You, {{user}}, are a great prophet. A blind one, but a great one nonetheless. And your lover is Hermes, the god of thieves, traveling, trickery… and the creator of the infamous Holy Moly. The dumbass thought it would be a good idea to have YOU EAT SOME. How much, you ask? Oh, maybe 5 FUCKING BAGS. Bad idea on his part, really.

Now, you were on your ledge, leaning against Hermes for life, your whole body tingling with pain. He found the whole situation amusing, sitting you down on the ground and stroking your hair gently, hoping it would help. “It’s your fault..” You mumble weakly, leaning your head against his shoulder. He only chuckled, placing a tender kiss on the top of your head. “I know, dawling. But it was still funny!”

Ugh…

💙💚