#i'm not finished yet but i'm enjoying it a lot!

[writingastory]

221: A summer's night

A/N: Please keep in mind that this is no-where near "canon" and his Myth only served as inspiration. There are some spoilers and a lot of altered / made-up events. Hope you enjoy.

Word count: 1.8k

— "But maybe that's where love grows best - in the deep space that exists between polarities."

"Sylus?"

The young woman's voice echoed in the empty cave. The dragon's lair was unusually cold and quiet. She called his name again, only to be met with silence once more.

Carefully, she made her way deeper into the cave, her feet thudding lightly against the cold stone ground. His usual resting place was unoccupied. She frowned and looked around. Was he toying with her? Playing a game of hide-and-seek? It certainly would not be the first time. She had lost count of the many occasions he had tricked her like that, suddenly emerging from the dark or some other hidden corner. This time, however, it seemed like he was truly not there.

She stepped closer to his resting place, patting the stone gently. As cold as the rest of the cave. Where was he?

It was close to midnight when she awoke again, a soft glow illuminating the cave. Warmth surrounded her and when she finally remembered where she was, she realized that she had been gently tucked in - on Sylus' resting place.

"Boo," he mumbled, his voice laced with a sense of mischief. She jerked around, finding him sitting on the ground next to his place, looking up at her with his signature smirk. "Rest well?"

She blushed and pushed the blanket off, climbing down from the stone-bed. "Sorry," she mumbled, looking at him with a sheepish grin.

"Where were you?" her voice was soft and gentle as she kneeled down next to him - and froze briefly when she saw some cuts along his arms and shoulders. "You're hurt...!"

The Dragon grumbled quietly, his gaze darkening. "It's fine," he answered, a soft sigh leaving his lips. "Ran into a bit of trouble earlier. Nothing important."

Her hand came to rest on his arm, squeezing him gently. "Let me help you," she whispered, knowing full well that he did not need her help; he would quickly heal on his own, just fine. But...

"I want to..."

Sylus grunted when her fingers traced along one of the cuts gently. The sting of her magic was sweet yet painful as she mended his torn skin slowly. It was a ritual they had followed many times during their relationship. Ever since they were children, she had regularly tended to him. She had dried his tears, dabbed his blood, mended his skin. She was an outcast - just like Sylus.

"Thank you," he mumbled, taking a deep breath. A heavy silence settled over the two of them, only interrupted by the soft humming of her magic.

"The Legion is getting closer everyday," he said quietly, a deep frown etched onto his face. "I..." he started - only to be interrupted by her voice.

"I'm not leaving," she said firmly, finishing up mending another wound on his skin. "I'm not, so don't even think about it."

Sylus sighed deeply under his breath. "Why do you have to be so stubborn? You aways were. It's annoying."

She chuckled, finishing up treating the last of his wounds. "I know," she answered, scooting a little closer to him, "but you leave me no choice." A grin made its way onto her face. "I wouldn't be here with you if I weren't so stubborn, hm?"

He huffed dryly, not able to suppress a small smirk of his own. "Still," he said, taking her hand into his much bigger claws gently, "I can't have you get hurt... or worse. You should leave. For now."

"No, Sylus." Her voice was filled with determination as she looked up at him. "You and me, we were both chased away from society. Together. We fought our way through life. Together. We built Tarus City. Together. I won't leave you now. Whatever you choose to do - flee or fight - I will stay with you. We'll do it together."

Sylus avoided her gaze, his frown deepening once more. "Promise me, Sylus," she pleaded, squeezing his clawed hands. "Promise me, you won't separate us. Don't face this alone."

He had not answered her, just squeezing her hand gently - and she should have known it was a mistake to not be more firm and demand an answer. If she had, maybe she would not have found herself in the middle of nowhere, abandoned and without orientation. She was not helpless by any means - she was a sorceress after all; still, she was alone, fending for herself, fighting her way back to Tarus City. The burning city was a literal beacon in the distance, an eerily bright glow illuminating the horizon.

Her heart clenched painfully. Tarus City - the city of outcasts - that Sylus and her helped build and fortify. The city where they found friendship. Love. A home. Everything that society took from them, they had found there... and now it was burning to the ground.

The Legion of Justitia was merciless, slaughtering everyone that was brave enough to go against them. She fought her way through the main gate and immediately spotted a familiar face.

"Alran!" She called, hoping her voice would make it over the deafening ruckus around her. She was lucky, for once. The imposing figure turned towards her, after he had finally subdued his foe. He breathed a sigh of relief and walked over, bowing his head in respect - despite the more than disgruntled look on his face.

