#should i tag spoilers??? it's very vague here

[joejhang]

my problem with raven!neil

this may be controversial but i've actually found that i don't rlly like raven!neil fics and aus. and here is my thesis. spoilers ahead continue at ur own risk.

crucial distinction here is that i don't actually dislike the concept of "raven!neil" as an individual character concept. i think it's actually very interesting to look into the sort of person neil would be if things had been slightly different. that is, obviously, the point of au fics and headcanons. my actual problem with raven!neil is mostly when fic writers and the fandom in general put him in context and into au fics and then the problems start arising. i'm being purposefully vague but i'm gonna go into all the problems i've come across when it comes to raven!neil.

first off, and this is something i've mentioned before, i think the fandom tends to strip abuse victims (particularly the characters who got out of the nest) of literally any agency or individuality. this happened with jean, when the whole fandom seemed to collectively uwufy him as if he isn't an adult (yes he's young yes he's barely an adult but he IS and i would argue thinking of him as a child still does him no good) with massive amounts of trauma. yes, jean has a learned fear of riko and tetsuji (and coaches by extension bc of the abuse from raven coaches) but he actually doesn't harbour much fear towards anyone else? he has come to expect violent retribution/punishment and does sort of have this problem where he bares his throat for the knife (when he puts the racquet in rhemann's hands and when he expects laila to hit him back) but other than that he actually doesn't demonstrate a lot of fear or panic when engaging with others.

i think the same would go for neil. the neil in current canon quite literally has no fears that do not trace back to his father. he doesn't fear riko, tetsuji, ichirou, andrew, drake or even lola and his father's men. where he does show fear is whenever his father gets involved. he isn't afraid of riko or anything riko has to say until riko brings nathan wesninski into it. the closest thing he comes to fear for anyone else is when he flinches from wymack but i'd call that survival instinct rather than like...fear. he doesn't have much of an emotional response, just an instinctual and physical one.

we obviously have no idea how neil's fear would develop if he had grown up at the nest. i'm not sure how much of a difference it would've made, honestly. obviously, those eight years on the run heavily reinforced his fear, so i don't really know where that fear would go if he was stagnant at the nest and confirmed (?) to be safe from his father. i think one of neil's key personality traits actually is his bravery and fearlessness, so i can't really see neil ever being truly afraid of tetsuji and riko. if you want to compare jean and neil in this aspect, all i'd say is: people have different responses for trauma. neil is not jean 2.0 or vice versa. even if they were put in virtually the same environment with the same treatment, they are still different people with different personalities. thus, they respond in different ways. just like jean and kevin responded in different ways, though their situations are implied to have been very different.

besides the point of fear and object of fear, i don't actually think being afraid of ur abusers means ur a baby that should be coddled and uwufied by the fandom. it's actually completely normal and human, so i actually have no clue why the fandom decided to do this with jean.

as someone in the tags of one of my previous posts so aptly said, autonomy ≠ agency. did kevin and jean have autonomy in the nest? no. but they did have agency. stripping abuse victims of agency and personality is actually so harmful and i think it's way too normalised in fandom culture. but that's a discussion for another day. we've all heard the comparison of the fear responses in relation to andrew (fight), neil (flight), kevin (freeze) and jean (fawn). i actually think these are mostly accurate, but it doesn't do any good to simplify it so completely.

neil having to remain sedentary rather than running away and never stopping or looking back is inevitably going to alter his responses to situations. neil's knee-jerk reaction to traumatic events or news in the og trilogy is literally: go on a run. this might still be the case in the nest, but i doubt it. i've said before that i think neil is the type of person to fight back. u could argue in response to that that jean was also fierce and angry when he got to the nest but developed something akin to learned helplessness where he simply stopped fighting back as a trauma response. but again: neil and jean are not the same person. they may have similar personalities, but everyone is different. you can't boil down all the victims of a particular abusive situation into the same person. this is stripping them of agency and individuality, once again. jean learned to stop fighting back and even ask for violent punishment for "wrongdoing" but i honestly don't think neil would. again, not because he's superior or inferior to jean, he's just a different person entirely. his time at evermore in trk was effectively a trial run for the time that riko intended neil to spend there after the year ended. we don't know exactly, but it's probably safe to assume that riko tried to cram as much of the abuse that kevin and jean received over several years into those two/three weeks. i mean, neil got fucking waterboarded and handcuffed to the bed for fuck's sake. i think at some point neil does say that he bowed his head and played at subservience, but when it really came down to riko and tetsuji trying to force neil to do something he adamantly did not want to do (sign the raven's contract) he literally just refused and didn't relent even under torture. jean even said he thought riko might've killed neil for it. neil was literally ready to die rather than bend to riko's will.

obviously, things would be different with kevin and jean in the equation. i can see neil reining himself in for their sake, but this brings me to another issue i have with raven!neil. and that is the strange need to turn neil into a protector figure. i.e. a human meat shield with a martyr complex for kevin and jean. every time i sense any iteration of this in any fic or hc i literally have to stop reading. it's just so...like random to me. neil has literally not been a "protector" in canon in fact he's almost always the one being "protected" (andrew's deal to literally protect neil from his father, wymack and abby's protectiveness, etc). yes, neil has protective instincts but so does literally every human being. neil is, in my opinion, no more or less protective than anyone else. compare this to say, andrew, who is known for his role as the "protector" (beating up the guys who hurt nicky, killing aaron's mother + getting rid of his addiction, making deals w kevin + neil). i've also written another extensive essay about why neil isn't and will never be the martyr or sacrificial lamb that some ppl seem to want him to be, so i won't go into it here. just please please please read the series back and realise: neil is quite literally the opposite of a martyr. i just have no idea where the idea of neil as a martyr or protective figure came in. especially in regards to kevin and jean.

it bears noting the first time neil meets riko with kevin there. at kathy's, neil doesn't hesitate to defend kevin and clock riko's shit. but note: defending ≠ protecting. and even if you do want to call that protecting, neil's way of "protecting" has never been in a martyring, self-sacrificial, human shield way. he is almost always on the offensive (clocking riko rather than directly defending kevin, punching riko, etc etc). neil is a natural instigator, and it would be such a disservice to him to erase that characteristic of his in raven!neil fics.

there are also several times in the series where neil's offensive actions have consequences that directly impact his loved ones and other people. like the first time neil insulted riko, a man literally died. the second time, drake attacked andrew. the third, neil took a trip to hell on earth and spent three weeks at evermore. the fourth, the foxes' and other athletes' cars got trashed. there's probably more that i'm not remembering, but you get the idea. neil feels guilt but never regret for this. he literally says verbatim that he isn't sorry for what he said about riko/the ravens even after the cars get wrecked and the others seem to blame him. so while i can see neil ducking his head and submitting to prevent jean/kevin getting hurt, it's also worth noting that if neil really cared that much about consequences, he probably would've stopped openly and loudly insulting riko in public after seth was murdered the first time. neil knew, or at least had a hunch, that it was his fault. did that stop him from doing it again? hell no. it can be both a character flaw and strength, but it's also just a fact. neil does not think that much about consequence. he sort of just does what he wants when he wants. it's a part of his personality. while there's no telling what about his personality would've changed at the nest, the fact that ten years living with a mob boss serial killer and eight years on the run from said mob boss serial killer didn't seem to kill that mouth of his, idk what would.

my final point is that when the raven!neil fic has andreil in it, it turns into andrew "saving" neil from his situation. words can't explain how much i hate this take on things. especially when it usually comes out of nowhere as well. bfr, andrew is not gonna risk his life to "save" some pretty redhead that comes his way without some pre-established connection. i also just think the idea of a "saviour" in a relationship is actually insane. as someone who is consistently pissed off and triggered by imbalance in relationships, this irritates me to no end. andreil obviously are protective and care for each other. that's a known fact. but i feel like w raven!neil fics they tend to exaggerate this and make it insanely one-sided. like andrew is some superhero type figure that needs to save damsel-in-distress neil who has a penchant for out-of-character martyrdom and is trapped in a horribly abusive situation. it sounds like i'm just hyperbolising no this is actually in all of the raven!neil fics that i've read. this exact dynamic. i hate it oh my god. it's not only entirely out of character i don't even think it works for them. like this should not be what their relationship is about or based off of. this last bit might just be a personal thing but i just hate hate hate it and it feels so wrong to force andreil into this kind of a dynamic. just leave my boys alone i'm BEGGING.

the aftg fandom does have this problem that should be addressed where they tend to coddle and uwufy abuse victims (particularly kevin, neil and jean in the context of the nest) and strip them down to easily digestible stereotypes. but this literally could not be further from the truth in canon. y'all forget how actually bitchy neil, jean and kevin are as individuals. kevin's fear of riko and tetsuji is bone-deep, but that never stopped him from picking fights with the foxes and hitting back whenever they had a problem w him (the only exception being andrew, but kevin already said, he lets andrew walk him like a dog out of sort-of thanks that andrew is letting him stay at psu). jean is also sort of an asshole (affectionate) back in the og trilogy and lowk in tsc too. he has a seemingly endless supply of insults for literally everyone and literally thinks about breaking jeremy's fingers for treating him too warily. he consistently gets annoyed when the trojans are too careful with him and remember when he literally threw jeremy to the floor during practice? yeah. seriously, stop boiling down these very traumatised individuals to their fear and history of abuse and erase any other part of their personality that makes them an interesting, well-rounded individual. it's so irritating to read and have to deal with the gross misinterpretation and mischaracterisation of these very well-loved characters. they deserve better, and these things also bely some very pertinent issues within fandom culture at large that should be talked about and critiqued more. jesus this is long anyway thank you for reading.

[sunsetcorvid]

everyone thank @h0ll0wsin for sending me the og image

[razzafrazzle]

another character from die as lovers may, my funney vampire story... had this design bouncing around in my brain for years honestly

[image description: a reference image for an original character named dr. pranali guin, a fat, older dark-skinned woman that has black hair with a white streak pulled into an updo. she is wearing a tight white dress with a cropped black jacket and an orange ribbon around her neck. next to her are blurbs stating that she is 55, that her pronouns are she/her, that she is an aroace woman, and the following: "acclaimed sexologist who is rather humorless. incredibly suspicious of rowan, but isn't quite sure why. not as stern as she looks. has really bad eyesight, but refuses to wear glasses out of spite. loves melodramatic soap operas and keeps a journal detailing every plot point in them. probably autistic." end id]

[radioroxx]

hmmmm mal du pays thoughts tonight

[waterfallofspace]

first time drawing The Boy Himself <3

(not snz, and not perfect, but I'm pretty proud of it so I'm putting it here! Didn't use references, though I did use the popular headcanons about what he looks like <3 not spoiler in my mind so I'm not gonna stick it behind a cut, but I did tag it <3)

[weirdsht]

Cliché - LoTCF & Venion Stan! Reader

notes: ngl i took more time dwelling whether i should make this a series. but i never did two series at once because i can't handle the commitment, so i compromised by making it a long oneshot. ALSO TRIGGER WARNING: I put my psych major to work while writing this fic so...

tags: TRIGGER WARNING PLEASE CAREFULLY READ THE TAGS (dw nothing too graphic for every warning) depression, eating disorder, anxiety, self-loathing, torture and abuse, guilt, like lots of guilt, passive to mild suicidal thoughts, not being able to control your body, catatonic depression, anhedonia, blood, cursing, vague novel spoilers, Taylor Stan being the best brother out there, open ending i think, can be seen as hurt/comfort

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are open and welcome

Buy Me Dessert

Navigation Masterlist Platitude (pt. 2)

Tak Tak Tak

The sound of the horses of the carriage filled your ears as soon as you woke up.

…Wait horses?

How could there be horses when you were sure you were inside a lecture hall?

“Young master I’m glad you’re awake. We are nearing Viscount Tolz’s territory.”

Viscount Tolz? That sounds familiar, but you can’t quite put your finger on it as you just woke up.

You observed the unfamiliar place you woke up in. You seem to be inside a carriage, years of reading manhwas, manhuas, mangas and web novels have gotten you familiar as to what they looked like. 

Observing the interior a bit more, you notice that the carriage you are in seems luxurious. That and the servant riding a horse outside the carriage window just called you “young master”. 

‘Did I transmigrate? I swear I was just nodding off during one of my lectures…’

“You. What date is it? My head feels fuzzy from sleeping in this uncomfortable carriage.”

‘I’ve rotten my brain reading that damn isekai genre. I already know the drill, I should be a villain or something. I guess I should be glad I didn’t end up as an animal, those things have gotten popular these days…’

You silently shivered at the thought of being a bird or a snake.

“I’m sorry about the seat young master. You’re custom cushion should be arriving tomorrow. As for the date, it is currently year 780 of the Felix Calendar.”

Shit

By the calendar mentioned you could already tell what series you transmigrated to. There was only one series you know that uses Felix Calendar.

Lout of the Count’s Family

And it looks like you got sucked into that novel a year before things began.

“As soon as that arrives install it in my carriage. This thing is as hard as a brick.”

Contrary to what you say, the seat is very soft and comfortable. However, if you really did transmigrate as a villain like in all those manhwas you’ve read then you figured you have to act as bratty as possible. 

“I understand young master. We are nearing the villa soon, I’m sure young master Neo has prepared your room so you can rest.”

Fuck. You’re fucked.

Out of all the small villains in existence you just had to steal the body of a dragon abuser. You just had to get in the body of Venion Stan.

Venion out of all people. Even Neo Tolz or Adin or Duke Fredo would’ve been better picks.

But no, the gods of this world just had to put you in the body of an atrocious villain that has no use.

