Scribbling/drabbling plans; I swear I lose more of my writing ability every year that goes by. I read stuff I wrote as a teenager and I’m baffled, like where did that go, I cannot write that good anymore! So I want to get back to writing whatever comes to mind, writing it bad and fixing it later, finding my style again
Maniacal reading plans; I need to start reading fanfics again. I need to read my own fics and remind myself of what I can do. I also need to read unserious books because life is too serious
Fingers crossed, praying, etc I’m soon to be a dog mum again. After realising at the beginning of this year that I need and am ready for another dog in my life, I have been trying so hard to find my soul dog and lemme tell you, it hasn’t been easy. But things are looking up!
I have come up with a better metaphor than “you can’t pour from an empty cup” for burnout. You can’t boil an empty kettle. Pouring from an empty cup just gets you nowhere. Trying to boil an empty kettle can ruin the kettle, the stove, and burn down your house if you keep trying it.
I finally listened to ARIRANG and I didn’t get my wish for one song to have “you know that BTS is back” a la Spine Breaker, but I knew that chances were teeny tiny for that anyways. I don’t know what people’s opinions on this album are because I haven’t been around on social media, but I for one am so uncomfy hearing “Mike Will made it” in a BTS song and will probably cringe every time. I don’t know, maybe it’s because I haven’t heard that in a song since like 2015 and I certainly don’t want to hear that in a BTS song. I guess it’s just a me thing but I enjoy when they make their own music, I don’t really vibe with this album but I stand by the sentiment that you don’t have to like every song or album by an artist you’re a fan of, it doesn’t make you a bad fan and you shouldn’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Maybe some of the songs will grow on me when I hear them more, but I did actually skip some songs before the minute mark because they just weren’t for me, not my kind of music. I get that they just wanted to put something out and go on tour asap!
Also a side story about this comeback, my family and I went through something over the weekend and to cheer me up my dad mentioned that he had seen on YouTube that BTS were on Jimmy Fallon. “It’s not in English but it’s translated” - bless him 🤭
I have been writing mostly for myself for the last year or so, writing in character, so I've gotten used to writing she/her instead of you/your. But now I'm thinking... why do we write you/your? Wouldn't it make more sense for us to write in first person pov so that when readers are reading it they're reading I/my as if they're experiencing and narrarating themselves?
Maybe you/your started for little posts and then gradually fanfics also went in that direction?
chat reminder to just write whatever the fuck you want. write that overused trope. write that obscure shit that no one will have heard of. just. do it. your writing is yours stop depriving it of that.
I don’t know because I’m chronically offline but I came back and her account has been deactivated 💔 I hope she’s okay, I’m guessing she’s just had enough of tumblr
I've noticed my hybrid works posted here are getting some love recently which makes me so happy. I've been on my supernatural/hybrid/werewolfy shit so hard this year (2025), so if you want more of that or you wanna come and yap with me about that kind of stuff over at @wildmoon-rising that would make me so happy. I haven't posted much there yet but please be warned that it will be both SFW and NSFW and it won’t be everyone’s cup of tea. It will be totally unhinged and feral if I get to have my way with it and don't stand in my own way!
I have written and rewritten this post over again months apart but here goes, hopefully this is the one. I made a new blog I had planned to use instead of this one because opening tumblr on this account has felt overwhelming for the past year or so for some reason.
I want to come back to writing and connect with other writers again despite feeling dysregulated and dysfunctional and wary of the internet and unsure if I can really even get my words out at all to write anything good. I realised that having all my little headcanons is fun, but it's more fun when I'm interacting with other writers and readers, and I am craving connection even though I am too burnt out to reach out to anyone.
In short, I'm not sure how this blog is going to go, how often I'll actually post things. The plan was to just have it without telling anyone, leaving it unconnected from this blog and just post whatever I want and close the app, not look at the number of likes or responses or anything, just posting for myself. But that wasn't the case. It turns out I need to be in amongst things to stay inspired. Which means learning to scroll on the dash again >.< The ask box will always be open for your thoughts, feelings and confessions, etc. Go wild!