"Where were you?" he asked lowly. "The city was attacked at midnight, the fiend has been defeated - and you were nowhere to be found!"

Her ears rang loudly at his words. The fiend had been defeated...?

"Sylus..." she whispered, gripping Alran's shoulders, shaking him forcefully. "Where is he? Where is Sylus?!"

The screams had long stopped, when the Legion finally left Tarus City - or rather, the burning remains of it. She stood in the middle of the ruined market place, her hands sore and burning from overusing her magic. But what other way was there to stop the attacks?

Hot tears streamed down her face, dropping into the cold ashes on the ground.

"Sylus is dead," Alran had said. "He fought well... but they got lucky."

A loud sob escaped her lips - and she broke down screaming and crying. In the midst of whatever was left of the city, the young sorceress wailed, mourning the death of her love.

Very few people survived the vicious attack. Thankfully, her most loved ones were among them.

Alran.

Dochin.

Elora.

Opiris.

Talula.

"Where-", another sob wrecked through her, "where is he? Show me where it happened."

Alran stepped forward, glaring down at her. "First, you owe us an answer. Where were you?"

She looked up at him slowly, her vision blurred from unshed tears. "You've got some nerve..." she whispered, clearly understanding the implication in his words. With a snap of her fingers, she cast an illusion, showing the whole group her memories.

Sylus had taken her on an outing earlier that day. He flew to Taurus' outskirts with her, where the seas of red blossoms were in full bloom. They had frolicked around, rolled through the grass and flowers, shared hopes, and dreams, and wishes... and soft kisses. She had fallen asleep - and woken up alone.

"Challenge my integrity and loyalty again, I dare you," she sneered, standing up slowly as the illusion slowly faded away. Alran, the imposing half-orc, lowered himself to one knee slowly, bowing his head - the others immediately following his example.

"I apologize," he mumbled. "When we saw the fiend fighting alone, we assumed you dead. It was... a shock to see you alive. Not that we're unhappy about that, but-"

She cut him off harshly. "Save your breath," she snarled, "and take me to where it happened. Where did the fiend-... where did Sylus..."

Alran nodded and motioned her - and the rest of the group - to follow him. It was not far from the city gates - and Sylus' cave. With every step they took, her heart grew heavier. It was maddening. Maybe they were wrong. Maybe Sylus was not dead. Maybe he was just heavily injured and needed their help. He would be alright. They would nurse him back to help.

It would all be alright.

If she just clung to that thought...

The ground was blackened by a fire, soot strewn about in all directions from the point of impact. She sighed heavily, fresh tears welling up in her eyes at the sight. The group lowered their heads in respect as she made her way over slowly, her gaze fixed on the area in the middle of the black soot - an area that seemed so awfully familiar in shape.

She whimpered and knelt down, tracing the line between the ground and where the soot appeared. Sylus.

A loud curse left her lips and she punched the ground in anger and hate and sadness - it was not fair. Sylus should be there. With them. With her. And all that was left of him was a silhouette and soot, burnt sand in the desert.

"I'm... so sorry..." Alran said, having stepped closer in the meantime. He put his hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. "It's not right..." she whispered, her fingers raking through the sand underneath her, as if trying to feel Sylus one last time.

"It's not right, he should have... I should be..."

Alran shushed her gently, allowing her to lean against his shoulder as he wrapped his arm around her to comfort her. They sat there from sunset to sunrise, mourning the loss of their dear friend and beloved companion.

Days passed. Days filled with sorrow and misery. Tarus City laid in ruins. Everything they built up and worked for was destroyed. The little group found more survivors underneath the rubble, old and young, men and women. It was a small beacon of hope - even if the light was still weak and dim.

Every day, once the work was done, she had returned to that fateful place. Sylus' silhouette was still clearly visible on the ground, even after the many times her hands had touched the outlines.

"My love... beloved Dragon... how will I ever cope with your death...?" she whispered as she looked up at the moon. A deep sigh escaped her as she turned to leave the place - when something caught her eye in the ground.

Maybe it was fate... or something else. In that moment, it felt like Sylus himself had answered her from another realm. There, hidden in the sand, something glistened in the moonlight. She bent down and picked it up - and her heart started racing. She knew immediately, what it was. A beautiful red gem, that belonged to her love. Onto his chest, like a heart, connecting his human and dragon form.

She gasped, examining the treasure in her hands. How had she not seen it before? "Sylus," she whispered, a sense of hope coursing through her veins. Her lips found the red gem, placing a gentle kiss onto the cold surface.

"I will bring you back."

