Her body was wrapped in those ribbons of fire, only now pieces of them returned to their flowery state, formed a glittering bodice, even as the rest of the flames wound about her hips and fell to the ground, trailing behind her in beautiful ribbons of golden light. Her arms were arched over her head, as the Firebird’s wings had been only moments ago, and a curtain of sparks fell down from them like magic. As the wind died down, she swayed lightly, and brought her hands down, drawing in a shuddering breath as her eyes fluttered open. 

They landed on Mickey, and filled with tears.

Her lips formed his name, though no sound emerged. Before the last lingering petals had even fallen to the earth, Mickey had leapt up and stretched out his arms and she was there, flinging herself into them, wrapping her arms around him as he gathered her up and buried his face in her neck, nestling into her hair with shallow, shuddering breaths. She smelled like autumn–like every lovely part about it that had ever reminded him of her. Like crisp leaves and apples, all tinged with the lingering scent of fire–warm and full of comfort.

He squeezed her tighter, and she whimpered, nuzzling into him. Mickey was overcome. He dropped again to the ground, brought her in closer, and rocked her back and forth in his arms as she clung to him, and he to her, terrified that if he let his grip on her falter for even a moment, she would vanish again and be lost to him forever. 

“Oh, Mickey…” she gasped through tears at last, her face still buried in his chest. “I waited for you. I never stopped waiting. I missed you so, so much. And I know you couldn’t see me, but I just kept trying to tell you, trying to tell you how sorry I was that I had to leave and I–”

“Shh,” he hushed her then, and nuzzled against her cheek. “Ya came back…” he murmured, his voice breaking. “Ya came back to me…”

Minnie was silent for a moment, just drew in a shaky breath and clung to him, utterly helpless. Mickey drew away for only a moment, catching the look in her eyes. Then a faint gleam of fire sparked in his own, and he leaned down into her, slowly, gently, caressing her collar with his fingers before leaving a kiss where his hand had been. She shuddered, and he traveled up her neck, endlessly soft as his lips pressed against her skin. When they reached her mouth, he hovered there, and opened his eyes to look at her. There was love in that stare, desperate and pleading. It was Minnie who satisfied his unspoken request, leaned in and met his parted lips with her own. 

She flared, glowed, fire again swirling about her. Only this time, it leapt to Mickey too, though he felt nothing but the warmth of her mouth, and her heart beating against him. He hardly noticed how he himself glowed alongside her now, was caught up in the deep, pulsing magic that radiated from them both as they sat locked together, wholly unwilling to let go. 

When they parted, breathless and flushed, they leaned their heads against each other, nuzzled their noses as close as they could. Mickey was trembling even more than Minnie, and for once, she thought she saw tears falling from his eyes.

“How…” he breathed, and swallowed, as if he could hardly bring himself to ask. “How long can y’stay this time?”

Mickey couldn’t look at her, his heart pounding against his ribs as he waited for her answer. Would it be weeks, days…minutes? This gift was already more than he could have ever hoped for, ever asked of her. She’d come back to say goodbye…but…oh, he would cling to her as long as he could.

He felt her flinch and thought that confirmed his worst suspicions. She’d be gone soon, swept up in the wind to fulfill her role. To return to her life of freedom. It was a wonderful thing, he told himself, and yet he braced himself, trying not to think about what it would be like to journey back to the castle without her in his arms.

“Mickey…” she murmured, and seemed to shiver. “How..how long would you want me to stay…if…if you could choose?”

He tried not to laugh, but he did. It was a sad sound, choked and garbled with tears.  The answer was obvious, surely, though he almost felt guilty saying it out loud. If she had but minutes to give, wouldn’t it be cruel to suggest he wanted anything more? Wouldn’t it be selfish?

But she looked up at him with those beautiful brown eyes–as deep and dark as the tallest redwood tree– and he knew he couldn’t lie to her. 

“Awe, Minnie,” he whimpered, and ran his hands through her hair, before burying his face in it once again, knowing he was wetting it with his tears. “I’d stay with ya forever if I could…I wish more than anythin’ you could stay…”

Minnie let out a tiny gasp, and then sniffed. Then she stroked the fur on his neck, as tenderly as she could manage. “Then…I will,” she breathed, a little break making its way into her voice too now. “I’ll stay with you, Mickey. I’ll stay with you, now and…and forever!”

It took Mickey a moment to hear her, having been so sure he was preparing to say goodbye. But when her words finally registered, he froze, and then drew in a deep, gasping breath, and pulled back to look at her. Tears were streaming down her face, but Mickey’s ceased suddenly, a final droplet lingering in the corner of his eye as his whole face filled with disbelief.

“Ya…ya will…I mean, forever?? Min, are you…can you…is that…”

She was nodding, just nodding over and over again, and taking in his growing happiness with every moment. His lips began to curl, a light filled his eyes, and before she knew it, he had pounced on her, rolling her over on top of him and beaming up at her with sheer love and relief. Minnie laughed endlessly, her giggles scattered with tears, but they were happy now. So, so happy, like nothing she’d ever felt in her whole life. 

“Aw, Minnie,” he breathed, still smiling, and lifted his fingers to her cheek, wiping away some of those tears with the back of his hand, then pressing his palm against her skin. He’d been about to say…something. But before he could finish, Minnie leaned in and had stifled his words once again, taking in the taste of his lips with every trembling moment.

When she pulled away, his eyes were clouded with bliss, but he licked his lips and managed to finish anyway, knowing even then that he had only seconds to speak. But it wasn’t for a farewell…it was for love, and that was all that mattered now. 

That’s all he needed to say. 

“Minnie…” She leaned in, lips hovering just a breath above his mouth, ready to meet him again the moment he’d finished.

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

The moon shone down on them both and flowers sprouted where they lay, unfolded their blossoms across the whole of the forest. Minnie wondered if Mickey knew that this was his doing, that those simple words sparked such life in her soul. Prompted such gentle, blissful magic.

She laughed softly, and smiled. If he didn’t know, she would show him now. Would imprint her gratitude on every part of his being. And if he still needed convincing, then she’d do it all over again.

They had forever after all.

[shi-daisy]

Future Plans

Day 2! I'll be honest this entry is a bit short, cuz I was seriously stumped but I hope you like seeing Tammy in his soldier days. Hope you like!

@tamlinweek

Tamlin Week 2024- Day 2- Warrior/Poet

Future Plans

The bonfire burned brightly as they gathered around it and ate some rations before sleeping, Tamlin was about to fall over if Amdras hadn't wacked him in the back of the head.

"Eat before you pass out, princey!"

"Jerk."

"Leave Tamlin alone, Andy!" Rosencratz said as he took a sip of wine. "He saved our asses today!"

"Yeah! Just for bothering him it's your turn to talk!" Clavel told him.

The brunette twins and the rest of the squad didn't give up so he shrugged. "Fine. Once we are done with service I'll become a sentry and work until retirement, maybe get married ans have kiddo if I find the right person."

"Awww that's cute! Okay me next! I want to be a chef!" Lilianne, a blue haired blue skinned soldier spoke up. The tiny woman certainly always brought a good fight. Tamlin had no doubts she'd make honors when service finished.

"Ill cook with you Lili! What's say you, Lance? What shall you do?" A tiny male pixie spoke to their shadow wraith friend.

The tall grey skinned fae smiled. "I want to be a gardener. I love Spring! Moving here was the best decision I made!"

"I hear that!" Andras beamed, he was still pale and cold to the touch betraying his Winter heritage yet he seemed very happy to be here. "What about you, Tamlin? What shall you become after military service ends?"

What could he become? He wanted to be a traveling muscian but doubted that could come to pass before Oisin died and one of his brothers took the throne. Then he thought back to the parchments and verses that were on his pack along with weapons.

"I'd be a poet."

"A poet...That suits you, your limericks are always a riot!" Rosencratz said.

"Write about us!" Lilianne joked.

The rest of the group chuckled, approving his decision. He felt slightly bashful having a familiar moment that he sorely lacked at the manor with his blood siblings.

No matter, they'd go back home tomorrow and be done serving in two days. Tamlin intended to reward all his squadamtes upon the end of service. For now he wanted to sleep.

None of them quite heard the roaring monsters in the distance.

***

Death is certain as the sunset over the horizon

Today I stand before you with eyes of iron

That our farewell would come in a thousand years time

Not just as we are about to reach the end of the line

Rest well, in fields of daisies and marigolds

Until we meet again in times of old.

Tamlin finished reading as he stared at the coffins. Only he and Andras made it to the end of service alive, for the rest of the squad perished during the attack on their camp. Tamlin doubted he'd ever forgive himself for failing them. He spent his nights since swearing such a thing wouldn't happen again.

Tamlin put his feelings into reading the verse before collapsing into a fit of crying. Andras held him in a hug until he was quiet.

"That was perfect, you did very well. Come, let's go back and let the morticians do their job. I heard Prince Dorevan called the Autumn prince's to celebrate. Luce will cheer us up."

He smiled sadly. "Yes, it's been a while..."

He stood and let Andras guide him away as they left the room. With one last glance at his friends he swore he'd write them a thousand poems.

"C'mon big guy. I'll take care of you for them." Andras said as they walked away, unaware of the smiles on his ghostly friends faces.

Hopefully neither would join them any time soon.

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 9/26/2023

six sentences or less, bc having a physical form has been super duper extra fun this past week

listening

i like Chappell Roan very much as an artist/performer/media personality (and have previously featured tuesdaysongs Pink Pony Club and Red Wine Supernova), but i do not like her new album The Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess very much as an album. it is not very good to listen straight through as a work. very high high and very very low vibes all over the place, three different kinds of club bangers interspersed with torch songs. After Midnight both sonically and like, vocal delivery? reminds me a lot of modern paramore?? chill but danceable, a canonically bisexual song.

-

reading

what would we fucking do without Riptide Publishing and their batshit insane (lovingly) catalog? The Glamour Thieves by Don Allman is the platonic ideal of a "one last job"-style heist book, in gay urban magic/paranormal wrapping paper. had remarkably good action sequences, buckets of atmosphere, excellent pacing. i read it in one sitting and was up until 3AM. my library doesn't have the other two in the trilogy, so i'm impatiently waiting until there's more fun money in the fun money budget

JT is an orc on the way up. He’s got his own boutique robotics shop, high-end clientele, and deep-pocketed investors. He’s even mentoring an orc teen who reminds him a bit too much of himself back in the day.  Then Austin shows up, and the elf’s got the same hard body and silver tongue as he did two years ago when they used to be friends and might have been more. He’s also got a stolen car to bribe JT to saying yes to one last scheme: stealing the virtual intelligence called Blue Unicorn. Soon JT’s up to his tusks in trouble, and it ain’t just zombies and Chinese triads threatening to tear his new life apart. Austin wants a second chance with JT—this time as more than just a friend—and even the Blue Unicorn is trying to play matchmaker.

-

watching

the latest Felix Colgrave and partner Zoë Medcraft video has big madeline vibes. in a big giant anthill all covered in vines lived twelve billion ants in many straight lines. love to watch an ant carry off an entire head of garlic

-

playing

the next g/enshin update is rapidly approaching and that's about all i've been doing the entire time i've been sick. toodling around and finishing off stray quests here and there, accidentally discovering i never engaged with a fairly major quest, exploring nooks and crannies for stray chests and puzzles.

i did an extremely tiresome quest chain and rejuvenated this big tree that you can see from three other in-game nations which is pretty cool. i wish it looked slightly less like a nuclear test cloud?

this monarch butterfly of a claymore-wielding woman will be released in late winter/early spring hopefully and i Must have her. this game is so good to me re: women with giant swords

-

making

fallow week. i hope to GOD i will have the energy this week to make these fucking couch covers i want them to be Done

[mirahuyooo]

Stranded (III) | jhs

— But, darling, if you hadn’t fallen, you wouldn’t have met him—the one who’ll render you mad and drunk with his love so much that you’ll never want to find sanity again.

word count: 17,476 (PART III) contents: FluFF, skinny dipping (no spicy times tho lmao), deep talks, uncovering trauma, daddy issues, ANGSTY ANGST, y/n discovers the truth behind her abandonment, Theseus, getting drunk, violence (not really graphic), not necessarily accurate (i mixed up a lot of versions and made up some shit), a bit historical?? idk anymore, long explanation & historical refs at to be followed if you're interested, Greek Mythology AU pairing: Jung Hoseok x Reader Inspired by Dionysus and Ariadne

[masterlist] | check out [Elysian Tales] & [BTS as Greek Myth Icons]!

A/N: LAST PART, PEEPS!!! LET'S GOOO!! i hope y'all buLLETPROOF for this about to HURT right in the middle 😭😭😭 I'm so glad to have finally put this piece out here T-T it's truly a fav 💖 i hope y'all enjoy this!! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

𝓹𝓻𝓮𝓿 ◁ | END.

It was fortunate that winters don’t last long in Greece, because soon enough, the coldness thaws and spring comes to Naxos. Each day is still wound with the shenaniganry that is Hoseok, and today, he brings you back to the pool where you first met the nymphs.

The two of you had spent the day helping the nymphs with their home and making sure the trees they lived in wouldn't be disturbed by travelers or beasts alike. You, too, would have to prepare your home for the seasonal change soon, perhaps as one of Hoseok's followers to help you with renovations, so you wouldn't have to inconvenience Silenus next winter.

