—𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑻𝑬𝑳𝑳 𝑴𝑬 𝑰’𝑴 𝒀𝑶𝑼𝑹 𝑻𝒀𝑷𝑬! 𝑰’𝑳𝑳 𝑲𝑬𝑬𝑷 𝒀𝑶𝑼𝑹 𝑯𝑼𝑵𝑮𝑬𝑹 𝑺𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑺𝑭𝑰𝑬𝑫, 𝑺𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑺𝑭𝑰𝑬𝑫, 𝑺𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑺𝑭𝑰𝑬𝑫!

#WISP OR E! | 02’ liner + she/they pronouns. | horror romantic (joke). introvert.

→ main blog. writing blog: @lovegothie.

→ banners are from @/cafekitsune.

→ now readin’: frankenstein (again)

→ now playin’: no. 1 obsession, 5sos.

thank you thank you!!!! i have been writing/editing every possible chance i get so here is another tidbit to chew on in the meantime!!!

——— sneak peek (again lol)

like an idiot, the words spill out of your mouth. “you’re not going to bully me, are you?”

the fabric won’t wrinkle beneath his grip, you know that—by some miracle, you’d seriously bet these clothes would help you survive a nuclear missile—or perhaps spontaneous combustion, you must be close to that, certainly.

(there’s one in the closest no man’s land. maybe you’ll ask enjin if you can check it out to test that theory.)

regardless, there’s a building dread in the pit of your belly as august’s expression shifts, thick brows furrowing, and where you think your death might become a cleaner legend, body buried where no one will ever find it until you’re but a memory, instead—

“the hell are you on about!” it’s a firm boom, the notion so visibly disorienting him that he’s releasing you in an instant, a step backward. “that’s the stupidest—you think i look like a bully?”

he looks almost… offended, babbling away. “i would never hurt one of my own! i’m a stilza—“ he’s pointing his finger in your face before his own follows, leaning in again. he’s a bit taller, and his grin stretches wide again. “august stilza, to be exact.” he’s pointing at you with both hands, “and—gram’s a bully for sure but yo, yo, yo, i—“ he’d gestured to himself, mega watt smile making your eyes hurt. “—am not dear old gam gam—don’t forget that shit!”

what do you even say to that?

nothing, as far as you’ve surmised, because you can feel that familiar knot of anxiety, twisting, pulling sharp in the back of your mind. your fingers curl and uncurl for a moment, unsure of what to do, what to say, mouth opening and closing like a fish.

he doesn’t move, and you don’t either, statues in awkward poses positioned to stare at each other for all of eternity.

“what the hell—hey!”

truth be told, you’re not the best at conversation. words are hognose snakes, burying you deep into the earth before the warmth of anything can become too hot to stand, hoping whatever they find next will be palatable.

you’re familiar with the panic that comes, of course. enjin had gotten a taste of it in the first initial attempt to recruit you. it had been two hours of talking yourselves into circles, of yelling into empty, abandoned caves expeditions and hoping someone in the echo would answer back. and only in the absence of the pursuit, you had.

(what did it say about you, hognose, that hissed and snapped but lacked fatal venom? that no matter how hard you bite, you’ll never be a killer.

august is a prodding stick, digging into soft, warm dirt hoping to find you. you pray he doesn’t, you’ve never done well with being seen so up close. you’ll hiss and scream and play dead, but that’s all you do. that’s all you can.)

hi!! so sorry i didn’t see this what the hell! yes! i’ve been busy with work for the past.. however long i’ve been gone but i have been picking them up here and there! i am going through final editing and such but they will be posted soon!