[tagsecretsanta]

From @ajpendragon

From @ajpendragon to @cookidoughlilac

I had a lot of fun with this (and maybe made myself cry a little bit). I tried to focus on Jeff’s feelings about his first Christmas back with his boys, which was one of the prompts I received. Hopefully, it turned out okay!

Memory

He had forgotten just how comfortable this couch was in the last eight years. 

Jeff's boys were gathered around the tree, wrapping it in lights and ornaments in a show of teamwork that he could have only dreamed about the last time he had been here. Virgil sat at the piano, Christmas carols filling the room, his skills far better than Jeff remembered. Scott and John were working on the top of the tree, using their superior height to decorate without needing to find a ladder. Gordon and Alan were darting between their legs, hanging the most hideous ornaments they could find with peals of laughter. 

Jeff thought about getting up to help them, but no sooner did the idea cross his mind than his mother's arm tightened around his shoulders. "Don't even think about getting up." She ordered softly, passing him the chipped mug from the table next to her. The ‘World’s bestest dad’ in childish handwriting gleamed in the light. "Let them enjoy this. You enjoy this."

He took a long sip of his hot chocolate, enjoying the rich flavor as he swallowed. He had forgotten what chocolate tasted like. "I am enjoying this." He protested, unable to stop himself from savoring another sip before continuing. "I just want to help. I spent so long dreaming of this, and now that I'm back, I can't even join in."

"I know." She soothed. "But you need to rest. You're not up for it yet. Soon, but not yet. If you tried to help, they would just be worried about you. Just watch-"

The blaring of the emergency alarm interrupted her, all of the boys jumping together to listen as EOS quickly ran them through the situation. They quickly disappeared through their pictures, his mother retreating back to the office to coordinate, leaving him alone in the living room, staring at the half-finished tree.

***********************

It didn't take long after the boys left for him to get bored.  At least in space, there was always something that needed to be done: food to collect, repairs to make, watching for his boys on the ever-decreasing chance that they would come for him. But here, his only job was to rest and recover, relearn how to live on earth after so long. Honestly, it was incredibly boring. Not that he wasn't thankful. Every day he got to spend with his boys, with his mother, in his home, was a blessing he had honestly been so close to giving up hope of ever having again. But he was bored.

Rest and recover, according to his mother and sons, meant doing absolutely nothing. He knew they were right. After so long in space, earth was an environment his body had forgotten how to function in. It was difficult to walk, he was more tired than he could ever remember being before, he ached under the pressure of a gravity he had nearly forgotten the feeling of. But he wanted to do something. He needed to be doing something. His brain wouldn't let him rest while his family was out there, risking their lives for a world that had forgotten how much it owed them.

So, with a quick glance around to make sure no one was watching, he grabbed his cane and pushed himself to his feet. Pausing a moment to let his heart adjust to his body being upright, he slowly made his way to his bedroom. Once there, he carefully lowered himself to the ground, knees cracking as he settled in a comfortable spot on the plush carpet and reached under the bed.

The box he pulled out was old and dusty, left there for so long that even the cleaning bots had forgotten about it. He settled the cardboard carefully on his lap, blowing the dust off the lid and removing it to set it to the side, hands trembling as he pulled out the first of the box's contents.

**************

Thirty minutes later, one of his feet asleep from the unusual position, he set the box to the side and used the bed to leverage himself up. Taking a few moments to rest on the edge of the bed (and to shake his foot awake), he grabbed the box in his free hand and headed back to the Christmas tree. 

It took some careful maneuvering, and a lot of breaks, but he managed to finish his project before his boys returned. He was resting on the couch again when they came into the room, hair damp from post-mission showers, and clearly tired, although still in good spirits.

It took them a moment to notice the change, but one by one they each stopped in the middle of the floor, staring open-mouthed at the ornaments he had hung. He could see a suspicious sheen of tears in some of the older boys eyes.

On the front of the tree, hanging carefully from the sturdiest branches he had been able to find, were some of his most precious possessions: the ornaments each of the boys had made with their mother on their first Christmas. He had always kept them somewhere safe, refusing to trust such irreplaceable memories to the safety hazard that was their storage closet.

"I had almost forgotten about those. I thought they were lost." Scott breathed softly, his eyes never leaving the precious ornaments. He came over to the couch, curling his long frame up on the cushion next to Jeff, gently resting his head on his father's shoulder. Slowly, the rest of his brothers joined him, each settling themselves into a place where they could touch their father, seeming to need that reassurance. 

Jeff didn't mind. After eight long years, the reminder that he was no longer alone was something he desperately needed too. Eight years of his boys lives, eight Christmases, eight years of memories he had missed. He had forgotten what it felt like to be surrounded by love like this.