Before settling for the day, Hoseok invited you to come along with him to the pool to end the day relaxed, he says.

“What in the world are you doing?!"

You gasp as you see him unravel his clothes, spinning yourself away from him in an instant. Hoseok only laughs upon your averted gaze, mischief in every note of it.

His shamelessness, you find, has known no bounds the more you let yourself be dragged to his tomfoolery. He has changed, indeed. "I say we have a little dip, hm?" he muses, his words later on followed by a splash of water.

Willing yourself to not look past what the water allows you, you steal a glance and see him resurface with a grin inviting you to join him. His dark curls were swiped back by his hands, which soon led your eyes to his naked chest and carved collarbones. The setting sun dims the light within the cave, leaving the rest of him to your unhelpful imagination.

Gods help you. "I'm not bathing with you!" you squeal, scandalized by the mere thought of it (but admittedly tempted).

The expression on his face tells you just how much Hoseok was enjoying toying with you. "You dare defy the request of a god, princess?" he teasingly lilts, leisurely swimming back so as to not tear his eyes away from you.

"Don’t say it like that," you grumble, eyes still bouncing off everywhere else in the cavern but him for too long. He may be your friend, but if anyone else might hear of thi—

"I kid, (Y/N)," Hoseok assures upon noticing your furrowed brows and pout. The moment you regain your thoughts and look at him, he smiles. "But," he then muses, "some company is nice for a little swim, do you think not?"

Chewing at your lip, you mull over his words. It has been a hot time indeed, attested by the nymphs' whines and lament you've been hearing for the past few days. Has something happened to Yoongi?

You haven't been faring well with the heat either—even now—especially when the activities of the day had left you sore and sweaty. Really, you haven't much else to kill your time with either.

"I'll withhold from any funny business, I swear," Hoseok further invitingly promises, chuckling as he swims in little laps before you. "You don't have to strip either," he then muses, but then thinks to himself for a moment. "Though you would lack a spare for change."

Perhaps it was because you were bored, or because you wanted the upper hand over him for once, or perhaps it was something else entirely, but you found yourself making a rather bold move.

"Never the matter, I can—"

"Turn around…"

Hoseok's eyebrows rose sky high at your words, a fiery blush spreading across his cheeks—one that (fortunately for him) you were too embarrassed to notice. Your words came out rather quiet and weak, but it was enough for him to freeze. “I beg your pardon?” he gawked, the most shocked you've ever seen him—and you almost feel victorious. Almost.

Awkwardly, you stood there, hand reaching where your dress was held together by a pin and idly playing with it as you found the courage to speak aloud once more. "I said turn around,” you tell him, staring firmly at him into doing your bidding.

Hoseok does as you ask, still taken aback.

After leaving your dress and undergarments in a pile by a large rock, you quickly part your hair over your shoulders and drape them over your decolletage. "Don't you dare look!" you warn once more, watching him closely. 

His smugness seems to have caught up with him, seeing as he was quick to go back to his teasing after hearing you say those words. "Yes, dear," he playfully sings, "come on in."

Practically envisioning the wolfish grin on his face, you resist chucking a pebble at him. You focus on the present moment, and, finally, set yourself ankle deep into the pool, hands covering your delicate parts. The water ripples at your arrival, and as you go deeper, your hair begins to float around you until you gather them back to cover your upper half.

The moment the water reaches your chin, you realize it's deeper than you initially thought, even back when you were with the nymphs. Perhaps, it's even deeper along where Hoseok is, likely leading further down and somewhere into the sea. And so, heart thrumming against your chest, you idly stay where you were, near the edge.

Hoseok's head twitches to turn around but he catches himself. "Comfortable?" He asks first, turning his head just a little—only to catch a glimpse of you holding onto one of the edges and dipping your head into the seawater to fully submerge yourself, eyes closed shut and lungs holding in as much air as you could.

Immediately, he whips his head away upon noticing you were about to resurface. "Hm?" you ask him in the midst of soothing your hair away from your face, not catching what he said.

"Are you comfortable?" he asks again, swimming a little closer with his back still towards you. "I was about to say you needn't strip but…"

It's dark enough, you decide, for him to not see what he shouldn't, so you manage a little smile. "I'll be fine," you tell him, smiling a little once he turns around. Too late to cower back now anyways.

There were still traces of the wine god's flustered shock, but he does well to steer the conversation away from awkward tension. "Feels nice, does it not?" he says as the two of you languidly circle in the shallow area of the pool. (Hoseok, you notice, doesn't go back to the deeper end. Has he taken note of your inability to swim?)

The thought brings butterflies to your stomach, but you refuse to let it distract you any further. You agreeably hum, looking up to see the sky over the overhead fissure and see the night sky coming in with its twinkling stars. A soft smile makes it to your face as you savor the serenity of the moment, sore muscles easing as you turn back to the wine god, whose eyes seem so fixated on you.

"It is relaxing, actually," you finally admit aloud, sighing blissfully as you watch the water ripple around you. "Though it'd be better to be much more prepared next time."

The wine god breathlessly chuckles, nodding along as the notion of a next time excites him. "No more surprises next time, I swear," he says, his hands raised in mock surrender, though you roll your eyes (affectionately) and know well that won't stop his future nonsense next time.

What you also know is that, at the moment, Hoseok is somber, stealing thoughtful glances your way—the two of you sharing an innocent moment in spite of the bold circumstances. In truth, you had expected a water fight by now. "What is it?" you softly ask, lingering just a little closer as your eyes fully meet.

There's a look of profound pride and joy in his eyes as he gazes down at you. "You've changed, princess," he tells you, voice soft yet it still strikes you hard enough to take your breath away.

"In a good way, I hope?" you manage to jest, dipping yourself a little lower into the seawater as if it'd do well to hide your flustered face—or do anything with the funny feeling in your belly. By now, you're side by side, shoulders and arms mere centimeters apart.

The wine god nods, turning to face you with a wistful smile. "You look happier," he gently notes, tucking a hair behind your ear as he does. "Very much a good way."

While the blush on your cheeks continue to spread like wildfire at his touch, his words plunge you into the memories of your murky past—of being that princess chained to a cruel life—and as you drown in it, you're reminded of what Hoseok actually said—of your change, your happiness that he very much was mostly the architect of. The wine god has broken a hole into the depths that drown you—given you a way out to take if you so please while he waits for you to truly leave it all behind.

You are happier—much lighter, much freer—and that brings a smile to your face. "I suppose I am," you muse, practically glowing in the wine god's eyes, "and I have you and the others to thank for it."

The warmth in Hoseok’s chest is undeniable of his utter reverence for you. "Wouldn't have done it without your trust in my shenanigans, princess," he cheekily claims in spite of his giddy heart. For his sake, he swims back and bit away from you, the two of you beginning to idly swim around until…

SPLASH!

The wine god’s boisterous laughter resonates throughout the cave as you gasp at his betrayal.  "Hoseok!" you shriek, retaliating with your own beat of the water towards his direction. With the sweet, innocent moment now gone, the two of you began chasing one another around the pool.

You knew that water fight was bound to come soon.

Eventually, the swim must come to an end before you both end up like raisins, and Hoseok summons Agrios, the large cat seemingly knowing well to bring some towels for the both of you to dry yourselves with. You offer the beast lots of pats and rubs as drape the linen over your shoulders. "Thank you very much," you coo, as you sit by the little fire pit Hoseok conjures.

"I was the one who summoned him," the wine god whines, finally taking a seat next to you two. "How come I don't receive any thanks or pats?"

You laugh, taking a spare linen and reaching forth to drape it over his wet tresses. "Oh, what great magnificence, my liege," you dramatically sung your praises, "such fortune has been blessed upon this humble servant!"

Hoseok half-heartedly rolls his eyes, reaching forth to mush your cheeks together. "Only you would dare to treat me like this," he playfully grumbles as you pry his hands off.

"I thought you said this was a very good change," you grin, as you raise a brow up at him. "Would you like me to go back then?"

Fondly, Hoseok's shoulder nudges yours. "Of course not," he scoffs, resting his head on your shoulder with his damp hair tickling your skin. "You know," he then says after a moment passes, "the day I saw you, I was debating on heading here instead, but Agrios was so insistent on the beach."

You find yourself smiling even more, hands brushing through the leopard's mane as he settles to your other side. "Thank Agrios for that then," you softly muse, "and the Fates for bringing us all together."

The greater part of you knows well you would've never thought the loom of fate would weave your life this way. Behind your struggles on the new path you tread, there is solace and tender appreciation for the banter, the surprises, and the menace.

You rest your head atop his as you gaze into the fire, watching the embers that crackle into the darkness of the night. "My life now is a far cry from what I used to live," you all but ponder, eyes beginning to sting as tears pool in them.

Beside you, Hoseok gazes tenderly, his brows starting to furrow and his lips starting to frown. You haven't talked much of your old life, and he knew just the gist of it—terrible father, terrible half-brother, and terrible lover. “Why have you…” he began, mulling over his words, “Why have you not tried to run away before? If it was so suffocating for you, why did you stay in that place?”

Only then does Hoseok realize his question had been insensitive.

"It's not that easy," you say, a sharp edge to your voice that confirms his belated regrets. Whatever responsibilities you were forced to carry had obviously been heavy if it had left you this scarred.

Hoseok gives a gentle squeeze to your hand, apologetically admitting his fault. "I spoke out of line."

For a moment then, you did nothing but stare ahead with a far away look in your eyes. They carry stories he could only hope you tell him yourself. “I…” you began to say, “I felt responsible, you could say. Though I was young when my mother was cursed to do what she had done—”

“Fucking a bull?” Hoseok surmised.

You recoil at his vulgar tongue. “Yes, well…" you clear your throat, "that.”

Eyes shot wide, the wine god immediately reading his words. “Sorry,” he coughed, looking down and wiggling his toes to idle in silence, "I will say a word no longer."

Truly, when he heard of the accursed rumors while he was in Crete, he didn't think the curse was that forward. It wasn't that he found the events disgusting—he had seen and heard worse—just that he came to think of the gods' temperament. The sinner was obviously your father, and yet Poseidon had seen it fit for everyone else in your family and kingdom to also be roped into the consequences of his greed.

“I was the eldest daughter,” Hoseok hears you go on. “I felt responsible to be an exemplary figure for my sisters and for my people. I thought that if I followed what my father says, it would’ve been the best for everyone. My father is a terrifying man, after all.”

Next to him, you scoff at your naïveté. “I couldn’t have been more wrong,” you humorlessly chuckle, your gaze still so haunted and distant. “I still have nightmares of the people sent down there.”

You shiver, and though Hoseok knew it wasn't just from the night's chill breeze, he takes a drier towel and drapes the fabric around your shoulders, as you, whose mind is barely with him in the present, simply let him.

A shaky sigh leaves your lips. “I often think to myself; had father been humble the first time around and apologized to Poseidon, had he raised Asterion humanely at the very least, perhaps things would’ve gone differently,” you confess, eyes shining with unshed tears as a furrow etched itself between your brows in despair. “I always waited for that change in my father’s greedy eyes, but in the end…” you purse your trembling lips where a bitter smile forms. “I had to wait for a sword to end it all.”

At that part of the recollection, you seem to sober up a little. “Father would’ve had me killed without a second thought if I hadn't left,” your eyes flicker towards him for a moment, and Hoseok recognized fear. "I don't think he even loves me enough to spare me a second to explain myself."

In the best way he knows how, the wine god attempts to steer you away from such terrible thoughts. “Your father’s a foul man, indeed,” he agreeably hums before putting on dramatics. “Perhaps I should make him grow horns and a tail if he's so adamant about the minotaur," he goes to mischievously nudge your shoulder, "or maybe I make him think he's a bull himself! What say you, hm?”

You laugh lightly at his suggestions but shake your head, not really thinking he's serious about his words when he's playfully enacting a charging bull with his hands on his head for horns. “No need,” you hush him, “Theseus already did enough damage by killing his prized monster.”

There's a faint falter to his face following your words and it made you falter—made unease simmer in the pit of your belly. "Theseus?" he quips, "the supposed hero of the tale then, I assume?"

Hoseok's change in attitude doesn't elude you, try as he might to keep it at bay. You could only hesitantly nod. “Why such disdain?” you then ask, a nervous chuckle leaving your lips as you try and decipher his expression. He's angry, you think, but why?

He tears away from your troubled stare and faces the campfire, stoking it with a nearby branch. “Some hero he is then," his grumbled words drip with sarcasm so prickly and cold that it makes you wince as though he had directed such poisonous words to you. You've never heard or seen him like this before—jaw clenched, nose flared, and glaring at the fire.

“I beg your pardon?”

Much more to your shock, Hoseok turns to you, nose stubbornly raised high as he crosses his arms. “You heard me,” he said with much more conviction than before. “Even if he slays a dozen Minotaurs, he will never amount to a true hero in my eyes.”

His displeasure towards Theseus somehow makes your heart shatter—makes you feel stupid for some reason, too. “How can you say such things with such sureness?” you huff, defensive, “have you even met the man you are so heartlessly berating?”

Tension rapidly rushes between you both—Hoseok being offended, and so do you.  “No,” he grunts, rolling his eyes, “but from what I see, he is definitely so.”

The wine god doesn't let you butt in, instantaneously laying his ground for arguments. “Leaving a young woman—a princess, mind you—alone on a desolate island to fend for herself isn’t such a heroic feat, is it?” he gritted through his teeth. “Not to mention the possibility that he must've feigned his adoration towards you in order to incite you into helping him kill the Minotaur.”