Never mind running away in the countryside while enjoying all the inheritance, there’s no way that black dragon is going to leave you alone.

…And for sure the black dragon is already 3 years old, there’s no saving you now. Anger and despair are already planted in that poor baby’s heart.

Everything moved too quickly to your liking. One moment you were in the carriage, then next Neo was greeting you. After you blinked you’re already in the black dragon’s cell.

‘Can I survive a year before Cale comes here to get the dragon?’

The black dragon can’t use mana, let alone dragon fear. But his vicious gaze full of animosity is already enough to make you feel guilt and fear.

He looked so pitiful. The cell might be spacious, but a cage will still be a cage. He was just there, in the middle of the cell. Chained and unable to fight back.

The buffet in the middle doesn’t help the queasiness you feel in your stomach.

“Do-”

‘Don’t bother with it, I won't be visiting the dragon further.’

The words you want to say are stuck in your throat. Some unknown force is stopping you from uttering them out.

You figured it was so that things would still go according to the plot.

‘I know I wasn’t the greatest in my previous life, but was I so bad that I must experience this?’

Tap Tap Tap

Heels of your shoes tapped against the ground as you walked towards the table. You tried to stop your body, but it was useless. No matter how hard you try to stop yourself you just keep moving.

“Start.”

Your voice- no Venion’s voice said and the torturer started whipping the dragon.

Gulp

There’s a bile in your throat threatening to show itself. However, you swallowed it. The scene may look horrendous, but you didn’t look away. You didn’t stop eating the feast in front of you. You didn’t stop laughing at the small dragon’s demise.

More like you couldn’t.

You wanted to cry. You wanted to go back to your world and curl up in your bed. You wanted all of this to be a dream.

‘Is this the doing of the gods? If so then why must they be cruel.’

“Is there anything else you want to do young master?”

“No just go out. All of you. I will follow in a short while”

Following your order, everyone in the dungeon started heading out. After a few seconds, there was no one but you and the dragon in the room.

Bleurgh!

As soon as there was no one else in the room you vomited. Good thing there was a bathroom attached in the dungeon. The bathroom door was wide open as you puked your gut out, showing the black dragon a view of your pale face. Despite that you didn’t care, your only focus was to get rid of the horrible feeling running through your body.

It’s not as if the dragon would care about its torturer.

That night you spent the entire time in your bed tossing and turning. Too tired to sleep but too scared to face the nightmares you have to combat every time you do.

“Go find a magician or something and commission a temperature-regulating device. I want it installed at the cave before we visit the Tolz territory again.”

“As you wish your highness. However, aren’t you spending a bit too much on a mere pet?”

“You dare think I’m buying all these things for that pesky dragon? I’m buying it for my own comfort, you should be aware of how I want to be comfortable all the time.”

“It seems I made a mistake. I shall prepare everything you desire for the next time you visit the villa.”

Six months has already passed since you became Venion Stan. Adjusting wasn’t easy, especially when there are more times when you can’t control your body than when you can.

But still, you persevered.

It wasn’t like you had a choice anyway. You have already taken over this body so you have to live in it. That and there’s also the fact that you want the original plot to go smoothly.

You want the black dragon to experience justice.

So you persist. Even when the atrocities you did make you puke. Even when you want to kill yourself.

You didn’t

It wasn’t right.

You may not be the original Venion Stan, but it wouldn’t be right to take away the revenge the black dragon deserves. That was why you decided to persevere.

Persevere now and suffer at the dragon's hands later before finally dying.

That was your plan.

You didn’t care about other things anymore. Money, territory, power; none of those things mattered to you anymore. Too disgusted with yourself and everything you have been doing to even attempt to enjoy those things.

However

There’s a silver lining in all of this.

After a month of being in your new body, you have found a loophole. You found a way to combat some of the restrictions to your actions. As long as you sound selfish and villainous enough, you can get away with saying and doing most things.

Using this knowledge to your advantage, you slowly made life for the dragon easier. You bought a lot of things such as cushions, a more comfortable collar, and the temperature-regulating device you just ordered. You also used this fact to lessen your hold on both Taylor Stan and the underworld.

“Venion, I heard you withdrew the people watching over your older brother.”

You scowled at Marquis Stan’s words as if the mere mention of Taylor Stan upsets you.

“Father, what can that cripple do? He has no legs, no power, and barely has any money. Putting people to watch over someone like that will only be a waste of resources.”

Luckily, the marquis agreed with your reasoning and let the situation go while praising how smart you are.

‘Hopefully by this Taylor Stan can gather more information now that my people are now hovering over him.’

That night you managed to sleep for approximately 30 minutes. The longest sleep you’ve experienced since coming over to this world.

Bleurgh!!

It was another torture session and once again you were vomiting everything you ate that week after the session. 

While you were busy trying to not make a mess on the bathroom floor, you didn’t notice a certain young dragon observing you.

He may be three years old and he may not know much but his still smart because he's a dragon. That was why he noticed the changes in his captor that started around 8 months ago. 

The young dragon noticed the hesitation in your eyes whenever you entered the dungeon. How you were puking from self-hatred and not because of how bad the food was like you said. How your laugh is soulless, especially when he’s being tortured. 

How you stagger the slightest bit while standing up after those sessions. How your hands shook ever so slightly from guilt. How you tried to make the cell as comfortable as possible for him despite saying you were doing it for your own comfort. 

How your eyes look more lifeless each time he sees you.

The young dragon noticed all of it. He may not know what caused the change, but he knows that everything you’re doing is against your volition.

“Fuck I lost my appetite already. I’m going back to my room. Feed those scraps to that dragon.”

You ordered your servants on your way out. Walking as if your entire body wasn’t shaking ten seconds ago.

The black dragon just watches you with observant eyes. 

The “scraps” you were talking about were the feast that was barely even touched. It had always been like this for a few months now. You would barely touch your food and give it to the dragon in the guise of treating him like a dog.

For now, the young one accepts the food. He’ll figure out your intentions later.

“Lessen the guards at the dungeon. Remove all the cushions too, I’m going to change them. Do the same thing to the dragon’s collar too. While you’re at it increase the guards stationed at my quarters. Put the guards in the cave to my room.”

It’s the fated day. Time passed and now is already the day the black dragon will be rescued by Cale, Choi Han, and the cat tribe children. You already met them earlier and acted as arrogant as you could.

Hence the preparation. You need to make it look like the dragon was kept in a horrible condition. Of course, he was… but like much more worse conditions.

“Assassins have been increasing their attempts lately. If I see someone assigned to my room not doing your jobs I’m going to feed you to the sharks. Oh, and you.”

You pointed at a random servant passing by.

“Here’s some gold, buy some alcohol from the inn. Don’t tell anyone I was the one who bought it.”

“May I ask what you’re going to do with the alcohol young master?”

Everyone knows that Venion Stan deemed things not noble enough as disgusting. But you felt guilty for pushing that old man around earlier so you made an excuse.

“Depends on my mood. I’m feeling generous so if you all guard my room tonight then I’ll give you the alcohol tomorrow to drink.”

Everyone held in their shock.

“But if you don’t then I’m going to throw each bottle in your heads while drinking real wine.”

With that, you turned around to lie down on your bed.

That night was the same as every other night you spent in this world. Sleepless. However, that night you felt some weight being lifted off your shoulders as you heard the ruckus Choi Han was causing outside.

‘He should be curled up in Cale’s lap while looking at me viciously’

You stealthily peeked at Cale as you walked towards your seat. Just a moment ago he was trying to rile you up by acting obnoxious. It was hard to try and act like you were keeping your composure when you agreed with everything he said.

“What the..!” 

‘Shit did I not put enough strength into my acting?’

You barely felt your blonde hair sway as you slapped the table in supposed shock at Taylor Stan’s entrance.

‘Maybe I should’ve forced myself to eat a little bit more before coming here…’

Gritting your teeth, you ignore the black spots dancing in your vision. Today is a vital day, you can’t ruin the script by fainting because you only ate 3 spoonfuls during breakfast.

Luckily, it looks like everything is going according to the plot. Based on everyone’s reaction, you looked like an enraged noble.

Days following that event were even more chaotic. Not only was the terrorist attack in the plaza terrifying but trying to act as if you were trying to hold on to your position when you just wanted to give it to Taylor was even tougher.

As usual, you persevered.

Comforted yourself at the thought that in a few months, you can embrace death’s sweet presence.

“Do I look different without the blood?”

You felt scared and relieved at the sight of the black dragon that now goes by Raon Miru.

Scared because even though you have resigned yourself to your fate, and felt like you deserve it even, you still feel fear for what’s about to come.

Relief because he looks healthy. Chubby even. You were glad that he was living a good life after he got away from you.

Disregarding your feelings, you let the poisonous fog into your body. Resigning yourself to the four days of hell waiting.

Ugh…

Your body feels sluggish when you wake up.

“What the… It hasn’t even begun yet why does that bastard’s eyes already look dead?”

“That’s what I was telling you human! That punk's eyes tell a different story from his actions.”

Soft. Whatever you were lying down on felt soft. It wasn’t like what you’ve read in the novel where Venion was lying down on the hard ground. The magic collar was also soft. It felt similar to the one you bought for Raon a year ago. 

You would know because you made sure to pick the softest one yourself.

“His eyes look more dead than when I last saw him at that cave.”

Eyes? Were they talking about yours?

You didn’t know. You didn’t care.

You just want everything to end.

Gasp!

Someone gasped, you think it was one of the kittens.

“T-tears! Why is he crying? I only put paralysis in poison earlier.”

Crying? You were crying?

You sit up. It was hard because of the chains tying your arms but you still did it.

As you look down on your lap, tears are indeed flowing.

‘Why am I crying? Wasn’t I waiting for this day?’

Everything was already planned in your head. You get tortured then you will go crazy. Then you will kill yourself and make everyone believe you did it because you’re crazy.

So why are you crying now?

Why are you in tears as if you don’t deserve what’s happening to you?

Why do you weep as though you haven’t committed several crimes this past year?

How dare you do so.

How dare you act so pitifully when the child you tortured is right in front of you?

Shameless. Till the end, you’re so shameless.

Click! 

Thunk!

Beacrox unlocked the magic collar. As he did you saw it falling on the ground.

“Ah, so there really was fur inside…”

Your voice sounded soulless. It sounded so dead that even you were shocked at how you sounded.

But it also felt cathartic.

After two years of trying to act lively. Two years of acting as if you were fighting for something.

You can finally let out your real emotions.

Two years. It took more than two years for you to be granted that privilege. 

“Speak. I heard you bought the same thing for Raon.”

“You really named him Raon…”

Beacrox grabbed your collar. He looked furious. If you remember things correctly, he just heard about the dragon’s story a while ago so you understand his feelings.

“He told you to answer. Why did you buy something like that after 3 years?”

“I was getting tired of looking at the hard metal… There was nothing in that cave but stone and metal…”

Your tears are still flowing. It looks like they were crying a whole year’s worth. 

Despite that, you were not shaking, nor were your eyes looked sad.

Contrarily, you looked like those creepy dolls with soulless eyes that cried in horror films.

That low-key scared everyone in the room.

“Before, when I was three, I saw you shaking every time you came to the cave. Why was that?”

What’s happening? Why is there a sudden interrogation? You signed up for torture not for a cross-examination.

Still, you answered the dragon.

“I can’t tell.”

“Is it related to how you can’t seem to say what you want at times?”

Just how much did that kid notice in the few times you visited him?

“Yes. When are you going to get started? I need to meet with my hyung after this…”

Meet him and then die.

So please hurry up already.

“Hey punk, you sound like you already know what’s going to happen.”

“It’s obvious. This place looks exactly like that damn cave.”

You were getting tired of talking.

Actually, you were tired. Period.

“But it doesn’t look like how I left the cave when you rescued him.”

“Yes, because that wasn’t how the cave I lived in looked like. It looked like this.”

And the “this” Raon was talking about felt more homey. There were soft lights and a bunch of pillows and cushions. There were even some stuffed toys and blankets.

Was this how you decorated Raon’s cave?

You can’t remember.

Not that you care.

“Can we get started already please?”

“I thought you were a sadist, not a masochist.”

Something snapped inside you at that moment. You didn’t know why it was Choi Han’s comment that riled you up. Maybe it wasn’t the comment but the waiting that set you off.

“Just do it already! Are you dumb?! This fucking plot will not move unless you fucking torture me!”

In that moment you felt a searing pain in your chest.

“Argh!”

Blood flowed out from your mouth.

‘So that’s what happens when I try to push the restrictions.’

Coughing out blood when you’re body was already weak from not eating and sleeping enough was bound to cause you to faint.

And faint you did.

“Young master Cale said you were unconscious for 4 days. The doctor told me you were both malnourished and fatigued. One of your servants confessed that it’s an achievement if you eat 4 spoonfuls every meal. The young master also mentioned how it seems like you were forced to do everything you’ve done… Just what is happening? Hmm? Tell this hyung of yours.”

“Hyung…”

In the end, you didn’t get tortured…

“What’s going to happen now? What’s going to happen to me?”

You diverged from the fate carved out for Venion Stan.

That made you scared.

The restriction placed upon you to prevent you from straying from the plot scared you.

“Everything will be okay. But you need to tell me what’s going on.”

Taylor Stan hugged you, and you felt disgusted with yourself that you dare find warmth and comfort in that hug. Disgusted that you dared cry in front of him when you tried to kill him in the past.

But you couldn’t help it.

You couldn’t help that your hyung was soft and caring even though he was stern and strict. 

“I’m scared hyung. I’m a horrible person.”

As you speak you notice Cale in the corner of the room. He was trying to go out to give you two some privacy.

“Please stay.”