I also made the new blog because I wanted to have different content there than here. I decided I wanted to keep this blog sfw and leave all my wips and things as they are for me to come back to without having to see them. While I was fighting with myself over which works would go on which blogs, I posted some things there which should have gone on this blog and vice versa. I'm still figuring things out.
I think for the time being it will just be a blog for me to spill thoughts while I try to get back to writing properly, it will probably be messy as I try to sort myself out. This blog and afterbluehours will likely be on hiatus until I get back into working on my wips or whatnot.
I've noticed my hybrid works posted here are getting some love recently which makes me so happy. I've been on my supernatural/hybrid/werewolfy shit so hard this year (2025), so if you want more of that or you wanna come and yap with me about that kind of stuff over at @wildmoon-rising that would make me so happy. I haven't posted much there yet but please be warned that it will be both SFW and NSFW and it won’t be everyone’s cup of tea. It will be totally unhinged and feral if I get to have my way with it and don't get in my own way!
A random thought lead to staring at the wall for a while trying to figure out if hybrids would be allowed to drive cars in my hybrid au. This is why nothing gets done.
Warnings: descriptions of punishment that are akin to torture, mentions of wounds, I think that’s all but please let me know if not!
Note: This is kinda all over the place and not much happens really but it’s something to read? I've been sitting on this since February and I just want it out of my drafts lol. Inspired by a scene from my favourite book series.
Word count: 833
It had been somewhat of an ordeal to be standing on the outside of the castle gates this night. It had involved sending the personal guards posted outside your bedroom on a wild goose chance for invisible intruders and outsmarting the watchers who patrolled the great gates. You had gone to a lot of trouble to leave the castle walls, but with urgent cause.
The night was chilly, the freshly fallen snow covering everything in a layer of white that glowed in the moonlight. Beneath your cloak, however, you were stiflingly warm, with both the stress of your mission and the pace you had set, though your heart was pounding at a much quicker speed than your boots on the cobblestones. There were few people on the street at this late hour, but you did not wish to attract the attention of those that were—you would surely be recognised if anybody stopped you to enquire of an emergency.
Once you had passed the light of the tavern and slipped into an alleyway, you felt assured you were safe from curious eyes and broke into an almost run, careful still of the frosty surface beneath your feet. You weren't all that concerned with your own safety at this time, but still aware that if you were to slip and break, say, your neck, your little expedition would not go unnoticed.
As the alley came to an end beside the baker's shop on the corner of the square, the scene unfolded before you just as you had imagined it. Still, it stole your breath more than the exertion and the cold air combined. In the center of the square, on one knee, arms shackled outstretched above his head like a bird's wings prepared for flight, was your oldest companion and object of your heart.
You had grown up beside Yeonjun; your fathers were the closest of friends and he had been the only other child inside the castle walls. The two of you had shared everything, been there for each other through everything - from the death of your mother to the the loss of his father, from his initiation into the royal guard as he followed in his father's footsteps, to your father marrying again and, most recently, his death. Yeonjun was the only person you knew was a genuine friend. He never asked anything of you, always told you what he really thought, only ever saw you for who you were. There were no pretences.
As you approached him your concern grew stronger. His raven hair hung in his face, his head drooped low against his chest. His shirt, too thin to be of any use against the dropping temperature, was stained with blood and torn in places, revealing shredded skin. The evidence of his punishment, forty-eight hours of penance in the square and one hundred lashings. Your mouth grew dry at the realisation that these were only the injuries you could see; most of the lashings would have been delivered to his back.
At the sound of your footsteps, he stirred, his head lolling to the side to see who might be coming—his punisher or a sympathizer. You lowered your hood, and it seemed to take a few moments before he recognized you—or maybe that you were really here—having gone without food for so long and likely being in a great deal of pain. His arms, which had been shaking, suddenly stopped. You knew he was trying to protect you from seeing the state he was in.
Yeonjun's eyes focused as you stood in front of him, and you could tell that his lips had been bitten right through; blood glossed the otherwise dry skin, and you imagined they weren't only dry from from the cold air but from panting and gasping with pain. He looked pale even in the soft glow of the warm lamps that lit the square. You knelt so he wouldn't have to strain his neck any further to look at you. His breath came out in a fog as your heart wrenched. This was just one more thing the queen had done to break you.