Your breath hitched, hurt by his insinuations. Theseus didn't really feign his feelings…. did he?

Hands clenching your dress in fists, you glare at your supposed friend. “It was noble of him to bring upon the death of Minotaur,” you sneer, "surely you cannot deny that?"

“Arguably so,” Hoseok scoffs, his piercing gaze pinning you down and making you feel small, “but what of him deserting you here?”

His words were a deadly blow to your heart, quickly killing any of your rebuttals in one fell swoop as that grim day flashes before your eyes all over again—the pounding headache, the empty space beside you, the derelict camp with marks of haste in the sand. The pain you've buried beneath shenaniganry crawls out of its grave to take a ghastly bite out of your aching heart.

You're a fool.

Why are you arguing with him about Theseus? Defending Theseus, no less?

Hoseok's dislike towards Theseus seemed so instant, so easy, that it came to you that maybe you had been blind after all, not seeing the folly of the hero you gave your heart to.

You're still a fool.

You breathlessly laugh with no true mirth that a laugh should have and in that instant Hoseok realizes what consequences letting his emotions get the best of him causes. Your pathetic laughing at your own downfall sends tears down your cheeks that you don't even seem to take note of. “You’re right,” you murmur your words so quietly, so defeatedly that Hoseok almost didn't hear you. “I had not known enough love from a man to have been certain that someone like Theseus would have settled for the likes of me—a princess of such a kingdom.”

You'll always be a fool.

(In truth, Hoseok's heart shatters then and there, guilt seeping in at every crack as he can't find the words to mend what pain he had subjected you to.)

Out of bittersweet reminiscing, you gestured beachwards where a tent of supplies had once been left for you. “At very least, he had the decency to leave a few supplies behind for me,” you poorly attempt to jest, “perhaps, that was enough mercy.”

Alas, the man you knew to be all smiles didn’t budge. Hoseok still gazed over you with a forlorn look on his face. His eyebrows were knitted together, with the ever growing wrinkle between them showing you nothing but frustrations. Why is he still angry?

Realizing then that you had been crying, you quickly wipe your tears away. You've embarrassed yourself. “There’s no need to be so cross with me, Hoseok,” you nudge his side, turning to the fire before you. “If I must admit it to you, I am an idiot to love.”

You feel more of the god’s ire and stare burning onto the side of your face. Was it pity for your circumstances or disdain for your lack of a fighting spirit?

You didn’t know. You didn’t like it.

Hands make themselves at home over your cheeks. Your eyes meet and you see a storm brewing in them—a part of you wanted to revel in it, while the other wanted to run for shelter.

“(Y/N)...” Hoseok began, soft yet firm, taking you aback from one of the few times he’s called you by your name. “You were wronged,” he tells you, “when will you truly tell yourself that?”

His words struck your heart, like lightning would a tree. His eyebrows were furrowed deeper, the upset frown on his face looking so misplaced. This was the storm—Hoseok’s rage for the bastard who broke you to the point where a part of you still felt at fault. 

"He should be grovelling," he said with such fury, "rue the day he left you here."

Hearing such words was a validation and a painful reminder put into one. Hoseok’s words were enough to help you slay the little bitch in you that held back your fury, held you back using the tight upbringings of your father.

All this time, if not avoiding the topic overall, you would blame yourself—be it your careless trust in the prince, or your foolish assumptions of being loved by the likes of him and his people.

Your entire life has been nothing but a force of people telling you it was your fault, when it wasn’t. It wasn’t your fault your mother was cursed to consummate with the bull your father double crossed Poseidon with. It wasn’t your fault a monster was born from such a union, and your father only used it further for his greed. It wasn’t your fault Theseus didn’t keep his word and left you here to rot.

You find courage in your heart to free yourself of your shackles for the second time—(yet another set of chains that bind you, just a bit more and you're free)—and to shout into the storm instigated by Hoseok’s anger.

Then and there, sobs rack through your whole being from the hurt dawning onto you all at once. "I know," you cried, shaking fists clenching the fabric of your dress yet again. You were wronged. You were wronged. You were wronged.

Arms wrapped around you tight, resisting the initial protest you gave them. “I apologize for starting such nonsense talk,” Hoseok sighs, hands rubbing circles on the expanse of your back. "I lost control over my anger and I spoke carelessly yet again," he grits through his teeth, partly disappointed in himself, "forgive this fool and his senseless mouth."

The wine god spends a good second looking at the heartache in your face, and feels his own heart suffer. He didn't want to see you like this again and yet he had failed miserably. “Cry all you want,” he then urges you, wiping at the cheeks of your snivelling self. “Let out your pain and I’ll lend you my shoulder, hm?”

You find yourself surrendering to the comfort, starved for the warmth you’ve never been given. Head tucked in the crook of his neck, you let yourself sob in Hoseok’s arms. You have nothing but the comfort of his embrace—nothing but him.

Things don’t quite settle the same after that night.

Hoseok’s eyes have been more keen on watching you—how your smile doesn’t reach its fullest, how you’ve become absentminded, or how you’ve excused yourself from most of the gatherings he invited you to. Your heart is in pieces and you cut yourself in the shards without care. The wine god, in spite of not really being one to gently console, has gone through a lot trying to hold it back together.

Here Hoseok was, leisurely laying against the trunk of a tree as the both of you sat under the canopy of the forest well into the afternoon. Beside him sat you idly weaving together a basket—or at least trying to. Time and time again, you cast him a fleeting glance that he makes no comment of.

Eventually, you decide to break the silence yourself. “You needn’t stay here with me,” you sigh, setting your craft on hold upon your lap as your eyes set a doubtful gaze on him. “I can tell how much this bores you.”

He cocks an eyebrow, his lips tugging upwards just a smidge. “I’m not bored,” he contends, though you still look unconvinced, brows furrowed and lips held in the ghost of a frown. “Truly, I am not,” he softly insists, “I, too, can enjoy some peace and quiet.”

You watch as he lays his head onto your thigh, sharing it with the basket-to-be you now couldn’t care less about. Nonetheless, you pick the weavework up to let the wine god make himself comfortable. "Shouldn't you be spreading your influence or something of the sort?" you huff as you once again busy yourself with the basket in your hands.

Surely, you thought, a promising god making his way up the pantheon such as him would prioritize that instead of a measly mortal like you, would he not?

Instead, the deity remains content on your lap in the midst of a quaint forest like it's the throne he belongs to. "They're fine," Hoseok shrugs with careless abandon as he usually does. "My cult won't crumble so easily."

Deep in thought, his dauntless eyes are piercing as they peek up at you even when they don't mean to—the doing of his intimidating, divine presence you suppose. “Enough about me. How are you truly faring, princess?” it was his turn to ask, placing a gentle hand on your shaking ones and stopping your poor weaving when you used it to hide your face from him. “Tell me.”

Whether it was the tenderness in his voice, the ounce of authority he puts in his words, or something else entirely, you sigh and forgo the thought of lying to him. Hoseok has now sat up before you, eyes awaiting any other sign he could take from your expression alone. You know you can deny or avoid the nature of your mind no longer—how it yearns for sweet release from your past yet becomes ensnared by the scornful chains of your contempt and the many questions left unattended to. “I want to put my past behind me, I truly do,” you confess, a bittersweet smile encapsulated on your lips, “but as much I crave for that, I, too, crave for answers, for justice.”

You would do just about anything else than to endure the silence that followed, eyes unable to look at him in fear of bursting the tears you were keeping at bay.

"What do you intend to do after receiving those answers?" Hoseok says after a good minute, sending you into a silence of thinking.

Lips parting, you try to formulate words, to show that you had some resolve over this, but none came out to your need. "I…" your voice cracks as you stammer an admission, "I don't know."

All but another bittersweet smile forms at your lips, your confession leaving you helpless. "But it'd be nice to know of the truth, would it not?" you weakly muse and pathetically steal a glance at the god beside you, only to see him stare off into the trees, his mind lost to thinking of something else.

Another while passes, the wine god beside you seems to be lost in his own thoughts before he decidedly nods to himself. "Alright then," Hoseok finally turns to look at you with a smile soft and comforting, as though telling you everything will turn out alright in the end.

You stare at him, incredulous. "What?"

Wordlessly, the god stood to his feet before you. “Do you trust me, princess?” Hoseok instead asked, offering no other explanation.

You look at his inviting hand—almost glaring.

The last time someone asked you that, you took the very hand that killed the monster of your kingdom, and jumped aboard a ship to flee the treason you both committed. The last time you trusted someone, you woke up an abandoned fool.

But this was Hoseok.

Hoseok, who may have been all shits and giggles, but always looked out over your wellbeing.

Hoseok, who was a god that took you in—freed you from shackles with him and his madness.

Hoseok, who was warmth in a different way than Theseus—a hearth rather than a torch, a home rather than a beacon.

You find yourself taking his hand before you could realize it, Hoseok’s tight, comforting grip causing you to meet with his eyes. His smile softens your resolve, ultimately leading you to surrender to his grasp. “I’ll trust you,” you tell him and something shifted as you said those words—his eyes sparkled more, his smile grew wider, his expression almost fonder than before.

The sky approaching sunset bathes you both in an orange and golden light, but it almost seems to make him glow. “What an honor,” he tenderly muses, taking the hand you gave him and tucking it on his arm as he begins to lead you elsewhere.

Something in you felt like he meant the words he said so jokingly—and you like it.

"Hoseok…"

The wine god has a lot of surprises up his sleeve, you should've known better than to be shocked when he brought you to a chariot pulled by Agrios and other leopards—let alone to be flying across the sky on it. You don't know what you expected the wine god to do when you took his hand, but it certainly wasn't this.

Around you now are pristine white buildings towering over you both, and in the distance is a statue of the goddess of wisdom you had heard so much about. So late into the evening, there are few people around, and yet you bask in it anyway, wondering how lively the streets become in the daylight when everything exudes such decorum.

Athens is as beautiful as you envisioned it—a marvel to take in and a heartbreak all the same.

Whether it was the cold breeze of the night or Hoseok's touch brushing across your skin as he reaches to catch your buckling form stepping down the chariot, you shiver. The wine god, nonetheless, catches your attention, seeing much of the worry and hesitation in swimming in the pools of your eyes. “You deserve your answers, princess,” he urges as he nods towards the palace, “and I’ll make sure he pays for it.”

And so, the two of you slip to and fro around the palace halls, his powers only getting him so far since he’s never one to visit Athens long—they’re too uptight and rational, he says. The night, fortunately, aids the both of you with the time, having fewer people around to stumble across. Hoseok, all the while, uses his divinity to drive away any guards or servants who become too close to discovering your presence. Your endeavors eventually lead you both to two big oak doors, its golden handles tempting you to open them forth.

This is the king's quarters.

"Go on," Hoseok's hush voice urged from behind you as he set down a now unconscious guard that tried to halt the both of you.

Still, you stood dumbly before the doors, unsure and with no courage to be found. Are you ready to see that face again? What will you say? What will you do?

Should you barge the doors open and say 'Hello, Theseus. Why in the world did you forsake me?' or simply stand before him menacingly like the ghost he left you to become?

Should you let your rage take the mantle and scream 'How could you do this to me?!' to your heart's content or be better and steadily interrogate him?

Should you—

"It'd do you well to think twice before doing anything irrational, mortal."

In panic at the unknown presence, you snap out of your frenzied thoughts and wheel around towards the voice that held an edge to the words uttered. A woman stands tall not far from you both, clad in a white and gold with her head held high, glowing almost otherworldly.

The next thing you hear is Hoseok's own voice, dripping with shock as his back straightens. "Athena?"

Your heart drops in an instant, dread filling your veins. The goddess Athena?

The wine god held the goddess’ stare, dauntless and careless as ever. Hoseok slowly pushes you behind him and opens the doors himself with his powers, locking the doors to the bedroom once you make it inside, too. The handles jiggle, a sign of you trying to come out, but it stops soon enough. 

A sigh and a shake of the head is what he receives from the goddess before him. If there was any rage, Athena hid it beneath a collected, tame facade. “You’re as troublesome as ever, Dionysus,” she drawls disapprovingly, but makes no other move. “For such a futile cause, too.”

With hands clasped behind his back, Hoseok remains in between her and the doors. “We’re simply here for answers, sister,” he modestly says, offering no harm to her subjects. “Nothing more.”

Athena’s brow quirks, knowing damn well it’s a lie. He would curse Theseus, if the exchange ever goes awry for you in any way. “If you wanted answers, I would’ve given them,” she quips, the moonlight illuminating her in such an intimidating way.

Alas, Hoseok is too brazen, too foolhardy to be intimidated. “I think she’d rather hear it from him instead,” he retorts, thinking it best for your much needed closure to face the one who broke your heart. (Only then can he truly come to lull you to love again.)

“It’ll only break her heart to know he really did abandon her.”

Such words knocked the wine god to a stupor. Athena’s face remains unreadable as she said it, but there was a gut feeling in Hoseok’s stomach that told him she was in league with the betrayal. Eyes narrowing to glare daggers at her, the wine god could feel anger rising within him. “You…” Hoseok growls, “did you have him abandon her?!”

Then and there, emotion flashed in Athena’s eyes—anger matching his own. “Do not raise your voice at me, brother,” she fires back with her own glare. “Know your place.”

