#be nice please :]

[pinkcarabiner]

dykes only!

men dni

[candyredbloodshed]

kannys ^_^;

[vzmpyr3i]

i’d like a relationship but not in a sexual sorta way, kinda like being at peace with each others presence silently, both of us doing different things but still being aware of each other being there. There’s just some sort of comfort in being like that. Cuddle, but not in a romantic way, but in a way to appreciate each others warmth, more or so platonic. feeling at ease around them, not having to mask with them.

[tomboy420]

How would Rocky Rickaby be with an fem! reader who's very silent and withdrawn and who is a woman of ***very*** few words and reader is also albino (her fur is pure white and devoid of pigment) and they met by reader working as Lackadaisy's bookkeeper and accountant?

Rocky with an albino reader

~~

T.W. None

W.C. 627

~~

(Y/n): Your Name

~~

A/n: Heyy… little bit awkward… sorry I’m barely answering this… Iwasprocrastinatingforawhile- BUT! I then started working on another ask and then eventually started this one!… if that makes it any better for you… please forgive me, I don’t have much experience besides the other one, and I just planning out how I should go about this one! Better late than never… right?

~~~

When Rocky first laid eyes on you, he could see that you were unlike anyone he had ever encountered. Your fur, clean and untainted, set you apart. Your striking eye color further distinguished you from the rest.

When you first met, you crashed into each other as you were rushing with stacks of papers. Of course, it was an accident. As you quickly got up, you instantly grabbed the piles of papers on the ground, not acknowledging Rocky. As he slowly got up, he was slightly confused by how quickly everything happened. But eventually, you abruptly stopped what you were doing and looked up at him, “Sorry.” was all you said. You gazed into each other’s eyes, your face of surprise and concern, while Rocky’s was surprised and confused but soon turned to admiration. 

Not in a 'Love at first sight' sort of way, he just found you very beautiful.

Rocky noticed your fur was of no color, just white, and Rocky couldn’t take his eyes off you, even admiring the unique color in your eyes. You both stayed like that, sat on the floor, papers in your hands, most still on the floor, until Rocky brightly offered help like the gentleman he was. You accepted, and after everything settled, it was like a switch flipped: he excitedly told you his name, then asked for yours. He then asked a bucket’s worth of questions about you,

“What is it, for a dame such as yourself, to have such pure, unblemished fur?”

“Is the color of your eyesight tainted as the same hue of your eyes?”

“When you get dirtied, does your fur absorb it?”

Etcetera, Etcetera. He’ll ask anything out of pure curiosity, even if the question is absurd.

When you get to answer, you respond to the questions with simple words, just getting straight to the point.

“It’s called Albino,”

You shook your head,

“Strange… but no.”

That was another odd thing about you. You never really gave details, just small, simple answers, and that’s if you provided a verbal reply. Half the time, you just answered with hums or nods.

Of course, Rocky eventually discovers you aren’t trying to be rude with it and that he isn’t the only one you do it to. That’s just the way you are, a woman of few words.

He found out with everyone in the Lackadaisy —separately— saying you had the same behavior towards them after Rocky asked about you because you wouldn’t give much information about yourself.

After asking about you, he learned your role at the Lackadaisy was the bookkeeper

… To put it short, Rocky was more than impressed by you.

He found it fascinating how you navigated the complexities of numerical data and managed inventory with such skill and precision. The mere thought of tackling such responsibilities left him in awe; Rocky couldn't imagine where he would begin in that challenging task. And it also brought to light why you had so much paper when you ran into each other.

He began to read about albinism in medical books, wanting to know more about you and your condition.

From this, he learned the downsides of it. With such beauty comes the despair of it.

Like the moon: Its enchanting blue glow casts a mesmerizing light that blankets the world in a serene ambiance, inviting tranquility to flow through fields and streets as you wander. Yet, this luminescence can reveal the shadows lurking within, tempting some to exploit the darkness for their own gain.

To be concise, Rocky is mesmerized by you and your abilities to keep up the responsibilities of being a bookkeeper. He will always have an intense curiosity about you that never seems to show signs of waning, even as time passes.

~~

Again, I hope you’re not upset how long I took…

I hope you liked it though…

I didn’t know if you wanted it to be romantic or something, so I kinda just made it so you can interpret it however you wanted it

If there are any mistakes I made, please point them out,

comments and reblogs are appreciated!

~~

[starguardianniom]

When the arrow strikes twice

My first fic ever I am no writer at all but I needed to write a lil something about Harumasa and some angst after he survives his agent story, set after he defeated Kirishima and before he goes back to work, first time he wakes up fully in the hospital. Lots of angst because well, our boy didn't expect to be alive and freak out quite a bit about it because there's just no way. You can all thank @cozywithbooks who was persuasive talking me to write it.