‘You deserve to hear the truth too.’

Cale stopped moving at your words. 

At that moment you decided to spill everything. Venion Stan’s role was already done. Even if it wasn’t, you already strayed from the path written for him. So you’re pulling all stops now.

“I’m a horrible person that did horrid crimes. I know that, I did them with my own hands after all. But I didn’t want to do them.”

You felt that stinging pain slowly coming back.

“There are times when I can’t control the things I say or do. No matter how hard I try my body won’t listen to me.”

The taste of blood in your mouth is back. You tried to act as calm as possible and nonchalantly spit it out in a napkin as if you were just wiping your mouth.

“I think it’s the god’s doing. It’s fated that I must be a bad guy for everything in the future to work out.”

You wiped your mouth again.

“I couldn’t resist it. But I found a loophole.”

Wipe

“If I make it look like what I was doing is villainous then my movements will not be restricted as much.”

“So when you removed the people watching over my residence..?”

You nodded while wiping your mouth once again.

However, this time Taylor snatched the napkin out of your hands.

“You’re bleeding..!”

“Ah…”

You were wiping so much blood that it already seeped out. Causing for Taylor and Cale to see the blood.

“I should’ve used a darker colour…”

“Stop talking. I’ve already heard everything I need to know.”

“I have nothing else to say to you anyway.”

The two men started walking out of the door when you called out to someone.

“Young master Cale, can you please stay? I must tell you something.”

The marquis and the young master exchanged a glance before one of them left the room.

“What is it?”

At Taylor’s exit, Raon undid his invisibility.

“It’s not fate.”

Cale and Raon looked at you as if you’d lost your head. Honestly, you wish you did. Being beheaded right now is better than living with these horrible feelings.

“It’s plot. You should know what I’m talking about.”

Luckily, Marquiss Stan left the napkin so you could wipe your mouth again.

“I think the universe, not the gods, made a mistake with me. But despite their mistake, they are insistent on going with the plot laid out.”

You discarded the napkin. It’s already drenched with too much of your blood that it can’t be used anymore.

“But don’t worry. This plot is very beneficial to you. You just have to follow whatever you think is right. You can disregard whatever anyone says. Even if that anyone is a god.”

‘Unlike me’

Cale handed you a handkerchief and you wiped your mouth with it.

“Lastly, I’m sorry Raon Miru-nim. My only choice was to either keep torturing you or throw you out. I couldn’t throw you out, because if I did then you wouldn’t meet the young master.”

“It’s okay… I am great and mighty so I figured out long ago that you were being forced.”

“Thank you.”

With that the dragon became invisible again and the two head out of the room.

Cleanup was easy. Of course, it was. Everything was already planned out beforehand.

The previous marquis was arrested and his people were successfully rooted out. You got sentenced to house arrest.

Meaning, you got a slap on the wrist.

It confused you. Why did you get such a light sentence when you did so many horrible things? It didn’t even feel like house arrest because your hyung always kept you by his side and personally took care of you.

“How about you? How are you and your brother doing?”

You heard Cale speaking on the other side of the communication device. But you just kept your head low and stared at your palms, unmoving.

“That…”

Marquis Stan hesitated.

“His been listless since that day. I checked with an expert and they said his in a catatonic state.”

You blur out the rest of their conversation. It wasn’t like there was a need to listen anyway. There’s nothing for you to do now. Your role is done but you can’t die.

You're tired.

So so fucking tired.

Tired of waking up. Tired of moving. Tired of thinking. Tired of breathing.

Tired of living.

So you opted to not move. Tune out the world around you. Maybe if you’re lucky they’ll leave you to rot in that lavish room of yours.

“Your eyes look more lively today. Do you have enough energy to speak?”

You blinked once. Then twice. You don’t know how many days have passed already. All of them look like a giant blur in your mind.

For the first time in a while, you moved your body to look at your surroundings.

As you take in your surroundings you notice that there’s a storm outside. That and Taylor Stan seem to have put you in the wheelchair he used to use.

“Taylor Stan…”

“Call me hyung.”

Did you deserve to? Well, it doesn’t matter since he ordered you to.

“Hyung”

“Yes, my dongsaeng?”

“Why won’t you kill me?”

The wheelchair stopped in its tracks. It was because the one pushing it stopped walking.

“Why would I kill you?”

“Why would you not kill me?”

You had no way of knowing just how scared Taylor was at this moment. Your voice sounded so soulless. As if you were asking about the weather and not about your death. He was already scared that one day he would just wake up to find you dead. Your questions and your way of asking them are not helping his fear.

“I told you, I wouldn’t kill my family.”

“Ah…”

Silence lingered as the two of you went to your room. Inside, the first thing you noticed was the door on the wall.

“That’s a connecting door. It’s connected to my room.”

“Very fitting for a criminal like me that needs to be monitored at all times.”

“That’s not…”

Taylor Stan chose to sigh instead of answering. After he did, he called the servants to help you with your nighttime routine.

“You all can go now, I’ll take it from here.”

Servants filed out of your room as your brother took the brush from a servant's hand.

“You know that this is useless right?”

“Why is that?”

Taylor continued brushing your blonde hair that now reaches past your shoulders.

“It’s not like I’ll sleep. There’s never a night where I slept for more than 30 minutes. I think.”

“Maybe if I stay by your side you’ll sleep better.”

You didn’t respond. You just watched in the mirror how your hyung gently brushed your hair. At some point, you pulled your legs up to your chest and started hugging them.

Taylor Stan didn’t seem to mind your movements. In fact, he seems to encourage them.

“Let’s eat dinner now. Do you want to walk?”

“No.”

The mere thought of moving more than you already did makes you feel nauseated.

Your hyung nodded and started pushing the wheelchair again. As he did the sight of the food prepared on your table caught your eyes. It wasn’t a feast like how you were served in the past.

Instead, there were just two simple identical meals on the table.

It reminded you of how you used to eat your meals back on earth.

“You’re eating too?”

“I haven’t eaten yet. I figure we can eat together since Cage is not here.”

She must be in the super rock’s villa or something.

Eat together was what you did. Well, more like Taylor ate while you take a few bites and play with your food.

“Do you not want to eat anymore?”

“No.”

“It’s fine, just leave it there. You already ate thrice more than you usually would. It’s okay to take it slow.”

That’s true. You ate 10 spoonfuls today when you would usually just take a bite or two. Three at most.

Maybe a gentle company and a simple meal did the trick. But you aren’t sure.

After the meal, you brushed your teeth before lying down on the bed. Taylor was sitting on a couch beside your bed as promised.

That night, for the first time since you arrived in this world, you managed to sleep almost the whole night.

[dyktvideogamesfx]

Rules and the like!

Song poll blog inspired by things like @doyoulikethis-videogame-song, @doyoulikethissong-poll and Guess the Game.

The general gist is similar to most if not all of these blogs in which a small clip of SFX from a video game will be isolated and posted here, with polls for people to vote on how well known it is.

This page'll most likely be updated the more this kinda stuff goes on.

Should go without saying but transphobes, aphobes and exclusionists are not welcome here.

Submissions are: CLOSED

General FAQ:

Do you take submissions: Yes! Though only when submissions are open. This will be through a google form that will open and close periodically, whenever I have the time!

Will there be scheduled posts at specific times?: Right now I'm scheduling around 3 posts at 4pm GMT every day, though this may change with my own schedule/if submissions are running low.

I'll do my best to keep it going! :D

What is your name/pronouns: You can call me Smudge. He/They. Nice to meet you :3

Can we say the answer in the tags?: I would prefer if people didn't as this goes against the spirit of the game- However, very vague hints are fine by me! Be warey of spoilers in the notes if you want to play along!

My submission wasn't posted?: I will post every submission I get to the best of my ability but if I cannot locate or find the isolated audio I will have skip as game noise can warp or disturb the sound itself. I will do my best to find it isolated beforehand, but if I cannot then it must be skipped, apologies!

A good resource for finding game SFX is The Sound Resource but unfortunatly not every game has a clean rip for its sounds!

Can we submit voicelines?: This is tricky, mostly yes.

I would say things like Hornet's "SHAW" from Hollow Knight count for this blog and I would accept them vs something like a clip from Cave Johnson's Lemon Rant I would not accept! Use your best judgement when submitting, but voicelines and clips are not specifically off of the table.

This SFX was used somewhere else!: This blog will run both on submissions and generally what the sound is more associated with rather than its original source! Not every SFX is original and some are used from specific sound libraries. The Roblox OOF, for example, comes from a game named Messiah - however, since it is more well known for its inclusion in Roblox, thats what this blog will use as its source if thats how its submitted.

I will also be going off of what people say is the Context/Source for a game so sorry if that is ever wrong! If it is entirely, 100% incorrect in terms of where its from you can send me a message and I'll change it!

Can you tag scary/sounds from horror games?: The point of the game is listening to unexpected sounds, and "scary" is an extremely subjective description. I will do my best to avoid posting loud jumpscare sounds or other sounds that I think are unpalatable to a general audience, but beyond that I don't intend on tagging specific types of sounds at this time.

How many SFX can we submit in the form?: I would prefer 4 per person, at maximum, if you submit multiple from the same series I will most likely space them out across a few days/weeks.

Active Tags:

#open vote : Polls that are open

#closed vote : Polls that have been closed and the SFX source revealed

#asks : Asks for the blog.

#off-topic : For anything off topic - may be related to the blog or an update/announcement!

[yuri-is-online]

Was Lilia more “Oh my thorn fairy I have another child?! I can barely cast a spell as of now and future me wants a fucking KID?! AT THAT AGE?!”

Or more of a

I HAVE ANOTHER SON?! AND IT’S FROM ME!?

If his Yutu tells him he comes from the future? Because it could imply he does regain his remaining years and magic. Idk how you wrote that problem that even rn it��s giving talk about Lilia surviving book 7 or not.

If it’s the second I already see him passing by Silver’s room really excited and saying “YOU HAVE A BROTHER!” And zooming off, leaving a very confused Silver and thinking he refers to either Malleus or Sebek.

technically anon asked first but this ask is much longer so it was awkward to screenshot for an answer. Here is the link the anon used for reference, I obligated as an elderly hater to let you know it's from SAO. Anon's idea is extremely good and we're going to roll with it for this Yutu's Uniqe Magic because you know he was always going to be a little shit.

notes: they/them used for Yuu, context on the fyuuture kid au can be found here and here. SPOILERS FOR: Book 7, Lilia's back story, and Silver's unique magic. Please engage with this in mind. For more fyuutre kid au, please check out the series section of my masterlist.

I have a bit of difficult time writing for Lilia given how much older he is than the rest of the cast, so I tend to write his Yuu as being a bit older themselves. Maybe they had an extremely difficult childhood and connected with Lilia over their shared sense of robbed innocence. Whatever it was I think this Yuu has a bit of a fascination with creatures of the night and a lot of their weirdo reputation within their community comes from kids telling each other that Yuu and Yutu are vampires. That makes me tempted to say Lilia! Yutu's real name is Alucard or Sebastian, something vaguely vampire themed.

None of those rumors are helped by Yutu finding himself very lethargic when out in the sunlight or his preference for colder temperatures. From his perspective he can't exactly help being who he is, people should really just get over themselves and let him do his thing. It's not his fault that bats really seem to like him for some reason, the neighbors are exaggerating Mr. Animal Control officer he swears.

Because he prefers to spend his awake hours in the dark, he is waaaaay too comfortable doing things and going places he shouldn't. He's real familiar with all the abandoned buildings and sketchy alleys of your town and has tagged quite a few of them. I like the idea of Lilia! Yutu being really interested in street art and Graffiti. I could see him putting up a bunch of bats everywhere and getting in a bunch of trouble for it. He has very fond memories of Yuu letting him paint murals on portions of their house in an effort to meet him halfway. He might like a good prank but unlike his father Yutu is always pulling his punches with Yuu.

Lilia didn't exactly have a supportive parent while he was growing up, something I feel like Yuu remembers and is very conscious of in their parenting of Yutu. Unfortunately for Lilia they also remember that he had another child and was a lot older than them, something Yutu raises several eyebrows at and causes him to ignore the things Yuu tries to tell him about his "great sense of humor" and "desire for different peoples to learn and grow with one another-" yeah that's great can you back up a bit to where you said he had another family? Yutu goes through life thinking he was the product of an affair Yuu had with a much older, married man who was just trying to feel young again. The amnesia stuff... sometimes he wonders if his dad tried to have Yuu killed. He never says it out loud because something tells him he's wrong, but gut feelings aren't as trustworthy as statistics...

So you can imagine his surprise when he tumbles out of a coffin and is told that his dad was a faerie general bound in service to a family of dragons, veteran of an ancient war, and technically the adoptive father of the Prince of the children of the night and the Prince of the rival human kingdom that killed his best friends. One of which is alive and overwhelmed with joy to meet him. Silver wanted Yutu almost as badly as Lilia and Yuu did so to see him alive and awkwardly squirming in his arms? Silver hasn't cried this much since they lost Lilia and Malleus.

Having a proper older brother, not just the concept, is an extreme change for Yutu. He's used to it just being him and Yuu, and he was sort of expecting Silver to hate him just for existing. Nothing could be further from the truth, Silver wants his younger brother to have the same freedoms he did while attending school but he also respectfully requests that Yutu spend at least some of his free time with him. He tried desperately to find his dreams over the years and was never able to make firm contact, but he doesn't want to pressure Yutu into caring about him. Yutu is didn't realize how badly he wanted other family members until he got to have Silver, he's even willing to take up sword fighting so they can get closer.