Reminded of his station in the pantheon, Hoseok curses under his breath. You cannot manage to wage a war against a deity more powerful and influential than you.

Athena raises her head as she lays down her judgment of you. "She's not fit to be queen," she puts it so simply that it drags the frown on Hoseok’s lips further. "Her actions have marked her as a blood traitor. She cannot rule alongside Theseus, and so, she became an offering to you while on Naxos—a bride, perhaps."

The words render the wine god speechless. It wasn’t uncommon for travelers to give offerings to the deity of a region they stay amidst their journey. The chances of you having the same fate may have crossed his mind as a possibility once, but—

It was then that the prayer from that stormy night resurfaced.

… as told, to you, we leave a maiden of fair beauty and heart. May she make wonderful company.

You are the maiden offering, after all.

Having such a fact be confirmed to him after the two of you had been vulnerable to one another, it brews sickly guilt within him. To envision your tears and know that sorry state had been left for him, you had truly been nothing but a tool passed around—and that breaks him.

Still, looking at the grander scheme, his rage doesn’t ease. "Not fit enough to be the bride of a king, but fit enough to be the bride of a god?" a scoff leaves Hoseok’s lips as his heart beats erratically, still trying to make peace with what he had learned.

Athena only glowers, her silence enough to answer for her. The goddess doesn’t end her piece there, however. “Theseus will never love her in the way she wanted,” she says the truth and it’s cold—would’ve frozen your heart and made it shatter if you had heard them. “The people will never take it well to have their queen be the same princess who made them suffer either. She would’ve spent her life miserable here.”

“Don’t be so furious either, Hoseok,” she soon levels him with eyes knowing the truth in his heart and the meaning in his name. “I know that look,” Athena tells him, a smirk on her lips both mocking, knowing, and pitying. “If she hadn’t been abandoned, you would’ve never gotten to meet and love her yourself, won’t you, brother?”

Hoseok can’t bring himself to say anything else. The both of them knew that even if he were to deny it right here and then, he’ll only be lying to himself. 

The goddess of wisdom sees it fit to end the discussion soon. "Leave," she commands the last of her words somewhat both softly and sternly. "Take her with you before the guards are alerted of your trespass."

Just as she came, the goddess vanished out of thin air, leaving Hoseok alone to his muddled thoughts. The doors behind him seem to stare back, daring him to open them to see you.

Alas, he doesn’t have the chance to ponder any longer. His heart drops when he hears shouting from inside.

The moment you realized Hoseok had sealed you within the room, you were nearly paralyzed where you stood, hands stuck on the handles as you tried to steady your breathing. Go on, (Y/N). You’ve gotten this far. Get your answers.

The room around you is grand—almost grander than yours back in Crete—as it should be for a king’s chambers, you suppose. Soon enough, however, you hear voices.

“...ow has your day been?”

Just as you anticipated, someone’s inside—Theseus. Who’s he speaki—

“It’s been alright. Brother’s letter arrived, the search is yet to be fruitful…”

No. No, it can’t be…

Every step you take, it feels as though your heart is being squeezed right before your very eyes. Your body struggles against what your curious mind wants, as if trying to protect you from whatever was taking place.

It doesn’t protect you fast enough.

Standing in the open, your eyes meet two pairs of shocked ones—Theseus and your sister, Phaedra.

The two of them stood by a vanity table, her hand atop the one he comfortably had on her shoulder. "(Y/N)?" Theseus gawks, the first to speak, eyes wide as though he couldn’t believe he would ever see you alive and in front of him ever again. It twists your heart some more.

In that instant, your brain scrambles to pick apart the scene and make sense of it. Amidst the denial desperate to reserve what’s left of the ounce of respect you had for your time together, your rage is quick to burn the last of your affections for him. You’re a fool. You’re a fool. You’re a fool.

"You seem surprised, your highness," you drawl, voice so cold and sharp that it shocks even you. "Had I truly not been in your plans for your reign, after all?"

The young king before you is eventually knocked out of his stupor, his face molding into an indecipherable stare as he steps forth, his body tense as if you were a threat. “Leave,” is all he says to you after all this time. 

It's like a sword stabbed through your heart.

You look at the man you once loved—the very same man who swore to make you his and protect you now fulfill his promise to you to someone else. “You want me to leave?” you couldn’t help the bitter scoff that leaves your lips. “Some hero you are then.”

Questioning his deeds seems to be successful in getting a reaction out of him, his lips tugging to a frown and his eyes narrowing into a glare. "I slayed the Minotaur!" Theseus bellowed. "You do not have the right to insult me so."

Why did you even fall in love with this man?

"You may have been the sword that slayed our brother," you spat, body running hot with anger as your voice starts to strain the more you raise your voice, "but if it weren't for me—for my aid—you wouldn't have made it out of that labyrinth alive. You wouldn't be able to revel in the glory you're in now."

Phaedra and Theseus’ mouths gape at the fiery outburst that’s seized you, angry tears blurring your sight yet you continue your outcry. "To abandon me on that island and leave me for death," your chest heaves with pained, struggling breaths. "To go and marry my younger sister, too," you sob harder, seeing your sister avoid your eyes behind him and he shields her. "How low can your betrayal become?"

Your accusation makes Theseus flinch, but he remains thick-faced. "You weren't left for death," he denies yet again, "I was instructed to leave you there by the great goddess Athena. I have no fault in this."

The news leaves you stunned. "What?"

Theseus takes advantage of your faltering rage, readily giving you the answer you came all this way for. "I was told to leave you on Naxos as a sacrifice for Dionysus," he crossed his arms, raising his head to defiantly stare into your eyes and break your heart even more. "I’m simply being a loyal servant to my goddess."

While you had wondered once if being in Naxos with Hoseok was your new purpose in life, it never came to you that it had been the actual reason for your abandonment in the first place. Your trampled heart is thrown down an abyss you have no idea how to escape out of. The possibility of divine intervention never even came to you, always thinking to give Theseus the benefit of the doubt he never deserved.

Seeing his indifference, however, your shock was all too suddenly overcome with rage once more. You didn’t know what sort of answer you expected to hear from him, but you certainly didn’t prepare your heart for this amount of heartache. The absence of warmth from the man you used to think the world of, the discovery of your sister’s involvement, and the truth behind your tragedy—you hadn’t thought it’d be one blow to the heart after the other.

Even if he had simply been doing as he was told, it’s as if it had been a relief to have been told to leave you. Hands clenching the fabric of your dress, you try to still your beating heart—try to keep another outburst at bay. "Is that what you are then?" you say, voice hoarse and hurt, "obedient, but with no heart, no remorse for what you've done?"

Theseus fidgets once more, idly trying to reason. "I left you supplies—”

"I had no knowledge of survival!" you scream once again, words strained by the rough use and the ache. "I was trapped in that palace growing up and you did no better by leaving me helpless on that island!"

Couldn't he at least pretend to be guilty for having left you there? Couldn't he at least feign a broken heart for being forced to leave the woman he swore to love?

Yet, here he was—a prosperous king married to your dear sister.

Your sister, who knew of your fancy to the hero that snuck into your kingdom.

Your sister, who was the one to encourage you to meet him.

Your sister, who now holds the crown and title you were promised.

Another stab was taken to your heart. Two people you've trusted your love and faith to had stomped it so easily. You take yet another glance at your sister, who cowers at every word you shout yet clings onto his arm still. "Had I not been fortunate to have survived," you dare to ask, "had I died then and there, would you have felt anything for me?"

They were both silent, guilt written on their faces in a way that told you they would've likely not, had it not been for you appearing before them, proposing the concept now. "I loved you,” you whimpered, the fabric of your dress nearly ripping from how tightly you gripped them. “I loved both of you!"

Theseus, your first love turned first romantic heartbreak.

Phaedra, your beloved confidant turned treacherous thief.

Heart trampled and filled with rage, you want to charge at them, screaming and hitting to your heart's content, but you’re tired—so, so tired. Your knees give out in no time, rendering you on the ground with nothing to support you. Even your lungs seem to lose faith in you, struggling to supply you with air and leaving you light-headed by the minute as you hyperventilate through your sobs.

In your sorry state, Theseus could still only think of himself and his queen. “That’s enough, (Y/N),” he all but demands, heartless as ever over your fallen frame. “Leave or I’ll call the palace guards.”

For once, you find yourself agreeing to the Athenian king’s words. You’ve got your answers. You can’t bear to be around them any longer. Leave. You want to—

The doors burst open in a fury, capturing everyone’s attention towards the perpetrator—a certain wine god panickingly looking around the room. The moment your eyes meet with Hoseok’s, they soften for a moment before they harden yet again at the sight of your former lover and sister.

Theseus’ eyes are wide as your crestfallen form is wordlessly lifted in the air and towards the stranger who readily carries you in his arms, while you wound your arms around his neck and cry into his shoulder. The Athenian king’s heartbeat began to quicken as he realized just who this man might possibly be—the very god he left you to, Dionysus.

The queen is the only one that seems to be confused. “Theseus?”

A hand reached out to signal her to keep quiet, head humbly bowing down, as with one last glare sending shivers up their spine, the wine god leaves with you just as they had been wanting. There’s a terrible feeling settling in the pit of the king’s stomach.

They’ve incurred the wrath of a god.

Hoseok couldn't cast aside his worry, no matter how hard he tried—couldn't help but cast his worrying gaze behind him where you sat at the edge of his chariot, feet dangling in the air as Agrios and the others dragged the chariot through the air.

The night breeze brushes colder on the shoulder where your tears soaked his tunic and it all but puts more weight onto his heart. As the one manning the whole chariot, his place on it obstructs him from checking on you for too long. Since you two left Athens, he wonders if you’ve stopped crying, if you’re still with no strength in your knees, or if your cruel mind’s been repeating whatever that bastard may have said. 

It was a few painful hours of silence traveling back to Naxos, but it was a safe one nonetheless. Quickly taking care of the reins and wordlessly dismissing Agrios and his siblings to rest themselves, the wine god comes to your side, hesitant to pull you from your trance, lest it summons back your tears. "Princess...?" he gingerly calls out, "We have arrived…"

Before he could place a hold on your shoulder, your body moved on its own, still not with him mentally as you nearly trip over tree roots and crash onto the ground had it not been for him catching you last minute. You seem to stop then and there, letting nearly half your weight be carried by the arm that was wrapped around your middle.

The moment Hoseok notices the slight movement of your head towards him, he seized the chance. "About what happened—"

"We shouldn't have ever come there," your hoarse voice cuts his rambling off, glistening eyes soon looking up at him. He looks back at you with furrowed brows, just as crestfallen. "I shouldn't have listened to you,” your head shakes as you try to pull away from him. ”I shouldn't have."

It wasn't a fair accusation. You knew well you asked for answers, and now that the ones you sought have trampled over your poor, unfortunate heart, your addled mind could only deny it's own fault and blame the one who only intended to help you. You're a fool, through and through.

Hoseok gives you a bit of distance, but shifts his hold onto your wrists instead, keeping you from truly running away from him. "I didn't expect the situation to go so aw—"

“Is it true?”

The wine god is interrupted yet again, and it sparks frustration within him. "What is?” he nonetheless asks, confused for a moment, until he becomes terrified at the realization that Theseus may have told you the truth of what had taken place that day.  

You kept your head down, staring down at where his hands held you. “Was I…” your voice shakes, but it's so quiet he almost doesn't hear you. ”Was I really left on this island for you?”

It seems you dread hearing the truth once again, but Hoseok doesn't lie—you don't deserve any more of it. One painful truth after the other will leave you with more time to heal.

Hoseok knew he had yet to take a wife for himself, his reputation infamously paved with numerous lovers and flings just like many gods of the pantheon—especially his father, Zeus. Pairing that with his lax management of his godly duties has ended him in this tragic predicament, entangled with the strings of fate that twist your heart in its bounds and knots.

(He doesn't want to hurt you. He would never want to hurt you. He'll sit down and untangle this mess forever if he has to.)

As he swore, Hoseok tells you what he knows. "When we came around the shrine that day," he shakily began, drawing idle figures on the skin of your wrist. "I did discover a prayer about a maiden offering left for me, but I thought it’d be a coincidence for it to be you. You were left so haphazardly on the beach, I thought it was a separate incident, until…"

Hoseok could sense your chest shakingly heave before your breath hitches, bracing yourself for the next of his words.

“Athena confirmed it herself," the wine god tells you, watching as your lungs give out a big outbreath of shock and ruin that doesn’t ease your heavy heart in any way. "She saw it fit to have Theseus sacrifice you here, said you would’ve been miserable in Athens if you were to be queen as he promised.”

The thought of marriage with you in Hoseok's mind becomes bitter now that it's been soiled by such a cruel trick. No amount of wine could ever wash down the ugly mark of it. How can you love him after this?

For the first time since, you raise your head, your eyes glossy yet they seem to have run out of tears to shed. “Did he…" your words fall short of a whisper, "did he really have no protests to such orders? Did it come that easy for him to get rid of me?”

Hoseok's own heart is upset at the notion of you still letting that bastard have power over your heart, but he casts that aside in favor of your vulnerable self. All he can do now is speak his truth. “I do not know.”

You become silent then and there, slowly moving out of his grasp and he, unsure of what else to do, lets you. Hoseok's heart would burst from his chest if it could. He watches closely as you roughly wipe at your damp cheeks and forcibly draw your lips to a smile. It's bitter and, like the rest of you, unstable. “Well, the fates have certainly decided what my purpose in this world is,” you say aloud, a breathless chuckle escaping your lips.