..............................................................................................................................

Harumasa slowly woke up, feeling extremely weak, he knew he was still alive somehow. How? What? Huh?

He opened his eyes to see his doctor standing next to him, looking relieved to see him awake. "Welcome back to the land of livings, mister Asaba." His doctor said warmly.

Harumasa just stared at him in utter confusion and shock. "What?" He asked.

"You gave us quite the scare and we were sure you weren't gonna survive but you miraculously pulled through." His doctor gently explained. "You still need to stay a few more days for more check-ups but so far you are recovering extremely well, it's a true miracle, sir." The excited glint in the doctor's eyes showed Harumasa that he was very happy with his condition.

Yet all Harumasa could feel at the moment was pure dread, terror and shock. "WHAT? HOW? I WAS SUPPOSED TO DIE HOW AM I STILL ALIVE????!!!!" Screamed the poor boy who was on the verge of a full blown panic attack.

"Calm down now, Harumasa. I know it's a lot to take in but I can assure you that you are doing well for now. I can't explain how you managed to survive though, it's also a mystery to us. You slowly got better just when we were out of options, your recovery is a real miracle that can't be explained by medicine as of yet, we are still waiting for your results." His doctor calmly said.

"There are no miracles for me. My illness was getting worse. I was losing my senses. I even injected myself with the perfected drug of my master which should have finished the job completely. So don't tell me that I'm fine. I should be dead twice over actually. What's next, my illness is gone?" Harumasa ranted, getting more and more agitated over the situation.

He didn't understand. He was supposed to be dead. The drug should have offed him off. He remembered collapsing with the proxy vainly trying to get him stay conscious, but it was his final mission. Yet here he was, in the hospital with his doctor.

The whole thing felt surreal to him about as much as ethereals walking outside of the Hollows. It didn't make any sense. He felt like reality had changed to a whole new set of laws of logic, and him being alive after what he went through was pratically defying all logic. His brain was trying hard and failing to do all the gymnastic needed to comprehend any of it.

He felt himself feeling sick with dread, wondering if it was a sick joke and if his condition somehow went a whole new direction never seen before.

The stress of the last week, plus him still breathing afterwhat, was eating him alive. His stomach was a twisted knot, he felt sweaty all over and he was trying to control his breathing, as he started to breathe a bit louder than usual as panic was slowly setting in over the whole mess.

"Rest assured, you are doing ok for now. We are all pleasantly surprised at how well you are doing currently. Sadly you still have your illness, but it is for now extremely stable. Actually, it is the most stable it has ever been for you so far." His doctor continued, while passing him down a glass of water to try to calm him down.

Harumasa took the cup with shaky hands. "So now what? Did my illness mutated into something new that we haven't seen before or something? You're not gonna tell me that the drug and the illness cancelled each other to make something new. Like fighting fire with fire. Does it changes my condition. Am I even more at risk now?" Harumasa shrieked.

"Well, uh, not as far as we can tell. B-but, we are monitoring you very closely. Y-you do need to calm down, your body endured a lot of stress, you need to rest." His doctor stammered.

"CALM DOWN???" Harumasa screamed. "I had the most stressful week of my life, I learned my former master who I had tried to catch for years became an ethereal rendering all my efforts of my life so far to nothing, I had to put him down, then I had to catch a criminal while slowly dying from my illness, while also trying to save a bunch of kids with the same condition as me from the criminal who was going to kill them all, and then inject myself with the drug the criminal wanted just to be sure it would not be used ever which should have ended my life, do not tell me to calm down, I will throttle you" Harumasa threatened.

"I understand Harumasa, but you are still weak from your illness you need to rest to recover." The Doctor was looking at him sympathically.

Harumasa really wanted to strangle him, but he felt exhausted, being angry and confused tired him out. Instead he asked for the next things that came to mind. "So what now? Did my illness change stuff for me? Do I need to change pills? Do I need to take more pills? What do I tell my pharmacist? Will I get new symptoms? Oh man if I start getting seizures I'll never be able to go back to work I'll have to retire please tell me I won't get new symptoms or need to change prescriptions." Harumasa swiftly rambled, getting more angsty at each question.

"So far yes it has changed, for the better for now. It is very stable so you are doing ok. Based on our observations you won't need to change pills or get more. We also don't think that you'll have new symptoms, on the contrary we feel you might experience them less often. You have to understand, your recovery is pratically a miracle of god, you came here with half your right side having corruption signs over you, your right eye was blue, and yet that all went away fast and you managed to wake up a bit before losing consciousness again, but it is extraordinary." The doctor spoke, clearly still in awe of witnessing the whole event happening.