Sitting there, surrounded by the people he loved most in the world, the boys who had kept him going for all those long eight years, he vowed not to miss anything else. He would be there for his boys, no matter what. He could not, would not allow himself to forget this feeling. It was up to him now to make up for all those years, building new memories to move forward on. 

He was already forgetting the pain and struggle, the loneliness, of the last eight years. He could feel it slipping away, wrapped in the warmth of his family's embrace.

Memory was funny like that.

[libraryleopard]

reading a shore thing by joanna lowell (victorian romance novel about a trans painter and a female botanist bicycling around cornwall) and hello olivia cooke and misia butler i have an important proposal

[deoidesign]

"I'm the dog they put with cheetahs to keep them from going crazy in captivity" x "I'm the cheetah that is threatening to go crazy" 4 ever

(I make a webcomic about them)

[amethystpath-writes]

To Traitors

NOT A PR0MPT

******

"The general wants to send me to your homeland."

"For war?"

Villain hummed. "We knew it was coming."

"Of course." Hero shook her head and pushed a shirt further into the bucket of water. She bent it and twisted it and shoved it again. "How did she react when you told her 'no'?"

That was the thing; Villain didn't deny the general. No one denied the general.

Hero picked up on the silence. She always did. “Where does that leave us?”

A choice.

War?

Or her?

“You know this decision is not mine.”

"Sure, it is. I always wanted to travel- try camping."

Camping. Hero knew rejecting orders would be considered traitorous. She would rather be homeless and shunned than to standby while her homeland was being attacked.

"Hero..."

"Is that something you are not willing to do?" Her movements became rushed, like she was trying to maintain a calm, but the only way to do so was to move along with the emotions. She grabbed a shirt, dunked it, rung it, tossed it. Grab, dunk, ring. Grab, dunk, ring. They weren't even becoming clean, and the water needed changed. "My family is there. Where are they meant to go?"

"Even if I did tell the general no, I cannot stop an entire army from marching. The war will happen with or without me."

A sigh veiled the tension in the room. Villain's weight creaked beneath him as he stepped towards his lover. He took a linen shirt, wet and soaked, from her hands, and dropped it in the brown water. He found her hands next, then tugged her up slightly. She took the cue and stood, let herself be held.

"I love you," Villain said.

Hero didn't like crying. This is why Villain began rubbing her back as he pulled her into an embrace. She buried her face into his chest and sniffed once, twice...wiped a face full of tears, sniffed again...stopped, then began sobbing. No amount of squeezing could console the thought of her family being innocently slaughtered.

"You would hide them, wouldn't you? If you found them, you would save them?"

His grip loosened. He whispered, “Of course I would.” Did Hero know it might have been a lie? Even Villain wasn't sure what he would do when the time came that he marched onto her homeland.

"When do you leave?"

"Tomorrow."

"Then I'm leaving now." She attempted to pull away from Villain's chest, but he held her firmly. Her muscles tensed beneath him, but Villain knew she knew better than to try again.

"Hero, be level-headed.

"I want to warn them," she whispered, so quietly that Villain only knew what she said because of how well he knew her. He knew her every thought before she even had it herself. It wasn't magic; just love.

"And you think you will outrun an entire army overnight?"

"I know I won't!" her tone had changed, and this time when she pulled away, she didn't stop until Villain let her go. "But who am I to not try at all? Who would I be, Villain?" Her face was red and swollen, glistening with sad, then angry tears.

For a moment, she stopped. She took a breath. then swallowed as if she needed to stop herself from asking what obviously came to her mind. Alas, she said it. "How long have you known?" Her voice cracked, and Villain could see she already knew the answer: longer than he should have known before telling her.

"I'm sorry."

"I didn't ask for an apology." Her eyes refused to meet his. Villain was almost glad for it. He couldn't bear her anger, not when it was directed at him. "I asked how long you have known."

"Hero..."

"Clean your own damn clothes. I'll pay the Baker family back when I return."

"Pay them back? For w-" No. "You're not taking their horse." Hero was already scrounging around, first grabbing a raggedy sack, then stuffing one random item after another in. "Hero, stop. Hero-" She was going to take the neighbor's horse just to get caught up in the war herself. "Stop!"

She fell to her knees in the next moment. Broke down as if his voice took out the last support beam keeping the house together. hero cried, screamed, and wailed. "No. No. No. No. No," she repeated, and her voice broke time and time again as she screamed.

Tears sprung into Villain's eyes. What did he do?

"I'll send a bird. It will arrive before our army does, and when they receive it, they will know to leave."