You don’t think you can ever hate Hoseok for this—even if you did try—but in the grand scheme of things, you're a mere mortal subject to the gods, the fates, and their will. Always a pawn to someone else.

There was an obvious look of defeat and despondency in your eyes. Hoseok doesn’t like it—mourns because of it. All the time you spent together—raising your spirits, encouraging you out of your shell, and instilling confidence in you—was now all for naught, and it doesn’t help that he’s involved with the downfall of it all.

“(Y/N)...”

“It doesn’t matter now,” you’re quick to shut down any more of his attempts to comfort you, now sure that you’re bound for this misfortune in life. “I got my answers.”

Look at what it got me.

In the near distance, you see the cave that served as the roof over your head for months now—a far cry from the palace you knew, but it was everything. It was home, and now, you’re not so sure what it is exactly—if you can still think of it as a home knowing the man you found, built, and shared it with turned out to be someone you were offered and abandoned to, like an unknowing pup passed from one owner to another.

In truth, a part of you—deep down, buried under all that grief and hurt—understood Athena's intentions, and perhaps, you'll come across the acceptance for it after all the pain subsided. Alas, for now, your thoughts are becoming too loud—heartache, existential dread, and wallowing in one. Time—you need time to think, and then, perhaps, something to make your mind go numb for a couple of hours.

Decidedly, you march forth, stumbling a little as you leave the wine god where he stood. Though an apology weighs down at the tip of your tongue, all you could do is shamefully excuse yourself, eyes cast down and body fidgeting. “I’ll get myself something to drink...”

When you said those words, Hoseok indulged your need for space, he, himself, thinking it would do good to let some wine soothe the thoughts and emotions overwhelming you. Alas, it’s hours after the exchange, and by the time he entered your abode expecting you to be passed out already, you were still showing no sign of stopping. You’ll drink yourself to death, at this point. “That’s enough drinking, (Y/N),” he tuts, prying the wooden chalice and bottle from your surprisingly stubborn fingers. "You know Yoongi isn't around to give you the remedy for this."

His light jest doesn't do well to deter you. “Nonsense,” you slurred, sputtering some of the wine onto his robes as you tried to chase what he took.

You end up stumbling in his arms, and, in spite of both hands being occupied, Hoseok wound an arm around your waist to hold you up. For a second, he feels your body tense, perhaps mulling over whether to push him away from you or not, but ultimately, you mouthed no protest, too dizzy and too tired to.

The wine god finds himself beginning to understand why the rational, uptight people held great disdain for his masterpiece. Wine and other spirits numb down the drinker, merely delaying the inevitable reality they'll face, and, especially knowing the heavy reason behind your drinking, Hoseok feels upset with himself even more. “You can’t drink the pain away, princess,” he sighs, setting the wine bottle down so his now free hand can brush back the hair that stuck to your sweaty face.

Face scrunching at his touch, you whine and try to lull away from his hand. Through heavy-lidded eyes you peer up at him, almost in a glare. “But I can forget,” you stubbornly insist, a tear sliding down your cheek as your lips quiver. “I don’ know what else to do.”

There’s a frown on his lips, Hoseok could tell, and his brows are furrowed together like yours as he gently wipes his thumb across your cheek. It's easy to want to forget in a fragile time like this, and while wine can make you forget, Hoseok refused to lose you to it. He places the chalice down onto the table, ridding what keeps him from fully embracing you. "He doesn't deserve your tears," he finds himself saying those words through gritted teeth, "or your love."

You don’t seem to be clearly understanding his words, but you’ve let your head fall to his shoulder, burying it there as your hands raise to rest themselves on his chest. (If you had been a bit sober, you would’ve been aware of how fast his heart beats under your touch.)

"M' heart hurts," you all but murmured weakly against his tunic, followed by a sniffle. The words that follow fall from your lips in a dazed and defeated whisper. "Love always eludes me like this."

The wine god’s heart is clenched so tightly by your words that it leaves his face in a pained expression, as if he had actually been stricken with ichor running down his skin. If this was what you’ve come to believe, you’re sorely mistaken, and damn Theseus and everyone else for making you think in such a way. "You are loved, princess," he arduously declares, burying his head into your hair as he hugged you tighter. “Don’t ever think otherwise.”

At his words, he feels your head turning to the side where it leaves you listening to his heart. Hoseok wonders if you could tell his heartbeat’s pace is quickening now. Surely, you do, right? It’d be further testament to his proclamation—proof of the things you do to him, a god in his own right.

"I am?"

It was a quiet murmur, yet it spoke volumes of the doubt loudly seizing your head. Hoseok is crushed and you’re none-the-wiser to every crack your sadness compels onto his heart. "Mhm," he hums, pulling away so his hands can take a hold of your face as he lists the people you’ve managed to brighten up with your presence in your short time here. "Agrios, Silenus, Yoongi, Aldora, Alenka…"

Hoseok stares into your glistening eyes, a smile so soft on his lips as he sees you slowly coming back to him. For a moment, the wine god thinks to himself, whether or not to make his love known to you after all this time. I love you, such words dangle on the tip of his tongue. More than I ever thought I could love anyone else.

The faint scent of his wine on you, however, reminds him of your delirious state of mind, of how drunk it is. A waste of an opportunity to confess, he thinks. He'd rather have you fully sober when the time comes. "And me," was all he could say at that moment, but he said it with as much heart and warmth as he could muster. "We all love you very much."

(I love you. I love you. I love you.)

The wine god watches as you soften at his words, sobering a little as you take them in with a faint smile on your lips. He knows not if you’ll remember this exchange in the morning, but Hoseok hopes you can at least remember the feeling of it, and know that, even if the rest of the world shuns you, so long as he lives, Naxos will welcome you with open arms. “You best remember that, hm?” he playfully chides you, "You are loved."

Your hands gingerly snake from his chest and up to his hands where they rest upon your cheeks, replying with a gentle, meak nod. The last of your tears eased along with the spirits in your veins, the clarity of your actions the past hours now washing over a new sense of guilt onto you. "Forgive me," you softly tell him, gathering the strength to look up to meet his eyes as you did. "I was unfair 'n a nuisance," your words fall over one another, drowsiness bleeding into them as a result of exhaustion from everything that has taken place. "None of it was your fault."

The wine god earnestly thinks for a moment, as tingles travel up his arm from where you started unconsciously drawing idle circles on the back of his hand. A part of him hurts still—both of you are. “You have the right to be upset over what you just learned.” he began, one hand freeing itself from your hold only to caress your cheek. “I can only hope you'll be able to heal from it soon.”

A mellow beat of silence follows suit, as your eyes softly stare back, warm, grateful, and lost in thoughts as you mull over his words. “Thank you,” you whisper, simple words running deeper as the ghost of a smile lingering on your lips.

Encouraged by a twinkle of soft endearment in your eyes, the wine god rests his forehead against yours, savoring the moment while you let him. Hoseok doesn’t think you’re even aware of how beautiful you look in the dim moonlight like this. With lips only mere inches apart, too, the wine god thinks he's never faced such temptation ever before in his life. Practicing poise unbecoming of the wild-hearted spirit he once was, he settles for a mere kiss on the crown of your head. His lips linger there for a moment, and though he didn't want to part just yet, he does so in order to guide you towards the bed. “Sleep,” he casually urges, “you need it.”

Exhaustion easily comes to you as soon as you hit the covers, eyelids heavy as you try and keep them open. Your hand keeps its loose hold on his, a slight tug wordlessly inviting him to stay with you. "Don't leave," you tenderly say, eyes pleading with him in such a way that it effectively disarms any semblance of reason in his head.

Indulging you and himself, the wine god takes the space next to you (unlike last time). Once the blankets have been laid out over your bodies, Hoseok finally rests his head on the pillow. You face one another with your hands still interlocked together, in spite of the shy boundary existing in between the rest of your bodies.

“Good night, princess,” he quietly murmurs into the darkness of the night, thumb drawing shapes on your skin as you did his. “I’ll be right here with you.”

The moment you wake up, however, an empty space greets you.

Try as you might, the void in your heart persists as you muster the strength to sit up from the bed, the sleep weighing down your bones slowly dissipating the more your consciousness returns to the real world. The search for warmth—for his presence—was so instant, it was practically instinct.

This wasn’t the first time you woke up alone. Why does his absence bother you so?

Pieces of last night come to your mind. Athens, Athena herself, and the confrontation, make your heart hurt more for a moment, but, at the same time, the sweet words, the tender kiss to the forehead, and the comfort of his hand came to you. Though vague and a bit blurry in between, the feeling of it never escapes you, sending you furiously blushing as you bury your head into your palms.

Gods, get a hold of yourself, (Y/N).

The faint sound of music from outside soon draws your attention—a song sounding so familiar. In an instant, your brows furrow together in confusion.

Ultimately, your mind once again wanders to the wine god you spent the night crying to. You need to talk, especially now that you’re sober and a bit better with reining in your emotions. Your head pounds, a sensation you’re very much familiar with, but by some miracle, you manage to get yourself together, and head out into the world a bit presentable.

“Hoseok?” you tentatively call out, looking around the forest that surrounds your cavern for the music.

“I’m sorry to disappoint, princess.”

Heart nearly leaping from your chest, you immediately turn around towards the source of the voice and the hearty laugh you just heard—the speed of which sends a spike of pain to your head. You see Silenus, the old satyr leaning against a nearby tree with his pan flute in hand and a teasing grin. He must've been the one playing the tune. "I apologize," you stammer, flustered to have been caught in such a way. “What brings you here?” 

Silenus' smile turns a bit warmer. "A little bird told me to keep watch while he's away," he knowingly says, making your heart skip a beat then and there.

Hoseok?

In spite of the dulling headache, you hold back the urge to go back inside, sleep, and simply wait till the wine god comes back. Instead, you approach the satyr, gathering strength to converse. "Where did he go?" You ask, bashful still but you waited for answers anyway.

"Somewhere," the satyr simply shrugs, and you're left with disappointment you cannot voice aloud. You settle for a seat by a protruding tree root not too far from where Silenus sat.

The moment you sat down, the old man wastes no time to strike conversation. “I heard a lot happened last night,” he hums good-naturedly. “What troubles you still, princess?”

Consciously, you think to yourself if the frown and furrowed brows had settled so naturally on your face for him to have noticed. Either way, whether it was because you needed another set of eyes on the situation, or you needed to vent out what's left of your ire, you tell Silenus the events that unfolded last night—Hoseok taking you to Athens, meeting Athena, confronting Theseus and Phaedra, and learning the truth. “I know the fault isn’t his. I just…” you eventually sigh, struggling to put your emotions into words. “I just feel toyed with?"

Life, in the end, is very much like the palace you grew up in—an elaborate game with harsh rules you must follow to survive. Yet another role was thrusted into your hands to play—a sacrifice? a scrap for the taking?

"Some part of me finds it hard to look at him the same way I once did, but at the same time…”

I'm not entirely against it—

No. You can't say that.

Beside you, Silenus nods, taking in the implications of your words in spite of you not knowing exactly what you mean to say. For once, you realize, he looks a bit more serious. "Well, the Fates toy with everyone," he eventually comes to say, "thread mingling with thread, stubborn knots ruining a patch or two, but in the end, when all the threads are cut, the loom displays the grand tapestry that bears all of the fruits of the game we played—be it good or tragic."

The talk of the Fates brings back a frown on your lips. The strands have a life of their own, full of potential and calling to one another as they’re spun, guided, and cut by each of the Fates. "What if I don't want to play the game of looms and threads anymore?" you dared to idly wonder aloud as you pulled your knees closer to you. It was an ugly thought, you know, but you've been left too exhausted to stop them from resurfacing, dreading how long Lachesis intended to pull along the thread meant for you when it’s so frayed with misery—how long you’d have to be weaved into the tapestry of humanity for before your thread finally meets Atropos' shears.

It’s the satyr who frowns this time, setting his pan flute aside. "One may unravel as a stray thread, but it's one without any other color," he wisely tells you, "without life."

You mull the words over, a bitterness coming over you now that the unkind demons got the better of you. Your part of the tapestry will be ugly anyway, it cruelly hisses—a vile comment a bigger part of you agrees with.  "I play terribly with the game of life," you cross your arms over your knees as you idly look into the wilderness spanning out before you.

"Then learn to play better,” Silenus chides, meaning well but it slaps you awake all the same. “It depends on who you play with, does it not?"

Threads calling to other threads allow for millions of possibilities to take shape, lingering around one another until an ultimate choice intertwines two or more together in a game of who wins or loses with their experiences. "The Fates can give us an array of colors to entangle with and Hoseok, that silly boy," the satyr grins with a fond shake of his head, "is vibrant—a great thread and playmate to be entangled with, if you ask me."

No truer words have been said, and because it was the truth, you can't deny yours either. "But I don't understand why I can ever be entangled with him in the first place," you counter, still playing along with the thread analogy. "I'm dull compared to him."

The thread of the gods must be glowing and gilded compared to that of mortals. Even at your very best, you don't think you could ever even amount to him.

The satyr sighs, sparking shame from your conscience. "You ask too many questions, princess," he shakes his head and stares down at you. “What if that’s why you were given the chance to be entangled with him, hm?”