Harumasa wasn't as enthusiastic. His thoughts were in all directions, trying to make sense of any of it. He had long lost hope of some miracle humbly getting send his way. Everything the doctor said just made him more confused and scared. Miracles happens to other people, not people like him, and expecially not him. Everytime it seemed to go his way, life would snatch it away. Like his master. Like his life.

And yet.

Here he was. Still breathing. Still alive. He didn't feel a headache coming over, his eyes didn't sting, his lungs were pain free, his hands weren't shaking, he didn't feel lightheaded or nauseous. Yes, minus the exhaustion, he hadn't felt that good in maybe never before in his life. His body was fine for now.

His mental breakdown was slowly going away too, but one thing at the time.

Feeling sleep creeping up on him, he felt like joking a little to calm himself: "So this is what Hell looks like, my life at the hospital, I am surprised though, I thought Hell would have been me stuck at work doing overtime for eternity." Harumasa lightly laughed.

"Now now, Harumasa, you are truly alive, and this isn't the afterlife. Now sleep for a while, you need it." His doctor fondly told him, chuckling at himself hearing his patient joking like usual.

Yes, he would be fine.

..............................................................................................................................

So, how was it? I had this idea because to me it only makes sense that Harumasa would be beyond confused and scared when waking up at the hospital instead of being dead. So he gets a mental breakdown for a little bit before calming down. Which is why we're here. The title kind of reference when Harumasa injects himself with the drug, his target is to stop the drug from being in anyone's hands, and getting healed from it a bit is a bonus, so he strikes twice without meaning to as if he shot 2 targets with one arrow when he was just hoping to hit one target. I hope you guys liked it. ^^

Again my first fic be nice please.

[dootznbootz]

You know what? Here's a sneak peek at my wip that's distracted me from other Wips lol

ever since the wisdom saga came out and most people were only having Odysseus show Telemachus to Athena, as though he was the only parent, and also seeing some shit on Penelope apparently being neglectful and a "bad mom" because she "let Antinous hit Telemachus", I've been working on this on the side from my other wips.

wanted to have fun with Penelope and Athena's relationship while still having motherhood sprinkled in there. Penelope's her own wonderful and silly person but she loves her baby very very much. You know how mama cats will pick up their babies and then place them in front of you like "Look what I did!". That's what I'm kind of going for.

It's not done and still needs more editing and I'll probably change some bits but... yeah. I love Penelope. And there's so much to explore with her, without Odysseus being in the room.

These snippets still aren't the most Penelope centered but I hope to reveal that more in the actual posted fic.

This part will be rewritten (same vibes just feels clunky to me) but I need people to know I was imagining this seal when writing it lol

she's a lil embarrassed. Telemachus sleeps a lot and she's a bit antsy to show him off. she has yet to show him to the River naiads.

[briteningbolt]

The silly duo Dink and Doink 💜💛

[helpmemiku]

A pretty old drawing of mine, and my first attempt at drawing in the Splatoon style

Also PLEASE NINTENDO AND CRYPTON MAKE THIS REAL

Probably gonna re make this soon

[thequeenofthewinter]

It’s WIPsday Somewhere

I was tagged by @hircines-hunter and @theoneandonlysemla, and I so said, fuck it.

I don’t normally post super early sketches because I’m a self-conscious girl, but here you go. I just picked this up like an hour or so ago. It’s a Dahlia. Might throw an Ulfric in here. (Because of course that’s what she’s looking at.)

Idk who to tag. If you have something, tag me. I’d love to see it. ❤️

[hellhouse-of-horrors]

an attempt has been made

[pinkcarabiner]

future milf but in a femme way💖⭐️

MEN DO NOT INTERACT

[minet-39]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: 原神 | Genshin Impact (Video Game) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Freminet/Gaming (Genshin Impact) Characters: Freminet (Genshin Impact), Gaming (Genshin Impact), Lyney (Genshin Impact), Lynette (Genshin Impact), Arlecchino (Genshin Impact), Tartaglia | Childe (Genshin Impact), Xingqiu (Genshin Impact), Hu Tao (Genshin Impact), Columbina (Genshin Impact) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fatui (Genshin Impact), Fatui Harbingers (Genshin Impact), Hurt No Comfort, Doomed Relationship, References to Commedia dell'arte, Autistic Freminet (Genshin Impact), Harbinger Freminet, why has no one made a harbinger freminet fic yet??, Written Before Snezhnaya Release (Genshin Impact) Summary:

“I love you.”

 At the time, it felt like the right thing to say. The way his heart fluttered every time he would speak, how his cold hands met his warm hands, and how one could speak for hours while the other simply listened intently.