Sebek is also overwhelmed with tears upon seeing Lilia! Yutu. He is a bit harsh on him for "not living up to Master Lilia's legacy" because he doesn't know anything about fighting. He does applaud him for his willingness to learn. Yutu thinks Sebek is hilarious and messes with him just as much as Lilia does. Something Sebek is completely willing to let him do because it makes him feel like Lilia never left.

All of the Yutus get to see some of the photographs Yuu left behind, but Lilia! Yutu is especially interested in them. He makes a small photo album of all the ones he can find of his dad, especially ones where he's with Yuu and Silver. He's partially driven by guilt for thinking his father was a terrible person, but really he just wants to feel closer to him. He's half fae, and sure he has Sebek to talk about that with but what he really needs is a connection with his father. Yutu doesn't really care about being a faerie. He just cares about his dad's acceptance, everything else can go hang.

I don't have a name for his unique magic, but going off of anon's idea it allows him to overwhelm his target's mind, forcing them to think about their greatest fears to the point they are convinced they are really going through it. Someone hates spider? All over their face and in their clothes. Crippling fear of failure? Suddenly that emotion is all they can focus on. And if it's a mindless creature like a blot phantom or a monster they become overwhelmed with the sensation that they are unable to breathe and about to die. Yutu can't control the illusion the person experiences so usually he tries not to use it on his classmates.

That changes when he goes into the past. Some rando want to shit talk Yuu? Nightmare. Macho NRC guy wants to rumble? Nightmare. Some random guy jumped out from behind him and yells "BOO!" Nightma-

If Yutu had been just a hair slower he would have been in extreme pain, the dangerous glint in those familiar ruby eyes scream that. The short fae smiles almost cruelly, advancing on him clearly upset even though Yutu has dropped the spell.

"Well now, that's no way to great a senior." Lilia's voice is strangely soothing, it occurs to Yutu that this is probably the first time his father has ever been angry at him and he can't help himself. He laughs,

"Yeah sorry about that." He makes sure to try and be cute about it, which helps to diffuse the tension some what. "You really scared me so it was all I could think to do."

Lilia is very impressed by Yutu's reflexes and control over his unique magic. He is even further impressed by how eager Yutu is to train with Silver. The kid has some real promise and fits into Silver and Sebek's dynamic better than Lilia could have dreamed of. He really hopes the two will benefit from having a relatively normal human friend their age to train with. Maybe he and Yuu will stick around and give him some piece of mind about the kids being in good hands when he's gone.

Yutu hanging around Diasomnia gives him an excuse to chat with Yuu more, not that he exactly needed it. Lilia sort of hates the way he's drawn to you, it feels unfair. Unfair to you to give you hope there could be something more and toy with your affections; unfair to him for life to finally allow him to realize what romantic love is like just in time to have to let it go. There is a bittersweet tone to all of your interactions that his housemates are a bit too socially awkward to pick up on but Cater does.

Yutu is surprised how much he likes Cater, he associates him with a terrifying monster he's had to fight multiple times, not a fun guy who is really determined to help his parents get together. And what's even better he's really chill when Yutu asks for stories about Lilia, he has a lot of them and a completely different perspective than his older brother allowing Yutu to glean some more insight to what his parents might have been thinking in the future.

He finds himself spending a lot of time with the pop music club, not as an official member though he's not great at carrying a tune. Kalim, Cater, and Lilia are glad to have another person to chill with, sometimes they'll play music and Yutu will draw something based off whatever noise they made. Cater wants to talk him into doing album art for them... you know if they ever get around to making a recording.

I think Yutu will only tell Lilia who he is if he has no choice. He wants to mess with the timeline as little as possible, but should a monster from his timeline appear in this one, say like an overblotted Yuu another asker was so nice as to bring up, well it's not like he says who he is. He just addresses the monster as his parent and has a very loud meltdown not wanting to fight them again. Something Malleus is more than willing to assist him with.

"Think nothing of it." Malleus's power is truly terrifying, Yutu is torn between sorrow that he wasn't on their side and relief he didn't overblot a second time. "You are Lilia's son yes? That makes you my subject, and a most precious one at that." Not that Yutu has avoided interacting with Malleus exactly, he's just found talking to him exceptionally awkward because well. He's not Yuu, he's very aware of how important Malleus is supposed to be. But the way he's looking at him now makes him think that maybe he was missing out on interacting with another older brother.

Something that's confirmed when he turns to see how big his father's eyes have gotten, the man is shaking as he stares at his face and flicks between him, Malleus, and Silver like he's staring at the most precious pieces of art in the whole universe.

As you brought up Lilia's survival isn't guaranteed, I did not solve that problem at all. I sort of just... wrote that Lilia would age more or less like a normal human and not really be able to use magic on par with what a fae would consider normal but would still be impressive to a human... so while Lilia might be a bit reluctant to show his face in Briar Valley he would still have enough years to have and raise Yutu. He might have actually died around the same time as Yuu if they had lived a normal life.

He is overwhelmingly excited at the thought of having another baby. Lilia might not know what to do with them but he does really like kids. What's harder for him to accept is his relationship with Yuu. Raising a child is something he's done before, being someone's long term partner is not. He is unused to feeling desirable, and unfamiliar with acting on his own desires. Sure Lilia might seem very free spirited, but much of his life has been dictated by a sense of duty. The thought of having something precious to him that chose him specifically of their own free will is... disarming. He's overwhelmed with how helpless you make him feel and how little he despises it.

Yutu's need to be accepted by his father is met and exceeded almost immediately. Lilia wants to cook a big family dinner for Yuu and all of his boys, something that Malleus politely rejects asking if he can instead show his Culinary Crucible skills off to Yutu (it's really so he can make babiest brother promise to never eat anything Paw Paw makes EVER) and it's all so normal Yutu almost forgets that he's listening to a practical god smugly tell him he knows all about edible weeds as his father flies around him cracking jokes and pinching his cheeks. His older brother is asleep on the couch waiting for the food to be done and his precious parent is helping his Uncle Sebek set the table, listening to him sniffle about how beautiful Master Lilia's family is.

Lilia might be practically retired, but his mind is still sharp. The information Yutu is able to pass on to him lands in good hands. When he tucks Yutu into bed that night, long after the boy has gone to sleep so as not to embarrass him he makes sure to take a good long look at the little miracle. He is beyond grateful Yutu exists, not even the Thorn Fairy could have given him a finer blessing (he'll have to make sure to tease you about that later, that's got to be a good pick up line) He will make sure that this risk his son has taken pays off, Lilia Vanrouge wasn't feared for no reason. Something it seems some foolish mortals need reminding of.

[bea-l-t]

Because I love Andreil fanfics to an unhealthy degree, here are my recommendations (and like a paragraph each for why you should read them). Also all of them are complete. I couldn't get links to any of the locked content to work, but I still included the recommendations for ao3 account users:

For angsty AUs where college and exy are still things:

-Raised on Little Light by maqicien. Where Wymack adopted Neil at age 13. Good if you like lots of angst, edgy Neil that still gets his damsel in distress moments, and some really cute relationship moments in between.

-There's Just No Getting Through by maqicien (can you tell I like this author?). A series of oneshots where Neil is a Raven and Andrew is still a fox and the two date secretly. Technically, this is a series, and the series itself kind of leaves off at a cliffhanger that could be seen as incomplete. Personally, I just pretend that the last paragraph of the last part doesn't exist and we're good to go. Good if you like pining and edgy Andriel. Andrew especially feels very canon with his personality.

-The Road to Nowhere by emmerrr. A post-apocalyptic world where Neil joins the foxes as they all try to survive at an abandoned PSU. Good if you like your fics to still vaguely follow the bigger points of the canon content, some angst, domestic fluff and of course an edgy (but still damsel) Neil. Honestly just extremely well written and the characters feel very canon personality-wise. (Bonus if you like Renee/Allison)

For post-canon lovers (all except one are about an injured Neil):

-Scribbles and Sticky Notes by Fortheloveofexy. A (long) oneshot where Neil faces a career-ending injury. Read the tags/content warnings to get a better idea of what you're getting into, but this fic hurts so good. Featuring a lot of domestic fluff. I feel like this fic feels extremely true to how middle-aged Andriel would act.

-The Bones of You by emmerrr (again, love this author). Neil and Andrew are married in this! Neil gets injured during an Exy match and goes through a difficult recovery. Featuring the Moriyamas, Renee/Allison (mentioned), Kevin& Allison being besties, Wymack/Abby, and domestic fluff.

- You go your way, I'll go your way too by Emmerrr (Cannot emphasize how good their fics are). The only fic in this section that isn't about Neil getting injured! About the time that Neil and Andrew spend doing long distance. It's adorable.

-Pause and Restart My Heart by knoxham. A two-part series where Neil and Andrew get into a car accident, Neil goes into a coma, Andrew has many feelings. Part two obviously has spoilers for part one, but they're both very much worth the read.

-Calling Me Back Once Again by fuzzballsheltiepants. On a ski trip, Neil gets lost during a storm. An angsty wait for search and rescue to find him ensues.

Other POVs of the canon events/books:

-never fallen (from quite this high) by crystalcrow. The series from Andrew's POV. I really like the twins and their dynamic in this.

-Yes, Coach by emerrr (last fic I'll recommend by them, I promise). The whole series from Wymack's POV. It's a digestible length, so 10/10.

Anyway, hope these find fic lovers well!

[myreia]

Anthesis

Characters: Thancred Waters, Aureia Malathar (WoL) Pairings: Thancred/Aureia Summary: To celebrate her most recent accomplishment, Thancred and Aureia slip into an arboretum after hours to admire the views. But Aureia has a different plan about what view exactly he should be admiring. Rating: Explicit Tags: Thancred POV, romance, fluff, semi-public sex, adventures with lingerie Notes: Set in a vague time post-MSQ, mild contextless spoilers for Shadowbringers and Endwalker (Aureia and Thancred are both in their 40s by this point). Partially based on this gpose from wolcred week. 6,022 words Read on AO3

Evening has long since fallen, but the gardens are not silent.

Water drips from the leaves of enormous plants far larger than their wild counterparts. Mist rises, the sheen from the humidity shimmering in the air. Insects hum in a soft symphony, their lights bobbing about in the depths of the blue-green darkness. There is life singing within these crystalline walls, understated but powerful.

The quiet here is a far cry from the party thrown here only a few nights ago. It was a good one, as far as Leveilleur-funded festivities go. Elaborate, stunning, well-catered, magical, with the best bards and musicians from across the three great continents. The new arboretum is deserving of the celebration. A collaboration between the Studium and every other major institute of learning, both of the Source and other shards. A place dedicated to the preservation and study of the flora of Etheirys, both magical and non-magical, across every iteration of their star. Past and present.

Aureia is very proud of it.

She intended to linger after the event wrapped up and show him the sights, enjoy the gardens for what they are and on their own terms without distraction. But between conversing with guests, greeting friends new and old, and getting pulled into one conversation or another, time simply slipped by and they left in due course, exhausted from the conversation but content. A part of him wishes they had stayed. He would have enjoyed the heightened romanticism wandering this place in their evening wear—she was stunning that night in her long black gown, the fabric woven with small crystals so as to mimic the glimmer of stars in a night sky. She’s worn it countless times in the past half-decade, and it never fails to make an impression.

A selfish part of him wishes she had more reasons to wear it. She is beautiful no matter what she wears, but she does a number on his heart whenever she dolls herself up in finery.

And so now they’ve returned alone, long after the doors have been shut and locked, to wander and explore on their own time. Though it feels a little childish to say, there is something enchanting about these galleries filled with greenery he cannot name. The sweeping glass halls, the domed roof looking up to a sea of stars at night.

It reminds him—with a pang—of the Hortorium.

“I wish Ryne could see this,” Aureia says quietly as they ascend a wrought iron staircase to the second level. It twists about in a tight spiral, the climb giving a pleasant view of the gardens below.

Her words do little to absolve the bittersweet heartache that never fully goes away. Despite the passage of years, the distance between the Source and the First remains palpable. Ryne is grown now, with a life of her own in the Crystarium. She writes monthly, but no number of letters can be exchanged for her presence. And so, he replies with the only thing he can, an echo of a sentiment they have both voiced many times. “Perhaps one day she will.”

Aureia slows to a stop above him and glances over her shoulder. “There are flowers from Lakeland here,” she says. “In the west wing.”

Thancred smiles. “I know.”

He rises to her step and sweeps her into an embrace, kissing her deeply in the starlight. She melts against him, a palm pressed above his chest, lingering in the kiss. When at last she draws back, her gaze finds his and she raises her hand, her tips of her fingers resting against his cheek. Ruby eyes warm beneath dark lashes. Threads of grey nestled in the midnight of her hair, interwoven with the streaks of red. Creases around her eyes and mouth. The mole beneath her right eye stark against her pale skin. Familiar sights, all, and yet she never fails to take his breath away.

She never will.  

He's becoming a romantic in his old age. Not that he’s old. Not yet, anyway, as she is fond of reminding him. There may be silver in his hair and he may not quite have the stamina of his youth, but there is still so much of his life left to live. Which is notable for him, given that there was a time when he thought he had no life left to live. It still escapes him some days, this notion of a peaceful life. It doesn’t feel quite real.  

Aureia regards him softly and draws her thumb across his jaw, brushing the faint line of white stubble. “This is new,” she murmurs, an affectionate smile tugging at her lips.

He chuckles. “Well, you know me,” he replies with a shrug. “Never quite been one for it—”

She gives him an arch look.

“—save for a time best left in the past, aye. But admittedly I have been yearning for a change these past few months. I suppose this will do the trick. Whether it makes me scruffy or dignified is yet to be determined, though I suspect Alphinaud will be the first to let me know.”