You gawk at the old man, preparing for a stern lecture but he maintains a softer, passionate manner. "The two of you compliment one another in many ways," he says so surely, so confidently that it flusters you. "He's wild and you're tame, and so, you teach him how to calm down while he coaxes you out of your shell."

"You both tend to forget yourselves, but look out for the other," he adds, rendering the blush on your face to be worse. "You're practically attached by the hip, too!"

Ultimately, Silenus's words leave themselves ingrained in your head and bring your butterflies to life. "He very much wants to be in your life, and you, in spite of everything else, deprive yourself of him—of all of this."

Is it really depriving?

You think to yourself if your aversion to the divine and your scars from love had indeed led you to this cruel state of mind—of depriving yourself of companionship from someone else. The more you think of it, the more the denial retaliates against the realization. You can't, right? That sort of thing would mean you lo—oh, gods. Do you really?

Seeing your eyes blown wide, lost in arguing thoughts, Silenus knocks down your doubts some more. "Would it really be so bad to play this game of life with him?" he asks, half sincere and half temptingly.

The question begs you to envision it—a life accepting your sacrifice to Naxos and living with Hoseok. When all wounds heal into fading scars and all ache lay buried beneath many happy memories, when your body is spent contently exhausted from gatherings and shenanigans, when you continue to stand at the end of Hoseok's bright, endearing smile for the rest of your life, would it truly be so terrible of a life?

“No,” the word leaves your lips whimsically, a soft smile tempting your lips at the thought of such things. “I don’t suppose it would.”

If Hoseok were to let you leave Naxos—and he undoubtedly would do it for your sake if you so desired it—then, where would you even go? Who else would you run to?

Silenus grins at you seeing the light out of the darkness. “There you have it then,” he concludes, bringing his hands together in a satisfied clap.

In spite of what's left of your emotions still left with questions unanswered, you are, nonetheless, grateful for the time he spent to impart his advice to you. “Thank you, Silenus,” you say, "and I'm sorry."

The old satyr waves it off nonchalantly, picking up his flute once again to play. This leaves you seeking your own peace and quiet to think more things through—especially that question. “I’ll be going then,” you bid him farewell, pushing yourself up from where you sat and dusting off your wrinkled dress.

It was only when Silenus noticed you were walking away from the cave instead of towards it that he spoke again. “Where are you off to?” he calls out, compelling you to turn around with a reassuring smile after recalling him saying he was here under a favor for the wine god.

“The beach,” you tell him, pointing towards a direction you knew all too well. “Just for a walk. You needn't come with me.”

You need time alone to confirm something to yourself—confirm what your true feelings for the wine god are. Silenus seemed to have understood this need for contemplation, as he simply nodded and remained where he was, readily waiting just as he had waited before you woke up.

With barely any effort, the walk to the beach easily becomes a nostalgic one. Under the canopy of towering trees that used to be so terrifying and foreign to you that stormy night, your feet now wander with a mind of its own, already knowing the path by heart. The sound of the waves that soon reach your ears pluck at your heartstrings in a beautiful melody, and the moment your shoes dip onto the sand, a shiver runs down your spine.

Months ago this was merely some island you were marooned on, and now, it’s everything to you. You know well who’s to blame for this sweet, homely feeling—who’s made it easy to fall in love with this place and hard to ever truly hate for what else it had meant.

A sigh follows one deep breath as you look at the shore, envisioning where the camp had once been—where the Fates had led your thread to meet the stranger wine god. In the struggle within your heart, acceptance was beginning to turn the tide.

Yes, this is your reality now. This is ho—

"Halt!"

Once again, the living daylights were scared out of you, and this time, your heart had reason to pound erratically. In the distance were a group of men, armed with bows and armored in leather. At first, you thought them to be hunters, but as they approached you with the arrows drawn and some with hands on the hilt of the swords on their waist, you began to see familiar faces among them.

Soldiers from Crete.

You were torn between the urge to run and the instinct to stay put, knowing well you won't get far with this many people hunting you down. The latter, however, wins as fear aids to paralyze you. You did your best to seem as collected and civilized as you could, whilst their weapons raised menacingly against you. "So you've found me," it was a surprise to you how you manage to say it so steadily and calmly in one fell swoop. Deep down, you're terribly frightened.

A beat of silence passes.

One of them, you notice, gives discreet commands to another of, what you think, a lesser rank. You're as taut as the bows drawn against you, watching intently as the aforementioned soldier leaves the scene—to rally more of their comrades, you realize.

The moment one of them breaks the silence and makes a charge towards you, you finally feel your body move in response, quickly grabbing sand and throwing it to the soldier's face. As he yelps and clutches his face, you try and make a grab for the sword that fell from his hand, but the slightest touch to the bronze blade was thwarted by a powerful force from your side that sends you flying away from it.

Harshly landing on the sand, your whole body feels on fire. Your chest burns from the half scream and half gasp that escapes you, clutching your side as the pain from the kick brings immediate tears to your eyes. No, you refuse to go down like this. Hoseok, Agrios, Silenus —You have to get back to them. You have to.

You muster all the strength to push yourself from the sand, only to be met with more weapons drawn at you. "Surely, I'm not the only one accountable for this," you sneer at them, chest still heaving. "Father better also have sent his crude soldiers to Athens."

A strong hand yanks your hair upwards, eliciting a pained scream from your mouth. "You're but a felon now," the soldier spat as your thrashing was no match for his vice strong grip. "We do not owe you respect."

Among them was a man who you recognize as a captain of the guards. He has his eyes set on you, stepping closer to tell you a news that shocks you to your core. "The king's dead, princess," he says, voice cold, eyes piercing, and hand guiding his sword to your neck as he watches your eyes widen.

Since your abandonment, you didn't really expect to be able to hear of your father's fate, but you suppose his deeds would've eventually caught up to him as he deserved it.

Two soldiers roughly held you up by either arms, caging you as their leader continued. "Shortly after you fled with the Athenian bastard, he was slain while looking for Daedalus and his son," the captain told you, digging the blade to your skin where it draws a thin red rivulet. "We are here to give him justice."

In spite of your body responding to everything with telling signs of fear—trembling frame, streaming tears, and pounding heart—you speak defiantly and just as harsh. "This is no justice!" you grit through your teeth, raising your head high to glare back at the men surrounding you. "Father's greed is to blame for his own downfall—deceiving Poseidon, getting mother cursed, and having the Minotaur ruin the innocent lives of many. They all lead back to him and you're all as blind as bats if you think otherwise!"

(It's also your father's fault that he managed to build a strong army loyal to him, and now, even in death, he makes life difficult for you.)

The captain's glare turned murderous, nose flaring. "How dare you!" He roared, raising his sword in the air as a look of horror flashed in your eyes.

In spite of your best efforts to escape—wriggling around like a madwoman, stepping harshly on their feet—it's futile, your head instinctively looking away as you wait for the blade to come.

This is it.

This is the end of you.

The wine god's eyes eagerly search for the familiar clearing, and, in his haste, the whole chariot shakes at the rough landing he had gotten himself. Hoseok sees Silenus under the tree where he left him, lips parting from the pan flute to grin at the young god. "Will you finally tell me where in the world you snuck off to this time?" The old satyr stands back on his hooves and rests his hands on his hips in a playful scolding.

"Just somewhere," Hoseok simply shrugs, but the smirk on his lips betrays the supposed casualness of his absence. In truth, he visited Aphrodite and Eros for a little favor. After all, by the wine god's rules, one can easily earn themselves just about anything if one offers great wine and drama.

(The goddess of love was surely not happy with what Theseus had done. He won't be getting any luck with love or lust any time soon—or ever.)

Never the matter, that's the least of his priorities now. “Has (Y/N) woken up yet?” Hoseok asks, wordlessly dismissing the leopards to rest from their trip—save for Agrios who decided to linger.

Silenus' smug grin brings heat to the wine god’s cheeks. “Ah, yes,” the old satyr nonetheless answers, “just a while ago. Had a lot of things on her mind, that one.”

The talk, the kiss, Hoseok immediately thinks, anticipation setting his entire being ablaze. “Where is she then?” he’s quick to ask, his eyes set on the first place he could see, the cavern.

Instead of that, however, Hoseok watches as the satyr gestures to a direction he knew all too well. “The beach,” Silenus tells him, “gone for a walk she says. If you hurry along, you two might go for a little swim together, heh?”

Hoseok could only roll his eyes at Silenus' words (though he does give the fantasy a thought or two). He wastes no time to walk forth with Agrios quietly following suit. There’s something in the air that makes his insides twist. Is it his anxiousness over talking with you again? Will you leave? Will you stay?

“I don’t look too much of an idiot as of now, yes?” the wine god jests to his spotted beast for his sake, a nervous chuckle forced past his lips. Agrios, who can’t talk in the first place, does well to give Hoseok an unimpressed look without even trying, walking ahead without being bothered by the pout the wine god gives him.

“A little support would b—”

A growl reached his ears, cutting his whine short as the sight of Agrios’ alert and defensive stance worsens the terrible feeling in his stomach. All too suddenly, the wine god’s face falls serious, realizing the leopard was glaring towards the beach. “What is it?” he whispers to the beast, cautiously approaching the beach with Agrios.

The moment he heard the pained scream and yelling, Hoseok's heart dropped.

The moment he saw a blade levied against you, Hoseok's body leapt into action.

The moment he had you at arm’s length, Hoseok's mind could only ever think of shielding you.

"(Y/N)!"

Hoseok, assured by the sight of Agrios coming to your aid and mauling any soldier who dared to come at you both, is quick to use the time to look over you as your shaken knees make you fall onto the sand. The moment he hears a whimper and sees the tears, the pounding fear in his heart gives way for rage. This allowed him to focus on what’s left of the men that surrounded you, all three currently hesitant with the spotted beast daring them to so much as take another step forward.

Hoseok is terrifying when he wants to.

"You dare come to hurt her?" he drawls, his furious presence easily towering all over them with his piercing eyes seemingly rendering them frozen where they stood. There’s been a change in the air—tense, heavy, and almost suffocating. 

Though their swords and bows begin shaking in their grip, the soldiers remain headstrong in arrogance. “Our business isn’t with you,” the captain tries to negotiate, weapon still drawn. “Give us the woman and we’ll leave you be.”

The laughter that falls past Hoseok’s lips sends a shiver down even your spine. “What makes you think I’ll do as you say?” he dares them, taking another step forth.

An arrow is fired.

Whether it was done intently or instinctively by one of the soldiers, it nonetheless managed to graze Hoseok’s exposed arm and narrowly missed your head. There's a look of fear that sets in their eyes, seeing golden ichor instead of crimson blood running down Hoseok's skin from where the arrowtip struck. 

In that instant, they come to realize the grave mistake they’ve made.

All of them fall to their knees, their weapons making a pathetic thud on the sand. Their lips quiver, trying to scramble strings of apologies together but they make no comprehensible noise, all as the wine god proceeds to glare down at them. If they're so bent on such filthy violence, Hoseok decided, then he'll give them the carnage they so seek.

One by one, what's left of the men began screaming, pointing at each other with madness and fear in their eyes. Their own thinking and frenzy fuel the work of Hoseok's curse upon them, and they start running around one another with their weapons drawn.

What horrifying feat befalls them at their own hands, you didn't have the chance to know (nor would you ever want to) as a figure kneels down before you. Shaking hands caress your face, gently guiding you to meet eyes with pools of endless worry. “Are you alright?” he asks, chest heaving as he did.

The most you could muster was a numb nod, thoughts still frazzled from everything that went wrong on your supposed peaceful, reflective walk on the beach. Before you was an unconvinced god, remnants of his rage seething like demons and insisting that the curse on the soldiers wasn’t enough.

That’s the least important matter at hand right now, he reminds himself. Gathering you in his arms and calling for Agrios, Hoseok doesn't waste any more time and usher you away from the scene. The moment he makes the journey towards the forest however, he feels your hand squeeze him tighter.  

"Don't," you say, eyes finally seeking his, but they’re filled to the brim with fear and urgency.

Immediately concerned, Hoseok stops in his tracks. "Why?" he asks, setting you down with the intent to look over your body more closely. "Is something wrong? Are you hurt?"

Your hands tremble where they came to hold onto his arms. "No," you shake your head, looking towards the forest. "More are coming."

Hoseok dismissed the worry, no doubt ready to argue he can deal with them and so you quickly retorted. "What if they're in the forest?” you pour out the predictions you’ve constructed in your head. “What if they see the cavern and come back with even more soldiers?"

For a moment, the wine god contemplates this. Even if more do come, Olympus would have to fall first before he’d even consider the thought of letting them take you away, but right now, you need assurance and time to calm down. Looking over to the leopard in a wordless conversation, the two of them share a look of agreement and after a gentle brushing against your skirts in a comforting farewell, the big cat heads into the forest without another word.

Before you could wonder where Agrios was going, Hoseok intertwined his fingers with yours, gently tugging you along a different direction—the pool cavern.

The cavern looks as pristine as you remember, and the fond memories effectively ease your nerves. Hoseok walks over to the wooden chest you two brought here a few days around the return of spring, and fishes out a linen cloth to drape over your shoulders. "You can stay here," he tells you, as he brushes your hair back. "I'll see to it that they'll never come back here again."

Chewing at your lips, you mull over what words to say. His protection warms your heart, but the thought of being a nuisance twists it all the same. You let yourself fall forth to embrace him. "Be careful," you murmur against his chest, and he responds with a squeeze—a wordless assurance that he will, for you.