 It’s been 5 years since it felt like the right thing to say. It’s been 5 years since he last believed they were meant for eachother. It’s been 5 years… and yet, Gaming still couldn’t get over Freminet.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Arlecchino changes her mind about who her successor shall be, and after her untimely death, her chosen successor is thrown into the Fatui Harbingers.

 aka no one has written harbinger freminet yet and it made me mad

[whillywisp]

Stardust. Hard not to love what you know.

Summary: You hadn't lived a single day of your life without the sea or Finnick, even after he was reaped, even after he was turned into a ruthless killer and then the Capitol's most prized possession, trapped behind it's gilded bars like a songbird. Only instead of a song crying for help, he just spoke the words that came to him the easiest and you took them and caged them in your skin, turned yourself into a gallery for his art.

Or.

Writer Finnick who's love language is writing on his lover's skin, the only place he allows himself to be free.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

'I see a little bit of me in everyone. Stardust. hard not to love what you know. we are all the universe in drag.'

On the surface, everyone knew Finnick Odair as he presented himself, like his life is a theatre performance and he only really took the most perfect, untainted, beautifully crafted parts of himself out into the spotlight but left the more ugly, broken and vulnerable parts of him behind the velvet red curtains before show time.

But most people didn't know that he didn't just leave the parts of himself most beautiful just floating mid air when they weren't needed but rather imprinted on your skin in the form of words and ink. Because that was only meant for you to see.

For your whole life, it had always been you, the sea and Finnick, from the day you had grabbed the small golden haired boy's little finger at the beach and asked him to be your friend over the sound of the waves, your hair covered in sand and cold pebbles as winter air made you both shiver. You hadn't lived a single day of your life without the other two, even after he was reaped, even after he was turned into a ruthless killer and then the Capitol's most prized possession, trapped behind it's gilded bars like a songbird. Only instead of a song crying for help, he just spoke the words that came to him the easiest and you took them and caged them in your skin, turned yourself into a gallery for his art.

The world will never see him in peaceful moments like this, his head in your lap, no responsibilities or unwanted touches making his shoulders slump under the weight of them as he scribbles words into the delicate, scarred skin of your forearm, words that you know you'll take to Delilah, the only tattoo artist in District 4 and make them yours forever. The world will never see his concentrated frown as he thinks slowly and makes sure the words express exactly how he feels in that moment, caging the moment in them forever.

You stroke his hair gently with your free hand, your own whipping around in the cool night breeze, watching his pen glide against your skin and the way the ink smudges on the uneven surface, broken by old scars that told a story of their own. He looked too adorable like this, entirely engrossed in his work that you can't help but press a gentle kiss to the frown between his eyebrows, making green eyes the colour of the sea lapping against the shores in front of you look up at you in surprise and barely concealed adoration.

"What?" His voice is gentle above the sound of the waves and you smile, shaking your head, your hair fall forward to make a protective curtain around the two of you.

"Nothing, you just look precious like this. All concentrated and lost in thought." You lean down again, this time pressing a kiss to his lips. You feel his lips stretch into a smile against your own and his green eyes just seem brighter than the full moon shining overhead.

"Adorable huh? I have a reputation to maintain, darling. Don't go around ruining it," he teased, his eyes crinkled at the corners as he grins up at you. You laugh, pulling your hand away from his grip and the tip of his pen, to gently stroke his cheek with your finger tips.

"No one could touch your reputation even if they tried." You say with a chuckle and it's true. No one could destroy the reputation he had crafted so perfectly over the years as the Capitol's darling and in some ways, you wished you could burn them down to ashes and let the world see your beautiful boy but you knew you were too selfish, too greedy for him to be yours and yours alone to ever let that happen. Almost as if he heard your thoughts, he smiles up at you, and shook his head.

"You could. You could if you wanted to, and I'd let you, happily. If my downfall does have to come someday, I hope you bring it upon me." Your heart squeezes painfully in your chest at that and you shake your head, pressing another kiss to his lips. This was devotion and you always wondered what it was you did that made you worthy of it. "I could never hurt you, in any way. You are my everything."

His eyes flutter close at that and he smiles, his voice soft as if he didn't even want the sea to listen in on his confession. "And you are mine."