Hero's head lifted, and her puffy eyes finally met Villain's glistening ones. "I will prepare beds. We have pelts; I can throw something together, and my brother can take-"

One blow after another, each and every passing moment. Just when Villain thought all might be well, the both of them realized there was no saving anyone. The war was an ambush, and Hero's brother would be expected to take a stand, to protect his own homeland.

"I won't-" Villain swallowed. "I won't harm your family. I will send the bird, and I will pray with every moment of travel that they receive it and leave. I will not draw my sword until I find their home empty, until I am sure they have left."

"You would be a traitor to your own kingdom."

"Better it this kingdom than you."

[waitineedaname]

hiiii lily what is this ‘orv’ i have been seeing…..

HIIII MIKE. SMILES. orv is Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint! it's a webnovel with an ongoing webtoon adaption and it is making me Fucking Crazy. basically the premise there's this really unpopular really long webnovel called Three Ways to Survive an Apocalypse, and for years, Kim Dokja has been the only reader. when the novel finally ends, the author sends him an email with the txt file of the whole novel, and then suddenly the novel is wiped from the internet and in that instant, the events of the novel begin taking place in Kim Dokja's world. the apocalypse begins and humanity is subjected to cruel scenarios and challenges livestreamed for the entertainment of these powerful entities called constellations, and as the only one who read the story to its end, Kim Dokja is the only one fully equipped with knowledge of how this story goes (or at least, how it originally went)

it is SO good. it lures you in like "ooh this is a normal reverse isekai" and then ends up being CRAZY. it deals with questions about the boundary between characters and Real People and whether that distinction really matters, and it's one of those stories that looks the audience dead in the eye and dares you to look away first. literary devices are made Real (oh fourth wall we're really in it now...) and it plays with narrative voice and pov and unreliable narration in such fun ways. it is ultimately about the value of stories and the value of being a reader and the choice to wrestle with the story that's been written for you in favor of the story you really want to tell. it's also about Kim Dokja having something Deeply Wrong With Him skdlfjlksdjf the journey i went on with him was "okay he's a reader insert who reads novels as escapism, i get it" -> "oh actually he has something wrong with him" -> "oh he has something Wrong With Him" -> "WHAT. WHAT THE FUCK. HELLO. WHAT WAS THAT." I'm obsessed with him.

I read the webtoon first which I think is a pretty effective onboarding point! some of the art had my jaw on the FLOOR it's so cool. the webtoon has adapted roughly the first third of the whole novel so far, and if you want to read the novel just dm me and I'll hit you up with the epub file lol (not just mike but anyone who is interested!)

[prismatoxic]

with each passing play session of metaphor, i get closer to writing strohl/will fanfic

[keeps-ache]

and we go right back at it !!

[mementoasts]

i've been making progress in infinite wealth this week and i got very happy seeing daigo again. so i made a bracelet

[sysig]

No TV Guide for this week but there will probably be some Ukagaka devlog/concept art in the next few days :3

[hexcitrine]

randomly looked at this account to update my age and holy shit it's been a while since i posted here..........i have a small pile of art i have yet to post but hbhbshdbshbd too lazy

[longagoitwastuesday]

Can't believe I've been watching JJK for around two months and I'm still in episode 14 of the first season

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

Books of 2023. NETTLE & BONE by T. Kingfisher.

I have been Successfully Peer-Pressured into reading a book I’m sure I will love! I really enjoyed THE HOLLOW PLACES, so I’m looking forward to this one.

[parola-di-winx]

happy new year let's kick it off with thee best girls <3

[tvrningon]

so!! a lil thing i've been thinking about for a while is that!! if you ever want to turn an ask i write into a thread, pls go for it! that goes for either blog ofc, but i know for me personally, i get nervous over n.s.f.w. stuff, so i'm just plainly letting y'all know that i'm cool with threads <3 i don't mind writing here bc this blog is pretty private as is, though i don't mind writing on discord if that's more comfortable, too!

i just? want to be able to properly explore intimacy with my muses, and what tends to happen with asks is that i write the beginning of an interaction ( depending on the ask, ofc ). my brain naturally wants to set up exposition, explore the feelings surrounding the idea of becoming intimate in that particular moment -- that's why i tend to write suggestive replies vs. actual spice. and don't get me wrong!! i enjoy writing that stuff a lot!! i love writing tension and the breaking of tension :' ) but i also want to see how my characters react and feel past that.

sorry i wrote so much asdf it's really been on my mind the last couple of weeks, and bc i do still get nervous over smut, i feel the need to explain more than i probably need to :' ) i just!! want to feel more comfortable writing and want the same for my writing partners!

[seventh-district]

oh nice! the Matt fic posted itself at the correct time