so damn (HOLLOW)

“… We can light orange and black lanterns.” Pan is judging his adopted son so hard right now, it is unfathomable.

---- NO LANTERNS, ONLY CANDIES. What part of halloween candies could be misunderstood as hey let’s light shit on fire ?

“Did you get lost again or are you just swearing at the sun child that we both despise?”

---- HIM, LOST ? FAR MORE UNLIKELY than him going around talking shit about Apollo, yet neither of these proved to be the reason behind his potty mouth. It was far worse, even, as Epiphon muttered under his breath,

       << G-god d-damn it, you fucking p-piece of shit, you cockadoodle p-piece of absolute fucking g-garbage, fuckward m-me sideways right in t-t-the ass, I fucking w-want t-t-to shove you in a spacesuit and kick you t-t-to t-t-the fucking sun. >>

The words are enough to have her heart fluttering like a butterfly finding its perfect flower to land on and rest, and there is no one stopping her from the very public display of affection before them. In fact, the villagers seem very much pleased with it. Finally, the Redbloom would stop sulking as they called it. “If I could march to the Underworld and demand it so, I would have you home all the time!” That much was known to be true, and she had said it many times before, but it had to be said many times after – she missed and loved him dearly enough to let him go for centuries at a time if it took only to make the return all the more sweeter.

Pulling back, she is light enough to lay part of herself across his chest. Her hands meet his cheeks and her forehead to his. “Did they treat you well? Did you get enough to eat? I bet they did not even give you an ounce of gingerbread! And! Your daughter has been missing you so! I fear she may not come out of the woods this time!” There was a tad bit of drama in her voice, but she knew Thalassa would always return home just as Ephi did – but first, gingerbread, some affection, and to get her daughter home with news that her dearly beloved father was home at last!

---- IF HE HAD EVEN THE SMALLEST DROP OF AUTHORITY over his parents, he too would demand for them to stop treating him like a child. Without taking into account that they trusted him to rule a whole domain, with his soul spread thin between the edges of an ice-covered land, and that he couldn’t remove it without a whole portion of his birth realm falling apart. Power came with its price and an obvious solitude, that he was more than happy to finally break free of. A soft blue colored his eyes at his beloved’s questions, and he nods, he nods again even if the answer is no, they did not feed him gingerbread ( but they fed him plenty of meat ), he nods simply because he’s grateful to be there with her.

HIS parents did treat him well, still, they always do, and so at least that one nod is genuine. Tilting his head, Epiphron closed the distance between them, locking their lips in a soft kiss --and just as softly pulling away, knowing to not push his luck too much when he had not asked beforehand.

      << My love, my love, my love--- >>

TWO words he repeats under his breath, in a laugh and with a smile, letting them roll on his tongue like a prayer finally answered. Words that spilled from the lips of awestruck gods, that sang a melody alongside the beating hearts of deities, that overwhelmed them as they wrapped arms around the precious existence of their most cherished ones --that overflow from a daimon in the form of tears, as he feels Sakura’s warmth against his chest, his hands, his neck, his gills. He laughs, and he can’t help but cry as the emptiness of her absence is finally filled by the sound of her voice and her familiar weight in his arms.

HE does not try to stand firm on his feet under the impact of her eager display of affection ( even if he could ), more than he allows her love to knock him down. In a better position for him to bury his face in the perfect red of her hair, taking in her smell ( gingerbread, sugar, cherries, the misty but unmistakable scent of the forest, the scent of home ), and Epiphron, for once, refuses to hide his emotions.

      << I m-m-missed you, oh, I m-m-missed you so m-much. I t-t-t-thought t-t-they’d n-never let m-me g-g-go ! >>

-If you want to move threads over to discord, hmu so we can discuss it. I'm not lightning fast on it, but I will try to get to discord replies at less of a snail pace. I don't format at all on discord, but I rarely do multi-paragraphs RPs either, unless there's extensive plotting first. If we're already RPing on discord or have talked about it, I will get to our threads & back to plotting with you, I've just been..... slow

-If you'd rather stick to Tumblr with me & my muses, pls be patient with me. I will do my best to empty my ask box & queue replies & musings to keep the blog alive, but keep in mind Tumblr keeps going apeshit feral on me, like eating asks, deleting drafts, or refusing to let me format stuff. If I write on Tumblr, I do want some formatting (even if it's just using my icons). Also important: the first post of every thread is still clinging to my every posts, so if you write me a starter, I love you, I will have to move my reply to a new thread to write with you!!!