Your sole purpose here in the cavern pool was safety, and yet, you all but feel emptiness the moment the wine god leaves.

Hours passed, the sun settling high in the sky and well into the afternoon. You’ve taken a seat on the edge of the pool, your calves submerged in the water lapped by gentle ripples made by your lightly swinging feet.

It was fortuitous that the silence you’ve been given here has allowed you to do the reflecting that was cut so short by the ambush earlier on.

Before you were so rudely interrupted, you had been warming to the idea of accepting your fate to be in Naxos, and the events that had taken place had only served to further engrave the sentiment into your heart.

Have you gone mad?! You should be scared! the old part of you hisses from its derelict shell. Have you forgotten what divine wrath did to your life? 

Perhaps, you have gone mad.

(What kind of sane person has a heart that skips a beat at the thought of a god cursing someone who dared to harm them, or dare to get even a little bit of satisfaction out of it?)

A new battle brews between mortification and shamelessness at your change in lens towards Hoseok. This was hardly the time for it, you remind yourself. There is much to be done with your father’s loyalist at your tail.

In spite of your best efforts, the time continues bringing your heart’s utter affection for Hoseok and everything on this island to light and clarity, and you grow all the more weary with waiting. You wonder how Hoseok was faring with the soldiers—how everyone else in the forest would be. Mortals may not truly, fatally harm gods, but they are still capable of destruction, and you’d hate for Naxos to fall into trouble if any word of your being here were to get out.

The sound of footsteps makes you jump from your skin, anxiously anticipating who would appear at the entrance with a million questions running through your mind a minute.

The moment you see Hoseok's familiar face, however, relief washes over you, so much so that tears brim your eyes. "You're back," you breathlessly whisper, having enough of your restraint left to stop yourself from pushing up from the edge of the pool and running to him.

It’s a dilemma that solves itself, however, as the wine god, himself, comes to you with a small smile. Hoseok, too, wordlessly rids himself of his shoes and sits at the edge of the pool, easing his legs into the water. "I've sent out people around the island," he informs you as gazed down at your obscure reflections in the water. "We’ve managed to capture a few, but we haven’t a clue yet if there are still others left. We'll have to wait here for news till then."

You could only nod, putting faith in his word as he’s always done his best to fulfill them.

"How are you faring?"

The question was something you expected, especially when the concern in his eyes never went away. "Well enough," you try to dismiss with an assuring smile, but a fleeting glance to his solemn face condemns you to admit just a little bit of truth. "Just a bit sore."

You carefully brush your hand to the side from when the soldier had kicked you away. There was a dull ache that spread across your torso, spiking pain if you breathed a little too deeply.

The grimace on your face as you did so doesn't elude the wine god. “I'll call over Yoongi as soon as I can,” he urgently says, about to leave his place beside you if it weren't for the hand you placed on his knee, compelling him to stay. Hoseok does as you wordlessly ask, but the furrow in his brows remain along with fleeting glances at your side.

His company alone is doing more than he can ever realize, the comforting silence doing well to ease your heart. "Thank you," you speak into the silence after a while, eyes soft with gratitude and a little something more. "For coming to my aid," you further elaborate, but soon correct yourself, "for always coming to my aid."

Hoseok's frown softens, a fond look comes with casual shrug. "I always will," he tells you like it's an absolute truth of the world.

The wine god shifts closer towards you and reaches forth, hand so tenderly on your cheek that you lean into it. His thumb rests just below your eyes, readily there to wipe away teardrops should they come. You, however, hold them back as you muster the strength to tell him what had happened. "My father's dead," you tell him with only a fleeting hint of remorse and a momentary shake. "He died pursuing the architect of the labyrinth and his son," you say, "and they were here for his just revenge."

Hoseok's eyes grew dark at the mention of the soldiers and their twisted sense of justice. "You needn't worry," he declares, "I—we won't let that happen."

The correction he makes to himself twitches your lips upward. "I know," you hum, eyes telling him of the confidence you have for his promise. Hoseok has never failed you before, and even if he didn't you wouldn't dare to hold it against him.

You rest your head on his shoulder, his hand falling onto your lap where it intertwines with your fingers. Returning your gaze to the waters, you abide the time by watching the ripples that form at every languid move of your feet. You pretend not to feel his thoughtful gaze, or feel your own butterflies as you relish idly playing with his fingers.

"(Y/N)?"

Your name falls from his lips, soft yet with a hint of hesitance. Sparing him any intimidation your eyes staring into his might bring, you simply squeeze his hand in assurance. "Hm?" you all but hum in response.

There's a beat of silence—one, two.

"Marry me."

In an instant, you lift your head from his shoulder and look at him for any signs of jesting, only to find none. Instead, you see redness spread across his face as he brings his other hand to fiddle at the lobes of his ear. He's nervous.

Gods, what about you then?! Shock doesn’t even begin to describe what you were feeling. Wha—

Hoseok is quick to sense your frenzied emotions, using the stunned silence to his advantage. “I know it’s what you’ve been left here for in the first place, and the memories of what that bastard did pains you, but I want you to marry me out of your own volition,” he practically vomits all his words, but he's fortunate your heart and mind's utter intrigue over all of this has compelled you to clung onto every word. “I want you to know that I crave to have your being next to mine, regardless of what had transpired for it to happen.”

To hear such words in such desperation, you were taken aback. It may have slid into a passing fantasy once, but it never occurred to you that Hoseok would feel this passionately for you. Gods, you didn't think he'd feel anything strong enough to actually ask for your hand!

The wine god forgoes his anxious habits and has both hands seize yours, both in an attempt to ground himself and in a plea for you to heed his confession—to listen should he never have the guts to spill his heart out ever again. “The moment your heart began to open, I all the more knew you were meant for something greater than how you were treated,” he proceeds to attest, “You're beautiful to me—most beautiful—and when I saw your tears, your grief, there was—is—a strong urge in me to bring a smile onto your face—something that told me you were much more radiant with happiness, instead of melancholy.”

The tears stinging your eyes were becoming difficult to fight back. You look at the god before you, still unsure of what to say. Every word strikes your weary heartstrings, and you could hardly breathe with how blissfully painful it is for your cruel demons.

He wants you to be his? The remnants of your old self can't take it, too skeptical to ever give in to the temptation of love.

Hoseok still tightly holds your hands in his, and you swear you could feel his palms sweating. “If you would so please be my wife, (Y/N),” he tells you, almost pleading in a way desperate mortals would. “I will do my very best to take all of your sorrows away.”

The panicked outcries of your old self—that poor, unfortunate runaway princess—falls into the abyss, only to land onto the plush, homely foundation that is the paradise of Hoseok's affections and yours.

This once-stranger, who saved you on that beach, had stayed with you on this damned island when he could've easily carried on his way.

This wine god, who made you feel worthy of love, had not only made you love him, but also love you.

This Hoseok, who you’ve known through months of splendor, loves you with all of his divine being—loves you more than Theseus ever could.

Hoseok watches as your eyes turn glossy and it all the more makes him despair. “Though I may not reign amidst those in Olympus,” his breath staggers, but determination reigns true in his eyes, “I swear that I shall treasure you and provide to you the life a goddess deserves.”

Your eyes widened even more, tears had long been falling down your cheeks. This is all too much for your heart to withstand.

No longer able to bear holding everything in, you inch closer towards him. “Hoseok, you of all people know well that my heart is in pieces,” your breath trembles. "How much it has lost faith in things such as love."

At that moment, his smile falters.

At that moment, he curses Silenus, Yoongi, and himself for ever hoping.

At that moment, he thought it was all for naught.

“But you're a warmth I will forever be grateful for,” you softly declare, caressing his cheek with a smile and shattering his thoughts. “Frankly, I don’t think you deserve someone like me. I am but a mere mortal compared to you—imperfect, broken, and still hurting,” you tell him, "will you still love me in spite of it?"

"I already do," Hoseok affirms it so ardently that it makes you breathlessly chuckle. "I love you with all of my heart. I'll give you anything," he vows, voice falling so soft you could barely hear it, "even Olympus itself."

He will seize a grand seat on Olympus, one way or another. You will lay on the softest of pillows and dress in the prettiest of silks. You will dine full and drink to your heart's content. You will be there with him and his mother in a palace, safe and sound. “That way, no one will come between us,” he asserts, claiming such a future into fruition. “No one will ever harm you again.” 

Fury burned in every word he swore before you, unbecoming of the carefree, grinning man you knew him to be. "There's no need for such lengths," you tell him, eyes soft and endearing as you shake your head at him. You need not the glory of Olympus or the crown of a queen or a goddess. All you could ever ask is to be with him—be loved by him. "This mortal is already yours," you profess, "yours alone."

With a hitched breath, shock befell the wine god—as if your words were so hard to believe, as if he hadn't at all expected you to love him all the same.

Soon, however, his wide eyes are broken by a joyful grin, his senses coming to reality. He wastes no time pulling you into his arms, the motion of which sends a momentary shock of pain through you. The both of you are reminded of your aching side, and Hoseok, immediately frantic, pulls away in a hurry, clumsily sending you both into the cold water.

Damn that soldier for ruining the moment.

Resurfacing with a gasp, you find him with his wet tresses stuck to his mortified face, which compels you to fix your own wet hair. “Are you alright?!” he asks, still oblivious to his ridiculous appearance as he keeps you at an arm's length to look you over.

With the pain long gone, you couldn't help the endearing laugh that escapes your lips as you sweep his hair back from his forehead like you did yours. A soft smile becomes his wordless assurance, which slowly eases the furrow in his brows.

He then saves face by reaching out to you, this time carefully pulling you into his arms. Your legs secure around his waist and Hoseok happily spins the two of you around, the water easily allowing the both of you to float idly. You gleefully laugh once more, and he nuzzles his head into the side of your face, planting a trail of kisses in his wake. "I've been yours," Hoseok's lips tenderly swears this against your skin, pulling away to look at you with eyes twinkling brightly. "I'll always be yours."

In no time, his lips captured yours in a sweet and soft dance that sent the butterflies in your belly soaring. There's a faint, salty taste of the sea on your lips, and the grip he has around your waist tightens in the name of protectively pulling you closer. Your hands find purchase around his neck, taking the time to weave your fingers through his black tresses. Your heart racing even more as your head goes light with bliss. You could hardly think at the moment.

Hoseok, sensing your human need for air, pulls away to let you breathe, forehead resting against yours as you were left gasping. “I meant every word I said,” he then murmurs against your lips. “I’ll make you a goddess, my love.”

Your heart skipped a beat as your mind drifted to an indecipherable haze. You realize now that even without his wine, you were drunk—drunk in his love and devotion.

His fingers dance along your arms until both hands weave themselves with yours, unraveling your hold around his neck. “I will etch my name all over Greece, so much that they can no longer ignore it,” he vows, a certain maddened mischief sparking in his eyes as he raises a brow at you. “Will you join me?”

You realize then that your hands and body have been pinned against something—one of the cave's walls—as your newfound lover awaits your response. A shiver runs down your spine—an indication of thrill.

Mirroring his spirit, you grin and lean close. “Of course, I will, silly,” you muse, playfully rolling your eyes as you lean away just a little inch to look at him with such soft eyes that it makes him melt. "Wherever you go," you sweetly hum, forehead resting against his, "I'll be there, just as you have been with me."

Hoseok's grin is instant, shining brightly like the sun. "What an honor," he blissfully sings, lovingly tugging you into his arms and lips yet again.

In the loom of life, a bright thread fully weaves with a dull one, effectively making it brighter, too, and from now till eternity, they’ll be strands entangled together.

What a blessed woman you are.

𝓹𝓻𝓮𝓿 ◁ | END.

𝓽𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽: @dreamamubarak @unknownwalkingobject @park-jimin-isnt-real

[ladyazulina]

Linney's Campaign

Masterpost - Campaign Page

🌸 Spring 1 🌸

Weather: Stormy ⛈️

Previous Part: Let's not get drenched anymore, please

Who's this?

Word Count: 2.386.

It was not a complete failure, despite arriving in the middle of a storm. This person, whatever their name is, was somewhat slightly helpful, guiding me to someone, Orion, in the valley, who could provide me with more information regarding the letter.

I hope so, because the truth is that I don't have any more leads… Or maybe I do, though it’s only just one, but I would feel a thousand times more comfortable if I don't have to use it.

“Well,” I look up at the woman behind the counter, “the good news is that he will be arriving soon…” She opens and closes her hands, excited.

“He?”

“The better news,” she points at me while she walks out, “is that I have an assortment of hot beverages to help with your inside freezing,” she stops at the end, drumming her long-nailed fingers against the surface, “how does it sound?” She hums.

“Oh,” I blink. “That really does sound good,” I murmur.

Her smile widens and she makes an arm gesture behind me. There are only a bunch of tall tables and reclining chairs, so I really hope I’m not misunderstanding this and that she does want me to sit down.

I take a few steps back to do so in the nearest chair and she doesn’t seem particularly displeased. I accommodate myself just a tiny bit.

“What’s your poison? Hot cocoa? Tea?”

I can’t help but smile at the hint of her own species.

“Hot cocoa, please.”

“It won’t take long,” she smiles, going back again towards that hallway, carrying the folded towel with her, “please get comfortable and try to rest. You will warm up pretty soon!”