“I thought I might see you here,” his voice was gravelly, not the one you were used to. This was the most ragged you’d ever seen him. "Though I had hoped I wouldn't. You shouldn't be out here alone—"
"I'm in better shape than you," you quipped, trying to lighten than the mood. He always put your wellbeing above his, but in this situation you couldn't bear to hear it.
He tutted, but his eyes looked a little brighter. “You always are. Where’s your new guard?”
“I outwitted him,” you replied, proudly.
Yeonjun scoffed. “I knew I should have gotten the job. You’ve never been able to outsmart me.” It was good to see that in this condition he still had his good humoured nature about him.
Your mouth twitched with a smirk before you changed the mood with solemn words. "I would've been there. I tried to come to the trial as soon as I heard, but Stepmother had me barred.” You watched as Yeonjun awkwardly tried to bring his other leg forward to take his weight, noticing the holes that had formed in the knees of his pants from kneeling all day. "I tried to talk to her but—“
Yeonjun’s eyes flashed with worry. “You need to be careful around her."
"I know," you said quietly, looking away from his eyes while trying not to look at his wounds. “What did she sentence you for? Nobody would tell me.”
“I spoke against your betrothal," he sighed, more fog filling the air between you. Your eyes met his again hearing this. “I thought I was in good company, but I guess even friends can betray you for the chance of earning the queen's favour." Now he was the one to look away. “Forgive me, princess."
"There's nothing to forgive. You know how I feel about him.” Glancing around to check there was no one close by, you placed your hand on Yeonjun's knee. It was freezing and the skin that peeked out through the ripped fabric was almost at breaking point. You wished you could have brought something, even just a blanket or some food, but coming here was a risk in itself. It was more than likely that if anyone helped him in any way, Yeonjun would be the one punished for it.
"I was gone for some days. I knew there was a chance that…”
Your hand gently patted above his knee. “I’m still as indifferent about him as when you left." A hint of a grin flickered in the comer of his mouth.
Yeonjun had been chosen by the king, your father, to be one of the guards to escort his coffin to the royal crypt. Your father had always had his own love for Yeonjun, as if he was the son he never had. He was favoured among the guard, and the other men knew it. They also knew he held your favour.
Your stepmother, the queen, on the other hand, held no affection for him. With your father gone you were her bargaining chip to forge alliances with. You would marry whoever she saw fit, whoever offered the most advantageous union. It was clear she held no love for you, either. But of course, your heart belonged to Yeonjun. You were certain he knew, deep down. Sometimes you were sure he felt the same. But then he would switch to his professional persona, completely change his demeanour and leave you second guessing yourself.
“We should both be more careful,” you thought aloud.
You realised his arms had begun to shake with the strain again and you wished you could do something, anything, to soothe him. You wanted to reach for him further, but you thought better of it.
"Yes," his voice was serious again now. “You shouldn't be alone with a man, especially at night."
A burst of laughter broke from you and you spotted a flash of the whites of his teeth. “You’re not a man, you’re the boy I’ve spent my whole life with. Besides, what are you going to do? You can't move your arms.”
“You always aim for the low hanging fruit,” he chuckled.
A rush of wind came, causing Yeonjun to tense and wince, closing his eyes tightly. You moved your hand from him, afraid of adding to his struggles. "Is it unbearable?”
He looked up at you under the tips of hair that the wind had tousled into his eyes. "Not while you're here."
The sound of laughter came from a nearby establishment as the door opened, capturing both your attention. The light that spilled out from inside was warm and inviting, and you turned to see your dearest friend’s eyes laden with longing, probably picturing the blazing fire in the hearth, as were you.
You looked up at the long board that held his wrists in shackles. You had seen it before, of course; it was a permanent fixture in the square since your father had married that terrible woman and submitted to her views on punishment. Perhaps these punishments had never been necessary before she became queen, as nobody had ever had any treasonous feelings towards your mother or father, and neither of them were the kind to use torture as a method of penalty. You had never attended these new dealings of punishment, always scheduling your tutor at the same time to be in order to avoid being made to go. Thus, this was your first time seeing a person in this position. “I wish I could get you out of here.”
