future-ph3nix

[future-ph3nix]

[future-ph3nix]

Excuse me ??? 😱

[future-ph3nix]

I need to stop playing this game in public transport.

[future-ph3nix]

The LADS fandom is so horny though, I might actually end up writing smut because of it. 🙄

[future-ph3nix]

Me before Sylus :

"Aww they’re so cute, I feel bad for dating them all at the same time. "

Me after Sylus :

"Xavier/Zayne/Rafayel who? Never heard of them."

[future-ph3nix]

Hey there babygirl. Why so angy? 🤤

[future-ph3nix]

Inspooooooo

short & impactful

"Stay."

"Just go."

"I hate you."

"Because I love you."

"Don't leave me."

"Leave me alone."

"I need space."

"Don't go."

"Talk to me."

"I want only you."

"You need to move on."

"Please, speak to me."

"This will end now."

"I want to forget you."

"Hate me."

"Why?"

"Lie to me."

"I can't do this."

"Tell me."

"I'm just afraid."

"Please, leave."

"You can't leave me."

"I need you."

"Don't do this."

"Just stop."

"It's over."

"Tell me the truth."

"I can't lose you."

"We're done."

"Please."

[future-ph3nix]

Cuteness overload. Oxy, ily.

there was a beloved Anonymous individual who asked quite a while ago for Ais X MC X Vere in any form i could manage it.

I've never posted a piece to Tumblr without first posting it to my AO3, but this is just wayyy too short to go on AO3. So, beloved Anon who asked me for Ais X MC X Vere, i hope you enjoy this ficlet <3

inspired by the "blanketed in snow" prompt, the third of the three prompts from the Winter Event, like the other two Winter fics i posted over on AO3 here (KurasXMC) and here (MhinXMC). I'll finish the proper fill for the snow prompt someday.

Rating: Mature(-ish)

Pairing: Vere X Ais X MC

Word count: 356

POV Second Person, Gender Neutral Reader.

Mostly fluff~! love you <3 enjoy~!

You’re drawing your breath in preparation to sit up — to withdraw from the cocoon of warmth and don your clothes and make your way back to Eridia — when sharp fingernails under your chin guide your eyes to Vere’s sleepy pink gaze.

“Stay, won’t you?” Vere asks while toying with your hair, raking through the strands and skimming against your scalp. “It’s much too late for you to trek all the way back to the city…and the snow is far too deep…”

The request brings you up short. You don’t want to trudge through the snow back to the city, even with Princess as an escort, but you’ve never stayed after, before. Whatever’s between Vere and Ais, however they’d like to label it, has always felt too inviolable. You’d feel like you were intruding. You’ve always left after—always.

And even though Vere is asking you to stay, it doesn’t feel like you’re allowed.

Your reply is quiet and hesitant. “Only if Ais wants—”

An arm winds around your waist and pulls you back until Ais’s nose rests against the nape of your neck. His chest is warm on your shoulders and spine.

“Stay here,” Ais demands, low and soft. “Stay warm.”

His breath on your skin makes you shudder. 

Still, though, you hesitate. They’re only trying to be nice, after all, what with all the snow…

“I…” Your jaw works for a few moments, but you can’t manage anything more. You’re not sure what to say.

Vere shifts and slides and maneuvers until he has a leg threaded through yours and your forehead is pressed against the hollow of his throat. A crimson red blur flares in your periphery as the silky width of his tail settles right alongside Ais’s arm around your middle.

“We want you to stay,” Vere insists and you can feel his pulse through his skin.

“We want you,” Ais mumbles against your neck.

You’re struck with silence, again, though for a much more positive reason. You do finally manage to fight through the lump in your throat, though, and the words are almost softer than the snow falling outside:

“Then, I’ll stay.”

[future-ph3nix]

Relatable 🙄

universe give me the strength to finish this wip TT_TT

[future-ph3nix]

you won't leave me right?

[future-ph3nix]

👀

Was tired of only having vibes and wanted to show my Unnamed!MC's relationship with Vere because Theya's dynamic with Vere is So Fucking Funny in my head but I am so bad at getting into Vere's head for dialogue purposes

The Wet Wick is bustling this time of night, the walls lit by flickering lanterns and the massive fireplace off to the side of the room. Leander's commandeered that area, sitting sprawled across the plush armchair and locked in what looks to be a decidedly one-sidedly serious discussion with another gang leader. Theya notes the purple strip looped around the man's arm, and then looks away. The Wick may not technically belong to the Bloodhounds, but their marks were all over the place. It was foolish for another gang come wandering in to make trouble.