The  radiance  of  the  small  pale  silhouette  seemed  to  almost  disappear  in  the  darkness  of  the  workshop,  surrounded  by  pieces  and  more  pieces  of  shiny  metal  pilling up:  parts  that  resembled  armor,  molds  and  even  small  tools with  formats  rather  curious  and  far  too  strange  to  not  arouse  suspicion.  However,  the  most  noteworthy  thing,  in  fact,  was the  immense  collection  of  black  stains  that  spread  across  not  only  the  tables  and  metal  pieces,  but  also  the  clothes  and  the  pale  white  skin.  Stains  that  would  certainly  not  come  out  with  a  simple  wash.  But  the  King,  now  without  his  crown  and  not  looking  that  much  different than  a  simple  blacksmith,  seemed  to  care  very  little,  focused on  his  work  with  a  rather  jovial  enthusiasm  while  putting together  each  piece.  So  focused  that  the  poised  speech  of  his  acquaintance  almost  made  him  drop  whatever  was  in  his  hands, in  a  rather  perceptible  flinch.

❛❛ Y-You  are  quite  sneaky  aren’t  you? ❜❜    Enough  composure  was  managed  to  feign  indifference,  while  the delicate  face  turned  towards  his  newly  made  associate.  How  can  someone  so  damn  tall  move  so  silently?  Of  course,  His  Majesty  knew  what  was  at  stake  at  the moment,  so  he  couldn’t  just  disrespect  it  or  treat  his  guest with  impoliteness.  If  he  owed  him  any  gratitude,  he  would only  know  later.    ❛❛ There  is  no  time  to  waste  with  these  trivialities,  when  there’s  so  much  to  do… ❜❜    Tone  sounds  somewhat  playful,  but  the  words  are  serious.  To  clean?  Now  that  he  is  so  close?  It’s  time  to  show  the  reason  of  his  insistence  after  all.    ❛❛ I  can  clean  up  later.  But  now,  why  don’t  you  see  the  results  for  yourself? ❜❜    Replied  he,  tone  soft  as  both  his  hands  lifted  a  metal  ball  from  which  small  white  insect-like  wings  popped  out,  as  if  offering  it  to  the  Daimon.  If  he  inspected  closely  enough  he  would  be  able  to  see  the dark  matter  moving  inside  before  the  tiny  wings  start flapping

---- SNEAKY, HIM ? Of all creatures that would dwell on these lands, Below Earth, and in celestial realms above, Epiphron would not have considered himself sneaky. Silent, maybe, able to move without alerting others of his presence, prudent, but definitely not the kind of person to sneak on others --and absolutely not the guy who believed a clean environment was a triviality, of all things. The black blotches covering the King’s clothes reminded him of the blood that would stain even the most pristine of Nymphs’ soul if she so much as got too close to Tartarus. Deadly, of ill omen, corrupting even what should have been pure and untouched by hellish laws, although one could safely ( perhaps even rightfully ) argue that this monarch was far from being out of turpitude’s reach.

TAKING a step further in the workshop, the daimon‘s hand fluttered above metal for a brief instant, before retracting to his side as if the air itself had pushed him away. He had agreed to help and he was here just for that, but the fall of a man still was quite a pitiful show.

       << W-where d-d-did you find t-t-those w-wings ? >>

BRUSHING asides the remark about being sneaky and about how tidying was a waste of time, to instead lean forward, as a luminous teal brightened his right eye. How interesting, had the Kind replicated these wings from scratch, or had he pieced apart some poor unfortunate butterfly ? Was the answer to that question one he truly wished to hear ?

WHY yes, yes he did. Long fingers brushed against the side of the ball, the constellations burnt in his flesh a radiant glow in the half-light of the room. Epiphron felt like picking the peculiar object, to hold it higher and get a better view, but he chose instead to ask one more question in a pensive whisper,

       << Is t-t-the d-dark m-matter reacting t-t-to you ? I’m sorry for p-poking m-my n-nose in your b-business, except you’ve n-neglected t-t-to fill m-me in, t-t-these last few d-days. Aren’t I here to help you ? >>

SOFT honeyed words, as the teal of his right eye lazily trickled down to his left eye. Stare bright, piercing the shadows, the ghost of a smile on his lips, the daimon tilted his head.

dark and frosty woods

photo by _silentforestmoods_