A peaceful silence falls over you both and you can't help but remember the words he was scribbling onto your arm earlier and you look down at him again, a small smile on your face. "Can I see what you wrote today?" Finnick never wanted you to read incomplete words, and you never tried to. He always clapped his hand down on your skin or closed his notebook when you asked him and he told you they weren't ready to be seen. Even when they were in plain sight, like now, you averted your gaze, because you'd never break his trust. Not like this.

He smiles up at you sheepishly and looks away, his hands fidgeting with his pen. "They're not mine today, not originally anyways. But everytime i think of them, they remind me of you."

You raise an eyebrow, your fingers gently turn his face to look back at you. "Oh? Just a poem then, from another writer?" He nods slowly, his hand coming up to cradle yours against his cheek. "Something like that. You can read it."

You smile and raise your forearm to your eyelevel, squinting through the now smudged ink and trying to look at it with the full moon light.

'What I feel for you cannot be conveyed in phrasal combinations, it either screams out loud or it stays painfully silent but I promise you — it beats words. It beats worlds.'

You blink before looking down at him, his green eyes wide as he looks up at you and you lean down to kiss his lips again, properly now. He responds in kind, his hand coming up to cradle your face like you're something precious and you fall a few feet deeper into him. "That's so beautiful."

He smiles against your lips, looking up at you with his boyish grin. "Isn't it? Everytime i think of it, all i can think of in relation is you." Every bit of grief in your body melts away at that, and you can't help the intense wave of emotions for the precious boy in your lap that washes over you.

"I love you," the words tumble from your lips like a prayer. "I love you. More than the years you or i live, more than the beats our combined hearts beat, i love you."

He smiles, moving away to sit up and then tug you into his lap, his eyes soft as he peers at your glossy eyes. He gently leans his forehead against yours and closes his eyes, his arms tight around you.

"I love you too, more than any amount of words I write. Thank you for taking these...parts of me and making them yours. Even the parts the rest of the world would resent."

You shake your head and smile, kissing him again. "Every part of you is mine, just like everything that makes me is yours. Hard not to love what you know. And the truest thing you can know is yourself."

A sigh of content escapes him and his arms just tighten around, "I love me then? The me in you? The me that melds with you?" His voice soft, as if slowly coming to accept these parts of him as something to love, to cherish like he loved and cherished you.

The smile you give him is blinding, just like the one you had given him all those years ago with missing teeth and wild hair, marking the start of the most beautiful moment in your life. "Yes. Yes you do."

And in that moment you forget there's a world outside this beautiful boy you've made home in.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

A/N: I've always wanted to explore writter Finnick because i think we all moved on from that way, way too quickly. written literally right now, as fresh as Peeta's bread out of the oven. With words of Nizar Qubbani and other little bits that make me scattered in along with this one quote that i can't get out of my head, i give you 'Stardust. Hard not to love what you know'. (I threw the sad one shot into my wips list and decided this was more important. I barely ever write for the public and this is actually my first full length one shot so please be gentle and dont break my poor heart xo. And i promise I'm working on young god hehe.)

[wanderlustplanetarium]

babys first ita bag... @mintsussy is like nearly half of the stuff i got off of etsy for it 10/10 would buy more if i had room sweats nervously

[aspecofdust]

Tears of Sapphos

This is the tale of the death of the Goddess of Life, the tale of the first murder. It is a tale that is foundational to the worship of the trio of gods, Akolis, Sapphos, and Paeros. The story itself is not told the same way by every person who tells it, for each narrator will inevitably favor one aspect of a God over another. At times, Akolis the War God was already married to Sapphos, and was simply protecting his union. In others, there were many more suitors after Akolis, all conspiring against Paeros. This rendition of the birth of the Goddess of the Dead will be taking the most common traits of every story, in an attempt to piece together the true history of the Gods. The credit of research and transcription goes to one A. E. Acilia.

In a time when the gods could freely walk the earth, not yet bound to their domains, Sapphos still had yet to claim a husband or a wife. She was recognized as the most beautiful of the gods, yet what captured the hearts of her suitors was the deepness of her emotion. She was first to cry when a friend was wronged, she was first to celebrate the accomplishments of her friends, and when she told you that she loved you, you could tell that she truly meant it. Yet, to the displeasure of her suitors, her love was not the romantic companionship that they sought. She truly loved every god, hill, and tree, but she had refused any advance that the others had made. As the eons passed, her suitors grew weary and accepted that their love would never be requited. All, but one. Akolis, one of the greatest hunters among the gods, still sought her heart. Since the first dawn, Akolis attempted to bring all manners of trophies to impress his target. It was he who trapped each star in it’s point in the sky, creating all manners of traps to secure them. Yet despite her pride for him, she still did not want him the way he wanted her. It was Akolis who roused the mountains, bringing them to their highest peaks so that he could collect the purest clouds to make all manners of clothes for his prize. Yet despite her gratitude, she did not want him any more or less. When the first snow fell upon the world, it was he who melted it into the first rain so that Sapphos could quench her thirst. Yet despite her awe in his strength, she still did not wish to lay with him.