Theya sits alone at a table in the corner, out of their line of sight. On the table, her fingers trace the chipped edge of the mug and nurses a cup of tea. It's an unusual choice for the alehouse, but seeing as she didn't drink in public her options were extremely limited.

The door opens again, bringing with it a chill gust of wind. Theya's sharp eyes dart over to see who had come in, and just as quickly begin searching for a quick escape through the crowd. She doesn't know why she bothers as blood-red eyes spot her instantly. A toothy smirk curves an unfairly pretty mouth, and she barely has time to bite back a scowl before he strides confidently to her table. Eyes follow him all the while, a mixture of attraction, eagerness, and nerves in every one. Dinner and an unexpected show.

"Theya, what a surprise. I didn’t think they served tea in this cesspit. Well, not anything decent at least," Vere leans against her table. His tail flicks lazily behind him, shaking off the few flakes of snow that had managed to cling to the fur.

Theya doesn't look up, refusing to engage. They both know it won't last. "They don’t. I bought the leaves myself and asked to use the kitchen's kettle."

"And decided to enjoy it in the darkest, drabbest corner of this place?" Despite his words, Vere slides into the bench opposite her, uninvited and utterly uncaring. "What happened to your aspiring sugar daddy? Did Leander stop paying for your bathwater and leave you completely destitute?"

"Wow, calling me a desperate whore and a gold-digger," Theya rolls her eyes as she glances up at Vere with an exasperated scowl. "That's so original and not at all super repetitive and boring. Try again. If you're about to ruin my evening at least make it interesting."

Vere's eyes light up, his smirk splitting apart into a toothy grin. Behind him, the shadows on the walls writhe and curl as though they might leap from the brick and mortar. Theya lets her eyes flicker over them before looking away, careful not to stare too long. She still remembers the feeling of Vere's hands around her throat, and she hates it. Hates the smug tilt of his head, the predatory gleam of his gaze. Hates that she cannot bring herself to back down in the face of his words, cannot help but meet his cutting derision with equally incisive retorts.

"Careful darling," the fox drawls. "You almost sound like you're not happy to see me, and we both know where that resentful road leads."

Theya sneers. "I'd rather swallow shards of glass, throw them back up, and then swallow the bloody pieces again than play your sycophantic games."

Vere leans back, watching her with an amused look on his pretty face. "The more you fight, the more interesting the chase becomes."

"I thought you didn't care about most people?" Theya threw the words back in his face as she sipped her tea, tasting honey at the bottom that hadn't finished dissolving into the hot water. Gold clings to her lips and she licks them clean.

Vere's half-lidded eyes unabashedly follow the smooth motion of her tongue, and something hot singes across the skin of her shoulders beneath her cloak and up to her cheeks.

The fox stiffens in his seat, and no. Absolutely not. As composed as she can manage, Theya rises to her feet and levels Vere with a cool glare.

"Find someone else to harass, Vere. I have more than enough problems without the likes of you bothering me."

It's the wrong thing to say. The likes of you. It claws into Vere's pride, she knows. It's why she said it in the first place, but the misstep is clear when his voice drops into a smooth, icy drawl. Ice over a lake, hiding horrors beneath.

"Problems, huh?" He hums, crossing his legs and never taking his eyes off face. His eyes grow wide and flay, pupils vanishing into a red so unnaturally bright it makes her brain hurt. "Like your sister. Dione, was it? How tragic. If only you weren't cursed, you might have been able to save her."

"Don't," Theya hisses quietly.

"It must hurt," the fox continues, unperturbed. "All the way down to your bones. That you didn't even know she was dead until it was your turn to die."

"I said don't."

"Just picture the look on her face when the sacrificial knife came down. When she finally realized her big sister wasn't coming for her. My, I wonder what her last words were."

"Probably that she wouldn't want her name in the mouth of a yapping beast!" Theya snaps, loud enough that a hush falls over their corner of the bar. The two stare at each other, dark brown into seething scarlet, and Theya briefly wonders if this was how she dies. Defiant to the very end.

Then a tattooed hand falls on Vere's shoulder. It's matched by the gloved fingers pulling her away from the table.

"Theya! There you are," Leander gathers the woman up into his chest and chivvies her away from the two monsters. Theya lets him move her, and refuses to look back at the blood-red eyes boring into the back of her head.