She curls her fingers around his collar and tugs lightly. “I rather like it,” she says smartly, smoothing the fabric down. The pressure her hands passing over his collarbone stirs something deep within him. “I think you should keep it.”

“That is the intention, aye.”

A pause.

“You’re fishing for something, aren’t you.”

“Well, I wasn’t going to say it, certainly—”

Aureia throws back her head, the stairwell reflecting her tinkling laugh. “If you want to know, yes, I think it makes you look quite dashing,” she says, patting his cheek. Then she kisses him once more, slips her hand into his, and leads him up onto the landing.

They wander the second-floor gallery hand-in-hand, taking joy in their silent privacy. Their footsteps thud quietly against the marble tile, the sound muffled by the enveloping plants. It is lighter here on the second floor, even though the conservatory’s humidity still presses against them. The rush of water trickles in the distance, flowing as swiftly as a river. Large leafy trees curl up to the glass dome, reaching for the stars. The fruits of her labour.  

How many of these have sprouted from seedlings gathered from the world over? How many have come from across the shards? The ancients’ distant past? It was her mind that birthed it. Her heart that cultivated it. Her care that nurtured it. She has come a long way from killing plants on her windowsill in the dim light of the Forgotten Knight.  

It is truly impressive, this work of hers.

“Have you reconsidered?” he asks after a moment. “Your thesis?”

Her pace slows, her hand tugging gently on his. “Which one? You’ll have to be more specific.”

“Your Archon’s thesis.”

“Again, you’ll have to be more specific. Which one?”

He exhales a long sigh. She’s being obstinate on purpose, as she always is whenever this topic comes up. “Any of them.”

“There’s not much to be reconsidered. I’ll finish them when I’m ready.” She pauses, her gaze drawn to the heartblooms poking through the verdant greenery. Though there is a dedicated plot to the Elpis flower on the first level, the blooms have a habit of showing up in unexpected places, shining with faint light. “I don’t need another title.”

“It’s not about the title.”

“Isn’t it?”

“It’s an acknowledgement. Of your qualifications and your contributions.” He glances at her. “Some would say you have contributed more than most.”

“I’m flattered, Thancred, truly, but I don’t think I need it. Nor do I want it.” Her grip on his hand tightens, her fingers twining with his, and she slows their pace. The heartblooms rustle, turning gently towards her as they pass like flowers turning to face the sun, their petals flushed with a soft reddish violet. Though they react to the emotions of all within their presence, the blooms seem particularly attuned to her. “I’m not a scholar, I simply have questions and enjoy finding the answers for myself. I like to have clarity. I like discovery. In some fields that may make me an expert, but expertise does not make an academic.”

“Spoken like a true academic.”

Her mouth opens and yet no words come out. The familiar little crinkle that happens when she can’t think of a good retort forms between her brows; her lips twitch as she holds back a smile, torn between laughter and irritation. She shoots him a glare and raps him lightly on the arm in mock outrage.

He laughs. “Am I wrong?”

With a sigh, she links her arm with his and pulls him further down the path. “You aren’t. But being an Archon isn’t simply about the recognition of skill. It is a Sharlayan position, with Sharlayan connections. And I am not Sharlayan.”

“All the more reason to accept, no? The Forum no longer holds its knowledge behind closed borders. A non-Sharlayan Archon would mean much to Eorzea and beyond. A symbol of the changing times, that all are welcome here.”

“I think I have been someone’s symbol more than enough times. Sharlayan doesn’t need me to be theirs. My work is already based here out of necessity, I’m close enough as it is. I wouldn’t want the Alliance thinking I favour one country over another.” Her jaw tightens. “I’m sorry. I know this is important to you, I just… I don’t think I can. At least not now.”

He squeezes her hand and presses a kiss to her forehead. Though his heart sinks with her refusal, he is grateful she stands her ground. This is a decision she must make for herself, he cannot make it for her.

Another turn and they pass through an archway of stone and glass, stepping out into the central hall. The heartblooms grow bright and plentiful here, their luminescence spreading a gentle glow across the dark paths. He can sense the undercurrent of dynamis weaving around them, tugging at them like the flow of a gentle tide. Subtle, but strong. Strange to think how he can make more sense of it now than aether. It is no replacement for the aether he can no longer control, but perhaps it is a guide to something else. Another unknown in a sea of unknowns.

There is so very little that is constant in his life, save for the one walking at his side. His wife. His partner. His friend.  

The heartblooms pulse around them, flushing a pale pink.

Aureia exhales a soft sigh and slips her hand from his. She approaches the centre of the gallery where it overlooks the floor below and peers down, trailing her fingers idly across the marble railing. The pool glistens, its waters reflecting the moon above where it shines through the glass roof. Dark, leafy flora encroach its perimeter, obfuscating the rest of the level. Fireflies float through the darkness, their pale lights winking in and out. She rests an arm against the railing, the fingers of her other hand toying idly with a lock of escaped hair. It’s wavier than it should be, curled by its time in her high bun.

She glances over her shoulder, an eyebrow raised. “What?” she asks.

She’s caught him staring at her.

He chuckles and shrugs, spreading his hands. “Nothing,” he says quietly.

A small smile tugs at the corners of her lips. Slowly, she steps into him and sweeps him into a silent kiss, her mouth pressed gently, but openly, to his. Her fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him into her. He wraps his arms around her, a hand on her lower back, slipping down to brush her ass. She laughs, the quiet, throaty sound rumbling pleasantly against his lips, stirring desire. When she finally breaks and pulls away, she leaves him breathless and wanting, aching for more. She raises her eyes, looking at him through dark lashes, a coy smile brightening her face, then turns and walks away.

“Aureia,” he calls, his voice echoes through the arboretum, but she does not answer.

Smiling to himself, he follows. 

He finds here meandering down the open path, surveying the gardens with wide-eyed curiosity. Her movements are slow and calm, yet precise with intention—even here, in this moment of peace, the warrior does not leave her completely. She pauses now and then, standing on tiptoe here to examine the giant leaves of a tree he cannot name, crouching there to examine the blue petals of some Thavnairian flower. Each time he catches up with her, she moves onto the next display, acting as if him arriving and her leaving in are a coincidence.

But even she can’t hide that mischievous little grin or the way her eyes light up.

“Aureia,” he calls as the hem of her cloak disappears around the corner.

Tinkling laughter resounds in his ears and her footsteps patter away, her boots clacking against the marble. He follows, but when he rounds the corner, she has simply vanished. He slows his pace, drawing to a stop. Her cloak lies in the centre of the path.

He stoops and picks it up, his heart pounding. So, this is the game she wishes to play. “Fascinating turn of events, Aur,” he says. “Don’t you think we’re a bit old for such tomfoolery?”

“I don’t think we’re too old for anything. Besides, I haven’t the slightest idea what you mean.”

“So, you simply happened to drop things very inconspicuously, in the centre of this very inconspicuous path?”

She laughs, her voice muffled by the surrounding plants. “It must have slipped out of my hands. Why don’t you bring it back to me?”

He chuckles and rises to his feet. “Why don’t you stay in one place so I might have a chance?”

“Call it the spirit of adventure.” She pauses for a moment, falling suspiciously silent. He takes the opportunity to pick up his pace. “Without it, this would not be quite as much fun.”

He bites his tongue, holding onto his response as he rounds the next corner, hoping to catch her—but she is gone again. This time her tunic and trousers lie in a heap, dark against the white and gold tiles. “You do realize this is a public space, yes?” he says, gathering them up.

“And you do realize that we are quite alone, and it’s after hours. Exceedingly after hours.”

I’ve noticed. The ache for her blooms deep within. He can imagine what she must look like now—standing in her underthings, her jewellery shining in the moonlight—and the thought is too alluring to ignore. His breath catches in his throat and he hurries down the path.

“Aye,” he says finally, rounding another corner. “We’re alone.”

She laughs. Is she behind him, or is that her voice echoing? “Come here, then,” she says softly. “Come find me.”

He pauses, trembling with anticipation at the request. “Where are you?” he whispers.

She doesn’t answer.

Thancred turns the last bend and his heart stops.

Aureia sits on the edge of a white bench in a secluded, hidden corner of the arboretum perhaps only she knows about, caught in a pool of blue-green light that flows in through the ornamental stained glass and backlit by the soft glow of blooming heartblooms. Her back is to him, her skin alabaster and luminescent in the light, the arcane marks branded across her shoulder blades faded from red to silver. She has one leg crossed over the other, her foot pointed, her heeled boot extending the line of her leg. Her body is adorned in small pearls and crystals in two parts, the loops criss-crossing over her thighs and around her hips, down her shoulders and across her breasts.

Desire courses through him, warm and hot and heady. She must have been wearing it this entire time, a treasure hidden beneath nondescript clothing. There’s something charming, perhaps even a bit magical, about the lengths to which she has gone to create this moment—and it only makes him want her more.

His breath quickens. He sets down her clothing. “Aureia…”

She glances over her shoulder and puts a finger to her lips, regarding him with dark, liquid eyes. The pearls and crystals rustle with her movements, the sleeves drooping lavishly over her upper arms. She may as well be naked, the adornments leave nothing to the imagination. A fine sheen of sweat clings to her skin, glistening from the arboretum’s humidity. Her necklace lies against her collarbone, the silver pendant shimmering in the light. Her hair remains swept away from her face, save for the one stubborn lock that curls attractively against the column of her throat.

There is something dreamlike about her in this liminal place, at once both quite real and not real enough. Perhaps it’s the gardens, perhaps it’s the light, perhaps it’s the godsdamn lingerie that will be the end of him.

Here, tonight, she may as well be a goddess. And by the gods—whatever now remains of them—he will worship her, body and soul.

Aureia extends a hand.

Thancred takes it and raises it to his lips. His eyes flick up, his gaze trained rapturously on her, and he presses a slow, agonizing kiss to the back of her hand. She holds still, her chest rising and falling with steady breath.

This is a moment to savour.

He turns her hand and presses his mouth to the inside of her wrist, his lips ghosting across her skin as he holds them both here in this moment. She sighs softly, an invitation for more, and he takes it in earnest, trailing slow, aching kisses up the length of her arm. Soon he is standing before her, head bowed, a hand cupping the side of her face. She raises her chin, ruby eyes open and sparkling, the curve of her lips lifted in a gentle smile. The light catches the pearls clinging to her arms and breasts, casting colour across the iridescent sheen. Her chest rises and falls with her breath, dusky nipples peaking out from behind the loops of teardrops. 

His thumb brushes her cheek. Together, they breathe. One breath. Two. Something passes between them, something words cannot express.

Her gaze remains locked to his, staring intently as she spreads her legs, the net of pearls and crystals on her lower half tinkling with her movements. He steps between them and leans down, fingers skimming her collarbone as he kisses her. A faint sigh escapes her, muffled against his lips, and his tongue slips inside her mouth, kissing her just as he has hundreds of times before. Hot, liquid desire courses through him and he forces it down, keen not to let this moment pass too quickly.

He drags a hand down her chest, slipping it through the beads of pearls, and cups her breast. The moan he coaxes from her now is more urgent than before. She breaks the kiss, head tilting back, a loose curl brushing the column of her throat. Dark lashes flutter against pale skin as he runs a thumb over her nipple, caressing it to a peak. Trembling, she opens her eyes and breathes a sigh into the warm, humid air.

She reaches for him, her fingertips brushing first the tattoos on his neck, then the white choker around his throat. Even after all these years, he still wears it.

Her gaze finds his.

She hooks a finger beneath the choker and pulls him down, crushing her mouth to his. He groans and leans into her, one hand cradling the back of her neck, the other squeezing her breast. His knees quake, his lips still pressed to hers in a raw and open kiss, and he sinks before her to kneel between her legs.

A growl rumbles in the back of his throat and he drags his lips from the corner of her mouth and along her jaw, down the column of her throat to her collarbone. When he presses a long, sucking kiss to the hollow of her throat, she grips the edge of the bench and holds herself still. Her leg hooks around him, pulling him closer, her heel pressed against his back, and she bites her lower lip to muffle a moan. The sound sends a pleasurable shiver rolling down his spine.

Heat flushes through him from his core, his head spinning with the haze of desire.

A light touch now. He slips down her body, his nose grazing the beads that fall in a line down her breastbone, his hands roaming across the strings of pearls. It doesn’t take much to push them apart, to loop them back and out of the way. He falls against her, hands now locked around her waist, holding her securely as he presses his face to her breasts. His tongue flicks across her nipple and she inhales a sharp breath. He chuckles huskily and teases her with his tongue, pressing one sucking kiss after another until she is trembling in his arms.

The ghost of his name murmurs on her lips, lost in the sound of the arboretum’s rippling water and rustling leaves.

He moves further down, the stubble on his chin scratching her skin as he presses kiss after kiss to the soft curves of her belly. Her head tilts back, her sighs now fading into the gentle quiet of this lush and private place. Her foot slips, her heel grazing the floor, and she shifts her weight, arcing her hips towards him. He grins and slides a hand beneath her thigh, the other falling to her hip. He toys with the pearls there, twining the strands between his fingers.

He kisses above her navel.  

She trembles. Her foot digs into his rear, pushing him closer. A moment later, her fingers thread in his hair, pulling gently as she leads him down to all the places she wants to be touched. Blood pulses in his veins, desire pooling deep within at the command. He groans, the sound muffled against her stomach, the yearning for her—to caress, to kiss, to feel, to explore every part of her—clouds his mind, everything else all but forgotten.