In every hill and vale, you can point to a piece in the landscape that was formed as a gift to Sapphos. She loved each one dearly, and gave it in turn to the other gods so that all could appreciate Akolis’ skill. So in love with her was he, that he took no offense. For she clearly did not hold any ill will. When the first animals began to roam, and the first plants formed out of the rock and sand of the earth, Akolis hunted them as well. As death was yet to be a concept, Akolis could never seem to catch the creatures of the land, nor sea, nor air. In exasperation, he bid Sapphos to accompany him on one of his hunts, so that she could at the very least see this new life that roamed the world.

Sapphos accompanied him eagerly, for she was the most sheltered of the gods. Together they went from Sapphos’ home in the earth, into the first forest. In this time, the woods were still connected, and covered nearly every corner of the land. It was here, that Sapphos fell in love with life. When she gazed into the emerald leaves of the newly-born trees, she was overcome with adoration. When the first Elk ran past the duo, she could not help but be filled with curiosity and thrill. These creatures were so different to what she had come to expect from the creations of the gods. Their thoughts were so quick compared to the mountains and hills, their freedom was paralleled only by the winds.For once, Sapphos had a request for Akolis. She wished to meet the one who created the stems, roots, and leaves. She wished to see who gifted animation to the furred creatures of the woods, to the scaled fish of the deep, to the feathered birds of the sky. Ever dutiful, and seeing an opportunity to truly impress Sapphos, Akolis began his search. For a year and a day he was not seen, for he was scouring the deepest parts of the woodland realm, the most blinding kingdoms of the sky, and the darkest depths of the ocean. It was on that last day, the day that he almost gave up, that he found the one who he was looking for.

Paeros, the Lady of Life. She was a young goddess, only recently worshiped by the elk, the fish, and the birds. Her hair was a collection of every leaf, branch, coral, and vine. Her body was fluid and genderless, and from it she could mold any creature into life. When she spoke to Akolis in greeting, he found it nearly impossible to speak. Her beauty, yet hidden behind a wooden mask, could nearly rival Sapphos’. She truly would make an excellent gift.Akolis bid Paeros to stay in this clearing for a day, so that he could bring Sapphos to her. Paeros agreed, being curious to meet the gods who had built this world for her children to spread across. In a mere hour, Akolis and Sapphos returned. As Sapphos and Paeros greeted one another, and told the other their names, both were struck by fascination. Akolis slowly faded from their minds as the two began to converse. For a day and a night, Sapphos learned the name of every creature, and Paeros learned the name of every star. Sapphos learned of Paeros’ passion for her craft, and her insatiable desire to create more. Paeros learned of Sapphos’ passion for all things, and her love for it all. Akolis shared his will to protect everything that Sapphos loved, yet he did not learn anything from the two.

Akolis began to stew in his jealousy. Sapphos never conversed with him with such fervor, nor did her eyes hold the same look she held for Paeros. In the end, it was he who ended the time the three spent together. Forcing Sapphos along, he took her from Paeros’ glade. Akolis had never seen Sapphos so sad to say goodbye, nor had he seen her so happy simply to be in the presence of another. It was as if he had truly never seen her before that day. Perhaps he had only seen what his obsession wanted him to see.

In the days after, Paeros began a journey to find Sapphos. Yet it would not be one that she would make without resistance. Akolis intimidated the mountains to grow wider and more sprawling, dividing the land into pieces and confusing Paeros. When she reoriented herself, he chased the rivers into the oceans, forcing them to grow wider and divide the continent more. When Paeros began to cross the rivers, Akolis began to hunt her creations with more vigor. Though unable to die, her children returned to her in droves, bearing vicious wounds from arrow and spear alike. As she was slowed, Akolis then plead to the gods of earth and sea, convincing them that life needed to be separated to truly grow and diversify. Agreeing, if only without knowing the truth, the gods of the earth and sea turned a single landmass into continents and archipelagos. When Paeros was done healing all of her children, she found herself alone on an island far from every other realm.