[future-ph3nix]

DONE WITH DRAMA, BACK TO TS BRAINROT! 😌

[future-ph3nix]

Since the ability to reply to this directly has been removed from me even when I don’t think I was being disrespectful in any way, and my handle is visible in their screenshots, here goes :

1 - I don’t follow you. Someone I follow unfortunately reblogged you. That’s just how tumblr works honey.

2 - Same with creative ideas. You post them. Someone reblogs them. More people see them. It’s a platform made up of creatives. Don’t want to share? Then just don’t share.

3 - Are you the authority on what’s a creative idea and what’s a fictional trope? Everything’s a rehash of sth else in some way. Wth is « WELL ESTABLISHED"?

4 - You’re comparing fanfiction to fanart which is nonsensical. Copying an existing drawing is not the same as writing based on an idea, considering there are as many spins possible on it as there are writers. If we go there, fanarts start up as abstract ideas before being realized. You could give one prompt and get 100 different drawings from them.

As an example you reposted this :

But this also exists :

Same idea, different art styles, different characters and it wouldn’t occur to me to accuse either one of plagiarism.

5 - Did you purposefully ignore what I said about crediting (when possible) and actually asking OPs for permission ?

K', bye.

[future-ph3nix]

Kay', been blocked for tamingly voicing my opinion. Noice. 👌🏽

[future-ph3nix]

Is "can I write this?" acceptable?

Maybe unpopular opinion but not all people who post ideas/headcanons are writers to begin with… And even writers get ideas they know they won’t have the dedication to fully write about. That’s the beautiful thing about fandom communities IMO. You think about something, don’t have the time/energy to put the exhausting work in, but would love to see it seeing the light of day so you just put it out there as it is.

And I would never use an idea that isn’t my own without crediting but there were times I asked the OP if I could "steal" their idea and never got an answer, so I sadly gave up on it. Never got to the point of using someone else's idea but sometimes, a sentence from a random person on tumblr can spark a fire of inspiration and my opinion is it’s a shame to repress potentially good stories for the sake of "idea copyright", as long as some etiquette is respected. I myself wouldn’t mind if people built/extrapolated/alternate ended upon something I wrote or talked about, even without credit. Especially considering that in fandom, popular HCs end up becoming tropes so involuntarily copying someone else becomes inevitable in the end?

Also this whole way of thinking goes against everything that defines fanfiction in the first place? We're all basically looking at texts we love and deciding "I should write about this".

Idk, if I had an idea so revolutionary that I didn’t want anyone to use it before me, I wouldn't post about it in the first place.

And if I want to post it anyway, I’d at least add a please don’t use mention or something.

i'm gonna hold your hand when i say this but commenting "i should write this" on someone else's post is crazy work

[future-ph3nix]

you know you’re a writer when…

you spend 30 minutes choosing the perfect synonym for “said” only to change it back to “said.”

you google “how long does it take to bleed out” at 3 a.m. and now the FBI is probably watching you.

you write one sentence, stare at it, rewrite it 14 times, and somehow end up back at the original version.

“this scene is so important” but you have no idea what the scene actually is or why it’s important.

you come up with the best story ideas… in the shower… with no way to write them down.

your characters feel like real people but also you’re like “who are these guys and what do they want from me?”

your brain says “start writing!” but instead you reorganize your desk, reread your notes, and spend two hours naming a side character who shows up once.

you’ve cried over your WIP exactly 67 times and will do it again because the pain is the point.

you reread something you wrote and think, “wow, did i peak as a writer three months ago?”

every writing session begins with the sacred ritual of scrolling social media, opening unnecessary tabs, and procrastinating until panic sets in.

you have no idea how long a chapter should be, so you just… vibe.

you can’t watch tv or movies without mentally critiquing the plot, dialogue, and pacing.

your writing playlist is 98% vibes, 2% songs you’ll actually listen to while writing.

you keep a “murder notebook” but swear it’s not suspicious because it’s for your novel (probably).

the phrase “just one more draft” is your eternal mantra, even though you’ve rewritten this thing more times than you can count.

[future-ph3nix]

Sounds right. What a manipulative little shit. I love him.

Leander doesnt usually get properly sloshed because I feel like he has an incredibly high tolerance. BUT he does pretend it's lower. People's lips get looser when he's slurring his words and flushed all tipsy-like. It makes him seem more harmless. The intimidating height and broadness of his build isn't as apparent when he's giggling and slumping onto the bar.

It also gives him an excuse to be relentlessly clingy and sappily affectionate with you.