He kisses further down, coming to rest above the apex of her thighs. She breathes his name and he chances a glance upwards, gazing at her, entranced. In these few precious seconds, he takes her all in—the dark of her hair, the curve of her lips, the strength of her arms, the alluring gleam of those damn pearls wrapped around her breasts. Such beautiful sensuality that only makes him crave her more.

She is here. With him. For him. This exquisite moment a creation of her design.

He bows his head and presses his mouth to the scintillating heat between her legs.

The scent and taste of her is intoxicating. Breathing deep, he drinks her up, lapping at her clit. She gasps, her breath hitching, and drags her fingers through his hair, firmer this time. He groans, his own desire pushing tight against his trousers, and for a moment he basks in the memory of her hand around his cock, stroking him to sweet release. He coasts on the tender desire, letting it swell and bloom even as his mouth works her into a mewling mess. She pants above him, eyes closed, chest heaving, her hair unravelling even more now.  

He shifts his weight, his knees aching where they press against the marble tile, and turns his head, sweeping his tongue through her folds. Up, down, licking and sucking, some movements long and languid, others fast and fervent. A pause so as not to overstimulate, to leave the sensitive nub yearning for more while he attends to other parts of her. He strokes downward with the flat of his tongue and slides it into the heady heat of her cunt, thrusting in deep. He has always been good with his mouth. The way she tenses and relaxes under his ministrations, the scent and taste of her, the small sounds she makes, the view of her from between her legs. How could this not be the way to make love to her?  

Pleasure pulses within him, hot and bright.

He grips her hips, one hand slipping below the drooping pearls to squeeze her ass. She tenses, her pleasure mounting, her fingers running again and again through his hair as the foot hooked around his waist holds him tight.

With a smirk, he drags his mouth upward, pulls her clit into his mouth, and sucks.

She cries out, trembling and shaking as he pushes her past her peak. Her leg slips from its position, sliding over his ass to hit the floor, the sound of her heel striking the marble tile echoing through the gallery. Her hands move from his hair to his jaw, cradling his face as she the last waves of pleasure fade, and at last she stills, her faint, shallow breaths resounding in his ears. He draws back and sinks to the floor, his head resting against her thigh, and covers her hand with his. Their fingers twine together, holding tight.

They sit, her perched on the bench, him on the floor, and breathe as one in a pool of blue-green light. His heart thunders in his chest, so loud he is certain she can hear it.

He closes his eyes.

Fingers rest against his chin, gently turning his head up. Heels clicking on the floor. Pearls rustling by him.

When he opens his eyes, he finds her standing before him, a mischievous smile on her face. She takes his hand and pulls him up, leaning in to capture his mouth with hers. His lips part for her and she kisses him deeply, drawing him in so deep he thinks nothing of what she is doing until he finds himself turned, his back now to the bench, the backs of his calves pressed against it. She breaks the kiss and glances up at him, gazing at him from under dark lashes.

She slips a hand between his legs, palming the hardened bulge.

Pleasure strikes through him, warm and wanting.

She presses her body against his and undoes his trousers, pulling his cock free.

His chest rises, his breath caught in his throat.

She places her hands on his shoulders.    

His knees buckle. He stares at her, captivated, and allows her to push him down onto the bench. He sits, watching as if spellbound as she sinks to her knees. She places her hands on his thighs, her touch featherlight even as she pushes his legs apart, her gaze still trained on his. Desire throbs within him, his cock flushed and erect, and this moment of pause driving him mad. He has never wanted her to touch him more.

Please. The plead lies voiceless on the tip of his tongue.

She smiles, running her hands along the inside of his thighs. The light reflects off the loops of pearls, shimmering bright.

Then she bends, bowing her head, and takes him in her mouth.

His chest heaves, a sharp intake of breath flooding his lung, and pleasure courses through him as her tongue sweeps across the tip of his cock. He blinks, his vision dark and hazy with lust, time slowing to a halt as he gazes at the person between his legs. His lips part, mouth half-open in a sloppy, stunned smile, a moan rumbling in his throat as she takes him deeper.

Her hand slides between his thighs and cups him gently.

He curses, his hips arcing in response. His teeth scrape his lower lip and he clings desperately to the sensation, wanting more and yet fearing it will end too soon. Groaning, he shifts his weight and reaches for her, running his fingers through her hair. Her bun loosens, more strands coming undone and falling against her collarbone. The sight of her—the dishevelled hair now at odds with the precise exquisiteness of the pearl lingerie, kneeling between his legs with her mouth and hands around his cock—sends coiling heat rushing through him.

Her eyes flick up, meeting his. A small, playful smirk brightens her eyes.

She presses her lips around the tip of his cock and sucks, lavishing him with her tongue.

His fingers grip her hair, holding her close, his moan echoing through the empty gallery. He trembles, the need to move, the desire to thrust upwards making his head spin, but he holds still for her. She draws out one stroke after another, faster and faster, sucking and sucking until at last he cannot hold himself back. He gasps, trembling as he spills into her mouth. She takes it calmly and in control, steady where he is shaking, and at last pulls back and releases him with a wet pop. 

She sits back on her haunches and looks up at him with a satisfied grin, gently wiping her lips with the back of her hand.

He stares back in wonder, his hands still in her hair, and leans down, resting his forehead against hers. The air around them swirls, warm with the scent of sweat and sex. The glow of heartblooms gleams in his peripheral vision, their luminous petals flushed a golden pink.

He cradles her and kisses her cheek. Her jaw. Her ear. Her lips. Her neck. They should be done and over, but he wants nothing more than to draw her into him, to feel every part of her.

He takes her hands and draws her up.

She stands before him, radiant in the hazy light, hair unravelling, ruby eyes shining. Her gaze sweeps over him and she reaches out, pressing a palm to his chest, right over his heart. She pauses, feeling the beat of his heart beneath her fingertips, brimming with life and joy. She leans in, brushing her fingers across his cheek, and kisses him.

He groans against her lips, surprised by the gentleness of her touch. Drawing back, he meets her eyes, a question in his gaze as his hands drift to her hips. She smiles, her laughter soft, and nods, kissing him again in confirmation.

He grins.

Gripping her hips, he turns her around. His gaze flicks up, looking her up and down, admiring the strength of her back, the shape of her ass, the way the pearl straps loop around her curves. Exhaling a breath, he pulls her eagerly into his lap, her familiar weight leaving him flushed and aroused. He kisses her shoulder, dragging his lips up to the crook of her neck. He kisses her deeply, sucking at the delicate skin, one hand wrapping around her waist. His touch is featherlight, teasing her with faint brushes against her inner thighs, drawing out the moment.

At last, he slips his fingers between her legs.

She is warm and slick, and she trembles in his arms as he runs a finger across her clit. Still sensitive—the lightest stroke has her moaning. A husky chuckle rumbles in the back of his throat and he places a hand against her cheek, turning her head to kiss her. He parts her lips with his tongue and strokes downward with his fingers, pressing them to the entrance of her cunt. She gasps, a faint demand for more murmured on her lips, and he pushes a finger inside, thrusting in and out. Her breath hitches and she arcs her hips, grinding against him as she moves in rhythm to his thrusts.

He bows his head, forehead brushing her shoulder. Desire simmers deep within. She rolls her hips, stoking his arousal, and his cock stiffens, yearning for more. The desire to be within her is too potent for words.  

Holding her close, he pulls his fingers free and shimmies her back. She pants, breathless and wild, and plants her heels on the floor. She pushes up and he grips himself, guiding his cock. She moans as he enters her, pushing into the aching, swollen heat.

Finally, he sheathes himself with her.

She pauses, adjusting to the pressure, the moves, pulling him deeper to the sweet spot that has her trembling with pleasure. He clutches her to him, wrapping a hand around her front and slipping it beneath the pearls. He toys with her breast, plucking delicately at her nipple, enjoying the mewls he coaxes from her as he thrusts up into her, slow and deep. She sighs and leans against him, her back pressing into his chest, the clasps of her lingerie catching on his shirt.

Her hand grips his thigh.

His tangles in her hair, unwinding the rest of her bun until her hair falls, wild and free, about her shoulders.

Then she presses up off the floor, taking control of their pace, and rides him with slow, purposeful movements.   

His heart thunders, blood rushes in his ears, and all sense of time and space evaporates. He kisses her—shoulders, neck, back, anywhere and everywhere within reach. Her back arches and her hips roll, drawing fervent pleasure from him again and again until he is certain he can hold on no longer.

His hand slips from her breast, his slick palm pressed flat against her stomach, and he reaches around with the other and dips below her navel. One heated stroke of her clit and she is shaking. A second and she is whimpering with bliss. A third and she crashes over her peak, her hand squeezing his thigh as her cunt clenches around his shaft.

Her wordless voice, her panting breath, the frenetic beat of her heart, it is all the sweetest music of recent memory. Here, in this moment of ecstasy, they stare out together at these gardens of blue and green and gold. Here, in this place of her own making, she leads him to rapture. 

He comes, his cry muffled against her shoulder, thrusting deep as he spills into her. She moans, her head lolling back, eyes closed, shaking as he strokes her through her climax. Another wave of pleasure crests and crashes, and she is panting and shaking as he brings her to one last end. Finally, he slips free, pleasantly spent, sweat clinging to the inside of his shirt, and does up his trousers. She twists around and curls up in his lap, her legs thrown haphazardly over his and her arms about his shoulders, her face buried in his neck. Her long hair tumbles down her back in a tangle, the red streaks fading into black.

He holds her and at last there is silence. True silence.

“I should have told you sooner,” Thancred says quietly, cradling her in his arms.

“Hm?”

“You are radiant tonight, Aureia darling.”

She snorts, muffling a little giggle with her hand. “A ridiculous idea, this,” she says, plucking at the pearls looped over her arm. “I should never have gotten this thing, and yet… well.”

“Well?”

She brushes his cheek with her thumb, running it across the stubble on his jaw. “I wanted to surprise you. And I rather like the way you look at me when I’m wearing something like this.”

“Is that so? Then you simply must give me more reasons to look.”

“Sweet talker.”

“With you? Always.”

They remain there for a time, surrounded by intimate quiet, caught in the glow of the heartblooms’ fading luminescence. It is rare for them to have such moments to themselves, though they are becoming more common in these halcyon days of their retirement. Moments of bliss and aching passion, tempered by their long years together. In a strange way, he feels they are only now finding the small pleasures that simply were not possible in their youth. Back in a time when they were both shaped by their sense of duty, by promises made to themselves and others, to the fate of nations and the destiny of the star.

Such matters are over now.   

Time moves ever onwards. There are new joys to explore, new moments to discover.

Perhaps this is what peace is.

[esta-elavaris]

I won't list all of my stuff here - just the things that I think are worth shouting about. Organising it all via fandom, with some little sub-categories within those because some of them *cough*James/Theodora*cough* have decided to become ungovernable.

Where to find me: AO3 -- IG -- Goodreads

Catch the Wind-verse:

Catch the Wind - James Norrington/Modern!OC Status: Complete. [400k+ words] AO3 The behemoth that started the absolute sickness in me, and probably where you should start if you want any of the rest of my Norrington stuff to make total sense to you.

When it was completed, I also did a read-through on here talking about some behind-the-scenes type stuff. The tag is here, but it's obviously reverse-chronological order so spoilers abound! I plan on doing this for other fics when they're complete!

Sainted by the Storm - James Norrington/Modern!OC Status: In progress, updated sporadically. AO3 The home for any random snippets of this pairing that I write - there are a few AU chapters here and there, mostly it's flufftober fills, or pieces not long enough to warrant their own story. Wicked Game - James Norrington/Modern!OC Status: In progress. AO3 Semi-sequel to CTW, just a very small smutty series set after the events of the main story. Red Thread of Fate - Theodore Groves/Pirate!OC Status: In progress. AO3 Vague companion piece to CTW, taking place in the background of that story, and then branching into the timespan that follows it - with appearances made by Norrington and the OC I write for him.

Catch the Wind AUs

Fallen Through Time - James Norrington/Modern!OC Status: In progress, on a break. AO3 -- Tumblr An AU of Catch the Wind, exploring what might've happened had Elizabeth Swann been the one to find Theodora when she fell into the world of POTC.

As It Was - Modern!James Norrington/Historical!OC Status: Planning - a teaser can be found on tumblr for now. AO3 Another AU of Catch the Wind, where James Norrington is the modern character, and Theodora Byrne is the "canon" character from POTC who is fated to die.

Here, Where Fire Grows - Boromir/Modern!Amnesiac!OC Status: In progress AO3 Writing Catch the Wind didn't get the "modern girl falls for fictional dead man" trope out of my brain, so I had to inflict another on Boromir - but this time with an amnesiac twist, just for some added fun. Other mini-stories for these two written during flufftober can be found here.

Flufftober '23 The non-Theorrington flufftober fills can be found in this series on AO3, but all of the fills also be found on Tumblr where they have pretty banners to go along with the chapters.

About a Girl Captain Hook [Peter Pan 2003]/OC AO3 Hook sets out to manipulate a former member of The Lost Boys in order to gain the upper hand against Peter Pan…and learns the hard way that it's best not to underestimate one's opponent. Manipulations, trust issues, lots of "falling for you would be the worst possible idea so I won't do that haha...unless 👀" on both sides.

Obscure, Plain, and Little Aemond Targaryen/OC AO3 A Jane Eyre-inspired fic -- probably won't follow the events of the show/book.

Absolution Dracula [Van Helsing 2004]/OC AO3 Set in the modern day, lots of cliché favourites with (hopefully) some added twists to spice things up a bit! Free Cullen Rutherford/F!Inquisitor AO3 Modern!Royalty!AU which will eventually follow the events of the game.