Paeros despaired, yet it was not in life’s nature to stagnate due to obstacles. Instead, she began to craft a gift for Sapphos, who she wished to see more than anyone else in the world. Paeros gave shape and form to the first two of the dragons, creatures so intelligent that they could access a small portion of the magicks that the gods used to form the world. With their strength, flight, and magic, the dragons would be how Paeros would find Sapphos.

Together, the pair flew. It is said that these dragons would fall in love during their journey, as they were formed out of Paeros’ love for Sapphos. Every drake, wyrm, and wyvern that were descendants of the dragons would keep a portion of this love inside of them, and so it was that the dragons and their kin were the most faithful companions in the realms.No matter how many arrows Akolis shot at the dragons, nor how many mountains grew in their path, the dragons could not be stopped. Still, it took them seven years to find Sapphos, and display themselves to her as their mother’s first gift. Sapphos would not need any other gifts from Paeros. From the dragons, Sapphos learned all that Akolis had done to prevent Paeros from meeting her love. Despite her love for him, she could not feel more ashamed that one who she considered a close friend had torn the realm asunder out of mere jealousy.

Knowing that Akolis would not allow Sapphos to meet with Paeros, Sapphos came up with a plan. Morphing herself into the form of a dragon, she would pose as the couple’s child. Together, they would fly from her home and back to Paeros, so that they could be together.

Yet as the dragons flew, they were stalked by Akolis. Sapphos could not hide herself in her entirety from him, and he would watch the dragons through every day and night to see where they had hidden his obsession. Her disguise was cunning, but his senses were beyond it. Unbeknown to them, the hunter followed the trio back to Paeros’ island silently.

As the trio set down upon the island, Sapphos changed shape from dragon-child to her original form. She rushed to Paeros, who could not hide her surprise even behind her mask. Together, they embraced each other. They had found one another, and all would be well.

But Akolis could not accept this perceived betrayal. As the two lay together, he returned to the heavens so that he could ensure that each regretted meeting the other. Taking the brightest of the stars that he had trapped, he formed an arrow that would not be stopped by any manner of immortality. With it, he would declare war on the notion of life.

It is said that even today, one can see the trail of stars in the sky that rushed to avoid Akolis’ arrow. It flew true, and no obstacle would prevent it from reaching Lady Life. Even the mighty Dragons stepping in the way of the devastating shot would not slow it for a moment.Death was a new sensation to the Lady of Life. It was sudden, different from the careful crafting that formed Life. Sapphos would not even be able to comprehend why her love did not respond to her when she called out her name. This was the first death, the first mourning of something lost. Paeros could not comfort her lover in death. They had spent only a fraction of their everlasting lifetimes with one another, yet it was already over. Sapphos would not move from the spot that the arrow struck Paeros, to do so would be to abandon her soul. Instead, she could only find the strength to weep. As she gazed into the stars through tear-filled eyes, she could no longer see each as a gift. They were like a message from Akolis, a message of domination and hopelessness. All she could do was cry, and for each star in the sky a hundred days of mourning passed.

Having achieved victory over his personal foe, Akolis expected to feel joy. To feel that he had finally removed every barrier between him and Sapphos. But all that could reach him in that moment was a terrible regret. From the heavens, he watched as the one he claimed to love wept. To comfort her would be a terrible mistake. How had he committed such sin?He could not face her, nor would he be accepted by the other Gods. His judgment would surely come to him soon. And so, Akolis remained immobile, stuck in his firing position. Remorse would not save Paeros, it would not revert the world back to what it was. When the King of the Gods found Akolis transfixed, he would deal out his first punishment. Magic chains were bound across Akolis’ body, forcing him to keep his bow in his grip and his quiver at his side. For every day of Sapphos’ mourning, a chain would bind him to one of the stars and force him to witness it all until the second half of his punishment could be given.

As Sapphos mourned, the tears that she wept gathered around her feet, staining her dress and soaking the land. As her tears fell without relief, a river began to grow and grow. A thin stream that passed under the bodies of her lover and the first dragons would become a raging tide, and so the bodies would float away. So consuming was her grief that Sapphos would not realize until the last tear fell from her cheek.

When her body could produce no more tears, and her breath was dry and ragged enough to turn farmland into desert, Sapphos could see what she had created. A pale, ghostly river flew from her as the source, and despite her no longer being able to cry, it regenerated from nothing. Stumbling to her feet, the goddess stared in disbelief into the mystic waters.

