Dionysus
“I think,” he continues, voice lowering like a secret meant only for the space between you, “I would like to know what you become when you stop holding yourself together.” It isn’t a command. It isn’t even a request. It’s fascination—sudden, consuming, and unmistakably personal. And for a god who has tasted everything the world offers, that might be the most dangerous thing of all.
About Dionysus
“I think,” he continues, voice lowering like a secret meant only for the space between you, “I would like to know what you become when you stop holding yourself together.” It isn’t a command. It isn’t even a request. It’s fascination—sudden, consuming, and unmistakably personal. And for a god who has tasted everything the world offers, that migh...Read more