She disappears under the arch and it’s like she took with her all the assurance. Should I just be sitting here quietly while feeling this cold inside? Shouldn’t I stand up and move and jump and try to get back the warmth the storm stole from me? The magicked towels and the light spheres are helping a lot with the outside part, but is on the inside the danger.

After days of traveling, with each step carrying its own obstacle, I reached my destination only to end like a popsicle?

“I’m baaaaack~”

I look at the scorpionkin woman wide-eyed. Am I losing the passing of time already?!

She’s smiling broadly, with a small circular tray that only has one wooden-like mug with a few marshmallows decorating the top in the exact middle between her hands. I’m feeling a little warmer just looking at it, and I haven’t caught sight of the steam yet.

“Did you rush it?”

She leans in so I don’t have to move to take the mug. It’s so warm to the touch that I don’t think, I bring it against my chest, as if the warmth is going to go through me directly to my frozen core. The sweet scent of the spices –not all precisely sweet if I’m not mistaken– envelopes me in a cozy embrace.

“How do you believe that?” She laughs softly, waving a hand while taking down the other with the empty tray, moving it behind her back to hold it there. So professional. “I left some water boiling when I went inside before, so I just had to finish the drink,” she smiles.

I nod a bit, bringing the mug to my lips to take a sip. It’s not precisely hot, and it warms its way right where the magical external warmth can’t reach. I sigh, delighted.

“Good, right?” She chuckles, going back to leave the tray on the counter.

“Uh…” A sudden thought makes me wrinkle my nose. “I don’t want to ask, but… is this cocoa also magicked?”

She turns to face me, her whole corporal language changing. I can see the guilt all over her face, on her slumped shoulders, on the intertwined hands behind her back, on her brushing the tip of her foot against the floor, and even in the slightest lean of her tail towards one of her shoulders.

She did it. She magicked my cocoa.

“Just a tiny bit,” she brings two fingers so close that almost touch.

Is that why I find it so delicious?

“We use that mix sometimes in winter,” she’s quick to explain herself, “I had a bit still stored. It serves a lot to warm quickly, especially if the cold isn’t on the outside,” she plays with her fingers, her eyes down. “You said you were freezing inside, so I thought it would fit like a glove,” she finishes in a murmur.

I just smile, surprising even to me. I can’t say it didn’t help.

“Thank you,” I bring the mug closer to take another sip.

“Aren’t you mad?” She looks up at me, surprised, and I let her see my smile.

“Not at all,” I shake my head. “I would have loved if you told me beforehand, but you meant well and did great.”

“Oh, my Serket! I’m so glad!” She hops around, clapping.

“You have to promise me!” I raise my voice, stretching one hand to point at her. She stops in her track immediately. “That you will let me know beforehand in the future.”

“Done!” She goes back to hop.

“Say it!” I insist, already fighting my smile, taking the mug with both hands again.

“I promise!” She sounds excited and I want to laugh.

“Say all the words!”

“I promise to let you know beforehand if I plan to magic your things in the future!”

I sigh, feeling like I can finally rest against the chair.

“Good,” I murmur. “That’s good.”

I don’t know if it took just seconds, but my eyelids close on their own and I guess that I lose track of time.

I know I have been drinking one little sip at a time.

I know that since the first one, I started, slowly but surely, to regain my own warmth.

I know that I probably nodded off. I don’t know, I didn’t leave the scorpionkin woman taking care of her things behind the counter.

Why haven’t we exchanged pleasantries yet?

I know that- A thunder rumbles, loud enough to make me jump in the chair but so far enough to have passed above our heads, just before the door opens. Though I look down almost instantly, relieved at the fact that I didn’t spill even a drop of what’s left of the cocoa on myself.

“Are you here already?~” The scorpionkin woman comes out from behind the counter in rhythmic hops, absolutely delighted.

But I’m not looking at the person at the door, rubbing his shoes against the entrance rug. I’m looking that, behind him, isn’t raining. Until a second before he closes the door, when the torrential splashes with force.

“You called,” his voice is so grave and deep that I have to look at him.

Have I gone crazy already or his voice feels warm?

“As if you came every time I call,” she sounds upset now, with her hands on her hips, but somehow her voice is farther from where she’s standing.

That guy is a demon. With blue skin, some red in his eye, one horn going around the side of his head, pointing slightly to the side from below his pointy ear. His wavy black hair brushes his jaw, covering his other eye… and maybe the fact that something else is missing there. I don’t see the matching horn and, somehow, I don’t feel like is lacking.

His lips curve in a snarl and his brows furrow and there, just there I can be sure that that’s his resting expression.

He’s prepared for the weather with a hoodie, long pants, and boots, though I don’t see an umbrella or something similar, his gloved hands are empty. Of course he didn’t bring anything, the rain stopped when he was out there.

… It did?

“Sweetie?” I blink, looking at the scorpionkin woman leaning in front of me, almost completely blocking my view of the demon, who’s also looking at me but with a raised brow. “Are you still here with us?”

“What did you give her?” He asks, barely a few steps away from the door, crossing his arms.

“Just cocoa,” she doesn’t look at him, moving her head just a little in his direction, “with a few drops of Cozy Inside.”

“To a human?” I see him raising an eyebrow again.

“They can handle it,” she searches in my face, “it was just a tiny bit.”

“I don’t see her handling it well.”

“Them,” I murmur.

The scorpionkin woman’s face lights up.

“What did she say?” He leans forward, not coming any closer.

“‘They say’,” she corrects him with pleasure, looking at me with a brilliant smile. “They’re probably feeling a lot better now, and it wasn’t too much, it’s not that they’re not handling it well,” she straightens. “It’s just that they went through a lot, they’re decompressing.”

The demon makes a face. “Why did you call me?”

“What’s your name?” I finally ask. I think I’m processing everything just a bit slower than normal, but working at a snail’s pace.

“You’re right!” The woman brings her hands together. “We didn’t introduce ourselves! I’m Leif,” she leans a bit again, her tail straight behind her, “and I’m the innkeeper, though I think you already know that. What’s your name?” She holds her hands, leaning to the side.

The demon snaps his tongue.

“Linney…”

“Linney,” she stretches both palms facing upward, “it’s a total pleasure to be your acquaintance.”

“Do you have to be that weird?” He exhales.

“That guy over there,” she points at him without breaking our gaze, “is our lovely, overly-friendly, neighborhood demon, Chase.” She turns to face him, frowning. “They’re Linney.”

He frowns too. “What do I-“ but she didn’t wait for him to finish, coming back to me. “-care…” He snorts.

“Chase is here for two reasons,” she explains to me, raising two fingers before lowering one. “The first one is because he’s our greatest Weather magician,” she nods, proud as if she’s the one she’s talking about. “The second one,” she brings back the second finger, “is that, besides being our greatest Weather magician, he also has an empty couch,” she moves a hand.

“What?” He barks.

As if that settles it.

“They need a place to stay, Chase,” she looks at him, sounding tired, “and you know I don’t have more rooms. You’re the only one I can think of that can make sure they don’t get wetter and have a place to crash,” he’s about to retort, but she rushes it, “at least until the storm passes.”

He swallows his answer and I look down at the rest of my cocoa –with no traces of marshmallows since a while– before I can cross glances with any of them. The mug is still warm. Magic, of course. And I finish drinking it down.

“We can look for another place for them to stay when we can all meet. Good enough for you?”

“Not even close,” he shows his pointy teeth.

Is that a fang?

I look at Leif, but her face’s so far away I can’t make her expression.

“Do we have a deal?” She repeats, adamant.

He growls. “Fine!”

And she melts right there and then.

“Ow! I knew I can count on you!” She gets closer to take his arm, but he dodges her and shows her his teeth.

“Don’t! Go to sleep,” he points to the hallway.

I blink, getting up, and she comes back to take the mug from my hand. “Were you sleeping?”

“Oh,” she waves her free hand. “I wish. This storm has wrecked my schedule…”

“I didn’t know the scorpions were a nocturnal species,” I take off the towel.

“We are,” she smiles at me, taking it too. “Not all of us, but the vast majority. Mine is.”

“It’s good to know,” I smile back.

“Are we going or not?” Chase barks, making me jump.

I look at him turning to the door and opening it, so I rush to the table by the back wall, putting quickly the socks and making the spheres come out by turning the boots to also put them on.

“Don’t be a devil and wait for them!” Leif shouts after him.

I get up and put everything back into the bag, taking as much care as possible at the same time. He can’t get too far away… right?

“I’m sorry, that’s who I am!”

He sounds far away already!

I reach the door in three strides but look back at Leif.

“Thank you so much for your kindness.”

At least for a second, she seems at a loss for words, though she recovers quickly.

“Thank you for your company. And don’t mind him, he’s not that bad!”

I sigh, wishing to be able to believe her. “We will see about that…”

I get out, closing the door behind me, and surprise myself noticing that it’s not raining. Again. I look up at the cloudy sky, the sound of the storm not so far until I find it falling on the buildings on the other side of the arch.

Weather magic, Leif called it.

And Chase is using only a bit of it to make his way rainless.

Definitely convenient…

“How much more are you going to stay there?” I hear him, seeing him close to a statue, which seems to be the center of a square.

He shakes his head, turning to continue walking past it. And I jump when I feel a few drops falling on me, not even looking up before running to try to catch him.

Try My Best! #2 Goal: Get to know my host! Act with… wits (+3) Action dice (1d6): 5 (+3) Action Score: 8 Challenge dice (2d10): 4 (✅) + 8 (❌) Result: Weak hit - I succeed but lose track of time. If this brings me closer towards fulfilling a promise, mark 1 tick on it. Then, Time Passes.

Time Passes #1 Whenever I lose track of time, mark 1 tick on the current day in the calendar. If this tick does not fill the box, envision how time got away from your character. If you spent quality time with a Townie, gain 1 favor with them. Then, continue playing. +1 favor with Leif.

Tagging: @aziz-reads

[julien5-malfunction]

14012025-2 Life update ig

So i'm back here, maybe. or maybe just in and out again.

I need the dark shit.

I know there exists some here.

It's what i'm after.

Could be the weather, been nostalgia tripping lately. I don't know what it is, the amount of light outside or the flavor of the air, maybe.

Hot chocolate, ciabatta and sun-dried tomatoes.

A rather poor diet, but that's what that was a year back. I'm on a new budget now. Government is cutting funds and they finally swayed the financial sword to my ankle. I'll be ok, maybe, but i have to change and adapt a bit. Cutting down on spending has been surprisingly easy.

50€ for a week and minor necessities, leftovers i can use for treats or less necessary things if i find some. A positive side effect of it is that i've thrown much less food away from going bad too soon. Now it simply won't have time to, and i actually have to make treats and proper food if i want some.

I found an artificial sweetener that you can bake with, and it's quite a game changer. I can make cake now, and eat it too.

...Though it might be good to keep the use to a minimum since it's not really healthy (carcinogenic).

Other than that, not that much has gotten better. i got a new apartment, in the same complex as the other one, just a bit larger so i can actually arrange the furniture somewhat functionally, and i like that i have a separate kitchen now. I'm pretty sure my health is taking a hit from me staying inside too much.

I'm just so god awful tired all the god damn time. The nurses and doctors won't give a shit about my anemia taking me to my grave here, since it's all fine on paper. Yet i'm not feeling any better, no matter how many times the recommended amount of iron i suppliment.

It's just not bad enough for the infusion treatment.

Psychiatry has fucked up totally but that'll be a rant for a different day, it's a bucket full of shit.

...

But by the looks of it we're getting trough the winter and i think i saw the sun the other day, but i went back to bed. Can't wait.

The spring sun has such an effect on me always. It's been dark for a long time now and i've been losing my fucking mind as of late, it's time to slowly try to get back to normalcy. Meeting people and such, going to weekly things. I'll see what my social worker has in store for me, i bet it's a bunch of false hope. Things have changed and i'm ground up by the gears of this machine i don't belong in, so i feel like.

...

It hasn't been as dark as the end of 2023. I didn't actually try to kms this time. Sadly i was sober too. But life is strange and it gave me a gift, as strange as it is, for sure. I have something in the works myself, still. I thought the experiment failed. It did not. Or at least not as badly as i had thought. Best way to put it: back to square 1, but not back to 0. It's a blessing, really. I feel like i don't have much room for error and then be granted a second chance like that. honestly. i think i cried. I thought i fucked it up. I've been trying to play it safe this time, take note of what didn't work, except i didn't take notes, which is dumb, but trying to remember what i messed up and avoiding that. There is slightly more pressure in the game now, it's not just for me anymore. I might be dumb for telling a few people, so far it's of no legal trouble, but i'll be fucked if the word gets out. But the deal is that they keep silent, and i'll provide them some once i have a stable process and enough back up material for myself in case of future fuck-ups.

I'll be vague about it. For the sake of my own safely. Don't worry about it though. It's only practice for me to learn to hide sensitive information in plain sight and avoid problems in the future. Since i clearly, like to talk about anything and everything that i find interesting, and have no filter in that. So, at least using coded language might lessen the issue.

I think that's all for this one.

I hope i can keep this alive, from what i remember, i used to do more actual things a year back and maybe i can find a spark of that in here.

More dead internet and offline time and less doomscrolling.

It's something i'm working on. I did pretty well for a day but yesterday and today's been a complete relapse.

I'll try to work on it. I really have to. Like. really. i have to.

The internet addiction is getting out of hand and having really notable effects rotting my brain, and it's really starting to make me unable to function at all anymore.

... till i have something worth while, then. Wishing all well.