She felt an urge to bathe in them, to let them take her away from this place. She obliged, for the world had become so dull and so lifeless without Paeros. Stepping into the river, she would allow it to take it where it pleased. She expected to be ravaged by the storming waters, yet she felt no harm. Deep beneath the surface of the river, she could only feel at peace.

Long did it carry her, the sky above darkening and brightening enough times to lose count. As she traveled, she felt some new wisdom seep into her mind. Death was new, it was sudden, it hurt more than anything else could. Yet she did not hate it. She could only love what came before it, and feel the deepest joy that she could have met Paeros. The river was so turbulent, yet so gentle. It could not be an evil, even if evil spawned it.

Eventually, the river carried her to a shore. She knew that this was where she must depart from the river. Rising from the waves, she stepped upon the glass sand that lined the riverbank. A billion tiny pearls laid at her feet, flawed and raw. For some reason, she knew that she would not be able to return to the land of the mortals once she placed her foot into the cutting glass.

The pain was not unpleasant, it seemed only natural that the mourned would feel the pain that the mournful basked in. Climbing from the banks, godly ichor staining the sands beneath her, Sapphos would walk aimlessly yet full of purpose.

Tall grasses welcomed her, cleaning away the blood that followed in her wake. It would never dry, glistening darkly among the grass for as long as it swayed in the winds.

As Sapphos walked among the landscape, she could not find any other soul. Instead, all that greeted her was a seemingly endless plane of grass and hill. Visions of pavilions and castles entered her mind, as if she was seeing a future that had yet to pass, but the hills remained empty.

She would not rest for many days, though there was not a ray of daylight in this world. Despite the lack of stars, she could still see everything clearly. It did not glow with the radiance of the living, but all was perfectly visible. To Sapphos, it was as enchanting as the woodland realm that Paeros had first showed to her.

The single passing thought of Paeros felt powerful. It brought grief back within her heart, where there had been only a cold stillness after bathing in the river. Falling to the base of a tree, she could only stare into the silence of the ether.

But she was not alone. This tree was home to the soul of the first god to die. Shifting from the form of the tree, Paeros stared from above into the eyes of Sapphos. For a while, neither could yet register the other. They had both thought themselves to be forever removed from their lover, and the eyes of the once familiar seemed so distant and ethereal.

But it was them. They could do nothing but embrace one another, in the cold stillness of the underworld. Words failed them, so overcome by love, grief, and surprise were they.

They would take comfort in one another, alone in the vast and empty grey of the grasses. Together they would craft a home for themselves, a place where they would be safe from interference forever. Even as the souls of the newly dead mortals began to wash up on the shores of glass, the two would welcome them and help them build new homes for themselves. The palaces of the dead would rise, and the landscape of the underworld would shift and change so that each soul could rest comfortably.

For ten years, the dead would create their realm, separate from the living. It was not until a Phoenix arrived at the doors of the Queens of the Dead that they would have any contact with the gods above.

The Phoenix, always the messenger of the gods, would bear news from the King of the Gods. Due to his crime against his people, Akolis had been chained. Yet due to this, the mortal beasts and men of the world were starved of the sustenance of the hunt. Men could scavenge, yet too many beasts were starving from being unable to live as they once did, without death.

The couple was given the choice to pass new judgment on Akolis, and punish him as they saw fit. While most would leap at the chance to punish their murderer, Paeros and Sapphos sat still and silent for a day’s time as they deliberated amongst themselves in imperceptible ways.

In the end, they decided that Akolis would be forced to face his sin for the rest of his immortal life. He would be the reaper, the one who guided every lost soul to the underworld. He was the dealer of the first death, and now he would forever be forced to repay the dead.

The Phoenix accepted this response, and so it returned to life in a brilliant fire. The King of the Gods, too, would accept this response when the Phoenix returned to him. And so it was decreed. Akolis, God of the Hunt, God of War, and Guide of the Dead would be returned from his heavenly prison to the world below.

Yet still, his chains did not leave him without difficulty. So ingrained in his body were they, that they would rend his flesh from his bone without remorse. This pain, was the second half of the punishment that the King of the Gods had in mind for him. All that remained of Akolis was his hands, his face, and the bone that comprised his body. The cloak of death was never meant to intimidate, but to spare the newly dead from gazing upon more than his still-pristine hands and face.

And so, it is said that the final sound one hears when they are about to die, is the bounding leaps of hooves against stone, and the splitting of the air as an arrow collects a soul for the river.