This is the hub that contains all of my post documenting my progress with the challenge I'm setting myself for 2025, in which I'll be aiming to have twelve consecutive 50k word months.

List of ideas for tentative future pairings and fandoms I want to go into can be found here. I'm also always open to suggestions, so don't feel too shy if you want to send me an ask or a message 💜

[ghastigiggles]

trickle down

RAAAAAAHHHH WOMEN!!! Furina Content for the hungry masses, apologies that it's not longer. I was very inspired by a particular post and speedran this at like 4 in the morning.

Finally. Women in the Genshin Content tag. Let's Go Lesbians

usual disclaimer; safe-for-work tickling content ahead, very cute, very fluffy - also very vague 4.2 spoilers? but you wouldn't get it without context so it should be okay for the uninitiated o7

Being human comes with a lot of fun little quirks.

Furina loves being human. 

Furina does not, however, quite enjoy the prideful appearance she's been forced to keep for so long – so it's very nice and refreshing to finally have more and more friends at her side to drop that guard around.

At least, it's certainly nicer for Clorinde to no longer be alone in suffering Furina's drama, because –

"Would y – eeEEeeh! Ahaha – help mehehe already…!"

Paimon shuffled awkwardly in the air, glancing towards the Champion Duellist. 

"Should we, um, do something…?"

"No. Let it run its course… She'll be fine."

Lumine snorted softly, biting down her smile in an attempt to look as bemused as Clorinde when Paimon looked over haplessly. Before the three of them, taking advantage of their relative privacy and distance from society, was poor Lady Furina, her arms held above her head by Gentilhomme Usher – thus allowing Surintendante Chevalmarin and Mademoiselle Crabaletta to pinch and prod at her torso, sending her into the undignified fit of giggles she was in now. 

( very necessary A/N; the names of furina's staff are needlessly complicated even for a french speaker. sweet jesus. )

"Ahaha – y-you – yohohou are cruel! How c-cohould you fff – ahaha! – forsahake me this way?!"

"Lady Furina has a habit of, er…. Well, this," Clorinde explained poorly, nodding her head towards the scene with a tired look; "I gave up on actually helping after the first dozen repeat offenses."

The traveling pair nodded, exchanging a mildly amused look between themselves as Paimon took over replying for them both.

"Don't worry, we get it… We've got a few friends who are very similar, ehe…!"

Lumine nodded as well, turning her gaze back to Furina's song and dance. From the way her legs shook, it seemed like she'd collapse if Usher released her arms; and though she was flushed in the face, she also seemed genuinely happy…

It made the traveler's fingers itch, and she hummed, glancing towards her fairy friend.

"Hey, Paimon – since we're just waiting, why don't you and Clorinde scout up ahead? I'll stay here to keep her safe if anything creeps up on us."

"But…"

Paimon started to object, but shut her jaw with an audible click when their gazes met, her eyes widening with sudden understanding. Offering a more nervous smile, Paimon nodded quickly, whipping back to Clorinde.

"... R-right! Come on, miss Clorinde!"

"Right. Shout if you need help."

Almost grateful for the out, Clorinde marched up the path, Paimon hovering just beside her as she went. Lumine watched until they disappeared through a few trees before approaching the giddy Furina, waving her arms to shoo away her staff members.

"Alright, that's enough…"

"... Haah, ahah… ah –!"

Abruptly, they disappeared with a burst of bubbles, and, as predicted, Furina collapsed entirely, opting to commit entirely to the fall and flop back onto the grass, her hat rolling away when she landed. 

"Ahh, ow… haah, you could've been faster with the save, you know…"

"Oh, please, you could've gotten yourself out of it anytime," Lumine giggled, crouching beside the Chief Justice and savouring the flustered glare her comment got.

"Y-yes, well! Perhaps I was testing your friendship – looking to see how fast you would save me if I was in dire straits!"

"Oh, you're testing something, alright…"

The traveler shifted, somehow managing to straddle Furina where she lay before she had a chance to react – though it was less than graceful, with how their skirts overlapped. Furina stared up at Lumine with shock, stammering wordlessly while the blonde traveler smiled, a mischievous glimmer in her eye.

"I've got a question for you, Lady Furina – in operas, how much do you enjoy twist villains?"

"... Oh," Furina squeaked finally, her cheeks red – though her next words made Lumine soften the act a bit; "I – I, um… You're really…?"

"Yeah. Unless you don't want me to?"

"N-no! I mean – yes? I – mngh…"

The verbal stumbling made Lumine laugh, and Furina huffed petulantly, squirming in place with a thoroughly flustered expression.

"Just… Stop when I say so, okay?!"

"Promise. I won't push it."

Furina hesitated, gauging Lumine's sincerity before letting out a soft breath and nodding – only to tense when the traveler dug her fingers into her sides, wasting no time to profit off of the okay.

"Now, let's see how loud you can really sing…"

"AahhaaaAAH – Wait wait wahahait –!"

As Clorinde and Paimon rounded the bend again, they were greeted with Lumine helping a very breathless-looking Furina to her feet, slinging an arm around her shoulders to support the wobbly-legged damsel with an amused look to their companions.

"Unfortunately, Madameoiselle Crabaletta did a number on her… I think we might have to give up on the rest of this trip."

Clorinde sighed haplessly, shaking her head; "It's alright… It wouldn't be the first time. Come on, let's get back to the city…"

"... Haah, haah… S-sorry, everyone…"

Paimon giggled, collecting Furina's hat from the ground as they began their trek homeward and trying it on her own head, giving Lumine a knowing side-eye.

"It's okay! Paimon had fun anyway! What about you, Traveler?"

"Yeah – lots of fun. We should do this again soon."

Lumine grinned, drumming her fingers against Furina's side where they rested just to make her flinch and giggle, leaning into the traveler a little harder and ducking down to hide a giddy smile.

Furina loves being human – especially now that she has proper friends to be human with.

[lucky-clover-gazette]

captive prince book 1 highlights & annotations

chapter 6

indented text is from the book. some quotes have commentary, some do not. some comments are serious, and some are definitely not. most of them will only make sense to people who have read the series. and, like, there are spoilers. so please read the books first if you're interested!

also: part of the reason i'm doing such a close reading is to study cs pacat's style, especially in terms of how she does romance and erotica. there are "craft notes" that might seem weird, like i'm being redundant or restating something rather than analyzing, but those are more things that i want to remember/take away from the writing!

i'm going to tag these longer posts with "sam reads capri" in case anyone wants to read them all at once.

this is a google doc i wrote with overall content warnings for the captive prince series. it's not perfect, but i do think it's important to include.

‘In case he found me pleasing, I was being trained for the Prince.’ ‘Were you?’ said Damen, with some interest. ‘Because of my colouring. You can’t see it in this light, but in daylight, my hair is almost blond.’ ‘I can see it in this light,’ said Damen. He could hear the approval saturating his own voice. He felt it shift the dynamic between them. He might as well have said, Good boy.

damen likes blondes moment #5, ft. damen’s vague slavery apologism. booooooooo

He should be in Akielos, where his training would be fêted and prized.

damen that’s fucked up. i know you don’t know that, but it is and you’ll figure it out

‘You were made for better masters than these. You deserve someone who appreciates your worth.’

context: slavery, in all forms, is wrong. the narrative knows this. damen does not.

It wasn’t possible that something like this was going to happen—that this court was so depraved that a mercenary could rape a royal slave a scant distance from the gathered court.

some really interesting questions about consent here. can sex under slavery be consensual? i say no. if a person does not have free will, they cannot freely give consent. 

but there is the sex scene between laurent and damen in book 2. that’s on damen’s last night of technically belonging to laurent—however, they both acknowledge that he really was never a slave, by training or behavior, and damen was given many opportunities to leave prior. so to me, it is very much consensual.

anyway, when damen suggests that the sex akielions have with palace slaves is consensual, it’s like… eh, no, i don’t think so. it’s still noncon, just with extra hidden steps and attempted justifications, as opposed to the blunt and unapologetic debauchery of vere (although i will note that in vere, the pets are not slaves, which damen seems to often ignore/forget). the slaves have been essentially trained their whole lives to always consent. that within itself is a violation of their human rights, and means that their verbal consent doesn’t even matter. basically: damen’s moral outrage here is justified, but it also exposes a massive blind spot in his perspective.

Without access to income from his various estates, Laurent’s retinue was substantially diminished and his spending curtailed.

this is so funny to me. laurent has to cancel several streaming service subscriptions because he’s losing income. no more hulu for you, broke boy

There had to be something he could do. There was nothing he could do.

lemony snicket-ass line

Very deliberately, he knelt, and bowed his head, and lowered his eyes to the floor. For a moment, it was so quiet that he could hear the flames from the torches fluttering in the air. ‘This is new,’ said Laurent.

‘Let me guess. You want me to take off your chains. Or reduce your guard. Or put you in a room where the doors and windows are unbarred. Don’t waste your breath.’

context: laurent still cannot conceive of damen being a noble or selfless person

‘Am I supposed to believe you care about their welfare? How exactly would they be treated better in Akielos? It is your barbaric society that forced them into slavery, not mine. I would not have thought it possible to train the will out of a man, but you have managed it. Congratulations. Your show of compassion rings false.’

he’s right! and it’s definitely notable that this comes from laurent, whose strong will is one of his defining characteristics. he feels more disdain for the complete depersonalization of akielion slaves, than for the contractual torment of pets in vere.

laurent and submission do not mix well, ideologically or in practice. when he chooses to be submissive, it’s in order to feel more in control. it’s like what amma says in sharp objects by gillian flynn: “sometimes if you let people do things to you, you’re really doing it to them.” akielion slaves have been conditioned not to question what they’re told to do, and that to laurent is probably more evil than forcing someone who knows that they don’t want something to do it anyway.

‘I don’t know if that is usual practice in this place, but good men don’t torture slaves in Akielos. Slaves are trained to obey in all things, but their submission is a pact: they give up free will in exchange for perfect treatment.’

i know his heart is in the right place, but maybe a pact involving a total loss of free will is just… not good under any conditions?

‘To abuse someone who cannot resist—isn’t that monstrous?’

oof. laurent trauma dramatic irony moment

Finally, Laurent said, ‘You overestimate my influence over my uncle.’ Damen began to speak, but Laurent cut him off. ‘No. I—’ Laurent’s golden brows had drawn slightly together, as though he had encountered something that did not make sense. ‘You would really sacrifice your pride over the fate of a handful of slaves?’ He had worn the same look on his face at the ring; he was gazing at Damen as though he was searching for an answer to an unexpected problem. ‘Why?’

context: this reminds me of the way that laurent offered to help nicaise and then realized he couldn’t, because his uncle has too much power over them both. he’s going through the same logical process here re: fulfilling damen’s request. he’s also confused as to why damen has made the request at all at all, because he still sees damen as selfish and immoral, while his request is undeniably selfless and moral. just like earlier, laurent pragmatically asks—“why?”

‘Because I am stuck here in this cage and I have no other way to help them.’

this is how laurent feels about nicaise. fuuuuuck

‘You think this is a trick,’ said Damen. He could see from the assessing look on Laurent’s face that he was right.

context: damen doesn’t realize it, but the fact that laurent is even looking into this is a total win. he is, in a very slight and cautious way, giving damen’s perspective serious consideration.

‘Something amuses you?’ Laurent. ‘What would I have to gain from—’ Damen broke off. ‘I don’t know how to convince you. You don’t do anything without a dozen motives. You lie even to your own uncle. This is country of deviousness and deception.’ ‘Whereas pure Akielos is free of treachery? The heir dies on the same night as the King and it is merely coincidence that smiles on Kastor?’

THIS CONVERSATION IS SO GOOD. both of their kingdoms suck. they’re both helpless and suffering as princes, and they could both make things better as kings. especially if they worked together! this has been here from the very start, it’s SO fucking good. the slow burn isn’t just romantic and sexual, it’s, like, intellectual. ideological. philosophical. amazing.

‘After you left,’ the guard said, ‘he got a visit from Govart.’ Laurent turned back to Damen, blue eyes like ice. ‘No,’ said Damen, knowing Laurent believed this now to be some scheme of his uncle’s. ‘It’s not what you think.’

context: they’re both acting reasonably here based on the information they’ve been given. the coincidence just sucks. damn uncle

[phantomram-b00]

Imma use my hottake post to explain it since I felt I should give more context with this take to explain myself why I have this opinion on the topic of this.

For those who don’t know or don’t wanna look back with the link, it basically that my hottake is that I don’t like the theory of what Crowley’s angel name was/could’ve been. I know this might be a bit controversial since I think everyone in this fandom (not to assume ofc), and whilst I get the curiously since Crowley almost never talk about his time over at heaven, mostly for valid reason that I’ll get to. Before I get into this, I know it been month but I wanna still give that this haunted blog/post does contain heavy spoilers so if your planning to watch good omens or haven’t seen season two yet go watch it and come back here, or you can still read— what can I say, I’m only a phantom that have lot to say about good omens and making it everyone else’s problem. But still spoiler warning ahead! So without further or do,

let get into it and talk about our favorite snake demon and a good old fashion lover boy/girl/enby—

So, okay, seeing Angel Crowley, that’s cool and honestly wholesome— despite the poor trauma he’s going to endure and will sauntered vaguely downward for. I remember hearing the theory about how his name could be Raphael, seen some AO3 tags of Crowley used to be Raphael or just people buzzing what his name could’ve been (even some saying it could be Castiel or Cassiel). And while the curiously of it all is cool, for a while I couldn’t really pin it at first as to why I personally didn’t like it. And Idk if that make be boring or a bitch for not wanting to know, it just to me, I felt why does it matter if Crowley himself don’t even want to remember about his time at heaven?