Coughing brought you from your thoughts, racking Yeonjun’s exhausted frame. “Only, what? Thirty-six hours to go? I’ll survive.”
“You’d better,” you quipped, doing your best to keep the worry from your voice as you felt you needed to keep up with his humour to help him through.
“Was it terribly boring without me?” The question was delivered with a hint of mischief.
“Oh yes,” you looked away casually. “There’s been no excitement whatsoever. Except the queen making plans for celebrations we can’t afford and firing staff who have worked in the palace since before I was born.”
Yeonjun wasn’t only trembling from the stretch of his position but also the cold of the night; his breathing beginning to shudder harshly. The thought came to you—the only thing you could do. Grabbing the ends of your cloak between your fingers, you knelt up to wrap your arms around his neck and pulled yourself in close to him.
“What’s this?” he asked, voice sounding both caught off guard and tired.
“Body heat,” you replied. You were thankful he couldn’t see your face as you said it. This was the closest you had ever been to each other, pressed so flush together this way.
He hesitated for a second before dropping his chin to your shoulder. You heard him sigh, before playing it off as a cough, ever the stubborn one. “You’re so warm.”
It was obvious that he wasn’t putting much of his weight on you, though he probably needed the relief after holding himself up like that all day, still on bent knee for the queen long after she’d gone back to the castle and gone about her day.
“I would stay with you all night if I could.”
Though the words had not passed between the two of you, you were certain he knew how you felt. Sometimes you were sure he felt the same way; adoring eyes and inside jokes, a hand lingering on your own longer than it took for you to step down from a carriage after your father had lead ahead. But then doubt always whispered in your mind. Could these not be the feelings of a close friend? A brother to a sister? A subject to royalty?
“I’m sure a princess has better things to do,” He teased over your shoulder. Suddenly his body tensed slightly against you. He pulled himself away from you, breaking the circle of your arms around his neck. “You’ve got company.”
You followed Yeonjun’s eyes to see the man who was now named your guard entering the square, the cloak of those in service to the queen recognisable even in the dimness of the moonlight. “Drat.” It took quite an effort not to roll your eyes as you turned back to your friend with a regretful air. “I’ll come back tomorrow night.”
“I don’t want you getting in trouble.” His eyes, full of sincerity but with that familiar sharpness that conveyed he really meant it, followed yours as you stood.
You wanted to make a joke, but you couldn't find it in yourself to lighten the mood at this moment. Instead, you simply nodded your head to show you understood, making no promises. Then you steeled yourself, gathering the strength to hold a neutral demeanour as you head towards the guard who would lead you back to the castle, hoping against hope that your stepmother had not been informed that you had been out of its walls. She would know without questioning that you had been to see Yeonjun. You didn’t let yourself look back as you left the square, though every part of you begged for you to turn around just once.
Back in the castle, guards posted outside your door, you couldn’t rid yourself of the shivers that wracked you. It wasn’t the cold—your chamber was still toasty from the fire the attendants had set earlier in the evening, still crackling gently at this hour—but the reality of the situation that weighed heavily on you after your outing. Looking around the room you were engulfed by an emotion you could not name—anger, guilt, sorrow?—on finding yourself amongst warmth and luxuries while he endured the bitter cold and harsh penalty beyond these walls.
Maybe the queen could sleep soundly tonight, but you would not. You couldn’t face the bed, the sight of the plush blankets and pillows tightening the ache in your chest that had only intensified with your visit. Shaky hands untying the cloak around your shoulders, you set yourself down on the floor, pulling it over your frame as you stretched out, your arm the only semblance of a pillow. The cloak was still wet where it had dragged through the fresh snow, but you didn’t care. Staring vacantly into the glow of the fireplace, your mind replayed what you had seen. You couldn’t help but feel that this was only the beginning of your troubles, as if you were on the precipice of something you were set to fall from. You would not let your stepmother take Yeonjun down with you.
written by mapofthemazeinthemirror - do not repost my work in any form
snowghoul
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