Sure season 2 when he didn’t even say it might have been what spiked it, but i think the whole point about him is the fact that he clearly moved on from it. Does he still hold resentment? Of course, why wouldn’t he be? And from unfair circumstances too:

But, as we’ve seen from most of the flashback, he moved on from it. He using hell as long as he can (lonely? Yep, which is a perfect parallel to how Aziraphale following heaven—), he doesn’t want to remember the angel he is before, he even said it to Aziraphale when he tried to stop him from killing Job’s kids. But I think of how he’s dealt with is how his trauma grew seeing how he doesn’t want to be considered nice or kind; I feel it goes deeper than just because he’s a demon now, I believe (and this is just my observation), he rather not remember the kinder side he was once before because of how the “light” casted him away and how heaven runs things. So why would he want to be associated with those word when it remind him of his time, he rather not remember it (or in a case run away from heaven as much as he can), he rather associate himself from being mean or remember himself as a demon now rather than an angel he once was. (Even though, he is very kind and I wish to hug him. Don’t start-).

Plus, he more comfortable with his new name now, that’s why he even changed it back at the flashback of the crucifixion of Jesus as his named used to be Crawly (which honestly real.) and changed it to Crowley (now technically he changed it again to Anthony J Crowley, but we hardly heart anyone even Aziraphale say it outside from the blitz flashback, so I kinda wanna count it but I’mma not just incase, but I like the name tho-), and since then, he’ve wore that name proudly and never look back, and Aziraphale an ally he is suppose him and call him by his prefer name. That is him saying “I’m not whoever I was before, so I’m going to change my name to move on from my past”, and honestly I stand, I love the fact he want to move on from his time as an angel/move away from his deadname to be the person he is today, proud of the wily serpent ^v^

“But phantom, that still doesn’t explain why you dislike it?”

You’re right, it still doesn’t so imma explain it a bit more, I just feel it shouldn’t matter what his name was, it really up to his (or Neil’s but this is Crowley we’re talking about) own terms, it him that should be able to say his deadname. And if it never reveal, I wouldn’t care since Good Omens from both season shown, Crowley moved on from his angelic past even if he have the grudges he have now after 6000 years he rather accepts his life now and hopefully with the Angel that have supported him and stood by him. And I know the finally is making it seem like Azirapahel want to change him, but like I said here that I don’t think that the case, I don’t think he would ever want him to revert back to the person he was once before, he could never ask Crowley to do such a thing knowing the progress he made. Like I said and will say again, I think this was Azirapahle (in a poor way given the situation and that their communication is the equivalent of a ghost (invisible as fuck)) to give Crowley a change to fix the broken and toxic system heaven been running on since the dawn of time, to give Crowley the chance to fix what need to be fixed with Aziraphale, and Crowley said no, and I think rightly so in his point of view, heaven did treated everyone especially Crowley poorly and is the main source of his trauma, so I’m happy he said no, it not his place to fix the one thing that in his eyes was broken and have always been. So good jobs Crowley for standing your grounds.

But I’m getting ahead of myself, my point is that, Crowley have moved on and it shouldn’t matter what his deadname was, I think we should all respect that when it come to not just his but everyone’s deadname. Crowley clearly doesn’t have to remember his time on heaven, and I gotta respect that. Because if I was in his shoes, I wouldn’t neither if I was a bit braver than he was.

“But phantom what if it was revealed anyway?”

Again I wouldn’t care, like the commenter said (I don’t know how they feel about tagging so I won’t just to be respectful) and I do agree, if it had to be revealed it should be on his own terms. And I do agree, it is up to Crowley, he should be able to say it as it could garner the impactful moment, especially if he does say like “I’m not *this name* anymore” or whatever he’ll say in season 3, (which please let it be greenlit, I’m begging atp).

And honestly, I don’t doubt it really, it seem it might be revealed, which, fine, this is Neil’s work so gotta respect. Just I hope it on his term, and that no one else say it, I don’t even want aziraphale to say it. Just him. He deserve it.

But that’s my take on it. That’s my spew on this. Might be boring or lame to not be curious, but honestly like I said, he’ve going down a path away from heaven and accepted what happen to him. May not be in a healthiest way but regardless I love this demon and I am happy he moved on and I can’t wait to see him again in season 3, David Tennant a perfect Crowley and I wouldn’t have it any other way ^v^

But I hope you enjoy my yet another insane ramble of this show, frankly this show is becoming my life atp and I don’t hate it. I love this show, it my comfort, I’m happy to have this show; if you want to ask me any other questions you can in the AMA box or comments, but also tell me what do you guys think of this theory? Do you love it? Have qualms with it? Or anything? Tell me in the comments or reblog. As always this is phantom, imma go haunt somewhere else.

[ff3e33]

A highly private & 𝗘𝗫𝗧𝗥𝗘𝗠𝗘𝗟𝗬 selective SHA.DOW T. HEDGEHOG with movie, and other media influences ( sonic x primarily, this will be updated as I consume more media ) + personal adaptation watched over by Laika. READ UNDER CUT BEFORE INTERACTING. MDNI. THIS PAGE IS NOT SPOILERS FREE. © muse info

A STUDY IN : Grief and how it can drive one to do the unspeakable, falling from grace, unethical experimentation for the 'greater good'. chaotic neutral behaviors, forging your own path by defying expectations. kindness in a cruel world. MATURE + TRIGGERING CONTENT WILL BE PRESENT.

This is a low activity, highly selective blog that will be exclusive to mutuals, with that being said I will disappear from weeks to months on end, and expectations for activity should be low as I am very low motivation ontop of having a lot of things going on in my real world. I don't have a lot of rules, so I don't feel the need to have a whole carrd here dedicated to them, just read what I have below and we should be golden!

 〉 This is a trigger heavy blog, that means content such as in depth exploration of PTSD, Suicide, suicidal thoughts and intentions, religious  themes,  self  harm,  gore/blood,  body  horror,  derealization  &  dissociation, unethical experimentation, medical horror, and much more will appear here, all will be tagged accordingly ' tw trigger '

I write with heavy religious symbolism in my scripts, I personally am not religious in any form, but it does appear in my writing. I will trigger any explicit references from religion I use, but not metaphors.

 〉 I don't usually use my dash, as I get very overwhelmed and nervous.

 〉 I haven't been very caught up in Sonic since I was a child, so I apologize if I get things wrong / am not entirely in the know of things, I am currently going through Shadow Generations with my friend and am revisiting the media slowly, but due to this most of my portrayals will be based off the film + personal portrayal and the knowledge of what I have on Shadow + the franchises lore. Please have Patience with me as I re-enter this media.

 〉 DO NOT INVOLVE ME IN DRAMA, this is my biggest most important rule. I have too much going on in my personal, and IRL life, I do not want to be dragged into drama in online spaces, if I am interacting with actually dangerous people, that is one thing, but petty disagreements or things that should be handled privately, is another.

To add onto this, if you have an issue with me, talk to me about it, please do not vague me. I am 23 years old, I can handle confrontation.

 〉 I do not usually do shipping unless with friends, full stop. Do not attempt to come and interact with me only to ship, I will tell you right now it will not end up in your favor. But I will say, my DMS are ALWAYS open for any sort of development between characters!

 〉 Very important : I write in 2nd person primarily with a heavy focus upon purple prose. With requests I will alter my script into a 3rd person limited format, but without any clarification everything will be defaulted to 2nd person, which means mentions of 'you' will be in reference to my character.

 〉 My formatting will be rather relaxed due to my low energy, sometimes I might use icons, sometimes I won't. It just really depends on how I'm feeling. Don't feel the need to match my formatting, do whatever you want forever and have fun!

If you have a problem with this please let me know in DMS and I can alter it for our threads / permanently, i will not take offense to this, I want all my threads / writings to be accessible to those interested enough to take the time out of their day to indulge in my outlet.

 〉 just because we write / interact does not make us friends. I am very low empathy && I have a very low social battery. I will say, I make it very apparent when I view us as friends though.

[throughpatchesofviolet]

hey, you came across my feed from ur promo, do you have a more accessible card? i cant really read yours like at all 😭

Hi, Anon! I'm going to guess that you're on mobile, since my carrd doesn't work too well, there (I promise it looks much better on desktop)--I'm afraid I can't get around that (even for me, the colors look way worse on mobile, for some reason, but appear fine on PC) ;;

BUT. I can offer you a solution: I can copy/paste my BYF/DNF here, on this ask! It is fairly long, but this is the best work around I can think of, if you're fine with that!

For my BYF section:

First and foremost, this is my main blog, so all interaction will come from here, @throughpatchesofviolet. That said, I also have a sideblog, @throughpatchesofreblogs, where I reblog anything that isn't related to my main interests, described above.

I don't tag blood, gore, smoking, or fire UNLESS it is realistic or someone specifically requests for them to be tagged. I do, however, tag body horror and other serious topics. Furthermore, my blog is NOT spoiler free—I do have media tags that you can filter if you wish to avoid potential spoilers, however, and I always post my reactions to story updates under a cut, with warnings.I have become increasingly selective when it comes to following people back. This applies doubly to self shippers, and—lest you think you can bypass my boundaries—I have taken to carefully scrutinizing f/o lists. This is for my own comfort, and I mean no offense. Additionally, I have adopted a system of blocking and filtering anyone I don't wish to see to curate my space.

Should you ever have any concerns involving me, please do not hesitate to reach out, preferably via DMs rather than asks, so we can have a conversation. I do not post drama on my blog—I prefer to resolve things privately, through direct messages, and avoid vaguing people, as well. Furthermore, since this has been a point raised in the past, I do not consider issues such as racism, transphobia, homophobia or lesbophobia, or any serious topic "drama." Rather, I use this term to define any issue that should be discussed and resolved privately between parties.In connection with the above, I will always reach out privately should I have any concerns. My sole request is that you hold respectful conversation with me, rather than lashing out or vaguing me over what should be private matters. Basically, I expect you to behave as an adult.

I have a very sporadic work schedule, so please be aware that my interaction and posting may be somewhat sparse, at times. I promise I'm not ignoring anyone—I'm simply busy irl.If you want to tag me in art of my faves, you're welcome to! Just please respect my desire to avoid spoilers of any new IDs or E.G.O, and I'd appreciate whatever you tag me in!

Kindly refrain from referring to my faves as "blorbos," "poor little meow meow(s)," or with any other kind of language that may be considering infantilizing when talking to me.Please do not message or send asks about Catherine Earnshaw (Limbus Company) or Cathycliff. I have my reasons for disliking the character and ship, and wish to leave it at that.

I am not a fan of Faust (Limbus Company), either, and if you're a fan of hers and wish to follow, I highly suggest filtering my tag for her. Otherwise, you may see my dislike for her on display.I kin both Makuth and Hod from Lobotomy Corporation and Library of Ruina, as well as Ishmael from Limbus Company. I relate to these three a lot, but don't take kinning seriously.

Mutuals may ask for my Discord, if they wish! I'm not comfortable sharing it publicly.Lastly, if we're mutuals, please tag any and all Limbus Company spoilers for me. This includes any teased IDs or E.G.O, fanart of said teased IDs or E.G.O, Refraction Railway stages, and teased event or story scenes. I prefer experiencing each update blind, and greatly appreciate tags I can filter.

For my DNF:

Should it come to light that you are an aro/ace exclusionist, LGBTQ+ phobic, a MAP, a racist (including racebending of self inserts and/or giving said inserts Asian names), a radical feminist, I will immediately block you—there will be no exceptions to this rule.If you ship in or support any of the following media—Attack on Titan, Harry Potter, Hetalia, Hazbin Hotel, Helluva Boss, or The Last of Us—you will be blocked. The creators of these works hold views that violate the first section of my "Do Not Follow," and, in some cases, their creations contain their bigotry. Thus, I would prefer not to see them on my dash—again, no exceptions.

If you're a self shipper, I would prefer anyone who ships with canonical abusers*, racists, or pedophiles to not interact with me whatsoever. If you need examples, specific characters that make me uncomfortable include Bojack Horseman (attempted to sleep with a teenager), Springtrap/William Afton (child serial killer), and most of the final antagonists in the Cantos of Limbus Company (many of them are abusive) If, however, you label these characters as "enemy f/os," you're fine—I just dislike seeing them romanticized.

*I feel that the definition of "abuser" can be a bit blurred when it comes to villains, and can make some exceptions, here. If you're worried your f/o may fall into this category, please don't hesitate to reach out so we can discuss it!If you play or ship in either Arknights or a Hoyoverse game, and ARE NOT critical of the companies behind them, kindly do not follow. I don't tolerate hypocrisy.

If you're under the age of 18, please don't follow. You're free to interact, since I know some minors share my interests, but for my own comfort, I'd prefer my followers be adults.If you consume or create RPF (real people fiction), whether writing, reading, or drawing it, kindly do not follow. If you do, and I find out you shall be blocked.

If you're Proship/Comship OR knowingly support anyone who is (i.e., you're "neutral"). This includes anyone who ships with abusers, rapists, or pedophiles, adults who ship with minors (including by aging down/aging up a character), and those who ship any incestuous pairings.

And, for my Blacklist:

General: Clowns, Diseases, Injuries, NSFW, Satanic Imagery, Self-Harm, and Spiders.

Media:Arknights,Danganronpa, Lucifer, Teen Wolf, and horror ARGs.

Ships: All Canon × Canon and OC × Canon ships with Heathcliff; Faustmael; Rolsed.

The last thing is that if you read all of this, I like having the phrase "A melancholy sweeter than common joy" sent in as a way to signify that!